#thanks Karen I feel your spirit with me in this office today | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fiftyshadesofcorona · 3 years ago

Text

Fifty Shades of Corona

A Brief Note Before You Begin

This novel is intended to be semi-satirical and "so stupid that it's funny", so please do not take it too seriously. It is meant to be savored enjoyed, sip by precious sip, like a fine wine…or something…either alone or amongst your most well-humored friends.

Epigraph

“But it is only in epic tragedies that gloom is unrelieved. In real life tragedy and comedy are so intermingled that when one is most wretched ridiculous things happen to make one laugh in spite of oneself.”

Georgette Heyer

Prelude

The forested roads of Northern Washington are eery and empty as I race back to him.

It was the last thing that I expected to happen during the global Coronavirus pandemic.

It came on fast, terrifying and all-consuming—gripping my heart and invading my mind.

I still can’t believe it…

I’ve fallen in love.

I glance over at my phone resting silently on the passenger’s side seat.

My stomach twists with grief and my knuckles go bone-white against the steering wheel.

Why hasn’t he called?!

What if—

I shake the thought away before I can finish it. If I let my mind go there it will be the end of me.

A few days ago, I didn’t even know he existed.

Now I don’t know whether I’ll ever be able to exist again without him.

I swipe at my cheeks, hot tears streaking my hand.

This is bad.

This is so so bad.

The seaside exit comes into view.

I lean forward and take a deep breath, trying to compose myself.

Nearly there.

I hope he’s okay.

I hope I can see him.

Even if it’s our last goodbye.

Tears well in my eyes.

I hope I’m not too late.

Chapter One

The Mob

“See you tomorrow, Ana! And thanks for bringing the cupcakes. They were delicious!”

I turn to wave goodbye to my coworker Jessica, who’s still busy stocking the shelves with sewing supplies. Jessica’s the only other worker here at Karen’s Krafts besides myself and our dome-haircut-wielding owner-slash-manager, Karen.

“I’m glad you liked them,” I say brightly. “They’re my grandmother’s recipe. Super easy.”

“No kidding?” she says, looking surprised. “Well tell your grandma her recipe was the bomb.”

“Will do. See you tomorrow!” I begin to clock out of the computer, but stop to add, “And good luck with the crowds. This Coronavirus stuff is crazy!”

Jessica steps back and gives me a look.

“Tell me about it! I’m running low on toilet paper, but nobody has it stocked.”

“Dang. That sucks.”

“Ch—tell me about it.”

I finish clocking out.

“Anyway,” I say, sighing. “I better get going. I have to make a run and try to pick up some…ahem…lady products…if you know what I mean.”

Jessica’s eyes get big. “Oh no, Ana. You can’t be serious!”

“Very serious. I’m all out.”

Jessica frowns. “I would give you some of mine if I had them, but I’m all out, too. Good thing it’s not my time of the month.”

My eyebrows arch up to my hairline. “Consider yourself lucky.”

“Shit, here she comes,” Jessica whispers.

When I look up, Jessica’s back at work stocking the bobbins and thread.

My manager Karen waddles up to the register and lingers over the back of my shoulder. I finish straightening up the counter, trying my best not to recoil from the hot puffs of breath hitting the back of my neck. I peek back at her dome haircut and put on my customer-service smile.

“What’s up? How did you like the cupcakes?”

I try to guess whether she has a complaint or is just bored. Those are the only two reasons I’ve ever seen Karen willingly leave her office. The unpleasant expression on her face tells me nothing, as it is a permanent feature of hers.

“Cupcakes?” she says distractedly. Glancing down, I notice she’s clutching a clipboard with something on it. Her lips move silently as she reads from whatever it is.

I clear my throat. “I brought some cupcakes this morning. German chocolate. Very tasty.”

She says nothing, so I grab my purse from under the counter. “I hoped they might cheer everybody up. You know, with the virus and all?”

“Virus?!” Her head snaps up, eyes bulging. “You have the virus?!”

“No, I made cupcakes to cheer every—“ I start to explain, but stop myself when I see the blind panic on her face. “No. I don’t have the virus.”

She relaxes and heaves a sigh of relief, which hits me square in the face.

The smell! I hold my breath and try not to make a face.

I shift my purse on my shoulder and open my mouth to tell her goodbye when she spits out, “Say, can I speak to you for a sec?”

Crap. This can’t be good.

“Sure,” I say, forcing cheer into my voice. I set my purse on the counter and wait for her to continue. She clears her throat wetly, looks down at her clipboard, then clears her throat again.

Yep, definitely bad news. I brace myself.

“Ana, we’ve decided to let you go.”

My shoulders tense, and there’s a rush of something terrible down in my stomach.

“Today is your last day,” she continues, reading robotically from her clipboard.

Is she serious? I’ve worked here for a year and a half, never been late for a single shift, and always gotten stellar performance reviews. I’m basically a model employee!

“Thank you for the work you’ve done here, and I wish you the best in your future endeavors,” she finishes.

“You’re firing me?” I ask in a small voice that surprises even me.

“Not exactly…but sort of.”

This can’t be happening. “Wh—what did I do wrong?”

“I didn’t say you did anything wrong, did I?” She looks put-out, another typical expression of hers.

My shoulders relax a little.

“Did you even listen to a word I said?” she says, shaking her head. “I said you’re being put on non-disciplinary indefinite leave.”

I cock my head, confused. “Um, I don’t think that’s what you said.”

She huffs and holds the clipboard back up.

“It’s exactly what I said. See, right here.”

She jabs a finger at the page, face reddening as she purses her lips.

Jeez. And I thought she looked unpleasant before…

She slaps the clipboard onto the counter. “Either way I’m saying it now.”

“So, I’m not fired?”

Crap. I’m so confused right now.

“No,” she huffs again. “You’re not fired. But you’re no longer scheduled for any shifts. And we’ll be taking you off the payroll.”

“Um…okay…”

That sounds a lot like being fired, but I decide not to push the subject.

Tears press at the corners of my eyes as I take a moment to process everything. Karen must notice, because she lets out another sigh and steps towards me. Her hand thumps heavily on my shoulder. “But I want you to know that it’s not you, it’s us.” She pats me once, then steps back, looking pleased with herself.

I suddenly feel like I’m going through an awkward breakup. Which I guess I am in a way.

“Wow. Um…What a surprise.” I catch myself wringing my hands so I stop. “Is it because of the virus?”

“Of course it’s because of the virus!” she shouts. “What else would it be? It’s certainly not my fault! I’ll have you know that Karen’s Krafts is extremely successful,” she gestures wildly. “Perhaps the most successful small business in all of Seattle!“

“You’re right, Karen.” I quickly say the three magic words that always calm her when she gets like this.

Sure enough, she lowers her arms and tries to composes herself.

“You probably haven’t noticed, Ana, but we’re not doing as much business as usual.”

In fact, I have noticed. The store has been totally dead for the last week and a half. But I don’t want to risk setting her off again, so I stay quiet. Luckily, she doesn’t seem to expect me to reply.

“Nothing like the grocery stores,” she says with a bitter laugh. She shakes her head and gives a shrug. “Just have to let some people go for the time being.”

“How long until I’m able to come back?”

She shrugs her shoulders again.

“No way to know. I’m only keeping Jessica because she’s my niece.”

I nod my head.

“Right, right. Makes sense.” Not really, but whatever. I’m totally against nepotism. It sucks and it’s everywhere, but there’s no getting away from it—sort of like Coronavirus.

“Of course it makes sense. That’s why I’m doing it!” Karen snaps. She snatches up her clipboard and turns to walk away. “Anyway, if things get better I’ll call you. Make sure you answer.”

“Thanks,” is all I can muster in response as she disappears into the restroom.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, everything sinks in.

I just lost my job.

During a global pandemic.

“Oh, and Ana!” Karen’s voice booms from the toilet.

I knew she’d change her mind!

“Yes?!” I call out brightly.

“Don’t forget to leave your name tag.”

My shoulders fall.

“Sure thing, Karen.” I unpin the familiar badge from my shirt and set it on the counter. It looks as small as I feel. I take a few deep breaths and turn to leave. All I want right now is to get the hell out of here and get home as soon as possible so I can relax, have a good cry, and think over what to do next.

A thought occurs to me.

What am I going to do about my rent?

Crap. I can feel the tears coming…

A second later, my sadness turns to anger, and I clench my fists.

This sucks so f-ing bad. Like, what the heck did I ever do to deserve this! Ugh!

I force myself to remain composed. This isn’t the time to break down into hysterics.

I give myself a little pep talk.

Calm down, Ana. You’re a fully grown, strong, capable young woman. You’ll get through this. All you need to do is grab hold of your big girl panties and ride them clear up the crack of your ass so hard there’s no chance in hell they’ll be going anywhere anytime soon.

Now that my spirits have been sufficiently lifted, I’m ready to take on the world. Or at the very least, my own small corner of it.

I stop in front of the exit to check my phone and notice seven missed phone calls and three missed text messages from my mother.

I roll my eyes. Of course. She’s a typical narcissistic, panicky boomer. At sixty-five years old she’s never worked a day in her life, attends church two to three times per week, and still believes in the magic of prayer. It may sound like I hate her, but I don’t. She annoys me, sure. But deep down I keep telling myself she has my best interest at heart, even if what her heart is telling her isn’t actually what’s in my best interest…if that makes any sense. With that said, whatever she has to say is certain to irritate me far beyond what I’m currently able to stand.

I decide to get it over with.

I take a deep breath and read the first text.

Mom: Ana, this is your mother. Just texting to let you know I called. I’m very worried about you with all of this virus stuff going on. Praying for you. Love Always, Your Mother.

Okay. Fairly normal so far given the circumstances. Maybe I was wrong to judge her so quickly.

I scroll down to the second text, which looks like it was sent…I squint to see—oh yes: exactly three minutes after the first one, and two minutes after the last three phone calls.

Mom: Ana, this is your mother. I’ve been praying and praying for you to call me back. I am deeply worried about you. I’ve tried calling you three more times. It’s not like you to ignore my phone calls, especially during such dark and uncertain times as these. Call me back as soon as you get this. My heart is hurting to know if my sweet little Ana is okay. Love Always, Your Mother.

A little worse this time, but not the worst I’ve seen.

I brace myself for the third text, which I know will be bad because it was sent exactly two minutes after the second text, and one minute after the last three calls.

Mom: Ana, this is your mother. I’m seriously freaking out right now. I keep having visions of you lying in a body bag, stiff as a frozen lamb chop and twice as cold. Why are you being such an obstinate, petulant child? I keep calling and calling, and still no answer. I keep praying and praying, but still no answer. Why aren’t you answering me, dear daughter? Why aren’t you answering me, dear Lord? My heart is heavy with sorrow and worry for the precious daughter I raised and nurtured by the milk of my own breasts. I’m so scared, sweet daughter. My nerves are frazzled and frayed beyond mortal repair. I feel as though I may collapse into a puddle of eternal sorrow. My heart is aching for you, my sweet dear little girl. My sweet, sweet precious daughter. Oh Lord, why have you forsaken her? Call me as soon as you get this. Love Always, Your Mother.

Okay, what the hell? I’m not even going to get started on how freaking weird that was.

I decide it might be better to wait until I get home to call her back. Something tells me the phone call won’t be quick, and I really need to get to the store to get my lady supplies, so I decide to opt for a text instead.

Ana: Calm down, Mom. I’m fine. I just got off work, and now I have to make a run to Wholesome Foods for some supplies. Please don’t worry. I’ll call you as soon as I get home. Love, Ana.

Hopefully that suffices to stave off the insanity.

My phone immediately pings with her reply.

Mom: Sounds good. Love Always, Your Mother.

Simple enough. A little odd, given the texts that came before it, but I’ll take it.

I pause and look out the front door before leaving. Beyond the window, thin sheets of rain coat the steamy sidewalks of Seattle. I notice most of the people who pass by look panicked. Ever since the Coronavirus started everyone has seemed more alert and on edge. At first I found it exciting, because they all seemed less depressed and more alive. But now it’s beginning to worry me.

I finger the small silver cross bracelet my grandmother gave me for my sixteenth birthday. It had been my great-grandmother’s before it was hers, but I never got the full story behind it. I do, however, remember her telling me it was for courage and strength, which is what I need most right now.

I take a deep breath and push through the door.

The door bell dings, and once I’m outside I breathe in the cool damp air. The rain is lighter than I expected—more of a mist really, so I decide to leave my umbrella unopened and gaze up at the silver clouds as they roil and swirl above me. There’s something wonderful about their movement, and I find myself getting lost in them.

DING! DING! DING! RIGHT SIDE!

My peaceful reverie is rudely interrupted.

DING! DING! DING! RIGHT SIDE!

Shit! Cyclists!

DING! DING! DING!…

I leap left at the last moment, barely dodging a small herd of spandex-clad cyclists thrusting through the crowd like they own the street. I brace myself against a tree to keep from falling over, when one of them—a middle-aged man-child with greying temples—looks back at me and scowls.

I put up my hand to apologize even though he’s probably the one who should be apologizing.

He turns and mutters something under his breath that sounds like “Bitch” and keeps pedaling.

I turn and bite my fingernail. What an asshole.

Crap.

I pull my fingers out of my mouth. That’s probably not the best thing I could be doing during a global viral outbreak.

I reach into my purse for some hand sanitizer and slather the cool alcohol over my fingers.

Two steps into my walk, my phone buzzes.

What now?

I check my phone. It’s Stacy, my best friend and roommate.

Stacy: Are you off work yet!?

My thumbs tap out a reply.

Ana: Just got off.

I look up from my phone. A woman who looks like she might have been sane a week ago but who is now basically a bag lady passes by me with a shopping cart full of bathroom supplies, screaming “Fuck you! Got mine!”

As she passes, I look closer at her hand and spot what appears to be a taser.

I pause and make a face. What the hell has this world come to?

My phone buzzes with another text.

Stacy: Cool. Check it. Blue fish bowls. Remember these things?

A cotton-candy-filtered photo pops up of Stacy slurping down a big blue fishbowl margarita.

I smile at Stacy’s exaggerated duck face.

Then I notice Dezzy in the background. Dezzy’s the friend Stacy brought down to Florida with her for Spring Break instead of me. She looks drunk as she flashes a peace sign with one hand and a middle finger with the other. Ugh. Dezzy can be such a… I’m not even going to say it. She’s always hated me for reasons, which is strange because I never had a problem with her. Oh well. Best to ignore it.

Ana: Looks like fun.

Stacy: ’Tis. ’Tis.

I’m tempted to tell her about being put on indefinite leave, but I don’t want to ruin her good time, so I tuck my phone away. The bad news can wait.

I pass by a homeless man trying to sell face masks on the street corner. As I pass by, I notice half of them are covered in dirt stains and are clearly used, and it’s obvious he’s been digging through the local hospital dumpster to find them.

He shoves one in my face.

“Twenty dollars!”

I move away from him. “No thanks.”

He follows me a few steps. “Ten dollars!”

I shake my head, wincing.

“Five!”

“I’m fine,” I laugh nervously. “Really.”

“Fine. One dollar. Final offer.”

“But they look like you found them in a dumpster, sir!”

“Still good. See, clean enough.” He dangles it in front of my face and turns it so I can see all the sides.

I pull out a dollar and hand it to him, but tell him he can keep the mask.

“You need a mask,” he says, and tries to put it on my face.

“Fine, I’ll take it.” I quickly grab the mask out of his hand before he’s able to touch my face with it.

“God bless!” he spits through his last remaining tusk, and turns to his next victim.

I hold the mask as far away from my body as possible, and toss it in the nearest garbage can. When I turn back to see if the homeless man saw me I catch him glaring at me.

“Sorry,” I mouth.

He scurries over to the garbage can to retrieve it.

Shit!

I run through the crowd to get away from him, and I don’t stop until I’m nearly a block away, where I pull out my phone and text Stacy.

Ana: You should see it here, Stacy. Things are getting crazy.

Stacy: Yeah, no shit. I saw the news. Seattle blows. Florida is way more fun!

Ana: I bet. How’s the silver fox hunt going?

FYI, the real reason Stacy’s down in Florida for Spring Break is to hunt for an older man to marry. And when I say old, I mean like really old. See, Stacy’s life didn’t pan out quite like she had hoped. She failed out of college during her first semester and can’t seem to hold down a job. In her mind, the next logical step is to marry into money. And since most guys with money are older, she figures the older he is the more she’s hedging her bet.

I look around at all the depressed and desperately overworked faces passing by and can’t help but wonder if maybe she’s onto something.

Stacy: Sucks so far. Nothing but poor frat guys with big muscles and orange tans. All the silver foxes are holed up in hiding from the stupid virus.

Ana: Dang. Bad timing.

Stacy: You’re telling me. It’s hard out here for a bitch!

I smile, but it doesn’t last long. Something about her comment reminds me that I’m out of a job.

Should I tell her now?

Probably.

Ana: I feel like I’m about to cry, Stacy. Karen basically just fired me.

Stacy: What!? Why would she fire you? You’re like the best employee ever?

Ana: Well, technically she put me on indefinite leave.

Stacy: What the freak is that?

Ana: It means I don’t get a paycheck for who knows how long, and I don’t know when they’ll hire me back…if ever.

Stacy: That sucks, Banana. I’m sorry. How the heck are we going to pay the rent?

Yeah, she calls me Banana. It’s a play on Ana, if you missed it. She’s clever like that.

Ana: It’s okay. I’ll be okay. I’m not sure about the rent, though.

But I’m not okay. My eyes grow hot with tears. What am I going to do for money? Where will I live if we get evicted?

Stacy: Shit. I just realized I won’t have any money left after this trip. Hopefully I can find a silver fox fast. :(

Ana: Hopefully. :(

I turn the corner and see a long line of customers waiting outside Wholesome Foods. People are crammed together, yelling and jostling for position, and for some reason it reminds me of the movie The Night of the Living Dead.

Double crap.

A heavy wave of sickness washes over me, and I feel like I might pass out.

I really don’t want to go to the store right now, so I rifle through my purse in a last ditch effort to find a tampon to hold me over until tomorrow. My fingers find a string.

Ah ha!

But wait…

I pull it out.

Crap.

Not only is it out of its wrapper, it’s covered in lint and snack crumbs and looks like it’s old enough to attend kindergarten.

I drop it back into my purse and tap out a question to Stacy.

Ana: Do tampons expire?

Stacy: No, they’re like condoms. They last forever.

Ana: Um… Are you sure?

Stacy: Totally sure.

I want to trust her, but I’m pretty sure she’s wrong. Looks like I’ll have to wait in line.

I step into line behind a mother and her five children, one of whom is screaming at the top of it’s lungs for no reason.

My phone buzzes with a new text.

Stacy: Hey bitch. How’s your depressing life?

What the?

That was out of nowhere. How many fish bowls has Stacy had so far? Jeez.

I try to figure out how to respond when another text comes in.

Stacy: I’m glad you didn’t come down here with us. It’s better for everyone.

I shake my head, confused.

Ana: Excuse me?

Stacy: Sorry, Dez took my phone.

Ana: Oh. That explains it.

Stacy: Dez was just joking.

Uh huh. Right.

The line moves forward a few steps, and when it stops the crowd lets out a collective sigh.

Stacy: We both wish you were here. You should have come with.

Ana: Somebody had to stay and look after the apartment… Besides, it’s probably not the nicest thing to be down there partying and putting so many people at risk.

Stacy: Get off your high horse Banana! You decided not to go long before the virus happened.

I can’t say she’s wrong.

Stacy begged me to go but I opted to save money and get some extra hours at work.

Oh, the irony.

But if I had decided to go on the trip, I like to think I would have cancelled as soon as I knew it would be putting people at risk. Still, there’s no use in arguing with Stacy.

Ana: I’m probably just jealous.

Stacy: As you should be. Florida is so much better than dreary depressing Seattle.

Ana: Yeah, if you like living in a giant trailer park filled with bugs, alligators, and old people.

Stacy: LoL

I laugh a little as the line moves forward a few paces.

Stacy: Seriously though. Take it easy on the old people. They’re my last ticket to freedom.

Ana: I still think you can do better for yourself, but what do I know?

Stacy: Obviously not much. Face it, I’m fucked if I can’t find a rich man to marry.

She might be right, but I refuse to agree.

Stacy: Besides, old guys are hot. I’m surprised you don’t look for one yourself, given your present circumstance.

I can’t say I’ve ever found older-older men hot. Unless of course the guy was only a little bit older. Then I’d be fine with it.

Ana: I guess I just think I have more potential than that. I’d like to earn my own living and independence some day, even if it’s hard.

There’s a brief pause where she doesn’t reply, and I wonder if I offended her.

Ana: At least that’s what I’m hoping for. Who knows if it will happen.

Stacy: You do you and I’ll do me, Banana.

I roll my eyes.

Ana: Come on, I’m sure there are plenty of decent jobs you could get that don’t require a college degree.

Stacy: Ew gross! I’d rather kill myself than work for a living. Fuck that.

I laugh. She’s right in a way. Work sucks major ass. The only times I’m ever truly unhappy are when I’m at work.

Ana: There might be some truth to what you’re saying.

Stacy: Just wait. One of these days some rich older guy is going to catch your eye. Then you’ll change your mind.

I think it over.

Ana: Okay, and say that does happen. How do you expect I’ll get him? It’s not like I have much to offer besides my youth.

Stacy: Not true. You look great, Banana.

Ana: Whatever. I know what I look like.

Stacy: You don't give yourself enough credit. You’re gorgeous. And totally smart.

Even though I know she’s just saying these things to cheer me up, I still can’t help but smile.

Ana: But seriously, how does one go about snagging a rich man?

Stacy: What you need are some good pick up lines.

Right…

I look up and see that the line has moved quite a bit from where I started. At this rate I’ll be inside in no time.

Stacy: Here’s one I’ve been practicing for my hunt… Have you ever been arrested? Because your looks are killer.

I roll my eyes.

Ana: Maybe I’ll give it a try some day.

Stacy: Do it. You won’t be disappointed.

A fight breaks out at the front of the line.

Seconds later, the two guys fighting are escorted away by a masked security guard and the line moves forward to fill the gap.

As I near the entrance, the crowd noise grows louder, and a swarm of customers break through the exit.

Crap! They’re charging right at me.

I quickly side-step out of their way and a middle-aged white woman with a dome haircut shoves past me into the store, making me do a double-take.

Phew. Not Karen.

As the woman passes by, I overhear a small portion of her phone conversation:

“I’m pretty sure I have it. I’m going to the doctor right now. I just have to stop at Wholesome Foods real quick.”

Holy crap. This place is like a war zone or something.

I enter the store close behind Karen Number 2.

