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solecize · 4 months

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𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (4)

ten years of being one and the same with jungkook as the country's it couple is the perfect disguise for the reality of a tumultuous relationship hidden behind the scenes.

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: a party at the notorious hotel azure, the hot-spot for the top names of south korea's entertainment industry, goes awry. in front of everyone, your relationship reaches it's breaking point - except, it doesn't. 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: idol!jungkook/female idol!reader and fictional versions of various idols 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄. idol au, on-and-off relationship, angst, i swear there's fluff, fake dating, and themes of first love, growing up, struggles with fame, and marriage (ish) 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. portrayal of a toxic couple (implications of emotional abuse and control), both main characters are very flawed, violence, infidelity, foul language, substance use (illegal drugs) 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄. based off of "you're losing me" by taylor swift. this is a fictional portrayal of real-life people that implement some aspects of real-life events. extra warning for heavy substance abuse in this chapter - the usage of this is not meant to be glamourized in any way. i don't want anyone to get the wrong idea, so please note the underlying commentary on idol life and substance use. as someone who has been diagnosed with substance use disorder, i encourage learning about its complexities and ending stigma around it. there is also a quick note at the end of the chapter regarding its ending. ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤjoin the taglist here! ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤm.list | previous | next

you might just have dealt the final blow stop, you’re losin’ me

TOP HEADLINE TODAY: big hit entertainment releases a trailer on official youtube channel, announcing bts’ upcoming world tourㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤapril 2018

two years made a night and day difference in your relationship. after the highs and lows that brought several short-term breakups, 2018 was supposed to be your and jungkook’s year. it was a fresh start and the turn of your early twenties was the world at your fingertips. young, beautiful and wealthy - it was a dream for any idol in south korea.

a fresh start wasn’t always easy when skeletons lurked in your closet, though. watching your boyfriend pace back and forth in his kitchen, a glass of whiskey on the rocks at hand, jungkook looked completely different. you weren’t sure if you’d finally snapped out of the daze that framed him as a teenager, bursting with energy, but things hadn’t been the same in a long time.

“yeah, y/n is coming with me,” you heard him say, your ears perking up at the sound of your name. it was hard to read his tone, but something told you that the person on the other end was surprised at his statement.

he finally noticed that you walked into the room, having finished slipping on your coat. jungkook sighed, tilting back the last of his drink and telling the person on the phone that he had to go. his furrowed eyebrows were telling enough that he was annoyed with you.

“what? i only took an hour,” you said, walking over from the doorway of his bathroom.

jungkook rolled his eyes. “an hour after the party started. let’s get going, the boys said they’re waiting for us,” he complained. “you’re the one who insisted on coming with me, anyway.”

at that, you didn’t say anything because you knew it would only escalate into an argument. jungkook had been recently accusing you of being overly controlling when it came to hanging out with his friends, which led to an invite to tonight’s party to be extended to you, as well.

however, parties at places like hotel azure were now a routine for you and jungkook, which was one of the only things that was constant against change in the past two years. with fame came notoriety and after clawing your way up the social ladder amongst the country’s musical elite, invitations to galas and lounges and the vip section of the club came left and right. everyone now knew you as one of the idol power couples behind the curtain and your respective presences were expected at events.

a molasses-like tension sat in the air when it came to this. although you and jungkook were known as one, it wasn’t easy to ignore jungkook’s individual stardom that garnered mass attention. his biggest supporter, you loved this for him - until you didn’t. he would jet off to tokyo and shanghai to party with a-listers and meet new people everywhere he went. he was rising before your very eyes and you couldn’t help but feel left behind.

“did you not tell them we got back together?” you suddenly asked, trailing out the front door with an impatient jungkook.

he only shrugged. it was hard to keep up when you and jungkook had taken several sporadic “breaks” over the last year. as a couple, you showed your best and smiled in front of everyone. however, your friends were the ones who would witness arguments in the corner of the room or furious frenzies of text arguments whilst working.

it was hard to manage a relationship that was akin to a fire - passionate, but ready to set ablaze at all times.

you weren’t sure how you and jungkook got to this point. you were no longer kids who only had each other. it could’ve been so many things - age, fame, money. there were other underlying issues that came with all these things. after all, by the time you were sat in the car, the first flask was already finished between you and him.

the drive to hotel azure was a blur and before you knew it, you were taking shots with kim yoojung and suzy in the penthouse suite. jungkook had walked away with his friends upon entering the party and it was already a lost idea to find him. you exchanged few words on the way to the venue, as he seemed to still be frustrated with you for a variety of reasons.

besides, it was a jackson wang party. the suite was filled to the brim with the who’s who of the entertainment industry, all mingling and dancing in an exalted existence that only celebrities enjoyed. others were outside at the rooftop pool, basking in the first of the year’s warm air. there were too many things going on at once.

the only warmth you were concerned with was the hot sensation spreading throughout your body from hennessy. “how’s the filming of your new show?” you asked suzy, who was now flushed from the round of drinks.

“exhausting. how’s the recording of your new album?” she sighed.

“exhausting.”

a murmur of agreement ensued. that was why everyone was gathering - an escape from the fastlane of their lives. the industry was draining and every forced smile for the cameras only weighed heavier on someone.

“that nct member your boyfriend is friends with was passing out xans,” warned yoojung, poking your side.

a year ago, you would have made a scene. now jaded and long given up on trying to knock some sense into him, you peeked over yoojung’s shoulder to check out the hallway ahead. turning back to the other two women, you already made up your mind.

“the bathroom over there is free,” was all you had to say and with you swiping your clutch off the counter, they knew what you were thinking. they knew what was in its contents.

you had to - it was a jackson wang party. ironically, you were never able to recall actually seeing jackson at his parties. really, you weren’t able to recall much in general the day after for certain reasons and tomorrow was looking no different when you busted out of the bathroom minutes later, giggling and brushing off your clothes. at the very least, you knew that you weren’t looking out of place, especially if what yoojung said was true. everyone in the room could afford the best to use, so why wouldn’t they?

“we should go to the pool!”

it didn’t take much convincing for you to be dragged outside, as the high was settling in and you suddenly became a social butterfly. the three of you arrived poolside, where you were greeted by more of your peers. you wouldn’t call them your friends.

the exception was jimin, who you were surprised to see. he was very amicable and well-liked amongst social circles, but wild parties were never quite his scene. some of jungkook’s group mates had an affinity for nights out, but you and jungkook attended a specific genre of parties that the others didn’t vibe with on the regular.

you smiled a little too wide. “jimin!”

the group you approached sat poolside on a couch, as jimin scooted over to make room for. you barely fit, but he made sure to make it work for one of his best friends’ girlfriend. stumbling a bit when you squeezed past others’ knees, he offered his arm to help steady you.

