#pack actual lunch for Saturday rehearsals

[curiosity-killed]

I am going to draw tonight!! But first I think I actually need a nap or I’ll pass out

[moralesispunk]

Tomorrow (Javier Peña x F! Reader)

Summary: It's been a year since you last saw Javi, and one night he shows up at your door

Warnings: reader is a single mum, talk of a previous break up (second chance romance anyone?), tension, as always when I write Javi it is fictional Javi so let's keep it respectful

Word Count: 2.8k

It’s after midnight when the soft knock comes to your door.

It echoes towards where you’re standing in the kitchen, the sound so gentle that it would have been easy to convince yourself it wasn’t for you but rather a visitor at one of your neighbours doors down the hall.

In fact it was so quiet that you didn’t move at the first two knocks, the lid of tupperware that you were in the middle of snapping closed over tonight’s - or as you glance at the clock on the oven reading 12:04 AM correct yourself - last night’s dinner stilling in your hands as you listened again.

Two more knocks, even softer than before but definitely against your apartment door.

You click the lid into place and slide the tub into the fridge while closing the door with your other hand, your slippers scuffing against the laminate flooring as the dull orange light from the kitchen guides you down the hall.

Most, if not all, nights you wouldn’t be best pleased by a knock at the door this late at night, but especially when today had been long enough as it was and all you wanted to do was switch off the lights and climb into bed - probably still half-dressed - to pass out immediately.

It was a day that started with an alarm that didn’t go off followed by a flat tire on the way to work. To make things worse you had forgot your lunch, didn’t have time between meetings to go out and buy something so handed cash into your intern’s hands - the same intern who also lost a box of files that meant you were scrambling to close out a case - and they had returned with the one sandwich you had begged them not to get you, only managing two mouthfuls before it was thrown in the bin. You were practically running out of the office to pick up Sofia from school on time, burning dinner as you tried to make it while simultaneously getting her ready for dance class; a class that was actually a dress-rehearsal you had forgotten about until walking into the hall where one of the other mums took Sofia from you, gave you a pat on the arm so gentle you could have cried, and let you run home to pack all her dresses and make it back in time for her first dance.

By the time you got home and Sofia was bathed and in bed, it was an hour past her usual bedtime and you still had everything else to do around the apartment which left you packing away leftovers at midnight. You had been praying between spooning the meatballs into the tub and washing down the pot that Sofia would - for the first time in months - want to lie in on a Saturday rather than wake you up at her usual 6 AM for cartoons and cereal.

By the time you reach the door you’re already balancing on your toes, lifting yourself to look through the peephole. Your building security was tight, mostly agents from the bureau and their families who lived here, but it still didn’t stop you from being overly-cautious with your daughter sound asleep down the hall.

You really had no guesses for who would be knocking at this time, if you had been any more awake you probably would have had the mind to think of a neighbour or the night manager, but even if you had taken a million guesses you would never have said his name.

At the sight of the man on the other side of the door, his hand scrubbing down his face before tugging the tie around his neck loose as he looked like he wasn’t sure whether to stay or run, your heart stopped.

You hadn’t seen Javi in over a year, the last time almost in this exact spot, and it was like a wave of emotions crashing over you.

The memories of that first night when you met in the bar and how he had made you laugh harder than you had in the longest time, your head thrown back and his eyes crinkling at the side. The feeling of his hands as he pushed your skirt up to your waist the second your apartment door had closed, his body crowding against yours and his mouth kissing a path down your neck as his hand was lost between your legs. The feeling of his lips against your temple the next morning, how he smiled boyishly down at you as you hugged the sheets around your still-naked body and he left in the same clothes he had worn the night before. How your mouth fell-open when you walked into the boardroom on Monday morning to find him standing beside your boss. The weeks of avoiding him around the building with burning cheeks and fast clicking heels as you tried to make it to the elevator and back without being caught. The way he had caught you in the file room and asked you to go for a drink with him.

The way you had said yes, instantly.

The months of dates and nights where you lost yourself in the sheets. The day you introduced him to Sofia and he knelt before her with a smaller bouquet of flowers to match yours. The movie nights. The trips to the park. The safety you felt for the first time in… God, years really. The heartbreak as he stood at your door, while Sofia played quietly in the living room, and told you that they offered him a move back to Colombia, for a year - maybe two - and he had already said yes.

He had already said yes before talking to you and that was what broke everything.

But as you took in this man now, his tight shoulders and tired eyes, it somehow didn’t feel like a conversation for tonight.

With a hand sliding down the door you flicked the lock, taking off the latch in a swipe and opening the door wide enough for you to stand in the now open gap. His head had jerked up at the sound, his eyes widening as though he was surprised at you actually opening the door for him.

His lips parted and a quiet murmur of your name was the only sound he made, his hand shaking out by his side as he shifted his weight onto one leg and took you in.

In all honesty, for the first three months after he had left you had thought about this moment - about seeing him for the first time. You had imagined you would be dressed up with your hair and make-up done, throwing back your head in a laugh as he walked into whatever bar you were in - you would never imagined that it would be after midnight in your apartment building hallway, your face completely bare and an outfit that consisted of your work trousers and an oversized t-shirt turned sleep-shirt.

You would also never have guessed that you didn’t care what you looked like in this moment.

It was partially because, somehow, the man across from you looked even more tired than you felt and maybe it made you a bad person, slightly evil at the core, but it made you feel better that you weren’t the only mess.

“What are you doing here, Javi?” You asked, sighing and leaning your weight on the door as the exhaustion from the day caught up on you.

“I…” Javi’s hand rubbed across his jaw, his eyes flicking back and forth between yours before he sighed. “No. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have… It’s late and- and I don’t know why I came, I just went for a walk and-” He shook his head again, taking a step back and another. “I’m sorry, I’ll just-”

You had never seen Javi flustered before, so unconfident and unbelieving in himself, and it set off an unease in you that had you stepping forward and wrapping your hand around his arm.

“Javi,” you said, waiting until he looked up into your eyes before going on. “Why don’t you just… come in. It’s late and you’re already here.”

His shoulders rose as he took in a breath, dark brown eyes looking into yours, then into the open door behind you, before he nodded and you let your palm slide down his arm and into his hand as you led him back into the apartment.

It was awkward and disjointed, his body close behind yours as you stepped inside and closed the door as soon as he had followed. With the door locked and his shoes toes off by the shoe rack, an uncomfortable pressure settled into your chest at the feeling that all of this was too familiar.

It was like every other time you had come home together. Those nights after work when you were still chatting as you stepped over the threshold, your eyes never leaving one another’s as you slipped your shoes off, tossed the keys into the bowl and slipped your jackets onto the rack while deciding what's for dinner. Or when the three of you had been out together and Sofia had fallen asleep on the way home, her cheek squished against his shoulder and his hand running up and down her back as you straightened the three pairs of shoes while he carried her to bed. Or nights when she was with your friend and you and Javi were on a date night, his mouth already on yours before the door had closed and his hands gripping at your thighs until your legs had been wrapped around his waist.

To make it worse, it felt right as soon as his hand was in yours - his rough skin against your smooth palm, his hand completely enveloping your smaller one, his thumb that instinctively came to trace circles on your skin.

Awkward and tension filled but familiar and right, no sign that anything good was going to come from leading him down the hall towards your bedroom. You stopped only to switch off the kitchen light, his weight steady behind you as he stayed silent while you peeked into Sofia’s room.

The purple octopus light on her bedside table was bright enough for you to make out her sleeping face, the duvet kicked down by her feet and her arms raised up above her head as she snored far louder than any five-year old should, so you closed the door back over until it was only open and inch or two and began the short walk across the hall to your room.

There is no part of your mind that could rationalise this, that could find an explanation other than you are just over-tired and hallucinating the man who broke your heart, but you can feel him here and there is a soft voice reassuring you that it's true, and that if he wanted you to stop leading him deeper into your apartment he would have said so by now.

When you open the door to your bedroom he follows closely, his hand only leaving yours when you're both over the threshold and he takes a step further inside as you close the door over.

“She's not a great sleeper right now,” you explain as you leave your door open an inch or two, the same as Sofia’s, and Javi waves you off.

When you turn back around you find your arms crossing over your chest, fingers digging into the skin around your elbow as you take in the man before you in more detail now.

He looks like the man you had first met; the tiredness that gave his cheeks an almost sunken look and left him with dark bags under his eyes. His shoulders were tight as though the weight of the very world settled on them and his eyes darted around your face as his hands clenched and released from fists by his side as though he couldn’t stay still.

He wasn't like the man who had been here just before he left again, settled into domesticity who would lie in bed wrapped around you until his alarm went off - not slipping out as soon as he woke up - and who began to build something here.

“I-” He started to speak and you raised a hand, shaking your head as your throat began to sting with unshed tears.

“I’m going to get ready for bed,” you said simply and he looked at you, searching your face for an answer he didn't seem to find before nodding.

If for nothing else, five minutes locked away might help you find some semblance of control. You avoided your reflection in the mirror the whole time, not wanting to see if your face was giving away more hope than pain or more pain than hope, and spent the whole time throwing your trousers in the laundry basket, washing your face and brushing your teeth wondering what Javi was doing in the room next door.

Your apartment had stayed largely the same this past year, a family home filled with toys and organised mess that accumulated from your busy lives, but you had not. Sometimes it felt like a museum, stumbling across a cuff link that was wedged between the cushions and remembering how on nights you were home alone he would take you on the sofa rather than take the two seconds to move you to the bedroom. Other times it felt like he had never been there at all, a wardrobe that had once held hangers of his shirts and trousers sitting emptier than before with only your clothes to fill it.

When you stepped back into your bedroom you found him perched on the side of the bed, his elbows resting on his knees and his fingers rubbing between his brows, until he stood up to face you.

His eyes followed a path up from your ankles to the middle of your thighs where the hem of your t-shirt rested, his bottom lip pulling between his teeth and his eyes darting away as his jaw clenched.

There was going to be no conversation tonight, not one that would do either of you any good or answer any of your questions. Questions about why he came here? Why didn't he call, not once, this whole year even just to tell you he was alive? Why can't you decide whether you hate or love him? Does he love you? Is this going to end up in an even bigger mess than last time? But these were questions you had asked yourself for a year and another night without answers wasn't going to ruin you.

Taking a step forward, then another, you placed your hands on his chest and watched as he carefully took you in. Your hands slipped up to his tie, one you had never seen before with the deep navy paisley pattern, and you raised an eyebrow in question.

He nodded once, the fabric soon coming loose and dropping to the floor.

A tear spilled over your cheek as your fingers moved down the buttons, slipping each one free from the soft cotton before you could slide it from his shoulders. The tips of your fingers grazed against his skin from his shoulders to his wrists and as soon as his hands were free they raised to your face, palms cupping your cheeks and thumbs brushing away the tears that were spilling over.

You stepped out of his grasp, rounding to your side of the bed and switching off the lamp.

“I hope you're wearing boxers under there,” you said, sniffing back the tears and climbing under the sheets.

His quiet laugh was followed by the soft thud of his trousers hitting the carpet.

“Yes, boxers are on,” he whispered back.

The mattress dipped behind you, his warmth settling on the half of the bed that had been cold for a year. Your shoulders were almost at your ears from how tense you held yourself, rolling over to face Javi to find him already facing you, an arm folded under the pillow and the other resting on the mattress between you.

“Hi,” you whispered.

“Hi,” he whispered back, his face softening slightly.

As your eyes adjusted to the dark your hand reached up, tracing down the strong slope of his nose and across the plump roundness of his lips. His breath hitched then, a beautifully painful sound that had your eyes squeezing shut.

Your eyes stayed closed as you turned back around, your body much closer to Javi’s than it had been before, and it wasn't long before his hand wrapped slowly around your waist, giving you time to push him away.

“Tomorrow,” you whispered, linking your fingers with his where they rested on the mattress in front of you and his chest pressed tighter against your back.

“Tomorrow,” he whispered back, his cheek resting against the top of your head and his hand squeezing yours.

[putschki1969]

2021/07/07 Blog post by Wakana 「麺」と「MEN」が仲間入り！！〜私の昼食大革命〜 

Super-Noodles have joined the ranks！〜My Great Lunch Revolution〜

❗This is Fan Club EXCLUSIVE content❗ ❗PERSONAL USE ONLY❗ Do ❗NOT SHARE❗ on other sites ❗ Join her FAN CLUB! Check out my detailed TUTORIAL ❗

Recently, I've come across something amazing that has shocked me to my core, the food of my dreams, it's truly revolutionised my daily diet. SUPER NOODLES!  ･: * +. \ ((° ω °)) /.:+ ･:*+.\((°ω°))/.:+ ･:*+.\((°ω°))/.: + ･: * +. \ ((° ω °)) /.:+ (they are gluten-free). These noodles are made from rice. Some of you may wonder if these taste like Vietnamese pho noodles or vermicelli noodles since they are also made from rice but they are actually quite different in texture and taste. They are not as soft but instead they are firm and chewy like udon, ramen, and regular pasta (they are vacuum-packed as seen in the picture and it only takes a minutes to make them, amazing, right?).

For the most part I live gluten-free so I do my best to stay away from flour. For example, I usually eat ramen and udon about once a month or so, the last time I had pasta was in autumn last year (if I remember correctly?*laughs*). I had pizza at the end of the year! And I had some bread while we did a shoot the other day ♪ It was delicious ~ ♪

I'm not allergic to gluten, so I can eat it without any issue, and I honestly really love noodles and bread. But as we all know it's better not to eat too much flour. That's why I try to refrain from it. I love pasta so much that I used to eat it almost every day. Whenever I have some delicious pasta I get addicted and super greedy, I will feel the need to eat it again the next day and the next. That’s why I really try my best to stay away from that *laughs*. Pizza is really delicious as well, and when I eat it, I feel like having it every week, so it is also very high on my list of things I try to avoid as much as possible. There are many occasions where I am tempted to eat bread but I am not really addicted to it so I don’t suffer from withdrawal symptoms if I don't have it regularly, it’s not like I need to have it every day so I am fine with that *laughs*. Also, I don't have much desire to eat cakes or other types of desserts with flour, so I don't mind staying away from them. I have gotten stronger and more patient when it comes to udon and ramen so I can tolerate having them only once a month. I have actually not had udon in a while now ... since I love udon so much I want to eat it in Fukuoka ... (when I am in Fukuoka, I allow myself to eat as much udon as I want ♪)

Writing all of this I feel like many people might assume that I am overdoing it, that it might not be very healthy to deny myself all these foods but the truth is, this eating habit has become part of my life, it feels very natural to me. I have various options for my main and side dishes so it’s not troublesome at all and it doesn’t feel like I am missing out on anything(⌒ ▽ ⌒) ♪ And sometimes the ban is lifted and I will eat whatever I want ♪ But yeah, for the most part I just want to eat udon and pasta without having to worry about my body. And that’s possibe now. Thanks to the super noodles!!! My wish has come true!!!! (´ ； Д ； `) Really, a true revolution! These special "noodles" have joined the ranks of my favourite lunch foods (lunch is the only meal where I eat carbs)!! I have so much fun every day thinking of new ways to prepare my noodles *laughs* In the first picture you are seeing my basic lunch. Very lazily prepared *laughs*. And the follow-up picture is what happens if you use noodles instead of rice  ↓ ↓ ↓ I added a raw egg to the hot boiled super noodles, some Saku-Saku Crispy Soy Sauce and then sprinkled some sesame seeds on top, pure heaven. If you add some tomato sauce, it tastes just like regular tomato sauce pasta. The noodles look like real pasta, but it’s all made of rice. And they taste just like pasta!! A huge surprise!! Noodles by themselves aren’t the most nutritious food so I always make sure to have miso soup or natto on the side *laughs*. My lunch is in the midst of going through a great revolution!

Hello, this is Wakana (0￣ ▽ ￣0) /

My introduction turned out really long *laughs*. Yup, it’s a long wall of text this time *laughs*. If you are interested in a gluten-free diet, there are so many powerful and useful foods that will help you on your journey and provide peace of mind! \\\\ ٩ ('ω') و //// ♪

By the way, today is July 7th! It's Tanabata ☆ o (^ ▽ ^) o It gets cloudy on Tanabata every year so as expected it’s cloudy in Tokyo tonight too ... a shame~ (￣ ▽ ￣;)

Time flew by, it's already been two and a half months since my spring concert ... How is time going by so quickly? Prior to the release of the live Blu-ray, Victor's Official YouTube Channel released a digest video! The trailer is about 7 minutes long and you really get a proper feel for the live *laughs*. Please be sure to check it out~ ♪

And the other day we got to finally announce the musicians for "Wakana Anime Classic 2021" which will have its first performance in Osaka on August 15!!! Tadaaaa!!! 

Music Director / Piano: Shin Hashimoto (Sin) Violin: Koichiro Muroya Cello: Takahiro Yuki

Sin-san, the music director and pianist, has assisted me on many occasions, he contributed to the "Wakana Covers ~ Anime Classics ~" album and he has accompanied me on YouTube videos and other online events! The violinist Muroya-san has not only worked on my "Wakana Covers ~" album, he has also participated in the recording for many songs on my other albums! I have actually known the cellist Yuki-san ever since my days in Kalafina, back then he played the cello during various productions. Now that I have become a solo artist, he continues to be of help during recordings. Such a fantastic trio!! I think that the arrangements this time around will be simpler and the sound will be much more intimate. We want to carefully create immaculate arrangements so you can enjoy every second of the concert. I can’t wait for rehearsals to start ...! I think August will come in no time so I'm really just looking forward to the first live performance in Osaka (● ´ω ｀ ●) *excited* ♪

It's a little while before I can meet you in person but there will be an online sign event this Friday and Saturday ~ (* ^ ◯ ^ *) Just a little while longer! I'll be writing your names and adding my signature on these lovely sheets ~ (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵) Please look forward to it~! !!

Well then, let’s meet on the weekend! Until next time〜☆( *'▽’*)/

*** Wakana ***

2021/07/07 Instagram post by Wakana

More location photos! I went to a place of my dreams ~ 🌿🌿🌿 A country of plants! ️😆😆 I have been there several times already, there are many plants, flowers, gorgeous pots and fashionable vases every time I come here, it's truly a magical land that I never get tired of ... 🥰💕 Details of this location will be announced at a later date 😊 Please be patient a little while longer🎵 The second photo is featuring colourul vases in the shapes of vegetables and fruits ~ 😍🍓🍋🍍 🍓 I was worrying so much about whether to buy one or not ❗ (in the end I resisted). By the way, today is Tanabata 🎋 Please spend a wonderful night with your wishes in mind ✨🌠🌟🌠

Source

[gloomyhearts]

Mellillla || Owen P. Joyner

Chapter one~ I'll be dead

High school sweethearts as their friends called them but they were never in a relationship. Several years passed them when their life moved on. Will their paths meet again?

AN: Hey guys.. so here's my first Owen Joyner x fem!OC. Hope you enjoy it :)

The brunette girl hurried through the hallways to her next class, many other students stood by their lockers chattering with one another. Her flow was interrupted as someone grabber her arm making her stop.

"Why are you running, Dahl?" A breath of relief escaped her lips when she saw Lilith.

"We have a class in like two minutes," she argues.

Lilith let out a chuckle. "We have lunch you idiot" her chuckle grow into a loud laughter.

"What really?" Dahlia turns her left wrist to see the watch.

"What the.."

"You're hilarious," her hand resting on her abdomen from laughing.

"That's not funny," Dahlia's index pushed her glasses further on her nose.

"Come on, let's get you some food," the red haired girl grabbed her wrist pulling her to the cafeteria.

When they arrived there her graze felt on her group of friends sitting on one of the tables near the wall as always.

"You made it, D. Finally," Samuel raises his hand for her to high five it.

She came to a halt and her hand met a wet one.

"Why.. what was that," she groans bringing her hand up to her nose. It didn't smell at all.

"Chill it was just water" he holds his bottle up.

Dahlia rolled her eyes while sitting down.

"So what's your plan for the weekend?" Chloe asks.

"Well, I have volleyball on Saturday and Sunday there's this school play where the bands playing," Dahlia explains as she steals some carrots from Lilith.

"And after that?"

"Serious? After that I'm dead" she knitted one of her brows.

"There's a campfire at Josh's," Jacob suggests.

"Feel free to go" she gestures with her hand.

"Not without you D." He states.

"I'm not coming"

"Please Dahl," Emma had her puppy eyes as she pleaded.

"Guys.. fine, maybe" Dahlia grabs her backpack.

"Where you're going?"

"The break is over in a few. I'm just eluding the big crowd." She winked at them and made her way over to the door.

"She really left. What a girl" every single one at the table began to laugh.

After her last class the brunette had her last rehearsal for the show on Sunday. Her feet steps into the room and her eyes laid abruptly on this special person.

His cap was turned around and held most of his hair back yet single strands of his blonde hair were falling into his face as he played enthusiastic the drums.

She walked over to the piano and took a seat. Her finger run softly over the ivories. A shy small smile suited her lips, deep in her thoughts. Dahlia didn't noticed that someone walked over to her, she shrieks slightly as the shadow laid over her.

"Hey gurl," the familiar voice spoke.

"Val," Dahlia was on her feet again throwing her arms around her.

"I thought you wouldn't come"

"I can't miss this. You know" she rolled her eyes with a smile on her lips.

"Didn't saw you during break" she points.

"I came just for this" the blonde explains.

"Cause I couldn't do this without you"

"We're just rehearsing," Valerie laughs.

"I couldn't do it either," she retorts.

"I know."

"Please take your seats," the teacher shouts.

"We begin with song 3 cause y'all suck at it."

Dahlia was the first to play in this, she nervously let her fingers fly over the keys again. Then the drummer began quietly, giving it all a rhythm and then the rest. Their teacher was somewhat disgusted but also kinda hopeful that her class could do it just good.

"Dahlia, a little louder please," the named girl hit the keys a little harder and her teacher send her a thumb up.

The chords of the last song echoed through the room and the students as well as their teacher seemed pleased.

"Great guys. Go home and get some rest before sunday," the teacher suggests suggests as the music stops.

All the students gathered around the drums giving the person behind various compliments. Dahlia herself moved to the door already out of the room as her teacher calls after her.

"What's wrong?" She arrived at the table.

"You sure about the scholarship?" He questions.

"Yeah, I think I suck too much. I wouldn't make it in the business," Dahlia insists.

"Whatever you say sweetie. I don't wanna push you into something," he states.

Her graze falling on her hands.

"But it'd be a loss," Dahlia's view rose up.

"Thanks but.. I really don't know," she shrugged her shoulders.

"It's okay, Dahlia, really," he gave her a resuring smile. Dahlia nodds and waved to her as she made her way out.

"What did he wanted?" Valerie throws her arm around her shoulder guiding her to the exit.

"Just the scholarship thing"

"Just? Are you serious? Are you stupid? Actually don't answer. I thought we'd have a girl night. At 7 at mine?"

