#my 19th birthday i told all my new college friends that my last birthday was awful

[catboyloghain]

on my 18th birthday, one of my family friends had a heart attack, and while my stepdad was visiting him at the hospital, someone broke a window at our house and robbed us. set the bar low for adulthood so everything has been mostly improvement for me 👍

[definitelynotnia]

im sorry i have to rant im so fucking pissed

my exams end on 19th and I have to get rid of some books and buy some books which are quite pricy online so I had planned on going to college street on 20th and selling my books and buying the new ones at a cheap price and i was frankly really excited about it because all I get is a one day break to relax bcz i have to start studying for entrances from 21st so all I have is 20th and i wanted to spend it at college street and then get some food and basically have like a solo date kind of thing.

and i was so so excited about it i told my boyfriend about it like 500 times bcz i kept forgetting i've already mentioned it and it was literally on my mind a lott so i kept bringing it up and ik it seems like not a big deal cz i can just sit at home and chill too but i literally do not get to go outside my house. like- the last time i went out was new years eve and after that the only time i've gone out is to school or to give my boards that is it. my mother has some weird like problem wiht me going out like even if i tell her that i just want to go to our terrace for 5 minutes just to get some fresh air she won't even allow that she'll be all suspicious and like sTaNd In ThE bAlCOnY aNd TaKe FrEsH aIr like she herself doesnt leave the house (and blames it on me and my brother ???? when have we ever stopped you bro, she said I HaVe To Be HeRe To KeEp An EyE like im 18 i dont need to be watched 24/7 stop blaming me for choices you put upon yourself) and i just feel so suffocated ALL THE TIME i feel so overstimulated and im so sick of rotting on my bed and i dont want to wait for some birthday party or friends meet up to be able to leave my goddamn house i just wanted to go and have a fun day and get me some books thats it.

anyway so initially the plan was that my mom would go along but something came up so she wanted to postpone it to 21st and i didn't want to bcz i'd already be missing 3 days bcz of my boyfriends birthday, holi and my brothers birthday (all of which are important and i dont want to miss which makes me the villain apparently bcz i should "adjust" and cancel my "parties" instead of trying to stick to my plan bcz that makes me too demanding and selfish apparently) so i suggested that ukw why dont u go do ur thing which came up and i'll go to college street by myself...which is when the solo date idea came which i had really wanted all along but didnt bring up bcz i knew she'd say no but now there's a valid reason for me to go alone so like, its a pretty easy fix i can just go alone but noooo. First of all,

I've been to college street multiple times before so its not like its an unknown area to me

im going by metro which is quite safe

im going when there is stark daylight and i will return home much much before it gets dark and im literally 18

she never lets me go anywhere alone, not even take ubers alone if i want to get back from somewhere my bf has to come drop me everytime and then go backwards to his house which is so so so stupid and i never get to go out alone unless accompanied by family or by a male friend, so obv when i said i'll go to college street alone she refused to let that happen and started screaming about how 'if its so important to go on 20th bcz u dont want to miss a day of studying then cancel ur 'parties' and study then' and i was like no its not about missing a day its just that there's a very easy and logical fix to this problem which is i go alone and its not inconveniencing anyone so why cant i just do that but she will not listen to that bcz im 'adamant' and 'everything has to be according to me' bcz i found a viable solution to the problem. so instead of letting me just go she was literally ready to pay much more money and buy the books online, like.....why cant i just go bro??? (and she keeps telling me im a waste of her money bcz i will amount to nothing in life and my education was a failed investment or wtv so like now why are u wasting more money??? im literally trying to save the money that u 'waste' on me so just let me ???)

anyway i called my dad last night and told him and he was super ok with the idea he said its a good idea that i go alone and that he would speak to her but then today when i asked her if dad spoke to her she said yes, we'll go on 20th and i was like .....we? so apparently she CANCELLED her previously immovable thing for which she wanted me to cancel my 'parties', she cancelled that and agreed to go with me on 20th just so that i dont get to go alone- like ???????????????? what is ur problemmmm

so obv i was super annoyed and i went on a whole ass rant about how i literally struggle to even cross roads bcz i dont know shit about basic travelling bcz all my life ive been in a car and its a running joke with all my guy friends that i 'cannot navigate' and 'dont know any places' and obv??? if im never allowed to go anywhere then how tf will i know the places- the only places i know is bcz recently i've been paying a lot of attention and asking my dad stuff about what roads to take to reach certain places and when i go out with my friends i kind of try and learn a bit but thats it i've only ever gone alone completely alone to two places which is my beauty parlour thats 5 minutes away from my house and one bazaar one time that was 2 bus stops away, thats it. thats my extent of public travelling alone. and now im supposed to go to a whole new STATE for college and i cant even call myself an auto without struggling. and like- is this not a basic life skill??? like ok yeah its not rocket science and i will probably figure it out even if i start later in life but why not now? most of my guy friends literally go everywhere alone, why not me? and my dad agreed with all of this but my mom was just like "you'll be in the hostel only, no need to go out of the campus" like ARE YOU FOR REAL????????? and she's like "if u want to learn skills learn how to cook" like ok yes i will also learn how to cook for sure but i wont have a fucking kitchen in the hostel but somehow cooking is an urgent skill i should learn but going places by myself is unimportant bcz i should just never? leave? the? hostel?

anyway after much screaming and shouting my dad gave up and just cut the call bcz he doesnt want to get into an argument with my mother and my mother was being all suspicious like why do u hAvE tO gO aLoNe AlL oF a SuDdEn even though i literally explained why i want to do this alone but she doesnt think thats valid. so she refuses to let me go and i asked her for one reason why i shouldnt cz usuallt its always "no u have exam what if smthn happens" but now i literally dont even have exam so whats ur excuse now? streets will always be unsafe forever so "what if smthn happens" is not a reason to never let me go out without a man so just gimme one reason and she couldnt give me a single reason she just said "i said no, thats it".

and now she's gone off about how im useless and blah blah and "high maintainance" bcz i want books and "everyone else (some pishi's son) just studies online" and so the whole option of college street is apparently now cancelled and she's trying to set up a whole ass kindle account (half the books i need arent even available as ebooks) just because i wanted to go by myself.

[highschool-rooftop]

oct. 27th, 2020

man its weird to think this blog is 2 years old isnt it? like when I started this i thought that i was anyday from just killing myself, i had no hope, no job, and was about to love my living situation but thanks to a few nice friends and accepting people, i was able to land a job at *generic sounding name for local seafood joint* and then after that place stressing me to the point of panic attacks and taking it out on the wait staff... then i ended things nice with that place despite how much i hated it and i apologized to the wait staff alot.. probably too much...

now ive worked at *big store chain* a year now and i hate it just as much as i hated *generic sounding name for local seafood joint* for a similar reason too!! i fucking despite the people that run the places i work because i know i could probably do their job 30× better, i just choose not to because thats also 30× more responsibility on my shoulders and ive already got broken legs from the shit i feel like im dealing with outside of work.

the more i focus for a minute the more i feel like my life is in shambles and that im barely functioning right anymore. ive been horribly depressed again as of the past couple months and my family i live with barely talk to me because im always in my room which is like totally fair, but if im not sleeping up there im using whatever energy is left from work to hang out with my friends because theyre actually engaged in the topics i talk about, they show interest and actually talk to me not at me. my aunt and uncle and i have few interests in common so its incredibly difficult for me to keep a conversation going for long with them. theyre always playing card games or board games but im not interested in them, theyre not really that fun for me. my uncle plays xbox but hes typically on COD which i dont enjoy because of how toxic those communities are, hes got minecraft but the last time he played he never told me he was getting on at all otherwise i would've joined! then theres me and my cousin who are currently on nearly completely different schedules and really only see each other when hes taking me to and from work which makes it hard to hang out and play games, and thats of hes even willing to play any of the games im comfortable with and not trying another Survival-Crafting-RPG-Game of the week or something like factorio which is hyper complicated and i dont have the time to dedicate to learning how to play correctly so i just end up being a resource collector and its kinda boring..

and all of thats just the at home situation. my friends at least hear from me more but since alot of them have moved out of town for college at this point i haven't hung out with a friend outside of work irl in like 5, maybe 6 months... and i dont interact with many people at work. im really really lonely.

small bit of good news i feel i should add here in case i dont come back again for a few months is that ive scheduled an appointment to see someone abt getting hrt, itll be Jan 19th! ill also be seeing a few of my online friends in December too!! i hope i can stay alive at least until then. sometimes i feel like im in the same situation i was in when i started this blog but those two things are the two things giving me the hope to keep pushing on i guess.

oh and my old friends birthday will be this weekend, i probably shouldve just forgotten them by now like they probably have me but in the off chance that they ever find this stupid blog: happy birthday BXXXXX, hope you have been in good health and that you are happy ! please be well and enjoy Freddy VS Jason and the Scary Godmother, and the live action Scooby Doo movies again this year !

with that i think thats all ive had to say. im neglecting mentioning new speaker of the house, Mike Johnson, and all the terrible horrible things i want to say abt him and how im worried it will fuck with my healthcare before i even recieve it due to the fact that im typing this up outside, its cold out, my phones almost dead, im tired, and i still have a bit of this bowl of the married iguanas to finish up with before unwinding and going to bed to repeat this living nightmare of a life all over again tomorrow. maybe ill watch adventure time before bed ..?

[creatingnikki]

What 2020 has taught me

1. Those things that seem like content for sci fi or pure fiction are actually things that can happen. To the entire world. Like a pandemic. And to you. Like a seizure.

2. Everyone is sad. Everyone is struggling. In different ways and in different measures. Makes no one special. But you still get to feel sad for yourself and be compassionate towards others. But it's also okay to draw boundaries because you're everyone too. Remember, not special? You're sad and trying to deal with it too.

3. Every job you have will not add value to your life. It will not teach you new things or give you people you'll want to stay in touch with. Sometimes some jobs will only be a season of your life. Even if the season lasts for over a year. It's okay.

4. You know how you thought picking a college and picking a major and picking your first job and picking a specific industry were all the career decisions you had to make? Yeah, no. It's never a one time thing. You could have a job as a marketing strategist for two years and then want nothing to do with it. And then you'll have to make another decision and work towards it. So I'd like to call it moves. It's like chess. You always have to make a move. And it always has to be strategic, yes. But the truth is in your 20s it probably won't. Even if you try. And as long as you're trying, you'll be fine.

5. You may have different sorts of friends like the one you only talk to about kdrama with or the one you met when you went book shopping alone and the friendship is all about books really. That's normal. But irrespective of why and how you became friends with them, if you consider them a friend then there has to be this basic sense of care, respect and empathy for each other. I don't care what people want to say. If you're faced with the worst trauma of your life, the least your friends can do is check up on you regularly. On text. And if they don't even do that then guess what? They aren't friends. They are acquaintances. Social media and quick promises make everyone seem like your friend. But they are not. They are just nice people who will be nice to you for specific periods and then wander away like you are a speck of dust floating in their journey.

6. You speak a lot and write and you express yourself and you’re emotionally mature but oh my god. You still hold in so much. You’ve known that at a subconscious level and over the last year people - experts - have told you that. You have also realized that you make your pain and sadness about pettier things because dealing with them, admitting about them, sharing that with your friends, is easier. You do that so that you don’t have to deal with the real stuff. Because it’s so damn painful. And you don’t know how to do it. Yet. Acknowledging is the first step anyway right? I know you’re confused about how exactly to let go of all this pain and sadness and feel lighter, and you know that talking to people really isn’t the solution, but I also know you’re smart enough to figure it out. 

7. Talking about being smart...you know you’re different than others. Better. Special. Smarter. None of these are the right words. And you never voiced this out until this year because you knew it would make you come across as narcissistic. Some would say it’s because you’re an INFJ. But my mother once said that this may be the first time we are consciously living life but our souls are old and so our instinct and the things we know but can’t explain are because this isn’t the first time for our souls. The connections we feel with certain people, the reason we are so different from our siblings who grew up in the exact same environment with the exact same opportunities, our sense of right and wrong...it’s all because our souls learn and grow with each time and that’s why we are who we are. I think that’s probably how I can explain what I have always felt. That I am living in a different universe than everybody but I have to pretend to be in this one and dumb my emotions and thoughts down. Maybe that’s because my soul has lived through thousands of years while most around me are living their 100th life. Or maybe I’m just narcissistic, who knows?

8. You shift between talking in first person and second person but that’s because that’s how you think in your head and talk to yourself and live your life. You ask yourself things and you accuse yourself of things and you apologize to yourself and you comfort yourself. I think that seeps into your writing and the changing of the voices. 

9. You always genuinely thought that you’d not be afraid of dying. And then what happened this October proved you shockingly wrong. I know it’s not so much being afraid of dying but the unbearable pain of knowing what that would mean to your family. So you have to be more prudent and less reckless with your life and the choices you make. 

10. Regret is not something that plagued you but this year the realisation and pain of giving away your favourite books from your own personal collection to people you care about as a show of affection and them turning out to be ass holes or losers has hit you so hard. So, yes. No more of that shit. I really fucking want my copy of The Perks Of Being A Wallflower back. UGH. With the childhood picture of me inside it! 

11. Sleeping at 5 am in the morning stops being fun or romanticised when you realise just how much harm it does to your body and mind. Literally every single disease and disorder can be traced back to a shitty fucking sleep schedule. It’s not just the hours you sleep but also the quality of sleep and the time you sleep at. So yes sleeping for 8 hours is healthy but not if that 8 hours is from 5 am to 12 pm. ‘Not a morning person’ is just another construct of capitalism and you don’t realise how many industries profit from having you believe that and staying up late or all night. Entertainment. Food. Alcohol. Pharma. Biologically and naturally you are a bloody morning person. And you don’t need 3 cups of coffee to begin your day or your phone notifications to get you to open your eyes and brain to wake up. 

12. Sometimes you really have to stop taking people so seriously. I know the idea of treating people as casual friends or entertainment makes you want to fight that concept but you know what? Some people like Pineapple are ever only going to be good for that. No matter how much they ‘grow and change’. So keep them in the background for whenever you want some entertainment or drama. But please don’t clear up your busy schedule to meet them or send them gifts on their birthday. 

13. If you don’t have the fruit juice or green juice within half an hour of making it then you are losing out on its most optimum health benefits. Or when you remove the white stringy stuff from oranges. That’s where all the actual nutrients are.

14. I am privileged and so are most of the people I interact with. The global pandemic has been hell for a lot of people around the world. Health wise. Financially. Losing people they care about. But I was blessed enough to be safe at home and have a job that I could smoothly do from home and not have a pay cut or 4-hour long Zoom meetings. So honestly when my friends tell me 2020 has been bad I have to stop and ask them why? Yes, the crippling uncertainty and anxiety is not something that can be undermined. But most people I know had very great positive life-changing milestones this year like moving away to another country for college or taking their first solo trip or getting married. So I have to ask them. Because I am not going to agree that everybody’s 2020 and pandemic narrative is the same. 

15. Money gets spent really quickly. When I left my job earlier this year because of personal issues, I thought I had enough savings to last me a year. Full disclosure - I mean to last my personal expenses because I live with my parents. But it didn’t even last me 3 months. And so to use money wisely and buy things that provide utility than instant gratification is something to follow. Also buying one pair of really expensive but quality shoes is better than buying 5 pairs of affordable but low quality shoes that will have a very short life and force you to buy more. I know that higher price doesn’t always mean better quality but sometimes it does. And as an adult now I want to do the whole quality > quantity thing even with things and not just people. 

16. Everyone in their 20s went through a crisis of what they should do with their lives and their careers and it’s not unique to the 21st century and the challenges of today. Whether it was Vincent Van Gogh in the 19th century or Sylvia Plath in the 20th, every single person, as brilliant as them went through the torture of making these decisions and living with their consequences. You may think I picked wrong examples for they both killed themselves but you know what? They were the people who really want to live more than anyone. They knew what life meant. And maybe if mental health help was more accessible back then their lives would be longer and more peaceful. 

17. Telling people everything is overrated. You don’t have to talk about every single thing that’s on your mind or that’s going on in your life. The good and the bad and the mediocre. You have to be mindful about how much of yourself you’re giving away. 

18. Re-watch Suits when people at work feel intimidating because the confidence + negotiation tactics that they show can actually work irl cos at the end of the day no matter in what position you’re dealing with people who have emotions and fears and insecurities and desires. You understand how to leverage that nobody can get the better of you. 

19. You belong to yourself. No matter how much you love someone or how much they have done for you or how much you owe them - you belong to yourself. You can’t live your life for someone else. Everyone belongs to themselves first. No relationship, no promise, no circumstance should make you feel like you have to give up your life and make it all about them. If and when the time comes to die for them, go ahead. Take a bullet. Donate that kidney. Write them in your will. But live your life for yourself. And let them live theirs. 

20. Twenty three was a challenging year. When it started you claimed the age 23 sounds boring and insignificant. Guess it proved you wrong. It hurt so much now. But that only means you’ll look back on it later and see how it added so much wisdom and resilience to your being. It doesn’t mean that it makes all the bad things that happened to you okay. Or that you should be grateful to them. Fuck no. It means that you should be kinder to yourself because at the end of the day, your mind and body find it in themselves to deal with whatever is thrown their way. They have your back. It’s time you learn to sit straight. 

[dulafer]

REHAB

Another old one where I only posted links to another site. Twin brothers, one with great career and drinking problem. The other fills in for him. It’s long, detailed etc....

The Favor

I haven’t seen my brother Marcus in years but he needs a favor, so of course he called. He didn’t provide any details,  just that he needs a ride to Cleveland, Ohio and for me to watch his car for a few weeks. Marcus is my identical twin, down to a tribal band tattoo we got on spring break in college. Even our initials are identical thanks to our mother’s naming us ‘Michael Robert Thomas’ and ‘Marcus Robert Thomas’. Growing up, our parents could never tell us apart and many times we’d trade places even through college. 

We both graduated from University of Michigan with a degree in marketing but I took a minor in finance. After graduating, he craved the big city, high pay lure of Chicago while I stayed in Ann Arbor working for a trendy web marketing company. We haven’t been close since graduating from college.

Personality wise, let’s just say Marcus is the charming, outgoing twin and I’m more of a wall flower. In high school and college he was always getting the girl, or guy and sharing with me. He’d do all the work and I was happy with sloppy seconds. Many times we dated the same person without them knowing—that’s how identical we are. Nowadays, we talk occasionally and on our birthday. He’s got his life, I’ve got mine, and I keep up with his via his very active Instagram and Twitter accounts. I’ve got enough ‘marketing’ in my life so I’m more of an online stalker, never posting anything.

According to his Instagram, he just got promoted vice president at Coleman Marketing—a very prestigious firm in downtown Chicago. Someone tagged him in videos from last night celebrating his promotion. He’s raking in the money while I just got laid off. Not that I’m worried as I got a nice severance package and have a few leads on jobs. I was head of a marketing department for an automotive trim manufacturer. Truthfully, I was the marketing department completely.

Marcus pulls up to my house just after 7 am looking exhausted getting out of his BMW. It looks like he’s dressed in what he had on last night. He's wearing a great black leather jacket. His hair is gelled and spiky, and he’s clean shaven. I’ve let myself go lately, not shaving in days and no haircut in weeks. I’ll worry about a haircut and shave when I get a job interview. I greet him on the stoop.

“Marcus, when the hell did you leave Chicago? I was expecting you at lunch. Since when do you get up before noon?” I mock him.

“I was on a high, celebrating my promotion and couldn’t get Chad, my boyfriend, to come home with me. So I didn't sleep, packed up my things, jumped in the car and drove right here. Got coffee?”

“Sure, plenty, help yourself. You look beat bro.”

“You look like a bum bro, what’s with the scruff and hair?”  He angrily fires back.

“Using up some vacation time here, getting things done around the house. Love the BMW bro, awesome machine.” I cover for my job loss and change topic.

Marcus walks in, heads straight to the Keurig and makes himself at home. “I just drove 4 hours straight without stopping. You’re driving the rest of the way.”

“Nice, I love BMWs. So what in the hell is in Cleveland, Ohio?  Nothing that I know of.”

“I’ve been court ordered to check into St. Joseph Rehab Center.”

“Jesus, what the fuck did you do?” I act shocked but I’m not. 

“I had an accident, totaled my car and someone else’s, there was alcohol and drugs involved and it’s my fourth offense.”

“Is everyone okay? Are you okay? You look fine?”

“Yeah, other car was parked and empty, My Land Rover crumpled like paper but it really protected me.”

“Wow, you were lucky bro. I always told you—“

“Shut up, I know, I know…. So I go into rehab for a few weeks, get the doc to sign off that I’m fine and no one is the wiser.” He grabs his head like its pounding.

“A few weeks?  Tammy went to rehab for six months!”

“She didn’t have my lawyer.” He boasts.

“So I drop you off, pick you up?”

“That’s it. Keep it quiet, call into work for me Monday, take a few weeks off due to the death of our father.”

“Our father who died seven years ago?”

“Exactly, be all broken up about it. Shed some verbal tears. I have your script written, who to talk to, what to tell them.”

“Why don’t you call them yourself?”

“Once I check in, there’s no phones, computers or visitors allowed.”

“Jeez, sounds like a prison but you’re dressed like you going to a club bro, love the jacket.”

“Yeah, I’m a little over dressed. I came straight from the bar. They said to just bring sneakers, jeans, sweatpants, hoodies and t-shirts. The jacket is Coach, got it a few weeks ago shopping with my boyfriend Chad on the Mag Mile.”

I feel his jacket. “Can I borrow your jacket while you’re locked up.”

“Well, you are driving the rest of the way.” He takes it off, hands it to me and I pull it on over my t-shirt.

“Looks better on me bro.” He snickers at me. “It’s not meant to pair with a t-shirt. Mind if I take a quick shower? I was out all night with friends, haven’t showered yet.”

“Sure go ahead.”

He takes his coffee into my bedroom. The shower turns on while I find the keys for the BMW in his jacket I’m still wearing. I head outside and unlock the sleek black metallic M8 with a stunning red interior. Behind the driver’s seat is his briefcase and in the trunk is a large suitcase. I jump in, hit the start button and she roars to life with a powerful purr. It’s a remarkable car and I can’t wait to drive it.

Back inside I snap a pic of myself and finish up my coffee. Marcus steps out of bedroom, refreshed, wearing a pair of my jeans, a University of Michigan t-shirt and my new Nikes.

“Hope you don’t mind bro. I’ve been in the same clothes since happy hour last night, needed a change.”

“Not a problem, I’ll have my manservant launder and press your clothes.”

“I was sorta overdressed for this place.”

“You think? Now you look like someone with the drinking problem.” I laugh.

“I look like you doofus!” He heads to kitchen and has another cup of coffee. 

I grab my hoodie and toss it to him to wear. “I love this jacket bro, you can wear this. Since you won’t be needing anything this nice in rehab, I’ll just borrow it for a while.” I order him.

“Bro, it’s a $1100 jacket. You're not keeping it.”

“Fuck bro, no wonder it feels so soft.” I feel it more. “What you’re wearing now is more appropriate for the Betty Ford Clinic, or wherever the fuck you’re going.”

While he’s rummaging through my kitchen for something to eat, I head back to my bedroom.  His outfit is tossed on my chair. I quickly strip out of my sweats pants and dress in his clothes. He’s wearing my best sneakers and favorite t-shirt, I want to try out his look on me. I slip into his Polo Chinos, tuck in his dress shirt, fasten the belt, step into his driving shoes, then check myself out in the mirror. I try fixing my hair like Marcus’ but it’s too long.

I walk out to the kitchen, feeling my new pants, his eyes pop out seeing me. “Damn bro, I’ve never worn pants this soft.”

“Polo, all I wear, got them at their flagship store—“

“On the Mile.” I interrupt him, already knowing the answer. “Cole Haan driving shoes? Really? A bit pretentious if you ask me.”

“They match the jacket and belt man plus they’re so comfortable. You’ve been living in bumfuck Michigan too long, shopping at Walmart. You need to get a sense of fashion. You look presentable now though.” He snidely responds.

“What are you talking about ‘Michael’, I have a great fashion sense, just look at me.” I smile, assuming his identity then confidently pull back on his jacket and hand him my baseball caps. 

“Don’t get too comfortable in them, I’ll be back in a few weeks.” Marcus warns me while putting my baseball cap on backwards.

“We’re still identical after 29 years bro.” I look in the mirror seeing a scruffy Marcus staring back, my brother comes up behind to compare.

“You just need a decent haircut, some hair creme and shave. Hey, since you’re the scruffy one, you should do rehab for me.” He jokes.

“In your dreams bro. I’m not the one with the drinking problem.” I shoot him down.

“Whatever ass wipe, you probably can't get a decent drink within 30 miles of here. It’s no wonder you don’t drink. I can take an elevator from my office on the 19th, up to the 95th floor, to the best bar in all of Chicago.” Marcus brags, thinking I’m impressed.

“Oh I drink but not to the point of not getting home, almost killing myself and getting a DUI. You’re the pathetic one.” 

“Whatever bro, just remember—dad’s death, then vacation time to get his affairs in order. I have plenty of time to do this without anyone finding out.”

“So call into work for you, lie to them, drive your car around and pick you up in two weeks. Easy.”

“That’s it, by the way, you’re driving since I’m not legally able to. Keys are in my jacket” I pull them out and toss them in the air.

“Great! Just great. Guess I should be grateful I’m not bailing you out of jail.”

Road Trip

We leave Ann Arbor and he talks the entire trip about his accident, how he was drunk and high, driving home from Chad’s place, paying an expensive lawyer, promotion at work, buying this new BMW cash and how he’s going to change. I’ve heard this since college. He’s so self absorbed that I barely talk about myself and don’t mention my job loss or hunt.  I’m actually very jealous—his career is exploding even with his fuck ups and mine is imploding. I feel like a loser but driving this new BMW, in his expensive clothes, at least I look like a winner.

As is typical for Marcus, his coffee consumption has me pulling over at a rest stop on i80 not even an hour after leaving my house. I glance in the vanity mirror and start fussing with my hair, thinking of his comment. He’s right, we’re still identical—a haircut and shave would make us indistinguishable. I could have fun as him for a few weeks I think to myself and grin. His phone rings while I’m sitting in the car waiting, so I answer it.

“Hello?”

“Marcus, are you on your way? You’ve got to check in by noon today.” ID shows Stephen Backes.

“Yeah, I’m making good time, according to GPS, I’ll be there about 11am.”

“Please tell me you’re not driving.”

“No, a friend is driving me.”

“Okay, so I have some bad news for you. The judge didn’t agree to two weeks like I thought he would. You’ll be there three to four months, sorry man.” This has to be Marcus’ high price lawyer. “I’m so sorry. Are you there?”

“Fuck!!” Is all I could say while thinking of me needing a job.

“Believe me, we’ll get you out sooner, I won’t stop fighting for you. I’m pushing for a reduction already.”

“So what can  I do?” I’m stunned as Marcus will be.

“There’s nothing you can do. Check in today, do all they say and don’t make a scene. I’ll keep in contact via the staff there. I can’t visit and you can’t call out. Get yourself clean. On the bright side, the Alexanders aren’t pressing charges for the property damage, which is great news.”

“Silver lining.” I mutter.

“Okay, don’t worry, I'll get you out in no time.” He hangs up.

I sit there as a crazy thought forms in my mind—Marcus away for three months. I need something to do and who knows about his rehab stint? It’d be fun to step into his life for a while. We did it all the time growing up and in College. During summer break just before graduating from college, we traded places for a few months. He went to Daytona Beach with my boyfriend while I stayed home and partied as him. It worked out great because I was sick of Jonathan’s flaming personality. Marcus’s boyfriend was hot and he was bored with him. It was a great summer being my douche brother, fucking his boyfriend, partying with his friends and living his life. I didn’t want to swap back. Even our parents never figured it out, we were so identical. I stare in the vanity mirror and check myself out, turning my head from side to side, playing with my hair. I’m certain I can pull it off. Just then the car door opens up, Marcus jumps in and startles me.

“Lets get moving bro, I need to be there before lunch.” 

“We’ve got plenty of time. So who at work knows about your DUI and rehab visit?” I start to question him to make sure I can step into his life.

“No one, not even my best friend Jason or my boyfriend Chad know. I just got a huge promotion and Coleman was not happy with my last DUI. This one I managed to keep quiet but if I get caught, bye bye career. I called my lawyer right away and was out in hours. I told everyone I bought the BMW to celebrate my promotion, not because I totaled my Range Rover.”

“So you’ll just tell them you’re taking care of dad’s affairs, email them a few times over the next few weeks and no one knows.” I question him.