“hey, y/n. jungkook went somewhere else?” he asked slowly, examining your face.

jimin had a beer in his hand and appeared significantly more sober than the other partygoers, who were now immersed back into their previous conversation after your arrival. suzy and yoojung were laughing with the others, probably now too high and drunk to even remember that they walked over with you. meanwhile, jimin had his jacket on, as if he was right about to leave until you came outside. his mind was changed when he saw how wasted you were.

you looked around, hoping the fresh air would help you focus. “mmm, yeah. think he’s with jaehyun.”

it didn’t. it also felt like hours since you last spotted your boyfriend, but you were having fun. however, that wasn’t what jimin was concerned about.

“you’re doing okay?” jimin questioned, a frown tugging at his lips.

if it wasn’t someone like jimin who knew you well, it wouldn’t be so obvious that you were now quite inebriated. your giggles were a little too loud and you would never stumble in high heels sober.

when you didn’t answer, jimin finished the last of his drink and set it on the table in front of you before standing up. there was a glint of worry in his eyes.

he said, “stay right there. i’m going to get you some water and find jungkook.”

truthfully, you didn’t want him to locate your boyfriend, but jimin was already off. you huffed some hair out of your face. you didn’t think you were in that bad of a shape.

now that there was room on the couch, you were able to move over. when jimin left, you noticed that the girl next to you was watching the interaction the entire time. she was young and the doe-like expression on her face read that this was her first time at hotel azure. she was dressed to the nines and carried herself with energy.

“hi, you’re nova!” it was more of an exclaimation than a question, when she smiled at you.

your mood dampened at this. you did not have time to be entertaining whatever lucky rookie idol she was, probably scoring a luky invite. you also despised being called your stage name when you weren’t in front of a camera or fans. however, you put on your best plastered on smile.

“hi. you are?” you asked, wanting to try to be polite.

she ignored it. “wow, so it’s true then?” she asked. “you’re dating jungkook! and you were just talking to jimin, you must be so close with all of bts!”

it was like an immediate headache onset, as you tried not to wince at her nearly screaming into your ear. the music was loud, but not that loud. at least she acknowledged you first, some people often went all in by just talking about jungkook. you would have engaged in actual conversation with her if she didn’t ignore your first attempt.

“y/n, try this!”

a red solo cup was pushed in front of your face and you didn’t think twice about taking a sip. anything to not hear the girl drone on about your boyfriend. it was sour and medicinal at the same time, causing you to make a face. the actor who passed it to you chuckled, as you gave it back.

you coughed. “that was disgusting.”

for some reason, the smell of the drink alone made your head hurt. you mumbled an ‘excuse me’ at the young idol, who was still talking about bts the entire time that interaction with the drink happened, and got up. your legs were weak.

for a while, you were walking around with no purpose, observing those around you blankly. when the drinks and the drugs and the desire to fit in faded away, it was boring.

you wondered if you actually liked being at these parties or if you were there just because. the “just because” could have been anything - just because it was expected by your circle, just because it was the only way to let out steam from the demands of your job. maybe even. . .just because of jungkook.

“looking for your boyfriend?”

at some point, you wandered over to the shadowy corner of the rooftop, where someone was smoking a joint. you tried your best to recall his name, as you’d just been on a variety show with him, but the best you could do was remember that he was a member of winner. you winced at yet another mention of jungkook, but ignored it again.

he held the joint out as an offer and you accepted without hesitation, letting the smoke fill your insides. it was easy to ignore the burn in your throat when you’d already been putting random substances into your body since the night began.

“not really,” you admitted, though you did scan the crowd when you did.

he cocked an eyebrow. “oh? aren’t you two always hand in hand at these things?” he made a gesture, referring to the party as a whole.

a year or two ago, you would have spent the entire party on jungkook’s lap and exclusively mingled and drank from that same spot. as time went on and jungkook began attending parties and clubs without you, it was a growing occurrence that you began doing your own thing when you appeared with him.

“dunno,” was all you could say, not wanting to talk more about it.

it appeared that he got the hint, dropping the subject of jungkook. instead, he failed to hide the once over he made of your appearance and you fought a shiver. you felt like you were naked under his stare, as your skin-tight maxi dress didn’t leave much to the imagination. you never felt unsafe to wear what you wanted on a night out - albeit, your boyfriend was usually with you.

“you cold? want my jacket, sweetie?” he asked, sugar lacing every one of his words.

that’s when you became alert, despite your body’s lack of sobriety working against you. he had taken a half-step towards you and you instantly stepped backwards. you’d never been so uncomfortable, but it was a struggle to steady yourself.

you mustered up some solidity in your voice. “no. you can back up now,” you said, handing the joint back to him. “thanks.”

he didn’t get the hint. “then, do you wanna go inside with me? where’s it’s warmer?”

the smirk on his face sent off alarms in your head, as you continued to walk away, he still remained close to you when you did.

“i said i’m good. you’re getting weird, so back up,” you repeated, eyes darting around to see if anyone would step in.

instead, everyone was still lost in their own worlds. some people were laughing away, trashing the bar on the other end of the rooftop. the people you were with on the couch were taking shots. nobody was noticing the interaction between you and this man.

when he took a firm grip on your arm, you thought you were about to throw up. you noticed that you hadn’t even been walking straight and when you blinked, he was already in front of you. your words couldn’t find themselves when you saw double everywhere you turned. you were fucked and you couldn’t even defend yourself.

then, it happened.

when you jumped at the sound of a sudden impact, you thought that you were the one who fell down. but, there was no pain. there was a round of gasps. there was yelling. there was a body on the ground and it was the man’s.

“are you fucking crazy?! don’t you put your dirty ass hands on her ever again or i’ll kill you with my bare hands, asshole!”

the voice belonged to jungkook. it was the first time you’d seen him all night. he was standing over the man’s body, yelling further profanities at him. you saw red - both on his knuckles and in his bloodshot eyes.

you let out a scream when the man suddenly got to his feet, lunging at jungkook. this was when others ran in, straining to peel their two bodies away from each other.

people stopped to watch, but it was almost dystopian to see that some didn’t even care. they continued taking shots and smoking their joints. it was a daze of glimmer and drugs that only existed in the penthouse suite of hotel azure - where the rich and famous didn’t have time for scuffles.

“jungkook, stop!” you screeched, your voice cracking and tears welling up in your eyes.

it took three people to pull jungkook alone, as others also came to the rescue of the other man. jaehyun and yugyeom each clutched onto one of jungkook’s arms, while bambam stood between the two. it looked like they had all chased jungkook from inside the penthouse, who had slammed the sliding door open.

when jungkook picked up a glass beer bottle in his rage, you almost ran in yourself. he’d swatted jaehyun and yugyeom’s grips away to do so. thankfully, it was jimin who dashed in to swipe the object away from jungkook’s grasp, before the situation escalated to disastrous.

if jimin didn’t wrestle the weapon out of jungkook’s hands, it would have been detrimental beyond saving.

“you piece of shit!” snarled the man, who spat in jungkook’s direction. “your little girlfriend should know how much of a piece of shit you are, too!”

at that, you froze. jungkook only narrowed his eyes at him, as if daring him to continue. the next few moments didn’t seem real. his friends took the opportunity to take hold of him again, now with bambam joining in and trying to talk some sense into him.