Dahlia nodds as an answer and went to her mother's car.

"See you baby," Valerie shouts after her, Dahlia just winked at her.

"Hi mom," she opens the passenger door and threw her backpack in, following it shortly after.

"Hey hun."

"Can I sleep over at Val's?"

"Yeah of course but don't forget your game tomorrow"

"She'll drive me there."

Actually Valerie is a senior like most of the people in the band but Dahlia is allowed, due to her outstanding grades and well playing, to be in the band. At first her parents were suspicious because the kids were all two til three years older than her innocent Dahlia.

But surprisingly the others hadn't a problem with her joining the band they were even keen. Mostly all of them.

"Can you maybe bring me to her?"

"Your sister said she's going to a friend too, she'll drop you there," she explains.

"Great," she comments. Well since Dahlia joined the band at the end of her freshman year, her sister hears her name more often from her friends having no spare time of her.

"I don't know where your problem is"

"Well since I joined her some of her friends in the band she hates me."

"She doesn't mean it like this. I think she's scared you're stealing her friends."

"That was a year ago and I haven't, not even one. Just Val," and that was the point.

Valerie and Serena were friends, best friends until high school started for them but Valerie and Dahlia became friends after two years off their "break up".

It wasn't pretty , it was filthy to be honest but it was Serena's fault mostly but that's yesterday's news.

"You're breaking the news to her," the young girl says as she exits the car.

When Dahlia entered her room the first thing she does is to put her glasses into its case, the second thing is to pack her suitcase for the weekend, during the drive home she clarified that she'd stay the whole weekend at her friend's house.

"I'm not driving you there," her sister rushes into the room.

"Well good afternoon to you too, sister," she comments.

"But it's literally on your way. You're even driving her road," dahlia adds.

"But I have to stop right in front of her home," Serena argues.

"I'd jump out the car," the brunette suggests.

"That's a great idea," she turns around and leaves as fast as she got in.

She's so dump Dahlia thought.

"I'm leaving on 6.30" Serena shouted through the door and a smile creeped on Dahlia's lips. She continues to push her things into the suitcase.

"You're moving out?" Her younger brother questions as she wandered to the stairs.

"Shut up."

"Just that you know. Mom says if you blow up the house she puts you up for adoption," she announced as her feet steps on the first stair.

"You ready?" Dahlia nodds and followed her sister behind.

The car ride was covered with silence, neither of them said a single word until they arrived at the front of Valerie's house.

"Thanks for driving me Serena," Dahlia gave her a weak smile as she grabs her suitcase and moved the way to the front.

"You're finally here," Valerie throws the door open and pulled her inside.

"Had Serena really droped you here?" Dahlia nodds, waving Val's parents as they walked past them.

"Hello dear. Nice to see you again," her mother greeted the brunette.

"You'll find us upstairs," she tells them.

[vansmaybeonthewall]

Another One?

Masterlist

requests are open 

i did promise something to my fellow Misha’s and it has been fulfilled  

(don’t judge the choices I make, no God can tame me)

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“So get this. Lake Cachuma, California. Three men found dead with their ears blown out. All three found at the same place, at the edge of a dock leading into the water.”

“And this is our thing how?”

“Well, they weren’t taking some lovely vacation Dean. All three were found in their suits with a little note spilling their secret infidelities.”

“That’ll do it. Do we have a lead?”

“Yeah, Cassandra Peters. Senior at Santa Barbara High School, her dad was the most recent victim.”

“I hope you packed your bikini Sammy, California here we come.”

A Few Hours Later...

Yeah, it wasn’t sunny and warm as Dean Winchester expected. Cloudy skies and a light breeze greeted Sam and Dean as they arrived at the Peters household. Thunder rumbled in the distance, signifying a coming storm. 

“Still ready for that swim Dean?”

“Oh shut up.”

“I don’t think you’ll need sunscreen anymore, I know how much you hate it.”

“Sam-

“Um, can I help you?”

The argument came to a halt when a young girl opened the door.

“Cassandra Peters?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you mind if we talk to you about-”

“My dad’s death? So does everyone else, so how are you any different?”

Sam and Dean were left speechless. Sure there were people who were defensive after a family death, but a teenage girl? Usually, day old mascara streaks could be seen with red, teary eyes. But Cassandra Peters? Her face was void of any emotion with dull eyes. 

“We know what it’s like,” Dean started, “to lose someone.”

“Yeah well, do you know what it’s like to learn that that person wasn’t someone you knew?”

“We understand if you don’t want to talk about it, nobody does, but sometimes it’s easier to tell someone how you actually feel.” Sam hoped that was enough to get the girl talking. 

She looked slightly guilty, I mean, they looked like nice guys. 

“Look, I’m sorry. A friend of mine taught me to stop the tears with being an asshole. I don’t see how it works or how she does it, but I guess it’s a coping mechanism. Not for me I suppose.”

“Believe us when we say we understand.”

“Well, seeing as you’re still here, ask away.”

“Okay, was there anything strange that occurred around the time your dad died?”

“Well besides the weather, I don’t think so. Like the two before, a rain storm hit without warning. The streets flooded, you could barely see in front of you.”

“What about your dad? Did he seem strange to you?”

“Yeah, maybe two days before he seemed nervous, scared. He kept saying someone was following him. Some girl in a white dress.”

“Did he say what she looked like?”

“You see, that’s the strange part. He said he saw Y/N, which is weird because she was with me or in rehearsal. And there is no way Y/N would skip rehearsal.”

“Do you know where we can find Y/N?”

“She should be at rehearsal now actually. She’s not in trouble is she?”

“No, we just need to check up on her, have a little chat.”

“She’s at the high school, but be careful, she really doesn’t like being interrogated about her parents or any family related subject. She gave me the tip of being an asshole instead of being depressed, still not seeing how that works.”

“Can we ask why?”

“Her step-dad was the first victim.”

“Right. Well, if you think of anything, give us a call. Even the smallest thing can help.”

Dean handed her the famous “business” card, which made Cassandra do a double-take. 

“Sam and Dean Winchester? As in Y/N Winchester?”

“Sorry?”

“Y/N Winchester, that’s who I’m talking about. You have the same name. Now come to think of it, you guys kind of look alike.”

Cassandra pulls a picture from her phone.

“This is Y/N.”

Sam and Dean share a look, one between shock and nervousness.

“Would you, uh, would you mind telling us about her?” Dean asked, afraid to know the truth. 

“I don’t see why not, this is some TV shit. But you should probably come in, the rain won’t be getting any better.”

The Peters household was quiet and empty. Even with all the lights on, the house was dark. What captured the brother’s attention was the pictures of Cassandra and Y/N. 

“So what do you wanna know?”

“Anything really.”

“Okay. Y/N Marie Winchester, where to start. Born June 25, 1989, she’s a Cancer. Tall, like you two. She has the kindest eyes, when she looks at her it’s like she can see into your soul. She acts tough at first, but once she lets you in she’s one of the funniest people you’ve ever known. Oh, absolutely hates dresses, her favorite things to wear are flannels and her leather jacket. God that leather jacket, she never takes that thing off. She loves to sing, always has. She doesn’t like to get close to people, it’s like she’s afraid they’ll get hurt or that maybe she’ll have to leave them behind.”

Sam smiled softly and Dean held a thoughtful look, Could there really be another Winchester?

“Wait, she has your smile. And she has that same look when taking a test. Do you really not know if you’re related?”

“No, no Y/N Winchester has came up.”

“Well, I’ll take you to her. One, I’d love for Y/N to have her family. Two, I need a source of happiness and this family reunion will do it.”

“Lead the way.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Okay, one more run through ‘World Burn’ and that’s a wrap. Y/N you ready?”

“Always.”

“Alright, from the top!”

Approx. a minute or two later, idk time 

As the trio made their way to the theatre, Cassandra could hear the chorus. 

“Come on! We’re gonna miss the best part.”

Lucky for them, they made it before the big note. 

“Gotta love a woman in power. Wait here, I’ll bring her to you.” Cassandra jogs towards Y/N as she jumped offstage. Greeting her with a hug, she explains her predicament. 

“A sister,” Dean started, “we might have a sister?”

“With the world we live in, I don’t find it impossible Dean.”

“But why would Dad-”

“Sam, Dean, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Sam and Dean. Winchester.”

“Okay, I get that, but that doesn’t automatically make us related Cass.”

“Stop being hard-headed. Why don’t you guys talk it out? I’ll meet up with Jessie. See you later jerk.” With that, Cassandra took a U-turn towards another student.

“Bitch.” Y/N called after her. She turned towards the two giants, making a face at their surprised ones. “What?”

“Nothing, do you mind if we talk to you outside?”

“I don’t see why not.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Holy shit! Is that a 1967 Chevy Impala? Please tell me it’s yours, I’ll tell you all my life secrets if it is.”

“Uh, yeah, it is.” Dean stuttered. The information the brothers were learning kept hitting them in the face. Is she really a Winchester?

“Yes! Let us congregate at this lunch table and I’ll spill my tragic life story.”

“So, you sing?”

“Yeah, best thing that’s ever happened to me. Everyone says I took it from my mom, but who knows, not me that’s for sure. Me and Cass are also in a band, which reminds me, I have to be somewhere in two hours, so if we could do this a little fast that would be great thanks.”

Dean, unlike Sam, wanted to get straight to the point. Why ease into the subject when it is so painfully obvious she’s a Winchester?

“What do you know about your dad?”

“Not much really, I just know he took off before I was born. I lived with my mother until I was about 5. Then my quote unquote “dad” came back into my life and my mother disappeared. Stayed with him for about a year, met a lot of strange people, and I was finally dropped off with some random couple here. Terrible parenting, but here I am alive and well I guess. But he did leave me some sort of book, more of a copy.”

Both brothers were intrigued in her life story. A strange life, a Winchester life. Y/N pulled the book out of her backpack, but when she did her shirt allowed the top of the anti-possession tattoo to peak out. Everything was pointing towards the fact that the three were related, but we can’t have any stones left unturned can we?

“Did that book say anything about your dad? A name, a picture maybe?” Sam was anxious.

“There was a letter when the book was first given to me with the initials J.W. but that’s it. I don’t think he wants to be found.” A solemn look crossed her face. “Well, that was fun, but I have to go.”

“Wait-”

“Look, you guys seem nice and it would be cool if we were related somehow, but I have a place to be. You’re welcome to come by though. I’ll give you my number, and maybe we could talk tomorrow. I should have more time seeing that it is Saturday tomorrow. It was nice meeting you Sam and Dean. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

As she walked away, Sam and Dean formed a plan. First, kill whatever monster terrorizing the town, then find out who the hell Y/N Winchester was.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

So close, but apparently so far. Upon looking in the journal, Sam and Dean found  a new monster, a siren. And though the monster seemed to be a siren, something wasn’t right. The bleeding ears made no sense. No siren case had bleeding ears. However, banshee cases dealt with bleeding ears, but no bodies near water. There was only one answer.

Break time. 

Y/N had sent Dean a message about the bar her band would be at, so the brothers decided to find out as much as they could about the girl before heading there.

“Dean, there’s nothing in the journal and I’ve read through it twice, what else are we missing?”

“Missing...missing...missing! Sammy, you’ve outdone yourself.” Dean reached into his pocket and pulled the stolen letter.

“Dean!”

“What! It slipped out of her journal.” Bitchface. “Okay, maybe I slipped it out of her journal, it doesn’t matter. What matters is that we can compare Dad’s handwriting with the letter. And then you can hack into hospital records to find her birth certificate.”

“I am not hacking into the hospital records.”

“Oh c’mon Sammy, don’t you want to know who she is?”

“Of course I do, but I don’t want to get arrested while doing it.”

“Whatever, just give me the journal.”

Dean was only going to skim over the handwriting before something caught his eye. Information that wasn’t shared lay on the paper. The J.W was obvious on the bottom, but what caught his eyes were his name, Sam’s name, and an unfamiliar one. 

“That little bitch.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It took too long, it took too long, it took too long For you to call back And normally, I would just forget that Except for the fact it was my birthday My fuckin' birthday

Sam and Dean entered the bar, a bar that apparently allowed teenagers in, and spotted Y/N on the small stage. They could see why she needed to leave, not only to get them off her tail, but for all the other students partying their asses off.

We got along, we got along, we got along Until you did that Now all I want is just my stuff back Do you get that? Let me repeat that I want my shit back  

“So what’s the plan?”

“One we have to get her away from everyone else. Two, we can’t let her out of our sight. Remember what Cassandra said, the weather aligns with a body being found the next day. And since we don’t know the next victim, we have to hold Y/N hostage somehow.” 

“Where do we take her? She’s not going to abandon her friends Dean.”

“I don’t know, tell her we found something about Dad or her mom. Technically, we’re not lying, so don’t feel bad about it.” 

“Yeah, yeah alright.”

The two parted ways, searching for inconspicuous exits while watching Y/N. Though, it didn’t take long before Y/N spotted Sam. 

“Hey Sam, glad you made it. Where’s Dean?”

“He’s around here somewhere. Look, I needed to talk to you about your dad. We think we found something.”

“Now?”

“Yeah, I mean, if you can.”

“Now’s not really a good time. We can’t pick this up tomorrow?”

“It’s ki-” “Sammy!”

“Oh hey Y/N, mind if we talk to you for a second?”

“I can’t leave-”

“Yeah, but we really need to talk to you.” Dean had a smug smirk holding up the letter. 

“Fine.” 

Outside...

“So Y/N, you got anything important to tell us?”

“Nothing you don’t already know Dean.”

“Wrong answer.”

“Dean-”

“No Sammy, she needs to start telling the truth before someone gets hurt. Like little Cassie’s dad or Jessie’s dad.” 

“What do you want from me Dean?”

“You see, we were here on a case, but I bet you already knew that. Three people were killed, your step-dad, Matthew Jacobs, and Holt Peters, but you already knew that. All three said they saw a girl in white, and what do you know, it was you. We thought we solved the case, but nothing fit the banshee or siren profile. Imagine my surprise when I find my name along with Sam’s and a little gift. Athena Drea, some hybrid between a banshee and a siren. Fits the profile doesn’t it? Oh but that’s not all, Dad knew her, dear old John Winchester knew your mommy. And I’m betting that she disappeared because her time was up. What I don’t understand is your name? Why were you blessed with some form of mom’s name? What is so special about Y/N Marie Winchester?”

Angry tears streamed down Y/n’s face.

“Congratulations Dean Winchester. You figured me out.”

“Y/N-”

“No, it’s fine Sam, he’s right. What’s so special about me? The fact that I have no parents? That I have my mother’s powers? That I’m related to you? Nothing good comes with being me. There’s always a catch. Those people I killed? They tried to kill me first. Those lies about cheating, made them up. Yes it’s sick and twisted, but I’m still alive right? I’m lucky? I tried to protect you from knowing me, from being related to me. Why do you think I never reached out to you? Everyone around me gets hurt. My friends don’t know me like they think they do, I killed their dad! There is nothing special about me, and god if there is, I’d really like to know. Because all I know is that I’m a screw up with no family. So forgive me for running and lying.”

She tried to leave, but an arm on her shoulder prevented her from doing so. 

“You two should go, leave before something else happens. There’s no monster to kill, but I’d gladly let you kill me. That wouldn’t be the worst thing that’s happened to me.”

“Y/N.”

She shrugged his hand off and started to run.

“Y/N!”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You were right, I should have never gotten attached.”

It was dark, the only source of light came from the moon. The sounds of the lake calmed Y/N from the harsh argument. 

“People got hurt.”

The quiet brought her peace.

“Some were innocent. Cass and Jessie, they didn’t deserve their family to fall apart.”

It took Sam and Dean quite a while to find Y/N. 

“I met them. Sam and Dean, they seem nice, but I screwed up mum. I lied and I don’t think they like me much anymore. It was nice to know that I had family out there. I know dad told me in the letter, but I didn’t think we would meet. You know how it goes, hunters and monsters don’t mix.”

Sneaking behind her wasn’t easy.

“I don’t understand mum. I don’t know what to do anymore. I can’t stay here anymore. I’ll have to leave and I won’t have anybody anymore.”

“You have us.”

She whipped around to find her brothers awkwardly standing there. 

“What do you two bozos want?”

Sam took the initiative, “We want you to come with us.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re family,” Dean surprisingly said, “and family means no one gets left behind.”

With that, the three had a slightly awkward, yet welcomed group hug,

Hours later.....

Everything was sorted. Y/N was leaving with Sam and Dean, and it was exciting. No more school, Sam sort of disapproved on that. A constant road trip with her family. Although, they would encounter many obstacles in their journey. 

Only one thing was left in Y/N’s mind. She sat in the backseat of the Impala and couldn’t resist it any longer.

“Hey Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you just Lilo & Stitch me back there?” Sam laughed and Y/N started to giggle.

“Shut up.” But he looked out his window with a smile.

She really was a Winchester.

[rocknvaughn]

New Colin Morgan Interview from the Sunday London Times 23 February 2020 (Typed out for those who need to translate)

Colin Morgan interview: the star of TV’s Merlin on why theatre is still his greatest love

The Northern Irish actor likes to avoid the obvious. He’s a perfect choice for Caryl Churchill’s disturbing two-hander A Number

Colin Morgan strolls out of rehearsal at the Mountview drama school, south London, with a smile on his face and a woollen cap pulled down on his black curls. He’s 34, but doesn’t look much older than the students rushing to lunch around him. Yet in the packed years since he left college — to take a leading role at the Young Vic — he has established himself as one of the best and most original actors around.

Whether on stage in acclaimed productions of Brian Friel’s Translations at the National and Arthur Miller’s All My Sons at the Old Vic, or on television in The Fall and Humans, he has a knack for finding a different aspect to a character, refocusing them in often revelatory lights. “I suppose I am interested in characters who are misfits,” he says with a grin, in his rolling Northern Irish accent. “Characters who may on the surface appear to be part of society, but actually internally, in their world, don’t feel like they are.”

He is starring opposite Roger Allam at the Bridge Theatre in Caryl Churchill’s elusive, disturbing A Number, about a father and his cloned sons. It’s a characteristically bold choice for someone whose instinct has always been to avoid the obvious. “The road I like to walk down is the one where you can’t see round the corners,” he says.

Given that, it’s a fascinating irony that Morgan is still best recognised for the role that launched him to fame: the titular Merlin in the BBC TV series, for four years from 2008. A rethinking of the Arthurian legends that put the young wizard at its centre, it started off as a children’s favourite and became something more. “It turned into a main-slot drama on Saturday night, which I hadn’t really anticipated.” He took the part because of his love of a challenge. “All I saw was the opportunity to do something that was on me, on my shoulders,” he says, with that disarmingly gentle smile. “I had only done one bit of filming, for an episode of Doctor Who, before then. It was an amazing experience.”

It did, nevertheless, change his life, making him recognised in ways that were not always easy. “You meet people who have grown up with it. You realise that you have been part of their life. Sometimes it’s hard to take that on board, because each individual has a different experience with something that essentially is not who you are. I must pale in comparison.”

Morgan is engaging company. He isn’t exactly reserved, but he does seem very private, making absolutely no comments about his domestic life, and quite shy. He stays completely away from social media — “I think if I had some platform it would be just part of my need. I have no attachment to technology, it’s not my go-to thing” — which means he is insulated to some extent from the frenzy his appearances provoke among his legions of fans. He hasn’t, for example, read any of the feverish excitement surrounding his brief appearance as a “hot journalist” in an episode of The Crown. “I know what people tell me. Which is bizarre, because it was just a few scenes in one episode of a show I was a fan of. I had that experience and I loved it. What happens afterwards is not in your control. It’s just mad.”

Looking back on the early days, when Merlin took off, he is thoughtful. “You are not really equipped to deal with these things. I was used to going into the theatre each day, doing the show and going home. I still feel like that’s my job. Then you realise that when you do other things, you have to be there for the promotion. That was the big adjustment. I don’t enjoy it.”

There is nothing in Morgan’s background in Armagh, Northern Ireland, to suggest a glittering career as an actor. But from a young age, performing with local drama groups, he knew it was what he wanted to do. “I was just fascinated by everything in school productions, watching things, being fascinated by what was behind the sets. The idea of this mysterious world behind what you could see.

“To this day, I get that childlike curiosity and excitement about being backstage — before you step on stage and everything changes. You are on your own, completely, then in a second you are in the company of hundreds. It’s an amazing transition.” He adds pensively: “I feel more comfortable on stage than I do off. That’s the weird thing.”

Morgan’s talent and determination took him to drama school in Glasgow; in his final year, he met Rufus Norris, then associate director of the Young Vic, who cast him in Vernon God Little. He was off and running in an unbroken line of work that has taken in film — he recently starred opposite Rupert Everett in The Happy Prince — TV and the stage. “I want to do that juggling act my whole life if I can. I never want to be just the one thing.”

Yet theatre holds his heart. “I will never, ever not do theatre,” he says firmly. His pleasure at rehearsing A Number under the direction of Polly Findlay is obvious. “What’s great in the room is that there is a combination of fun and seriousness. I’ve never done a two-hander before. It’s a different ball game — thankfully a good game, this one.” Predictably, it was “the impossibility of it” that attracted him to the part. “I had so many questions.” Normally, he prepares by trying to put himself in the environment of a play: for Translations, he took a trip to Donegal, where the drama is set. “Just to breathe that kind of air up there and bring that back over to London with you.”

For A Number, it’s different. “A lot of time was spent with the script as a catalyst for the imagination.” Churchill herself has been in rehearsals — but, like her plays, she doesn’t provide any easy answers. “You might ask her something specific, and she will literally say it could be that. Or it could be that. She is fantastic and liberating.” He looks cheerful. “You mustn’t put any of your inhibitions in the way. You just have to be incredibly open and disciplined to what’s there.” He might be talking about his entire career.

A Number, Bridge Theatre, London SE1, until March 14

Link here: (Behind Paywall)

[skzsauce01]

In Fair Verona︱Chapter 10

Synopsis: Jisung knows he is the Romeo to your Juliet. He could wax poetry about you all throughout rehearsal and even a little after. Except Hwang Hyunjin is the one playing Romeo in the school play, not him. Jisung is just another tech crew member that you don’t know, but he’s determined to win your heart... by any means necessary.

Warning: violent thoughts

Word Count: 3.2k

Pairing: fem!reader x Jisung; fem!reader x Hyunjin

updates every Wednesday and Sunday @ 11 PM PST︱chapter list

Two household, both alike in dignity

In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,

From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,

Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.

Opening night has arrived. Tech crew’s call time is 5:30 PM, and Jisung pulls into the parking lot just a few minutes later. The late afternoon sun is low in the sky, and he has to squint through the light when he runs up the steps to the auditorium. The entrance leading to the lobby is predictably locked, but he doesn’t have time to take the long way. He peers through the tiny window and sees nobody in the immediate vicinity. He pounds against the heavy metal door, hoping someone hears him. When no one shows up, he growls to himself and texts the tech group chat. No answers. Seconds later, you appear, walking by with a box of programs. He doesn’t want your help, but he doesn’t want to get a verbal lashing for being late either. Jisung hits the door again, and you almost drop the box.