“Oh fuck, bro, never thought of it that way. I’ll be cut off from the world. You’ll have to check my email and answer my phone for me too, respond to some of them. Tell them you’re having a hard time with mom and she doesn’t have internet or good cell service in northern Michigan. Just adopt my bullshit attitude and tell em you’ll get back to them.”

The more he talks, the easier it’s getting to pull this deception off.  “Wow, you haven’t thought this through. Where is your computer? Log in? Phone?” Gathering pieces of his life if I want to go through with this game.

“I didn’t have much time, my lawyer called last night during happy hour, told me to get to Cleveland today. Work computer and files are in the briefcase right behind you. Password is first 4 letters of our last name and last 4 numbers of my social security, 1785. Got it?” He points to the iPhone charging on the center console.

“You better write that down.” I propose. He reaches behind me, grabs the portfolio from his briefcase and starts jotting down notes in it. 

“What if someone calls about something specific, like an account or proposal?” I fake concern for more details.

“They’re all on my desktop in folders. You’ll have to email the Ballis Automotive powerpoint to Gary McClintock on Monday so he can handle presentation for me.”

“You always do this Marcus. One little favor blows up into a cluster fuck, just like one little drink for you.”

“I promise this will be easy. I start the position Monday, there is a great marketing team to manage, it’ll run itself for a few weeks. They’ll feel bad contacting me during such tragic times.” He laughs at his deviousness. 

He continues to talk the rest of the way, filling me in on his career, telling me what I should be doing, and bragging about his success.  He’s quite in love with himself, talking about his recent bonus, how his $2,000,000 condo is now worth $2,500,000, and his $500,000 salary. I know I can do his job in a heartbeat based on our discussion.

When we get off the Cleveland exit I pull over for gas. He has to use the bathroom again but I put my hand out for his wallet. 

“Wallet, PIN number?” I ask.

“0394.” He gives it to me without hesitating but it’s the same PIN he’s been using since college. 

I fill the tank and jump back in, tucking his wallet in my back pocket where he keeps it. 

We make excellent time, getting there at 11:00 am. He grabs his suitcase from the trunk and we head in. The receptionist just stares at us.

“I’m Marcus Thomas, checking in.” He walks up to the receptionist. 

“Yes Mr. Thomas, we’re expecting you. Welcome to St. Joseph Clinic, please fill out these forms. We need to check your bags for any substances. Also we discourage any valuables as things tend to go missing or are used to bribe staff.” A bright energetic nurse greets us. 

He looks at me and shrugs his shoulders.

“Here, take these, put them in my car.” He removes his watch and ring, and I put them in my pocket.

“I have your wallet.” I pull it out of my pocket.

“You won’t need a penny here Mr. Thomas. In fact we keep your wallet and money locked up to discourage any sorts of bribes. I just need to verify your ID.” The nurse says.

I open his wallet and hand her his ID. She hands it back to me and Marcus waves it away for me to keep it. They have Marcus fill out some forms and he puts me down as emergency contact person. Security rummages through his bag, pulling everything out and even checking the lining. While he is signing things, I take out my phone and sneak pics of his hair, making sure to zoom in on all sides. 

“Okay Michael, thanks for the ride. Take care of my baby. Everything for Monday morning is in my briefcase. Cya soon.” A large male nurse grabs his luggage and escorts him to his room. 

Heading Home?

Walking out to the BMW, I reach in my pocket and feel my brother’s watch and ring, then feel his wallet in my back pocket. In the car, I flip down the vanity mirror and start playing with my hair again, then adjust it down to admire my outfit. It would be the ultimate deception to step into his life like I did in college—fucking Chad, doing his job, fooling his friends and spending his money. All his personal belongings are in my possession. Marcus even said so himself “You just need a decent haircut, some hair creme and shave.”

I grab his phone and the facial recognition opens it right up for ‘Marcus’. His entire life is in my fingertips. I scroll through his calendar, texts, email and social media. His schedule is full of meetings and appointments, including the Ballis Automotive presentation coming up on Friday.  Twitter and Facebook are filled with political rants and chats with friends. Instagram is full of pics of his recent work promotion celebrations. There are videos of him suited up, celebrating in a conference room yesterday, and more at some bar late last night wearing this exact outfit. No wonder he looked like crap this morning. I respond to some of the comments with various emojis as Marcus would, knowing his twisted sense of humor.

After 10 minutes of sitting in the parking lot, I start driving back—straight to Chicago. I haven’t been to his place in almost three years after he moved in and wanted to show it off. His GPS has his home address set for me. It’ll be fun to step into his life for a few months and assume his identity. He’ll be pissed but it’s an opportunity I can’t pass up. I’ll frame it as saving his career when he finds out months from now.

A few miles down the road I spot a ‘Great Clips’ hair salon in a strip mall and pull in without hesitating. They’re not busy and get me in right away. Using the pics from my phone, I ask for the same haircut. A young girl cuts my hair, shaves me, adds creme to my hair, and completely transforms me into Marcus. I stare in the mirror, grin then casually rake my hand through my hair per my brother’s habit. I feel my clean shaven face and the back of my neck. It’s perfect and I tip her heavily from my new wallet. I pull on my new Coach jacket and check myself out in the bathroom before leaving the salon. From my pockets, I pull out my brother’s ring and watch and put them on. I look exactly like Marcus did when he walked into my house earlier today. 

Back in ‘my’ BMW, I take my old wallet and phone, and lock them in the center console. I’ll use my driver’s license if I get pulled over. I slip on the sunglasses my brother wore then glance in the vanity mirror seeing Marcus Thomas, vice president at Coleman Marketing. “Marcus Thomas, nice to meet you.” I say to my new reflection.

I’m doing this—taking over Marcus’ life for a while. It’s payback for him fucking my boyfriends growing up, behind my back without me knowing. I grin in my mirror, then check my Tag watch. It’s 12:30 and my Nav system says I’ll be home in Chicago by 5:30 pm.

During the long ride home, ‘my’ buddy Jason calls—It’s show time.

“Hey buddy, where you at? I stopped by your place and you weren’t there? Thought after last night you’d still be passed out?” He harasses me.

“Sorry, didn’t I mention I had to go see my brother in Ann Arbor?”

“Hell, you never even mentioned you had a brother. Hopefully he’s better looking than you and can hold his liquor.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m definitely the better looking one but he controls his drinking better. We’re not that close but he’s having an engagement party tonight and wanted to see him.” I laugh and play Marcus perfectly.

“So I’m guessing no Sidetracks tonight or golf tomorrow?”

“No, sorry, won’t be home til tomorrow night.”

“Any word on your Merit membership?”

“Nothing yet.” Not sure what he’s talking about, will check into it.

“Okay, don’t forget next Saturday, for sure at Harborside.”

“Didn’t forget, its in my calendar.”

“I need to run here. See you at work bright and early Monday Mr. Vice President.” He chuckles and hangs up. 

That went extremely well. I’d love to go out tonight but I need time to learn about my new life. I open up my Facebook while driving, look up Jason and recognize him from my party pics last night. There’s pics of 'us' doing shots, looking wasted. He’s a good friend and didn’t suspect a thing. Five minutes later ‘my’ boyfriend Chad calls. I’m a little nervous but answer it, thinking to myself ‘you’re Marcus Thomas’. My new boyfriend has no reason to doubt my identity.

“Chad, how you doing?

“You sound good after last night.”

“Yeah, good sleep. How you feeling?”

“Great, just got back from picking up sister, then lunch at Brewser's, getting her settled in. You up for meeting her tonight?” 

“Oh, I’m in Ann Arbor, my brother has a surprise for me, having a little party.”

“You never mentioned a brother.”

“Yeah, we’re not that close. I’m betting he knocked up his girlfriend and is getting married.” I chuckle. 

“Oh great, that should be fun.  When you getting back?”

“Late tomorrow I’m thinking.”

“Oh, you’re gonna miss my sister.”

“I’m sorry, this came up a few hours ago with no warning, so here I am cruising to Michigan.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll survive driving the Bimmer, just don’t get a speeding ticket. I’m sorry about last night but I had too much to drink and wasn’t feeling good.” Chad chuckles.

“Don’t worry about it, it happens.”

“I’ll make it up to you Monday babe.” He promises.

“I’m holding you to it.”

“You better hold ‘it’ to me.” Getting suggestive and laughing at his joke. 

Chad goes on and on about his sister, her abusive husband and all the drama in her life. I give him my sympathetic ear while he does most of the talking. He doesn’t notice anything different about his boyfriend. I like the sound of his masculine voice which matches his rugged scruff image on my Instagram. I can’t wait to get him into bed but I need some ‘Marcus’ time to learn about my new life.

I drive the rest of the way back to his condo without pulling over. It’s a long ride but the BMW M8 is one sweet machine and makes it pass quickly. Marcus has great tastes in automobile. I’ve never driven a car like this. According to my brother, it has 600 hp and it feels like it. I’m cruising 80 mph but feel like I’m doing only 40 mph. I admire my new car, outfit, ring and watch as I’m flying ‘home’. 

Making Myself at Home

The hardest part was finding his assigned parking space after pulling into the garage. This causes me to drive around in circles. I stroll in carrying my brother’s briefcase and find the elevator. Finding my new condo is easy because of my visit a few years ago—Marcus bragged about being just below the Penthouse on the 78th floor. Tucked in my wallet is my access card that gets me into my new home.

I’m immediately in awe of ‘my’ place. It looks like something from ‘Architectural Digest’ magazine. The living room, kitchen and dining room have unobstructed corner view of Lake Michigan. The view is stunning, eliminating the need for any art or focal points in the living room. I take off my jacket, toss it on the sofa, grab a beer and make myself at home. There’s a dividing wall between the kitchen/dining room and the living room with a huge flat screen TV and see-thru open fireplace underneath it. All the furniture is clean, square and contemporary.  On the built-in wall unit are pics of mom and dad and other friends but only one of us taken at Halloween where we look nothing alike. A lot of his personal items, like artwork, pictures and music collection reflect both our lives and tastes. There are pics of me but anyone who’d see them would just assume it’s Marcus. 

The bedroom is large with a huge master bath and two connected closets full of my new wardrobe. The closets are his and her but he has them set up for work and casual. On the wall in between the two closets is a large built in jewelry chest containing a Rolex, a few Omegas and Tags, and an Apple Watch on a charging stand next to it. There’s also a nice selection of cufflinks, bracelets and other miscellaneous items. Underneath the shelf are drawers full of underwear, jocks and socks. On the wall behind the jewelry box is a safe that opens up after trying a few variations of his social security number. Inside is a gun, cash, passport and his birth certificate. 

In my new bedroom, the suit Marcus wore to work and celebrated in yesterday is laying on a leather chaise lounge with his untied shoes nearby on the floor. I pick up the suit coat and try it on—a perfect fit as would be expected. Everything he wore, that defined him yesterday is there to transform me into him. A devious thought crosses my mind—heading out to the 95th for a bite and getting familiar with my work place, in his work outfit from yesterday. I rush to the bathroom to freshen up and check out ‘my’ toiletries. A little bit of hair creme, brushing my teeth, a quick dab of deodorant, a spray of cologne and I’m the epitome of my brother.

Back in my bedroom, I quickly strip out of my brother’s bar clothes and start pulling on his black Tom Ford suit. His cuffed pants still have his belt in as I pull them on. His white dress shirt with monogramming have the cufflinks still in place. It’s tapered and hugs my body as I tuck it into my pants. His black cap toe shoes are still tied and broken in, for me to wiggle into. In the mirror I perfectly knot his silver textured tie as our father taught us when we were 14. Pulling on his suit coat completes my transformation and in the mirror staring back is Marcus as he was at work celebrating his promotion. 

It’s 8pm and I’m starving and decide to stop by ‘my office, then grab a bite at the 95th since my brother is a regular. ‘My’ office is on the 19th floor, so that’s my first stop since it is necessary for starting my new job on Monday. In the mirror I check my hair, and tuck my wallet, iPhone and keys in my pockets. 

At his office, finding his parking spot is just as tricky as at the condo, taking me 10 minutes to locate. My RF card operates the elevator, taking me to the 19th floor, where I easily find my office a few doors down from Robert Coleman’s corner office. The view isn’t nearly as spectacular as my condo but it’ll do for a work space. I spend an hour sitting at the desk, exploring drawers and files, and learning the layout so I’m up to speed first thing Monday morning. I didn’t think to bring my computer or I would have stayed longer. 

Learning my way around this building is complicated—figuring what elevator gets me where. I have to take the business elevator to a public lobby and take the express elevator up to the 95th.  The hostess recognizes ‘Mr. Thomas’ and asks if I’m meeting anyone. I just tell her I’m grabbing a drink at the bar and she leads me to the bar where ‘Tony’ also knows me and hands me a Gin and Tonic without asking. 

“Thanks Tony. Busy Night?”

“Not really. Jimmy said last night was insane. You hungry?”

“Yeah it was busy. I’m starving.”

“The usual?”

“Yeah, that’ll do.” I have no clue what I’m getting but I’ll eat anything.

I then head to the men’s room, taking my time to learn the layout as Marcus would know. Based on ‘my’ Instagram account, I’ll be spending many happy hours here in the coming months. There’s a steak tenderloin sandwich waiting at the bar for me when I get back. Tony rambles on and on about my brother and his friends, talking about Jason striking out with the redhead from J.P. Morgan last night he heard about from Jimmy. We’re quite the regulars here and I’m glad I stopped.

I get home after 11pm, exhausted from driving all day. Just like Marcus, I climb naked into his messy, unmade bed and pass right out. The first thing I do after waking up is jump in the shower, using his body wash, shampoo and conditioner. I don’t hesitate to use his electric toothbrush, deodorant or other personal items as my own. The final touch is using my brothers hair creme and styling it as he would. I grin and say to myself “Good morning Marcus.” 

Standing in ‘my’ bedroom, I go to the closets and slowly finger all of my new clothes. I pull open doors and drawers and familiarize myself with the contents. I pick up a sweater from the top of the closet and can smell the scent of the real Marcus Thomas. I start to think of my new identity and of the months ahead of living here and wearing all these clothes - ‘Marcus Thomas’ clothes. Silently I think, “you know what they say about clothes making the man!"

I walk around taking it all in, noting how it’s organized. From his drawers, I pull on a pair of his black Under Armour briefs. From the casual closet, I grab a pair of tan Polo chinos and a baby blue cashmere v-neck sweater I recognize from his instagram. His Cole Haas chukka boots and matching belt from yesterday go great with my Sunday outfit. A gold Omega watch and his black/titanium ring complete my very Marcus look. I’m the embodiment of my brother. Once dressed, I go through my work closet and explore.

His work suits are at one end, organized by color. I scan them, pull them apart to inspect and try on a few. They’re all very high-end Tom Ford, Brooks Brothers, Brioni or Hugo Boss and the fit is impeccable as to be expected. These are easily $5000 suits, compared to my $300 ‘Men’s Wearhouse’ specials. Next to his suits are dress shirts in all colors and styles, many of them custom with monogramming. His ties, belts, and shoes are concealed in the wall via very unique organizers that rolls out from the wall. These pull out organizers separate his outerwear like topcoats, trench coats from his dress shirts and suits. There’s one empty ‘Coach’ hanger that must be for my leather jacket that I wore yesterday. 

Back in my bedroom, I pick up my clothes from yesterday and toss in the hamper, except my old pair of Calvin Klein underwear—they end up buried deep in the kitchen garbage can. There can be nothing to reveal my real identity, no connection to my brother Michael.

The kitchen is contemporary with high-end cabinets and appliances—sleek stainless steel, beautiful teak wood cabinets  and marble countertops. Breakfast is K-cup coffee and a power bar. On the counter is a note from a Trudy, informing ‘me’ that she’ll begin thorough cleaning on Tuesday. So I have a housekeeper, of course I do. During breakfast, I familiarize myself with the kitchen, learning where things are, what’s in his fridge and cupboards. 

I take my breakfast to his office and his home computer wakes up with no password, showing me bookmarks for his banking, retirement and other accounts. His Wells Fargo checking account has $50,000 in it and his spending is very revealing. The account reveals a $15,000 check that paid for his lawyer, a $5000 check went for his DUI fine, another $40,000 check for St Joseph rehab. Keeping his DUI secret wasn’t cheap but it didn't dent his finances at all. There’s a $1012 charge from Coach Chicago, and in ‘my’ emails is the receipt dated a few weeks ago. His checking account reveals his dry cleaner, ‘lovely home’ cleaning service and all his spending habits.  I’m definitely going shopping today on the Magnificent Mile or ‘Mag Mile’ as we locals call it.

His $24,000/monthly deposits from Coleman provide a great lifestyle but there’s numerous deposits from ‘Cayman National Bank’ of $100,000 going back years. Something doesn’t look right—there’s a lot of money moving around.  A Fidelity account reveals diverse investments worth $3m. There’s also a J.P. Morgan account for his Palladium VISA that ‘I’ used to buy my new BMW weeks ago. I don’t have a thing to worry about financially as Marcus.

I open up his work laptop and easily log in as him. There’s a few new emails to review, then I spend hours reading through his old ones, getting up to speed with Ballis and other key customers. Thanks to his email history, it’s easy to respond to a few new emails as he would. On his desktop are all the files he mentioned, that’ll help me to learn his work issues. The Ballis presentation looks to be complete, ready for me to give on Friday but it looks boring. Some things seem odd or missing—I’ll have to look at that later.

My First Performance

It’s now lunch, I’m hungry and grab my new leather jacket to go out shopping. With my phone, wallet and keys in place, I head down to my car to start my first day. My first stop is the Burberry flagship store where I buy a tan classic trench coat that I didn’t find in my closet. I’ve always loved that classic look but they’re $2700—a little steep for my brother Michael but not me. Across the street is the Under Armour store that I shop at monthly and just have to check out. Half an hour later, I’m leaving with new underwear and some workout gear. I walk into the Coach store and I’m immediately accosted by the salesperson who sold ‘me’ the leather jacket I’m wearing. To make his day, I purchase a black hooded leather jacket that catches my eye for $1200. As I’m loading everything into my BMW, the phone rings and I don’t hesitate to answer it.

“Hey Liam.” I love caller ID. I’m able to answer like I’ve known him for years.

“Hey Marcus, what are you doing?”

“Was out shopping, looking to grab lunch now and need to work later.” Reminding myself that I need more time in the office before my first day on the job. 

“Where you at, I’ll join you.” He offers.

“On the Mile near Burberry.” I respond eagerly but think of the test of fooling ‘Liam’.

“Great, meet me at Capital Grill in 30 minutes.”

“Sounds like a plan.” My brother’s usual lingo, or it use to be.

Capital Grill is a few minutes away, giving me plenty of time to dig up information on Liam. Based on text messages and emails, he is gorgeous with short brown hair, an amazing six pack, blue eyes, stubble and is definitely a love interest. It looks like my brother and him were hot and heavy during the summer, with trips to Saugatuck and Holland Michigan on weekends. According to recent emails, he moved to Detroit for a big promotion with Bank of America. ‘My’ Instagram is full of beach parties, bonfires and drinking on a beach. My phone is even better with pics of him naked in my bedroom. Nice one bro!

I’m sure I’ll fool him easily. He shows up 30 minutes later with a big wet kiss for me. I’m instantly hard seeing him and from passionately kissing a hot stranger. During lunch he’s teasing my legs with his toes and reaching across with his hands, touching mine. 

“How’s Detroit treating you?” I start with what I know.

“I hate it! It’s dirty, the bars suck and no there’s no shopping like here.” He teases my legs constantly.

“It’s a big change I’m sure.” I can’t help but stare into his blue eyes.

“Are you seeing anyone?” He probes.

“Not really, a few dates, you? Been busy with work and my promotion.” 

“We need to celebrate that, I saw your Instagram posts and would have come home a few days earlier had I known.” He has his foot in my crotch, feeling my hard-on with his toes.

“We could celebrate privately now back at my place.” I smile and take his hand.

He grabs mine, pulls me up and we head back to ‘my’ place. Once inside, I press him against the wall, ram my tongue down his throat then drag him back to my bedroom and rip off his clothes. I push him on the bed.

“Fuck man, your horny Marcus.” He reaches into the drawer, easily finds a condom and pulls me into the bed. In seconds I’m on my back, the condom is slipped on and he’s straddling me, riding my throbbing cock. 

“Oh my god Liam.” I scream out in ecstasy and explode in him.

It was a great afternoon, especially when he screams out “Fuckkk Marcus” and I pump him full of cum. 

“Man, you’re incredible as always.” He cries out exhausted.

“It feels like it’s been years, I’ve missed you so much. You’re so hot.” I collapse back with my hands behind my head, totally thrilled with my performance as Marcus.

“You’re one horny fucker, it must have been a while for you. You seem different, more relaxed, laid back?” He shocks me, then giggles and I join in.

“That was months of missing you.” I kiss him deeply and get hard again. 

He takes my stiff throbbing member in his mouth without asking, getting me off again in seconds. Fuck, my brother really should keep this one—he’s hot, smart, funny and great in bed. Men like that are tough to find. We shower, scrubbing each other and making out. I’m grinning in the mirror, seeing Liam walking up behind me with a look in his eyes. He hasn’t notice anything different about ‘Marcus’.

“You look handsome as ever, babe,” he says, reaching his arm around and grabbing my stiff penis. “You sure you have to go to work?”

“Sorry but tomorrow is my first day as Vice President, I have a lot of prepping to do. When do you leave?” I turn around and kiss him gently.

“Wednesday morning, let’s do this again Tuesday night. I have a business dinner tomorrow.” He whispers in my ear.

“It’s a date.” 

He pulls off the towel from around my waist, wraps his arms around my neck and starts deeply kissing me. I brace myself against the counter and pull him tight cupping his ass in my hands. Minutes later, he dresses and says goodbye with a peck on the cheek. I grab my iPhone and duplicate a pic that’s in my camera of ‘me’ from a few weeks ago, with only a white towel around my waste. My build and six pack appears to be identical to my brother’s. I grin knowing my new identity is perfect. I’m dressing in front of the mirror, thinking of the best sex I’ve had in years. It’s incredible being Marcus with all the benefits—hot men, great wardrobe and incredible condo. It’s off to work here though. I need to be up to speed tomorrow. I need to know exactly what I’m doing.

No one is in the office on a Sunday afternoon and I have the whole place to myself to explore. My office is very impressive, very high-tech looking with a great view. There lots of plants, large conference table, hidden closet and great desk with two large monitors that automatically sync to my laptop when I open it. I’m there for hours logged into the system learning the layout, looking up files/people and my dashboard. By the end of the night, I’m responding to emails as Marcus would and planning my week. As I’m leaving, I glance my image in the window and smile as satisfaction sweeps over me. I’m ready for my first day as vice president.

Work Day One

I get to bed at 11 pm but I’m up after midnight studying the social media of fellow employees. I drift in and out of sleep all night long. The excitement of being Marcus Thomas has me up at 5 am planning my day—my 1st team meeting to review projects at 9 am, lunch with MedTech CMO and Ballis review at 3 pm.  

I crawl out of bed a little apprehensive about pulling off this charade. Then I remind myself how easily I passed for my brother with Liam, his coworker Jason and his lawyer. Since no one knows about Michael, there’s no reason for anyone to suspect I’m not Marcus. A long shower calms me down and using Marcus’s body wash gives me his base scent. All his personal hygiene items, including his Polo cologne which he’s been wearing since college are on his counter. I’m not a big fan of hair wax and creme but Marcus is. I put a dab in my hand, warm it up in my palms and work it through my hair. Running his comb through it, gives me his flawless style, identical to the photos in my phone. I use his electric toothbrush, spritz on some Polo, lift up my arm and make a few passes with his deodorant. My brother’s scent is now mine.

Marcus has alway been anal with his appearance and style—planning and laying everything out before dressing so I adopt the same habit. I’ve reviewed his Instagram and photos looking for some guidance on what he likes to wear. They’re a wealth of information on his tastes. His charcoal glen plaid Tom Ford suit catches my eye and looked great on him a few weeks ago. I pair it with a white french cuff, spread collar shirt, purple textured tie and white silk pocket square. The Tag is fine for weekends and casual days but knowing my pretentious brother, I’m certain Marcus would wear either the Omega or Rolex watch for work. I select his white gold Rolex and a pair of matching cufflinks. His black cap toe Allen Edmond shoes finish Marcus’ outfit for the day. 

In front of the closet mirror, I pull on his, no, my socks, underwear and t-shirt, then cuffed pants and custom shirt. His cufflinks and tie are next. His Allen Edmonds are luxurious and broken in for me. The way everything fits, it's clear we're still the same size. Finally I pull on the suit coat, add watch and ring, then tuck phone and wallet into my suit pockets. I’m watching my transformation in the mirror, pleased with every detail that confirms I’m Marcus Thomas, new vice president of marketing for Coleman. 

It’s hard to believe how completely different ‘my’ life is now–looking in the mirror, my reflection isn’t my own any more, I’m Marcus Thomas. I reach up and rake my hand through my thick hair. I love being Marcus—his style, his money and sex life so far are great. I straighten and adjust the knot of my tie with a smirk. “I’m Marcus Thomas,” I say to myself as my new reality is settling in.

I drive to work even though I could easily walk but there’s emails from HR about my new assigned parking space. Knowing Marcus, I’m certain he’d be driving everyday to show off the BMW M8, even with his DUI issue. This version of him will do the same but in case I’m pulled over, my original wallet is locked in the BMW console. I find my new parking spot, shut off the engine and mentally prepare myself. “I’m Marcus Thomas, vice president at Coleman” I repeat to myself many times.

I pull out my new coach wallet and work ID with RF chip, then I notice ‘my’ driver’s license. It’s the one detail I need to assume Marcus’ life in Illinois—his driver’s license. Marcus’ drivers license is suspended and if I use it for a traffic stop, I’ll be in jail. I can’t call his lawyer to fix it and they probably wouldn’t restore it until rehab is complete and he’s free. Then the perfect solution hits me—first, I’ll change my name in Michigan from Michael to Marcus then ‘move’ to Illinois using my new name and Marcus’ address. I’ll have a valid ‘Marcus Robert Thomas’ driver’s license that’s perfect with a clean driving record.

A quick check of myself in the vanity mirror reflects Marcus back at me, looking very sharp as usual. I get out and stroll in with my briefcase ready for my new position. People are greeting me, congratulating me and asking about my weekend. Everyone knows about my party Friday night at McGee’s. I need to thank my team member, Richard Zeppa for that tidbit of information I was lacking.

I hang up my new trench coat but leave on my suit, not sure what the dress code is for upper management. On Friday everyone was in a suit jacket during the office party for my promotion. At the coffee machine, the office gossip, politics and small talk comes easy. It teaches me a lot about the company, helping me fit in. Back in my office the day begins with email and prepping for my 9:30 am review with my team. Marcus was kind enough to do the prep work for me, outlining all the issues and his concerns. It’ll be like he’s actually there. Come to think of it, he is here and I’ve got to think of myself as my brother completely. 

Jason shows up at my office looking even better in person. He walks in, shuts the door and jumps into one of my chairs. Too bad he’s not gay or I’d be all over my new best friend. 

“Look at you Mr. Vice President, all professional looking and in early. New tie? You look rested and ready to go.” He notices.

“First impressions are important, especially with a new team to impress. Nah, I’ve had this tie, just wanted something that pops.” I notice he’s keeping his suit on. 

“How was your weekend, when did you get back?” He asks and I’m ready.

“It was good, I met my brother’s fiancee, drank too much, a lot of family was there and pressure is now on me to tie the knot. I got home about 10 pm and crashed. What did you do?” I explain.

“You tie the knot? You can barely tie your shoes.” He mocks and laughs at me. “Crashed all day Saturday, went out with Christine to some comedy club, sex and golf with Ted and Will yesterday.”

There’s a knock on my door and I recognize Adam Trappe, Coleman’s President. Jason jumps up from chair and welcomes ‘Adam’ into my office.

“Adam, Come on in, we’re just catching up.”

Adam comes right in, I stand up as a sign of respect. “Marcus, Ready for your first day?”

“Sure, anxious to tear into the job.” I smile as he has no clue this really is my ‘first’ day.

“Don’t forget lunch with Andy Kramer from Medtech. We need to tag team him on his spend.” Adam reminds me.`

“Adam, with the proposal I have planned, he’ll be begging to give us more money and buying us lunch. I promise.” Doing my best impersonation of my arrogant brother, having memorized his talking points for lunch today.

