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dopescotlandwarrior · 5 years ago

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Unforgettable-Final Chapter

Also on AO3 A very special thanks to @statell for all your help

Chapter Nine

A young man knocks hard on a wood pole of a tukul, a round shelter made of grasses, mud, and wood poles, very common in South Sudan and the only type of structure on this UN base. It is officially known as the United Nations Protection of Civilians Site Bentiu. It was constructed outside the scorched city of Bentiu in the poorest nation of central Africa. The civil war had been raging for three years and when a peace treaty was signed in 2015 it failed to stop the fighting, so the war raged on.

The young man knocked harder on the tukul making the structure wobble in its feebleness. “Claire! Wake up! Treatment three and hurry! The door opened in a rush and Claire stood on the other side pushing her t-shirt into her pants.

“Jesus, I hate waking up to a flood of adrenalin! Nabbi when the tukul shakes like that the creatures in the grass roof fall to the ground, or on me.”

Nabbi smiled mischievously at his favorite nurse, “and now you are up and need very high, doctor says run!”

Claire felt her thighs burning as she sprinted to the treatment ward. Rounding the corner she saw both doctors bent over bodies that were unrecognizable. Casualties of government soldiers shooting, raping, and burning a village in the night.

Sterile gloves slapped back on her hands that were held aloft. There were no sterile gowns and no clean water on most days.

“I’m ready!

A long stream of Gaelic profanity was growled as Jamie threw his instruments on the wooden tray. He hung his head wondering what the intensive nine-month training he endured was for as he lost more than he saved. The patient was removed by workers and another mangled mess was placed on his table. Claire held his gloves open and his huge hands jammed into them.

“Pea! On the double, bring a clamp pack, this boy is bleeding out!

Claire felt like she never stopped running when the wounded arrived from a village raid.

“Clamp the arteries as fast as you can. I have the chest, you take the abdomen. We can save this one if we hurry.”

Claire’s steady hand held the row of clamps as she jammed the forceps into one and pinched a bleeder off by squeezing it around the vessel. She worked fast from three months of practice at this level of trauma. Her eyes flicked at Jamie every few minutes because she was worried about him. He was losing weight and had dark circles under his eyes. She couldn’t remember the last time she saw him smile.

“Eyes on the bleeders sweet pea, your betrothed is fine, just frustrated.”

“I’m worried, Cutter, he doesn’t look well, as a matter of fact, either do you. Thank Christ we’re getting out of here in four days.”

(NSFW under the cut.)

Hours later they each had a bucket of semi-clean water to pour over their heads. One bucket per day. Claire spent many hours daydreaming about long showers with her favorite scented body wash and it was finally just four days away. She took a seat next to Jamie at the grub table and ran her hand down his leg. Looking up at his tired face made her long to lay in his arms and kiss him to sleep. She missed him. Nine months of working his practice while completing his field training had kept him away from her and then they were off to South Sudan to do their part with Doctors Without Borders. He had done that for her and now she just wanted to get him home.

She thought about the visiting doctor they met the week before. He, Jamie, and Cutter had much to talk about allowing Claire to watch his face, the slump of his shoulders, and his haunted eyes. He headed a research team of five other doctors that were sent to Africa to treat the outbreak of Ebola. Once their treatment protocol was established, he flew back to the states to compile the mountain of data that would be coming. All five of those doctors, his colleagues, and friends, died a horrifying death and their corpses were left rotting in the jungle until procedures were developed to bring them safely home.

Claire recognized the symptoms of survivor's syndrome, his guilt that he survived when his team did not was taking a toll on his promising life. Snuffing out the flame that once burned bright. Their contribution to the treatment of Ebola would save thousands of lives, possibly millions in the future. Once the paper was published the doctor resigned his position at Harvard Medical, locked his lab, and left civilization. Now he headed a program for monitoring the doctors on the front lines of emerging pathogens. He had come to examine the medical staff and clear them to return to America.

Cutter left to write a letter to his wife and Claire asked Jamie to take a walk with her. The compound walls stretched for a mile in each direction and U.N. peacekeepers manned the turrets along the wall with machine guns. It was crowded with people seeking refuge from the war making a relaxing walk impossible. Claire’s mantra played over and over in her head, I want to go home, I want to go home, I want to go home.

New doctors arrived two days later and spent twelve hours with Jamie and Cutter, learning the base, the wards, and the one-hundred seventy patients being treated. They walked through the rape ward where the girls and women were kept away from the other patients. Little was said about the brutality of the attacks. They would find out soon enough.

The pediatric ward was last. It was Jamie’s poison to watch the babies, sick with Cholera, malaria, or malnutrition succumb to their illness, week after week. Cutter had taken over the tour and Jamie sought out the quiet of their tukul. When Claire found him later, he was respondent.

“I’m sorry we came here Jamie, I’m sorry you are suffering because of me. Please talk to me before I die from sadness. I am left to guess what has struck you down, pulled you away from me. When it didn’t happen after three months, I thought I wasn’t cursed anymore. Wh…when you didn’t turn against me I mean, I thought we were safe. It just took a little longer this time, right Jamie? Now you hate everything I do and every breath I take.”

She put her arms around him and cried the words out until he turned to her and held her closely, shushing her and saying no.

“My sweet Sassenach, stop, ye dinna speak my truth lass, I’ve never loved ye more. Ye break my heart when ye cry like that.”

“Then tell me what it is and if we’re over Jamie.”

“We are powerless to save these people that have come here to die. We have no supplies, no sterile theater, and no freshwater. We are but undertakers for the almost dead. The babies, so innocent, so sick, have no chance. Born to a short life of misery. Where is God Sassenach? I can kill a man, face to face because I battle the devil. I would feel better to be let out of here where I can do some good.”

Jamie stood up abruptly and started walking to the door like he would walk out of the base and join the war.

“No!” Claire jumped on him crying no. Begging him to stop, not to leave her, not to die. “Tomorrow Jamie, we leave this dreadful place tomorrow. Please, don’t break my heart today!” She jumped off of him and ran to the door to stand in front of it.

“Let me out, Claire”

“You will have to hurt me for that to happen because I’m not moving! I understand how you feel now, and I agree, this was a terrible choice of location. In sixteen hours we board a plane to get out of this hell, why can’t you hold on until then?”

Jamie knew he wasn’t making sense and he knew this was the last night here. He took a deep breath and held his arms out to Claire.

“Please, Sassenach. Let’s go to bed, and I promise to just hold ye all night. Please, Claire, stop cryin, we will get out tomorrow and go back to our life. Come here.”

Claire flew into his arms and he carried her to bed, to hold her, until morning when this nightmare was over. She couldn’t relax until she pulled a piece of twine from her belongings and tied it around Jamie’s wrist. With much effort and Jamie’s help, the other end was tied around her wrist. She found a comfortable spot but woke up through the night to make sure he was still there.

Before they left, Claire found Cutter coming out of the surgical ward covered in blood.

“Shirt off Cutter.”

He smiled wickedly and pulled his shirt over his head. Claire held him around his middle and cried. She would miss him until they met again next year to find a new location for the summer. Jamie came up behind them and told Cutter to get his disgusting hands off his future wife. The two men shook hands and hugged, both feeling the relief this trip was over.

“Until next time friend,” Jamie said through a smile.

Claire stowed their bags and busied herself with grabbing a blanket for Jamie. She was able to get stiff drinks for both of them when they were finally in the air. She passed a mixed drink and a shot of whisky to Jamie, looking back a minute later to see two empty glasses. She got on her knees and released Jamie’s seat kissing him sweetly. That and the alcohol sent him into the quiet of his dreams for the next five hours. Claire felt relief this exhausted man could sleep, and she guarded him from the steward and other passengers that might wake him. They were accustomed to the brutal heat of South Sudan and she noticed Jamie shaking in his sleep. She turned the airflow away from him and then covered him with the blanket.

When they were notified of landing for their connection, she stroked his arm to avoid jolting him awake. Jamie pulled the armrest up and pulled her to him, covering both of them with the blanket.

Claire leaned into his neck and felt powerful arms around her. She had not felt this close to him in a very long time and wished they could cuddle for another hour. There was another huge feeling in her stomach at the same time. Her phone! She could make calls while they waited for their connection and she was bursting with excitement. She was digging in her purse while they disembarked the plane making Jamie laugh.

“Who will be first Sassenach?”

“Jenny of course,” said as she punched her speed dial.

Jamie looked down at her marveling at her ability to accept changes in her life and then put the effort into creating the life she wanted. He remembered his sister’s stone face when they met for lunch so long ago. Jenny was convinced he had become a total tool and womanizer and nothing he said would change her mind. He was so disappointed she was making him choose between her and Claire. When Claire asked him to invite Jenny and Ian for dinner one weekend, he decided it was time for Claire to know the family dynamic at play. Claire sat across from him at the kitchen table and listened to the timeline he shared with Geneva and how she poisoned Jenny’s mind against her. She felt sad for Jamie because there was now an ultimatum standing between him and Lallybroch. I can fix this, she thought, just need a little luck.

Over the next week, she checked in with Geillis and Laoghaire to get caught up on the details of Geneva’s life. She broached the subject at the club when her friends were three sheets to the wind.

“So I understand Jamie dated this girl Geneva while I was gone. I totally understand because I told him I was not coming back to Scotland, ever. Now she has lied to his sister about their relationship, so I need all her details girls.”

“Her family is rich and she flaunts that over everyone since she was in elementary.” Laoghaire was clearly harboring a dislike for the lady and Claire seized the opportunity.

“I heard she was really nice,” Claire lied.

“She is not nice! She’s a cold, calculating bitch actually. She was all sweet to me until Jamie dumped her and now she doesn’t seem to recognize me. That’s okay, she is gettin what’s due her now.”

“Do tell sweetheart,” Claire inched her chair closer to her friend.

Geillis started to laugh wickedly, “the lass got herself knocked up by some hotshot, handsome, rich, and new to the area. He’s developing the new mall and already well known around town. They were datin for a month and she told him at her birthday party she was pregnant. He instantly left the party and she cried for the rest of the night. We were there and saw the whole thing.”

Claire’s mind was churning the facts and she smiled broadly at her two best friends. ”Is that a fact?”

It took two days for Jamie to fall asleep before she did and she took his phone outside and sent a text message to Geneva to meet him at the house tomorrow, twelve noon. Then she deleted the message and blocked text messages from her.

When she answered the door the next day, she leaned against the door jam and stuck out her hand with a smile. Geneva was not happy about the intrusion of this girl and demanded to see Jamie.

“Of course, come in, let’s get acquainted. I’m Claire by the way, Jamie’s girlfriend.”

It took some persuading to get Geneva to the kitchen table where she could deliver the coup de grace.

“I am so happy to spend time with you before Jamie gets here. You see, his sister Jenny has a misconception of your relationship, and it's causing a rift in the family. I want you to fix that, today.”

Geneva snorted a weak laugh and looked at Claire with utter disdain. “Not likely, I told her the truth. I feel sorry for you because you were duped by Jamie. He was with me, actively with me, until a week before he broke it off. We talked about getting married and then suddenly he was done with me. Poor baby, you’re next.”

“I know the truth of it Geneva and you will come clean to Jenny, today. If you don’t, it’s high time your father knows about your pregnancy to a guy that has run from any association with you. An abortion, trapping him with a paternity test or just hoping he comes back will do nothing but tarnish your family’s good name. You’re a social parasite Geneva and I can see your father cut off your support and throw you to the streets to cohabitate with others as misguided as you. You must be working on solutions to your situation so tell Jenny the truth and I leave you alone. Otherwise, everyone in town will know, including your parents.”

Claire smiled sweetly at Geneva and waited until she bolted out of the house cursing under her breath. She could only hope she was right about the family dynamic and how this news would poison Geneva’s position in it.

Jamie came home the next night with company. His contrite sister was there to apologize to Claire and ask to start over with her. Claire was over the moon and made plans with Jenny for a night out on the town the following weekend so the four of them could have some fun. It was like magic to a grateful Jamie. The four of them got on so well and Claire and Jenny started a friendship that would bond them to each other like sisters.

Jamie grabbed the phone from Claire and asked Jenny to hold on a minute. He pulled Claire to his lips and kissed her deeply sparking a look in her eyes that made him weak. He handed the phone back and dropped his head to the back of his chair, asleep in minutes.

The wait for their connection was long enough for Claire to check in with Laoghaire and Geillis also. She drifted to the gift shop and purchased a beautiful bracelet made in Africa. She felt done with the excursions into remote parts of the world to render aid to the less fortunate. She just felt empty inside for such an effort again. Deep inside she knew the reason. She had her suspicions for a month but couldn’t confirm it. She felt lonely suddenly and walked quickly back to Jamie who was awake.

“Hey, sunshine, how do you feel?”

“Sleepy Sassenach. I want ye to keep me awake so tell me a story, aye?.”

Claire held her breath, wanting so badly to tell him her truth.

“Jamie, I think I’m pregnant.”

He stared at her for a good minute, expressionless, “stay here Sassenach, I’ll be right back.”

Jamie ran to the boarding counter and asked where he could find a drugstore in the airport. He sprinted away while Claire watched in total confusion. He must absolutely hate the idea, she thought as she slipped into depression.

Ten minutes later Jamie ran back with a small bag and lifted Claire to her feet guiding her to the ladies' room.

He put the bag in her hand and pushed her into the room, looking wide-eyed, almost wild.

Claire took the pregnancy test out of the bag and read the instructions. She still could not read Jamie’s emotions and felt her folly at surprising him with something life-changing and yet unverified. Holding the stick in the air to dry it she looked at the results window and felt her world tilt. It took so long to get to the sink when she looked at herself in the mirror Jamie was standing behind her.

“May I see it, Sassenach,” he whispered, looking at Claire’s pale face.

When she lifted the stick for him, he grabbed her and spun her around until she was dizzy. She smiled weakly at him trying to take in his reaction. He was absolutely beaming and kissed her face a dozen times telling her this was the best news. He gushed over her ability to make him deliriously happy, neither of them noticing a toilet flushing and a woman join them at the sink. She smiled knowingly at the two young people in love.

Spoken with a Swedish accent she told them, “now you must get off the street and get a job for your baby. You will be very happy.” She walked out of the restroom leaving Jamie and Claire clearly shocked at what she said.

Claire bent over laughing at the comment. “No shower for three months makes us look like bums on the street!”

Jamie looked like he had seen an angel and wrapped her up in his powerful arms.

“Sassenach, when we land in Scotland, I will have an agenda that will keep my mind occupied for at least two days. I willna have the brain space to utter a single sentence I’m afraid. Come, lass, let’s talk about this miracle and makin an honest woman of ye while I can.”

Jamie pulled her back to their seats and looked at a confused Claire.

“I don’t understand Jamie, what is so important for you when we get home?”

Jamie held her cheek and sighed, letting her see his need for her, making her squirm in her seat. “Oh, I see, well that trumps everything, doesn’t it? I love you Jamie and as long as you still look at me that way, I fear nothing.”

The second leg of their trip home, Claire curled up against Jamie and dove into the calming sea of her dreams. Jamie pulled her head to his lap and made sure nothing and no one disturbed her. It was a magic seven hours for him as he contemplated the family of his future with the fierce loving, free spirit who slept in his lap.

When the front door opened, two battle-weary lovers dropped their duffle bags and struggled to the shower. Jamie covered Claire with her favorite body wash followed by scented shampoo that made her moan with pleasure. He pulled the shower curtain aside and wrapped her in luxurious towels before heading back for his own time with the soap. When he emerged, the beard and mustache were quickly eliminated, and he felt like a new man anxious to devour his love in the slowest, most thorough way possible. He walked into the bedroom with his curls dripping water onto his shoulders and found Claire sitting on the side of the bed, head jerking up from falling asleep. His heart nearly melted in his chest as he pulled her to him and held her down until sleep came and took her away.

Claire woke up feeling groggy from her deep sleep. She knew they had two days to re-acclimate before work pulled them apart. Jamie looked like an angel to her as he slept. She could take a bit of time to recreate the body she preferred. She snuck quietly to the second bathroom and filled the bath with hot water and scented bubble bath. She placed two new razors on the tub and scraped off the unwanted hair that invaded her most intimate body parts over the last three months. It was liberating and unleashed her arousal, dormant for so long. By the time she was done, it was a struggle not to jump on Jamie and win her release that was throbbing between her legs.

Standing at the foot of the bed, she watched him sleep, noticing the room had become grey with the coming sunrise. She knelt to kiss his feet, followed by his calves, licking the back of his knees and causing him to gasp. She ran her tongue slowly up the back of his legs and buried her face under his buttocks to lick his balls until he flipped over and looked at her.

Jamie struggled to contain his need to pound her and his mind was full of this wonderful woman. I must slow my heart, he thought. She is kneeling over me naked and I canna get enough of her, clean shaved, smelling like sex. Her hair is falling around her face as she runs her eyes up and down my body. Jesus, she is beautiful and has no idea how I want to take her. Brutally, lovingly, dominating her body and mind until she gives in to me. I must fight the urge to consume her. She is the mother of my child and I will use all my strength not to overpower her. God, when she pulls my nipple into her mouth it strips my resolve. I want to take her, my way, without consent, without mercy, until she’s mine.

“Sassenach, my love, come here.”

She is resistant. Careful lass, dinna tempt me, I’m no that strong. What is this? No, not a good idea, keep yer beautiful mouth away from me. It’s not fair but oh…my…God it feels so good. Jesus lass, stop or I’ll come down yer throat before I can worship yer body. Come here, love.

Claire felt Jamie pull her to his lips and crush her. He flipped her over and pulled her legs apart feasting his eyes on her gorgeous pussy. She dropped her fingers to her fold and held it apart for him to gorge himself on her throbbing core. She arched her back into her first orgasm and tried to pull him to her. He entered her softly and slowly making her pant for more. She grabbed his face to her and looked him in the eye.

“I don’t want Sunday school. If I say, uncle, I do the wash for both of us. Show me how much you love me Jamie, right now, and don’t hold back or I’ll go back to sleep, I swear I will.”

For the next thirty minutes, Claire felt the power of Jamie and it thrilled her as he pulled her into the most intimate and edgy positions that most women would push away from. She opened her body to him, and he feasted, growling into his orgasm that stung his balls as he ejaculated. Claire was vaguely aware of the quilt pulling up to cover them and Jamie’s soft kisses on her face. They were clinging to each other as they fell into another five hours of sleep only to repeat the intensity once again.

Many hours later, Claire heard the quiet ringtone alerting her to a call coming in. She patted the bed until she found the offending phone and opened her eyes just before clicking the dismiss button. She answered hoping she could stay awake long enough to let him talk.

“Joe, why are you calling in the middle of the night?”

“It is one in the afternoon gorgeous and it’s time to get up.”

“No, it’s time to sleep some more dear one. What do you want?”

“I want to say welcome back to civilization, hear about your tour in Sudan, and one more thing Claire.”

She looked at the phone and shook her head, trying to wake up. “What other thing Joe?”

“I found Luna.”

“What?!”

“She’s in an orphanage Claire, has been since the raid on the hospital. The rebels leveled the settlements nearby and Luna’s family was wiped out. Thank God those monsters have respect for the innocent. I thought you would want to know.”

Claire was on her feet and pounding Joe with questions as she paced the bedroom. Running for her laptop she brought up the URL Joe dictated and raced through the pictures of babies and children that were up for adoption. Her fingers abruptly stopped when she found the face of her angel and she gasped at the sight of her.

“Jesus Christ Joe, she’s been in that place for over a year! How can I get her out?”

“It’s not easy Claire, but someone has to help her.”

Joe gave Claire the number to call the adoption agency in Honduras and what little he had discovered about Luna. He warned her the adoption protocols were temporarily closed for unknown reasons and forwarded the email listing the steps to adopt a child from a country outside of Honduras. It included two stays in-country to live among the culture of the child as the agency went over her dossier.

Claire was crying with the love and fear she felt for Luna and promised Joe she would keep him posted. When she felt Jamie’s hand on her bare shoulder she looked up into compassionate eyes and she felt him say, I’m here to help you, trust me with your truth, I will help you bring her home.

Claire clicked off from Joe and dissolved into her tears and fears while Jamie held her with his strength.

Jamie looked at the pictures of Luna on the website and felt his heart open up and pull her in. Her face was the picture of innocence, her huge eyes revealed her loveless life and fear. He waited for Claire to be distracted and returned to her picture again and again. Claire loves this beautiful little girl like she was her own. Something had to be done.

Luna became their project during their off-hours. Returning to work was hard enough, but Luna was a constant presence in both their minds. The requirement for being considered as an adoption family were rigid including two prolonged stays in-country. When Jamie brought that up Claire would start shaking and he could see the war going on in her head.

“Stay in Honduras for two weeks? I could see Luna during that time, but we must be invited and they have had our dossier for three weeks, Jamie. When are we going to hear from them?”

Claire was clearly scared shitless about entering that country again, even when Jamie assured her the city was safe. He talked it over with John during an afternoon hike when Claire was working. When John bid him farewell he followed up with, “I’m going with her Jamie because you can’t. Tell her to schedule the visit right away before I’m assigned to a case.”

When Jamie told Claire John would go with her to Honduras she cried and hung on his neck. Within a week, Claire was invited by the agency to come and see Luna. Jamie had mixed feelings letting go of her at the airport.

“Sassenach, I’m so sorry I canna go with ye. Are ye alright with John lass?”

