#maybe we’ll get an EV credit from the state to go toward it which would be cool

[foldingfittedsheets]

The rough day worsens. My beloveds car is fully dead. Just sank a considerable amount into new brakes but the engine is gone.

So now we need to figure out a new car in a very quick turnaround because their commute is no joke.

[hobeemin]

Tinsel & Tae

🎁 Genre: Christmas AU, Fluff, Romance, Slice of Life, Non Idol AU

🎁 Pairing: Kim Taehyung x (f) Reader

🎁 Rating: pg

🎁 Warning(s): break ups, fainting, crying, Taehyung being the sweetest big brother, lots of fluffy fluffiness

🎁 Word Count: 2k

🎁 Credits: Beta read by the awesome @nightshadevinter​ 💜 you’re the best!!

Banner resources found here (png & photo stock) and here (psd coloring)

🎁 A/N: @cest-la-tae​ Daija!!! I’m your secret Santa 😀😁 I had so much fun getting to know you dear! I hope you enjoy this little fic

Y/N pressed her ear to the phone receiver, brows furrowed. Maybe she heard it wrong. As soon as the message ended, she pressed the prompt to repeat it.

“YN listen, I…uh…I know this is a crappy way to end things, but it’s not working for me, and I believe we want different things. I hope you find someone worth your time. Love you. Oh, and Merry Christmas.”

Nope, that’s what she heard. She stared at her phone in disbelief. Really? A break up on Christmas Eve? Her hands shook as she placed the phone into her locker. She put her head inside and screamed into her coat. Her co-worker and close friend, Jungkook, entered the employee break room whistling, setting his bag down, but paused once he saw her head buried in her locker. He watched her curiously.

“Everything okay, Y/N?”

She sniffed, removing her head from inside, and slumped down onto the bench. She rubbed her eyes, trying to fight the tears. “No. Everything sucks.”

He groaned, joining her on the bench. He didn’t like seeing her in this state. He just opened his arms, allowing her in, and she began to sob, wetting his shirt in the process. It surprised her because he wasn’t super emotional, but he was here for her, which made her feel good to know he was supportive.

“He broke up with me on Christmas Eve,” she mumbled into his chest.

Jungkook frowned, shaking his head. “Seriously? That prick. Who breaks up with someone on Christmas. You don’t deserve that. I’m sorry, Y/N.”

Y/N hiccupped and grabbed a tissue off the coffee table, wiping her face with a deep sigh. He patted her back gently as he stood. “You’re going to be okay, right? I can ask the boss if you need a replacement.

She shook her head, blowing her nose. “No. No. I need the distraction, but thank you.”

Jungkook smiled at her, tousling her hair, making her swat his hand with a smile, adjusting her hat. “Alright. Let’s get upstairs before we have a riot.”

She chuckled as she looked herself over in the mirror. Y/N smoothed the wrinkles from the bright green dress with red trimming. The bells attached to her dress and matching hat jingled as she turned around, giving herself one last look over. With a nod, she followed Jungkook back out of the breakroom.

***

“Attention holiday shoppers, the mall will be closing in twenty minutes. Please make all purchases at that time. Last call for Santa photos. Have a very Merry Christmas.”

Y/N wanted to jump for joy. At least that was good news. The day was almost over. She stretched, a smile across her face as the flash from the camera went off. With a giggle, she led the child towards their family with a wave. 

“Thank you! Merry Christmas!”

She turned, giving Ben, their department store Santa Claus a sigh.

“Is it me, or does the line seem to be getting longer?”

He and Jungkook laughed at her comment. “It’s just you. Relax, we’ve got only twenty minutes left, and then we’ll be free of these–,” he stopped whispering as another family came up for pictures. “HO HO HO! Merry Christmas! Tinsel, bring some candy canes up!”

“Right away, Santa!” Y/N ran over to the basket and handed one to each kid. “Welcome to Santa’s shop! I’m Tinsel, Santa’s elf in charge!”

Soon the kids posed as Jungkook took a few photos, handing the parents the film with a smile. “Take this over to the booth to pay. Merry Christmas!”

Taehyung held his little sister’s hand as they walked to the middle of the mall. “Hurry, TaeTae! I want to see Santa!”

He chuckled, squeezing her hand as she dragged him along. “Be patient, Soyoung. We’ll get there soon enough.”

Soyoung pouted, tugging his hand. “B-But the store is going to close!”

Taehyung sighed, quickening his steps. “Okay. Okay. I’ll walk faster.” He adjusted the bags in his free hand as they walked faster. They reached the line moments later, standing as he glanced down with her. 

“We made it. Happy now?”

Soyoung nodded with a boxy grin. “Yes!” She bounced up and down. “I have a lot to ask him.”

“Now. Now. Santa is a busy man. Don’t overwhelm him, Soyoung.”

“I won’t, TaeTae.”

***

“Is it me, or is the room getting hotter?” Y/N asked, fanning herself. Jungkook looked up from the camera, shaking his head. “I feel fine.” She sighed, checking her water bottle. Empty. The lights around her only made it hotter to stand. Y/N looked over the line. Only a few families left. She could get through it. Hand out a few more candy canes, take some more pictures, then head home to a large glass of red wine.

Taehyung grinned as they reached the front of the line. “Almost our turn Soyoung!”

She jumped with a giggle. “Yay!”

But as Soyoung stared at the bright lights, decorations, and Santa looming in the large throne, her face paled. She whimpered, trying to hide behind Taehyung.

“I-I don’t want to see him.”

Taehyung’s brows knitted, staring at her. “But you were excited a minute ago.”

She tugged on his coat. “I changed my mind. I don’t wanna see him.”

Taehyung sighed, crouching down to her eye level. “Soyoung–”

Her eyes welled with tears as she began to cry. People began to stare, making Taehyung flustered as he tried to calm her down, but she wailed louder.

Jungkook looked up at the noise and waved at Y/N. “Code blue Christmas!” 

Ben groaned, rubbing his forehead. “This is our last customer. Y/N, take care of it.”

She sighed as she walked over them with a smile, grabbing the basket filled with assorted candy canes. She crouched down by the crying girl and held one out for her.

“Hiya! I’m Tinsel. Are those tears I see?”

Taehyung smiled at Y/N and stood up. “Hi Tinsel,” he brought his sister forward. “This is Soyoung. She’s a little scared to see Santa.”

Y/N smiled at her. “Hi, Soyoung. Why are you scared to see Santa?”

 Soyoung sniffled, drying her eyes. She looked at Taehyung as he nodded for her to talk. “He looks scary.”

“Scary?” Y/N gave her another smile. “Santa is the biggest softie. He wouldn’t hurt a fly. Trust me, I know. I work for him.”

“You do?”

“Uh, huh. The reindeer would agree too.”

“I-I don’t know–”

“How about I walk up with you, and we’ll talk to him together. What do you say?”

Soyoung clutched Taehyung’s coat staring at Y/N. “Only if he can come too.”

Y/N nodded. “Of course, your dad can come.”

Taehyung’s cheeks became flushed as Soyoung giggled. “Uh, she’s my little sister.”

Y/N covered her mouth as she got flustered. “Oh, goodness! I’m sorry. I thought–”

He smiled with a boxy grin. “No worries. It happens all the time.”

Y/N held her hand out for Soyoung to take. “Well, Miss Soyoung, let’s see Santa with your big brother.”

Soyoung took Y/N’s hand as shyness took over and walked up the trail to see Santa Claus. Y/N gave Jungkook a nod as if to say, ‘everything is fine’ and stopped in front of Ben.

“Tinsel reporting for duty Santa. I have a new friend who is anxious to see you!”

Ben held his stomach and let out a jolly belly laugh. “Well, hello there!”

Soyoung waved, shuffling her feet. “Hi, Santa.”

“Why don’t you come on up and we can chat?”

The shyness dissipated as she walked closer and stood next to Santa Claus. They chatted animatedly. The smile on her face grew more and more as she leaned over and whispered in his ear.

Taehyung exhaled as he turned to look at Y/N with a smile. “Thank you.”

“It was no trouble,” she answered. “I was happy to help.”

Taehyung stared at her for a moment, blushing. He couldn’t help but notice how cute she looked in the elf costume. He wasn’t one to be awkward; in fact, he was pretty confident in most situations, but being in front of her made him a little infatuated.

“Miss Tinsel?”

Y/N was about to speak up just when a wave of dizziness hit her. Everything went black as she fell backward into the side of the North Pole sign.

“Miss? Miss? Can you hear me?”

Y/N’s eyes fluttered open. As everything began to focus, she could see Ben, Jungkook, Soyoung’s brother and Soyoung standing near her. Y/N tried to stand as Taehyung held his hand up to stop her. “Don’t move; you might have hit your head during your fall.”

“I’m fine,” she said as her cheeks warmed. She hated having them fuss over her. Besides the slight bump she could feel forming, Y/N felt fine. Jungkook glanced at Ben nervously. “Should we call an ambulance?”

“Guys, I’m fine. Seriously. I think I’m just dehydrated,” she rambled.

Taehyung shook his head. “We need to be sure.”

Jungkook went off to grab his phone and make the call. Y/N sighed as she still laid on the ground. Taehyung noticed how uncomfortable she looked and helped her up to lean against the stairs. “Santa, can we get her some water?”

Ben nodded as he walked away. Soyoung sat next to them, the worry crossing her face. “Is Tinsel going to be okay?”

“Of course, I am Soyoung. Just felt a little dizzy. Even elves get hurt sometimes,” she reassured the little girl. Soyoung seemed alright with the explanation and sat there in silence. 

Soon enough, Jungkook came back with two EMTs in tow, and Taehyung pulled Soyoung back to give them room. They checked her vitals, stating she was a little overheated and dehydrated. They gave her a sports drink to replenish her electrolytes and told her to take it easy.

Taehyung watched from afar with Soyoung, still concerned. Soyoung glanced from her brother to the elf and pulled on his coat sleeve. “TaeTae?”

“Yes, Soyoung?”

“Do you want to know what I asked Santa for?”

Taehyung peered down at her curiously. “What?”

“I asked for you to meet someone pretty and nice,” she whispered.

Taehyung felt his heartache. “Soyoung–”

“I-I know you get lonely sometimes. I just didn’t want to see you sad anymore.”

Taehyung wrapped his sister in a hug. “You’re the sweetest little sister.” He grabbed her hand and walked over to Y/N. He stopped a few steps away and turned to Soyoung. “Wait here for a moment, okay?”

Soyoung bobbed her head up and down as Taehyung stepped forward.

“Miss Tinsel?”

Y/N sat up from the stretcher as her eyes rounded. He was still here. She wrapped her hair around her ear, having removed the elf hat, and smiled. “Uh, hi there. You can just call me Y/N. Tinsel retired for the night.”

They shared a laugh for a moment. “Well then, Y/N. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Kim Taehyung.” He returned the smile, tucking his hands in his pockets. “Some way to end a shift.”

Y/N nodded in agreement. “I’ll say. My life’s filled with never-ending incidents.”

Visibly nervous, Taehyung scratched his nose. “I don’t usually do this, but...uh, you’re probably the cutest elf I’ve ever met. Um…would you like to go out sometime?”

Y/N, taken aback, stared for a moment. She recovered, feeling a bit bashful. Though the pain of her recent breakup still lingered, she gave him a genuine smile. 