“kook, calm down. seriously, you need to just - “

jungkook shot back, ignoring bambam. “you better shut your fucking mouth.” through gritted teeth, he kept urging for jaehyun and yugyeom to let go of him, which they thankfully didn’t.

he only chuckled and your heart dropped when he turned to you. “nah, you must already know he’s a piece of shit. you must be cool with that and with the fact that he’s fucking his backup dancer.”

what he said was loud and clear, but you didn’t even register it. you thought you were dreaming. you didn’t know what to do.

betrayal had a funny effect on people and on you, it was seething fury.

if you were sober, it would have been your turn to lunge at someone. you considered it and decided that it wasn’t a bad idea. taking off your heels and making strides towards the man, nobody expected you to clock the man right in the jaw. he yelped, stumbling backwards from the impact. in your state, you only just realized that you’d actually hit him with one of your shoes.

“that was for me, you creep,” you hissed, as he cussed loudly at his now bloody nose.

you even pondered pushing him into the pool, but decided it wasn’t worth it. the adrenaline in your veins - and whatever other substances were in there - wasn’t enough to distract you from the pit in your stomach from what the man said. something in you didn’t even consider the possibility of it being untrue - your gut told you otherwise.

you stared at jungkook, searching for any rebuttal. however, you knew the look on his face. it was the truth. not once did jungkook even try to dispute the accusation. your anger died down now and you were left feeling like you were floating. this couldn’t be real.

it was now jungkook’s turn to stand frozen. you didn’t have time for this or for him. even his friends were frozen and you didn’t know what emotions were on their faces. shocked, but at what? that he was cheating on you or that he just got exposed? reality was beginning to sink in and the only thing you knew was that you needed to get out of there. you thought you looked like the biggest joke in the world, whether his friends knew about it or not.

“what do you think you’re doing? go after her!”

that was jimin’s voice, horrified that his friend was just passively watching you run out of there. jungkook finally made a sprint for it. you’d pushed past several people and jungkook didn’t catch up to you until you reached the elevator.

your vision was waning and the source could have been either the situation or your body finally giving up on you from what you had consumed all night. you needed to sit down. hurriedly, you jammed the button to close the elevator door, but a hand stuck out to force it open.

jungkook was pleading. “y/n, just one second - “

“no, get away from me.”

“look, let’s talk! please!” he cried, trying to enter the elevator with you.

at this point, you were shoving him away. you didn’t care, you needed him out of your face before you began crying. he wasn’t fighting back at all, letting you continuously push him, but didn’t move an inch.

“you’re scum to me,” you growled, eventually giving up and tripped backwards from your own force.

the elevator closed and for thirteen long floors, it was just you and him in that one space.

“please, let’s communicate - isn’t that what you always wanted for us?” jungkook said and did his best to get you to meet his eyes. “bug, come o -”

the fire in your eyes was nothing like he’d ever seen before from you. “don’t you dare call me that ever again!”

bug was his special name for you, short for lovebug. you used to get upset when he would call you your full name over bug. in that moment, it sickened you to hear it.

everything began clicking in your head. the way he rarely called you when he was on tour. the slow buildup of disinterest in your wellbeing. going to places that he always went to without you. being secretive of what he was doing on his phone. this behaviour multiplied recently and with another world tour for bts lined up, you now knew why.

jungkook was living an entirely different life away from you. you just thought he would never have it in him. not the kind and sweet jungkook you met all those years ago.

you ripped off the tennis bracelet from your wrist, which jungkook had given you for your eighteenth birthday. a look of defeat rested on his face when you hurled it at him, which he didn’t even bother to dodge. he knew he deserved it.

the elevator dinged and you made a beeline for the first door you saw. you weren’t even running, but jungkook dashed to meet you there. you let out a cry of frustration when he stood right in front of you, blocking the entrance.

“move or you’ll regret it.”

he ignored you and you instead side-stepped away, using all your energy to exit through the next door before jungkook could realize. he tried blocking you again, but only caught a bit of your force because you were too fast.

the entire time this was happening, you’d been trying to dial someone, anyone. none of your group mates were answering. you didn’t have any friends that weren’t at the party upstairs. the last resort was your manager, who you were about to call, when jungkook stood in front of you again.

“y/n, please. i’ll get on my knees if i have to,” jungkook begged and you could see that he was fighting tears. “please, i just want to talk.”

however, you could also see that jungkook was far from sober. he was in a worse state than you were. a bruise was to soon form on his jaw and his hair was disheveled. it was the lowest you’d ever seen him.

for a split second, you tried. you wanted to try and see the boy you fell in love with all those years ago. you searched and searched.

“what? i’ve asked you for years to communicate in this relationship and it only becomes important after you cheat on me?”

jungkook knew he was defeated, but he still looked at you with those same pleading eyes. “i know i don’t deserve you - “

“i don’t even recognize you!” you interrupted. “i don’t even know who you are!”

both of you knew that you were right. something went wrong along the way. you were barefoot and exhausted, no longer with light in your eyes. jungkook was pitiful and lost - lost in his fame, in the parties, and from you.

that night at hotel azure should have been the end. the storybook fairytale should have been over. in that moment, you would have even moved as far as you could and ran away from the dread of the life you were living. you gave up that night.

unfortunately, in the craze of the night’s events and the substances swimming in your bodies, both you and jungkook forgot who and where you were.

TOP HEADLINE TODAY: breaking news! dispatch releases exclusive photos of bts’ jungkook and s.iren’s nova, reveals that they are dating

you’d been in the big hit company building countless of times over the years, but would have never imagined yourself sitting in their board room with their most senior executives. to make matters worse, several high-ranking representatives from your company sat in the same room, including your ceo and your own manager. at the head of the table were you and jungkook, both stone-faced and unable to look at each other.

entering the room, you considered yourself all alone. your manager was pissed off at you. your group mates hadn’t spoken to you since the news broke, except for sooah. she only warned you to make sure that nobody knew you were high when it happened. the last thing the group needed was an additional scandal where their main vocalist gets sentenced to prison for possession. and, of course, you now had no boyfriend. there was nobody there for you.

