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teriri-sayes · 1 month ago

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History of “Lout of Count’s Family”

This compilation lists all real-life events related to the Korean novel, 백작가의 망나니가 되었다 (Lout of Count’s Family), in chronological order, but limited to the Korean and English-reading audiences.

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2018

April 9, 2018

The novel was first released as a free-to-read series on Munpia, a Korean web novel platform, under the title, 백작가의 망나니가 되었다 (I Became the Trash of the Count’s Family) by the author, Yoo Ryeo Han, under the Korean publisher, Chungeoram. It had a Mon-Sat release schedule of 6 chapters per week.

May 29, 2018

The novel became a pay-to-read series, owing to its popularity, as announced by the author on May 25. Its first cover illustration featured Cale and Raon.

Image 1. The first cover illustration of the novel.

July 26, 2018

The novel won both the Grand Prize and the Popularity Award at the 4th Korean Web Novel Contest co-hosted by Munpia and the Korean Popular Literature Writers Association. The author received a total of 105 million KRW (~$76,000), a plaque, and other special benefits.

Image 2. Yoo Ryeo Han (right) posing for the Grand Prize winner photo. The old woman in the left is either the author's relative or a contest holder representative.

“When I first started writing, it was a very difficult time for me, both physically and mentally, so when I heard about this contest, I decided to participate,” said Yoo Ryeo Han, the author of “I Became the Trash of the Count’s Family”, the grand prize-winning story, ”I won a great prize through this contest and it was a turning point in my life. I am grateful to Munpia for providing such a great opportunity.” Source: Munpia. (2018, July 31). Munpia Holds the 4th South Korean Web Novel Contest Award Ceremony. NewsWire.co.kr.https://www.newswire.co.kr/newsRead.php?no=873212

July 30, 2018

The novel was serialized on Naver Series, a Korean web novel platform.

September ??, 2018

WuxiaWorld, an English web novel translation publisher, began an English fan translation of the novel under the title “Trash of the Count’s Family” with MiracleRifle as the translator.

October 2, 2018

The novel was serialized on RIDI, a Korean web novel and ebook publisher.

October 15, 2018

The novel was serialized on KakaoPage, a Korean web novel platform.

October 18, 2018

The author announced a temporary hiatus because her mother had an accident, so she had to take care of her mother who would be undergoing surgery.

October 26, 2018

The novel was serialized on Joara, a Korean web novel platform.

October 29, 2018

The author announced a temporary change of the release schedule from 6 chapters per week (Mon-Sat) to 5 chapters per week (Mon-Fri) for 3 weeks. This was because she wanted to devote more time to taking care of her mother whose surgery went well. She also thanked her readers who left well wishes for her and her mother.

November 29, 2018

The author announced a 1-day hiatus because she had to take care of her mother’s hospital paperwork and stuff.

2019

January 2, 2019

The author announced a 1-day hiatus because she caught a cold. She also wished her fans a Happy New Year.

January 22, 2019

The author announced a temporary change of the release schedule from 6 chapters per week (Mon-Sat) to 5 chapters per week (Mon-Fri) for the next 2-3 months. She stated it was because of a temporary change in her work environment.

March 8, 2019

The author posted a brief character profile on Munpia.

Link: https://novel.munpia.com/113612/page/1/neSrl/2290020

April 1, 2019

The author announced that she would maintain the 5 chapters per week release schedule. She said that her mother’s full recovery and rehabilitation kept getting delayed, and there were also some personal matters, so she needed 2 days off a week.

May 29, 2019

The author announced a 1-day hiatus because of health reasons.

June 14, 2019

The author announced a 5-day hiatus because of headache and fever. She went to the hospital to get herself checked, and was diagnosed with meningitis.

July 4, 2019

The release schedule was permanently changed from 6 chapters per week (Mon-Sat) to 5 chapters per week (Mon-Fri). The author said that she wanted to improve her health as the previous release schedule tired her out.

August 13, 2019

The author announced a 1-day hiatus because of health reasons.

September 16, 2019

The author announced a 4-day hiatus because of health reasons.

November 11, 2019

The author announced a 3-day hiatus because of personal reasons and body aches.

December 17, 2019

The 2nd cover illustration of the novel was released, featuring Cale, Choi Han, Raon, Ohn, and Hong.

Image 3. The second cover illustration of the novel.

December 31, 2019

The author greeted her readers a happy new year, and also joked about her wrong estimation of the novel ending soon in 500 chapters.

2020

January 17, 2020

The author posted a note in celebration of the novel’s 500th chapter. She answered a few fan questions, and insisted that her dream was not to be a slacker.

January 29, 2020

The author announced a 1-day hiatus because of a stomach ache. She also greeted her readers who recently celebrated the Lunar New Year holiday.

February 19, 2020

The author announced a 1-day hiatus because of health reasons.

April 17, 2020

The author announced a 1-day hiatus because of difficulty in writing. She said that she was suffering from pain in her lower back, wrist, and fingers, making it hard for her to type on her right hand.

April 24, 2020

The author announced a 5-day hiatus because of health reasons.

June 2, 2020

The author announced a month-long hiatus because of family circumstances, which left her in not a good mood for writing.

June 29, 2020

The author announced a 1-month hiatus because of family circumstances. She stated that one of her family members was sick, and this was a very long-term battle, so she wanted to stay by their side until they had fully recovered.

August 5, 2020

The release schedule was permanently changed from 5 chapters per week (Mon-Fri) to 3 chapters per week (MWF). This was in relation to her sick family member’s situation last June 29.

August 26, 2020

Copin Comics, a Korean webtoon publisher and studio, first announced its webtoon adaptation of the novel.

August 31, 2020

Season 1 of the webtoon adaptation of the novel was released on KakaoPage and Copin Comics’s own website, with PAN4 as the artist.

October 28, 2020

The official English title, “Lout of Count’s Family”, made its first appearance in the event prizes given by RIDI. These prizes were stickers and cell phone ring holders featuring Raon, Ohn, and Hong. One needed to purchase 30,000 KRW worth of chapters to qualify for the event.

Image 4. The stickers and cell phone ring holders given in the event.

November 5, 2020

WuxiaWorld announced that it would cease its fan translations of the novel because the author herself turned down their offer to officially translate the novel in English, despite the fact that WuxiaWorld and Chungeoram were in the middle of negotiations.

Eat Apple Pies, a fan translation site, continued the English fan translation of the novel, with permission from MiracleRifle to host in their site the already-translated chapters that were in WuxiaWorld.

November 6, 2020

Adar Terra, a personal blog, began posting English chapter summaries of the novel starting from Part 1 Chapter 630.

December 15, 2020

Copin Comics released the official English translation of the webtoon adaptation under the title, “Lout of Count’s Family” on its English website.

2021

January 4, 2021

The author announced a 1-day hiatus because of personal reasons.

January 11, 2021

The novel won 2nd place in the 2020 Best Awards of Munpia.

Link: https://www.munpia.com/page/bestawards2020f

January 26, 2021

The author announced a month-long hiatus because of family, health, and personal reasons.

April 4, 2021

TappyToon, an English webtoon publisher, also released the official English translation of the webtoon adaptation on their website.

April 30, 2021

The author announced a 1-day hiatus because of personal reasons.

May 3, 2021

The author announced a 1-day hiatus because of personal reasons.

May 14, 2021

The 3rd cover illustration was released for the novel, featuring Cale and Kim Rok Soo.

Image 5. The third cover illustration of the novel.

May 28, 2021

Season 1 of the webtoon adaptation of the novel ended.

May 31, 2021

The author posted a note in celebration of the novel’s 700th chapter. She also hinted that she was working on a paperback version of the novel.

June 14, 2021

COWON started a crowdfunding event on Tumblbug, a Korean crowdfunding platform, for a Korean mobile game adaptation of the novel, with the game title of “Plop”. Various official merchandise could also be obtained, depending on which item set the sponsor would purchase. Merchandise included in-game coupons and items, stickers, postcards, and acrylic stands.

Image 6. Preview of the mobile game adaptation.

Image 7. Acrylic stands of Alberu, Cale, and Choi Han given to sponsors who sponsored more than 65,000 KRW ($47.10).

Link: https://tumblbug.com/plop_story

June 15, 2021

The author announced a 3-day hiatus because of health reasons.

July 26, 2021

The crowdfunding event ended with 376 sponsors, raising 33,763,000 KRW (~$25,500) and surpassing its funding goal of 20,000,000 KRW.

September 17, 2021

Season 2 of the webtoon adaptation of the novel began.

October 7, 2021

The author announced a 4-day hiatus because she lost her laptop while outside and spent her time looking for it. Fortunately, she recovered her laptop back.

November 1, 2021

The Korean mobile game “Plop” was released by COWON. It followed a Visual Novel (VN) approach with dating simulation elements. Players could select different stories to play with, and these stories were mobile game adaptations of popular Korean novels. Lout of Count’s Family was one of the stories a player could select. Plop could only be downloaded on QooApp, and was Korean-only.

November 29, 2021

Part 1 of the novel ended at Chapter 776. It was also announced that 7 side stories would be released at the end of every month, and Part 2 of the novel would begin on July 1, 2022.

December 31, 2021

The 1st of 7 side stories of the novel was released.