“As much as I’d love to, I just got out of a breakup...more like today, but I wouldn’t say no to getting drinks, maybe coffee?”

Taehyung grinned. It wasn’t a complete rejection, but something. “Of course.” He pulled out his phone as Y/N typed her number into the contacts. He smiled, placing it back into his pocket. “Until then, I wish you a merry Christmas, Y/N.”

“Merry Christmas to you too, Taehyung.”

[serpent-squad]

Serpent Drop | Sweet Pea x Reader

Sweet Pea has always hated the holiday season, and New Year’s is no exception. Will you and the rest of the serpents be able to make this New Year’s one to remember? 

Written for Day Eight (Blitzen) of @riverdale-events Reindeer Games! 

December 31st 8 a.m. BEEP BEEP BEEP

“What the hell?” Sweet Pea groans as he leans over to pull the alarm clock’s cord from the wall.

“We need to wake up sleepyhead! It’s New Year’s eve.” Sweet Pea shoved his head back under the blankets. “I thought we could get a group together and head to the city to see the ball drop?” Y/n said pulling the blanket from his face and flashing your best puppy dog eyes. You knew this was a long shot, but waking up early gave you more opportunity to beg.

“You know how I feel about this time of year..” He said obviously uncomfortable, “Why don’t you just tag along with Toni and Cheryl or something? That sounds like more their kind of scene.” He got out of bed and retreated to the bathroom.

Making your way to the kitchen you decide to make Pea’s favorite breakfast—French toast. As he shut off the shower, you set the small kitchen table with two plates, a plate piled high of French toast, and started a pot of coffee. Sweet Pea gives you a sly look as he emerges from the door way.

“Smells good babe.” He says as you both slide into your normal seats across from each other. We both devoured the food and drank cups of coffee, while entertaining small talk and both clearly avoiding the question at hand, until I finally started cleaning the table to do the dishes.

“So what time did you want to leave for the city? It’s only 9:30 a.m. so we have plenty of time if you wa—”

“I’m not going y/n.”, he interrupted as he started for the door.

“What?! You were serious?”

“Yes, I don’t get the big deal. It’s just like every other Monday night.” He scoffed.

“Because I want to spend New Year’s with you!”, y/n pleaded, “Sweets what is your problem? Ever since Christmas you’ve been even more grumpy than normal?”

He sighed. “I’ve just n- never really seen the point in celebrating. When I had a family, we didn’t celebrate and then when I was six on Christmas morning I woke up and they were gone. I was all alone.” His voice cracked as he struggled to get the words out. I crossed the kitchen towards him and pulled him to sit on the couch.

“So this time of year has always been associated with pain and loneliness... I’m not usually with anyone and my relationships haven’t made it past hooks up in years. I knew it would be hard being around you because you love Christmas and holidays and I-I just didn’t want to ruin them for you with my problems.”

“Oh, Pea.” I placed my fingers on his chest and looked into those big brown eyes, “You could never bother me, and I want your problems to be my problems. The day I said yes to dating I signed up for that. I’m so sorry, I didn’t know they did that to you on Christmas..”

Sweet Pea didn’t say anything, but I felt his grip tighten on my hand, and his thumb tracing circles. I laid my head on his chest and we sat like that for a while. Until I realized what needed to be done today. Pea’s phone rang from the bedroom and as he went to answer it I shot a quick text to a group chat, that included everyone expect Sweet Pea.

   Serpent Meeting, Noon, @ pop’s (Don’t tell him Fangs)

“Hey babe. Some older serpents called and they really needed my help with a job today.” He explained as he threw on his serpent jacket.

“Be safe please. And call me when you’re on the way home.”, even though you were a serpent you couldn’t help but feel anxious when Sweet Pea went on jobs.

As you made your way into the pop’s, you knew it would be empty because most people were preparing for tonight’s festivities. Jughead and Betty were sitting next to each other in a booth, no doubt working on Riverdale’s latest mystery and Toni and Cheryl were sitting across the bar from one another.

“Alright Y/N, what was so important that I had be here this early?” Cheryl retorted.

Y/N rolled their eyes, “Once Fangs and Kevin get here, I’ll tell everyone. Calm down Cheryl.”

“Early? It’s noon.” Jughead pointed out laughing.

“You and cousin Betty may stay up all hours of the night sleuthing, but some of us actually like to sleep. Plus TT kept me up last night.” Cheryl said shooting a smirk across the counter.

The group erupted with TMI’s, gags, and laughs coming from Cheryl and Toni, as Fangs and Kevin finally showed up.

“Thank god you two finally showed up!” Betty remarked, escaping the previous conversation.  

“So Y/N now that we’re all here, what was the reason for this urgent serpent & co meeting?” Kevin asked.

“I’m sure you all realized how much more grumpy Sweet pea was around Christmas. And today I was begging him to come to the city with me to celebrate New Years and I finally found out why he hates the holiday season so much.”

“What does this have to do with us?” Cheryl asked, “so the giant is a little more grumpier than normal, what’s new?”, she said shrugging.

Fangs sighed. “He told you why, Y/N?” I nodded in response, averting my eyes towards the ground.

Fangs crossed the room towards me, putting his arm around and squeezing my shoulder. “Hey, I’ve never known him to tell any of his exes about that, he must really love you, ya know that right?”, he whispered in my ear.

“I do. Thank you Fangs. And that’s why I need all of your help. I want to show Sweet Pea just how loved he really is by the family, that he has right here in Riverdale.”, I said.

“What did you have in mind?”, Betty asked.

“I thought we could throw our own New Year’s party.. at possibly Thistle house?”

“Of course.” Toni replied. “At least I get to throw a party I guess.” Cheryl added in.

“Great. So, we’ll need some decorations, and of course drinks. It is New Year’s after all.” Kevin stated, “Fangs and I can take care of getting that stuff.”

“I had an idea for a makeshift ball drop.. I know we could just watch it on tv but I feel like actually having one in person would give a better effect. I saw some tutorials online that said something about wrapping paper and a foam ball.” I confessed.

“Jug and I can help with that. I have some left over Christmas wrapping that we could use. ”, Betty suggested.

We all left Pop’s with plans, supplies to gather, and agreed to meet at Thistle house two hours later. Betty, Jughead, and I head to her house to work on the makeshift ball drop.

“The tutorial said we should glue strips of the foil wrapping paper onto the ball. It recommended covering it in glitter for an even better effect.”, I said, “which I was almost positive you would already have some laying around, Betty.”

“I’m sure I have some around here.” She said as she started digging through her desk drawers.

“Then Jughead once we get to Thistle house, I’ll need your help to suspend the ball from the ceiling using an eye screw and a pulley to control it.”

“Can do.” Jughead smirked, as betty and I got busy covering the foam ball.

We were the last group to show up to Thistle house. Toni and Cheryl had invited some other serpents and Kevin and Fangs had brought decorations and alcohol for the party. Everyone was decorating the huge living room and parts of the backyard.

“Wow guys! This looks amazing.. Thank you, really. This means a lot to me.” , I said looking around at all the work they had put in.

“We bought some snacks, plenty of alcohol, and even some fireworks for tonight.” Kevin bragged.

Jughead and Kevin got to work to hang the ball from the patio overhang in the backyard. Cheryl even brought out a spotlight to illuminate the ball during the drop. Everything for tonight was falling into place.

“So how are you planning to get him here?”, Betty asked.

I paused and glanced towards Toni. “I was thinking you could call him and come up with something to get him over here?”

“Say no more.”, Toni smirked as she pulled out her phone.

Serpents had starting showing up around nine p.m. And just like clockwork, I got a text from Pea right after Toni called him.

                       Otw to Toni’s babe. Be home soon

We made sure everyone’s vehicles were parked out back and the music wasn’t too loud while we waited for him. As the roar of his engine came down the road and pulled in the drive way, I got everyone situated in the living room out of sight of the front door.

BANG BANG BANG

“Alright Topaz. Where is this emergency? I have to be home soon.”, Pea explained.

“Why?”

“I don’t really care about New Year’s but it means a lot to y/n so I want to be there.”, he said.

“Aw—”

“Don’t start with me. You want my help or not?” He retorted cutting her off.

“C’mon, it’s in the living room.”

As soon as I heard his voice I started questioning everything. Did I make the right choice? Is he going to hate this? Will this make him feel even more lonely? It didn’t really matter now, his footsteps were fast approaching the living room and there was no time for second thoughts.

“What the hell is this?”Sweet Pea asked gesturing to the silver and gold streamers hanging in between him and the living room.  

Jughead flicked the lights on and the crowd erupts with cheers. As Fangs runs towards his best friend bursting through the curtain of streamers and jumping on him. “Happy New Year’s!”

The room filled with laughter as the two serpents fell to the floor, some joining in and jumping on the boys, and the party was in full force. Sweet Pea managed to get up and escaped Fangs’ grip, and we made eye contact from across the room. His long legs took no time to make the strides in my direction.

“You.. this is what you’ve been doing all day while I was gone?” He smirked as he put his arms around my waist.

“Maybe, but I can’t take all the credit.”

“Who else would do this for me?”, he asked.

“Oh I don’t know. The bonkers serpent who attacked you when you came in the living room, or the girl who got you here, or even Cheryl who volunteered her house, or Betty and Jughead that helped me with a big project today.” He laughed as I listed off the other people who helped, “Your family, Sweets, that’s who.”  

He wrapped his arms around me and kissed my forehead as he whispered in my ear. “I love you y/n. I can’t promise I’ll ever love the holidays but with you by my side, they will be a lot more bearable.”

We found the rest of our friends, and spent the night dancing and drinking. Playing party games with other serpents, sitting around the fire, shooting off fireworks, and all the while him not letting you out of arms reach. At about 11:50 the alarm on my phone went off to remind me about the ball drop.

“What was that?”, Pea asked.

Toni heard the alarm and went to find Cheryl.

CLINK CLINK CLINK

Cheryl tapped a fork against her glass and yelled over the music. “Everyone go to the backyard for Sweet Pea’s surprise from Y/N.”

“What’s going on?” Pea asked. I grabbed his hand and pulled him out the door into the backyard. Kevin turned on the spotlight to illuminate the makeshift ball. Sweet Pea’s face lit up when he noticed the double headed serpent emblem drawn onto the sparkling ball.  

“I know it doesn’t quite compare to the real deal, but we tried to make it special? I thought if I couldn’t bring you to the city, I’d bring the ball drop to Riverdale.”

Sweet pea sighed. “It’s perfect y/n. This is so much better than anything the city could offer.” He said as he pulled you into his chest.

Fangs came up from behind and squeezed between us. “Three minutes until the ball drop lovebirds!”

“What’re you doing over here? Where’s Kevin?” Sweet Pea asked and Fangs was gone again.

Pea laughed as Fangs ran frantically looking for Kevin. We went back to holding onto each other, and I couldn’t shake the feeling of this morning. How broken and sad he felt, thinking back on how holidays made him feel.

“I hope you’ve had fun tonight, Sweets.” I said.

“Are you kidding? This is the best New Year’s I’ve had… well, ever y/n.” Pea gulped. “And you’ve done the most of anyone to ensure that. So I do owe you a thank you. No matter how grumpy I got, you didn’t give up. You showed me who really cares, and you’ve showed me who my real family is.”

I was in awe. Sweet Pea had finally realized he did have a family. Maybe not blood, but he had a group of people who would go to the ends of the Earth for him. Before I could say anything, everyone started counting down as Jughead lowered the Serpent ball down from the top.