She looked into his eyes feeling such gratitude he would let her go without him. She smiled and kissed him before breaking out of his embrace to jog to her boarding gate. John settled into the seat next to her and complained that her pregnancy put a stop to partying enroute to Honduras.

“You’re a very selfish person, curbing my happiness on this trip. I just wanted you to know that Claire.”

She smiled at him and got comfortable for the long plane ride to a country she hated.

They strolled through the nursery the next day, a requirement of the agency to look at all the children up for adoption. Claire could hardly breathe waiting to see Luna. She heard a familiar cry and looked through a window at numerous cribs with children inside. The minute her eyes saw Luna she struggled to stay on her feet. Tears rolled down her cheeks and she smiled at the infant who was having a tantrum, shaking a stuffed toy in Claire’s direction. They were forced to view the rest of the infants before returning to the nursery where Luna was.

Claire walked directly to Luna and smiled at her obvious recollection. She held her arms out for her and Luna moved into them gripping Claire’s hair with both fists and burying her face in Claire’s neck. They both clung to each other with tears that flowed freely. Even John was choked up and turned around to cough harshly. The rest of the afternoon, Claire held Luna in a huge rocking chair and seemed far away in a world she shared with Luna alone. John paced the hallway watching with growing concern.

“Jamie, I’m worried. These two are obviously bonded and Luna remembers her. Claire is in another world and just wants to hold her. I’m not sure this will end well for Claire. What should I do?”

“Protect her John. Dinna let anyone close to Claire. Other than that, let it play out. Ye willna be able to drag Claire away until they tell her to go, aye?” Claire cried so hard on her last day with Luna. She heard the baby wailing for her until they were out the door of the orphanage. John held a weeping Claire all the way back to Scotland and was anxious to hand her to Jamie to console. He really didn’t get the emotional part of this mission.

Claire returned to work and pushed Luna out of her mind so she could function. The next in-country requirement was a four-week stay in Honduras and Claire made contact with the agency every week asking for an invitation to come. She was being stone-walled without any explanation and it was taking its toll on her.

Jamie watched her brave attempts to act normal but as her pregnancy progressed her expanding waistline reminded him constantly of her delicate condition. He was prepared to accompany her to Honduras as soon as they were allowed. The weeks turned into months and Claire could not take it anymore. Jamie held her close and promised to find an answer to why they had not been processed already. He looked into her eyes and asked her with a sincere and loving heart to marry him, right now.

The following weekend, they were married at the Justice of the Peace with Jenny and Ian standing as witnesses. Claire was six months pregnant and Jamie knew the window of opportunity to travel to Honduras was closing.

Cutter answered Jamie’s call with a heartfelt hello to his friend. Jamie asked about other means to push the adoption through since the agency had closed the proceedings at the order of the government. It was a match to kindling as Cutter felt Claire’s despair to save Luna. He remembered her asleep on the Lazy Boy with a hand in the incubator, waking every hour to feed this doomed child. He was mobilized to cut through this ridiculous bureaucracy and get some answers from the agency.

On a whim, Cutter wrote a letter to the president of the United States, detailing the surgical procedure that saved Luna and how one nurse fought for her against all odds. He told of her bravery when the hospital was raided, how she was shot and barely escaped her own death. These terrible events befell her because she pledged two years of her life to help the Hondurans. He included her husband’s bravery when he got all of them out of the country, risking his own life. He completed the letter with his wish to reunite this forgotten child with the only mother she ever knew. “Go with God.” The envelope was sealed and sent.

A month later, Cutter received a letter from the White House. A duplicate letter was received by Jamie and Claire. Both letters were signed by the President with the amazing news that Luna was coming to America the following weekend and they were invited to the Dallas airport to greet her.

Claire sat down hard in the rocking chair and stared at the floor as Jamie read the letter. She looked up expecting the next shoe to fall and watched Jamie typing into his phone. Claire was frozen watching Jamie pace as he arranged a flight for the following weekend. She felt the tears fall down her cheeks as she waited to hear bad news or wake up from a dream.

Jamie knelt on the floor to look into her eyes. “She is coming home Sassenach, in four days! The president arranged this for you, and for Luna. Be happy Sassenach, it is happening and we will have her home with us by next week!”

Jamie pulled Claire into bed and held her close telling her it was going to be perfect and to have faith. Claire gripped his sides and shook, feeling so small in this miraculous undertaking.

Claire gripped Jamie’s hand at the Dallas airport and heard her mantra repeated over and over again, please let her be on that plane, please let her be on that plane. She looked up at an entourage coming out of the plane. They were obviously secret service and surrounded a woman in the middle of all those bodies. Claire and Jamie stood waiting, barely breathing.

A petite, young, blonde woman with striking features was revealed and she held Luna in her arms looking around for a familiar face. When her eyes found Jamie she smiled and walked to him, seeing Claire’s face she knew who she was. Luna was handed to Claire as she dissolved in grateful tears and sat down to avoid falling over as Luna’s face pressed to hers.

Jamie looked down at the office manager and his eyes were shouting his thanks to her. “Mission accomplished soldier, I would salute ye if I could. I am so grateful.”

She looked at him with compassion, her face showing her delight in helping this mission come to pass. She placed her hand on Jamie’s arm.

“The U.S. President salutes you, Jamie, from behind the scenes as you and I have come to know it. It was a three-country effort to arrange the adoption, the U.S., Scotland, and Honduras. How the U.S. President got involved I’ll never know but it was his clout that got the attention needed. Luna belongs to the two of you now. I pulled strings to get assigned to this mission so I could carry her to you. It’s my going away present and no one is more deserving than you.”

Jamie was reeling from the disclosure. He looked up and saw Dougal hanging back looking like he was a stranger, waiting to board his flight. He turned slightly and locked eyes with Jamie and the two men nodded slightly to each other. Jamie looked at Claire and Luna feeling like his heart would burst in his chest. There was much to do to ready the house for this precious child and another soon to be born. He took a deep breath and looked for the office manager but she was gone, as was Dougal. They melted into the airport population on their way back to Scotland.

Jamie felt the tears on his cheeks and sat down next to Claire and Luna, holding them close and thanking God for this miracle. His head was bowed as he prayed his thanks until a tiny hand reached out for him and pushed her body toward him. He pulled Luna to him and locked eyes with his new daughter.

“I’m Da, Luna.”

She touched his face and then his tears with her finger, looking at him like he was the most important person she had ever met.

“No more fear lassie, ye’ll have a life of love, I promise.”

Jamie struggled to push the tears back. Not for his pride or appearing weak. He wanted his eyes clear so he could see his two lassies and Claire’s round abdomen that held his next son or daughter, closely protected and fiercely loved.

The End.

The spirit in me bows to the spirit in you...Namaste and thank you.

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thecomicsnexus · 6 years ago

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The Blue Beetle

BLUE BEETLE #1 DECEMBER 1939 BY WILL EISNER?, CHARLES NICHOLAS WOJTKOWSKI?

SYNOPSIS (FROM DC FANDOM)

A pharmacist named Doctor Franz provides rookie police officer Dan Garret with a special vitamin and bulletproof costume so that he can fight crime as the Blue Beetle.

Police Officer Dan Garret dives to the sidewalk as a speeding sedan goes by pumping machine gun ammunition sporadically and shoves a man out onto the city street. Ignoring his wound, Garret checks on the man who turns out to be banker Mr. Vander, who along with his daughter and secretary, were recently kidnapped. Vanders' last words turns out to be his informing Garret that his kidnappers were the White Face Gang. Garret learns that the sedan that Vander was pushed from, has been found and he investigates the car, to discover that the identification number has been filed off. Garret uses a chemical that reveals the number on the vehicle and he learns that the vehicle is owned by a garage owner, Mike Ravani. Garret makes his way to a drug store, owned by his friend Abe, to change into his guise as the Blue Beetle. In another part of the city, Vander's daughter is being tortured for the combination of her father's bank vault. One of the thugs is shocked to see a blue beetle emblem on the desk and they quickly discover that the Blue Beetle has crashed their little party. The Beetle tells the gang that he has the combination to the vault so they don't have to torture the girl anymore. The telephone rings and one of the thugs speaks to an unknown person. Beetle gives them the combination and the thug informs everyone that that is the same combo that he had just received from someone on the phone. They gang heads for the bank and given a brief moment alone, The Blue Beetle calls the police station on a wireless telephone that he invented, to let them know that the Blue Beetle, apparently a wanted criminal to the police, would be at Vander's bank at midnight. When the Beetle and the White Face gang arrive at the bank they are all gathered up by the waiting policemen, except for the Blue Beetle, who uses a smoke screen to make his escape. It is revealed that John Brandes, Mr. Vander's secretary, was actually the leader of the conspirators. Later, Dan speaks to Abe, who apparently knows of Garret's dual-identity, and he thanks him for making that call to the thugs that reiterated the same vault combination, thus making them more likely to trust the Beetle and lead to their capture.

As loan shark crime increases, Dan Garret goes undercover and borrows money from a loan shark. When his loan comes due, two of the loan shark's collectors come to accost him, but he beats both of them up and leaves a blue beetle with them so that they know who is on to them. The try to quit the racket, but the leader reminds them that he has their signed confessions that could lead them to the electric chair. At that moment, the Blue Beetle bursts through the window and beats all of them and leaves them tied up outside Police headquarters with each man's confession.

CONTEXT

The original Blue Beetle, Dan Garret, first appeared in Fox Comics' Mystery Men Comics #1 (cover-dated August 1939), with art by Charles Nicholas Wojtkoski (as Charles Nicholas); A rookie police officer, he wore a special bulletproof costume and took "Vitamin 2X" which endowed him with super-energy, and he was assisted by a neighborhood pharmacist in his fight against crime. Blue Beetle starred in a comic book series, comic strip and radio serial, but like most Golden Age superheroes, he fell into obscurity in the 1950s. The comic book series saw a number of anomalies in publication: 19 issues, #12 through #30, were published through Holyoke Publishing; no issue #43 was published; publication frequency varied throughout the run; and there were gaps where issues were not published, with large ones occurring in early 1947 and between mid-1948 and early 1950.

In the mid-1950s, Fox Comics went out of business and sold the rights to the Blue Beetle to Charlton Comics. That company published a few sporadic adventures of the Golden Age character before revamping the hero in 1964. Charlton tried three times to use the character to carry a self-titled series. Two of the attempts retained the numbering of a previous title. These also were eventually replaced with new titles that carried on the numbering.

"Charles Nicholas" is the pseudonymous house name of three early creators of American comic books for the Fox Feature Syndicate and Fox Comics. The name originated at Eisner & Iger, one of the first comic-book "packagers" that created comics on demand for publishers entering the new medium during the 1930s–1940s Golden Age of comic books. The three creators were: Chuck Cuidera, Jack Kirby and Charles Nicholas Wojtkoski (several sources say Wojtowski).

Wojtkoski is most likely the actual creator of 'Blue Beetle', although this is often credited to Charles Nicholas Cuidera. He created the character when he was 18-19 years old, but was forced to sell the rights to 'Blue Beetle' to support his family shortly before going into service in World War II. Working at the Iger Studio in the early 1940s, Charles Wojtkoski did several features for Timely/Atlas, Fiction House, Quality, National and Fox Comics.

Several sources credit Chuck Cuidera, who also went under the name Charles Nicholas, as the character's creator, since he did art on several of the early stories. Cuidera claimed in a panel at the 1999 San Diego ComicCon to be its creator. However, in an e-mail sent to Lambiek, Wojtkoski's nephew says otherwise:

My late mother, Anne DeGiuseppe (nee Wojtkoski) told me on many occasions (as early as the 1960s when I was a teenager) as to how she helped my late uncle select the name ('Blue Beetle') as they searched for the right combination of words. She also told me how her parents decided in the late 1930s to sell the rights to the character to raise money.

Now you may decide not to believe me as to my late Uncle's creation of the Blue Beetle character, but as a practicing attorney of more than 30 years I can certify under penalty of perjury that Charles Nicholas Wojtkoski was the creator of the Blue Beetle character and that Chuck Cuidera, although apparently a renown cartoonist himself, was the beneficiary of my grandparents decision to sell the rights to the character and is wrongly (if not falsely) being given credit for the creation of the Blue Beetle character. In other words, Chuck Cuidera was the beneficiary of the purchase of the Blue Beetle character name and rights to use the pen name Charles Nicholas.

To further demonstrate the veracity of my claim, isn't it apparent that since my uncle's first and middle name were Charles Nicholas (he would later legally use his middle name as his family's last name), that he is the original Charles Nicholas. Why would Chuck Cuidera call himself Charles Nicholas, other than the fact that he purchased the rights to use that name?

Finally, I had the occasion some years ago to meet Michael Uslan, the Executive Producer of the Batman movies, when we both lived in Cedar Grove, NJ, who confirmed that he knew of my late uncle and was able to provide me with biographical information on his careers which information referred to his real name, Charles Nicholas Wojtkoski, and credited him with the creation of the Blue Beetle.

Joe DeGiuseppe

Now, I am not entirely convinced by this testimony. In the beginning of the Golden Age, comic-book artist preferred to use pseudonyms as it was considered a lesser profession. Furthermore, “packagers” would often put all the artists under the same name. The reason Will Eisner comes up as the writer of these stories is because they came from his shop.

FOX FEATURE SYNDICATE

Victor S. Fox and business associate Bob Farrell launched Fox Feature Syndicate at 480 Lexington Avenue in New York City in the late 1930s. For content, Fox contracted with comics packager Eisner & Iger, one of a handful of companies creating comic books on demand for publishers entering the field.

As one of the earliest companies in the emerging field, it employed or bought the packaged material of a huge number of Golden Age greats, many at the start of their careers. Lou Fine created the superhero The Flame in Wonderworld Comics; Dick Briefer created Rex Dexter of Mars in the eponymous series. George Tuska did his first comics work here with the features "Zanzibar" (Mystery Men Comics #1, Aug. 1939) and "Tom Barry" (Wonderworld Comics #4). Fletcher Hanks wrote and drew Stardust the Super Wizard in Fantastic Comics in 1939 and 1940. Matt Baker, one of the few African-American comic book artists of the Golden Age, revamped – in more than one sense – the newly acquired Quality Comics character Phantom Lady in 1947, creating one of the most memorable and controversial examples of superhero "good girl art".

Future comics legend Jack Kirby, brought on staff here after freelancing for Eisner & Iger, wrote and drew the syndicated newspaper comic strip The Blue Beetle (starting Jan. 1940), starring a character created by Charles Nicholas Wojtkowski in Mystery Men Comics #1 (Aug. 1939). Kirby retained the house name "Charles Nicholas" for the comic strip, which lasted three months. Kirby, additionally, created and did one story each of the Fox features "Wing Turner" (Mystery Men #10, May 1940) and "Cosmic Carson" (Science Comics #4, same month).

Fox Feature Syndicate sponsored a "Blue Beetle Day" at the 1939 New York World's Fair on August 7, 1940, beginning at 10:30 a.m. and including 300 children in relay-race finals at the Field of Special Events, following preliminaries in New York City parks. The race was broadcast over radio station WMCA.

Throughout the 1940s, Fox produced comics in a typically wide variety of genres, but was best known for superheroes and humor. With the post-war decline in superheroes' popularity, Fox, like other publishers, concentrated on horror and crime comics, including some of the most notorious of the latter. Following the establishment of Comics Code Authority in the mid-1950s, Fox went out of business, selling the rights to the Blue Beetle to Charlton Comics.

According to Nicky Wright, "Competing well in the 'most sexy, sadistic, and violent' category, Victor Fox's Murder Incorporated and Blue Beetle are noteworthy.... When historians describe sleaze, sex, and violence as Fox's obsession, they are masters of understatement. His best artists, Jack Kamen and Matt Baker, are much revered and collected for their good girl art. (Of special note is the company's breasty crime-fighter-in-bedroom-lingerie, Phantom Lady...along with the wild and scantily attired Rulah, Jungle Goddess.)”

Boyd Magers said of the publisher, "Never one to overlook a secondary sale, Fox often repackaged four remaindered (unsold) comics into a 25¢ Giant with a new cover, hence Hoot Gibson's Western Roundup, 132 pages dated 1950. However, since Fox always started their stories on the inside front cover (where other publishers ran an ad), these repackaged comics are always missing the first page of story content. Also, since Fox used remaindered issues, contents will vary from copy to copy of Hoot Gibson's Western Roundup."

Fox Feature Syndicate, located at 60 East 42nd Street, filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy reorganization in July 1950, listing liabilities of $721,448 and assets of $932,878, which included $567,800 in uncollected accounts receivables. Central Color Press of the same address filed likewise, listing liabilities of $513,587 and assets of $603,427. Fox was listed as president of both corporations.

REVIEW

Whether Will Eisner wrote these stories or not... I can imagine why he wasn’t desperate to prove that. As these are pretty generic. The one story that stands out is the origin story. I found the character a good role model.

But I think the most interesting aspect here is the art. Some of the reprints look pretty standard for the Golden Age, but the origin story looks very different. The angles and dynamism are incredible for the time. There is also a strange “passage of time” panel.

But then the book falls apart. All the reprints from Mystery Men have the Beetle with different uniforms and features. One of them has antennae!

So I would recommend the issue only for the origin story.

I give the issue a score of 7

#blue beetle #Fox Feature Syndicate #comics #review #charles nicholas #1939 #golden age #world war ii

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svtmatokis · 7 years ago

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I..am back! I AM SO SORRY GUYS T-T I’ve been so busy with job transitions that it’s been my main focus but I’m all settled in now and ready to get writing again! I’m still taking requests though I do have a few stories in the hole right now that should be done this week. Thank you all that have read my stories and thank you to any new followers. ^_^

Here’s a really quick Wonwoo drabble that I’ve been working on for the last little bit ^_^

Dedicated to @springpinwheel who needs some cheering on as she finishes her exams this week!

Prompt: You're the younger sister of one of the older members and you visit one of their fan meets, and Wonwoo is like holy shiz who is that girl, but he has no idea you're related to one of the members.

Pairing: Wonwoo x You

Genre: FLUFFFFFFFBALLLLLLS

Words: 5915

SC: Y/N!!! Where are you!?! The meet and greet starts in five minutes~!

Y/N: Calm down.. I’m hiding in the crowd…. Explain to me why I’m here again?

SC: Cause I’m the best older brother in the world?

Y/N: Yea……….guess again…

SC:.........

SC: I’ll tell your bias that you have a crush on him. Now stand up and yell “SCOUPS OPPA I LOVE YOU!!! YOU’RE THE GREATEST!” so I know you’re here kekeke

You scoffed as you read the text from your older brother. You knew you shouldn’t have told him about your crush on a certain member of his but it had slipped on a night that you two had met up for a late supper after he was done practice.

(Flashback)

“And it’s so stupid cause all the girls in our hometown won’t stop asking me about you and if I’ve ever met your members” you said half shoving a piece of meat into your mouth.

“Well it’s why you moved to Seoul right? To get away from my crazy fan girls?” He asked grinning at you.

Seungcheol had finished practice late that night and the two of you had made plans to have dinner but because of the time, you ended up at a roadside stand with a bottle of soju between the the of you and a lot of meat.

“That and because mom was driving me crazy at home” you said taking a shot. “Ah, your Oppas doing this, he’s doing that. He’s going to this place. Why can’t you be more like your brother?” You mimicked your moms voice as Seungcheol cracked up. You had her voice spot on.

He loved having moments like this with you. The two of you were only a year and a half apart, him being born in August and you being born in February so you guys were a lot closer than you two let on. He would vent to you about all the hardships he went through as a trainee and now as a big time idol and you would vent to him about the tough relationship you had with your mom and just life in general.

You two were each others biggest support systems and that’s why Seungcheol worked so hard to keep you a secret. The only members who had met you were Jeonghan and Joshua when the three of them came home to Daegu to visit, but other than that, the other members are only knew that he had a sister but had no idea what she looked like.

“Dad’s been good though right?” Seungcheol asked knowing you were daddy’s little girl.

“Oh yea, dads been great and his referral for that internship at the publishing house is helping a lot too.” You said taking your third shot, you were starting to feel the alcohol but it was only with Seungcheol that you were able to drink so freely.

Seungcheol nodded his head taking a shot himself. “That’s good. So that means you can hook Wonwoo up with some books then right?” He asked grinning but it fell when he noticed the slight blush on your cheeks.

Jeon Wonwoo. You knew of all the members and Jeon Wonwoo was someone Seungcheol would talk about a lot. You didn’t know much about him, but knew that he was a big reader. Almost as big as you were. He was the quiet type but when he rapped, he was like another person. Oh and don’t forget that deep voice of his, you could listen to that voice for days and never get tired of it. Yep, if you had to choose your bias in Seventeen, it was definitely Wonwoo.

“Y/N, who’s your bias in Seventeen?” Seungcheol asked out of the blue causing you to look at him, your cheeks flushed. Unsure if it was from the alcohol or your brother bringing up Wonwoo.

When you refused to answer, he nodded his head. He knew you well.

“It’s Wonwoo isn’t it.” He stated taking another shot. When you refused to answer, he poured you another shot making you drink. “Y/N, we’re close right? You know you can tell me anything. Even about...boys…?”

You nodded your head, it was true. You and Seungcheol told each other about everything including when either of you were having girl/boy problems. Neither of you judged the others taste and in your opinion, you were a great wingwoman.

“Soo…” Seungcheol urged and you let out a sigh, pouring yourself another shot, the alcohol slowly kicking in.

