#mom was discussing with me about old rock music

[wolfjackle-creates]

Bring Me Home Arc 2 Part 14

WIP Wednesday is happening this week! I would've had it up an hour or two ago, but I ended up having to run an emergency errand for my mom to keep her friend's car from being towed. But it's all been taken care of!

Story Summary: Tim and Danny are both neglected by parents who care more about their work than their families. They deal with this by spending too much time online and find each other playing MMORPGs. They keep up their friendship as Tim becomes Robin and Danny becomes Phantom and don't bother keeping secrets from each other.

Note: Anyone who still doesn't know which episode I'm basing this arc on should know by the end of this segment. I did realize I made a mistake, though. The invading ghosts are Walker's guards. In the episode, up to this point the trio never refer to them as such. The audience, however, sees Walker send them in. I took that as Danny and co didn't realize they were Walker's people. But as I was going through minute-by-minute while writing, Danny does call them Walker's goons. So he knew the entire time. I'm adjusting that going forward and I'll retroactively make the edits before posting to AO3.

First, Previous

Word Count: 1.7k

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Everyone left Sam’s house at the same time. The Amity crowd had to get to school and no one felt comfortable staying at Sam’s house while she wasn’t home. As they ate a quick breakfast, Tim noticed Conner’s fingernails were painted.

“Looks good, Kon,” he commented.

“Thanks,” said Sam. “I did them last night while you and Danny were sleeping. Introduced him to actual music, too.”

Conner grinned. “She’s promised to burn me some CDs before we go.”

“A mixed tape is the only valid way to share music,” Sam agreed. “And if he’s gonna rock the punk look, he should know the punk culture, too.”

Tim laughed. “Well, looks like we know what we’ll be listening to on the way home. Will you need a CD player, Kon?”

“Is my laptop not good enough?”

Tim clicked his tongue. “Come to Gotham with me. I know I have an old one lying around. Nothing like listening to a CD while lying somewhere, wired headphones tangling up as you shift position. If you want the authentic experience, that’s the only way to go.”

Conner shrugged, clearly unsure. “If you say so.”

Danny yawned. “You’re giving him Dumpty Humpty, right?”

Sam snorted. “Am I giving him Dumpty Humpty? Who do you think I am? Of course I am!”

“Good. You can’t introduce someone to good music and leave out Dumpty Humpty.”

Tim nodded. “Yeah, you’ve gotten me into them. They’re fun. You’ll like them, Kon.”

“You played a song or two by them last night, right?” Conner asked.

Cassie nodded. “Yep. That’s who she was playing when Tucker, Bart, and I left to get some sleep in the other room.”

“Ah, yeah. That’s right. I liked them.”

“Of course you did,” said Sam as she flicked her hair. “I have excellent taste.”

Tucker was typing away on his PDA. “So what’ll you be doing while we’re in school?”

Tim grimaced. “I was thinking of hitting up the local library. We want to learn more about the ghosts. But also B has said that a condition of allowing me to extend my trip is that I keep up with my own schoolwork. So I have some catch up to do.”

Danny waved his spoon at him. “And you get on me for not doing my work.”

“Yeah, but you want to graduate and, like, go to college and shit. The stuff I want to do doesn’t require a diploma of any kind. B’s just making me do it because he society has convinced him it’s important.”

Tucker’s PDA alarm went off. “And that alarm means if we’re not out the door in five minutes, we’re gonna be late.”

Everyone groaned as they pushed away from the table and collected their belongings. The walk into town was filled with music discussion. Bart and Conner mostly listened and took note of recommended bands and musicians. Sam tended to know the most obscure stuff, but Tim knew some foreign bands from his time in Europe that no one else had heard of.

The walk was, thankfully, not disturbed by ghosts, but Danny’s ghost sense did go off several times.

“Didn’t your parents make a device that can track ghosts?” asked Tim the third time he complained. “Would that help you locate them?”

Danny hummed thoughtfully. “Maybe, I’ll have to see if I can find it. My parents stopped using it when it kept zeroing in on me. It was too loud for stealth use, though, and loudly went off anytime I was in range. And it didn’t work great for a 3D environment. So Tucker and I would have to develop a new display that can tell me if one is above or below me.”

“I should be able to help, too. You know how good I am with computers.”

“If I can find the device or blueprints, I’ll take you up on that.”

Not long after, they had to say goodbye at the entrance to Caspar High. Dash and his friends also arrived at about the same time. The group stared at Danny, but didn’t move to interact.

“Think they’re still overshadowed?” asked Conner, mirroring Tim’s thoughts.

“God, I hope not,” said Danny.

“But knowing our luck…” Sam trailed off.

Tim sighed. “Keep your distance as much as possible.”

“I know, mom.” Danny rolled his eyes. The school bell rang and he adjusted his backpack strap. “Gotta go. Have fun at the library.” His sarcasm was very evident and he hugged Tim.

The gesture surprised him and his return hug was slightly delayed. “I think I’ll find more than enough to amuse me there.”

With a quick goodbye, the trio rushed off before they could be late.

“So,” said Cassie, “Sam and Tucker seem to have a ton of ideas about you and Danny.”

Tim rolled his eyes. “Danny and I only met in person less than forty-eight hours ago.”

Bart nudged him. “And yet you’re already sleeping in the same bed and giving each other goodbye hugs.”

“I do the same with you guys.” He pulled out his phone to check the location of the library. “Come on, let’s just get to the library. I want to see if they have a digital subscription to the local paper we can use.”

Tim didn’t get much schoolwork done that morning, but he did find out Danny was originally named Inviso-Bill by the press and immediately began planning ways to prank him with that knowledge.

For the rest, he compared what was reported vs what had actually happened with past ghost attacks. One thing was clear, Danny needed much better PR. Hopefully being seen working with the Young Justice would help. And maybe Sam would actually listen if he tried to give pointers on how to manage public perception.

Shortly after noon and before Tim could even pretend he was about to switch over to school work, his phone rang.

“Hey, Danny. What’s up?”

“Tim! Do any of you speak Esperanto?”

“Uh… I don’t. Let me ask Bart.” He lowered the phone to ask.

“Esperanto? What’s that?” asked Bart.

“I’ll explain later,” said Tim. Back into the phone, he added, “Doesn’t look like it. Why? What’s going on?”

“So… You remember that wolf ghost with the collar? Walker’s goons are after him, too. I’m not sure why since he only speaks Esperanto. I got him away from both them and my parents. Think you can keep him safe until school is out? If I miss any more class I’ll be grounded until graduation. Senior graduation.”

Tim gestured to his friends to pack everything up. “Yeah, sure. Where are you right now? I’ll have Bart meet you first and the rest of us will follow.”

Danny gave him directions to a forested area behind the school which Tim relayed to Bart. As soon as the group was out of the library, Bart rushed ahead to Danny.

Over the phone, Danny let him know Bart had arrived. “Oh, and Tucker just got here, too. Excellent. He can speak Esperanto as well. Looks like he’s explaining things to big and hairy over here.”

“Great. We’ll be there soon as we can.”

“Can we fly there?” asked Conner.

Cassie nodded. “People would just think we’re more ghosts.”

Tim rolled his eyes. “Superboy and Wonder Girl were seen in town just last night. No.”

Conner stuck his tongue out at him. “Spoilsport.”

“Relax. It’s not far. GPS has us in the general location in, like, ten minutes.”

“Fine, fine,” sighed Cassie. “We’ll be good.”

Tim elbowed her with a grin. “Now, I never said you had to do that.”

Conner laughed. “So, what is this Esperanto language, anyway? I haven’t heard of it.”

“It’s a conlang based on European languages that’s supposed to be easy to learn. The idea was to make a sort of common language for Earth without promoting a single language like English. It hasn’t gained a lot of traction, though. And if Bart doesn’t know it, then it likely won’t.”

“Huh, weird. Why do you think a werewolf ghost know an Earth-based conlang?”

“Oooh! I bet it’s because he’s the manifestation of some teenage girl’s OC,” offered Cassie.

Tim laughed. “Or maybe the OC of one of the people to create Esperanto.”

Conner shook his head. “You’ve got this all wrong. He’s from an alternate future where Esperanto did take off and a werewolf virus spread among humans.”

The ten minute walk was filled with more and more outlandish theories ending with the wolf being the reincarnation of Jesus who was trying to bring humanity together through the reinstitution of a common language like in the pre-Tower-of-Babel days.

At the edge of the woods, Tim nudged Conner. “Can you hear where they are?”

“Yep. Follow me.”

And then it was less than two minutes before Tim could see them. “Oi! Danny!” he called out with a wave.

Danny flew over to them and hugged him. “Thank you so much! You’re gonna save me so many detentions.” He grabbed Tim’s hand and pulled him towards Tucker and the ghost. “Tim, this is Wulf. Wulf,” Danny said while making eye contact, “Friends.” Then he slowly pointed to each person and said their name.

Tucker rolled his eyes and repeated the information in Esperanto. Tim recognized his and his teammates names and many of the words felt familiar. Likely since he knew or was learning a few European languages.

“So, will we just hang out here for the next few hours until you get out of school?” asked Tim.

“Yeah. It’ll only be about two and a half hours. That okay? Then we’ll go back to Sam’s place. We can hide in her basement.”

“We’ve hung out in worse places for longer,” said Bart. “This is practically cozy. And me or one of the others can run into town for food and supplies. Anything you want from your parent’s place? Food? Snacks?”

Tucker grinned. “If you could get some jerky, that’d be great. No meat at Sam’s.”

Danny laughed. “If we think of anything else, one of us will text it to the group chat.”

An alarm buzzed on Tucker’s PDA. “We’ve got to get back now.”

“Shit. Okay. I’ll fly us back. Bye Tim, everyone!” Danny picked up Tucker and flew away, turning invisible before he was more than a few yards away.

-----

Next

So, more banter and more plot! We're almost starting to get somewhere! This marks roughly the halfway point of the episode. And the arc is almost 25k words. This is why I take forever to publish anything. It always spirals out of my control. Even this section, I originally opened with them in the library. But then I remembered I wanted to have Sam paint Conner's nails and that led to me adding over 900 words to the beginning.

I no longer do tag lists for this fic, but if you make your way to the subscription post, you can set it up so you get notified when this updates.

[chongmiz]

I heard I can fo it with a broken heart on the radio

And aside from the chorus being kinda awkward (I'm so depressed I act like it my birTHHHdaayyyyyYY)

I think this whole 'i sold you a lie you think I'm doing well but I'm not but I'm killing it so I'm a #girlboss try come for my job' is so embarassing

Because everything shes done over this last year I've thought 'theres a woman doing real bad'

Like I'm not trying to dispute the effort and energy that goes into touring like she does, but a lot of her decisions both professional and personally have made me think uh oh

Its giving 'could a depressed person do this?' But it's about dating the worst men on the planet and looking like shes going to cry on stage half the time

💌 come talk to me, a veteran swiftie in the anti- tag in the same way that martin luther still thought himself catholic

where i land with it lyrically is in conversation with four songs: "mirrorball" from folklore, "nothing new" from red TV, and two other ttpd tracks, "who's afraid of little old me" and "clara bow"

per the long pond sessions, she wrote "mirrorball" partially about COVID's effect on touring ("and they called off the circus, burned the disco down / when they sent home the horses and the rodeo clowns"). pair that with the much discussed WAOLOM asylum line and... it might be because she says "circus," it might be that while i have no personal experience of involuntary hospitalization i Do have basic empathy, but i think of the two great blond celebrity memoirs of the last few years: britney spears' the woman in me and jeannette mccurdy's i'm glad my mom died. which is all to say, she doesn't Have to do it with a broken heart! actually! "the asylum where they raised me" sounds like her pursuit of fame was coerced by say, a stage mom or an abusive contract or monetary need (it wasn't), if she was in an urgent health crisis like ICDIWABH suggests ("even when you wanna die"), she has all the power to postpone or cancel dates. she's not in a conservatorship, she's not being Made to tour; i can imagine feeling obligated to pay the hundreds of people it employs, but she is an actual billionaire, i think she can afford blue cross blue shield PPO plans for a militia. you can interpret "all the pieces of me shattered while the crowd was chanting 'more!'" as resenting the audience, but there's other performers in smaller venues with less freedom and power who need to be onstage to afford food. idk.

then there's the "try and come for my job:" extremely vague as to who is coming for it, and the popular reading is of other pop stars on tour. "clara bow" is my favorite track on ttpd by a long shot in part because it feels like a more mature version of "nothing new;" it's a little kinder to the ingenue and seems to respect her predecessors, recognize that She was the ingenue once, but it does not match up to her actual conduct in public. this is where i become very asian, but besides her being uhhh... pretty drunk at the grammys this year, i think her behavior is more a symptom of white american culture as egoistic and ahistorical—this is the kamala harris "you think you fell out of a coconut tree" meme, yes, but more broadly my complaint is filial piety. acting up in front of the likes of celine dion and tracy chapman and joni mitchell, especially on a night that celebrates all three of them, is absolutely unacceptable to me. they're your elders, they paved the path you're on (nothing new: "she'll know the way, and then she'll say she got the map from me"), but her teenage fans who've never heard any other music don't know or accept that she Isn't actually the progenitor of acclaimed women singer-songwriters

she wants to be seen as a "cool big sister" mentor to younger pop girls or boosting indie acts like boygenius, but afaik she herself hasn't shared the stage with an older female musician since alanis morrissette as a surprise guest on the 1989 tour. sure, she showed up to induct carole king to the rock 'n roll hall of fame, with a solo stage. but as much as people first cringed at luke combs' "fast car" cover, he acquitted himself with his grammy performance. there is true reverence there. if taylor brings stevie nicks (who wrote a poem?? for the ttpd physical editions) onstage at some point soon, i'll Maybe start to believe she doesn't see women over 40 as piles of dust she's either embarrassed to stand near Or, you know, who expose that she did not in fact fall out of a coconut tree, and have more stage presence sitting down than she does in sequins

[raeii-of-sunshine]

Infodump about Will, please?