Five…Four…Three…Two… One…

Sweets grab you by your waist as you wrapped your arms around his neck. The smile that spread across his lips was enough to melt you into a puddle on the floor. Everyone around you erupted into cheers and hollers to ring in the new year. Your lips met as you felt the caress of his warm lips press against yours. Softly at first and then with a swift gradation of intensity as you parted your lips, biting his lip you pulled away with a smirk. Sweet Pea knew how quickly he could get you going.

“Happy New Year babe.” He said planting a kiss on your forehead.

“Happy New Year, Sweets.” I said without being able to contain the grin from my face. “I have a feeling 2019 is going to be our year.”

A loud boom brought them from their trance. Fangs, Kevin, and Jughead were on the other side of the back lawn shooting off fireworks.

“C’mon man, you gotta do the finale!” Fangs yelled.

Any feedback is appreciated! :) Hope everyone had a great holiday season and has a happy 2019 ♡

[kerasdnd]

Banished

Table of Contents 

I woke up to shouts from downstairs, and they were getting closer. "Damn it Draco I wasn't ready," I growled as I threw off my covers. Since the house was five stories with the attic and each level was about ten feet tall, it was going to be a minute before my uncle got to my door. I grabbed my wand as I got out of bed and flung open my closet and dresser. I could only do small spells wandlessly and what I had to do was going to be on way to big of a scale. I opened my trunk and cast expansion and feather-light on it. I didn't bother getting changed from my sweats and tank top. I just charmed all my clothes and toiletries into my trunk. Then my favorite books and my school stuff. I heard Lucius and Draco just a floor below me. I quickly shrank my trunk and put it in my bag, which was lying next to it. My uncle was right outside my door when I tossed my speaker and iPod into my bag as well. Then my door shattered open. "Lyra, What's this I hear about you saving Gryffindors from a troll?" Lucius roared as he pointed his wand at me. I saw Draco in the doorway behind him being held back by my aunt. Lucius stalked toward me but I held my ground. "Of course I saved my fellow students. It's how I'm to get in the Professors' good graces," I said as I tightened my hold on my wand. Lucius backhanded me so quickly that I didn't have time to react in my half-awake state. I felt his ring catch my skin and gouging me from my right temple to the inner corner of my left eye. Growling in pain I flung a protection spell at my doorway so my aunt and cousin wouldn't get hurt by what was about to happen next. I stood tall against my uncle as he yelled, "Who the fuck said you had to get in anyone's good graces except for fucking mine huh?" He swung at me again but I was awake now. I ducked and moved away from my bed. "That's a trick question uncle. Because you told me to be the best of the best. Which means getting into the professors' graces. Now you want me just be your good little girl?" I asked circling him.

I stopped in front of the doorway so that I was in between him and the other two. Lucius laughed, "You couldn't be good even if you tried. Or have you forgotten who your parents are?" He pointed his wand at me. My eyes went wide as he said, "Crucio." Pain erupted from my body causing me to fall to the ground. Only it wasn't my body, the pain was coming from my brain. I knew I wasn't actually hurt, but I couldn't stop my body from acting like it was. "You do remember that your mother is Bellatrix Lestrange correct? And that your father could very well be the darkest wizard in the known Wizarding world?" Lucius asked when he canceled the curse. I picked up my wand, got up from the floor and brushed off my knees, casting a rooting spell as I did. "You're correct. My mother is Bellatrix Lestrange. However, my father is Rudolf Lestrange." I stood tall and looked him in the eyes before I continued. "You seem to need to be reminded that I bring the Black's passion for everything that they do and combine it with the Lestrange's cunning. I am a Pureblood Heir and refuse to take this abuse any longer!" With that, I flicked my wand and exploded my bed. The explosion threw Lucius into the wall by the doorway. I dispelled the rooting spell and turned to my uncle. "You're banned from my house and my name.You have ten minutes. Get your shit and get out," he growled as he got up and left.

Draco and Narcissa moved out of his way and looked at me. I grinned and picked up my messenger bag. "Pretty decent for a ten-minute warning, huh, Draco?" I asked walking passed them. I heard Draco chuckle as he followed me down. " I thought you were ready last night since you were dancing with everyone instead of being on guard," he replied. I could hear Narcissa's light steps follow Draco, but she didn't say a word. The three of us walked down and to the door. My uncle, well now ex-uncle, was waiting. he opened the door and pushed me out. Draco caught my arm so I wouldn't fall. "I'll escort her through the gardens, as you taught me, Father," the boy said placing my hand in his elbow. Lucius almost protested until my aunt elbowed him. As we walked I heard Draco mutter, "Dobby, take Lyra's broom to her when she gets out of sight of the Manor." We didn't speak when we got to the edge of the garden. Instead, Draco bowed deeply, deeper than he would his mother. I smiled and curtsied the best I could in my sweats. Then he walked back to his parents. Lucius had a triumphant smirk on his face. Narcissa's face was blank. Draco walked up the steps back up to his parents. When he turned around he mouthed, "Good luck." Then snow started falling. I nodded and left the Malfoy Manor for what I hoped was a few years longer than I thought.  True to Draco's order, Dobby appeared when I couldn't see the grounds anymore. The elf held out my broom with a grim expression. "What is it Dobby?" I asked as I took it from his hands. "Dobby can no longer help Mistress Lyra," he said. I patted the elf on his head. "You will be able to in the future. For now how about a parting gift?" I asked. Dobby nodded, ready for the request. "I just need you to get me to the Leaky Cauldron. Can you do that?" I wasn't trying to be demeaning. I just knew house elves could only do so much for people they aren't in service to. Dobby grabbed my hand and disapparated with me as a side along. When I could breathe again, we were outside the pub in a snowy London. I turned to thank Dobby but he was already gone. I smiled sadly and turned back to the door of the pub. I took a deep breath and went inside.

It was pretty busy for it being the Morning of Christmas Eve, but I made my way to the bar. Finding an empty bar stool on the corner, I sat down and waited. "What's a small thing like you doing here? Where's your parents?" the barkeep asked as he came over. "Azkaban, technically. My official guardian just disowned me. I have no idea where my aunt is. And my godfather isn't awake yet so I can't floo message him and ask if I what to do," I stated without flinching. To his credit, neither did he. "The Lestrange kid then? I just saw Hagrid. Maybe he can get you back to the school at least," he paused and looked at me, "You are in Hogwarts by now right?" I nodded and he smiled. "Alright then. You just sit right here and I'll find Hagrid. I'm Tom by the way." Tom called over one of his waitresses to man the bar and went off into his pub. Minutes later, he and Hagrid were standing in front of me. "Yer the student who needs ta go back?" Hagrid asked gruffly. I looked up at him and finally realized why they were staring at me concerned. I was still in my PJs and could feel blood dripping from multiple places. "Please, sir. I need to talk to the Headmaster and Severus," I pleaded softly looking around. Hagrid agreed after a few nudges from Mr. Tom. He then picked me up and walked outside. For the second time today, I was sucked into the blackness of disapparating. We apparated into Hogsmeade. Hagrid put me down and headed into the door next to us. I could see the Castle from here so I mounted my broom and flew up to it. When I got to the grounds, I ran into a barrier. Groaning, I landed in front of the gate leading to the grounds from Hogsmeade. I dug through my bag and pulled out my hoodie and jacket. Putting both on, I also cast a warming charming. I sat down in the snow and resigned myself to waiting for the groundskeeper to be done with his day. 20 minutes later I heard noise coming from the other side of the gate. I turned and saw McGonagall stomping through the snow toward me. I sprung up in relief. "Professor!" I called out. She stared in surprise before hurrying to the gate. "Ms. Lestrange what are you doing out here?" she demanded. I shifted my weight and looked away as I said, "I'm not really a Slytherin. My House is technically Hogwarts, itself, according to the Sorting Hat." The professor chuckled, "I didn't doubt you were you, Ms. Lestrange. Come. Let's get you inside and to Madame Pomfrey." She opened the gate and lead me inside.

The Head Nurse was not happy to see me, "What happened to you, child? Better yet don't tell me. Take off those clothes and change into the ones on the bed. Quickly now." As it was only the three of us, I didn't bother closing the curtain as I changed. When I was done, Madam Pomfrey did a check over me and healed the cuts that weren't superficial. She commented my use a warming charm to ward off frostbite. She then ordered me to stay wrapped up in the bed for the day. For the first time that day, I cast the time charm and saw it was already noon. Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Severus came to the Hospital wing around three. "Lyra what were you thinking?" Sev demanded as he swooped to the chair next to me, "You could've gotten hurt or worst killed!" I sat up, saying, "I guess Draco finally got a floo message to you." Madam Pomfrey then stormed out of her office. "And this child is already hurt. She's been getting beaten regularly for at least two years. And don't even try to deny it. Narcissa may be a decent healer but she is not a professional," she snapped when I opened my mouth to protest. I instantly closed my mouth and looked down at my hands. "Lyra, tell us what's happened today," Dumbledore said. And I did. I left out anything about my plan, visions,  or Draco getting hurt. "Why didn't you tell me?" Sev asked concerned. I shrugged, "You never broke through my walls."

I caught a glimmer of hurt in my godfather's eyes before I turned to Dumbledore. "It's safe to say that I'll be staying here for the rest of the holiday and future holidays. However I don't know where my aunt Andromeda is currently so I don't know where I'll be going during the Summer," I stated calmly. "We'll figure it out. For now, rest and focus on your studies. I'm sure Madam Pomfrey is willing to allow you to leave the hospital wing and go back to the Slytherin Common rooms," McGonagall answered looking pointedly at the other woman. All the adults nodded and I was released from bed rest. I quickly changed into some regular clothes and was escorted down to the dungeons. Severus didn't speak until we got to the hidden door, "You do realize that you could always come live with me, Lyra." I looked up at him and said, "We both know that you would be banned as well if I did. And you need to be able to watch over Draco since I'm not there anymore." we both sighed and parted ways. I slumped in front of my fireplace and watched the flames. I didn't know how long I was sitting there until one of my housemates roused me for dinner. I got up and walked with them though I wasn't hungry. I gave a vague answer when they asked why I was back early. I didn't actually eat that night. I was planning. When we were reasonably allowed to leave the Great Hall, I did. But I didn't go to the Common room. I went to my new little house by the Whomping Willow. I cast Lumos and was greeted by a playful swat from the Willow then she lifted her roots for me. Right before I descended into the tunnel, I heard, "And where do you think you're going?" I turned around to see Professor Fenwick standing a few feet away with his arms crossed. "To a space I call my own. Would you like to join me, Professor?" I asked waving my hand towards the tunnel.