“they’ve been building evidence for a long time now, clearly.”

to make matters more humiliating, the company executives were broadcasting the dispatch article on the big screen in front of everyone. the head of public relations, mr. lee, swiped through each photo released like a slideshow.

the first picture was you and jungkook outside of your building complex. another was a sneaky shot that barely captured you and jungkook in the same taxi. it went on and on, until the last photo that depicted you and jungkook standing in front of hotel azure, which was less than twenty-four hours ago at this point.

after escaping the party and jungkook, you spent the rest of your night crying and throwing up at home. it was late when you left and you knew you couldn’t sleep a wink after what transpired. you tried your very best and it was seven in the morning when you thought your eyes were finally closing, until your phone began blowing up.

at first, it was just your manager and you didn’t want to hear about how she found out that you were partying late again. then, not even an hour after, your social media began blowing up with notifications.

i was trying to warn you, the last text from your manager read. you realized what she was talking about, as dispatch probably gave the “courtesy” to inform the company before the article went out.

you thought about your group members, feeling nothing but guilt. you saw what happened to other female idols, whose dating scandals tarnished their “sisterhood” with their members forever. you were terrified of that happening to you.

now, you sat in this suffocating board room, still hungover, and your entire future at stake. the only thing you felt regretful about was not just the impact of your choices on both your group members, but the rest of jungkook’s. they were one of the, if not the, most popular groups in the country.

while the room went over the pictures that were released, you were silent. you long understood the consequences of the relationship and accepted the risk. when the scandal actually broke, though, the fear you felt was unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. on the other hand, jungkook was only apologizing profusely and was in tears. you didn’t realize it until then, but there were also streams of tears running down your face.

you weren’t sure what the main reason for your tears were. something told you that you’d yet to process the grief of jungkook’s betrayal because sitting next to him felt numb. last night, only anger settled underneath your skin. now, being inches away from the man you called your best friend and partner for years, you felt nothing. it was almost an out-of-body experience.

the only way to not replay every single moment he was with her and not you, was to repress the grief. you pretended like it was invisible and out of reach. with that, you figured the tears were for the innocent third parties that were going to be dragged down by the scandal - the executives in the room, jungkook’s group, your group, all of them.

“quit crying! we have no choice, there’s too much evidence - we must publicly confirm the relationship.”

you took a deep breath. right now, you had yet to actually tell anyone that you and jungkook were no longer together. a part of you was too embarrassed to admit that you were cheated on. you also figured that word from the scene at the rooftop party likely already spread throughout social circles. you decided to swallow it down and finally say it aloud.

this was the first time that you spoke up. “but,” you started, “jungkook and i. . .we broke up last night.”

the last thing you expected was a round of laughter. you thought you were imagining it, but when you looked up, the board members were indeed doing so. you were suffering enough, but now you were getting laughed at. your fists were balled up underneath the table.

“are you kidding me?” mr. lee said. “i don’t care. years ago, you and jungkook agreed that, should your relationship be exposed, you would face the repercussions of its reception.”

“mr. lee - “ jungkook started, but was hushed by his company executives.

when mr. lee tapped on his laptop again and cut to the comments section of the article, you thought you would see hate comments. death threats, even. but, you were stunned to face waves of positivity.

the tone he used, though, was devoid of any. “oh, i love this couple so much,” mr. lee began reading the comments in a monotone voice that only made the situation feel even more of a joke. “wah. they. are. such. a. beautiful. couple. i’m not even mad.”

you swore your eyes were deceiving you. stealing your first glance at jungkook since walking into the room, he, too, was shocked and his jaw hung low.

“talk about a power couple, congratulations! here, someone said: hope this is true, nova is luckiest girl in the world - love this. then, a bunch of good luck’s, and blah, blah, blah.”

there was a wave of anger when most of the comments called you the lucky one and not once the other way around.

regardless, the reception of international fans was generally uplifting, which was no surprise to you. what really got to you was that it didn’t stop there - the screen scrolled past dozens and dozens of korean comments that exemplified full support towards the relationship. this was a true mark of positive reception, as they were the fans you feared the most.

as the years went on and jungkook rose in popularity, you became increasingly nervous about your relationship. you watched so many of your peers receive horrible backlash from fans after being exposed for dating, especially the women. being a female in the industry was hard enough and you weren’t sure if you were going to be one of the strong ones in this situation.

“so that your fans don’t feel ‘betrayed’, we are going to let the media know that you have been dating for a few months - don’t even think about telling people that you’ve been together since 2013,” mr. lee announced, which snapped you back to the conversation.

you dared to speak again. “mr. lee, jungkook and i have broken up,” you reiterated, wondering if nobody heard you the first time.

he rolled his eyes. “i understand. do you also understand that this reaction is basically unheard of? have you noticed that you’ve gained almost a million followers on instagram?”

this time, it was the public relations representative from big hit that cleared her throat and stood up. she joined mr. lee in front of the board members, who began murmuring in approval amongst themselves.

“jungkook. y/n. as you know, the love yourself world tour was just announced. s.irens is also preparing for a major comeback and potential tour. this relationship,” she said, “will be used to accelerate the successes of both of your groups.”

a chart appeared on the screen. it showed data from the last twenty-four hours, including both group’s increase in social media numbers, streams, and search engine hits.

“consider it an exchange for breaching your no-dating clause five years ago. until further notice, this relationship, at least in the eyes of the public, will remain.”

this had to be a joke. however, you remembered what you and jungkook were. you were idols. you were puppets of the machine that was the korean entertainment industry. chess pieces. no matter how rich or famous either of you got, it all boiled down to this.

the fame game was one that was never won.

jungkook said, slowly, “you’re asking us to date. . .as a publicity stunt?”

at this, you had no choice. a few individuals in the room, including jungkook, jumped when you shot up from your seat. you rose in order to bow at a ninety degree angle in front of all the senior executives, ignoring how sick you were to your stomach.

“please,” you began, eyes squeezed shut. “i want nothing to do with jeon jungkook.”

of course, the decision was already made and your pleas were dismissed. however, you didn’t see the way jungkook watched you beg your company to not force you in a relationship with a man you no longer loved. his mouth went dry and there’d never been such a moment in his life where he hated himself more. he did this. he pushed you to this point and he betrayed you.

from that moment on, jungkook saw this as an opportunity. he destroyed everything that you and he had ever built. now, the only thing he ever sought from this point on, was redemption.

even though your companies informed you two that you could publicly “breakup” following a year post-dispatch release, jeon jungkook never lost sight of the redemption he sought. they wanted you to be the so-called it couple of the industry and he decided he would do them one better and make it real. for the next year, jungkook would do everything in his power to win you back.

LATEST NEWS: bts’ jungkook and s.irens’ nova confirms their relationship! read more about big hit’s response: “they met as friends and the connection blossomed from there”

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄. for clarity purposes (because i feel like the non-chronological format may get confusing), y/n and jungkook get back together during this publicity stunt and are 100% for real dating in chapter 1. the publicity stunt arc is covered in chapters 6-8, as the next chapter focuses on why/how their relationship began breaking down before the hotel azure incident.

#jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #kpop fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x oc #jungkook x you #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagines #jungkook angst #jungkook series #bts scenarios #bts imagine #bts x reader #bts au #bts series #bts angst

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fuckyeahhistorycrushes · 6 months

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Edna St. Vincent Millay was a poet whose work was definitional to the glamour of Roaring Twenties America. She was born in 1892 and when she was just seven, her mother divorced her father and took her and her sisters to live in Maine. The Millay household was one of strong, intelligent, independent women and the bond they shared is one of the most fascinating I've ever read about.

Millay wrote poetry from a young age, and when she was twenty, her poem Renascence got the attention of a wealthy woman who decided to sponsor her way through college. She went to Vassar and was nearly prevented from walking at her graduation for breaking curfew one to many times, but her classmates all rallied to defend her and the headmaster relented.

People could not stop falling in love with this woman. In her Vassar years, many women fell head over heels for her. She also had many affairs with men. When she did marry, in 1923, she and her husband loved each other dearly, but neither gave up the relationships they had on the side, they "lived like a pair of old bachelors."