“Wonwoo’s my bias.” You stated and that was all you were going to admit, or so you thought.

“Is he ONLY your bias? Or does my little sister have a crush?” He teased grinning causing you to glare and throw a slap at him but because of your inebriated state, missed making Seungcheol howl. “Is that why whenever you’re at our fan meets, you’re always wearing that black cap?! So he won’t see your face?!”

“You, my dear little sister, likes the introvert of Seventeen.” He laughed, “I knew you were weird when you were born.”

You slammed your cup down as you stood up, ”So what? Didn’t you say Jihoon’s pretty much an introvert too? So what if I like the quiet type, I think they’re the most mysterious.. That’s what Wonwoo is. Mysterious.” You said before realizing what rubbish came out of your mouth and soon Seungcheol was bent over on the ground, clutching his stomach in pain from the laughter.

“Stop laughing.” You whined holding your head in your heads, “And get off the cement! What if someone sees you!?” You said going around the table to help him up.

“I. Cannot. Believe. Of. All. The. Members.” Seungcheol took a huge breath as he continued to laugh, “You. Fell. For. It’s. Jeon!!! Freaking Jeon!!” He stood up with the help of you and the table.

Once he was more composed, he smiled drunkenly, “I was expecting it to be Joshua since the two of you hit it off so well the last time we all met up. But Jeon Wonwoo!! Of all damn people!” He started cracking up again as you shook your head, regretting ever having told him.

(End of flashback)

Knowing he wasn’t joking, you pulled your black cap tighter against your head before standing on the chair.

“S COUPS OPPA!!! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!! YOU’RE THE GREATEST!!” You yelled as cheers of agreement surrounded you. A staff member came over, motioning for you to sit down in your seat before you looked up at Seungcheol who was grinning madly at you. “I hate you” you mouthed to him as he made a heart gesture with your fingers.

Joshua turned towards the sound of the voice and held back a laugh the moment he noticed that you were the one who yelled out though letting out a chuckle instead which caught Wonwoo’s attention.

Joshua told Jeonghan who had screamed which made Jeonghan to burst out in laughter.

“I wonder what he threatened her with now.” Jeonghan said to Joshua as the two laughed together.

Wonwoo leaned over to Jeonghan, his curiosity peaking, “You know her?” he motioned to you in the crowd.

Jeonghan nodded his head, “Yea, she’s a fan that’s been to all our fan meets since day 1. She always brings the best gifts” He explained happily which wasn’t a lie, you were at every fan meet, just more often than not, you would wait till the end and you and Seungcheol would go out for dinner. It was tradition.

Wonwoo nodded his head, “Ah...that’s why she looked familiar…” he said. Now he remembered you, you were the girl with the book tattoo on your wrist.

He never had a good look at your face though since you wore a black cap half the time but whenever you would come up to him, you would greet him warmly and talk the longest with him before you moved on to the other members. He noticed all the little things, he also noticed you would stick around till the end of the fan meets but would mysteriously disappear after the boys were off the stage.

He made it a point to watch you for the remainder of the event. You sat in your seat, often on the phone though you wouldn’t talk to the other fans. You were more to yourself, the black cap hiding half your face.

When the fan meet actually started, he saw how you waited till the end as the other fans went first. He smiled and greeted each of the fans but would still keep a small eye on you. He couldn’t explain why his curiosity was hitting him so hard, but he had this hunch that you weren’t just some random fan and he wanted to ask you about your tattoos.

Throughout the fanmeet, you were texting Seungcheol.. The one text that caught your eye particularly was one he sent towards the fanmeet.

SC: Don’t look now, someone’s watching you ;)

You looked up from your spot and looked at the boys table. Jeonghan and Joshua smiled waving at you but next to them, Wonwoo was just straight staring at you, causing you to blush immediately and look away.

SC: Are you coming up yet? The last of the fans are coming….I have a surprise for you later so stay till the end.

Finally, it was your turn to go up and meet the boys. Your first stop being Seungcheol.

“Oh! Were you the fan who screamed earlier?” Seungcheol asked with fake enthusiasm, “I didn’t know you were such a big fan. You’re at all our fan meets right?”

Playing along you nodded your head enthusiastically but said in a monotone one you were sure no one was next to you.

“Yes, SCoups oppa is my favourite Oppa.”

Seungcheol chuckled before you handed him the gift you brought him, aka your famous chocolate chip cookies before he slid you a pass and a note making your eyes widen. No freaking way.

Feel like meeting my members today?

“I hope we can meet again” he said waving and smiling cheerfully as you inwardly rolled your eyes but smiled nodding.

The slipping of the backstage pass did not go unnoticed by Wonwoo as you moved down the line to the other members. He, Jeonghan and Joshua waited patiently since you were the last fan left.

His full attention was on you the moment you were at Jeonghan.

“Ah, Y/N” he heard Jeonghan say, “It’s been a while.”

You smiled at Jeonghan as he signed your CD. “It has. Though I was at your fanmeet in Daegu a few weeks ago…”

“That’s right... you were and the gift you brought was delicious.” He said smiling angelically.

“Well..” you said handing him a bag, “I hope you enjoy them again then!” You said smiling. Once you said your goodbyes, you moved on to Joshua who you normally talked to everyday. Almost as much as you did with Seungcheol.

You and Joshua had instantly clicked the moment you met, both being anime freaks and complete dorks which was probably why Seungcheol had assumed that Joshua was your bias/crush. Though you two had established a best friend relationship almost instantaneously.

”Hey Y/N, did you bring cookies for me too?” Joshua asked smiling as you handed him a bag.

“Yah, why is his bag bigger? Do you like him better?” Jeonghan asked as you laughed.

Wonwoo watched your interaction with Joshua and Jeonghan and realized that you might be a bit closer to them then you let on. You were okay being informal with them and as you were leaving Joshua you caught the tail end of the conversation.

“I’ll text you about the latest chapter later.” Joshua said after signing your CD.

“Sounds good.” You said casually before moving to Wonwoo.

“Anneyong!” You said waving enthusiastically at Wonwoo, you swore you heard Seungcheol somewhere down the line choke back a laugh.

“Ah, annyeong” he greeted in his deep voice. “How you been well?” He asked as you handed him your CD.

You nodded your head as the two of you spoke briefly about books you’ve read recently before he asked about your tattoo.

“Oh,” you looked at the three book tattoos on your wrist with various titles. “It’s just the titles of my favorite series that holds a deep meaning.” you smiled. “It was nice seeing you Oppa.”

You walked off towards the staff, showing them your pass and waited with them until the boys wrapped up the fan meet.

Once off the stage, Seungcheol ran towards you waving before engulfing you in a huge hug and spinning you around. Raising many questions from the other members, specially Wonwoo who couldn’t help but feel a little bit of jealousy bubble inside of him. He knew he didn’t have any reason to but there was something about you that he liked and seeing Seungcheol’s arms around your small frame made his heart drop though hearing the words that left your mouth made him and the other boys laugh.

“Put me down you sweaty fool.” you said struggling to get out of his grip and looked to Joshua and Jeonghan who stood the closest to you.

“Put her down Hyung, the kids are watching.” Jeonghan said patting the leaders arm. “You’re making them question things. They don’t know her remember?”

At that statement Seungcheol froze before putting you down and grinned at his members.

“Hyung….is there something you want to tell us? Or someone you want to introduce us to?” Jihoon asked looking at you with a skeptical look.

“Ah...that’s right..” Seungcheol said rubbing the back of his neck chuckling slightly as all eyes were on him. You had safely put yourself between Jeonghan and Joshua, a slight blush on your cheeks since Wonwoo was literally behind you.

“Guys, this is Y/N….” he paused as everyone waited to hear who you were, some thinking you were his girlfriend, others thinking you were something more, a few thinking that you two were siblings. “My little sister.”

You heard a sigh of relief come from behind you but thought nothing of it as you greeted the members with a wave.

“Hi, sorry you’ve had to put up with my brother so long.” you said which got you chuckles from around the group.

“I know we have a tradition, but what do you say about coming to eat with the members today?” Seungcheol asked.

You thought for a few moments before nodding your head, “Sure, lets go.”

The place the boys chose was fairly close to the venue so instead of taking the car, everyone decided to walk.

All the members had surrounded you, all wanting to get to know their leaders infamous sister that only the 95’ line had met.

“Are you really Hyung’s younger sister? You act so much more mature than he does.” Mingyu said causing you to giggle and Seungcheol to glare.

“Yep, related through blood, sweat and tears.” You said nodding, “Thank goodness we don’t share a brain” you shot a smirk at Seungcheol.

“Hey!”

Wonwoo watched as you interacted with all the other members and liked how they had taken an instant liking to you. He noticed that though you were surrounded, you managed to hold yourself well. It must have been a trait that you and Seungcheol shared since he saw that trait from him.

“What do you do for work?” Dino asked, your answer catching Wonwoos attention.

“I work as an editors assistant at a publishing house” You said side eyeing the book lover of Seventeen who had slowed his pace.

“Oh really? That’s cool! So you guy to see pre-leases of books then right?” Seungkwan asked.

You nodded your head, “Something like that, I’m actually in charge of the book launch events so whenever a new book gets released, I plan when and where it’s going to be or wherever the author desires.”

“Yea, it’s cool cause she gets to take me” Seungcheol said as they entered the restaurant, him purposely putting you next to Wonwoo though on your other side sat Joshua.

As everyone conversed amongst themselves, Wonwoo hesitated if he should say something to you or not. You were having a pretty animated conversation with Joshua about some anime the two of you had watched and he didn’t want to interrupt. That and he was feeling extremely shy around you.

His prayers were answered when you turned to him.

“What do you think Wonwoo-shi?” you asked catching him off guard since he wasn’t even paying attention to the conversation and was surprised that you actually spoke to him since you haven’t said anything to him since the fan meet which made him think that you didn’t like him but in reality, you too were extremely shy to talk to your bias/ crush.

“Sorry?” he asked and facepalmed realizing how stupid that made him sound.

Joshua looked at him and gave him an empathetic look, deciding to help his member out.

“She said that mangas are like picture books for adults though I can’t agree with that since I consider manga an escape where you can just shut your brain off-”

“Shut your brain off? Really Joshua Hong? Shut your brain off? Is your brain even on for saying that?” You asked giving Joshua an incredulous before looking at Wonwoo, “Tell this non-novel reader here that-“

“Non-novel reader? Excuse you? Who actually READS the pre-releases that you give your brother huh? ” Joshua interrupted but you cut him off again.

“Sorry tell this sometime-novel reader that the only way you can actually shut your brain off is when you immerse yourself in a good book, where you can visualize your setting and characters…” you said starting to get dreamy eyed in which Wonwoo and Joshua both noticed.

“Well I’ve lost her to her land of books” Joshua said which made you stop once you picked up on what he was doing. “Maybe…” he gave you a sly glance, “You can tell Wonwoo about that book launch that you’re planning on inviting us to.” He then turned his whole body to drop in on the conversation Vernon, Mingyu and Seungcheol were having.

You silently cursed the cat-eyed boy before turning to face Wonwoo who was looking at you with curiosity.

“You’re inviting the members to a book launch?” He asked casually though the curiosity was killing him on the inside. He had always wanted to go to a book launch but the opportunity never presented itself but knowing that you worked at a publishing house, the opportunity may have just arrived.

“I was going to invite the 95’ line..” you said hesitantly ‘and you’ you added silently, “Seungcheols been to a few but he gets bored easily. Only goes to socialize with the people he knows and have the food. He doesn’t exactly talk to people about the book itself. I figured if I invited a few more people, he won’t be so opposed to discussing the book though he’s never read them.” You explained.

Wonwoo nodded his head slowly but was disheartened to hear that you were only inviting the 95’ line but his spirits were automatically lifted again when he heard,

“The guys told me that you were into reading...would you maybe be interested in pre-reading the book and coming to the launch?”

His head whipped so fast that you were sure that he got whiplash but couldn’t help but smile at the look on his face.

“R-really? Pre-read a book and attend the launch?” He asked just in case he had heard wrong as you nodded your head.

“I know Joshua will read the book regardless if he’s interested or not, knowing Jeonghan he wont read it just like Seungcheol and I only get three pre-release copies so I don’t see a point in giving it to people who won’t read it.” You explained. It was the truth, every book you gave to Seungcheol, you were 99% sure that they ended up on Wonwoo’s bookshelf and because you knew Wonwoo had too many books to count, he probably didn’t realize he had a few new additions.

“You should really check your bookshelf in the dorm to see if there are any titles you don’t recognize. I wouldn’t be surprised if he just put them on your bookshelf for you to find.” You mentioned.

Wonwoo chuckled, “That explains why I have less space on my shelf. I bought some new books a few days ago and couldn’t put them all away.”

You giggled which Wonwoo found really cute, “Oh really? What were they?” You asked putting a piece of hair behind your ear turning your attention to him and soon any awkwardness, if any at all between you two diminished as the both of you got lost in a conversation about several titles he bought not seeing the knowing looks Seungcheol, Joshua and Jeonghan threw at each other.

After dinner, everyone stood in front of the restaurant, you saying goodbye to the boys since your apartment was in the opposite direction of the restaurant.

“Are you’re okay going home alone?” Seungcheol asked putting a hand on your shoulder, “It slipped my mind that this place was in the complete opposite direction.” He looked at you apologetically.

He would’ve walked you home himself but he and the unit leaders had a meeting to discuss the next comeback with the other producers and Joshua and Jeonghan had another schedule or else they would’ve done it as well.

You nodded your head while shrugging your shoulders, “I’ll be fine. What’s the worse that could happen?” You put your hood up as you turned to the group with a big smile on your face.

“It was nice to finally meet you all. I hope we can all see each other again soon!” You said before each of the boys came to hug you one by one, under Seungcheol’s watch of course.

“Bye Noona! Remember, you promised Ice cream!!” Seokmin said as you walked away making you laugh.

“You promised me ice cream too!” Chan and Seungkwan added.

“And you have to teach me how to make your chocolate chip cookies!” Mingyu yelled as you got farther away.

You laughed and yelled back, “Get my brother to buy your ice cream and I’ll pay him back! And we’ll set a date for the cookies Mingyu!” You turned around and started the trek to your apartment as you heard the maknae line cheer at the mention of ice cream on their leader but didn’t see the glare that Seungcheol threw at your back.

As you walked near the river you facepalmed. You still had one more gift to give.

‘Oh well’ You thought to yourself, ‘I’ll give it to him next time…’

“Did you seriously just smack yourself in the face?” A voice behind you asked making you jump and whip around to see who it could have been. You were surprised yet relieved to see who it was.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, a slight blush making its way to your face as you attempted hide it with your hat.

Wonwoo shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, “Hyung asked me to walk with you,” He paused before changing his words, “Well he asked me to follow you but when you stopped I thought something was wrong so walked faster to see you smack yourself in the face so instead of looking like a stalker to everyone, I figured it’d be better to make my presence known.”

“Well thank god it was you..” you muttered to yourself but Wonwoo had heard.

“What was that?” He asked not sure if he had heard right though he hoped he had.

Deciding to just go with it instead of debating with yourself, you looked down at the bag in your hands before slowly holding it up.

“I’m glad it was you who came and not one of the other members.” you took a breath, “I wanted to give you this at the fan meet but I forgot. Well I didn’t forget, it slipped my mind when you asked me about my tattoos but here.” You handed him the bag which he took, your hands brushing slightly, causing you both to feel the electricity shoot up your arms making you blush harder and Wonwoo to blush slightly as he cleared his throat.

”Ah...thank you” He said, a small smile making its way to his face.

During the fan meet, before he had known you were Seungcheol’s sister, it was clear that you had only brought gifts for the 95’ line which initially made him think that you biased that line but after the event, it was clear that the three of you had met before.

He opened the bag and what he found inside made his jaw drop and his face held a look of awe.

“How did you know?” He asked, “Better yet, how did you get these?”

Inside the bag were autographed hardcover cover copies of the series you had tattooed on your arm which was also his favourite series along with a large tin of chocolate chip cookies.

“The author was in town and our publishing house received a copy that was raffled off at our last company party and I was the one who won them. I heard from my brother that the copies you had were getting worn out and I have my own autographed copies when I went to her book launches so I thought I’d gift them to you at the next fan meet.” you smiled, “Take care of them.”

Wonwoo looked down at the books and backup at you, a smile permanently on his face.

“Do you...maybe want to go for a quick coffee? Because the titles are tattooed on your arm, I’d love to hear your thoughts on the series.” Wonwoo said not knowing where the confidence in him came from.

You two went for coffee that evening and both had a really great time talking about your job and the books that you’ve both read, finding that you had common interest in the same genre.

(A month later)

“What’s going on between you and Wonwoo?” Seungcheol asked casually from the bar stool in your kitchen.

Today was the day you were teaching Mingyu how to make your chocolate chip cookies and because the boys had a free day. Seungcheol decided to tag along, one reason being because your cookies were the best fresh out of the oven and also because he wanted to ask you about a certain member of his.

“What do you mean?” you asked as you watched Mingyu measure out the ingredients. “You want to add slightly less sugar because a lot of the sweetness comes from the chocolate chips.” you explained to Mingyu who took out more sugar.

“Don’t you what do you mean me. I know you’re the one texting him when we have our breaks. He barely looks away from his phone when he isn’t reading and he’s barely at our dorm anymore. Right Mingyu?” Seungcheol looked at the taller one asking him for help.

“He has a point.” Mingyu said as he watched the mixer. He was too focused on learning how to make your cookies. That’s how good they were, “Where has Hyung been?”

“I’m surprised he isn’t here right now.” Seungcheol said.

As if on cue, the electronic lock on your door beeped meaning someone had entered the code and was coming in and to Seungcheols surprise, It was Wonwoo carrying coffee and his backpack which was probably full of the books you lent him,

Seungcheol looked at you with disbelief.

“He knows the key code to your house too?!” he asked both him and Mingyu looking at you with incredulous looks. Now this was definitely new.

You shrugged your shoulders as if it were no big deal.

Whenever Wonwoo had breaks, he would give you a call to see what you were doing and more often than not, the two of you would either hang out at the book store or go for a meal with one another. Sometimes you would visit the members at the Pledis building and hang out with them during their practice breaks.

After practice, Wonwoo had developed a habit of calling you to see what you were doing and a lot of the times, the two of you would end up on your couch watching movies or talking about literature over some hot chocolate until the wee hours in the morning though you both knew you had to be at your respective jobs in the morning.

Most of the time, if not all the time, you would be the first to doze off during the conversation which Wonwoo found extremely adorable and would carry you into your bedroom before tucking you in before taking his leave, always writing you a note normally of a quote of a mutual book you both read.

The first time it happened, Wonwoo realized he didn’t have the code to your door to lock it and had to wake you up which proved to be a harder task than waking up Seungcheol he found so that was the first night he found himself asleep on the couch with the blankets and pillows that smelled like you making it one of the best sleeps he had in a while despite the ache he had in his back from the couch. Thus, you gave him the code to your door so he could leave as he pleased.

The status of your relationship was never brought up between you two and you were okay with that. You enjoyed one another's company and that was all that mattered. Wonwoo was someone you could talk to about the things you couldn’t talk to with the others. Not because you felt like you couldn’t talk to anyone, you just felt that Wonwoo understood certain situations more than the others.

After setting his stuff down, Wonwoo nodded at Seungcheol and Mingyu who were just staring at him before taking a seat on the bar stool next to Seungcheol.

“Are they broken?” Wonwoo whispered to you as you shook your head.

“You didnt knock.” you whispered back as realization dawned on his face before a grin replaced it.

“Ooops.” he looked at Seungcheol who was just staring at him. “Hyung?”

“Hyung? HYUNG?! That’s all you can say after walking into my little sisters home without knocking and all you can say is HYUNG?!” Seungcheol started before going on a small rant about how his little sister was spending way too much time with him and that it was probably the reason why you and Seungcheol haven’t gone out for lunch or dinner as often as you had before.

Once he was done you looked at him with your arms crossed, “You done now?”

Letting out a breath he nodded his head, “Yea….”

“Great, are you guys almost done then? Y/N and I have dinner plans.” Wonwoo stated and that drove Seungcheol into another rant.

“Dinner? DINNER?!”

You sighed and took one of the cookies from the first batch and shoved it in his mouth.

“I swear, you were adopted.” you said before explaining, “A few of my co-workers at the publishing house just finished the book that’s set to launch next week so we’re going to discuss the book and the launch. I gave Josh and Wonu-”

“Wonu?” Seungcheol croaked at the nickname.

You rolled your eyes as Mingyu and Wonwoo both laughed at their leaders antics though in reality, Wonwoo shouldn’t be laughing at all.

“I gave Josh and Wonu a copy of the pre-release but since the staff is getting together today, I invited him” you pointed at Wonwoo, “so he could share his thoughts as well and get to know some of the people from my publishing house.”

Seungcheol could only stare at you and Wonwoo, realizing that he had done this. He had encouraged this that night he found out that Wonwoo was your bias in his group. Now that he really thought about it, it didn’t seem like a bad idea, Wonwoo was a lot more mature than the other members and you two did have a lot in common.

“That...makes sense...so he’s coming to the launch next week.”

“Yep.” you and Wonwoo chorused.

“Well at least someone there would’ve read the book.” Seungcheol joked as you and Mingyu finished up in the kitchen so you and Wonwoo could leave for dinner.

“I’ll see you back at the dorm.” Wonwoo said not too long after as the four of you stood outside your apartment.