The Charms Professor smiled and walked ahead of me. I followed and the tunnel expanded to allow us to walk unhindered. Professor Fenwick seemed impressed when the touches lit then diminished as we passed into another's range. "Excellent use of charms, Ms. Lestrange. Most extraordinary that you would be able to keep these going," He commented. I smiled but kept quiet. We walked in silence until we got to my little house. I opened the door and smiled as I said, "Please come in. Can I make you some tea?" The dwarf nodded as he examined the room in front of him. I placed my bag on the bar and began the process of making tea. "How did you come by this, Lyra?" he questioned as he wandered over to the office area. "The Willow showed me mid-November I believe. I asked one of the Malfoys' house elves to help me clean and redecorate." I pulled out some biscuits and tarts to go with the tea as I spoke. I placed the food on plates and took them to the coffee table. My answer seemed to bother the professor but he didn't say anything. I finished the tea minutes later and we sat for our snack. "Lyra do you know where this actually is?" he asked some moments later. I thought about it for a second before replying, "I'm assuming off Hogwarts grounds since you seemed very worried. However not as worried as you would be if it wasn't in sight of the grounds. So I'm going to guess that we're sitting somewhere in Hogsmeade. And since no ones come to visit whenever the fire's lit and I'm here. I'm going to assume that we're residing in the Shrieking Shack. Oh, don't give me that look, Professor. I have classes with the third years and am the youngest on the Slytherin Quidditch team. Did you really expect me not to know about the seemingly haunted house?" Fenwick chuckled and nodded before asking me how often I come here. "I come here when I have a particularly large amount of work that I need to be done," I answered. We drank, ate, and talked until it was time for curfew.

I didn't get up when we realized this. "Professor, How much do you know about my early appearance?" I asked setting down my cup. "The normal professors only know that you're no longer considered part of the Malfoy Bloodline. But as I'm sure you know, Only Narcissa's Disown will truly impact your standing as an Heir. All though Professor Sprout and I know the full story as you are also part of our Houses." He smiled over at me, "It's one of the reasons I followed you and accepted your invitation. Lyra, if you feel safe enough here after what you've been through, I'm sure we can talk the others into allowing you to move in here." I stared in shock before recovering and smirking. "Well Thank you, Professor. However, what's your verdict on my mental health as I'm sure that was the real motive behind this chat," I guessed. Professor Fenwick looked at me for a moment before getting up and walking to the door. I quickly matched him and grabbed his coat from him. "I know you're a master manipulator and great with Legilimens. It's also no secret that you take extra courses with Professors Snape, McGonagall, and Quirrel over the weekends and have Quidditch practice to keep track off on top of all your class work," he said pulling on his jacket. I waited patiently for the answer to my question. "Take up another lesson with me. We'll dive into the working of the human brain and see why the other therapist never diagnosed you correctly," he offered with a gleam in his eye.

"And when would I be able to fit that in, Professor?" I asked honestly confused. He simply chuckled and left with a swift, "Make sure you come to dinner for the rest of break so no one thinks you up and left again." I watched him walk out of sight and then closed the door. I stretched and looked around the room. I walked over to the kitchen counter and opened my bag. Reaching in I grabbed out my speaker, trunk, and iPod. I walked upstairs to the bedroom. Setting my trunk on the floor in front of the foot of my bed, I waved my hand and enlarged it. I placed the other items on the nightstand and turned on Impossible by Shontelle. I then turned back to the trunk. Opening the lip I saw that even though I just kinda threw the cloths into the luggage, everything was perfect. I tilted my head and then shrugged. I turned to the closet and dresser, opening everything up. I then pulled out my wand. with a flick, everything went to its proper place. Even the books flew downstairs to join the library. I laid down on the bed and pulled out my schedule. I had Quidditch Practice on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. My normal classed during the week. Legilimens with Snape Saturday Mornings when there weren't games. Animagus study with McGonagall Saturday afternoons. Dark arts and advanced DADA with Quirrel Sunday morning. The only spot I had open was Sunday afternoons. I bit my lip in thought. I could do it as long as I keep up with my homework schedule and don't slack off. Sighing, I wrote onto the piece of parchment "Psychology Professor Fenwick" in the available slot. The words glowed for a moment before settling onto the paper. "Well, I guess that settles that. Off to do homework!" I exclaimed getting up. I gathered the electronics, turned off the bedroom light, and headed back downstairs. I started more tea, set the electronics up on the coffee table, and went to work in the Library area. It was around three in the morning when I finally caved and went to bed.

I stared at Quirrel in contempt. I could see the Dark Lord coming out of the back of his courtesy of the mirror behind him. I watched them tempt Harry but I could do nothing to stop him. This was his fight and his alone. I watched as a lump appeared in his pants pocket as he lied about what he saw in the mirror. He then backed up and defied the Dark Lord's wishes. I sighed in relief. For once I woke from a vision with a smile on my face. I groaned as I sat up though. Rubbing my neck I looked around the room. It was the same as last night so I threw off my covers and got out of bed. After quickly hand making my bed I jumped in the shower. I put on some jeans and a plain black long sleeved shirt. I rummaged through my dresser and pulled out some fluffy socks since I didn't plan on leaving for the castle until around 4:45. I looked at the time and saw it was only 11. I blow dried my hair and french braided it. Walking down the stairs, I rubbed my eyes. I yawned and headed straight toward the kitchen. I put the kettle on and pulled down some cereal. I quickly made tea and ate breakfast. Then I did the dishes for breakfast and last night. After I dried them and put them away, I turned around and finally realized that someone had been in my house. Last night there hadn't been any decorating whatsoever. Today there was a tree in the corner of the living room.  Tinsel lined the fireplace and an empty stocking hung over the entrance. Mistletoe hung over the door to the Castle. On the coffee table was a note sitting next to a plate of cookies. I walked over and sat down on the couch, picking up the note. Lyra, I hope you have a Happy Christmas this year. I took the liberty of sending some decorations to lighten up your new home. Your cousin, Tonks. I chuckled and looked at the tree once again. Of course, they would know by now.  Then I spied something under the tree. Getting up, I smiled. There was a small pile of presents sitting ready to be opened. I gently gathered them and placed them on the table next to the cookies. Before I settled down, I went and made another cup of tea.

New Cup in hand, I sat down and opened the first gift. The card said it was from Theo. I looked at the small package trying to guess what it was. "Some kind of jewelry," I decided aloud and then unwrapped it. I was now holding a velvet case that would definitely hold jewelry. I opened the top and inside was a beautiful teardrop necklace with a red stone as the centerpiece. I smiled and held it up to the light. Knowing Theo, the stone was a natural Blood Diamond. Shaking my head I sat it back in its case and set the case aside. I nibbled on a cookie as I read the next card. It was from Blaise, saying, "So your notes don't blend together and your emotions don't get you down." I opened the present to find Chocolate frogs and color changing ink. I smiled and placed them with Theo's necklace. The next was from the whole Tonks family saying, "remember that you're always loved." They got me a fidget ring that had a cheering charm woven into it. I slide it onto my right middle finger without a second thought. Placing the packing aside, I opened more sweets from Crabbe and Goyle. A few from other Heirs that were mainly ink and Every Flavor Beans. The next gift was a purple knitted sweater with an 'L' on it and mince pies. Confused I looked at the card and saw that the Twins had convinced their mother to send me something. I was even more confused but I slid the sweater over my shirt. It fit me perfectly and I smiled softly. I moved onto the next one, which was from the over-enthusiastic Dravin. I laughed at the Quidditch books and broom polish but I also understood. I got up and placed the books on my desk. Then I placed the polish with my broom kit on the elephants. I curled back up on the couch and pulled the next gift into my lap.  I tore the wrapping and saw Jack Skellington looking at me. I giggled in glee as I picked it up and looked at the back. Jack was looking to the left and had the words, "Her Jack" over his head. I knew it was Pansy because we begged our adults to buy the matching jackets for Christmas, saying that they were going to be our presents to each other. I made sure to grab a size too big for me so I could wear another jacket under it during the winter time. I slid it on over the Sweater Mrs. Weasley made me in satisfaction. I opened Draco's gift next. The gift contained a pair of stud earrings, probably from his mother to be honest. I inspected the gems closer and saw them change from green-blue to red-purple. "They're Alexandrite!" I exclaimed in awe. The earrings had to of cost a fortune, but then again the Malfoy's loved flaunting their money and would never buy something fake just to save a few pounds.

I bit my lip and placed them with the other presents. opening a chocolate frog, I picked up the last gift. The card mysteriously said, "Dragonscales of the Dragon Queen." I tilted my head at the mystery and opened the box. Inside was a silver chainmail bracelet. Looking closer I noticed bands of purple peeking through the silver. I admired the piece of jewelry and realized that the weave really did look like dragon scales. I giggled and gathered up the presents. I placed the sweets in the kitchen and took the jewelry upstairs. I did a time check and it was almost 1. I had some time and went to figure out an outfit that would bring all these gifts together. Right at 430 pm, I settled on a pair of black skinny jeans, a simple white t-shirt, and my normal boots. I slid the studs into my earlobes and the necklace around my neck. I fluffed out my hair and parted it to the right so it would hide the scar on my face. I placed my sweater and jacket back on. Pulling up my hood to protect my ears from the cold, I decided to place the bracelet on my left wrist. I stepped out of my little house and started walking towards the castle grounds through the tunnel.

I was greeted by a playful flick from the Willow 20 minutes later. I smiled and wished her a happy Christmas. I headed towards the castle with a sigh. To be honest I was only going to the feast so that I would be left alone for the rest of the time. I stood outside the Great Hall for a good five minutes debating on if I should even go in before my decision was made for me. "Oi! Lestrange! What are you all dressed up for?" a male voice blasted from the stairs behind me. "More importantly didn't you leave on the train a week ago? What are you doing here?" a matching voice questioned right after. I turned to face the voices and found the Twins walking towards me and the Great Hall. I wasn't all surprised that they were just getting to the feast. I was that they knew I left at all. They stopped in front of me. "Well?" Fred asked raising an eyebrow. I just looked up at the two boys then into the Great Hall and back. My instincts were screaming, "Danger! Say the wrong thing and you'll regret it!" I rolled my shoulders and looked down. Deciding to ignore the question of why I was at the school, I bowed slightly and said, "Please pass my gratitude to your mother for the gifts. And thank you for convincing her to send me something." They blinked at me in surprise. Before they could say anything, Professor Fenwick appeared in the doorway next to me. "Ah, so I see that you did decide to join us for dinner, Lyra," he squeaked. "Yes sir, however," I looked towards the Twins and back down at my feet, "I was wondering if I could be excused to my rooms for the night." I waited silently for an answer.

"Lyra why are you acting so meek? Did something happen at home?" Fred was the first to break the heavy silence. Professor Fenwick cleared his throat, taking the attention off me once again. "That was not our agreement. Come you can sit anywhere you'd like today. There are no Houses on this Night," he stated as he walked back into the Great Hall. I frowned but followed the Professor into the Hall. As I looked up from my feet, I saw wreckage and death. The Great hall was in shambles. It's tables pressed against the walls. The flags that normally hang down from the ceiling were in tatters. Even half the roof was gone. In the middle of the room were people grouped around bodies. I spotted a group of certain redheads gathered around a group of bodies. I could see from my spot, that one of the bodies also was a ginger and my heart lurched. I wanted to go and cry with them, but I noticed dust moving without something moving it. Instead of mourning with my adoptive family, I turned and followed the moving dust.