Her poetry is beautiful and aside from being the first woman to win a Pulitzer Prize for Poetry, she was also such an evocative wordsmith. Themes of love, death, and nature are prevalent throughout, but she has a unique twist on them. I really appreciate the way that women are depicted in her work as whole beings with wants and needs outside of being a chaste object of desire for a male narrator.

And also she's very beautiful. I could only attach one picture here but she really is very good to look at.

#history #history crushes #submission

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simtleman · 9 months

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Ten men waiting for me at the door? Send one of them home, I'm tired. And pour me another one of those reds, darling!

Yes, I am absolutely obsessed with Miss Suzette Palmer and yes, @surely-sims' new "Bobby's Basement Bar" fits PERFECTLY within my 1920s art deco speakeasy kinda aesthetic. I love it so much!

#ts4 screenshots #ts4 retro #ts4 vintage #sims 4 cc #ts4 1920s #roaring twenties #ts4 flapper #ts4 glamour #ts4 old hollywood #ts4 simblr #ts4 legacy #ts4 decades challenge #shrimpmas 23

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kodaiki · 7 months

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highlights! ⇢ luna had to stay in satoru's bedroom bc she could choke on the lego pieces :( no cameo from her today ⇢ gojo never told anyone any of that... ⇢ gojo was shocked to learn that those were y/n's first official bouquet of flowers given to her

author's note! ⇢ we love a deep conversation moment, bonding over legos <3 okay now kiss :] this was basically the talk they had mentioned in the last part!

꒰ 𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 ꒱ ↳ as a rising star in the tumultuous world of hollywood, you're handed a golden opportunity to boost your career – a fake relationship. what your manager forgot to mention? your leading man is none other than satoru gojo, hollywood's notorious fuckboy. easy? well, not exactly.

PART TWENTY ½ | NEXT

ʚĭɞ rbs and interaction always appreciated! ʚĭɞ

to join the taglist: currently 50/50. CLOSED!

[below is the written alternative to the pics above! enjoy <3]

SATORU’S HOME — 10:08 PM

the soft glow of the dimmed lights over your head illuminates the cozy atmosphere as you and satoru sit, plopped on the floor, surrounded by lego pieces scattered around you both. convenience store meal containers are pushed aside, replaced by the colorful array of lego blocks for the assembling of the flowers you’re making.

you can’t help but chuckle softly as you clip a piece together. “who knew assembling lego flowers would be so therapeutic?”

satoru glances up at you from his craftsmanship, his face lifting into a lopsided smirk as he raises a brow. “therapeutic and much more enjoyable than a dinner at a five-star joint, right?” he asks in a sly tone.

“definitely,” you admit – but give an eye roll, too – finding enjoyment in the quiet concentration of your activity. “i mean, who needs caviar when you’ve got legos?”

satoru wiggles his brows with a drawled, yet all the same, teasing tone. “you expected caviar?”

“you brought up a five star restaurant place first! i’m just playing along,” you reply with a pointed tone, jabbing the start of a lego flower stem at him.

the atmosphere is light as you continue your tasks, planted in place as you furrow your brows in concentration and deep thought.

“you know,” you begin, trailing up your gaze to glance over at his progress. he’s piecing the petals to the stem of his first flower. “i expected hollywood glamour and red carpets when i signed up for a fake relationship…definitely didn’t expect this.” your tone remains light and amused, almost whimsical, as a smile tugs at the corner of your lips.

satoru snaps his fingers in an ‘aw man’ type of gesture. with mock disappointment, he juts bottom his lip out. “well, i’m sorry if you’re disappointed, princess.”

you scoff playfully, rolling your eyes at his exaggerated display. “oh, i’m terribly disappointed. no paparazzi, no fancy dinners, just legos and premade meals. what a letdown.”

you meet satoru’s eyes when you finish speaking, tone laced with sarcasm. he’s grinning at you, finding your tone amusing. as the playfulness subsides and you’re left in silence again, a more contemplative air settles between the two of you.

you don’t notice at first, but satoru sets aside his made flower and leans back on his hands, gazing at you, his blonde bangs brushing against his forehead. “in all honesty, y/n, the hollywood life can be exhausting. sometimes, a night like this feels more real that those red carpet events.”

the shift in his tone catches your attention, making you pause in your movements and look up at him more intently. you notice his eyes, usually filled with more mischief, now hold a smidge of… is that vulnerability?

“you ever feel like you’re playing a role even when the cameras aren’t rolling?” he continues, a genuine curiosity in his expression.

the legos forgotten for a moment, you nod thoughtfully. “yeah, sometimes, depending on where i am. it’s like there’s ‘public me’ and then the ‘real me,’ and they don’t always align.” you recall the amount of pr training you had to do in your agency, solely to maintain a specific image.

satoru’s gaze lingers on you as if searching for something deeper behind your gaze. “well, you’re not alone in that feeling,” he confesses in a low tone, his usual playful demeanor replaced by a rare sincerity you haven’t seen before. “sometimes, i wonder if anyone really knows the real me.”

his words make your head cock to the side in interest. “what about suguru and your other friends?” you ask softly.

"well, yeah, i guess they know me on more than a superficial level. but even then, sometimes it's like i'm still playing a character." he shrugs with twisted lips – a habit of his you realize means he's in deep thought. "don't get me wrong, it's nothing wrong with them but my guard is still up… it’s kind of like a default thing engrained in my head since i first started acting.”

your brows dip into a slight furrow as you take in his words. had acting really gotten him to a point of building a hypothetical shield around himself?

you can sense a hint of sadness in his admission, a vulnerability laid bare in his words. it’s a satoru you haven’t seen before, a crack in the facade of the confident, charming persona he presents to the world. truthfully, you didn’t think you’d ever witness this side of him.

“i get that,” you reply softly, setting aside your own lego flower to change your sitting position to hugging your knees as your chin rests against the top of them, giving him your full attention. with a bashful chuckle, you continue, “i mean– i can’t say i relate since i’m far from where you are… but i guess i can see how it’s easy to blur the lines between who you are and a role you’re trying to uphold. it’s like the more successful you become, the more layers you add to protect yourself.”

he blinks owlishly at your words, face appearing blank. you think, for a moment, that you’ve said the wrong thing but he releases a chuckle himself, head tilting to the side thoughtfully.

“exactly,” he murmurs in agreement. “you sure you’re an amateur actress?” he raises a brow, a teasing glimmer in his blue eyes.

you laugh again. “definitely an amateur compared to the hollywood veteran sitting across from me,” you tease, a genuine smile playing on your lips.

satoru visibly shudders at the word ‘veteran,’ shaking his shoulders and head as he sits up straighter.

"was it tough getting to where you are?" you ask, treading the water first, wondering if he's even comfortable sharing this side of himself to you.

"i wanna say i got lucky with my first role at just fourteen. but everything after that? I can’t even tell you which was media-driven and which was self-motivated,” he shrugs with a sigh, briefly looking away from you as if pondering.