Once inside, I immediately notice two things:

1. Nobody in this store seems to be wearing a mask, and…

2. All the grocery carts and baskets are gone.

I take a deep breath.

Everything’s okay, I tell myself. Just improvise and get out as fast as you can.

I hurry past the entrance and into the toiletry section.

Okay…tampons…where are the tampons?

I look down an aisle and see people lined up at the pharmacy, scrambling for asthma medication and pills. Thank goodness I’m fairly healthy and don’t need any medication. If push comes to shove, I can get by for months on my one-a-day multivitamin.

I step into the feminine hygiene aisle where a group of frustrated women are looking around frantically.

One of them says to the others, “Where are the fucking tampons!”

I look over the shelves, and they’re nearly empty.

Come on…tampons…tampons…there has to be one more pack somewhere.

I start digging through the merchandise, checking back behind the other products.

No luck.

Okay. Think, Ana. Think. What could you do?

My phone buzzes with a text.

Stacy: Where did you go?

Ana: There aren’t any tampons at the store! What am I going to do?”

Stacy: Okay. I’m calling you.

American Girl blares through my phone speakers.

I hold the phone out in front of me and right as I’m about to accept the call a scruffy-looking guy appears out of nowhere and sneezes all over the front of my screen.

I look up at him, totally grossed out.

“Sorry, dude,” he says, then disappears down the aisle.

Crap. There’s no way I’m holding this thing up to my head now.

The song keeps playing, tinny notes ringing out.

A rude woman nearby screams, “Answer your goddamn phone!”

“Sorry,” I mutter, and tap the speakerphone button, careful to avoid the spit droplets on the screen.

The first thing I and everybody within a twenty-five-foot radius hears is an obnoxious slurping sound.

Several shoppers turn and glare at me, so I hurry into a side aisle where there aren’t as many people. “Geez, Stacy. What are you drinking?” I hiss at the phone. “You sound like Lord Buttcrack with his ten gallon gas station sodas.”

Lord Buttcrack is the nickname Stacy and I have given our fat, greedy, disgusting landlord, on account of the fact that we’ve never seen him without half of his butt crack hanging out of his pants.

“Hold it right there,” Stacy says. “Don’t you dare ever compare me to Lord Buttcrack. I love you dearly, but that’s taking it too far. Besides, he sounds more like a butthole.”

I laugh at her drunken simile. “I don’t like that image. Why are you thinking about his butthole?”

“Hey, where there’s a crack, there’s always a hole.”

Um…

“As to your first question,” she continues, “I just finished my third Blue Ocean Fishbowl.”

“Holy crap! You drank three of them? Don’t they come in, like, a literal fish bowl?”

“Mm-hm. And the alcohol content is through the roof.”

“Something tells me you’re going to regret this.”

“Doubt it.”

I sigh.

“Anyway, back to my tampon problem.”

“Where did Joey go?” Dezzy’s voice cuts in.

“Who the hell is Joey?!” Stacy shouts.

“The guy with the muscles, duh,” Dezzy moans in the background.

“They all have muscles!” Stacy cries.

“Ugh…the one with the tan!”

“They all have tans!”

“Hello!?” I say loudly into the phone.

“Oh, sorry. Seriously, Dezzy is being such a bitch.”

“You’re the fucking bitch, bitch!” Dezzy laugh-screams in the background.

“Whatever…” Stacy says. “Back to the problem at hand. Can’t you just wear pads?”

“They’re out of those, too.”

A woman nearby overhears our conversation and approaches me.

“Pads? Did someone say pads? Where are the pads? I need more pads! There have to be more pads!”

Stacy starts laughing so hard she begins to choke.

The woman’s frantic energy scares the crap out of me, so I back away from her and hurry into the clothing section, which seems to be the only empty part of the store.

I duck down under some hanging dresses and tops. “Seriously, Stacy. What should I do?”

“Let me think…” Stacy muses. “Oh, I know! A while back I was watching this TV show about these female prison inmates…”

Great.

“Okay?”

“Bare with me,” she says, sensing my doubt.

“K.”

“Anyway, whenever the prison ran out of tampons, the women would just wad up a bunch of toilet paper and shove it up their pussies.”

Genius. Simply genius.

A woman with a stroller opens the clothing rack and pokes her head in. “Could you keep it down with the profanity? Children are nearby!”

“Fuck off, lady!” Stacy screams at her through the phone.

The woman scoffs and throws the clothing rack closed.

“It’s not the worst idea,” I say. “Only problem is they’re all out of toilet paper as well.”

“Hmm…

“I need more ideas.”

“You could just free bleed,” she says.

“I don’t know what that is.”

“It’s when you…”

“Actually, never mind.”

“You’re sure?”

“Totally sure.”

“Fine. Scratch that.. Let’s see…” Stacy makes a weird sucking sound with her mouth while she’s thinking.

Another customer comes by and starts sliding the shirts around me.

“What’s that annoying noise?” Stacy says.

“I’m under a rack of tank tops and someone’s looking through them.”

“Oops, sorry!” The faceless searcher says.

“It’s fine,” I say back nicely.

Stacy gasps. “I know!”

“What?”

“Why don’t you just cut up a tank top and shove it up your pussy?”

I laugh.

“Come on. That’s ghetto.”

“Yeah. But what else are you going to do?”

She’s got a point. What if this is the answer?

“But I don’t wanna!” I groan into the phone.

“I know it sucks, Banana. But it’s probably your only option.”

“Fine. Whatever.”

I crawl out from under the clothing rack and grab three spaghetti strap tank tops.

“Do you think three is enough?”

“Um…probably.”

“Okay. Good to go. Now it’s time to get the hell out of here.”

“You go girl!”

As I’m walking towards the front checkout, I spot some cotton balls out of the corner of my eye.

Hmm. These could be useful.

I snag them off the shelf.

“Hey, Stacy, do you think cotton balls…”

“WHAT!” someone screams on Stacy’s end.

A man across the aisle glares at me.

I mouth “sorry” and turn away.

“Quiet down,” I hiss. “Or I’m hanging up.”

“IS THIS ANA?!”

Shit. It’s Dezzy again.

“Dez, put Stacy back on the phone,” I whisper.

“FUCK YOU, ANA! YOU FUCKING BITCH!”

“Okay, I’m hanging up.”

“WOO! SPRING BREAK!” Dezzy screams so loud my speaker pops.

I hang up the phone and slip it into my pocket.

When I get to the front of the store, I join the back of the nearest line and take in my surroundings. All around me carts are overflowing. Off to my left, a plump woman is loading fifteen large cases of soda onto the conveyor belt, and the guy behind her has nothing but vanilla puddings and beef jerky.

He catches me staring and smiles at me. Holy hell! All his teeth are missing. I don’t even want to guess how he’s going to eat all that jerky.

“Next!” a young female voice calls from the front of the line.

I turn toward the register, but can’t seem to see the girl who said it. All I see is some sort of contraption where the register should be that looks like four broom sticks wrapped in layers of cellophane.

The dome-headed woman ahead of me huffs up to the register and hacks onto the cellophane.

Holy crap! It’s the Karen Clone from earlier!

I leave some distance between us and try not to breathe in whatever she’s hacking.

“Excuse me!” Karen Number 2 brays at the cellophane. “You forgot to ask me if I found everything I was looking for.”

The cellophane sucks in and releases with a sigh, and the disembodied voice from earlier returns. “Did you find everything you were—“

“No. I. Did. Not.” Spittle from Karen Number 2’s mouth hits the cellophane with each word. “And I need to speak to your manager. Immediately.”

The girl behind the plastic lets out another sigh. “Randy! Customer for you.”

A ruddy-faced man shuffles our way, but before he makes it to the register, Karen Number 2 marches towards to him.

“Next!” the girl behind the cellophane says, not caring if the woman loses her place in line.

I step forward to the register.

“I think some people are worse than the virus,” she says from behind the barrier.

I laugh. “No kidding.”

She sighs and the plastic wrap squeaks.

I clear my throat. “Um…What is this thing?”

“Modified spit guard. Courtesy of my dumb asshole manager.”

I laugh. “It looks pretty…um…”

“Shit?”

“Yeah, sort of,” I giggle.

“It would be better if he hadn’t triple wrapped the cellophane. Now I can’t see anything.”

“Why are most managers such bozos?” I scoff.

“Because the owners know if they were too smart they’d quit.”

I think it over. “Then why are some of the employees so smart?”

“Because it doesn’t matter if they quit.”

I laugh. It’s so true!

Then it occurs to me. “Why can’t you just wear masks and gloves?”

“Mr. Bozo thinks it will scare the customers.”

I frown at the plastic wrap.

“Wow. That’s really stupid.”

“Tell me about it,” she sighs.

My heart goes out to the girl trapped behind the cellophane. Her face is so blurred that I wouldn’t even know she was a girl if it weren’t for her voice.

“Nobody sees us and nobody cares,” she says hauntingly.

A chill runs down my spine.

I don’t know what to say, so I look down at my feet.

“Your total comes to $17.20.”

Crap, that’s expensive. I really wish they were carrying tampons.

I pull out my wallet and grab two tens.

When I look up I notice there’s a card reader, but no way to get her the cash.

“Um…all I have is cash.”

A tiny index finger appears above the cellophane, then points down. “Make it rain on this bitch.”

I fold the bills into fourths so they don’t scatter, then toss them over. “Keep the change.”

“Oh wow. Thanks,” She says. Her voice is different this time, less depressed. “Seriously, I need it.”

“No problem. Good luck.”

“Psh! Thanks,” she says with a laugh.

I laugh, too. “K, bye.”

Behind me, the ruddy-faced manager announces that the store is closing in ten minutes, and half the customers groan.

A woman in the cereal aisle screams, “This is bullshit! I need food for my kids!”

Behind me, a mob forms around the checkouts and people flood into the entrance.

Crap. Time to get out of here.

The woman from the personal care aisle who needed pads exits empty-handed in front of me and her face looks absolutely furious. When she gets outside, she turns around, pulls out the waistband of her sweatpants, reaches down between her legs, and rips out a used pad!

I gasp. Oh no!

In one swift motion, she slaps the bloody pad on the grocery store window, where it sticks like a suction cup animal.

“This is what you get for not having pads!” she screams like a banshee.

The crowd behind me groans with disgust.

What in the actual fuck?

A thick wave of nausea washes over me, and I feel like I might puke.

I search for another way out, but this is the only exit, so I step in front of the door and try not to look at the bloody pad stuck to the window. But for some reason I can’t help myself, and when I look up, the door slides open and the pad smears fresh blood across the glass before falling down onto the sidewalk.

Oh my God, WTF!

I throw up a little in my mouth, but manage to make it outside.

As if things couldn’t get any worse, the moment I step out I spot a trashy-looking mother trying to steal a mask off the face of a middle-aged man so her son can wear it.

“Come on,” she says, “he needs it more than you do!”

“Even if I wanted to give it to him, it’s a bad idea,” the poor guy says. “I could be carrying the virus!”

“Bullshit!” she screams. “Hand it over!”

She lurches for his mask and rips it loose.

Holy crap! What should I do?

A loud pop rips through the crowd, and the trashy woman falls to the ground and twitches around like she’s being electrocuted.

I turn and look down at the poor guy’s hand and see that he’s holding a taser.

“Oh my God, did you just tase her?” a woman from the crowd cries out.

“She was trying to steal my mask!” the poor guy says.

“You’re an animal!” a pregnant woman seethes as she clutches her belly protectively.

“How could you?” says someone in the crowd.

“The poor thing,” adds yet another.

The next thing I know, three white knight teenage boys are on top of the poor guy, beating him with their fists.

I cover my mouth with my hand, horrified by their savagery.

People leaving the store join in the fight, and within seconds it’s a full-on mob.

What the crap! It just keeps getting worse! I need to get out of here.

I dash for an clear spot of sidewalk near the curb, but right as I’m about to break free from the hoard, an errant body slams into me, sending me headfirst into the street. The pavement comes rushing towards my face, and at the last moment my hands shoot up just in time to stop me from landing face-first. I slide violently out into the street as my hands scrape along the asphalt, splashing puddle water into my face. The pain is immense and brings back vivid memories of the times I used to fall off my bike.

When I finally manage to look up I see that everything I just bought has been strewn out into the roaring traffic. The tank tops are stained brown and the cotton balls are soaked black.

A car honks and swerves, barely missing my head as my face is thrashed with water.

I gasp for breath as I crawl backwards towards the sidewalk.

Another car roars by, flattening everything I bought into a puddle.

Hot tears well in my eyes.

People behind me are asking each other what to do, but nobody makes a move to help me up.

Just then, a large SUV stops in front of me, and I catch sight of my reflection in the polished silver paint.

I gasp out in horror. The girl I see looking back at me looks like she just crept out of a lake.

The tinted rear passenger-side window rolls down a crack.

“Are you okay?” A dark voice says.

I squint at the tint, hoping to catch sight of the faceless man speaking to me, but all I can make out is a dark shock of hair. I push myself up from the puddle and step towards him.

“Stay back!” he says. His voice is so loud it echoes through the street, startling me.

I shuffle back two steps, look down and ring my hands.

“Sorry…”

“Don’t,” he says, then lets out a long, loud sigh. “I apologize for my tone, but I would prefer not to risk contact.”

“I totally understand. I—”

“Listen, are you okay?” he snaps, interrupting me.

A laugh escapes me. “Obviously not!”

I’m surprised by my own frankness, but something takes hold of me.

“I mean, its not like I just lost my job and won’t be able to pay my rent this month!”

Someone giggles behind me as the mysterious man in the backseat of the SUV remains silent.

“And…and… it’s not like I’m on my period right now and can’t seem to find a box of tampons or pads to save my life!”

A couple more people laugh.

I take a deep breath, about to cry as my voice grows louder.

“And it’s not like spaghetti strap tank tops were the only reasonable alternative!”

The laughter behind me stops.

“Damn!” someone shouts from the silenced crowd.

But I don’t care, and my voice only grows louder still.

“And it’s not like I had to fight through ten thousand assholes just to get that!”

I turn around and see several angry faces staring me down.

“And it’s not like you fucking animals shoved me into the street and the spaghetti strap tank tops I was supposed to shove up my pussy are now rotting at the bottom of a water-filled pothole!”

A pimple-faced teenage boy doubles over in laughter.

“Oh my God!” he says, wagging his finger at me. “She’s good.”

“Fucking animals, huh?!” a man in the crowd yells. “I’ll show you who’s a fucking animal!”

The man staggers forward, knocking into the people around him, and out of nowhere someone punches him in the face.

Oh no!

For a moment he’s dazed, but when he finally manages to regain his senses he throws a wild punch and the crowd resumes its frenzied fight.

I turn back to the window and cover my face, about to cry.

“Where do you live?” the disembodied voice in the SUV says. His tone is unexpectedly sympathetic.

What? Why is he asking me this? Why would he care where I live?

I gaze up through my tears at the window.

Should I tell him?

The thought seems crazy. He’s a complete stranger. I mean, I haven’t even seen his face.

I feel the crowd pushing at my back, and in one swift surge of motion, they shove me up against the window.

“Ow! You’re hurting me!” I cry. I try to turn around so I can say it to their faces, but the pressure is too much.

I turn and see two dazzling grey eyes staring back at me through the crack. The expression is fierce and intense, but for some reason I trust them.

“First Street,” I whimper. “I live near First Street.”

His eyes bore into mine as the crowd locks me in place.

Behind me, people begin to scream and shove each other.

The steel grey eyes look past me into the crowd and the next thing I know a folded hundred dollar bill appears next to my face.

I stare at the money, confused.

“It’s for your rent. To get by.”

What the?

I hesitate to take it.

“Take it or leave it.”

I reach forward to take it, and as I clasp the crisp paper, my finger brushes against his smooth, warm skin.

I look up into his eyes and this time they’re black. His brow furrows.

My breath hitches, and something tugs deep down in the pit of my stomach.

Behind me, a shrill woman shouts, “You got any toilet paper in there?”

The crowd moves forward, pressing me harder from behind and forcing my arm through the window.

“Son of a bitch!” the musical voice hisses from inside the cabin.

The crowd keeps pressing, and I scream out in pain.

Another voice from behind me calls out, “Hey rich boy! You gonna come bail us out!?”

The laughter is insane.

Hot breath brushes the back of my neck, giving me flashbacks of Karen standing behind me.

I look into his fierce eyes and for a moment I read an expression that looks like pity or fear, but I’m not sure which.

A gunshot rings out, and the glass on the rear driver’s side explodes into the cabin.

I scream in terror.

“Fuck!” the man says.

I can see people on the other side of the cabin leaning into the SUV.

“Ohh! It’s nice in here!” a haggard woman says, peering inside.

“Get back, you!” the man shouts.

I wish I could help him, but I’m stuck.

He leans forward and screams at the driver.

“Damnit, Calloway! They’re breathing into the cabin!”

“You hear that?” someone behind me says. “Richie Rich doesn’t want us breathing his fancy-pants air!”

“All right then,” an older man with an ugly voice screams. “Let’s give it to him! Charge!”

The crowd rushes forward, smashing me against the window.

I try to escape, but I’m locked in place.

All around me, ugly voices are screaming ugly things in ugly ways.

I suddenly feel like my spine is being crushed from behind.

“Help!” I yelp. “Somebody help me!”

“Fuck it, it’s too late now,” he says, his beautiful voice breaking through the garbled roar of the crowd.

The tinted window zips down and a pair of large hands cup my waist.

“What are you doing?” I say, startled by his strength.

“Watch your head,” he whispers against my ear, dizzying my senses.

The world around me spins, and for a moment everything is a blur. The next thing I know, I’m laying on my back looking up at the ceiling. All around me voices are growing in number, and I instinctively curl into the fetal position, nuzzling my face into his chest and inhaling his clean scent as his strong protective arms pull me closer to him.

Despite all the commotion around me, for the first time in forever, I feel safe.

The vehicle begins to rock back and forth from the thrashings of the human horde.

“Damnit, Calloway. They’re trying to tip us!”

“Can I run them over, sir?”

“I believe that would be unwise,” the man replies with a hint of humor.

The driver rubs his hand back and forth over his buzz cut. “Right, sorry.”

A loud noise startles me, and my hands shoot up to protect my face, smearing mud across the front of his suit.

Oh no!

I look up to apologize, and for the first time I see his face.

Oh my freaking God!

Chapter Two

Dark Knight

His face is perfect.

The symmetry is flawless. The bone structure is divine. His cheek bones are so strong and pronounced, it wouldn’t surprise me if he once was, or still is, a runway model. A thick shock of hair hangs over his right eye in a way that’s pleasantly distracting. If I were to guess his age I’d say he couldn’t be any older than 25, although his expression and mannerisms are more like those of a man twice his age.

His grey eyes narrow at me, and my heart leaps in response.

I try to look away, but my eyes are locked on his.

His pupils dilate, eclipsing the grey, and all at once I feel lightheaded.

Holy crap. What’s happening to me? I feel like I might faint.

His face softens, his eyes blinking gently, and I can’t help but notice his lashes are long for a man’s.

I should really look away, but for some reason I can’t. It’s as though I’m tethered to his gaze by some mysterious force.

In one smooth motion he turns towards the driver.

“Step on it. But don’t hurt them.”

The vehicle lurches forward, and outside the window, the crowd rushes by in a blur.

For the first time I notice beautiful classical music playing from the car’s speakers, a refreshing contrast to the the howling wind and chaotic street noise.

“Mahler,” I whisper.

It comes out unintentionally, and I’m suddenly overcome with embarrassment.

He turns back to me and eyes me with a look of surprise. “You know the composer?”

My heart skips a beat as I stare into his eyes. I want to say yes, but all I can do is nod.

He scowls and turns to the driver. “Turn off the music. It’s mixing with the street noise and giving me a headache.”

The driver nods. “Yes, sir.”

What the? Why why would he do that? Is he mad at me or something?

The music stops, and all that’s left is the howling wind as the world flies by outside the window.

He lifts me up off his lap and places me in a nearby seat. “Can you buckle yourself in?”

My mouth opens to respond, but he’s already reaching across my lap. “Very well,” he says, taking control as he begins to buckle me in. His arms feel good pressed against me, warm and reassuring, and I like the smell of his hair, but something about the aggressiveness of his gesture puts me off.

“I can do it,” I say, but he ignores me.

I bite my lip, unsure of what to do, and look down at his hands. The first thing I notice are his platinum cuff links. The design is simple, but the pieces look intricately crafted and expensive. My eyes wander to his long, tapered fingers as he buckles me in and smoothes the belt up over my chest, careful to remain decent.

Once finished, he sits back in his seat, and I’m finally able to take in the rest of him.

His body is long, lean, and muscular, and his proportions are refined. Besides the mess I’ve made of his suit, everything about his attire is crisp and clean. He’s wearing a well-fitted dark navy suit and slacks, a starched white undershirt, and an intricately patterned silver tie. The outfit looks expensive and custom tailored.

I look down at the used shirt I picked up the other day at the thrift store for a dollar fifty-five, and notice that mud is dripping down through my legs onto the soft leather car seat. I fidget nervously at the sight, and the puddle under me makes a squishy sound.

His eyes dart in my direction.

I lean back a little, revealing the puddle. “Sorry, I’m all wet.”

He purses his lips. “Don’t tell me that’s piss.”

What!? My face flushes with embarrassment. “No! It’s not, it’s just… I’m so sorry,” I mutter, trying to contain the drips.

He sighs and leans forward, flipping open the center console.

I flinch.

He stops and looks at me. “Calm down.”

I nod and exhale, trying to relax.

He pushes a black button and a crystal champagne set raises up from inside the console.

Scowling, he grabs a black silk champagne towel, unfurls it with a flourish, and hands it to me.

“Here.”

When I grab it, his fingers graze mine, and something electric passes between us.

Whoa.

That was crazy. Did he feel it, too?

He leans back in his seat and clears his throat, clearly affected.

He did!

A smile tugs at my lips.

He narrows his eyes at me. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” I say, flattening my expression as I dab up my mess. “Ahem…so, where are we going?”

“To your apartment.”

What? A pang of fear courses through me. “How do you know where I live?”

He gives me a strange look. “You told me back in the street. You don’t remember?”

I think back, replaying the awful sequence of events.

“Oh yeah.” I say, shaking my head. “How could I have forgotten? I must have hit my head.”

“Your head is fine. I saw everything.”

He saw the everything?

You’ve got to be kidding me. Face in the mud and ass in the air is not my idea of a great first impression. I can only imagine what he must think of me.

I lower my head in shame, and my hair falls down around my face. When I peek back up through the strands, I see that he’s turned away from me, staring out the window. He looks poised, legs finely crossed, fingers clasped—cool, aloof.

For a moment I wonder if I’m dreaming. There’s no way this could be real. He looks like a movie star or a model in a fashion magazine. What am I doing here with him?