“Yah, make sure you come right back to the dorm after dinner. No funny business” Seungcheol said his older brother instincts kicking in.

You, Wonwoo and Mingyu rolled your eyes.

“Aren’t we having a movie marathon tonight?” you asked Wonwoo who nodded his head.

“We’ll see you guys next time.” you said waving as you turned around, unable to put up with Seungcheol much longer.

Wonwoo said his goodbyes while Mingyu dragged a whining Seungcheol back to their dorm with a few large containers of cookies.

A week later, you and Wonwoo were walking by the river after the successful book launch event.

“So what did you think about the launch?” you asked casually as you looked out at the sunset.

“It was so cool, I never expected to meet all those authors and publishers. It was amazing!” Wonwoo said excitedly before looking at you. “Thank you for inviting me.”

You giggled, “Well thank you for coming. It was nice to see someone actually discuss the book with them for once instead of discussing other current events…”

You walked in a comfortable silence as your hands bumped against one another. Wonwoo who had finally built up the courage was the first to act on what everyone in Seventeen saw the past month and grabbed your hand.

You stopped walking to look down at your joined hands before looking up at him, a blush visible on your cheeks.

“Y/N…” Wonwoo started not looking at you, a blush very visible on his cheeks.

“Hmm?” you asked as Wonwoo turned to look at you.

“I’ve...had a lot of fun with you these past few weeks.” he started.

You nodded your head and smiled, “I’m glad, so have I.”

“Do...you think we could spend more time together? More without the members and maybe just the two of us as...maybe...more than friends?”

If your face wasn’t the shade of a tomato before, you were sure it was by now.

“Are you….” you started but got confirmation as he nodded his head.

Instead of replying, you took a step towards him and leaned up which Wonwoo caught on with and quickly pulled you closer so he could wrap his arm around your waist.

“Be mine and mine only. Let us live happily ever after like the characters in the book.” he whispered as he closed the distance and pressed his lips softly against yours.

You were both so in the moment that you didn’t realize that Seungcheol, Jeonghan and Joshua were walking right behind you and had seen the whole thing.

“YAHHHHH WHO SAID YOU COULD KISS MY SISTER HUH!?”

#seventeen #seventeen imagines #wonwoo #wonwoo imagines #seventeen scenarios #wonwoo scenarios #kpop #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines

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your-dietician · 4 years ago

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How the Copa America soccer tournament in Brazil is spreading COVID-19

New Post has been published on https://tattlepress.com/soccer/how-the-copa-america-soccer-tournament-in-brazil-is-spreading-covid-19/

How the Copa America soccer tournament in Brazil is spreading COVID-19

Just after nightfall about 60 miles north of Rio de Janeiro, Marlus Jesus was whisked into a hospital after hours to verify that he didn’t have coronavirus, then ushered into a hotel room.

His secret mission? The Brazilian soccer star Neymar da Silva Santos Júnior and several teammates wanted haircuts.

“I started cutting hair at about 8 p.m. and finished after midnight,” said the 32-year-old barber. “I cut the hair of seven or eight players.”

He couldn’t resist posting a selfie with Neymar on Instagram.

The haircuts, which quickly became national news, burst a strict “sanitary bubble” meant to keep COVID-19 out of the Copa America, the premier soccer tournament on the continent.

The event has been shrouded in controversy since organizers hurriedly moved it to virus-stricken Brazil in early June, less than two weeks before kickoff. The original co-hosts, Argentina and Colombia, had suddenly bowed out, citing an alarming rise in coronavirus cases.

Brazil, where COVID-19 has claimed at least 525,000 lives, a toll second only to the United States, was a curious second choice. Infections were surging to unprecedented levels as the country entered a devastating third wave. But, to the shock of many, President Jair Bolsonaro enthusiastically agreed that Brazil be the host.

“From the beginning I have been saying, when it comes to the pandemic: I am sorry for the deaths, but we have to live,” said the far-right populist, who is being investigated by a congressional committee for his handling of the pandemic, including possible corruption related to the purchase of vaccines.

Government health authorities and Copa America’s organizers say those taking part of the tournament are following strict protocols to avoid infections, as 10 teams compete in four Brazilian cities. Crowds are barred from stadiums and players must stay in their rooms when not training or playing matches. Nearly 26,000 coronavirus tests had been administered as of this week.

But outside health experts say the event is complicating Brazil’s fight against the virus.

At least 165 new cases have been linked directly to the tournament. A total of 37 were players, coaches, trainers and other team personnel, while 125 were drivers, caterers, cleaners and others providing services for the tournament. Three work for Conmebol, the South American soccer federation, which provides medics and referees to the tournament.

“We’ve seen that the majority of cases were not among players — they were the people providing them with services,” said Dr. Lucia Campos Pellanda, an epidemiologist and dean of Porto Alegre’s Federal University of Health Sciences. “It’s really cruel — to expose people who are already vulnerable.”

Without systematic contact tracing, authorities are unable to determine how those infections may have spread coronavirus into the wider population.

Enforcing protocols — and controlling the players off the field — has proved challenging. Members of Chile’s team were accused of partying and inviting prostitutes to their hotel. Venezuelan team members infected with the coronavirus allegedly broke quarantine, sneaking out of their rooms. Hotel workers who came in contact with the rogue players complained that their pleas for testing were ignored for days.

With the Tokyo Olympics just over two weeks away, Brazil may serve as a grim bellwether on whether behemoth multinational sporting events can be held safely as the pandemic still rages on. Already, the Summer Games have sparked protests, as coronavirus cases surge across Asia.

“Even if the risk is minimal, even if an event like this results in a single death — is it worth it?” Pellanda asked.

Outraged Brazilians have dubbed the tournament “Cova America,” rebranding it using the Portuguese word for “grave.” Memes of a coffin kicking a coronavirus have swept through social media.

Brazil has advanced to the final, scheduled for Saturday. But many fans say that even if it wins and retains the title it captured in 2019, there will be little to celebrate.

“There just isn’t that same joy that the game usually brings,” said Júlia Passos, a 21-year-old food service worker. “This time, it brings a lot of sadness. Because it can’t erase what happened, how many people have died.”

Her family, like so many others, saw the devastation of COVID-19 up close. Her stepfather spent a week in hospital, struggling to breathe.

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“With all the pain Brazil is going through, that we’re going through,” Passos said. “It is not the time to host a huge sporting event like this.”

Still, she couldn’t turn down a gig in one Rio stadium hosting some of the matches. Out of work since March, the young mother needed the income. On game days, she earns $20 serving food and drinks to the coaches, organizers and security staff.

Passos managed to get one dose of COVID-19 vaccine, and she and her colleagues are tested for coronavirus every other day. Nonetheless, she said, the job feels risky, starting with her 25-mile commute from the outskirts of the city.

“We end up so exposed. We take trains packed full of people to get to work,” she said. “But I really needed the work.”

Her stepbrother, Júnior Campos, needed money too and also jumped at the chance to nab a job at the stadium. Yet, even as a soccer fan, the tournament left a bitter taste.

“I lost my uncle and, just last week, I lost my best friend too,” said Campos, 21, who was applying to colleges when the pandemic struck. “We’ve lost so many people to the virus. And so many are still dying. It’s absurd to have this event, to pretend like life is back to normal here, like in Europe.”

The Euro Cup, which is being held in 11 countries across the continent, kicked off in June amid easing lockdowns and ramped-up vaccination campaigns in many of the host nations. But even with reduced stadium capacity and rigid travel restrictions, the tournament has failed to fully avoid infection. The World Health Organization sounded an alarm recently, pointing to overcrowding and clusters of cases.

Health experts warn the risks are even greater in Brazil, where just over 13% of the population is fully vaccinated. One particular worry is that highly contagious new variants could gain traction. The Delta strain — first discovered in India — was spotted in one city hosting Copa America matches, though authorities are still unsure if it infected tournament participants.

In the last two weeks, daily coronavirus cases have eased from June’s record peaks. But health experts still fear spikes. And with the lag between infections and illness and hospitalization, they warn that the tournament’s full effects may not become clear for weeks.

Unlike much of the world, Brazil never closed down to contain the virus. All along, Bolsonaro downplayed COVID-19 and urged Brazilians to keep working. Lockdowns, he insisted, kill more people than the virus by hurting the economy.

Brazil ultimately lost out on both fronts. As the virus ripped through the country undeterred, the pandemic decimated the economy. A welfare scheme helped keep informal workers afloat last year, but the aid was slashed significantly as public spending ballooned.

Angry Brazilians have taken to the streets, calling for vaccines, economic aid and impeachment of the president. Nearly 15 million are out of jobs and hunger has almost doubled, with 19 million routinely going without food during the pandemic.

Faced with economic need, millions risk their health in search of work, including in the Copa America.

On a recent morning, Viviane Azevedo served breakfast to the Copa America delegations at a ritzy hotel in Rio’s wealthy south zone. Still waiting for her second dose of vaccine, she was happy for extra shifts at the hotel that came with the influx of guests.

“It’s a disgrace really, hosting this tournament now,” said Azevedo, 43, who went back to waitressing after being laid off from a piercing studio early in the pandemic. “But for us, there’s no other way. In today’s Brazil, if you don’t take the risk, you’ll go hungry.”

Murilo Castro Vianna, 61, waited outside the same hotel in a white shuttle bus, ready to drive Uruguay’s team to training. Earlier in his 12-hour shift, he had dropped off an injured player at the airport. A few days earlier, a fellow driver had been sickened by COVID-19.

“I’ve spent every day of this pandemic on the street, working,” he said. Before this, he had driven around linesmen working for an electricity company. “Here, I’m being tested. I wear my mask, I try to be careful. That’s all you can do.”

Back at the barber shop he owns in Belford Roxo, a working-class neighborhood on the northern fringe of Rio, Jesus was clad in a face mask as he swiftly razed a little boy’s hair into a mullet, like the ones worn by soccer stars.

One chair over, an unmasked employee trimmed a client’s beard, then doused it in a fragrant spray. Stand-up comedy blared from the television.

Jesus’ secret mission last month wasn’t the first time he cut the hair of Brazil’s soccer elite. But the Copa America job was a chance he couldn’t pass up.

The tiny, bright shop had remained shut for much of the pandemic. Jesus kept cutting hair in the homes of clients, to stay afloat.

“Are we afraid of the virus?” Jesus said. “Of course we’re afraid. But we have to work.”

Ionova is a special correspondent.

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thehoneygloss · 7 years ago

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When Past & Present Collides

He had written a book that had changed you in a way that no other author has ever did. This was ruination.

The past and present has its ways of colliding — for you, it was Min Yoongi.

word count: 4.1k

genre: yoongi!author au, angst, fluff

Your first encounter with his book was in the city library. You were there for one of your study sessions with your best friend, Seokjin when you suddenly came across a book that caught your eye in the third shelf of the modern fiction section. It was written by a man named Min Yoongi. You had never heard of him before, but something about that book had caught your eye. And so you quickly checked it out and gave it a read.

Intuition

‘I fell madly in love with the way you write,’ Elaine gushed.

‘Well that’s very sweet of you, Elaine. In fact, I’d rather you fall for my writing than me at all. At least there’s some honesty in it,’ Apollo chuckled.

Enter a couple of accidental meetings, obnoxious bosses, and fate. There goes another story written.

You didn’t know what it was that fascinated you so much, but you’ve always had a thing for cliche love stories and his book seemed like a good cup of tea before bed, or so you thought.

It was perfect at first, a cliche meeting, putting things in the hands of fate. They had fallen in love, made love, and ‘I love yous’ were exchanged. It was swoon worthy up until you reached chapter 10.

Apollo is now back at home. Both tired and hungry he unlocks the apartment door and takes off his shoes, he then walks over to now his and Elaine’s room (he had asked her to move in a few months prior), changes his clothes, strides over the bathroom, unlocks his cabinet before washing his face. Still no signs of Elaine. But he brushes it off. She’s always been busy on Mondays and he understands. So he shrugs it off and walks over to the couch before texting Elaine.

They cancelled my trip. I’m in the apartment, when will you be back? Fancy a dinner? Apollo texts.

Just as he clicks the send button, he hears a ruffle on the door. And there she is, half intoxicated, locking lips with a unknown man, inside their apartment and trying her hardest to turn on the lights.

It comes as a shock to Elaine when she first notices Apollo there. Her first instinct: shoves the unknown guy outside. Then walks over to the now distraught Apollo, making barely audible excuses. But there’s nothing that she can do, after all, he did see them together, he did witness it happening. And no words of apologies can contradict with that.

‘Leave, Elaine. Get the hell out of my house!’

It’s strange, Apollo thinks, how easily people can change.

The end

This came as a shock to you too, not just Apollo. The mere thought of cheating sickened you, but the fact that it happened in your favorite book? Done by your favorite character that you related so well with? It didn’t just break your heart — it tore it to pieces and then threw it in the trash can right after.

What the hell happened to Min Yoongi for him to be such a godawful person and ruin such a good plot? And instead of complaining to yourself, you emailed him. Because out of all things he could have ruined, it was your favorite book he had to fuck up.

Dear Min Yoongi,

First of all, hello. This is Y/N, one of your many readers. I came across your book in the city library and thought that it was interesting enough for me to read. And I loved it. I fucking loved it.

The way Apollo wrote about her. The way Elaine fell in love with him. It was absolutely, heart wrenchingly, beautiful. Just swoon worthy.

That is, up until I reached chapter ten. That’s when I realized just how fucked up a person can be to have ended such a good plot in the shittiest way possible. How dare you break Apollo’s heart like that? How dare you end the book in such an abrupt way? Did you give up? Did your ex girlfriend send this to your publisher before you could even finish it but your publisher ended up loving it and so you let it be? What the hell is wrong with you?

It would be great if you would just respond to this letter.

Sincerely,

Y/N

There you were, sitting in your dorm room at 1 in the morning, furiously typing an email to a writer who, hypothetically speaking, broke your heart. It was pathetic, you admitted, to complain over the ending of a book. But so did Hazel Grace, and she went all the way to Amsterdam for that. So a short email was nothing. Right?

His reply was earlier than you expected. It was on a Sunday morning, two days after you clicked ‘send email’ on your laptop. It had surprised you at first, a quite well known writer replied to your email? A personal one? One in which you raged the shit out of him? One that was sent at 1 o’clock in the morning? It was strange, you admitted. For someone so official actually responding to something you had written. It almost felt better than reading your acceptance letter, almost.

Dear Y/N,

Hello, this is Min Yoongi. I am here to respond to your all too sweet and endearing letter of encouragement.

If I have to be honest with you, reading your email was very refreshing. Gave me a sense of ‘wow someone’s actually put their heart and soul into something I wrote? Wow, thanks!’. So thank you for that, really.

Now on to the next point. To be quite frank, I’ve always had a thing for sad endings, to me, they feel more realistic. Way more genuine than those all too cliche novels that 60% of the population has been fed by. Not that there’s anything bad with that. It’s just not my cup of tea.

To me, Apollo and Elaine are two star crossed lovers that just didn’t belong. I’m so sorry to break it to you but love doesn’t always end with a happily ever after. Some ends in a random Sunday afternoon after a cancelled trip to New York.

And it’s abrupt. Just like my ending. Abrupt and a bit un-settling. Some doesn’t even get to have closure. Some are just left hanging. Quite like my book. So that’s all I have to say.

Thank you, again, for reading Apollo and Elaine’s story and for the all too sweet words of encouragement. I’ll be needing that. And remember this: just because something ended, doesn’t mean it wasn’t beautiful.

All the love,

Min Yoongi

His letter had left your mouth hanging open. It was the kind of letter that was definitely sincere, not one that was written by an assistant in a run down apartment at 2 in the morning. It had a soul to it, whatever that meant, you felt something. Was it reassurance? Or was it something more? Whatever it was, you definitely needed to know more about him.

But nothing came out on Google. Just an old picture and a short description. He had never written anything other than ‘Intuition’ yet it was almost life changing? How was that possible? How on earth was someone able to both capture and break people's heart with little to no experiences before-hand?

Just the thought of that amazed you.

So of course, you decided to reply to him.

Dear Min Yoongi,

This is Y/N again. Okay, your reply had caught me off guard, not going to lie. I’ve had my fair share of author/reader emails and all of them had been redundant. Like you would think writers of all people would reply to their emails themselves? Especially ones from their readers? Guess not.

Anyways, it really surprised me that you took time to reply to mine. So, thank you so much. And also thank you for explaining. I really appreciate it.

Although I do think that even though some love stories doesn’t always end in happily ever afters, I like to think that one of the reasons we write is to get away from that thought. From reality.

Maybe happy endings do exist, you know? Just not in real life. It really could have happened in your book. But it’s okay, I get it. I completely understand where you are coming from.

Good luck on your future endeavors, looking forward to your potential new book.

All the love,

Y/N

You were worried at first, how honest and raw that reply was. But here was Min Yoongi, right in front of you (not literally) potentially replying to your email (again), who would ever waste that? You out of all people knew the answer to that.

‘Elaine?’

‘Yes?’

‘You know I’ve always hated my name. It reminds me too much of a spaceship than a greek word. It’s such a stupid name. I hate it. At least I did, and then I heard it came out of your mouth and now it’s best name in the world.’

To that, Elaine gives him a huge smile. All too beautiful and alarming that it scares the living shit out of him. Here is this almost perfect girl laying next to him, dressed in only his white shirt, smiling ever so fervently at him that he can burst. But the thought of losing all this alarms him the most.

Yoongi’s reply came a bit later than the last one. He was probably busy dealing with other things that genuinely mattered, like a book. Or potentially a girlfriend that he, hypothetically, wrote sonnets about. Because all you were was a reader that he barely knew, complaining over something he had written.

Putting it like that made you want to physically strangle yourself. But you shook that thought away as soon as you saw a notification in the corner of your laptop screen. Reply from Min Yoongi.

Dear Y/N,

It seems that you are quite surprised by the fact that I replied to your email rather than an assistant. Well, it’s quite obvious really, since you sent your ‘words of encouragement’ to my personal email. Not my business one, not the one that is run by my actual assistant. But it’s okay. I really enjoy talking to you. I really do.

If you don’t mind (and I’m not being a creep at all, and you can reject this invitation by simply not replying) would you be down for some coffee? Maybe this Saturday? I know from your location that you’re situated in Seoul. Email me your number? Will that be okay?

Thank you, again. For everything.

Sincerely,

Yoongi

There were, in total, three times in which you felt the the happiest. 1) When your mother decided to surprise you by appearing at your dorm holding a whole carry on filled with side dishes and beer. 2) When you realized that you had been accepted to your dream university. 3) When the school’s journalism team decided to recruit you as their editor.

Yet nothing could top this one. Not even free side dishes and beer. Because it’s Min Yoongi and he invited you for coffee this Saturday, and you’re not busy at all; for once, you thought, the world had turned upon its axis and decided to give you good news.

You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling.

Dear Yoongi,

Yes, yes I’d love to go out for coffee.

I’ll send you my number in the next email. On Saturday. See you there.

All the love,

Y/N

Saturday came quicker than you thought. You had woken up with such an apparent smile that morning that even your roommate could tell what was happening.

‘A date? With who? That writer?’

‘What? No.’

‘He might be a creep, just saying,’ she said half-jokingly, though you knew that deep down, there was an honest worry in her voice.

‘He’s not!’ You replied as you threw a shirt at her, half-jokingly, although just like her, there was still an undertone of worry in your voice.

But you kept that to yourself.

The cafe he suggested was not far from your dorm, only a couple of blocks away. And just like that, there you were, a couple of seconds away from meeting Min Yoongi and knowing all the nooks and crannies of his thoughts.

The cafe was crowded, filled with mostly university students trying to finish their papers before their assigned deadlines, some were just sitting with their friends chatting away, and then you saw him. Dressed in a black turtle neck, with his black coat lying next to him, a book in his hands and a pair of glasses on his face. To say that he looked beautiful was an understatement. He was alluring — the way he was reading that book, it was as if he was devouring every part of the book word by word trying to understand what the author was trying to say through every sentence — it didn’t help that he was holding one of your favorite books.

‘Jane Eyre?’ Was the first thing you say to him before he jolted his head up.

‘Sorry?’ Was his reply.

‘Min Yoongi, right?’ You hoped you were right, although you pretty much knew how he looked like from the amount of research you did on your way here. The possibility of him being a creep had scared you. And the result was another speedy google search of Min Yoongi.

One thing for sure, he was way more beautiful in person. The kind of beautiful that made you want to look twice. Didn't help that he had written something so beautiful and yet so bereft at the same time.

‘How do you know it’s me?’

‘I did a google search on you right before I came here,’ your all too honest confession had caught him off guard. Then he smiled.

‘You must be Y/N? Nice to meet you,’ his eyes diverted to yours, a set of brown eyes were now your center of attention.

‘How are you sure I’m Y/N?’

‘Well, the first thing you said instead of ‘Hi, I’m Y/N’ was ‘Jane Eyre?’ and then you sat down and honestly, I’m just using up my luck right now. Thank God, I was right,’ you chuckled at his response.

‘How do you like Jane Eyre so far?’

‘Brontë is a literary genius. I love this book, I’ve read it more than twice,’ he put down the book and sipped on his cup coffee. You could see the glint in his eyes, it was almost too evident, how happy he was. Whether it was because of the book or the company — you liked to think that it was the latter, but just like him, you adored Charlotte Brontë and just the thought of Jane Eyre made you smile like a little girl.