“Y/N!” he shouts. “Open!”

With wide eyes, you quickly push open the door for him with the side of your body and go back to place down the programs. You’re dressed in the same shirt he is. While he normally would be delighted at this coincidence, he’s repulsed now, knowing that you stabbed him in the back a mere twenty-four hours ago. You don’t say hello to him, and he doesn’t either.

“Thanks,” he roughly says, avoiding eye contact with you.

You don’t say a single word back.

He swings open the door to the auditorium with more force than necessary, and it knocks against the metal trash can. He’s greeted by a song with a thumping bass and Chan’s rapping.

“What’s happening?” Jisung asks no one in particular. He’s glad that he hasn’t missed anything though. He settles down in a seat in front of the soundboard and watches different colored lights flash across the cyclorama. A couple of silhouetted bodies dance on stage.

“Felix found out two of the actors are dancers,” Changbin replies. “Chan wanted to play his new song, and Jeongin just went along with it.”

Jisung nods, but he doubts Changbin notices in the darkness anyway. Jisung himself can’t make out who’s who. Another figure later appears on stage and shouts in Mr. Gi’s voice, “What are you guys doing?”

The lightshow stops, and the music volume drops to a whisper. Felix, Hyunjin, and the guy playing Mercutio pause in the middle of their dance off. Hyunjin’s smirk is starting to slide off his face, and Jisung feels the sudden urge to drag the corners of his mouth down with barbed hooks. He would look a lot better if he had a perpetual frown.

Felix hesitantly offers, “Sound and light check?”

Mr. Gi lets out a short laugh before turning serious. “We’re going to run through tech now.”

Everyone springs into their usual positions, while the two actors return to wherever they were before. Jisung gives Hyunjin a sufficiently long glare as he walks out the side door. The real sound and light check then begins. Occasionally, the floor crew is needed to set up the stage and to practice for blackouts. Jisung envies Seungmin, who is assistant tech director. He gets to relax for the night.

Before the main doors open, pictures are taken, one of cast, one of crew, and one of everyone involved. Jisung doesn’t miss the fact that Hyunjin has an arm slung around you and that you’re twisting the silver ring on his finger. He looks around and, to his disbelief, discovers that no one cares. The very people surrounding the two of you are busy adjusting their hair and clothes while waiting for the parent volunteer to take the photo.

“3, 2, 1!”

Jisung snaps back to the camera with thinly veiled irritation. Another picture is taken, and the brittle smile he has on is threatening to break. There are calls for a funny picture, and while he normally would be excited, he wants to get away from you and Hyunjin’s public displays of affection. In the next picture, he and Changbin give each other bizarre looks and shoot finger guns at each other, while you and Hyunjin reenact one of your fake endings to Romeo and Juliet.

Disgusting.

During the play, Jisung does his best to stay attentive to Felix and Changbin’s calls. He’s more talkative in the comms now that he realizes what a waste of time the last two weeks were pining after you. He jokes with his friends, and he’s happier than he's been in days. He learns that the stage kisses are now real kisses, and Hyunjin doesn’t bother obscuring the action. Both the crew and the audience cheer loudly when they see it.

During your costume change, he boldly watches you shimmy out of your dress and observes your protruding spine when you bend down to pick up the fallen garment. If he throws one of the metal counterweights from the fly rail system at you, he thinks, you would drop dead.

So would any other person, but he gets a certain thrill when he pictures Hyunjin finding your crumpled up body on the floor. It’s all Hyunjin’s fault anyway. He would get what he deserved.

Strangely — well, maybe not — Jisung actually enjoys the play now. The death scene, which hurt him to watch before, is his favorite part. It’s a fitting ending, you and Hyunjin dying together after all the casualties you caused. He feels vindicated. When the main curtain comes down, he’s almost disappointed.

There’s a crowd of lingering people in the audience after the show ends and when the post-show music starts playing. While you and Hyunjin take (more) pictures with each other, your friends, and families after the show, Jisung once again sits in the row in front of the soundboard, taking in everything happening. Your friends have signs and flower bouquets, and you happily receive them all. Hyunjin momentarily disappears before coming back with a dozen roses for you.

“Romeo’s got game,” Seungmin, who has taken over photography duty, lowly whistles. He picks up his camera and snaps a photo.

Jisung grits his teeth and doesn’t say a single word. You place a shocked hand over your mouth before shyly kissing him on the cheek. There’s another click of the camera.

“They’re dating,” Ryujin announces.

“How do you know?” Seungmin asks. “And why didn’t we know about this news?”

“Yeji told me today when we were getting lunch, and it’s none of your business anyway,” she shrugs. “But it’s been pretty obvious they’ve been crushing on each other since rehearsal started.”

“Who’s Yeji?” Jeongin interrupts.

“Lady Montague, looks like Hyunjin?”

“Who’s Hyunjin?”

“Romeo?” she answers incredulously. “It’s been two weeks!”

“I sit back here and turn the lights on and off!”

While they bicker, the audience members still around slowly start leaving. You wave goodbye to your friends and promise to meet your parents in the lobby after you’re done. The ushers begin walking through the aisles to check for trash, and the actors go to the dressing room to change out of costume. Then Mr. Gi gives out the tech notes for the night.

There’s only a few critiques, and Jisung is satisfied that Felix can’t rib him for any mistakes. While notes are ongoing, you hand back two mic packs to Chan, explaining that one of them is Hyunjin’s. Jisung notices that you’re wearing the jacket you supposedly returned to Hyunjin. It’s unzipped and hangs loosely on your frame. It could have been his jacket there. Another shred of anger rips through him, and he looks away, no longer gritting his teeth but grinding. You prance to the classroom, and he hopes one of the lights falls from its fixture and lands you in the hospital.

After notes are finished, the tech director congratulates them all on a job well done, and they’re all free to leave. It’s late, and Jisung’s excited to go home. He spots your parents milling around the lobby, making awkward small talk with the drama students selling grams. You’re almost a carbon copy of your mother, down to the way her eyes widen when a new person enters the room. He politely smiles, and she returns the gesture like you would have last week. It’s another reminder of what he could have had.

He’s on autopilot the drive home. He rolls at least two stop signs, but there’s luckily no one around in those four way streets. He has an unfinished plan in his mind, and he desperately needs it to be complete. It was previously tailored for Hyunjin, so he makes a few adjustments to include you.

The rest of the night he spends researching online. The glow of his screen illuminates his face in the darkness and reflects off of his bluelight glasses. His back hurts from being hunched over for three hours, but his scheme is ready. As he shuts down his laptop, he stretches, enjoying the tension released from his shoulders and mind. He’ll sleep well tonight, very well.

—

The second show is the day after opening night on Saturday. This time Jisung arrives a solid twenty minutes before his call time. He’s been in a good mood all day; he woke up refreshed and energized, and he even made a quick trip to the local flower shop to buy a beautiful blue monkshood plant for his mother. He takes the long way to the auditorium, knowing that he’s likely the first tech crew member to arrive.

He passes by the green room and spots you eating dinner alone. There are other actors and extras nearby, but you’re sitting at a center table, scooping fried rice into your mouth. How pathetic. He can hear a sword fighting scene being rehearsed on stage, and he’s certain Hyunjin’s part of it. He wonders why you aren’t cheering on your Prince Charming. Surely, you like him more than your terrible, burnt rice. The old Jisung would have jumped at the opportunity to be around you, but the enlightened Jisung strides to the stage, unaffected by your charms.

He’s proud of himself. He feels no rush of rage when he sees you anymore, and when he sees Hyunjin stab Tybalt with a wooden sword, he’s calm. He walks to the back of the auditorium, where Chan has his own headphones on and Felix is furiously tapping his phone screen.

“You guys are here early,” Jisung remarks, taking Jeongin’s chair.

“Nothing better... to do,” Felix mumbles, clearly concentrated on whatever game he’s playing.

Chan is engrossed in his own world, bobbing his head to the music and drumming his fingers across the board. Jisung leans back in his seat and checks Hyunjin’s Instagram. As he expects, his latest post is a photo of you and him from last night. You hold the roses he gave you, and he has an arm around your waist. The caption simply reads, “Opening night.” Satisfied with his findings, Jisung turns back to the stage, where the actors are starting their fight from the beginning again.

As time goes on, he loses interest, and more of the crew starts arriving. Jisung later waits in the lobby, opening doors for anyone too lazy to take the long way around. He’s reading gardening forum posts about monkshood when you and one of the house managers come by with more programs, predicting how packed it will be tonight. He glances up momentarily before deciding to ignore you. He can’t help but feel a tiny bit of resentment when you try to meet his eye. Where was all that a few days ago?

“Hi, Jisung,” you cautiously greet, seemingly trying to dissolve the tension between the two of you. You still have that scared deer look though.

While the house manager gives him a curt nod and then disappears into the auditorium, you linger around.

“Hey,” he replies and leaves it at that. He’s over you, and he doesn’t want any reason to come crawling back.

“Opening night went well.”

“Yeah.”

“How many people do you think will come tonight? I think at least a hundred.”

“I don’t know.”

You try to continue the conversation — though it barely qualifies as one — and Jisung shuts down every attempt you make. He doesn’t want you anymore, not after you strung him along with your jokes and smiles and then ran off into the sunset with Hyunjin.

There’s a knock on the door, and he absentmindedly opens it for Yugyeom, who’s out of breath from running up the stairs.

“Thanks,” he manages to get out. “Have we started yet?”

“I think we’re about to,” Jisung answers. “Bye, Y/N.”

He opens the auditorium doors for Yugyeom and lets it swing shut after him before you have the opportunity to slip inside.

Fine. Maybe he’s still a little angry at you, but it would be insane to think that he would be completely over you after all the interactions he’s had with you.

He follows Yugyeom to stage right. While sound and lights are being tested, the floor crew waits patiently in the wings. Ryujin slides the hangers across the rack, counting the number of costumes, and Yugyeom makes sure all the props are in order. With nothing better to do, Jisung stands by him and watches as he rearranges the items on the table. He sees two chemistry tube looking containers, and he can’t help but reach for them.

“Do they actually drink this?” Jisung asks as he picks up a clear vial filled with green liquid. “And what is this?”

“Just colored water,” he shrugs. “And yeah, they drink it. Hyunjin asked if I could change it every day since he and Y/N use it as a water break on stage. He said Ms. Park was okay with it.”

Jisung remembers the vial Hyunjin drinks from in the death scene. He grimaces as he sets down the container, suddenly feeling contaminated.

“Water, but not coffee or something?”

Yugyeom shrugs again. “He said water. And also, water is free.”

“But not food coloring.”

“Ms. Park asked the culinary class for some. Wanna help me change out the water?”

Jisung looks around and sees that Changbin is scrolling through his phone, eyes glazed over, tuned out of what’s happening despite wearing a headset. “Sure. It’s not like I have anything better to do.”

Jisung and Yugyeom take the vial of poison and Juliet’s sleeping draught. Apparently, you used that as a water break as well. Though Yugyeom asked him to help, Jisung does nothing but observe. It’s not like he needs the aid either; all he has to do is dump the water in the bushes, refill from a water fountain, and stir in a few drops of food coloring. The sleeping potion is a midnight blue, while the poison is a murky green. Neither look particularly appetizing, and he wonders how anyone would be able to drink either without feeling sickened.

When they return to the stage, Jisung goes back to his usual spot and continues waiting. In the meantime, he resumes reading about monkshood. Apparently, their roots are especially toxic.

The show that night goes well. He doesn’t know the exact number of audience members, but when he peeked past the curtain before the show began, he saw that at least half the seats were filled. During the death scene, Jisung pays close attention. Hyunjin’s back faces him, so he doesn’t know if he actually did drink it. He does get a good look at you, and he sees you kiss Hyunjin squarely on the lips with no hesitation.

At the end of the night, he waits by the soundboard for all the audience members to leave before tech notes can begin. The main cast stays around, talking to people they know and taking pictures with them. You don’t get any flowers this time, but a random girl with adoring eyes gives Hyunjin yellow and pink roses. There’s not a hint of jealousy on your face, and Jisung feels strangely irked by that. Hyunjin accepts the flowers sheepishly and shyly introduces her to you, his co-star and girlfriend. The girl’s expression falls, and Jisung empathizes with her. He’s been there before.

Seungmin’s snapping pictures, and he takes one of Hyunjin holding the flowers. “A potential love triangle?”

“No way,” Ryujin replies. “Hyunjin’s head over heels for Y/N.”

“Y/N’s Juliet, right?” Jeongin asks. Ryujin opens her mouth, but he cuts her off. “Right. She is.”

Felix chimes in, “Minho said that Hyunjin’s totally in love with her. They are cute together.”

The old Jisung would be outraged by those statements from his friends, but the new Jisung agrees with those remarks. Even he has to admit that the two of you make a pretty picture together. You and Hyunjin perfectly deserve to be with each other for the rest of your lives.

“Who’s Minho?” Jeongin expectedly asks.

“Mercutio,” Felix answers. “The other guy in the dance off yesterday.”

The gossip dies down when they notice you and Hyunjin heading over with your mics. Chan strikes up a discussion about the cast and crew dinner after the last show next week, and everyone immediately gets excited. Chan takes the mic packs from you two, and Hyunjin sticks around for a bit. He murmurs something to you, and you nod before leaving. Jisung doesn’t miss the nervous look in his direction, like you’re trying to work up the nerve to approach him. Jisung snaps his stare away.

“It’s at District 9 this time,” Jisung says, taking care to not include him. Hyunjin could have you, but he’s not going to let you take away his friends, too.

Chan groans. “Again? Their food sucks.”

“What’s at District 9?” Hyunjin says.

“Oh, right. I keep forgetting you’re new since you’re the lead. The cast and crew dinner. We all go to a restaurant and eat together after the final show,” Felix explains. “We usually go to District 9. Their food’s okay.”

“Their food sucks,” Chan echos.

“It’s not that bad,” Jisung counters. “You ate everything on your plate last time.”

“Because I was hungry! And because Jeongin ate my snack!”

“You let me have it!”

A side conversation starts up, and Hyunjin stands awkwardly at the side, not understanding the references and inside jokes. It’s petty, but Jisung wants Hyunjin to hurt as much as possible before next week when he won’t ever have the opportunity again. Mr. Gi finally finishes chatting with a colleague of his and starts tech notes. Hyunjin looks relieved to have an excuse to leave.

Notes are short, given that it’s a Sunday night and that they did well overall. They’re reminded that they have two more shows next weekend before they’re dismissed for the night. Jisung, feeling drained by all that’s happened, silently cheers before walking out to his car through the main doors.

Under the yellow streetlights, he sees you hold hands with Hyunjin as you make your way to his car. Hyunjin laughs at something you say and tucks one of the pink flowers from his fangirl into your hair so tenderly, Jisung has to look away.

Hyunjin is so in love with you, and you with him. It sickens Jisung to his core, but he has a remedy for this illness.

~ ad.gray

[flipomatic]

A New World Chapter 4: Entangled Schedules

First Chapter Previous Chapter

As Lisa played the familiar song, the bass line melding with the guitar, she remembered how great it felt when the whole band was in sync. Song I Am, which had once been new, now felt familiar, like coming home. The drums carried the beat, the guitar supported it, the piano flitted under their sound, the vocals rang clearly, and the bass glued them all together.

It had been a while, far too long in Lisa’s opinion, since the band had been able to practice all together like this. Ever since the school year started, with four of the members at university, they had been struggling to meet for rehearsal.

First, their class schedules were all vastly different from each other. They didn’t only have class before 3:00 pm, like they did in high school and they all attended class in different parts of the city. In addition, they had a lot of homework, additional practice, and other events outside of classes. Rinko had already missed a couple rehearsals to practice for school, with Sayo missing one as well for a late scheduled class session. With their constantly changing schedules, trying to schedule new practices was an ongoing struggle.

Today though, on this glorious Sunday, the whole band was able to make it. Yukina had a meeting thirty minutes after rehearsal ended, but that didn’t matter. They were all there.

Lisa looked to her left, where Yukina stood at the mic stand. She sang as she always did, with power and control. Past her, Lisa could see Sayo. She was almost smiling, looking more content than she usually did.

They were almost at the end of their rehearsal time, after practicing quite a few of their songs. As they finished Song I Am, Yukina turned back towards the band. She nodded once, acknowledging how well they had played. Despite not rehearsing for a while, they were still the best.

“Are there any others you want to run through?” Lisa asked, drawing the others’ attention to her. They could probably squeeze one more song in, though that would be cutting their end time close.

“No, I think we’re done for today.” Yukina replied, turning to look at Sayo for confirmation.

Sayo nodded a couple times, “Yes, this has been sufficient.” In the back, Rinko stuttered out an agreement.

With that verdict, the band started to pack up. Lisa stowed her bass and zipped the case up, leaving it on the ground for a minute.

Before the band could head out, there was something they still needed to do. Lisa called for their attention again once they had all put their instruments away.

“I’m still working on scheduling rehearsal for next week.” She said, noting the shift in Sayo’s expression. She was frowning now, clearly displeased. Rinko looked nervous too. “I’m thinking about Wednesday in the afternoon, around 4:00. Does that work for you?” She glanced from person to person, already knowing from their expressions that it wouldn’t.

“I have to be on campus that afternoon.” Yukina said, crossing her arms. “Can we do it later?”

“I’ll need to talk to the studio, but yeah probably.” Lisa pulled out her phone to look at her calendar. “Wait, I have to work that night.” So no, they couldn’t practice then.

“Hmm.” Yukina brought a hand up to her chin. Next to her, Sayo had her phone out as well.

“What about Friday afternoon?” Sayo asked, still with her eyes on her phone.

This time it was Rinko who objected. “I-I have classes then.” She looked sheepish, like she regretted saying it.

The mood in the studio, which had been high before, felt like it had plummeted. The new semester had barely started, but they were already having so much trouble planning rehearsals. It used to be so easy, at the same time in the afternoon, but now there always seemed to be a least one member who was busy.

Roselia couldn’t go a whole week without practicing. “Maybe Friday evening instead.” Lisa offered, since she knew none of them had classes in the evening. “I’ll talk to the studio and see what’s available.” She glanced around at each member, waiting for an objection. This time, none came.

“Thank you, Lisa.” Yukina sounded relieved, since for once they all seemed to be available.

With that decided, the band was able to disperse. Lisa made sure she had all of her belongings as they left the practice studio together.

As they neared the front of Circle, she broke away from the group to talk with Marina. The woman was behind the counter as usual, supervising the studio.

“How was your rehearsal today?” Marina asked as Lisa approached, a beaming smile on her face as usual. Ako, Rinko, and Sayo proceeded out of the studio while Lisa talked with her. Yukina stopped near the door, turned so she could watch as Lisa bargained for a time slot.

Lisa lifted one hand in a small shooing gesture for Yukina to leave, so she wouldn’t be late for her meeting. Yukina didn’t budge.

“Pretty good!” Lisa gave up on Yukina, turned back towards Marina, and smiled, trying to cheer herself back up. The actual rehearsal part had gone quite well. “Do you have a studio available for Friday night?”

Marina looked at her computer, typing something on the keyboard. “Let me see.” She said, clicking her mouse a few times. “Hmm, the latest I can do is 3:00.”

Lisa’s mood collapsed back down, like a deflating balloon. “Nothing after 5:00?” She asked, just to make sure.

Marina shook her head. “No, but I have some openings on Saturday, at 11:00 am and 4:00 pm.”

Lisa fought back a sigh, not wanting to show her disappointment. “I’ll talk to the band.”

“Alright, have a nice evening!” Marina waved enthusiastically, which Lisa returned with about half the energy. She said goodbye and then turned to walk towards the exit.

Yukina still lingered there, her lips turned in a slight frown. “Saturday might be tough.” She said as Lisa reached her, moving to walk together out the door.

“Yeah, we’ll make it work though.” Lisa replied, far more optimistically than she felt.

_________________________________________________

Lisa wasn’t sure how she was going to make this schedule work.

It was Monday now, and she was on campus for the day. She had a class in the morning, then a couple hour gap before her next one. During that time, she walked to the cafeteria to get some food and to tackle to problem of Roselia’s practice schedule.

She sat alone at a table for four, with just her thoughts for company. Thinking about it like this didn’t make it any easier to fix.

No, all it did was remind her that between the five of them, there was very little time available for practice. They all seemed to have overlap issues. This was just for rehearsal; she hadn’t even dealt with performances yet.

Lisa pondered it as she ate her lunch, how she should proceed.

The first thing she needed was to be able to see the schedule easier. Right now, each member was chiming in when they couldn’t make a practice. This was okay in the short term, but it wasn’t sustainable for long term planning.

The events of yesterday’s rehearsal had shown her that. If they waited too long, the few open slots they had could be unavailable at the studio.

Maybe some kind of central calendar could work? Lisa used a calendar app on her phone to keep track of her own schedule, but perhaps one could be created that stored the availability of the whole band.

Ooh, now that was an idea. It might not fix the problem, but at least it would streamline it. Lisa clicked into her calendar to see if she could create something like that. Her head was down, so she didn’t notice someone approaching.

“Lisa-chii!” A familiar voice called from right next to her, far louder than necessary at that distance. “Long time no see!”

Lisa looked up, locking eyes with vibrant green ones. “Hey Hina,” she acknowledged the other student with a smile.

Hina was attending the same school as Lisa, in the same program. They didn’t have any classes together, since the program was quite large. As first year students though, they both took the same courses. They had already walked past each other once since the semester started, but hadn’t spent any time talking.

“Mind if I join you?” Hina asked, more politely than she usually would.

“Please do.” Lisa gestured towards the empty seats at her table.

Hina beamed as she claimed the chair across from Lisa, placing her cup and plate down on the table. “I’m starving!” She declared as she quickly started eating her food.

“A lot of classes this morning?” Lisa engaged her in conversation, rather than continue to dwell on her scheduling problems.

“Yup, and Pasupare practice.” Hina replied between bites. She carried the same frenetic energy she always did.

Her words surprised Lisa. “You practiced in the morning?”

“Ever since uni started.” Hina now twirled her utensil in her hand.

So Roselia wasn’t the only band having issues with schedules. “I see.” Lisa replied simply, wondering how morning practices would look if Roselia tried them. She immediately dismissed that idea; Ako needed her sleep for high school.

“Aya-chan’s so funny in the morning.” Hina grinned, like she was on the inside of a joke nobody else understood. “She’s so cute and sleepy.”

Lisa wondered how funny that could possibly be, but she wasn’t going to question it. “Roselia practiced yesterday, but it’s been hard finding time when everyone’s free.” She couldn’t help but grimace.

“Onee-chan told me about that.” Hina nodded firmly. “She seems hmm, not very boppin’ lately.” She lifted a finger to her cheek as she spoke, as if she was searching for the right words.