He turns to look at me, and I quickly look away.

Crap. Don’t look again.

But I do, and this time he’s looking at me like he’s in pain.

I look away again.

I should really stop staring at him. This is something Stacy would do. Not me. What’s wrong with me?

A moment later, I can’t help myself and I look up yet again.

Shit. He’s still staring at me.

Okay. At least I’m not the only one staring.

His eyes crinkle in the corners, like he’s laughing at me, his fine mouth twisting into a ghost of a smile.

I look away again.

Crap. He thinks I’m an idiot. What should I do? Should I say something? This is so awkward.

When I peek at him again, I notice he’s clenching his slacks up near his knee. He looks angry. What if he blames me for what happened with the crowd? Maybe I should apologize?

“I’m sorry about what happened,” I say. “I didn’t know—“

He holds up his hand, silencing me.

I turn back and catch my reflection in the window.

Limp, soggy hair.

Mud-flecked face…

Could I look more pathetic?

Hot tears begin to form behind my eyes.

He makes a sudden movement, drawing my attention, and I notice a thin line of blood trailing down along his wrist.

I gasp. “You’re bleeding.”

He stops, turns his hand over. “Shit.”

I lean forward. “Here, let me—“

He pulls away. “I’ve got it.”

I look around for something to stop the bleeding.

He holds up the bottom of his suit coat and sighs through his nose, his mouth twisted with frustration.

I unbuckle my seatbelt.

“What are you doing?”

“Here,” I say, unbuttoning my baby blue cardigan.

“No,” he says, eyes closed, shaking his head. A small smile plays on his lips.

I stop. His smile does something to me I can’t explain, and I have the sudden inexplicable urge to kiss the corner of his mouth. What!? Where did that thought come from?

He smirks at me, like he knows what I’m thinking.

“You really need to calm down,” he says. “Get back in your seat and buckle up.”

I do as he says.

“It must have been from the window,” he says, referring to his bloody wrist. His voice is flat. “I was trying to minimize contact until you showed up.”

Crap. For a moment I almost forgot about the Coronavirus.

Guilt grips me.

What if he has a precondition?

What if he has a family?

“I’m so sorry.”

“You should be.” His expression is serious. “You summoned them to me.”

What?!

“I did not!”

“Did you declare yourself their leader, or were you elected?” he says, his lips suddenly curled with amusement.

I shake my head, confused. “I had absolutely nothing at all to do with them!”

He smiles. “Then why were they all so glad to see you?”

Ah, I get it. He must be joking.

I smile inwardly and decide to play along. “The truth is they were charmed by your carriage.”

His face brightens at my recognition, and he lets out a long sigh. “Forgive me. I didn’t mean what I just said.” He strokes the bottom of his lip with his index finger. “It’s obviously not your fault. It’s the fault of those in charge who allowed the panic to spread.”

I look down at my hands, unsure of what to say.

“Besides,” he says. His voice is suddenly wry with mock-humor. “There are so many ways to die. Coronavirus is just one of them. Something’s bound to get you sooner or later.”

I peek up at him through my lashes. Why does he look sad?

I want to tell him it will be alright, but the thought sounds stupid in my head.

He sighs and shrugs off his jacket to use for his hand.

I sit up.

“Y-y-you can use my sweater,” I say, stuttering for some reason as I gape wide-eyed at the jacket that I’m positive is worth more than my entire wardrobe combined.

“It’s quite alright,” he says, ignoring me.

“No,” I say, gaining his attention. “That jacket’s too thick.”

He stops and examines the jacket, turning it over in his hands.

“Seriously, it’s no big deal,” I say. “It’s the least I could do.”

“It won’t be needed,” he says, tossing the jacket into a heap on the floor.

I shake my head, confused. “Then what will you use?”

His eyes lock on mine as he loosens his patterned silk tie.

Holy hell. He’s getting undressed!

He tosses the tie onto the floor and begins unbuttoning his dress shirt.

My breath hitches as I struggle to avert my gaze.

He shrugs off the shirt, and I barely contain a gasp as his chiseled abs flex under the soft interior dome lighting. The entire time, his eyes never leave mine.

Something tugs at the base of my stomach as I shift in my seat.

He bites down on the dress shirt fabric and tears it into a long thin strip. How does he make it look so easy?

“I can help,” I say, leaning towards him, entranced.

“I’ll manage just fine,” he says through gritted teeth as he finishes two more strips.

He takes three strips and wraps them around his wrist. When he’s finished he holds up his wrist, examining his handiwork. “What do you think?”

I’m so overwhelmed all I can do is nod.

“Good enough,” he says like he’s glad to be done with it.

I spot the tie at his feet and a thought occurs to me.

“You could have just used your tie.”

“Too late,” he says without hesitation.

He reaches down, grabs the tie, then lays it next to him on the seat.

I look away. For some reason I can’t stop smiling. What’s going on with me?

He signals the driver. “I’ll need a new dress shirt before my speech.”

The driver nods. “Ten four.”

He settles back into his seat and begins fingering the shirt-strip bandage.

I clear my throat. “What kind of speech are you giving?”

His brow furrows. “You don’t have to talk like that.”

My brow pinches. “Like what?”

“Like this is an interview.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“You’re up-ending your sentences in an effort to please me.”

I look away, unsure of how to respond.

“I’m sorry. I’m under a lot of pressure right now.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay,” he says, his tone serious.

“Okay.”

His brow arches, assessing me. “I’m Elon, by the way. Elon Carlisle.”

Elon Carlisle.

I roll it around in my mind, savoring the sound of it. The name suits him surprisingly well.

“What’s your name?” he says.

“Nana.”

Crap! What’s wrong with me!? …Nana?!

“Nana?” His brow knits in confusion. “As in, my nana’s just died from Coronavirus?”

“N-no. It’s Ana. Just Ana.”

“Ana?”

I nod. “Ana.”

He leans back, hands behind his head, and repeats my name. “Ana.”

I love the way my name plays on his lips.

His eyes dart back down at me. “You’re sure?” His face lights up with humor, and somehow it’s even more beautiful than before.

I blush and nod into my chest.

“So…Ana. What do you think of all this?”

My eyes once again take in the luxurious surroundings. “The car?”

He makes a face. “No…the virus.”

Duh. What’s wrong with you, Ana? Get it together.

I search for the right word, but all that comes to mind is, “It’s terrible.”

“Indeed,” he says, biting the back of his knuckle.

An awkward moment passes between us, and the tension gets the better of me. “I noticed none of the employees at Wholesome Foods were wearing masks.”

“Yes, I’ve read all about that. Most businesses seem to think it will scare the customers.”

“That’s so stupid,” I say, a little too loud.

He looks up at me and tilts his head.

I shake my head with frustration. “I mean, if we’re going to flatten the curve, we can’t be doing stupid stuff like that. It’s not up to businesses to choose who lives and dies.”

He stops biting his knuckle and stares at me thoughtfully. Why is he looking at me like that?

“I was just on my way to give a speech along the same lines,” he says calmly.

“Oh,” I say. “What for?”

“It’s for a charity banquet. Very tedious.”

“So, what are you? Some kind of politician or something?“

“I’m a CEO. I own fifteen companies on three separate continents, and I employ over five million people.”

Holy crap.

“Wow, very important,” I say, trying to sound unimpressed.

“Indeed.”

Cocky much?

The air in the car suddenly seems too heavy, so I try to lighten the mood. “Well at least the workers of the world will finally get a vacation.”

He eyes me tactfully.

“If you consider the most devastating economic collapse since World War II a vacation, then yes, they will most certainly get their vacation.” So much for lightening the mood. I look down at my lap as he continues. “I believe there is dignity and honor in work, regardless of what one contributes. This pandemic is nothing short of a disaster for everyone involved, including the workers of the world.”

I snort. “Easy for you to say.”

He glares at me.

“Why is that?”

“Because you’re the one getting the lion’s share.”

He scoffs.

“What?” I say. “It’s the truth”

“Somewhat,” he says, leaning forward. “To be more exact, I control the lion’s share. Most of my value is tied up in my companies. If I didn't own at least fifty percent of each company I would cease to be the one in control.”

“So why not give it up?”

“Because without my control they would fail.”

“Says who?”

“Says me.”

His eyes bore into mine and I look away, a little frightened by his intensity.

“So, you’re doing it for charity?”

He laughs. “I wouldn’t say that exactly.”

“But that’s what you just said. You said the companies would fail without you. But still, you could sell them off anytime, so why don’t you? Sounds like charity to me.”

He thinks it over. “Because it’s not rational to allow that many people to suffer when I have the power to stop it from happening.”

I can’t help but smile.

“What? What is it?”

“Nothing.”

He leans forward. “Tell me.”

I roll my eyes. “I don’t think you’re being rational.”

“Then what am I being?”

“Emotional.”

He shakes his head.

“I never make decisions based on emotion. I prefer to be able to anticipate every outcome.”

“As if that’s even possible.”

“Maybe not,” he says. “Still, I believe caution and prevention are the foundations of rational judgement.”

“Who did you steal that line from? Dale Carnegie?”

His eyes soften with humor. “You know more than you let on.”

I fold my arms. “Yeah, and you care more than you let on.”

He shakes his head and looks down. “I gave up caring a long time ago.”

I stop and stare at him. His response is more personal than I expected.

“What about you?” he says.

“Me?”

“Yes. Tell me about yourself.”

Crap. What the heck am I supposed to say?

“Um…I don’t know. Let me think.”

“Think away.”

“Well, for starters, I lost my job today.” Heat spreads across my face as I recall my outburst in front of the crowd. “But I guess I already told you that earlier.”

I search his face for signs that he’s about to mock me for the embarrassing scene I made, but I find none. Only mild curiosity lingers in his eyes.

“Where did you work?” he says cooly.

“Karen’s Krafts, down on Main Street.”

“I think I’ve seen it.”

“They put me on indefinite leave.” I make air quotes around ‘indefinite leave’.

He nods his head. “They must be struggling.”

“They are.”

“So, what did you do there?”

Why does he want to know all this? There’s no way it’s boring him less than it’s boring me.

“Hmm…” I say, trying to think of something interesting. “I mostly just stood behind the front desk waiting for customers to pay.” I shrug. “Sometimes I’d help stock the shelves.”

Ugh. It sounds so lame now that I’ve said it out loud.

“That’s it?” He says, narrowing his eyes at me.

“Um… sort of. I mean, I was a cashier.” I sift through my memory for something else to say. “But sometimes I would clean the toilets, too.”

His lips curl into an amused smile. “That sounds very…interesting.”

Crap. He definitely thinks I’m an idiot. Why did I say that? I blush and lower my head. “It was a job, I guess.”

“Well, from what you just told me I wouldn’t be too upset about losing it.”

My face flushes with anger. “It may not sound like much to you, but it was all I had.”

He gives me a surprised look. “I didn’t mean it like that, I just meant I think you can do better.” He pauses to rub his index finger across his lower lip. “I’m sorry. I know how hard it is out there right now.”

“How do you know?”

“That it’s hard?”

“That I can do better.”

He shrugs. “It was just a guess.”

“Based on what?”

“What I’ve seen so far.”

“I thought this wasn’t an interview.”

“It’s not.” His voice is hard.

I cross my legs and fold my arms over my chest. “Whatever.”

I don’t know why I’m acting like this, but something about this man has gotten under my skin.

“We’ll be nearing your place soon, Ana,” he says. There’s an edge to his voice again. “What��s the building?”

“Broadway Building, Elon,” I say, echoing his tone. “But you can drop me off here if you’re eager to get rid of me.”

His brow turns into a hard V and I’m tempted to poke my tongue out at him. What’s gotten into me?

The landscape around us darkens. “This is a bad part of town,” he says flatly.

I nod against the window. “I always know I’m getting close to home because I begin to feel anxious.”

“I know the owner-slash-landlord,” he says. “Or, I suppose the more proper term would be slum lord.”

I laugh despite myself.

“Totally.”

“Totally?”

I roll my eyes. “Whatever.”

His face lights up a little as his eyes narrow in thought. “For some reason all I can remember of him was his ass crack.”

I burst out laughing so hard I almost pee my pants.

He smiles at me.

“I can’t believe you just said that,” I choke out. “My roommate and I christened him Lord Buttcrack once we learned he was a piece of shit.”

He laughs out loud for the first time, and the melodious sound fills my chest.

The driver looks back at us and smiles.

When our laughter finally dies down, I look up and catch him staring at me with a far off look.

I look myself over and check my face in the glass. “What’s the matter? Is there something on my face?”

“No, it’s just…” he says, considering whether or not to continue.

“What?” I say, anxious for his answer.

“You remind me so much of someone I once knew.”

Oh really?

“Who?”

He turns away from me, suddenly serious.

“Never mind. Forget I said it.”

The mood in the car darkens.

“Will you be fine if I drop you off here?” he says. The edge in his voice has returned.

I look around. I usually avoid walking in this part of town if I can. I glance back at Elon but he’s still turned away, as if I’m already gone.

“Here’s fine.”

He commands the driver to stop.

“You’re sure?” the driver says, looking back at us.

Elon nods, his face twisted in what I can only assume is disgust.

I open the door and right as I’m about to step out, a beer bottle crashes against the nearby pavement.

What the?!

I slink back into the car as a middle-aged drunk woman takes a swing at a scruffy-looking old man.

“You motherfucker!” The woman roars. “How you gonna pay the rent! How we gonna eat!”

Elon reaches across me and slams the door shut.

“Drive!”

The SUV lurches forward.

I peer over and see him pinching his brow with his fingers. “That was a close one,” I say, forcing a lightness into my tone.

“Too close,” he whispers, not looking up.

A distance seems to have formed between us that I don’t understand.

I sift through my mind for something to say.

“I’m really sorry for everything. The mob, your clothes…exposing you to the virus. It’s all my fault.”

“As I said before, it’s not your fault. People are stupid, dangerous, panicky animals.”

I stare at him, taken back by his harsh judgement.

The vehicle comes to a stop in front of my apartment and I notice a homeless man is trying to defecate on the sidewalk.

“Gross,” I whisper, turning away.

“How long have you lived here?” He says, his face contorted in disgust.

Something comes over me, a medley of shame and anger, and all at once I have the overwhelming urge to leave the vehicle.

I try to open the door, but it’s locked.

He shakes his head at the driver, and grabs my elbow to stop me. His hand feels good against my skin, but my emotions take hold and I shrug it off.

He sighs and leans back in his seat. “You’re sure you want to go?”

What’s he getting at? A minute ago he was asking me to leave.

“I’m sure. Now can you please unlock this door?”

Once again, he shakes his head at the driver.

What’s he doing?

He pulls out a platinum business card holder, flips it open, removes a card, then flips it back shut. He offers the card to me. “In case you need me for anything.”

I shake my head. “You’ve already helped more than enough. Thank you for the ride and the money… I really mean it, thank you.”

He narrows his eyes.

The driver opens my door, taking me by surprise. “Ma’am.”

I look up and thank him, then clamber out of the car with as much grace as I can scrap together.

“Oh! I almost forgot my p—“

I spin around and see my purse dangling from Elon’s outstretched hand.

“Thanks,” I say, shifting the strap onto my shoulder.

“You’re welcome.”

Something like a grin tugs at the corner of his mouth.

What’s that all about?

Before I can say anything, the driver gently shuts the door. “Would you like me to escort you to your door?” His face is serious, but genial.

“No. But thank you, um… I seem to have forgotten your name.”

“Calloway, ma’am.”

“Oh yes. Now I remember. Thank you, Calloway.”

“No problem-o.”

I turn on my heel and hop over the pile of excrement the homeless man left on the sidewalk.

“Watch your step!” Calloway says, laughing a little. “I’d kick it out of your way, but it’s still fresh.”

“I’m fine,” I say as I hop up the steps to the front door of my building, totally grossed out.

Good God. How humiliating.

As I’m about to put my key in the slot, I hear Elon’s voice behind me.

“Ana!” I turn around and see his beautiful face framed in the window. “Be safe,” he says.

“You too.” I take a breath. “…Elon.”

The moment lingers as we stare into each other’s eyes, and I can swear something passes between us again. I can’t explain why, but I feel an inexplicable urge to run back to the car. Does he feel it, too?

He turns his head forward as the tint seals shut.

And then, just like that, the car pulls away.

A Final Note from the Author

Thank you so much for taking the time to read my story! I hope you’ve enjoyed it so far! If you would like to read the rest of Part 1 through to Chapter 14, the story is currently available on Amazon under the title ‘Fifty Shades of Corona’ by N.O. Shame. However, if you are willing to wait, I’ll be posting a new chapter every week!

Much Love,

N.O. Shame

1 note · View note

elshopper · 5 years ago

Text

Cure for a Blue Christmas

Wow, y’all, it is a Christmas miracle. For I have written something. I hope you enjoy.

WC: 2.9k

Ao3 link coming soon.

December 25, 1986 Somewhere North of Bloomington, Indiana

“By the way, I loved the way you told dad to shove it,” Nancy said, glancing over to her brother in the passenger seat.

Mike was right in the middle of fiddling with the radio dial now that Hawkins Best Hits was out of range. Every station was either annoying Christmas music or old standards or weird nighttime talk shows. He sighed.

“Yeah, I’m going to get a lot of shit for that one when we get home,” he said, finally settling on whatever station that was currently playing that one Christmas song about the kids in Africa that he decided he could tolerate.

“He was asking for it,” Nancy replied, both her hands steady on the wheel. “He was just being an asshole for the sake of being an asshole.”

It had been a rather frustrating Christmas in the Wheeler household. Their mother had been tapped to host the whole family this year, and she was at her wits end this morning - pulling endless breakfast casseroles out of the oven only to be immediately devoured and criticized by extended family members.

Mike had to share his room with his cousins, Richie and Timothy, who were too annoying to bunk in the basement with the older cousins. Nancy got a room to herself, and Mike had carefully maneuver around the bodies sleeping on his floor if he wanted to get to the bathroom.

Holly was being particularly bratty, too. Mike’s grandmother was being especially critical of his mom, following her around the house and making comments about the table setting this and the Christmas ham that. His dad was flipping through classical holiday films (ironically about the value of family and unconditional love) while making exactly zero contributions from his recliner in the den.

To top it all off, due to the Wheeler family Christmas nightmare occurring under their roof, Mike and Nancy had to back out of their promises to drive down to Allendale to visit the Byers on Christmas Day because “we have to entertain the family, Michael,” which was just stupid and hypocritical of him to even say on account of the fact that Mr. Wheeler had been doing zilch the entire shitty three days.

When the family finally left that afternoon, Mike and Nancy made a point to help their mother start up loads of laundry and clean up in the kitchen before asking very very nicely if they could make the trip anyway.

“The family’s gone now, and we could give you some time to just relax…” Nancy pitched, her fingers drumming on their kitchen island. “I promise we’ll be back tomorrow morning. First thing.”

Mrs. Wheeler squinted her eyes and hummed to herself, saying something about being careful driving in the dark before she shouted into the den for Mr. Wheeler’s approval.

“No, Karen, tell the kids they can stay right here,” he yelled back. “Need to have a little family time.”

Nancy, who had been doing most of the negotiating with their mother, rolled her eyes, but something about his dad’s whole schtick of being a lazy ass-wipe made something that had been building and building in Mike finally snap.

“Family time? You’re shitting me, family time?!” Mike raised his voice a little and headed into the den.

“Language, Michael...”

“All you’ve done is sit on your ass while we’ve been absolutely drowning in family time for three whole days!”

His dad’s eyes finally - for the first time in probably days - moved over from the TV to look at his kids standing defiantly in the doorframe. Mike went on.

“So if you don’t mind, Nancy and I are going to go for the night to go see our friends - who we never get to spend any time with, by the way!”

He crossed the room for the coat rack by the door and threw his coat on. To his surprise, Nancy followed and grabbed the keys off the hook by the door.

“Michael, if you walk out that door, you’re grounded,” Ted retorted. “Same goes for you Nancy.”

“Great! I’m fine with that! Maybe then we’ll get that family time I’ve been hearing so much about!”

They were they had already thrown some overnight bags in the car, because with one slam of the front door for emphasis, Mike was finally on the way to see his girlfriend.

They decided to make their arrival a surprise, and the excitement of that prospect was slowly beginning to overshadow the seething anger towards his dad.

“I know Jonathan said he and Will were going to be at Lonnie’s today,” Nancy started, “but they’re coming back tonight. Maybe we’ll beat them home.”

“Yeah maybe,” Mike said. “I know El said she’s just staying in with Mrs. Byers. She sounded kind of bummed about it, though.”

“Well, maybe this will cheer everyone up,” Nancy said, before turning up the volume on the radio.

Allendale, Illinois

Now get this, it’s from London. “Mr. Gower cabled you need cash. Stop. My office instructed to advance you up to $25,000. Stop. Hee-haw and Merry Christmas. Sam Wainwright.”

El closed the door to the oven, and sauntered back over to the couch. Joyce was sitting in one corner, legs drawn up under a throw blanket, while she worked on sewing a button back on one of Jonathan’s old shirts so Will could wear it.

“Okay the cookies are in,” El said, but Joyce’s eyes stayed fixated on the television. They had been watching It’s a Wonderful Life on channel 5, and it was one of Joyce’s favorite holiday films. Despite the majority of the movie being… sort of depressing, El was glad she was here to spend time with Joyce who would otherwise be alone on the holiday.

They had spent the afternoon just like this - cleaning up around the house, finishing up mundane chores, and baking here and there. Even though she was fairly new at it, El actually wasn’t half bad at following the recipes in Joyce’s family cookbook. Often, she was learning, numbers made more sense to her than words.

Jonathan and Will had driven up to Indiana after opening morning presents to spend some “quality time” with their father and stepmother. Joyce had insisted (albeit, reluctantly) once she discovered they hadn’t gone to see them in over a year. El had never met him, but he didn’t sound all that pleasant when Will brought him up on occasion... kind of like he was inconvenienced by the fact that he had kids in the first place.

Kind of like a grade-A asshole, as Dustin would proudly put it.

She hadn’t even seen an old picture of him and Joyce anywhere in the old photo albums. She knew they had been married, but were now divorced, so it was just Joyce now. Taking care of her sons, and now the daughter that she never meant to have.

Last Christmas had been great - wonderful even - because it was her first time back in Hawkins since the big move a couple months prior. Despite absolutely dreading the cold, El loved the holiday season now that she got to be a part of it - all Mrs. Wheeler’s pies and nicely wrapped gifts and the smell of pine trees and mistletoe...

This year, the Byers clan had stayed behind. Mrs. Wheeler had to host the family for Christmas, and that apparently meant that Mike couldn’t even come visit - not even for a few hours.

