#please somebody give him that seat in indy

[formulaheart]

logan sargeant barely following half the current grid on instagram but he is following franco colapinto and all of the 2025 rookie. he's such a supportive king honestly and I'll love him forever.

[fmufmu]

Somebody else. (M)

[Can you write about enemies to lovers with minsik tysm ❣️]

a/n: unedited, wanted to get something out because i missed you guys and this also does dip at the end. maybe a rewritten ver. at some point!

               Being locked in a cupboard makes for interesting conversations

               Being locked in a closest makes for interesting conversations, or maybe, no conversation at all.

You don’t know why Minsik and yourself don’t get along. You’ve butted heads since you joined h1ghr as a producer. Maybe it’s because you’re polar opposites; Minsik is extroverted and loud and you’re just . . . not. And of course, arguments would bloom and suddenly the studio or the conference room or anywhere that Minsik and you would be becomes a battlefield filled with nasty jabs and petty insults that usually result in you storming out.

The worst part is you both were friends. Not great or close but you were friends and it was nice. Minsik was the first person to make you feel welcome, to take you out for dinner, to listen to your music and critique it. You’d even go as far to say that maybe there was even a spark between you both. That was the first few weeks of working at h1ghr and suddenly now, you can’t even go five minutes without trying to rip into each other like wolves.

               And now, sat across from Kwon Minsik, the bane of your existence of the last few months, you wonder just how long you’re going to be sat in the closet for. The light above you both flickers and you sigh heavily, pulling your legs up to your chest and letting your eyes focus on your sneakers. Your back is leant against the lock door (thanks Jay. Or maybe Haon. Or maybe Junwon. It was one of their stupid ideas.) and Minsik leant against one of the leaning supply racks, pulling at the threads of his jeans. Your eyes catch each other, and you look away quickly, sighing once more.

               “We’ve been sitting here for the last twenty minutes and you’ve sighed at least a hundred times since we’ve been in here.” Your eyes find Minsiks and a smirk falls onto his lips. “You’re having the time of your life, right? Not regretting it at all, right?”

               “I’d prefer to be home right now, thanks.” You say to him, frowning. “Not sat with an arrogant asswipe.”

               “You can talk, y/n.” Minsik snips at you, rolling his eyes as he flicks some dust off the floor. “You’re just as arrogant with your shitty indie beats. I’m surprised you don’t regret it.” A chill pricks down your spine. This is how it starts – with a comment that’s flippant that jabs you in the stomach and fills your stomach with anxiety and annoyance.

               “Regret it? What the fuck? You think you’re better than me?” You say, sitting up properly. “You have two distinct beats and use autotune on your voice. The only thing you need to worry about is when your fifteen minutes of fame will be over.” It starts.

               “My fifteen minutes? What about your fifteen minutes, y/n? You’re just another pretty face, y/n.” Minsik shoots at you, letting out a humourless laugh. Ouch. You’re not just a pretty face, you’re talented. More talented than Kwon Minsik.

               “Eat shit you jack-off.” You say, kicking out your leg and hitting his shin. “You don’t know shit about music and your last album shows it.” You bite down your on your lip and Minsik laughs, kicking your shin back.

               “And your only ep does?” Minsik laughs at you. You’re face goes hot and a flush runs down your body. “Jesus Christ, thank you, y/n for gracing us with an EP consisting of five songs that are, quite literally, shit.” You suck in a deep breath. That’s not true. It’s not true, you tell yourself. Okay sure, you’re EP was slightly rushed, and the collaborations could’ve been better but – but that’s not fair for Minsik to say that.

               “You piece of shit!” You say, raising your voice. No, you won’t let Minsik get under your skin, even if he is right now. You’re better than this. You swallow hard and lower your voice, saying; “Get off your fucking high horse. You don’t know shit about what I do and what I produce.”

               “Right, and you do right?” Minsik leans forward. “I’ll give you a tip y/n, to be successful in this kind of industry, you have to have some talent. Not just good looks.” You hate him. You shaking with anger as tears fill your eyes. Who the fuck was Minsik to speak to you like this?

               “I am talented.” You say, angrily. “I have more talent in one hand than you have in all your body.”

               “You know,” Minsik says. “When Jay told me he’d signed you, I asked if it was a pity thing. Because how can someone so fucking untalented get into a company like this?” You sit back, stunned. “I thought maybe you were blackmailing Jay –,”

               “ – how fucking dare you –,”

               “ – or maybe you’re family is rich, and this is how you got to be where you are –,”

               “ – you fucking –,” Your fists are balled up completely by this time as you stumble to your feet. “How fucking dare you even think that I fucked anyone to get where I am! I worked hard for this position! I worked my ass off in college and now!” You’re not going to cry. You’re not going to let Minsk’s words, words that you read each and every day when you see articles about yourself, affect you. He was only saying this to get a rise out of you.

               “Am I fucking wrong!” Minsik stands up. “Because from where I’m standing, I’m fucking right! And everyone else seems to think so! Don’t regret things you do, y/n, it’ll make us all look bad.” Regret things? The only thing you regret is ever thinking that Kwon Minsik wasn’t a complete jerk-off.

               “The only reason you’re famous is because you’re hot!” You yell at him. “That’s the only reason you’re where you are! Without your looks, you’d be a nobody living in a semi-basement. You’re nothing in the grand scheme of things! All you do is write shitty songs about your ex who you cheated on looking for sympathy so – so drop dead!” You clap your hand over your mouth as your eyes go wide.

Minsik visibly flinches at your words, letting out a scoff.

“Right.” Minsik says, shaking his head.

“I didn’t . . . I didn’t –,”

“ – you meant it.” Minsik says, “Every word. Fuck you, y/n.” If you weren’t angry before, you sure as hell is now. You’re positively radiating with anger, fists clenched, and your throat filled with a million and one things to say.

“You’re not allowed to get mad at me when you’re the one always coming for me!” You blare out, furious. It happens too fast, the way you can’t help how you shove Minsik back against one of the shelves. “You call me cheap, worthless, talentless!” Tears fall from your eyes and the hits against his chest slowly stop. “And suddenly I say something you’re acting like this!” Your hands push against his chest.

“Y/n . . .” You wipe your face, shaking you head as Minsiks face turns to something you’ve never seen before: guilt. He looks guilty like he never considered that you had feelings before right now.

“No.” You sob, looking away from him. “You deserve this.” You turn your head back to Minsik. “You deserve everything that ever happens to you because you’re the biggest piece of shit. I worked hard to get where I am and -  and –, ” Minsik hugs you. He takes a step and envelopes you with both arms, your head pressed into his t-shirt. Kwon Minsik, the guy who’s never liked you for months, hugs you. You both don’t say anything. You don’t move. The light turns off and leaves you both in the dark.

“Remember the company party when you first ever joined?” Minsik says, into the darkness. “You got pretty drunk and you told me you thought I was cute. I remember I was about to come into the studio, and I overheard you say that you regretted what you said, and I was hurt. I didn’t want you to regret it.” You don’t speak. You move your arms slowly, letting them hang around his waist.

“Oh.” You remember that night. You remember being nervous and drinking too much. You remember the club, the comfortable seats, the bass the boomed underneath your feet, the taste of champagne in your mouth and how the shots were getting easier and easier to digest.  “Minsik.”

“I’ve never seen you cry before.” Minsik says. You can’t see his face in the dark as you pull away. “I didn’t . . .I went too far, right?” You let out a small chuckle.

“Yeah, just a little.” You bite your lip. “I wasn’t too nice either.” Minsik is still close, his arms are holding your waist, unmoving. It feels nice, something you never think you’d associate with Minsik. What the hell is going on right now?

“What now?” You can feel his breath fanning against your face. “What now, y/n. Where do we go from here?” You’re not thinking straight. With all the crying and yelling, you’re not thinking straight. Minsiks hand against your face is soft and you’re not prepared to feel his forehead against yours.

“I don’t . . . I don’t know.”

“You won’t regret this, right?” Then Minsik is kissing you. Softly with his lips pressing against yours and as he pulls away, you grab his face and blindly kiss back harder. Your stomach flips a million and one times as your hands hold his face, moving to his neck. It’s a frenzy, you’re quickly pressed against the door. Minsiks’ body pressed against yours the best feeling in the world as he holds you tightly. His leg moves between your legs and you’re quick to pull away, breathless, foreheads touching.

“Minsik . . .”

It’s not until the door swings open and Minsik and you stumble out into the hallway with Woojae looking shocked. You’re just as shocked, the last forty-five minutes, too much has happened. You look between Minsik and Woojae and push away yourself from Minsik with a nervous laugh, smoothing down your t-shirt. You don’t know what happened right now. You’re – Minsik and you? You’re supposed to hate him. You are.

“Uh.” Woojae says, blinking between you both. “Jay told me to let you out.” Minsik looks sheepish.

“Thanks.”

“Kinda seems like you both were busy.” Woojae says, eyeing between you both. You’ve never wanted the ground to open up and swallow you whole completely.

“Can you give us a minute, please?” Minsik asks.

“Happily.” Woojae moves like the speed of lighting down the hallway, shaking his head. You turn back to Minsik who looks at you, almost shyly. You suddenly feel just as shy as him. A moment passes as you stare at him.

“So.”

“So.” Minsik says back. “Can I – let me make the last few months up to over some coffee?”

“That – us kissing was an expectation.” You say, biting your lip. “It – it was nice, but we have, you know, we have time to make up on. Because you did hurt my feelings. And I know I hurt yours as well.” Minsiks’ hand finds your and they tangle together, your heart skips a beat.

“Baby steps.” Minsik says. “Maybe coffee?”

“Coffee is a good start.”

[let-me-write-shit]

Somebody To You: 12

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Word Count: 4,361

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CHAPTER TWELVE:

It was the first gray day in over a month. It hasn’t rained in LA since Jess’s birthday and the anniversary of her death. Zoey sat outside on the balcony with Binx on her lap, letting the gentle breeze nip at her skin. She always found it so peaceful right before a storm. She looked out at all of the car lights going up and down the surrounding streets - they looked like ants from the twenty-second floor. 

She could hear the laughter from Brett and Nancy inside making fun of a horribly cast Indie movie and grinned, glad to have such great friends. She should have been inside getting ready for her date, but it was too calming out here to do that. She’d rather stay out here, listening to the palm trees rustle, the cars rush by, and the cat purr. She felt her phone buzz and she turned it over to see Harry trying to facetime her. Like Zoey, he had the day off today. He was in Arizona now, so they were in the same time zone, at least. She answered the call and held the phone at a better angle. Soon, Harry’s face came into view, swallowing a large bite of something.

“Are you eating dinner?” Zoey asked.

Harry panned down to show her his plate of pasta, “Room service,” he said.

“Nice. What’s going on? Bored?”

“Was supposed to head out in a few but my friends are stuck in traffic so I thought I’d call and see what’s up.”

“You have friends?” Zoey asked sarcastically, earning the middle finger from Harry as he took another huge bite of his pasta. She continued, “Nothing. Just sitting outside with Binx, waiting for tonight.”

“What’s tonight?”