‘God, you’re such a writer,’ he nodded to your statement. And you could feel the evident blush showing on your cheeks. You also could’ve sworn you saw a bit of red on his face too. But then again — it might have just been caused by the cup of steaming hot coffee in his hands.

‘Apollo?’

‘Yes?’

‘I don’t want to lose you, ever. But the fact that it’s uncertain — both for you and me. The fact that all this might just come crashing down. It’s scaring me a whole lot.’

‘Come here, baby,’ Elaine then sits closer to him, laying her head on top of his chest, resulting in all their clothes laying on the floor and the almost too loud moans coming from their room.

‘Fuck, I love you,’ is the first thing that comes out Apollo’s mouth when he’s on top of her, rocking back and forth to a barely breathing Elaine.

It’s the first time he’s ever said it.

‘I love you too, Fuck, I love you too,’ is the first time she says it back.

It happened very quickly. By then, your clothes were all in his living room, his were on the floor, and he’s on top of you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear whilst putting his hands on every part of your body which led to his mouth kissing every inch of your skin.

He was good. He was too fucking good.

‘Fuck, Yoongi,’ was the last thing you said before his body came crashing next to yours. His breathing was uneven and your heart was beating too quick. The last thing you remembered before falling asleep was his hands pulling you closer to him and a,’I don’t want you to disappear like Elaine did,’ but before you could hear his all too honest statement, your eyes were already fluttered shut and into dream land you went.

By the morning, he was gone. You didn’t dare question him, after all, he had always been a mystery, even to you.

It was on a Monday morning when he appeared on your doorstep. A disheveled mess had made its way to his hair and he had smelt a bit like vodka. You had taken him in, your roommate was out of town and it seemed as if it was the perfect timing for him to appear.

And it was.

‘What’s wrong?’ He was sitting on the edge of your bed, his expensive black leather shoes were now tossed under your bed and his brown coat was now laying on your bed and he looked lifeless. As if the world had sucked all his soul out and all that was left was his body and a pair of blood shot eyes.

‘Do you remember when you first emailed me about ‘Intuition’ and asked me why I ended the book in the shittiest way possible and why I decided to make Elaine cheat?’

‘Yes, of course I do,’ how could you even forget?

‘Well, you remember how I replied right? I was being all philosophical and shit. Trying to justify my abrupt ending. And remember how I told you that love doesn’t always end the way Cinderella’s did, how it’s more ‘genuine’ if it was a sad ending?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well I lied,’ you were sitting in front of him, on the floor, facing his knees — and you could hear a hint of sadness in his voice.

‘What do you mean you lied?’

‘It’s not that I was trying to portray a genuine love story. It’s not that I was trying to be different — that book was my coping mechanism. It was my closure, writing that book was my closure. Fuck, what happened to Apollo had happened to me too,’ tears were making its way out of your eyes, his eyes were already wet and you just couldn’t help yourself from holding him.

You had your ways of coping. He did too; but you didn’t think that it would be something he decided to publish and let the whole world see. Just the thought of that immense amount of bravery and recklessness he had scared the living shit out of you.

‘I’m so sorry. I really had no idea. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I complained. Fuck, Yoongi, I had no idea,’ and you both laid down on your all too small queen sized bed until the late morning, and this time, he didn’t leave.

Instead, he said, ‘morning, baby,’ and intertwined his lips with yours.

It was in breakfast when you asked him about what happened the night before.

‘Who was she? If you don’t mind me asking, that is,’ his head jerked up.

‘What do you mean?’

‘You know, the Elaine to your Apollo. Who was the girl?’ It wasn’t that you needed to know, it wasn’t that you were the jealous girlfriend trying to get back at his ex, it wasn’t that you loved him. It wasn’t. It wasn’t, it wasn’t, it wasn’t. But did it help that without even knowing her name you already hated her with every fibre of your being?

‘I met her in University. We dated for a few years. I think I was 22 when I found out. I was visiting her dorm and she had no idea I was in town. What happened next? I’m sure you can tell. And her name was Sooyoung,’ his far too nostalgic confession had caught you off guard. But it wasn’t about the fact that you now knew who she was. It was the fact that he trusted you enough to be honest with you.

Everything that happened after that was far too magical for you to recount them one by one. But it was at a random book store visit when he first declared his love to you.

‘Should I go with Orwell or Woolf?’ You held two books to his face.

‘Hmmm, I say go with ‘The Waves’. But to be quite honest, I think you should get ‘Persuasion’ instead. Anne reminds me a lot of you,’ he chuckled and handed you the hard cover.

‘How come? You mean I’m old and not beautiful?’

‘No, I meant that you’re almost too good for me. For anyone, in that matter. And you’re constant. Austen portrayed Anne to be very mature in her nature. You’re basically the younger, more beautiful, and realer version of Anne Elliot,’ you let out a breath that you didn’t realize you were holding.

‘Well that’s very sweet of you to have compared me to such an iconic character. That’s really, really sweet of you. You do have a lot in common with Captain Wentworth.’

‘I’m just glad you didn’t compare me to Sir Walter,’ he sat down on one of the stools in the old creaky book store.

‘Seriously though. Your bravery, it’s almost uncanny. And he’s incredibly swoon worthy, I mean who the hell says, ‘You pierce my soul, I am half agony, half hope’?’

‘Well, Y/N, you pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. And I love you,’ you diverted your eyes from the book shelf to the man that was now standing behind you, too close that you could almost hear the faint sound of him breathing.

‘He didn’t say that. He didn’t say ‘I love you’.’

‘Well, yes. That’s because I said that. I love you. What? Don’t you?’

‘Don’t I what?’ You were both standing so close, his hands were on the creaky book shelf behind you. Your breath hitched.

But before he could reply, you breathily said, ‘I love you, Yoongi. I love you. I love you. I love you,’ and then he kissed you and you could've sworn you felt a smile on his lips.

It was in the winter when things came to a halt. Because as seasons change, so does feelings. And on a random December night, the universe decided that you have had enough and heart break was what came after that.

‘You did what?’ Your eyes were red, blood shot.

‘I met up with Sooyoung and she kissed me. And I kissed her back. And I just, things happen, you know? It just happened,’ and it was in that moment that you realized just how fucked up the universe could be. It was uncanny, how reality had woven itself into the fiction world that he had created. That without him realizing it, he committed a sin that he had sworn himself to not ever commit. That without him realizing it, he bad become the Elaine to your Apollo. All too beautiful and alluring yet ruined whatever it was you both had created on a random night with some other girl who had broken his heart.

It was strange how life worked.

‘Get the hell out of my room!’ You shouted at him, resulting in him walking away. And it was almost too casual. Too awfully casual that it seemed like a habit. God forbid it was.

You tried forgiving him. Dammit you tried. But he had broken your heart and all that was left for you to do was to pick up the pieces and let him go. As he said, some love stories just doesn’t end in happily ever afters.

You were no Cinderella; he was no Prince Charming. And fairy god mothers don't exist, at least not in the real world.

‘Hey, Elaine, would you ever cheat on me?’ Apollo realizes just how stupid that question must be. But curiosity does have its ways of ruining memorable moments.

‘What? No, of course not.’

‘What if you found someone who writes sonnets about you better than I can ever muster up?’ He doesn’t want to hear the answer.

‘Isn’t love all about letting go?’ (I should have known, I should have known.)

#yoongi angst #yoongi #min yoongi #suga #bts angst #bts fanfiction #bts #bangtan #yoongi fluff #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #yoongi author #author au

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meltingalphabet · 7 years ago

Text

The Reunion

This happened two years ago, yet, I can still remember it as if it were yesterday. I’ve told the cops what happened, I’ve told reporters and friends, my therapist... But I feel like I’ve never been able to tell the whole story to them. These people weren’t just victims, they were my friends. They were a huge part of my life. Their deaths weren’t simply the visceral manifestation of insanity, but an accumulation of the lives they had lead, ending prematurely at the hands of someone who misguidedly felt betrayed. I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me start, not at the beginning, but in the middle.

When you’re in your late thirties, you find that you’ve become distant from friends you were once really close with. In college, my wife Victoria (my friend and soon-to-be girlfriend at the time), and I were part of a tight-knit group of undergrads: Nick, Addison, Heather, Leann, Jacob, Ricky, Bianca, and Tom. The last time all ten of us were together, before the incident two years ago, was at Victoria and my’s wedding, back in 2012.

Nick and Jacob lived together in New York City. Nick moved there to be a big shot on Wall Street. He worked at some company named after three old white men, making much more than any of the rest of us. Jacob was focusing on his music, performing as lead guitarist in a Heavy Metal band that, based on social media, was actually gaining some notoriety in the city. Jacob and Nick had been best friends in college, and were still best friends. They had one of those bromances you see on television. They met in college when Nick passed Jacob’s open dorm and heard the sound of guitar. Nick ran to his room to grab his bass, and the rest, as they say, is history.

The other pair of best friends, Heather and Leann, had moved to the Bay Area after college, but unlike the guys, they eventually moved apart. Both were still on the west coast, Heather had moved to a smaller town outside of the city where she worked in publishing, and Leann had moved to Portland to work as a social justice lawyer.

Addison was living with her elderly parents in Boston while she worked on her nursing degree. She had recently divorced her husband of six years, and had become a bit elusive, so that was all I knew, really.

Ricky had moved the furthest, leaving the U.S. all together and living in London with his wife, where he became a fairly successful television writer for the BBC. I had watched all of his shows, though Victoria avoided them. They were filled with suspense, illicit affairs, and kidnapping. She preferred romantic stories or the Great British Bake Off.

Bianca and Tom got married a year before we did. They stayed in Hanover, not too far from Dartmouth, where we all went to school. Bianca owned her own pilates and yoga studio, and Tom, unable to leave college life, worked in the Administrative Department of the school.

Victoria and I moved to Connecticut after graduation so I could work at my father’s architecture firm. Victoria had been working in web development, but was taking a few years off to focus on our daughter, Molly. We had been dating for almost twenty years, cohabitating for fifteen, and married for ten. In that time, the two of us had grown from just two adults, to two adults, a three year old, a loveable, bossy Corgi named Rufus, two fluffy and infuriating cats named Ham and Cheese, and our most recent addition: a curious rabbit named Princess Twinkle (Molly had chosen that name).

Two years ago on a frosty February morning, I opened my email to find an invitation to a weekend get-together from Tom:

Hey Chuckster!

Long time no talk, man. Hope you guys are faring this hellish winter alright. We moved into our new house a few weeks ago (sidenote: I would not recommend moving in January), and we’re already having issues with the roof. Bianca has been busy renovating this baby since last May! She promised me it’ll be habitable any day now. This place is much too large for the two of us, but we’re hoping to fill it soon, if you know what I mean ;)

Speaking of kids, I saw the pictures you posted online last week of Molly opening her Christmas gifts. Man, she is huge! I hope Bianca and I get down to your neck of the woods soon to finally meet the little bugger.

Anyway, I’m emailing you because Ricky called last night and he’s going to be in town this March, from the 23rd to the 30th. I guess he’s doing a few guest lectures at Dartmouth. He asked if he could stay with us, and of course we were thrilled at the idea. Ricky and I got to talking, and we decided it was the perfect opportunity to try and organize a little college reunion! We’re thinking an old fashioned shindig, Saturday the 28th.

I sent an email out to the usual suspects. We’d love it if you and Victoria could make it up! We have guest rooms to spare, so you can spend the night. Hell, stay the whole weekend!

Feel free to bring the kiddo, though keep in mind she’d be the only one under thirty since the rest of us have yet to reproduce.

Love you man,

Hope to see you soon!

Tom

Victoria and I didn’t have any other plans for that weekend, and my mom and dad happily agreed to babysit. The next night, I sent Tom a response saying we’d be there.

For the next couple of weeks, Tom would send me regular updates on the party. Heather and Leann were the next two to agree to the plan. They decided to make the trip together. Heather was going to fly to Portland, stay with Leann for the night, and then the two of them would fly to Boston, where they would pick up Addison and the three would drive up to New Hampshire. A week later, Jacob finally convinced Nick to take the bus up from New York with him.

By early March, we were all booked and ready. Victoria and I were ecstatic. We hadn’t seen anyone since the wedding, which at that time, had been three years ago. Not to mention, as the bride and groom, we really didn’t get much time to catch up with old friends. This would be the first time we all hung out, just us, in almost a decade.

Victoria and I left home early Saturday, dropping Molly off with her grandparents before heading out. The weather report told us to expect some nasty rain that night, so we wanted to get to New England before visibility on the road was bad. We were pulling into Tom and Bianca’s driveway at a little after one in the afternoon, the New England sun high above us, trying to warm the chilly New Hampshire air. It looked so nice, so calm and peaceful. But I could see dark clouds crawling menacingly towards us when I lowered my head to the steering wheel to look up at the distant sky past the edge of my car’s roof.

Tom and Bianca’s home was quite large. It was a classic New England Colonial home, painted a light sky blue with white trim and shutters. A wrap around porch, an addition that was tastefully designed to not contrast the classic structure, stretched from the front door to the side. We grabbed our weekend bags from the trunk, and walked up the front steps. The large white door greeting us warmly.

Victoria’s hand hovered in front of the doorbell, and she looked at me, a huge excited smile stretching from ear to ear. “Ready?”

I laughed at her giddiness, “just ring it, weirdo.”

She pushed, a large chime filling the inside of the house. We waited a few seconds before the door burst open, and Tom stood in front of us wearing khakis and a pink polo. His dirty blonde hair shaggy, yet neat, just like it had been ten years ago. His smiled was crooked on his face, but I noticed a few lines tracing the sides of his mouth. Otherwise, he looked the same: young and cocky. Ego and self-esteem in abundance. His skin was tanned with time spent playing and lounging outside, and the beer bottle between his right thumb and forefinger was as much a part of him as his kind, intelligent brown eyes. I thought of the slight gut forming under my sweater as I noticed that Tom had retained, not only the confidence, but the lean athletic body of his youth.

“Fuck yeah! The adult supervision has arrived!” He hollered before embracing both of us in a warm hug. I could hear a female whooping come from deep in the house, which I instantly recognized as Bianca. Tom and Bianca had always been the partiers, while everyone else joked that Victoria and I were the group’s official old folks. Victoria’s obsession with knitting and my bizarre love of creamed corn helped solidify that reputation fairly early on in our freshman year.

“Come on, come on, the party's already started!” Tom ushered us inside. We followed him into the living room where Bianca and Ricky were sitting, drinking beers. Several hands of cards lay forgotten on the coffee table in front of them.

Bianca jumped up squealing before proceeding to attack my wife with a huge hug. She wore her long light blonde hair in a messy bun on top of her head, and was dressed in dark blue yoga pants and a white t-shirt. Her lips were a light shade of pink, that suited her pale complexion well. Like Tom, she managed to maintain the fit body from her successful cheerleading career in High School and College.

Tom left towards the kitchen while Ricky stood, extending his hand to me. I laughed at the gesture, and pulled him into a warm embrace. As we parted, I eyed him from top to bottom. A wannabe-novelist in his youth, selling out his craft for television had not affected his style much at all. He wore the clothes of a writer: dark jeans and a mustard yellow cardigan that played well with his rich mocha skin, but Ricky was not your usual poet. While one might expect the writer of our group to be lean and frail looking, the clean-cut clothing looked strained again the large muscular body underneath.

“Oh my god! I’m so excited you guys could make it!” Bianca said, finally able to speak intelligible words as she released Victoria from her grasp and hugged me.

“We wouldn’t have missed it for the world! And thanks, Ricky, for visiting and getting this going!” I said over her shoulder.

“I am the proverbial snowball that lead to the avalanche.” Ricky said, bowing jokingly to me. Tom reentered, arms full of cold beers.

Victoria snorted, taking a beer from Tom’s outstretched hand, “poetic, but I don’t think that’s a common idiom.”

Ricky gave her a silent half smile in return, the closest thing he had to a friendly chuckle.

“Fucking English majors.” Tom rolled his eyes, smirking.

“I know, right? We suck.” Victoria retorted and pushed Tom’s shoulder playfully. I tensed slightly. Tom and Victoria had dated for a hot minute freshman year, before quickly realizing their incompatibility. And by that, I mean Tom dumped her after a month because he didn’t want something serious. It didn’t take long for Tom and Bianca to drunkenly hook up at a frat party, and ironically, the two became pretty inseparable for the remainder of our college years, and beyond.

It took Victoria almost a year to recover from the break up. I was waiting in the wings, though. I spent nights comforting her, bringing her ice cream, listening to her lament the loss of another guy. It was worth it in the end, but it still made me uneasy when they flirted like this, even if it was just friendly, and even after all these years. I tried to shrug it off. Tom did flirt with everyone.

I grabbed the beer Tom offered and took a swig. My body loosened instinctively at the familiar ice cold taste.

Looking down at my watch, I saw that it was now two. “When does everybody else get in?” I asked.

“Any minute now!” Tom said excitedly, turning away from my wife to face me. “I just got a text from Heather that they decided to meet Nick and Jacob at the bus stop. Their bus was scheduled to come in…” he checked the time on his phone, “now, I guess. The girls got there twenty minutes ago. According to Heather, she talked to Nick and figured they might as well give the guys a ride instead of forcing them to take a cab.” I smiled, Heather was always the planner of the bunch. If it wasn't for her organization and leadership, our group probably wouldn't have survived long. “With that many bodies, they’re lucky Addison owns an SUV instead of tiny sedan like you guys.” Tom laughed, as if our twelve year old Accord was a joke everyone was in on. “If everything's going according to schedule, they should be here in half an hour,” he finished.

The doorbell rang fifty minutes later. “Bolla bolla bolla!” Tom yelled, throwing both arms into the air excitedly, spilling at least half of a beer in the process. I chuckled. I hadn’t heard anyone say that since college, when we were dumb drunk kids. I wasn’t sure Tom had ever stopped being a dumb drunk kid.

Bianca went to the door, Tom following her, continuing his juvenile call, which echoed off of the high ceilings.

Ricky, Victoria, and I listened to the door open, followed by both male and female voices joining in. “Bolla bolla bolla!” the cries reverberated to the living room. Ricky rolled his eyes, beaming, and Victoria snorted with laughter. I looked at my wife’s face, glowing with a carefree happiness I hadn’t seen since Molly was born. I smiled at her.

Suddenly, a gaggle of late thirty year olds flooded the room with high-pitched squeals and hugs. “Sorry we’re late!” Heather called out, “Nick had to fail at getting the digits of a cute girl from the bus, and we had to watch!” Heather, Leann, and Addison fell into a fit of giggling at this. Nick scowled.

I greeted my old friends, shocked at how much they had changed. Minus Jacob, who, like Tom and Bianca, looked exactly as he had in college. He still wore those round glasses that only artists with oval faces can pull off, or Harry Potter. He didn’t even look like he had aged. He was wearing a band shirt for some band I had never heard of and his long blonde hair was cut exactly like it had years ago. He always had a very Cobain air about him.

I had seen photos of Leann, Nick, and Addison on facebook, and had noticed the subtle changes over the years, but in person, they took my breath away.

The stress of divorce and taking care of her parents while getting her Masters seemed to be taking a lot out of Addison. She had been the nerd of the group: smart, focused, shy, but now she also looked tired, as if she was fraying at the edges. In college, she’d often abandon parties long before the rest of us were ready to go home. She prefered movie nights to frat houses, art exhibits to ragers, museums to bars. She had always been a bit sloppy, but now she just looked… frumpy. Her face old and lined, her brown hair already slowly turning silver.

Contrarily, it was startling to see Leann, Nick, and Heather as polished, successful adults.

Leann, who had always been a bit of a hippie with her long flowing brown hair, unshaved legs, and long skirts, now wore a shorter bob, her hair cut close to the bottom of her jaw, and with much less frizz. She wore some makeup, though very subtle, and her jeans and t-shirt were neat, clean, and fitted.

Nick still looked like he was trying too hard to be cool, but now he had an air of wealth that had never surrounded him in college. His baggy t-shirt with holes at the armpits was now a form fitting striped sweater. He still wore his hair chin length, but instead of looking greasy with unwash, it was neatly cut, combed, and, most importantly, clean. His beard was trimmed close to his face, and he smelled like soap and a very subdued cologne.

Heather was the most drastic. She had never embraced the trend of social media which began late in our college years, and so I did not have any hint about her physical transformation until now. She was never grossly overweight in college, but she was definitely not what you would call skinny. Bianca always had, and still had, the body of a cheerleader. Victoria, even after having Holly, was a naturally very slim person, with a small frame. Heather was much broader and taller. Her hobby of weightlifting always contributing to her feminine but strong physique, her love of fast food giving her some extra weight. Heather was still tall and broad, but now her body was lean with muscle and little fat.

I hugged the slim Heather.

“Wow, Heather, you look fantastic!” I said, releasing her.

She blushed, “heh, thanks.”

She turned to Tom, who winked while handing her a beer. The red of her cheeks deepened, and I noticed Bianca roll her eyes.

“The whole gang, back together! This is insane!” Jacob exclaimed.

Leann broke away from her hug with Bianca, “Damn, Bianca! Everytime I see you, I’m amazed at how young you still look!”

“Oh stop!” Bianca cried, waving her away.

“So, are you going to give us a tour of this ridiculously amazing home of yours?” asked Leann, gesturing to her surroundings.

Bianca smiled, pleased with the invitation, “of course! Follow me!” She and Tom led us from the living room into the large, modern kitchen, which shined with new chrome appliances.