He had sounded so bummed about it over the phone, but promised to send her present in the mail once the holiday rush ended. He even called her this morning to wish her a Merry Christmas, and tell her that the holiday didn’t feel right without her being home. It was nice of him, but it just made her feel more gloomy about the whole thing. It was a joyful time of year for most, but El couldn’t be with all of her favorite people.

On the TV, the Bailey household erupted in a spirited rendition of Hark! The Herald Angels Sing as all the townspeople showed up to give George their donations and Joyce’s eyes were getting a little misty.

Joyful all ye nations rise! Join the triumph of the skies!

“This part always makes me cry, every single time!” Joyce said, using the fabric of Jonathan’s shirt to dab at her eyes. “Oh, look at me.”

Hark! The herald angels sing…

“I like this movie too,” El said, reaching for a hand full of popcorn from the bowl on the coffee table. “It’s sweet.”

“You’ve seen this movie before?”

“Yes…” El started. “Two Christmases ago I think. But I didn’t really understand it then. Now it all makes more sense.”

She didn’t want to touch on a sore subject if Joyce didn’t want to talk about it - especially this time of year, so she didn’t go into detail about how Hopper had turned it on one snowy evening in December 1984 and cracked a beer open before telling her to pay attention because this was one of the greatest films of all time. She could practically hear him…

“...Now I used to sit on the couch with my old man and watch this movie every single Christmas.” Hopper said, “It’s about being thankful for what you’ve got and that you’re never alone in the world if you’re a good person… you know… cheesy stuff like that...”

It was in black and white and she didn’t know what all the yelling was about, but El liked it because Hopper seemed to. She thought George’s life was interesting and she thought his wife Mary was really pretty. She asked Hopper to find her a dress just like Mary’s to wear to the big dance she was invited to the following week and he had said “Jesus, kid, I don’t think they make ‘em like that anymore…”

A small smile crept across El’s face.

Good idea Ernie, a toast! To my big brother George. The richest man in town.

“Did Hop turn it on for you before he would go to the station?” Joyce asked.

“No, actually he sat down to watch with me.” El said, “He didn’t do a great job of explaining anything, but he wanted me to see it for some reason.”

“Well, everyone should see It’s a Wonderful Life. It’s one of the greatest films of all time!”

The crowd on the screen erupted in another joyful tune and Joyce started humming along.

Should auld acquaintance be forgot and never brought to mind?

Should auld acquaintance be forgot and days of auld lang syne?

Then a note from Clarence the angel appeared on the screen, and it was El’s turn to feel tears pinch the back of her eyes.

“Remember, no man is a failure who has friends!” the note read in beautiful swooping cursive.

El had been trying to keep a smile on her face all day for Joyce, but she missed her friends so much she thought she might burst.

She and Will called them on the phone as often as they could, but of course it wasn’t the same. They knew they were missing the making of memories, and as hard as it was, El couldn’t help but feel jealous that everyone in Hawkins all still had each other.

She and Will would talk with Lucas who would tell them some outlandish stories about something Max got up to or Steve said or Mike did in school. Then, they would give Dustin a call for the real story. Max would complain to her about being ‘surrounded by idiots’ and fill her in on the most recent fight Mike picked with Lucas over something stupid and El would call him after just to check on him. Out of everyone, Mike probably took it the hardest with his best friend and his girlfriend both leaving town all at once.

She was glad she had Will sulk and feign happiness with sometimes. She could tell he felt the same as she did, that they were kind of incomplete without everyone. Jonathan was busy with work and college courses, and was planning to transfer to be closer to Nancy next year now that he’d saved up enough, so the reality of the move hadn’t hit him as hard because he had just a little more freedom.

“When you go through all that, I think the people you’re with end up being your family, like it or not,” Will said to her once. “I don’t feel like I can let anyone else in. It’s just us, you know? And most of our family is about a four hour drive away.”

To make matters worse, when Mike and Nancy cancelled, El’s teeny ounce of excitement about the holidays vanished.

It was just… lonely. And El knew Joyce was pretty lonely too. Joyce’s parents were originally from Allendale, but her extended family had all moved or passed away before El was ever around. She just moved her children back somewhere familiar where she was fairly sure there weren’t any secret government conspiracies at work beneath the surface. Since El hadn’t had the use of her powers in over a year, there wasn’t a lot to hide except for the past.

“I love this song,” Joyce said, humming along with the melody and snapping El back to the present.

For auld lang syne, my dear

For auld lang syne

The words sounded like absolute gibberish to El.

“What does ‘old hang sign’ mean anyway?” El asked.

“Auld Lang Syne,” Joyce replied. “It’s in another language - Scottish, maybe? I’m not sure exactly what it means, but you sing it on New Years Eve.”

“Why on New Years Eve?”

“Because it's a time to reflect on the past and look forward to the future… I guess it means that you’re thankful for everything you have and the people in your life and the experiences you’ve had so far, but you’re looking to the future for better things.”

El nodded.

“Kind of hard to look back and be thankful,” El muttered.

Look daddy. Teacher says, ‘Every time a bell rings, an angel gets his wings.’

She felt Joyce turn on the couch to face her.

“Oh, honey, I’m thankful! If I didn’t have you, I’d be spending Christmas Eve alone,” she said as she wrapped one arm around El’s shoulders. “And the world would be a much sadder place.”

“Thanks,” El said, fiddling with the hem on her sweatshirt. “It’s hard though.”

“You’re right, but you have to try your hardest to see the good in life…”

Atta boy, Clarence!

Just then, the oven dinged that the cookies were ready, and El hopped up to grab them. She was setting the cookie sheet on the stove when she saw a pair of headlights pulling into the driveway.

“Looks like Jonathan and Will are home,” El said, pulling out the cooling sheet.

“Oh, good. Just in time for the next film.”

But just as El was putting the last of the cookies on the cooling sheet, she heard a frantic little knock at the door followed by a couple of dings on their doorbell. Startled, she almost dropped her spatula.

“Why on earth are they making all that noise?” Joyce asked as she stood up to turn down the ending credits and answer the door. “Surely Jonathan and Will don’t need any help carrying gifts to the house after an evening at Lonnie’s…”

When she opened the door, instead of hearing Jonathan or Will’s voice, she heard Mike’s.

“Mrs. Byers! Merry Christmas!”

“Mike! And Nancy! I thought you couldn’t make it!”

“We came anyway,” Nancy said from behind him. “Didn’t want to let the holiday pass without coming to see you.”

“Oh, I hope you didn’t upset your mother too much...”

El dropped the spatula - on purpose this time - and was over at the door in a matter of seconds. If there was any cure for a blue Christmas, it was the look on Mike’s beaming face when she rounded the corner, still wearing Joyce’s favorite holiday apron.

“I can’t believe you made it!”

El caught the bright smile on Nancy’s face as Mike met her with open arms.

“Merry Christmas, El,” Mike said, pulling back to hold her face in his hands. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

Just as Joyce was about to move everyone indoors and out of the cold, Jonathan’s old station wagon pulled up, making their arrival some of the most perfect timing El had seen in a while.

“Nance? What are you doing here?”

The bags were brought in and the cookies were set on the coffee table. Will was congratulating Mike on standing up to his dad, Nancy was talking with Joyce about winters in New York, and El was all snuggled up on Mike’s right side, her cheek against his shoulder and everything seemed right with the world - at least for the moment.

Even through hard times and sad days, El was so happy she had lived through them. Without them, she couldn’t have moments like these where everything felt perfect. She knew everyone in the room would agree - the smiles and laughs and shining eyes were enough for her to feel completely and simply surrounded by such a warm, fuzzy feeling.

El lifted her head to place a kiss on Mike’s shoulder and he turned to look down at her, eyes all glassy and warm.

“What was that for?”

“Just because,” she said.

I’ll love you ‘til the day I die, she thought.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to you and yours!! Can y’all tell which movie I’ve been watching all week... I hope it doesn’t sound like the ramblings of a Christmas lunatic :) Love y’all, miss y’all everyday <3

Tagging some lovelies: @milesfairchild, @mikewheeler, @milevenhearteyes, @serendipitousrambles, @fatechica, @summer-in-hawkins, @milevens, @stevehharrington, @elhoppers, @dustinhendrsn, @lyrawills, @partwayhappy and @robinbuckely

#stranger things #stranger things fic #mileven #mileven fic #writing things #brandnewbabysantas #merry christmas to all!!!

14 notes · View notes

shermandelux-blog · 4 years ago

Text

HOW TO NEVER EVER OFFEND ANYONE ONLINE...EVER!!!

***spoiler alert....it's not possible!! so HERE's what to do when the internet TURNS ON YOU!

So I'm walking out the front door of the brewery the other day and there at the bar was great friend and fellow brewery owner from down the block Damon Moreau of Common Crown Brewery. "How's it going buddy?" I blurt out, happy as always to see fellow brewers in our taproom. The somewhat fatigued look on his face said everything but yet he replied "Well our new beer just launched and social media is EXPLODING right now!!" Well, that's GREAT news I begin to attempt to congratulate him but he stops me in my tracks with a "yeah but NOT in a good way!" The reaction to the name "Cherry Karen Sour” hit fast and hit hard. Some people were clearly offended by the use of the Karen meme on their cans and accusations of ignorance and racism began to fly.

From my viewpoint, I thought it was a clever play on a sour beer being named after a sour personality. I've seen enough of the Karen meme vids and GIF's online to get the connection and was truly surprised to see such anger and attacking comments towards them. Of course, I'd witnessed the Karen meme developing over the years since seeing #FuckYouKaren on Reddit YEARS ago. I'd heard the many tales of "the Karen in the dental chair" when my wife comes home from work. I'd just simply never EVER associated this meme with anything racist. My thoughts on the worst part of the Karen meme was the unfortunate effect on the poor ladies who, despite being incredibly nice, respectful, lovely ladies who DO NOT need to speak to the manager and simply happen to be named "KAREN"!

Growing up a redhead I've certainly dealt with my share of being the TARGET of the internet's "less than flattering" meme's that range from my obvious lack of any semblance of a soul, all the way to people celebrating "kick a ginger day" (thanks south park) essentially mobilizing the world towards an entire day of the year promoting actual ASSAULT on myself and my fellow soul-less Gingers.

To be clear, I do not think my personal experiences as the target of the latest internet meme excuses ignorance towards other internet meme's. I do wonder, however, how much responsibility we are to shoulder for keeping up to speed with the latest EVOLUTION of a meme? From my ignorant line of sight "Karen" had not yet manifested herself into a racially charged concept causing fear and possible harm to people of colour.

"Karen" had been making us laugh since 2017 on Reddit but a quick search of Karen on "Know Your Meme" cites that a pretty significant change happened in 2020! May 25th, 2020 to be precise! That day saw the global pandemic collide violently with the killing of George Floyd AS WELL AS the Amy Cooper Central Park incident. Dr. André Brock, associate professor of Black digital culture at Georgia Tech stated "..the viral widespread resonance of “Karen” footage now is the result of an interest convergence where the coronavirus pandemic intersected with collective outrage over police brutality. The weekend that the video of Amy Cooper in Central Park went viral was the same weekend that George Floyd was killed after now-former Minneapolis police officer Derek Chauvin knelt on his neck, suffocating him. The Central Park video only highlighted the extreme violence — and potentially fatal consequences — of a white woman selfishly calling the cops out of spite and professed fear."

That happened May 25th, 2020. 50 days ago at the time of writing this. My point about the timeline of the evolution of the meme is that, as a fellow brewery owner, I can say with certainty that ‘50 days ago’ our friends at Common Crown Brewery would have still thought Karen was funny! They also would have already ordered beer cans labeled with Karen based artwork and they would have been so head down, consumed with keeping their business alive during the pandemic that they would have most likely missed the significance of Karen’s shift over the past weeks. I know i missed it. There's simply no way anyone could convince me that any of the fine folks at Common Crown would ever intentionally offend anyone with their branding and I'm positive that every single person who has ever met them feels the same way. So WHY such a violent and angry outcry towards them? I think Ricky Gervais from his time eating vegan wings on "hot ones" has some relevant insight!

youtube

The video above is obviously an overgeneralization of this new world we live in but it's also hilariously accurate. When did we become a generation of people swiping endlessly through other people's lives, waiting eagerly for OUR turn to be offended and stoke the internets mob justice flames? In today's day and age, I wouldn't feel safe announcing ANY kind of beliefs online be it political, religious, medical, sexual, etc. The internet is now a terrifying place, ready to attacknat a moments' notice and bully you for announcing that you wanted the Olympics in Calgary, or that you voted for Nenshi, or that you drive a Tesla, or, or, or,....

So NOW what!!?? Imagine you're a small business owner and despite your best efforts to make your customers happy, to make a living doing what you love, and to create a great environment for your staff to call home, you find yourself on the receiving end of the angry internet? Recently my good friend and fellow business owner James Boettcher of Righteous Gelato (the artist formerly known as Fiasco Gelato) found himself in this similar situation. After releasing a Black Lives Matter Gelato the internet backlash was swift. I watched terrified from the sidelines as my good friend and true Canadian LEGEND of an entrepreneur battled his way through a minefield. What started as criticism quickly turned into a pretty savage attack with people assaulting him as a person and as a business owner. It was brutal. And knowing the incredibly high level of intentions that both Righteous Gelato AND Common Crown Brewery uphold in every decision they make, I'm sure more and more people are thinking "when is it going to be ME who makes a mistake? When will I be the target of the internet's wrath? And what will I do when it happens to me?"

Having caused a few controversial nationally viral stories myself, I'm no stranger to picking a fight and I'm no stranger to spending 24 hours a day for up to a week at a time responding to every single engagement, every single opinion, every single review, and every single media request during these times and I have a few suggestions for you if your turn ever DOES come around!!

1. Take a Deep Breath - Right or Wrong, Good, Bad or Ugly when you find yourself staring down the loaded barrel of an angry internet, the first step is to recognize that these situations are INCREDIBLE opportunities to let the world see who you really are! What you do next will be a defining moment in the history of your business, so take a deep breath and think "how do I let the TRUE spirit of my company's DNA shine through."

2. Decide COLLECTIVELY on your position - We often react quickly with anger or defensiveness towards a seemingly unjustified criticism aimed at ourselves or our business. And why WOULDN'T we? NO ONE knows how hard we've worked as business owners to get to where we are right?? But that type of thinking is like a biased parent who's kid can do NO WRONG!! Anyone with kids on a sports team knows those parents! They are the WORST and usually have the worst kids! haha. But by involving your entire team to address the situation cooler heads can often prevail and can help a business see the situation from another position. Compassion, sympathy, and understanding of how others see our actions differently than we do is a hard skill to master. It's also perhaps the most important first step in admitting that we may, have truly made a mistake and need to genuinely make things right. Collectively Involving your team members with a less emotional connection to business is a great way to show them your level of respect for their insight as well as arrive at a position that the entire business believes and OWNS!

3. OWN your position...GENUINELY! - The internet can spot a fake a MILE away. Bullshit meters these days are finely tuned to sniff out shallow apologies, or disingenuous attempts to make the situation "go away". As Ricky Gervais stated above, it's OK if people don't agree with your decisions, even if they're MAD at your decisions. But don't waffle. If you were wrong...OWN IT! Apologize and mean it! Here's a sniff test example of whether you own an apology or not: If you apologize online for your actions and then someone posts in support of you that they thought your actions were justified....and you don't CORRECT them? then guess what? YOU'RE NOT SORRY so don't say that you are.

4. Don't delete the thread! - I love reading other business' reviews online! But I never waste my time with the 5-star reviews. I always feel they're either fake or the business owners' parents! either way, there's no value to me reading them. It's the ONE-star reviews that show me how a business responds to the challenges of business and most of THOSE are BS as well. When a bar gets a one-star review because some jackass felt vindictive towards the bartender who "cut him off" for the night. I laugh at the drunk idiot who thinks that bad review of this nature makes ANY negative impact on the business. On the contrary, a witty, clever response to a one-star review of this nature can do wonders for letting the world see your business's personality. And when a REAL one-star review comes in. It's a TRUE opportunity to show how your business is managed and you "right the wrongs". But somehow as business owners, we FEAR the one-star review!! Don't! Trust that the public will read between the lines and make their decision based on all the information. Again, we all have highly tuned bullshit meters, and deleting threads of this nature not only stop the public from gaining the full context of the situation you may find yourself in. It also, more often than not, creates a perception of guilt. If I hear about a company experiencing something similar and I look them and can read the threads I can make my OWN decision on where I stand on the matter. But if the threads have been deleted, I instinctively assume "boy they must have really screwed up!"

5. Don't be intimidated by the volume of the angry - People who "oppose" are ALWAYS louder that those who "support". Just because you've never had this much attention on your social channels and it ALL appears to be negative. You have to know that in general people who support you are much less likely to dive into shark-infested waters with you. However other SHARKS smell blood and are MUCH more likely to join in on the feeding frenzy. I guess it's just not as fun to stick your neck out there when you can safely watch the attack from the shore. Have faith, however, that despite the feeling of helplessness and the isolation of feeling totally alone in these times, there are TONNES of people who will read the posts, perhaps see both sides and potentially send you some support on a private DM, email, or phone call in support of what you're going through REGARDLESS of whether you're right or wrong. OTHER business owners are the friends you need to lean on, or shoulders to cry on during these times. The “swim in the deep end with me” quote from the video above is awesome to me as I’ve sent up the bat signal in my business before and called upon my pal Jim button of Village Brewery to wade into deep waters with me on issues in the past. It meant EVERYTHING to me that he dove in, headfirst with me! It’s incredibly important to have people around you who, when they believe in your cause, are willing to stand with you on the front lines taking fire while helping keep the flag in the air! Have those people around but also BE that person when YOU’RE called upon.

6. LEARN, LEARN, and LEARN SOME MORE- Regardless of the situation you've experienced, if you come away without learning and actively attempting to be better moving forward than you're an idiot. The entire WORLD is receiving a crash course on what acceptable behaviour looks like from all corners of humanity. The last few years have exposed a lot of mistakes humanity has made. The #MeToo movement, #BlackLivesMatter, and LGBTQ issues (to name a few) have allowed the world to learn how our past behaviours, past stereotypes, and even past ways of thinking are just not enough anymore. Being truly open to learning about what matters in the lives of those around us is truly eye-opening and incredibly important for loving forward progress of humanity. And without willing hearts, open to the opportunity to LEARN we'll all just be s bunch of angry internet trolls looking for people to attack who don't think the exact same way WE do or vote the same way WE do, etc!!

Finally, My hope for this blog is a call for PASSIONATE understanding and forgiveness. It's OK to be offended and it's OK to let a person or a business know how they've offended. The piece of the puzzle I've seen missing for some time now, however, is understanding and forgiveness. UNDERSTANDING that the initial outward appearance of a can of beer named after "KAREN" does not reflect the INTENTIONS of the great people trying to do great things for our community. But also the FORGIVENESS towards them once the issue has been raised. Most businesses today would stand stunned, eyes wide open, paralyzed in fear, and totally unaware of what to do next when faced with the attacks I've witnessed over the past year. Forgiveness is LIBERATING. It feels GOOD! But it takes empathy and compassion.

Imagine a thread someday where the offender realizes their mistake after reading criticisms they receive online. They regret it. They genuinely apologize. They learn a tonne, become more culturally aware, and the offended parties empathize with them, show them compassion, and openly forgive them for their mistake? Jack Handy probably said it best..."I can picture in my mind a world without war, a world without hate. And I can picture us attacking that world because they'd never expect it"

1 note · View note

knuffled · 5 years ago

Text

Just Practice - Chapter 3

it’s here! sorry it took so long - i have an explanation sort at the notes at the end on ao3. reblog if you enjoyed the chapter - it really encourages me! comments/asks are especially welcome!

here’s the ao3 link

The sunlight filtered through the fluttering curtains in Annabeth’s bedroom, warming the side of her face and waking her. She sat up in her office chair with a yawn and stretched before rubbing the grime out of her eyes. When she looked down, she noted with some disgust the small puddle of drool on her SAT prep book. It was hard to say how long she’d been asleep, but it looked like it was late in the afternoon. She fumbled for her phone, which was on top of her bedside table, to check the time just as Percy called.

“Hello?” she said.

“Hey, I’m on my way to pick you up right now, so I wanted to give you a heads up,” Percy said.

With unadulterated horror, Annabeth pulled her phone away to look at the time. It was nearly five. Jesus, that meant she’d been asleep for nearly three hours.

“Shit,” she muttered.

“Uh, oh,” Percy said. “That doesn’t sound good. What’s going on?”

Annabeth wedged the phone between her shoulder and her ear and frantically rummaged in her closet for something clean to wear.

“Um, nothing. Nothing! How far out did you say you were again?” she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

“Uh, I’m at the traffic light by the Sonic,” he said. “You sure you’re okay?”

That gave her about ten minutes to shower and get ready — it would be rough but doable. She settled for the first t-shirt her grasping hands could find and an old pair of jeans tucked in the back of the closet.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Everything’s fine. I’ll see you in a bit,” she said quickly.

Percy began to say something, but she hung up before he had the chance and ran to the bathroom, which was thankfully unoccupied. Annabeth rushed through her shower and decided she didn’t have enough time to do anything fancy with her hair, so she settled for leaving her hair down. After grabbing her phone, she took the stairs down three at time and almost bowled into her step-mother, Helen.

“Oh!” she gasped.

Annabeth swerved around her, avoiding eye contact, and muttered, “Sorry.”

“Where are you going in such a rush?” Helen asked.

“I’m hanging out with Percy,” Annabeth said, slipping on her shoes.

“Does that mean you won’t be home for dinner?” Helen asked.

Annabeth shrugged and said, “Probably not.”

Helen sighed and said, “Well, it’s not like you normally eat with this family anyways.”

Annabeth froze, mid-way through tying her shoes, and felt her jaw tighten. For a few seconds, she wrestled with the temptation to say something snarky in response, but she forced herself to take a deep breath and ignore it. Getting into arguments with her step-mom only ever pissed her off.

“Dad, I’m hanging out with Percy!” Annabeth yelled over her shoulder.

She could see the back of his head in the living room, reading a newspaper. He made some distracted noise of acknowledgement but didn’t otherwise turn from his paper. Annabeth swallowed hard and forced open the front door before she ran down the steps leading to her front door and slipped into the passenger’s side seat of Percy’s car.

“Hey,” Percy said.

“Hey,” Annabeth muttered, reaching for her seatbelt.

Annabeth knew that if Percy saw her face, he would immediately begin worrying, so she turned away from him and pressed her forehead against the cold window. Still, she could hear the concern in his voice when he said, “Ready to go?”