“I’ve got a date.” Harry’s eyebrow raised suspiciously when Zoey quickly added, “It’s not with Brett. Although, he is here.”

“At your place? Is he with Rory?”

Zoey rolled her eyes, “No, Rory’s still working. He’s with Nancy. Would you chill? Nothing is going on between them.”

“It didn’t look like nothing,” Harry countered.

Zoey groaned, “You of all people should know that paparazzi pictures aren’t always what they seem. I told you I was with them that day, would you relax, you big baby? We talked about this.”

He sighed, putting his fork down and wiping the corners of his mouth with a napkin, “I know. But I can’t help that I get jealous. It fucked me up.”

After their outing a few weeks ago, paparazzi had caught a picture of Aurora and Brett laughing together walking through the downtown area, of course cropping Zoey and Andy out of the background. She was obviously big news because she was newly famous, but also because of her recent connection with Harry, so people began speculating when they saw her out and about with a new hunky man. Brett ate that shit up like a cake, but Rory seemed a bit flustered by it. And Harry. He saw the pictures before any of them did. Well, that was all he needed to put his ass in gear. 

At first, he was mad, calling Zoey while she was at work and interrogating her about the situation, freaking out. “I thought he was your boyfriend? I knew something was up with him! Why is Rory with him? Why didn’t you tell me?” He made an absolute ass out of himself. She’d never heard him so upset before. And Zoey felt bad, but she had to shut that shit down, telling him that if Rory was with someone, it wasn’t his concern since Rory isn’t technically his girlfriend and reminding him that Brett was not her boyfriend and she had no control over what another person says or does. Brett has been nothing but kind to everyone there and Harry didn’t need to drag other people down because of his own insecurities. 

It was a long conversation and Harry really got his ass handed to him. He promptly apologized to Zoey and even sent her a bouquet of flowers for it, which was sweet. Although, Rory got an even bigger bouquet and a box of chocolate-covered strawberries after the conversation the two of them had with each other. Harry didn’t go into specifics with Zoey, but he did hint that he thought everything would be fine and they had an understanding. Still, it’s been a few weeks since this all went down and Harry still brought it up, his insecurities unwavering.

“Well, it wasn’t a date. They were literally just walking. Andy and I were right behind them. Besides, even if it was a date, she warned you that she wouldn’t wait forever. She told you that back in May. Your tour is over in less than two weeks. You’ve had months to give her an answer. Did you yet?”

“No,” Harry admitted. As soon as he saw the annoyance in Zoey’s eyes he hurriedly continued, “But I know what I want now. And I’m going to tell her. But I want to tell her in person. Or ask her in person, I guess.”

Zoey’s eyes widened, lighting up a bit, “You’re finally going to ask her out?”

“Well, my last show is in Portland the Friday after next and I was going to head back home to London on Sunday, but I was thinking about making a stop there before I go. Maybe surprise her. I’m not sure yet. I might get too impatient and just do it over Facetime if I can’t get a flight there right after the concert.”

Zoey grinned excitedly, “That’s really sweet, H. I’m happy for you.”

Harry blushed, smiling, “Thanks. Hopefully she’ll say yes.”

“Well you’re not proposing, and I know she really likes you, so I’m sure she will. I mean, you’re basically dating as it is. You two are still good, right?”

“I think so. I mean, we haven’t talked a ton because we’re just on opposite schedules right now, but when we do talk it seems alright.”

“Good. Then you have nothing to worry about,” Zoey grinned.

They talked for a bit more, but as the time neared her having to leave she decided to hang up and start getting ready. The restaurant her date was taking her to was pretty nice, so she dressed up in a shin-length, long sleeve sleek black dress with a bit of a shoulder and a slit going up the side, some pointed black heels, and put her dirty blonde hair in a low bun with strands dangling to frame her face. When she stepped out to say goodbye to Nancy and Brett, they both looked her up and down, Nancy letting out hollers and Brett whistling. 

“You look hot!” Nancy yelped as Brett shook his head in awe.

“This guy better watch it! I don’t know if he can handle you. Trust me. I’d know,” he winked.

Zoey shook her head, laughing and heading towards the door, “Bye guys. Be on standby in case I need a quick out!” she called, grabbing her keys and heading to her car. She never liked to be picked up on a first date. She always drove herself and met her date at the location.

Meanwhile, Mitch and Adam had finally gotten back from their trip to town. Normally Harry made it a point not to drink during the tour, but he made an exception tonight. They had off for three days and a bunch of people from the tour was going out, so why not? Besides, it was a Tuesday night. It wouldn’t be too crazy.

So, with rings on his fingers, layered necklaces, a brown shirt, navy trousers, and a lime green blazer, Harry headed out to the bars with his friends. They had filled a good portion of the bar in town, and he quickly became friendly with the owner, taking pictures and making a quick video for his daughter at home while making the rounds to the members of staff and getting drinks for everyone. 

Drink after drink the weight on his shoulders began to lessen and he felt looser, eyes more bloodshot, and making more jokes. His spotted Mitch and Adam on the couch in the corner and made his way over, plopping on the edge of the seat next and flinging an arm around Adam.

“You guys having a good time?” Harry slurred a bit.

“Yeah, man, this is great,” Harry nodded.

“Looks like you're having a good time,” Mitch smirked. 

“I’m great!” Harry announced, looking out at everyone smiling and laughing and having a good time. He frowned a bit, “Tour’s almost over. A week and a half left.”

“What are you gonna do when it’s done? Start recording?”

“Eventually,” Harry nodded, “I’m gonna go back to London and see some family for a bit. I think I’m going to stop back in LA first, though.”

“What, to see Zoey?” Mitch teased earning a little chuckle from Adam.

“Nooo,” Harry exaggerated, head wobbling as the drinks kicked in more, “To see Rory. I’m going to ask her out.”

Both Mitch and Adam’s eyes widened and they simply said, “Oh.”

“I didn’t even know you still talked to her,” Adam confessed, “Well, congrats, man.”

“Did you tell Zoey yet?” Mitch asked.

Harry nodded, taking another sip of his drink, “Yeah, I was just on the phone with her before you got back and told her. Why?”

Mitch shrugged, “I don’t know, just curious what she said about it.”

Harry’s eyebrows furrowed, “She’s happy about it. She’s friends with Rory, too. She’s my best friend, dude. We don’t like each other.”

Mitch nodded and Adam asked, “So when do we get to meet her? Is she going to come to the last concert or something? Maybe visit us in London?”

Harry shook his head, slurring some more, “No, she’s got work that day and she never calls off. And she’s never been out of the country yet. I don’t know. I’m sure you’ll meet her one day. She’s cool, you’ll like her. It’s like once you start talking to her you can’t stop. Like she never runs out of things to say. Not in an annoying way, it’s like there’s never an awkward silence, you know? You’ll see.” Adam and Mitch shared a look before changing the subject.

The second she got to the restaurant it began to drizzle. She made it just in time. Her date was a patron she met at the bar named Eric. He was older than her by about six years but was always very friendly when he came in. He was very clearly an important businessman, as were most people that came into her work, not that she really cared about that. She found most wealthier businessmen were typically creeps or jerks or some combination of the two, so Eric seemed like a breath of fresh air. He always dressed in the nicest suits and had his hair perfectly styled, sporting a different expensive watch each day.

He stood from his seat when he saw her walking in and gave her a friendly hug, kissing her cheek before she sat opposite of him. Nice restaurants always had the worst lighting. She could hardly see anything in the dim lighting, the candle in between them illuminated upwards, casting quite creepy shadows on Eric’s face. 

He smiled and practically growled, “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” she grinned, brushing the hair away from her eyes.

“I’ve already placed an order for you, I hope that’s okay. I remember you saying you liked salmon and this place really has the best.”

“Oh, great, thanks,” she grinned, taking a sip of water. Zoey hated when people ordered for her. She knew he meant well, and at least it wasn’t just a salad, but he couldn’t have waited for her to look at the menu first? What if she wasn’t in the mood for salmon. She put the glass down, “Thanks for doing this on a Tuesday. I know I’ve got a really strange schedule.”

“It’s not a problem. I’d have done any day of the week if it meant I got to have dinner with you.”

The line might have worked, but it sounded weird coming from his mouth. Eric seemed different when he was alone compared to when he was surrounded by colleagues at her bar. Even with his cheesy pickup lines, he seemed less confident here. Shyer. More out of his comfort zone. 

Still, she smiled politely and continued the conversation, “So, why are you single? LA’s got a lot of pickings. Not a great dating scene? You know I’m fairly new here so I’m just getting the hang of it.”

Eric swallowed, nodding a bit, “Well, truth be told I’m not too sure myself. I just got out of a pretty long relationship, so I’m new to the dating scene, too.”

“Really? How long were you two together?”

“About nine years.”

“Nine years? Wow, that’s a long time.”

He nodded, “Yeah, it was pretty rough. We were actually set to get married this month before she broke it off.’

“Oh, I’m so sorry!”

She listened to him talk more about his ex. He talked so much that he barely ate a bite of food when their dinners were brought out. And the more he talked, the more emotional he seemed to get. By the time she had finished her salmon, he was practically in tears. The conversation turned more to a therapy session and ended with her trying to convince him of his worth. That, even though she’s sure his ex was a lovely girl for someone, no girl is worth losing sleep over if they’re not as equally invested into the relationship as their partner. And by the time they were getting ready to leave, Eric seemed more happy and confident than she had ever seen him.

Eric laughed as they stood up and headed for the door, “Sorry about all that. I guess I’m still not exactly over it.”

Zoey waved him off, “Don’t apologize. I completely understand.”

When they got into the landing of the restaurant they peered outside at the downpour of rain. The roadways looked like streams and the streetlights reflected against the water, making it look like it sparkled against the night sky. 

“Ready to make a run for it?” Eric asked, holding onto the door handle.

When Zoey nodded, he pushed the door open and they ran, cold water splashing up against her leg with each step, shielding her eyes as the rain pelted against them. When they made it to the parking garage, soaked, he shook the water off his arms and groaned, “I’ll need to get this suit to the cleaners now.” He looked down at Zoey and smiled, moving a strand of hair that had been slicked down with water on her forehead to the side of her face, “Thank you. For tonight.”

“Goodluck, Eric,” she smiled kindly at him, kissing his cheek before getting in her car. She gave him a little wave as she pulled out and drove away.

Zoey drove home in silence, reflecting on the date. She felt bad for him, truly. But what was it with men pining for women who they treated poorly? Why was it so hard for men to see what they had when they had it and not when it was too late? What a waste of a date. She was really looking forward to this one, too.

By the time she pulled into her condo’s parking garage, it was a little past midnight. Her dress was disgustingly damp and clung to her skin like plastic wrap and her heels squeaked with every step she took. Once in the lobby, Zoey bent down to undo the straps on her heels and pulled them off, letting her bare feet on the cold marble floor. She carried her heels in one hand and headed towards the elevator, pressing the button. When the elevator finally reached the ground floor and the doors opened, she was surprised to see Brett heading out.  

He laughed when he saw her, “Was your date outside? You're soaked.”