OMG ANON U HAVE NO IDEA HOW HAPPY U JUST MADE ME. I PROMISE U MY FIRSTBORN FOR THIS GREAT OPPORTUNITY

okok so first of all he’s a gemini (05/31/1994) which is crazy cuz i don’t think this man is capable of wearing a mask. he wears everything right on his face even if he’s not yapping about it. not very gemini of him tbh

SECOND also getting basic info out of the way he’s puerto rican and he has a lot of tattoos to pay homage to his heritage!! including the frog (a coqui) and hibiscus (amapola) tattoo on his neck, as well as i BELIEVE the aztec-style mural on his back!!!!

before he got into harder music like lamb of god, white chapel, etc, he listened to pretty tame rock like AC/DC. he actually played the guitar and the saxophone! he was in band in hs!! fun fact, his parents were NOT excited about him going from his “normal person music” to deathcore and other metal genres. one time when he was first learning how to scream (in the shower), his mom knocked on the door to ask if he was okay lmaooo. nowadays they’re all very proud of him tho!!

he has a tattoo of a goblin with his curly pink hair and gauges on one of his legs, eating ramen out of a skull bc he fuckin LOVES ramen. he’s also really big into anime and manga

he appeared several times on the youtube channel “the charismatic voice” to discuss his and other people’s vocal techniques, AS WELL AS letting them put a camera up his nose and down his throat to record him while he did all of his insane vocal techniques!! ANDDDD also did another video with them where they put needles in his neck to get an even more accurate recording of everything!! i couldn’t watch that one bc i can’t do needles ‘:D but it was probably pretty fuckin cool.

he is a really big fan of opera and is friends with one of the people from the charismatic voice named elizabeth, who is a vocal specialist and (used to be(?)) an opera singer. he made a whole video reacting to one of her very old opera performances and said that he really likes opera bc it’s like deathcore in the sense that there are SOOOO many vocal techniques used in every performance, much like the best deathcore vocalists out there !

elizabeth said in the putting-a-camera-down-his-throat video that one of the first things that she noticed about him when they met in the airport was that his hair was super animated and kinda flips around on his head like it’s got a personality of its own!!

example:: (him playing ping pong with elizabeth)

getting back into music, he’s said that he actually doesn’t listen to a ton of deathcore or metal music anymore, he’s more of an indie guy!! if he wasn’t in a deathcore band, he’d apparently be making indie music. and one of the main reasons he doesn’t listen to a lot of metal is so that any ideas for songs that he comes up with won’t be accidentally pulling from other songs so they’re more original. he also doesn’t usually try to force lyrics out of himself, he just kind of writes down things whenever he thinks of them (and it works quite well!!)

his first gig was in an old vaulted church building in new jersey (BECAUSE OF COURSE THIS MAN IF FROM NEW JERSEY) that no longer hosts gigs, and the acoustics were TERRIBLE bc of all the reverb from the vaulted ceilings. his first gig was fucking NERVE WRECKING but nowadays after the first couple of days of tour the pre-show jitters just go away??

ALSO he brings tea and an entire tea set to every venue!! and says shit like and i quote, “where am i gonna set up my tea party today?” he’s VERY serious about his vocal care! he drinks his tea, he has a bunch of fancy serums and other vocal products, and has a handheld nebulizer that he swears up and down by. <333 better self care routine than any of us out here tbh

he’s apparently always late to rehearsal lol. and he’s a cat person!! he’s literally so perfect <3

that is all that i have rn!! thank you so much anon you seriously made my fuckin day!!!!

[cryptidsurveys]

Thursday, November 14th, 2024.

What have you been up to today? Anything interesting? I haven't been up to much at all. I've watched some YouTube, vacuumed my room and the upstairs hallway, and later I'm going to be making a pecan pie to take to the animal shelter tomorrow.

What was the last thing you ate? Oatmeal with fruit, peanut butter, chocolate syrup, part of a Carnation instant breakfast packet, and sprinkles.

Do you know how to knit? Who taught you? I used to know how to knit and could easily pick it back up again if I wanted to. No one taught me. Well, that is to say, no one personally taught me. I watched videos and learned from there.

What state or territory were you born in? Louisiana.

What’s your favourite genre of music? I have been loving classical music lately. We've even started playing that station at work as nighttime ambiance for the cats, but sometimes we will leave it on during the day as well. I also enjoy classic rock, as well as some grunge, stoner/psychedelic, alternative, folk, and indie. A little bit of pop and hip-hop/rap.

Have you ever been for a ride in the back of a truck? A few times.

Are you currently downloading anything? I'm not currently downloading anything, but like I mentioned in a recent survey, I am strongly considering getting into Stardew Valley. It seems relaxing and cute. At least three of my coworkers play, and I want to get in on the fun and discussions.

Have you seen any good movies lately? Tell me about them. Wild Robot and Inside Out 2.

Does your father have any facial hair? He shaves regularly, but he might have some stubble. I don't really pay much attention.

What’s your favourite thing to eat for breakfast? Oatmeal. I have it on an almost daily basis. If I went out to eat, then I would probably get something like a breakfast skillet with eggs over easy and toast.

Did your grandparents teach you anything? I never knew my grandparents on my mom's side (her mom died when she was a child and her father was abusive so we never met him). I only saw my grandparents on my dad's side a few times before they passed away. I don't recall them teaching me anything in particular.

Do you want/have a Bachelor’s degree? I don't, but if I ever went back to school, then it would most likely be for veterinary technology. I would already have a foot in the door at the animal shelter. It's not something I'm serious about at the moment, but let's call it a nebulous 5-10 year plan.

Have you ever written a song for or about somebody? About someone, maybe. But for someone, I don't think so.

Are you into superheroes? Who’s your favourite? Naw. They've never been my thing.

Spotify, Pandora or something else entirely? YouTube.

What colours do you wear the most? Black, blue, pine green, and shades of gray.

What was the last alcoholic beverage you had? Beer at that fundraising event over the summer.

How many televisions do you have in your house? How big is the biggest? Two. I don't know exactly how big they are, but they're not huge. We also don't really use them anymore.

Have you ever been to Arizona? Did you like it? Yeah. We went there when I was in elementary school to stay with some friends of my dad's. I loved the desert landscape around their home. Huge saguaro cacti. Very neat.

Are you a gossip-loving sort of person? Unfortunately, yes. It's a character flaw that I'm trying to eliminate. Especially in the workplace. I understand venting frustrations, but beyond that…it doesn't do me or anyone else any good. It's such a difficult habit to get out of, though. People are always talking about other people, and it's awkward to distance myself and not participate. It's also extremely tempting.

What brand of laptop or computer do you own or use most often? I have a Dell desktop.

What did you have for dinner last night? Mixed veggies with sriracha sauce and a toasted cheese and jalapeno sandwich.

How old were you when you learned to tie your own shoelaces? I have vague memories of being taught while I was in Louisiana, so maybe around 3-4 years old.

Have you ever felt like you were making a mistake when dating someone?

When was the last time it rained where you live? I think there was a bit of rain mixed in with the snow we got about a week ago.

What brand are the shoes you last wore? I'm not sure. They're just a cheap pair I bought at Walmart because my hiking shoes were falling apart.

Do you think you look similar to your siblings? You could probably tell by our facial features that we're related, but our bodies/builds are different.

When was the last time you sat in the back seat of a car? I think it would have been when my parents and I went to see the new Wonka movie.

Are you good at answering random general knowledge trivia questions? Depends on the subject.

Have you ever been obsessive over calories, exercise etc.? Yeah.

What is your favourite shape of pasta? Elbows, spirals, and shells.

Have you ever played Cards Against Humanity? Did you like it? I haven't.

Are you going to work or school tomorrow? Yeah. Full day at the animal shelter.

When did you wake up today? A little after 6:00am.

What is the time right now? It's 9:23am.

[venusdian]

The Black Aesthetic - 006.

Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

"Being Black isn't an Aesthetic, It's culture."

(This is a mixture of 1st & 3rd POV) - 4.1K Words

Tailah

────

Friday Afternoon

I sat on the porch, watching the kids play with the science kit as Devin and his brothers privately discussed the funeral arrangements. Devin was taking this passing pretty hard, and it’s hard to console him when he won’t let me. He’s been sleeping in the guest room at his parent’s house. I can hear him cry himself to sleep, and when I try to hold him, he just pushes me away.

Genesis tries to cheer her dad up, but Devin struggles not to cry when she looks up at him with those big brown eyes.

I hear Ashanti’s Rain on Me coming down the block. It was Marí pulling up. I’m surprised she’s not blasting explicit rap music, but I can’t complain. I get up from the rocking chair and walk down the stairs. Marí comes out of the car. Genesis looks up and sees that her Aunt is entering the gate. She got up and ran, hugging her waist. Marí hugs her back and then comes up the stairs.

We hug, and then we go back to sitting on the rocking chairs. She hands me the packet.

“How they holding up?” I sighed, and she knew that sound all too well. The front door opened, and it was Dexter coming outside.

“Oh, wassup, Marí?” Marí looks back at Dexter and daps him up.

“Wassup, Dex. Aye, I’m sorry for your loss.” Marí sincerely expresses. Dexter nods.

“It’s fine. She always said she was going to die happily with her vices.”

“Well, if you need help with anything, just hit me up, and I can make something shake.” Dexter nods, folding his arms and looking out at the kids.

“Devin is really taking this hard.” Dexter worriedly states. I sigh.

“I know, Dex. We’re trying.” Dexter shakes his head and looks at us.

“I ain’t seen Devin this broken. I’m worried about him, Tee. He couldn’t finish the planning with us because he’s so—broken.” My heart broke hearing those words. I looked at Dex, who seemed worried.

“Well, Devin gunna shake this. We just gotta let this ride out.” Marí suggested trying to ease our nerves, but Dex wasn’t budging. He shakes his head.

“Nah, Marí—This is different. When Dad died, he was heartbroken but was ok because Mom was right there with the words of encouragement. But now that she’s gone? I don’t think he’ll ever be the same.” Dexter confesses as he sits on the porch floor. I softly sighed. I knew why he was taking this harder than all his siblings.

Well, his siblings aren’t biologically his siblings. He witnessed his mother being brutally stabbed at the age of five. He’s moved in with Ms. Doris and her family since his mother’s family didn’t want to take him since he carried his father’s name and thought it would be traumatic for them to take him.

Ms. Doris welcomed him with open arms, especially since he had lost everyone else in his life. He had been left without any parental figures—his mother was murdered, his father was in prison, and both of his adoptive parents had passed away. I believe all of this is incredibly overwhelming for him, and I can understand why.