Sayo had seemed fine at rehearsal, happy even, though that made sense if the problem was rehearsals being cancelled. Lisa thought she should check in on her. “How has Pasupare been dealing with it?”  Like Roselia, most of Pasupare’s members had graduated. They must’ve had equivalent or greater scheduling issues.

Hina thought about it for a moment, taking another big bite of her food. “It’s always been like this.” She tilted her head. “Chisato-chan, Aya-chan, Eve-chan, and Maya-chan are always suuuuper busy. Now they’re just busier in the evening, so we mixed it around.” She swirled one finger in the air to represent the change.

That was kind of vague, but Lisa understood what she was saying. They were working around the new scheduling problems by practicing early in the morning.

“Chisato-chan couldn’t even practice today.” Hina took the last bite of her lunch. “The drama she’s recording had the same idea and snatched her away.”

That was interesting. “So, you practiced without her?” Roselia didn’t really do that, rehearse without one of their band members. Yukina preferred to cancel and reschedule practice, if she had enough notice.

Now Hina was guzzling down her drink. “Yup! That happens a lot.” She held the half full cup in her hand. “Our manager says it’s better to practice with four than not at all.”

That could be something Lisa could use. She remembered the day before, how a different member had issues with different time slots. If they’d been willing to rehearse with four instead of five, then they could’ve scheduled multiple rehearsals. As it was, the time slot needed was already full and they had nothing planned.

“That helps Hina, thanks.”

Hina finished her drink and practically slammed the cup down onto the table. “No problem!” Now that she was done eating, she leaned down to unzip her bag. “While I’m here, did you do the lab report yet for science?”

As Hina pulled out a binder full of paper, Lisa realized the true reason she’d wanted to eat with her. Even though they didn’t have any classes together, they were still taking the same courses. That meant very similar assignments.

Lisa humored her and looked at her lab, offering a couple tips and corrections. It was the least she could do, since Hina helped with her band problems.

Lisa needed to take those ideas, her own and the ones from Hina, and form them into some kind of a plan.

_________________________________________________________

This was the last question on the lab report. This familiar report was the one Lisa had helped Hina with during lunch. She had most of it finished already, but needed to add the final touches. It was due in a couple days, which meant it needed to be done soon.

When Lisa got home from campus, she sat down to finish it. This took a while, but by dinner time she was almost done.

After dinner, she finished the last question. Science in university was only a bit harder than science in high school had been, at least so far that was the case. Once the assignment was complete, she could move on to the task that had been haunting her all day.

Roselia’s practice schedule loomed over her.

Lisa started by picking a tool for creating a combined schedule. She decided to call it the master schedule, since it would hold everyone’s information.

That was something she needed for sure, to be able to see when everyone was busy. The calendar app she used on her phone would work, as long as she made a separate account to house the master schedule.

She started the new account by adding her own classes and work shifts to it.

Once Lisa had finished adding her schedule on the account, she copied the link to the schedule and texted it out in the Roselia group text.

“Hey everyone, please fill in your schedule at this link. Mark any time you can’t practice.”

Sayo responded quickly. “This is an excellent idea.” She added a thumbs up emoji after it.

“I’ll add to it now (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧” Rinko soon followed.

Next was Ako. “Can the background be made darker?” Lisa didn’t know how to do that, so she said no.

Yukina’s message came last. “Good work, Lisa.” The simple message brought a smile to Lisa’s face.

She clicked back to the calendar to see what had been added. Now, instead of just her own classes, it was full of classes, rehearsals, and study sessions from her bandmates.

As she expected, there was very little free time to spare. Almost any time that they used to rehearse was filled with a college course or rehearsal time. Evenings rarely had all members available. Friday night was free, but Lisa already knew that the studio was booked that night.

Saturday, which Lisa had hoped would be a good day, was littered with events.

There were plenty of slots where only one member was busy, which was always a different member. Sayo and Yukina had some late practices, Rinko had classes that ran later than the others, Ako was busy during the entire high school day, and Lisa couldn’t forget her very own work schedule and heavy load of coursework.

The next step could be to schedule them for four person rehearsals, just to keep the band practicing often. The longer Lisa pondered it, the surer she was that that was the best way forward. They needed to practice regularly, whether that be with four or five members.

She couldn’t make the decision alone though.

Lisa left the calendar app, going to dial a number instead. The number she dialed was one she knew by heart, one that held a strong grip on her.

The line rang a couple times, before being answered.

“Lisa?” Through the phone, Yukina’s voice sounded fuzzy.

“Hey Yukina.” Lisa wondered how her own voice sounded, as it bounced away to a radio tower and back to a spot less than fifty feet away. “Do you have a minute?”

“Yes, of course.” Yukina sounded tense.

“Everyone added their classes to the calendar.” Lisa started there, with what had been done. “And I’ve been looking at it.”

“I am too.” Yukina replied, with a slight shuffling sound on her end of the line. “Saturday doesn’t look like it’s going to work.” Disappointment was easy to hear in her tone.

“Right, about that…” Lisa wasn’t sure how to say this, wasn’t sure how Yukina was going to react. “I’ve been thinking, if there’s a week when we can’t get everyone together then, maybe we should schedule four person rehearsals.”

For a long, stifling, unbearable moment, there was silence from the other end of the line.

“Do you think that’s best for Roselia?” The words, which in the wrong tone could’ve been an accusation, were instead spoken softly. It felt like an honest question, like Yukina really wanted to know what she thought.

Lisa had already decided on her answer. “I do, yes.” She said the words firmly.

“Go ahead then, I trust your decision.” There was no pause before those words. Though fuzzy, Yukina spoke with certainty.

Lisa’s heart, which had been behaving normally today, reacted strongly to those words. “I’ll try to schedule the next one tonight.” She managed to respond in a normal fashion.

“Alright. Talk to you later.”

“Bye.”

Lisa hit the button to hang up the call, setting the phone on the table. She took a deep breath, playing Yukina’s words again in her mind.

Yukina trusted her to do this right, to do what was best for the band.

Lisa wasn’t going to let her down. She picked her phone back up, with a silent apology to Rinko, and dialed the number for Circle.

She hoped the Friday afternoon slot was still available.

_________________________________________________________

End Note: Had to whip out the old suffix chart for this. Here’s the link if you’re interested in seeing it: https://imgur.com/4ezEq7f

Next Chapter

[whatsseobb]

More Than Meets The Eye (Crystal x Gigi Fanfic) - Chapter 6

AO3 Link

[A/N: Updates are still slow but thank you really for waiting. While waiting you can also read some of my other fics. I hope you’ll like them too!

I hope you enjoy this fic and leave me your thoughts!!]

Synopsis:

Too bad that you couldn’t see See the girl Crystal could be There is more that meets the eye I see the soul that is inside~

Based from Avril Lavigne’s Sk8ter Boi but with different twists.

Chapter Six - Prettiest Blonde 

“Let’s do it again!” Widow’s firm voice echoed across the auditorium as the dance troupe froze on their spots, sighing before they walked back to their first blockings to start the dance routine.

There was only a month until their upcoming competition and the dance captain was getting extra worried for because of their unfinished routine. It was a Saturday and the dance troupe decided to schedule their morning for rehearsals. Lunch time was almost near and everyone was getting extremely tired but there was no backing up. They had to accomplish at least one of their agenda from today and Widow was getting stricter at the moment.

“Jan, show them how to do the step. Please, just please, watch Jan carefully and follow. Come on!”

Jan stood in the middle of the stage, in front of everyone else, as Widow played the music for their dance routine. The shorter blonde danced gracefully along the song, not missing a single beat. Her face was full of expression, perfectly matched with the emotions expressed by the song. Once the music was stopped, she immediately went back to where Heidi was, standing beside her as they all readied themselves for another round of dancing.

Widow was tapping her foot to the beat as she intensely scrutinized each and every one of the team, making sure everyone was on point and the whole team was dancing flawlessly. “Gigi, what are you doing?”

The door at the back of the auditorium suddenly opened as groups of friends flocked together inside, running to the front of the stage.

“We’re here, bitches” The voice of the pink-haired girl resonated across the almost-empty room as her friends followed her to the front, bags and bottles in hand. They settled on the front seats, waving at their friends.

The dance captain stopped the music booming, putting her phone down before looking at her team. “Okay, let’s have a short break. But after this, I want to see you all doing it perfectly. Jan, please help Gigi follow. She’s getting lost.” She clapped her hand to signal their rest, the dancers walking to different directions to get their water bottles and freshen up. Meanwhile, the taller blonde had her shoulders dropped down as she walked towards her friend, the latter patting her back gently to comfort her.

“I’ll teach you later, Geege. We’ll take a break first.”

The four girls headed to where their newly-arrived friends were, plunging on the empty seats as they all caught their breaths. Jan was wiping her face with her purple towel when she felt a cold object touching the back of her neck. She jumped slightly at the touch, before she looked at the direction where the coldness came from. She saw her Persian friend holding up a bottle of blue Gatorade towards her direction, a smile painted on her pretty face.

“You surprised me!” The shorter blonde hit her friend lightly with the towel, smiling as she kept on looking at the bottle then back to her friend’s face then to the bottle again. “What’s this for? Is this for me?”

“Actually, this is mine. I’m just making you crave and want Gatorade but I’ll never give this to you.” The brunette jokingly replied, hugging the icy bottle close to her. She watched the girl’s reaction in front of her turn into a frown, her shoulders slumping down as she turned away from Jackie. “Hey! I’m just kidding, Jan. This is for you.”

A light hint of pink rushed on Jan’s face as she looked at the bottle once again before turning to her friend. “Are you sure? I mean you didn’t have to. I can just go get myself some water from the water fountain outside. I brought a water tumbler with me anyway.” A foolish smile appeared on her face as she took the cold drink from her friend.

Jackie returned the smile, thinking about the moment she secretly bought the Gatorade bottle for Jan at the convenience store on their way to school when her friends invited her to watch the dance group’s rehearsals. It was just a spur of the moment, her seeing the bottle reminded her of her friend Jan and so she added water bottles for her friends, trying to be subtle but obviously giving an extra special drink for the shorter blonde. She looked around nervously, trying to see if anyone noticed her giving her a Gatorade instead of just the bottle of water.

“Thank you for this, Jackie.” The smile on their faces were not disappearing as Jan took a chug of her Gatorade. She closed the cap and put the bottle near her bag, turning to Jackie. “Why are you all here anyway? I didn’t know you all we-“

She was cut off by a loud chortle coming from the girl in front of her, her eyebrows wrinkling on her forehead as her lips turn into a pout. “What’s so funny? Hey, why are you laughing?”

The other tried to compose herself, obviously failing, as she tried to reply to Jan’s question. She pointed on her tongue, laughing louder as she watched the other girl’s face painted with confusion. “It’s hahaha… your tongue… blue.” She laughed in between her sentence, receiving another hit on the arm with the purple towel.

“I hate you.”

“Where did you get that Gatorade? I asked Crystal to buy me one but she said the store didn’t have any Gatorade in stock.” Heidi interrupted the two, her arms crossed in front of her chest as she eyed the bottle with the blue liquid beside Jan’s bag.

“I think that was the last bottle.” Jackie mentioned, her eyes darting at Heidi’s hand as she tried to snatch the bottle away. Jan was quick, holding it close to her.

“This is mine. You go buy yours later when you get home.” The Persian girl watched the blonde close to her getting protective of the drink she bought for her. She can’t help but smile again at the sight of Jan.

“You buy me one later when we get home.” Heidi said before she went back to where Widow was standing, offering her a water bottle that she got from Daegen’s bag.

Meanwhile, Gigi settled near where her bag was, getting her towel from the pocket and wiping her sweat. Crystal walked up to her and showed her a small smile as she put her bag beside hers.

“Wow, I can see that you’re all set for later, huh?” The ballerina eyed the packed bag that the blue-haired girl prepared with her.

“It’s safe to say that you’re not the only one excited for this project.”

“Hi, Gigi. Are you going somewhere later?” A taller, dark-haired girl followed Crystal to where she was standing with the taller blonde, putting an arm on top of the skater’s shoulder.

“Remember I told you Gee and I are partners for this Literature project? The one with Ms. Visage. We’ll start doing it later after their rehearsals.”

Daya let out a chuckle as she gave Gigi’s arm a light pat. “If I were you Gigi, I will keep an eye on the snacks. This one eats a lot. Sometimes, she can finish a whole bag in under ten minutes. I’m not even sure if she does the projects or just went there for the food.”

The small group shared laughter at the dark-haired girl’s comment, receiving a gentle hit on the stomach from Crystal. “Hey, that’s not true. I don’t eat that much.”

“Gigi, you can text me if she finishes all the snacks in your cupboard, okay?” The taller blonde giggled at what Daya told her, offering her a small smile as she quietly watched the two girls interact with each other. She saw taller girl pinch Crystal’s cheek, the other glaring at her jokingly.

“Daya, I’m sorry I can’t go to your practice today again.”

“No problem. I’m getting used to it anyway.” Daya showed a slight frown on her lips, Crystal laughing as she saw it, messing with her hair in front of her face. “I’m kidding. Come on.”

They all heard a few loud claps from the front of the stage near the speakers as the dance captain called their attention to resume the practice.

The rehearsals ensued, the bunch of girls watched their friends as they danced their hearts out and focused on their routine. They chatted amongst themselves, observing how graceful their friends were then after a while it turned to school stuff that they had to finish. They all busied themselves with talking while they wait for their friends to finish their dance practice. Among the five girls, Crystal was the only one not engaging in the conversation. She was silently sitting near the spot where hers and Gigi’s bags were, watching the ballerina as she strutted and twirled her way on the stage, doing her best to follow Jan’s advice from earlier. A honey-dipped smile was unwittingly painted on her face as her eyes were locked on the tall blonde’s figure. She was seeing the Gigi she was with back at the mall the other day, the confident and not-so-timid girl. She was fascinated at how standing on stage and just being there was enough for the ballerina’s stature to change, from her slumped shoulder and silent figure to this poised and flawless dancer.

Their eyes met a few times, Crystal feeling her heart beat on her throat every time Gigi caught her looking and watching. She scrambled inside her bag to get the borrowed book for their project and pretended to read a chapter of the story. However, she was still getting distracted by the vision in front of her.

 It was past noon when the dance rehearsals were finished, the group of girlfriends gathering near the stage as they cleaned up, preparing to leave the auditorium. Jackie lifted some of the bags they brought from earlier, showing it to her friends. “We actually bought lunch for you all. Shall we go to the cafeteria?”

“I know a place.” Widow said as she picked up her gym bag and led them out of the auditorium. She helped Jackie with one of the bags she was carrying. The friends followed Widow to where she was leading them, chattering as they talked about their dance rehearsals.

Crystal, on the other hand, deviated from the pack as she made her pace slower to catch up with the tall blonde, walking beside her as she hung her backpack on her shoulder. “You were amazing upstage earlier, Gee. How do you do that thing again?” The shorter girl tried to imitate the twirl Gigi was doing in their routine which made the blonde giggle.

“That wasn’t half bad. It goes like this.” The pair shared a laugh as Gigi demonstrated the twirl to Crystal, who in return tried to mimic her moves. “Hm, I’ll show you later. Remind me.”

“How many chapters have you read anyway? I was trying to catch up on reading earlier during your rehearsals but I was getting distracted.” The skater girl mentioned as she looked down on her feet, watching her steps as she shook her head at the thought of the dancer’s graceful moves from the practice earlier.

“Distracted from what?” From you. “Oh no. Was the music too loud? We usually have them like that since it’s as close to the volume during the main competition.”

A smile crept on her face as she heard the hint of concern from the taller girl. It was paired with a flush of light pink appearing on the sapphire-haired girl’s cheeks. Gigi’s soft voice and kindness reminded her of the first night they met. It was one of the few nights someone showed concern towards her and it made her feel warm. “No, it’s fine. I am a few chapters in already.”

After a few minutes of walking, they finally reached the school’s football field. It was empty, no athletes or band members in sight. They settled on the bleachers, putting their bags down on the seats as they made a small irregular circle, facing each other. “We usually go here to eat and take some fresh air. Especially during weekends like this when there’s only a few to no people around.”

“Lucky day for us, it’s all ours.” Daegen commented as she brought out the food containers that they purchased earlier for the group.

“Thank you for this free lunch!” Jan’s cheerful voice resonated around their small spot as she stuffed her mouth with the delicious food their friends brought for them.

“It was actually Jackie’s idea to buy you all food. We were just supposed to ask you to have lunch with us.” The shorter blonde’s eyes darted towards the Persian girl as she flashed her a big smile. Jackie felt her cheeks heating up, her lips returning the grin that was on Jan’s face.

“Don’t think it’s free though. You gotta treat us lunch another time.” Daya jokingly shared, making the whole group laugh with her. They all ate their lunch together, babbling and gossiping with the whole group.

 After their short gathering by the school’s field, the bunch of friends all went their separate ways as they go on with their day. Some headed home while others decided to visit the mall and look around. Gigi and Crystal went to the blonde’s place, as they have planned, so they could start with their literature project. They stayed inside Gigi’s room, the sapphire-haired girl looking around and exploring the bedroom the moment she first came in.

They took a few minutes of rest and just talking as they readied themselves for their project. Once they were all settled, Crystal took out the materials from her bag and Gigi showing her the notebook she wrote her plans with. The blonde explained her thoughts and ideas first, the other just looking and watching her as she spoke. She had finished the book already before it was even assigned to them but just watching the tall blonde talk and talk about it fascinated the skater girl. She observed the way her face lit up as she talked about the main character, her biting on the tip of her pen as she thought of more ideas to write down, the way she spoke greatly of her plans as if her words helped in making her thoughts come to life. She was mesmerized at how creative the other one was. Or so she thought that was the reason.

“Hey, are you listening, Ms. Crystal?” The skater girl was cut off of her thoughts as she felt the pen Gigi was holding just a few seconds ago land on her lap. She nodded, straightening her back to fix her posture.

“Yes yes, I am. But right now, I think it’s time for some break time.” Crystal buried her head on Gigi’s pillow as she tiredly lay down on her stomach on top of the bed, taking a sniff of the pillow the blonde use. She didn’t mean to take a whiff of the strawberry scent of her hair from the cushion. She immediately pulled it away as she became aware of what she was doing, looking at the taller blonde standing in front of her.

“Are you going to eat some more snacks? I really should text Daya and tell her you rummaged on our cupboard and consumed everything.” The ballerina teased the other girl, poking her waist as she placed herself beside her on top of the bed. The skater girl shot her a look, her lips pushed into a pout as she shook her head for the taller to not go with it. “Wait, where is my phone?”

“No!” Crystal whined, looking at the taller blonde beside her. She put an arm on top of her, acting as a shield to push her down in case she tried to stand up. “You know that’s not true. I only ate half the bag.”

“Mhm? I think my phone is just here somewhere. Is it on my pocket?” The other girl tried to stand up only to be pinned down by Crystal’s upper body as she laid down on her stomach. The two shared a laugh as they both fought with their strength, wiggling and shuffling on top of the bed.

Gigi froze under the sapphire-haired girl as she noticed her face a few inches closer to her own. The other girl quickly noticed it, pausing on her position as well. Silenced occupied the room as they both shared a few seconds looking into each other’s eyes. The skater girl was the one to pull away, sitting down hurriedly on the bed as she fixed her wrinkled shirt.  She cleared her throat as she tried to ignore the noise banging on her chest. “Wait, where were we again?”

“I- I think we’re almost done with the plan. We just need to finish the whole book and finalized the poster.” The blonde spoke, her voice shaking a bit as she stood up, clearing up her table to pack away the notebooks and the materials. “Is it really okay for you to leave your materials here for a while?”

Crystal stood up and helped the taller girl organize the materials she brought for that day. “Yeah. I might just use them for some other stuff I do at home so it’s better to keep it safe here. Don’t worry, I’ll take them back after we finish the project. Is it fine with you?”

“Sure! Store away.” Gigi opened her drawer and took out two gift wrappers. She showed it to the skater girl, the other furrowing her eyebrows. “Help me. Which one do you think would suit Jackie more?”

“Do you really have to match the gift wrappers?” She shrugged before choosing a simpler wrapper covered in glitters.

“Well, of course! So she’ll love the gift inside more. I can’t wait for the party. Anyway, who did you pick?” Gigi kept the other wrapper inside her drawer as she left the one Crystal chose on top of her table. She turned to the shorter girl as she anticipated her answer. The other just winked at her, shaking her head. “What? Come on, tell me. You know mine.”

“It’s because you accidentally blurted it out. Not my fault.” She shrugged as she turned to walk back to Gigi’s bed. She plopped down on the soft mattress, hugging a pillow as she looked at the taller girl.

“That’s unfair. Please tell me. Come on.” The skater girl shook her head, determined not to confess that she got her for Secret Santa. “Give me a clue then.”

“Fine.” Crystal tapped her chin as she stared at the other girl who was waiting for her reply. She thought hard of the ‘clue’ she was going to tell her without admitting that it was actually her. The shorter girl’s face brightened up as she thought of the perfect hint to give her. “She’s blonde.”

“Blonde?” Gigi walked towards her bed, sitting beside Crystal as she put a pillow on top of her lap, thinking hard. “We have three blondes in the group, right? Lux, Jan, and I are blondes. Gimme more clue.”

“She’s the prettiest blonde of the group.” She almost whispered the word ‘prettiest’ as she didn’t want the blonde in front of her to notice her pink face and the softness of her voice as she talked about her.

“Prettiest? It has got to be Lux. Oh my gosh!” The ballerina covered her mouth as she gasped, a realization hitting her. “You called her the prettiest… does it mean…” She trailed off, wiggling her eyebrows to the girl in front of her suggestively.

“What?”

“You have a crush on Lux!”

“What?!”

“You said she’s the prettiest among the group. The way you said it, it sounded like you adore her. Oh my gosh. Are we going to have another couple forming other than Jan and Jackie?” She clasped her hands under her chin as she smiled endearingly towards the blue-haired girl.

Crystal uttered her third consecutive “What?!”

“N-nothing. But back to you and Lux, since when? Does she know you have feelings for her?” She poked the other girl’s arm, signaling her to tell her more about her non-existent romantic feelings toward their blonde friend.

“I don’t have a crush on her. I didn’t even tell you if you’re correct or not, Gee. And I never will, until that person receives my gift for them. And what did you say about Jan and Jackie?”

Gigi squinted her eyes as she looked at Crystal, flinging her two fingers back and forth to the other girl and her own eyes, motioning a ‘my eyes are on you’ gesture. “I’m gonna be watching you when we have our lunches. I’ll know it before Christmas.”

The skater girl chuckled as she watch Gigi’s determination to identify who she picked for the exchange party. Her mind was running wildly while at the same time relieved. It was running with thoughts about how to not let Gigi notice that she was her Secret Santa, running wildly at the sight of the girl next to her, serious to know who Crystal picked. It was full of thoughts again as she remembered their little moment earlier. Simultaneously, it was calm. Somehow thankful because of the thought that Gigi didn’t even mentioned her own name, relieved that she had no idea that the skater girl in her room alone with her thought she was the prettiest among the bunch.