She smiled, happy to see a familiar, emotionally available man after that horrible date, “I’m cold, too.”

“Where’s your date? Couldn’t handle you?”

“Something like that,” she grinned, “Are you leaving?”

“Yeah, Nancy went to bed.”

“And Rory’s not back yet?”

“Nope, not yet.”

Zoey thought for a moment before stepping a bit closer to him, “Well...you can stay if you want?” 

Brett thought for a moment, looking her up and down before backing up a bit, “I’m...uh...actually getting a bit tired. Raincheck?”

“Oh, yeah. No problem,” Zoey stammered, getting red in the cheeks, “I should take a shower anyway. Get out of this wetsuit of a dress.”

She frowned a bit, looking into his eyes. It might not seem like that big of a deal, but she and Brett haven’t had sex in a week. He’d had every opportunity and hint thrown his way, but it either went right over his head or he made an excuse. He’d been on the phone a lot more at work recently and knew that he had gone on a date with that redheaded waitress from the restaurant they went to a few weeks ago, so she assumed things had gotten serious between the two, but couldn’t he have just told her that?

He nodded and smiled a tight grin and she watched as he headed towards the door. Before he could even pull it open, Aurora walked through, colliding into him.

“Oh, hey!” She chirped, looking up to see both Brett and Zoey standing there. “You leaving?” she asked Brett.

He nodded, muttering, “Yeah. I’m tired.”

“Okay. See you later,” she said, heading over towards Zoey. 

The two girls got onto the elevator and Rory took a long look at her roommate, “Did you get stuck in the rain?” she asked.

Zoey nodded, motioning to herself, “This happened in less than three seconds.”

“I like your outfit. Why all dressed up?”

She wiped some water that was dripping down her forehead from her hair and said, “I had a date tonight.”

“Oh, with Brett?”

“No, some guy I met at work. Let’s just say there won’t be a second date,” Rory laughed as the elevator doors opened on their floor and they stepped out. Zoey continued as she punched in the code to get into their apartment, “You going to bed?”

Rory nodded, exasperatedly sighing, “Yeah, I’m exhausted. I’ll see you in the morning.”

They split up when they got inside, Rory going to her bedroom while Zoey went into hers. She stared at herself in the mirror and gasped. Streaks of mascara running down her cheeks from the rain, and her baby hairs starting to curl from the dampness. She did her best to wipe the makeup off, but there were still some residuals left. Really, she should be taking a shower right now, but she wasn’t in the mood. She couldn’t stop thinking about Eric and how much he missed his ex. It reminded him of Michael and how desperately he tried to hold onto her before she left.

She picked up her phone and searched through her contacts, finding the one she wanted, pressing the button for FaceTime call. Within seconds, the screen widened and Harry’s face popped up.

“Hello!” He sang, grinning, the picture shaking a bit as he was unsteady, clearly walking.

“Hey, are you busy?”

“Nope, I’m actually just getting back to the hotel now. What’s up?” he asked, dropping a set of keys, his wallet, and a few other knick-knacks on the desk before stumbling and plopping on the bed and taking a look at her. He blew out a chuckle, “What happened to you?”

She grinned, “It was raining.”

“How was your date?” 

She extended her camera out further and spun, panning the room, “Do you say anyone here with me?”

Harry smiled, “Bad, huh? You look lovely, though.”

“Thanks. Aside from the makeup running down my face and my hair a frizzy mess,” she groaned, wiping more water from her forehead, “I had to comfort this man so he wouldn’t cry about his ex-girlfriend.”

Harry winced, slurring, “At least you got a free meal out of it. That sounds really good right now. I should order room service,” he sat up, scanning his room, “should I get dessert or a meal? Or both?” he asked himself.

Zoey laughed, amused, “Are you drunk?”

He whipped his head at the phone, “No! I’m buzzed.”

She shook her head, “I should get a glass of wine and get buzzed, too.”

“The boys were asking about you tonight,” he said abruptly.

“The boys? Who are the boys and are they single?”

“Mitch and Adam. They’re in my band, and no, they’re not single,” Harry rolled his eyes, making Zoey sarcastically groan, “They were wondering when they were going to meet you.”

Zoey furrowed her eyes in confusion. Harry never really talked about his other friends with her. Obviously she knew he had other friends, but he figured that they were in such a different circle than her that they just never came up in conversation and Zoey just assumed that it would have been the same situation in his other friend groups where he didn’t talk about her. So to hear that they not only knew about her but were interested in meeting her was news.

“Oh, so you’re saying you talk about me?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, yeah, you’re my best friend,” he said.

Zoey paused, seeing the look in Harry’s face. There wasn’t a hint of sarcasm in his voice. He was serious. She felt her heart melt at those words. He’d been the one person she’d met since Jess died that she felt like she could be 100% herself around no matter the circumstance. She never had to censor herself in fear of hurting his feelings or saying the wrong thing, and vice versa. Zoey always considered Harry to be one of her best friends, too, but she never said anything in fear of him not feeling the same way considering how many friends he had. But to hear the words come out of his mouth was a reassurance she never knew she needed.

“I’m your best friend?” she repeated.

Harry’s eyes widened, sobering up quickly at the realization of what he just revealed. He cleared his throat, “Sorry, was that awkward?”

She shook her head, “No, it’s not awkward, H. We talk every day about literally the most disgusting things. You couldn’t make me feel awkward. I just didn’t know you considered me one of your best friends, so that’s nice to hear.”

“Are you going to tell me I’m your best friend, too, or is this going to be that heart-wrenching situation where your best friend has a different best friend than you? Because don’t do that to me,” Harry joked.

Zoey laughed, “You’re a close second behind Binx.”

“The cat outranks me?” He gasped, before nodding understandably, “I get it.”

She shook her head, pursing her lips, “Ew, who would have thought that your best friend would be some rando from Pennsylvania?”

He grinned, “It doesn’t matter where you’re from. I was just talking to Mitch about this the other day. And I don’t want you to read into it, because it’s not that serious, but I honestly feel like you’re my soulmate. In a completely non-creepy way. Don’t laugh, I’m trying to be honest,” Harry flushed, embarrassed. Zoey bit her lips before waving, continuing him along, but finding it hard to hide her smile. He spoke again, “I just can’t imagine not having you in my life. Like, you’re the one person I can go to about anything at the end of the day and feel better about everything, you know? You keep me from going insane and I love you.”

After a moment of silence, Zoey smirked and jokingly said, “...Oh my god, are we about to kiss?”

“Shut up!” Harry laughed, “I’m serious.”

“I love you too, H.” she giggled, putting her chin in her hand, “You’re my best friend and I’m grateful for you every day. You saved me.” She got more serious, “ I don’t know what I would have done if you weren’t here and I don’t think I thank you enough for that.”

He shook his head, “You do. You thank me every day by just existing.” They smiled at each other for a moment before Harry spoke again, “Alright, yuck. We’re done with the mushy shit now. Let’s get back to talking shit about your date.”

The conversation continued as if nothing had happened, but both parties now had a deep sense of profound consideration for each other. She loved that stupid, annoying boy. Not like a lover, not like a brother or a family member or a friend, she just simply loved him beyond all sense of meaning. She loved his existence and his entire being and he loved her as well. She was his person.

“Did Rory ever get back home?” Harry asked.

Zoey nodded, “She walked in like four seconds after me. She went right to be, though.”

“I’m getting nervous about asking her out, now.”

Zoey rolled her eyes, chuckling, “Shut up, you know she’ll say yes. She’s been waiting this long. Why wouldn’t she?”

He didn’t know. He just had a weird feeling that something wrong was going to happen. He couldn’t shake it. Just as he was about to speak her hard a loud crack. Zoey’s room went dark, causing her to shriek.

“You okay?” he asked, sitting up straight.

“The power just went out,” she said, looking out of her window at the raging storm. It didn’t seem to affect any other building, just hers. A minute later there was another, deeper, cracking noise and what sounded to be a rush of water. “What the hell was that?” she asked, walking towards her door, and she gasped, loudly, “Oh my fucking god! Water! My room is flooding.”

KEEP READING

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

Taglist:

@thurhomish​ @stilljosiegrossie​

[dr-archeville]

INDY Daily: It Shouldn't Be This Hard to Give People $2,000

Everything you need to know this morning

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It’s Wednesday, December 30.

Hey y’all,

The days between Christmas and New Years are always a little lazy for most people. There are leftovers to eat, days off in the extremely near future, and with the pandemic collapsing many folks’ dividing lines between work time and home time, it’s pretty easy to just operate at half-speed. For me, that means I’m relaxing when I’m not doing this newsletter, so I’m really more at half-time this week rather than half-speed, because the news certainly isn’t kinda-sorta taking the week off.

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I Want $2,000

Not from y’all, obviously. (Although if you’d like to support the INDY, please sign up for the INDY Press Club). But I would definitely like the government to give me $2,000, and for a brief window this week, it seemed like that was going to happen.

Over the weekend, Donald Trump claimed that he signed the newest economic stimulus bill, which contains direct payments to Americans for up to $600, on the condition that Congress would consider raising those direct payments to $2,000 as well as beef up the bill’s $300 increase in unemployment benefits. He also claimed that because he signed the bill, Congress would look into voter fraud and do something about how your conservative uncle is convinced that Twitter is hiding Rudy Giuliani’s Twitter posts from him.

Because it was Donald Trump saying these things, I assumed that he was just making this stuff up for the hell of it, but then on Monday, Democrats and a few dozen Republicans in the House of Representatives actually passed legislation following through on increasing direct payments.

Then yesterday, Mitch McConnell, the undead Senate Majority Leader from Kentucky, blocked a vote on the $2,000 checks by deploying some underhanded procedural trick. Bernie Sanders, who is Bernie Sanders, attempted to do some sort of procedural trick of his own in order to force the vote, but because Mitch McConnell has access to the Dark Side of the Force, McConnell’s procedural trick won out over Bernie’s. (For now.)

It’s likely that McConnell didn’t let things get to a vote in the Senate because the $2,000 checks measure would have passed. Though the Democrats only have 48 seats in the Senate, enough Republican Senators — including Marco Rubio of Florida, Josh Hawley of Mississippi, and Lindsey Graham of South Carolina — also supported the idea of raising stimulus payments that McConnell, who does not supported the increased payments, would have been unable to marshal enough Republican votes to stop it.

McConnell’s gambit, essentially, is this: He doesn’t want to see everyone get $2,000, and so he’s saying that the Senate needs to bundle the checks with a repeal of an internet freedom measure and an investigation into 2020’s nonexistent voter fraud epidemic. Which is, of course, a way for him to make the direct payments bill so toxic that no one would vote for it.

In an interview yesterday with CNN, Bernie Sanders articulated what seems to be the Democrats’ position, as well as the position that should be the baseline for all rational people. "As somebody who disagrees with Trump on everything, I gotta say he’s right on the need for this $2,000 check, and I hope the Republican leadership listens to him," he said, continuing, "Do you think that all over America, people are saying, ‘My God, we have to repeal Section 230 of the 1996 Telecommunication Act! My God, that is a major national priority!’? Nobody even knows what that is! And the other thing, about voter fraud — Trump keeps saying he won the election. Nobody in their right mind believes that. He lost the election. We can separate those issues."