Adams smiles. “I’ll drive, just stop by my office about 11:30. Kristi made reservations at Gracy’s.”

Jason and Adam leave and I review ‘my’ notes for my first team meeting. Apparently, Marcus’s rehab stint was a last minute event because he has the next few weeks planned out and prepped for.  Everything is right at my fingertips to be him.

The whole day was easier than I expected. For the project reviews, it was new for all everyone so I followed my standard practice and raised Marcus’ concerns from his notes. Lunch was a huge success as Kramer loved my proposal and agreed to increase his marketing budget. Adam’s only complaint was him having to pick up lunch for us. I spend the rest of the day with my new team in and out of my office, and catching up with a flood of emails. Overall, It was an incredible day.

Jason stops by my office for happy hour and a few of us head up to the 95th. The view of the city from up there is amazing but I try to ignore it since it would be familiar to Marcus. Jimmy automatically hands me ‘my’ usual Gin & Tonic. We’re there for a few hours, drinking and having appetizers. Unlike my brother, I know when to stop which Jason notices.

“You’re different Marcus, something wrong? You’re not drinking.”

“Rough weekend thanks to Friday night and you, then driving to Ann Arbor. Then starting new position today.”

“So why aren’t you drinking?”

“Because of Friday night and you.” 

He laughs at me. “Did you invite your boyfriend? Chad just came in with ‘Alex’ and is heading this way.”

Shit, Marcus mentioned Chad and something about the accident. I open up my phone and run to the bathroom quick. “I’ll be right back, beer is kicking in.”

“What beer?” He gets cocky with his best friend. 

In the bathroom I quickly review text messages from him, trying to piece together their relationship. The early text messages are about partying and clubbing at some trendy spots. Later messages are about sex, going out for dinner and hanging out. I’ll just have to wing it, can’t hide in the stall all night. I splash cold water on my face, stare in the mirror and think to myself ‘you’re Marcus Thomas, just look at you’. After straightening my tie and running my hand through my hair, I head back to the bar. One thing is certain, he’s hot and if he wants to have sex, I’m in. Chad comes over to me with a big hug followed by a tender kiss. I’m hard in a minute like I was with Liam yesterday.

“I knew I’d find you here babe. I’m sorry about Friday night, I just had so much to do Saturday and Sunday with my sister in town.” He pouts.

“Don’t worry about it. I forgot about a family event in Ann Arbor I had to go to.” I lie.

Jason whispers in my ear. “Don’t want to say the marriage word do you?” Then chuckles.

“I’ve missed you.” Chad says while his friend Alex gives me really dirty looks. I’m not sure who he is, if they’re related, friends or what.

“I’ve missed you, can I get you a drink?” 

“A vodka cranberry would be great, Alex, do you want something?” He asks his friend.

“Vodka cranberry would do the trick.” He says queerly.  I get a very jealous vibe off him.

I head to the bar and pay with my new Amex then return. Alex is hanging up his phone, excited because his boyfriend got home early and is waiting for him. He guzzles his drink and runs, leaving Chad with me and my friends. 

I play Marcus’ friends convincingly and no one doubts my identity. I make sure to take lots of selfies with Jason and Chad and post them on my Instagram and Facebook, using clever hashtags and comments. Instead of my usual Ultra beer, I’m drinking Marcus’ gin & tonic and notice that Jason is a Yuengling drinker. In the mirror behind the bar, I glimpse Marcus and his best friend drinking and getting shit face.

I’ve known Marcus my entire life while Chad has known him only a few months. After a few drinks, he’s grabbing my ass and kissing me. I lean in and kiss him deeply back, loving the credibility he gives me as my brother, accepting me so easily, loving it when he calls me Marcus. I want to fuck him so badly. We hurry back to my place and I fuck him in my brother’s bed. As I make my way down his body, I slide his underwear off, then delicately lick his perfect penis. He’s been here before as he has no problem finding my condoms and slipping one on me. I slip into him slowly and push in deeply, making him moan louder and louder. When he calls out ‘Marcus’, I climax immediately and he follows a minute later. I spoon him to sleep with my hands wrapped around his waist. 

I wake up to my shower running and him running around the apartment.

“Don’t get up, it’s early and I have a shoot at 6am with Charlie Matthews. He’s gorgeous.” His voice full of excitement.

I grab my phone off the charger and quickly google Charlie Matthews. “Not as hot as what you had last night.”

“Hot and sexy. I had a great time, let’s do this Friday night and we can sleep in Saturday.”

“Let me text you on that, Friday is really busy and I have a golf outing with Jason really early Saturday. I blew him off last weekend, can’t do it again.” I explain.

“Let me know then.” He comes over to the bed and kisses me deeply. I keep my hand on the back of his head and try to keep him from leaving. 

I’ve been Marcus for two days and have had sex every day—more than I had in the past six months as Michael. His life is better than expected and I wouldn’t change a thing. I wonder who else I could fuck, or hook up with Liam again since he is still in town. Marcus has been living the good life for sure. I then remember seeing Grinder on my brother’s phone, grab it and start swiping for some possible action for tonight. 

Work Day Two

In the shower, I grab my semi-rigid penis, think of my new sex life, rub one out then follow my routine. I’m in love with Marcus’s life—the sex, job, friends, car, and condo. Stepping into his life it has been easier than I ever imagine. I’m really appreciating his closet, especially his suits. When we were growing up, he always had a more ‘put-together’ preppy look, paying attention to details. I was more grunge and laidback. It was the only way our parents could tell us apart. He’s taken his preppy look to the next level. He has a subscription to GQ and collection on his closet shelf going back years. I never knew he was such a metrosexual. 

His appearance is easy to duplicate with his complete wardrobe at my finger tips. Thanks to his Instagram, there are years of pics and videos of him during and after work at happy hours. There are pics of him in a light gray window pane suit that catches my eyes. It’s dated a few months ago and it looked great on him. It’s a Hugo Boss suit that I easily find in his closet. All the details except the shoes are easy to find and pull together. As Marcus does, I lay everything out on my bed to perfect.

My second day starts with Jason waiting for me in my office.

“Where were you bro?” He demands.

“What?” I have no clue what he’s referring to.

“Hello? The gym? Did you forget?”

“Oh fuck, I’m sorry man. I hooked up with Chad, was ‘busy’ all night and over slept.” Thinking quick because I had no clue about Marcus working out. I did notice a gym bag on the floor in the closet but didn’t think about it. 

“I didn’t see you leaving with him?” 

“Because you were busy with Cathy.” I give him one of Marcus’ devious smiles, like he ate the canary.

“All is forgiven oh great one.” He jokes, bows and twirls his hand as a sign of respect. 

The rest of my day is easy, getting into account and proposal details, working with my team. Jason is in and out of my office talking about anything and everything—I really like the guy and being his friend. We do lunch together at the Big Pig just across the street. According to my debit account, it’s at least a weekly occurrence if not more. Marcus eats anything so there’s no need to worry what I order. The only questionable choice was me getting a Coke instead of a beer. Jason commented and told him I drank too much again last night. It seemed to quiet him quickly. 

As we were finishing up, Liam called about getting together tonight and I don’t hesitate to say yes. I pick him up at his hotel, take him to Ghezzi’s for Italian. I ply him with wine while staying away from it. The wine doesn’t affect his ‘foot work’ in my crotch fortunately and I’m throbbing hard all through dinner. We skip desert and I he ends up with my penis as ‘desert’ and loves it. I’m now three for three with sex so far this week. Liam doesn’t stay so he can catch his early morning flight back to Detroit tomorrow. 

Work Day Three

Two days of work have gone fairly smooth. There’s been a few glitches, like Marcus’ gym habit or not knowing things off the top of my head, that have been out of character. There will be more missteps and I’ll just respond the best I can. 

To sort out the gym routine with Jason, I start with his gym bag where I find his gear but also his gym ID card and dry cleaning slip in the end pocket. He’s a member of John Hancock Center Fitness, and also uses the Hancock dry cleaner. On my calendar are blocked off areas for ‘gym’ on Tuesday and Thursday morning at 7 am. There are still a lot of blanks I need to fill out so I head to work early for a quick stop at the gym.

I’m greeted by ‘Gina’ the receptionist at the entrance. “Marcus, we missed you yesterday, Jason was looking for you too.”

“Yeah Gina, he tore into me in the office for it.” I laugh.

“What can I do for you?”

“I think I may have lost my ear buds here, did anyone turn a pair in?” I ask.

“Not that I know of but let me check.” She heads into the manager’s office while I head to the men’s locker room to find my locker.  There’s a number on my ID card that leads me to my locker and opens it right up for me. Marcus has his complete bathroom duplicated in here—Polo products, toothbrush and extra gear. There’s a clipboard showing a routine that he hasn’t used it in a year per the date but it does give me an outline of his habit. 

I grab my earbuds out of my pocket and head back to Gina.

“It looks like you’ve found them.” She notes happily.

“Yeah, left them in my locker like an idiot.” I laugh. “Hey was Jason in today?”

“No but then again, he never comes without you except on Sundays once in a while.”

“Oh you have his attendance history?”

“Sure, going back years to when you both joined.” She turns the monitor around for me to see. Right there is what I needed—Jason and I work out every Tuesday and Thursday like clockwork at 7 am, leave about 8:30 am, grab a coffee at the Starbucks per my spending alerts and head to work.

“Thanks for your help Gina, see you tomorrow.”

“No you won’t, remember Ron is on Thursday.” She corrects me.

“Oh yeah, it feels like Monday for some reason.” A plausible recover.

My gym routine is set for tomorrow morning with my best friend.

After a few days as Marcus, my life is already becoming routine. I’m using ‘I’ll get back to you’ a lot but I do get back to them after I research the issue. This helps with learning the job and customers. No one has questioned my identity but then why would they with my looks. 

Late in the day a young kid with a man bun knocks on my door and walks in. I have never seen him before.

“Mr. Thomas, hi, I’m Gavin from IT services. Are you having computer problems?” He asks.

“No, why?” I respond not thinking I have any issues. I’m in the system and seem to have full access.

“Well, we track logins and you haven’t been using your biometric scanner, just your PIN.”

Damn, I did see a fingerprint scanner on the desk and haven’t bother with it even though it blinks when I open up my MacBook. I tried it once then it turned red and rejected me. 

“It didn’t work on Sunday so I’ve just been using my PIN. Isn’t that okay?” I explain.

“The PIN should only be used when you’re traveling, working remotely. The fingerprint is much more secure, prevents hackers from gaining access. Mr. Coleman wants his senior staff more protected.” Gavin explains.

“Understood, I just wasn’t worried about it.”

“Shut down and reboot and try it.” He directs.

After it boots up, I try my fingerprint and it beeps red.

“Hmmm, your fingerprint file must be corrupt. We’ll rescan and reconfigure it for you. It happens now and then.” From his bag he pulls out his computer and hand size scanner. He hooks everything up and the scanner glows blue for him.

“Now just place your right hand on it and don’t move till it glows green.”

I’m nervous wondering if this will compare old and new, and alert him to the difference. He removes my hand, then types away at his laptop. 

“Okay, now reboot and try any finger.” He orders.

It boots up, I try my index finger and it approves. 

“All set Mr. Thomas. Next time it happens, call me right away. Also, we’ll be adding biometric scanners to all the executive offices and lobby entrance in a few weeks. You’re all set for that now.”

“Thanks Gavin, I appreciate the help.” Gavin doesn’t realize how much he’s helped me. I’ve been looking at that scanner all week, wondering how get my fingerprints recognized and afraid of asking for help because of fear I’d be discovered. I’m now Marcus Thomas with security.

I skip happy hour with my friends and head home to prep for tomorrow’s big presentation. On the way I stop at the cleaners and pick up a bundle of laundry, suits, ties and shirts. The elderly woman greets ‘Mr. Thomas’ and thanks me for my business. At home I review my dry cleaning as I hang up everything in my closet. There’s a sharp 3 piece charcoal suit that’s one of my favorites based on Instagram and will be my outfit for tomorrow. 

I work in my home office till 9 pm reviewing the Ballis files, meeting notes and account details. Marcus’ Ballis history spans almost 2 years. It’s obvious the quality of his work has vastly improved over those years. There’s a maturity to it now. I pull up the Ballis presentation and practice it for Friday’s meeting. The one difference between myself and Marcus is that I’m the better public speaker. There are a few videos of him giving presentations in his account files and we’re about equal now. 

TGIF

I’m awake very early, planning my outfit for today’s big presentation. I’ll be wearing one of my brother’s, I mean one of my favorite outfits—I’m all Tom Ford today.  I checked my shopping receipts and found that I purchased a ‘Tom Ford Windsor 3-piece peak lapel suit’ for $7200 a few months ago. That was just for the suit—add $300 for tie, $50 for a pocket square, $600 for a custom dress shirt, $2000 for a pair of English Tan leather shoes, $75 for black underwear, $145 for t-shirts and a stunning $4950 for ‘striped’ cufflinks for a total of $17,000.  They must love me at Tom Ford. It takes 30 minutes to find all these items in my closet. 

It’s amazing slipping into $75 boxer briefs that hug my ass. I never liked wearing t-shirts but Marcus always does so I pull on a brand new $145 Tom Ford t-shirt. For socks, I find a crazy colorful bright green pair with golf balls on them—for a pop of color. He showed these off on his Tiktok account which I’ve yet to use. I pull on the cuffed pants and add a belt, using the same hole as he has a few times. His custom shirt tapers to my waist. The striped cufflinks are a bit tricky but look like a million dollars. The tie decision is tough but I stick with the gold paisley Tom Ford he wore with this suit before. His tan dress shoes look great but are not yet broken in, but he left them tied so I just wiggle into them. I’ve never worn a 3-piece suit in my life but the vest adds an image of authority as it goes on. I remove the suit jacket and confidently pull it on, adjusting the cuffs and tie in the mirror. ‘My’ Rolex and ring complete my transformation into Marcus Robert Thomas. 

In the mirror is Marcus Thomas, vice president at Coleman Marketing, running his hand through his hair, checking every detail of his appearance. My new Burberry tops off my identity.

Friday cements my new identity. The Ballis presentation is flawless and after 5 hours, their marketing team awards Coleman a huge contract worth $5m. My biggest challenge was quickly learning the names of the key players since my brother had a number of meetings with them. Robert Coleman congratulated me at happy hour on the 95th. He pulls me aside and says. “keep doing this and you won’t be VP for long.” 

Jason, who wasn’t in the meeting, comes up to me and I have Mark take a pic. “Marcus, you’re the buzz of the entire office, even Adam is praising you.”

“Buddy, Ballis was just ripe for a new marketing direction and it all fell into place.”

“Well, it was your best work according to everyone in the room.” He adds.

“Robert quietly told me I wouldn’t be VP for long, so he’s either firing me or promoting me.” I smile while Jason jumps up and down hugging me. 

“You better not be stealing my boyfriend.” Chad shows up, puts his hand around my neck and pulls me in for deep kiss. 

“Babe, you’re late.” I note.

“Yeah, last minute phone call with California. I’ll make it up to you later.” He smiles.

Jason chimes in.”don’t keep him up all night, we’re playing Harborside bright and early.”

“I didn’t forget.” I assure him.

After Chad discretely reaches in my pocket and fondles my cock., we excuse ourselves, grab dinner and head back to my place. We fuck all night long, including in my shower, early the next morning. As soon as Chad leaves, Jason calls to make sure I’m up. 

He offers to pick me up and drive. I’m grateful since I’m clueless how to get to Harborside. Marcus’ golf clothes are in the casual part of my closet and his clubs are in one of my spare bedrooms along with his other toys. Marcus was always a better golfer than me and I haven’t played in years. Again, I use instagram to select a typical Marcus outfit—Under Armour shorts and shirt, Adidas cleats and his leggings since it’s chilly outside. He has a great set of Callaway clubs and bag but it doesn’t help. Jason points out that I suck more than usual but I blame it on not sleeping last night and not playing in weeks.

The best part of the day is Jason driving me back to his place to help him move some furniture. I now know where my best friend lives. We hang out for hours, watch some college football, and drink too much beer the rest of the afternoon. That night we hit up “Sides” and I get wasted for the first time in 7 years. My new friends are great and clueless they have a new friend.

Sunday is set aside as a ‘me’ day to celebrate my first incredible week living my brother’s life. I dress in my usual Polo Chino, a sweater and my favorite leather jacket. For breakfast I take the M8 north along Lake Michigan and find a little diner to eat then head back to the city to shop. Even though I mock the ‘Mag Mile’, there’s no better place to shop and that’s my plan. My net worth is north of $5 million now and I’m going to spend some of it. At the Polo store I’m recognized, kissed up to and end up spending $2500 for sport coat, pants and casual shirt. At the Rolex Boutique I spend $13,000 on Rolex Daytona, putting it on my Platinum VISA. The serious damage is done at Tom Ford where I spend $20,000 on a few new suits, suspenders, shoes and ties.  One is a double breasted, the other is a 3-piece suit and I haven’t seen anything like them in my closet. Everything I purchase reflects Marcus’ style and tastes, not Michael’s. 

Back home, it takes two trips to unload the car. Chad comes over for dinner and spends the night. He’s shocked to learn I can cook but I keep it simple with some steaks on the grill, potatoes and salad. He’s up early to go to work and I decline an invitation to join him so I can sleep in. I really enjoy spending time with him, especially the sex. 

The next week flies by like the first with long hours, working out and happy hours with Jason and friends. Robert has given me the AMP account to conquer next, bypassing Adam. My love life is insane. Chad fucked me in the bathroom on the 95th, Liam wants me to spend a weekend with him in Detroit. Merit approved my application for membership so Jason and I will be taking the AMP management team there for a round before the season end. 

I can’t believe how easy it’s been stepping into Marcus’ life and how much I’m enjoying it. His routine is now my routine—whether it’s working out, or happy hour or work. I’ve replaced him and no one has a clue. When someone says ‘Marcus’, I instinctively respond to ‘my’ name without hesitation. My fear now is losing it back to him and ending up back in Ann Arbor building websites and working for another little company.

Visit Number One

Marcus’ rehab clinic called, letting me know I can visit on Saturday and take him off campus for lunch. I confirm I’ll be there at noon and to let him know. On the way there, I stop by my house and change from his clothes into my typical Levis and t-shirt but keep the leather jacket on. I also wear my Michigan baseball cap to hide my new haircut. Marcus’ clothes are put in a duffle bag and hidden in the trunk to change back into later.

There are a lot of rules to agree to before Marcus is allowed out for the afternoon. He’s limited to a 10 mile area and no alcohol, drugs or cigarettes of any kind. A big male nurse brings him out to me and we jump in the BMW.

“You’re not getting out?” Is the first question I ask.

“Fuck no, I’m stuck here for 90 days at least according to my therapist. My fucking lawyer says it was a last minute change and that he even told me. I was so drunk the last time we talked, that I probably forgot the conversation.”

“Great, I was confused when the clinic called about lunch, figuring they meant taking you home. What about work? They’re expecting you on Monday.”

“I know, I know, I’ll lose everything I’ve worked for with Coleman. I was thinking we could swap places and you stay here but this ankle bracelet doesn’t come off.” He lifts his leg to show me.

“Jesus, you’re under house arrest bro. I could have, would have. I was laid off from my job a few days ago. We were bought out by Tyco months ago and when I refused to move to Philadelphia for them, they laid me off.” He’s not the only good liar in the family. 

“So what are you going to do?” Marcus asks.

“Well, I got a 9 months severance, even have some leads on jobs, so I’m in no hurry yet.”

“Bro, this is perfect! Go into work as me, cover for me.” I knew he’d come up with that on his own. Internally I’m smiling but outwardly, I look gravely concerned. 

“Oh come on bro, this isn’t college, this would be your life. This would be for months. How do I learn your job by Monday morning?”

“Michael, we’re both marketing majors, you have all my files on my laptop, all you have to do is clean yourself up, put on one of my suits and go in. It’ll be easy, like when we swapped for the summer in college.”

“You’re comparing this to college? We swapped boyfriends for a few months.”

“Yeah, it’ll be easy. I’m starting a new position with a new creative team that barely know me.”

“What about your coworkers, friends, neighbors and boyfriends? Your phone has been going crazy with people calling, offering condolences and wanting to send flowers. I spoke to Liam and Chad a few times, they’re worried about me, I mean you and our dad’s death. That lie traveled really far and fast.” I’m as good of a liar as Marcus.

“Oh, it was probably my buddy Jason, he’s as bad as a woman.” He chuckles.

“So Jason knows you really well, right? As soon as I fuck up, he’ll figure out I’m not you.”

“No, he has no clue I even have a brother, let alone a twin. He’ll have no reason to suspect you’re not me.”

“What about everyone else?”

“I’ll write down everything you need to know about my life. Pull into that Dollar Store and grab a tablet. Do you have my computer with you?”

“No, it’s in my living room along with your phone, wallet and jewelry.” I pull into the store and we grab all that’s needed. I throw everything at him and he starts writing feverishly while I look for a place to eat in this little town. We settle on a Sonny’s BBQ and get a table in the corner away from everyone. I keep my baseball cap on so Marcus doesn’t notice my haircut that actually looks better than his’. 

He’s quietly chatting and writing the entire time, only taking time to eat his BBQ ribs and drink some ice tea. He’s drawing floor plans, scribbling names with notes and paragraphs of information.

“Ok, here’s everything you need to know.” Marcus announces proudly and pushes papers towards me. “It’s in groups of work, friends and boyfriends.”

“Great, tell me about my new boyfriends, tricks or ‘friends with benefits’.” 

“Ha, Let’s start with the important people, those closest to me.”

“Do you have a little black book I can use?” I beg.

“Focus! Jason is my closest friend, followed by Mark. We do happy hours, work out, work together, golf, road trips, and watch football on weekends.” Marcus gets very serious.

“I need to have a little ‘fun’ bro.” I whine. 

“Here’s everything you need to be me with them.” He responds with attitude then passes me sheets labeled ‘Friends/Boyfriends’. He has their names listed, how they met, quirks, habits, hobbies, interests.  Then he hands me a ‘Coleman’ sheet.

“For work, Robert Coleman hired me, mentored me and I’m like the son he’s never had. He’s been easing out of the business, letting Adam Trappe assume more responsibility. I’m next in line for Adam’s President  position next.”

Marcus has detailed notes for all managers I’ve been interacting with for weeks. This gives me even more information that only the real Marcus would know. I use this to fire off more questions about my new life and the information just flows from him to me. 

“What about ‘my’ sex life bro? I need a boyfriend or boytoy. You have to have one based on texts and phone calls I’m trying to respond to. Oh, and the pics in your phone, fuckkkk.” I smile at him.

“No serious boyfriend so you’re safe. Chad, who you’ve talk to is latest. We met at an art showing for our common friend Peter. I fucked him in the back office of the gallery the first night and hook up weekly at least. He’s great in the sack.”

“I looked at his pics on your phone. He looks amazing.”

He goes on about Liam, Jim and Dennis, filling in a lot of blanks. Then he talks about Jason and his straight guy friends. About half the information is not new to me but the rest is great. Marcus fills in a lot of personal history about people, things like how they met, jokes they share, likes/dislikes and habits. A lot of the little things Marcus knows, are now part of my identity and strengthen my identity as Marcus Thomas.

“So how is the Clinic treating you? Making progress?” I ask.

“The last two weeks was me shaking, having withdrawals and night sweats. I would kill for a drink right now. There’s group therapy every day before lunch,  then after lunch are the one-on-one sessions. Dinner is at 6pm and the rest of the day is ours. There’s TV and complete library but no phones or internet.”

“What about your lawyer, record and trial? How does that work?” I probe.

“I get a weekly, 10 minute call. He says the 3 months of treatment may be counted as 3 months of jail time but I could still get real jail time of up to 5 years.”

“What about you driving? You’ll have a record.”

“It’s too early to know. I’m hoping I do 3 months here, have limited driving rights and no jail time. He’s also working on getting the arrest record expunged.”

“You have a lot riding on this lawyer, do you want me to contact him?”

“No, but check my mail for any of his bills and pay them. My bank login information is here, but it should be saved on my iMac.”

“What if I’m caught?” Not that I would but just want to play up my concern.

“Are you joking? You won’t be. With all this information and your looks, you’ll pull off my identity easily. Have fun at work Marcus.” He hands over his life to me.

I drop Marcus off but don’t go inside. It’s another 6 hour drive home with a quick stop in Ann Arbor to change into Marcus for another month. The entire drive home my mind is spinning with what just happened. My brother has turned over his life to me and I don’t have to worry about the last two weeks. Once I’ve changed back into my ‘Marcus’ outfit and driving the BMW, I only think of myself as him. I start thinking of work and upcoming projects, working out with Jason and lunch at Merit using my new membership.

The Better Marcus

The Ballis Automotive rebranding campaign kicked off a few weeks ago to rave reviews. Robert storms into my office all excited because we’ve been nominated for a number of Association of National Advertisers B2 awards. Just to be nominated is a huge honor even if you don’t win. The Ballis campaign was nominated for the categories of ‘Web Presence’, ‘Branding’, ‘Employer Branding’ and ‘Product Relaunch’. The B2 award gala will be held at the end of the month, at the Sheraton Grand which is less than a mile from our office. 

Marcus may have done the initial work on the overall proposal, but I’m the one who reworked the website and branding portions at the last minute. I’ve always been the more creative one. Robert is convinced this will catapult Coleman to the top for Chicago marketing. When Robert leaves, I look out the window, overlooking Michigan avenue and look at myself in the reflection. A deep sense of accomplishment and satisfaction hits me—I’m a better Marcus for sure.

“Is your head swollen? Will it fit through the door?” Jason comes running into my office after hearing the ANA news. 

“No, you better call building maintenance so they can enlarge the door so I can get out.” I turn around, he high fives me and I smack the back of his head for his comment.

“Ouch, you fucker! We’re heading up to 95th.”

“For sure, just give me a few minutes to finish up here. I’ll meet you there.”

I finish up some emails, then think about Marcus getting all the credit for my hard work. He’d have no problem sitting here with the award on the desk, showing it off, bragging while not having a clue what went into it. Thinking of this, just pisses me off. I’m not going to let him do this, he’s been taking things from me our entire life.

Happy hour is insane and even Jason notices I’m back to drinking ‘like a ho’. The whole office is here including Robert and Adam. Robert pulls me, Gary,  and Adam aside to let us know that we have a table for the black tie gala, we’re all attending in a few weeks and it’s black tie. It’s a huge celebration for just the simple nominations. 

I text Chad and he joins us then drives me back to his place for the night. This helps a lot since, like Jason, I had no clue where he lives. Sex with him is great. I don’t even mind him being a screamer, especially when he’s screaming out ‘Marcus’. Fucking him as Marcus is such a turn on for me, that I usually explode upon hearing my new name. I figured out, based on emails that Marcus dated him for about 6 weeks, and I’ve been at it for 4 weeks. Like everyone else I interact with, he’s clueless to the switch. 

Two weeks later ‘team Coleman’, as we’re now calling ourselves, is at the Gala dressed to the nines. I spent about $9,000 at Tom Ford for a new Tuxedo and accessories. There is a Brooks Brothers tuxedo in the back of my closet but wearing it would be out of character for Marcus. It was a brilliant night for Coleman and Ballis, winning ‘Web Presence, Employer Branding and Branding’—all areas that I created, not Marcus. Robert hands me one of the awards and has me talk about the web presence concept. Chad films it for my Instagram. We go back to my place to celebrate with more sex but I leave early for my lunch with my brother tomorrow in Cleveland.

The next morning I spend hours at the DMV getting my new Illinois drivers license. I walk in as Michael Thomas from Ann Arbor, Michigan and walk out as Marcus Thomas of Chicago Illinois. I managed to find the same shirt  Marcus used for his license, and wore it for my new pic. Putting both side by side, the only difference is the license number itself. At home I log into all of my accounts, like banking, work, travel and update them with my new drivers license number. My old wallet and my brother’s license are locked in my safe and I change the passcode. The new driver’s license replaces the old one like i’ve replaced Marcus.

I’m shamelessly using ‘my’ Instagram, Facebook, Snapchat and TikTok just like my brother. Whether I’m at happy hour, the gym or out on a date, I’m posting and bragging about my life. 

Visit Number Two

Six weeks have passed since my brother went into rehab and I assumed his identity and life. I’m firmly in place as Marcus, acquiring his friends and career—basically his entire life is now mine. I’m a better version of Marcus Thomas. This time I don’t change my clothes or identity to visit him. On purpose, I’m in one of his favorite outfits, that was well documented on his Instagram.  I’m there early and he’s waiting in the lobby for me. He jumps up when he sees me.