The novel won the Grand Prize in the Fantasy Web Novel category at the 2021 RIDI Web Novel Awards. Link: https://ridibooks.com/event/37133

2022

February 2, 2022

An English version of the mobile game “Plop” was released under the title, “IFyou:episodes-love stories”, by PIER Corporation. The English mobile game adaptation of the novel could be played if one selected the “Lout of Count’s Family” story.

Image 8. Promotional image of the game showing the multiple stories one could play with.

February 4, 2022

Pocket Comics, an English webtoon publisher, released the official English translation of the webtoon adaptation on their website.

February ??, 2022

Bilibili Comics, an English webtoon publisher, released the official English translation of the webtoon adaptation on their website.

April 9, 2022

A special side story was released to celebrate the 4th anniversary of the novel’s serialization.

May 11, 2022

Chungeoram announced a crowdfunding event for the Korean hardcover books of the novel, beginning on June 13 and covering Part 1 Chapters 1-200 in 5 volumes.

Link: https://blog.naver.com/chungeoram_book/222726296248

June 13, 2022

The crowdfunding event began on Tumblbug. Various official merchandise could also be obtained, depending on which item set the sponsor would purchase. Merchandise included posters, postcards, washi tapes, etc.

Image 9. Preview of the hardcover versions of the novel, and two posters featuring Cale and Choi Han.

Link: https://tumblbug.com/henituse

July 1, 2022

Part 2 of the novel began.

July 15, 2022

The crowdfunding event ended with 4,785 sponsors, raising 788,666,000 KRW (~$596,000) and surpassing its funding goal of 15,000,000 KRW.

July 19, 2022

Copin Comics renamed itself as Terapin Studios. Their English branch continued to be called Copin Comics.

August 4, 2022

Season 2 of the webtoon adaptation of the novel ended.

August 31, 2022

Sponsors of the crowdfunding event began to receive their hardcover books and official merchandise.

October 14, 2022

Copin Comics, the English branch of Terapin Studios, announced that it would be shut down by November 30. The official English translation of the webtoon adaptation would be continued by TappyToons.

November 30, 2022

Copin Comics officially shut down. Terapin Studios continued its service as the Korean webtoon publisher and studio for the webtoon adaptation of the novel.

December 20, 2022

The author announced a week-long hiatus because of health reasons.

December ??, 2022

Plop, the Korean mobile game adaptation of the novel, was terminated.

2023

January 27, 2023

LaLatoon, an English webtoon publisher, released the official English translation of the webtoon adaptation on their website.

March 29, 2023

The author announced an almost 2-weeks long hiatus because of personal reasons.

March 31, 2023

IFyou:episodes-love stories, the English mobile game adaptation of the novel, was terminated. PIER Corporation stated that it was because they could no longer afford to pay server maintenance and labor costs.

April 18, 2023

Adar Terra announced that it would discontinue posting summaries for the novel after receiving a DMCA notice from RIDI who asserted that writing summaries itself was illegal.

June 5, 2023

The author announced a week-long hiatus because of personal reasons.

July 13, 2023

Season 3 of the webtoon adaptation of the novel began.

July 31, 2023

RIDI announced that it would release a Korean ebook adaptation of the novel on August 21. They also held a RIDI-exclusive event on July 31 to August 2 where fans could ask the author their questions.

Link: https://ridibooks.com/event/57453

August 21, 2023

RIDI released Volumes 1-5 of the Korean ebook adaptation, covering chapters 1-117 of Part 1. They also had a limited-time event where those who purchased Volumes 1-5 as a set would get discounts plus an Author Q&A as exclusive content. The Author Q&A had 26 questions answered by the author, and was based on the fan questions they gathered in their past event on July 31.

Image 10. Cover of the Author Q&A released as a RIDI-only exclusive content.

August 31, 2023

The author announced a 1-day hiatus because she caught COVID-19.

September 3, 2023

Tapas, an English webtoon publisher, released their official English translation of the webtoon adaptation on their website.

September 15, 2023

RIDI released Volumes 6-9 of the Korean ebook adaptation, covering chapters 118-200 of Part 1. They also had a limited-time event where those who purchased Volumes 6-9 as a set would get discounts.

October 20, 2023

The author posted a note in celebration of the novel’s 1000th chapter. She thanked her readers and also joked about the novel reaching 2000 chapters.

December 29, 2023

The Korean ebook adaptation of the novel won the Grand Prize in the Fantasy ebook category at the 2023 RIDI Awards.

2024

January 24, 2024

Bilibili Comics announced that it would be shut down by February 29.

February 29, 2024

Bilibili Comics officially shut down. The official English translation of the webtoon adaptation remained on the other webtoon publishers.

March 3, 2024

DAYcomics, an English webtoon publisher, released the official English translation of the webtoon adaptation on their website.

March 8, 2024

Lezhin, an English webtoon publisher, released the official English translation of the webtoon adaptation on their website.

March 18, 2024

RIDI released Volumes 10-18 of the Korean ebook adaptation, covering chapters 201-398 of Part 1. They also had a limited-time event where those who purchased Volumes 10-18 as a set would get discounts plus an LCF Modern AU Character Checklist as exclusive content. The checklist had 39 situations that described which character would likely be fit or do something in that situation, but in a modern alternate universe (AU) setting. Two new cover illustrations for the ebook adaptation were also included.

Images 11 and 12. On the left is the new cover illustration for ebook volumes 1-9, featuring Cale alone. On the right is the cover illustration for ebook volumes 10-18, featuring Cale and Raon.

March 27, 2024

Seven Seas Entertainment, an English novel publisher, announced that it had acquired the license to officially translate the novel in English, under the title, “Lout of Count’s Family”. It would be released in September of 2024 in paperback and ebook versions.

July 11, 2024

Season 3 of the webtoon adaptation of the novel ended.

August 24, 2024

Seven Seas Entertainment announced that it would release an English audiobook version of the official English translation of the novel. No release date had been given.

September 3, 2024

Seven Seas Entertainment released volume 1 of the novel's official English translation in paperback and ebook versions. It was also revealed that Seven Seas bought MiracleRifle’s fan translation to use in their official translation, and credited MiracleRifle in their print details.

Image 13. Cover illustration for volume 1 of the English adaptation of the novel.

November 7, 2024

Seven Seas Entertainment released Volume 1 of the official English audio book. It was narrated by Nick Martineau and produced by John Marshall Media.

November 29, 2024

The author announced a month-long hiatus to rest after the surgery she underwent.

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Coming Soon:

December 3, 2024

Volume 2 of the official English novel translation will be released on this date.

March 4, 2025

Volume 3 of the official English novel translation would be released on this date.

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Personal Remarks:

Creating this list was quite a huge task for me. It also made me appreciate the author's hard work, given that she had to write the novel while having family and health problems.

This list was limited to the Korean and English-speaking audiences because finding information about official translations of the novel or webtoon adaptation in other languages was difficult, especially researching the exact dates.

Some personal bias was also involved in the creation of this list. Adar Terra should actually not be included here because it was a fandom thing and not an official one. Unless you count me getting the DMCA notice from the official publisher as an "official" thing. 😂

And that's it. This list will continue to be updated as more official events happen. If you know of other official events related to the novel that I missed, please share it in the comments! Thank you! 🥰

#lout of count's family #lout of the count’s family #trash of the count's family #lcf #tcf #백작가의 망나니�� 되었다 #lcf history #tcf history

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justagalwhowrites · 21 days ago

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The Savage and the Sanctuary - Ch. 4: Past and Present

Being in Los Angeles is a challenge - and an opportunity - for you and Joel. A continuation of The Savage and the Sanctuary, a no outbreak TLOU story, from the prologue through chapter 2 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

CW: Depiction of someone experiencing a trigger. Remembered child death. No use of Y/N. Whole fic will be explicit so minors DNI, 18+ only.

Length: 12.6k

Fic Masterlist | Masterlist | AO3 | Prologue | Previous Chapter

September 26, 2019

“Joel.”

The sound of his brother’s voice pulled him out of his own head. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been there, half sitting, half leaning against the window ledge, staring at his daughter’s body. The blood on his skin was drying now, starting to flake off in some places and get caught on the hair of his arms and chest in others. It pulled slightly when he moved, an odd sensation that tied him to his body in a way he could hardly stand.

It was still dark outside, which made sense. He wasn’t sure the sun was going to rise. Such a thing seemed impossible now, that the earth would still be turning at a time like this.

“Did you hear me?” Tommy asked, coming and standing next to him.

It took him a moment to process that question. Tommy sounded so far away, like he was speaking to him above water while Joel was deep below it.

That would be a welcome change, he thought. Then he could just open his mouth and pull all that water into his lungs and never have to breathe or think or be ever again.

He couldn’t do that here. The window behind him couldn’t even open – he’d tried. Just to see if he could get some fresh air, he told himself. The fact that he was 10 stories up, that the fall would almost certainly kill him, was just a fringe benefit.

He couldn’t keep going like this, he knew that already. He kept picturing it in his head, over and over and over again.

Him and Tommy leaving the bar. Tommy driving him home. Stopping a few blocks away from his house, finding the car a tangled mass of metal in the street.

He’d just frowned at first, things not quite clicking. There was something familiar about the car, something that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

“Jesus,” Tommy said, pulling over and getting out his cell phone, already moving to call 9-1-1. “Be a miracle if anyone survived that…”

Joel saw it then, the bumper sticker on the back of the sedan. Red with white lettering, “Blow it hard & finger it fast” with a clarinet in the middle. He remembered it because, the first time he saw it, he told Sarah he didn’t think that kind of bumper sticker was appropriate for a teenaged girl’s car.