But Dex saying that Devin is completely broken really puts into perspective how dire the situation is. Dex is the closest to Devin. I mean, they’re so close. He’s the godfather of Genesis. He knows him better than I know him at times. So his word held power. I softly sighed, looking over at Dex.

“Well, how are you holding up Dex?” Marí asks, trying to change the subject. Dex looked up at Marí and sighed.

“It hurts, but it’s expected, ya know? She was a stubborn old lady til the very end.” Dex states with a light-hearted chuckle. Marí sighs.

“Well, focus on your grieving, please. You don’t have to be strong for Devin. That’s what Tailah is here for.” Marí assures him, placing her hand on his shoulder. Although, I nodded, agreeing with Marí. Deep down, I didn’t feel confident, I could get him out of this slump. When his dad died, I had help to heal him. I didn’t do this alone. This time, I was alone, and I was scared.

I want to be able to be there and console him, but he just won’t let me in, and I can’t fight him to do so, either. But I will try. Not just for him but for Genesis. Genesis needs her dad, and Although I need my man. Genesis’ mental health overrides anything.

omniscient

────

Friday Evening.

Janine enters Mrs. Kendricks’ classroom. She’s always had a close bond with her as she looked up to her growing up. Although she never had her for a teacher when she went to E.W., Mrs. Kendricks has always been a huge support system for Janine, and right now, Janine needs support. Gregory left promptly after school ended, taking his work, which was unusual for him. He just seemed off, which worried her.

She tried to text him. His phone was on Do Not Disturb. She hoped it had nothing to do with Marí stopping by earlier. But she feared it was, and she just needed someone to vent her frustrations to.

Amelia Kendricks looks up from her desk and smiles.

“Oh, hey, Janine! I’m shocked that you’re here. Usually, I see you out my window with Greg, walking you to your car. Is everything alright.” She sighs and takes a seat at the empty desk. Amelia could see the worry on Janine’s face. She got up and walked over to Janine.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Janine looks up at Amelia.

“Can I ask you something?” Amelia sits on the empty desk beside her.

“Of course.”

“I know, it’s so long ago… But, what do you remember about Greg and Marí? I know they were both in your class.” Amelia uncomfortably clears her throat, stunned by the question. She hums to herself as she tries to remember the events that unfolded over twenty years ago. She looks at Janine.

“Well, it was my first year teaching, and Marí definitely kept me on my toes. Especially on the days, when Greg wasn’t there. They were inseparable—” She pauses then chuckles.

“I remember the whole school was rooting for them to be together. They kept my first two years interesting. But that was over twenty years ago. Why are you worried about that? Is the Genesis’ situation bothering you more than you’re letting on?” Janine shakes her head.

“No. She’s a kid. Her intentions are pure, and she’s completely innocent in this. I just think Greg still loves Marí, and Marí feels the same way.” Mrs. Kendrick immediately shakes her head, disagreeing with her.

“NO! Janine, that boy has had a crush on you since his first day working here. Marí is not going to come up here and distract that man. I’ve seen the way he looks at you, and his actions always show that he loves you. I think you’re letting the past worry you about the now.” Janine sighs.

“I’ve seen the way he looks at her…” Janine trails off as flashbacks of the other day replayed in her mind. He seemed so distracted by Marí and enamored by her beauty, and she looked out the window. She could see Marí blushing and looking away. Amelia softly sighs, placing a hand on her thigh.

“Look, Janine. I don’t think the romance is there. Maybe they miss each other but love each other? I highly doubt it. Gregory is not going to leave you for Marí. I assure you of that. Look, We’re hanging out tomorrow at Club Blu. You can shake off some of the nerves. You’ll see Gregory still loves you.” Janine looks up and smiles.

“You’re right.” Amelia chuckles and pulls Janine in a hug.

“I know, I am.” They pull away.

“I should get going,” Janine says, getting up. Amelia nods.

“We’re carpooling with Barbara, so keep a lookout in the group chat ‘cause you know how she gets.” Janine nods, chuckling.

“You’re right.” Janine leaves the classroom, leaving Amelia by herself. She sighed to herself. She hoped her advice was right. The last thing she wanted to see was Janine hurt. Maybe, if she talks to Gregory before they meet at the club will fix the issue. She doesn’t like to pry into her co-workers’ business, but she remembers more than she lets on.

She remembers when they would sit at lunch and the way Greg would just look at Marí while she ate lunch and how much she blushed because of how much he would admire her or any assignment that involved a group or partners, they always chose each other. They were inseparable.

Even up to high school, He walked her to the bus, and when he got his car? He always picked her up. She remembers a time one of her friends who was a teacher at Anslem High was telling her about the time Greg came while he had the flu and running a fever just to keep up with their routine.

Gregory and Marí were in love. A type of love that even Adults were envious of. She knew it was wrong to lie to Janine about how intense their love was for each other, but she knew Janine did not need to hear that. So, it was final. She was going to talk to Gregory.

Courtney

────

Friday Night.

The Uber Black pulled up to the studio where my life was going to change at, Black Stone Studios in Memphis. This was feeling surreal, and it was making my nerves very Jittery. I entered the beautiful building and walked to the front desk. A white woman was typing away at her desk. I cleared my throat and she looked up at me.

“Hi, how may I help you?”

“I’m here for a studio session with Max is On Fire!” She nods and picks up the office phone, pressing some buttons. I could hear the phone loudly ring. Each ring made me more anxious than the last. Finally, somebody picks up. It was a male voice, but I couldn’t make out what he said.

“Alright, I’ll send her there.” She hangs up the call and looks up at me.

“It’s on the second floor. And when you go down the hall, it’s 2F. They’re waiting for you. Good luck!” I anxiously nodded and hurriedly went to the elevator. I pressed the up button, my body shaking.

The elevator door opened, and I got in. I pressed the number two button. The elevator doors closed. I wanted to pinch myself because this can not be happening. I pinched myself, and ouch! That hurts.

Working with Max is on Fire! Is a huge deal. He’s worked with Drake, Noah Brooks, GloRilla, Usher—- I mean, the list can go on. He’s also a four-time Grammy-winning producer. His studio rate goes for 500K an hour, well at least that’s what I heard. I don’t know, though. But I know, Marí spent a pretty penny to get me a session with him. I owe her.

The elevator doors opened, and I walked out to see the long hallway. The hallway was filled with plaques on the wall. As I walked down the hall, I admired all the beautiful plaques. Some were gold, some were Platinum, but there weren’t any diamond plaques. Well, that’s going to change. I’m going to go diamond once my music picks up.

I know it sounds crazy as it’s rare to reach Diamond status, but I believe in Me and Me? We going to rise to the top. I finally looked at the door number and realized I walked past my studio door. I walked a couple of doors back and there it was 2F. I take a deep breath and wrapped my hand around the door knob. But before I could open it, it opened for me.

There stood a teenage girl, who looked pretty excited to see me. I furrowed my eyebrows.

“Who are you?” The teen smiled.

“Oh! Max didn’t tell you? I will be producing your record today.” She happily explained. I shook my head.

“That’s not what I was—” Before I could finish, Max came down the hall.

“Hey! Look, I know you’re supposed to work with me, but this is my protégé and my little sister, Summer.” He says, introducing me to this kid. I looked over at him, confused.

“Is this a joke?” Was all I could ask because of the anger I felt. The embarrassment I felt. So, I’m not good enough for you, but I’m good enough for your sister?! Max shakes his head. He looks at me sympathetically.

“Look, My hands are tied with Alex, and she was not budging. So, I thought since it’s both of you guys’ first time—”

“THIS IS HER FIRST TIME?!” I exclaimed. We earned some stares from people in the hallway. He pushed me into the studio with his sister and then closed the door behind us. I jerked away and glared at him.

“I didn’t word that right. But, you’re her first client, and she has an ear for music like me—” I huffed.

“Marí is going to be pissed when she finds out.” Max nods.

“I know, but I gotta work with Alex. Look, please just give Summer a chance. I promise you, you won’t regret it.” Max pauses, looking at his watch then looks up.

“I have to head out. But, good luck to you both!” Before I could say anything else, he rushed out of the studio, leaving me and Summer alone. I looked at her.

“Ain’t it past your bedtime?” I asked. Summer chuckles.

“I’m Twenty—”

“Twenty minutes past your bedtime?” I joke. She glared at me and I just sighed. It wasn’t her fault that she was in this situation.

“Sorry, Summer. I just—” Summer shakes her head.

“It’s cool. I got to prove myself, and I’m willing to if you let me.” Summer sincerely says. I sigh, she has a cute smile. I guess I can give her a chance.

“Fine.” Summer looks at me happily and pulls out my chair.

“Have a seat, I have so many beats I want to show you that I think you’ll like, and if you don’t write—”

“I write my own music.” Summer’s eyes widen.

“Even better!” I take a seat, sighing. At least one of us is excited.

Marí

────

“You sure, you wanna head out? It’s pretty late.” Tailah asks me. I nodded. That house was packed with people, and I was not sleeping on the damn floor when there was a queen-sized bed waiting for me at home.

“It’s fine.” Tailah sighs.

“Ok, call me as soon as you get home.” I nodded.

“Of course.” Tailah and I hugged then I walked off the porch, going back to my baby. I stayed longer than I anticipated. Genesis wanted to show me the science kit her cousin got, and then I ended up somehow playing dolls with Genesis and her other cousin. Then I stayed and ate dinner. We chilled in the living room and reminisced about back in the day, and before I knew it, It was almost 10:30 PM.

I got in the car and grabbed my phone charger. I plugged my phone in and turned on the car. I went to my music app and began to scroll to see what I wanted to listen to on this ride home. I couldn’t find a particular artist I wanted to listen to, so I placed it on Shuffle.

Carless Whispers by George Michaels played, nice start. I reversed out of my parking spot and joined the main road to head home. I sighed as I couldn’t get Devin out of my head. He just seemed so out of it. Even with his dad’s passing, he wasn’t that bad.

He was so quiet when everyone laughed. He struggled to form a smile. Tailah had her work cut out for her, but I’m just worried about Gigi because, Gigi although she can read the room, some things I don’t think she can fully comprehend how Devin is just a shell of himself right now.

I leave the neighborhood, stopping at the red light. That’s the one thing I hate about Knoxville! There’s always a gotdamn traffic light. Why in the hell is there a traffic light at the end of a neighborhood? Was a stop sign out of the question? I shake my head while I wait for the light to turn green.

I hummed along to the song until my phone started to ring. I was getting a video call through Instagram. I looked over and saw it was Greg calling. I pressed the x button, and the light turned green. I drive downtown to get on the highway. I tapped my steering wheel as George Michaels’ gay ass was singing his heart out.

Then it rang again. I quickly glanced at my phone, and it was Greg calling me. I sighed and pressed the check button.

“Why is it so dark?”

“I’m driving, Greg. What do you want?”

“I couldn’t get you off my mind, Marí.” I sighed.

“Well, learn to get me off your mind.”

“I did, but you came back.” I sighed. I quickly glanced over to see Greg was laying down with his black durag on, making my pussy tingle. I quickly look back at the road. He shouldn’t be on here looking so damn fine.

“That sounds like a personal problem.”

“Where you at?”

“I’m driving back to Anslem. I was in Knoxville.” He hums.

“How is Genesis holding up?”

“She’s ok. I don’t think she really understands the gravity of the situation, and I would like to keep it at that.”

“Yeah, I agree. So, you still love me?” I sighed. Here he goes wanting to talk about feelings and shit.

“You’re dating Janine.” I argued, trying to change the subject.

“So a nigga can’t have confirmation?” I shook my head.

“Why would confirmation matter? Nothing is going to change. You moved on, and I respect that.”

“Ok, you respect that, but are you happy with it?” I got to a red light. I leaned back as I waited for the light to change.

“Greg, this isn’t like you,” I argued.

“You’re right. But I don’t know how you expect me to act. I loved you for almost 75% of my life. You had my heart for fifteen years.” I looked over and sighed.

“I know, but time shouldn’t factor over a healthy relationship.” Greg sighed.

“I know, but you got me playing Bow Wow while grading papers.” He joked. I chuckled.

“Aye, Get in the camera. I wanna see your face.” I sighed and grabbed the phone. I put my phone in the holder that Gigi bought me a while ago but never used it because that’s what a passenger seat is for. He looks at me smiling.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Marí.” I look down, hiding my smile and blush.