[papermoonloveslucy]

LOOK! TV: TURN ON OR TURN OFF?

September 7, 1971

The September 7, 1971 issue of LOOK Magazine (volume 35, number 18) dedicated their entire issue to the medium of television. Inside, there is a feature titled “Lucille Ball, the Star That Never Sets...” by Laura Bergquist on page 54. 

The photograph on the cover is slightly distorted to give it the look of an image through a TV screen.  The shot was taken by Douglas Bergquist in January 1971. 

The issue presents a variety of viewpoints about the state of television. Is it ‘tired’ or is there an infusion of new energy to take it into the new decade? John Kronenberger writes an article that asks if cable television is the future. Hindsight tells us that it was not only the future, but is now the past. 

“Lucille Ball, the Star That Never Sets...” by Laura Bergquist. 

Bergquist first interviewed Lucille Ball in 1956 for the Christmas issue of Look. 

The photograph is by Douglas Kirkland, a Canadian-born photographer, who not coincidentally, also took the photograph used on the cover. This shot was taken in the garden of Ball’s home in June 1971.  At age 24, Kirkland was hired as a staff photographer for Look magazine and became famous for his 1961 photos of Marilyn Monroe taken for Look's 25th anniversary issue. He later joined the staff of Life magazine.

Bergquist launches the article talking about her friend Sally, who is besot with watching Lucille Ball reruns, preferring Lucy over the news. Under the headline, she sums up the purpose of her interview: “Sorry, Sally. But Lucy is a serious, unfunny lady. So how come she’s a top clown of the fickle tube for twenty years, seen at home 11 times weekly and in 77 countries?”  

LUCILLE BALL: THE STAR THAT NEVER SETS...

(Lucille Ball’s quotes are in BOLD. Footnote numbers are in parentheses.)

My neighbor Sally, nine, turns out to be a real Lucy freak. Though she likes vintage-house-wife I Love Lucy best, she'll watch Lucille Ball 11 times a week, if permitted. That's how often Madame Comedy Champ of the Tube, come 20 years this October, can be caught on my local box. Ten reruns, plus the current Here's Lucy on Monday night, CBS prime time. Friends, that's 330 weekly minutes of Lucy, which should be rank overexposure. Did you know that even the U.S. man-on-the-moon walkers slipped in ratings, second time around?

Quel mystery. Variety last fall announced that old-fashioned sitcoms and broad slapstick comedy are passé, given today's hip audiences. With one big exception - Lucy. When the third Lucy format went on in '68, reincarnating Miss Ball as a widowed secretary (with her real-life son, Desi Jr., now 18, and Lucie Jr., 20), Women's Wear Daily said not only were the kids no talent, but the show was "treacle." "One giant marshmallow," quoth the Hollywood Reporter, "impeccably professional, violence-free, non-controversial . . . 100% escapism." 

Miss Ball: "Listen, that's a good review. I usually get OK personal notices, but the show gets knocked regular."

So why does Sally, like all the kids on my block, love slapstick, non-relevant Lucy? "Because she's always scheming and getting into trouble like I do, and then wriggling her way out of it." A 44-year-old Long Island housewife: "Of course I watch. I should watch the news?" When the British Royal Family finally unbent for a TV documentary, what was the tribe watching come box-time? Lucy, over protests from Prince Philip. (1)

"I've been a baby-sitter for three generations," says Miss Ball briskly. "Kids watch me during the day [she outpulls most kiddy shows]. Women and older men at night. Teen-agers, no. They look at Mod Squad. Intellectuals, they read books or listen to records.... You know I even get fan mail from China?" MAINLAND CHINA? "Hong Kong, isn't that China?" No. "Where is it anyway?"

The Statistics on the Lucy Industry are numbing. In recent years, she has run in 77 countries abroad, including the rich sheikhdom of Kuwait, and Japan, where, dubbed in Japanese yet, she's been a long-distance runner for 12 years. Where are all those funny people of yesteryear - Jackie Gleason, the Smothers Brothers, Sid Caesar, the Beverly Hillbillies - old reliables like Ed Sullivan, Red Skelton? Gone, all gone, form the live tube - except for reruns dumped by sponsors, out of fashion, murdered in the ratings.

Even this interview is a rerun. Fifteen years ago, I sat in Miss Ball's old-timey movie-star mansion in Beverly Hills, wondering how much longer, oh Lord, could Lucy last? She has a different husband, a genial stand-up comic of the fast-gag Milton Berle school, Bronx-born Gary Morton, 49. He replaced Desi Arnaz, her volatile Cuban spouse (and costar and partner) of 20 years, who lives quietly in Mexico's Baja California, alongside a pool shaped like a guitar, with a second redhead wife. "Ever been here before?" asks Gary, now her executive producer, who's brightened the house decor. "Used to be funeral-parlor gray, right?"

Otherwise, the lady, like her show, seems preserved in amber. Though newly 60, she could be Sally's great-grandmother. Of a Saturday, she's unwinding from a murderous four-day workweek. Her pink-orange-fireball hair is up in rollers. Her black-and-blue Rolls-Royce, inherited from her friend, the late Hedda Hopper, is parked in the driveway. But in attitude and opinion, she comes across Madame Middle America, despite the shrewd show-biz exterior. Good egg. Believer in hard work, discipline, Norman Vincent Peale. Deadeye Dickstraight, she talks astonishingly unfunny - about Vietnam, Women's Lib, about which she feels dimly, marriage to Latins, books she toted up to her new condominium hideaway in Snowmass, Colo. "Snow" is her new-old passion, a throwback to her small-town Eastern childhood. For the first time in family memory, this lifelong workhorse actually relaxed in that 9,700-foot altitude for four months this year, learning to ski, reading Pepys, Thoreau, Shirley MacLaine's autobiography, "37 goddamned scripts, and all those Irvings" (Stone, Wallace, etc.). She had scouted for a mountain retreat far away from any gambling. Why? Is she against gambling? "No, I'm a sucker. I can't stay away from the tables."

From yellowing notes, I reel off an analysis by an early scriptwriter. Perhaps she comes by her comic genius because of some "early maladjustment in life, so you see commonplace things as unusual? To get even, to cover the hurt, you play back the unhappy as funny?"

Forget any deep-dish theorizing. "Listen, honey," says Miss B, drilling me with those big blue peepers, "you've been talking to me for four, five hours. Have you heard me say anything funny? I tell you I don't think funny. That's the difference between a wit and a comedian. My daughter Lucie thinks funny. So does Steve Allen, Buddy Hackett, Betty Grable."

BETTY GRABLE THINKS FUNNY? "Yeah. Dean Martin has a curly mind. oh, I can tell a funny story about something that happened to me. But I'm more of a hardworking hack with an instinct for timing, who knows the mechanics of comedy. I picked it up by osmosis, on radio and movie lots [she made 75 flicks] working with Bob Hope, Bert Lahr, the Marx Brothers, the Three Stooges - didn't learn a thing from them except when to duck. Buster Keaton taught me about props. OK, I'm waiting."

Well, I hedge, I caught Miss Ball in a few funny capers on the Universal lot this week. Like one day, in her star bungalow, she throws a quick-energy lunch in the blender - four almonds, wild honey, water, six-year-old Korean ginseng roots, plus her own medicine, liver extract. "AAAGH," she gags, then peers in the mirror at her hair, which is a normal working fright wig, "Gawd," she moans, "it looks as if I'd poked my finger into an electric-light socket!" No boffo line, but her pantomimed horror makes me laugh out loud. Working, she is fearless - dangling from high wires, coping with wild beasts. She talks of animals she's worked with, chimps, bears, lions, tigers. "I love 'em all, especially the chimps, but you can't trust their fright or panic. Like that baby elephant who gave a press job to a guest actress." (2) What's a press job? "Honey, once an elephant puts his head down, he keeps marching, right through walls." Miss Ball puts her own head down, crooks an arm for a trunk, and voila, is an elephant. Funny as hell. So off-camera she's no great wit, but then is Chaplin?

Four days a week, through the Thursday night filming before a live audience, she labors like some hungry Depression starlet. Monday a.m., she sits at the head of a conference table, lined by 12 staffers, editing the script. Madame Executive Tycoon in charge of everything, overseeing things Desi used to do. Also the haus-frau, constantly opening windows for fresh air and emptying ashtrays. She wears black horn-rims, three packs of ciggies are at the ready. "Do I have to ask for a raise again?" she impatiently drills the writers, "I've done that 400 times." "QUIET!" she yells during rehearsal, perching in a high director's chair, a la Cecil B. DeMille. "Isn't somebody around here supposed to yell quiet?" She frets about the new set. "Those aisles - they're a mile and a half wide. What for?" The audience is too far away, she won't get the feedback from their laughs are her life's blood. (Once I hear Gary Morton on the phone, in his British-antiqued executive office, saying: "We need your laugh, honey. Go down to the set and laugh; that's an order.")

That physical quality about her comedy, a la the old silent movies or vaudeville - which were the big amusements of her youth - seems to transcend any language. (A Moscow acting school, I was told, shows old Lucy clips as lessons in comic timing.) So what did she learn from that great Buster Keaton?

"At Metro, I kept being held back by show-girl-glamour typing. I always wanted to do comedy. Buster Keaton, a friend of director Eddy Sedgwick, spotted something in me when I was doing a movie called DuBarry - what the hell was the name? - and kept nagging the moguls about what I could do. Now a great forte of mine is props. He taught me all about 'em. Attention to detail, that's all it is. He was around when I went out on a vaudeville tour with Desi with a loaded prop." What's that? "Real Rube Goldberg stuff. A cello loaded with the whole act - a seat to perch on, a violin bow, a plunger, a whistle, a horn. Honey, if you noodge it, you've lost the act. Keaton taught me your prop is your jewel case. Never entrust it to a stagehand. Never let it out of your sight when you travel, rehearse with it all week." Ever noodge it? "Gawd, yes. Happened at the old Roxy in New York. I was supposed to run down that seven-mile aisle when some maniac sprang my prop by leaping out and yelling 'I'm that woman's mother! She's letting me starve.'" What did you do? "Ad-libbed it, and I am one lousy ad-libber."

After 20 years, isn't she weary of playing the Lucy character? "No, I'm a rooter, I look for ruts. My cousin Cleo [now producer of Here's Lucy] is always prodding me to move. She once said Lucy was my security blanket. Maybe. I'm not erudite in any way, like Cleo. But why should I change? Last year was big TV relevant year, and I made sure my show wasn't relevant. Lucy deals in fundamental, everyday things exaggerated, with a happy ending. She has a basic childishness that hopefully most of us never lose. That's why she cries a lot like a kid - the WAAH act - instead of getting drunk."

Aha! Is Lucy the guileful child-woman, conniving forever against male authority - whether husband or nagging boss - particularly FEMALE? ("None of us watch the show," sniffed a Women's Libber I know, "but she must be an Aunt Tom." Still, I ponder, hasn't that always been the essence of comedy, the little poor-soul man - or woman - up against the biggies?)

"I certainly hope so. You trying to con me into talking about Women's Lib? I don't know the meaning of it. I never had anything to squawk about. I don't know what they're asking for that I don't have already. Equal pay for equal work, that's OK. The suffragettes rightly pressed a hard case - and when roles like Carry Nation come along, they ask me to play them, perhaps because I have the physical vitality. But they're kind of a laughingstock, aren't they? Like that girl who gave her parents 40 whacks with an ax? Didn't Carry Nation ax things, was she a Prohibitionist or what?" (3)

She'd just said nix to playing Sabina, in the movie of Thornton Wilder's The Skin of Our Teeth. Why? "I didn't understand it." She turned down The Manchurian Candidate for the same reason. "Got that Oh Dad, Poor Dad script the same week and thought I'd gone loony." If she makes another movie, she'll play Lillian Russell in Diamond Jim with Jackie Gleason, "a nice, nostalgic courtship story that won't tax anyone's nerves." (4) 

Is Miss Ball warmed by the comeback of old stars in non-taxing Broadway nostalgia shows like No, No, Nanette? (5)

"Listen, I studied that audience. I saw people in their 60's and 70's enjoying themselves. That had to be nostalgia. The 30's and 40's smiled indulgently, that Ruby Keeler is up there on the stage alive, not dead. For the below 30's, it's pure camp. I don't put it down, but it’s not warm, working nostalgia, but the feeling 'Ye gods, anything but today'

"Maybe I'm more concerned about things that I realize. I told you politics is definitely not on my agenda - I got burned bad, back in the '40's signing a damned petition as a favor. (6) Just say the word 'politician,' and I think of chicanery. Too many subversive angles today. But I must be one of millions who are so fed up, depressed, sobbing inside, about the news...the atrocities, the dead, the running down of America. You can't obliterate the news, but the baddest dream is that you feels so helpless.

"I was sitting in this very chair one night, flipping the dial, and came to Combat! There were soldiers crouching in bushes, a helicopter hovering overhead. Nothing happening, so I make like a director, yelling, 'Move it! This take is too LONG!' It turned out to be a news show from Vietnam. That shook me. There I was criticizing the director, and real blood was dripping off my screen... That drug scene bugs me. It's ridiculous, self-indulgent. We're supposed to be grateful if the kids aren't on drugs. They're destroying us from within, getting at our youth in the colleges. OK, kids have to protest, but how can they accomplish anything if they're physically shot?

"One of the reasons I'm still working is that people seem grateful that Lucy is there, the same character and unchanging view. There's so much chaos in this world, that's important. Many people, not only shut-ins, depend on the tube, too much so - they look for favorites they can count on. Older people loved Lawrence Welk. They associated his music with their youth. Now he's gone. It's not fair. (7) They shouldn't have taken off those bucolic comedies; that left a big dent in some folks' lives. Maybe we're not getting messages anymore from the clergy, the politicians, so TV does the preaching. But as an entertainer, I don't believe in messages.

"Some Mr. Jones is always asking why am I still working - as if it were some crime or neurotic. OK, I'll say it's for my kids. But I like a routine life, I like to work. I come from an old New England family in which everyone worked. My grandparents were homesteaders in New York and Ohio. My mother worked all her life - during the Depression in a factory."

What does she think of the new "relevant" comedy like All in the Family? "I don't know... It's good to bring prejudice out in the open. People do think that way, but why glorify it? Those not necessarily young may not catch the moral. That show doesn't go full circle for me."

Full circle?

"You have to suffer a little when you do wrong. That prejudiced character doesn't pay a penance. Does he ever reverse a feeling? I'm for believability, but I'm tired of hearing 'pig,' 'wop,' 'Polack' said unkindly. Me, I have to have an on-the-nose moral. Years ago, the Romans let humans be eaten by lions, while they laughed and drank - that was entertainment. But I’m tired of the ugly. Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers dancing, that's my idea of entertainment. Anything Richard Burton does is heaven. Easy Rider scared me at first because I knew how it could influence kids. But at least that movie came full circle. They led a life of nothing and they got nothing. Doris Day, I believe in her. Elaine May? A kook, but a great talent. Barbra Streisand? A brilliant technician."

On her old ten-minute daily interview radio show, (8) she once asked Barbra, like any star-struck civilian: How does it feel to be only 21, a big recording artist and star of the Broadway hit Funny Girl? "Not much," said Barbra. "That cool really flustered Lucille. It violated everything she believes in," says cousin Cleo Smith, who grew up with Miss B in small-town Celoron, N.Y. "For her, nothing ever came easy. She didn't marry until she was 30, or become a really big star until she was 40. She's still so hard on herself, sets such rigorous standards for herself as an actress and parent. She honestly believes in all the old maxims, that a stitch in time saves nine, etc. She's literal-minded, a bit like Scarlett O'Hara. Does what needs doing today, and to hell with tomorrow."

Her self-made wealth a few years ago was reckoned at $50 to $100 million. After her divorce, she reluctantly took over the presidency of the Desilu studio and sold it six years later to the conglomerate Gulf & Western for nearly $18 million. Does that make her the biggest lady tycoon in Hollywood? (The 179 original I Love Lucy reruns now belong, incidentally, to a CBS syndicate; her second Lucy Show, to Paramount. She owns only the current Here's Lucy - OK, go that straight?)

"Hah! Like Sinatra, I owe about three and a half million bucks all the time. That figure is ridiculous. All my money is working. I lost a helluva lot in the stock market last year and haven't recouped it. It's an illusion that people in show biz are really rich. The really filthy rich are the little old ladies in Boston, the old folks in Pasadena, who've had dough for years and haven't been seen since."

The divorce from Desi Arnaz can still set her brooding. "It was the worst period of my life. I really hit the bottom of despair - anything form there on had to be up. Neither Desi nor I has been the same since, physically or mentally, though we're very friendly, ridiculously so. Nobody knows how hard I tried to make that marriage work, thinking all the trouble must be my fault. I did everything I could to right that ship, trotting to psychiatrists. I hate failure, and that divorce was a Number One failure in my eyes... Anything in excess drives me crazy. He'd build a home anyplace he was, and then never be around to enjoy it. I was so idealistic, I thought that with two beautiful babies, and a beautiful business, what more could any man want? Freedom, he said, but he had that. People don't know what a job he did building that Desilu empire, what a great director and brilliant executive he was yet he let it all go....Maybe Latins have an instinct for self-destruction..."

Was that the conflict, a Latin temperament married to an old-fashioned American female? "It has a helluva lot to do with getting into it and getting out. The charm. But they keep up a big facade and don't follow through. No, the machismo didn't bother me, I like to play games too.

"Desi and I had made an agreement that if either of us wanted to pull out of Desilu, the other could buy. I wanted to go to Switzerland with the kids, anywhere to run away, but he wanted out. The I found out that for five years, our empire had taken a nose dive, and if I wanted to get my money back, I had to rebuild it first. For the first time in my life, I was absolutely terrified - I'd never run any show or a big studio. When I came back from doing the musical Wildcat on Broadway, I was so sick, so beat, I just sat in that backyard, numb, for a year. I'd had pneumonia, mononucleosis, staph, osteomyletis. Lost 22 pounds. Friends told me the best thing I could do physically, psychologically, was go back to work, but could I revive Lucy without Desi, my old writers, the old crew?"

You didn't like being a woman executive? "I hated it. I used to cry so much - and I'm not a crier - because I had to let someone go or make decisions I didn't understand. There were always two sides to every question, and trouble was I could see both sides. No one realizes how run-down Desilu was. The finks and sycophants making $70,000 a year, they were easy to clean out. Then during the CBS Jim Aubrey regime, I couldn't sell the new pilots we made - Dan Dailey, Donald O'Connor, Ethel Merman. I couldn't sell anything but me." (9)

Was it tough to be a woman bossing men? "Yeah. It puts men in a bad spot. I could read their minds, unfortunately, wondering who is this female making this decision, not realizing that maybe I'd consulted six experts first. I'm all wrong as an executive, I feel out of place. I have too many antennae out, I'm too easily hurt and intimidated. But I can make quick surgical incisions. I've learned that much about authority - give people enough rope to hand themselves, stand back, let them work, but warm them first. Creative people you have to give special leeway to, and often it doesn't pay off. Me, I'm workative, not creative. I can fix - what I call 'naturalize.' I'm a good editor, I can naturalize dialogue, find an easier way to do a show mechanically.

But I didn't make the same marriage mistake twice. Gary digs what my life is, why I have to work. We have tranquility. We want the same things, take care of what we have."

She shows me Gary's dressing room, closets hung with shirts and jackets - by the dozen. "My husband is a clothes and car nut, but it's a harmless vice. Better than booze or chasing women, right?" (His cars include a 1927 Model T Ford, a Mercedes-Benz 300 SL, an Astin Martin, a Rolls-Royce convertible.)

"Anyone married to me has an uphill climb. Gary and I coped by anticipating. We knew we should be separated eight, nine months a year, so he tapered off his act, found other thing to do - making investments, building things. He plays the golf circuit, Palm Springs, Pebble Beach, and tolerantly lets me stay at Snowmass for weeks. Sun just doesn't agree with me. He didn't come into the business for five years. I didn't want to put him in a position in which he would be ridiculed. I could tell that he was grasping things - casting, story line. I said, 'You've been a big help to me. You should be paid for it.' "

On a Friday night, I dine with the Mortons. Dinner is served around 6:30, just like in my Midwest hometown. Lucille is still fretting about this week's show - "over-rehearsed; because there were so many props, the fun had gone out of it." Gary, just home from unwinding his own way - golfing with Milton Berle, Joey Bishop - asks if I'd like something to drink with dinner? Coke or ginger ale? "No? I think we have wine." No high living in this house, but the spareribs are superb. "Laura asked me an interesting question," he tells his wife. "Like isn't there a conflict when a husband in the same business - comedy - marries a superstar? I told her I'd never thought of it before."

They met the summer when Lucille was rehearsing Wildcat, and he was a stand-up comic at Radio City Music Hall, seven days a week. "We both came up the hard way," he says. "I got started in World War II, clowning for USO shows. I've been in show biz for 30 years and can appreciate what she goes through. Lucy can't run company by herself. Maybe with me around, when she walks on the set, her mind is at peace. I pop in from time to time, on conferences, rehearsals. I can tell from her if things are going well, if the laughter is there. She's a thoroughbred, very honest with me, a friend to whom I can talk about anything. She never leaves me out of her life; that's important for a man. Do you know how many bets were lost about our marriage lasting? It's been nearly ten years now, and I've slept on the couch only once."

Past dinner, we adjourn promptly to the living room, and a private showing of Little Murders. It's not a pretty movie of urban American life, and Lucy talks back indignantly to the screen. (10) The flick she rally like was George Plimpton's Paper Lion, with the Detroit Lions, which she booked under the illusion it was an animal picture. "At the end, 12 of us here stood up and cheered, and I wrote every last Lion a fan note. You know that picture hardly made a dime?"

On a house tout, I'd noted the Norman Rockwell and Andrew Wyeth albums in the living room, and a memo scotch-taped to her bathroom wall: "Get Smart with N.V.P."

N.V.P. Is that Norman Vincent Peale, her old friend and spiritual mentor? "Yes. He marred me and Gary. I still adhere to his way of thinking because he preaches a day-to-day religion that I can understand. Something workable, not allegory. Like how do you get up in the morning and just get through the day?

"Dr. Peale taught me the art of selfishness. All it means is doing what's right for you, not being a burden to others. When I was in Wildcat, he dropped around one night saying, 'I hear you're very ill, and working too hard.' 'Work never hurt anybody,' I protested. But he reminded me I had two beautiful children to bring up, and if I was in bad shape, how could I do it? I've learned you don't rake more leaves than you can get into the wheelbarrow. I've always been moderate, but I was too spread around, trying to please too many people. You don't become callous, but you conserve your energies."