“Dad,” she’d rolled her eyes. “It’s just a joke. Emma plays clarinet, don’t be so lame.”

He’d just sighed and dropped it. It’s not like he could tell the girl to take it off, she wasn’t his daughter. Besides, what trouble was one bumper sticker?

He knew that bumper sticker. Sarah had gotten in the car with that bumper sticker this morning. The car with that bumper sticker was supposed to be taking her home.

Joel was out of the truck before he really knew what he was doing, running toward the accident as fast as he could, praying that Sarah was already safely at the house, that Emma had dropped her off and was going home herself when she was hit.

“Joel!” Tommy yelled after him, getting out of the car, too. “What…”

��That’s Sarah’s friend’s car!” He yelled back to his brother, making it to the passenger side door – the side with the worst of the damage – swearing up and down to every god he’d ever known that he would do anything – anything they asked, anything at all – if that seat was empty, if Sarah was safely at home waiting for him.

His prayers went unanswered.

“No,” Joel breathed, his heart pounding. He pulled at the door but it wouldn’t move, locked shut. He went to the back seat and threw himself against the window until the spidering glass caved. He thrust his arm inside, ignoring the cuts from the glass on his skin, fumbling for the handle until he forced the warped door open. He wasn’t sure where to touch her, a bloody splotch on her stomach that seemed to be spreading. One of her arms was at an odd angle, one of her legs too. But she was breathing, almost hyperventilating, her eyes closed, one hand tight to her stomach. “You’re OK baby girl, you’re OK, just move your hand for me, just…”

“Dad?” She opened her eyes, wide and afraid. “Dad, I…”

“I know,” he said quickly, fighting to keep his voice calm. “I know, I know, just move your hand baby girl, just…”

She pulled her trembling palm away from her stomach and he saw the wound, a chunk of metal embedded into her skin so deep he could barely see it. She reached for him, the blood on her hand soaking into his shirt so he could feel it on his skin.

“You’re gonna be OK,” he said, looking from her stomach to her face. “It’s OK, you’re gonna be OK.”

He had to stop the bleeding. He unbuckled her seatbelt so he could get clearer access to her and pressed his hand into her stomach, making her cry out.

“I know,” he said. “I know it hurts, I know baby, I know. Just gotta hang on for me, OK? Just hang on, you’re gonna be OK.”

Her fingers twisted in the collar of his shirt and she pulled herself against him. He could smell the blood and gasoline and smoke. He had to move her, before a fire started and made this worse he had to get her away from here.

“Just hold on,” he said. “I gotta move you…” He pulled her tight against his body and she screamed, her shallow breaths coming quicker. “I know baby girl, I know, I know, it hurts, I know, I just…”

He looked behind him to find Tommy, hoping to have some idea of when help was coming. But his brother was just standing there, watching Joel, a broken look on his face.

“Tommy,” Joel looked at him, holding Sarah as tight as he could to his chest. Her blood was warm on his skin. “Tommy, help me!”

“Joel,” he said softly. “I… I can’t, I’m sorry, there’s nothing…”

His eyes were on Sarah and Joel realized, suddenly, that she was quiet.

He looked down to her and she had gone still in his arms, her head lolling back lifelessly. Her fingers weren’t clutching his shirt anymore, she wasn’t crying. She wasn’t even breathing.

“No,” he said, his grip on her tightening. “No, no, no, no, no! C’mon baby girl, you’re OK, you’re gonna be OK, you’re…”

He looked back to his brother, Tommy crying silently. There had to be something he could do, something one of them could do.

But there wasn’t. Joel just clung to his daughter’s body until the police and EMTs came, a paramedic pulling her body from his arms before trying to revive her.

It was no use.

Joel stayed with her on the ambulance ride to the hospital. No lights, no sirens, no racing through the streets. There was just quiet as he looked at the sheet that covered his only child, the little girl he’d held when she first came into the world, the one who had wrapped one tiny, perfect hand around his finger when she was just hours old.

She was still there, just a few feet away from him. He’d refused to let them take her to the morgue, the outline of her visible through the sheet. He needed to be next to her as long as possible, he couldn’t let them just take her away and put her somewhere cold and dark. He needed to be next to her, take care of her.

They left him alone with her when he made it clear he wasn’t going to just let them take her away from him. Tommy took over then, talking with police and people at the hospital. Joel wasn’t sure why he bothered.

What did any of this matter without her?

Joel cleared his throat, Tommy still watching him cautiously.

“No,” he said. “M’sorry. What’s happenin’?”

“Said I got some news,” he said. “Some good. Sounds like Emma’s gonna make it, her parents are here…”

Joel nodded. Part of him knew he should feel good about that but he was having a hard time doing it. Of course it was good that another child hadn’t died but fuck, he hated how much he’d do anything - including sacrifice that other child - to bring his own back.

“What else,” Joel said when Tommy didn’t continue.

“Well,” he said before he sighed and crossed his arms. “Sounds like we know the car that hit ‘em…”

Joel stood up straight then, suddenly alert, ready to take care of it. Whoever it was had been in good enough shape to drive away from the scene which meant they were probably still alive. He’d change that. He’d like changing that.

“They got some video from security cameras and shit nearby,” he said. “Some SUV just barreling through, swervin’ all over the road, probably drunk but…”

He trailed off.

“But?” Joel asked, his voice dark.

“But,” Tommy said again. “The plate they pulled was reported stolen three days ago, they got no idea who’s driving it. That asshole ditches the car, they got no way of finding ‘em.”

“What’s that mean?” Joel asked, looking toward where Sarah lay, still and cold under the sheet. “Are they not gonna even fuckin’ look?”

“No, they’re lookin’,” Tommy said, putting his hand on Joel’s shoulder. “Just… not sure what they’ll be able to actually find.”

Joel clenched his jaw, his arms crossed, fingers digging almost painfully into his biceps, his eyes never leaving the place where is daughter lay.

If the police wouldn’t get justice, fine, he would. He’d find it and he’d take it. He’d find it and he’d take it from anyone who deserved it. As long as it protected someone who needed it, he didn’t care if it killed him.

October, 2024

There was an Oscar in his closet.

He stood there, the t-shirts from his duffle dangling from his hand, staring at the smudged and dusty but still glimmering gold of the statuette sitting in the middle of a high shelf at the back.

There was a fucking Oscar in his closet.

Was this your idea of a joke? Were you trying to be fucking funny, leaving it here for him to find?

He went to it, setting the shirts on top of the chest of drawers before getting the statue down. It was high enough that he had to stretch to reach it, and he was almost surprised when his fingers closed around cool metal. He’d half expected it to be fake, some plastic bullshit you’d put there to try to taunt him in some way, but if it was a fake, it was a damn good one. It was metal and far heavier than he was expecting as he pulled it down to examine it. You’d set it so it was facing the wall and he turned it over to see the front of it, a plaque on the base.

Your name was engraved on it, as well as “Academy Award” and “Best Performance by an Actress in a Leading Role” and “The District.”

It’s not like he knew a goddamn thing about things like Oscars but this seemed real. And as much pleasure as you seemed to take in annoying - or even just puzzling - him, Joel couldn’t come up with a reason why you’d go through the trouble of making a fake one to stick in his closet for whatever reason.

You’d just… left your Oscar in his closet.

A while ago, from the look of the damn thing. Upon closer inspection, it was obvious it had been sitting there for awhile. It was tarnished in places and dust had settled heavily into the crevices. It didn’t seem like someone had moved it here recently. It seemed like you’d just put it here one day and left it for him to find years later.

He just shook his head a little, going and dropping the statuette on the bed - the thing bouncing heavily before settling into the mattress - before unpacking the rest of his bag.

He’d only been in LA a few hours and he already missed Texas.

You’d been mobbed at the airport, swarms of photographers descending on you as you left the secured area.

Here, at least, security and police seemed to expect this behavior. Celebrities flew in and out all the time, and it didn’t take much for Joel to usher you through the crowd, your chin tucked into your chest, your carryon bag over your arm.

A car with a driver was waiting for you and the two of you went straight for it, you climbing in first and Joel sliding it next to you, snapping the door shut as quickly as he could. But, as badly as he wanted to get away from the chaos of this place, he was surprised when the car started moving almost immediately.

“They’ll deliver the luggage to the house,” you said, apparently reading his mind. “Not exactly smart to just stand there at baggage claim and wait for it as I’m sure you can imagine.”

He scoffed at that, crossing his arms and settling into his corner of the back seat of whatever fucking luxury SUV this was.

“Someone just takes care of everything for you, don’t they?” He asked, probably sharper than he should have.

You laughed once, derisively.

“Something like that.”

In truth, this whole thing made him uncomfortable. He was in a place he didn’t know, one full of people who were obsessed with his charge - not just whoever was stalking you but the whole of the world, it seemed - and he didn’t even have his fucking gun.

He planted his feet more firmly on the floor of the car before texting Tommy that the two of you had made it to LA and were en route to your house.

You relaxed more, now that it was just you, Joel, and an oddly silent driver. You just watched out the window, the streetlights casting a glow on your skin as the car made its way slowly through the gridlock of Los Angeles. Joel ground his teeth, his whole body drawn tight and tense, waiting for some release after the chaos of the airport set him on edge.