All Annabeth could do was nod, prompting Percy to start the engine and pull out of her driveway. She screwed her eyes shut and took another deep, shuddering breath, wrapping her arms around body and curling in the seat towards the window. There was a song she didn’t recognize playing feebly through the car radio, but it was so quiet that the sound of wheels on the road drowned it out. There was something peaceful about the noise in conjunction with the feeling of the cold glass against her forehead, and by the time they pulled onto the highway, Annabeth felt a little less on edge.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Percy asked quietly.

Annabeth moved her head from the window and said, “No, not really.”

Percy gave her a quick glance before looking back at the road and said, “Well, if you want to, I’m here to listen.”

“I know,” Annabeth said, mustering a smile. “Thanks.”

She turned towards the window again and stared outside. Percy’s hand quietly found hers and gave it a gentle squeeze before letting it go, and Annabeth felt a surge of gratitude and affection for him rush through her. It was the little things like that that made Annabeth love him so much. He somehow always knew how to make her feel better. A Taylor Swift song began playing on the radio, which made her groan out of habit, derailing her train of thought.

“Ever the T-Swift hater,” Percy said, sighing melodramatically.

Annabeth sat up straight and scoffed. “I don’t hate her,” she said.

“That was utterly convincing,” Percy said.

“It’s just I don’t like that��”

“That they play her songs non-stop because it gets on your nerves, I know,” Percy said smugly.

Annabeth turned to glower at him but froze at the sight of him instead. It was the first time that day that she had gotten a proper look at Percy, and she found herself trying not to gape at him.

Percy noticed her staring and rubbed his cheek, frowning. “What? Do I have something on my face?” he asked.

She had not been expecting him to dress up. Maybe it was a bit egregious to say he was dressed up — he was only wearing a button down shirt and a pair of black skinny jeans — but the outfit looked oddly professional on him. Annabeth knew from prior experience that Percy hated wearing button down shirts, even though she’d always said he looked really good in them, and this black and white checkered number he was wearing was no exception. Christ, he’d even rolled up the sleeves, exposing his forearms.

“You’re dressed up!” she said incredulously.

“Gee, thanks for noticing,” Percy said, rolling his eyes, but there was no venom in his voice. “It only took you, what, like fifteen minutes?”

“But you hate button downs,” Annabeth said.

“Well, yeah, usually—”

“Nobody told me we were dressing up,” Annabeth interrupted, feeling her heart sinking.

“We’re going on a date, Annabeth. A date. You’re kind of supposed to dress up for them, you know?” Percy said, laughing.

Annabeth suddenly felt horribly aware of how she was wearing a ratty old t-shirt from middle school and how it had a small hole near her right shoulder. Her jeans weren’t much better — on top of being probably the worst pair she owned, they had also been thrown in the wash so many times they had turned into denim soup.

There was a fond resignation in Percy’s voice when he said, “I had a feeling this sort of thing might happen. If anything, it’s my fault for not letting you know beforehand. Don’t worry though, we’re not going anywhere fancy.”

Annabeth still mumbled an apology and shrank back in her car seat. She wished the ground would swallow her whole. This whole practice dating thing had been her idea, and she was the one fucking everything up. It was honestly unbelievable how she managed to forget such a major thing on her first date. It was made all the worse by the fact that Percy was taking this seriously. Of course, she was glad that he was, but it only served to highlight her own ineptitude.

As if he could read her mind, Percy turned to her and said, “Annabeth, don’t worry about it. Seriously. I just want you to have a good time tonight. That’s all that matters to me, okay?”

“Okay,” Annabeth said quietly. “Now where are we going?”

A small smile crossed Percy’s face. “You’ll see. We’re almost there.”

It took another ten minutes before Percy pulled into a parking lot in front of a large building. When Annabeth stepped outside, she could hear the ocean not far in the distance and the cawing of seagulls over head. The sky was turning dark and gray, and she could see the beginnings of a storm forming on the horizon, out at sea.

Standing in front of the building, Percy opened his arms like a showman and said, “Ta-da, it’s the aquarium!”

“I can’t believe I didn’t think of that,” Annabeth said, smiling.

“C’mon, let’s head inside and get tickets,” Percy said. “Maybe they’ll give me a discount.”

“Oh, yeah, you used to work here right?” Annabeth said, walking alongside Percy.

“Yeah, I volunteered here the summer before junior year. You know, the one you spent at your cousin’s place in Virginia?”

“Man, that summer was so boring,” Annabeth groaned. “At least we weren’t staying with my step-mom’s side of the family.”

Percy winced and said, “That would’ve been bad.”

“It would’ve been fucking train wreck, is what it would’ve been,” Annabeth snorted. “I’d honestly rather get lobotomized than go through that.”

When Percy laughed, Annabeth felt her spirits raise somewhat. They got in line to get their tickets, and Percy even managed to sweet-talk the middle aged lady at the ticket counter, who remembered him, into giving them both a discount. As she applied the discount, Percy turned around and flashed Annabeth a bright, disbelieving grin, and Annabeth couldn’t smiling back. She was distracted by it long enough for Percy to pay for both their tickets before she could complain.

He handed her a ticket as they walked towards the entrance of the museum and laughed giddily. “I can’t believe that worked. Thank god it was Janice at the register today and not Karen. She would have probably charged us double.”

“You didn’t need to pay for my ticket,” Annabeth huffed.

“My mom didn’t raise a son who wouldn’t pay on a first date. Sorry not sorry,” Percy said, shrugging.

Annabeth couldn’t argue with that logic. “Well, I’m buying dinner. No arguing.”

“I suppose I’ll let you have that one,” Percy said, laughing. “Now, what do you want to go see first?”

“Uh, I don’t know,” Annabeth said. “The penguins, I guess?”

“Good choice! Penguins it is!” Percy beamed.

The aquarium was crowded, which made sense given that it was Saturday and that the aquarium was pretty popular. Even though Annabeth had lived in Westwood her entire life, she had never actually been here, much to Percy’s chagrin. He’d always promised to take her, but it had never panned out for whatever reason. It was kind of fitting that they were here for their first date. The thought brought a small smile to her face.

“Okay, here we are,” Percy said, coming to a stop. There were about four penguins waddling around in their enclosure and two more swimming in the water.

Percy pointed one of them out and said, “That’s Benny. He’s the youngest penguin we have here. Oh and that’s Lyla. The one swimming there is Gertrude. Then there’s Nina, Oswald, and I think that’s Coco hiding behind the rocks. The really big one is Horace. Horace is kind of a dick. He always tried to steal from the other penguins during feeding time.”

“How can you tell which one is which?” Annabeth asked, still trying to digest the sudden deluge of information coming her way.

“Well, Benny is the smallest, and Horace is the biggest, so there’s two right there. Nina and Coco always stick near each other, but Nina has a white patch on the nape of her neck. Gertrude loves to swim, Lyla hoards pebbles, and Oswald has a cut on one of his flippers from getting into a fight with Horace,” Percy explained.

“How do you remember all of that?” Annabeth asked.

An easy smile crossed Percy’s lips as he shrugged. “I don’t know. I just kinda do? Maybe because I worked with them a lot. Which way do you want to go next?”

“Uh, left?” Annabeth said.

Percy brightened impossibly further and said, “Ooh, that’s where the sea horses are!”

She couldn’t help smiling at his excitement and followed him as they walked to the next exhibit. Percy pointed out all the animals he’d worked with and shared stories about the particularly memorable ones. He could also spout off a bunch of facts about any of the animals, and the more he talked, the more animated he got. At some point, he started steering Annabeth to the exhibits, his hand on the small of her back, too caught up in what he was saying to notice.

Annabeth lost track of what he was saying about a fourth of the way through the aquarium. It occurred to her that this is what he must have felt like when she went off on rants about architecture. This time, Percy was the one going a hundred miles an hour while she did her best to keep up. It was strange having their roles reversed, but the more animated he got, the more he seemed to glow, so it was kind of worth it.

Eventually, they made their way to a gigantic tank at the heart of the aquarium, which was filled with the most diverse amount of fish Annabeth had seen all day. The tank was so big it was impossible to get a full view through only one window. The windows were supported at the base by concrete that sloped up from the ground to hold the glass in place. Percy laid down on one such slope and Annabeth laid down beside him when he wordlessly patted the spot next to him.

From their new vantage point, they were looking at the tank upside down. Annabeth could only stare as groups of colorful fish swam past, occasionally dispersing when an eel or larger fish showed up. With the windows hanging over their heads, the fish were so close that it almost felt like she was in the tank herself.

She didn’t know how long they laid there, silently staring up at the animals swimming, but eventually she turned to Percy and whispered, “This is so cool. I had no idea you knew so much about all this.”

When he shrugged nonchalantly, Annabeth said, “No, don’t try and play it off. It’s amazing. You could honestly give Wikipedia a run for its money.”

Percy shook with suppressed laughter, but Annabeth nudged him with her elbow until he met her eyes. “Seriously. You’re amazing,” she said, trying her best to make him understand.

“Thanks,” he whispered.

“I mean I’ve always known you’ve loved the ocean and stuff, but I never realize that you knew this much.”

Percy offered her a small smile and something alien gleamed in his eyes. “There’s lots of things that you don’t know about me.”

The subtext in his words was plain to hear, even if Annabeth couldn’t understand what he was implying. She tried looking into his eyes for clues, but she only saw an invisible challenge in them. Before she could ask him what he meant by that, Percy stood up and the moment was gone.

“We should get going,” he said. “I’m getting hungry.”

“Yeah,” Annabeth said, frowning. “Me too.”

Outside, it was beginning to get dark. The storm had moved significantly closer and now loomed overhead. They found a small diner and ordered cheeseburgers and milkshakes to eat as they walked along the beach. They sort of talked about everything and nothing while they walked and ate. Eventually they made their way to the beach, but it was getting too dark to go in the water, so they settled for sitting on the sand, which had already begun losing warmth now that dusk had arrived.

When Annabeth stole yet another sip from his milkshake, Percy shoved her. “I swear to god, you’ve stolen more than half of my milkshake, you asshole. More than half!” he fumed, but it was undercut by the fact that he was trying hard not to laugh.

“I drink your milkshake! I drink it all up!” Annabeth said, cackling.

Percy groaned and said, “Isn’t that from that one movie we had to watch in history class? Blood something or other?”

“There Will Be Blood,” Annabeth corrected.

“It was a such fucking awful movie,” Percy said. “I almost wanted to call in sick when we were watching it.”

“I don’t know, the part where he went nuts and chased Paul Dano in his bowling alley was pretty entertaining,” Annabeth said.

There was a pause before Percy said, “Okay, agreed, but that doesn’t make up for the other hour and a half of that movie.”

Annabeth hummed in agreement, watching with avid interest as Percy finished what little remained of his milkshake. He made a show of slurping as obnoxiously as he could, so Annabeth pushed him, even though it was making her laugh. Percy made a noise of disapproval and glowered at her as he put aside the empty cup.

“You’re honestly so mean to me, Annabeth Chase,” he said, shaking his head. “Why do I put up with you?”

“Because you love me,” Annabeth teased.

There was a moment where she thought Percy stiffened beside her, but when she looked over at him, he was only rolling his eyes. It happened so quickly that she almost missed it.

Percy quickly cleared his throat and said, “Mom wanted me to tell you she said hi, by the way. And that you should come over sometime because she misses you. Same with Estelle.”

“I’ve been meaning to,” Annabeth said. “It’s just been busy. Between school and college apps and testing and cross country, I barely have time to breathe. Like this morning, for example, I spent like four hours studying for the SAT.”

“That sounds like a lovely way to spent a Saturday morning. Why oh why would you complain?” Percy said, smiling.

“Yeah, okay, Mr. Swimming Scholarship.”

“Nothing’s set in stone yet,” Percy said warily.

Annabeth shrugged and leaned back, resting on her elbows. “It’s only a matter of time. The scouts will be raving about you — if they aren’t already that is. You deserve it though. I know how hard you’ve worked these last few years,” she said.

“Thanks,” Percy said softly. “And you’ll crush the SAT. I know you will.”

“I hope so,” Annabeth said, sighing. “Weird how we are finally seniors now, right? One last year and then it’s off to college.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Percy muttered, hugging his knees to his chest. “High school is hard enough as it is. I don’t even wanna imagine how bad college is going to be.”

“Same,” Annabeth said. “We’ll survive somehow. We always do.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Percy sighed.

“On a more serious note, have you considered working your way up at the aquarium or something? Like in the off chance that the college stuff doesn’t pan out, I mean. You looked really passionate back there,” she said.

Percy started drawing shapes in the sand as his face turned red. “I talked at you literally non-stop. I’m really sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Annabeth said. “It was really cool seeing a side of you I’ve never seen before. And I learned a lot.”

“Well, I’m glad you did, but I still felt like one of those guys that just doesn’t shut up on a first date. Felt like I was mansplaining or something,” he said.

“Don’t be silly. I had a lot of fun. I was definitely wowed,” Annabeth said, smiling.

Percy looked up at her shyly. “Really?” he said.

“Really, really,” Annabeth promised. “But next time, I’ll be the one showing you around, Seaweed Brain, so look forward to it.”

An enormous grin slid across Percy’s face, and he seemed to glow even brighter than he had in the aquarium, if such a thing was even possible. A little laugh escaped him before he could help it.

“What’s so funny?” Annabeth asked, frowning.

He shook his head, still laughing a little, and said, “Nothing.”

“That was real convincing.”

“Well, it’s just that I’m told I set the bar pretty high when it comes to dates, you know? You sure you can top that, Chase?” he asked, grinning.

Annabeth breathed a laugh and shoved him. “Don’t get so cocky, Seaweed Brain. This is what I get for paying you a genuine compliment, huh?” she said.

Before Percy could respond, the clouds overhead boomed and suddenly it began to rain. They both stood up and ran back to Percy’s car, just in time to avoid the torrential downpour that followed.

“There’s a towel in the back seat if you need it,” Percy said as he started the car. “I used it for swim team practice on Friday though, so fair warning.”

“I’m okay. I didn’t get too wet,” Annabeth said.

The rest of the car ride was relatively quiet apart from the sound of rain and thunder, but Annabeth’s mood began to drop the closer they drew to home. She stared at the shifting landscape outside the window, trying not to feel like all the magic of the date had been suddenly undercut. It was still raining heavily when they stopped in front of Annabeth’s house, even though the drive had taken over a half hour.

“I really don’t want to go back inside,” she muttered.

“Did something happen?” Percy asked.

Annabeth pressed her head into her car seat headrest and screwed her eyes shut. “Yeah, but I don’t want to get into it right now,” she said.

There was a pause before Percy said, “You can sleep over at my place tonight, if you want. My mom would be totally fine with it.”

“Thanks, but I kind of have to go home tonight, or it’ll just get worse,” Annabeth said. “Thanks though. Not just for that, but for the date and everything. I had a great time.”

“Good, I’m glad,” Percy said, smiling softly.

“I’ll see at you school on Monday then, I guess,” Annabeth said, sighing as she stepped out of the car.

“See you then,” Percy said, nodding.

“Later,” Annabeth said.

She gave Percy one final wave once she reached the front door, and once he pulled out of her driveway, she stepped inside. The sound of the television coming from the master bedroom made her breathe a sigh of relief. She slipped off her shoes and made her way to her room, locking the door behind her once she was inside.

She checked her phone and saw that it was almost midnight. Once she changed into her pajamas and shut the open window, Annabeth slipped into bed and stared at the ceiling. There was a weary fear that she would spend the rest of the night overthinking about the day’s events, unable to sleep, but she fell asleep almost immediately after closing her eyes, grateful for some rest.

#percabeth fic #percabeth #pjo fanfic #percy jackson #annabeth chase #percy/annabeth

35 notes · View notes

ragnarachael · 6 years ago

Text

Her.

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Word Count: 1,271

Summary: You go into work after your eventful weekend getting over your grocery shopping experience thinking that you'd have a normal Monday at work. Oh how you wish it was normal.

A Note: i told myself that i didn’t need to put this out today. here i am. putting it out. today. it’s fucking 4 in the afternoon and i’m out here with a sequel already. i’m attached to this series. there will be a third part, thank @spider-slutt for giving me inspiration to write this out, please don’t try to hate me too much.

Warnings: There’s no real warnings yet, but there’s mentions of a gun near the end of the piece. Part One Part Three Part Four Part Five AO3

It was an early Monday morning when you walked into The Square Diner.

Cold air hung in the dining area where the tables were, due to the sudden snow that decided to hit New York City.

You loved it.

You waved to some of the regulars who were happily sipping at coffee while they looked at their menus, still bundled up in their winter coats and scarves.

If only you were so lucky.

You made it to the small back room and started to work on tugging off the warmth and security of your jacket, hanging it on one of the free hooks, along with your bag you’d brought your college work with you for your break.

A normal, average, everyday Monday.

You came back out in your uniform, already genuinely debating on pulling your coat back on and praying your boss didn’t see you wearing it.

Ignoring the idea you’re quick to grab a small waist apron that was already armed with various pens and a server pad nestled in the semi-deep front pockets, ready to get to work.

You’re the only other server besides Janice that’s there this morning, the cooks happily conversing in the back.

The atmosphere is light.

Your morning slowly gets busier, serving a few regulars and newcomers, trying extremely hard not to curse out to any man who just so happened to try and flirt with you.

The audacity.

By the late morning, your section of the diner was almost empty, your usual party of three coming in before sitting at their usual booth.

You sent them a wide smile as you made your way to their table, pen and server pad at the ready.

“Welcome back to The Square Diner, you guys. The usual?”

Click. Shift.

“We’ll actually start today off with some coffee, if that’s okay, Y/N,” Matt said kindly, turning his head in the general direction where you stood.

You were quick to scribble on the server pad before smiling, drawing a small symbol at the top of the ticket that you insisted on using whenever the Lawyers of Hell’s Kitchen came in.

“Of course! I’ll be back with some mugs.”

You were quick to get the three mugs and place them in front of Karen, Matt, and Foggy before filling them up three-quarters of the way before carefully sliding the creamer cups and sugar up a bit closer to their hands so Matt didn’t have to feel around or get directed by Karen and Foggy too much.

“Creamer’s on your left, sugar’s closer to the right. I’ll check back in with you in a bit to see if you’re wanting anything else, alright?” You said kindly, your smile growing as they thank you as if you’ve just given them water after walking through a desert.

You’re in the middle of placing the coffee pot on the dock when the bell to the diner rang and someone sat at the breakfast bar, that was also sadly your turn to serve until your break.

“Hi, welcome to The Square Diner, what can I get you?” You said as you turned around, only to almost freeze in your place.

It was her. The girl Peter was with that night.

Who said that this could happen? In all the places of New York-

“Hello! Uh, I’ll just take a coffee for right now, thank you.”

Inhale. Force Smile. Turn.

You grabbed a mug from the small rack in the corner of the counter behind the bar, quick to place it in front of her as she read the menu and grab the coffee pot to fill it three-quarters of the way.

“Let me know if I can get you anything, alright?” You forced your smile to look more authentic.

The girl smiled and nodded as she looked at the menu.

You let your smile fall quickly after you placed the pot back on the dock and went back to Karen, Matt, and Foggy’s booth.

“Have we decided on what to order for your late breakfast?” You questioned, letting a small smile come up as you held your serving pad and pen in hand again.

Click. Shift. Clear throat.

You were quick to write down their orders and relay them to the cooks before you were practically forced to turn your attention to her.

“Have you decided on anything, ma’am?” You asked.

Wow, she really brings out the customer service voice out of you.

“Oh, um, yeah, I’d like..” She started, trailing off slightly as you quickly got your pad ready to write her order on a new page before she spoke up, looking at your face. “You look familiar..”

Oh no. No, no no no.

“I work here as often as I can between classes-” You offered before she cut you off, her face lighting up.

“You’re the girl that Peter ran after in the store the other night!” She exclaimed, seeming genuinely happy to actually meet you. You wish you felt the same, but something in you just wouldn’t let that happen.

“Oh- Uh, yeah. Hi.”

Shift. Click. Inhale. Force Wider Smile.

“You’re- you’re Y/N right? Peter’s friend?”

A friend? Friend?

“Yeah, I am,” You gritted out with your best tone possible that wouldn’t get you fired. You moved your pen to your hand that held the pad and held it out. “And you are?”

“Emily.” Her hand was weirdly soft and not at all cold in your hand as you briefly shook hands.

“Nice to meet you, Emily. Glad to put a name to the face.”

You wish it was your face that was kissed at the store that night.

“Same here! I’ll tell you my order super quick and I’ll let you get your orders, I’m so sorry for keeping you!”

You didn’t get what she meant until you glanced over your shoulder to see the food for the only booth you have. Oh.

Quickly you wrote her order and slid it to the cooks before piling the hot plates on your arms with ease, moving over gracefully to the booth the group sat at.

You really wish waitressing was an olympic sport, you’d get the gold.

You laid the dishes in front of Foggy, Karen, and Matt respectively and asked if they needed anything else.

After that point, your day got a little easier.

The Lawyers of Hell’s Kitchen left right as the diner picked up for the lunch rush, leaving you a nice tip between the three, and plans to swing by their office to get a look at some cases you could go and try to help them with.

Emily was seeming to be nice, which made you swallow your pride and try to push back that she’s your ex’s new girl.

She seemed sweet, kinda like the Snickers you devoured during your show’s rerun that night.

But your mind wouldn’t leave it at that. You kept replaying how she and Peter had kissed at the store and your sadness came back that you shook off over 48 hours ago.

It was agitating.

You didn’t have any choice to run. No choice to hide from it.

It really made you want to swan dive into the oil of the deep fryer in the kitchen during your break.

However, that was avoided.

Barely.

You were talking with one of the cooks, trying to get yourself into higher spirits when you were both on your breaks, Emily still at the breakfast bar as she ate her food.

It was all silent.

Until you heard what sounded like a gun cocking, and someone screaming as if they were in a horror film, about to get murdered.

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #(i'm sorry for the daredevil tags #matt karen and foggy are in this piece so i have to)#matt murdock #karen page #foggy nelson #oh oh oh cliffhanger until i write the third one huh #y'all are lucky i didn't have anything else to do or i might have never done this #rachael writes

21 notes · View notes

rndyounghowze · 5 years ago

Text

Shaken Not Stirred Players are Not Getting Married Today with Company at Gateway by the Bay in Somers Point, NJ

By: Ricky and Dana Young-Howze

The Gateway by the Bay was the jewel of the shore last night with a production of Company staged by the Shaken Not Stirred Players. This musical with music by Stephen Sondheim and book by George Furth was directed by Sally Castle and gave us a great reason to be alive!

It's Bobby's thirty-fifth birthday. He's got a great apartment, lots of friends. You could say he's always in good...well company. But there's this nagging thing inside him. He's not married and even though he has so many friends he's still lacking... something. He hangs out with all of his married friends and some on again off again girlfriends but does he ever really have someone? Will he find it before he has to blow out another set of birthday candles?