What about her kids? Passing a newsstand, I'd noted a rash of fan mags blazoned with headlines about Desi Jr., something of a teen-age idol, and at 18 a spitting image of old pop. (A rock star at 12, he'd recently garnered very good notices indeed for a movie role in Red Sky at Morning.) "Why Lucille Ball's Son Is So Bitter About His Own Mother," read the El Trasho covers. "Patty Duke Begs Desi Jr. To Believe Her: 'You Made Me Pregnant.' " Does the imbroglio bother this on-the-nose moralist?

"I worked for years for a quiet personal life and to have to personally impinged on, with no recourse, is hard. I brought Patty to the house, feeling very maternal about her, saying look at this clever girl, what a big talent she is. Now, I can thank her for useless notoriety. She's living in some fantastic dreamworld, and we're the victims of it. Desi being the tender age of 17 when they met, she used him. She hasn't proved or asked for anything. I asked Desi if he wanted to marry her and he said no. My daughter helped outfit the baby, which Patty brought to the house, but did she ever say thank you?

"Desi's going to CIA this fall." Not the CIA? No, the new California Institute of the Arts, where he'll study music. "Yes, he's very much like his father, too much sometimes - I just hope he has Desi's business acumen. I'm glad he didn't choose UCLA or Berkeley or a school full of nonconformists. Lucie just now wants marriage and babies - maybe she'll go on to college later.

"I took the kids out of school deliberately. Desi was at Beverly Hills High, Lucie at Immaculate Heart."

Why? "I didn't like the scene - it was the usual - pregnant girls, drugs." That goes on at Immaculate Heart? Sure. "A lot of girls who boarded there were unhappy misfits, and Lucie was already working in the nunnery. All the friends she brought home were the rejected. I'm that way myself."

Did they mind, well, your stage-managing their lives? "No, they were as sick of that weird high school scene as I was. I made them a proposition - told them to think it over for a month, while I was in Monaco. Do you want to be on the show? I told them the salary would be scale, that most would be put in trust. They'd be tutored and not able to graduate with their classes. They both thought they were going to the coast, but working with a tutor, they really got turned on by books for the first time. They wanted to be in show business, and I wanted to keep an eye on them."

Of course her show is nepotism, she grants. "Cleo thought a long time before becoming the producer, wondering if it wasn’t overdoing family. Nobody seems to be suffering from it, I told her." Thursday night show time is like a tense Broadway opening night. Gary Morton, in stylish crested blazer, warms up the audience, heavy with out-of-town tourists. "Lucy started out with another fellow, can't remember his name.... What is home without a mother? A place to bring girls." Lucille bursts out onstage, exuding the old MGM glamour, fireball hair ablaze, eyelashes inches long, in aquamarine-cum-rhinestone kaftan. "For God's sake," she implores, "laugh it up! We want to hear from you... Gary, have you introduced my mom?" Indeed he has. Loyal, durable, 79-year-old Desiree "DeDe" Ball, her hair pink as Lucille's, has missed few of the 409 Lucy shows filmed to date, and is on hand as usual with 19 personal guests. Gary also asks for big hands for Cleo, and her husband Cecil Smith, TV critic for the LA Times, who has also appeared on the show. (11) 

One day Desi Jr. wanders on the set, just back from visiting his father in Mexico. He'd gone with Patty Duke and the baby. The young man does have Latin charm, and apparently talent. I ask him a fan-mag query: Is it rough to be the spin-off of such famous show-biz parents?

"Well, I grew up with kids like Dean Martin, Jr., and Tony Martin, Jr., and we had a lot in common." What? "We all had houses in Palm Springs." Any generational problem with Mom? "She's found the thing she's best at, and sticks to it. As long as she has Snowmass, she has an escape, some reality. I realize she lives half in a man's world, and that must be tough on a woman. My father - he worked hard for years, and then he'd had it. This is silly, weird, he felt. He aged more in ten years than he had in 40. I'm like him. I feel life is very short. He's had major operations recently, and he's changed a lot."

Patty Duke is six years older than Desi Jr., paralleling the six-year age gap that separated parents Lucy and Desi. "Patty is a lot like my mother, the same drive, and strong will, a perfectionist...But I'm never going to get married. Marriage is unrealistic, expecting you to devote a whole life unselfishly to just one person. Do you know people age unbelievably when they marry? From what I've seen, 85 percent of married couples are miserable; 14 percent, just average; one percent, happy." (12) 

His mother's own childhood, in little Celoron, an outspring of Jamestown, N.Y., was oh-so-different from her kids'. "She was always a wild, tempestuous, exciting child," say Cleo, "doing things that worried people, plotting and scheming, though she knew she'd get in trouble." Interesting, because that's one basic of the Lucy format, Miss B forever finagling second bananas like Vivian Vance into co-trouble. "One summer, she conned me into running away. It was only to nearby Fredonia, but in her sneaky way she really wanted to catch up to a groovy high school principal who was teaching there. He played it very cool, calling Mom and telling her we were staying overnight in a boarding house. On his advice, when we got home, DeDe acted as if we hadn't been away. That devastated Lucille, no reaction, nothing."

The classic Lucy story line also has her conniving against male authority, whether husband or boss, now played by Gale Gordon. "I need a strong father or husband figure as catalyst. I have to be an inadequate somebody, because I don't want the authority for Lucy. Every damned movie script sent me seems to cast me as a lady with authority, like Eve Arden or Roz Russell, but that's not me.

"No, I don't remember my own father," says Miss Ball. "He was a telephone lineman who died of typhoid at 25, when I was about three. I do remember everything that day, though. Hanging out the window, begging to play with the kids next door who had measles... The doctor coming, my mother weeping. I remember a bird that flew in the window, a picture that fell off the wall.

"My brother Fred [who was born after her father's death] was always very, very good. He never did anything wrong - he was too much to bear. I was always in trouble, a real pain in the ass. I suppose I wasn't much fun to be around." To this day, says Cleo, Lucille suspects Fred is her mother's favorite, even though DeDe has devoted her whole life to this daughter.

Family ties were always fierce-strong. After her father's death, "We lived with my mother's parents, for a while. Grandpa Hunt was a marvelous jack-of-all-trades, a woodturner, eye doctor, mailman, bon vivant, hotel owner. [And also an old-fashioned Populist-Socialist.] He met my grandmother, Flora Belle, a real pioneer woman and pillar of the family, when she was a maid in his hotel. She was a nurse and midwife, an orphan who brought up four pairs of twin sisters and brothers all by herself. He took us to vaudeville every Saturday and to the local amusement park. When Grandma died at 51, all us kids had to pitch in, making beds, cooking.

"Yeah, I guess I am real mid-America, growing up as a mix of French-Scotch-Irish-English, living on credit like everyone else, paying $1.25 a week to the insurance man, buying furniture on time. But it was a good, full life. Grandpa took us camping, fishing, picking mushrooms, made us bobsleds. We always had goodies. I had the first boyish bob in town and the first open galoshes.

"My mother then married Ed Peterson, a handsome-ugly man, very well-read. He was good to me and Freddy but he drank too much. He was the first to point out the magic of the stage. A monologist came to town on the Chautauqua circuit. He just sat onstage with a pitcher of water and light bulb and made us laugh and cry for two hours. For me, this was pure magic. When I was about seven, Ed and mother moved to Detroit, leaving me with his old-fashioned Swedish parents, who were very strict. I had to be in bed at 6:30, hearing all the other kids playing outside in the summer daylight. Maybe it wasn't that traumatic, but I realize now it was a bad time for me. I felt as if I'd been deserted. I got my imagination to working, and read trillions of books."

The adult Lucille, talking to interviewers, used to go on and on about her "unhappy" childhood, little realizing that she was reflecting on her mother, to whom she is passionately devoted. "Just how long do you think you lived with the Petersons?" asked DeDe one day in a confrontation. "Three YEARS? Well I tell you it was more like three weeks."

"I left home at 15, much too early, desperate to break into the big wide world. Looking for work in New York show biz was ugly, without any leads or friends or training other than high school operettas and plays and Sunday school pageants. I was very shy and reticent, believe it or not, and I kept running home every five minutes. I got thrown in with older Shubert and Ziegfeld dollies and, believe me, they were a mean, closed corporation. I don't understand kids today who get easily discouraged and yap about doing their own thing. Don't they know what hard work is? Where are their morals? I always knew when I did wrong, and paid penance."

Yet she was venturesome enough to sit in on some recent Synanon group-therapy sessions for drug addicts. "They wanted me to raise some money, and I wanted to find out what it was about. The games were fascinating, wonderful, until I couldn't take it any more. The other participants kept bugging me: What are you here for? Are your children drug addicts? I had to start making up problems."

For two decades, she's been risking her neck in those murderous ratings, outlasting long-ago competitors like Fulton Sheen, and now up against such pleasers as pro football and Rowan and Martin. (13) 

Suppose the ratings drop, what would she do?

No idea. "Might take a trip on the Inland Waterway form Boston to Florida. In my deal with Universal, I can make specials, other movies, TV pilots. I wouldn't have to ski 'spooked' at Snowmass." What's that? "Honey, I have to be careful. If I break a leg 500 people are out of work. (14) I'd be happy in some branch of acting with some modicum of appreciation. Listen, it never occurred to me, in life that I'd fail ever, because I always appreciated small successes. I never had a big fixed goal. When I was running Desilu, it drove me wild when people asked, 'Aren't you proud to own the old RKO studio where you once worked as a starlet?' What $50-a-week starlet ever walked around a lot saying, 'I want to own this studio'?

"I don't know what you've been driving at, what's your story line? But it's been interesting, talking."

FOOTNOTES: HINDSIGHT IS 20/20

(1) This refers to a rare 1969 BBC documentary about Britain’s royal family that gave the public an inside look at the life of the Windsors. In one scene, the family was watching television, and on the screen was “I Love Lucy”, much to the chagrin of Prince Philip. Queen Elizabeth and Prince Philip were mentioned on the series, especially in the episode “Lucy Meets the Queen” (ILL S5;E15).  

(2) Lucy is referring to a 1967 episode of “The Lucy Show” titled “Lucy The Babysitter” (TLS S5;E16) in which Lucy Carmichael babysits three rambunctious chimps for their parents, played by Jonathan Hole and Mary Wickes. In the final moments of the show, Wickes reveals a fourth sibling - a baby elephant!  The animal went wild and pushed Wickes (what Ball described as a “press job”) into one of the prop trees. The trainer had to physically subdue the elephant to get it away from Wickes, who injured her arm. The final cut ends with the entrance of the baby elephant.

(3) Lucy is conflating (probably intentionally) the stories of real-life prohibitionist Carrie Nation (1846-1911), who famously hacked up bars and whisky barrels with an axe, and Lizzie Bordon (1860-1927), who famously hacked up her parents with an axe. (Photo from the 1962 TV special “The Good Years” starring Lucille Ball and Henry Fonda.) 

(4) There was never a film version of Thornton Wilder’s play Skin Of Our Teeth which was on Broadway in 1942 starring Tallulah Bankhead as Sabina, the role offered to Ball.  There were several television adaptations; one in Australia in 1959; one in England the same year starring Vivian Leigh as Sabina;  one in the USA in 1955 starring Mary Martin (above) as Sabina; and a filmed version of a stage production starring Blair Brown as Sabina in 1983. Although it is possible that Lucille Ball might have been considered for the role of the sexy housemaid Sabina in 1955, the article says that the role was “just” offered to her, so it probably refers to a 1971 project that never materialized. Wilder’s story tracks a typical American family from New Jersey from the ice age through the apocalypse. 

(5) In 1971, there was a popular revival of the 1925 musical comedy No, No, Nanette on Broadway. The cast featured veteran screen star Ruby Keeler and included Helen Gallagher (playing a character named Lucille, coincidentally), Bobby Van, Jack Gilford, Patsy Kelly and Susan Watson. Busby Berkeley, nearing the end of his career, was credited as supervising the production, although his name was his primary contribution to the show. The 1971 production was well-reviewed and ran for 861 performances. It sparked interest in the revival of similar musicals from the 1920s and 1930s. The original 1925 cast featured Charles Winninger, who played Barney Kurtz, Fred’s old vaudeville partner on “I Love Lucy.” In that same episode (above), they sing a song from the musical, "Peach on the Beach” by Vincent Youmans and Otto Harbach. Like the revue in the episode, the musical is set in Atlantic City, New Jersey.  

(6) Lucy is referring to her 1936 affidavit of registration to join the Communist Party.  Lucille said she signed it to appease her elderly grandfather. The cavalier act caught up with Ball in 1953, when zealous red-hunting Senator Joe McCarthy tried to purge America of suspected Communists. Although many careers were ruined, Ball escaped virtually unscathed.  

(7) The popular big band music series “The Lawrence Welk Show” (1955) was unceremoniously canceled in 1971 by ABC, in an attempt to attract younger audiences. What Lucy doesn’t mention is that four days after this magazine was published, the show began running brand new shows in syndication, which continued until 1982. Welk, despite not being much of an actor, played himself on “Here’s Lucy” (above) in January 1970. 

(8) “Let’s Talk To Lucy” was a short daily radio program aired on CBS Radio from September 1964 to June 1964. Most interviews (including Streisand’s) were spread over multiple installments.  

(9)  To showcase possible new series (pilots) Desilu and CBS aired “Vacation Playhouse” (1963-67) during the summer when “The Lucy Show” was on hiatus.  This would often be the only airing of Lucy’s passion projects. “Papa GI” with Dan Dailey as an army sergeant in Korea who has his hands full with two orphans who want him to adopt them. The pilot was aired in June 1964 but it was not picked up for production. “Maggie Brown” had Ethel Merman playing a widow trying to raise a daughter and run a nightclub which is next to a Marine Corps base. The pilot aired in September 1963, but went unsold. “The Hoofer” starring Donald O’Connor and Soupy Sales as former vaudevillians aired its pilot in August 1966. No sale! 

(10) Little Murders (1971) was a black comedy based on the play of the same name by Jules Feiffer. The film is about a young nihilistic New Yorker (Elliott Gould) coping with pervasive urban violence, obscene phone calls, rusty water pipes, electrical blackouts, paranoia and ethnic-racial conflict during a typical summer of the 1970s. Definitely not Lucille Ball’s style of comedy!  Paper Lion (1968) was a sports comedy about George Plimpton (Alan Alda) pretending to be a member of the Detroit Lions football team for a Sports Illustrated article. 

(11) Cecil Smith appeared in “Lucy Meets the Burtons” (HL S3;E1) in 1970 playing himself, a member of the Hollywood Press with a dozen other real-life writers. The casting was a way to get better coverage of the episode (featuring power couple Dick Burton, Liz Taylor, and her remarkable diamond ring). The gambit worked and the episode was the most viewed of the entire series. 

(12) Desi Jr.’s 1971 views on marriage did not last. He married actress Linda Purl in 1980, but they divorced in 1981. In October 1987, Arnaz married dancer Amy Laura Bargiel. Ten years later they purchased the Boulder Theatre in Boulder City, Nevada and restored it. They lived in Boulder with their daughter, Haley. Amy died of cancer in 2015, at the age of 63.   

(13) From 1952 to 1957, Catholic Bishop Fulton J. Sheen hosted the inspirational program “Life Is Worth Living”, winning an Emmy Award in 1953, alongside winners Lucille Ball and “I Love Lucy.”  “Here’s Lucy” was programmed up against “Monday Night Football” on ABC and “Rowan and Martin’s Laugh-In” on NBC.  Instead of ignoring her competition, Ball embraced them by featuring stories about football and incorporating many of the catch phrases and guest stars from “Laugh-In.” 

(14) Lucy spoke too soon!  Just a few months after this interview was published Ball did indeed have a skiing accident in Snowmass and broke her leg. With season five’s first shooting date approaching, Ball was faced with either ending the series or re-write the scripts so that Lucy Carter would be in a leg cast.  She chose the latter, even incorporating actual footage of herself on the Snowmass  slopes (above) into "Lucy’s Big Break” (HL S5;E1). 

Elsewhere in the Issue...

“This Was Our Life” by Gene Shalit includes images of Lucille Ball in the collage illustration. 

A week after this issue of Look hit the stands, the fourth season of “Here’s Lucy” kicked off with guest star Flip Wilson and a parody of Gone With the Wind.  Three days later, Ball guest-starred on his show. 

Not to be outdone, LOOK’s rival LIFE also devoted an entire issue to television, on news stands just three days later.  

Naturally, “I Love Lucy” didn’t escape mention!  I’m not sure why the show’s run is bifurcated: 1952-55, 1956-57.  Actually, the show began in 1951 and ran continually until 1957. 

Click here for more about Look, Life and Time! 

[ourooboroos]

Intermission

HELLO. @the-ghost-of-william-herondale and I have begun a TSC AU Challenge wherein we each write AUs and then must use some part of each other’s fic for our next AU. 

(They’ve also posted a fic and it’s wonderful and I 10/10 recommend you go read it!) Here’s my first one! 

Read the full thing below the cut or on my AO3. 

***

“Alec? You’re drooling.”

Alec whirls around, releasing his grip on the thick rope next to him. It springs up a tiny bit, and the pulley above it shudders. Izzy’s smirking at him, her face caked in stage makeup and wearing a loose orange jumpsuit.

“I am not,” Alec says, but he swipes his sleeve over his mouth just in case. “I’m just, uh. Getting ready for intermission.”

Izzy snorts. “Intermission isn't for, like, three scenes.” She reaches out and pats him on the shoulder, and Alec rolls his eyes at her. “It’s okay, you can admit that you like what you see.”

“Shut up.”

“Only because you asked so nicely.”

Alec waits until his sister has gone further into the wing before turning back to the stage. Izzy’s right, they have another song and a half until intermission, plus a short scene and two set changes. He has no reason to be so close to the curtain pull. But. Can anyone blame him for being a little distracted? The school’s star is on stage at this very moment, dressed for their last rehearsal in much too large trousers and an oversized sports coat, and he looks absolutely stunning. Also, he’s singing. And Alec may be in love with his voice.

When Alec’s parents had divorced and his mother had packed up her life along with his, Izzy’s, Jace’s, and Max’s, Alec was… upset to say the least. He loved his life in New York and moving in the middle of his senior year because his father had had an affair was not high on things he wanted to do. Another thing that was not high on that list was working tech crew for his new school’s spring musical.

But then Izzy was cast as Brooke Wyndham and she didn’t have a car to drive home after rehearsal every day and Jace was on the baseball team so he couldn’t help and Izzy begged Alec and the guy playing Emmett was so hot…

So here he is.

It’s been three months of rehearsals and Emmett (his name is Magnus, dammit, Alec reminds himself) has just gotten better and better and could probably play Elle Woods himself, if matters depended on it, and look damn good doing it (as it stands, Helen is playing Elle, but like… Alec can just tell that Magnus would be really excellent as any character, okay?). But Alec hasn’t been able to endear himself to Magnus at all. In three months. And the first actual performance was tomorrow night with three following over the weekend and then, come Monday, Alec would have no reason to see Magnus anymore (he had come to realize, belatedly, perhaps, that they shared no classes or their lunch period, which, quite frankly, was just cruel).

Alec sighs and turns his head back to the stage just as Magnus is moving into the final line of the song. It’s like music to his ears. Well. Better than music. Like angel’s singing. Or something. Whatever.

“Hey,” comes a voice from behind him, and he looks over his shoulder to see another member of the stage crew, a girl he hasn’t spent much time with, but who painted a lot of the sets. He thinks her name is Carrie? Maybe? Her shockingly red hair is much easier to remember than her name, all things considered. “Ready for the set change?”

Alec’s eyes drift over to the large wooden cut out of a mobile trailer set off to the side. “Yeah,” he replies. He and Clary move over and each grip a side of the set piece and wait until Magnus finishes the last note he’s holding and the stage lights dim. A small group of stage crew members pop out from the other wing and carry off the Harvard set and Alec and Clary get moving. Raj runs out with a trash can and a piece of sheer fabric with trash and debris attached to it. The trailer is set slightly to stage right, with the trash can next to it, the fabric spread along the stage floor. Andrew moves to stand behind the trailer, dressed in a grubby tank top and boxers and carrying a large stuffed bulldog. Clary turns and jogs quietly back to the wing and as Alec follows, he bumps into Magnus, who has turned his eyes to the floor as he finds his next mark.

“Sorry,” Alec whispers, but Magnus just sends him a kind smile and raises his hand in apology. Alec’s heart thumps heavily, rapidly, and he ignores it as best he can as he stalks quickly to the wing. Izzy’s watching him, grinning, when he gets back to his spot. “Shut up.”

****

Opening night arrives in a flurry of tickets and programs and two dollar concessions in the school lobby. Alec is standing around backstage with the other stage hands as the cast members prepare in the dressing rooms down a nearby hall. Clary’s doodling something in her sketchbook and Raj is telling some story that Alec is only pretending to listen to. He’s relieved when Izzy pops out of the hallway connecting to the dressing rooms and grabs his arm. “Come with me,” she says, and tugs him into the hall.

Alec furrows his brow but lets her drag him. “Izzy, wha-” but before he can finish, she’s opened the door to the men’s dressing room and shoves him in with a smile. Alec stares at the door for a moment, confused, but spins when someone clears their throat.

Magnus. He stands across the room, near a vanity, already in costume and makeup. His hair is free of its normal faux-hawk and instead parted neatly on one side and combed loosely back. He’s in another too big sports coat and ill-fitting trousers that reach the toes of his Converse, and he’s missing the glitter and jewelry that he donned before dress rehearsals began. His smile is gentle and his voice soft as he says, “Hi.”

Alec knows his eyes are wide, and he can feel the heat creeping up his neck. He’s glad the rest of the room is empty - which, how? - as he backs up a little and his back hits the door. “H-hey.”

Magnus’s smile falls as Alec wrings his hands in front of him. “I don’t…” he pauses to clear his throat again and his gaze darts to the floor before he meets Alec’s eyes again. “I’m sorry, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I didn’t even think-”

Ah, shit. “No,” Alec interrupts. “I’m not… okay, I am, but it’s not a bad thing,” he says, sputtering slightly. When Magnus’s lips twitch, he lets out a breath and runs a hand over the back of his head. “What… uh, why did Izzy bring me here?” His eyes flick around the room - the bright lights on the vanities that line one wall, the open wardrobes along the other, the backpacks and sneakers scattered along the floor - before landing on the top of Magnus’s head. Meeting his eyes, which Alec has just realized are the deepest, richest shade of brown, is just too difficult.

“I wanted to talk to you,” Magnus says easily, and Alec’s face grows hotter.

“...Why?”

Alec sees Magnus glance at the clock above the vanities, and takes a peek himself. They have half an hour until places. Magnus takes a step forward and Alec watches, motionless. He wonders, briefly, if this is what an antelope feels like when it sees a lioness about to attack. “You’re new this year.”

“Yeah.”

“And we don’t have any classes together.” Another step.

“No.”