“Michael, you’re early.” Using a name I haven’t responded to in weeks.

“Come on bro, let’s go, I’m starving.” I sign him out with the front desk.

We jump into the car and head to the Sonny’s again. I bring in my briefcase and computer into restaurant with me, to have him help me with some account information. The hostess looks at us oddly, probably wondering if we’re twins. Marcus looks horrible with an overgrown stubble and long hair while I’m the epitome of Marcus Thomas. 

“Wow, don’t you look all spiffy in my clothes.” Marcus stares at me. 

“Yeah, I didn’t realize you were such a fashionista but I’m starting to appreciate it. You approve of my outfit?” I adjust my sleeves in my suit coat. 

“Ah yeah, because it’s one of my favorite outfits—Hugo Boss, my Omega watch and even my Prada shoes. Why so dressed up?” He notices the details.

“Yeah, I saw it on ‘my’ Instagram and loved it.” I’m wearing his Hugo Boss tan glen plaid suit with wine color dress shirt, and Prada lace up derbies. I duplicated it exactly from his pics on Instagram. “I thought I’d show you how much I look like you with hair done, in one of your outfits you. Don’t worry, I take off the jacket and hang it in the car while driving.” 

“Just make yourself at home, in my home and my life.”

“Actually it’s my life Michael. Your friends and coworkers haven’t noticed anything different about me. It’s been really easy being Marcus.” I smile at him, giving him my identity and he doesn’t say a word. 

“I can see why. You’re the spitting image of me, even the hair now.” He acknowledges. 

“Yeah I had to get a haircut of course. Learning your job, friends and life was challenging but I’m you.”

“What about Chad?” He questions.

“Oh my god, I’ve had more sex as you than I had in the past year. You’re still dating Chad and Liam visited. They’re both incredible in bed.” I grin devilishly at him.”

“You’ve slept with both of them?”

“Yeah, Liam was in town for work, called and we had lunch, then sex but he’s back in Detroit. I’ve been ’dating’ Chad regularly and he’s blast too.”

“Wow you have replaced me. I’m so horny and jealous. They didn’t notice a difference?”

“Only that I was better in bed!” I boast.

“Oh shut the fuck up!”

“So how is it going with rehab? Making progress?” I ask sincerely. 

“I would give you a million dollars for a beer right now. I finally started sleeping normally but the cravings don’t end. The other day I had an incident with my doctor when I rejected some pills to calm me down. I threw the bottle in a fit and pills flew across the room. They ended up injecting me with a needle instead and I was out for 12 hours.”

“I never noticed your drinking issue. In college you were no different than anybody else.”

“It happened after college with the job, daily happy hours and binge drinking.”

“I can relate now because Jason wants to do the 95th every night.”

“How is he doing? I miss hanging out with him.” Marcus sadly asks.

“He’s doing great, seeing a girl he met at a football game. He claims she’s the one.”

“Ha, yeah he says that with every new girl. I give it 4 weeks max.” He laughs a little.

“What’s the lawyer saying?” I ask seriously.

“It’s not good.” He’s down again. “He’s trying but not having any luck. He also says I have ‘at least’ three months here, that it could be longer.”

“Jail time?”

“3 to 7 years.” He says soberly.

“Fuck bro! Fuck!!” I was a little loud and some people heard me.

“Yep, I’m fucked for sure. Even 3 years in jail will kill me.”

“I’m sorry bro. I don’t know what to say.” I respond very quietly.

“It’s out of my control, nothing I can do. I just have to hope my lawyer is worth all the money I’m paying him. I don’t want to think about it.” Marcus sighs in defeat. “How is my life, you certainly have my look nailed.” 

“The first few weeks were sketchy, learning your job, habits and people who know you. You didn’t mention your gym membership and working out with Jason. He noticed that when I missed our ‘normal’ workout. Then I messed up when I was clueless about Nikomahs Casino, your first major success.”

“But has anyone discovered you, questioned you?”

“Look at me.” I lean back in the chair and run my hand through my hair in a typical Marcus gesture. “If our parents couldn’t tell us apart, do you think your friends can? They don’t even know you have a twin, so why would they think I’m anyone but you?”

“That is amazing but I shouldn’t be surprised, it was alway easy for us to swap.”

“I’m you, living your life and loving it. I’m doing one hell of a job.”

“No glitches or problems with people or issues?”

“Not a single person has questioned my identity but there has been some slip ups on my part. The worst moment was my lack of knowledge about the changes to the Nikomahs casino account over the past 6 years, that ‘I’ personally handle. I was so embarrassed but Robert jumped in and filled in the blanks. Afterwards he pulled me aside and asked what’s wrong, that I was not myself. I pulled the ‘mom isn’t well and I can’t focus. It seemed to work but that night I spent hours in the office reviewing every document and email about it.” I confess but lie. 

“You can’t possibly know my career history or little details.”

“That’s why you’re going to fill me in on the details. You’re going to fill in the blanks of your life for me.” I pull out his computer from his briefcase. 

“Sure, you’ve got 6 more weeks to cover for me.”

“I have to ask…what if you go to jail? What do I do?”

“I don’t know. Resign my job, sell my condo and put everything in storage? Make up some lie, like I’m starting my own business and moving to London.”

“Throw everything away? What if I keep your identity? Robert loves you like a son, and Jason loves you like a brother. They’d be devastated.” I toss it out there to see his reaction.

He gets pissed at me for saying it, I see his anger. “Then fucking live my life, you’ve always been jealous of me. You can be me! It’s the opportunity you’ve been waiting for.”

“Well, I hate to tell you this but I’m definitely doing a better job of it.” I get cocky back with him. 

“Yeah right, your vast experience of job hopping and creating dinky webpages really qualifies you for my job. Looking like me and actually being me, are two different things.”

“Fuck you. I’m crushing it as you. Robert has noticed a positive change in you since I cut back drinking and even Jason has admitted it’s time for us to drink less.” I fire back at him. 

“Fuck you, you may be sitting at my desk, doing my job but you’re not me.”

I open up my acceptance speech video from last night and shove his iPhone in his hand. “I’m actually better than you after only one month. Watch the new Marcus Thomas, ANA B2 award winner.”

He’s just watching in silence, mouth open in disbelief. “You accepted my award for Ballis?”

“No, it’s my award for my work. The meeting was delayed and I reworked about 75% of your proposal, which are what the awards were for.” I boast, he has nothing to say after that.

I open my notebook, pull up the Ballis proposal and shove it towards him. He scrolls through the entire thing, totally silent again. 

“So you built on top of what I created. If I had more time, I would have done even better.” He proclaims after reviewing the presentation.

“Oh, give me a fucking break. Your proposal put me to sleep the first time I went through it. Gary and Adam loved my new concept and Ballis was onboard before the meeting ended. Coleman never saw that happen. You’re welcome.” 

“I’m not thanking you for shit.” People heard that. He’s going thru his social media on ‘my’ iPhone stunned. “You’re living my life.”

“Like my new Tuxedo? It’s Tom Ford. I didn’t want to wear ‘my’ old Brooks Brothers tuxedo I wore for Mark’s wedding.”

“What did that cost me?” He snidely questions.

“Michael, not your concern little bro. I wanted to look my best for my 15 minutes of fame.” 

"My 15 minutes of fame!" He barks again.

“Like I said, I’m being you, including your stupid TikTok and Instagram. It’s what you wanted and it’s exhausting being a narcissist, keeping your ‘fans’ happy.” Actually I’m enjoying the attention and comments but I’m not letting him know. 

“Your TikToks are great and I can’t tell the difference in our posts and pics.” He calms down.

“Duh! We’re twins, you do realize that? You better hope I just don’t walk away tomorrow from your life. You’ll be screwed career wise. You’ll be designing dinky websites and taking crappy jobs.”

“You’d never do that, my life is so much better than your’s and you know it. You should be thanking me.”

“Try me. I’m the one doing you a huge favor, remember that!” I threaten him.

I’m in charge after that and we spend hours reviewing files and his work history. He doesn’t hesitate to answer any of my questions. After some quick shopping for clothes for him at Dick’s Sporting Goods, I drop him off at the entrance and head home. The long drive home gives me time for reflect on my new life. I'm really enjoying everything about it. After only 6 weeks, I don’t want to give it up. 

More Control

I'm living life exactly as Marcus would. The only difference is that I drink half as much as him. I love hanging with Jason and Mark, golfing, playing basketball and working out with them. I've slipped easily into his circle of friends. There's been a few incidences where I didn't quite catch a joke or references but they're usually drunk and don't notice. In Ann Arbor, I had work friends but outside of that I was a loaner, occasionally dating but nothing ever serious.

Other aspects of his life have fallen into place. I keep his appointment for a haircut with Steve at Halo, a hair salon not far from my place. It was a combination wash, haircut, manicure, eyebrow trim and hand job! As I was leaning back over the sink, he’s massaging both my heads at the same time. I’m wasn’t sure how to react but he whispers in my ear that he gets off at 8pm and he’d get me off by midnight if I pick him up. I play it cool as he makes out with me at the same time.

When I leave Halo, I post my shocked looked on Instagram. I pick him up at 8, take him out to eat, then back to my place. This is a regular haircut for my brother since he leads me back to my bedroom, wraps a condom from my drawer on me and rides it all night long. Marcus’ sex life is way better than mine and Steve doesn’t notice a difference just like Chad and Liam. I call Jason to apologize for blowing off Side Tracks but as soon as I say ‘haircut’, he calls me a slut and tells me how jealous he is. I’m grateful to Steve for the sex and for tidying up grooming details like my eyebrows  and cuticles.

I'm officially 'exclusive' with Chad but having too much fun with all this new attention. I’ve scheduled a trip to Detroit for a weekend with Liam. What can I say? He’s tight, fun and just my type. Chad thinks I'm going to a marketing conference in Detroit. Chad is great eye candy for my management to see me with and he’s as fun as Liam in bed. He’s been dating me longer than he did my brother but I don't see much of a future with him. Chad adds credibility to me as Marcus and I still explode when he screams out 'Marcus' as I ram his tight hole. The sex is awesome.

My job is going so well. I believe, no, I know I'm being groomed to be president, taking over Adam's spot. At least once a week, I do lunch with Adam and Robert where we talk about the future of Coleman and of Robert stepping back. They've both notice a change for the better in me, saying I'm more focused, more of a leader and creative.

Financially, I'm spending more than Marcus normally would but I did need a new tuxedo for the ANA, and joining the Merit Club wasn't cheap but it is a legit business expense for my taxes. I met with my Fidelity advisor, Andrew Gingerich, which is something Marcus never did in person, and never took an interest in his money. Good old Marcus, as usual, he only cared that he was making money. My advisor was happy to meet with me and help with diversifying my portfolio. In just the last month, my costs have dropped while my returns have increased significantly. 

One thing no one at Coleman noticed about the old Marcus is his embezzling of corporate funds over the years. We're talking about $500,000 per year that magically moved from marketing to his own personal Fidelity checking account via a Cayman account. No wonder his could just plop down $120,000 for his new BMW and $30,000 for his Merit Club membership. My brother would have eventually been caught and really ended up in jail. It took a while to unravel the money trail but then I returned it to Coleman, making sure it looks like a simple accounting error. My net worth has dropped by about $2m but more importantly, I have leverage over my brother.

Visit Number Three

It’s going to be a day of reckoning for my brother. I’ve been him for 10 weeks, making this our longest identity swap and also a lot more complex than when we were in college. I pick him up and head to our usual Sonny’s BBQ. Marcus doesn’t say a word during the short drive and he looks good but not happy at all.

“So what’s with the silence?” I carefully ask.

“Oh nothing really, just another month of rehab followed by 3 to 7 years in jail.”

“What? What the hell happened?”

“My worthless lawyer and a judge, with a stick up his ass for 4th time offenders.”

“Wow, I didn’t expect jail time for you. Can you appeal it?”

“Yes, and I could get parole in a few years.”

“When do you go to jail?”

“In about two weeks.”

In a small way, I feel bad for him then I think of his previous incidents, and him embezzling from his employer who adores him. He had it made financially just on his salary alone with no need to steal a penny. After a few fleeting thoughts like that, reality comes back and I think he’s not getting close to what he deserves. I’m also thrilled at the thought of keeping his life for myself.

“So you go straight to jail? No probation, no time in between?”

“The police will pick me up right here, the prison is in Jackson, Michigan. It’s for white collar criminals and addiction with continuing counseling.”

“Fuck man, fuck! What are you going to do?” I vent.

“How about we swap places and you do me a little favor.”

“Oh yeah, that sounds like a plan, especially with that nice ankle bracelet you’re wearing. Do you still have urges to drink?”

“In all honesty, after I got the news of jail time, I wished I was at the 95th, downing shots with Jason.”

“Well, it’s quite a lot to accept. That’s normal.”

“You’ll probably be let out early. It’s not like you killed someone.”

“Yeah, my lawyer agrees with you on that, but still, three years in jail.”

“What about your life and job?”

“Just quit my job, pack everything up and put it in storage.” He says it too easily.

“Throw it all away?”

“Yeah and when I get out, I’ll be doing websites and marketing for ‘Sammy’s Garage’ in Ann Arbor like you.” He laughs at his put down.

“Maybe you will be, in fact, you probably will, but I won’t. I’ve grown accustom to your life.”

“You’re moving to a big city and getting a real job? Oh yeah, I so see that happening.” He mocks me. 

“Already a done deal bro, not giving it up.”

“Are you saying, you’re keeping my life?”

“Why not? I’m the better Marcus, my coworker Adam says I’ll be promoted to his spot in a few months when Robert retires. Look at me bro, I’m you without the drinking problem. I’m set for life—great salary, boyfriends, great friends, awesome condo and hot car.”

“Why not? Why not? Are you fucking insane? First, it’s not your life, it’s mine. Second, I won’t let you do it.”

“I’ve been thinking about this and it makes complete sense. I need a job, I’m perfect for it and I’m a natural. No one has a clue I’m not you, thanks to my looks and your coaching.”

“I’ll have my lawyer make sure you don’t, you’ll go to jail for fraud. I’ll claim I had no clue what you were doing.”

“I don’t think so bro, unless you want to spend more time in jail for embezzling funds.”

“What?” He looks shocked.

“I know you have millions hidden in accounts all around the world. I bet Coleman would love to know how you screwed them.”

“How did you find out?”

“Oh come on bro, I’m not stupid. I looked at your tax returns and even if you saved every penny,  you’d be lucky to have $3m in the bank. Then there’s mysterious deposits from and to an account in the Caymans. It took a little sleuthing but with my degree in finance, it started to make sense.  Then when ‘my’ buddy Javier called from the Caymans, it all fell into place.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I told you, I’m taking over your life. As you mentioned, it’s pretty sweet, I’m good at it and you were right, I was a little jealous.”

“You fucking bastard.” He curses under his breath.

“Calm down bro, it’s not too bad. You can’t use it, you won’t need it for a few years. It’s going to be our little secret from now on. Oh and it’s permanent too, so even when you do get out, don’t come asking for your life back.”

“You won’t get away with this.”

“I have gotten away with this for months now. By the way, if something happens to me, I’ve made arrangements to blow this wide open and you will be back in jail. Also, Javier is no longer helping me, I put an end to your scheme.” His mouth is hanging up.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this to your own brother.”

“Ha! Seriously, you’re playing the brother card? My brother who calls once or twice a year, who I haven’t seen in years and who keeps me secret. Nice try.” I laugh and mock him.

Marcus just sits there saying nothing, staring at his ribs. I can see he’s seething and thinking of his options. He’s just got to realize it’s checkmate and accept it.

“Bro, I’m doing you a huge favor. Your reputation remains intact and it’s actually gotten better with me in charge. I’m now well known in the marketing world. It’s best for both of us but it’s only fair that I benefit the most. When you get out, I’ll be here to help you get on your feet, hell, I’ll give your plenty of start up money and as me, you can create your own company even. You’ve got time to plan it.”

“Fine!” He blurts out defeated.

“Bro, I’ll come see you in prison, keep you updated on things. You’ll be fine, we’ll both be fine.”

We finish our lunch and he doesn’t say a word the entire drive back. We pull up front, I walk him in and give him a hug. 

“Cya bro.” Are my last words to him. I take my time driving back to my new life in Chicago.

THE END

[desdealgunlugardelsur]

Harrison Ford: 2020 summary

A year like no other, as you must have heard countless times. The pandemic changed almost everybody´s life on this planet and Harrison wasn´t an exception. Our lil´ bean is strong and healthy but also has to be safe at home, so this year didn´t deliver many news about Harrison. Still, we had a new Harrison movie, The Call of the Wild, released in February, and a few other events before the lockdown. 2020 was also marked by the death of 3 former Harrison´s costars: Chadwick Boseman, Sean Connery and David Prowse. May all of them rest on peace on Heaven.

A new year begins, and we all wish Harrison (and everyone by the way) a productive, happy and healthy 2021. Stay safe!

JANUARY

Early January:  Harrison Ford enjoying his holidays in the caribbean island of Bonaire

25th: Harrison Ford with singer Carole Bayer Sager in a dinner in support of US Democratic candidate Michael Bloomberg

28th: The Call of the Wild “Adventure Companions” Featurette.  Harrison Ford talks about dogs and companionship in The Call of the Wild’s “Adventure Companions” featurette.

28th: not sure where these pics were taken. Probably in Wyoming?  (pics from Rich Elali)

FEBRUARY

3rd: Verizon Super Bowl Ad Features Harrison Ford And New Pearl Jam Song

Kathleen Kennedy Says Harrison Ford Is Still On For ‘Indiana Jones 5’

Early-mid February: the national and international promotion  of The Call of the Wild  begins

5th: In Mexico City:

Harrison Ford: America Has Lost Its Moral Leadership And Credibility:  The “Star Wars” and “Indiana Jones” star calls out U.S. policy on immigration and climate.

11th: On the Jimmy Kimmel Show:

More here 

13th: Harrison Ford, actor and watch designer.  Newly adapted from Jack London’s literary classic, “The Call of the Wild” transports us to the snowy expanses of Alaska in the 1890s, with Harrison Ford as prospector John Thornton. The actor talks about climate activism, technology and why mechanical watches beat smartwatches every time.

14th: Indiana Jones 5 Starts Shooting In Two Months Says Harrison Ford :  The long delayed fifth Indiana Jones film is finally about to get underway, as Harrison Ford reveals that he will begin shooting in two months. (that was what they were planning before COVID-19 hit the world...)

14th: Harrison Ford: Indiana Jones 5 Will “See Part of His History Resolved”

17th: “A Force ghost? I don’t know what a Force ghost is…I have no idea what a Force ghost is. And I don’t care!“. Legend.

21st: The Call of the Wild is released in cinemas

At the movie premiere in Los Angeles:

BRING ON THE PUPPIES:

More videos:

Call of the Wild Survival Tips!

SNACK??? (Kudos to that girl)

Find epic stories at your library! 

More news:

Of Course Harrison Ford Did His Own Call Of The Wild Stunts And 'Wore Out' The Stunt Team

Harrison Ford's shirtless chest is that buff (at 77) for his 'Call of the Wild' swim scene

26th: Steven Spielberg Won’t Direct ‘Indiana Jones 5,’ James Mangold in Talks to Replace  

27th: Harrison Ford Breaks Down His Career, from 'Star Wars' to 'Indiana Jones'  (Vanity Fair)

Late February: Harrison Ford visits Google´s offices in San Francisco to test the company´s self-driving car. [x] [x] [x] [x]

MARCH

14th:  Harrison spotted in South Hadley, Massachusetts [x].  Apparently Harrison and Calista went to Massachusetts to pick up their son Liam after college shut down due to the coronavirus pandemic.

MARCH

MARCH

MARCH

MARCH

...

APRIL

3rd: Disney delay multiple release dates including Jungle Cruise, The French Dispatch, and Indiana Jones 5  

(…) Another big reveal is that Indiana Jones 5 – which will reportedly be directed by James Mangold – is being pushed back a year, from July 9, 2021 to July 29, 2022.

29th: Harrison Ford under FAA investigation after making a mistake while operating an airplane on the runway

According to the audio obtained by TMZ, Ford, 77, did not follow the direction of a tower operator to “keep short” on the runway because of “traffic”. It seems that the actor did not hear the direction. He nevertheless started to cross the runway, which prompted the operator to reprimand him for not following his instructions.

“Cross this trail now!” I told you to keep it short! You have to listen, “said the operator.

“Excuse me, sir, I thought exactly the opposite. I’m really sorry, ”said Ford immediately.

TMZ said there was no risk of an accident. The other aircraft was allegedly 3600 feet from Ford’s aircraft.

MAY

6th: Lucasfilm Reportedly Wants Harrison Ford To Return For Han And Chewie Star Wars Spinoff (Note: this hasn´t been officially confirmed by Lucasfilm)

15th: No news but I think this is cute: 

From twitter.com/siikasele

21st: The Empire Strikes Back 40th anniversary. 40 years ago, TESB was released on theaters the 21st of May of 1980.

27th: James Mangold Confirmed To Direct Indiana Jones 5.  Producer Frank Marshall confirms James Mangold is directing Indiana Jones 5 and says he's only just begun to work on his own script for the movie.

28th: James Mangold plans to take Indiana Jones franchise 'someplace new'. 

Indiana Jones Writer on How Pandemic Will Affect Film's Script

JUNE

Nothing happens but look at this

You are welcome.

JULY

13th: Happy birthday king!

AUGUST

23rd:  Harrison Ford dropping off his son Liam at College with wife Calista Flockhart via private plane (from tinyrebelstuff)

28th: Chadwick Boseman dies of cancer at the age of 43

Harrison Ford Calls Chadwick Boseman "As Much a Hero as Any He Played" 

“Chadwick Boseman was as compelling, powerful and truthful as the characters he chose to play,” Ford said in a statement to The Hollywood Reporter. “His intelligence, personal dignity and deep commitment inspired his colleagues and elevated the stories he told. He is as much a hero as any he played. He is loved and will be deeply missed.”

SEPTEMBER

24th: Harrison Ford Cleared by FAA in Runway Investigation. "The FAA has closed the case involving the pilot who crossed a Hawthorne Municipal Airport runway without authorization on April 24, 2020. The FAA required the pilot to take a remedial runway incursion training course. When the pilot successfully completed the course, the FAA closed the case with no additional action," the FAA said in a statement to The Hollywood Reporter.

OCTOBER

19th: Harrison Ford & Ed Helms To Star In STX Seafaring Comedy ‘Adventures Of Burt Squire’ 

22nd: Actor and Pilot Harrison Ford Becomes Airlink Spokesperson. Video here

31st: Sean Connery dies at 90.

Sean Connery: Harrison Ford pays tribute to his Indiana Jones father and 'dear friend'

"He was my father... not in life... but in Indy 3," he said.

"You don't know pleasure until someone pays you to take Sean Connery for a ride in the sidecar of a Russian motorcycle bouncing along a bumpy, twisty mountain trail and getting to watch him squirm.

"God, we had fun - if he's in heaven, I hope they have golf courses.

"Rest in peace, dear friend."

NOVEMBER

2nd: Harrison Ford And Lincoln Project Back Anthony Fauci, Advocate Firing Donald Trump  

In the waning hours of the 2020 presidential election, the Lincoln Project has enlisted Harrison Ford to narrate a new ad that plays up President Donald Trump’s suggestion that he will fire Dr. Anthony Fauci.

The spot features a scene from a Trump rally on Sunday in which supporters began chanting “Fire Fauci! Fire Fauci!” and the president responded, “Don’t tell anybody, but let me wait til a little bit after the election.”

Ford then says, “Tomorrow, you can fire only one of them. The choice is yours.”

3rd: Harrison Ford and Bloomberg on Biden 2020

7th: Destiel becomes canon. Harrison doesn´t give a single fuck.

Also Joe Biden wins the US elections. Trump is defeated. Harrison, we know you hate Donald Trump. Congratulations.

21st: Harrison Ford back in Boston, Massachusetts, to pick up his son Liam for Thanksgiving Day.

28th: David Prowse, who played Darth Vader in the original trilogy, dies at the age of 85. Sorry, I didn´t find any words from Harrison on his memory... it seems they weren´t so close. Also, Jeremy Bulloch, the original Boba Fett, dies at 75 the 17th of december.

DECEMBER

10th: Indiana Jones: James Mangold, Harrison Ford Team to Close Out the Character  

Harrison Ford and James Mangold's Indiana Jones 5 will serve as the final chapter for the iconic character.

Disney changed the Indiana Jones logotype. I have a bad feeling about this.

15th: Rare, behind-the-scenes look at 'The Empire Strikes Back'

Including this jewel:

Gif from the @theorganasolo​

31st: And just at the very last day of this weird and strange year...

Disney Reportedly Wants Harrison Ford For Indiana Jones Streaming Show 

Thankfully, then, it seems that the fifth (Indiana Jones) outing may not be the last we see of the actor in the role, as insider Daniel Richtman claims that Disney wants Ford to appear in a series that’s being developed for their streaming service. Further details are unclear and the tipster doesn’t say if it’s an all-new show or a reboot of The Young Indiana Jones Chronicles, but as one of the Mouse House’s most valuable assets, it wouldn’t be a surprise if they wanted to continue mining the property once Indiana Jones 5 wraps up the big screen stories for good. 

Thanks everyone! Hopefully in 2021 the pandemic will fade and the world will return to normalcy. Luckily the production of Indiana Jones V will start this spring, as well as other Harrison projects such the tv show The Staircase and the movie starring with Ed Elms. Fingers crossed for a year full of (good) news about Harrison. Have a happy and safe 2021.

[thestarwrites]

A Different Time, A Different Place, Ch. 5

A TIME SKIP...

All Might has vanished from Japan and no one but two people know where he went. But what of the girl he's left behind?

“The girl is pregnant, Torino.”

Recovery Girl was one of the only people who knew what happened, and where Torino sent the young hero Toshinori. She was over his house, giving a weekly update on the girl All Might had been dating. The one thing he had made Gran Torino promise was that he would ensure Keri wasn't marked by All For One as she tried to live her life. But he didn't want to know what was going on - it hurt too much.

He covered his mouth, looking outside at the full moon, “You’re sure? You're sure she's pregnant?"

“I’m a doctor of course I’m sure! It’s hard for me to get close as a popular hero. She’s enrolled in college. She didn’t go into hero work.” 

He nodded, “Yes, we knew she was going into college," Torino shook his head and ran a hand through his silver hair, "No one can know. Keep an eye on her, make sure no one is also watching. I can't believe Toshinori was stupid enough to get a girl pregnant!”

“You have to tell him.”

“No.” 

“He has a right to know Torino!” She sounded shocked.

“If he knows he’ll come back to Japan. We can’t have that happen right now. It’ll be a distraction. The girl doesn’t know what happened to him. He doesn’t know anything about her. He’s already grieving the loss of Nana and his relationship. He doesn’t need more to worry over!” 

“This isn’t right...”

“I promised I would protect him. And in keeping this knowledge from him we protect all three of them.” 

Chiyo sighed and nodded, “This will be hard on her.” 

“She’s strong enough.” 

Sighing again the woman spoke, “He'll never forgive you for this, you know.” 

“He can hate me if he wants. His vengeance is needed to get stronger to face All for One, not worrying about a child. That is what I have to focus on. The child has a loving mother to care of it.” 

“I should let you go, Torino,” She stood and took a deep breath.

"You're upset with me, Chiyo," He sighed and pushed his hair back again,  “Keep me posted.” 

“I will...” she sighed as she left.

 -------------------------

"Come on, Toshi! What are you afraid of they're just girls!" Dave Shield laughed as he tried to get Toshinori to go to a frat party with him, "The girls are absolutely obsessed with you! You have quite the number of groupies already! You're so lucky!"

The hulking blonde shook his head, adjusting his varsity jacket, "I should... try to do some more hero work."

Dave sighed, "Toshi. You've been working all day." He patted his friends back, "Come unwind with us. It's a frat party! I know you don't have those in Japan. You guys are all too strict with your school and shit."

"Okay- okay," he nodded and pushed a hand over his hair.

"We're just a couple single guys anyway, right?"

All Might looked strange but nodded, Dave made a mental note to ask him about it sometime. Maybe he had a bad breakup?

The frat house was loud and full of drunk teenagers, Toshinori was 18 and he tried to rationalize that he shouldn't worry about Japan while he was here in America. He held a beer in his hand as he looked down at it, he suddenly lifted it up and downed it.

"Toshi! Come do a shot!"

The boy walked over with his empty glass, "A what?"