I used to do a lot of theatre with a small theatre group just like this so I can appreciate something about the direction by Sally Castle. When you have a company (ha) of community stage veterans like this you're more directing traffic and channeling energy. You get a group of stage friends with great energy and all of a sudden you're on the same wavelength. I felt like there was a little bit of dragging energy up front but then the first bars of the opening number struck up and this show just took off! You can almost rev them up every night and get out of their way.

This cast gave me so many feels! I don't know where to begin!

When you first look at Robert (played by Mark Leggieri) you think "really, him"? And then he sings and you're like "oooh!" And then he acts and you're like "him!" It's not that he doesn't look the part but you almost can't see it with such a lovable looking guy! So yeah he's the biggest sleeper hit of the night. You gotta come see him. He really holds his audience and delivers a powerhouse performance. He bowled me over.

Sarah (played by Nina Meron) can rock bright patterns and knock a guy on his rump. That's a skill set not always called for but she delivers. Don't forget that she's also a great singer and dancer and mixes great against James Dalfonso as Harry. Speaking of him...

Harry (played by James Dalfonso) can now add punching bag to his resume! It's great to see a producer cutting a rug with the cast onstage. I know producers who work in the office or direct behind the scenes. I like the producers who act in the trenches with the rest of the battalion.

Susan (played by Sherry Mistler) gave her best southern drawl that she could muster and this Tennessee expat was kinda impressed. You can hear her splendid voice in the background all the time! I definitely would love to see her onstage again!

Peter (played by Timothy J. Cooper) should really be known for his wonderful two step in "Side by Side" but he also has some really great acting chops. She and Sherry really need to share the stage again.

Jenny (played by Deborah Jenkins) was just a laugh riot from the very beginning to the end. I really liked her voice the best. This Indiana native had the Jersey shore rolling in the aisles last night!

I won’t talk about how David (played by Keith D. Cooper) played high “a little too well”. And he can sure cut a rug. His work in the mail ensemble pieces really took the cake!

I definitely couldn't keep my eyes off of Amy (played by Chelsey Jean) she gets my second favorite song of the night and she literally made me put down my phone and laugh out loud! To be so cool and trained to be off your rocker so divinely is an amazing gift! Thanks for sharing it with us!

A great shout out to Paul (played by Eric Williams) for being in character all the dang time especially since he has to be right behind Bobby center stage most of the night. A great voice with a lot of promise in it!

Joanne (played by Karen Sutherland) Is my spirit animal with her sass and snark. It's just what you need in a musical like this. You have to listen to her rendition of "Ladies who Lunch". It's the topper on the wackadoodle cake of this musical.

Greg Dragon who played Larry is an anesthesiologist by day but leaves people feeling anything but numb in real life. His singing and dancing is sure to give tingles! You think he should dance like a Sherman tank but he's really quite nimble.

Marta (played by Katie Risko) gets to sing my favorite song and so loved the way that she rambled on and on and verbally flowed all over us. That's the best way I can describe her performance. It's a really great thing I promise.

Kathy (played by Kimberly Glenn Tunney) is normally one of my favorite high school directors and was so great to see her hit the stage for the first time in a long time. I really hope it isn't the last! She was really good!

April (played by Jacklyn Buckingham) just made me giggle. It takes a lot of skill and intelligence to be so ditzy. Great job!

A good shout-out to the choreography by Nancy Gibson. It's hard sometimes to adjust for a large mix of actors that aren't exactly chorus girls but aren't greenhorns either. She was able to coax a mind-blowing performance out of them.

Conductor and pianist Scott J. Breiner worked hard with percussionists Jason Koenig and Ed Shea to fill the house with the rich music of Sondheim's score. This is a good thing about your director also being your musical director. You can directly control the mixes of sound and voices. Actually I have to commend the whole cast for having great voices that carried very far into the house over all the music and noise and karate going on. Great job!

Set design and construction by James Dalfonso, Eric Peterson, and Tyler Hogg made such a dynamic and beautiful staging. I wish a little thought would be taken on the height of steps in future productions. The many stepped platforms ensured a lot of actors were more looking at their feet so as to not trip instead of being in the moment.

Lighting Design by Philip Pallitto made great work of using the cyclorama and bright colors to brighten the atmosphere. I adore the use of shadow and light to draw our focus to what we should be seeing when the stage is full of couples.

Costume Design by Karen Sutherland and Sarah MacArthur gave me characters that "printed" in my head. I could tell you exactly who was who if you asked me something as simple as their shirt color and that's important in huge ensemble numbers. Great job!

This is a show that I love no matter how dated it gets. You get a fun loving cast that loves the show and you can still have a lot of fun stepping inside of it. You can tell that they really loved this show and want you to love it by the end too! They have a matinee today and another weekend coming up. Go see them!

1 note · View note

thedivinefish · 5 years ago

Text

TGIWednesday and a download for rising above it all

TGIWednesday News

What do you miss most? I miss sitting down in a restaurant, going to the movies, my aqua class at LA Fitness center, and I miss folks going without masks and gloves and general hysteria. When will “normal” return? I used to get July, then June, now it’s about the 3rd week in May. Hold on and do your best not to make each day Ground Hog Day - if you haven’t seen the movie now’s the time! And of course pick up our new audio MP3 for Transcending the Coronavirus/Covid-19 Crisis It’s still FREE with any purchase from the shop. Most folks are getting the $22 Zoom calls (works like a 2 for 1) but see what works for you. And keep the faith and all moving forward in prayers with grace and ease.

Last night's Pink Supermoon was the largest in 2020 - read more about what that means here. -------------- I don't know who wrote this, but it's beautiful. ♥️ "We fell asleep in one world, and woke up in another. Suddenly Disney is out of magic, Paris is no longer romantic, New York doesn't stand up anymore, the Chinese wall is no longer a fortress, and Mecca is empty. Hugs & kisses suddenly become weapons, and not visiting parents & friends becomes an act of love. Suddenly you realize that power, beauty & money are worthless, and can't get you the oxygen you're fighting for. The world continues its life and it is beautiful. It only puts humans in cages. I think it's sending us a message: "You are not necessary. The air, earth, water and sky without you are fine. When you come back, remember that you are my guests. Not my masters."

TGIWednesday Download

~ RISING ABOVE IT ALL ~ I believe, think, know and feel that we can and will rise above all of this soon. I am ready, willing and able to leave the past behind and lean into a more promising future while remaining fully present. I know, when, where, how and why to let go and let spirit show me the gentle easy way. I am asking now in all languages and throughout all time lines and so it is.

LIVE Appearances - Free Healing

*HAPPENING TODAY* April 8th 4pm Eastern / 1pm Pacific You Wealth Revolution w/host Darius Barazandeh Breaking Through Your Hidden Plateaus to Progress - special super-charged prayer! Get access to this show, all speakers and special bonus gifts >> Register Here! Wed. May 13th The Alara Canfield Show - Register Here Thurs. May 21st Soul Talk with Patty Malek - Register Here Mon. June 22nd - Straight Talk for the Soul w/ Cari Murphy Thurs. July 30th - Your Divine Uniqueness with host Moncef Akfir

Fish Food

The Daily Bread To Feed The Fish

Tell The Fish: 365 Daily Inspirations & Affirmations

APRIL 8th "Today I will exercise my right to say NO! I will be conservative in all my dealings and use discretion when approached with a dilemma. I will choose wisely and use my wits as much as my angels and guides that will work through me."

From the Fish Box

"Thank you so much for the reassuring download/healing! We so far are well. The muscles in the side of my neck that were bulging from the car accident have reduced so much. My lungs seem better. Bite is better. Chris’ clearing of throat seems better. Pumpkin is not throwing up (and she is avoiding a certain dry food she used to love). Everest does not have a runny nose. Christine’s allergies have seemed to clear. So many blessings!! Be well as well. Heartfelt thanks." - Karen F.

The Jimmy Mack Healing Radio Show

EVERY TUESDAY at 9pm EDT / 6pm PDT CALL (206) 806-9965 https://www.freeconferencecall.com/wall/goldylocksproductions **Starting in May, the LIVE radio show will move to 4pm Eastern/1pm Pacific

Click Here for Previous Weeks' Show and a full archive of past guests & replays.

Yesterday's Show - Special Guest Psychic Joanne Leo www.PsychicJoanneLeo.com Astrology, Numerology, Angel cards. Readings from the heart!

April 14th Judi Thomases http://www.starladyastrologer.com/ Astrology Deep but gentle cosmic guidance

April 21st Mark Hernandez http://www.peopleandpetsenergetics.com Healer and Intuitive Message

April 28th Rev Debbie Dienstbier Visit her Facebook page Our resident trans medium communications with your loved ones in spirit.

The Jimmy Mack Healing Show is LIVE on Tuesday Nights at 9pm EDT If you want to Listen in only, go to this website: https://www.freeconferencecall.com/wall/goldylocksproductions OR If you want to call in & ask a question CALL (206) 806-9965 No need to press #1, just dial in and you'll be in the queue. If the Call in Number above doesn’t seem to work, please use this back up Call in Number: (425) 535-9149 when prompted, enter 206.806.9965 followed by # International Callers, click the link below for the International call in list for your country. If you're using the Free Conference Call App, it automatically re-routes the best call In number for you. Please unblock your phone number if you wish to speak with Jimmy and or his guest host. Blocked, Restricted and Private Callers are not brought on air.

Sessions at the Tampa Office

FRIDAY KODAWARI YOGA STUDIOS *Appointments are either phone or Skype until further notice

I'm scheduling 15 and 30 minute appointments at Kodawari Yoga Studios from 10am-2pm EVERY FRIDAY.*IMPT! You must call Kodawari directly to schedule times and dates with them AND pay them directly at the front desk prior to your appointment Call Kodawari's front desk directly to schedule (813) 773-4017 and pay at the concierge desk PRIOR to your appointment - 15 minutes 38$ or 30 minutes 68$. 3965 Henderson Blvd Suite C Tampa (813) 773-4017 http://www.kodawariyoga.com/

SWANN HOLISTIC HEALTH TAMPA (no in office appointments April 10th - phone only) I’ll be offering sessions at Dr. Charla Tempone’s office at Swann Holistic Health Solutions at: NEW LOCATION! 403 S. Habana Ave. Tampa, FL 33609 Just south of Azeele next to Skin Savvy Please call their office directly at (813) 873-7773 in order to get on the schedule for 15-minutes 38$ / 30-minutes 68$ http://www.ctholisticsolutions.com

Receive 24/7 Prayers from Jimmy

Nightly prayers include COVID-19 known as the Coronavirus. Each night we work on scrambling the frequency for everyone on the prayer list. Your name will be added to a special VIP Prayer list where Jimmy will use his intelligent computer software, src4you which runs 24/7, to delete the negative and increase the strength of the positive creating a higher probability of favorable outcomes for you.

In addition, throughout the full 30-days, Jimmy will be dialing into your energetic signature each day upon rising and make certain that you are a clear yes, unclear to no and running forward before you start your day. He is doing the heavy lifting for you around 3am NY time while most of you are asleep in order to smooth out your way and increase your most favorable life outcomes.

The 30-day service is now being offered exclusively and you also have the option of selecting an ongoing subscription ($95/month) which is managed through PayPal only.

Upon written email request, for each new order we offer a one-time email analysis via the intelligent healing software that Jimmy uses on your behalf. Most clients have had amazing results and outcomes!

You can add yourself and those living in your immediate household and yes you can include pets! Merely include everyone’s names and Jimmy will add them to his daily prayers. *NOTE if the MDP Service was purchased via a special telesummit or radio show offer, prayers will be limited to BUYER ONLY - and will not include family members or pets.

You can run this monthly and stop at any time after the 30 days is up, you will have the opportunity to renew and update your list each month but are under no obligation. I believe you will experience magical transformations and make progress every day!

**Can't See The Full Email? Click Here to View Online**

Go deep sea "fishing" with Jimmy!

Level 1 is open to ANYONE at anytime! All Mastery Students: Check your email & Login to view all the newly upgraded content including new books and audios!

"Jimmy's My Liquid Fish Change Made Simple program is AMAZING!!! He gives you not only videos so you can see the changes within people, but also the books he's written as well! On top of that he's provided all the links and visuals you need so ANY type of learner can do it!! I appreciated having it to download in a PDF so I can go back to it any time, plus the books and ACTUAL healing sessions so you see, know and understand the whole process even better!!Highly recommend to ANYONE looking to change and make not only their life... but everyone's around them better as well!!" - E.J. / Florida

The Certificate of Mastery Program includes 2 best-selling ebooks and 2 clearing audios plus written & video instructions, AND one-on-one time with Jimmy ALL for about the cost of a single 1-hr session! This online course is for anyone who is familiar with OR new to "fishing" and is ready to dive into the deep end & get results that are beyond the ordinary! It includes The Tackle Box & The Dowser's Handbook ebooks PLUS 2 MP3s "Clearing Dark Energies" & "Increasing Your Intuition" to help clear, strengthen and prepare your energy field for optimal “fishing” results. This is a work-at-your-own-pace curriculum that will TEACH & CLEAR you at the same time! In under 2wks you will be finished with the program and ready to fish on your own with greater results! Level II offers Practitioner Certification for those who qualify.

LEARN MORE HERE

For those who aren't familiar, here's the list of the MyBeliefWorks™ audio library.

Find a topic that addresses your issue(s), click on the link to read more. We had a lot of help downloading & channeling these over the years & they keep getting better. Don't forget... you can share these with you immediate friends and family.

Abundance Abuse Addiction Body Scan: Head to Toe COVID-19 Daily GPS Reset Dark Energies/Fears Decision Making Diet & Exercise Education & Learning Family & Relatives The Gold Coin Healing Physical Body Healing Mental Stress Holiday Stress

Increasing Intuition IRS & Tax Time Love & Romance Money Mindset Moving Forward Pain Relief Pet Healing Sales & Success Improving Sex Improving Sleep Traveling w/Ease Work & Career Weight Loss Windfall Youth & Vitality

TGIFunny

Forward

Jimmy Mack | Appointments Skype: Jimmy.Mack55 Clearwater Florida USA Book a 15 minute session Book a 30 minute session Book a 60 minute session Transformational Healing of Body, Mind & Spirit, People, Places, Pets & Situations! Download the My Liquid Fish® Starter Kit (*Updated May 2019) Audio MP3 Downloads and books to improve your life! Get Certified in My Liquid Fish® Change Made Simple® Watch Free Videos on YouTube Weekly Radio Show Archives Shop for Supplements http://www.jimmymackhealingshop.com www.jimmymackhealing.com Copyright ©1998-2020 All Rights Reserved

-------------------------------------------------- TGIW newsletter managed by: Sandy Bidinger Digital Marketing Specialist at SMBeConnected Solutions www.smbeconnected.com

Stay connected!

Our mailing address is: Clearwater Florida 33756 USA

0 notes

divinefishingtips · 5 years ago

Text

TGIWednesday and a download for rising above it all

TGIWednesday News

TGIWednesday Download

LIVE Appearances - Free Healing

Fish Food

The Daily Bread To Feed The Fish

Tell The Fish: 365 Daily Inspirations & Affirmations

From the Fish Box

The Jimmy Mack Healing Radio Show

EVERY TUESDAY at 9pm EDT / 6pm PDT CALL (206) 806-9965 https://www.freeconferencecall.com/wall/goldylocksproductions **Starting in May, the LIVE radio show will move to 4pm Eastern/1pm Pacific

Click Here for Previous Weeks' Show and a full archive of past guests & replays.

Yesterday's Show - Special Guest Psychic Joanne Leo www.PsychicJoanneLeo.com Astrology, Numerology, Angel cards. Readings from the heart!

April 14th Judi Thomases http://www.starladyastrologer.com/ Astrology Deep but gentle cosmic guidance

April 21st Mark Hernandez http://www.peopleandpetsenergetics.com Healer and Intuitive Message

April 28th Rev Debbie Dienstbier Visit her Facebook page Our resident trans medium communications with your loved ones in spirit.

Sessions at the Tampa Office

FRIDAY KODAWARI YOGA STUDIOS *Appointments are either phone or Skype until further notice

Receive 24/7 Prayers from Jimmy

The 30-day service is now being offered exclusively and you also have the option of selecting an ongoing subscription ($95/month) which is managed through PayPal only.

**Can't See The Full Email? Click Here to View Online**

Go deep sea "fishing" with Jimmy!

Level 1 is open to ANYONE at anytime! All Mastery Students: Check your email & Login to view all the newly upgraded content including new books and audios!

LEARN MORE HERE

For those who aren't familiar, here's the list of the MyBeliefWorks™ audio library.

TGIFunny

Forward

-------------------------------------------------- TGIW newsletter managed by: Sandy Bidinger Digital Marketing Specialist at SMBeConnected Solutions www.smbeconnected.com

Stay connected!

Our mailing address is: Clearwater Florida 33756 USA

0 notes

365dailyaffirmations · 5 years ago

Text

TGIWednesday and a download for rising above it all

TGIWednesday News

TGIWednesday Download

LIVE Appearances - Free Healing

Fish Food

The Daily Bread To Feed The Fish

Tell The Fish: 365 Daily Inspirations & Affirmations

From the Fish Box

The Jimmy Mack Healing Radio Show

EVERY TUESDAY at 9pm EDT / 6pm PDT CALL (206) 806-9965 https://www.freeconferencecall.com/wall/goldylocksproductions **Starting in May, the LIVE radio show will move to 4pm Eastern/1pm Pacific

Click Here for Previous Weeks' Show and a full archive of past guests & replays.

Yesterday's Show - Special Guest Psychic Joanne Leo www.PsychicJoanneLeo.com Astrology, Numerology, Angel cards. Readings from the heart!

April 14th Judi Thomases http://www.starladyastrologer.com/ Astrology Deep but gentle cosmic guidance

April 21st Mark Hernandez http://www.peopleandpetsenergetics.com Healer and Intuitive Message

April 28th Rev Debbie Dienstbier Visit her Facebook page Our resident trans medium communications with your loved ones in spirit.

Sessions at the Tampa Office

FRIDAY KODAWARI YOGA STUDIOS *Appointments are either phone or Skype until further notice

Receive 24/7 Prayers from Jimmy

The 30-day service is now being offered exclusively and you also have the option of selecting an ongoing subscription ($95/month) which is managed through PayPal only.

**Can't See The Full Email? Click Here to View Online**

Go deep sea "fishing" with Jimmy!

Level 1 is open to ANYONE at anytime! All Mastery Students: Check your email & Login to view all the newly upgraded content including new books and audios!

LEARN MORE HERE

For those who aren't familiar, here's the list of the MyBeliefWorks™ audio library.

TGIFunny

Forward

-------------------------------------------------- TGIW newsletter managed by: Sandy Bidinger Digital Marketing Specialist at SMBeConnected Solutions www.smbeconnected.com

Stay connected!

Our mailing address is: Clearwater Florida 33756 USA

0 notes

advancedthetapractitioner · 5 years ago

Text

TGIWednesday and a download for rising above it all

TGIWednesday News

TGIWednesday Download

LIVE Appearances - Free Healing

Fish Food

The Daily Bread To Feed The Fish

Tell The Fish: 365 Daily Inspirations & Affirmations

From the Fish Box

The Jimmy Mack Healing Radio Show

EVERY TUESDAY at 9pm EDT / 6pm PDT CALL (206) 806-9965 https://www.freeconferencecall.com/wall/goldylocksproductions **Starting in May, the LIVE radio show will move to 4pm Eastern/1pm Pacific

Click Here for Previous Weeks' Show and a full archive of past guests & replays.

Yesterday's Show - Special Guest Psychic Joanne Leo www.PsychicJoanneLeo.com Astrology, Numerology, Angel cards. Readings from the heart!

April 14th Judi Thomases http://www.starladyastrologer.com/ Astrology Deep but gentle cosmic guidance

April 21st Mark Hernandez http://www.peopleandpetsenergetics.com Healer and Intuitive Message

April 28th Rev Debbie Dienstbier Visit her Facebook page Our resident trans medium communications with your loved ones in spirit.

Sessions at the Tampa Office

FRIDAY KODAWARI YOGA STUDIOS *Appointments are either phone or Skype until further notice

Receive 24/7 Prayers from Jimmy

The 30-day service is now being offered exclusively and you also have the option of selecting an ongoing subscription ($95/month) which is managed through PayPal only.

**Can't See The Full Email? Click Here to View Online**

Go deep sea "fishing" with Jimmy!

Level 1 is open to ANYONE at anytime! All Mastery Students: Check your email & Login to view all the newly upgraded content including new books and audios!

LEARN MORE HERE

For those who aren't familiar, here's the list of the MyBeliefWorks™ audio library.

TGIFunny

Forward

-------------------------------------------------- TGIW newsletter managed by: Sandy Bidinger Digital Marketing Specialist at SMBeConnected Solutions www.smbeconnected.com

Stay connected!

Our mailing address is: Clearwater Florida 33756 USA

0 notes

mldrgrl · 7 years ago

Text

A Fish Tale

by: mldrgrl Rating: PG Summary: Hank has a visitor as he prepares for the nuptials

It was times like these that Hank wished he’d still smoked. He’d drummed his fingers on top of the desk in Karen’s office so much that he’d even annoyed himself and he had to stop. The piece of paper in front of him was still blank after almost an hour of trying to fill it.

He thought it would be easy to write his vows. Well, not his vows, per se, but whatever one would call that part of the ceremony where the bride and groom might want to say something about each other. He had so many things he wanted to say, but they just wouldn’t come out. Part of the problem might be that for one of the first times in his life, he held what he felt for Stella as something sacred and something private. God knows when it came to the other women in his life, especially Karen, he was known to overshare.

Maybe the difference was how reserved Stella was to begin with. He had coaxed her out of her shell through the years, but she had also taught him the benefits of privacy. There were things that only the two of them knew, things that he didn’t even tell Karen about, and he was known to tell Karen everything, and that made him feel more bonded with her than anyone else. Still, he felt compelled, and the empty piece of paper mocked him.

Desperate for a diversion, he searched Karen’s desk for something to toy with. He found a neon green Bic lighter at the bottom of one of the drawers and his spirits brightened in the hopes he might find a loose cigarette to go with it. No such luck. Even the lighter was old and useless, barely giving off a few sparks when he tried to fire it up. The impatience of it all sort of made him wish he’d invited Charlie after all. Charlie could always come up with a distraction, though their influence on each other was the very reason he didn’t want his little folically challenged friend around today.

There was a knock on the frame of the open door behind him and Hank spun around in his chair to see Fish wearing a wide grin and a hideous red and white Hawaiian shirt. The Trout was probably the last person in the house he wanted to see, but he still welcomed the distraction.