This entire affair, to me, reveals how uneasy the alliance between Donald Trump and the traditional G.O.P. always has been. While both parties have been united by a shared sense of grievance and a sincere love of making Democrats mad, Trump’s instincts have always trended in a more populist direction than the old guard. This isn’t because Trump is secretly a social Democrat or anything, it’s more because he represents a sense among some conservative thinkers that a great way of defining a nationalistic "us" vs. a non-American "them" is to give "us" free stuff while depriving "them" of it.

I’m not saying that Trump is up on the latest in conservative intellectual thought or anything — it doesn’t exactly take a genius to realize that "let’s give free money" is a popular political position, especially in a recession — but this is a stance among the G.O.P. that politicians such as Josh Hawley and Marco Rubio are explicitly trying to cultivate. If America’s two-party system weren’t so deeply entrenched, this wing of the G.O.P. might break off and form its own party, but instead, these guys will just end up fighting the Tea Party, old-school conservatives, and libertarian-leaning Republicans for control of the party for the next few years.

Meanwhile, McConnell going against Trump can also be seen as a test of Trump’s control over the Republican Party once he’s out of power. Unlike pretty much every other Republican, Donald Trump has a base of people who truly love him, and despite his loss to Joe Biden, the 74 million-ish votes that Trump earned in 2020 helped push lots and lots of Republicans over the finish line — including, to a degree, Thom Tillis in North Carolina.

For now, it seems, Trump still has plenty of power to trap Republican politicians in his tractor beam: Georgia Senators Kelly Loeffler and David Perdue, both of whom are on the ballot in tomorrow’s special election in the state, both sided with Trump on increasing payments. Will their support for the measure help their chances with Trump supporters tomorrow, or will it lose them votes among the state’s voters for whom fiscal conservatism is paramount?

The answer, of course, is that we’ll find out soon, and also that getting a free $2,000 is exactly $1,400 better than getting a free $600. If only the Republicans who supported giving everyone that $2,000 wanted to do so for the right reasons.

Statewide COVID-19 by the numbers: Tuesday, December 29

3,563 New lab-confirmed new cases (524,279 total; seven-day average trending down)

18,846 Completed tests (6.8 million total; most recent positive rate was 13.5 percent)

3,377 Current hospitalizations reported (seven-day average trending up; 6,574 total deaths)  

63,571 Total vaccinated (First dose only; state data updated Tuesdays)

Quick Hits

Learn how Chapel Hill plans to protect renters now that Gov. Cooper’s eviction moratorium has been extended. [Chapelboro]

If your North Carolina license plate is more than seven years old, you’re going to be getting a new one the next time you register your car. [WRAL]

The new, scary variation of the coronavirus has shown up in Colorado. [Axios]

Everything is horrible right now, but at least Professor Mohamed Noor, the dean of natural sciences at Duke University, has realized his dream of becoming a science consultant on Star Trek: Discovery. I loved Star Trek when I was a kid, and knowing that someone from the Triangle is helping make it scientifically realistic makes me want to check the new series out. [Durham Herald-Sun]

Today’s weather: Cloudy and humid all day, with chances of rain increasing into the evening. High of 48, low of 41.

Song of the day: "New York Groove" by Ace Frehley When the members of the band KISS made the insane decision to put out four solo albums simultaneously in 1978, no one expected that the best of the bunch would be from guitarist Ace Frehley, whose record included this Hello cover that, by my calculations, is the most fun song ever made.

— Drew Millard — Send me an email | Find me on Twitter

If you’d like to advertise your business to the Daily's 33,000-plus subscribers, please contact John Hurld at jhurld@indyweek.com.

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[lavenderslemonade]

Iida X Reader - Horror Movie Date Night

There is no request page, so if you have a request please message me! I am open for smut also!

“Now remember (y/n), it’s nothing but special effects and a made-up story, thus there is no reason to fear!” Iida stated as he held up three horror movies you had brought over. “I know.” You replied as you stuffed your mouth with more popcorn. “Alright, they’re nothing but people in make-up, costumes, and really good effects!” Iida quickly turned to the television and inserted one of the discs. “Iida, sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself not to get scared.” You smirked as you took a sip of the tea that had been fixed earlier.

He looked at you as if you had just offended him and everything he stood for. “I am not scared! Hero’s don’t get scared!” He puffed up proudly, which made you stare in amusement. “Huh, okay, well come sit down.” You patted the empty spot on the couch signaling him to come join you. Once he came over and sat, you placed the bowl in his hands before getting up to turn the lights off. “W-what are you doing?” He asked with a hint of fear in his voice. You turned your head slightly and gave a sly smile “Turning the lights off.” You flicked the switch.

“A-are you sure that’s such a good idea? What if you have to use the restroom and trip as you stand?! You can’t see where you’re going.” Iida claimed as you watched his grip tighten on the bowl of popcorn. “I’ll manage.” A small sadistic smile crept onto your face. Walking back over you took the remote from the coffee table and hit play before taking your seat. You leaned against your boyfriend and reached your hand into the bowl of popcorn on his lap. He jumped slightly as he felt your hand brush against his and due to this you gave a low chuckle. “A little jumpy aren’t you Tenya? The movie hasn’t even started.” You spoke as you placed a few pieces of popcorn in your mouth.

His cheeks turned a dark red as he pushed up his glasses. “I’m not jumpy, just the touch from your hand was really unexpected.” He rambled as he ate a few pieces of popcorn himself. “Uh-huh.” You chuckled lowly as you watched the opening credits. You knew that horror movies were torture for your boyfriend of six months, but damn was it fun to watch the class rep get all jumpy due to jump scares, and paranoid when the music picked up. Was it cruel for you to do this to your boyfriend? Most definitely. Were you going to beat yourself up over it? Certainly not.

This was due to the fact that, whenever Tenya asked what you wanted to watch as an indoor date night movie, he knew you would pick horror no matter thus he opened up pandora’s box to your world of R-rated blood and gore. Oh, you still remember the first time he suggested a indoor movie date night. It was Valentine’s day, and since his parents were out on a date, he had thought it would be cute to have an indoor date while they were away. Thus, he allowed you to pick out any movie you wanted as he ordered take out. Due to this, you had chosen a gory and graphic Valentines themed movie. You believed it to be perfectly fine, meanwhile your boyfriend held onto you in fear. However, in the end he tried to cover it up with the excuses of “You looked cold.” “I held you since you seemed a bit frightened.” And your favorite of all “You need a hero to protect you.” He had stated as if the killer from the movie was going to jump out of the television to try and attack you. Due to these “romantic” gestures, you decided to make him feel in a way, manly, thinking he was protecting you and comforting you through such horrific scenes.

That’s why you decided that whenever Tenya suggested an indoor movie date, you always brought your best horror movies from your large collection. Be it American, Indie, or Japanese you had a vast amount of horror movies that you loved sharing with your boyfriend. It surprised you when you’d suggest he choose a movie instead, and he always picked a horror movie as if stating that indoor movie date night was indoor horror movie date night. Honestly, it made you smile. He was willing to put his on sanity and pride on the line for one to two hours, just to make you smile.

However, your train of thought was broken as Tenya jumped slightly nearly nocking the bowl of popcorn out of his lap. “You okay Iida?” You asked curiously as you turned your attention to the screen. A man had just gotten a spear to the chest and was being dragged away by the killer to an unknown location. “H-haha, yes I’m perfectly fine (y/n). You looked a little preoccupied, so I decided to give you a fright…Did it work?” He asked trying to play off his fear as he recovered from his scare. You blinked in a bit of surprise. “Was I really out for that long?” You thought to yourself. You gave your attention back to Iida and simply smiled. “Terrified.” You replied leaning against him.

Both your attention was turned back to the television in front of you as you watched the murderer chase one of the few females left through the woods with an ax in hand. Just as the girl fell, and the murderer prepared to make the killing blow the television shut off. “Hmm? Did you get too scared?” You asked your boyfriend curiously looking to see if he was holding the remote. To your surprise he wasn’t. Instead he reached over to grab it off the coffee table in front of him and started pressing the power button with no luck. “Did the power get knocked out?” You wondered out loud as you got up, being cautious off anything on the floor, and made your way over to the light switch. You flicked the switch multiple times but was still left in the dark.

“Maybe we should check the breakers?” Tenya suggested as he placed the bowl of popcorn on the table and stood up. You gave a quick nod before making your way over to him. He took your hand in his as he led you out of the living room and into the main hall, so you wouldn’t bump into anything. The two of you tried feeling around so you wouldn’t run into anything, however Tenya had hit at least three side tables, and you had run into him at least twice, though you’re not counting how many times you’ve stepped on the back of his foot due to being so close. Once he finally found the kitchen, he led you around the table and over to another door that led to the basement. He slowly opened the door and peeked inside. “Alright, now stay close, and try not to fall.” He instructed as he took a step down, but you quickly stopped him. “W-wait! What if there’s somebody down there?” You shuddered as you peered into the cold dark basement. Tenya stared at you with a bit of surprise before giving a small reassuring laugh. “There’s nothing to worry about, just pretend your in one of those horror movies.” He suggested, which honestly did not make you feel any better.

“Truthfully, that sounds horrible. Just because I enjoy horror, doesn’t mean I want to be a first-hand witness and play a part in it.” You grumbled as you finally allowed the young teen to lead you down the steps. He held onto you tightly, and for extra precaution you held a death grip onto the hand rail. Once safely at the bottom, the two of you split up to try and search for the power box quicker. You used one hand to feel along the walls, and your other to check your sides to keep you from running into anything.

Once you felt something metallic hit your hand, you smiled. You soon felt a pair of arms wrap around you, making you blush. “T-tenya, I found the power box.” You stated happily as you opened it. “Really? That’s great!” Tenya replied, however his voice sounded farther away, instead of right where you were standing. Blinking you flipped the switch and watched at the basements weak light bulb flickered on. Turning around with fear in your eyes, you came face to face with a person wearing a creepy clown mask. Tenya was staring at the person in fear from across the basement.

Quickly you shoved the guy away before darting up the stairs with Tenya close behind you. As you opened the door, the two of you ended up tripping over each other as you tumbled out. Tenya had made sure he had hit the ground and caught you before you could hit your head and got injured. However, the two of you quickly shot up as you heard footsteps making their way up the stairs. Before you knew it, the man from the basement was standing in front of you, surprisingly no weapon in hand, then again, you never knew what his quirk could be. Slowly the person lifted up the mask they were wearing, as you and Tenya stared in fear. \

You could already hear Tenya’s engines charging up in case he needed to make a speedy getaway, thus his grip on you also tightened. “Got ya.” The intruder smiled as he lifted his mask all the way. The two of you blinked. “T-tensei!?” Tenya stuttered as he stared at his older brother. “That wasn’t funny! How could you do that!” You grumbled from pure embarrassment. “I agree! I thought you went out anyways to run some errands!” Tenya stated. Tensei simply laughed as he placed the mask on the kitchen counter. “I did, but I got back earlier and the two of you were so deep into that movie, I couldn’t help myself.” He gave a small laugh as a hint of pink appeared on his cheeks due to his own embarrassment. “Sorry, I didn’t think you two would get that scared.” Tensie rubbed the back of his neck. Tenya sighed. “It’s fine, just please don’t do that again.” He requested as he stood up and placed you gently on the ground. “Don’t worry, I won’t. But now that my little prank is complete, I’m going to take a shower, and go to bed. You two enjoy the rest of your movie.” Tensei walked out of the kitchen with you and Tenya following behind him. The two of you watched as he went upstairs before taking a seat back in the living room. “Well then.” Tenya awkwardly coughed into his hand. “Shall we proceed on with the movie?” He asked as he stared at the dark television waiting to be turned back on.