Nick whistled. “Holy shit, this must have cost a fortune!”

Tom shrugged, “oh this? This was nothing.” He laughed. “This was all the beautiful Bianca’s doing!” He bowed to his wife, who beamed back. “Wait till you see the master bedroom!” And with that he bounded off.

“No, but really, Tom. How did you guys afford this?” Nick’s voice trailed behind him as he followed, leaving the kitchen behind, the rest of us slowly making our own way to the stairs.

“It might have taken a credit card or two to get this place up to snuff.” Tom admitted at the head of the migration.

Heather groaned, never one to hide how she really felt, “you know that's just asking for trouble, right?”

Bianca giggled, “oh, don’t worry about it, Heather. I’ve got it taken care of. Soon, Tom and I won’t have to worry about any of that.”

Jacob looked at Tom inquisitively, but he just shrugged.

Victoria leaned into my side, and I tilted my ear to her mouth as we walked behind the rest of the group. “This place is incredible.” She whispered, her eyes locking on mine. I felt a small twin pang of jealousy in the pit of my stomach. The place was fancy, clean, and immaculate. It was beyond impressive. Our own home was small, decorated in furniture that, if it didn’t start out as used, was now after ten years and a kid. Victoria and my’s love of animals and children made us give up on interior design, organization, and cleanliness years ago. Seeing homes like this always reminded us of our failings.

I put my arm around Victoria, squeezed her closer, and kissed her forehead. “Their place might be a palace, but we’re the ones lucky enough to be woken up at 7am every Saturday and Sunday morning by a small, bossy child and her equally small, bossy Corgi pal.” My wife snorted and pushed me away as we walked into the bedroom.

The room was almost as large as the kitchen. Hell, it might have been larger. The focal point was a large four post bed, draped with white silks. The furniture surrounding it was large, and made of a polished dark wood. In the middle of the ceiling was a small, but still quite grand chandelier. There was even a dark blue velvet chaise lounge in the corner.

“Check out the jacuzzi tub!” Tom cried, throwing open the french doors into the bathroom. Inside was a large round bathtub, with a glass shower next to it, containing many more shower nozzles than I ever thought would be necessary. Both the tub and the shower were surrounded with rich light brown marble.

Tom beamed at me expectantly. I nodded slowly, and said the only thing that came to mind, “wow.” Tom clapped me on the back, and then proceeded to jump onto the steps leading up to the tub. He raised his arms like a dictator about to give a speech.

“And this, ladies and gents, will be where the party ends tonight.” He winked again at Heather, who looked away, pretending not to notice.

“Sure thing, T-bone.” Victoria said sarcastically. “Can we like, not hang out in your bathroom anymore? It’s kind of weird.” Jacob laughed and we walked into the bedroom. Ricky, Nick, and Leann continued to lead us towards the bedroom door, but Tom interrupted the procession.

“Before we leave the luxury of the master bedroom, who wants to play the phone game?” Tom asked in a excessively sensual tone, an eyebrow raised.

“You mean that game kids play in preschool? You want us to get in a circle and whisper a sentence into each other’s ears until it’s gibberish?” Victoria asked, incredulously.

Tom laughed at this, the alcohol making his gestures and sounds grander than usual. “Not that one, though I guess we can try that later. Seems like Vicky and Chuck’s party games have changed slightly since having a kid.” Everyone laughed and Tom continued, “No, this is a different game.” He walked over and opened the door at the side of the room to reveal a large walk-in closet, complete with a middle island. Possibly for shoe storage? Or something similarly unnecessary and ridiculous.

He walked to a large safe set into the wall, and began spinning the front dial, stopping and reversing it occasionally as he entered the combination. “This is the no-distractions-at-the-party cell phone game,” Tom said. There was a large click, and he stepped to the side, opening the safe door in the process. The door swung heavily, revealing a large dark space. “Everyone who wants to participate in the best reunion ever, put your cell phones inside!” Tom beamed mischievously at us.

“Fuck no.” Victoria said, crossing her arms sternly.

“Yeah, I’m not doing that.” Leann agreed.

“Can you maybe explain the point of this game, Tom?” Nick asked.

“Isn’t it obvious? It’s to ensure our fun night isn’t interrupted. No work, no other friends, no family. Tonight, this house is our world and nothing exists beyond it.” He grabbed his phone from his pocket, and placed it inside the safe.

“I think it’s a good idea.” Bianca said, and handed him her phone.

Tom laughed, “yeah, cause it was yours, babe. Remember? You suggested it at breakfast yesterday.”

Bianca thought back, “was it?”

Tom chuckled and kissed her affectionately on the cheek. He turned to Ricky, “the memory on this one,” he said gesturing to her with his thumb.

“Who needs brains when you’ve got a body like that, am I right?!” Nick whispered loudly to Tom, as he elbowed him in the chest knowingly. Bianca smiled sarcastically at him and I heard Victoria groan quietly beside me. Nick could be an ass sometimes. Heather gave him a small smack to the back of the head, glowering at him. Nick shrugged at her sheepishly.

“Eh, yeah.” Tom said as he put Bianca's phone with his. “Anyway,” he turned to the rest of us, quickly forgetting Nick’s comment and continuing, “haven’t you ever played that game, when going out to dinner where everyone puts their cell phone in the middle of the table, face down, and the first one to check theirs has to pay?”

“Ugh, fine.” Leann put her phone onto the pile.

Heather reluctantly pulled hers out of her pocket, and turned to Tom, “but you better write that combination down somewhere so when someone injures themselves while you’re passed out, we can get a phone.”

“Don’t worry,” Bianca reassured, “we’ve still got a landline in case of emergencies.”

Heather put her phone into the safe, followed shortly by Nick, Jacob, and Ricky. Addison twisted her mouth in frustration, looking from face to face, and begrudgingly handed Tom her phone. Everyone turned expectantly to Victoria and I, neither of us reaching towards our cell phones.

“What if something happens to Molly? What if my parents need to get in touch with us?” I asked.

“You gave them our number, right?”

I looked at Victoria, who nodded at me. Tom saw and continued, “see, they’ll be able to reach you. I promise!” I looked at my watch. It was three thirty.

“Alright.” I sighed and handed Tom my phone. I had texted my parents when we got in, and everything seemed to be going well. I didn’t see any harm in the situation. Victoria followed my lead, begrudgingly.

With all the phones accounted for in the safe, Tom swung the door closed with a loud click. “Trust me, we’ll have so much fun tonight, you guys won’t even notice you don’t have your phones.”

Everyone started out into the hall to continue the tour. I turned to Victoria, and winked, pointing to my smartwatch. She smiled, relief washing over her face. Even with my phone locked away, I’d know if someone was trying to get in touch with me.

Hours later, the beers swished and sloshed inside my stomach while heavy rain beat down on the glass doors beside us. I stood in the kitchen, arguing over the finer details of the most recent fan theory of Game of Thrones with Nick and Heather. Addison stood off to the side, listening to the argument while pulling on the sleeves of her oversized sweatshirt. Leann, Ricky, and Victoria were making a giant dish of nachos while Bianca whipped up a batch of margaritas. Tom danced behind her, trying his best to distract her from her task. She giggled as she leaned back into his body. They swayed to the music - a playlist of their own devising, made up entirely of music that was popular during our years in college. They had speakers set up in each room of the house, all connected to a master stereo in the living room, so no matter where you went, you couldn’t get away. But at least we could no longer hear the wind howling against the house. I watched Bianca move her hips side to side, her pilates-assisted ass pressing into Tom, whose smile was cheser-cat wide. They looked like teenagers. Even with this giant fancy home surrounding them, they acted like they were horny, nineteen, and in love. Just like I remembered.

“He is obviously only half Lannister and half Targaryen! Does he look like any of the Lannisters to you!?!” Nick gestured into the air enthusiastically while staring wide eyed at Heather.

“But does he really look like a Targaryen??” Heather asked, dubious of Nick’s argument.

“That’s because you only watch the show! You got to read the books!” Nick yelled, his face turning red with frustration.

“I have to go to the bathroom.” Addison whispered to the group, obviously uncomfortable with the heated debate, and left towards the stairs.

Nick rolled his eyes, and turned to Heather. “Oh look, we made overly sensitive Addison uncomfortable.”

“Shut up, Nick!” Bianca scolded, and turned to follow her.

He blew a raspberry and continued his lecture on true bloodlines.

Bianca returned several moments later, while Nick was describing the real heir to the Iron Throne in great detail. I turned to her, and she shook her head with a small smile, a sign I interpreted as meaning that Addison needed some space from the group for a moment. I nodded and returned the smile.

Once the nachos were done, we all went into the living room. Bianca placed a wide-brimmed margarita glass in front of me, full to the top with green slushy alcohol, the brim rimmed with salt. There was even a little yellow paper umbrella resting in it.

“Thank you, but I think I’ll pass on this round, Bianca.” I said politely, passing her back the large unbalanced glass, careful not to spill the contents. Bianca looked hurt, so I added “It looks amazing, but I’ve had a lot of beer. I don’t want to overdo it.” She reached for the drink.

Tom appeared behind her, “dude, come on! It’s a party!” He leaned towards me and lowered his voice, “Just one margarita won’t hurt, and Bianca put a lot of effort into them.”

I smiled, and brought my arm, and the margarita, back towards me. “Alright, alright!” I lifted my left hand up in surrender, “I’ll have a margarita.” Bianca’s face lit up. “But just one!” I said, raising my finger warningly at Tom, who smiled in return.

I brought the drink to my lips, and was pleasantly surprised. The margarita was sweet, but not too sweet like most fruity drinks. It was good, but after my first sip, I left the glass mostly untouched beside me as I joined the conversation of the rest of the group.

The years apart were long forgotten as old jokes were dredged up from the past, and shit talk passed from old friends without hurt feelings or damaged egos. We were just a group of carefree kids once again.

“Alright, piss break.” Nick slurred as he slowly got to his feet, stood for a moment, swaying slightly, and shuffled to the bathroom.

Ricky snickered, “wowzers, someone can’t hold his liquor anymore.”

The small black speakers above us began playing a pop song I recognized, but couldn’t name. “Oh shit!” Tom exclaimed, standing up and reaching for Heather, “this was my jam!”

Heather took his hand, and he pulled her up towards him. Ricky jumped off the couch, and shoved it towards the wall, creating more space for the impromptu dance floor. He offered his hand to Leann, bowing to her playfully, and she joined him. I turned to Victoria, who was sitting beside me on the other, larger couch. She smiled, and we joined in the party.

While Leann and Ricky danced awkwardly facing each other, but with an appropriate distance between them, Tom was hugging Heather to him, moving his body with hers to the beat of the music, much as he had earlier with his wife, but his face held a serious concentration that it hadn't before. Heather’s face was locked on Tom’s, her cheeks red.

I cringed internally at the way she was staring at him. It wasn’t unknown within our group that Heather had had a huge crush on Tom in college, but he never returned her affection.

I saw Bianca walk in from the kitchen. She stood, watching them dance for a moment, her face completely blank. Then, without warning, she turned and locked eyes with me. I felt the color rise in my face, and turned away. I figured that, along with all the jokes from the past, the drama was beginning to creep back into the group dynamic as well. We were all drunk, hanging out with people that defined our youth. It was to be expected that the juvenile feelings that marked these relationships in our memories would manifest tonight.

Tom and Heather’s faces were, at this point, only an inch or so apart, their eyes locked. I was about to suggest we kill the dance party when Ricky’s voice rose over the music, “man, Nick’s been in the bathroom for a really long time.”

I looked around, and noticed he was right, Nick was still gone. And so was Addison. Heather and Tom broke away. Tom’s eyes fell on his wife’s expressionless face, and he looked down in what looked like guilt. Uncomfortable, I thought Nick was a good excuse to separate myself from the situation. “I’ll go check on him. Make sure he’s not passed out in there.”

I let go of my wife and walked into the hallway next to the living room. If I remembered the tour accurately, there was a small powder room opposite the kitchen. Tom and Bianca had the decency to not but speakers in the hallway, so while I could still hear the music clearly, it was dulled by the wall. The hallway was dark, so I ran my hand along the wall searching for a light switch, but without luck. There was a thin stream of light coming from a thin, slightly ajar, door. The door I remembered as the small bathroom. Giving up on the light switch, I walked towards the light. I listened for a moment at the door, trying to pick up the sounds of urination, or the dull sounds of drunken snoring, but heard neither. In fact, other than my own breathing and the dull music, I heard nothing at all.

I knocked lightly on the door frame, “Nick? You ok, buddy?” There was no response. I reached my hand up, and pushed the door into the room. The door stuck on something. I pushed a little harder, but still it resisted. I leaned my shoulder into the space between the door and the wall, and craned my neck to look inside.

The door was stuck on Nick, who was sitting, passed out cold, on the toilet, his pants to the ground.

“Jesus, dude. Seriously?” I said, trying to force his feet back towards him so I could open the door wider, but I quickly stopped when I noticed that Nick’s eyes weren’t closed. He was staring at me. Staring at me with blank, glassy eyes. My heartbeat quickened, and I examined the rest of him: his face was bloated and purple, his tongue swollen, pushing his mouth ajar.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck!” I whispered under my breath, as I reached my hand out towards his neck. I tried to find a pulse, but it was useless. Nick was dead.

I pulled myself sharply out from where I had squeezed myself, bruising my arm as I did. I ignored the pain, and walked into the living room, past Tom, Heather, and Victoria, to the sound system, and turned it off. The sound of the storm surrounded us instantly, finally free of restriction. The wind and rain filled the air, thunder echoing into every corner.

“What the fuck, dude?” Tom asked. I could feel their eyes on my back as I tried to blink the burning tears away. I turned to face them, and breathed deeply, preparing myself.

“Nick is… Nick… Something happened to Nick.” I finally said.

They stared at me.

I felt frustration heating my body from the inside, “Nick’s fucking dead guys. He’s on the fucking toilet, and he’s fucking dead.” My voice cracked as tears began to flow freely down my cheeks.

Without a word, Jacob stood and ran out into the hall. Tom, Bianca, Heather, Leann and Victoria followed. I waited there, standing in the living room, alone. Where the fuck was Addison?

Last I had seen Addison was in the kitchen. But then she left to go use the bathroom. And she hadn’t been in the small bathroom, so she must be in the Master bathroom. I ran into the entrance way, turned up the stairs, and climb briskly, taking two steps at a time.

I ran into the bedroom. The room was just as it had been moments before, the french doors still open. I walked to them, and the view inside the bathroom made my stomach lurch with shock and horror.

Addison was in the tub, fully clothed. Her forearms rested on each side of the porcelain basin, her legs bent in front of her. She looked like she could be taking a bath, but the tub was dry except for the small line of blood leading from her body to the drain. Her face was twisted with horror. I felt myself begin to shake as I noticed the huge gash in her head, spreading from her forehead to behind her ear. I could see white skull through her injury. I looked down and saw blood, hair, and flesh on the corner of the lower step to the tub.

I stepped closer, my hand outstretched hesitantly to check a pulse, despite the obvious futility of the act. I had to check. I had to be certain. I placed my hand on her wrist. I tried to keep my face as far from her as possible, yet I couldn’t keep my eyes off of the crack in her head. From there, I could see the split in the skull itself, her pink brain visible under the blood that clumped into the roots of her hair. Her wrist was silent. There was no pulse, no life.

I looked at my friend. Shy, sweet, intelligent Addison. Her body limb. I stepped back and hastened to the sink, where I vomited. Nachos and beer splashed in the shallow bowl, falling on the counter and mirror. But I didn’t care. This was no time to worry about being a polite guest. I vomited again, then straightened and wiped my mouth.

Without turning back, thoughts raced through my mind. Maybe she slipped and hit her head? But the chances that both Addison and Nick died in horrible accidents was hard to believe. Plus, how could she have fallen to her death, then crawled into the bathtub to position herself like that? If this was an accident, she’d still be on the floor.

I turned away from the gruesome scene, and ran down the stairs. Everyone was in the living room. At least, everyone still left alive. Jacob sat on the floor, rocking back and forward, shaking his head in disbelief. Victoria crouched over him, her arms around his shoulders as she cooed words of comfort to him, but he didn’t seem to hear her. His platonic life partner was gone.

Leann had the cordless phone in her hand, tears streaming down her cheeks. She was frantically pressing buttons on the phone, getting more and more frustrated with every attempt.

“Goddammit!” She screamed, “what the fuck is wrong with this thing!?!”

I looked down, and saw that the base had been unplugged from the wall. “It’s dead.” I said, my voice sounded emotionless to my ears. I grabbed the cord, hanging uselessly from the phone’s base, and plugged it in. Leann placed the phone back down and the display lit up. I lifted the wireless phone, but it immediately went dead again. I put it back, and looked at Leann.

“We can't dial while it's in it’s base.”

Leann started sobbing harder. “We need to call an ambulance!” She cried at me, her body shaking uncontrollably.

“We need to call the police.” Leann’s son caught in her throat. She stared at me, her eyes wet and red. I swallowed. “I don’t think Nick died of natural causes.”

The sound of wind, rain, and thunder filled the room as everyone waited for me to continue.

“Addison was murdered. Her body’s in the bathroom upstairs.” I said, as calmly as I could despite my stomach performing somersaults inside of me and my brain shooting electricity through the sides of my head.

I turned to Tom and Bianca. Bianca looked ill and Tom was as white as a ghost. “We need the fucking cell phones.”

Tom nodded solemnly, and turned towards the front of the house.

“There’s another landline in the office.” Bianca said quietly. She walked to Leann, placing a calming hand on her shoulder. “Come on, I know that one’s plugged in. Let’s go call the cops.”

Leann sniffled loudly and Bianca lead her towards the kitchen. The office was a sunroom extension at the corner of the house.

Heather leaned towards me and Ricky, her face between ours. “Do you know what this means?” Heather said, her voice lowered and horse.

I shook my head, looking at my wife and Jacob, who were still on the floor. Victoria's face was drawn into a pained mask, her lower lip trembling as it did when she was distraught. Jacob’s eyes were wide, but unseeing.

I felt Ricky shift his weight beside me.

“Someone has broken in, and is killing us, one by one.” Heather answered her own question.

Realization dawned on me. I completed the thought out loud, “there’s a killer in the house.”

Heather nodded and we stood in shock at what was happening. The large house loomed above and around us like a great weight. It had morphed from a luxurious suburban home into a death trap.

Our stupor was broken by loud music blasting through the speakers throughout the house. I looked at the stereo, but no one was even close to it.

“What the fuck??” Victoria asked, looking around.

I walked over and pressed the power button, the sound dimming quickly as the lights faded off. Instantly it sprung to life again, music pouring out around us.

“Fuck!” I yelled. The killer must be controlling it somehow.

“Leann and Bianca!” Heather screamed over the music.

Ricky ran out into the kitchen, the girls following. I looked down at Jacob, who hadn’t moved.

“Come on, we can’t leave you here alone.” I said, reaching my hand down to him. Jacob looked up at me, his eyes wide and empty. He shook his head slowly. I bent down and grabbed his hand with mine, forcing him up. He didn’t resist.

I dragged Jacob behind me as we ran to the office door. I saw Ricky throw himself at the white wood door. A loud crack of muscle hitting wood exploded into the kitchen and the door burst open into the room. A metallic scent hit my nose immediately. Ricky’s form took up most of the door, blocking the light from reaching me. Victoria and Heather stopped short behind him and simultaneously started screaming, the sounds harmonizing and mixing with the song playing over our heads. I put my hands on my wife’s shoulders, and looked over her to see the scene, the smell hitting my nose stronger. I recognized it then. It was the smell of blood. Lots and lots of blood.

Leann’s body was sprawled on the floor. I could only recognize her from the shirt she was wearing tonight. Her face was sunken, blood and bone protruding from broken flesh. Lines of red were splattered along the floor and walls, stretching out from her body like a twisted spiderweb. On the floor next to her was an old golfing trophy, I assumed from Tom’s more competitive athletic days. The tiny gold man, frozen in a perpetual swing, was smeared with blood from the violent hand the broke Leann’s body, over and over again.

Victoria turned away from the gruesome scene and rested her head on my shoulder as she sobbed. I hugged her, turning my face from the bloody office. I held my wife tight to me, comforted, if only slightly, by her physical touch. A terrible pop song from our youth ended, and the room was filled with the sound of the raging storm. Thunder cackled and I shook with the sound. Lightning illuminated the window beside me as a one hit wonder came on over the speakers.

Ricky stepped back from the doorway, and faced us. His face stoic, but with a hint of pained disgust. Ricky had always been a quiet lumbering giant. In college, our hockey coach, Coach Hutchinson, was practically stalking the guy to get him to try out for the team. Not for skill, but for his appearance/size alone. But Ricky always refused. He never excelled in his studies either - don’t get me wrong, the man’s not dumb at all, he’s just not interested in anything that isn’t writing. And it’s easy to see why, his short stories and poetry were amazing. I was always fascinated with him, this giant man who could write anyone to tears, love, or terror. If he hadn’t been an English major, I’m not sure how he would’ve graduated.

Victoria was always jealous of his skills. They were the first ones of the group to become friends. Victoria introduced herself to him on the first day of Introduction to Literature. Ricky didn’t talk much, but he seemed to enjoy her company, and Victoria enjoyed silence. They’d spend a lot of nights for those four years, studying and writing together. But while Victoria would spend days on a paper or story, only to receive a B, Ricky would whip something up the night before and get an A as well as public praise. She loved Ricky, but was frustrated by his effortless success. When we all graduated, Victoria tried to make a go of it as a writer, but it never worked out. Luckily, she had minored in computer information technology. When she realized her life as an author would be a long and tireless one without much success, she decided to take some additional classes in programming and web development. She was quite good with computers and that had always been her fallback option, but it wasn’t her dream. Ricky, on the other hand, was offered a professional writing gig immediately out of school.