"what do you mean?" you furrow your brows. it's no surprise he's technically a 'child' actor, having starred on a popular netflix show in his early teenhood, skyrocketing him to instant fame, a much starker contrast than the typical child actor on daytime t.v.. his viewership was massive from his debut, having scored such a prominent role.

"after my first show did well, apparently several representatives for different projects wanted me and, well, for my management, that was a lottery. and – it's all a blur now, really – but soon enough I was an overworked sixteen-year-old starring in some show I hardly couldn't care less about, and then-"

"savage satoru," you finish for him, connecting the dots of his story.

he snorts at the cringy title. “was that really what they referred to me as?" he visibly winces, probably wishing for a nickname that didn’t sound like dated twitter jargon.

you nod, remembering how he'd blown up for acting out and being messy, as told by online tabloids on twitter and other social media sites. it’d been so many years ago but it was a pop culture moment; one of those ‘you just had to be there’ moments.

"so you remember the headlines then. i turned eighteen and started being a complete asshole on set, dating around, y’know the whole ordeal. my management had to step in and have a whole intervention with me if you can imagine it. damage control, really. they blamed it on the fact that I was eighteen – young and dumb bullshit – and sure, that had a part in it. but it has more so to do with how exhausted and overworked I was...

but despite all this damage control, i gained the label of some bad boy in hollywood who was objectively attractive and had a fanbase full of girls, so hollywood went with it. as long as i wasn't acting out on set, they'd embrace this new version of myself skewed by the media. anything for some exposure and quick bucks. and me? well, I still needed a check of my own so... i went with it. i think that's when i put up my first layer, hiding myself behind someone who wasn't me but doing it anyway because realistically, what else could I do?”

“it sounds toxic,” you murmur with a frown.

satoru's gaze becomes distant for a moment, a hint of nostalgia or maybe regret flashing in his eyes. “yeah, it was. it's a strange thing, trying to navigate your identity in an industry that's constantly shaping and reshaping it for you."

you reach down to pick up a stray lego piece from the floor, turning it over in your hand as you absorb his words. “but why go along with it even now? couldn't you have rebelled against the image they were trying to create?"

satoru chuckles bitterly, shaking his head to himself. "it's not that simple, y/n. in hollywood, the image they build for you often becomes more real than your true self. it becomes a survival mechanism. if you're not marketable, then they find someone who is. it's a game, and sometimes you have to play along to stay in it. think about it, you’re part of the game, too."

you gnaw at your lower lip, taking in his words. what he’s saying is true. if it hadn’t been for this fake relationship, you wouldn’t have the place – the opportunities – you do now in hollywood. without you even realizing, it’s a story built by hollywood for hollywood.

satoru looks over at your expression, a rueful smile on his lips. "it's a double-edged sword. the fame, the adoration, it comes at a cost. and often, that cost is your own self.”

the room is filled with a contemplative silence, broken only by the occasional click of lego pieces coming together. the atmosphere shifts once more, a newfound understanding settling between you and satoru.

“i didn’t mean for this talk to get so gloomy,” he mutters with an awkward chuckle amidst the silence, rubbing the back of his neck.

“that’s okay,” you offer a smile of understanding. to be honest, you’d much rather have talks like these with people than a superficial one while brushing these topics under a carpet. “is it bad that i’m rethinking my whole career now?” you ask with a humorless laugh, picking up the flower again, now nearly finished.

“i’d be more surprised if you didn’t,” he retorts with an amused scoff. “but it gets better, trust me.”

“if it’s any consolation, i’m grateful i got to fake date you out of the other actors in hollywood,” you admit with a soft smile.

“yeah?” he raises a brow, partly in amusement, the other part in pure intrigue. “the infamous satoru gojo?” before you can answer, he leans back on his hands again, shooting you a smirk. “i knew you’d admit to my appeal one of these days. they always do.” he glances back at you, winking to let you know he’s partially kidding.

“oh, shut up,” you fire back, but a grin tugs up your lips. “i take back what i said.”

“too late!” he gives you a shit-eating grin, teasing you.

you can only roll your eyes, knowing if you tried to argue with him, your tone would give yourself away.

perhaps, amidst the legos and vulnerability, a genuine friendship is taking root, growing from the foundation of shared experiences and mutual understanding.

and surprisingly,

you don’t mind it one bit.

taglist!

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those highlighted in pink were unable to be tagged! please solve this issue within a week or your spot will be given to someone else! 🤍

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chrisevansonly · 11 months

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𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐁𝐞𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐝 | 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐬

ʚ lando norris x female reader (best friends to lovers!!)

ʚ you’ve always been in the background, never experiencing the love everyone’s talking too, except you’ve been watching lando experience that feeling your yearning for…are you really meant to be alone? or have feelings been kept hidden for too long…?

ʚ a bit of angst, slight arguments, miscommunication but super fluffy and cute too (i hate angsty endings, you all know this already)

ʚ hehe the fic is finally here! thank you to everyone who voted and helped me choose someone to write this for! i hope this is okay! where it says ‘best friends found a new guy, imagine it saying girl’

ʚ word count 2k+

Moved put to a new city, June is dawning down on me, and all that I can find….

You’d moved to Monaco to pursue a sports journaling degree when you’d turned nineteen, leaving the hustle and bustle of London to come to the glitz and glamour that Monte Carlo held. The one thing that was nice is you’d been staying with your childhood best friend Lando ever since you moved to the city, more than happy to be back with a familiar face, not to mention being able to attend many events and grand prix’s to gain a more hands on experience with your degree.

“Okay, are you all settled in?” he’d asked coming to his guest room to check on you

“Yeah, just a few more things to unpack, thank you for letting me stay with you”

He smiled

“Of course, I love you, you know I do, wouldn’t want you to stay anywhere else!”

There is was, the constant three words that brought butterflies to your stomach whenever Lando said them to you. The two of you had always been affectionate with one another, but you couldn’t help but wish he meant it deeper than he did.

“I’ll let you finish and then we’ll go get some lunch?”

“Sounds good! I shouldn’t be long!”

Nodding he looked around once more before leaving you to your thoughts once again, what a lovesick teenage girl you were.

A sickly romance in the air, lovers stroll without a care in sight, oh this can’t be right…

If there was anything you adored more in life it was love, you’d always been a romantic at heart, but as you began to reach your twenties, never experiencing love romantically or ever really having your opportunity to be loved on that level, seeing the romance within the city streets had begun to bring a sudden dark cloud with it.

It wasn’t that you hated love, no far from, it was more a longing for that feeling of warmth and comfort that only a partner could bring, and wondering when it would finally be your time.

“Pipsqueak?”

Snapping yourself out of your daze, your eyes focused back on Lando who sat across from you at the café the two of you had been frequenting, his silly little nickname he had for you slipping out

“Hmm? Sorry I didn’t hear you”

“I was asking if you wanted to come to the grand prix this weekend, I’ll get it organized with my team if yes”

You were quick to smile, nodding your head

“Yes please, that would be great, I’ve got a paper to write so maybe I’ll find inspiration there!”