You hummed in a bit of thought before shacking your head. “No, maybe we should just start watching action and romance movies from now on?” You asked as you looked up at your boyfriend with a small smile. The hero to be released a large breath of relief, “Oh thank God, yes please.” He agreed happily.

[writers-clique]

Heartless

This is a horror short story I wrote. It’s a bit inspired by the TV show You. If you like a bit of horror, stalker, creepiness or just enjoy reading short stories from time to time, this one’s for you. Happy reading >:)

Heartless

I have been waiting for five years to return it. The fist-sized box sitting neatly in the passenger seat next to me. Its intricate red bow matches the black leather of the container. I listen to the AC’s cacophonous rumble as I look at the endless road in front of me. Normally, I prefer to have silence during long journeys like these. I can ponder about life, the sheer cliché of how meaningless it is and how unimportant each person is, no matter what their mothers, teachers or other equally unimportant individuals have told them before. But alas, the scorching desert sun is too powerful for the little heart inside my box so I turn up the cold air and try to ignore it.

At this point, you may be wondering if you read that last line correctly or you may have missed that specific minor detail entirely, doesn’t matter. Jhona is the only one who has to see it, right there on his kitchen counter, in all its veiny glory. It will be splendid! Watching the color drain from his face the way Mia’s blood gushed onto the tiles. Oh, who’s Mia? She’s just the girl who stole my heart.

*********

Five years ago, a senior going into school for his last day—that’s when I met her. I was walking towards the main doors when they suddenly opened and hit me in the face.

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry! Is your nose alright?” she said, covering her mouth and trying to hide a smile.

“Uh, yes. At least I think so.” I felt a bit of blood drip down my nostril onto my lip. It tasted delicious.

“You’re bleeding! I’m really sorry! Let me help you with that.” She snatched the books from my hands and, for a brief second, I felt her skin upon mine. Warm and tanned against my cold and pale arm.

She insisted on walking me to class, even though she didn’t have to. And whilst we walked, we talked. She turned out to be quite brilliant in ways I didn’t think someone at our school could be. She was into old literature, but wasn’t too picky, listened to good music and looked quite good as well. I knew her soul was bound to be interesting. And so, that same night after graduation, I went online and searched for “Mia Darlington”. And a darling she was. The whole of her Instagram and Tumblr was open for anyone to look at. I mean, it was like I had struck a golden mine of disposable information, all just a swipe and a tap away. That’s where I learned about a party that would be happening to celebrate the fact that half of these morons managed to scrape up enough IB points for a diploma of some sort, while the rest of us would actually succeed to some degree in life (pun intended). It would happen in a fortnight at Braden’s parents’ lake house. The whole thing would last for two days. After that she’d be mine.

In the fortnight that followed, Mia and I got closer than ever, which of course she didn’t know. I followed her around from a distance. She had quite the schedule. Guitar lessons, fitness, drawing, meditating. She had it all. Her bedroom window was conveniently positioned towards the road so my view from a bush across the street was perfect. By the time the party happened, I knew her better than she knew herself.

It had been three hours, fifty two minutes, twenty seven seconds and counting since the start of the party and she still had not arrived. I was growing rather impatient and, dare I say, worried. I decided to strike up a conversation with one of those buffoons who knew her, that way when she finally appeared, I’d have a head start for a conversation. I saw one of the guys from her Instagram. He was peculiar, but simple, one of these football goons. And yet, there he was, staring into his punch cup, looking depressed and out of place. Peculiar. I strategically placed myself near the refills and soon enough he approached. He filled the glass up to the rim with Jagermeister. Pathetic.

“Rough night?” I asked, mimicking his movements.

“Ha,” he took a swig of his drink, “you couldn’t have said that better.”

“Oh, really? Why so?”

“What do you care man? Who are you?” he drunkenly yelled and stumbled forward.

This would be harder than previously imagined. “Look, I’m sympathising with you. This party sucks.”

“It wouldn’t suck if . . . if she was here.” He whispered that last part, but I was closer than his drunk mind let him know.

Just then, his phone rang. The picture was of Mia, one I hadn’t seen before which was once more peculiar. I had gathered pretty much every picture of her, down to the ones she was too small to remember. At this point, he started muttering things to himself, obviously in no state to speak to her. That’s when the dots connected and I decided to use this particular lamentable moment of his to my benefit.

“Hi, who’s this?” I picked up the phone. I decided to play dumb and let her fall for me, believing it was her choice.

“Umm, I could ask you the same thing. Where’s Judah?” She didn’t sound pleased and the fact she didn’t recognize my voice admittedly hurt me.

“He- he’s having a bit of a rough night. It’s Adgar speaking by the way.”

“Adgar? Oh, wait aren’t you that guy I smacked into two weeks ago? I didn’t know you were friends with Judah.”

“Well, you don’t know a lot of things about me.” I thought that was a good line, so I made my voice husky at the end. I imagine that’s what James Bond would do.

She laughed. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right.”

“So umm, how come you’re not at the party?

“How did you know I was going there?” Suspicion slipped into her voice.

Crap, think Adgar, think you idiot.

“Oh, well Judah’s been crying that you haven’t come all night, so I figured you were going to come originally.” I tried to inject a smile into my voice the way some people do. It worked.

“He has? Well, doesn’t matter. I’m almost there so since you’re taking care of him I trust he’ll be OK.” She sounded distant and didn’t even let me reply before she hung up. That annoyed me.

I looked back for Judah, except he wasn’t there. Great, now I had to babysit a drunk blockhead instead of preparing for Mia. The plan was to find him and then tie him up somewhere in the woods where he wouldn’t cause any trouble. Finding him turned out to be easy. All I had to do was go for a leak, and there he was lying on the bathroom floor in his vomit.

Now how would I get him out without causing involuntary attention? The answer came from a shout of “CHUG! CHUG! CHUG! CHUG!” downstairs. That’s right, his equally stupid drunk friends wouldn’t remember a thing either, and they were loyal to him, like a golden retriever to its owner. All I had to do was spin a little white lie about the “unimaginable awesomeness” of them pulling the “greatest trick” in party history - tying Judah to a tree whilst he’s unconscious. I mean, it was honestly laughable how easily they agreed. Good thing they were drunk.

It took three of them to carry him downstairs and into the forest. I mean, I didn’t even touched him. All of the evidence pointed to them. They were so wasted they didn’t notice me drifting back to the house, leaving them in the darkness.

By the time I came back, Mia was there. She was something to see. In her own world. Dancing along to whatever indie song they had put on, drink in one hand. She looked like she’d floated down straight from heaven. A beautiful gift just for me, all wrapped up in a tight red dress, beach curls slightly bobbing up and down.

Now the hardest part was approaching; I had to approach her. I decided to rip that bandaid straight off and just went for it. Confidence after all, is key.

“Hey, you’re the girl who smacked me in the face.” I tried the James Bond voice again.

“Hey, you’re the guy I smacked in the face.” She smiled.

Good, that’s good. Smiling is always a positive thing.

“Care for a refill?” I reached towards her cup.

“Yeah, sure.”

Like taking candy from a baby. People reading this, I’m going to give you a pro tip. Never. Ever. Give your glass to someone you don’t know at a party, bar or wherever. They may just put something funky in there. Sad thing really, she’ll never get to read this.

I had prepared an excuse just in case anyone was to give me trouble: “Oh she was just so tired, poor thing fell asleep.” But, as predicted, they were all too drunk and too self absorbed to notice. She was a bit heavy I must admit, heavier than I imagined. Of course, though, she fit perfectly into the trunk of my car. I was not staying for the remainder of this party and neither was she. What happened next was a two hour long, silence filled car ride in which every speed bump I hit I worried about her. I mean, I loved her. If she got even a single bruise, I swore not to forgive myself.

Once we had arrived home, I placed her in the basement where she would be staying until I knew that her love for me was eternal. I had already prepared the room: soundproof door, mattress, chains on the wall. I laid her down gently and put on her shackles, then I sat on a chair and waited. Waited for her to wake up and for our souls to connect, our love so powerful.

As you may have guessed already, that did not happen. What ended up happening was an intense conversation and double murder.

“Wh-where am I,” she muttered sitting up.

“You’re home,” I smiled. I wanted to reassure her.

“Home? I’m not home! You-you took me here! Why am I chained up? Somebody help, help!” She started screaming. Shaking. Tugging at the chains. Going rabid.

“Now, now. There’s no need for that. No one can hear you anyway.” The effect of my words didn’t convey what I wanted, as she didn’t calm down and become rational, but started throwing herself on the floor, sobbing and yelling harder than before. I decided to give her some time.

One day later, as predicted, she had calmed down. She was also starving and I used that to my advantage, as I did with many things. I brought her a plate of her favorite food - seafood paella - which I’d learned to make specifically for her. She took the plate and started gorging on the warm food. I found that curiously arousing.

“So you’re ready to talk like humans?” I tried a smile, but her cold stare disapproved.

“You’re no human! You’re an animal.” Rice grains fell out of her mouth as she yelled, and I couldn’t help but point out the irony by raising an eyebrow. Once more my humor was not appreciated.

“Let me go! What do you even want from me, you nutcase!?”

“I’m glad you asked me. See, Mia, darling, I love you, and I know that if you give me a chance, you’ll love me too.” I said that with what I thought was my most convincing and confident smile, and yet her eyes widened and her eyebrows formed an angry looking V on her usually beautiful face, turning it into something quite displeasing.

“I. Will. Never. Ever. Love. You!” She threw the plate at the wall, smashing it. The meal splattered on the ground.

“I don’t think I like your tone.”

“I don’t care what you like! I hate you! I only love Judah!”

“Silence! I will NOT let myself believe these lies you are utterring!”

“They’re not lies! I will never love you. Judah is the only person I’ve ever truly loved.”

There it was. The first murder. She plunged deep with her nails into my chest and stole my heart. Devoured it even! For the next several days, she tried everything to escape and I tried meaninglessly to make her mine, but she would not have it. And on top of that, her phone would not stop buzzing with messages from her family, friends and, irritably, Judah. I was losing hope as all she would talk about was Judah. That’s when I finally realized she had destroyed my heart, absolutely pulverized it. No more of that. An eye for an eye, a heart for a heart.