I opened my eyes to find the Twins leading me to the Gryffindor Table. I felt tears falling from the corner of my eyes as I glazed over the Weasleys that were present. Who was going to die before I save all of them? I tried to back away from the table, but couldn't because of arms wrapped around my waist. "Lyra, breath. It's okay," I heard Fred whisper in my left ear. "No one here is going to hurt you," George joined in on my other side. I shook with fear and anger towards myself. However, I sat down where they placed me, looking down at my hands. "Boys, who's this?" I heard being asked. "Percy there's no way you haven't heard of Lyra Lestrange. The prodigy Slytherin that takes three years worth of courses, extra courses with Snape, Quirrell, and McGonagall, and is on the Slytherin Quidditch Team," Ron answered. I heard the disgust in his voice and tried not to flinch. I heard Harry chuckle, "Yeah she makes Hermione seem downright sane." I did flinch at that. "What? Don't like being compared to a Gryffindor Muggle-born?" someone hissed. I started spinning my ring. "I don't care about who you compare me to. Ms. Granger is just so much brighter than I am," I muttered just loud enough for them to hear. Dinner was served then and everyone around me dug in. I sat there, not eating. After a minute or so I pulled out my sketchbook and a pencil. I looked around and started sketching the scene around me. The Twins and Percy were arguing over something. Ron and Harry were talking about Quidditch. The professors were mingling at the Head Table.I had some of the Hufflepuff table in my view so I sketched it as well. "Why aren't you eating?" I jumped at the question. I looked up from my drawing to see literally everyone around me staring at me and my empty plate. I felt my cheeks warm as I realized exactly why I wasn't eating. "I... Um... I," I stuttered before taking a deep breath. "I  have had it beaten into me that a Female Heir does not plate her own food. A Male Heir does," I finally answered in a soft voice. I noticed that dinner was now dessert and it was acceptable to leave the table. I stood up and bowed to the Weasleys and Harry, "Thank you, but please excuse me." I gathered my book and pencil. Then I turned and gave a short bow the Head Table. I saw three waves of dismissal. Sighing in relief, I quickly exited the Great Hall and went back to my rooms. I paused at the Willow and leaned my head against her trunk. "Why am I always like this?" I asked the empty air. I closed my eyes and breathed. Now steady, I went into the tunnel.

I opened my door and shredded my Jack jacket. I hung it up on my coat holder before pulling off my boots. I then made myself some tea. Looking through my cupboards I realized I had the stuff to make some chicken and rice. I started cooking instantly. 30 minutes later I was eating my dinner and looking over a book passage. It was about how Animagi were affected by Werewolf Curse. I tagged it for a later date. Closing the book, I realized that What's This by Danny Elfman was playing. The version I had, however, was the FallOut Boys version. I sang along as I started cleaning up the dishes and wrapping papers. It was only midnight when I went to bed and fell asleep. I woke up to someone knocking on my door to the grounds. Grumbling to myself, I pulled on my dressing robe and went downstairs. Another set of knocks could be heard as I got to the door. "Prove who you are?" I yawned not caring for the first answer. "You are the New Headmaster and probably the only head I can't break into," I heard Severus spat at the door. I unlocked the door and went to put on tea.

The door opened and the Potions Master stepped into my living room. "So this is where you've been hiding," He stated looking around. "It's 10 am. What do you want?" I asked, making myself some breakfast. "To ask what last night was all about. You first wouldn't come into the Hall without professor Fenwick coming to get you. Then you freeze and the Weasley boys took you to the Gryffindor Table without a fight," He said. I just shrugged. He growled at me. I flicked my wrist at him, wrapping him in a voice stealing charm. "Dear uncle, Godfather, Professor. This is my safe place to be. You will not bring any harm to me here do you understand?" I asked placing his cup of tea in front of him. I released the charm and stood there eating my plate of eggs and toast. "Is that why you eat freely here but not at all in the Great Hall?" He asked. I nodded. "Very well. Who else knows about this place?" he questioned looking around once more. I chuckled. "Probably ever Professor who was here when you were still a student," I replied. I caught the shocked look on Severus's face causing me to smile. "How do you know?" he asked, glaring at me. "I read books, Sev." I waved my arm towards my office. I finished my plate while he looked over the books there. "You do realize that some of these books shouldn't be in the hands of an 11 year old correct?" I heard. "Does it matter? It's not like I'm a normal 11-year-old," I said placing my dishes in the sink. I picked up my cup of tea and joined him by the bookshelves. "What do you really want, Sev?" I asked once again, leaning against the desk. "Why did you act meek last night?" The professor looked away from me. "Because I was getting over a vision," I responded. My godfather's head snapped to me, "What visions?" I smirked and tapped my temple. "Maybe you'll find out one day," I tempted him. He huffed and left on that note. I rolled my shoulders in irritation and gathered his cup, placing it in the sink as well. I quickly did the dishes. After I was done, I went to work on the assignments that I've been ignoring for the last two days.

That's how the rest of my break went. I would go to dinner at night, get pestered about why I wasn't eating, and go back home again. When I was home, I would get lost in my projects to pass the time. When school came back in session, I didn't want to move back into the Slytherin dorms. I packed my basic things and went back to my old dorm the same night the rest of the students came back. I was sitting in front of the fireplace when Pansy and Theo burst into the Common Room dragging Draco and Blaise behind them. "What does Draco mean when he says that you've been disowned and kicked out by Lucius over the Holidays?" the two shouted as soon as they saw me. I closed my book and looked up at them. Draco was shifting uncomfortably under Pansy's grip on his arm. Blaise was standing there with his arms crossed, looking at me expectedly. Pansy was distraught and Theo was concerned. I looked beyond the four of them and saw the rest of the House, including Crabbe and Goyle surrounding us in a half moon but still giving space in case a fight breaks out. I sighed and shook my head, causing my bangs to fall over my right eye. "He means exactly that Pans. I'm no longer allowed a claim of anything under the Malfoy Name," I stated calmly. "What does that mean for us?" Theo asked. I tilted my head to the left, "Nothing. I'm still an Heir no matter who disowns me until My Father himself does." They seemed to sigh in relief. "Good now Pansy, let go of Draco," Blaise said laughing. We all chuckled at her blush and she instantly released the younger Malfoy. Blaise motioned for me to sit up and I did so. He sat behind my back and threw his arm over the back of the couch. I leaned against his torso and relaxed as Theo picked up my feet and sat down under them. The rest of the House dispersed from around us. Crabbe and Goyle sat on the floor in front of the couch and pulled out their notes to study. Pansy and Draco took the chairs to the right of the couch and started a game of Wizard's chess. I opened my book backup and started reading again. I watched Theo pull out his sudoku book that I got him for Christmas and turn to the puzzle he left off on. I felt Blaise grab his book and start reading.  I smiled and settled into our norm.

"You weren't at dinner and have lost weight. You might be able to fool Crabbe, Goyle, and Theo. But not me." I looked up and realized that everyone but Blaise and I had gone to bed. I turned my gaze to my friend and waited. "Draco and Pansy already seem to know since they didn't comment on you purposely covering your eye. But the others don't," Blaise stared into my eyes trying to read my expression. I sighed and replied, "Lucius and I got into a fight over my helping save the trio from the Troll on Halloween and my being on the Quidditch team without asking him for permission. He slapped me and then disowned me because I couldn't be the Perfect Heir he and Narcissa wanted me to be. I've lost weight because I haven't been eating as often since Draco and I got into the fight over my eating habits." He stayed unmoving for a moment before nodding. "Come on. You're sleeping in my bed tonight," He said picking me up. "Excuse me?" I asked as he took us to the boys' dorm. "Pansy is staying the room too. She's sleeping in Theo's bed. We can't have Betrothed sleeping together now can we?" he questioned with a wink. I laughed as he pushed open the dorm door. Everyone was already in different stages of sleep when we came in. We both quickly changed and climbed into bed together. Blaise laid on his back and I placed my head on his shoulder curling my legs around his. We fell asleep quickly and I had the first dreamless sleep in a long time. We were woken up by the normal arguing and life went on as normal.

[lavieenprose]

When the loss of romantic love no longer breaks your heart, life finds another way

Last week I heard from a friend who’s heartbroken. The details of her particular situation are incidental; it’s always the same story. As it happens, she’s much younger than I am, but I knew better than to tell her any of the perfectly true things — that she was a brilliant, beautiful young woman and would, without doubt, fall in love again, with someone more deserving of her, that this would pass, that she’d be happy again — that would’ve been of no use to her. I didn’t want to condescend to her as though she were some silly little girl head over heels with hormones, and also didn’t want to sound like some desiccated old person who’s forgotten what it’s like to be in love.

I myself am not unfamiliar with the etiology of heartbreak. Let’s not dwell on this: I’ve written about it at length elsewhere, and it’s frankly embarrassing. A typical scenario involved me curled up on the bathroom floor weeping piteously into a smelly old towel. (“Weeping into the towel” became verbal shorthand for the whole ordeal, one that I’m afraid got wearisomely familiar to my closest friends.) The particular strain of love my young friend was suffering — unrequited, or unavailable — is one of which I made rather a vocation for a couple of decades. In my own experience, a recurring attraction to people who are unavailable usually means you’re not ready to fall in love with someone who is. Some form of love that’s impeded or incomplete (illicit, unilateral, long-distance, epistolary) may be all you can take — or, more importantly, give — at that point in your life. It may be, despite your protestations, what you really want. My friend Margot likes to ask, of people in such situations: “If you weren’t thinking about [x person] all the time, what would you be thinking about instead?” — because the answer is usually what you’re trying to avoid by burying yourself alive in your romantic/sexual obsession.

It’s been over a decade since that last happened to me. I hesitate even to write those words, like a superstitious pitcher afraid to break a streak. My loves used to be operatic; my heartbreaks, Toscan; and my jealousy not just Othelloan but Medean — the kind where you send someone a poisoned dress, murder your own children, and drive off in a chariot drawn by dragons. But my last bout of insane jealousy and rage, which commandeered my brain like a parasite for the better part of a year and had to be extinguished with vipassana meditation, seems to have burned out the circuit in my head. Since then I’ve had whole relationships in which my partner and I saw each other only on weekends, I didn’t know or ask what she did during the week, and the question of whom else she might be sleeping with didn’t seem like any of my business.

Having had so many inconvenient, and frequently disastrous, crushes eventually affords you enough experience, enough of an emotional buffer, that you can learn to recognize them in the early stages and let them discreetly wither instead of cultivating them. If you’re lucky, eventually you get tired of your own pathology, exhausted by all the energy it takes to fall deliriously in love and get horribly heartbroken again and again. Like an addict driven into recovery, you get sick of the endless vacillation between euphoria and agony. In Seymour: An Introduction, Buddy Glass (Salinger’s alter ego) writes: “I can’t be running back and forth forever between grief and high delight.” Ideally, you learn to love in less volatile, precarious ways.

Though even this explanation gives me too much credit: mostly it’s just a matter of deranging chemicals gradually ebbing from my brain. (I tell my girlfriend that I only became datable within the last five years. I think she thinks I’m joking.) But my young friend is still at an age when love really is the most important thing in life — evolutionarily speaking, finding a mate is the most important mission of youth, besides survival — so it’s only natural that she’s deep in the summer storms of endorphins. It’d be facile for me to give her my dumb adult reassurances now that I’m no longer susceptible to those debilitating bouts of infatuation and heartbreak. Equanimity is a virtue of age, not youth. Youth’s virtue is passion — even my students’ angst and ennui are more intensely felt than my own dull depression and boredom.