David laughed, trying to think of the words in English to describe it, "Its a single serving of hard booze you drink in one go."

"Oh." He took the little shot glass handed to him and he did as the other boys did, grimacing at the bitter taste of the tequila, "Well that was unpleasant."

"You don't drink it because its pleasant Toshinori, you drink it because it gets you drunk faster!" One of the guys explained.

"Oh," he expressed again, taking another two shots because that's what the other boys did.

 The party went on and Toshinori was feeling buzzed and a little sick to his stomach. He moved to cross the room, heading for the door to get some air. He was stopped by a pretty blonde girl with a small waist and big round ass who started grinding against him to the music playing, and for a moment he let himself go and placed his large hands on her waist. He sighed as she bent over and stood up, pressing back against him.

He looked down at her and for a moment, he couldn't think of anyone but Keri.

Pulling away from the blonde she let out an annoyed, "Hey!"

"S-sorry." He mumbled and moved to head back to his original trajectory - the front door. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed softly.

Dave was outside smoking a blunt, beer in hand, and he frowned when he saw Toshinori come out of the party looking upset. Sighing he wet his fingertips, putting out the joint and stashing it in his pocket, "Toshi!" He smiled and walked up to his friend, "Hey man, you don't look so good, whats up?" Toshinori looked up at his friend, there were tears in his eyes. Dave knitted his brows together and put a hand on his back, "Hey- hey Toshi, whats wrong?"

He sniffed, rarely ever so vulnerable, but he was buzzed and the tears wouldn't stop, "Dave..."

"Hey, come on- come on I'll drive ya home, pal."

"Yeah?"

Dave smiled and nodded, "Of course, come on."

The blonde nodded and walked with his friend, hands in his pockets as he sniffled. Once they were a considerable distance from the house and down the street toward David's car, he finally spoke, "I left a girl back home."

He frowned, "Yeah? Whats her name?"

"Keri Chairo."

Nodding Dave climbed into the car, "That's a pretty name. Why don't you tell me about her?"

Toshinori clamored into the car as well and he leaned his head back to look up at the sky, "She's really smart. She didn't go to the same high school as me but, I always saw her when i was on patrol, and stuff, y'know? So I kept skipping off patrol so I could talk to her until I finally got up the courage to ask for her number."

"Dude, you needed to WORK UP to asking a girl for her number? You're tall and handsome and you have the most powerful quirk I've ever seen!"

He chuckled and wiped his teary eyes, "You don't get it, Dave, she's so beautiful... and she's going to college. She wants to be a hero therapist."

"Is she quirkless?"

Shaking his head he took a deep breath, "No, she has whats called pathokenesis. Emotional manipulation. Like, if someone is sad she can send comforting waves through their body. Or she can inspire you if you're having doubts. She can feel peoples emotions if they're really strong, or if shes focusing on one person. And like," he laughed, blushing, "When we make out and you know... go all the way with her and stuff, she can't control her quirk and you can feel what she's feeling, its - it's wild."

Dave raised his brows, "You have a whole-ass girlfriend and you didn't tell me!? Oh my god Tosh, i thought we were friends!" He laughed, "You've gone all the way with her! Get out of here!"

Toshinori blushed harder, "Yeah... we used to get motel rooms and sneak around about it. But I... I left Japan without telling her. She has no idea where I am."

"Oh dude, that's harsh. Is that what's bugging you?"

He nodded and slumped in the seat, "Remember I told you I have to get stronger to defeat the person who killed my mentor?" When Dave nodded he continued, "I came here because I need to become a hero. I need to get stronger and more powerful. But if I did it in Japan his thugs or he could find me - and if I told Keri? She could be a target. I... I had to protect her."

"Man." Was all Dave could think to say.

The blonde just started to cry softly, "When I finally get back to Japan I need to find her, tell her how sorry I am. That I did what was best for her."

"Toshi, she'll understand."

"What if she doesn't! What if she hates me forever for what I've done?"

The brunette sighed and started the car finally, "If she really loves you, she'll understand."

"I miss her so much," he whimpered, wiping at his eyes.

Dave nodded and patted his arm, "Well, you know what I think?" He looked over but didn't speak, so David continued, "I think you work hard, you throw yourself into this more than before. You become the Symbol of Peace you want to be. So then, when you go back home, you'll be so successful and strong and you can show off all that hard work. So she'll know you did it for her, and for the world. That you gave it your all, and you can look at her and say, Keri, I am here."

He sniffed and smiled a little, "I like that... I am here."

Dave laughed, "Nah man, you have to say it with conviction," throwing his head up he laughed, "I AM HERE!"

Toshinori laughed a little at his friend, taking a deep breath, "I am here!"

"LIKE YOU MEAN IT, ALL MIGHT!" Dave smirked.

Toshinori laughed and beamed, "I AM HERE!!!!"

 --------------------

Keri Chairo looked down and gently rubbed the swell of her stomach as she left the hospital. She was going to have a boy, that was incredible news. She sighed thinking of the baby’s father, how he must be dead. He’d never abandon her would he? He said he loved her.

She had gone thorough a lot of changes through the last four months, she was only 18 and she would be a mother before her 19th birthday. She would have to figure out how to care for a child and be a full time student. Luckily her parents were helping her out so she wouldn't have to quit school.

“Excuse me, miss?” 

Keri looked up and gasped with a smile, “Y-you’re Recovery Girl-“ 

The older woman nodded with a smile, “Yes- and whats your name?”

“Keri Chairo, miss.” 

“Well young miss, it seems you are expecting?”

Blushing she held her stomach gently, “Yes... I’m going to have a boy, I just found out today.”

“Oh how exciting!” She beamed- Toshinori would have a son - “How... old are you dear?”

“Oh... I’m... I’m eighteen... I know what you must be thinking... some dumb teenager getting knocked up. Why would she have the baby."

Recovery Girl smiled kindly at her, "That's not what i was going to say - but, why are you having the baby?"

She looked down at her hands as she picked at her nails, "I don't know if i would have kept it if... If the father was still here but - he... he's dead and, and we loved each other. We were usually always safe but, someone really close to him died and we were careless. And now he's gone too. It's all I have left of him."

Chiyo's heart shattered instantly knowing the truth, "Oh my dear I'm so sorry... what happened to him?"

"That's the thing," she took a deep breath, "I don't know."

"Then how do you know he's dead?"

"I'd like to think he wouldn't have just disappeared and left me behind."

"Was he a hero?"

"He wanted to be, yeah." She sighed.

She placed a gentle hand on the girl's arm, "Well dear, from what I know of heroes, sometimes they have to make tough decisions for the people they love. Maybe something happened that he couldn't risk you getting hurt? Maybe one of these days he'll come back when you least expect it. But if he is, at least you will have your baby to cherish."

The girl knitted her brows together and she bit her lip, trying not to cry, "I'm sorry I'm getting all weepy on you, miss."

"Oh no no, please, don't apologize young miss Chairo! You're pregnant and grieving, you have a right to be upset," she looked around, "Hey, why don't I take you out for lunch? My treat? Maybe you can tell me all about this boy of yours? And what you want to do with your future?"

Keri looked to her, she felt the emotion of sincerity coming from the woman and she nodded, wiping her nose on her sleeve, "Okay, I'd like that."

"Besides, someone needs to properly congratulate you on the fact that you're having a son."

[rosesvioletshardy]

life as we know it - b.h. chapter 10

we’re finally onto double digits! i thought this story would be done by this chapter but i was wrong with how i’m making i guess slow burn go. just to warn you i do have summer classes at the moment until the 19th of july so if any chapters get delayed it’s because of that or personal reasons.

i think y’all are going to enjoy this chapter because i liked writing it a lot even though at one point i did have writer’s block

i also had to take some things out which annoyed me but i think it’ll fit better in other chapters

please be nice and leave a reblog or any comments :)

masterlist

summary: when their two best friends die, it’s up to ben and y/n to take care of their goddaughter and face the challenges with it.

# of words: 3,836

warnings: none?, some language

taglist: @myfatbottomedgirls , @evemarie05 , @suckerfor-fanfics

inbox or message me if you’d like to be added to the taglist for the series

----

(her outfit for dinner later in the chapter)

when y/n woke up, she realized what day it was and immediately felt sick to her stomach. it was the day she had to break up with sean. the only problem she had was that she didn’t know where her feelings stood with ben and if he had felt the same towards her. needing to distract herself for the day before the evening, she decided to spend the morning with charlie and ben and only focus on them without anything else on her mind. she got out of bed and walked into the bathroom and fixed up her appearance a bit because hair sticking up everywhere was not the look she was going for. 

while getting ready she got a ding from her phone signaling she got a text. standing in front of the mirror for a couple of minutes before plucking up the courage to go check her phone. taking the phone off the charger, she flipped it over and opened her phone. Pressing on his contact name, she read the message

i can’t wait for tonight, i think we’re both going to be surprised tonight ;)

she knew what he was talking about. he was going to propose. the only thing she couldn’t figure out was whether she should do it before to get it over with, or after. if she did it after, she would have all eyes on her from the people around them and she thought that she would be selfish about what she’s giving up. a man with a stable job, good money, nice family (even if she hasn’t met them), to someone who is going to be away almost all the time. she took a deep breath and let it go before sending him a message back.

i can’t wait for tonight either, happy birthday my love <3

the thought of calling him “her love” made her sick to her stomach knowing that it wasn’t true anymore and hasn’t been true for a long time anymore. throwing her phone on the bed, she left the room to go wake charlie up. when she entered her room, y/n saw her already awake and standing ready for the day.

“good morning baby, how are you? let’s go wake up uncle ben. it’ll be good this time and funny because he came home a little drunk last night and i thought we could mess with him with frankie.” she told her getting her ready.

as they went carefully down the stairs, y/n grabbed the peanut butter and a spoon before walking over to the couch where ben was passed out. setting charlie on the ground, she opened the peanut butter and grabbed a little with the spoon and carefully put it on just the tip of his nose. quickly flinching away as soon as he started to sniffle, y/n put a little bit more before closing the jar and putting it away on the table. taking his phone, she started to record and called frankie over to where she was

“Come here frank, come her girl” she whispered while waving her hand over

“c’mon, what is this?” she finished while pointing to the peanut butter

frankie took a moment to sniff out what she was talking about before she started to lick ben’s face. ben began to wiggle his nose after feeling something and then started to moan. she tried her best to not to burst out laughing 

“y/n? haven’t seen you be this wild since new years.” ben said as his eyes fluttered open only to see his dog licking all over his face causing him to yell

“WHAT THE FUCK Y/N?!” he yelled trying to wipe off his face as she fell over laughing her ass off as well as charlie

“i’m-i’m sorry. i had too” she laughed out

ben groaned as he tried to wipe away any excess peanut butter and slobber. y/n and charlie continued to laugh while he tried to wake up and ignore his hangover. he fell back onto the couch holding his head regretting his choices of getting drunk with joe, gwilym, and rami but he had fun hanging out with them. she got up after pulling herself together and smoothed down her outfit before talking

“okay, okay. i’m sorry. i really am, i’ll go get you some ibuprofen and make some breakfast as a sorry.” she told him crouching down and pushing some of his hair out of his face

“can you make some coffee and those cinnamon rolls from your bakery?” he asked muffled

“yeah i will, did you have too much last night?” 

“yeah. i am never going to drink again.” 

“we all say that but it never happens”

“shhh. let me dream. when are they going to make something that’ll get you drunk but you just don’t wake up with a hangover the next day. charlie, learn from us. do not drink no matter how good it is sometimes.” ben said as y/n left to go to the kitchen to get ben his medication

“don’t corrupt her just yet. she probably won’t even listen. i mean, didn't you party as a teenager? did things your parents didn’t want you ever doing?” she asked him

“maybe who knows?” he shrugged swallowing the pills and picking up charlie to sit her down in her high chair

“what about you? i know you’re not innocent, i mean new years proved it and the couple days before too.” he smirked and winked at her

y/n’s face flushed pink as she got out the ingredients for the cinnamon rolls. she knew exactly what he was talking about and he wasn’t lying. she may seem like she’s all bubbly and innocent but she wasn’t exactly as innocent as everyone thought.

“i may have done a few things in college. you don’t need to know the details.” 

“hmm right. i’m going to go for a run. what time are you going to be leaving tonight?” he asked her drinking the rest of his water before going to change

“he’s coming around 5:30-”

when ben heard her say that sean was going to pick her up he started to choke on his water as she stopped kneading the dough

“oh my god! are you okay?” she said as she began to pat his back

“yeah, ‘m fine. ‘m fine. just shocked. did you say he was coming here? like here here?” 

“yes i tried to tell him we’ll just meet each other but i couldn’t. sorry.” 

“‘t’s fine, we’ll just have to hide charlie and teach frankie some tactics to scare him and maybe attack him who knows?” ben said shrugging looking away

y/n gave him a look a disappointment and an exasperated sigh

“alright ‘m sorry. i’ll just leave then. be all by myself on my run” he sighed out

“you’re being dramatic”

“‘m an actor darling, ‘m supposed to be dramatic” he flipping the non existent long hair

“damn i wish i had my roger wig. at least i can flip my hair with it.” he finished

“uh huh. go on your run rock star.”

“c’mon frank, let’s go. y/n is being rude to the both of us.” he told her crouching down and scratching her ears

“bye baby girl. we’re going to have a fun night tonight. you’re auntie y/n is being rude and we get to do whatever we want tonight” he whispered to charlie while giving a kiss on her head

“ben”

“fine. geez. who pissed in your coffee this morning. i’m kidding, don’t kill me” he said running while laughing

as ben left the house, he started to stretch for his run to avoid any muscle strains. while he was stretching, rachel went to go her mail, she saw ben as he started to do some side lunges

“oh limbering up, there it is. oh like a rubber band” she whispered to herself

ben thought he felt someone staring at him so he turned around causing rachel to sort through her mail and pretend nothing was happening until she looked up

“oh good morning ben. how are you today?”

“good, you?” 

this caused rachel to giggle and start waving her hand dramatically as she nervously continued to laugh

“oh i’m good”

ben laughed to himself as he and frankie began their run for the morning, greeting their neighbors as they saw tom watering the plants out in the front

“hey big man” “hey tom”

“you catch the game last night?” “what game?” ben asked in confusion as the only thing he remembers from the night before was him and joe dancing while drunk. tom casually laughed it off as he continued on the run

everything was going nice, and quiet until another one of the neighbors, amber, came around and started to run with ben

“oh hello, i didn’t know you were a runner. we should train to together”

“well, i like to use this time to think and spend time with frankie when i’m home since y/n usually takes her on walks now when i film.”

“that’s nice. yeah, i like to use the time to think as well. it’s good for the body and mind. is this the pace we’re going to keep up?” she asked as ben continued to run a little faster 

it’s not like he didn’t dislike the neighbors, it’s just sometimes he’d like to be alone on his runs due to not having that much time on his hands to do it everyday and all the time.

 he continued his run for another hour before finding a place for him and frankie to relax and for her to drink some water he had for them. he took a moment to take in the nice weather they were having that morning and just laid on the ground and looked up at the sky. ben began to overthink about the current situation and wondered if it was just him getting to his emotions and needing validation and comfort from someone. shaking his thoughts away, ben got up and whistled for frankie to signal that they were leaving. on his way home, he drowned out his thoughts using his music so he didn’t think about everything when he met up with her again. 

Stepping into the house, ben was met with the smell of cinnamon rolls as y/n prepped the table for them to eat breakfast. he took off frankie’s leash so she could get some more water and ran up the stairs to go shower and change seeing that he was drenched in sweat. she heard the door slam and went to go to see who it was thinking it was an intruder before seeing ben’s shoes by the door and went back to the kitchen. she didn’t have anything to do before sean’s dinner later in the night seeing that tyler forced her to that day off after working more than she should’ve and she’s exhausting herself, especially because she wanted to expand her bakery into a full restaurant but hasn’t had the time to go over all the paperwork and details.

she began to feed charlie when she heard ben coming down the stairs

“can i just say, as much as i hated you, i don’t hate these cinnamon rolls.” ben told her smelling the air

“thanks, as much as i hated you, you’re not so bad to look at.” “speaking of looks, what are you going to wear tonight?”

“haven’t decided yet. maybe the dress i wore on new years. he seemed to like that dress.”

“so did i” ben mumbled under his breath before drinking his coffee

“what did you say?” she asked whipping her head to him

“what? i didn’t say anything” he told her

“okay.”

the three finished their breakfast in silence before they spent a couple of hours with charlie. ben played the drums for her, as well as singing, trying to introduce her to new music and expand genres and help with the development of learning new sounds and words. y/n went back into the kitchen when she realized that she hadn't made anything for ben and charlie to eat for dinner later in the night while she was gone. ben noticed and told her not to worry and told her that he’ll just order out. he didn’t want her to work anymore and just relax before she had to get ready.

hours later, y/n was in the bedroom putting the finishing touches on her makeup when the doorbell rang.

“i got it, don't worry!” ben yelled as went to the door

opening the door he shouldn’t have been surprised when he saw sean. sean stood there with a smug grin on his face as ben opened the door

“hello ben”

“Sean”

“can i come in?” 

ben welcomed him in with an annoyed look on his face as they walked into the living room. sean was about to go near charlie when ben stopped him and picked her up himself and frankie growled at sean

“don’t touch her”

“Alright ben. i know you don’t like me, and i don’t like you. but after tonight. she is going to be mine and things are going to change. what happened between the two of you, it’s never going to happen. you were simply just a one night stand and just because you two are co-parenting now, it still doesn’t mean anything is going to happen.” “i’m sure things are going to change after tonight. she is one of the most thoughtful and caring people i know and even though she was annoying when we first met, doesn’t mean i don’t care about her feelings. unlike some people.”

“just because you’re rich and famous, doesn’t mean shit. my family is 10 times more richer than you and you can get all the lawyers you want, and still are going to lose everything as soon as she moves in with me, she’ll take little charlie with her since you’re traveling all the time”

“i can take jobs here. it doesn’t matter, maybe i’ll take charlie with me and show her the world. i mean it’ll be good for her while she grows up.”

sean was about to hit back with another argument about y/n and charlie but he got cut off by footsteps coming down the stairs. ben and sean both stood up as they saw her step down the last step. they were both in awe when they saw the woman they were both in love with. 

“Wow” ben said speechless

“you look beautiful” sean told her

“thanks, are you ready?” she asked

“Yeah, i was just having a lovely conversation with ben and admiring how cute charlie is” sean told her as he hooked their arms

“bye ben. i’m not sure when i’ll come home but i’ll tell you okay? bye charlie, be good for your uncle” she told her kissing her head

sean and y/n left the house, and ben locked the door, turning charlie around and began to wonder what they could do for a few hours even though she was supposed to go to sleep in those few hours. 

“well it’s just you and me now. what should we do?” 

charlie reached her hands out for ben’s hair seeing that it was getting long enough for her to pull and he just dealt with it and walked over to the couch and sat her down to watch some tv

“you know this isn’t too bad. just me and you, some food, frankie, and tv. i’m losing my mind oh god” 

y/n on the other hand was in the car with sean on the way to the La Dame de Pic. how she managed to get a reservation there she didn’t understand. she was more than nervous for what was going to happen. she started to drift off into her thoughts and tried to calm down. sean took one of his hands off the wheel and grabbed her right hand. he looked over to her and smiled as they pulled up to the front of the restaurant. sean was determined to be the “gentleman” he thought he was and opened the door for her as she got out. they walked into the restaurant and her nerves increased more.

“hi we have a reservation, under l/n for two?” sean told the lady at the desk

“Yes, please follow me”

the couple followed the lady to the table and sat down. they started the night off with some wine and began to look through the menu. every now and then she would look up and look at sean and think to herself about when she was going to do it. There were too many people near her and felt the panic set in. she was too in deep with her thoughts realize that they were ready to order

“y/n, dear?”

“yes? sorry.” 

“do you know what you want?”

“yeah, um i’ll have the Brittany Pigeon”

“and i’ll have the Steak tartar. thank you.” sean said as they handed back the menus to the waiter

“have i told you how beautiful you look tonight?”

y/n couldn’t help but blush at the comment, but who wouldn’t when they received a comment about how they looked especially if they spent a good amount of time getting ready 

“thank you. how are you enjoying your birthday so far? 30’s a big number” she asked him after taking a sip of her wine

“i have to admit it does feel weird but with you it nothing feels weird and i’m sure something will make it even better.” he smirked

she felt at ease when the food arrived because it meant they didn’t have to talk that much. every now and then they would look up to each other and smile. it was quiet in the restaurant except for the soft music that was playing in the corner. sean would reach into his pocket a few times to make sure that the ring was still there and go over the speech in his head. he decided he would do it while they were done with dinner but before dinner. y/n noticed his behavior and every time he stopped eating to check inside his pockets, she knew he was going to propose and she had to do it quickly and leave as soon as she could. 

“if you could excuse me, i need to go to the restroom.” she told him as she got up and took her purse with him

“no problem, just be back quick” he smiled at her

y/n dashed towards the bathroom and went straight to the sinks and stood in front of the mirror

“you got this y/n. it’s all you wanted since he started to treat you the way he did. just say what you always wanted to tell him and get the hell out of here. this is all that you’ve wanted, nothing more.” she said to herself while fixing her makeup and hair

walking out, sean came into her view as a new bottle of wine was replacing the old one. she noticed it was an even more expensive brand as she sat down. sean took a deep breath and slid out of his chair and went next to her and crouched down while taking her hands. everyone quickly turned to their direction and began to stare at them

“y/n, this past year has been one of the best years of my life. ever since the day we met at christian and lennon’s wedding, i never thought i would be here proposing to you. you are one of the most beautiful people i have ever met. you are also one of the smartest. you run a business while also being a well i guess a single mother and i’ve never seen someone so strong. so, y/n l/n, will you marry me?” sean asked as he took out the ring 

she had to admit the ring was pretty but she knew she had to say no. she felt everyone’s stares on her as they waited to hear her answer

“sean, you have made my life, but no. i’m sorry”

“no? what do you mean “no”?” 

“i mean, things have changed since we met. i know everything. i know you’re cheating on me with someone else. i know you only want to marry me because you’ll get my bakery and it’ll make you richer. Over the past few months, i’ve been questioning our relationship. you are possibly the worst person i have either dated or hooked up with.” 

at this point everyone stopped what they were doing and focused on the pair

“i should’ve known you weren’t meant for me when you never bothered to call back and i didn’t know what we were for months. i’ve been in love with the wrong person this entire time and i still don’t know what my heart wants. i did mean to sleep with ben on new years. i just dated you because i didn’t think i would be in this situation right now and try to focus on myself. you were too controlling and i couldn’t stand it anymore. i just can’t. and by the way, every single time we had sex, i always faked it and thought of ben because i know he could do so much better and he lasts longer too instead of ejaculating prematurely.” she finished

sean didn’t know what to say  as he stayed on one knee while everyone stared at them. 

“i told you it’s a medical problem.” he whispered to her

“well then honey, you better get it checked out because i’m sure no girl would want someone who doesn't know how to pleasure a woman beforehand.” she breathed out feeling satisfied with herself

“and you know what else? you can go fuck yourself and fuck your family.”

grabbing her clutch, she opened it and grabbed her phone to call an uber. she felt like she was walking on cloud 9 when it all happened. y/n got into her uber and let out a deep sigh as she started to laugh and cry at the same time while her driver just ignored her and didn’t bother to ask her questions.

entering the house as quietly as she could, she took her shoes off and walked into the living room to find ben passed out with an empty beer bottle in his hand and the tv still on. she took the bottle out of his hand and turned off the tv. as soon as the bottle left ben’s hand, he fell onto the couch and continued to sleep. y/n took a few minutes to take in the way ben slept. his hair was already messy, most likely from charlie pulling on it, his mouth partly open, and his soft snores. She left to go to bed and felt like this night would be the first night in a long time where she wouldn’t feel stressed.

[vfenrirsv]

When I die, let the wolves enjoy my bones; When I die, let me go…

I couldn’t even begin to tell you when I last felt like I was myself; when I last felt proud of who I am, or where I came from, or of all the obstacles that I’ve had to overcome in order to get to where I am today.

I was born “Vanessa.” A Gemini, an Air sign, a Horse under Chinese astrology. Coyote is my Totem. Wolf is my Sacred Guide. In Greek the meaning of my name is “Butterfly,” also from Phanessa, the mystic goddess of an ancient Greek brotherhood bent on finding Truth. Various accounts offer the ideas that someone named “Vanessa” bears the qualities of beautiful and strong, and most importantly ‘always tough on the inside.’ To the latter, at least, I can attest.

My Mother, in my infancy, called me “‘Nessa” in affection and “Vanessa-Anne” in ire. If my Father ever called me by any name other than “Baby-girl;” I can’t remember. I don’t remember much about my Father before my early tweens, when I was forced by the courts to spend time with him in an attempt to foster some type of relationship with the man that my Mother had divorced.

In elementary school I was simply “Vanessa.” Straight-A student in all but mathematics, budding lover of arts and crafts, and defender of both my own and my Mother’s honor on the playground when kids teased me about acting like a tomboy, or not having a father.

Throughout secondary school I was largely invisible – called a number of racial slurs, though I never considered any of them my name, even when someone took the time to recognize me; to bully me. Being white in a community predominated by African American and Hispanic families didn’t grant me the illusionary honor of being called anything other than “Cracker” or, “Piglet” since my parents worked in law enforcement.

By then, I didn’t want to be “Vanessa.” I didn’t want to have a name at all. Silence and being invisible was better than being called out for all of the things that I had no control of. It wasn’t my fault that I was born white, or born into a broken home, or the product of two law enforcement officers who sought happiness outside of their careers. In a quickly emerging socio-economic climate where all three of those variables were prescribed as being abhorrent or fundamentally wrong, I was cast adrift to navigate those faults as if I had brought them upon myself by my own hand. “Dealt a bad hand,” as they say; but it didn’t matter. “She’s a tough little thing.”

When I die, you can push me out to sea; When I die, set me free…

I was in fifth grade when I thought about suicide for the first time. Those dark thoughts were the result of climbing onto an overly-full bus to go to school; only to find that the only available seat was being used to hold the book-bags for a trio of African American girls who took one look at me and sneered. I sat on the edge of the seat, careful not to disturb their property; but when the bus turned a corner, and one of their bags fell the floor; they immediately grabbed my hair, punched me in the stomach, and began to degrade me with every slur they could think of. I hated myself and my name for no other reason that it wasn’t socially acceptable to be who I was.

When my mother later confronted the counselor of the school, a robust African American woman herself; she was told something to the effect of “to take her whining child and leave.” The "counselor" never said my name, because to them, I was a nobody. I was invisible.

In high-school I was both “Van” and “’Ness,” depending on how close I was with the person calling my name. I fell into Art and Science, and always kept my nose in a book. I avoided most people like the plague. When I joined the marching band I wore long jackets even in the summer and did my best to ignore the jokes about me being shy, but for the first time in a long time I wasn’t invisible and I wasn’t nameless.

I wasn’t “Vanessa” anymore, I wasn’t the bullied and disgusting child of a single-parent officer. I clung to being “Van.” “Van” was the introverted Artist who hand-made t-shirts for several of her fellow marching band members, and who thrived in studying Marine Biology and Criminal Sciences. I cut my hair and dyed it bright colors. I played soccer in short shorts. I free dived the local haunts in brightly colored bathing suits, and learned to connect to my peers. I got piercings up both of my ears and a tattoo on my back. I stopped wearing clothing to hide within. I grew to trust and love a very small group of people that, to this day – even though I’ve hardly spoken to any of them in years – I still consider my family. “Van” was the antithesis to “Vanessa.” Where “Vanessa” was reclusive, anti-social, and forced to grow up fast, “Van” was vivacious, carefree, and youthful.

Just before my 19th Birthday I met M. Tall, dark, handsome, though 10 years my senior; everything a budding idiot of a young woman would look for in a man – minus the obvious red-flags of him being not-so-separated from his soon-to-be-ex-significant-other and going thru a messy divorce. I saw a man, deliciously off limits, and he saw a young woman unclaimed by any other. When we eventually came together he panted into the naked dip between my shoulders, and between his ragged breaths on the precipice of a climax, the name “Vanessa” – for the first time in years – didn’t make me flinch or shy away.

When I joined the military midway through my first year in college, I was only identified by my last name, as it was barked at me for eight weeks in Boot, and then used as the only true thing that I owned without cost, once I was sent to my duty stations. It was tacked onto my MOS and Rank each time I was reassigned or given a new task. It was efficient, neutral, and impersonal. I grew to be the same. My shipmates called me by rank in the office, and “Van” on shore leave.