“Fish,” Hank said, flicking the sparkwheel of the lighter in his hand with his thumb, trying in vain to release his pent up anxiety.

“Hank, my man,” Fish answered. The enthusiasm in the greeting was grating to Hank.

“What’s up?”

“Beckster traded the rings with your lovely lady.” Fish tossed a small jewelry box at Hank which he caught with his left hand.

“Thanks.”

Fish strutted over to the other side of the room and stretched as he looked out the window. Hank turned slowly to watch him, his thumbnail scratching lightly at the two tiny hinges on the jewelry box. His ring finger had been itching since he'd taken his ring off and given it to Becca. He wondered if Stella felt just as odd without hers as he did. It has so quickly become a part of him.

“Gorgeous day,” Fish said. “You picked a good one.”

Hank made a noise of agreement and Fish moved away from the window to take a seat on the other side of the desk across from Hank.

“Karebear sent me in to make sure you weren't shittin’ bricks,” Fish said.

“Nerves of steel,” Hank answered.

“That’s good. I wouldn’t want to have to slap some sense into ya.”

“Why, Fish, I didn't know you liked me like that.”

“I’ll go tell Karebear you’re cool as a cucumber.”

Fish rose part way up from his chair, but Hank waved him back down. He toyed with the lighter again and then dropped it onto the desk to open up the jewelry box and look at Stella’s ring. He touched the little diamonds with a reverence that made his chest swell. The box snapped shut with a little click when he closed his hand into a fist.

“I wanted to write something for Stella,” Hank said. “Something to say before we make our vows.”

“Yeah?”

“I just can’t...I can’t seem to think right now.”

“You want to hear about my grandparents?”

“Not really.”

“Married 62 years. Happy as fuckin’ clams. Five kids. My dad was the second in line a year after my Aunt Pam.”

“Is there an exam later? Should I write this down?”

“You’re a real wiseass, Moody.”

“So I’ve been told.” Hank set the jewelry box down on the desk and sat back in his chair, lacing his fingers together at the back of his head and and closing his eyes. “Go ahead. You were planting the seeds of the Fish family tree for me. Aunt Pam, followed by dear old dad.”

“Three years in, my grandpops gets called up to serve.”

“World War II?”

“Yep. Navy. Spent most of his service in the Pacific Islands, but never saw combat. His unit built airfields and roads and hospitals. He spent exactly 34 months away from grandma and my dad and Aunt Pam and to hear him talk about it, you’d think it was 34 years.”

“I’m sure it was rough.”

“He was a poet. Not professionally or anything like that, but he was a poet at heart. He wrote my grandma a poem every day he was away from her. One thousand twenty-six of them altogether.”

“Your grandmother kept them?”

“Oh, sure. Pasted them into a couple scrapbooks that my aunt Pam inherited.”

Hank opened his eyes and blinked up at the ceiling. “Sorry, Fish, but I’m afraid I’ve missed the point.”

“I haven’t made it yet.”

“Oh.”

“When he got back home, he asked my grandma did she get the poems and she said yes. He asked, did you like them and she confessed she never read them. He asked her why she never read the told her he had written her one every day so that she would know how much he loved her. She told him she already knew how much he loved her because he wrote her every day, not because of what he wrote.”

“That was a very roundabout way of telling me that actions speak louder than words.”

“I teach by example.”

“It’s actually a beautiful story. Is it true?”

“I can take you over to my Aunt Pam’s place to read the journals.”

“Journals?”

“Every year on their anniversary, grandpops would give grandma a new journal of the poems he’d written throughout the year. She passed away a few years before him, but he still filled the pages.”

Hank actually felt a little choked up at the end of Fish’s story. He could be a real sucker for romance like that. Hadn't he spent most of his life looking for a love like that? He thought he had it with Karen once upon a time, and then he didn't. When he really reflected on his time with her, what they'd had was a lot of passion and drama with extreme emotional highs and lows. What he had with Stella was more balanced. There was passion, to be sure, but their daily life was more even keeled. He always thought calm meant boring, but calm actually felt safe and warm and lovely.

“Have you ever read any of the poems?” Hank asked.

“Nah. Didn't seem right.”

Hank nodded in agreement. He was curious as hell to see what could come out of someone on a day to day basis like that. It was the only thing that he found truly daunting sometimes about getting married - what if one day you discover there's absolutely nothing left to discover? Then what? Maybe those poems were Fish’s grandfather’s reminder of what once was. Or maybe he really did have something new to say every day. It was a nice thought.

“Well, I'll get out of your hair,” Fish said. He stood, stretched, and then came over to clap Hank on the shoulder. “You're a good dude, Moody. Even if you're a wiseass.”

“Thanks, Fish.”

After Fish left, Hank stared at the blank paper in front of him again. He picked up a pen and poised it over the first line. ‘Stella,’ he wrote. What followed was a stream of consciousness that, as a narrative, completely lacked cohesion and form. His disjointed thoughts tumbled out, one after the other, so that a sentence like ‘I realized I loved you when I didn't want to let go of your hand or go back to New York,’ was followed by ‘Do you remember when you dripped duck sauce on your thigh and let me lick it off?’

His hand cramped and he filled six pages before there was another knock on the door and Becca came up behind him.

“Sun is starting to set,” she said. “Mom told me to come get you.”

Hank looked at his messy, smudged pages and ink stained hand. He didn't know where the time had gone. He thought he would have more time. He wanted to shower and change and revise his pages and he still wasn't quite finished.

“Dad?” Becca asked.

“Yeah, I’ll…” He stopped, panic racing through his bloodstream and making him sweat. He didn’t know what to say, but he wasn’t ready.

The End

#i wrote this #hanella #wedding countdown #hank/stella #The Fall #Californication

108 notes · View notes

bamby0304 · 7 years ago

Text

The Hart: Chapter One

Summary: When Lizzie was just a few months old, she lost her father. Fifteen years later she lost her mother, and then her sister. Now in her early twenties Lizzie spends her days and nights hunting things and saving people. When the Winchesters meet the bright eyed and bubbly blonde they don’t realise what they’re in for… and neither does she…

Part Four: Daphne, Fred and Velma.

Masterlist

Warnings: Nope...

Bamby

EPOV

I sat next to Dean, the two of us looking over the newspaper as Sam walked up to our table, juggling three coffees.

I'd been with the guys for a week now. The three of us got along pretty well, and I'd actually been having an enjoyable time. Sam reminded me of the person I used to be, while Dean was more like the person I was now

"There you go." Sam nodded, placing a coffee in front of each of us.

"Anthony Giles." Dean turned the paper over to show Sam the possible case we'd found.

"Who's Anthony Giles?" Sam asked.

"A Baltimore lawyer. Working late at his office." Dean answered, gesturing to the paper. "Check it out."

Sam put his coffee to the side as he grabbed the paper and gave the article a quick read. "His throat was slit, but the room was clean. Huh... no DNA, no prints."

Dean nodded. "Keep reading. It gets better."

Sam frowned curiously as he read a quote from the article. "'Security cameras failed to capture footage of the assailant.'"

"Looks to me like we have another ghost on our hands." I grinned excitedly.

Dean shook his head, turning to me with an amused smile. "I have never met a chick who loves this job as much as you."

I shrugged, grabbing my takeaway coffee cup. "You've never met a chick like me, period." I winked before taking a drink off my coffee.

Sam chuckled lightly. "You two need a room?"

Ignoring him, Dean shrugged. "So what do you think, Velma? Check it out?"

I scoffed. "You think I'm Velma? I'm so Daphne. Hell, I'm probably Fred."

"No, I'm Fred, your Daphne, he's Velma." Dean grinned as he turned to Sam.

Sam went from amused as he listened to the two of us, to insulted by Dean's words, all in matter of seconds. But he didn't respond, because he didn't have time. Before Sam could even open his mouth, Dean was out of his seat and headed for the Impala.

Offering Sam a kind smile, I got to my feet and nodded for him to follow. "Don't worry. I always got the impression your brother was more like Shaggy."

...

Dean, Sam and I were seated at the dining table in the Giles home as we posed as investigators from an insurance company. The three of us were dressed in suits, which I thought looked good on the guys, but I hated my pencil skirt. I was very much a jeans girl.

"Insurance." Karen- the victim's wife- shook her head as she looked down at the form in front of her. "I totally forgot about the insurance."

"We're very sorry to bother you right now, but the company is required to conduct its own investigation." Sam explained to her, lying through his teeth. "You understand?"

"Sure." the look in her eyes told me she was clearly still coping with her loss, and I knew she would be sometime.

It reminded me of how I felt when I lost my family. When I lost the people I cared most about... We'd been a tight group the three of us. The day they were ripped from this world was the day I turned my back on the person I was and became the person sitting at the table pretending to be an investigator with two men I hardly knew.

Sam nodded, willing to press on now. "Okay. Now, if you could just tell us anything you remember about the night your husband died."

"Uh, Tony and I were supposed to have dinner." Karen started, looking to Sam. "He called and said that he was having computer trouble, and he had to work late. That was it."

Dean was to my right while Karen was on my left at the end of the table. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a small packet of tissues which I offered her as I gave a small smile. "Do you know if there was anyone that could have done this? Anyone who had a disagreement with your husband?" I asked gently.

She took one of the tissues, shaking her head. "No. No, it's like I told the police, I have no idea." she sniffled, trying to keep herself calm.

"Did Tony mention anything unusual to you the days before his death?" Dean asked, trying to be sensitive, but coming off as odd.

"Unusual?" Karen asked, confused.

"Yeah, like strange." Dean added.

She shook her head, still very confused. "Strange?"

"You know, Karen, weird." Dean elaborated. "Weird noises, visions, anything like that?"

I kicked him under the table. He groaned at the impact but quickly turned it into a cough to cover it up as I turned back to Karen. "What he's trying to say is, if there's anything else you haven't told us. Even the smallest or oddest detail may help." I gave her a light smile.

"He had a nightmare the day before he died. Could that help?"

"Anything and everything can help." I nodded. "Can you tell us anything about the nightmare?"

"He said that he woke up in the middle of the night. And there was a woman standing at the foot of the bed. He blinked, she was gone." she explained. "But it was just a nightmare."

Dean gave a soft and short scoff of amusement before he spoke again. "Did he say what she looked like?"

Karen turned to him, her confusion back as she frowned. "What the hell difference does it make what she looked like?" the change in her tone made it clear she wasn't exactly trusting these questions and where the conversation was going.

I acted quickly, hoping to get her back to trusting us. "Our company's very thorough. We just ask the questions they give us. We don't even know why half of them matter."

Karen hesitated a moment as she looked from Dean and Sam before turning to me. It was obvious she trusted Sam and I more than Dean. But I didn't blame her really. "He said she was pale and she had dark red eyes."

Nodding, I reached over and rested a hand on hers. "Thank you for all your help and time. We'll get back to you as soon as we hear something new. Until then..." I pulled out a fake business card with my real number. "Please feel free to call me if you think of anything else that might help." I offered her one last kind smile before Dean, Sam and I stood and left the house.

We walked down the path from the front door to the road, heading for the Impala, which was parked in front of the Giles' home.

I loved the car. The first time I'd seen it hadn't been a fun time, with Ellen being so pissed and disappointed. But after a few days with the guys, and once I was feeling a little less shitty about the fact I'd upset the only family I had, I could finally appreciate the car. She was a beauty. A '67 Chevy. Sleek and black. Cream coloured leather interior. If sex was a car, she was it.

"Did you have to kick me so hard?" Dean asked once we were out of ear shot from the house.

"Did you have to sound so crazy?" I asked, turning so I was walking backwards, facing the brothers. "I thought you said you'd been doing this job for years. There's this thing called sympathy, Dean. You lost your mum and dad. You know what it feels like." I noted.

Sam had told me about how their family had become hunters. How his mother had been killed by a demon when he was a baby and now they were trying to find and kill it. He told me how they'd only lost their dad a few of months ago and that he died trying to get revenge for his wife.

It wasn't too far off of every other hunter's story, but it was different at the same time. Tragedy was always the reason why hunters became hunters.

Dean hadn't said anything about it yet. I guess he was still dealing with it more than Sam was. I understood how he felt though.

The brothers had asked what happened to me. They wanted to know why I started hunting, and I'd been willing to answer. The words had been on the tip of my tongue. But when I opened my mouth to speak, nothing came out.

There were exactly four people alive today who knew why I was the person I was. Ellen, Jo, Ash and Bobby Singer.

Bobby had taught me how to be a hunter and helped keep me alive. I lived with him on and off over the years. He fed me, clothed me, and kept me safe. He was my second dad, and I loved him. He was the first person I told my story to.

Bobby had directed me to the Roadhouse when I'd gone off to hunt one time. That's where I met Ellen. Once she found out I was Bobby's unofficial daughter, she took me under her wing. She was my second mum and helped me through the emotional pain I'd been bottling up. She was the second person I opened up to.

Jo and I hadn't clicked right away. My own sister and I had been best of friends, and it pained me to think of someone replacing her. But when she came back from school one day, clearly upset, I decided to open up to her so long as she opened up to me. She was the third person to know about my past.

Ash took a little while longer to warm up to. He was odd to say the least. But as years went by I warmed up to him. He helped me find cases, and was always willing to listen to whatever I needed to get off my chest- his crush on me did play a big part in that though. He was the fourth and last person I told my secret to.

"Look, let's just find a hotel, wait until dark and then check out Anthony's office." I suggested as I turned to face forward again, tugging on the coat I wore as we fell silent.

DPOV

Just like Liz had suggested, once it was dark the three of us headed for Anthony's office. Once Sam unlocked the door to Anthony's office, the three of us walked in, torches on as we went to started searching the place. We didn't get far before Sam stopped.

"Hey." he caught our attention, shining the light of his torch on to the blood-stained floor. "Anthony Giles' body was found right about here." he lifted the police report on the case as he read from it. "'Throat cut so deep, part of his spinal cord was visible."

I shook my head, moving further into the office. "What do you think? Vengeful spirit, underline vengeful?"

"Yeah, maybe." Sam shrugged. "I mean, he did see that woman at the foot of his bed."

I reached for a piece of paper that sat on the out tray of the printer, lifting it to read what it says. But what I found didn't make any sense to me. "Hey, look at this." I offered Sam the paper.

He took the paper. "Dana Shulps?" he asked. It was repeated over and over on the page, filling it completely. "What's that? A name?"

"It's here, too." Liz spoke up from where she stood by the printer. We turned to her as she showed us another sheet of paper that only read Dana Shulps.

"All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy." I laughed lightly.

"Uh... Guys..." Liz and I looked to Sam as he leaned closer to the glass desk and breathed on it. As she pulled back, she revealed the words Dana Shulps written on the glass. "I'd say we've officially crossed over into weird."

"Maybe Giles knew her." I shrugged.

"Or maybe it's the name of our pale, red-eyes mystery girl." Sam suggested.

Liz sighed, moving over to a filing cabinet. "Only one way to find out." she grabbed a bunch of filed and moved over to me, shoving them in my chest. "Time to get to work, boys."

EPOV

Dean slammed the draw of one of the filing cabinets, causing me to jump slightly. "There's not a single mention of a Dana Shulps anywhere." he noted, clearly not happy. "There's not a D. Shulps, or any other kind of friggin Shulps."

I pushed a file away from where I sat on the floor by the desk- and away from the dried blood on the floor. "I've got nothing either."

"Great." Sam mumbled.

"What you got?" Dean asked him.

But Sam just shook his head. "Nothing. No Dana Shulps has ever lived or died in Baltimore in the last fifty years, at least."

Dean sighed. "So, what now?"

"Well, I think I'm pretty close to cracking Giles' password. Maybe there's something in his personal files." Sam shrugged.

Dean perked up a little. "By close you mean...?"

"Thirty minutes maybe."

Looking at his watch Dean sighed again. "Awesome. So, I guess Elizabeth and I just get to hang out here then. Awesome." he dropped on to the chair on the opposite side of the desk where Sam was sitting. It took him less than a second before he was bored and started to make noises with his mouth.

Sam turned away from the computer and to his brother. "Dude, seriously."

"All right." Dean stood from the chair. "I'm gonna talk to Karen, see if she knows anything about this Dana Shulps." he turned to me. "You coming?"

"Nope." I answered, stretching my legs out on the ground, crossing one over the other. "I think I'll keep Sam company instead."

He looked slightly offended that I declined his offer, but recovered quickly. "Well, you two behave now. No funny business until after the job is done." he grinned as he headed for the door and left.

DPOV

I knocked on the green wooden door of the Giles' home. After a moment or two of silence, I leaned closer as I called out, "Karen you in there?" but there was no answer.

Pulling out my lock-pick kit, I got to work and successfully opened the door in no time before heading into the house. The lights were out. The place was silent. I was not getting a good feeling.

Reaching over, I tried to flick the light switch on, but it didn't work. This is not good...

After checking all the rooms downstairs and coming up with nothing, I started for the second floor. All the doors were closed upstairs, except for one. One was slightly ajar, leading into what appeared to be a bedroom.

I headed in that direction, opening the door to find Karen on the floor, dead.

"Oh, God." I moved closer to the body. Her neck had been cut just like Anthony's.

As I went to turn away, I noticed a printer to my right. Reaching over, I grabbed one of the printed sheets, having a pretty good idea at what I was going to find. Sure enough, just like in Anthony's office, Dana Shulps covered the page. It covered all the printed pages.

"Seriously, what the hell?" I sighed, putting the paper back.

My eyes landed on Karen again, which is when I noticed something odd. Crouching down by the body, I reached for her arm and turned it over, seeing bruises wrapped around her wrist. Anthony's report hadn't mentioned anything like that...

"Freeze." the sound of a gun cocking behind me had me turn around. There, in the doorway, was a police woman and man. "Stay on your knees." the woman warned. "Hands where I can see them. Now!"

Having no choice but to listen, I let go of Karen and turned, lifting my hands in the air before I felt the familiar cold metal of cuffs locking on to my wrists."

EPOV

"Somethings not right..."

I looked up at Sam from where I was sitting on one of the two double beds in our hotel room, my legs crossed in front of me as I looked through some paper work. "Everything okay, Sam?"

He shook his head, getting up from where he sat at the table. "Dean should be back by now. Or he should have at least called."

"So... What are we thinking?" I asked, unfolding my legs before I climbed off the bed. "Because by the look on your face, you're thinking something serious happened."

He nodded, moving to grab his bag. "Start packing."

"What?" I frowned, confused. "You're not making much sense right now, Sam. Care to explain what's going on, or do I have to start guessing?" I asked, even as I did what I was told and started to pack.

"If Dean isn't back and hasn't called it means two things. One, he's dead. Two, he's been caught." he explained, shoving his things into a bag.

"Caught by who?"

"My guess? The cops."

I spun around to look at him then. "The cops?!"

He gave a slight shrug as he avoided looking at me. "Yeah, Dean's kinda wanted… for murder..."

"What the hell do you mean he's wanted for murder?" I snapped as I continued to pack my bag.

"It wasn't him. It was a shapeshifter, which we killed. But it was wearing Dean's face, so if he's been arrested, we have to get out of here. If the police do have him, it's only a matter of time before they come here."

Finished packing, I grabbed my bag and pulled it over my shoulder as I headed for the door. "You know it would have been nice to know this before I started hunting with the two of you." I noted, shaking my head and leaving the room. "I'll meet you at the car." I called to him.

I liked Dean and Sam, I really did. They were different from other hunters. They were fun and pretty easy going at times. They were good at the job, and knew a lot more than some other hunters. They knew when to goof around and when to be serious. It was hard not to like them.

But that did not mean I was willing to go down with them. Not to prison. Nope. Die? Yes. I'd die on the job. It was a risk I'd been taking for years. But to be locked up in a cage with no freedom or free will? Nope, that was not happening.

At the same time, I wasn't leaving the guys. I wasn't the kind of person to turn their back on friends. I stuck with the people I had until we were out of the mess we'd gotten ourselves in. If that meant I had to stick with Sam and help him get Dean free, then that's what I'd do.

Self-survival was important, sure. But I understood the need for others sometimes, and I was more than willing to help if that meant the favour would be returned later.

As I hurried down the stairs and headed for the Impala, I came to a stop at the sight of police vehicles coming down the road. The vehicles stopped at the hotel and I knew in an instant who they were here for.

"Shit." looking around, I played it cool as I headed for the nearest car- which was thankfully unlocked.

Throwing my bag in the back, I then got in the driver's seat and pretended to fix up my hair and makeup as I watched the police climb out of their vehicles. One of them- a female- headed into the head office for a moment or two before exiting and leading the rest of them to the stairs as they moved towards the room Sam, Dean and I had been staying in.

"Shit." I repeated, moving to hotwire the car and get the hell out of there.

DPOV

"Well..." Pete Sheridan- the male detective that had been questioning me since I got to the station- walked back into the interrogation room where I was sitting on a chair, cuffed to the table. "First I thought you were just stepping up your game." he took a seat across from me. "Credit card fraud, breaking and entering. Now, this one puzzled me. Grave desecration. But still, these are a long way from murder. Then we get a fax from St. Louis. Where you're suspected of torturing and murdering a young woman.

"However, no one could prove anything, of course, because, supposedly, you died there." he shook his head. "But I gotta tell you something. You look pretty healthy to me." getting up he moved to lean against the table next to me. "So now we know Karen Giles wasn't the first person you murdered. But I guarantee you, she's the last." he said before standing up and walking back out of the room.

Things weren't looking too good...

SPOV

I was in an interrogation room, standing by the window, looking out. I was worried about Dean and I was worried about Lizzie. I knew why they had Dean and me here, which is exactly why I was worried about us. But I had no idea where Lizzie was.

She'd left the room just in time. She'd gotten away. Thankfully. I just hoped she stayed away. For her own good.

Diana Ballard -the female detective that had arrested me last night- walked into the room, placing a coffee on the table. "Thought you might be thirsty." she offered a light smile.

"Okay, so you're the good cop. Where's the bad cop?"

"Oh, he's with you brother." she answered without hesitation.

"Okay. And you're holding us why?" I asked, trying to play dumb.

"He's being held on suspicion of murder. And you? We'll see."

"Murder?"

"You sound genuinely surprised. Or are you that good of an actor?"

"Who is he supposed to have murdered?" I asked, dodging her question.

"We'll get around to that."

"You can't just hold us here without formal charges." I argued.

"Well, actually, we can for forty-eight hours. But you, being a pre-law student, would know that." she pointed out. "I know all about you, Sam." she started, grabbing a file as she began to read from it. "You're twenty-three years old, no job, no home address. Your mother died when you were a baby. Your father's whereabouts are unknown. And then there's the case of your brother, Dean. Whose demise was, well, just a little bit exaggerated.