But I mostly refrained from giving wise older-person advice because I don’t believe there is some state of wisdom we slowly mature toward and eventually attain. (When would that even be — the moment when our personalities are complete and our understanding at its peak? Sometime, presumably, between infantile and senile incontinence.) The problems I had at age seven were no less serious than the ones I have now — they were more serious, in fact, since my current problems do not include any likelihood of being sat on and having my hair pulled. Every age has its own truths, particular to the needs of that phase of life: childhood truths and teenage truths, young-adult and middle-aged ones, and, if we live long enough to learn them, the unwelcome truths of old age. They tend to arrive in the form of retrospect: you really get good at being a kid around age 11 or 12, on the idyllic eve of destruction; you finally feel like you might be getting the hang of adulthood right around the time you’re diagnosed with something that’s not going to go away. An optimistic projection would be that, on our deathbeds, maybe we’ll finally have figured out what life was all about.

These truths also don’t seem to be transferable, at least not backward. When I was a college freshman, we would mock upperclassmen who didn’t go out and get black-out drunk every night — we were never gonna turn into boring old stay-at-home 22-year-olds! There would have been no way for those sagacious juniors to explain to us why they no longer wanted to get drunk nightly, anymore than parents can explain to the childless why all the forfeitures they’ve chosen are worth it. If you were to ask me whether it makes me sad that I haven’t been heartbroken in over a decade (but no one ever asks questions like that), I’d say it makes me a little sad that it doesn’t make me sad. It’d be like missing going out and chugging Jägermeister on a Tuesday. I just don’t want my head to feel like that, ever again.

The other night I was talking with a friend about how relieved we both were to have outgrown the hopeless crushes, doomed affairs, and obliterating heartbreaks of our younger years. We’re no longer capable of hurling ourselves as heedlessly into love as we did back then; we instinctively hedge our affections, the same way you learn, if you survive your teens, not to drive 120 miles an hour on twisty backroads with the headlights off. Later, over a second or maybe third round, we segued into more somber and mature problems: the unbearable sadness of watching the slow dissolution of our parents’ personalities — their forgetfulness, hallucinations, delusions. As an adult, you try to meet this with as much equanimity, compassion, and humor as you can, but some little-kid part of you is enraged at seeing them so diminished, and panicked at being abandoned. After a glum pause, my friend said: “Remember those heartbreaks we said we were lucky to have left behind…?” You could almost hear the whanh-wah-whaaahh — that trombone mock-lament at the end of the sitcom as our heroes realize that the joke, once again, is on them. Punchline being, life’s just one goddamn heartbreak after another.

It’s a truism, post-Freud, that heartbreak feels so eviscerating — regardless of which incidental jerk or wacko it happens to attach to — because it’s really an abreaction, a reenactment of much earlier, more primal losses we’ve forgotten: Oedipal triangles and abandonments, bad breakups with your first loves, whom you never really got over. But causality is only one-way in human perception: you could also interpret them not as repressed memories but premonitions; distant, preliminary shivers of the arctic desolation that awaits us at the other end of life.

Anyway, soon enough I’ll be weeping as I eat this essay, sneering through my tears back at past me, Mr. Smart Guy, who postured as wise and imagined himself past silly afflictions of youth like love and sorrow. I’m about to discover what heartbreak at 52 feels like. The details are incidental; it’s always the same story. This one feels a little like death: I’ve always known it was coming, intellectually; I just didn’t think it would be yet. Now it’s looming like a meteor or tsunami, too late to outrun. Hopefully it won’t be as crippling an experience as it was in my twenties (though the adolescent fear that No One Will Ever Love You Again has a new shadow of plausibility the older you get). Maybe it’ll be like the difference between Tosca or Tchaikovsky’s Pathétique — wrenching, histrionic — and something more like Beethoven’s Cavatina, or Mahler’s Ninth — an exquisite melancholy. Probably it’ll just suck. But I don’t really know, any more than I can know what it’s like to see people who aren’t there, or confuse dreams with memories, or forget your children’s names. But I guess we’ll find out.

[anavoliselenu]

Creighton chapter 11

BILLIONAIRE’S BRIDE FLYING COACH?

Selena Wix, newly married to billionaire Justin Karas, was spotted on a commercial flight from NYC to Nashville, and our sources say she was flying coach. Is there trouble in paradise already? With a fleet of three Gulfstreams, you’d think the billionaire could have arranged a classier ride for his bride. We’ll be reporting back when we have more on the latest match to rock Music City.

The cab ride to the airport took the rest of my cash, and I’m lucky that I’m getting paid next week, because the last-minute flight maxed out my own credit card. I left my new Amex Black Card on the kitchen counter of my new husband’s Fifth Avenue penthouse.

Big sunglasses hide the circles under my eyes, and hopefully my identity. I thought I saw a guy on his phone staring at me a little too long, but I’m not worrying about it. I shouldn’t be that recognizable. This town is full of one-hit wonders, and I haven’t even had a chart-topping single yet. Plus, without all my stage makeup on and my hair in a messy braid, I just look like your average Midwestern girl.

I stretch, trying to work out the knots in my back after sitting through the flight with my arms practically tucked around my body. My middle seat in coach put me right between two very large men who smelled strongly of garlic. I thought about writing, but I didn’t want to move, let alone get my notebook out and have them stare at what I was doing. So I kept myself immobile, which explains the knots in my back.

Anyway, my thoughts were probably too jumbled to do anything more than massacre the song ideas I jotted down today while I waited for Justin. I know I have a good one percolating, but it’s still just out of reach. I can’t find the right words quite yet, which might be to blame on my mental state.

But the upside is I’m back in Nashville, and Tana’s Range Rover is idling at the curb when I step out of the sliding glass doors of the airport.

The window slides down as she waves me over. “Get your ass in here before I get towed!”

I smile, relieved to feel a little of my shitty mood slipping away. Opening the door, I slide inside.

“Your luggage get lost?” She surveys the one small bag I shove down by my feet.

“Nope. This is it.”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “Oh, please God, tell me that he made you go naked and that’s why you have no clothes other than the ones you probably wore when you flew to New York on New Year’s Eve.”

Tana was aware of every intimate detail of my trip, and disagreed with my choice to bring nothing but myself.

I smile at her expression. “No naked rule. I just . . . felt like traveling light.”

Her eyebrows fall back into their normal position and her smile slips into a frown. “Please don’t tell me this has something to do with your mom and her hooking up with every man in town and letting them pay her way.”

And that’s the joy of having a friend who has plied you with enough wine to spill your whole life story. But in this instance, she’s not exactly right. The reasons I left New York are a lot bigger than that.

“Tana—”

“Damn it, Selena. I knew this was going to happen. I knew it.”

I really don’t want to have this conversation now, because Tana will want to dissect not only what happened with Justin, but why I’m acting the way I am. I’m too worried about missing the bus to play along while she psychoanalyzes my actions in light of what she knows about my past. I love her, but I just can’t right now. So I tell her the truth.

“Can we hold off on this conversation until I’m not on the edge of being late for a tour bus leaving? I really, really just want to get to my apartment and grab my stuff so I can get on the bus and forget about everything but the music.”

“You’re not missing the friggin’ bus. I’ll get you home as quick as a cab would.” She gives me a side-eye. “But you’re gonna talk while I drive.”

I sigh and stare straight ahead as she pulls away from the curb and waves to the security guy eyeing her car suspiciously. Her head jerks toward me before she focuses once again on navigating through airport traffic.

“Talk, woman.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“That your husband knows exactly where you are, and you’re not a runaway bride.”

“Har-har. I’m hardly a runaway bride. That requires running away before the vows, I think.”

She cuts through my bullshit answer. “Does your husband know where you are?”

I fix my stare on the red light as we slow. “I left a note.”

“Which said?”

I should have known Tana wouldn’t drop it. She’s a damn bulldog about getting the details. If she weren’t my closest and possibly only friend, I’d tell her to back off. But instead, I tell her the truth.

“It said good-bye.” My reply is a mumble, because I know I’m about to get a verbal bitch-slapping.

Her screech, which is oddly melodic, fills the cabin of the Range Rover. “Why would you do that? Did he hit you?”

I swing my head to face her. “No! Of course not!” I can’t believe she’d even ask that.

She glances back at me before her eyes go back to the road, and we accelerate. “So then, what happened? He’s a billionaire, so maybe he was into that kinky Christian Grey stuff? Did he have a Red Room of Pain? Oh my God, he did, didn’t he? Did he spank you? Bring out his riding crop? Shit. That’s hot.”

I cover my face with my palm. I don’t even know where to start, but I have to say something or she’ll keep going. Her imagination is just getting fired up. And God knows I don’t want her to actually hit on the truth.

But how do I answer that? He did spank me, and I loved it. And then the . . . other stuff. Kinky billionaire, indeed.

“He didn’t get out a riding crop, and there was no Red Room of Pain.”

Thankfully, the answer stops her tide of kinky questions.

Shaking her head, she replies, “Well, that’s just damn disappointing. So, are you just crazy? Who walks out on a billionaire with a note that just says good-bye? Oh, and doesn’t bring anything with her? That’s evidence of crazy right there, if I’ve ever seen any.”

I decide that the truth is all I can offer in my defense. “Look, you know I need to be on that bus or I’m screwed. I couldn’t wait any longer, so I did what I had to do.” I turn and look at her. “I did exactly what you would’ve done in my shoes—what was best for my career.”

“I would’ve hitched a ride on a private jet, that’s what I would’ve done. Girl, you’ve gotta learn to use what you’ve been given to your best advantage.”

Her words crack something open inside me and the truth spills out.

“Well, I couldn’t exactly hop a ride on the private jet because he forgot about me.” At her look of shock, I continue. “Yeah, that’s right. My husband forgot about me. Told me when he’d be there, and he wasn’t. And not only was he not there, he didn’t answer my calls or texts, so finally I got through to his number-two guy and basically got the blow-off speech. So that’s what happened. End of story.”

“Oh shit, honey. I’m sorry. That ain’t cool at all.” Sympathy coats her every word.

“Well, it’s not like I’m the most important piece on the chessboard he calls an empire.”

Tana looks at me sideways as we merge onto the highway. “But, honey, you’re his queen. I don’t know jack shit about chess, but is there a more important piece on the board to the king?”

A sick feeling settles in my stomach. “I guess to Justin, he’s the most important piece on the board, and everything else can be sacrificed for the good of the king.”

Tana’s face falls. “I’m sorry, hon. That sucks big hairy balls. So I guess that means you’re not going to call him and let him know you made it, despite not having a fancy jet to fly on, huh?”

I consider it again. I mean, if I were a real wife, I’d probably tell him I made it. But honestly, what are the odds that Justin has even noticed I’m gone yet? He couldn’t step away for thirty seconds before.

And then there’s the mulishly stubborn part of me holding on to some thin thread of hope that maybe Justin will call me. And then what? Apologize for blowing me off? Tell me he misses me, and he’s on his way because he can’t stand to be away from me?

Each possibility seems more unlikely than the last.

Tana doesn’t ask any other questions as we navigate the traffic and finally pull up in front of my apartment. It’s a far cry from the giant mansion on a sprawling estate behind fancy gates like Tana lives in. But that’s life as a new kid on the block trying to make it big.

My contract with Homegrown might have sounded impressive when I won the show Country Dreams, but “a million-dollar recording contract” doesn’t go very far when you consider how much it costs to produce an album. For the hours I put into practicing, writing, doing press, radio spots, and everything else, I barely make minimum wage. On top of that, my cut from concert ticket and album sales is laughable.

Even though it was a rude awakening to find out exactly what I signed with such stars in my eyes, it doesn’t bother me as much as you might think. Most of the people I know who didn’t get into the business on one of those make-me-a-star TV shows lived in crappier accommodations for a time before they hit it big.