But none came, the driver eventually pulling up to a surprisingly modest house in nice neighborhood.

He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting but it was more than this - a house that looked not much bigger than his own back in Austin. Unlike your place back in Texas that sat on several acres and had no immediate neighbors, there were other houses close to yours on this quiet street. It wasn’t a gated community, there was no full fence around the place, it was just a suburban house on a suburban street.

Joel followed you inside, the lights on and jazz playing somewhere. He frowned, looking around, half expecting someone to come out and greet you.

No one did, though, and he just hovered in the entry way, watching as you set down your bag and lit candles.

“Can I help you?” You asked after a moment, your brows raised.

“No,” he said, a little defensive. But you didn’t move, just raised your brows further and he sighed. “This place just… ain’t what I was expecting.”

“Oh,” you said, relaxing a little. “Before I had Ellie, it was just me, I didn’t need anything insane. When I moved to Texas, I just wanted a place where Ellie would have plenty of space and want to invite her friends to.”

Joel nodded slowly.

“That’s… nice.”

You shrugged.

“Your room is down the hall,” you said. “There are only three bedrooms here, I’m not sure which of the spares they set up for you but one should be made up. They stocked the kitchen, too, but there’s no one here all the time like Esmo is so you’ll have to look after yourself. Just… make yourself at home.”

The luggage was delivered not long after - his gun safely inside - and Joel went to get settled in when he found the damn Oscar.

It stared him down as he talked with Tommy about logistics, about exactly what the hell he was getting into out here.

“There’s fuckin’ nothing here infrastructure wise,” Joel said, his foot bouncing impatiently. The statuette rolled into his side as he sat on the bed and he glared at it before moving it to a bookshelf covered in impersonal knick knacks that sat opposite the bed. “Not even a goddamn chain link fence between the front door and the street, Tommy.”

“Yeah, well, I told you it was a different set up,” he said, at least having the dignity to sound sheepish as he did.

“Different,” Joel said. “Not a security risk.”

“She’s kept where she lives pretty private and you have the resources you need to handle it. You’ve got the driver,” Tommy said. “And the auxiliary guards outside. And you know what you’re doing. You’ll be fine.”

Once they were off the phone, Tommy sent Joel a roundup of tabloid coverage about your arrival to LA and, once he got past the surreal moment of seeing pictures of himself online like that, he tried to analyze what he was seeing. Speculation was rampant about where you’d been, screenshots of tweets sharing photos of you - or someone people thought was you - scattered throughout the coverage.

People seemed to have pinpointed the reason you were back in LA but no one seemed to know why you’d left or where, exactly, you’d been. He sighed, staring at the picture of him walking behind you, trying to shield you from camera flashes as much as possible.

What the hell was he getting into?

He was exhausted but it took him a while to fall asleep in the too comfortable bed, your Oscar watching him from the shelf nearby.

So it was a rude awakening when he was jerked back into consciousness by a twangy guitar. It took him a moment to realize where he was, still dark outside, but the music loud enough that he heard the rattle of the lightbulb in the lamp by his bed.

“What the…” he forced himself up, grabbing is gun and loading it before moving quickly but cautiously toward the main part of the house, the music growing louder as he went.

“And it didn’t take ‘em long to decide, that Earl had to die!”

You were more yelling the lyrics than actually singing them and Joel found you in the kitchen with a blonde woman who was also singing, the two of you jumping around like you were at a fucking concert at six in the goddamn morning.

“You’re feelin’ weak?” The two of you sang at each other, you using the handle of a spatula as a microphone. “Why don’t you lay down and sleep, Earl?”

He rolled his eyes, lowering the gun.

“Hey!” He yelled over the music.

The two of you stopped and turned to face him, both of you in skintight athletic wear and covered in a sheen of sweat. You laughed and winced and reached out and tapped some touch screen, making the music stop.

“The hell are you doin’?” He asked, looking you over and trying to ignore how fucking good you looked right then.

“Babe,” the woman - who Joel suddenly realized he knew, a singer that Sarah had been obsessed with - leaned over and half whispered, half said to you. “There’s a shirtless man with a gun in your kitchen.”

“Yeah, that’d be Big Miller,” you said, looking him up and down. “Shirtless but pajama pants? Interesting, totally thought you’d be a boxers and nothing else guy…”

He narrowed his eyes.

“What’s a Big Miller?” The woman asked, her blonde ponytail reaching almost to her waist.

“My bodyguard,” you said. “He’s a bit over the top, though because, really? A gun? Come on.”

“You’re the one who’s got some psycho writin’ her letters,” he snapped. “The hell was I supposed to know it was you acting like a fucking teenager?”

“This isn’t a teenager thing,” you said. “This is a ‘your friend just go dumped so you sing about murdering him and then running away to start a small business’ thing. Which you wouldn’t understand because you have no friends.”

“Jesus,” he muttered. “Why are you up this early? I got your itinerary, you don’t have anywhere to be until ten.”

“Well actually, we have a pap walk in about,” you looked at your smart watch. “Forty-five minutes. Which is why Tanya is here. By the way, Tanya, that’s Big Miller but you can call him Joel if you really want.”

She looked at him from head to toe and then shrugged before looking at you.

“I’m single again,” she said. “I’d be down to find out just how big Miller is…”

He looked quickly between the two of you and then the two of you laughed, practically falling over, hanging on each other to stay upright.

“The look on your face!” You were still laughing, gasping for breath. “Oh my God!”

“That’s not funny,” he scowled.

“No, it’s hilarious,” Tanya said, straightening up. “Who knew we were such a threat?”

“Oh, shit,” you said, turning to the stove and doing something Joel couldn’t see with a pan. “Almost burned it… Want some egg whites, Big Miller?”

“What?” He asked. “No, I…” He looked between the two of you again. “Did you work out?”

“Oh, yeah,” you said, looking back over your shoulder toward him. “We went for a run.”

“Went?” He asked. “Went where.”

“Just a few miles around the neighborhood,” Tanya waved him off. “Nothing crazy.”

He put the gun down on the counter with a little too much force.

“You went out without me?” He stalked over to you. “The hell were you thinking!”

“That I needed to go for a run,” you said, brows raised, incredulous. “And it’s best to go before the sun is up because then it’s too hot.”

“Do you really think you’re safe here?” He asked. “That the guy who’s been sending shit to your house just ain’t gonna come by when everyone on the fuckin’ planet knows you got here last night?”

“I think this whole thing is overblown and that there isn’t a threat,” you said. “And Ellie isn’t here so it doesn’t really matter, does it?”

“It’s really not bad,” Tanya said, looking between the two of you. “It’s a quiet neighborhood, no paparazzi or fans or anything…”

“But we do have that pap walk in a few,” you said, pulling the egg whites off the burner and tipping them onto plates. “And we still need to drive there.”

“The fuck is a pap walk,” Joel asked, looking between the two of you.

“Oh, it’s where we tell the paparazzi where we’ll be and when we’ll be there so they can grab their photos,” Tanya said. “In exchange, they don’t follow us all the time. With the two of us there, there’s going to be a lot of them.”

“And were you planning to say anything about this?” Joel asked, incredulous. “Or were you just gonna take off without telling your fuckin’ security team?”

“You seem mad,” you said, spearing some eggs on the end of your fork.

“I seem mad,” Joel said, grinding his teeth, his eyes narrowing.

“You seem mad,” you again, eating the eggs. “You should work on that.”

He clenched his jaw, trying to resist the urge to yell before stalking off to his room to get dressed. Because if he was going with you on this fucking pap walk or whatever the fuck it was called, he’d need to be dressed.

The whole thing was a surprisingly simple affair. He followed behind you and Tanya with one of the auxiliary guards, a man named Nick who’d been camped in front of your house, to some smoothie place in the city.

He watched as the two of you got out of Tanya’s car, laughing and touching each other as you angled your bodies toward the flashing cameras while pretending like they weren’t there. It was a strange dance, Joel sitting in the car with his nails digging into his palm, his jaw clenched tight, the sense that he should be between you and the photographers you were putting on some strange performance for all but taking over. His heart raced, his chest getting tight. He was so out of control in this situation, you were so far away from him that there was very little he could do to reach you if he needed to.

Yes, the whole thing was - relatively - safe. It was early, there was almost no one here but you, the paparazzi and a few other overly dedicated men and women in workout gear. He’d texted Tommy while he got dressed and Tommy assured him that he’d gone over this with your manager, that this was fairly typical and that, no, Joel shouldn’t go inside with you but it didn’t make him any less uneasy.

What if something happened, right now? What if the man who’d been sending you letters found you here? What if something else happened like a shooting or a robbery or any number of other, mundane evils that happened every day? He’d be too far away to get to you in time, too far away to save you and, for some reason, that terrified him.

He’d just decided to ignore you and his brother and your damn manager and go after you, anyway, when you and Tanya came outside again, clear plastic cups filled with green shit in your hands. Joel took a deep breath then, trying to calm himself down.

But then, a paparazzo darted forward, camera raised, getting in your face, making you flinch back. A thrill of fear shot through him, the feeling shocking and foreign now. He was too far from you, he couldn’t get to you fast enough from here. He was supposed to be keeping you safe, he didn’t have much left he felt like he had to do in this life but that was one of them and, right here, right now, he could fail.

Joel moved quickly, throwing open the door and starting for you, but your eyes met his and you gave a subtle shake of your head, navigating around the photographer and moving quickly for the car, the illusion of you ignoring them shattered.