Magnus pauses a few feet away and smiles and Alec finally meets his eyes. They’re shining in the fluorescent room. “So I just… wanted to get to know you better. I’m sorry it’s taken me three months to say anything, but-”

“Better late than never,” Alec blurts out. He resists the urge to clap a hand over his mouth, because, fuck, he’s embarrassing himself, but then Magnus laughs, loud and bright. “Exactly.”

They stand there silently for a moment, simply looking at each other. Alec feels like he’s allowed to now, maybe, and his eyes rove over the planes of Magnus’s face, his strong jaw and his smooth skin, even as he has stage makeup coating his face. It feels weird, staring at him so openly after months of covert glances and watching him from the shadows backstage. At the same time, he can sense Magnus’s eyes on him, and he wonders what he thinks. Perhaps, one day, he can ask him.

“So…” Alec begins, not sure where this sentence is heading. He scratches his cheek. Magnus is smiling at him encouragingly. “You’ve been, uh, really good. Brilliant, I mean. Y’know, out there, as… as Emmett.”

Magnus laughs again, and Alec grins. He thinks he could get used to that sound - it’s almost as melodic as Magnus’s singing. “Thank you.” He gestures to his costume and tugs at the sleeves of his coat. “I’m not a huge fan of the costume, though.”

“I mean,” Alec clears his throat, “there’s the, uh, shopping scene. You look pretty great there.” He quickly averts his gaze, but looks back just in time to see Magnus’s face redden. He preens a little.

“Thank you, Alexander,” Magnus says, voice even softer than it had been earlier, and Alec’s heart nestles tightly in his throat, nearly causing him to choke. Nobody calls him Alexander. Not his mother, his father, any of his siblings or relatives… he’d never been okay with anyone calling him Alexander. But coming out of Magnus’s mouth, it sounds right.

Alec opens his mouth, about to say as much, when there’s a sharp knock on the door.

“Are you guys done in there? I need to finish getting dressed.”

Magnus and Alec meet each other’s eyes and crack matching grins.

****

Opening night had gone off without a hitch (except for when Lydia tripped over her jump rope during “Whipped Into Shape”), and now it was Saturday. There are two performances today, one at noon and one at 7pm, and everyone involved is ready for it to be a long day. Alec’s packed himself and Izzy a few granola bars, bottles of water, and energy drinks (despite how much he loathes them) just to keep himself awake.

It’s not like he spent most of last night thinking about Magnus and their talk in the dressing room, or the way Magnus had hip-bumped him during intermission, or the way he’d asked Alec for help fixing his hair before the final scene, or the way he’d given Alec one of the flowers that his friend Catarina had brought for him when they bumped into each other in the parking lot before heading home.

Anyway.

The matinee is going smoothly so far, and it’s nearly intermission (actually, this time. Like it really is almost intermission) so Alec is standing near the curtain pull, just waiting for the stage lights to dim and the music to die down. He knows his cue. It’s the end of the scene where Elle finds out she got the internship.

And it’s because he knows his cue that he doesn’t feel bad about blatantly watching Magnus as he points to the board on the Harvard set, pinches Helen, and then quietly makes his way off-stage, heading towards Alec’s wing. Alec smiles at him and goes back to watching Helen sing. But before he knows what’s happening, he’s being shoved against the wall behind him. His eyes widen as Magnus grips his shoulders and leans in quickly and without warning.

And then they’re kissing. Alec relaxes as Magnus presses against him, his lips soft and his body warm. He faintly hears quiet golf claps coming from further backstage and he raises a hand to flip off whoever it is before his hands settle on Magnus’s waist.

Magnus pulls back after a long moment, and Alec can do nothing but stare at him, grinning widely. Magnus is smiling back and I can get used to that, Alec thinks.

“...than before!”

The stage lights flicker out.

Alec spins, pulling the rope and swinging the heavy velvet curtains closed as Magnus laughs behind him.

And yeah. He could get used to this.

[theydontknowaboutusimagines]

Someone Special - Harry Styles Christmas Series (Part 4)

Part 3

Saturday Night Live 

It’s been two days since you’ve last spent time with Harry. He had been busy with rehearsals and filming as the week got closer and you had been staying in your hotel room working on new songs. It was like someone had turned on a face and inspiration just poured out of you. You had written four songs over the course of the two days. You couldn’t wait until you got back to LA, so that you could work your magic on them. 

And maybe your album would finally be finished. You were currently eating outside a small cafe as you wrote in your journal. You were nibbling on your sandwich when you heard an alert on your phone. You finished your sentence before picking up your phone and looking at the message. It was from Harry. 

Even though you two hadn’t seen each other in person, you were still chatting through text messaging a little bit. 

Hiya. How’s your day going? 

It’s going. I’m having lunch right now. How about you? Ready for your big night? 

Actually, that’s why I’m texting... I was wondering if you’d like to attend the show tonight. You know to see if all your pointers helped. 

You stared at the message for a bit, wondering how you were going to answer. You felt like this was a big thing, for him to want you there, seeing as how you just met. But oddly enough, you were happy he had invited you. 

Hmm... I think I could squeeze it into my schedule. 

Sooooooo, that’s a yes? 

Yes, it’s a yes. 

Great! I’ll leave your name at the door and I’ll see you tonight. 

You couldn’t help the smile that formed across your lips before you went back to your lunch.

Later that night, you were standing in your hotel room wrapped in a towel after getting out of the shower. You were going through your suitcase for something to wear. Since you were only coming for a few days, you didn’t really pack a whole lot. Luckily, you thought to bring a simple black dress and boots with you in case you went out one night. Although, you hadn’t exactly planned on that night out being SNL or with anyone. 

Not that it meant anything. You were going in support of a new friend, that’s it. Once you got the dress from your suitcase, you went into the bathroom to do your makeup and hair. When that was all finished, you pulled the dress up your body and slipped into your boots. 

You grabbed your coat and your bag before double checking in the mirror. You were feeling a little bit anxious and you had no clue why. But you shook the anxious feelings away and headed down to the lobby to meet your car. 

**

It was less than an hour until showtime and the adrenaline Harry was feeling was through the roof. He wasn’t exactly nervous, just ready to get out there and have a good time. He was backstage getting his makeup and hair done, when someone poked their head into the room. 

“How’s it going?” Jeff said sitting down on the couch. “Ready for tonight?” 

“More than ready,” Harry said. 

“So, I noticed you add a name to your list,” he smirked. 

“Where are you going with this, Jeff?” Harry sighed. 

“Just wondering where you’re going with this,” Jeff said. 

“Nowhere,” Harry said. “We’re getting to know each other... making friends... why do you assume it’s more than that?” 

“Because you just met her and now you invited her to the show,” he pointed out. 

“I was being nice,” Harry said. “Some of our conversations were about her being the host on SNL, and so I thought it would be nice to invite her, which I did.” 

Jeff nodded,”Okay, okay, I just hope you know what you’re doing.” 

“I do and I’m not doing anything,” Harry said. 

“Whatever you say,” he said holding his hands up in defense. 

Before Harry could say anything, another person poked their into the room, it was security, “Mr. Styles, you have a visitor from your list. Would you like me to send her in?” 

Jeff smirked over at Harry, who rolled his eyes, “Yes, please, thank you.” 

Less than a minute later, you walked through the door. His eyes widen a bit when he saw you and felt something flutter inside of him, but he quickly ignored it. 

“Y/N, hi, um, you came,” he smiled. 

“I said I would, didn’t I?” you smiled. 

“You did, thank you,” he smiled. “Um, let me introduce you to Jeff, my manager.” 

“Oh, hello,” you smiled holding out your hand. 

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” he smiled. “Big fan, by the way.” 

“Thank you,” you smile. “Nice to meet you, too.” 

“You look lovely,” Harry smiled. 

“Thank you,” you said. “So, how are you feeling? It’s almost showtime.” 

“Pretty good,” he said. “Just ready to get out there, you know?” 

“I do know, actually,” you laughed. 

“Right,” he pointed at you with a laugh. 

“Well, I don’t want to take up much of your time, but I thought I’d say hi before the show started,” you said. 

“I’m happy you did,” Harry smiled. 

You smiled back at him, “And don’t worry, you're going to fucking kill it out there.” 

“Thank you,” Harry smiled. 

You gave him a bit of a wave before leaving the room, in which Jeff looked over at Harry, who was still staring at the door. 

“Oh, yeah, there’s nothing going on there at all,” Jeff smirked. 

“Fuck off,” Harry rolled his eyes. 

**

When it was time for the show, you took your seat near the side, away from the rest of the audience. You laughed during the entire show and found yourself dancing along during the performances. You could tell Harry was having the best time and he was doing so well. At the end of the show, after Harry and th rest of the cast members were doing the traditional hugs. 

You weren’t sure if you should go backstage and meet him again, or if you should just wait out to see if he wanted to see you. You knew there would be an afterparty to attend, but you didn’t know if Harry would invite you and if he did, if you should even go. During your thoughts, you didn’t even realize Harry had made his way over to you, until he called your name. 

“What? Oh, hi,” you smiled. 

“You okay?” He laughed. 

“Yeah, just uh, I got lost in my thoughts,” you laughed. “You did so great.” 

“Thank you,” he smiled. “I’m really happy with how everything went.” 

“Well, you deserve it,” you smiled. 

Harry ran his hand through his hair before looking over at you, “Um, would you want to join us as the afterparty?” 

“Oh, um, I wouldn’t want to impose,” you said. “I’m sure you’d rather celebrate with your friends.” 

“Last time I’m checked we’re friends...” he smirked. 

“Is that you’re way of trying to convince me to go?” you laughed. 

“Depends, is it working?” He smirked. 

“Oh, what the hell,” you said. “I’ll go.” 

“Fuck yes!” He smirked clapping his hands. “I’m going to go change and we can just go in the same car together.” 

“O-oh okay,” you nodded. 

“You can come backstage and wait, if you’d like,” he said. 

“Um, yeah, sure,” you said. 

You followed him backstage, where he ducked into the dressing room to change. You looked around as you waited seeing some of Harry’s friends and people of his team. A few of them looked over at you and you gave them a small smile before looking at your phone. 

About ten minutes later, Harry came out of the dressing room and walked over to you, “Ready?” He asked. 

“Yeah,” you smiled. 

Harry smiled leading you out of the studio and to a waiting car, where Jeff and Harry L were already waiting. Harry gave them a look as they smirked at him as you got in and he followed in behind you. The short drive to the venue was a bit awkward. You could tell there were some questions wanting to be asked, but you were pretty sure Harry had made it so that neither of them brought it up. 

**

During the party, you were a few drinks in, when Harry made his way back over to you. 

“There you are,” he said. “Sorry, I went to get our drinks and got caught up.” 

“It’s fine,” you smiled taking the drink from his hand. “This is your night, you don’t have entertain me.” 

“Well, I invited you though,” he said. 

You smiled throwing back your drink, when your favorite song came on over the loud speaker. 

“Oh my god,” you said standing up. 

“What?” Harry asked. “What’s wrong?” 

You laughed grabbing his arm and pulling him up, “Nothing, come on let’s go dance. This is my favorite song... one of them at least.” 

Harry laughed following you out to the dance floor. You moved around to the beat of music. Neither of you were sure how it happened, but as the song played on and went into the next song and then another, the two you soon found yourselves with only mere inches in-between you. You looked up at him, and saw him looking down at you. 

You swallowed back a lump in throat as you felt heat radiating between you. Electricity trying to pull you closer to one another. You noticed his gaze turning down to your lips and back up to your eyes which caused you do the same to his. You bit your lip as your body moved it’s self closer to him, leaning towards the direction of his lips. Sensing what you were about to do, Harry was closing the distance even more, but just before either of you could press your lips agains the other’s, you two were interrupted. 

“Harry!” You heard someone shout from behind you two. 

You both turned around, seeing one of the member’s from Harry’s band. You weren’t sure her name, but you knew she played the drums. 

“Sorry to interrupt, but we’re doing shots and we can’t do it without our fearless leader,” she smirked. 

“I-Um-” Harry said looking over at you. “Wait right here, I’ll be just one minute.” 

“Okay,” you said nodding. 

As soon as you saw Harry  with his band, you quickly got your things and made your way for the exit. You couldn’t believe that you almost let yourself kiss him. You quickly ordered for a car and stood to the side as you waited. You felt bad just ditching Harry like that, but you were afraid of what would happen if you didn’t leave. 

When the car pulled up, you got inside and your phone went off. 

Where’d you go?

Sorry, I didn’t realize how late i was. I’ve got an early flight, so I’m headed back to the hotel. 

And you couldn’t have at least said goodbye? 

I’m sorry. I had a great time this week. I’ll keep in touch, promise. 

You didn’t even bother waiting on a response because you couldn’t face it right then, so you turned off your phone. You leaned your head against the window as you replayed what almost happened back there. There was no way you had feelings for him. One, you just met, and two, you weren’t looking to be in a relationship. To say you weren’t attracted to him though, would be a lie, so maybe that’s what it was. 

You were just living in the moment and by having a few drinks in you, you were just reacting like a normal human being when they were with someone attractive. This almost kissing situation didn’t mean you felt anything for him other than being friends, right? 

Right? 

And that’s exactly what you told yourself. You do not, nor will not, ever have feelings for him. Because you did make a toast after all and there was no fucking chance you were falling in love this Christmas. 

**

Welp... what do you think? Are feelings involved? Or was it a simple caught up in the moment for the two? 

[anxious-cosplayer]

Break a leg - Prinxiety (Roman x Virgil) Chapter Three

Word count: 1.3k Chapter One - Chapter Two -.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The new light worked fine, and the performance went on to be a success once again. Virgil sat in his light booth, watching scene after scene of rehearsed lines and songs before the show came to an end with a loud and thunderous applause. The emo couldn’t help but smirk a little as he saw how much Roman lived for the applause. 

Virgil turned on the house lights as the curtain fell and waited for the audience to start clearing out. He wanted to go home as he was certainly ready to climb under the covers and stay up watching YouTube and scrolling through Tumblr. The audience quickly cleared out in hopes that they could catch some of the cast before they left. Virgil turned all the rigging off and left the booth, locking the door behind him. 

Virgil pulled his hood back up and over his head and left the theatre, headphones firmly on his ears. People were already swarming the cast members for photos and Virgil had to weave his way through the crowd to the exit. What he didn’t notice was that Roman was trying to catch his attention. But they were too far away from each other and it was much too loud to hear each other. Roman had missed his chance. 

Virgil went home safely that night and did stay up way too late watching conspiracy theories and looking at new Good Omens fanart. Did you know that Avril Lavigne died and was replaced by another person back in 2003? 

On Monday, Virgil was awoken by his alarm and quickly rushed to get ready for school that day. Sunday was the day off for the cast and crew so Virgil had tonight to look forward to. He found that he actually liked the theatre now. 

One walk later, Virgil arrived at school. Patton and Logan were waiting for him. And as soon as they saw him, Virgil did give them a guilty smile.

“Virgil you have got to stop skipping breakfast, young man!” Patton scolded him and handed him one of the muffins that he had in his bag. That was the great thing about Patton. He and his parents loved to bake so he almost always had some baked goodies on him. 

“I know, I know. Thanks, Pat,” Virgil took the muffin gratefully. Apple and cinnamon. His favourite. 

The bell rang and all the students started to scramble to class. Virgil went class after class, time passing by him quite quickly as he worked quietly. After all, no one really bothered him. I guess that was the advantage of being a social outcast. Patton and Logan would sit next to him when they had classes together and met up with him at lunch and recess. It was a normal school day.

Until that afternoon. 

English was an okay subject for Virgil. He liked writing stories and reading the plays but he hated writing essays. They were very time consuming and not interesting. It was also the class where Logan and Patton sat with him. Virgil walked into the classroom to find that everyone was staring at him. Was he late? He glanced over to his seat. 

Oh, come on.

Where he and Logan would sit, he found the space occupied by Roman. Patton and Logan were seated behind him instead. Virgil slowly walked over to see if there were any other seats but it was the only one left. He sat next to Roman, while everyone else in the class glared daggers at him. Oh god, this was so humiliating!

“Hey!”

“Hi.”

The tension was palpable. Everyone must hate him so much right now. This was really scary. Virgil sunk back into his hoodie and seat. Roman opened his mouth to talk to Virgil some more but then the teacher walked in announcing they would be starting Shakespeare today.

Virgil took this opportunity to try and block Roman’s attempt at conversation by concentrating on reading Romeo and Juliet but soon the teacher said they should discuss the story and characters in pairs. So Virgil was forced to cooperate.

“I tried to talk to you on Saturday night but you left,” Roman began. Virgil started to spiral. Does this mean he hates him now? But he didn’t notice him. There were so many people! How was Virgil meant to know!? And now Roman probably wants nothing to do with him.

“I-I’m sorry-”

“Don’t apologise! I can talk to you now!” Roman gave him a dazzling smile. Virgil was almost blinded by it. “I just wanted to get to know you better.”

Now Virgil was confused, “me? Why do you want to get to know me?” 

“You intrigue me. I want to know what you do when you aren’t in the theatre. Like what your favourite subject is! Or what you do in your spare time when you aren’t buried in assignments.” Roman quickly glanced to see if the teacher noticed what they were doing but it was clear that they were too engrossed in their computer to care. Roman attention remained on Virgil, waiting for him to answer.

Virgil stayed silent, too embarrassed to answer, and Roman was a little taken back. Patton was not having this and kicked the back of Virgil’s chair, prompting him to speak. Virgil cleared his throat a little, “well, I like art.”

Roman eyes sparked. He had an answer! Virgil then proceeded to mumble things that he likes to do, “I watch a lot of conspiracy theories and listen to My Chemical Romance.” 

“My Chemical Romance? That emo band from 2009?” Roman meant it jokingly but Virgil kind of took it the wrong way.

“If you’re just gonna make fun of me then don’t bother asking to get to know me.”

Roman panicked, “no! I didn’t mean it like that! Prssh! My Chemical Romance is MY favourite band! I love their music!”

Virgil could tell that Roman had never listened to an MCR song in his life. “Who’s the lead singer?”

“Um… G-Gerald? Gerald Wayne?”

Virgil burst out in laughter. “Gerald Wayne?!” He quickly shut up when he saw the other students stared at him for laughing. Roman thought his laugh was beautiful. 

“It’s Gerard Way,” Virgil mumbled. The silence was hung between the pair as the other classmates chatted away. 

“Did you know that Avril Lavigne probably died in 2003 and they replaced her with a similar person so they could keep the brand alive?”

Virgil was a little shocked that Roman knew about such conspiracy theories. They soon started to rebuttal theories and Virgil (somehow) fell even more for the theatre boy. 

The bell shrilly rang and Virgil started to pack his bag, ready to leave. Roman stopped him before he could go.

“Hey! Are you gonna go to the afterparty for the musical at the end of the week?” Roman gave him the most dazzling smile. Virgil was a little overwhelmed by it, to be honest. So bright!

After he recovered from that, Virgil finally processed what he said. The afterparty? No way! His anxiety was bad enough with everyone in the class staring at him. There was no way in fresh hell he was gonna go to any party.

“Um, no.”

Roman stuttered a little, “o-oh.”

“Yeah, I’m not really one for parties. Too loud and too many people.”

“Well, please tell me if you do reconsider. It would feel wrong without you there.”

Roman flashed Virgil one last smile and Virgil sheepishly nodded as Roman left the room. My god. Virgil finally let out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding. 

Logan and Patton finally joined him.

“So?” Patton pestered, “did it go well?” Virgil smiled as Patton squealed a little.

“He did ask if I was going to the afterparty but I said no.” It was at that point Logan had something to offer.

“Fascinating. I had heard he was planning on taking someone to that. I wonder who he was going to ask.”

Virgil shrugged it off, “it’s probably just a rumour.”

Patton resisted the urge to roll his eyes all the way back into his head.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

I am so so SO sorry this took so long to come out but I certainly hope it was worth it! Schoolwork does sometimes get in the way of my projects but oh well. Let me know your thoughts! Requests are still open - Anx

[floutua]

where are you now

This was requested by an anon who wanted a FIve soulmate AU and I might make a part two to this because Five doesn’t actually appear in the beginning and I’m quite sorry about that! Thank you for sending in this request!

p/s: I was supposed to post this on Saturday but I forgot so now I’m quickly doing this from my phone! Regular posting starts next week! Thank you!

“Ouch.” Your friend, Vanya, winces when you step into the auditorium and you nod your head, pulling your sweater tighter around you, shivering slightly despite the rather warm air in the auditorium. She wraps an arm around you, pulling you close to her as the two of you head towards the stage. “On a scale of one to ten, how cold are you today?”

You furrow your eyebrows at her question, holding on to your violin case tightly. “About an 8.” You tell her flatly and Vanya shakes her head. The pity looks you have been getting while on your way to college almost made you want to turn around and go back home but as much as you would love to do just that, you absolutely could not. Today is the last day of rehearsals and you really cannot afford to miss this lest you want to mess up your performance tomorrow.

“That’s really bad.” Vanya agrees; she knew how that felt. She had been in the exact situation before she had stumbled upon Leonard, literally (however this is a different story altogether) and Vanya was always seen wearing very, very thick clothes due to how cold she felt all the time. “I hope you can meet your soulmate soon.” Vanya whispers as she releases you from her hold and you smile at her, reaching over to squeeze her hand appreciatively. Vanya smiles back at you and you drop her hand, moving over to where your seat is.

You often wonder where and when you will be able to meet your soulmate. It was not always a guaranteed happy ending (take your mum for example; ever since your dad passed away, she is always feeling a tad bit too warm or a tad bit too cold – there was no in between for her) but despite that, you still want to find out who your soulmate is: mostly because you want to give him or her an earful for always leaving you feeling extremely cold!

There was an instance where you had felt that warmth from being in the same vicinity as you but unfortunately, that day had been one of the very first times you had performed with the team and there was a huge audience. So, you really could not tell where he or she had been at that time. A smile appears on your face as you recall back your first day; that had been where you met Vanya Hargreeves – your best friend forever.

Vanya had been a quiet teen back then but because the two of you played the violin, the both of you always end up staying back together to do more practice and that soon turned in to eating lunch together and occasionally dinner at Griddy’s or at your house. You rarely ever get the chance to go to her house – on the account that Vanya thinks her siblings will scare you away, which you laugh off because Vanya is the sweetest person you have ever met and sure, she has her issues – because honestly you would too if your older sister is a well-known rising actress – but so do you.

Once rehearsal is done, you begin to pack up your violin, feeling less nervous after the satisfying runs the entire team did. Vanya taps you on the shoulder and you smile at her. “I know I promised that we would go out for dinner tonight, but my brother just came back, and can we take a rain check?” She asks you apologetically, bringing her two hands together.

The smile falters from your face and you nod your head, turning to face her. “Which brother?” You ask her; you know Vanya has a few brothers, an older sister and a fraternal twin. “And of course, Vanya; I don’t mind. Family is much more important.” You assure her and Vanya shakes her head, reaching over to hold your hand.