I think she knew the end was coming the moment I walked into the basement. The dark gloves probably gave my intentions away. I decided I didn’t wish to waste any more of my time. I advanced towards her, wordlessly. Silence was the way I liked to do these things. Just like a car ride, slow and enjoyable. She once again started one of her intense screaming sessions. A wailing, powerless shriek. Left on the front door of Mr. Death. At his mercy.

I smacked her into unconsciousness and dragged her towards the bathroom. No blood would be spilled in my basement. Once in the bathroom I decided on a barbaric sort of death for her, the way she killed my heart. I gently opened the toilet lid and placed her head on the seat. What followed was an intense upper body workout resulting in a broken toilet lid and smashed skull. I sprinkled the little bone fragments into the toilet bowl and flushed. I had decided on selling what was left of her on the dark web.  Everything except her heart. You see I needed it. Heart transplants aren’t cheap and since she was the one who’d stolen mine it was only fair she gave one back.

So now that you’re all caught up, let’s go back to present times. I have recently met a girl, even better than Mia. She’s given me back my heart in ways I could never have imagined. We met a week ago. She dropped her purse and I gave it back to her. Her knight in shining armor. I love her. I no longer need Mia’s heart, but I know someone who does.

Coincidentally, once people knew Mia was not coming back, Judah fell into depression. Or at least that’s the theory. Supposedly, he got back from the party, but he didn’t really get back. He left poor innocent Judah behind. He was going to be a football player at some top university but now he spends his days drinking away whatever life is left inside of him and scaring the kids in our little old town.

So I’m giving him a present. Something he’ll cherish and remember forever.

I hope you appreciate this, Judah. I know how much you loved her with all your dying heart.

Love, Adgar.

[tkmedia]

The Blue Meanie And JBL Talk Bloody Incident At ECW One Night Stand

Former ECW and WWE superstar The Blue Meanie sat down for an in-depth interview with legends Gerald Brisco and JBL for an episode of Stories with Brisco and Bradshaw.During the interview they discussed a wide variety of topics, but focused particularly on The Blue Meanie’s and JBL’s infamous past heat when both were in the WWE. Meanie spoke more in-depth about his perspective at the time, and how he didn’t know he was doing anything wrong.“It just comes down to it was a competitive atmosphere during the Monday Night Wars,” reflects Meanie. “Everybody was a little bit on edge and stuff like that. I, myself, admit I had a comedy of errors on my part coming into the company. You know, my first weekend in I debut in Philly. We’re supposed to go to Baltimore the next day and then go do Hartford for a Raw. So, me being the typical indie guy and never flying, I was like I’ll drive the loop. I’ll go to Philly, Baltimore, up to Connecticut no problem.“And Earl Hebner said ‘No, we actually fly you now.’ So I was like ‘Cool.’ So, I do Philly and go to Baltimore. And in Baltimore I check in for my flight and I look at my ticket and go ‘Well, dang. That’s awfully close to the front of the plane.’ I look to Al and go ‘Am I behind first class?’ He goes ‘Eh, it’s pretty close up.’ Al’s not letting me off the hook, right?“So, I get on the plane and I see my seat and I go ‘Oh no, I’m done for.’ I’m like, my first weekend in they’re putting me in first class, right? So, I’m sitting there and I try to just be like inconspicuous. Hoping nobody sees me. It’s me, Big Boss Man, Shawn Michaels, and one other person. And I knew I was in trouble. One guy comes in and gives me the look, another guy comes in and gives me the look. But it wasn’t until Mick Foley walked into the plane and he goes ‘Oh Meanie, oh Meanie, no. Meanie!’ It was like a horror movie. I was like ‘What Mick?! Please take me with you!’“We take off. And we get to where we’re flying and out of the back of the plane, and I don’t know who says it, ‘Why the f*ck is Blue Meanie in first class?!’ I’m just like ‘Oh my god!’ If there was a door next to me, I would’ve done the nasty plunge.”This story eventually made its way back to Gerald Brisco and he learned about it. Meanie was driving back to the arena with Mick Foley and Bob Holly when he asked them for their thoughts on the situation.“We land in Connecticut and I’m a bundle of nerves,” tells Meanie. “I’m riding, it’s me Mick Foley and Bob Holly. I was like ‘Guys, did I mess up?’ And they said ‘Eh, you’ll be alright.’ I was like ‘Nobody is going to poop in my bag, are they?’ And Bob Holly goes ‘I don’t think they poop in bags anymore.’”Meanie eventually sat down with Brisco and other office members and was able to resolve the entire situation. Brisco says that Meanie had no idea he was doing anything wrong, and that you have to be understanding with new talents when they first start.Meanie admits he did not know he was doing anything wrong, and that he pretty much stumbled into the company. He notes that he doesn’t know why he and JBL had heat, and Meanie always thought it was because of the plane incident.JBL and Brisco went on to describe how the wrestling business used to be filled with a lot of ribbing and a lot of pranks. But that those pranks could also go too far. They also discussed how there used to be a lot of unwritten rules within the locker room that young talent had to learn, and fast.Meanie then went on to tell a story about what he did the next time he received a first class ticket.“When they brought me back to work with for SmackDown, it was July 4, 2005,” recalled Meanie. “And they flew me in the night before and we did a show. And we’re catching a redeye out and I get my plane ticket and it’s a first class ticket. I go ‘Hahaha, fool me once. Hey, Mr. Steamboat, how would you like to sit in first class?’ ‘Nah, Meanie, I’m good.’ ‘You want to sit in first class?!?!’ No, I didn’t do that. But he was like ‘No, no.’ So I went to Tony Garea and went ‘Hey Mr. Garea, how would you like to sit in first class?’ ‘No, Meanie, I’m good.’ Eventually I grabbed him .”Meanie says a lot of his issues in the WWE ultimately came down to him being green and not having the guidance he needed.“There’s a lot of things I was just green and didn’t know I was doing anything wrong until somebody pulled me aside and said ‘Hey, this is what you should’ve done’ and stuff like that,” admits Meanie.Brisco would go on to ask both men about their infamous brawl at ECW One Night Stand in 2005. This was the incident that saw JBL deliberately and stiffly attack Meanie during a brawl at the end of the PPV that left Meanie bloodied. JBL notes he has already apologized to Meanie and that he is sad the PPV is not remembered for the wrestling in the ring.“I didn’t know that Meanie already had a cut from Sandman from a while back, I had no idea,” said JBL. “As far as the incident, after Meanie came back in, I pulled him in a private room and I apologized. I said sorry for the whole thing, and sorry for my part. I was also sorry for the fact that ECW had such a good pay-per-view, and that what was remembered was me and Meanie rather that the good work that the guys had put in.”Meanie admits that after his initial WWE release that in interviews he wanted to be shocking and at the time had said that Bradshaw was an “a**hole.” He goes on to say that he misconstrued everything as bullying. He also says the most important thing was what happened a bit later after the incident when they made up.“The most important thing is we got to SmackDown on July 4, 2005,” remembers Meanie. “And approached me and said ‘Hey, want to go talk?’ I said ‘Absolutely’. . . Here’s the deal, you’ve all been to TV and there’s signage everywhere. Catering, kayfabe, Vince’s office. So, as we’re walking I’m seeing less signage. And I’m like ‘If me and John go into this room and there’s plastic on the floor, I’m running.’“We went in the room like two men, he shut the door behind me. He said ‘Hey, we can either fight or make money.’ I said ‘Uh, I’d like to make some money, sir.’ And we had a heart-to-heart talk. I explained everything at the time, how I thought he bullied me. He told me about his experiences with the NFL and playing for the Raiders and a little bit of ball-breaking and ribs, and stuff like that.”Brisco then interjects that JBL got his butt kicked for a week by Raiders’ legend Howie Long, which JBL confirms to be true.Meanie goes on to say that he felt out of place, and kind of felt like the new kid at school.“I was like the new kid at school,” shares Meanie. “When you get into the wrestling business you’re always going through this process of re-establishing yourself. You could’ve been the coolest kid in grade school, but when you go to high school, you’re a freshman. Then you become the coolest kid in high school and you go to college. Again, you’re a freshman. Then you graduate college and then you have to become an intern and start the process all over again. I might have been whoever I was in ECW, but now I’m in WWE. They don’t give a crap about what I did in ECW, I have to re-establish myself in that locker room.”Meanie say she didn’t want to step on any toes. He just wanted to go into work and do his job, and go home without any heat. He notes that he wishes he could go back in time with the experience he has now.JBL notes how much he has changed personally since then as well. He says he has learned how to treat people better and not rib people who are not in on it.  He says he likes to think he has improved as person.“I’ve learned over the years if people don’t know, you just don’t bust their balls,” reflects JBL. “It’s construed wrong, it’s taken wrong, and I didn’t think about it at the time. I hope I’m a different guy now then I was then. will tell you I’m not. I still bust his balls.”If you use any of the quotes in this article, please credit Stories with Brisco and Bradshaw with a h/t to Wrestling Inc. for the transcription.

Read the full article

[leggiamo]

Duplicity — Chapter XXVI

Holding someone’s heart in your hand is an honor. It’s a sign of ultimate trust. They trust you to care for it, to be delicate with it, to treat it as though it were your own heart beating in your chest, keeping you alive. Holding on to such a fragile part of them becomes the reason you keep going each day.

Their heart beats for you and yours for them. You live for each other. Your lungs breathe for them and your thoughts become theirs.

When you intertwine, you lose yourself in them; you lose the ability to tell where they end and you begin. Existing as a being separate from them is unfathomable; you can’t remember a time when you walked the earth alone—when you lacked a complete connection with another soul.

To have that—to give yourself completely to one person—is a state of being that is indescribable. To throw it away is a heinous rejection of the ultimate gift.

And I was the fool who threw it away.

He handed me his heart to hold, to cherish and protect, and I crushed it, burned it, and shredded it to the point of being unrecognizable. Where I once held a warm physical embodiment of his soul, I now open my hand to reveal an empty palm. A cold, empty palm.

And yet, he still has my heart in his hand—at least, he holds part of it—and I’m not entirely sure that he actually wants to continue to carry that burden.

“I’m going to lose you, aren’t I?” I asked him, knowing all too well that he couldn’t hear me.

It surprises me how he sleeps so soundly, without even the slightest flinch from a night terror, even though my sinning flesh lay beside his each night.

He manages to hide his feelings from me and the rest of the world so expertly. He’s a different person when we’re around his family. That sparkle, though slightly dulled in only a way I can recognize, returns to his eyes. His smile, though more modest than usual, returns if only for a second. His fingers are still as soft as I remembered, and the feeling that rushes through me when they brush innocuously against my skin is jolting for different reasons than before.

The second we are out from under the observant gaze of those ignorant to our silent struggle for recovery, he becomes someone else. I can see that he’s fighting some inner turmoil, and every day I yearn to know the result. It’s a conflict similar to the one I’ve seen before in a different pair of eyes.

Trying to rebuild has been an arduous effort. At times, it feels like we’re pretending to be people we no longer are. I catch myself wondering if it was even worth trying to hold onto something so fractured, so damaged, that it seemed beyond repair. I was tip-toeing around him lately, choosing my words carefully and policing my own actions, just to be the woman I thought he would want me to be.