Years after; after M’s successful divorce, a couple more of my birthdays, and a few new duty stations, I began to better understand who I was as “Van.” I cultivated myself and thought for sure that this is who I was meant to be, and that I was with the person that I was supposed to be with. I soon learned otherwise. M was man with the world at his feet, divorced, with a young virile military girlfriend, he could do anything his heart desired. He ended up desiring all options that were the opposite of my own. So, true to my name, I tempered the steel within me; handed him back the $10,000 engagement ring he had placed on my finger; and told him “I love you, but now I know that love – sometimes – isn’t enough;” and we separated.

When I die, let the sharks come 'round to feed; When I die, set me free…

When I was honorably discharged from the military I was left adrift to deal with my PTSD and clinical depression. No one called me by my last name anymore. I was a civilian now. I did my best to stay “Van” in all the ways that mattered. I clung to my confidence, my intelligence, my MOS skillset; but I was also now blunt, with a dark sense of humor, and didn’t associate well with people my own age. I was standoffish and curt, expecting the same manner of respect and accountability from my new civilian peers as I had grown accustomed to while in the service. I started asking people to simply call me “V.”

“It’s just easier,” I’d tell people with a smile, but the truth was that I didn’t know who I was anymore.

When I met S, I was still “V.” I was mysterious and adventurous. I was a vixen, a one night stand, a pirate queen who left a trail of broken hearts behind her, a woman out to see the world and maybe watch it burn. I was fun and brutal in equal measures. The military made me sharp, and S was more than rough around the edges. We fell for each other faster that might have been wise, took to one another like melodramatic lovers always do. There was carnal passion and dangerous motorcycle rides down highways at 3AM. There were nights when we wouldn’t speak at all, and it didn’t matter that I didn’t want to have a name, or that his name was all that I would whisper or scream for hours. There were risks of getting caught, of getting pregnant, of getting too attached. There were days when all we would do was talk, and yet for all of our words we would talk about nothing at all. There were days when I knew that I had fallen in love, and nights when I had convinced myself that I didn’t deserve a single bit of it.

When you don’t have a name and don’t care who you’re becoming; it doesn’t matter what happens next. So one day, I left. I made the excuse that I had been offered a job somewhere across the country, that I was going on a vacation, that I was interning with a university out in the desert. It didn’t matter what I said. I was already gone. Lying to myself about why I was cutting the strings became easier the further away I got. Years later, S and I ran into one another; and he fervently admitted that he had been in love with me and had been too stupid to say it. I admitted that I had felt much the same, but had been too broken to allow myself to believe it.

When I die, let the flames devour me; When I die, set me free…

I rounded out many of the sharp edges that the military had left me with by moving back home. I had found employment in the civilian sector that matched closely with my MOS in the military, and I had begun to try and make friends on my off days. Mostly, I spent my free-time outside. I’d kayak or free dive the freshwater rivers in my home region, hike the beach trails or brush-land. I’d camp on the beach some nights or lay in a hammock in the dark of the pinewood on others. My time in the isolation of wilderness taught me how to sit still with my own darkness, and I believed that I would be mentally equipped to handle it.

Then, I stopped looking for myself in nature and started dating. I felt that I was ready. Tough girls move forward, right? That’s how I met J: completely by accident. A friend of my brother’s from the same high school – we had crossed paths more than a few times; with him a football star and me Second Chair in marching band. He called me “Van” and it didn’t strike me as odd, knowing that he knew me from before; when being “Van” meant more than being “V.” We connected, and did well for a time. He got a job as a Deputy and I as a Dispatcher. Things seemed like they were beginning to align. I thought my future was in sight. He said my name with pride and affection when he introduced me to his parents. He breathed life back into the part of me that was both “Van” and “’Ness” and “Vanessa” in equal measures, fixing me with slivers of adoration, challenge, pride, hope, adventure, and affection. We had many of the same interests, he never once stopped showering me in affection, and J could make me feel like the most treasured woman in the room with nothing more than a wink.

Moving in together with his brother and brother’s girlfriend is what killed all of the fragile progress that had been made. I came home from a twelve hour shift one afternoon to his brother’s girlfriend screaming obscenities. I didn’t clean enough. I didn’t follow her rules enough. I wasn’t present enough, or friendly enough. I was too young at the time to understand that she was unhappy with more than just herself, that there were things going on in her life that had nothing to do with me; but all I heard was: “Vanessa” wasn’t good enough to be part of “this family” anymore. They didn’t want anything to do with “Van.” I fell apart, and I was too broken to accurately convey to J what her statements had done to me mentally, what his brother’s silence in the face of those blatantly vindictive statement had done to me. I wasn’t able to convey all of the damage that I believed was irrevocably done.

I closed in on myself and became “V” again. If they didn’t want “Van,” or “’Ness,” or “Vanessa” in their picture-perfect ideations of the familial future, then I’d do them all a favor and leave. So I ended it. Moved into my own place. Started over. “V” didn’t care if she left another broken heart to the surf; didn’t care if starting over caused more harm than good. “Van” began to have the same connotations as “Vanessa.” I was running out of nicknames and letters to remove from my name; as if parceling out portions of my appellation would allow me the illusion that I was – somehow – keeping it all together. I gathered what I had left of myself and pushed forward. If nothing else, I was ‘always tough on the inside,’ right?

When I die, throw my ashes to the breeze; When I die, scatter me…

Later, I met my ex-husband D, an Air Force veteran, and each step in our post-military journey together unknowingly brought us closer to our unavoidable divorce. We both had scars that weren’t truly healing over, and we both had been losing ourselves to our own different demons for years before we met. We both wanted a distraction, someone to fall into on the weekends. He didn’t mind that I wasn’t looking for more than a dalliance, and I was secure in the knowledge that I could use him to chase away the solitude while maintaining my independence. By the time we realized that we were mired in one another it was almost a surprise for both of us to find that our demons played well together. Everything seemed fine, until it wasn’t.

We were always on the move. Influenced by work or family or our own personal goals; we would set out to each new place with hope in our hearts and dreams of bright futures in our minds. We’d drag each other along with us; happy to be in the orbit of the other even if it meant more change. Florida, Georgia, Tennessee. Kentucky, Michigan, Colorado…Each move was a fresh start, right? Each move was a learning opportunity, an adventure, a chance to explore instead of putting down deep roots…

I cannot speak on his behalf, but in my reality, each move brought a new job that I needed to train for, understand, and master; with new titles that I needed to be worthy of, and new responsibilities that I needed to fulfill. Each new apartment complex would be a new contract and a new name that someone would call me by; “206B,” “Mrs. Vanessa,” “Miss Van,” or some hybrid combination of both my and his last name.

By Colorado we no longer wanted the same thing. I hated being “Mrs. Vanessa,” or some last name sphinx-crossbreed. “Mrs. Vanessa” had suddenly become a weekend step-mother to two young boys who neither wanted me or needed me in their lives; and was now the wife of a man who didn’t know what he wanted out of a career or a marriage. “Mrs. Vanessa” found herself far from any semblance of a home, in a relationship that was coming undone at the very seams.

D moved back to his childhood home in Michigan, and I stayed in Colorado. Alone. We were separated for several weeks; trying to figure out how to salvage what we had attempted to build together. Demons play well together until, unsurprisingly, they don’t. The time that we spent separated outnumbered the time that we had been factually married. The distance allowed us to say all of the things that we otherwise wouldn’t have said to each other’s faces. Full disclosure and transparency came at the cost of long distance calls and aggravated re-dials. We yelled. We cried. We drew the venom out of the wounds we’d inflicted upon each other and finally relented. We didn’t attempt marriage counseling.

When the years have torn me apart; Just Let me be…

In an attempt to patch the internal damage, I made friends outside of my job. We started game nights, hosted pot-lucks, explored Colorado, and I was able to truly find kinship in one of my new friends. A fellow Gemini, Air sign, military veteran, person who had lost their path but had managed to find their way. I connected with them, trusted them, and turned to them when I knew that the floundering of my marriage was inevitability going to result in failure. I was branching out, I told myself. It was healthy to make friends and not let myself wallow in the fact that I had failed at being a wife. I buckled down and filed for divorce. “Tough on the inside,” I reminded myself. Always. Tough. On. The. Inside.

Failure makes us vulnerable, and vulnerability leads to poor decisions. On New Year’s Eve in Colorado, leaning on the trust of friendship and the influence of alcohol, I was sexually assaulted by the very friend that I had turned to for support during my divorce. He called me “Vanessa.”

God, I hate that name.

I adopted a cat to quell the gathering dejection, violation, betrayal; the over-abundance of feeling everything and nothing at all, and requested an inter-agency job transfer out of state. I landed in Kansas. The divorce was finalized less than four months from the day I married my ex-husband. I was a newly-wed in August and a Divorcee in December. I forced myself forward and turned over a new page in January of that following year. ToughOnTheInsideGodDammit.

All the world is dark, and I've looked as far as I can see…

This time, I did not seek out friends outside of my job. I kept my relationships professional. I was more willing to hang out with someone from the office in a neutral setting, but would stay home elsewise. I stopped responding to the name “Vanessa” entirely.

Loneliness also makes us vulnerable, but in a different way; and that same vulnerability leads us to do one of two things: Cloister ourselves away and never interact with people again, or Muster up enough courage to try new things. I chose Option #2: I joined some dating websites. I met men and women alike, and I began to grow more confident in my skin. I was “Van” again and I liked who I was becoming. I was independent and I wasn’t allowing myself to crumble beneath the weight of everything that I had been through. As my namesake, I was determined to be tough on the inside.

Being strong and independent and courageous led me to J. He didn’t mind that I was imperfect, didn’t balk at my scars or my demons, and didn’t shy away from my past. J had a past of his own, had made mistakes of his own, had a life of lessons learned and adventures had of his own; so it didn’t seem so scary to open myself up again. To be someone more than “V.” He promised the world; a future with deep seated roots, the dream of a home, a family. I believed him. Like an idiot, I believed him. We married. We vowed to cleave to one another alone, to put each other before ourselves, to love each other unconditionally; to battle the world together. We swore to cherish and adore one another, to build a life together and never take each other for granted.

I try. I try so fucking hard. When I feel ignored, I buckle down and swallow it. When I feel stressed I keep it in to prevent stressing him out more than he claims he already is.

He calls me “Beautiful” and “The Best Thing to Ever Happen to Him,” but follows these hollow words with casual indifference and gentle disregard. He doesn’t abuse me, but he doesn’t cherish me either. He speaks of me with pride when he talks to his family; but does not stand up for or defend me when his Step-Mother disparages me and belittles my actions. “Babe,” he calls me “This is just how she is with everyone. You’re Amazing.” I am supposed to be content with that. I am supposed to be content with sitting in silence, hailed as “amazing,” or “beautiful,” or “the best.” Hollow words echo in silence. Distort. Sound false. Do not bear weight in their worthlessness.

I realize that I don’t even know the last time he has called me by name and meant it…Maybe it was the day we got married. Maybe it was the day he proposed. Maybe it was our second date...

I try harder. When I feel neglected I go out of my way to do things for him that would please him; I cook his favorite meals, I wear alluring lingerie, I clean the entire house and make sure that he doesn’t have to lift a finger after work. When all else fails I reach out to his best friend to ask for advice on what I can do to make things easier, better, for my husband. I set aside my own embarrassment at having to ask for insight from someone else, instead of getting the answers from my own husband’s mouth, as to why he doesn’t seem to want me anymore. “It’s not you, Babe,” he says. It’s difficult to stay tough on the inside when “It’s not you,” echoes hollow and sounds more like “I don’t have a reason.”

When we disagree, he calls me by my full name, tacking on his last name at the end, as if in joking-jest; as if calling me anything other than some form of dead endearment will lend seriousness to his statements. “I promise,” he says. “I love you,” he says. I am not angry that his words hold no meaning or value anymore. I am just angry that I can no longer trust anything he says. I am angry that more often than not there are no words at all, just furious silence.

When I die, just let me be…

I am angry that I have allowed myself to become this nameless, hopeless, loveless thing. I am not even “V,” at this point. I don’t even know who I am anymore.

The wife I have become is a meaningless thing. What communication can be had between a wife who tries best to express her feelings and desires to a husband who reacts with anger and frustration when faced with the truth? What future can be had when a husband will not be intimate with his wife? What value do a husband’s words have when each promise is broken, when there is no follow-through on simple tasks of keeping a home, fostering a relationship, or growing a friendship?

“Nessa” and “Vanessa-Anne” in equal measures, had been emotionally bruised by the divorce of her parents; learning early in life that sometimes letting go is the best option. “Vanessa” was poisoned by the realization that your name means nothing to those who take one look at you and refuse to learn who you truly are on the inside. Both “Van” and “’Ness” learned the fragile existence of friendship, and the aching stab of loneliness that comes after you open your heart to a select few only to grow apart from them for no other reason than life gets in the way. “Van” was sullied by the painful growth out of adolescence and the realization that love just isn’t enough. “V” was grown in cynicism, the desperate child of PTSD and depression, and knew the devastation and loss that comes with refusing to make bonds with other human beings.

When I die, let the wolves enjoy my bones; When I die, just let me go…

So who am I now? I’m not even sure the wolves would know.

Daylight is waiting for you…

_________________________

“Who Am I?” by Vann Fenrirs Volchitsa, Author

“Wolves” by Down Like Silver, Lyrics

[s7-evermore]

𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐄 [Preview]

↳ 𝔽𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕠𝕞: Ikemen Vampire x Ikemen Revolution 

↳ 𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕣𝕖/𝕤: Slice of life(?), misc... 

↳ ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕣: Sekiguchi Gin (OC)

↳ ℕ𝕠𝕥𝕖𝕤: I will be using some ikemen revolution characters as normal people in this story. Most of them will be around Gin’s age here or older...

𝔻𝕖𝕤𝕔𝕣𝕚𝕡𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟:

After the death of her grandfather, 15-year-old Gin is left in the hands of a mysterious relative of hers. He goes by the name Comte de Saint-Germain and he tells her everything that has been left unsaid between her and her grandfather...

[ GIN ]

𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞, I never saw things the same way other people did. Some say it's a blessing, some may say it's a curse, but along the way, I lost the idea of what those two words meant. The sky was especially blue today, not completely devoid of clouds, perhaps only small wisps of them, like the left behind cotton candy lingering in the cotton candy machine. They looked sweet just like them, drifting ever so slowly with the pace of the sun. 

I watched silently as people passed by, particles in different colors and shapes trailing behind them, lingering on their clothing or on their skin. The scent of the flowers on my front lawn was carried away by the wind, to the bees, and to the nostrils of my neighbor and his dog. 

My kind neighbor gazed at me with a sympathetic expression, but I paid no attention to it. I think I've had enough with receiving those kinds of looks now.

I sat outside the house I have now been living in alone for a few days since Gramps' death. I was waiting for someone, but I didn't know who.

Well, not exactly. I've seen Gramps writing and exchanging letters with him several times before. I never looked into those letters or read them at all whenever Gramps accidentally left them on the dining room table. But I remember how those letters looked from a distance. Cursive words were neatly written with elegant penmanship, matching the stationery it was inscribed on. 

To me, it looked like Gramps was exchanging words with someone from another time. Someone who was still stuck in the past, writing letters instead of emails, sending long messages through paper instead of simply DMing him. 

Gramps told me this person was a distant relative of mine on my father's side, which made me curious every time. I barely knew anything about my father, other than the fact that he was always craving for adventure, so much that he just... disappeared. 

I don't even remember much of my mother's face. Sometimes I hear her singing to me, the song was a blur, but I remember the tone of her voice, so tender and sweet. I only remember the way her hair flowed in the wind because we had the same hair color, but that was about it. Most of my childhood memories were hazy recollections of my mother and most of them were only about my grandfather and me. 

Gramps was probably the only one I had most memories of. I could remember almost every little thing about him. He would play songs from his old record player whenever we did spring cleaning once a week in the afternoon. His usual breakfast was avocado toast, eggs, and cheese paired with apple juice, and sometimes he'd make me the same meal when I said I didn't mind. 

He had a large study of his own, but I never went in it because I wanted to respect his privacy. I've snuck a few glances whenever he left the door slightly ajar, and I would see his scratched mahogany desk and his old reading lamp sitting on the corner of it. I remembered the tall shelf of books on the other side of the room, as well as the old grandfather clock whose hands were frozen in time. 

Gramps kept grandma's old china in a glass cupboard that I never bothered to touch, I always left Gramps to clean it because I never trusted myself with antiques like that. Also because next to that cupboard was a stash of his favorite sake, and I automatically knew I wasn't allowed to touch those. 

I remember the times when he would drop me off and pick me up from school, he would always tell me old jokes that we'd both laugh at. He always laughed hard when it came to jokes, he'd laugh harder at his own. 

I remember the times when I'd come home late after hanging out with my friends. He would always leave me dinner and he would either be asleep or working and writing in his study. Gramps never cared about who I made friends with as long as they weren't bad enough to make me commit crimes or murder someone. As long as I knew what I was doing, then he didn't mind what I did. Perhaps that was his way of letting me know that he respected my privacy too as I did with his. 

Gramps was basically the only family I thought I had, that was until a few months ago when he told me he'd reached out to an old friend of his, which happened to be the relative from my father's side. He told me he was from France, but he never truly told me his name. Gramps called him 'Comte' and said that was the only name most people referred to him by. 

I remembered my 14th birthday. Gramps received another letter from this Comte that night and told me it had come with a package for me. Although I knew it was from a stranger (that I now referred to as my distant relative who I had no idea even existed), I was excited to open it the moment Gramps said it was for me. When I unraveled the silk blue ribbon, I was astonished to find a golden butterfly hairclip resting against a velvet cushion, gleaming bright with opulence inside the cream white box. 

Gramps was the one who clipped it on my head the next day when I was preparing for school, he even told me not to take it off or ruin it as it was obviously expensive. So, I never did. I never took it off unless I had to take a shower or sleep. I always kept the hairpin near, in my bag, or tucked safely in my pocket. I cleaned it every now and then too, to maintain its gleam. 

Until now, as I waited, I felt the butterfly pin clipped on my hair. I wonder if this Comte guy would notice it?

Averting my eyes away from the sky once again, I look at the large rolled luggage next to me, filled with things I considered 'necessary', and the large guitar case that once belonged to my mother sitting next to it. 

You go through life thinking you need a lot. I thought the same thing when I was thinking about what to pack. Clothes for spring, summer, autumn, winter, a small collection of my favorite mangas and books, the cute stationery I've been collecting over the years, my favorite anime figurines and nendroids, and useless notebooks with stories surreal enough to consider a child's...

But the longer I let my mind roam, the more I realized that everything I deemed necessary didn't seem as important to me now as it was before. I remember taking all those things out of my travel luggage and shoved in the only few clothes I thought was my favorite, the scarf Gramps made for me when I was twelve, the two albums of CDs that I bought over the years with the money I saved, the CD player and the pair of headphones he bought for me during my 14th birthday (it was adorable. Some people would consider that word to be the last thing you'd call an elderly man, but how could he not be when he tried so hard to search about modern trends just to know what a typical teenager like me would like?), my switch, my wallet, and my phone, my camera, and a photo of my mother. 

I was only fifteen, and in the future half of these things might be useless to me, but I just had to keep them as a reminder that I did have a good childhood. One that I would be willing to look back on when I'm old enough. 

As for everything else, I will leave them as pieces of me. I thought that maybe leaving behind things I owned would be evidence that I lived in this house, alongside my grandfather and the memories he had before me. 

I previously thought that it would be too soon for me to get used to not having Gramps in my life. I was aware of the fact that someday, I'm gonna have to live life alone, perhaps start a new family if I was allowed to. Until now, I still couldn't get used to the foreign feeling of having him gone.

I saw the signs that foreshadowed events of my soon-to-be solitary life, but I thought if I innocently ignored them, they wouldn't happen so soon. 

Of course, I knew about his sickness. Despite my intelligence, I tried to keep hoping that he would at least be alive to see me grow into an adult, to send me to college, or even live long enough to see me get married like he did, like my mother did. I noticed the whites in his eyes getting yellower. I noticed his usually tanned skin getting paler and paler. 

I saw the bloody handkerchiefs he stuck into jars. Whenever I did the laundry, I took them out of there and removed the stains like it was the most natural thing. I recalled his lessons on stain removal, not just on clothes but on various things such as carpets, rugs, or even curtains. I folded those handkerchiefs like they hadn't been tainted with blood moments ago. I acted like he was still okay, like he was taking care of himself. 

But it all backfired in the end.

...

In front of my house stops an opulent car, causing me to immediately straighten up as I freed myself from the thoughts that plagued my mind. I narrowed my eyes suspiciously, my brows twitching when I spotted a man dressed in fine clothing stepping out of the car. 

Almost everything about him felt 'out-of-this-world'. His suit was obviously in the style of 18th-19th century European fashion, but it felt somehow modern that he stood out enough to be mistaken for an actor who had the role of a nobleman (the kind you see in anime or in dramas). His hair seemed to shine like specks of gold under the sun. His eyes were just shrouded with mystery, the kind that makes you think he had already seen everything, from the beginning of time up to the day earth is shattered by an asteroid. 

To conclude, he looked like a man straight out of a drama, and I never thought I'd live long enough to meet such a person. 

I slid my headphones around my neck as he approached me with a gentle smile, the kind that could mean a lot of things other than 'kindness'. I knew he was being genuine with his actions, but it was the constant wariness that I felt around other people that made me think otherwise. Things that don't appear to be what they truly are throw me off, I forgot if I was ever like this before.

He looked human, but he didn't feel like it. 

The man crouched in front of me. I was sitting on one of the steps, clutching tightly on the CD player in my hands. 

His gaze softens as he speaks, "You must be Gin."

I nod, "Yeah. Are you... Comte?"

I’ve been thinking about posting this for a while now, though I think it will mostly end up being a series of random one-shot stories of my OC interacting with IkeVamp and IkeRev characters. Since Gin is only fifteen (15), her relationship with the ikevamp characters will remain platonic, their interactions are going to be a brother/sister kind of thing. 

Such is not the case with the ikerev suitors though. Like I mentioned in the notes, they will be around Gin’s age. 

Also, if you still can’t tell, Gin has a type of synesthesia that allows her to see smells or scents as small shapes and colors.

[livsoulsecrets]

Nicotino College AU - Chapter 21: Mom

Masterpost

Previous Chapter

Summary: Niccòlo attends the music school and is friends with Filippo, who started helping at the photography course after getting famous for his lgbtq+ activism as a photographer and youtuber. Marti is studying journalism in the same university and is convinced by Filippo to attend the photography course mister Boccia and Filippo himself are offering. Marti turns out to be terrible at it and needs Nico’s help to make a perfect final project to get approved.

June 19th

📱-> Marti

📱-> Marti’s Tweet

📱-> Marti’s Instagram post

📱-> Nico’s Instagram post

20:39

Marti would be lying if he said he wasn’t a bit nervous about this dinner. He was being honest when he told his mom he was happy for her, but it was still a completely new situation that he didn’t know how to handle. His mother had never had anyone after the divorce, so even though he really liked Lorenzo, Marti was still afraid his mom would get hurt again.

He stopped in front of the door of his mom’s apartment and knocked on it. His mom quickly opened it, pulling him into a hug.

— Hey, mom, I don’t think I can breathe. — Anna laughed against Marti’s neck and pulled away a bit.

— Always the dramatic. — She joked back, caressing his check before taking him to the couch. — Lorenzo will be here at anytime. — The woman put a strand of hair behind her ear and her voice trembled a bit, but Marti acted as if he didn’t notice.

— That is great, mom. Like I told you, I already like him. — Anna took Marti’s hand in hers and smiled.

— I know I told you this before as well, but thank you again. You know you are the most important person in my life, right? — Anna repeated the same words she said to Marti on the day he came out to her, making the boy smile at the memories.

— I know it, mom, of course I do. You deserve to be happy with somebody that treats you the way you deserve to be treated. — Marti knew his mom was afraid of being any less of the amazing mother she had always been simply for doing something for herself, but he refused to let her believe in it for even a second. — And you know you are a great mother, right? You have always been.

— Always? I don’t know if I believe in that, Martino. — The way her voice shook broke Marti’s heart.

— You should, especially since my opinion is the only one that really counts here, am I right? — Anna laughed a bit, shaking her head at him.

— Well, I can’t fight this logic of yours. — She gave in, some tears escaping her eyes.

— Good. I won’t let you think you are being selfish for doing what you want and living for yourself. I want you to be happy, mom.

— I know. And I am, I promise you that. It means the world to me you see things this way. — Anna kisses him in the cheek and Marti smiles at her, holding her hand tight. — But that is enough about me, tell me about you. What have you been doing lately? How is college? — Anna asks, wiping the tears away, sitting up to pay better attention to Marti.

— Well, it has been crazy, but I actually like my course despite all the sleep hours it makes me lose. And, well, I have been taking those photography classes, the ones Filo was helping with. — Anna was listening attentively, like she always did, and Martino couldn’t help but wonder how he got so lucky to have her in his life.

— Oh, I remember it, he was really excited about it.

— Tell me about it, he convinced me to attend it. If I’m going to be honest, it was a real disaster. Mister Boccia is a great guy, but I’m pretty sure he considered murdering me after all the times I failed his lessons. — Anna let out a laugh, giving him a side look that should be of disapproval. — Anyway, I’m working on my final project now. It has to be perfect to get me an amazing grade that will make me pass this subject. The good thing about all of this is that now I know better than to listen to Filippo about, well, anything. — Marti joked and Anna playfully pushed his shoulder, shaking her head in disfavor. She had always liked Filippo a lot, being almost protective of him most of the time.

Marti couldn’t blame her, since Filo made a colossal effort to cause a good impression on her. At first, Martino thought he was just doing it to be annoying and throw at Marti’s face the fact Anna adored him. It took Marti a while to realize how Filo’s relationship to his own mother was distant to make sense of his friend’s actions.

Filippo’s mom loved him, of course, but she was never really around. She called sometimes and cared about him, yet Marti couldn’t say she was present. The little he knew about her came from the few times Filo shared about his childhood, about her missing school meetings, his photography expositions, even some of his birthdays. Filo’s mom was too cold at times, so being around Anna, who was so caring, that always put such an effort at being there for Marti, seemed to help Filippo heal from some of his bad experiences when it came to parents.

— Speaking of Filo, you are not gonna believe who he is dating! — Marti grinned, excited to share the news with his mom in first hand.

— Oh, I know it already. I was just as surprised as you, trust me. But I do think Elia and Filo are a good match, I’m always telling those two they need to take things more seriously, after all.

— What? How do you know it? — Marti asked, narrowing his eyes in confusion.

— Filo told me over the phone some days ago, he sounded very happy. — Of course he did, Marti thought, shaking his head with laughter.

— Damn it, I really thought I would beat him with the news. — Marti threw himself at the couch, dramatically.

— And what about you? — Anna questioned, suggestively raising an eyebrow at him.

— I can assure you I’m not dating Filo nor Elia, if that is what you meant. — Marti answered, hoping that would distract his mom, but Anna was irreducible.

— You know it isn’t.

— Yeah, I do. — Marti looked away from his mom, staring at the turned off TV as if it was the most interesting thing in the living room. — Well, it is a bit of complicated. I don’t really know what it is right now.

— Okay, is it good though? — Anna asked, making Marti’s head snap back in her direction to find his mom’s chin resting in her hand, like she usually does when she is trying to get a particular difficult answer from Marti.

— It is really, really good. — Marti smiled involuntary at the mere thought of Nico, which didn’t go unnoticed by Anna.

— Well, that is all I need to know, then. — She said, reaching out with her hand to fix a bit of the hair that was falling in his eyes. — Actually, I kind of need to know his name, maybe… Even see a picture if that is not asking too much. — Marti laughed at his mom’s excitement, wide eyed. — Oh, don’t look at me like this. You usually run from my questions about your love life, you can’t blame me from trying to get more details when I finally have the opportunity!

— I would never, mom. — Marti held his hands up in surrender before turning to his mom, a bit more serious. — His name is Nico. Well, it is Niccòlo, actually, but everybody calls him Nico. — He let the part of Marti calling him Ni out because it was a bit too personal, which was also totally out of brand for Martino. — He studies music at the same university I go to, is friends with Filippo and is helping me with my final project.

— Ow, an artist? — Anna smiled at him, impressed.

— Yeah, I was surprised too. — Marti wasn’t completely joking and his mother could tell.