Some even lived in their cars—provided they didn’t get repo’d. Jason Aldean’s song “Crazy Town” was based in truth. You just never know when or if you’re going to “make it.” You really could be losing everything one minute and then be getting a fat paycheck the next. It’s the game we’re all playing and hoping to win. There are no guarantees for any of us.

“Thank you for the ride, babe. You know I appreciate it.”

“Of course. You sure you don’t want me to stick around?”

I shake my head. “I just need to grab a few things and find out where the bus is parked.” Glancing at the time on the dash, I realize I’ve got less than an hour. “I better get going.”

“All right, hon. You break a leg on that stage, hear me? And when that man comes crawling back to you—because if he knows the kind of woman he’s got, he’ll be doing exactly that—give him a chance.”

I swing my head to stare at her. “Give him a chance? I thought you were going to tell me to rip him a new asshole. Why—?”

Tana’s blue eyes are sympathetic. “You’ve got a lot of mistrust built up because of your ma, and you have to realize you’re not her. Your life is what you make of it, and I’m still holding out some hope that this guy is worthy of you. Give him a chance to grovel. A man’s character has a tendency to get really fucking clear when he’s groveling because the best thing that ever happened to him is on the line.”

I try to summon a smile, but I can’t quite do it. “I guess we’ll see if he comes groveling at all.” I lean over the center console to hug her. “See you soon.”

“Knock ’em dead, hon,” Tana says as I slip out of the car.

Hurrying, I adjust my purse over my shoulder and hustle up to my apartment. The first thing I see when I open my door is my old battered guitar case tucked under my coffee table.

My first ever. I fried thousands of onion rings and tater tots in order to buy this guitar from Super Pawn. It took me almost a year to save up, and then when I finally had the cash in hand and went to the pawnshop, the owner offered me a disgusting back-office discount.

Furious, I threw the bills on the counter, not bothering to haggle, and told him to give me the damn guitar before I reported him to the cops for soliciting sex with a minor. It was so much less than what I wanted to do—namely, grab the baseball bat from behind the counter and swing it at his head. I left minutes later with my very first guitar and never looked back.

A million years ago, it seems. Just look how much has changed.

I’m halfway down the tiny hallway to my bedroom when my phone buzzes in my purse. Justin is my first thought. My hand shakes as I dig inside to pull it out.

My heart—my stupid heart—falls when I see the text is from my manager.

Chance: Where the hell are you? You better be on your way. BT is almost ready to head out.

Shit. I run into my bedroom and grab a suitcase from my closet, and stuff handfuls of underwear and bras in it. A few pairs of yoga pants and some T-shirts and jeans, and I’m pretty much packed.

I reply to Chance.

Selena: Just finished packing. On my way. Where’s the bus?

Chance’s answer makes me cringe.

Chance: At BT’s. I left your name at the gate.

Double shit. BT is Boone Thrasher—the headliner of the tour I’m currently on. His place isn’t in one of those fancy neighborhoods behind a regular gate like Tana’s. No, he lives out in the boondocks where he can shoot skeet off his back porch, ride his dirt bikes on his own track, and his dogs can run wild and bark at everything in sight.

If I’m going to get to his place on time, I’ll need every minute I’ve got. I’ve been there once before, when he invited me out to meet him before agreeing to have me on his tour. He wanted to make sure I wasn’t going to be—in his words—some whiny-ass bitch who would make him miserable. We hit it off when I kicked his ass at bowling in his basement lane. You can take the girl out of the bowling alley . . .

Time to get my ass in gear and hustle, but my phone buzzes again.

Chance: Good news. He wants to rehearse that duet you talked about before Christmas. Get your ass here and make it happen.

I toss my phone on the bed and do a little fist pump before tearing off my jeans and blouse to throw on something clean and get the hell out of here. This duet would mean getting to go back out onstage during his set where I can feel the energy coming from his fans when they’re all whipped up and excited for him.

As the first act, I generally play to a less-than-full stadium, when people are a little more concerned about making sure they have full beers than they are about paying attention to my music. Well, except for the fans who actually come to see me.

But this is where everyone starts, I remind myself, and I’m crazy lucky that I’m on tour with Boone Thrasher to begin with. And the duet? That’s huge.

I spend thirty seconds freshening up my makeup and shoving my toiletries in my makeup bag before slipping into the battered brown-and-black cowboy boots I bought for my eighteenth birthday. Which was the fourth birthday in a row that my mama didn’t even bother to send a card.

Pushing that thought away, because it was just one more piece of baggage that Tana was talking about when she dropped me off, I grab my jacket and head for the door.

Despite his badass reputation, Boone’s a good guy. A really good guy. His tiny, gorgeous, chart-topping girlfriend is a lucky lady. But from what I’ve seen of her, I’m not so sure she’s aware of that fact. She’s actually kind of a bitch. And by kind of, I mean, she’s a total Grade-A, possessive, catty bitch.

Not that I’d ever tell Boone that. These lips don’t do the gossip thing. One negative word to the wrong person, and I’d be screwed. So I just keep my opinions to myself. The world of country music isn’t so different from high school.

I lock my apartment door behind me and hoof it down the stairs and out to the covered parking where my 1998 Pontiac Firebird waits for me. And yes, I’m completely aware that what was cool in 1998 is not quite so cool now. Which means that I got a killer deal on it when my 1988 Fiero kicked the bucket just before I got my golden audition ticket for Country Dreams.

I suppose I could buy a little bit newer car with the semi-regular paycheck I get now, but the Firebird still gets me from A to B, and I prefer to save my money for a rainy day. If there’s one thing that I’ve learned about this town, it’s that everything can change in a moment.

Thirty-five minutes later, I pull up at the gates of Boone’s place, and a man built like a brick shithouse comes out of the guard shack and bends down to my window. I open the door—because the window doesn’t work anymore—and he smiles.

“I got the same problem with my Grand Prix. Fucking Pontiacs,” he says.

“You got that right. I’m Selena—”

“Yep. Know who you are, sweet thing. They’re waiting on you. Buses are here and ready to go too.” He backs away from my car and activates the gate opener.

I swing my door shut and drive through. Sure enough, two tour buses are parked in front of the house set off from the road by almost a mile-long driveway. I pull into a small parking lot-size area beside the garage and shut off my car.

I need to get in there and find Chance and make sure he reports in that I wasn’t late before someone at the label starts checking, looking to boot me off. As soon as the thought hits my brain, the man in question knocks on the window of my car and opens the door.

“You need to replace this piece of shit, girl. And why the hell didn’t you answer your phone?”

I frown at Chance. “What are you talking about? I answered your texts.”

He pulls me out of my car by the hand. “Well, you didn’t answer when I called you five times to ask you to pick me up some Johnny Walker on the way. The bus is out, and Boone wants some for the road.”

“Crap. I must’ve had my radio on too loud. It’s on vibrate.” I reach back into my car to grab my purse and start rooting through it to find my phone.

“Your suitcase in the trunk?” Chance asks.

I nod, not looking up from my task, and he reaches around me to pop the trunk. By the time he has my suitcase in hand, I’m starting to panic.

“Where the hell is my phone?” I mumble. “I had it.”

“Come on, girl. Let’s move it. We won’t get to San Antonio with you standing here digging through your purse.”

I jerk my head up and stare at him. “San Antonio? I thought Dallas was next.”

Chance shakes his head. “Nope. That’s why we’re leaving early. Boone signed up to do a last-minute charity gig, and you’re along for the ride. Dallas is after that, so it’s not that far off.”

Dropping my purse on the ground, I bend over and look between the seats and the console to see if my phone slid down. Chance, clearly impatient with me, calls it. I wait, but there’s no telltale buzz or vibration.

“Shit. I must’ve left it in my apartment.”

“No time to go back for it, so you’ll have to have someone get it for you and overnight it to you. I’ll get the hotel address.”

I huff out a long sigh. Shit. I don’t even know if I have Tana’s number to ask her to go back to my place and grab it . . . but then again, I bet Chance or Boone does. Between the two of them, they seem to have everyone’s number in this town.

“You ready to rehearse?”

“What?” I ask, my mind still on how to retrieve my phone.

“The duet. ‘That Girl.’ Boone wants to play some acoustic stuff on the bus, so you’re riding with him. I made sure you’ve got a guitar on there already. Now come on, let’s go.”

Chance leads me by the arm up to the house to say hi to the guys before we all climb up the stairs. All my worries slip away once I let myself fall into the easy bullshitting and name-calling with the guys. And once I’m on the bus with Boone, I let myself go in the music.

It’s a couple of hours and who knows how much whiskey later when we stop so the guys can grab a smoke. I stumble onto my own bus—one that I’ll be sharing with my band and maybe the other opening act, if they don’t have their own bus. No one has seen fit to share that detail with me yet. But because it’s out of my control, I don’t waste any more time thinking about it.

Some drunk hope makes me think that maybe I missed my phone in my search of the purse, so I dump the entire contents out on the kitchenette table.

A handful of tampons. A dozen or so lip glosses and lipsticks. A lighter—not sure where that came from, since I don’t smoke. My wallet. My car keys. My songwriting notebook. My smaller backup songwriting notebook. Six pens, in all different colors. Two pencils. Gum. Gum wrappers. Loose change. Lint.

Still no phone.

Before I left Boone’s bus, I asked Chance for Tana’s number, just in case. He wrote it on my palm in Sharpie with big block letters saying Call Me above it.

I make my way up to the bus driver’s seat.

“Hey, Chaz?”

“Ma’am?”

“Told you to call me Selena a dozen times, Chaz.” Maybe more than a dozen, if I’m being honest.

“Yes, Ms. Selena.”

“Can I borrow your phone?”

“Sure thing.” He grabs it from the pocket in the side of his seat and hands it over, all without ever taking his eyes off the road.

“Thanks.”

I stumble back to the couch and position my thumb over the number pad. I glance down at my palm, and I know the person I should be calling instead of Tana is Justin.

But you didn’t merit a phone call from him, the hurt inside me protests. It’s true, but still.

I drop my head to the back of the couch when it hits me that even if I wanted to call Justin, I don’t know any of his numbers by heart, and it’s not like I can just call Information or something. I could google Karas International, but what is the likelihood they’ll ever put me through to his personal line? Even when I had that number, his secretary didn’t believe that I was me at first.

My best bet is getting my phone back.

I punch in Tana’s number, and she answers after I call her three times in a row.

“Hello?” Her voice is suspicious as shit, and I realize she doesn’t recognize the number. Plus it’s almost midnight.

“It’s me. Selena. Sorry for calling so late.”

“Oh, hey, hon. No worries. You know I’m up at all hours anyway. What’s up? The man come track you down already?”

I squeeze my eyes shut. Hell, even if Justin wanted to track me down right now, I think even he’d be SOL. I’m on a bus on a highway headed for a tour stop not on my tour list.

But then again, I guess I don’t know what kind of resources he has at his disposal, or if he’d use them to come after me. The hope rising in my chest, the hope that started blossoming that night we ate Sixteen Candles style on the dining room table, wants desperately for him to come chasing after me with an apology.

“Selena?”

2.����N�e[�

[danniellevassallo-blog]

Lyft Co-Founder John Zimmer Drives And Dishes On Automation, Car Subscriptions, And Cash

Lyft Co-founder John Zimmer

John Sciulli / Getty Images

As the calendar got ready to flip to 2017 this past Saturday, Lyft co-founder and president John Zimmer got behind the wheel of a white Chevrolet Equinox and turned on his app's “Driver's mode.” For four years running, Zimmer has taken a Lyft shift driving San Francisco's revelers across town on New Year's Eve. It was time to get back in action.