I can see a change in the way he looks at me sometimes these days, but I can never decipher exactly what it was that I was seeing in those eyes. Our arguments never last long but they have become more frequent. I feel his frustration just as much as I hear it in his voice. It makes me wonder whether he’s just going to give up and change his mind.

I sighed and brushed away the hair gathering at the peak of his forehead before turning around and forcing myself back to sleep.

Something jolted me awake. Even in my haze of confusion, I was able to tell that Cesc’s side of the bed was empty. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and looked around the room, trying to determine what roused me out of my sleep.

It was the doorbell.

I yawned loudly and ambled out of bed, rubbing my vision clear as I walked down the stairs. I yawned again before opening the door.

It was 9 AM on a Sunday and Gerard was on my doorstep. We stared at each other at a loss for what to say. I panicked and the door shut with a loud bang.

“Indigo,” the muffled call came from behind the door. “Indi, he knows I’m coming. It’s okay.”

That didn’t make sense. Cesc wasn’t here. Why would he leave when he told Gerard to come so early on a Sunday?

I could hear him call out to me from the other side of the door again, but I couldn’t move. I didn't want to move. I hadn’t seen his face or heard his voice in so long. What troubled me was my inability to tell if the tears that prickled my eyes were caused by confusion and sadness, or if they were there because I realized that the nagging emptiness I had been ignoring had finally been filled.

“I don’t care what you say—” I finally found my voice. “—I can’t let you in.”

“Indi please just trust me,” he responded.

“I do and that’s why I can’t do that,” I called out loud enough for him to hear.

There was silence on the other side, and although the seconds continued to tick closer to a minute, I wasn’t positive that he left. I couldn’t get myself to move.

Part of me wanted to open the door and see him still standing there with something in his eyes indicating that he, too, had an emptiness in him that had just been filled. That same piece of me wanted him to call out, to ask me again to let him in, because even though he was here for Cesc, he missed me and needed to see me in order to feel whole again after so long.

That Indigo was selfish and the reason why we were both standing on opposite sides of this door. No matter how I tried to decouple her from myself—my imagined better self—I knew I couldn’t. We were part of a whole; we were two fractured pieces from opposite ends on the spectrum of desirable and undesirable qualities melded into one. It was what made us human.

I could feel him on the other side of the door, his impressive stature hovering, waiting, for something to happen. How is it that he could still have this effect on me?

“Gerard why won’t you leave?”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“This isn’t about you, Indigo.” He didn’t yell, nor did he snap at me, but I could hear the irritation in his tone. The coarseness of his voice threw me off balance. “You already know how I feel, but I’m ignoring that for him. He finally spoke to me outside of a moment when he’s been required to, and I’m taking that as a sign of progress, do you understand that?

“Do you understand what that moment meant to me? What I felt when I realized he was finally acknowledging me as someone that exists again? As someone that he knows? I’m here for him, not you. You can’t—you don’t exist to me anymore, Indigo.”

My world went through rapid cycles of dark and light, each blink of my eyes rendering me momentarily blind. A faint ringing in my ears grew aggressively louder. The door handle blurred and shifted a little to the left, a little up, and a little to the right of where it was when I looked at it just a moment ago.

I blinked as I tried to regain control of my senses. The door handle was back in its normal position and the ringing began to quiet down. When I opened the door, it was Gerard that was hazy, but he also became clear when I blinked again.

He looked at my face and silently followed the path a lone tear took down my cheek and around the bend of my jaw. If he had to force himself to be indifferent toward the sight of my tears, then I understood his reasoning. I walked away from him, leaving him alone to wait for Cesc to return.

I found my way to my bathroom and let the water flow from the faucet as I cupped my hands beneath it. Some water slipped through my fingertips as I told myself to keep it together but ultimately failed. Lukewarm water splashed across my face, washing away the tears that fell. I lifted my head from the sink and stared at myself in the mirror. Droplets of water slid down a face that I could barely recognize.

I finished up the rest of my morning routine and left the bathroom to take a seat on the bed. Despite there being one extra body in the house, it was dead silent.

I wasn’t sure when I had fallen asleep, or how long I had even been asleep for, but I did know that the house was silent whereas now I could hear both of their voices. I could barely make out words; they were loud enough for me to know that they were talking but not loud enough for me to know what about.

I was stuck. This was supposed to be a private moment for them. If I interjected myself I could change the entire dynamic of their conversation. Cesc might look at me and Gerard and let his resentment take over.

But I needed to know what they were saying.

I left the room and quietly made my way to the bathroom nearest the top of the stairs. I left the door open and sat on the counter. Their voices were clearer but not by much. What I could tell was that there was neither anything hostile nor overly amicable about their tones. I supposed the fact that they weren’t yelling at each other was a positive sign, though Cesc was never really one to get his point across by yelling.

As I failed at eavesdropping, I thought about how I let what I had trickle through my fingertips like sand. All that I had here should have belonged to somebody else.

A chill shook me and the sounds of their voices became muffled vibrations in the back of my head. The room faded away as I drifted off into a void. I could feel myself becoming numb to it all. What had been an all black expanse suddenly flashed into white.

I saw Gerard, the blatant pain in his eyes, drift by the deeper I sank into this world. An echo of his words, “this isn’t about you” followed after him. It had always been about me and only me. It was all about how they both made me feel; my feelings, my need to fill a void within in me always came first as I acted in disregard for any repercussions that would have a great effect on their lives.

Though I always told myself it was wrong, I never stopped myself. I could have easily turned to the one person I should have but I didn’t. All for the sake of fulfilling my own need to feel wanted in arms where I didn’t belong. I had more than most but it wasn’t enough for me.

Now, though it was far too late, I realized it couldn’t be about me. I couldn’t insert myself where I didn’t belong. This was about them, their need to heal, to rebuild and move on. I had to remove myself from the equation.

I blinked slowly and exhaled. The sound of my name, a quick call, brought me out of my trance. I heard it again, louder, and jumped down from atop the counter. I paced my descent of the stairs into the tense silence that awaited me.

Their eyes were on me when I reached the kitchen.

I gauged the distance between them. Gerard seemed to shrink himself. His shoulders were slouched, his gaze was quickly lowered, and his hands were in his pockets. Cesc, on the other hand, had his arms folded in front of his chest and watched me as I approached.

I swallowed and couldn’t bring myself to say anything.

“I just need the both of you to answer something for me right here, right now.” He paused, waiting for us to interject, but we said nothing. “Why would you allow me to get in the middle of something neither of you had gotten over? Did you consider my feelings at all?”

“I—”

“I didn’t,” I interrupted. “ I knew it would hurt you and I was always afraid of you finding out, but I realize now that I was always putting myself first—”

“You would have kept it up if you didn’t get pregnant, wouldn’t you?”

I opened my mouth, but Gerard stepped forward and my words were gone.

“I couldn’t,” he said quietly. “I don’t know what or how she really feels, or if she really believes what she just said, but she cared enough about something. Watching it eat away at her, and the realization that there was so much more to lose—I couldn’t keep going on like that.”

I looked between them and knew this was touching upon a part of the conversation that I was absent for. Something solemn was passing between them. Something still understood despite being left unsaid.

I realized what I was witnessing. “This is not ending like this—”

“Indigo,” Cesc sighed. “He has been—he is in love with you. How can I stick around—how can I continue to look at him and joke around knowing that he is in love with the same woman as me? He knows what it feels like to be with you so closely; he was going to be the father of your child for god’s sake.”

“Cesc—”

“You love him and I guess you love me as well. I don’t know how it works—” He shrugged and looked away, his eyebrows casting a shadow over his face. After a breath, he turned to look at me again. “I don’t know you anymore, or maybe I never did know you like I thought I did. I don’t know anything anymore, but I do know that I can’t pretend that I can live with this. If it was anyone else, well… but it’s him. I can’t be friends with someone who’s in love with the woman I love, or at least did at some point.”

I could taste the sick at the back of my throat. “W-what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that if I want to try to love you the same way again, he can’t be anywhere in the picture.”

“No. You two—”

“Indigo,” Gerard muttered, “I already told you that this isn’t about you. This is something that you don’t get to manipulate.”

I could see in his eyes, I could tell by how dull the shade of blue had become, that he was at the end of his line. He already accepted this result and was ready to adjust to his new life. He had chosen one of us but was going to end up with neither of us.

“If—” Cesc stopped to chuckle. “If you want to be with him now’s your chance. I wouldn’t hold it against you.”

They were both looking at me now, waiting for me to say something. Gerard shook his head and turned away. Cesc watched me stare at his now former best friend, the one who loved me and complicated me before him, with an uneasy expression. There was a twinge of disappointment in his eyes when I took the first steps in Gerard’s direction.

“Gerard,” I murmured. He exhaled heavily, but I could tell it wasn’t an expression of irritation. Rather, he was trying to keep his façade from collapsing. “I’m sorry.”

He neither looked at me nor said a word.

I flung my arms around his waist and squeezed. “I’m sorry,” I repeated.

He looked down this time and his eyes were so tired. Those eyes that I had loved so much would not shed any tears in this moment, even though I believed they wanted to. They flickered toward Cesc and then back to me.

“Indigo,” he sighed, “let go.”

It only made me squeeze him tighter. He flinched when I reached up and pressed my palm to his cheek. “Promise me you’ll find someone.”

Air escaped his lips. “Now you want me to?”

“You’re losing so much—”

“Let me go, Indigo.”

My arms fell limp at my sides. When I turned around, I found Cesc shaking his head.

“I don’t understand why you’re still trying to make this work when you’re clearly in love with him, Indigo.”

“I’m not—”

“How are you going to tell me that lie when I just watched that whole thing? I can see it in the way that you look at him!”

“I’m not lying! I have love for him but it is different from what I feel for you. It’s different with you. None of this has been as black and white as you think it is.”

“Do you want her, Gerard?” he asked, completely ignoring me.

I couldn’t see his reaction. All I could see was Cesc’s glower. “All I want is to move on from this—I want to let go of all of this.”

I slowly walked away from him. Cesc looked between the both of us as I moved, as if he was contemplating whether he wanted to wash his hands of both of us or just one of us. The right thing for me to do would be to leave them both, to let them both move on without me.

I was the one who set the wheels of this disaster in motion. I wanted them both in ways I couldn’t have them and left Gerard without two people he loved. I left Cesc without his brother but with a woman he could probably never love again. Was I being selfish by wanting him to stay with me in spite of all of this? I thought of all of the times I betrayed him and still received his forgiveness and wondered how this wasn’t the final straw.

“Do you really still see a future with me, Cesc? After all that I have done to hurt you? Can you really be happy with me?”

“If you want to be with—”

“No.” I shook my head as I closed the distance between us. “This isn’t about what I want. This isn’t about Gerard, either. This is about you and your happiness and what you want. Can you really still love me and want to continue to grow with me? Would that really make you happy?”

“I can’t just turn it off. I can’t just wake up and suddenly decide that I don’t love you, and I’m not even sure that I would want to even if I could. I’m beginning to resent you because I still love you so much. It’s illogical.”