“Greg, we can’t do this.” I finally say, shaking my head. He sighs.

“I know. But how can I hate somebody I love so much?” The light turned green, and I got past the traffic light, silence between us as I was lost for words. How can you? He had a point, but I don’t feel right doing this. Janine doesn’t deserve this.

“I’ma let you go—” I stopped him and looked at the camera.

“No, you’re fine. I have a three-hour drive to kill, and I don’t want to do it alone.” A huge smile was plastered on his face, making me smile as well. I know this was wrong, and neither one of us should be entertaining this behavior, but I couldn’t help it. This feeling that I am feeling right now is something hard to bury, but hopefully, that will change because this just isn’t right.

Courtney

────

We were an hour in, and I was feeling hopeless. The beats she showcased were not ass, but they weren’t me. I sighed as Summer looked over at me. I could tell she was nervous. She did not want this to go bad, and it’s not her fault. We’re just on two separate pages when it comes to music.

“how about this? Let me see what you’ve written.” I skeptically looked at her.

“Why?”

“Well, in order for this to work, I need to see your lyrics and get a feel for what type of genre you want to do.” I sighed, pulling out my phone and unlocked it. I went to my notes, pulled up my songwriting folder, and handed it to her. She takes it and scrolls through the song titles when something catches her eye. She furrows her eyebrows and begins silently reading it to herself. She looked up at me, stunned.

“This you?” I nod.

“Yes.” She looks at me, still shocked.

“What? What’s wrong with it.” She shakes her head.

“This is very deep. I actually think I might have something for this.” She handed me my phone, and “Just my luck” was on the screen. She rushes over to the piano. Her phone was resting on it, and she opened the record app. She looks over at me, gesturing me to come over there. I cautiously walk over to the piano.

She begins to play the piano and looks over to me.

“Just sing what you feel, Courtney.” She says as she begins to play something a bit dark. Something I was not expecting. She looks over at me. I sigh.

“I don’t want this to be a Debut single.” She nods.

“That’s fine, but I need to get a feel for you, trust me. This is between us.” She stops the recording. Then starts a new recording. She starts playing the piano again. I take a deep breath as she gives me a reassuring smile. I start to harmonize, trying to find my footing, but she doesn’t stop. She keeps going.

“Look at me, look at me, strugglin’” I start, she looks over at me, stopping her playing.

“Go slower. Make people look at you, Court. You want people to understand that this isn’t some random complaint. This is your pain. Your struggle.” She encourages. I take another deep breath. She starts playing again. I harmonize again, this time with more emotions to it. I close my eyes.

“Look at me. Look at me, Strugglin’.”

“Bring me down. I want more of it”

“Is that what you hear? Is it written on my face?

Or is it in my eyes ‘cause I’m stuck up in this place?”

She fastens the pace.

“And I just I don’t know where you’re leadin’ me to go

Pullin’ me here, pullin’ me there

Can’t take no more”

Then she slowed the pace, and I started to pick up what she was doing. I closed my eyes and continued to sing. Holding myself as I let the emotions rush over me.

“What happened to bein’ happy? That’s what I ask myself

Over here tryna mask me, who even is myself? Just my luck, just my luck

What you want? What you want?

Just my luck, just my—

What you want from me? What you need me to be? (Oh)”

She stopped playing, and I opened my eyes. My heart was racing as I was shocked that much emotion had come out of me. She looked over at me as if she was proud.

“Look, whenever you’re ready to record this beautiful song, please just let me know, ok?” I smiled and nodded.

“Ok.”

“But uhh, before I look at these other songs, tell me, why?” I sit on the piano bench beside her.

“Why what?”

“Why you don’t want this as your debut single. It’s beautiful and relatable to black women, especially dark-skinned women. Wouldn’t you want to make a huge impact on your first single?” I sighed.

“Summer… I’m an influencer. The most impactful thing I’ve done as my time as an IG baddie is stop wearing Balenciaga. They don’t go to my page for inspiration. Bitches go there to copy my look, and niggas go there to see if they can fly me out. A song as heavy as that? It would seem inorganic.” Summer looked at me perplexed.

“Is inorganic even a word?” I shrugged.

“It sounds like it’s one.” Summer hummed, confused but nodded.

“Well, Ok. I think you might like an SWV sample I did a while back. It’s retro with a modern twist.” I nodded.

“Well, ok let me hear it. Maybe I can find a song that would go well with it.” She nods.

“OK, bet. But Courtney?” I got up and turned around.

“Yes?”

“Don’t think you’re less than just because that’s how the media perceives you. You’re more than a double tap. You’re human, too.” I didn’t expect getting life advice from a twenty-year-old would be the highlight of my night, but I guess crazier things have happened.

[shefanispeculator]

 By Maia Kedem, Audacy

Following Bru wishing Gwen a happy belated birthday, (it's October 3), Stefani shared some deets about this year’s memorable celebration, after feeling a bit lonely during her birthday last year.

“A year ago… I had a show in Hawaii on my birthday and I was like, oh, yeah, I'll go get a little pile of money and come home and I don't care about my birthday.” However, as Gwen revealed, “I went on my own and I, like, spiraled into this like place. I was like, everybody needs to have a birthday I think like a celebration.”

That being said, something good came out of it. “I ended up writing this song called ‘Swallow My Tears,’ which is on the new record,” Gwen offered. “But this birthday, I was like, OK, no, we got to do something,” she continued, sharing all about the Colorado trip her hubby Blake Shelton took her family on.

With Gwen’s upcoming fifth studio album, Bouquet, set to drop on November 15, the singer shared her current emotional state about everything as a whole, saying, “I feel so grateful… it was one of those like… all I can do is look back at all of the whole career and be like, wow, how did that happen?”

After 2020, Gwen felt the want to start writing again, but also felt that she had so many things going on. “I'm a mom… I felt guilty to even go to the studio and try to write music because a lot of times you go and nothing happens,” Gwen shared. “But I started working on it and I think I went down like a lot of like, weird cul-de-sacs musically, because I didn't really know what I wanted to be or who I was. I was trying to chase the old me like, okay, I want to do reggae or I'm gonna do this, and nothing was landing.”

After a few failed attempts, and less than stellar reviews when she’d play the material for people, Gwen came to the realization that, “it really just comes down to, you have to like it,  you as the person doing it.”

“I wanted to always be real and truthful and honest and I just had to find that real honest place.” Noting it also has a lot to do with “the people that I actually end up writing the songs with, like finding the right chemistry, the right everything to make it all come together.”

“Once I wrote ‘Purple Irises’… that was like, finally, okay, I landed in the spot, and then the record kind of happened pretty quick after that.”

Discussing the sound she landed on for the album, Gwen said, “I knew I wanted to make something that I wanted to listen to. The older I get, the more I go back to the songs that I grew up with as a kid. Which I think we kind of call it yacht-rock now, but at that time it was just the popular soft rock music, like anything from Steely Dan, The Eagles, Carly Simon, James Taylor. There was like a lot of singer-songwriters back then… there was no computers, it was just music, organic. So I really wanted to do something in that kind of world.” Going on to recall that after writing and demoing the songs, despite how out of her comfort zone it might have been, the next step was to “rerecord the whole thing with a live band in that style.”

“So we ended up going back and I got to work with this producer called Scott Hendrix, who’s actually a Country producer, which I knew through Blake,” and had just recently retired. “I wasn’t able to work with them until that happened,” adding, “so it just all lined up exactly.”

“Four days after he retired we were in the studio and we cut all the songs with live music," Gwen continued, expressing how “amazing” and “spiritual” the process was. “That’s what the record is… A bouquet of all these songs that are a collection… edited down to me kind of right now, and what I've been going through, healing, to get to this point in my

 By Maia Kedem, Audacy

16 minutes ago

Joining Bru for an Audacy Check In, Gwen Stefani is here to fill us in on her forthcoming album Bouquet. From finding the right sound, to feeling inspired by the “group of amazing songwriters” she worked with, the “spiritual” recording process, and more.

LISTEN NOW: Audacy Check In with Gwen Stefani

Following Bru wishing Gwen a happy belated birthday, (it's October 3), Stefani shared some deets about this year’s memorable celebration, after feeling a bit lonely during her birthday last year.

“A year ago… I had a show in Hawaii on my birthday and I was like, oh, yeah, I'll go get a little pile of money and come home and I don't care about my birthday.” However, as Gwen revealed, “I went on my own and I, like, spiraled into this like place. I was like, everybody needs to have a birthday I think like a celebration.”

That being said, something good came out of it. “I ended up writing this song called ‘Swallow My Tears,’ which is on the new record,” Gwen offered. “But this birthday, I was like, OK, no, we got to do something,” she continued, sharing all about the Colorado trip her hubby Blake Shelton took her family on.

With Gwen’s upcoming fifth studio album, Bouquet, set to drop on November 15, the singer shared her current emotional state about everything as a whole, saying, “I feel so grateful… it was one of those like… all I can do is look back at all of the whole career and be like, wow, how did that happen?”

After 2020, Gwen felt the want to start writing again, but also felt that she had so many things going on. “I'm a mom… I felt guilty to even go to the studio and try to write music because a lot of times you go and nothing happens,” Gwen shared. “But I started working on it and I think I went down like a lot of like, weird cul-de-sacs musically, because I didn't really know what I wanted to be or who I was. I was trying to chase the old me like, okay, I want to do reggae or I'm gonna do this, and nothing was landing.”

After a few failed attempts, and less than stellar reviews when she’d play the material for people, Gwen came to the realization that, “it really just comes down to, you have to like it,  you as the person doing it.”

“I wanted to always be real and truthful and honest and I just had to find that real honest place.” Noting it also has a lot to do with “the people that I actually end up writing the songs with, like finding the right chemistry, the right everything to make it all come together.”

“Once I wrote ‘Purple Irises’… that was like, finally, okay, I landed in the spot, and then the record kind of happened pretty quick after that.”

Discussing the sound she landed on for the album, Gwen said, “I knew I wanted to make something that I wanted to listen to. The older I get, the more I go back to the songs that I grew up with as a kid. Which I think we kind of call it yacht-rock now, but at that time it was just the popular soft rock music, like anything from Steely Dan, The Eagles, Carly Simon, James Taylor. There was like a lot of singer-songwriters back then… there was no computers, it was just music, organic. So I really wanted to do something in that kind of world.” Going on to recall that after writing and demoing the songs, despite how out of her comfort zone it might have been, the next step was to “rerecord the whole thing with a live band in that style.”

“So we ended up going back and I got to work with this producer called Scott Hendrix, who’s actually a Country producer, which I knew through Blake,” and had just recently retired. “I wasn’t able to work with them until that happened,” adding, “so it just all lined up exactly.”

“Four days after he retired we were in the studio and we cut all the songs with live music," Gwen continued, expressing how “amazing” and “spiritual” the process was. “That’s what the record is… A bouquet of all these songs that are a collection… edited down to me kind of right now, and what I've been going through, healing, to get to this point in my life.”

Gwen also went on to chat about getting to work on her duet with Blake, what direction she thinks her music would have taken if she didn’t grow up in Orange County, and that Coachella performance with Olivia Rodrigo. Also discussing feeling inspired by her songwriting process with a “group of amazing songwriters,” two of which were “young girls that were like ‘oh my God, my mom used to listen to you’, it was just so inspiring for me, you know, to be with, to see these girls and try to think back to what I was at that age and like they were.”

The conversation continued from there, with Gwen listing off and expanding on some of the amazing collaborators she worked with, getting a star on the Walk of Fame, being a coach on The Voice, and so much more. To catch it all, check out the entire Audacy Check In above.

[artzychic27]

(Just based off something from a Discord discussion a while ago. Here’s the Couffaine kids plus Vivica!)

Luka/Juleka: Here he comes, the Reptile Man, he's always ready with a trick or a scam!

Vivica: *angrily plays the ukulele*

Luka/Juleka: With his purple hair, tackey goatee, and outfit from glam rock 80s! He's a liar and a rogue who will take your songs and leave! He'll take away your happiness and fill the hole with grief! Here he comes, the Reptile Man, he's always ready with a trick or a scam!

Vivica: *angrily plays the mouth harp*

Luka/Juleka: He's a no-good husband and a deadbeat dad! If he disappeared for good, then we'd all be glad! His makeup's shit and his manner is brash! If you split him down the middle, all you'll find is trash! Here he comes, the Reptile Man, he's always ready with a trick or a scam!