Tanya drove quickly and Joel’s car followed, the only thing keeping him from beating the shit out of that photographer the fact that you were only getting further away from him.

Joel slammed the door behind him as he stalked into your house to find you, standing in the kitchen, scrolling through your phone.

“I got you a smoothie,” you said, glancing up for a second and looking back at your phone before you frowned and actually looked at him. “Are you OK?”

“You are not doing that shit again, understand?” He snapped.

“Not… getting you a smoothie?” You asked.

“You know what the hell I mean,” he said. “You can’t just go off on your own like that, I don’t give a shit what your manager says, I don’t care how fuckin’ typical it is, you’re staying close to me. End of story.”

You watched him for a moment before you smiled, looking like you were trying not to laugh.

“What.”

“You were worried,” you said. “Big Miller, afraid! Who knew it was possible…”

“I was not afraid,” he said, probably too quickly. “I just don’t want you dying on my damn watch. If you’re outside, I’m next to you. Deal with it.”

He stalked off to his bedroom, your stupid Oscar there in his face when got there. He grabbed it and went back to the kitchen, smacking it down on the counter, making you jump.

“I don’t need you to remind me how fuckin’ great you are,” he said. “Put that in your damn trophy case. And don’t leave this house without me.”

He retreated to his room and heard your shower start a few minutes later and he felt like he could relax then. He wouldn’t put it past you to try and sneak out of your own fucking house, just to spite him. If you weren’t careful, your obsession with being right and being in control was going to get you fucking killed.

He tried not to think about how uneasy that thought made him.

Joel stayed in his room, listening for you as you moved through the house, until it was almost time to leave for your first appointment of the day, some lunch with your agent. He found you in the kitchen again, the Oscar nowhere to be seen.

Your hair and makeup were done and you were wearing jeans and some shirt that looked more like a corset or some kind of lingerie and it forced Joel to notice just how fucking beautiful you were.

It still caught him off guard, these moments where he couldn’t avoid that cold fact. You were beautiful, unquestionably so, but he’d grown blind to it in certain ways. He was around you all the time now so it was a fact that faded to the background more often than not. Especially since, most of the time he saw you, you weren’t trying to be beautiful, you were just existing in the form you had.

Now, though, you were clearly trying and it hit him hard. The sculpture of your face, the glow of your skin, the curve of your body was right there, impossible to ignore.

“Am I allowed to leave the house now?” You asked, an almost smug look on your face.

“No,” Joel said, more to be an asshole than anything else.

“You’re insufferable,” you said, ignoring him and stalking toward the door, the spikes of your heels loud on the hardwood floor, throwing a leather jacket on over your all too exposing top. “The driver’s here, are you coming or not.”

You were silent beside him until the pair of you got into the gridlock of the city.

“You’ll have to wait in the car,” you began but he cut you off.

“Absolutely not,” he said.

You looked at him, a stern expression on your face.

“There are going to be photographers there,” you said. “I’ve already been seen with you at the airport, I really don’t need someone making up some bullshit story about why you’re with me if we’re trying to keep the extra security bit quiet.”

“Too bad,” he shrugged. “Your optics aren’t my concern. Your safety is.”

“Because I’m sure people at the fucking Ivy are such a threat,” you snapped.

“We either do this the easy way or the hard way,” he said. “The easy way is I come inside with you and you can say I’m a friend or some asshole on your team, I don’t really care. The other way is I put you over my shoulder and haul your ass back to the car because you don’t listen. Don’t make much difference to me.”

“Why do you hate me so much?” You twisted to face him now, your painfully beautiful face tight in anger. “What did I ever do to you?”

“I’m just trying to do my job,” he replied. “Don’t make it difficult and we won’t have a problem.”

“Fine,” you sat back in your seat forcefully. “Come inside then, just don’t come crying to me when the press starts to bother you.”

He resisted the urge to smirk. He might be in your territory but that didn’t mean he was just going to let you win every damn conflict.

The car dropped you off in front of the restaurant and the photographers were waiting for you. Joel watched as your expression went blank for a moment and then you painted a carefree smile on your face before you opened the door, smiling and waving with Joel following close behind.

Of course, the hostess led you directly to your table without needing to ask anything because everyone was always just ready to do exactly what you needed, all the time. Joel wondered what that must be like, to be so beautiful and so rich and so famous that the entire world shifted just to please you.

There was a man already seated there, watching as the waiter set up an ice bucket and showed him the bottle of wine. He nodded and then noticed you there, looking you up and down in a way that set Joel’s teeth on edge before standing up and calling your name in an almost sing song voice that grated on him.

“Hey Leo,” you smiled and he reached to hug you. You hugged him back, kissing his cheek as you did, the man seeming to notice Joel then, his face falling a little as he did.

“And who is this you’ve brought me?” He asked. “I’m sure he’s not some hopeful…”

“I’m sure Quinn mentioned some additional…” you trailed off.

“Ah,” he said, seeming to understand but then frowning. “I didn’t think they’d be quite so… hands on.”

“Neither did I,” you smiled, a little self satisfied. “But, Joel, this is my agent, Leo Musgrave. Leo, this is Joel, my shadow for the last few weeks.”

“Good to meet you,” Leo said, offering Joel his hand. He took it, an odd satisfaction settling over him at the way his palm dwarfed Leo’s and the way the other man had to tilt his chin up to meet Joel’s gaze. “But I can assure you, she’s perfectly safe with me.”

“Ain’t you I’m worried about,” Joel said, gripping the man’s hand a little too tightly, looking him up and down in a pointed way. An odd expression flitted over the man’s face, one Joel couldn’t place, but it passed quickly.

“Good,” he said, smiling again before going to pull your chair out for you. “Because I know we both just want what’s best for our girl here. Speaking of which, I got that rosé you like…”

“Thank God,” you smiled, taking your seat. Joel sat beside you, surveying the area quickly, noting the points of entry and egress, where people could be concealed. “I’ve got media at one, I could use a drink.”

The two of you talked and you ordered a salad and Joel got a steak just to spite the asshole sitting across from him. He wasn’t sure why he didn’t like him but he didn’t. Something about this man rubbed him the wrong way. Maybe it was the way his eyes lingered on your breasts when you were talking to the waiter, maybe it was the way he sat back in his seat, lounging like he owned the place, Joel didn’t like him.

“Oh,” Leo said, just as the waiter turned to leave. “We’ve got one more joining, if you could bring an old fashioned when you can, whatever’s top shelf.”

Joel watched your face fall for a fraction of a second, the moment so fast he probably wouldn’t have noticed it at all if he wasn’t so used to you now.

“Who’s joining us?” You asked once the waiter was out of earshot.

“Remember how I said I was working on bringing in another producer for Savage Starlight?” He asked. “Someone who can make sure it doesn’t turn into the typical superhero bullshit and keeps its strong narrative structure, doesn’t ditch the character development in favor of big set pieces?”

“Right,” you said slowly, your hand clenching around the stem of your wine glass.

“Well, we’re bringing in the best man for the job,” he smiled, proud. “And you were a big selling point, he’s been dying to work with you again… Henry!”

Joel didn’t turn to see who was making his way toward the table, Leo standing up to greet him. Instead, his eyes were on you. Your eyes were wide, your hands in your lap, fingers pressed tight into your thighs, breaths coming in fearful little pants.

“Leo!” A booming voice at Joel’s shoulder said. “It’s been too long.”

“We really should do this more,” Leo hugged the new arrival, clapping him on the back. “Everything you touch is magic, swear to God.”

“Could say the same thing about you,” the man said, stepping back from Leo and turning to face you and Joel, though he didn’t seem to be paying Joel any mind at all. It didn’t make a difference. Joel immediately disliked him, too. He was older, in his 50s at least, wearing a sport coat and an ostentatious ring, his bald head shining and he was looking at you like you were something he could consume. “You’ve got the best talent in the industry right here. How’ve you been, sweetheart?”

“Oh, you know me,” you said, a casual and cool smile on your face, almost no sign of your momentary discomfort from just a second earlier. You got up and went to greet him, keeping your hands at his biceps but kissing both his cheeks all the same. His hand went around your back, spreading over you, his pinky slipping inside the waist of your jeans before you pulled back from him. Joel’s hands tightened into fists. “Same as ever.”

“So, causing trouble,” he said, taking his seat.

You laughed.

“Something like that,” you said, sitting down and relaxing back into your chair. But the hand closest to Joel went back in your lap, clenched into a fist so tight he could see the strain of your skin over your knuckles.

The man seemed to actually notice Joel then, looking him up and down.

“And who’s this?” He asked, directing the question at you and Leo, not Joel.

“Just a little added security,” your smile shifted to something almost daring and triumphant, the hand in your lap still drawn tight. “Never can be too careful anymore. Don’t worry, he’s got a very thorough NDA.”

“Not worried about anything in particular, are you?” He asked, brows raised. “Because you could always come stay with me, my security is very good and my door is always open for you, you know that.”

“Oh, I’m sure it is,” you said. “But let’s not bog things down. Tell me, Henry, what brings you into this project? It doesn’t seem like your area of expertise.”

“Not cerebral enough for me?” He asked, an almost teasing edge to his voice.

“I’d say not up its own ass, but…” you said in a winking tone but something told Joel you meant it differently than that.

Henry laughed all the same, as though he was in on the joke.