Lando nodded, the brit matching your smile, an unreadable emotion flashing across his eyes, but it was gone before you could figure it out

“Sounds good”

Cause the sun’s engaged to the sky, my best friends found a new guy, I’m only getting older, I’ve never had a shoulder to cry on, someone to call mine…

The paddock of the Hungarian grand prix was where you met Lando’s girlfriend for the first time, something you were not expecting to happen, and in all honesty, you’d wished you stayed home now.

“Perfect, you’re here, Ella this is Y/N my best friend, and of course Y/N, this is Ella my girlfriend”

You smiled holding your hand out to shake which she took gently

“Nice to meet you! I didn’t know you were coming, if I did I would have stayed home, I don’t mean to intrude”

Ella smiled sweetly

“Oh no, I don’t mind having a buddy to walk around with, Lando’s told me lot’s about you, you’ve been friends since you were kids?”

And there was the word that soured in your mouth, friends, yeah you and Lando had been friends for years, and yet for some reason you hated that word with a passion, you’ve never had before

“Yeah since we were kids!”

Elbowing Lando slightly he laughed, only when you joined him, it didn’t feel right and your smile didn’t reach your eyes.

Why did you come this weekend.

Everybody’s falling in love and I’m falling behind.

Now almost 4 years later you were twenty three and finally finished your degree, working at a small publishing firm in Monaco, only you’d long moved out of Lando’s apartment and settled into your own little studio. You often looked back on how the weekend ended all those four years ago, Ella was great, she and Lando seemed perfect for one another, but you hadn’t expected it to be a huge problem.

“Are you okay?” Lando asked, his hand touching your shoulder gently

“I’m fine, just super tired”

“I don’t believe you, I know you better.”

Taking a deep breath you continued to pack your things, getting ready for the flight home

“Where’s Ella, shouldn’t you be with her?” you chirped back, trying not to give away your bad mood

“She’s packing and I wanted to check on you, what’s going on pipsqueak?”

“Well I’m fine, and stop calling me that.”

Lando couldn’t get anything else in before you were snapping your suitcase shut and wheeling it out the hotel room door, confusion all he felt watching you walk away, he was determined to find out what was wrong.

Touched the ocean, fell right in, stepped outside and burned my skin, my life won’t go my way..

You had been falling for Lando ever since you were teenagers, his eyes trapped you into him, his words filling your heart with a warmth and love only he could provide, except he was never yours, and never would be. Life had a funny way of working you thought, it was almost too good to be true to imagine yourself and Lando getting together, despite the same idea from both of your parents.

The more you saw Lando and Ella on social media together, the more you pulled away, a constant discomfort in your chest as you watched her have what you yearned for, holding his hand the way you wished you could, kissing his lips like you dreamed you could.

She had everything and right now you had nothing.

Bossa nova in my room, hope that I’ll find someone too to love…because the sun’s engaged to the sky my best friends found a new guy, I’m only getting older, I’ve never had a shoulder to cry on, someone to call mine. Everybody’s falling in love and I’m falling behind.

There had never been an argument so huge between you and Lando before today, it had been weeks of you avoiding his texts, calls, and missing out on weekly friend dates that he had finally shown up at your apartment, anger in his eyes.

“I told you I’ve been busy Lando, can’t you accept that?”

“No! Because ever since Hungary four years ago you haven’t been yourself, ever since you met Ella something changed.”

You rolled your eyes at her name

“That’s such bullshit, I’ve just been doing my own thing and getting used to working, besides my degree was kicking my ass back then.”

Lando didn’t believe a single word you were saying, he could see it in your eyes you were lying

“Stop lying to me, we used to be close and now you’re a stranger, I don’t even know who you are anymore!” his patience wearing thin and you could tell by the way his hands were clenching

“Lando just leave!”

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong!”

“Go away!” you yelled back only causing the driver to yell louder

“TELL ME!”

“I LOVE YOU OKAY?! It’s too painful to be your friend, my chest constanly hurts, I see everyone else have you all to themselves, watch you love someone else, hold someone else and I’m in the background, wondering when it will be my turn-”

You paused taking a deep breath as your eyes began to well up with tears

“When it will be my turn to be loved, to love..to experience what it’s like to be happy with you, and I’ll never have that Lando, so just go!”

Lando remained frozen, nothing coming out of his mouth which was enough for you to go upstairs and close yourself off in your room, figuring he would let himself out of your apartment and go home. Minutes later after hearing the door slam, you let yourself break apart, not caring if your neighbours heard the sound of your sobs.

Losing Lando for good, seemed better than settling for anything else.

Everybody’s falling in love, everybody’s falling in love, oh..everybody’s falling in love but me…

Two months had passed since you’d had that argument, yet no matter what you did the ache never left, the hole remained where you once had him, only now it hurt more than before. What could be so wrong with someone that they’d never been given a chance at love, to feel that euphoric feeling lovers talked about. Truth be told it seemed like some sick joke to you, it wasn’t fair, even if you were being slightly dramatic, never having that kind of love began to affect someone as time went on. Leaving you feeling more insecure and even hesitant to imagine yourself with someone romantically, but let’s face it…you still weren’t over Lando in the slightest.

It wasn’t until Friday night rolled along that you were making your way to the door of your home, fervent knocking could be heard on your door

“I’m coming, I’m coming!”

When you twisted the knob opening the oak door, you froze seeing Lando on the otherside, his cheeks a rosy pink as if he’d sprinted over, his eyes filled once again with the same emotion you couldn’t read the day you’d moved in with him, all those four years ago

“Lan what are you doing-”

“I love you too.”

His words flew out frantically, his hands wringing together

“Funny joke, see you later.”

“NO! Please…I-I just please let me in baby…”

Curse your heart for speeding up at the pet name, something that felt so familiar yet foreign to you. Despite the logical side of your brain telling you to close the door, you found yourself letting him inside, closing it behind him.

“Why are you here…”

Lando didn’t waste any time as he took your hands, holding them softly in his

“I’m an idiot, and I only hope I’m not too late because I love you, so much and not in the way we used to say it as kids, god I love you with everything in me and all these years I’ve been so unfair to you, missing the signs, I should have known”

“What if it is too late?”

Hearing you speak up you watched his shoulders drop, maybe it was a bit mean to lie to him, but part of you wanted him to feel just a sliver of what you’ve been feeling for years

“Oh-um then just pretend I wasn’t here”

“Lando?”

You tightened your grip on his hands when he went to pull away

“Yeah?”

“It’s not to late..”

Nothing was said between the two of you after you said this, your eyes meeting as you watched a certain light come back to his, knowing he hadn’t totally lost you. In this moment he did the one logical thing he thought of, pulling you to him and leaning down to kiss you, his hands moving to hold your face, like he was afraid you’d turn into dust and slip away from him. When you pulled away he kept your face in his hands, a little smile on your face

“I love you Lan..”