Jagged: Where's the candy?

Anarka: There isn't any, just garbage to symbolize how rotten the Reptile Man is on the inside.

Vivica: *Angrily plays the violin*

Luka/Juleka: Got a hole for a soul and a heart like a knife! He let down his kids and wife! Never, ever marry him, he'll ruin your life! The Reptile Man! He's always ready with a trick! Or a lie! Or a con! Or a hustle! Or a hoax! Or a fraud! *Vivica angrily plays the drums* Or a racket! Or a sham! Or a diddle! Or a fiddle! Or a scam!

Akuma Class/Science Kids/Jagged Stone: 😨

Ivan: ... Well, it wasn't about me.

Jagged: Yeah, I know. I got the hint.

Luka: Don’t worry dad, the Reptile Man isn’t about you. It’s a tradition as old as time. Mom said it started when the lousy mooching Pilgrims first came to the Natives homeland and they were all abandoned by their deadbeat father. You know, the British.

(Will this be a thing in SB&IB?... Don't know)

[fxreflyes]

Prithee tell us about your favorite visits to museums, firefly. It’s a long and silent January night and your stories will keep madness from us. (To be read in the voice of a Dickensian child of 6 years old, sitting before the hearth.) ☕️

hey hey!! :) my favorite seafaring vessel, a joy as always to meet u here. fret not, i will not let madness consume you! <3

(the context for the voice definitely helped, i most certainly did read it in the voice of a dickensian child. i can hear the crackle of the hearth as i pen these words!)

oh where to start! this is a bit of a brain dump, but is semi-chronological and images included in the order of discussion

first, summer of 2016, going to the hermitage and making puns about all of the art! they were not good puns. i believe my brother called the statue below a "boar"ing statue. it was quite hot since we went in summer and we were very surprised that the musuem had no ac since there is generally some to protect the art from the elements. so twas a very sticky and humor filled walk thru some art that has seen quite a lot (pic 1)

fall of 2018, went to the met's heavenly body's fashion exhibit with 2 friends from high school. i love & still go to musuem's w one of them, she's v sweet. the exhibit took place in the part of the museum that is older and looks like a church, so it was v prescient!! (pics 2-4, the leather jacket was so cool)

spring 2019, went to the met again (can u tell i went to college in nyc) and to the frick for my art history class to do a scavenger hunt for the class. quite honestly the most fun assignment ever. it was going through the museums and finding the art and writing about it. there were 50 or so things to find out. we went 3 times total for 3 sessions of the hunt. went w my dad for one, he has said he wants to do more even now

fall of 2019 i went to the met's instruments of rock n roll and saw instruments from a lot of famous musicians! i have a bunch of pics of them, but was v fun i went w my dad and got a bunch of music taste from him so that was cool. i was v amused by this many headed guitar hahaha (pic 5)

winter 2020 i went to a black tie gala in an art musuem so that was v fun & festive!!!

ok covid took a hit to this list so fall 2021! natural history musuem in london! went w my brother bc he was doing his masters same time as i was studying abroad there. i mean it's gorgeous. my brother is v interested in rocks so spent a while in the geology section! lots of cool rocks.

feb 2022, went to the met around my bday! my bf flew to visit me. saw very cool swords. pictured below!

summer 2022, went to the Louvre and the musee d'Orsay! saw the painting of dante and virgil in hell which was v cool, i have always loved that one.

for the sake of brevity, lets go to feb 2023, went to the whitney to see my fav artist edward hopper and an exhibit on him! went w the same friend as i went to the met in 2018 w. went w my brother too. fav exhibit ever probably, just bc i love hopper and i have included my fav painting by him, new york movie! my mom had a book on hopper growing up on our coffee table so always read it

oh my this is not brief. the fire is dwindling! ill stoke it.

this summer! the prado in madrid! i love goya so seeing his work was just so cool. they v sadly didnt allow photography in the museum but saw his black paintings the ones w saturn eating his children.

i hope my little tales help stave off the madness <33

[heavencasteel420]

Can you do director’s commentary on Nancy’s letter drafts to Jonathan? 🥹 The one where she pretends she got Barb back killed me

Thank you for the ask! I'm so glad you liked the Barb letter; it was a late addition and I'm very fond of it myself.

(Some discussion of suicide and Billy being gross below the cut, not beyond what appears in the fic.)

Okay, so first of all, the Regular Letter:

Dear Jonathan,

I hope that you're doing well. I thought I would write to you to ask how things are going in Indianapolis. I know we didn’t really talk when you were still in Hawkins, but I was thinking about you the other day and wanted to see how you were.

What’s it like living in a city? I know it’s just Indianapolis, but I bet the record stores are better. I remember you liked all that art rock stuff. It’s probably nice to be in a place with more kinds of people, too. It gets a little boring around here.

Things are about the same for me. School is going well, even though I’m about to tear my hair out over chemistry. I’m still going out with Steve Harrington. You are probably making a face now and thinking “Ugh, Steve Harrington.”He’s actually matured a lot, though. And maybe you’re actually wondering why he’d go out with dorky Nancy Wheeler. Well, I haven’t matured a lot. I guess I’m about the same.

Do you remember Barb Holland, my best friend? There hasn’t been any news since you moved away. I don’t think she would’ve gone to Indianapolis, but could you keep an eye out for her?

Mom and Dad and Mike and Holly are all doing well. I hope you are, too.

Sincerely,

Nancy

Nancy's being so normal right now! She's very carefully trying not to brush up against any of the things about Jonathan's life that might be hard or weird or bad, which is difficult because all she has to go on is that he lives in Indianapolis with his dad and not in a mental hospital. (She remembers his taste in music, though!) She's sharing totally benign news about her own life

...and yet she's already getting a little weird with it. She brings up Jonathan's presumed dislike of Steve when (a) that's not something he ever shared with her and (b) it's not really a lighthearted topic, given that Jonathan's reason for disliking Steve is his obvious disdain for the Byers family. (I did have a draft where she says "ugh, Steve Harrington" in the letter she sends to Jonathan, and Jonathan's like "yes, Nancy, that's exactly how I said it, because I'm actually a Valley Girl now, how did you know?")

Her self-loathing also creeps in, albeit in a mild way. Her reasons for feeling not good enough for Steve are way sadder than her initial insecurity over him being cooler and slightly older, but she's still acting like Nice Girl Nancy in this letter so she reverts to that. And of course she asks about Barb.

(She crumpled up this letter and put it in the wastebasket because she thought it sounded too stupid.)

Now...the Mean Letter.

Dear Jonathan,

How are you doing? It doesn’t matter, because I’m about to make it worse, just like I always do. Maybe you remember the day I came up to you in the hallway and said I was sorry about Will. Maybe you don’t, because too many horrible things happened afterwards and there’s no reason you’d remember one wimpy girl offering her pathetic condolences. Either way, that’s maybe the last nice thing I ever did, and it wasn’t much.

Nancy's mostly being mean to herself here, but this would also be a super-fucked-up letter to send to Jonathan. She's just so angry at herself that she's indulging this fantasy of being horrible to other people, too.

Why am I writing to you, then, when I never talked to you when it might have actually helped? Well, hear me out: I was drinking in your old house with a bunch of kids who used to make fun of you for being weird and poor. That’s what people do in your old house now: drink and stare at the evidence of your mom losing her mind, like a bunch of ghouls. Tommy Hagan was one of them. Remember how he used to say you’d murdered Will? He feels kind of bad about it since you tried to kill yourself. Anyway, I drank too much bourbon and hallucinated your brother’s ghost. Just thought I’d let you know, in case you were nostalgic for the worst three months of your life. God, I hope they were the worst.

She's more actively ashamed of hanging out in his old house now (although, being Nancy, she's eventually going to be like "well, I did find Will's ghost, though!"). She's also recognizing that, even if she wrote it in a nice way, bringing up this false hope has the potential to be incredibly cruel.

What else is new? I let Billy Hargrove (you don’t know him, he moved here after you went away, but he’s an asshole) touch my boobs at a party, even though I’ve been going out with Steve Harrington for a year. I know Steve was always rude and snotty to you, but, trust me, I’m way worse than he is. I think Barb would hate the person I am now. Maybe she already knew I would turn out like this, and that’s why she left.

Her self-loathing is sharper and more specific here. She's not just hateful; Barb would hate her, and she caused Barb's disappearance by being awful. This is, of course, pretty nonsensical, given that (a) Barb couldn't predict the future and (b) if Barb could see what Nancy was going through, she would recognize that her drinking and her brittleness and her apathy are the result of losing her. She would be very sad!

I almost hope that’s true. If she left because she hated me, that would mean that she decided to leave, instead of being taken away. That would mean maybe she’s okay.

Anger is easier for Nancy to deal with than the grief underneath it, but the grief still works its way into the letter. She's probably a little drunk when she writes this.

I could probably get sued or even arrested for writing this letter. Recklessly using the U.S. Postal Service to inflict emotional distress or something. Maybe you can tell your dad to stop trying to sue the quarry and set his sights on Queen Bitch Nancy Wheeler instead.

I don’t know why I’m saying all of this to you. You don’t deserve it.

Sincerely yours,

Nancy

Again, this would be a fucked-up thing to say if she ever sent the letter, regardless of Jonathan's feelings about his dad. She scribbles over and tears up this letter, partly because she's horrified by it and partly because she really doesn't want Karen to find it. Karen totally goes through her stuff.

And the Barb Letter!

Dear Jonathan,

I know it’s probably weird to get a letter from me. We only really knew each other through Mike and Will, but you were always nice to them even when they (almost always Mike, let’s be honest) made me want to tear my hair out. I’m really sorry about everything that happened, and I should have written sooner. In my defense, a lot of things have been going on.

This is the only letter where Nancy really talks about Mike, who is mentioned throughout the non-letter parts of the chapter as being depressed and withdrawn. She's both concerned about and detached from his suffering; it doesn't occur to her to reach out to him herself. It's only in the fantasy letter than she can really acknowledge him.

When you left Hawkins, I was still going out with Steve Harrington and my best friend Barb was still missing. Neither of those things are true anymore. Steve was actually a good boyfriend. I know he wasn’t always great in other ways, but he really tried to be there for me when Barb was gone. I wasn’t a very good girlfriend. I was just sad all the time and picked fights with his friends. Not that it’s hard to get into fights with Tommy and Carol, but mostly I hated them for not being Barb.

After she came home, there wasn’t really any reason for us to keep dating. I just wanted to spend time with Barb and he didn’t feel like he had to look after me. He’s with Chrissy Cunningham now. You probably remember her—she was always really sweet and cute, and she made the cheerleading squad sophomore year. She’s good at it, too. Anyway, I’m really happy for her and Steve.

Deep down, Nancy knows what she wants and needs to let Steve go, at least as a boyfriend, but that's excruciatingly hard when she cares about him and he's her only friend...except for maybe Tommy and Carol, whom she assumes would stop hanging out with her if she broke up with Steve. And she does have some positive feelings towards them, too.

Chrissy, of course, has her own problems, but to Nancy she's an avatar of Ideal Teenage Girlhood.

Barb really did run away. She took a bus way out West, to some little town in Nevada. She worked as a waitress and lived in a dirty house with a bunch of other girls. She says it was exciting sometimes, and the desert was beautiful, but mostly it was just hard and lonely. She wanted to come home pretty soon after she left, but she couldn’t face everyone after scaring them so badly. It was only after some asshole stole all her money that she called home.

Nancy has, without realizing it, constructed a Desert Hearts scenario for Barb in her head. She's going to hold onto that lesbian dream even though she is only barely aware that Barb might've been gay.

I was mad at her for maybe five seconds after I found out, because I’d worried something worse had happened, but I couldn’t stay that way. I was too happy to have her back. Besides, she was going through a lot of things I never knew about. I won’t go too much into it because it’s her private business, but she felt really alone and some of that was because of how I acted. She thought I was going to ditch her for Steve and his friends. I don’t think I would have. I love her too much. But I can understand why she thought so. I think some people can be good no matter what happens or who they’re with, but I’m not one of them. I didn’t like who I was with Steve and his friends, and it wasn’t even their fault. It was me.