“You always knew my taste,” he said. “But, truth is, I’ve been seeking out some projects that look to have the prospect of greater commercial success without sacrificing the art of storytelling. This seemed like the perfect project, especially once I knew you were attached.”

You hummed, nodding slowly, and Joel just sat there and watched as you and your agent and this new asshole discussed creative choices and shit like points on the back end, the whole time some part of you stiff and strained. Something was off. He wasn’t sure if it was fear or irritation or that you were just caught off guard by someone else being added to the mix but something about this was bothering you. He just wasn’t sure what it was.

Regardless, it set him on edge. He tried to focus on the potential threats from around you as you picked at your salad, more moving the food around than eating it, until it was time to go.

Henry moved around Joel to you as you draped your jacket over your bare shoulders and Joel wanted to fucking punch him, the way he pressed into your space as you shifted away, your fingers tight on the back of your chair.

“Now we can’t go almost 20 years without working together again, sweetheart,” he said, his hand at your waist as he held you to his side, his thick fingers pressing into the sheer parts of your top. “What we make together is too beautiful to let a little history get in the way.”

“Let’s see if we still have it,” you smiled politely. “Then we’ll talk.”

Henry pulled you out front with him, something Joel was cursing as the flashes started going off again, the paparazzi screaming your name. Had these assholes just camped out here for the last hour? Doing fuck all besides waiting for you to come outside again?

“This is me,” Henry said as a car pulled up to the curb. “We’ll chat soon, yeah?”

“Oh I have no doubt that you’ll make sure we will,” you said, a sour smile on your face.

An odd expression passed over Henry then and he leaned in to kiss you on the cheek but Joel caught him whisper something in your ear, something that made you freeze against him, your hands on his arms to force some distance. You stayed like that as he got in the car, the flashes still going like crazy. Joel looked around for a moment, your driver nowhere to be seen in the immediate traffic, and you were out here - exposed.

Shit.

“C’mon,” Joel said, tucking you below his arm and steering you back in the restaurant, putting you out of sight of the windows. You were breathing fast and shallow again, your eyes wide as you stared into space. “Hey, look at me.”

You obeyed, those wide eyes meeting his.

“You OK?” He asked. “He hurt you?”

“No,” you shook your head and swallowed. “No, I’m fine, just… I’m fine.”

He wasn’t sure he believed that.

“Can you sit tight for one minute?” Joel asked. “I’m going to find your driver, get you out of here, OK?”

You just nodded quickly and Joel reluctantly stepped away from you to a place he could see outside, calling the driver. It took a moment for the call to connect but he reached him and stayed on until he was close enough that Joel could see him out the window before he went back to find you, his chest oddly tight at the distance, a strange relief in him knowing that you’d be where he could properly protect you again in just a second.

But he couldn’t.

You were gone.

***

You weren’t really thinking when you left The Ivy. At least, not consciously.

Something else had taken over your mind, something animalistic and protective, and it only had one thought: Go.

So you went. You found a back way out, dodging servers and cooks who did doubletakes as you wove your way through kitchen until you were outside, the sunlight bright and harsh. You’d just walked after that, not picking any direction in particular, just desperate for some distance.

You weren’t really sure where you’d wound up when you finally seemed to come back into yourself enough to make yourself just stop walking. Your feet ached, there was a dumpster next to you that absolutely reeked and you realized then that you’d ditched your shoes at some point but you weren’t quite sure when. You vaguely remembered running for a bit and your shoes making you stumble but you didn’t remember taking them off. You also didn’t have your purse, probably left behind at the damn restaurant because you hadn’t been thinking, so you had no phone, no ID and no money.

Perfect. Just perfect.

You walked to the end of the alley and looked around, asphalt cutting into the soles of your feet, and peered out to the street. It was mercifully fairly quiet, a bar across from you open, the soft sound of a guitar drifting out from the open door. You darted across the road and into the bar, thankful that no photographers had managed to catch you on your unhinged run through Los Angeles.

Inside the bar was quiet, too, just a few patrons hunched over drinks and a man playing guitar at a small stage in the corner. A few of them looked up when you came in and you realized you were breathing hard. You tried to slow it, clearing your throat awkwardly as someone seemed to clock you, his eyebrows drawing together like he was trying to place you before his eyes went wide and he quickly looked back to his drink.

“Hi,” you smiled at the bartender as you came up. “I was wondering…”

“Need shoes,” he said gruffly.

You frowned.

“What?”

“You need shoes,” he said. “Can’t be barefoot in here. Not sure why anyone would want to walk around barefoot out there anyway, but…”

“Sorry,” you said, smiling again as best you could even though all you really wanted to do was cry. But you’d acted through worse. “They broke. I was hoping I could use a phone to see if I can get someone to pick me up? I lost mine.”

“You can use mine!” The man who’d spotted you before said quickly before clearing his throat. “Um… if… if you wanted.”

“Thank you,” you smiled, relieved, and taking the phone he held out to you.

It took you a moment to figure out who to call.

You wanted to call Anna. She was the only person who would get it, she was the only person who knew all of it. She was who would make you feel like it was all going to be OK.

But you didn’t have her anymore, so you ran down the list of numbers you had memorized. You knew Tanya’s but you didn’t want to leave the number of the world’s biggest musician in some random man’s phone. Justice, one of your closest friends and former costar, was out for the same reason. But you knew Quinn’s number and you did pay her to get you out of situations like this.

Well, maybe not exactly like this, but still. It was better than the alternatives.

It took a few tries before she answered the phone and, when she did, she was clearly pissed.

“What!” She snapped. “Whoever this is, it had better be good because I’m dealing with a crisis right now.”

“Hi Quinn,” you winced a little. “I think I might be your crisis.”

“Oh, thank God,” she said, sounding like she was about to cry with relief. “What the hell happened? Where are you? Are you OK?”

“I’m fine,” you lied. “Just needed a walk. Can you send Joel to come get me? I’m at…”

You paused, realizing you weren’t sure where you were. You covered the receiver on the phone and were about to ask the bartender when he gruffly answered your unspoken question.

“O’Shea’s Pub.”

“Thank you,” you smiled at him before repeating it back to Quinn. “Can you tell Joel?”

“I can,” she said. “You know, you could have just told him yourself if you’d fucking said what you were doing!”

“I know,” you flinched. “Sorry.”

She sighed.

“It’s fine,” she said. “Just… don’t do it again. I’m sure he’ll be there soon.”

You returned the phone and got a glass of water from the bartender, who still looked none too happy about the fact that you were in his bar without shoes. But he was, at least, not forcing you to leave. You’d take that.

You tucked yourself into the corner booth, your feet on the seat next to you to get them off the floor, and stared out at the bar, listening to the guitarist as he played, letting your mind drift.

It had been so long since you’d been in the same room as Henry, even longer since it was close quarters. Years. Maybe a decade, even. You’d avoided him and he, mostly, let you. Every few years, a script would wind up in front of you with him attached and you never even read it, your stomach turning just seeing him listed as a producer. You just passed and he’d go back to leaving you alone.

You should have known he’d have done something like this eventually. You usually insisted on producer approval in your contracts but you’d foregone that to land Savage Starlight. You’d wanted the part so badly, wanted to be someone Ellie liked and looked up to and thought was cool, you’d made concessions. Henry was not the superhero movie type, you’d never even considered that he’d try to attach himself to this. A mistake on your part, it seemed.

“I still own you.”

That’s what he’d whispered in your ear as he was leaving, when he had you far enough from Leo and Joel to get away with saying whatever he wanted. Just the memory of it sent a chill up your spine and made your stomach churn. You fidgeted with the water cup, trying not to cry. You couldn’t cry, not in public, not before you had press, not when you were about to be crying in front of fucking Joel. You had to focus, not let things that happened more than a decade ago get under your skin.

It seemed like you’d hardly been sitting there any time at all when, suddenly, Joel was there, his large, broad frame blotting out the sun from the open door of the bar.

“What the fuck were you thinkin’?” He snapped.

You couldn’t make out the expression on his face from your spot in the corner of the booth, just a silhouette, but you looked up at him anyway, not really sure what to say.

“Where the hell are your shoes?” He asked, his voice softening slightly.

“I’m not sure,” you said. “I lost them somewhere…”

He sighed and then took the seat across from you and you blinked in surprise, watching him as he crossed his arms on the tabletop, leaning in and looking you over, his eyes strangely soft.

“Want to tell me what happened.”

“Not really,” you said, leaning back against the wall behind you.

He nodded to your cup.

“What’re you drinking?”

“Water,” you said. “I didn’t have my wallet, so…”

Joel snorted.

“You tellin’ me they’re not bending over backwards to give the biggest movie star in the world free booze?”

You laughed, too, the sound thick in your throat.

“Not exactly,” you said. “But I shouldn’t be drinking, anyway, I have press in… fuck, what time is it?”

“About noon,” Joel said. “We got a few minutes. What do you want?”

“Whisky?” You asked, brows raised.

Joel looked surprised for a moment before he nodded.

“Whisky it is.”

You watched him go to the bar and bring back two glasses, setting one in front of you before taking his place across from you again, taking a sip himself.

“Thank you,” you said.

Joel shrugged and the two of you sat there in silence, sipping your drinks. The whisky was shitty but you kind of liked it that way for a change, the burn of it strangely satisfying, grounding you in your own body.

“Who was that guy?” Joel asked eventually, looking more at his glass than at you.