— Well, I really like his name. It is beautiful. Just like him, I assume? — Anna wondered, tilting her head a bit and Marti took it as a cue to take his phone out, giving up on trying to argue his way out of this. He opened his photo gallery and stumbled over the last photo he had taken with Nico.

They were at a Burger King close to the park Nico had taken him this afternoon. Despite the creepy appearance that made Marti feel like he was in a horror movie, the place turned out to be really pleasing. Nico had told him that was his thanks for what Marti had done in the day before, staying by his side the whole day when he was feeling down.

Nico hadn’t told him what caused his mood change, but Marti was okay with it. He could tell there was something Niccòlo wanted him to know, but the boy clearly wasn’t ready to share yet, so he wouldn’t push. All that mattered is that Nico was doing better today. That is what he told Nico, making sure he understood there was no need of saying thanks for what Marti had done.

Nico still stood by his point, so Marti just rolled his eyes and pulled him up from the bench, kissing him softly. He offered they went out to get some food in the Burger King he saw some blocks before.

They had taken the picture right after they finished eating, Nico being the one who pulled him his phone from his hands, insisting he had to register the day he convinced Martino to wear the “ridiculous crowns”. Marti never regretted saying anything as much as he regretted those two words, especially because he knew Nico would never let go of it.

Still, it wasn’t Marti’s fault that his brain melted every time Nico looked at him with such a playful smile, like he did when they got the crowns from an employee. Nico seemed to know that, so it didn’t take much more convincing for Martino to agree to the selfie. As a revenge, he once again did the hand thing Nico claimed to hate, but secretly found adorable, like Marti very well knew.

— Wow, he really is beautiful. — Anna complimented, a smile emerging in her face. — And you both look really happy.

— Thank you, mom. I think we are.

— You think?

— Yeah, well, Nico wasn’t doing very well yesterday, but he seemed to be a lot better today. I guess I just hate not being able to help when somebody I care about is not okay. There was not much I could do besides just being there. But the things is… That we are really good together. And, I don’t know, I think we’re off to a good start anyway.

— Oh, I’m glad he is better and that you two are being good for each other. — Anna was very serious when she turned to face Marti, her voice firm. — And, you know what, Marti? In my experience, sometimes, just being there is everything you need to do. It is more than enough to make things a bit more bearable. Especially if we are talking about somebody as kind as you. — Anna’s words made Marti speechless, he didn’t know what to say after that, so he just kissed his mom’s hand in a silent gesture of gratitude.

The doorbell rang at that very moment, announcing Lorenzo had arrived. Anna quickly got up, fixing her dress.

— We will talk more about Nico latter, don’t even try to run, okay? And about this final project of yours. — Anna said, leaving no room for discussion with her cheerful smile, heading to the door right after.

Marti was okay with it. His mom deserved all the answers she wanted, after all.

Next Chapter

[i-will-physically-fight-you]

If Only In My Dreams Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Please Come Home for Christmas (I'm Feeling Blue Without You Here)

Chapter Summary: Patton is struggling through a season of loneliness after being the only one of his friends to stay in their hometown after high school graduation. He can’t wait to reconnect with his best friend Virgil, who is coming down to Florida for Christmas break. Except, it grows increasingly apparent that might not be the case anymore.

Pairings: platonic prinixety & platonic moxiety

Word-count: 3106

Warnings: abusive parents, homesickness, misunderstandings, crying, loneliness, hurt/comfort

Inspiration:  this ask right here

AO3 LINK, Chapter 1 , Chapter 3

I can’t believe I forgot to post this on tumblr! Again, this is a part of the winter bang hosted by @sanderssidesbang. Many thanks to them for hosting this and also thank you to the lovely @theeternalspace for beta’ing this for me <3

If you asked Patton Hart whether he preferred either the cold or the heat, his response would be the same if one had asked whether he liked cats or dogs the best.

“Both!” He would cheerfully say, rocking back and forth on his feet before explaining his reasoning, “I like the cold because you get to drink hot chocolate and wear warm sweaters! Back in Minnesota my house was on a hill and my siblings and I sled down the driveway all the time after it snowed.  I also like when it’s hot outside also because you get to go to the beach and play in the water and make sandcastles--oh! And eat popsicles! Cherry’s my favorite popsicle flavor! What’s yours?”

Patton was prone to rambling, jumping from topic to topic and making connections that might seem unrelated to an outside perspective. It was one of the many symptoms stemming from Patton’s ADHD.

Patton was a glass half full kind of a guy, and that was applicable when it came to his thoughts concerning ADHD. He liked to think that hypo-focus was his superpower that allowed him to concentrate and get tasks done. Just like all super powers, however, there was weaknesses that came with it. Such as hypo-focusing on cartoons instead of doing his homework.

Imagining himself as a superhero who needed to defeat the evils of Homework to save the city helped direct his energy in a more productive manner. Sure, maybe it was a bit childish, but he still very much felt like a child at heart. It was wild to think in a few months on his birthday it’d be a year since he had become a legal adult on his eighteenth birthday. Shucks, he had a hard time not referring to other older adults with a Mr. or Mrs. in front of their name. It felt wrong!

But that wasn’t the biggest thing he was struggling with in his new-found adulthood. It was the aftermath of high school, where all his friends scattered to the four winds. They all promised to keep in contact, that they’d remain best friends forever. But Patton knew how it went, having gone through something similar when he and his family moved from Minnesota to Florida when he was twelve.

Everyone promised they’d keep in contact, but sooner or later the text messages and emails would stop coming. Patton knew that there wasn’t anything malicious behind it. People, including himself, got busy with their own lives. It was natural for friends to drift apart with diverged interests and increased distances.

So it wasn’t a big surprise when the fall semester started and communication with his old high school friends drastically dropped. As they started university, they all became busy with school and work and new friends--and well, there wasn’t any room for poor Patton who stayed home and attended community college.

There was nothing inherently wrong with attending community college of course. It was a more affordable way of education, with many of the classes on the same level as both the private and state universities. There was just an unfortunate stigma surrounding it. Patton lost track of how times people asked him why wasn’t he attending a real college or telling him he was missing out on the true college experience.

He was lonely, he hated to admit it, but he was. Virgil once asked him if he ever understood the feeling of being lonely in a sea of people. He hadn’t, at the time. But now, he understood. Patton went from his early morning classes to work at the mall back to home and slept until he started his routine all over the next day. All the while he was surrounded by people, but people are different than friends.

Patton tried making new friends among his work and school, but he wasn’t stupid. He could read the atmosphere enough to know what they thought of him. He was too loud, too flighty, too childish . Sometimes they actually verbally expressed this.

It caused Patton to spiral further into his hyper-fixations as a coping method. But even his favorite shows wasn’t enough compared to actual human interaction.

That was why he was ecstatic when Virgil told him he was going to be in Florida for the break. Out of all his friends, he’d kept in contact with Virgil the most. It made sense--they’d been best friends for years. Sending memes and cute animal videos had become their primary method of communication. The latter was mainly Patton, but Virgil sent the occasional one. He always seemed to know just when Patton needed them, too. Their schedules didn’t mesh well, but they tried to face-time one another whenever they could. If he was being honest, those snippets of contact with Virgil was the only things that kept him sane through a stressful semester and drama at his workplace.

He hadn’t admitted to Virgil that he was lonely. He couldn’t do that, when Virgil was over a thousand miles away from home in an unfamiliar setting. Patton knew how that felt--he’d at least had his family, Virgil had no one. He was completely surrounded by strangers. Patton didn’t feel like it was fair for him to complain when he at least had stayed in the same town of the high school they’d graduated from and there was still familiar faces around.

So he kept it to himself, slipping back into old habits by keeping a smile on and skirting around the topic. Some part of him wanted Virgil to be suspicious, to demand the truth. But he knew it was unfair of him to think that way when he’d deceived Virgil in the first place. No matter how many justifications Patton tried to tack on, at the end of the day it was just that.

Virgil and him planned to spend what felt like practically Virgil’s entire stay together, starting directly after Christmas. Patton was bouncing in excitement at the thought of it. He was finally going to see his best friend again, after going months unable to meet face to face. He was going to be able to actually hug Virgil instead of sending text messages with GIFs as a poor substitute to the real thing.

Except it was December 27th, and there was no hide nor hair of Virgil Raine in the town of Loving, Florida.

He stared at the last text sent to him by Virgil, trying not to sniffle. It was from December 19th, a couple days before Virgil’s flight was scheduled to leave. It wasn’t anything meaningful, really. Just a mundane text about the weather.

🌩️ Virgil 🌩️: I saw some snow flurries on my way home from work today.

Patton sighed, scrolling down a bit through his own replies.

Patton Hart💙: Ooo exciting! Florida still hasn’t gotten the memo that summer is over--it was almost in the eighties today!

Patton Hart💙: [Image Attached: It was a photo of Patton grinning as he held up a potato chip]

Patton Hart💙: I value our friend-chip

Patton Hart💙: Hey Virge, I heard about the nasty winter storms up north--did your flight get canceled? I hope you’re somewhere safe! <3

Patton Hart💙: Merry Christmas! 🎅🎄🎁

Patton Hart 💙:  ...Virgil are you okay? Are we still on for Mel’s today?

There was a half page more of his own messages, but still none from Virgil himself. It was normal for communication to go silent for a few days due to the busyness of life. But he started having an uneasy feeling when Virgil didn’t respond after the first few messages he sent. That feeling only worsened when he tried calling Virgil yesterday and it went right to voicemail.

Patton always tried seeing the positives in life. Virgil was rather the opposite. He often saw only the negativities in life. Their friendship was one of an immovable object meets an unstoppable force. No one expected the social butterfly to make friends with the antisocial emo. Especially the latter. But Patton never let others’ expectations dictate how he acted, or rather who he was.

Patton was just Patton--he didn’t try to be what others wanted him to be. He felt it was unfair to both others and himself if he tried pretending to be something he wasn’t. So when the kids at his lunch table started snickering about the “creep all alone in the corner,” Patton didn’t join in. He stood up with his lunch tray and marched over there. The creep in question was a seventh grader just like Patton. He didn’t look scary like the others said. If anything, he looked scared with the way his shoulders were hunched in and he avoided eye contact. His figure was swallowed up by a hoodie two sizes too large for him.

“Hi!” Patton grinned, “My name’s Patton, mind if I join you?”

The other only grunted, avoiding direct eye contact with Patton.

It wasn’t a no, so Patton sat down and began talking. The other preteen only made the occasional grunt to let him know he was listening to Patton. It was like that for the whole week. Patton would ask to sit with him, and hold one-way conversations--never pushing for the other to talk.

Patton never minded. He talked enough for two whole people, after all. He sat with the kid to keep him company, to let him know he wasn’t alone.

On Friday of that week, the bell rang signaling the end of lunchtime and Patton stood up from the table.

“Well, see you later, kiddo!” Patton said. He walked a few paces when he heard the kid murmur something. He stopped abruptly, turning around to face the other kid.

“What’d you say?” He asked, unable to contain his excitement.

“M-my name. It’s Virgil.” The kid in the hoodie stammered, taking Patton’s excitement to mean something else.

Patton’s eyes widened. He hadn’t known his name until this moment. He tried asking him once, but let it drop after it clearly made him uncomfortable.

He’d referred to the other as just “kiddo”. It was a strange habit leftover from his toddler years when he was still learning how to speak. His father had so often used the word in reference to Patton and his siblings, that baby Patton had started calling everyone young and old kiddo.

This continued in elementary school where he’d often play the Dad when the girls his age played House. He liked pretending to be a Dad, because it meant he got impersonate his father--who was a hero in his eyes. He wasn’t fond of the more violent make-believe games that the other little boys liked to play. The girls were much nicer and considerate, even when they played games like Warriors Cats.

Sometimes, other kids had made fun of Patton calling others “kiddo.” Patton tried his best to ignore their taunts.

He had tried imagining what the boy in the hoodie’s real name was in the span of the few short days they’d known each other. Virgil wasn’t one of the names he’d guessed, it was different...but he liked different. It fit the boy in the ways Patton’s imagined names hadn’t.

“Virgil. I like it.” Patton grinned, “see you later, Virgil.”

They’d continued hanging out during lunch, and eventually outside of lunch and even school. Their friendship stayed strong into high school. Patton was there for Virgil during what happened in high school the same way Virgil was there for Patton during his break-up senior year. The two had been together through thick and thin.

Only...things were different since the two had separated. Patton knew it would happen, but it didn’t change how much it hurt. He spent almost six years as Virgil’s best friend, seeing him on a daily basis. He hadn’t seen Virgil since before he left in late July for school.

If there was one thing the two had in common, it was that they both didn’t like change.

Virgil told him things were fine over there. But what if he was lying just as much as Patton was? What if things weren’t fine?

Patton generally kept his chin up even in the most difficult circumstances. But he couldn’t help but feel dread and concern about what had happened to Virgil. He wasn’t responding to any of Patton’s texts or calls.

His mind kept going back to the terrible winter storm and wondered if it held any implications about Virgil’s whereabouts. Patton grew up in Minnesota. He knew how dangerous storms could be. This was Virgil’s first winter in a northern state--what if he was caught unaware by the storm and something bad happened?

It might not be that , a small voice in the back of his head said, he might’ve broke his phone or something.

But if he broke his phone, he would’ve tried contacting you some other way . Another voice argued.

He’d at last gathered enough courage to call Virgil’s mom and ask about him.

Patton tapped his fingers nervously against his desk while the phone dialed.

“Hello?”

“Hi Mrs. Raine!” Patton said, mustering as much warmth into his voice as possible, “It’s Patton here. I was wondering if Virgil’s home? We were planning to get together over the break but he hasn’t been responding to any--”

“I’m sorry,” Virgil’s mother briskly interrupted, “but Virgil isn’t here. He’s still up in Massachusetts.”

“W--what?” Patton asked. It shouldn’t have been such a surprise. So why did it feel like he was getting slapped in the face with a fish? Not a dead fish, mind you, but a wiggling very much alive fish that didn’t want to collide with your face anymore than you did.

“I said, he’s still in Massachusetts, honey.” She repeated her words, Southern gush in full force.

Patton liked the friendliness of Florida, but he wasn’t a fan of the “Bless your heart” Southerners that inhabited parts of Florida. He hated when people pretended to be nice when they were really being passive-aggressive. Patton preferred out-right honesty above all.

He’d never gotten good vibes off of either of Virgil’s parents. Even though they always acted like the model parents to Virgil in front of Patton. Virgil had a hard time sharing things even after Patton gained his trust. But the things he did share, made Patton question if they were truly good people or not.

“Can I ask why he’s still in Massachusetts? Did something bad happen?” Patton asked, once he regained his voice.

“Oh heavens no!” She laughed, “His flight was canceled by bad weather and all the next available flights were booked up. Virgil and us agreed it’d better if he just stayed there and saved his money--with last minute flights being expensive and all.”

That...didn’t sound right to Patton. Who didn’t want to see their child for the holidays--even if they happened to miss Christmas? The holidays was a time of fellowship with friends and family. Wouldn’t anyone move heaven and earth so that their child could be with them? It wasn’t like Virgil’s family was hurting for money, either. They had more than enough money to fund Virgil’s college education as well as go on a few cruise trips a year.

Later on, he’d wished he would have given her a piece of his mind. But in the moment he’d been too shocked to say anything of the sort.

“Oh, I see. I guess I was just really worried since he hasn’t responded to any of my texts in like a week. Do you know if he broke his phone or something?” Patton laughed awkwardly. Virgil’s mother didn’t join in.

“No, I don’t think so. I bet he’s been hanging out with his friends all week that he’s been too busy to respond to your text.”

Patton’s breath hitched. That could be a possibility, couldn’t it? It wasn’t like Virgil wasn’t allowed to have friends other than Patton. But would he really do that to Patton? Ignore him completely to go hang out with his new friends? That wasn’t like Virgil at all.

People changed a lot in five months. But they didn’t change that much, did they?

Admittedly those words had been uttered by Virgil’s mother, out of all people. Who knew if that was the truth. But whether knowingly or unknowingly, those words had pierced his heart. Patton was too emotional to think logically about it.

Quickly he thanked Virgil’s mother before ending the call. Which what led him to now, staring at his and Virgil’s text conversation. Tears blurred his vision. Should he send another text? He didn’t want Virgil to be annoyed by him being too clingy. He didn’t want to lose what little remained of their friendship.

Yet at the same time, he couldn’t handle the fading friendships where both pretended everything was fine, that their friendship wasn’t dying. He’d done enough of those during this year. He couldn’t do it with Virgil, his bestest friend.

Patton Hart 💙: Hey kiddo...are we still friends?

Patton Hart 💙: It’s okay if we aren’t!! I know how you are, Virge, you don’t have to feel obligated to remain friends. Seasons come and go, y’know? Not everything lasts...and that’s okay. I still cherish every memory we spent together. But if you want me to stop meownoying you with texts, I’ll understand.

Except, despite those words he sent to Virgil, he was a huge freaking hypocrite. He sat there, flitting with the pop socket on his phone, sobbing. Loud, ugly sobs. He was thankful he was alone in his family’s house so he could suffer in solitude.

He didn’t want to lose Virgil even more than he hadn’t wanted to lose any of his other friends. Virgil was his best friend, after all. They’d done everything together. Patton knew sooner or later he’d be able to make new friends. This season of loneliness wouldn’t last forever. But knowing something didn’t mean his feelings ceased from existence.

People always placed romance having more importance over friendships. But Patton, having gone through a breakup, couldn’t understand that view. Relationships and friendships were equated in his mind. Friends were important. Often the best romantic relationships start off as friendships. He’d prefer friends, even if it meant never loving in that way again.

Once he finished crying for the most part, he went downstairs, clutching a blanket over his shoulders. It dragged behind him on the floor, a sad excuse for a cape.

He opened the refrigerator, reaching for the ice cream, when his phone went off. He fished it out of his pocket, hands trembling. It was a skype call. From Virgil.

[purplesurveys]

629

What color is your bedspread? Blue and yellow. Pick up the nearest book to you, turn to page 25 and read the first sentence. I’m on the rooftop and there isn’t a book anywhere near me at the moment. How many candles are in the room you are in? No candles, just two faint beams coming from our rooftop lights. What was your first word when you were a baby? My parents didn’t give much thought to stuff like that so they didn’t keep track of my first word, whatever it was. It was most likely either mommy or daddy though. How old were you in 1996? I was...somewhere in the universe, floating around lmao.

How old will you be in 2016? I turned 18 in 2016. How long until your birthday? A little less than three months before I turn 22. How many siblings do you have? Two.  Are they older or younger than you? My sister is two years younger, my brother is five years younger. Are your grandparents still alive? I have three out of four. I lost my maternal grandfather in 2015. How many orange objects are there in the room you are in? The lights we have on our rooftop emit a yellow-orange hue.   Have you ever run a stoplight? Never. I’ve seen enough car crash videos to know what could possibly happen if I was that impatient/if I drove too fast to brake. Do you have any children? Nope. Maybe by the end of the decade. Saying that and knowing that it isn’t 100% bullshit feels WILD. How was your first kiss? It was mostly her. I was too overwhelmed and shaking too much to remember. That whole time I was just in disbelief that I was already having my first kiss lol. Have you completed high school yet? Yeah, almost four years ago. I’m about to complete university/college this year. Do you have any relatives in the military currently? As far as I know, no. The only person I know who’s in the military is Angela’s uncle, who she’s told me about but we’ve never met each other. I also know Kate’s brother is attending military school instead of attending a ~traditional academic university, so to speak. Who got married at the last wedding you went to? Oh my, the last wedding I was in was in 2007, and it was between my uncle (my mom’s youngest brother) and my now-aunt. The new batch of weddings I’m going to be invited to now is definitely gonna be my friends’ and I’m STOKED. What time did you get up today? I first woke up at 6 AM, but I wanted to sleep in so I officially got up at around 9. When was the last time you stayed up all night? I haven’t had an all-nighter in around three years, but I did stay up until 4 AM partying with my friends a couple of months ago. We got back to Rita’s place by 5 AM, but I guess this still kinda counts as staying up all night. How long have you had a myspace, facebook, or whatever you use? I’ve had a Facebook since 2013 (I only made one since my English teacher in freshman year required us to make an account, but I technically wasn’t allowed by my parents so I had to sign up in secret). I made a Twitter three years before that, because it was a website that my parents didn’t know about yet so it was easier to sneak in and make an account for it. Who was the last person of the opposite sex you hung out with? My cousin, Jereth. We exchanged stories and played the Switch while waiting for 2020 to hit. Person of the same sex? Gabie. She came over last Friday. What color are your eyes? They are dark brown but appear to be black most days. Do you like them? Sure, it’s not like Filipinos have a choice lolol. Have you ever had braces? Yes, I had them for a year and a half in high school. I eventually lost my retainers and never got to buy another set, so everything that the braces did was to no avail since my teeth just went back to how they looked like pre-braces. :( Turn on your mp3, cd player, radio, etc. What song is playing? Khalid’s Talk just started playing on my Spotify. What was the last thing you drank? My second cup of barako coffee is keeping me company up on the rooftop right now.

Are you better at math or art? Math. I never accomplished anything presentable in art classes. Science or History? Oooooh, ya got me. I love both, but nothing replaces my love for history. Who was your 4th grade teacher? Ms. Belen, who is actually Satan in a middle-aged woman’s body. I won’t deny that I’ve wished for her death several times; she had her favorites and made her non-favorites know that she hated them. She was just that awful. Who was your best friend in 7th grade? Gabie! We actually met in the seventh grade and she’s been my best friend ever since then. Where did you go to pre-school, if you went at all? I went to the same school from preschool to high school, which we’ll hide under the name AA. We don’t have schools divided into primary, secondary, high school and whatever else y’all have in America. Who was the last person to call you? It was my mom. We went to the mall so I can spend time in Starbucks while she was looking for fancy china (we were going to have guests the next day), and she called to tell me she was gonna drive to another mall cos she couldn’t find any good plates in the mall we were currently in.

Did you smile in your driver's license picture? Yes. They told me I was allowed to smile, so I gave a hearty grin. Apparently that’s an unusual thing to do cos most people just give a closed-mouth smile or don’t smile at all, and the people at the LTO were very amused when my license was finally printed out hahaha. Do you have a job? Not yet, but that’s my goal by the end of the year. AHHHHHHHH WILD What is your favorite smell? Curry being cooked or cookies being baked. What's your favorite brand of gum? Bazooka is classic bubblegum flavor, so I’ll go with that. Have you ever dated someone & then dated their sibling? Nope. I think I’d find that super awkward, especially in my case because I see Gab’s sisters as my little sisters too lol. Who was your crush in 5th grade? My science teacher lmaoooo. We don’t talk about that era. Who was your first bf/gf? Gab. What color is the shirt you are wearing? Brown and black. What do you think of the 1980's? Pop music, big hair, Madonna, Michael Jackson. Have you ever dated someone more than 2 years older than you? I haven’t. How about 2 years younger? Nope. I’ve only dated one person and they’re the same age as me, so I don’t really know how I feel about age gaps in relationships. What brand of shampoo do you use? Dove. How long is your hair? It’s super long now that I hadn’t had it cut AT ALL in 2019. I want to have it long for my grad pic shoot so I’m probably not having it trimmed until February. If I lean my head a bit back, it already reaches my hips. If you could change one thing about yourself physically, what would it be? I’d have my teeth fixed. Is there a box of tissues in the room you are in right now? Nope, I’m out in the rooftop and there’s no reason to keep tissue in here lol. What time is it? 10:27 PM. Is their anything living (plant, animal, etc) in your room right now? We have plants on each corner of the rooftop. What color are the walls in your kitchen? White. All our walls are white, except for my brother’s bedroom which used to be the balcony until we had it renovated. His walls are creamish. Have you ever had a car accident? Mild ones. I’ve never been in a major crash where a car was totally destroyed or where someone was hurt. Do you have any major plans for today? There’s like half an hour left before the day officially ends, so I think I’m good. What kind of deoderant do you use? A...normal one? If you mean brands, I have a Dove one. What color is your toothbrush? Maroon and white. Do you own a digital camera? Nope. I stopped using those around seven or eight years ago. How old is the cellphone you have right now? It’s almost two years old. What are your initials, using the last letter of each of your names? NELZ. Do you know anyone named Tyler? I know a high school classmate’s stepbrother is named Tyler, but I don’t know anyone personally with that name. How about Reese? Katreen’s younger sister is named Reese. Diana? No. I know several Diannes, though. Shelby? That’s a no for me. Have you ever kissed someone who's name started with "C"? Negative. How about "L"? Also no. "E"? I haven’t. "B"? Andddddd nope. Are both your parents still living? Yep. What was the last thing you cooked? Nothing. How many times have you moved in your life? That I remember? Two. Do you live within 20 miles of your birthplace? Yeah, I think Manila counts as being pretty close to where I am now. Can you do a handstand? I can’t. I tried many times as a kid though (and hurt myself several times in the process). Is it after 11am? Well after, in fact. What day is it? Thursday, but it’s soon going to turn to Friday. What's the longest time you've ever spent on the phone? I was once on a Viber call for around eight hours straight with Gab back in like the early months of our relationship. That was insane. We never did it again after that lolol. How many pairs of brown shoes do you own? Just the one pair of brown heels. Are you on any prescribed medications? Nopes. What was the date 2 weeks ago from today? December 19th. If you aren't already married, do you expect to be married within 5 years? No. I’m giving myself between 7-10 years. How about 2 years? That’s an even bigger no. How many funerals have you been to in your lifetime? I’ve never been to a funeral, just wakes. I don’t think I’d like funerals, so I want to stay as unaware as I am now. Have you ever been far away from home on your birthday? Yeah. I was in Batangas for my 20th. I also went on a cruise around East Asia for my 18th birthday, but I was back in the Philippines by the day of my actual birthday. The cruise took place in the days leading up to it. Have you ever had a pet fish? Yes. My first pets were goldfish. Do you have any tattoos? Nope. Would you ever or do you have a nose piercing? Probably not. I wanted one as a teenager though. If you only had 30 days to live, what would you do? That’s pretty dark, but uhhhhhhhh I guess I’d spend all my money, party as much as I want, drink as much as I want, look for new owner/s for my dog, drive as far as I can, spend most of the time with my girlfriend.

[cainromainelettuce]

( non-binary ) haven’t seen CAIN ROMANOV around in a while. the BILL SKARSGARD lookalike has been known to be (+) RIGHTEOUS & (+) AMBITIOUS, but HE/THEY can also be (-) EVASIVE & (-) UNTRUSTING. The 24 year old is a SENIOR majoring in BUSINESS. I believe they’re living in EMERITUS, but I popped by earlier and no one answered the door. ( snot goblin. 20. EST. she/they. )

surprise !! i am the snot goblin ! (aka james aka saige aka amos aka aleta) !! i very much apologize for this intro being late !! and also for possibly being pretty long.