Nancy's kind of overcorrecting here. Obviously she was not immune to peer pressure as a high school sophomore, but as we see in canon this is a function of youth and circumstances, not an essential wishy-washiness in her soul. This is the girl who, at a crucial popularity-making moment, offered her condolences to Jonathan when the people she was with clearly thought it was weird and unnecessary.

I wish I’d talked to you in between coming up to you at the bulletin board that day and writing this letter. I knew things were bad, that your mom wasn’t working or even leaving the house anymore, and you always looked so tired in school. My mom was worried about you both. I didn’t feel like I could do anything to help, because I was so messed up myself, but maybe it would’ve made a difference. Which is maybe why I’m writing now. I have no idea how things are for you in Indianapolis. I don’t expect you to write back to me and tell me. But, if you want to write me, I’d like to hear from you. Mike would probably also like to hear how you’re doing. He misses Will, too.

Yours truly,

Nancy

She's not being totally fair to herself here, either. Even Karen, an adult with some resources who cared about the Byers family and recognized there was a problem, couldn't figure out what to do on her own. But the instinct for noticing and connecting is a good one.

The Final Letter!

Dear Jonathan,

I’ve tried to write this letter a bunch of times, but I don’t think there’s any getting around the fact that I’m doing something weird. We never really talked before, except in passing. It wasn’t because I had bad feelings towards you. Our lives just seemed so different. You always seemed like a miniature adult, looking after your brother and working to pay the bills, while I was reading Seventeen with Barb and fantasizing about marrying Mikhail Baryshnikov.

This is a pretty blunt thing to say, that she noticed his life was hard and she found that alienating. She's getting farther and farther away from writing the letter the way she would to a real person; this is a note in a bottle, a message beamed into space.

Also, I strongly believe in younger Nancy's crush on ballet dancer and Soviet defector Mikhail Baryshnikov. My mom is almost an exact contemporary of Nancy's, and that was her junior high crush.

I almost didn’t come up to you at the bulletin board that day, because what could I say to you? My biggest problem was trying to date Steve Harrington without hurting Barb’s feelings or strangling his friends. Isn’t it strange that I thought that, and the very next day my own best friend disappeared and no one seemed to know what to say to me? Barb’s parents are the only other people I know who would understand, and of course it’s worse for them, but they’re so optimistic that she’ll come back that I feel like the worst person in the world around them. Because I think she’s dead. Maybe you remember me screaming in the hallway about it, after I broke my own hand. I don’t do crazy stuff like that anymore, but I still believe what I said. I can almost believe that Barb would run away, that something was making her so unhappy that she couldn’t stay in Hawkins and for some reason she couldn’t tell me what it was, but I can’t believe she would leave me and her parents without letting us know she was safe. She was responsible. She loved her parents. She loved me.

Nancy and Steve aren't regularly having dinner with the Hollands in this universe, because Nancy doesn't feel a special responsibility due to knowing the truth. They're still in town, though, and holding on to the hope that Barb is alive. This is part of why Nancy doesn't say anything to Jonathan about Will's voice; she knows how cruel hope can be.

She's a little more clear-headed here, though. No matter how bad she feels about her last moments with Barb, intellectually she recognizes that they probably weren't enough to drive Barb away and that something is off.

I feel like I moved to another country after she disappeared. Everyone else I know is still in America and I’m in Kiribati. Do you feel that way, too, or is it different because you’re in a new place? I’m not trying to say our situations are exactly the same, but I think you might understand what I’m feeling more than anyone in Hawkins. Why didn’t I talk to you before? I saw you, drifting through the halls like a ghost, and I felt bad.

She's not consistently keeping in mind that he might read this letter. She's expressing compassion here, but she's also calling him a ghost, which is pretty messed-up.

I don’t really understand why I did anything back then, honestly. Did you know I poured pig blood all over Officer Callahan’s car last May? (His personal car, not his cop car—I wasn’t that stupid.) He acted like a pig the first time I talked to him and Officer Powell about Barb disappearing, making it all about how I had sex with Steve Harrington that night. He did that in front of my mom, and he looked really pleased with himself for embarrassing me. Like he was knocking me down a peg for thinking I had something important to tell the police, and that was way more important to him than the fact that Barb was in danger. I guess I was still stewing about it months later, because I got drunk and bitched about it to Carol—you remember Carol Perkins? Big hair, bigger mouth?—and she said I should do something about it. So she and Tommy Hagan helped me get some pig’s blood and dump it all over his car the very next week. I think that’s why I’m still friends with them. They’re assholes sometimes, but it wasn’t easy to get all that pig’s blood.

Nancy "Fuck Tha Police" Wheeler, everyone. Powell and Callahan are mostly comic figures in the show, but their behavior when they're questioning Nancy in front of her mom in S1 is so incredibly gross, especially Callahan's.

Carol and Nancy might not get along, but she's not gonna let some sleazy cop insult her sort-of friend! Tommy was like "oh, this fucks, actually" about it.

This is another instance where Nancy is being super-frank, in a way she might not be if she really expected an answer from Jonathan.

Steve—I’m still going out with Steve Harrington—thought we took it a little too far. He’s nicer than me, and he was worried about me getting in trouble. I did, of course. Callahan didn’t press charges, but my parents had to pay for repairs. Dad was so confused. He actually asked if I wanted people to think I was a Manson Girl. Mom made me go see a psychiatrist, who was almost as disgusting as Callahan. I didn’t even know a woman could be that gross. All she wanted to do was talk about why I had sex with Steve when we hadn’t been going out that long. Like wanting to have sex with a good-looking guy made me a nympho and that was the real problem. I don’t know if you’ve seen a psychiatrist, but, if you have, I hope it was actually helpful and not a stupid, humiliating waste of time.

Nancy kind of gets off the hook for being a nice white middle-class girl, plus all of Hawkins knows why she's Like That. Karen's intentions are good, but Ted's indifference is a powerful force, especially when the first psychiatrist is bad.

She's sort of acknowledging some uncomfortable facts about Jonathan's life now, and maybe kind of fishing for info.

Mom stopped making me go pretty soon, at least, since I’d calmed down and Dad kept pestering her about the bill. I still do messed-up stuff, but I’m sneakier about it. I drink a lot. Bourbon is my favorite. I also let this really sleazy new senior, Billy Hargrove, put his hand on my boob at a party this Halloween. It wasn’t a surprise or anything. He gave me more than enough time to say “I have a boyfriend” or move away. I wanted to let him, because he was looking at me like I was something gross he’d stepped in, and that was how I felt.

Billy makes a move on Nancy mostly because she's Steve's girlfriend and he feels the need to knock Steve down a peg so Billy can be the Big Man on Campus. (This may also be a way to channel his own attraction to Steve—either way, it’s not very nice to Nancy.) But he’s also intrigued by how much she hates it. Also, this isn’t a case where Nancy freezes up, but that could have very well been what was happening so Billy is doing something kind of shitty.

You probably don’t want to hear any of this. I would understand if you threw this letter in the garbage. Even if you do, I want to let you know I’m glad you’re alive. That was the only good thing to come out of this whole mess.

Love,

Nancy

Nancy lashes out and distances herself a lot in this fic, but she has a lot of kindness in her heart and she really means this, partly just because Jonathan is a fellow human being and partly because she’s holding onto the idea that someone got out of Hawkins and was able to be happy. This is also pretty blunt of her—she’s acknowledging the suicide attempt—but in this case her directness is actually pretty necessary. He hasn’t heard this much, if ever, between Joyce not knowing he tried to kill himself and Lonnie refusing to acknowledge (to him, anyway) that the attempt was serious.

[rainydawgradioblog]

A Treatise on Clapping Between Movements

When attending the symphony, the concert hall tradition dictates that there is a fair amount of etiquette involved. Tradition would have it that concertgoers dress appropriately, maintain a certain level of silence and stillness, and clap only at the appropriate intervals. This standard of etiquette can come off as intimidating, and at times, these unspoken rules seem overly austere for the act of enjoying music, which is common to us all. I don’t have time to get into the entirety of why classical music is viewed as an elitist genre, so I will stick to my points on the classical concert experience. These centuries-old concert hall traditions present barriers to those trying to get into classical music, and I sense people have a reluctance to enter a world that was once restricted to the bourgeoisie. But times are changing, and as such, I wanted to write about one of those points of etiquette that has been on my mind since seeing Ravel’s Piano Concerto in G at the Seattle Symphony. So, let’s discuss why the hell we can’t clap between movements. 

I start this treatise with an anecdote. In my freshman year of college, I was thoroughly in love with classical music, but I was still what I would consider a newbie to the concert hall scene. I went to see Grieg’s piano concerto performed by Jan Lisiecki, and it was what I would describe as a mind-blowing experience. The first movement rocked my world, so it made perfect sense to clap uproariously once it ended. However, I soon noticed that it was only me and the other uninitiated few who were clapping, and I even felt a glare coming from a man on my right. A flush lept to my cheeks, and I felt that I had just committed some serious symphony sin. Later, my mom (in her infinite wisdom) explained to me that you’re not supposed to clap between movements. From that point forward, I decided I would follow concert etiquette to a T so as to exude my high-brow, worldly nature. In following concerts, I felt a sense of cultured superiority when I (in my infinite wisdom) didn’t clap between movements, unlike the other clapping plebeians. 

I will now disclaim that I don’t actually think that those who clap between movements are plebeians, but for a long time, I did hold a strong conviction that clapping should be held until the end of a work. I’ve heard several pieces where clapping interrupts the continuity between movements, and I felt it would be better when you could sit in the intended silence. I held to this conviction even tighter when I discovered that Mendelssohn and Schumann had a distaste for applause before the conclusion of a multi-movement work. If these beloved composers didn’t want me to clap, what better reason for me to keep my hands glued to my lap? However, I soon began to loosen my grip on this etiquette as I realized it was doing nothing to encourage newcomers to support the art that I so dearly love. My judgment upon those who clap willy-nilly waned, but I myself continued to clap only at the end, until recently.

Pianist Alexandra Dariescu had her Seattle Symphony debut with her performance of Maurice Ravel’s Piano Concerto in G. Prior to this performance, I had never particularly enjoyed this concerto, as I found it a bit quirky for my tastes. However, Dariescu and the SSO absolutely brought it to life, so much so that I found myself breaking one of my cardinal rules of concert etiquette. At the explosive end of the first movement, it felt like my hands were attached to magnets oscillating between like and unlike poles, and before I knew it, I was clapping in between movements. Since then, I have been listening to recordings of this concerto with renewed consideration and reevaluating my strictness on clapping etiquette. This is mind-expanding stuff. 

In the end, I believe the Seattle Symphony does a really good job of making the concert hall a more inviting place. There are no dress codes, and they don’t foster a culture of turning up your nose at those who are uninitiated in the classical sphere. As far as I’m concerned, you can clap whenever the music has paused, and it feels appropriate to do so.  While I will probably continue to wear nice dresses and withhold my applause for the end, I want to make it known that at Benaroya Hall, there is a general culture of coming as you are. I won’t lie to you and say that there isn’t the errant 70-year-old who will shoot a look for clapping out of turn, but we young people are the new generation of art patrons, and the more we attend, the more things change. I don’t think there is anything inherently elitist about the enjoyment of classical music, and it is part of my mission to demystify the traditions that can seem like barriers to entry. I love this music and this environment so dearly that I will continue to do what’s in my power to encourage one and all to come and try it out.

That’s all for now, xoxo, your classical correspondent,

Addie

[ayearwithoutwater]

Fifteen.

There was a time in my life when I thought I had hazel eyes.

This was back when I was just over a decade old. Intuitively, I knew that hazel as a color leans closer to the fragmented shades of pistachio, but I was a child who wanted to feel special, and I rationalized that the complexities of hazel, not merely green, allowed for the inclusion of brown. My eyes are firmly brown (not even remotely hazel), but there was a song, you see, that I loved, that made me feel seen, and I wanted to stake my claim on that song because it was mine. It was about me and nobody else.

I'm talking, of course, about "Behind These Hazel Eyes" by Kelly Clarkson.

I spoke a little bit, in Six, about how music came into my life. I touched upon my tastes initially settling within the realm of pop and alternative rock, but I refrained from mentioning her by name because I wasn't yet ready to delve into this particular relationship of mine. Now, I think it's finally time to talk about Kelly Clarkson.