"Feel free to jump in whenever you like." when I didn't say anything, and instead continued to lean on the wall with my arms folded over my chest, she went on. "Shy? No problem, I'll keep going. Your family moved around a lot when you were a kid. Despite that, you were a straight-A student. Got into Stanford with a full ride." she closed the file and turned to me. "Then, about a year ago, there was a fire in your apartment. One fatality, Jessica Moore, your girlfriend. After she died, you fell off the grid. Left behind everything."

"I needed some time off." I explained. "To deal. So I'm taking a road trip with my brother."

"How's that going for you?"

"Great." I shrugged. "I mean, we saw the second largest ball of twine in the continental U.S." I grinned, moving to take a seat at the table- but not before turning the chair around as I sat on it backwards. "Awesome."

"We ran Dean's fingerprints through AFIS."

"Okay."

"Got over a dozen possible hits."

I shrugged. "Possible hits. Which makes them worthless."

"But makes you wonder. What are we gonna find when we run your prints?"

I laughed. "Yeah. Well, uh, you be sure to let me know, all right?" I nodded to her before pointing to the coffee. "May I?"

She gave a short nod. "Please."

"Great." I grabbed the coffee, taking a sip from it.

Walking towards me, she sat on the table as she leaned over to look in my face. "Sam, you seem like a good kid. It's not your fault Dean's your brother. We can't pick our family. Right now, detectives in St. Louis are exhuming a corpse. They're trying to figure out how your brother faked his own death after torturing all those young women. Dean's a bad guy. His life is over. Yours doesn't have to be."

Lowering the takeaway coffee cup, I turned to her. "You want me to turn against my own brother?"

"No. We already caught him cold. Red-handed at the Karen Giles murder scene." she shrugged, getting off the table and moving over to the other side. "We just need you to fill in some missing pieces."

"Why would I do that?"

Taking a seat, he answered. "Because I can talk to the DA. Make a deal for you. You can get on with your life. Dean's as good as gone."

I pretended to think it over for a moment, just to keep her hooked and keep me on her good side, before I spoke again. "My dad and Tony Giles were old friends. They were in the service together. We've known him since we were kids, you know." I lied. "So we came when we heard about his death. So, wouldn't been kinda hard for Dean to kill Tony, considering we weren't in town."

"So, tell me what happened next."

The lies spilled from my lips so easy I almost believed them myself. "That's when we went to see Karen. She was barely holding it together. We just wanted to be there for her, you know. We went over to check on her, but she wasn't doing too good. We stayed for a while, tried to help as much as we could, but eventually we had to leave." I shrugged. "So I gave Karen a hug. Told her to call me if she needed anything, and that was it. End of story."

"Sam," Diana sighed, "I am trying to help you here. But you have got to be honest with me." she stood from her chair. "Now, we have an eyewitness. Someone who saw two men, fitting your and your brother's description, with an unknown female, breaking into Giles' office."

It was the first time there was any mention of Lizzie. I'd been hoping she hadn't been seen by anyone, or that no one had taken notice of her, that way the cops wouldn't look for her.

But I knew there was no hope in hoping. It was Lizzie we were talking about, and she got the attention of everyone... Now it was only a matter of time before she'd be pulled into the station as well.

"Look, Karen called us later, said there was stuff she wanted from Tony's office, but the police weren't letting her in." I kept going with the story. "It was like a picture of the two of them in Paris, and some other stuff. Look, it was wrong to enter a crime scene, but she gave us the key. We went to Tony's office, grabbed what she asked for and then Dean went back to check up on her. I mean, you know, she'd been pretty upset earlier."

"So why didn't you go with him? And who was the woman?" she gave me a knowing look. "Keep dodging her for as long as you want, Sam. I'm not ignoring the fact that there was a third person with you and your brother."

"She's a friend. We bumped into her at the hotel. She was passing through town. The three of us had dinner. Then we went to Anthony's office. Seeing as we rarely get to see her our friend tagged along. After that, I took her to her car to say good bye, Dean went to Karen's."

"And this friend's name is?"

"Hannah. Hannah Thomas." I answered, using the alias Lizzie had used with Karren. Unlike us, she didn't go for the rock star names.

"So you sent Hannah off and then went back to the hotel?"

"Yeah." I nodded before pausing a moment as I looked up at her. "How'd you know I was there, by the way?"

"We found the motel matchbook on your brother when we arrested him." she answered, pulling the mentioned match book from the evidence bag that sat in front of the file. Let's quit fooling around. Now, you were with your brother the whole time you were in Baltimore. Why separate now? Because your brother left to go murder Karen."

"He didn't kill anyone." I told her, keeping calm.

She on the other hand was getting pissed. "I heard the 911 call. Karen was terrified. She said someone was in the house."

I just shook my head. "Dean didn't kill anyone."

EPOV

I sat in a diner, in the corner, sipping on a coffee as I tried to think through the case and how I was going to save the guys. First thing I needed to do was figure out who Dana Shulps was. Or what it was...

I pulled out a pen and grabbed a napkin as I started writing down anagrams for Dana Shulps. Maybe it's a place? Maybe it's a code? Maybe it's a thing?

Groaning I looked up at the waitress as she passed me. "Hey, could I have another coffee please?"

"Sure thing, doll." she offered a gentle smile before she walked off.

I was going to need all the caffeine I could get. I didn't get any sleep last night, not with the stress of the case and the pressure of being on my own- hopefully that would change soon. I could deal with being alone for a while, but this case was proving to be a huge pain in my ass.

Yeah... I'm gonna need lots of coffee...

DPOV

I'd been trying to figure out what Dana Shulps might mean where there was a knock on the door before a balding man poked his head into the room.

"Mr Winchester?"

"Yeah."

He smiled, stepping into the room and closing the door. "I'm Jeff Krause. I'm with the public defender's office. I'm your lawyer."

"Oh, thank God, I'm saved." This guy isn't going to be able to do jack with my case. As he sat down, I nodded to the briefcase he'd placed on the table. "Hey, can I steal a pen from you, some paper?"

"Sure." he nodded, pulling out a pen form his pocket and some a piece of paper from the briefcase. "Well, the police haven't found a weapon yet, so that's good. But, uh, they got your prints and, literally, blood on your hands." he noted as I started writing down possible anagrams for Dana Shulps. "And with your police record... Mr Winchester, what are you doing?"

"I think it's an anagram." I answered, not really paying much attention to him.

"A what?"

"An anagram. Same letters, different words." I explained. "Could you do me a favour? See if you recognize any of these words. You know, local names, places, anything like that?" I shrugged, sliding a new piece of paper I'd just written on to him.

He looked at me as if I were stupid. "Do you understand how serious these charges are?"

I chuckled lightly, lifting my hands as much as I could. "I'm handcuffed to a table. Yeah, I get it. Humour me. Take a quick look."

Sighing, he grabbed the paper and gave it a once over. "Well, S-U-P, I don't know about that, but Ashland is a street name. It's not far from here." he shrugged, handing the paper over again.

"Street?"

He nodded before getting back to business. "Let's start with where you were the night that Anthony Giles died."

Ignoring him, I wrote down a message on a new sheet of paper. "Can you get in to see my brother?"

The lawyer shook his head. "Mr Winchester, you could be facing the death penalty here."

"Hey, thanks for the law review, Matlock." I ripped off the piece of paper with the note on it. "But if you wanna help me..." I folded the note, "I need you to see my brother."

SPOV

A lawyer had come into the interrogation room I was still holed up in, handing me a note he claimed was from Dean. One look from it, and I had no doubt it was from my brother.

Hilts-

It's a street Ashland.

- McQueen

"I hope that's meaningful." the lawyer shrugged. "But I'd like to discuss your case now."

"Sure thing, Matlock." I nodded, gesturing to the chair across from me.

"You two really are brothers, aren't you?" he sighed, taking a seat. "Now, as you know, the DA might be interested in-" before he could go on, there was a knock on the door.

Diana stepped in to the room, looking to the lawyer. "We need you. With the other one." was all she said before the two of them left, and suddenly I was alone.

Bamby

If you would like to be tagged please send an ask, and tell me what list you want to be added to, it’s just easier to organise this way :):)

Forever Tags:

@kellyn1604

#supernatural #supernatural fanfinction #supernatural fanfic #spn #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #dean winchester #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #sam winchester #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester fanfic #The Hart #Elizabeth Rose Hart

30 notes · View notes

upside-nwod · 8 years ago

Note

Yay!! You're back! Can you write something from Mike's pov about how much he appreciates his friends? This sounds dumb lol but I thought it'd be vague enough for you to do whatever you wanted with it. I trust your Suffer Brother capabilities

Um… this got a lot longer than I expected it to. Like a lot longer. And it just barely meets your qualifications? I just couldn’t stop and I don’t even know if I like it lol

Also I tried to use a Keep Reading tab but it’s not showing up for me, but is for some people? Sorry about that. I’m not sure how to fix it.

Available on AO3 here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/10977084/chapters/24442917

Mike awoke in a haze, head swimming. His dark eyes stared up into a pale ceiling that wasn’t his.

Disoriented, he attempted to sit up in order to examine his surroundings but was met with a wave of nausea before crashing back down into the bed he was occupying. As soon as his head landed on the stiff pillows he felt an inexplicable pounding in his head.

Mike waited for the pain to recede into more of a dull throbbing before shifting himself slowly back into a sitting position. The white room he sat in was a tad blurry but it didn’t take a genius to realize he was sitting in a hospital bed instead of his usual bottom bunk.

Upon this realization, he became painfully aware of the IV in his right hand, as well as, the steady beeping of his heart monitor, but muffled, as if it were coming from a tunnel. But that wasn’t all.

Mike Wheeler was always warm. His mother liked to joke that when he was a baby she never needed any blankets because he provided all the heat she needed. So he wasn’t surprised that his palm was a little sweaty, but he was surprised to see a tiny, but slender fingered hand perfectly interlaced with his. It felt so natural he hadn’t even noticed it when he woke up.

He craned his neck just past his peripheral vision to find El curled up in a chair at his bedside. Her knees were drawn up to her chest with a pillow nestled on the back of the chair. However, instead of a blanket covering her, his tan jacket tucked up under her chin, exposing her socked feet.

“She hasn’t left your side since you were admitted,” Karen Wheeler announced in a whisper as she creaked open the door to Mike’s hospital room, coffee in hand. “In fact,” she continued, “I’m pretty sure she stayed awake all night to make sure you were okay. Up until the nurse checked you this morning.”

Mike looked from El, to his mother, and back to El again. His chest warmed at the sight of her, but he could see the slight worry lines still creased in her sleep. He wondered whether they were because of him or because of the hospital’s resemblance to what he thought the lab was like.

“How long have I been asleep?” Mike asked, concern growing on his face.

“You were out like a light after your tests were over yesterday,” she smiled warmly at her son. It pained her to see him hurt like this and her blood boiled at the thought of those bullies, but he was already looking better and that made her spirits brighten. “The doctors said you have a moderate concussion so you’ll be in here for another night, but you can go home tomorrow. But you can’t go back to school until Monday,” she finished.

“Where’s everyone else?” He wondered. His noticed the absence of Ted, Holly, and Nancy.

“Oh, your father is staying home with Holly since we couldn’t find a babysitter, but he wanted to be here. He called the hospital several times for updates,” his mother shook her head. “Nancy is at school, but I’ll call the office and let them know to tell her about you waking up. I believe her and Jonathan wanted to bring the boys over after school, too, if you’re up for it.”

“Yeah, I’d love that,” he said.

“Well, that’s good because I don’t think you have much choice,” Karen laughed. “It was quite the debacle getting your little gang to leave the waiting room, but the chief has a way of getting his point across doesn’t he?”

“Yeah,” Mike agreed, then his brow furrowed. “But what about El? Why didn’t he take her home, too?”

Karen Wheeler raised an eyebrow at her son. He liked to think the eyebrow was saying, “Really? You really think Hopper is gonna win in an argument against her? Please.”

The tired boy chuckled to himself and thought back the day Will returned from The Upside Down and had to stay in the hospital for the week. He remembered how bewildered he was when he realized Dustin and Lucas had fallen asleep, meanwhile his leg had been pumping away on the linoleum while he chewed at his fingers for two hours, waiting for news about Will.

But that day will always be remembered as bittersweet. While he knew that while they got Will back, they had also lost Eleven temporarily. His hand reflexively squeezed hers, as if she would disappear again if he didn’t grip her tight. With that slight movement, El’s eyes fluttered open.

She looked at him with wide, puppy-dog eyes. Tears threatened her vision, but she refused to let them fall. Her lip quivered as she squeezed his hand back.

“Hi, El,” Mike smiled.

“Mike…” El choked back.

With that, Karen decided it was her time to exit and phone Ted, who was, surprisingly, the worry wart in these types of situations, to let him know all was well. But she decided to take a few minutes before telling the nurses, hoping to give him and El some time together.

“Do you remember?” El asked Mike quietly.

“Not really,” Mike winced as he touched the bandage over the back of his head.

“Mouthbreathers,” El whispered, looking down. Anger flashed in her eyes before she looked back to the bandaged dark-haired boy with concern.

Mike’s mouth tightened at the thought of the two boys she was referring to. He knew he was in here due to James and Troy, but he couldn’t remember exactly what happened. He remembered riding next to Lucas. Dustin and Will were bringing up the rear, and Max skated between both groups, slowing down and speeding up depending on the topic of conversation. Yet he had trouble recalling El’s presence, or lack-thereof.

“Do you know what happened?” He asked. “I can’t remember if we had met up with you yet,” he said feeling let down by his fuzzy memory.

After getting her bike for Christmas, El started meeting up with the boys at one of the intersections close to the school. The gang would ride around together for a bit talking about their day, planning their next campaign, or just playing around before going to their respective homes. But Mike couldn’t seem to pinpoint exactly where the accident occurred.

El nodded in response to his question, but continued to look down at their hands. Now both her hands were holding onto his left and she rubbed her thumb across his skin like he did with her, silently wishing she didn’t have to think about Mike getting hurt again.

Tears welled up in her eyes when she thought about the way his head smacked the pavement. How he hadn’t responded when Lucas shook him even though his eyes were open. Her breathing hitched when she remembered how he had vomited into a bag in the back of Hopper’s blazer.

“I don’t really remember much…” Mike said to himself, trailing off.

El’s head snapped up instantly and her caramel eyes met his inky ones. He recognized the fear showing itself on her face and immediately regretted opening his mouth. He regretted it even more so when she shut her eyes tight and rested her forehead on their interlocked hands.

He struggled to find the right words to comfort her. The only thing he could manage was stuttering, “I’m okay, though,” in a small voice.

El looked back up at the pale boy in the hospital bed and whispered.

“Promise?” She said.

“Promise,” Mike yawned.Without thinking, he scooted over on the bed and made room for El. He let go of her hand to pat the bed, inviting her to lie with him, hoping she would understand. She eagerly took the hint and scooted onto the bed next to him. It looked tight for two people, but they were relatively small kids so it wasn’t too bad. Besides, they enjoyed one another’s close proximity.

“I’m still kinda tired though and my mom said you didn’t sleep last night,” Mike continued.

El shook her head and looked down. “They hurt you,” she mumbled. “I was… worried,” she finished as she struggled to find the right word.

“Well,” he paused thinking of what to say, “thanks for making sure I was okay,” he smiled at her

With that, El gave him a tiny smile before nestling her head into his shoulder. While she was falling asleep, Mike reflected upon his friendship with the quiet girl who rested next to him.

This girl was one of the most selfless people he had ever met and she probably didn’t even realize it. She saved her friends and sacrificed herself without hesitation. But she still had so much to learn and Mike couldn’t wait to teach her.

Around 3:45 there was a commotion outside Mike’s hospital door. It swung open as four small bodies invaded the space. Lucas, Dustin, Will, and Max all swarmed the bed. They were inclined to envelope him and El a huge group hug before Jonathan and Nancy chimed in shouting at them to stop in unison.

The kids skidded to a halt at the edge of the bed. Mike and El were both awake now and well rested. Mike edged himself up a bit and El followed suit.

“Dude! We have to tell you what happened to Troy at school today,” Lucas said eagerly.

“Yeah, Max had this incredible idea,” Dustin grinned.

“It was nothing really. They had it coming,” their ginger-haired friend shrugged.

Mike smiled at his friends, grateful for their lively presence in the drab hospital room. He looked over at Jonathan and Nancy and thanked them with his eyes for bringing everyone and for staying to hangout with them.

“Wait, wait,” Mike held up his hands. “First I need you guys to tell me what happened in the first place. I don’t really remember anything. I just remember falling off my bike and I could hear Lucas saying my name, but I couldn’t see anything.”

Everyone was slightly taken aback by this news. Nancy spoke first.

“Wait, Mike…” she paused. “Are you saying you really don’t remember anything about how you ended up in here?”

“Not really…” Mike responded.

The gang went on to describe the events that transpired, in detail, to jog their leader’s memory. Apparently, the group had made it to the intersection they meet El at in town when they all started getting pelted with rocks by none other than Troy and James. While El could’ve stopped the rocks with her mind, her friends made it very clear when she returned that she was not to use her powers out in public unless they were sure no one else was around.

Normally, the kids would stay at the corner for awhile and chat before riding somewhere, but under the circumstances, they did their best to get the hell out of their as fast as they could.

They picked up the pace and pedaled away from their assailants but not before Troy knuckle-balled a full-sized stone and pegged it right between Mike’s bike spokes. He had been bringing up the rear making sure all of his friends were already moving towards safety.

When the rock hit, it jammed up Mike’s front tire causing him to flip over his handle bars and land hard on his back. The back of his head hit the pavement with a dull thud, his fluffy hair doing nothing to break the fall.

His friends whipped their heads around once they heard the crash of metal on pavement. It took El less than a second to dismount her bike, not caring if it was damaged by her recklessness, and get to Mike.

“Mike,” she whimpered, kneeling down in front of him. She held a hesitant hand out over his head, afraid to know what would happen if she touched him. Then she saw it; a small trickle of blood coming from where his head lay. It crept out from behind his sweaty head and moved like a slug down the pavement. Any and all rules were suddenly out the window.

Eleven stood at once and faced the attackers who were now holding their stomachs in an effort to calm their hysteria over “frog-face’s” landing.

She lowered her head slightly and did her best to concentrate on the boys despite the overwhelming fire that burned in her stomach. Then, the bits of stone and pebble around her began to shake, slowly at first, as if they were vibrating. Gradually, they picked up speed before rising up to eye level with her.

As the rocks glided up from the ground, Troy and James were completely shocked out of their stupor.

El’s dark eyes focused on Troy specifically and she knew he recognized her. Though her hair had grown out into short curls now she could tell, by the fear in his eyes that he remembered the quarry.

Before the bullies could scurry away, she released the rocks in a flurry of activity. Whether El’s intentions were simply to harm them, or she was still distracted by the unconscious boy behind her. The debris flew forward with such force it’s a wonder the boys across the street weren’t killed. The rocks impaled windows, set off car alarms, and would surely leave rough cuts and bruises on their attackers.

James’ jeans were shredded at the knee caps and he was crawling away to safety. Troy squealed as a stone, as flat and sharp as a dagger, cut across his shirt sleeve exposing the blood that now ran down his arm.

The flurry ended just as soon as it began and sure enough the two boys were rushing down the street, terrified. El turned back to Mike who was still on the ground being tended to by Lucas.

“Then we called the police and Chief Hopper brought you here himself,” Lucas finished.

“He said it was because pizza delivery guys are even faster than ambulances around here,” Dustin laughed.

“Wow…” Mike was at a loss for words. “El, I can’t believe you did that!” He exclaimed.

El simply shrugged her shoulders.

“Oh come on, dude,” Max said, playfully shoving El’s arm. “You totally kicked their asses.”

”I swear she almost killed Troy.” Will remarked. “Max was the only one who could calm her down,“ Will smiled at her and Max grinned sheepishly at the compliment adding her own comment about them being complete wastoids anyway.

“It was so cool,” Dustin pointed out.

As the excitement lulled, Mike finally asked. “So what happened to them at school today?”

To no one’s surprise, Max was quite the prankster. Immediately after the gang left the hospital the night of the incident, they went to their respective homes and they got straight to planning their revenge.

The plan was simple. Max would be the distraction. Her fiery hair and tomboyish style made her easy to pick out in a crowd and made her an even easier target for Troy’s bulling. Lucas would construct “the surprise.” Will would break into Troy’s locker during a “trip to the nurse” and hide the device. Dustin was in charge of the pudding.

Revenge was set for lunch, that way there would be more witnesses. The process was easy enough. Lucas had reconstructed a smaller version of their volcano that won them second place in the science fair a few years prior. It was made out of a two liter, baking soda, and a whole lot of rotten eggs.

Max had “accidentally” tripped Troy, causing him to freak out on her. Consequently, he was late for class and unable to get to his locker before lunch like usual. She knew if he got to his locker then, that he wouldn’t return to it for the rest of the day.

Will and Dustin slipped out of history class easily. Will ad perfected the art of looking sick and Dustin was his “buddy” to make sure he got to the nurse okay. Once the two liter was in place and set up, they waited for lunch.

Will, armed with Jonathan’s camera stuck his little head around the hall corner to make sure Troy was at his locker. The others followed suit, all gripping the wall tight in anticipation.

They watched as Troy lifted the tiny handle to his locker and Max shouted, causing the bully to turn around. Immediately, the two liter fell from the top of the boy’s locker. The pressure inside the bottle was so great that as soon as it hit the ground, it exploded.

The smell of rotten eggs flooded the school and soon everyone was rushing into the hallway to see what happened. There, in all his glory, stood Troy. Smelling like absolute shit, with bubbling pudding staining the back of his trousers, and the wall of lockers behind him.

“Troy shit himself!” Dustin screeched with laughter.

Soon enough, the entire hallway was in tears, even some teachers had to stifle their laughs.

The hospital room erupted in laughter. Even Nancy and Jonathan had to hold onto one another in support. Finally, Jonathan reached into his bag and handed some photographs to Will.

“Is this why you asked me how to use the dark room in the high school?” Jonathan laughed.

Will nodded, grinning.

“Here you go, Mike. I thought you might want some pictures of ‘the big event,” the younger Byers boy joked as he handed them to their bed-ridden friend.

Upon seeing the pictures, Mike started laughing again. His face grew redder and soon enough, he was laughing so hard he was gasping for breath and holding onto his gut.

He may be bullied by Troy, and it may even get worse when he returns to school. But he has something Troy never will; the love and support of great friends like these, even if their methods of being there for one another are unconventional. Like believing in monsters, jumping into quarries, or building the ultimate stink bomb.

#stranger things #stranger things fic #my writing #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #long post

12 notes · View notes