I bit down to stop my lip from quivering. “If—” I took a quick breath. “—you feel like you’re starting to hate me, then shouldn’t you leave me?”

“Do you want to be done or not, Indigo? You can’t make up your mind.”

“I’m not trying to talk you into anything. I want to be with you but only if it’s really what you want and not because you feel obligated or—”

“I love you, I think. I don’t know anymore. I feel something when I look at you but I don’t know what it is.”

“Cesc—”

“Don’t say my name like that,” he sighed.

“—maybe it’s time…”

“Indigo…” He closed his eyes as he let his head loll backward. He pinched the bridge of his nose between two fingers and sighed loudly. “You keep insisting you want to be with me and now you’re saying I should end this? Has there ever been a time when you knew what you wanted?”

“Yes.” I knew, at one point years ago, that Gerard was my whole world and the only thing I wanted. Then, years later, when I gave myself to him wholly, that Cesc was who I wanted to love unconditionally until the end of time. “I knew that I wanted you when I let myself be vulnerable and you treated me so delicately. But we’re not in the same place and we’re not the same people anymore.

“I know that you still love me, but I can see in your eyes that it’s not the same as it used to be. It’s like every day you’re in love with me a little less. You look at me like a stranger sometimes and I can see the anger and disgust that you keep pent up.”

It felt like it was just the two of us in the room. As I spoke, he watched me with the eyes of a man I did not know. There was exhaustion in the shadows of his already dark eyes. Even when he happened to smile, the sparkle never penetrated that shroud of darkness.

What started as a rift between us had grown into a canyon miles wide. We could see and call out to each other from the other sides, but we would never meet again.

“I already told you that I don’t want you to forgive me,” I said softly, ignoring the look of vague irritation that I received. “We could take the time but what if time only brings you to resent me more? What would be the point? When you add up all that I have done there’s not enough time that could heal those wounds. I’ve been trying to be the woman you want me to be just to keep you happy, to keep you with me, but I know it’s not working—”

“So that’s it, then,” he said quickly. “This is you finally making a decision.”

I nodded as I wiped moisture from my cheeks. I saw fragments of my world beginning to fall away and hit the ground with shattering sounds. The pain I felt in my heart, the tearing and burning, was nothing like what I had ever felt before.

“You can keep that,” Cesc muttered when he saw me grab at my ring. He shook his head, trying to shake away tears of his own, and suddenly pulled me close.

He overwhelmed me with his touch, his smell, and the rhythm of his heartbeat. It became harder to breathe the longer he held on, but I didn’t want him to let go. I wanted to save this moment of myself in his arms because I didn’t know if I would ever experience it again.

My heart beat a rapid tune when his thumbs caressed my cheeks. His kiss never met my lips. Rather, it pressed against my forehead and lingered, leaving behind a residue of the feelings he wouldn’t verbally express. This was him letting go.

It wasn’t until he physically let me go that I realized Gerard was still in the room with us, silently watching things continue to fall apart. I rushed out of the room when I turned and accidentally met the sad curiosity in his eyes.

Of all the things that I have done that I could never take back, this one hurt like hell, but for once, it wasn’t an act of betrayal but a means to heal. We needed this to happen—he needed this to happen—and it should have happened long ago before we even fell too deeply in love. He deserved to be free and happy. I could no longer make him happy. This wasn’t for me. This was for him.

This was for the man I loved.

[tarmacadamsurfacingcontractors]

Ms Smith Goes to Westminster

Eleanor Smith was just 10 years old when Enoch Powell made his infamous Rivers of Blood speech, in her hometown of Birmingham in 1968. But she was old enough to be aware of the frightening repercussions of that speech on her parents’ West Indian community.

“I can remember my mum and dad saying, ‘I can’t believe this man. He came to the West Indies asking us to move to Britain and do their jobs – and now he’s asking us to get out.’ When an MP could come out with that, in public, it was a scare, a wake-up call. My parents were asking, ‘Was it the right decision to come? Should we go back home?’

“Some people were actually scared to come out of their houses, because of the National Front,” she adds. “But at the same time we were defiant. We wouldn’t back down.”

Her use of ‘we’ in that sentence is telling, for the 10-year-old would grow up to become someone willing to fight battles with and for others, first as a long-standing UNISON activist – peaking when she became the union’s first black female president – and now as a newly-elected member of parliament.

And in a wonderfully fitting turn-up for the books, the former nurse’s constituency as MP, Wolverhampton South West, is the very seat occupied by Enoch Powell. And in winning it, she’s become the first black MP in the West Midlands.

“I hadn’t realised how significant it was until I actually won,” she admits. “I didn’t know it was his seat, in the first place. No idea. Then when I found out, I played it down. A former MP here, [Conservative] Paul Uppal, is a Sikh, so his was an important achievement.

“But people said no, it’s significant because Powell’s speech was particularly about West Indians. And my winning this seat shows that we have moved on. You have to look forward and say, ‘That was then, this is now’.

We can all work together to find the solution for the different problems. And I’d like to be the glue

She praises the diversity of her constituency today, which includes Kurdish, Poles, Eastern Europeans, Indians, Pakistanis – both Muslims and Sikhs – and native Britons.

“They all have their faith. And that hasn’t split them, it’s brought them together. It’s what I like about this community, they support each other. For example, after those horrible events in Manchester all the different faiths got together to support the Muslims here, who were feeling very vulnerable.

“We have our issues, but they affect everyone across the community. What I’ve said is that we can all work together to find the solution for the different problems. And I’d like to be the glue.”

Appropriately, U meets Ms Smith in her new constituency office, a large, handsome detached building, which is still in the midst of a major paint job – the MP sidestepping the painters in her heels while giving an enthusiastic tour.

She chose the building because of its location – on a busy street, close to the city centre, in an area that includes homes, offices and student residences.

‘Accessibility’ is her byword. “I want people to see me.” She’s moved home from Birmingham to Wolverhampton. And as well as meeting constituents in the office, she’s struck up an agreement with a nearby Sainsbury’s for her to hold a surgery in the supermarket cafe, where mothers in particular may find it easier to see her, while shopping with their kids.

She seems to love talking to the public. “You start by talking about everyday things – giving your daughters swimming lessons, the rubbish that’s on YouTube for kids, having trouble reading small print without your specs. You get paid for the month, but after three weeks there’s no more money.

“Sometimes you have been through the same thing, and that’s where you can connect. People don’t want to be patronised, but to feel that you’ve been there too. And then you can see them relax and you take it from there.

“It’s the same as when you’re a union rep,” she adds. And then she laughs. “I’ve always felt that I have the Oprah effect.”

First and foremost she wants to be a good constituency MP. “I want to make a difference for the people I represent. My aim is to put Wolverhampton and my constituency on the map.”

So she’s pleased as punch about one local success story that she’s already had a hand in, that of Brian White, a Zimbabwean-born orphan who was adopted by a British couple, moved to Wolverhampton at 15 and won at place a place at Oxford University – only to face losing it when threatened with deportation.

“I was made aware of Brian’s case through parents from his school. I went to the school, was introduced to him, and helped with the campaign on his behalf. I took it up with the Home Office, and got him to do an online petition which went viral.

“And this morning we got the news that he can stay here, and go to Oxford. I felt so proud. I’ve asked him to formally open my constituency office.”

On a larger scale, homelessness and youth unemployment are the “burning passions” that she wants to tackle in Wolverhampton. While in Westminster the nurse of some 40 years expects to be fighting many a battle on behalf of the NHS.

For me to make any kind of difference, particularly for the NHS, becoming an MP felt like the only way

Ms Smith was one of the record 208 women elected in June. Within days of her landmark victory she was entering Westminster as an MP.

“It was so surreal at first. As I was walking through the building somebody said, ‘These are the corridors of power’. And I thought, ‘Oh my gosh. I’m in this position now.’”

She gets very excited when relating the Commons traditions, including her favourite – the prayer card. Backbench members can guarantee a particular seat by placing a card with their name behind it, which also commits them to attending prayers in the chamber – whatever their faith – before the day’s business begins.

“As a Christian I like the idea of going to prayers first, anyway.” And what seat did she bag? She smiles. “There were three of us, who just wanted to be near the front, in the thick of the action. Then when everyone came in we realised we were just behind Jeremy.”

While her two grown-up daughters (a nurse and an events coordinator) took a while to get their heads around their mother’s new role, her six-year-old granddaughter is taking it in her stride. “Tia has told everyone that ‘Nan’s an MP’. I took her to Westminster last week. She kept her security pass, of course, but then lost it, so she drew another one with a picture of herself and the words Tiana Smith, MP. She’s creative like that.”

After her own parents moved to Birmingham from Barbados, her mother worked as a caterer in a children’s home, her father as a paint sprayer in a small garage. She believes that it was all those years ago, at the family’s kitchen table in Birmingham, that she developed her social consciousness.

“We had politics in our house all the time. That’s why I’m Labour – you couldn’t vote any other way. My parents were Pentecostal Christians, and the values they had, about helping and supporting other people, were very much Labour’s.

“And we’d talk about what was going on in the world – what was happening with race relations in America, in South Africa, and comparing those places with the UK.”

She cites her mother, a member of NUPE back then, who’s since passed away, as her biggest inspiration. “She was resilient. She had seven kids, and brought us up all to be independent. She told us that as a black person – woman or man – you’re going to have to up your game, and work harder than your white counterparts. And she used to tell us, ‘Don’t be jealous of anybody.”

It was through conversations with her mother that she decided to become a nurse. Though she worked in intensive care and A&E, it was as a theatre nurse for 30 years “where I found my passion”. She’d love to keep her hand in, “but realistically, I don’t think I can’.

She joined NUPE during a pay and grading dispute at work, which was affecting her as she returned from maternity leave. After her successful appeal, she trained to become a steward so that she could represent her colleagues who were still being affected.

Over the years, and as NUPE became part of UNISON, she moved through the ranks, from branch secretary, to the region, to the National Executive Committee and, in 2012, president.

And it was the union presidency that inspired her to run for government. “It felt like the right thing to do, to take my career to the next level. For me to make any kind of difference, particularly for the NHS, becoming an MP felt like the only way.”

She’s off to a flying start, with shadow home secretary Diane Abbott asking her to become her parliamentary private secretary, which will give her an immediate proximity to and experience of the shadow cabinet.

Considering her breakthroughs as a black woman, both at UNISON and in Wolverhampton, does she regard herself as ground-breaking?

“No, I don’t actually. And you know what, it should have happened a long time ago, particularly with the parliamentary seat. Why has it taken this long in the West Midlands? But anyway, it’s done now, and hopefully there will be others to follow, and others to think that they can do it.

“If I’m a role model, I want it to be for ordinary people, not black people. I want everybody from a working class background to feel that they can achieve what they want.”

Portraits: © Jess Hurd 

This article first appeared in the Autumn 2017 edition of U Magazine. 

The article Ms Smith Goes to Westminster first appeared on the UNISON National site.

from UNISON National https://www.unison.org.uk/news/magazine/2017/11/ms-smith-goes-westminster/ via IFTTT