I remember watching his hulking frame in the doorway and a part of my mind wondering what he’d write about after that night. Would the traumatic evening become a memoir? Or would that night influence a best selling novel? Maybe a new television show?

If he survived, that was.

I scanned the room behind him, trying to avoid looking directly at Leann. “Where the fuck is the other phone?” I asked.

Victoria looked around, “Bianca must have it!” She exclaimed, looking up at me, her eyes filling with hope.

I nodded, “I pray she was able to call for help.”

Victoria nodded, the hope petering slightly from her face.

“We need to search the house.” Heather said, her voice flat. I looked up. Heather’s face was stoic as she stared at Leann. They had been best friends. I untangled an arm from my wife, and reached my hand out, placing it on her shoulder. Pulling away and locking eyes with me, she repeated herself, “we need to search the house.”

Victoria stepped back and wiped her eyes. “You’re right,” she sniffled, “we need to find whoever’s doing this to us and find Bianca. God, I hope she’s ok. I don’t want to imagine what he might… what he might be doing to her.” Her voice cracked with a fresh sob, and she wrapped her arms protectively around herself. I rubbed her back, trying to push the same thoughts and violent images from my mind.

“Chuck and Victoria, you should check the upstairs. See if Tom has the phones. Ricky and I will check the basement, and then we’ll meet here and check the main floor.” Heather instructed.

I nodded, and turned to face the empty kitchen. “Where’s Jacob? He was here a second ago.”

“Goddammit!” Heather exclaimed, “we don’t have time for this. We have to get this situation under control!” Heather stormed off towards the basement door, Ricky following.

I gulped, and, using my hand still on her back, lead Victoria through the kitchen into the living room. The living room felt colder than it had when we first arrive. Even with the lights above us illuminating the room in a yellow glow, it seemed dark, like the corners were hiding secrets that threatened our very lives. I walked to the stereo and hit the large rectangular on/off button. The button popped up from the face of the stereo and the music faded. I breathed a sigh of relief, and we continued upstairs.

The two guest rooms were empty. We had checked the closets and under the bed, and even a large wardrobe in the larger of the rooms, but there was no sign of life. The rooms seemed oddly empty and void of the extravagance the other rooms possessed.

We walked into the exercise room, but the room was just a bunch of exercise equipment and an empty space for yoga and pilates. The closet was full of only yoga mats, bricks, and other assorted items I didn’t recognize.

Finally, we got to the bedroom. I wanted to make sure Tom was ok, but still my legs slowed as we approached the door, the image of Addison, dead in the tub, her skull and brains exposed making my feet heavier with each approaching step. If Victoria hadn’t been at my side, I don’t think I’d be able to go on. I pushed through the emotional quicksand, forcing my feet forward until I was at the open door. I looked in the room and noticed the closet door open and the light on. Straining my ears, I could hear Tom frantically muttering to himself, his voice wet with tears.

Trying to forget the bathroom, I ran to the closet. Tom was desperately spinning the dial of the safe. He looked at me, his face red with tears.

“It won’t fucking open!” He screamed, kicking the wall in front of him hard enough to leave a dent.

“Are you putting the combination in correctly?” I asked.

“Yes, I’m putting the fucking combination in correctly! Of course I am! It’s our fucking wedding anniversary! I wouldn’t fucking forget that!” The corner of Tom’s mouth were white with frothy spit.

I step up to the safe, “What’s was the date, again? I’ll try.”

Tom breathed deeply, and exhaled loudly, trying to calm himself. “It’s June 19th, 2006.” He said. “It’s a five number combination, left right left right. It was 61906.”

I turned the dial to the left till it reached 6, and heard a slight click within the safe mechanism. Then turned the dial to the right to 1, with a slight click. I repeated this until the small black arrow on the dial reached 6, once again. There was no click.

“Well the rest of the combination seems to be working, it’s just that last number. Maybe it’s no longer 6? Either way, it won’t take too long to try the nine other numbers.” I said. Tom nodded, slowly calming himself. I stepped back so he could reach the dial and begin the process all over again.

I lifted my wrist and looked at my watch. The menu had an option to send a text to one of my recent contacts. I could send a text to my mom and ask her to send help. I began to travel through the menu, looking for the option when suddenly loud rock music flowed from the speakers in the bedroom, making me jump.

“What the fuck!” I screamed. I ran out into the bedroom. Victoria was staring at the bathtub, her hand over her mouth, tears flooding down her face. She looked at me, her eyes wide with terror.

“We need to check on the others. We’ll come figure this out afterwards. Someone could be dying as we speak.”

I ran past my horrified wife, Tom following behind me. We flew down the stairs, and into the living room. It was empty. I slammed the on/off button on the stereo. Screams echoed throughout the house. It was coming from the other side of the stairs.

“The dining room!” Tom yelled, and ran, Victoria catching up to us and following. I listened closer. It wasn’t coming from this floor though. It was coming from upstairs. The floor Victoria and I just checked from top to bottom.

I ran to the top of the steps. The sound was coming from the exercise room. I ran in, my eyes registering Bianca and Jacob immediately. But the scene wasn’t right.

My brain tried to interpret the image before me, but it wouldn’t compute. Jacob was on the floor, Bianca above him. Both of them, along with the room, were covered in blood.

“Bianca! Are you ok?” I asked, “is Jacob!?!”

Bianca shook her head, “I’m ok, but… I think… I think Jacob’s dead.”

I rested my hand on my knees, my breath was coming in short gasps. I recognized the uncomfortable sensation as hyperventilating. How could this be happening to us? How could something so fucked up happen to us?

Bianca took a step towards me and I looked up. I noticed a bloodied weight in her hand. The murder weapon. But why was Bianca holding the murder weapon? Had she fought the killer for it?

She took a step towards me. Her face was twisted, not in horror or disgust, but in pleasure.

“Wh… What… what’s going... on?” I said between breaths.

She didn’t answer, but took another step towards me, her smile spreading across her face.

“I’m going to enjoy killing you, Chuck.” She said.

I shook my head in disbelief, stepping backwards.

“Don’t go, Charles.” She cooed. “Poor little pathetic Charles. How does it feel to have married Tom’s leftovers? Do you wake up every morning and remember comforting the love of your life over a basic douche like Tom?”

She took another step closer. My breathing was slowly returning to normal and my brain was clearing. I checked my peripheral for a potential weapon, but saw nothing. The house was immaculate, to the point of resembling a show house. There were no objects, I realized. I was surrounded by giant equipment I couldn’t lift, but no weights, not even a plastic water bottle I could use to defend myself against the petite blood-covered blonde slowly approaching me.

“You were such a miserable dope that first year. Pathetically waiting hand and foot on that stupid whore.”

Bianca took a step towards me, and I turned and ran. I ran down the stairs as fast as I could. I felt like I would fall forward with each step I whizzed by. I could hear Bianca running behind me, her breath ragged and sharp. Her footsteps pounding on the old wood, causing it to creak and groan under her weight. I jumped the last few steps, not looking behind me, not wanting to know how close she was, or to slow myself down. I slid towards the front door, hitting my shoulder into it with a thud. Pain shot through me, but I didn’t care. I twisted the knob, and pulled, but it wouldn’t budge. I threw the deadbolt, and pulled again, but to no avail. I felt a light hand on my shoulder, and the sweat on my forehead turned cold. I looked down and saw four long pink manicured fingernails.

“You’re not getting out that way, Chuck.” Bianca’s voice was calm and dark. I turned slowly to face her. She was only an inch away. I could feel her warm breath and I could see the glint of metal in her hand. A splatter of Jacob’s blood ran through the middle of Bianca’s face. She drew her face towards mine, passing me, till her lips rested against my ear.

“At least I’m beautiful, right?” She whispered.

“What’s going on!?!” My heart lept at the sound of my wife’s voice. Bianca turned, and I could see Tom, Victoria, Heather, and Ricky standing behind her, their faces twisted in confusion and shock. Victoria stepped back with the recognition of blood on Bianca’s face and shirt. “What the fuck is going on!?!” Victoria’s voice filled with disgust and fear.

Realizing what I had to do, I grabbed Bianca’s arms and held them behind her. She squirmed against my grip, “get off me!” She screamed.

“She killed Addison! And Leann! And Nick!” I yelled to Victoria, who looked at me uneasily. “I just caught her! She was standing over Jacob's body!”

“Let. Go.” Bianca cried between attempts to pull away from me.

“Body?” Heather asked hesitantly.

Victoria put her hand over her mouth, as if she might be sick.

Bianca dropped her right hand, the one holding the weight, hard. I jumped back without letting go, just in time to avoid having my hip smashed.

Tom was shaking his head in disbelief, his face lacking all of its usual charm and chipperness. He looked like he was in shock.

“She's still holding the bloody weight! Go look, if you don’t believe me.” I said, my voice strained with the effort of restraining Bianca. “He's in the gym.”

Tom turned and walked slowly up the stairs, hesitantly dragging his body towards the fourth of his dead friends. Victoria followed and Heather, not losing her go-getter attitude during the unreal friend-turned-homicidal-lunatic situation, ran past them and into the exercise room.

Her scream filled the hallway and entrance where I stood, trying to keep the Bianca from killing the rest of us.

Ricky, seeing my struggle, came and grabbed Bianca from me. I allowed him to take her.

“What should we do with her?” He asked.

I shrugged. What does one do when your friend becomes a psycho without reason?

I could hear the group return from upstairs, and I turned away from Bianca and Ricky. Heather looked ill, all of the blood completely drained from her face. Victoria ran to me, and began to sob into my shoulder. I hugged her tightly.

Tom was shaking his head, staring at his wife, who was still being restrained, in disbelief. “Sweetheart.” The word trailed out of his mouth slowly, “did you really?” A tear fell from his eye. Bianca glared at him silently in response. “But why?” He asked, his voice strained and weak.

Bianca stood, her arms held behind her, the bloodied weight still in her grasp. “Why?” She asked, “why!?!” She screamed. She pulled her arms easily out from Ricky’s hold. She stepped towards Tom, and threw the weight at his head. He ducked, and it landed against the wall and fell heavily on the steps, then rolled onto the floor behind us. There was a sizeable hole in the plaster where it had landed. We all stood in shock as Bianca ran into the living room.

I turned to Ricky, “what the fuck?” I exclaimed. Ricky shrugged, and turned to follow her. We could do nothing but watch him leave.

With both out of view, I shook my head clear and ran to the front door. I tried it again, pulling at the knob with all my strength, but it wouldn’t budge. I ran into the living room, luckily devoid of either Bianca or Ricky, and fell on the large window facing the front yard. It was barren of any lock mechanisms and wouldn't even budge when I tried to open it. I growled in frustration, completely losing what little rational thought I had been able to maintain. I grabbed a lamp from the side table and threw it against the window, but it bounced off harmlessly.

“What the fuck!?” I screamed, my voice rough with fear and desperation. My throat was tight and I had to force myself to swallow. I turned to Tom, Heather, and Victoria.

“I told you,” Tom said quietly, looking at the window behind me, “Bianca was in charge of the renovations. She redid the windows and door too. I guess…” He trailed off. But we knew what he was thinking. She didn’t just renovate the house, she created a cage. She planned to murder all of us.

“But why?” I asked. “So she could run away with Ricky?”

“I always thought he had feelings for her.” Tom said, his voice cold and distant. He was lost. Too overwhelmed and in too much shock to feel emotions anymore.

“Jesus.” Victoria said. “What the fuck do we do now?”

“The most logical thing is to stay here, together.” Heather said, her voice calm and filled with the authority of one often in charge. “The phone will be charged enough for me to call 9-1-1 soon. Until then, we should stand in a circle, with our backs together. That way, we can see if they try to attack us. We outnumber them, they can’t kill all of us at once. That’s the safest thing we can do right now.”

We stood in silence for a second, thinking about the situation and mulling over what needed to be done to survive. A loud burst of thunder filled the room, and lighting illuminated the yard from outside. It was followed by a deafening crack, and the house was plunged into darkness.

“Oh fuck me!” I screamed, my eyes falling on where I remembered the now black phone was behind Tom.

I looked to the window, but the streetlights had gone out outside as well. We were shrouded in utter blackness.

“The cell phones!” Tom’s voice pierced the darkness beside me, “that bitch was the one that suggested we lock them up!” I felt him move beside me, and heard his footsteps as he ran towards the stairs.

“Fuck! Tom, stop!” Victoria called after him, but it was too late. We could hear the thud of heavy footsteps running up the stairs.

Realization hit me. “That fucking bitch must have changed the combination!”

“Probably after she killed Addison.” Heather's voice came from beside me, terror threatening to break the calm she had, till then, successfully forced into her tone.

“We know the combination is mostly the same. Tom just has to try the nine remaining numbers to figure it out. If we're lucky, it'll be one of the first numbers he tries.” Victoria reasoned.

I nodded, uselessly. “Worst case scenario, it won't take him forever to try nIne combinations.” I thought for a moment, surrounded in darkness, and added “I hope he has a flashlight up there.”

“Alright, whatever,” Heather said, “as long as the rest of us stay here, together, we still outnumber them.”

The house wheezed, and shook with the weight of the storm. We stood there in silence, desperately straining our ears to hear any sound around us in the black room. I reached my hand out tentatively to the spot I had last heard Victoria’s voice come from. I found her soft, small hand, and grabbed it. She squeezed my hand in return. I held my breath, the sounds of the storm were overpowering the loud pounding of my blood through my ears.

A crash echoed around us, followed by a streak of lightning which illuminated the room. Behind Heather stood Bianca, her arm raised, the stained trophy from the office hovering above her.

Victoria screamed as darkness descended around us once more. Despite thunder stretching across the sky with a low grumble that echoed in my chest, I could hear the impact clearly. There was a wet thud, and a crack that sent shivers down my spine. A thick warm substance landed on my face and arm. Something heavy began to fall beside me, and I heard the sickening snap of Heather’s bones as she landed, hard, in front of us on the wooden floor.

“That’s the original wood you know.” Bianca’s voice danced around in the dark, and I brought Victoria closer to me, wrapping my wet arm around her shoulders. Her body was shaking, and I could her her breath burdened with heavy tears.

With a sharp snap, electricity flooded the house once more. As the lights came on around us, I felt my stomach lurch and bile rise to the top of my throat: Bianca’s face was mere inches from my own, and she was smiling. Her arm raised above her head once more.

Without time to think or process much of what was around me, I pushed my wife away from me, balled my fist, and punched Bianca as hard as I could in the stomach. Her breath left her instantly, and her hand dropped as she curled into herself, hitting the side of my arm with the trophy as it descended. It stung, but the force behind it was weak and the direction off enough to cause little damage.

Bianca turned in pain, and I saw Heather. She lay on the ground, her limbs twisted around her. As with Addison, her head was split with a crack, but this one was much larger and more ragged than Addison’s. Blood and brains had exploded out of her skull, as if Bianca had destroyed a mere pinata. The room, as well as Victoria and I were covered in the remains of our friend.

I looked to Victoria, who stood motionless, staring at Bianca, her mouth wide open and a splash of blood staining her shirt and pants. Her face was pale, and I saw that she was now shaking more violently, her body trembling at the sight. I reached out towards her. “Victoria.” I said. I looked from her to Bianca, who was trying to stand up straight, her hands over her stomach protectively. She was looking from me to Victoria and back. My hand was almost to my wife’s arm. Victoria shook her head, and stepped back out of my reach. I knew what she was going to do, and I had to stop her with my voice. “Victoria.” I said again. Tears streamed down her face as she shook her head harder.

“No, no, no, no.” She said, the words barely leaving her lips, turning into sobs by the last “no.” She turned and ran to the kitchen. Bianca straightened, shot me a quick glare, and followed.

I stepped forward and grab her arm, “like hell I’m going to let you murder my wife!”

She snorted, “Oh yes, your wife.” She elongated the last word mockingly.

I tightened my grip around her arm and tried to swing her into the wall behind me, but she resisted, digging her feet into the floor and pulling on her trapped arm. I saw her look down at where the trophy had dropped next to Heather’s body, and I kicked her hard in the shin.

She screamed out as the leg fell underneath her, but she continued to reach towards the murder weapon.

Lifting my leg to stomp on her now bent leg in front of me, hoping to break her ankle as my foot landed on her thigh, I felt a hard thud against my head. I fell to my knees, barely missing Heather’s face, and looked up to see Ricky, standing behind me, lowering the weight that killed Jacob to his side. He returned my gaze, his face barely revealing a look of concern before straightening back into apathetic coldness.

Tears welled in my eyes uncontrollably. My head stinging where I was hit. Warm blood began to trickle behind my ear. “Why?” I asked, my voice strained with pain and confusion.

He didn’t answer. Recovering herself, Bianca stood. She looked down at me with disgust, then up at Ricky. In an annoyed tone, she said, “you didn’t fucking kill him, asshole!”

Ricky shrugged at her, “you’re the murderer in all this, not me.”

Bianca scoffed, and lowered herself so that she was level with my ear. “Do you ever think about Tom fucking your perfect wife? Do you ever look at him, goofing off and flirting with even tubbo here,” she gestured to Heather, “and remember with horror and shame that he was the idiot who took your precious Victoria’s virginity?” I could feel an old anger growing inside me, rising from beneath me until my body was alight with its heat. “Does it haunt you, to know that she told him she loved him, and he broke up with her in reply? The woman you were infatuated with, the woman you loved beyond all reason, was used and abused by an idiot. Her heart was torn and all Tom did was go and immediately fuck me. You know why?” She pressed her lips closer to my ear and continued, whispering, “because he thought of her as just a pussy to fuck. He never cared about her. He just liked having that pretty mouth around his cock.” I was shaking with rage. Bianca smiled. “You know, I’ve always suspected that, if Tom propositioned her, she fuck him in a heartbeat. I bet, if Tom asked her to leave you for him, she wouldn’t even pack her bags. She’d grab his arm and run out the door before you even finished taking a shit.”

My rage exploded and I swung the trophy my fingers had found as Bianca made her speech. Despite not aiming, I hit her squarely in the side of the head. Bianca fell to the side. Ricky lunged for me and I raised my arm and swung down, missing his head but hitting his left shoulder hard enough to slow him down.

I jumped up, the sudden movement making me dizzy. I swallowed and ran to the kitchen. Victoria was at the door leading into the backyard, desperately clawing at the sides, trying to peel them free of whatever Bianca had used to seal them. The white door frame was stained with red marks, my wife’s fingertips covered in blood. I noticed with a sickening feeling that one of her nails was missing.

I heard Bianca and Ricky getting up with groans. I grabbed Victoria’s shoulder, “quick, we have to get out of here! That door isn’t going to open, we have to try another way!”

Victoria looked at me, not stopping her attempts to open the door. Her eyes were wide with panic, her face barely recognizable. She was in a manic frenzy, and I realized reason wasn’t going to work. I wrapped my arms around her waist and began pulling her towards the garage door.

Victoria shoot out from my grasp, both of us slippery with our friends’ blood, and ran towards the office.

I went to follow her, but at that moment, Bianca came into the room. I froze and stared at her as she smiled wickedly at me. The trophy was in her hand again. She turned her head, smiled at me, and began to run to where I had just watched my wife disappear.

I lunged towards her, my heart pounding, and reached out, fast. My hand found blonde hair. I clenched my fist. Bianca kept running, but was stopped short by my grip. She screamed as her feet continued to move under her while her head and shoulders stayed where they were. Her legs shot out in front of her and she fell with a crash. I could feel the pull of her hair in my fist as the rest of her body fell too far away. A ripping sound echoed in the room as some of the hair grew slack in my hand. I let go, chunks of bloody flesh falling from my hand where they had pulled free from her scalp.

I bent down to grab her. She rolled out of my reach. I dove at her, but she was standing before I could keep her on the ground. Damn that pilates.

She raised the trophy once again. Instead of wasting time trying to stand, I cowered beneath her, raising my arms to protect my face. A choked sob escaped my mouth as I prepared for the pain. For death.

There was a dull whack, and Bianca’s body fell on top me like a thick heavy sack. I instinctively reached for her as she rolled off, stopping her from falling to the floor, and slowly lowered her. She landed with a soft thud and moaned in pain, putting a hand to the back of her head. I realized I was crying, and wiped my face with the sleeve of my shirt. I looked up to see Victoria, eyes wide, a pan in her hands.

“Are you ok?” Victoria asked. I nodded, relieved to see my wife shaken out of her panic. Hearing my cries and realizing I was in danger had snapped her back to reality and I had my strong Victoria back, but only for a second. Recovering quickly, Bianca reached out and grabbed Victoria’s leg. The back of Bianca’s head, only inches from my face, was bleeding quite badly, from both the pan and losing so much of her hair. Her arm was shaky, but still she was able to find the force she needed to pull her down to the floor.

I kicked at Bianca, and wrapped my arms around her shoulders to stop her, but I was suddenly aware of my body being lifted from the ground, Bianca sliding from my hold. I screamed and kicked as my arms were held behind my back. I felt the large bulk of Ricky behind me, and I looked over my shoulder at him. His face was oddly calm.