He smiled leaning down to kiss you once more

“I love you too baby…always will”

As you moved to rest your head on his chest you couldn’t help but feel your entire world shift, had this been the feeling you’d been searching for all your life? The love and the warmth you’d been deprived of for so long? Nowhere would feel like home more than Lando would now that you were in his arms, this was home.

“Lan?”

He hummed hearing your voice mumbled into his sweater, realizing this was where he was meant to be his whole life, and now that he had you, he would never let go, because a life without you, would be a life he would never, ever want to live again.

“Yeah?”

A pause fell over the two of you before you hugged him just a bit tighter,

“Thank you for choosing me…”

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mariacallous · 5 months

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Salman Rushdie has just published Knife: Meditations After an Attempted Murder. In August 2022, he was giving a talk at the Chautauqua Institution in New York. Hadi Matar, a 24-year-old from New Jersey, rushed the stage and stabbed him 15 times. It was astonishing that Salman survived. He lost the sight in one eye and sustained terrible injuries, but he’s still with us and he’s still writing, and unlike Hadi Matar, he’s still worth hearing.

We think of fanatics as stalkers with an obsessive knowledge of their targets. Like the antisemites who compile lists of Jews in the media or the homophobes who so focus on the details of gay sex they might almost be closet cases

Most terrorists and bigots are not like that. They are like soldiers in an army who kill and hate for no other reason than tradition or men in authority have told them to kill and hate. If we were less fascinated by the pseudo-glamour of violence, we would see them for what they are: dullards and jerks.

In Knife Salman is almost as angered by the sheer lazy stupidity of his wannabee assassin as his violence.

“I do not want to use his name in this account. My Assailant, my would-be Assassin, the Asinine man who made Assumptions about me, and with whom I had a near-lethal Assignation … I have found myself thinking of him, perhaps forgivably, as an Ass.”

The ass “didn’t bother to inform himself about the man he decided to kill. By his own admission he read barely two pages of my writing and watched a couple of YouTube videos”.

That was enough, apparently, along with a little light indoctrination in the Levant.

We know from Matar’s mother that her son changed from a popular young man to a moody religious zealot after visiting her ex-husband in the Hezbollah-controlled town of Yaroun in Lebanon, a mile or so from the Israeli border.

“I was expecting him to come back motivated, to complete school, to get his degree and a job. But instead, he locked himself in the basement. He had changed a lot. He didn't say anything to me or his sisters for months.”

Salman quotes a wonderfully perceptive line from Jodi Picoult

“If you meet a loner, no matter what they tell you, it’s not because they enjoy solitude. It’s because they have tried to blend into the world before, and people continue to disappoint them.”

Rushdie is openly contemptuous, as he has every right to be.

“I see you now at twenty-four,” he writes, “already disappointed by life, disappointed in your mother, your sisters, your father, your lack of boxing talent, your lack of any talent at all; disappointed in the bleak future you saw stretching ahead of you, for which you refused to blame yourself.”

This has always been the way. Readers old enough to remember 1989 when the Ayatollah Khomeini ordered Salman’s execution for writing a blasphemous satire of Islam’s origin story in the Satanic Verses,will know that Khomeini had not read it. Nor had the furious demonstrators in the streets or the regressive leftists and Tory ministers who upbraided him for the non-crime of causing offence.

Those of us who had read the book pointed out that it was a magical realist fiction which contained sympathetic accounts of the racism Muslim immigrants in the UK suffered. Indeed, the Tories of the day loathed Salman, we continued, because of his confrontations with official racism.

But after a while we fell silent. Pleading with his enemies felt demeaning. It gave them undeserved credit, as if they were reasonable people, who could be swayed by evidence rather than just, well, pillocks.

In Knife Salman attempts an imaginary conversation with his persecutor.

OK, he says, Islam, unlike Judaism and Christianity, holds that man is not made in God’s image. God has no human qualities, it says.

But isn’t language a human quality? To have language, God would have to have a mouth, a tongue, vocal cords and a voice, just like a man. The terrorist’s understanding is that God cannot be like a man, however. So, God could not have spoken to Gabriel in Arabic. Gabriel must have translated his message when he came to the prophet.

The angel made it comprehensible to Muhammed by delivering it in human speech which is not the speech of God.

Thus, the version of Islamic instruction Matar received in his basement when he switched from playing video games to listening to Imams was an interpretation of a translation.

“I’m trying to suggest to you that, even according to your own tradition, there is uncertainty. Some of your own early philosophers have suggested this. They say everything can be interpreted, even the Book. It can be interpreted according to the times in which the interpreter lives. Literalism is a mistake.”

For a while, Rushdie says he wants to meet Matar again at the trial, as if he wants to have the argument in the flesh.

He tells a story about Samuel Beckett, which could only have happened to Samuel Beckett.

Beckett was walking through Paris in 1938 when he was confronted by a pimp named Prudent, who wanted money from him. Beckett pushed Prudent away, whereupon the pimp pulled out a knife and stabbed him in the chest, narrowly missing the left lung and the heart.

Beckett was taken to the nearest hospital, bleeding heavily. He only just survived.

You will never guess who paid for his treatment. James Joyce, of course, he did.

Anyway, Beckett went to the pimp’s trial. He met Prudent in the courtroom, and asked him why he had done it. This was the pimp’s reply: “Je ne sais pas, monsieur. Je m’excuse.” (I don’t know, sir. I’m sorry.)

But the more he thought about it, the less Rushdie had to say to his enemy. The idea that you can have theological arguments with a man who wants to kill you for writing a book he hasn’t even read felt ridiculous.

Although popular culture is full of stories about murderers, and true crime podcasts top the charts, killers and fanatics are nearly always less interesting than their victims. More often than not they are just thick. Nasty and vicious, but thick first of all.

We are about to see the stupidity of fanatics deployed on a mass scale. Two thirds of Republican voters (and nearly 3 in 10 Americans) continue to believe that the 2020 election was stolen from Donald Trump, and that Joe Biden was not lawfully elected. They think it because that is what Trump told them to think.

Islamists told Matar that Salman was an apostate, and that was all he needed to know. Trump told Republicans the election was stolen and ditto.

If Republicans were consistent people, they would not vote for Trump in 2024. What would be the point? They would have every reason to fear that the deep state would rig the 2024 presidential election as it rigged the 2020 presidential election.

But they will vote for him because, once again, that is what he tells them to do.

In the end there is a limit to how much attention you can pay the vicious and the stupid.

They are not interesting enough, as Rushdie concluded with marvellous disdain as he contemplated the life sentence Matar will face.

"Here we stand: the man who failed to kill an unarmed seventy-five-year-old writer, and the now 76-year-old writer. Somewhat to my surprise, I find I have very little to say to you. Our lives touched each other for an instant and then separated. Mine has improved since that day, while yours has deteriorated. You made a bad gamble and lost. I was the one with the luck… Perhaps, in the incarcerated decades that stretch out before you, you will learn introspection, and come to understand that you did something wrong. But you know what? I don’t care. This, I think, is what I have come to this courtroom to say to you. I don’t care about you, or the ideology that you claim to represent, and which you represent so poorly. I have my life, and my work, and there are people who love me. I care about those things.”

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