EDIT: i forgot to mention but 1. like this if u’d like to plot w/ him !! obv !! and then 2. if discord is easier for any of u, my thing is emo stan #3644 uwu

TW: CULT LIFE, HEROIN USAGE / ADDICTION, DRUG ADDICTION / USE / ABUSE, EMOTIONAL MANIPULATION, ABUSE, MENTAL HEALTH ISSUES ( PTSD, ANXIETY ). if i forgot anything PLEASE tell me !!

a e s t h e t i c s

dangling limbs from tree branches, yellowed book pages, opened bottles of vintage wine, oversized sweaters and deep under eyes, bleached denim, worn leather gloves, cat hair against black cloth, fields of wheat, broken windows, descending staircases, tight-lipped smiles during public appearances, golden skies, light spilling from windows, stumbling over one's own words, wire-framed beds, linens, wool scarves, making the wrong decisions; running, from others and yourself.

general information !!

full name: cain alexei romanov

nickname(s): cock and ball torture, N/A

b.o.d. - feb 19th, fuckin pisces

label(s): the fallen, the phoenix, the crestfallen, etc. etc.

height: 6′4″ jfc

hometown: rochester, ny babey !!

sexuality: bi...? bi. yes. bi.

pinterest

stats

biography !!

cain, like all of my other children, was born into a life of privilege. his father’s a senator of new york and his mother’s a philanthropist; both pretty prominent figures. cain is the eldest of five.

he was raised in mind of keeping a good public reputation, taught to be the perfect citizen. essentially, he was a golden child who could really do no wrong. as a child, he’d always aim to please his parents in any way he could.

this included joining several clubs during school, such as model UN, debate, DECA, etc. etc. as well as a few sports (soccer, track, basketball, lacrosse -- all throughout the years, not at once). pretty sure he’s been a class president once or twice, and has been in the lead for valedictorian.

his whole thing was that he was supposed to be perfect. volunteered on the weekends at homeless shelters and food banks and like...he just did The Most. the absolute most

this pleased his parents, and he never had a problem with them. life was good. they attended church on sundays, sometimes wednesdays, always did things as a Family. like, we’re talking family dinners and christmas photoshoots and new year eve parties.

probably lived in a gated community tbh

he went into college strong, started off as a double major in political science and business, lookin’ to take after both his parents. he’d Always been fairly close to tatiana, being around the same age as her. nothing freaky ever happened among them, and i wouldn’t have really called them...friends, if that makes sense? they were confidantes, they vented to each other for whatever reasons at the time.

however this whole ~do no wrong~ bearing was a charade. in the community and his families’ eye, cain was just this precious, hardworking citizen who gave back when possible.

those who actually, genuinely knew him knew he was just a dick lmfao

arrogant, harrowing, and an outright bully who tore down others when he felt like it -- often unprovoked. he was the senator’s son and a rich one at that, and ever since middle school he was just...mean !

because of his father and his family’s general position in the community, tattlers were the ones getting in trouble rather than cain, who’d often go without punishment for his attitude.

like...was That Bitch who’d actually, genuinely look down at somebody if they had less than him. just an absolute narcissistic dickhead who only cared about like, maybe two or three people outside of his family.

his only redeeming quality was probably his protectiveness over his siblings tbh -- even if he wasn’t ... the best person, nobody was rly allowed to fuck w/ his family.

this carried into college, he probably joined one of the frats too, y’know. known for keeping his composition even when others resorted to violence, ‘cos he never liked to get physical. it would’ve been bad for press, y’know ??

sometime during college, two important things happened.

the first one is that he became a sort of...middleman? broker? he wasn’t the one creating/growing what he was selling, but he wasn’t the one dealing them. y’know, he was the middleman. took drugs and sold them to dealers to sell, for profit, for funsies. very hush-hush for the obvious reasons.

the second is that he met earl and may meyers. they were fellow volunteers at a thanksgiving food drive, and the older couple were immediately drawn to cain -- and him to them, essentially. to this day he can’t tell you what about them had been so appealing. just, the air around them was something else entirely. some would probably call it unhinged. they were kind folks, very down to earth, very religious and warmhearted. they liked his name being cain a whole lot; told him that he reminded him of their late son.

i’d say the beginning of this was late junior year for cain. the couple volunteered more and more at the same places as cain, as often as he did -- which, in retrospect was odd -- but cain hadn’t really known better. being the Good Samaritan he acted as, he kept talking to them. it became a genuine friendship. a few months into it, they had started talking about like...the sin of wealth and what it does to your soul, god choosing only a select few to be saved when he eventually cleanses the earth, etc. etc. they claimed that cain was special, one of those to be selected, they could see it in his aura, etc. etc.

it was...oddly appealing to him? like hmm..maybe i am being constrained by capitalism and disappointing god!

but like...this was mostly because of a lot of emotional manipulation for a duration of months -- and he had never once suspected anything like that to be happening. cain had always been so sure of himself, that he’d never imagined one day being manipulated, even if he was manipulative himself.

earl and may told him that they were going to leave rochester, that there were so many more who had the same ideals as them -- it was time to join them, to be saved. cain held off from this, as a senior in college by now.

after all, he had his perfect lil family and a good side-business going on, and he had a long term girlfriend who put up with his shenanigans. cain was still an absolute asshole to others but he had at least found his crowd to all be collectively awful and full of themselves, y’know?

over winter break, however, cain had a change of heart pretty suddenly. 

for the third important thing had happened.

it had started off as a pretty average, normal day. christmas had gone and passed -- it was one of the days between christmas and new years eve, y’know? a period of days where time nor place is real. like walmart at midnight, or an empty 7/11 parking lot. during a seemingly normal conversation about his ancestry with his mother, she had suddenly broken down in sobs.

it was during this discussion that she revealed, to cain only -- that he was not his father’s son.

the beginning of vaughn and adelaide’s marriage had a pretty...rocky start, to say the least, and in a night of petty anger, adelaide had cheated on vaughn. this resulted in the pregnancy that wound up with cain.

the news rocked cain’s world in a very bad way, the sort of way that breaks a person. his entire life he looked up to his parents, did everything they ever asked of him, molded himself into perfection for the hope of being a sliver of a man his father was. and to learn that his father was not, actually, his father?

within the week he’d gotten into several altercations, both sober and drunk, and had landed in county jail overnight. nobody knows where cain went on new years eve, but he hadn’t skipped town until the third -- according to tatiana, who had received one last gift from him on the 2nd (her birthday).

then, he was gone. it wasn’t a missings person ordeal -- cain had made it very known that he was leaving rochester and that he had skipped town. hadn’t even broken up with his girlfriend before doing so. hell -- hadn’t even told the people he worked for. 

BEGINNING OF CULT / DRUG / MOST OF THE TRIGGER WARNINGS

only earl and may knew where cain went. because he went with them to the place they had told him so much about. this was the fourth most important thing to happen to him, because it changed his life.

cain didn’t know what a cult looked like, but it felt pretty accurate to hollywood’s interpretations. they lived separate from society in rural new york -- not nearly as far away as cain would’ve liked, but thank god in the long run for that. the people wore white, linens and cotton. there was no technology, just prayer and daily chores. money meant nothing, there.

i want to keep this part relatively short, so i’ll try my hardest. cain was only in the cult for three-ish months before he escaped. the beginning was grand -- it was peaceful, it was mind-clearing. he was treated as something special, his name being some sort of ... message, a sign that he’d been a gift for the group. that he’d be, ultimately, an eventual leader for them. however -- the longer he stayed with them, the more apparent it became that he wasn’t the messager they had long waited for.

he began slipping up. they became displeased with him. punishments occurred. sometimes once a week, sometimes multiple. he remembers hundreds of hands, pulling and tugging and gripping and begging -- asking him to repent, please, repent, and submergence on more than one occasion. these were not the worst.

 they were convinced that he couldn’t truly be cleansed of his sins unless he forgot his past life.

fun fact: heroin in small doses, daily, can lead to memory loss.

though it’d only been around three months of this -- it really felt longer to cain. time wasn’t a concept. there was only the ground they walked on, and god, and that was that.

drugged and weakened but still kickin’, he had gotten into a particularly violent, brutal fight with earl. this was the last straw. cain had attempted to murder his ‘brother’. this led to his next punishment.

in a particularly twisted reenactment / retelling, cain had been branded with the cult’s interpretation of the mark of cain (they were going to be accurate and place it upon his forehead, but after a lot of resistance [he bit somebody] it was, begrudgingly, placed atop his heart instead) and left for dead in the middle of nowhere.

by all means, he probably should’ve died. by miracle, though cain was no longer a believer -- he was found by a farmer.

END OF CULT / DRUG / MOST OF THE TRIGGER WARNINGS. PROCEED WITH CAUTION. STILL MENTIONS OF TRAUMA / MENTAL HEALTH / RECOVERY BEYOND THIS POINT.

by early april he’d been reunited with his family. things went very fast, suddenly, for him. recovering from his forced addiction, and the trauma he’d been put in within only a small amount of months -- and his father’s reputation -- his mother’s inability to look him in the eye -- cain took matters into his own hands and, rather than return to lockwood, put in his transfer to hendrix.

because he’s a grown man who, while recovering from being in a cult, can still make his own decisions even if they’re irrational. he should’ve taken a year off, really, and recover. but he couldn’t imagine staying in his house, either, and generally ?? his mind was just a very messy place.

he went to hendrix a s a p, before his term in the summer even began. he wound up at hendrix a few weeks (like...three?) before the lockwood kids and was very dismayed to find out that oh, coincidence, there’s an abroad semester attending !!

so that’s sort of where he’s at rn.

personality !!

okay so...douchebag cain is No More. they’re retired.

to the hendrix students they’ve familiarized themself with, they’re a pretty quiet person. well-meaning, kind enough if not a little sarcastic. sort of distant, not much for parties. smokes weed and like, drinks occasionally, but not much else. definitely doesn’t do anything harder. 

they’ve got four cats. that’s their entire personality. four cats. they got them all after transferring to hendrix and like ... no regrets ?

i imagine their parents still pay for their schooling ‘cos it’s not like their father Knows that cain’s not his child. if anything, vaughn just thinks that cain suffered a mental breakdown and needed a break.

anyways. they love their cats a lot. like, probably has photos of them in their wallet.

as mentioned above, their memory is pretty...fucked up right now. they don’t forget anything major, but there are days where it takes them a while to remember faces or names and sometimes they wake up and won’t know where they are.

not that they really...sleep a lot? they have night terrors, which fuck with their sleep schedule. they sleep only for a few hours each night because the nightmares are too bad.

cain suffers from severe touch aversion. skin-to-skin contact of any sort is enough to send them into a pretty bad panic attack. they wear leather gloves more often than not, because it helps without hindering them too much. they’re not the biggest fan of body contact in general, even with clothes, but it won’t send them into a panic like bare skin will. they make sure their few friends know that they don’t really like physical contact at all.

they’re dealing with PTSD, attends therapy every week. keeps an entire journal where they write b/c it helps them cope. it’s like, everything to them.

they’re...sort of like...blunt? they won’t go out of their way to be like ‘hey i joined a cult and it fucked me up pretty badly’ but they won’t lie about it either if the topic somehow comes to that. they don’t like delusions, but they don’t like drawing unnecessary attention to them either.

lockwood students being at hendrix makes them pretty anxious, just because they were looking to sort of ... rebuild themself into a better person, and like pretty much most students at lockwood knows how much of a massive tool they used to be. not to mention like, their plugs and customers they screwed over by leaving, and their ex girlfriend who they’re still probably in love with ?? but it’s just complicated now.

smokes weed to soothe them rather than just get high. is probably stoned often.

doesn’t really like cars! or swimming! or crowds. doesn’t like to feel trapped.

whenever they’re overwhelmed and needs to be away from everything, they’ve developed a habit of climbing into trees. they won’t suddenly go jump in a tree during a conversation, but more so at night or when they need to think.

probably trying to redeem themself in some sort of way. because while they want to avoid the lockwood students as much as possible, that’s not right. they want to fix the shit they’ve done and be a better person, because the whole...situation they’ve been in has opened their eyes.

uuuhh...there are days where they forget that tatiana’s dead. so that’s sad.

i wouldn’t be surprised if people from lockwood were suspicious of cain, considering they left rochester only a week or so before tatiana went missing, and just so happened to come to hendrix around the same time eva went missing ??

oh !! cain developed a stutter, and their voice is a little damaged from...screaming. a lot. in general they look a little gaunt, a little unhealthy. 

they can still definitely hold a conversation, and like i said they’re pretty...lowkey. soft, sort of. generally a quiet person and while they’re not the most social, they won’t be a direct asshole or anything. likes people! just...has low energy.

goes by he/they, doesn’t really care which one as he alternates pretty frequently.

dropped the political science part of his major and like...unfortunately is very much unhappy with being a business major atm. he might just go through another four years of college in a diff major or fuck off all together.

EDIT: i forgot to mention that he’s sort of really into the investigation of the cult he was part of b/c they’re still like...out there. also fascinated by the watershed app and shit, ‘cos they fucking...hate this shit with a passion. probably willing to stick their nose into places they shouldn’t

wanted connections !!

so first and foremost, cain would’ve been known around lockwood. connections relating to that would be v much appreciated !!

mostly enemies or people they’ve wronged, tbh, ‘cos he was a massive dick.

exes they’ve dumped, hook ups, ex-friends, people he’s gotten into arguments or fights with.

his ex gf would be gr8 . if anybody would like some angst.

uuhhh i’d imagine he’d know a few of the other prominent families from rochester, especially. not to say that they would’ve all gotten along.

hendrix pals !! give me some solid friendships based on mutual respect.

people cain used to receive drugs from and people he used to send those drugs to.

ex-party pals ??

people suspicious of them b/c cain was/is a very suspicious person. people still angry at them.

let them RECONNECT and FIX FRIENDSHIPS

people he’d bully or fuck with or whatever.

wholesome shit. angst shit. slowburns, anyone ?!? enemies to friends. friends to enemies. enemies to bigger enemies.

i’m not taking hook-ups for....obvious reasons.

but sexual tension is welcomed. maybe a sexting thing ??

ppl they DON’T even know that well but hATE his dAD because FUCK POLITICIANS y’know ?!?

old pals from lockwood, if i didnt mention that.

i imagine a lot of conversations w/ lockwood kids begin like ‘this is where u fucked off to, huh?’ b/c like....they told everybody they were ditching rochester. it wasn’t a secret or a shock. but it’s still like huh. u bastard.

people who are soft for them ??

people who are hard on him ??

make his life difficult but also uuuhh uwu him

[louisaadams]

TW: death and suicide

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I just need to vent to someone not grieving, sorry.

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On Friday right before going to work I found out one of my close friends killed herself. Her name was Becca, she just turned 19. I met her my senior, her junior, year of high school in math class. I met her because she was friends with one of my best friends. She ended up sitting right behind me because, alphabet. I talked to her everyday in class and got to know her really well. She was such a kind and happy and welcoming person. She was really good at makeup and had a goth hippie aesthetic she really kept up with. She was very into 60s/70s music and so was I. I let her copy my homework and cheat off my tests. We got along really well and had a great dynamic with our math teacher. We one time connected a bunch of tangle fidget toys together to make a really long one. I don’t know what to do with it so I ended up giving it to her. I ended up giving her a lot of things I was getting rid of because our aesthetics were so similar. We had a lot of fun in that class. We also talked a lot about deep personal stuff. She also watched me do art towards the end of the year in math class when it was ap crunch time. She was really interested in what I was doing. After I graduated the next year I went back a few times to see my choir teacher and always made sure to go into the art class she was in to see her. I knew nobody else in that class. At the end of the school year I told her she should listen to Simon and Garfunkel because she would really like it. She did start listening to them and enjoying them. The last time I saw her was at the art show. I saw her towards the end so I got to hang out with her a bit. I met her family. Summer makes people drift apart so I hadn’t talked to her in awhile but was hoping to hang out with her before school starts, even though she was going to the same college as me. Then on Friday I found out the news. August 1st, 2019 she ended her own life a week after her 19th birthday. None of us really know why it happened and are still completely shocked. She seemed like such a happy person. The only indication something was wrong was one day in math class, her, I, and our other friend were talking and she said “I hurt myself last night” that’s about all I remember from that coneversation, but that line stuck in my head. A few days later I did see cuts on her leg. I wasn’t super close with her, but she was a really good friend. I saw someone post on twitter there was nothing you can say bad about her, which is completely true. She was such a good person.

I have been crying pretty much nonstop for the past 2 days. I am constantly thinking about her. She is the first person in my life to die that has affected me so greatly. I read her obituary yesterday and it said she spent her final days singing Simon and Garfunkel songs, which is because of me. Today was her viewing, which was really hard, but I forced myself to go an say goodbye and pay my respects to her family. There were so many people there. We waited over an hour before getting to her. She looked so beautiful. She didn’t look peaceful though, she looked sad. It made me so sad to see her like that. She is free now, with the stars, with some of her idols. I miss her so much.

I realized why else this is hitting me so hard. When I was 14, turning 15 I told myself if my life didn’t improve in the week after my birthday I would kill myself a week after my 15th birthday. My life actually did improve because I am here now. I just feel so bad thinking she was probably thinking the same thing, but she felt like her life didn’t improve.

Thank you Becca, thank you for the 2 years of friendship, thank you for keeping my entertained in math, thank you for sharing your Spotify playlists with me after I got Spotify again, thank you for the laughs, thank you for the memories. I will forever miss you.

[rewrite-canon]

Detroit: Become High School

Chapter 1: "Start of Sophomore" (Connor's POV)

On normal days, Connor would be fine waking up. But today was the first day of his sophomore year at Cyder Line Academy, and he wasn't particularly looking forward to it at all. He knew there would be more stacks if homework, horrible teachers (like Mr Perkins, who hated his guts), the stressful social school hierarchy and Gavin Reeds, a man who found solace in picking on him. But if Connor knew anything, it would be to get up quickly before his dad and brother start yelling at him.

Read more chapters: here

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“Connor! The fuck are you doing? Get up!”

Connor stirred drowsily, trying to mentally block out his dad’s insistent yelling.

“Connor, I swear to god, I will bust down your door in a few moments if you don't wake up!” He heard his father grumble outside.

Preferring to not have an enraged, tired father invade his room, he quickly responded with an “I'm up! I'm up!”

He blinked and stirred, his eyes slowly adjusting to the morning light slipping through the blinds, and the warm air of the stuffy, unventilated bedroom. As Connor groaned and rolled himself out of bed, he glanced resentfully at his calendar and sighed. September 19th, 2019. The day he will be starting his sophomore year. And he already knew it was going to be difficult, if freshman year told him anything. There were to be more suffocating homework and exams, the pressure of colleges, dealing with horrid teachers and, of course, Gavin Reeds, who was a problem all on his own.

He then walked over to the large tank of brightly coloured fish, and quickly fed them. He smiled, because the fishes did looked quite content with their breakfast, which made Connor feel nice himself. Connor made a beeline to his birch closet, and tried not to feel the stress of picking out the most appropriate attire for the first day. But alas, it was quite inevitable.

Upon picking and choosing his shirt, his small moments of privacy was soon cut short as his older brother stepped in without bothering to knock.

“Normally, I wouldn't care if you were late, but dad would crack the shits if I don't personally drive your ass to school,” he stated, coldly. “And you're taking forever.”

But his chilling expression soon changed into a patronising sneer as he saw his brother’s distress.

“Having trouble choosing what to wear?” He asked, his eyebrows raised. “What? Are you trying to impress someone?”

“Go away so I can change, Ronan.”

“Whoa, someone's grumpy today. Now I've got two grumpy family members to deal with.”

Connor took one look at what Ronan was wearing and pouted. Ronan always got it right. He was wearing a white shirt with the Detroit Tigers logo on it. On top of it, he was wearing a light denim jacket, that was cuffed at the sleeves, dark jeans and white Vans. His sunglasses were also hanging loosely off his neckline. All in all, it wasn't much, and he looked quite normal, but Connor thought it was fashion genius. It wasn't too flashy, but it wasn't laid back. It made Ronan genuinely look nice, and more older and mature, though he was anything but.

“How do you do that?” Connor blurted.

“What?”

“You know, make yourself look so cool without even trying?”

Ronan just laughed fondly albeit condescendingly in response, his blue eyes flashing with amusement.

“I'm serious! You're the one starting your senior year, you should be close to tears! It's your last first day of high school ever!”

Ronan rolled his eyes and ruffled Connor’s hair.

“Well, if you want to be like me, you've got to become more faster, stronger, resilient and be equip with all of my brilliant charms,” he said, turning to walk out of Connor’s room, and grinning like his older brotherly ‘advice’ was very helpful.

“I never said I wanted to be like you, I just wanted to know what to wear!” Connor called, but Ronan was already out of the door.

He sighed and faced his closet forlornly. With a few more minutes of stressing and inner debates, Connor decided to go with grey jeans, a Detroit hoodie and his wristwatch that his dad got him for his birthday last year. And whilst looking at his wristwatch, he realised that he really needed to hurry up if he wanted to avoid both his dad and Ronan yelling more at him.

So he quickly rushed over to the bathroom, speed-brushed his teeth, and thanked god he packed his school bag the night before. Upon arriving to the kitchen, Ronan was ready to leave and was now yelling at him to hurry, and Hank looked conflicted as to which one of his sons he should murder first. Connor then quickly grabbed a stale muesli bar from the pantry and gave Sumo a nice pat, before embracing his dad.

“You take care, Connor,” Hank said gruffly, before letting go. “Now you boys go to school and Ronan-” he pointed a finger at Ronan who smiled innocently on instinct, “no causing trouble on your first day. And Connor-” his finger shifted to his youngest son, “try to not look so goofy and clueless. It's weird.”

Ronan was unsuccessfully trying to suppress his snickers as Connor nodded obediently. Hank gestured towards the front door.

“Now go. I still need to make my coffee and take a shower, because god knows I smell like Satan’s musty anus,” he sniffed.

By the time they made it to Cyder Line Academy, Ronan had already informed Connor about how ridiculous he looked.

“You do realise the temperature today is going to be about 84°, right?” He asked, staring at his hoodie. “And your pants and shoes really don't go together.”

Connor huffed and wished for the thousandth time that Ronan would one day miraculously cease to speak, and that his school will enable uniforms.

They arrived about a good twenty minutes before the start of the first bell thanks to Ronan’s insane driving. Connor watched blankly as friends were tearfully reuniting with others and burst into conversations about what their summer had been like. Connor saw new couples that had no doubt sparked the wheel of gossip in the school, and he spotted old ones, who were wrapped up in each other’s arms. He spotted some new faces of the school, but mostly old ones, though the new freshman sure did look nervous. And rightfully so, Connor thought, as his eyes coincidentally landed on Gavin Reeds.

Once Gavin met his eyes too, a large scowl blessed his antagonising face. Connor gulped as Gavin looked as though he may come over, but as Gavin pivoted his body, he stopped short, his eyes widening at something directly behind Connor and turned back around reluctantly, though he was still radiating pure hatred. Connor turned to see Ronan death-glaring at Gavin coolly.

“I thought you already left to hang out with your friends or something,” Connor said dumbly, shivering at the thought of being on the receiving side of brother’s glare.

“Let me know if he comes at you again,” Ronan ignored, his tone one that could send a stampede of rhinos running in the opposite direction. “He's not allowed to mess with you anymore.”

Connor nodded slowly as Ronan walked off, possibly to go hang out with his many, multiple, cooler friends.

Connor never planned on telling Ronan or his dad about the number of verbal offences Gavin had thrown at Connor over the past two years. Sure, ever since seventh year Gavin had been horrible to him. In eighth grade, when Ronan witnessed one of the many assaults that was delivered by Gavin and his gang, he got so mad, and threw some punches himself. Connor shuddered when he thought of the scene, and how mad Ronan was. After, he had dragged Connor back home and explained in detail to Hank what had happened. It took hours to convince his two family members not to go to the principal.

Ronan had roughed them up pretty badly, and Connor figured Ronan was the only guy Gavin legitimately feared. Connor knew he should use that to his advantage, but if he was being honest with himself, he would rather Ronan (and his dad) be kept in the dark about all of this.

It wasn't the number of threats Gavin spewed at him every time they did go toe-to-toe, it was the plain fact that he was fed up of living under his brother's shadow. He knew Ronan was generally better than him, and that annoyed him quite a bit. He had been living under Ronan’s protection for too long, and if Gavin should fear anyone. It should be Connor. And Connor will eventually stand up for himself.

But that day was not today.

Once Ronan left, Gavin immediately started to make his way towards Connor, his other insolent friends not too far behind him.

“Hey Connor,” Gavin sneered, slinging an arm around him tightly, “how was your holidays?”

“They were ok,” Connor answered evenly.

“Really? I'm glad they were. But unfortunately, your bitchy-ass is back in school now, and we have a lot of things to catch up on.”

With that, he shoved Connor into the nearest wall, which turned out to be the greenhouse, and the hot plastic wall burned against him. Connor shifted uncomfortably.

“Still not trying to stand up for yourself? Well I wouldn't expect much from such a retarded pussy,” Gavin spat, as his friends laughed.

All Connor could do was glare back at him, though it wasn't as nearly threatening as Ronan’s ice blue eyes can produce.

“You look so stupid,” one of Gavin's friends laughed. “What kind of dog’s vagina were you birthed from?”

Connor just wanted to leave. Or rather, he would rather they leave. And he knew the quickest way they would was if he remained quiet. They wouldn't have a physical go at him before school started.

“You just never get upset with this, do you, Connor?” Gavin sneered, tightening his hold on him. “You never cry or scream or fight back or do anything. What are you? Some sort of fucking robot?!”

With that, Gavin punched him right in the face. Welp, I was wrong about things not getting physical, Connor thought.

It wasn't a hard punch. It wasn't enough to cause a bruise or start bleeding, but the punch to the chest might've bruised.

“Are you going to go crying to your asshole brother after this?”

“You're so pathetic.”

“You just think your Mr-fuckin-Perfect, don't ya?”

Gavin was smiling now. He was enjoying it. He must've missed picking on Connor. He raised his fist to strike a blow again, but is eyes caught something else exiting the greenhouse.

“Ralph will be planting all sorts of flowers! Yes! Yes! There will be sunflowers. Ralph will plant lovely sunflowers!”

The boys turned their heads to spot the blonde boy skipping excitedly into the greenhouse, not noticing Connor or Gavin and his gang. Gavin’s hands immediately slackened.

“Oh lookie here, it’s the psycho freak,” Gavin cackled, gesturing at Ralph. “What do ya say, guys? Maybe we should go rough him up a bit. Can't have him forgetting how much of a creep he is.”

“He'll probably grow up being a homeless pedo,” said another one of the boys. “You know, living on the streets and shit, and sucking dick for money.

“He'll definitely be a drug addict. Or a rapist. Maybe both. Maybe he already is.”

“He's so fucking weird. I don't know, he even scares the shit out of me. I saw him approaching my little sister with a flower once. Had to teach him a solid lesson,” said another guy, who cracked his meaty knuckles.

Gavin let go of Connor and started making his way over to his next target, his friends in tow.

“I'll catch you later, fag,” Gavin insulted, before spitting in Connor’s face for good measure.

What a lovely start to the day, Connor thought sarcastically as he heard Ralph cries from inside the greenhouse.

Connor made his way to his locker, keyed in his code and started to get ready for his first two periods. Double geometry. That didn't seem so bad. He had a few acquaintances within that class, and he didn't mind the class itself. But, first he had to get through a boring, all-school assembly, that was sure to be a pain.

And it was.

Upon making it to the assembly with the rest of his Homeroom class, the principal stepped up on the small podium, and smiled at the academy proudly. She welcomed back old students, and greeted new ones, then went on with some inspirational speech for 2019, and all of the blatant hopes she had for the school. Connor listened nevertheless, but he couldn't help but notice there was a new student in his class.

The boy looked nervous, his eyes occasionally scanning the sea of students, but also trying to look normal and blend in. Unfortunately for him, new students who weren't freshman stood out like a sore thumb, and others were casting some curious glances at the tanned boy.

Once assembly had ended, Connor made his way down to the room where he was assigned double geometry. He watched as few students trickled in, some who even said a small ‘hello’ to him. They all went to sit in their seats, flunked with their friends.

“Hi, Connor,” Daniel greeted, sitting next to him tentatively.

“Hello, Daniel. How was your summers?” Connor asked politely.

“Pretty good. My family and I went to Chile and Peru. Emma really enjoyed it. How about you?”

“I just stayed around in Detroit, but that's okay. Gave me a chance to relax before school started up again.”

Daniel nodded in understanding, and a content silence settled over them.

Daniel and Connor weren't exactly friends, but they were close acquaintances with each other. Both of them being quite unpopular, and leaning more towards the introverted side, they could find some sort of solace in that. Daniel was seen as somewhat of a punching bag to the other boys at school too, so Connor assumed he didn't have any friends either.

Then the teacher walked in with the new kid.

“So sorry! I'm a bit late,” Mr Collins exclaimed as he shuffled to his desk and dumped his heavy satchel. “But welcome back everybody! I hope you all had a wonderful holiday. And on the topic of ‘welcoming’, can everyone give a warm welcome to our newest student at Cyder Line Academy, Markus.”

There was a scattered applause, and the new guy, Markus, smiled uncomfortably. Though he looked a little hesitant, Connor picked up that he held himself quite confidently. He had a brown buzz cut, coffee-coloured complexion, but the most striking thing about him was his eyes. One leafy green, the other sky blue.

“Go and introduce yourself, Markus,” Mr Collins encouraged, running a hand through his greying hair as he searched for something in his satchel.

“Ok, um,” he started, “hi. I'm Markus Manfred. I moved here from Delaware to Michigan not too long ago when my dad got a new job opportunity to continue his career in art. Um, I was homeschooled for most of my life, so attending an actual school is really different. But I'll get used to it.”

The teacher nodded, seemingly satisfied with Markus’ introduction.

“Well, I'm sure we are all very honoured to be your first time at school,” Mr Collins said, unaware of the suppressed snickers throughout the class. “You may take a seat next to North.”

Upon hearing her name, North looked up in surprise. She maybe been zoning out before, and though she was one of the most beautiful albeit intimidating girls in the school, Markus obliviously dumped his things next to her, and sat down with ease.

With that, double geometry began. And so did the actual school year.