(thick_flair). "22 years ago they went searching for America's best singer and, amazingly enough, found it [on] the first try." 28 September 2024, 1:50 PM ET. Tweet.

The zeitgeist of American Idol's premiere season has since been discussed in great detail by plenty of people, so I seek only to describe what it felt like to a child witness.

I remember being surprised that my parents were watching TV, and an American reality show at that—though I didn't then possess the vernacular to describe my surprise as such, of course. We never used our TV except for KSCI's Chinese programming on channel 18, so it was fairly unusual for our household to be watching something so, well, American. I remember tuning in week after week to watch the pool of competitors winnow until, finally, only two were left: Kelly, and someone else.

I know the second finalist. His name is on the tip of my tongue, and I could Google it if I really wanted to. I know he starred in a campy musical film with her after the competition ended, and I know he went on to have a career on Broadway. I could name him—heck, I remember voting for him, for no reason other than I was a boy and he was the male finalist and boys stupidly stick together, right?—but that extra second of effort it would take to do so only illustrates the degree to which I actually cared about him. I didn't. It was always about Kelly.

Honestly, I was too young to be able to fully grasp the immensity of her talent. Years afterward, in high school, in college, and in my 20s, I would return over and over to YouTube videos of her weekly televised performances, chiefly her cover of "(You Make Me Feel Like) A Natural Woman" by the legendary Aretha Franklin, wherein Kelly chose to show off just a hint of her actual range. I would also return later, as a Mariah Carey superfan, to her take on Mariah's cover of "Without You" (originally by Badfinger) as well as her post-Idol rendition of "Love Takes Time" in 2003 (not 2022!) to marvel, over and over, at how America really did strike gold on the first attempt. No reality singing competition winner since has ever come close.

That fateful finale, America voted for her—even my mom voted for her—and she won. She starred in that musical film, put out her debut album, notched a couple of hit singles, and might have disappeared altogether had her follow-up not been an actual blockbuster of a smash album.

According to MySpace, one of my high school peers back then admitted her embarrassment at Breakaway being the first CD she ever bought. It was maybe the third or fifth CD that I ever purchased when I decided to properly begin my own collection of physical music (which still endures today).

The Breakaway singles—"Breakaway," "Since U Been Gone," "Because Of You," "Walk Away," and, of course, "Behind These Hazel Eyes"—were inescapably omnipresent. For a good two years, it felt like she had a hit record on power rotation at every Southern California radio station, regardless of genre, regardless of time of day. And, for an angsty pre-teen about to embark on his own prolonged journey of introspection and depression, her songs hit home.

Like so many others, I spent my early teens in a constant cycle of self-discovery. Between my own class, race, and sexuality, my conscious was in overdrive. With regard to music, then, my precocious self decided that he was only interested in sad boy alternative rock bands, but Kelly was acceptable because she wasn't like the other pop stars. She was cool. Her songs were pop, but they had killer percussions and guitars and felt viscerally raw. Her music was real.

The chorus of "Behind These Hazel Eyes" goes as such:

Here I am, once again I'm torn into pieces Can't deny it, can't pretend Just thought you were the one Broken up, deep inside But you won't get to see the tears I cry Behind these hazel eyes

Despite almost never crying regardless of how empty I felt, despite having only kind-of-sort-of dated a girl for a month and therefore having basically zero romantic experience, despite not having hazel eyes, I related so hard to that song. It was one of the first songs I ever heard via LimeWire, it was one of the first songs I ever added to my very first iPod (mini), and it was one of the very first songs I ever had on constant repeat. I remember one instance at school where my iPod was confiscated from me because I was listening to it during our homeroom hours as we (they, because I never actually spoke the words) recited the Pledge of Allegiance. I didn't have any time to be or interest in being patriotic—I was busy listening to Kelly Clarkson.

Discovering her third album, My December, was another turning point for me. Breakaway proved she had angst; My December proved she had staying power. Every song off that third album felt as though it had been crafted, bespoke, for me. I was so angry—I didn't really know why—I just felt worthless and alone, as if nobody cared about me, as if my existence meant nothing, and her music somehow made my days more bearable as I counted down to the end of high school, when I could finally escape my suburban prison and be free to be me. (I'm lying, obviously, because I did know why I was so angry—my parents were beyond negligent—but I could do nothing but acknowledge that fact; I couldn't change my material reality until I graduated.) Kelly's music spoke directly to the lightless void within me, and I became such a fan that I even followed her WordPress. I didn't have a parasocial relationship with her (because that sort of obsessiveness is weird to me), but I really, really liked her music. To this day, My December is still one of my favorite albums of all time.

In 2014, I took a job at Sony Music for a year. I worked in marketing, setting up releases for new music across all of Sony Music's roster…which included Kelly. This was right after she'd released her first Christmas album, Wrapped In Red, from which the department had plenty of marketing materials (including a Kelly Clarkson cardboard standee; see: Four’s cover image) for me to take home, and just before her next proper album, Piece By Piece. One of my close friends tipped me off that Kelly would be in the office on one of my off days; to compensate for missing out on the chance to meet my favorite singer, I handwrote a letter for my friend to pass to her, in which I explained that I'd been a fan since I was a child, that I loved My December above all of her other works, and that I wanted her to release more Mariah Carey-esque songs. (I take credit for Meaning Of Life's "Medicine," which bears a striking resemblance to Mariah's "Emotions"—thank you, Jackster!)

But, my relationship with her would soon change, perhaps most of all due to a couple of my ex-boyfriends. I'll get into that next week.

[archivedtags]

𝑬NTRY : 𝟎𝟎𝟏

February 1st, 2024.

Navy grabbed the handle of her Hermés Kelly bag, the brown leather gripped tightly in palm, an arm full of papers tucked underneath her opposite one. Huffing lowly as she tossed the papers onto the counter, she began to sort them repeatedly until the corners all matched one another, the edges perfectly pointed, or her brain insisted she started again. Her assistant Grace knocked on the entryway to alert her boss of her presence, "Showtime, plan for Paris leaves soon."

Her focus was drawn away from the task at hand, leaving her annoyed and slightly uneasy—but that was all in her head. Something she would think about for the rest of the day, why she couldn't get the papers perfectly, why she couldn't do it right the first time. In the back of her head she would hear her trainer, "Is this horse in control or are you, Navy? Because I'm starting to think you're just sitting up there to look pretty. Again." Clearing her throat to snap out of her own thoughts, she pulled the sunglasses down her face and sauntered towards her partner in crime, "Let's do this."

Navy's schedule:

6:00am : hot sculpt pilates.

7:00am : walk with willow.

9:00am : meetings at the atelier, fittings, treatments.

12:00pm : music video or photoshoot.

12:00-6pm : set.

6:00pm : early dinner with willow. (bring her to set, have a personal dinner with her, do learning activities.)

8:00pm : bedtime routine.

10:00pm : catch up on emails & read.

ADDITIONS.

fly to paris to meet with beyoncé about superbowl look and cowboy carter rollout.

google meetings with: oliver rousteing, tom ford, rolling stone.

meet with mugler's team to discuss archive.

Navy's fingers continued to tap at the open Macbook's keys while her assistant read her schedule out to her, nodding her head periodically to show some signs of life as opposed to the mindless staring she was doing. "I hear you, I can repeat everything back. Can you get Rya and Luca in here, B will be here any minute and I know she's going to want to go through every single option we have."

As they stood in the middle of the hotel room that was now turned into a full blown dressing room, Navy knelt down in front of the Mogul, pinching at the fabric and adding safety pins in where she felt adjustments needed to be made. A weak smile overcame her features as she admired her work. I'm perfect.. It's perfect.. She thought to herself, they're gonna love me, they're gonna love this outfit.

February 10th, 2024.

As she held her daughter to her chest, the sleeping child calming her nerves. The stylist' mother stood with her head tilted to the side and hip jutted out, "When was the last time you ate, or slept through the night, or—or just did nothing. You work nearly seven days a week, all day, and you're a mom to a nine-month old. You can't do it all." Her harshly spoken whispers were rhetorical, she knew the answer, Navy knew this song and dance, we would promise to be better; She would eat to pacify her, sleep to dream about what her next moves were, take on more projects. But, she would never stop. "I'm fine, I feel better than I ever have, don't you see, ma? I'm gonna be perfect. One day history books will call me the best stylist, the youngest one too. Willow will be proud of me, I can do it all." Soft bounces in tandem with her words as she rocked her child, cradling the full head of curls. "You always told me that second place was for losers, they'll never rate me second best again. I can't stop until I'm first."

Navy's mother knew all too well that her tough love would one day crack the young woman, but she didn't envision that all the shattered pieces would decorate her with a hunger for more, wanting to be better at the expense of herself. Then again, she was just overcompensating for the fact she could possibly never carry her own children. How can they focus on her flaws when she's outwardly.. perfect.

[leche-flandom]

The Phils, 2023

I feel far removed enough from our trip to the Phils last year to write down memories of it to remember in my old age. Sans any real traumatic details, of course.

-Korean Airlines flight safety videos are presented through music videos by kpop idols, lol.

-Perhaps sensing the dysfunctional hell it was about to travel to, the straps and zipper on my husband's duffel bag spontaneously ripped on our first layover, so he had to buy a replacement. But we were in LA with only hoity toity luggage stores around, and the cost of a carry on case of the same size was insane! The next best thing we could do was a tiny book bag that cost $85. It's the perfect size for our daughter, lol.

-My father, to his literally dying days, remains an utter snob and asshole. The way he treated my mom, my mom's helper, my mom's helper's children, me, and various relatives reminded me that his condition doesn't excuse or erase everything else he's done. There's no last minute character redemption from him in his old age. He still tried to manipulate me (and partially succeeded, if I'm being honest). I didn't want to go on this trip. I had a meltdown at LAX before boarding, actually. But at least the whole thing reconfirmed my perspective of him.

-My aunt and mom tried to say that they're not chismosas because they only discuss family drama with other family. But my grandparents were productive as hell y'all, and I think "other family" constitutes 25% of the city's population. For example, on various outings we'd get lost and we'd stop to ask directions from pedestrians. Twice we ended up discovering the person giving us directions was related to us in some way. They learned that the beach venue my mom booked for a family reunion was owned by a relative of my paternal grandmother. Can't throw a rock without hitting kin there. I'm sure if my parents hadn't emigrated, I'd have accidentally dated a cousin or something.

-Ironically, we went to a wedding and during the vows my cousin was like, "Wait...I don't recognize anyone here." We had arrived late, after all (Filipino time), so there was a good chance we were watching strangers tie the knot. She had to sneak around the pews until she found the mother of the bride and confirmed we weren't crashing.

-My husband's never been the minority before, so when we'd go out and people would unsubtly stare or talk about him, he said, "Huh. So that's what that feels like." While I was of course happy to have him and my daughter with me, I did sort of regret that I was unable to enjoy the ability to blend in when I was out and about with them.

-I tried to warn my family what the heat is like the second you step out of the airport (like walking into a wall of hot wet cotton). Even then, the moment we were outside, my kid went, "You weren't kidding!"

-It was harder to find the vibrant, colorful jeepneys this time around, because they're unfortunately being phased out. Just another reason for me to detest this government.

-Fiesta was fun, but the speakers and lights of the amateur talent performances stage caused a blackout for our entire block. Apparently this happens every year. C'mon man. They need to be more cautious considering how much folks need their fans and AC units. At one point, the weather forecast said "84*F, record low." TF you mean, record low?

-My daughter made two "BFFs" while there. One was my mom's helper's daughter, a sweet little 5 year old whose fam conveniently lives in the basement apartment of our house (and seeing her in the upper levels playing with his granddaughter really bugged my snob father, which was a plus). The other was my favorite cousin's daughter, on my mother's side.

-We didn't see much of my father's relatives, which I was fine with. A lot of them think we should let bygones be bygones and pretend that my dad never did all the terrible things he's done. But there was one cousin on my father's side, R, with whom I often fought when we were younger. R's mom brought R's daughter over one day, and she and my kid did NOT get along. The asshole gene is a dominant one.

-It's pretty well known that I have a bad temper, which I've struggled to control for all my life. After spending so many consecutive days with my parents, my husband said it's surprising that I didn't turn out to be an angrier person, HA! My father is my father, and my mom is...not maternal, to say the least.