“Henry Wilde,” you said. Just saying his name made your stomach turn. “He’s a producer.”

“Seemed like he was more than that,” Joel said, looking at you now.

You watched him for a moment. One of the strange things about being famous was the fact that it seemed like the entire planet new your romantic history. It was disorienting, talking with someone who didn’t.

“We dated for a while,” you said. “A long time ago.”

Joel frowned.

“Seems old for you.”

You snorted.

“Yeah, well,” you said. “It is what it is, I suppose. I haven’t seen him in a while except at awards shows and things. The breakup… it wasn’t great.”

Joel nodded slowly, downing the last of his whisky before looking you in the eye.

“You know it’s my job to protect you,” he said. “Someone shoots at you, it’s my job to take the bullet. Someone tries to grab you, it’s my job to grab them first. Thing is… it don’t really matter who the threat is. If he’s a threat, it’s my job to protect you from him. I will keep you safe. Understand?”

You looked at him across the table, the seriousness of his expression, the uncanny openness of his gaze, the breadth and strength of his shoulders. There was something about him that made you believe him. He might hate you for some unknown reason but you trusted him. He would keep you safe, that you knew.

The thought made your throat get tight and you smiled a little at him.

“I understand,” you said. “Thank you, Joel.”

He just gave you a stiff nod and you polished off your whisky and Joel helped you to the car that was waiting outside. Joel, at least, had thought to grab your purse and you texted Quinn about the shoes. You made a quick detour to Christian Louboutin, a sales woman running a pair of pumps in your size out to the car so you made it to your call time on time. They ushered you right into hair and makeup to touch up what you’d done to yourself that morning before bringing you in to the studio, a craft services table set up at the back.

“There she is!” Your costar, Chris Reese, greeted you with open arms, a beaming smile on his face. You fought the urge to grimace as he hugged you, kissing you on both cheeks. “My God you look incredible, you really ought to have mercy on us mere mortals and have an off day sometime, love.”

“Now where’s the fun in that?” You asked, brows raised. “Besides, you look pretty good yourself.”

Which wasn’t a lie. Chris was almost unnaturally handsome - you wondered if he’d had some work done but, if he had, it was done well - with a sculpted face, dimpled chin, thick hair. He was good looking and he knew it but he seemed to love you admitting it, anyway.

“Well, if you say so,” he winked. “Still say we’d make a beautiful couple. C’mon, just for a few weeks. We wouldn’t even need to fuck. Unless you wanted to, of course, because who am I to deny a beautiful woman what she wants…”

“I think I’ll pass,” you said.

“On the PR relationship or on the sex?” He asked, his British accent thick. “Because I’m happy to offer the sex with no strings attached.”

“Oh I’m sure you are,” you clapped him on the shoulder before going to get yourself a Diet Coke.

A production assistant came in then, calling you and Chris over to show you examples of some TikTok trends they wanted you to recreate for promos.

It was hard to focus on them. You felt like you needed to play a character for things like this, some version of yourself that the public might want to see and be friends with, the kind of person they’d want to see on their social media feed instead of just on a movie screen. But it was hard to fall into it today. You had to say “Chris, this is the media day for ‘As We Know It’” three times before you finally settled on a take to use.

Chris, to his credit, was good natured about it, willingly saying “I hope she plays Hot to Go” again and again until you were both happy with it. He did the same thing for some choreographed dance after you fucked it up more than you cared to admit and you tried not to feel completely humiliated by it all.

After you posed for some photos - so many with your head on Chris’ chest or your face close to his, the faked intimacy making your jaw clench tight - you settled in for the interviews and you were already exhausted. You hadn’t counted on seeing Henry that day and, even if you had, you wouldn’t have known how much it would take out of you.

“You alright, love?” Chris asked as you had a few minutes between interview three and four. “Seem like you’re not quite yourself.”

“Fine,” you said, taking a sip of Diet Coke. “Just a long day.”

“Tell me about it,” he said, taking a swig of water. “God, this is the worst part of the job.”

“Not the night shoot where we were covered in mud and it was 40 degrees outside?” You asked, brows raised.

He barked a laugh.

“Yeah, alright,” he said. “That might have been worse.”

The next reporter came in and introduced himself and settled in across from the two of you and everything seemed normal, the usual questions about research and challenges and favorite parts of the film when he turned is focus to you and you had to fight the urge to frown at that.

“This one is just for you,” he said. “Sorry, Chris.”

“Don’t worry, I know where I stand when this one’s involved,” he smiled jovially. “Rightfully so, I might add.”

“Such a charmer,” you smiled at him before turning back to the reporter.

“As We Know It is familiar territory for you in a few ways,” he said, making you frown slightly. “Not so much in plot but more in the awards aspect. You famously won your Oscar - your first Oscar, I should say, since you’re the favorite this season - when you were just 20. You were the frontrunner then, too, because you were such a standout…”

“I mean if you want to talk about how great I am, I won’t argue too much,” you smiled, hoping to change the subject.

“Oh, I could,” he smiled back. “But more what I’m getting at… The District, which was about a teenaged prostitute working in a red light district, was a very different film from As We Know It. This is much bigger in scope while also being very intimate - framing the dissolution of a marriage around the end of the world - while The District was much more of a character study, one that caught a lot of flack for the rampant nudity and graphic sex scenes.

“But you also had a very different connection to The District, didn’t you?” He continued. “Your boyfriend at the time, Henry Wilde, developed it as a vehicle to launch that era of your career. The movie really existed because of you, didn’t it?”

Your eyes darted toward where Joel was standing, your fingers pressing down into your thigh. You could feel his gaze on you, could sense the tension drawn tight between you, like he was waiting there for something to shift just enough for him to jump in.

“Well…”

“I was wondering what that was like for you,” he said. “Being in on the ground floor like that and having something built around you and your skills versus what the process looks like when you don’t have someone in that director/producer role crafting a film specifically for you? And how does that change awards season for you?”

You dug your nails into your leg.

“Well, I…”

“I’ll take this one, love,” Chris said, his hand coming to cover yours and you turned to look at him and you realized that he was watching you, intently, before turning his attention to the reporter. “I’m going to lay this out for you as clearly as I can: we aren’t doing that.”

The reporter opened his mouth to argue but Chris cut him off.

“No, you asked your question, I’m giving you the bloody answer,” he said. “First of all, my costar here is the most beautiful woman on the planet and the single most talented actor I’ve ever had the pleasure of working with so you will treat her with the respect she’s due. She’s also a lot kinder than I am because she would just answer your bullshit question which is why I’m not letting her. Someone needs to teach you some manners.

“I’m not going to let you sit there and say - to her fucking face - that you think she slept her way to the top,” he said, tone heated. “Because that’s bullshit. You’ve seen her films, you’ve seen her act, if you think she got here off anything beyond talent and incredibly hard work, you’re insane but, more importantly, even if she DID fuck her way to the top, who cares? Why would that be on her? She was, what, 18 when making that film? Henry Wilde was pushing 50? Never mind the fact that he bragged about recognizing her talent when he first met her when she was all of - what was it, love? 13?”

He looked at you again, giving you a chance to answer.

“Twelve,” you said, your grip on your leg easing.

“Fucking 12!” He turned his attention back toward the reporter. “Can you imagine meeting someone who is 12 years old when you’re in your fucking 40s and then DATING THEM six years later? If she slept with him for the part - which I highly doubt since she wouldn’t even pretend to date me to get good PR for this movie, I know because I asked - why would that be on her? That’s on him, ask him why he was going after fucking teenagers, don’t ask her.”

“Alright, I think that’s all the time we have,” Chris’ publicist all but jumped in between him and the reporter, cutting him off before he could go any further. “Thank you so much for coming, why don’t we just see what I can answer for you over here…”

She guided the still dumbfounded looking man away, leaving just you and Chris sitting there in awkward silence.

“Sorry about that,” he said after a moment. “Just think if I had to sit there and let that jackass keep going I was going to lose my bloody mind.”

“No, I…” You looked at him for a moment. “Thank you. Why did you do that?”

He shrugged.

“Why wouldn’t I?” He asked. “Meant what I said. You are supremely talented and an all around lovely person. You may not be too fond of me…”

“I never said that,” you said quickly but he gave you a look.

“But that’s really my own fault,” he said. “Something tells me if I came on a little less strong when we met, you and I might be friends.”

You smiled a little.

“We still can be,” you said.

“As long as you don’t hold it against me,” he gave you a wink. “Even if I do deserve it.”

You reached a hand out for him and he took it, giving your fingers a squeeze.

“My publicist is going to kill me,” he said cheerfully. “Maybe I’ll never have to do press again.”

You barked a laugh, already feeling lighter.

“Let me know if it works,” you said. “I’ve got a few screeds stashed away, think I could be just unhinged enough to pull it off.”

The rest of the media day was calm, the same basic questions just asked in slightly different ways, things handled easily by your years of media training.

There was just one other moment that set you on edge, probably because of the moment with Joel earlier in the day, the one where he brought your Oscar out from his room and forced you to look at it for the first time in years.

“So,” the reporter asked, smiling conspiratorially. “You each have an Academy Award and I’ve always wondered: where on earth do you keep something like that?”

“Oh that’s easy,” Chris said. “Keep mine on the bedside table but not on my side of the bed. Like to make sure the people I bring home know I’ve got one.”

He gave the reporter a wink and she giggled and you tried not to laugh.