I twisted in his clutch, but he just stared at Bianca in front of him, wrestling with Victoria as she tried to stand while keeping Victoria down. I kicked at his shin, but I felt like a child fighting against a parent, my feeble attempts to harm completely unnoticed.

“What the fuck are you doing, man?” I screamed at him, looking from his face to my wife’s losing battle with the murderer. “You’re married, you’re successful, you’re happy! Why are you helping this psychobitch!?!”

Ricky smiled slightly at Bianca, “because she’s all I ever wanted.” He answered.

I turned away in disgust, and watched Bianca. Despite Victoria being much less injured, she was struggling to overcome Bianca. I tried to pull my arms from Ricky, but his grip was too tight, too firm. Steeling myself, I pulled forward while raising my leg, determined to put every inch of power I had into saving my wife. I kicked back hard, trying to land the blow on his knee and force him down, but he moved back just in time, and twisted my arm tight. I fell to the floor with a scream. He lowered his knee onto my back, pinning me to the linoleum floor. I continued to fight fruitlessly, my eyes glued to my wife.

Bianca was now standing above her, smiling in glorious victory. Despite her efforts, Victoria couldn’t seem to keep her eyes open. I hadn’t witnessed Bianca hurt her yet, or heard any heavy blow. I couldn’t comprehend why Victoria was struggling so much. I watched her body fall limp as all her strength disappeared.

“What’s wrong with her!?” I yelled at Bianca. She looked at me, a small expression of disappointment on her face.

“You’re still looking quite perky…” She said, “you really should have had more of your margarita.” My stomach sank. No wonder she seemed to be recovering so much faster than anyone else.

Bianca raised the trophy, and I screamed, thrashing against Ricky.

“Please, no!” Tears stung my eyes. “Don’t hurt her! We have a child! Please! Stop!”

Bianca looked at me, and winked. Her arms began to descend down and I screamed, the pain and fear exploding out of my violently as I felt the weight of true ineffectiveness.

The trophy come down on Victoria with a wet heavy thump. Blood squirted above her, and fell in a line that connected me to her one last time. Bianca raised her arms and dropped them, over and over again. The sound of the metal hitting Victoria’s face and head made me vomit onto the floor between desperate sobs. She was so drugged up, she didn’t even scream, and soon the room was silent except for the dull thud of the trophy hitting her dead flesh, and the spray of blood against the wall and us. Some part of my mind reach out through the fog of shock and pain to realize that the storm outside had stopped. I fell, the struggle to win, to survive, dying inside me. I watched, sobbing, as my wife’s face was pounded into a mess of flesh, bone, and blood. She was soon unrecognizable.

“Why?” I asked, the word spitting from my mouth as a choked sob.

Bianca turned to me, dropping the trophy at her feet with a clash that rang in the quiet room. “Why? Why!? Why!?!” She repeated, each why growing louder until she was screaming. Her arms were covered in blood, all the way to her elbows, and her face and hair were now wet it. Bits of my wife’s tissue were falling from her clothes, and she took a step towards me, her feet sticking slightly to the blood on the floor. She curled her lip into a snarl as she brought her face to mine.

“Because, I am not just a body.” Her voice was low, almost like a growl. “I have spent my whole life being called dumb, but pretty. Useless, but gorgeous.” She spun away from me, gesturing to the empty room, yelling, “Simple, but at least I’m fuckable!” She turned back to me, “but look! Look at me now!” She yelled, raising her arms to the air. “Am I useless now? Am I nothing but a body now, Chuck? Look at me, look at what I’m capable of!” She lowered her arms, and locked eyes with me, “Now I’ll be remembered for more than being beautiful, more than just a nice pair of tits, more than an ass.” She lowered her face to mine again, and whispered, “I have affected you. Your life is ruined, because of me. You will die at my hands. Could just a body do that?” She smiled, and stood.

Walking towards the kitchen counter, she continued, “None of you ever thought much of me. Don’t try to tell me otherwise. I’m sick of listening to lies. I’m just the pretty face of the group. And for that, each and every one of you will pay.” She pulled a knife out of a drawer, and turned back to me, stepping over my wife’s mutilated body. “And now it’s your turn.” She looked up at Ricky, “pick him up.”

I began to fight, screaming, as Ricky lifted me back to standing. Bianca raised the knife.

A loud bang echoed off the glass surrounding us, making the room resonate with the sound. My ears felt as if they had begun to bleed, and a loud ringing noise filled my hearing. Bianca fell with a heavy solid thud. I felt Ricky’s grasp fall away and I dove to the side. Another bang and I turned to watch Ricky fall backwards, hitting his already bleeding head on the window behind him.

I looked towards the door to the living room. Tom stood holding a shotgun up to his eye. His arm fell, and the gun hung uselessly beside him. He looked from my dead wife to his, and then to the dead Ricky. His eyes locked on mine and I saw an intense determination within them. His jaw was locked in a stern expression I had never seen before. Slowly, a deranged smile grew on his face.

“That cunt didn’t know about Janet here!” He threw his head back and laughed maniacally to the ceiling. Tom had always enjoyed traditionally manly sports and activities. I wasn’t surprised hunting would be one of them. I guess Bianca hadn’t approved. Thank god that didn’t stop him.

“But… she drugged the margaritas… How are you still standing?” I stammered.

“I spilled mine before even getting a sip. And here I was, worried she’d be pissed I stained the couch!” Deep barks of laughter spewed from his body uncontrollably.

I jumped up, and ran to the living room where I had plugged in the phone, but it was gone. Tom was still laughing like a psychopath in the kitchen.

“Jesus, Tom. Shut the fuck up, will yea?”

Tom stopped laughing, his face falling to a frown. He walked to the couch beside me and sat down. All the energy that was there seconds ago drained from him. I didn’t care, I just wanted to get out of that damn house.

“Did you get into the safe?” I asked.

Tom shook his head solemnly.

“Was there any window or door she didn’t replace in the renovations?” Tom shook his head hopelessly. I clutched my head, trying to force the images of what remained of my wife in the kitchen from my mind. “Fucking hell, Tom, just shot the damn door open!” I growled.

“No more bullets.” He said, blankly.

I screamed in frustration, and sat heavily beside him. Putting my elbows on my thighs, I dropped my head into my hands, and began to sob. The salty liquid flowed out as waves of emotion washed over me. All of the stress, fear, and shock of the night was drowning me, and I had decided to let it.

And then my watch buzzed. I sniffled, blinking away the tears, and looked down at my wrist.

My smartwatch. It was 9:08pm.

The screen was illuminated, and in small font it read:

MOM:

Hope you guys are having fun!

Finally got Holly to bed.

She misses you!!

Xoxox

I sat there, dumbfounded for a moment. I hit the right button on the watch, and selected the Reply option.

From there, I had the option of Voice, Canned messages, or Emoji. I looked at the options for a moment mulling them over..

A scene floated in front of me, an image of me sending a kissy emoji, then going into the kitchen, turning on the gas, and kneeling in the oven until this pain was permanently erased. But then I thought of Molly. I thought of her smile, and her laugh. I thought of her red tear stained face as I put a band-aid on yet another skinned knee. I thought of her sleeping beside me, the look of innocence and peace. She had so much to learn, so much life ahead of her. A life of pain, loss, love, discovery. A full life, a life of value.

I breathed in, and selected Voice. A little icon of a microphone displayed.

“Send help.” My watch thought for a moment, and then the two words displayed on the screen. I selected the ok button.

Sent.

#nosleep #short horror stories #novelette #college

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enzaime-blog · 7 years ago

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Charlie's Story – Thriving after Leukemia and Relapse

New Story has been published on https://enzaime.com/charlies-story-thriving-leukemia-relapse/

Charlie's Story – Thriving after Leukemia and Relapse

When Charlie Rider began receiving care for acute lymphoblastic leukemia at Dana-Farber/Boston Children’s Cancer and Blood Disorders Center at age 4, his mother, Caroline, sent email updates to her large family and circle of friends. After a brief remission, Charlie’s cancer came back, and he returned for more treatment, including a stem cell transplant. Caroline’s reflections grew into a touching chronicle of four years in the life of a child with cancer. In 2011, when Charlie was 8 years old, we interviewed him, his brothers Harry and Max, and his parents Caroline and Mike about the family’s cancer journey. Today, Charlie is a healthy 14-year-old and remains cancer-free.

This four-part series includes excerpts from Caroline Rider’s email updates, video reflections by family members, and interviews with clinicians at Dana-Farber/Boston Children’s Cancer and Blood Disorders Center.

Charlie at the Jimmy Fund Clinic Charlie is diagnosed with acute lymphoblastic leukemia (ALL) and undergoes two years of treatment at Dana-Farber/Boston Children’s Cancer and Blood Disorders Center. Below are excerpts from a series of emails that Caroline Rider wrote to her extended family and circle of friends.

10/16/06 Our Charlie has been diagnosed with leukemia. We know what a shock it can be to hear this. The type of leukemia he has is called ALL and it is the most common and the most treatable. The good news is that we live close to the one of the best children’s cancer centers in the world, and Charlie has an excellent prognosis. He will be in Children’s Hospital for at least a month. When he is discharged, he will be in remission. Once he goes home, he will return to Dana-Farber’s Jimmy Fund Clinic once a week for two years.

10/27/06 Charlie is HOME!!!

After being told that he would have to be in the hospital for at least a month, the doctors say he is doing so well that he could go home. We are thrilled because we all get to sleep under the same roof again. We are also TERRIFIED because we have a long road ahead. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RP1Hod6_EZU 11/05/06 Charlie started to lose his hair this week. We don’t have pets, but our furniture looks like we have shedding cats in the house. It was driving him crazy so he asked if he could get it cut. His Aunt Krista obliged with a backyard buzz cut. His hair is now only about a ¼ inch long, but soon he won’t have any hair at all. The new look suits him. He has a beautiful round head.

11/18/06 Charlie is in remission! A recent bone marrow biopsy showed there are no cancer cells in his body. Alas, the doctors know from years of studying this disease that there are still some leukemia cells lurking somewhere. The crafty little devils are waiting for us to drop our guard so they can attack again. But we won’t let them. That is why Charlie is in the hospital again – this time to get a massive dose of chemo.

12/21/06 Other than the first few numbing days after Charlie’s diagnosis, the past few weeks have been the hardest. Charlie had nine Jimmy Fund Clinic visits in three weeks (four of them surgical procedures). I have never felt so bone tired in my whole life.

Charlie has not been his happy, charming self and that has been hard to watch. He has been very clingy, needy, whiny, angry, and at times in pain. I have found it difficult to get to know the other parents at the clinic because, frankly, I have a hard time wrapping my brain around the fact that my child is sick.

2/05/07 We continue to make weekly visits to the Jimmy Fund Clinic where every single person there is truly amazing. What a place! I don’t know how they do it day in and day out, but they will all always have a special place in our hearts.

3/02/07 I find myself referring to situations as BD and AD (Before and After Diagnosis). Our life is certainly not what it was BD, but we seem to have found a sort of normalcy that works for us. Charlie is doing well … considering.

During the first few weeks, every time a doctor or nurse came in the room I really believed that they were going to say, “We are so sorry. There has been a huge mistake. Your child is perfectly healthy and you are free to go.” But after six months it has finally sunk in that this is happening to us.

9/09/07 Love and War

For a few weeks, Charlie had excruciating leg pain as a result of his medications. Once while his visiting nurse, Kathie, was here, Charlie was complaining about the pain. Kathie explained that it was probably the bone marrow regenerating itself. The next day Charlie said, “Mum, my bow and arrow are really hurting again.”

10/12/07 From the beginning Mike and I talked about how one day we would like to give back to the Jimmy Fund Clinic and Dana Farber and Children’s Hospital. Since we don’t have deep pockets, building a new research wing is unlikely. However, we have just been invited to join the Pediatric Patient Family Advisory Council.

This is a group of doctors, nurses, administrators, bereaved parents, parents of children who have completed treatment, and parents like Mike and me whose children are still in treatment. We attended our first meeting last month and it was very interesting. The main function of the council is to make the whole experience at JFC better.

Stuck in a Moment

One of my favorite songs is “Stuck in a Moment” by U2. It begins, “I am not afraid of anything in this world. There’s nothing you can throw at me that I haven’t already heard.” I thought that was true until October 12, 2006. During the first month of Charlie’s illness, we survived on adrenaline, fear, and the unending support of all of you. I do feel less scared now. I hope we never have to face anything else like this again, but if something does happen I know we can handle it.

Luke, I Am Your Father

During Charlie’s last lumbar puncture (spinal tap), his nurse, Mary, said the recovery room nurse had a tough time waking him up from the anesthesia. Mary just happened by, and knowing Charlie’s love of anything Star Wars, she whispered to him in a deep voice, “Luke, I am your father.” Charlie opened his eyes and said, “Mary, do you even know what episode that is from?”

Wisdom from Our Poet Laureate

A few weeks ago Charlie said to me, “Mum, I feel really weird. The whole inside of me feels really angry, but the whole outside of me feels really happy. I am all confused.”

12/08/08 The following words are the happiest I have ever written: CHARLIE IS CURED!

He received his last dose of chemo at home the day after Thanksgiving. We are thrilled beyond words but I am also feeling a ton of other emotions that I didn’t really expect: happy and sad, numb and exhilarated, confused and focused, hopeful and fearful, calm and anxious, relieved and scared, anchored and adrift.

How do you thank the medical professionals who saved your child’s life? We have lived under the watchful eyes of some of the best doctors and nurses in the world. Moving away from that security is a scary thing. And there is an ever-so-slim chance of relapse.

Looking back, I am amazed that we are all sane. I took my cues from Charlie. Even on his darkest, weakest days, he somehow mustered the strength to carry on. He is the bravest person I know.

Part 2: Relapse and Stem Cell Transplant Charlie at Dana-Farber/Boston Children’s Cancer and Blood Disorders Charlie at Dana-Farber/Boston Children’s Cancer and Blood Disorders Charlie’s cancer returns and he undergoes a stem cell transplant at Dana-Farber/Boston Children’s Cancer and Blood Disorders Center. Charlie will need to spend several months in the hospital in preparation for the stem cell transplant and for a period of time after transplant.

5/21/09 It is with the heaviest of hearts that we write to tell you our Charlie’s leukemia has returned. Needless to say we are all – including his doctors – stunned. His new protocol will most likely include stronger drugs than he took the last time, and it may even entail a bone marrow transplant.

5/31/09 Charlie started treatment on May 23. His doctors worked very hard to get him into a clinical trial that includes a new experimental drug they are very optimistic about. The protocol includes three 36-day blocks of treatment.

After Charlie has completed all three blocks he will start the bone marrow transplant process. This begins with five consecutive days of full body radiation. If all goes well, he will have the transplant, then he will be in isolation in the hospital for four to six weeks. After discharge, he will be in isolation at home for six months to a year.

We have been teaching our boys how to play poker, and even as novices they realize we have been dealt a lousy hand. 6/20/09 Being in the hospital with Charlie for nearly five weeks is finally getting to me. At least Mike and I and Harry and Max get to go home, but home is a hollow and strange place. Every time I go in Charlie’s bedroom or see his backpack hanging behind the kitchen door, I burst into tears.

Harry and Max were not bone marrow matches for Charlie, but the transplant team has found over 900 potential donors. They will cull the list to weed out all but the most perfect matches.

6/28/09 We have reached the end of the first chemo cycle, and Charlie has only gone into partial remission. Full remission is required for a the transplant, so his doctors have decided to bring out the big guns and change his current protocol to one that is much more aggressive.

Lego Master

The staff at Children’s have been telling Charlie he has done so much with Legos that he should have a show. Well, now it is official. When Mike and Charlie returned to the hospital after Charlie’s first furlough, they found the following invitation waiting for them: 7/21/09 Today marks nine weeks to the day that Charlie was admitted to the hospital. The most important news is that he has gone into remission. Also, the transplant team found a donor who is a perfect match. He is a 27-year-old man from somewhere in the United States.

8/24/09 A big poster on Charlie’s door reads “Happy Transplant Day” and it is adorned with stars and pictures of Legos. Charlie received his new bone marrow cells (also known as stem cells) right on schedule. The transplant took about four hours, and other than some nausea and fatigue, he is doing quite well.

It really hit me that a healthy stranger had checked himself into a hospital and suffered a few days of pain and discomfort in order to save my child. I wanted to hug him and tell him that I love him.

With all that Charlie has been through, getting his new cells was actually quite anti-climactic. The cells arrived in a bag (the same as what all blood products arrive in) and they went directly into his central line just like any other IV medication. As I am sure you can imagine, though, the process to get to the actual transplant is much more involved. 9/11/09 Nothing but Blue Skies Skin

One weird thing I wasn’t expecting was the change in Charlie’s appearance after the transplant. Except for a couple of rogue strands, all of his eyelashes and eyebrows had fallen out. His skin was a decidedly blue color and his eyes were freaky. His eyes can look brown, grey or green, depending on the time of day and/or his clothing. However, after the transplant they looked translucent. It was as though I could see into his soul.

Medical Ease

A “new normal” conversation I had with one of Charlie’s nurses:

Nurse: “Charlie has been in a fair amount of pain today, so I think it is time to hook him up to a personal pump for morphine. Would you like him to get a continuous drip with that as well?”

Me: “No. I think we’ll just start with the pump and perhaps order the drip later.” We might as well be ordering bacon and eggs with a side of hash browns. I hate that I know this stuff.

9/22/09 Charlie’s new bone marrow has engrafted, which means the new cells are taking hold. Of course there are still a lot of risks to face in the coming months, but this is a major step towards overall success.

9/25/09 CHARLIE IS HOME! He arrived at about 2 p.m. and immediately began playing with his brothers as though no time had passed. Charlie’s return feels like a rebirth. We made so many preparations for his return, and we are exhausted. However, we are finally all together again and we couldn’t be happier.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GM-BNObCz_g8/8/10 Well, it’s official! After a long year of isolation, Charlie no longer has any restrictions or precautions. He can now do whatever, go wherever, or eat whatever he wants (subject to parental approval, of course).

We celebrated by going out to dinner. We ate in a busy restaurant and Charlie ordered his first fountain drink in more than a year. Later we walked to a local bakery and ate cannolis, another formerly forbidden delight. Perhaps the best part about the end of isolation is that we can now have our friends and family in the house again. On Saturday morning all three boys called their friends and said, “Come on over.”

10/12/10 It’s hard to believe, but four years ago today Charlie was first diagnosed with cancer. He turned 8 last week, so for exactly half of his life he has been battling cancer or dealing with the repercussions of the various treatments. I am thrilled to report that Charlie is doing GREAT! To look at him you would never know the hell he has been through. He is happy, healthy, smart, and really enjoying life. He loves school, and friends, and baseball, and everything that 8-year-old boys are supposed to love.

Life’s a Party

So, my dear friends, parting is such sweet sorrow. Writing these updates has been a lifeline for me, and I will miss sharing them with you. But I am grateful that there is no longer a need to keep you informed of our life with cancer. Instead I hope to stay in touch with you all “just because.”

Part 4: Looking Back: The Rider Family’s Cancer Journey Charlie Rider Charlie Rider In this final installment, Caroline Rider reflects on Charlie’s cancer journey, and the impact it has had on the family. Charlie’s cancer has remained in remission for the two years since coming home from his stem cell transplant.

When I go back and read my own words about Charlie’s experience, I wonder how we all survived. But survive we did. In fact, I would argue that we thrived.

I can’t quite put my finger on it, but when your child gets diagnosed with a life-threatening disease, all of the important things come crisply into focus and the other things recede into the background.

Although it was very hard to learn Charlie had cancer, his experience the first time was good. He only spent 3 1/2 weeks in the hospital and he was a textbook case with very few setbacks. The relapse was much harder. This time, he spent six months in the hospital and had a lot of related problems. I used to wonder, how much more can his body take? In the early days after diagnosis, we asked our doctors how Charlie got this disease. They said: Bad luck. Well, since that day, we have been very lucky and I try very hard to concentrate on that. Charlie is lucky because acute lymphoblastic leukemia (ALL) is the most common form of childhood cancer, so it gets a lot of attention and money. What about the children who have rare forms of cancer that don’t get the same funding and attention? More than ever we are dedicated to the Jimmy Fund and Dana-Farber and all of the fabulous people who work there. We will continue to help raise money for them and work with them to help make cancer history.

Once while watching the Boston Marathon I thought, how cool to be an elite runner, leading the pack. Then I realized that Mike and I are part of an elite group of caregivers who run marathons every day in order to save our children.

Throughout this ordeal people asked us, “How do you do it? How do you keep moving forward and keep everything straight?” We didn’t have a choice. Like most parents, we will do anything to save our children. It helps to have a great partner and a support group of friends and family.

Here are some tips for others in our shoes:

Choose a group of caregivers who will treat your child like he is their own and will fight tooth and nail to cure him. Take help when it’s offered. Be specific. Our neighbors mowed the lawn, trimmed the hedges, did errands, and brought us food. Try to have fun. The Jimmy Fund Clinic has festivals and parties and offers free tickets to shows and games. Take advantage of these offerings, more for the rest of your family than for your sick child. We were a family of five who took a turn we didn’t expect. We’ll never know where the other road would have gone, because we took this one. We met people who enriched our lives in ways we never could have imagined – caregivers, experts, and other families. As a family we love each other more, because we almost lost one of us.

#backyard buzz cut #Jimmy Fund Clinic #lymphoblastic leukemia #Cell Cancer #Leukemia

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