-The family house is in pretty poor condition, which I expected because my dad had been spending the upkeep/repair money my mom sent him on other things, and that was really hard for my germaphobic anxiety. But we couldn't stay at an airbnb or hotel because my mom tried really hard to spruce it up for our visit. My sister and I dramatically assigned meaning to how their extravagant house, which they insisted being built American-style, ultimately crumbled and failed in their home country. (English lit majors, y'all. We're insufferable.)

-Gosh, I do NOT know what to do with those super helpful, hovering sales associates in most stores. I much preferred the ones who peaced out when they heard us speak English because they didn't want to risk a nosebleed (a common joke among Filipinos, even though your average Filipino's knowledge of English is SO MUCH MORE impressive than any foreigner's knowledge of Tagalog, due to schooling and western media saturation).

-Folks just...call on each other without warning? Even though we all have the means now to ask if a visit would be okay ahead of time? And, whether anyone was home or not, we (or the helper) were obligated to give these unannounced guests merienda? As if this was Regency England or something? I did not like that. I did not like that at all. Fiesta day was the worst day, with dozens of relatives in & out and talking all at once. But at least my mom bought me a whole sans rival that day, so that was nice, even if my cousins ended up eating half of it.

-Joshua & Warlen of Tayabas City make the best pastillas. They're the perfect crumbly texture. And the perfect size to hold between my fingers like a cigarette. I need a lifetime supply.

-While getting around the city, I was worried about the lack of booster seat or safety buckles for my kid before I was reminded that the cars, tricycles, and jeepneys weave so slowly around each other that the risk of a major accident is pretty low.

-Spending so much time with my daughter convinced my sister and her husband that they don't want to have children, which is doing everyone a favor really. Good job kid.

-Everywhere you look, there is a mango, tamarind, coconut, etc tree. The novelty never wore off for my mom, who opportunistically asked any resort worker in sight if they'd give some to her; her bounty would eventually ripen and rot in our kitchen. The remnants of growing up food insecure, I guess.

-It was weird that we (me and my cousins) are the grownups now. And that they still continue the unhealthy tradition of warning the kids who played in the sun that they would get darker. I had to say multiple times, "It's okay. We're brown and it's okay." And it was another thing making sure to gently stop a relative when they inappropriately commented on any of our bodies ("you got bigger"...you mean after aging out of my teens and having a baby, I got bigger? No shit Sherlock). The unhealthy Filipino standards of beauty cycle stops here, y'all.

-My uncle's farm remains the worst smelling place on earth. Yes this is a very urban opinion.

-The spiders are still plate sized. How dare they not evolve into something smaller.

-Because my sister and I were sorta in charge this time, we opted to go to the touristy places one often sees in travel ads, instead of sticking to our hometown. Batangas was beautiful! There were monkeys on the roof of our cabin! And a hidden cove! I've never seen so many stars! I even saw a shooting one!

-Villa Escudero was enjoyable, not just for the waterfall restaurant, but also for the cultural show. My kid, when faced with the choice of swimming or watching the history of the Phils illustrated through singing, music, and dances, surprisingly chose the latter.

-The most important thing was my kid making fond memories of the Phils. Her western upbringing means that she'll get a good impression of the American-European half of her heritage without any effort from us. Now, instead of a random bunch of islands on a map, she'll think of the Philippines as the place with her best friends, daily pandesal breakfasts, fun tricycle rides, endless neighborhood chickens, etc, etc. That makes it worth it, I guess, even if the horrors of this trip ended up making my hair fall out later, lol.

[uniquejellyfishqueen]

May 30th 2024,

To anyone who has EVER doubted Taylor Allison Swifts brain would probably expire if they used their complaining time more wisely. I just read an article about elephants, that’s all I’m gonna say about it. But upon finishing this article really think that this world is not smart enough for her, she was never the problem. Society was because they can’t accept her. Society is the problem in general because they have the problem of not wanting to accept change. It isn’t just society’s opinion on music being the problem it is that this beautiful country has decided that they want to challenge Merriam-Webster on the true definition of an opinion.

The definition of an opinion is a view or judgement formed about something, not necessarily based on fact or knowledge

so when did Society decide that the definition of opinion is actually action.

The definition of action is the fact or process of doing something, typically to achieve an aim.

To sum that up for you the question should be: When did society start believing that if others didn’t like your opinion it was ok to take action about it? This is why so many people have kept their opinions to themselves. This is why people run away. This is why people become hermits. The world we are living in is a mean and toxic place and Forrest Gump was absolutely correct “Life is like a box of chocolates you never know what you’re going to get.”

The article with the elephants was also sneaky in the fact that I do believe the theory of that article can be applied to not only her music but someone else in the music industry who became a hermit of sorts. I fell down a rabbit hole for this woman and honestly there is so much to learn that I might be down here for a while. I stumbled across an article about using certain methods and techniques in her videos as one would do for younger children when things are placed in pop culture and it would jog your memory to connect to something else entirely. Ms Rachel is very good at using this way of teaching as well in her videos, with repetitive images or songs played you will remember what was on the screen. Her one music video alone can transport you to a movie, and not just any movie I’m talking about a movie that developed a massive cult following and to this day it is a conspiracy theory that is rocking the nation, but like maybe that’s where the don’t rock the boat song came from? Anyways I can’t remember her name because all i think about is that she looks like someone’s mom, I’d say lets call her Stacy’s mom but…. does anyone know what Stacy’s mom’s name was? Honestly thank you Fountains Of Wayne for apparently giving an interview 3/19/2024 to discuss the name of my maroon car I think she was an 08 or around there. (Ah may she rest in peace… and no I don’t believe that she could still be on the road today. The fuck is wrong with you?)

God its hard typing with a 20 month old. Oh wow she will be 21 months in a few days, that makes me so sad. But honestly looking at her shine is the best thing in the world. It’s a frustrating thing being a mom especially in today’s times but i have so much hope for her and for who she is destined to be!

[chorusfm]

Liner Notes (May 18th, 2024)

Buckle up—we have a lot to discuss this week. This week’s supporter Q&A post can be found here. If you’d like this newsletter delivered to your inbox each week (it’s free and available to everyone), you can sign up here. A Few Things * One of the recent member-only episodes of the ATP podcast was all about “computer origin stories” or “first computer memories.” I’m roughly the same age as Casey and Marco and their core memories and histories mirrored mine quite a bit. And hearing them talk about their origin stories had me thinking about mine. My first memory of seeing a computer was in first grade when there was a computer in the elementary school library. Maybe an Apple IIGS? It was too long ago and I don’t know for sure. But a found family film makes it pretty clear I spent time with it. (Cool haircut first grade Jason.) I remember playing games like Carmen Sandiego. However, it wasn’t until middle school that my memories of using a computer start to solidify. I can remember vividly the computer labs at Twality Middle School. This is where I can remember my obsession beginning. At some point my parents bought a home computer for “the family.” It was a PC running DOS and Windows 3.1. Look, I’m very clearly old. I’m 41 and remember typing book reports on a typewriter before that computer. And this is when my obsession went into overdrive. I liked playing video games, what kid didn’t?, but I loved trying to figure out how all the software worked. I wanted to learn all the tips and tricks. I wanted to know how the system worked. Which meant I broke that computer. A lot. A lot a lot. I re-installed Windows on that thing from floppy disks more times than I can count. And this was where I first started playing around with Qbasic and did my first “programming.” My first memory of seeing the “internet” was at OMSI. My mom used to take my cousin and me there during summer vacation, and they had a computer lab. I remember downloading Simpsons WAV files and Dark Forces cheat codes, so this would have had to be around 1995, and I would have been around 14. At some point, breaking the family computer became a thing my parents got sick of, and my grandparents helped them purchase my own. Windows 95 and having my computer is where the already probably unhealthy technology obsession went supersonic. And this would be when I started playing around with HTML for the first time and soon after would begin writing what would turn into AbsolutePunk. That’s, best I can remember, my computing origin story. High school was primarily spent tinkering with PCs, installing various Linux distros, and using Windows throughout college. It wouldn’t be until around 2010 that I bought my first Mac. But, that’s probably a story for another time. * Anadivine was one of the hidden gems of the early 2000s scene, and they released a new 2024 remix/remaster of their album, Zoo_. It sounds great, and even if you never checked them out back in the day, it holds up all these years later. Also, if any labels read this and are interested in doing a limited vinyl pressing of the album, I can put you in contact with the band. Just let me know. * Aaron Mook, a contributor to AbsolutePunk and Chorus, has launched a GoFundMe to raise emergency medical funds for his cat. Please take a look if you’re able. In Case You Missed It * Review: Dua Lipa – Radical Optimism * Review: Keane – Hopes & Fears * Review: Broadway Calls – Coming After You * Review: Cold Years – A Different Life * Rise Against Announce New Tour * The Blood Brothers Announce Tour * Interview: Tony Lovato of Mest * The Used Announce B-Side Album * Alice Wallace – “Imposter” (Video Premiere) * Head Automatica – “Bear the Cross” * One OK Rock Announce World Tour * Avril Lavigne Announces Greatest Hits Album * Albums in Stores – May 17th, 2024 Music Thoughts * Lot’s of music to catch up on! Origami Angel released a new single, and it rules. I’m absolutely ready for a new Gami album. Their last… https://chorus.fm/features/articles/liner-notes-may-18th-2024/

[aquiescentraconteur]

I promise

My sweet girl,

I came across something last night that made me think of you.

I’ve been reading “The Restlessness Book” which, I must say, is a mandatory reading after you’ve turned 25, at least! The author is considered “one of the masters” and I have to say, I never really understood why! Until I read this particular book.

It is a compilation of his thoughts and emotions, his most private reflections. It’s not the first work of his I’m reading, but it is the first I’m a fan of. There are thousands of passages, a few of them, quite small. Some of them, are pages long. The man has always been known for his geniality or schizophrenia, you pick!

 One of my best friends suggested I read it, R., I’ve told you about him before. He’s the older brother I never had a chance to meet, my nightmares’ guardian. I am thankful for many people in my life, but he holds a very special place in my heart.

I’m rambling again, sorry! This is the particular quote that made me think of you: “I realized I missed not him, but of my idea of him.”, and that got me thinking about how much I worry you might feel this. I never want you to look at me and see a fable of a person, the cradle of a lie.

I guess the only way I can control that is by promising you to always be truthful, and I do. I promise not to lie – okay, scratch that. I promise to only do white lies. I’ve loved this concept ever since my dad first told me about it, he used to tell me: “If what you’re going to say isn’t going to make things better, be quiet.” I guess I always listen to him, even now.

I realized that I’ve talked about a lot of important people here, I’ve described the main individuals that have been present throughout this journey and made it better. From the girls to the guys, you’ve heard of all of them, got to know them even. But you never heard of me.

So, who is your mom?

She’s both simplicity and intricacy – this girl can explain the most complex concepts in a few words and transform really simple things into convoluted objects. I can see a very straight line in regard to the discussion on human rights applications and a very confusing and elaborate path when talking about 0’s and 1’s.

She’s a black and white girl, with colourful moments and greyish occasions. I’ll give an example: I’m the biggest fan of Matisse but my favourite colour is white. I love to see the colour red on my skin tone, but I own very few pieces of that particular tone. I used to decorate my childhood room with orange and pink, now? It’s all brown and cream.

She’s a romantic who has been fighting to believe in love. You know where I stand on this, no point in elaborating more right? Just know that romance, silk and lace are my personal favourites, they're just on hold at the moment.

She’s a sugar addict, full stop. There’s no opposite side on this one. I’m a girl who will have macaroons for breakfast and vanilla ice cream for dinner, no problem.

She’s a sucker for poetry, classical music and impressionism. I love lame country songs – they have the most heartfelt lyrics – and can’t resist a good old rock anthem. I’m the girl who will attend a Chopin concert and then switch the ballet flats for Dr.Martens to go see New Order.

I’m a heel girl, with all the blisters and cuts they entail. But I am also a big Vans fan.

I’m a silver-lining person, with permanent negative intrusive thoughts.

I forgive people, but I do not forget.

I´m a firm believer in “Everyone is fighting a battle you know nothing about” so you’ll never hear me say: “Give him the cold shoulder”.

I’m all of these, but I am a lot of others.

I am many things, but mostly, I’m myself which makes it impossible for me to describe the person who is now your mom, I just realized.

I guess all I can do is hope she’s one of those who keep their promises.

Love,

Mom, August 8th 2023