“And you?” She asked when you weren’t quite so forthcoming.

“Oh,” you said, your fingers pressing down into your thigh again, keenly aware of Joel’s eyes on you. “Currently, it’s in the back of my pantry.”

“Your pantry?” Chris looked at you, incredulous. “What on earth is it doing there?”

You laughed and hoped it didn’t sound too fake.

“I just like keeping myself humble,” you said. “If it’s out of sight, it’s out of mind. Gives me something to work towards.”

“Not me,” Chris said. “I’d wear that thing on a chain if it wasn’t so bloody heavy.”

“I’ve got an Emmy that’s a paperweight in my office,” you smiled. “That one’s lighter if you want to borrow it…”

“Not nearly as impressive for me if it’s got your name on it, love. Guess I’ll need to do some TV,” he said. “Get one of my own. Will you do it with me?”

You laughed a little, more genuinely than you ever really had with Chris before. You liked it.

“Of course,” you said. “I’d love to work with you again.”

“And we’d love to see it,” the reporter smiled.

Once the final reporter left, you got up, taking a moment to stretch as best you could in your outfit, the boning of the corseted top keeping you from doing too much and you were ready to be out of the damn thing, back in the comfort of your home where you could peel back the carefully packaged version of yourself that existed for public consumption and just exist without the artifice of it all.

“Christ, media days are so long,” Chris said, cracking his back, too. “Give me back to back night shoots any day.”

“Tell me about it,” you said. “Are you staying in town at least or are you heading out tonight?”

“I’ll be here through the premier,” he said. “Want to walk the carpet with me? As friends, of course.”

“Yeah,” you smiled a little. “That would be nice.��

He gave you a peck on the cheek and a squeeze before the two of you went your separate ways, Joel sitting beside you in the back of the SUV as you stared out the window, watching the city go past.

You did a FaceTime call with Ellie after you got changed and had something to eat, not too long before her bedtime. She told you about school, excited about making friends with a girl named Dina and proud of her grade on her latest science test. You’d promised to take her to the space center in Houston if she actually studied, so you made a mental note to see if Quinn could make some calls and get you a tour. You usually didn’t like leveraging your celebrity status for things like that - you’d gone to DisneyLand plenty of times and just worn a baseball cap and sunglasses all day, doing your best to blend in while waiting in line like everybody else - but, for something that would help keep Ellie engaged in learning, you’d pull some strings.

Talking to her was good but it was also hard. You sat there for a minute, staring into space when the call was over. Something in you was so hollow in that moment, as though someone and wrenched your ribs apart and carved out your insides, leaving you totally empty.

You missed Ellie. You missed Anna. You missed a life you’d never had, one that was quiet and still and let you exist in a way that didn’t include people like fucking Henry or reporters asking about some of the worst parts of your life so everyone else could know about them, too.

When that feeling stuck around a little too long, you unfolded yourself from the couch and padded back toward your bedroom, pausing for a second at Joel’s door. The light was on in his room but it was quiet. Not that you should be bothering him, anyway. Just because he’d been kind to you that afternoon didn’t mean that the two of you were suddenly friends.

You sighed before going to your room and getting your guitar from its place in the corner.

You took it out back to sit by the pool, tuning it quickly before strumming a few chords, trying to think of what to play.

Eventually, you settled on Landslide. It had been a while since you’d played, it took you a little while to find a groove, but it still felt good. You’d never been an incredible guitarist by any means, but you loved playing. It felt like something you did just for you, something that no one else expected out of you.

That was the problem with acting for a living. It helped you think and process and understand yourself and the people around you but it wasn’t something you could do on your own terms anymore, it was always something made for someone else, so someone else could profit or be entertained. No one expected you to play guitar for them, this was something you could do just for you.

You played the song twice to get a feel for things again and just started playing music that felt right, not always whole songs, sometimes just bits and pieces, sometimes singing sometimes not as you watched the glow from the pool light ripple on the water.

“Didn’t know you played.”

You jumped, whipping your head around to find Joel hovering near the door, his hands in the pockets of his pajama pants with a t-shirt on this time.

“Sorry,” he said. “Wasn’t… didn’t mean to scare ya.”

“It’s alright,” you said, looking back toward the water. “I forgot you were here for a minute is all.”

“It OK if I join you?” He asked and you looked back at him again.

You shrugged.

“If you want.”

He came and sat on the lounge chair next to yours, staring straight ahead at the water, too, his hands clasped between his knees.

“Don’t gotta stop just because of me,” he said after a moment. “You ain’t bad.”

You laughed once.

“I’m not great,” you said.

He shrugged.

“Definitely heard worse. Where’d you learn to play?”

“I had to learn the basics for Siren,” you said. “They almost never used my real playing on the show but I needed to at least look like I knew what I was doing. I just kept learning after that. I know I’m not very good but it feels good, you know?”

Joel nodded slowly, looking like he wanted to say something but seeming to think better of it.

“You doing OK?” He asked after a minute.

You looked at him, examining him closely.

“Why?” You asked. “Do you actually care or are you trying to find something to use against me.”

He examined you back, his gaze sharp and exacting before softening.

“Just seemed like you had a shit day,” he said.

You nodded slowly, looking back to the water again.

“I just miss my friend,” you said quietly. “Ellie’s mom, I mean. She was my person, she was my person for my whole life and I just want to talk to her again. I want to tell her about lunch and about Chris and I want her to know that Ellie got an A on her science test…”

“She did?” Joel asked and you looked over at him, his expression oddly earnest.

“She did,” you smiled a little. “I called her a little while ago, she was very proud.”

“She should be,” Joel said. “She worked hard.”

“She did,” you said again and then you sighed. “It just seems so impossible that Anna’s gone. She doesn’t get to see these things, I don’t have her to talk to, I can’t get drunk with her or laugh with her or… “

Mid-sentence, Joel just got up and walked away. You sat there, blinking at the empty space for a moment before you huffed derisively.

“Figures,” you muttered to yourself, before picking at the guitar strings again. But, unexpectedly, Joel was back just a minute later, two glasses of whisky in his hands and a bottle of water tucked under his arm. He handed you a glass and set the bottle on the ground next to your foot.

“Sorry,” he said. “Just… think we need it.”

You considered him for a moment before nodding and taking a sip. He did the same before frowning a little, holding the glass away from himself and examining it.

“What?” You frowned.

“Nothin’,” he said. “Just never had shit this good before. Probably should have asked before taking it.”

“Nah,” you waved him off. “It’s there to be taken, I don’t mind.”

“Wouldn’t have taken you for a whisky girl,” he said, taking another sip. “This is damn good.”

“I picked it up when I was young,” you said. “Meeting with producers, they liked when a girl drank like them and seemed to know her shit. I had to force it at first but… well, I guess I acquired the taste. Course, that means I’m picky now. That’s a Macallan 25.”

Joel whistled, long and low.

“Explains why it’s so damn good,” he said.

You smiled a little.

“That it does.”

You sipped the liquor in silence for a bit, savoring the feel of it on your tongue, the heat as it slipped into your stomach.

“What Chris was sayin’,” Joel said eventually, his voice trailing off before he continued. “That all true?”

You looked over at him, watching him for a moment. Joel puzzled you. There were times he seemed to relish being cold or even cruel. Others - like this one - where he seemed to genuinely care.

You weren’t sure what to make of it.

“Yeah,” you said after a minute. “Yeah, it is. But it’s not… Look, this is Hollywood. Producers and men with power date young women because they can and the young women date them because we know it can help us get ahead. Tale as old as time.”

“That why you did it?” He asked.

You didn’t really feel like giving him the real answer, so you just looked back at your pool and shrugged, taking another drink.

“Meant what I said before,” he said after a minute. “I will keep you safe. Don’t matter who, don’t matter why. If you don’t want to ever talk to him again, fine, you don’t have to.”

You laughed once, darkly.

“That’s very sweet, Joel, but he’s producing the movie I’m on,” you said. “I’m going to have to deal with him, that’s just how it works.”

“Well, then, it won’t be alone,” he said. “Not while I’m around, anyway.”

“Because you’re going to fight the most powerful producer in Hollywood?” You asked, teasing a little, a small smile tugging at your lips.

Joel shrugged.

“Don’t much care who he is,” Joel said. “But why not. I’d win.”

You laughed and then sighed and, before you were really thinking about it, your head drifted over to Joel’s shoulder. He stiffened and you were about to pull yourself back and apologize but then he relaxed a little, his arm slipping around you, his hand settling into the curve of your waist.

“You’ll be safe,” he said, so quietly that you weren’t sure you were even supposed to hear it. “I’ll keep you safe.”

You smiled a little, the light dancing on the water. For some reason, you believed him.

A/N: I swear, I'm not trying to only publish once a month! Thank you for waiting for this chapter. I really am so happy you're here.

I hope you're all taking care of yourselves right now. There's been a lot going on lately, please spend some time looking after yourself. You deserve it (and Joel would want you to.)

Love you ❤️

Taglist: @christinamadsen @eff4freddie @brittmb115 @copperhalfcent @r3dheadedwitch @pedropascalsbbg @lovelyjess69 @yopossum @moel-jiller @picketniffler @lilyevanstan1325 @reluctanthalfwayoptimism @wintersquirrel @missladym1981 @mellymbee @canthinkof1user @inept-the-magnificent

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #The Savage and the Sanctuary #tsats

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