“You are family too, Y/N.” Vanya emphasizes, and you smile at her words. “Five!” She tells you and you nod your head; out of all of her siblings, the only ones you have yet to meet were Luther (because he is an astronaut and is working with NASA) and Five (who never seems to be in the country whenever you happen to be free). “My entire family will be here tomorrow, maybe you can meet them tomorrow.”

You nod your head. “I wouldn’t hold you onto that.” You point out and Vanya chuckles under her breath. “By entire family… you mean?”

“Allison’s here with her family – Patrick and Claire – and Luther is on leave! Five had gone with Mum to visit our grandfather, Pogo in Manchester.” Vanya explains and you nod your head. You have always admired Vanya’s love for her family; whenever she talks about them, you cannot help but feel happy too. You were an only child and only had your mum, so you never really had the privilege of knowing what it feels like to be in a big family. Vanya’s phone beeps a few times and she pick up her phone, looking through the messages. “Oh, Leonard’s here. Do you want Leonard and I to drop you off?”

You nod your head and Vanya smiles at you before she went back to her seat to pick up her violin case. She walks back over to you and you hook your arm around hers and the two of you walk out of the auditorium.

Your cheeks are starting to hurt from the amount of smiling you have been doing the entire time. Your first solo performance had ended, and you were grateful everything had gone smoothly, even the team performance as well. Even if you had placed second (Vanya placed first for the solo performance), you were really happy. Today was different; you had woken up that morning feeling slightly warmer than you had the day before and as the day progresses, you were starting to feel toasty and you had been nervous with anticipation and dread. Pulling back from the hug, you smile at Vanya. “I am so happy for you, V. You deserved that first place!”

Vanya chuckles under her breath, thanking you profusely; she hadn’t exactly expected to win because your performance had been impeccable as always. “Come, meet my family!” Without even waiting for your reply, Vanya pulls your hand and drags you out of the room and in to the hallway where there is a group of people chatting among themselves. The chattering stop the moment Vanya approaches them with you in tow and suddenly, you start to sweat, feeling the temperature rise like crazy and your eyes immediately seek out the two members of Vanya’s family that you have to meet: Luther and Five and your mouth suddenly feels dry. “Everyone, this is my best friend, Y/N and Y/N, you have heard about most of them! This is Luther, Diego, Allison, Klaus, Five and Ben.” Vanya introduces and you give them a small smile, before excusing yourself and dragging Vanya with you.

“V, he’s here!” You tell her, eyes wide as you try to ignore the confused looks burning at the back of your head. Now that you are a bit further away, you don’t feel as hot and Vanya takes out her handkerchief, handing it to you upon seeing the sweat on your forehead. “Literally – it’s either Luther or Five!” You hiss at her, starting to panic and Vanya’s eyes widen when she finally registers what you have just said. She looks at her brothers and look at you.

“You did say you’ve been feeling hot too.” Vanya reaches for your hand and she frowns when she realizes just how hot you were. It must have been hard on you to be near her family. “I think you should probably get some rest; you’re looking a tad bit too pale.” Vanya informs you but before you could even say anything, your vision starts to blur, and you are feeling very light-headed and the next thing you know is Vanya screaming your name as you fall.

You wake up to the sound of someone scribbling something and you wince as you try to move your body, slowly opening your eyes. You glance around and realize that you are not in the hospital – like you initially thought – but that you were in someone’s room. “Where am I?” You murmur and turn to look at the person who had been scribbling earlier. To your immense surprise, it is none other than Vanya’s brother, Five.

Five abruptly stops writing and looks at you – his stare so intense you almost forgot about the fact that he might possibly be your soulmate. “I have had people throwing themselves at me but never falling at my feet.” He tells you with a straight face and you furrow your eyebrows but just as you are about to open your mouth to refute, Five speaks once more. “You must be my soulmate.”

Your heart begins to race, and your eyes widen as you take in what he had just said. You blink a couple of times when you realize that despite being this close to your soulmate, your body temperature feels like it is at an impasse and you open your mouth only to close it because… what do you say to your soulmate? So, you just nod your head dumbly. “Yeah, I suppose I am.”

[just-some-gt-trash]

The sea’s secret

Chapter one: The beginning

Part one

The girl struggled in her bed turn the alarm off, even if today was Saturday, Roman wanted her an Logan to go in some ‘family experience’ or something, so they had to be up early.

As she sat in her bed while yawning, she couldn’t stop thinking about the idea she had last night when Roman announced his, maybe being the three of them together alone was a good chance to tell them.

She wanted to tell her brothers her biggest secret.

She wanted to tell them she was a mermaid.

She still had some troubles with that though, on one side, Logan was a marine biologist and even if she was almost sure he wouldn’t dare to take her to a lab she didn’t want to risk, maybe just tell Roman was good for now.

She would have stood there thinking if it wasn’t for the knocking that sounded from her door with a voice, Roman’s voice.

“Hey Jane, are you awake?”

“Yeah... I’ll be out in a moment...”

“Okay, but hurry up, you know how impatient Logan is”

Roman’s commentary made her giggle, that sounded like Logan, ever since they were younger he had always been like that, especially with her and when she first joined the family, after all, bonding with Logan was pretty hard, and that was another thing that made her doubt.

She had always been closer to Roman after all.

She snapped herself out of her thoughts this time and started getting ready before Logan started to get impatient.

Once she was ready she headed to the kitchen to find Logan reading while Roman packed some things in a bag.

“Good morning”

“Salutations, it seems like you’re finally ready” said Logan closing his book and standing up.

“Take it easy Microsoft nerd, not everyone has an obsession with punctuality like you” said Roman while closing the bag.

“Well, everyone, or at least you two, should, anyways where are you going to take us Roman?”

“I already told you, it’s a surprise, you need to chill and just take a leap of faith and trust in me more often”

Logan and Jane looked at each other, both doubting if trusting Roman was a good idea.

The three of them got out of the house and started walking with Roman on the lead, Logan kept insisting on knowing where was he taking them, until they arrived, to the dock.

“Ta-da!” said Roman when he stopped and turned to see his siblings.

“And... what are we supposed to be doing here?” Asked Logan.

“First, I need your phones”

“What? Why?” Said Jane and Logan together.

“Because, you” he pointed to Jane “are always with your headphones, and you” he pointed at Logan “always get a call from work or something like that, so, I decided, this is a no phones day” he finished while extending his hands and smirking.

Once both phones were on Roman’s hands and subsequently on his backpack, he started walking again to one of the boats whit his smile not leaving his face, just to stop again in front of the boat’s door while getting a pair of keys out of his pocket.

“Don’t tell me you rented a boat” said Jane, she never liked boats, ironically, she always got sick very easily, an also, the water splashed very easily to the top, and getting wet without nowhere to run was not an option.

“Oh yes I did” Roman used one of the keys to open the door of the boat “ladies first” he said extending his arms to let his sister in.

Without nothing more to say she got into the boat, followed by Logan and then Roman.

“I don’t get it, you already have a boat, why bothering on renting one?” Asked Logan looking around.

“Do you really prefer spending all the day in a small fishing boat?”

“I guess you do have a point”

“Speaking of which, I think there are some fishing rods in the back, Jane, could you bring them and maybe we can try and catch something for lunch”

“Aye aye captain, as long as we stay in the fishing zones” she said while going to the back to grab them.

“May I remind you that we haven’t had breakfast? Do we really have to wait until we manage to catch something?”

”Relax, I packed some food for the meantime”

”Tell me that at least is something healthy”

”You tell me” Roman passed his backpack to Logan ”Jam and peanut butter sandwiches”

”Which jam?”

”Crofters, obviously"

”I’ll eat some then” he said heading to the front of the boat, there was a coffee table and a large couch.

Roman stayed at the cabin, turned the boat on and started to get on open sea.

Jane came back to the front with the fishing rods and Logan helped her fishing when Roman stopped the boat.

The two of them spent some minutes waiting for something, Logan sitting on the couch while Jane was standing next to her rod, resting her arms on the edges of the boat watching the sea, now that they weren't moving anymore she couldn't get sick or wet, so there was no risk.

Everything was calm and normal until Jane felt something and noticed that the pearl, on her bracelet, was shining, she leaned a little bit to see if she could find the cause of it, unsuccessful, she leaned a little more, whoever they were, they pearl must be shining too, so they should be looking for the cause too, so they should be near.

“Jane”

She almost fell to the water when she heard the voice of her brother calling her, when she recovered her balance she turned to see Roman keeping her hands on her back, making sure her left hand covered the pearl that was still shining.

“Hey Roman, what do you need?” She asked, trying to sound the less nervous as possible.

“I want to talk to you” he stopped talking to look at Logan for a moment and then return his gaze to his sister’s eyes “In private” he concluded and started walking back to the cabin.

“O-okay...” Jane started following Roman gazing back at Logan momentarily, who didn’t seem to notice their little talk, to be honest, her brother’s tone was worrying her, he was never that serious about something.

What if he already knew? What if he saw her on her mermaid form and she didn’t notice? What is this whole ‘family bonding time’ was to trap her? Or what if he was planning on exposing her in front of Logan?

She shook those thoughts out of her head and went inside the cabin, just before Roman closed the door behind her “so, what did you wanted to talk about?”

“Okay, uhm... how do I explain this?.. first of all, I don’t want you to worry, it’s nothing serious... I think...”

“Roman, chill, just spit it out” yes, she was nervous, but it looked like Roman was way more nervous, she just wanted to get this over with.

“Okay, here’s the thing. I think, I saw a mermaid”

Jane froze, those words, those were the words she was most afraid of “w-what?”

“Jane, I’m sure I saw a mermaid, well, a merman actually”

The girl felt her body relax as soon as those last words left Roman’s mouth, she still was worried though, what if that merman Roman saw was the one causing the shining of her bracelet? Even if he wasn’t the cause of it, the fact that Roman had saw one of her kind confirmed their existence, and that meat she could be closer to being discovered.

“I wanted to tell you first because I know Logan won’t believe me and I wanted you to help me convince him, because you believe me right?”

“I-I guess? I mean, w-why do you think you saw a merman?”

“Well, I was rehearsing for the auditions near the shore the other night and then I noticed there was another voice singing with me, I started to look around for the source and I saw someone sitting on a rock, I called him and we looked at each other’s eyes for a moment before he got into the water, I tried to stop him but I froze when I saw a tail behind him, and then he disappeared... look, I won’t blame you if you don’t believe me, maybe I was just really tired or I don’t know, but I know I want to believe that I saw what I saw”

“Roman... I-“ Jane couldn’t finish her sentence because of the sound the horn of a ship, a much larger one that was getting closer, Jane focused on it, it was closer now and she could read D Researches on the side, that was a ship from Logan’s work, great.

Jane and Roman got out of the cabin when both noticed Logan stood up and started talking to a man in the ship.

“So Lo, I guess these are your siblings” said the man.

“Oh yes, Dr. Dee, he’s my brother Roman and she’s my sister Jane” said Logan while gesturing to each of them when he said their name.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, you won’t believe how much Logan talks about you”

“Aww, really? Do you love us that much?” Said Roman teasing Logan.

“Well that’s weird ‘cause he rarely mentions you” whispered Jane to herself, she was almost sure Logan won’t dare to keep her in a lab, but any other scientist? The thought of that gave her hives, she glanced quickly to her bracelet, it was still shining, and that was bad, she crossed her arms trying to hide it, then, Logan’s rod started to move.

“Oh, I think we caught something” said Roman while grabbing the rod.

“So, I guess I’ll continue now, I don’t want to keep bothering you in your free day”

“Yes, I think it will be the best if we both go back to-“

“Hey Lo, could you help me with this, it seems it’s too strong” said Roman interrupting Logan.

“Wait really? Usually you’re the strongest of us” he said holding the rod and pulling a little with no success “Odd” he tried again, with more strength this time.

Jane noticed Dr. Dee was very interested in what her brothers were doing, too interested to notice Jane’s bracelet, that was shining even brighter now, but Jane did, and she quickly got her hand inside of one of her pockets to hide it.

Roman and Logan kept pulling the rod and whatever that was at the end of it with no success "What the hell did we catch?!" Shouted Roman and Jane feared the answer to that question, but it seemed that Dr. Dee was more intrigued than any of the others there, he made some signs to the rest of the people on his ship and they started moving until some of them hung something on a pulley. A net.

They started lowering it and that was when Roman and Logan noticed it due to the noise of the device, Logan didn't give it a lot of importance and continued with the attempt to bring up the end of the rod, however, a thought entered Roman’s head ’what if this was the merman? He could get caught in the net and then in a laboratory’ and without thinking twice he let go of the rod.

This almost threw Logan to the water but he managed to keep his balance, unfortunately, the rod was already on the water, sinking and disappearing from sight.

”Why did you let go?” Asked Logan to Roman a little annoyed.

”In case you didn't notice, your boss and his workers were attempting to catch it” Roman whispered, making sure the people on the other ship couldn't hear him.

”And what would have been the problem on that? That creature was way stronger than anything we have studied before, I could have been, figuratively, a huge discovery”

While her brothers continued arguing, Jane got closer to the edge trying to visualize something, and she did, the rod was somehow coming back to the surface, then, she realized the rod was not the only thing returning, the net was too, and it was full “uh guys” she said trying to get Roman and Logan’s attention.

Both boys looked at Jane, the net rising in front of her, the tree of them paralyzed when it’s content came to the light, a merman.

[xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx]

Distanced - Joe Trohman x Reader

Summary: Since Joe started playing in this new band you two have grown distant, so you decide to surprise him by showing up at their first concert Word count: 2 196 A/N: happy birthday to Emma over on wattpad! Thanks for always chatting with me^-^

You did not want to be that possessive friend who could not deal with their friend moving on to other people. And to be fair, that was not what was happening either. Just because Joe had started playing in a band, and hung out a lot with his bandmates now, practising, writing music, did not mean he did not like you anymore. But you felt left out, left behind, and even though you were happy for Joe, that he had finally found people who appreciated his talent, you still felt sad that you did not get to see him outside of school as often as you used to.

And that you had always had liked him a bit more than a simple friend should, did not make it easier for you.

So you did your best to give him space. Of course you missed the late night chats with him, talking about how school was super stressful, how other friends or classmates were annoying, about the latest gossip about the teachers, or the new releases of your favourite bands. But then again he did not seem to miss it; at least he never initiated any conversations anymore, so you did not either.

What made everything even worse was that it seemed like he did not want to let go either. He had invited you to a few of his band meetings, apologising that he could not find time to spend with you alone, to watch old, crappy movies, like you had done all the time. But his band mates seemed to be irritated by you, maybe it made them nervous that you just watched, without being able to contribute anything. Maybe they just did not like you. So after a couple of afternoons of hanging out with the band, you started declining Joe’s offer to tag along, feeling like you were doing everyone a favour if you stayed away.

But the fact that Joe still occasionally asked, made you feel worse, like it was actually you who was pushing him away, and not him who did not have time for you anymore. And you knew that Joe felt bad about it, the same way you did, and that in itself made things worse again.

So after about two months you actually caught yourself wishing that maybe you should just stay away from him completely, make a clean cut, break your own heart and forget about him.

As if he had sensed your decision, Joe started searching contact again. For a while you had gone pretty separate ways, even during break time at school, but all of a sudden he started appearing at your locker again, and when he dropped down next to you during lunch, you felt your heart jump into your throat once again.

“Mashed potatoes are the worst here,” he complained, not even bothering to say hello, but you did not mind, you knew he had a hard time with stuff like that, “this isn’t food, this is… I don’t even know… you could probably use it as cement or something.”

You laughed quietly. Oh how much you had missed Joe’s stupid commentary about the disgusting mashed potatoes that were served in the school.

“You don’t have to eat it, you know,” you teased him, ignoring the paper-like taste of the grey mash, and eating a spoon full.

“And starve? Do the school a favour by not terrorizing the teachers anymore? No, thanks.” He too laughed and started eating, chewing around on the mashed potatoes. “Yay, yummy.”

“Yeah, torture yourself and chew it. Great, well done,” you joked sarcastically.

Your bickering continued, and for a few precious minutes it felt like you never had distanced yourself. That was until a somewhat familiar, blonde haired boy turned up. You knew Patrick attended the same school as Joe and you, but before Joe had introduced him to you as his band mate, you had never noticed him. He was shy, quiet, but witty, and not harmless at all when he spoke, even though he looked like an angel.

“Hey Joe,” he greeted, rather awkwardly, throwing a glance into your direction. “Hey, (y/n).”

You gave him a little smile and a wave, and Joe grinned widely.

“Trick! Come sit with us!”

The way Patrick shuffled from one foot to the other, his gaze shortly flickering through the room, his fingers too tight around the tablet with his food, made you suddenly think that you had never really seen him with anyone else other than Joe since they had started the band. Actually, as long as you could think back, you had never seen Patrick with friends. Was he as lonely as you were without Joe?

“If that’s okay?”

You did not realise the question was directed at you, until you looked up, and found Patrick looking at you. Suddenly you felt like you had learned a lot more about Patrick, and quickly you nodded.

“Yes, yes, sure! Sit down!”

Much to your relief the conversation did not start revolving around the band immediately, and instead you talked about English Literature Class and about the upcoming Spanish test. Only when the bell rung for the first time, signalling there were only five minutes left until the next lesson, the topic changed.

“So see you tonight?”

The three of you had gotten up, and taken away your tablets, when Patrick eventually brought up the band.

“Yeah sure,” Joe nodded, “we still got so much practicing to do ‘till Saturday.”

“Definitely,” Patrick laughed, “You too?”

“Me too what,” you asked confused.

“Are we seeing you tonight?”

Patrick seemed to have warmed up to you over the past twenty minutes, and you really appreciated it, but shook your head anyway.

“I don’t wanna get in the way,” you explained, and Patrick shrugged.

“Okay, see you!”

And with that he had hurried off into the direction off his next class.

“You’re not in the way, you know,” Joe told you seriously, obviously still thinking about what you had said.

“Oh, I don’t know, I-“ yeah, you what? You did not want to tell Joe that you felt like his friends did not like you very much, that would not have been fair. “I just don’t feel like it. Also, what’s on Saturday?”

Joe furrowed his brows, as if he was considering to further discuss your excuse, but then he decided against it.

“We’re playing our first show, I totally forget to tell you,” he remembered, “you need to come, (y/n), please?”

For a moment you thought about it. You had nothing to do on Saturday, so technically you could go, but then again your parents would have to approve. As if Joe had guessed your worries he continued talking.

“I can drive you home afterwards, that’s absolutely no problem, in case your parents worry,” he hesitated for a moment, “I just really want you there.”

He had stopped in his steps and turned to you, making you stop too.

“I- I’ll think about it,” you answered, taking slightly aback by the last thing he had added.

“Okay, yeah, but… just- I’d be happy to have you there.”

~*~

The dive bar was not very crowded that time of the night, and honestly you were surprised there were even this many people. Most seemed older than you, probably coming here regularly, not knowing about the bands that were going to play.

You had decided not to tell Joe you were showing up, and instead to surprise him. It was confusing, finding your way through the room, since the stage was on ground level, and even though there were not too many other people you still had a hard time making out the stage before being able to make your way over. It seemed like you were just in time, finding a place close to where you assumed Joe would play, when the band walked on.

You could tell how nervous they all were, Patrick fiddling around with his guitar, and Joe not even looking up at you. Pete seemed to recognize you though, because he sent you a big smile, making you think maybe they did not dislike you quite as much as you had always told yourself they would.

The first strum of bass and drums made the room vibrate, and even though you had only been to a few of the rehearsals, you immediately recognised the song. Joe still did not seem to have spotted you, but soon you were too focused on the music. Only when Pete made a short announcement between two songs, while everyone was catching their breaths, Joe finally seemed to spot you. His eyes grew wide as they met yours, and a huge grin spread over his face that did not disappear until the last note rang through the room.

As soon as the band was done playing, they started packing away the stuff they had brought themselves, quickly making space for the next band. Seeing Patrick struggle with his guitar, the cables and the pedalboard he had tried to carry under his arm, you quickly pushed past a few people and took hold of the board. Confused he turned to look at you, but grinned when he saw that it was you, who had come to his rescue.

“You turned up,” he laughed, making his way outside, you following close behind, making sure no cables were pulled out of the pedals you were carrying.

“Wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” you answered, pleasantly surprised his initial stiffness from a few weeks ago seemed to have molten away.

“You really should’ve told Joe though, he wouldn’t shut up about you,” Patrick winked, leading you through a door and outside into a back street, where a couple of cars were parked, one of which apparently belonging to the band, because they started piling their instruments into it.

“It was a surprise,” you told Patrick, putting down the pedalboard in the van, next to where he placed his guitar.

Before Patrick had a chance to answer anything, you were suddenly engulfed in a bear hug from behind, and lifted of your feet. It was strange, because before your brain even had time to panic, you had identified the person already as your best friend, who nuzzled his nose into your neck, carrying you a few steps away from the van.

“You made it, you came,” he cheered before he put you back down to your feet.

You turned around to him, fully intending to make a stupid joke and gently shove him, but before you had time to do so, Joe had taken hold of your face and pulled you in for a kiss that knocked all air out of your lungs. For a moment you were frozen, not fully comprehending what was going on, but once realisation settled in, you relaxed into his touch an leant in, pulling Joe closer to yourself, one of your hands carefully coming to rest on his arm, the other sneaking up to his neck.

Much to your dismay you ran out of air a lot quicker than you liked, and you had to pull away panting, only now feeling the burning blush that was rising on your cheeks. When you looked at Joe, he was blushing too, and both of you giggled happily, making you shake your head slightly.

“I’m really happy you came to see us play,” Joe finally managed to stutter out, making you chuckle.

“Didn’t come to see the band, I came to see you,” you corrected, and watched in amusement how he blushed even more, this time in embarrassment.

“Well, anyway, I mean-“ Joe continued stuttering, fully aware that you were watching him with a fond smile on your face, before you shut him up with a quick kiss on the lips.

“I like you a lot,” you confessed, making him look at you with widened eyes.

“You… I- I was about to say that,” he protested.

You laughed, trying to turn away from him, but he still had his arms wrapped around you, and pulled you back into him.

“Go out with me,” he whispered in your ear, making a shiver run down your spine.

You nodded, but before you were able to answer, Pete interrupted the moment, and made you painfully aware that the others had probably seen every second of your confessions.

“Hey lovebirds, when you’re done, we’d like to get out of the cold and go home. Pizza over at my place, you’re in?”

Joe and you shared a quick glance before you both nodded.

“We’re in,” Joe declared, taking your hand and leading you over to the van.

You climbed inside, taking a seat between Patrick and Joe, who immediately wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side.

Pete took a look at you from through the rear mirror, and grinned a wicked smile.

“Hey (y/n), if you break his heart, I’ll-“

“You’ll break my bones, fair enough,” you laughed.

Pete nodded seriously before looking at Joe.

“Same goes for you mate,” he declared, making everyone laugh.

“Aye, aye, sir,” Joe joked, “and now drive, I want pizza.”