Lyft had a busy 2016. It started the year by raising $1 billion from a group led by General Motors, though that wasn't enough to significantly cut into Uber's almost $7 billion funding lead. Later, it was rumored to be for sale, but said it was instead approached by potential buyers it turned down. And its role as a network connecting cars and passengers became more intriguing with the emergence of automated driving, a development that could make Lyft emerge as the software directing these robot-driven cars to pickups and dropoffs, and will likely bring along more competitors.

I was Zimmer's first pickup of the night, as I had been a year prior, giving us plenty to catch up on. Almost as soon I uttered my first question, Zimmer got a pickup request, and we were off to the races.

Automated Future

Lyft

When Zimmer told his second pickup of the night, Miranda, that her ride was free, she celebrated by asking him to play Shaggy on the car's speakers. Zimmer obliged, and when “Angel” came on, the already festive mood turned really festive.

You can tell Zimmer enjoys giving these rides, which is ironic, given that his company's future may not include human drivers. At the start of 2016, autonomous vehicles were still abstract; much hyped but little used in the real world. By the end of the year, autonomous driving became much more real when Uber's self-driving cars hit the streets of Pittsburgh and San Francisco (at least temporarily), and the company's autonomous truck made its first delivery.

Lyft is getting in on the self-driving action too. This year, it plans to introduce autonomous driving cars along some fixed routes, according to a blog post Zimmer penned in September. And within five years, Lyft expects that a fleet of autonomous cars will handle the majority of its rides in the US.

But Zimmer cautioned me not to relegate Lyft's 700,000 or so human drivers to the unemployment line just yet. There should still be work for them when the cars drive themselves, he explained. “In my mind these automated vehicles are more like rooms on wheels,” Zimmer said. “It could be a social experience, it could be a movie theatre on wheels, it could be a bar on wheels. There will be people that we need to provide those services.”

In the near term, Zimmer said, Lyft is still trying to recruit more human drivers. Today, only a minuscule percentage of miles traveled in the US are in Lyfts and Ubers, Zimmer said, and if his company can convince people to ditch their cars in favor of ride hailing, it could create more work for drivers, even if some of the routes are driven by robots.

What of Zimmer's New Year's Eve driving ritual though? “I enjoy it. It's fun,” he told me. But in a few years? “Maybe then I'll be your bartender.”

The Manufacturers Cometh

Lyft

After dropping off Miranda, Zimmer picked up a new passenger, Matthew, and began driving down the 101 highway towards San Francisco's Tenderloin district. The road ahead was clear, but it was hardly a metaphor for the competition and challenges Lyft is facing.

Five months ago, Tesla CEO Elon Musk unveiled a 'master plan' for his company that teased the idea of turning self-driving Teslas into part time ride-hailing vehicles, which would put the car manufacturer squarely in competition with Lyft and Uber. Tesla isn't the only car manufacturer going down this path. Last August, Ford said it too would develop autonomous vehicles and use them for ride hailing. Toyota, BMW, and other manufacturers have also expressed plans to develop self-driving cars.

Car manufacturers' entry into ride hailing would pose major threats to Lyft: They can gain access to vehicles at a cheaper cost by producing them on their own, and in many cases they have relationships with customers that run deeper than the nascent ride hailing companies.

This doesn't mean Lyft is toast. When autonomous cars go mainstream, Zimmer explained, there will be three components to the business: the cars themselves, the self-driving technology, and the networks they run on, like Uber and Lyft. Zimmer argued that the networks, which manage the movement of cars and relationships with customers, will be the most important of the three, noting that Lyft and Uber have a head start over new competitors.

“We know where the passengers are and where the demand is going,” Zimmer said. Lyft, he argued, could serve more people with fewer cars than newcomers because it knows where to position the cars to efficiently meet the demand. The long play for Lyft, Zimmer said, is to get people to give up car ownership in favor of Lyft subscriptions where they'd buy miles just like they buy minutes from cell providers. Autonomous cars could help take this from an unreasonable expense to a cheap enough alternative that it would demand serious consideration.

Show Me The Money, Johnny

Lyft

Zimmer's final pickup was Siaga, an American Airlines flight crew member in town for New Year's who needed to get to H&M for an emergency New Year's outfit. Siaga could splurge a bit since his ride was on Zimmer, placing him in a growing group of people who have had their rides subsidized by Lyft.

Lyft, according to Bloomberg, has promised investors to keep its losses below $150 million per quarter. And in December, a Bloomberg report stated that although Uber would make more than $5.5 billion in net revenue in 2016, it could lose $3 billion in the process. These reports led some to question whether ride hailing companies were real businesses, so I asked Zimmer if they were. He responded affirmatively.

“On a per-ride basis, rides are profitable,” Zimmer explained. The losses, he said, come from trying to win over new passengers (you may have seen people handing out $50 Lyft credits on a street near you - this is part of that effort). “Having a certain amount of scale is the early part of the business, but doing 17 million+ rides every month will lead us to a profitable business.” Lyft, he said, has tripled its number of rides since we met last year.

So when will Lyft be profitable? Zimmer wouldn't say. But he said the company has a plan to use less money than it's raised to get to profitability. “When you look at the unit economics per ride, there is a comfortable margin there that will allow us to cover all our expenses and become profitable.”

With that, it was my turn to be dropped off. Seems like Lyft is in good shape to be around next New Year's Eve too, so we'll pick this up then.

[jeanetterallen100-blog]

Lyft Co-Founder John Zimmer Drives And Dishes On Automation, Car Subscriptions, And Cash

Lyft Co-founder John Zimmer

John Sciulli / Getty Images

As the calendar got ready to flip to 2017 this past Saturday, Lyft co-founder and president John Zimmer got behind the wheel of a white Chevrolet Equinox and turned on his app's “Driver's mode.” For four years running, Zimmer has taken a Lyft shift driving San Francisco's revelers across town on New Year's Eve. It was time to get back in action.

Lyft had a busy 2016. It started the year by raising $1 billion from a group led by General Motors, though that wasn't enough to significantly cut into Uber's almost $7 billion funding lead. Later, it was rumored to be for sale, but said it was instead approached by potential buyers it turned down. And its role as a network connecting cars and passengers became more intriguing with the emergence of automated driving, a development that could make Lyft emerge as the software directing these robot-driven cars to pickups and dropoffs, and will likely bring along more competitors.

I was Zimmer's first pickup of the night, as I had been a year prior, giving us plenty to catch up on. Almost as soon I uttered my first question, Zimmer got a pickup request, and we were off to the races.

Automated Future

Lyft

When Zimmer told his second pickup of the night, Miranda, that her ride was free, she celebrated by asking him to play Shaggy on the car's speakers. Zimmer obliged, and when “Angel” came on, the already festive mood turned really festive.

You can tell Zimmer enjoys giving these rides, which is ironic, given that his company's future may not include human drivers. At the start of 2016, autonomous vehicles were still abstract; much hyped but little used in the real world. By the end of the year, autonomous driving became much more real when Uber's self-driving cars hit the streets of Pittsburgh and San Francisco (at least temporarily), and the company's autonomous truck made its first delivery.

Lyft is getting in on the self-driving action too. This year, it plans to introduce autonomous driving cars along some fixed routes, according to a blog post Zimmer penned in September. And within five years, Lyft expects that a fleet of autonomous cars will handle the majority of its rides in the US.

But Zimmer cautioned me not to relegate Lyft's 700,000 or so human drivers to the unemployment line just yet. There should still be work for them when the cars drive themselves, he explained. “In my mind these automated vehicles are more like rooms on wheels,” Zimmer said. “It could be a social experience, it could be a movie theatre on wheels, it could be a bar on wheels. There will be people that we need to provide those services.”

In the near term, Zimmer said, Lyft is still trying to recruit more human drivers. Today, only a minuscule percentage of miles traveled in the US are in Lyfts and Ubers, Zimmer said, and if his company can convince people to ditch their cars in favor of ride hailing, it could create more work for drivers, even if some of the routes are driven by robots.

What of Zimmer's New Year's Eve driving ritual though? “I enjoy it. It's fun,” he told me. But in a few years? “Maybe then I'll be your bartender.”

The Manufacturers Cometh

Lyft

After dropping off Miranda, Zimmer picked up a new passenger, Matthew, and began driving down the 101 highway towards San Francisco's Tenderloin district. The road ahead was clear, but it was hardly a metaphor for the competition and challenges Lyft is facing.

Five months ago, Tesla CEO Elon Musk unveiled a 'master plan' for his company that teased the idea of turning self-driving Teslas into part time ride-hailing vehicles, which would put the car manufacturer squarely in competition with Lyft and Uber. Tesla isn't the only car manufacturer going down this path. Last August, Ford said it too would develop autonomous vehicles and use them for ride hailing. Toyota, BMW, and other manufacturers have also expressed plans to develop self-driving cars.

Car manufacturers' entry into ride hailing would pose major threats to Lyft: They can gain access to vehicles at a cheaper cost by producing them on their own, and in many cases they have relationships with customers that run deeper than the nascent ride hailing companies.

This doesn't mean Lyft is toast. When autonomous cars go mainstream, Zimmer explained, there will be three components to the business: the cars themselves, the self-driving technology, and the networks they run on, like Uber and Lyft. Zimmer argued that the networks, which manage the movement of cars and relationships with customers, will be the most important of the three, noting that Lyft and Uber have a head start over new competitors.

“We know where the passengers are and where the demand is going,” Zimmer said. Lyft, he argued, could serve more people with fewer cars than newcomers because it knows where to position the cars to efficiently meet the demand. The long play for Lyft, Zimmer said, is to get people to give up car ownership in favor of Lyft subscriptions where they'd buy miles just like they buy minutes from cell providers. Autonomous cars could help take this from an unreasonable expense to a cheap enough alternative that it would demand serious consideration.

Show Me The Money, Johnny

Lyft

Zimmer's final pickup was Siaga, an American Airlines flight crew member in town for New Year's who needed to get to H&M for an emergency New Year's outfit. Siaga could splurge a bit since his ride was on Zimmer, placing him in a growing group of people who have had their rides subsidized by Lyft.

Lyft, according to Bloomberg, has promised investors to keep its losses below $150 million per quarter. And in December, a Bloomberg report stated that although Uber would make more than $5.5 billion in net revenue in 2016, it could lose $3 billion in the process. These reports led some to question whether ride hailing companies were real businesses, so I asked Zimmer if they were. He responded affirmatively.

“On a per-ride basis, rides are profitable,” Zimmer explained. The losses, he said, come from trying to win over new passengers (you may have seen people handing out $50 Lyft credits on a street near you - this is part of that effort). “Having a certain amount of scale is the early part of the business, but doing 17 million+ rides every month will lead us to a profitable business.” Lyft, he said, has tripled its number of rides since we met last year.

So when will Lyft be profitable? Zimmer wouldn't say. But he said the company has a plan to use less money than it's raised to get to profitability. “When you look at the unit economics per ride, there is a comfortable margin there that will allow us to cover all our expenses and become profitable.”

With that, it was my turn to be dropped off. Seems like Lyft is in good shape to be around next New Year's Eve too, so we'll pick this up then.