#u can use my shiny new inbox to tell me

[wigglesforonce]

first pfp change in a while… hello f1 followers plz don’t unfollow me

this will probably be a permanent one but i am going to explore my library of f1 photos to see if i can find one i lien more

[stronghours]

CUSTOMER SERVICE

E T S Y

Darling Fallon    Sep 3, 2013

Sensational (sin-sational!). i write on behalf of myself (S) and my lover (m). we have been ripped off by bulk-produced molded hoods before and i can only say HAND CUT LATEX ONLY never look back!! worth the money and will eventually pay for itself. neck fit like loving glove and adds dynamic intensifier to breathplay. Lovely proprietor replied prompt when “m” had questions re: breathability (she added extra breathing hole at no extra cost). class acts all around (and not just in our dungeon!) will return for more but “m” needs a break first if u get the drift lol1!! thanks to lady j!

Purchased item: DeMarco FetishWear – Latex Chrysalis Hood (translucent…

3 Helpful

  myMister   Aug 24, 2013

this one writes on behalf and with permission of MISTER. this one quaked with bliss when package arrived. truly awful to behold in the wise hands of MISTER. this one’s neck is small and delicate For His Pleasure and all item adjustments were made to order and did not affect shipping time. if this one could be so efficient For His Pleasure this one would be in heaven on earth. instead, this one is less than a hole. item truly enhanced <O sensation. without a doubt will be used over and over in this household for due punishments of this very worthless one. discrete pgk’ing. thanks to designer J for deepening this one’s service to MISTER.

(NOTE FROM MISTER – WILL PROPRIETER PLEASE PRIVATELY EMAIL TO DISCLOSE IF YOU ARE MALE/FEMALE/OTHER SO “myMister” (this one) WILL BE ABLE TO PROPERLY ADDRESS YOU IN ACCORDANCE WITH ITS FORMAL ROLE)

Purchased item: DeMarco FetishWear – Throttle Collar w/ attached Gas…

1 Helpful

  JulieJuice   August 3, 2013

LOL rip-off!!! cant believe all u ppl sucking this guys dick. says everywhere in product descript. (and you guys reviews!!) that custom sizing is no additl. cost but mine cost more!! only small alteration to titty holes cause of my cleave situation. bullshit. not buying from him again.

Response from J

Hi again Julie. If you check our many enlightening inbox conversations from 7/5-7/16 you will be reminded the additional cost was due to your request of more ring hinge insertions as the standard amount in pattern block “was not bling enough”. Cleavage was irrelevant. Sizing related alterations are always no added cost. Custom alterations requiring additional materials/effort and adjusted pricing will always be discussed and approved on client end before any exchange of payment.

Purchased item: DeMarco FetishWear – Hexagon Restrictor Harness…

HELPFUL?

  HannahCakes!    Jun 1, 2013

Hey Whats Up I’m Caleb (obviously don’t have an etsy) and using my lady’s account. She got the catsuit for my birthday and she looked so sexy like J-Lo or someone. Didn’t want her doin the latex stuff because I thought shed have to shave off all her pubes and personally i like that kind of thing a lot but no harm done. Anyway she was super sexy and the suit thing looked good and stayed together even when we started rockin. To other full bush guys out there if youre girl wants to wear the latex stuff SHE CAN KEEP HER BUSH she just has to use lube to oil up the bush that she has.

Purchased item: DeMarco FetishWear – Domina Catsuit w/ Pussycat Zipper (red…

7 Helpful

  HannahCakes!   3 months ago   Friend   Ignore

Caleb Review

Hi J,

Saw my boyfriend’s 6/1 review and I was like uh ohhh. I asked him to leave one because he went gaga over the catsuit, but I wasn’t expecting all the bush stuff. If you don’t want to be associated with that and want to delete, that’s ok on my end. A little embarrassing! – Hannah!

Reply from DeMarco FetishWear    3 months ago    Friend    Ignore

Hi Hannah. Please don’t worry about it, any positive review is welcome. His feedback has apparently hit a chord with some specific hesitations and concerns buyers have been experiencing but not confiding with me, so I plan on keeping it up for the time being. Enjoy your garment.

  JoeyoftheHerd    3 months ago   Friend   Ignore

Moo-cow snout muzzle thing – (idea i had)

Hi. Is this idea good

Reply from DeMarco FetishWear    3 months ago    Friend   Ignore

Hi Joey. Are you interested in a custom cow muzzle/mask, like the pup play masks on my page or are you just brainstorming for personal reasons?

Reply from JoeyoftheHerd    3 months ago    Friend    Ignore

idk it’s just an idea i had

Reply from DeMarco FetishWear    3 months ago    Friend    Ignore

It’s a cool idea

Reply from JoeyoftheHerd    3 months ago    Friend    Ignore

Thanks man i thought so 2

1234Brett10093456    3 months ago   Friend   Ignore

I REMEMBER YOU FROM RAWHIDE

JULES yes I know who you are and I know your name are you scared yet?? I remember when you used to hang with Roscoe out at Rawhide because Roscoe pretended to hire you because he secretly wanted to fuck and suck you till you cried and I saw all that. I have brown flippy hair, blue eyes and am tall/cut versatile but lean TOP. I know you faked being gay. You heard of bi-now-gay-later but have you heard of gay-then-straight-betrayer (you)? That is fucked up that you still sell stuff but pretend to be a gay guy because that makes your stuff sell better because the gay guys want to fuck you. I know you are faking because my muscle bud Tomas (latino) saw you making out with a ginger chick at the wet bar in Entrance last week. He said it was probably a joke but I know it wasn’t because he said he saw tongue. I wont let you be a breeder without a fight. I am willing to tell EVERYBODY YOURE SECRET. But I wont if you prove to me YOU CAN STILL BE GAY. Im attaching a pic of my cock so you know im not lying and can follow through. I will only believe YOU ARE GAY if we can see each other face/face (i can host only on fri- I have two roommates) and our cocks have to touch and you have to stay hard for at least five minutes while I suck and jack your cock and tongue your balls (shave or dont i will leave that up to you). condoms ok but if you want to be a breeder so bad maybe I will just breed your ass but if youre actually a gay guy you’ll like it and cum thick ropes as I fuck your dirty little slut hole and youll tell me youre a hole while I fuck it with the shiny precum head of my cut fucking cock (7inches erect). you will smell my hole and BECOME GAY again IT WILL HAPPEN  - Brett Costino

  TheSteelyDanMan   2 months ago   Friend   Ignore

Latex & Breastfeeding Concerns

Good morning, J I hope you are well. Returning customer, here. My kajira/wife and I are splinter Gor lifestylers (NOT KAOTIANS) [link] but are currently isolated due to our deviation from standard kajira beautification ideals and the arrival of our first child (girl - Gemma) two months ago. My wife’s submission has usually been expressed fashion-wise in various strict latex outfits, a few of which you have kindly provided us over the past couple of years. Naturally, the arrival of a mini-me results in some changes! My wife, insecure after birth, wants to return to strict full-coverage latex, but this desire is at odds with her physical situation of actively nursing Gemma and we both have worries. Does the constriction of latex effect or otherwise harm milk production, or could secondhand latex exposure harm our baby? I imagine you have catered to many lifestyle situations where this might be relevant so I thought I would ask. Thanks very much. LEO

Reply from DeMarco FetishWear    2 months ago    Friend    Ignore

Hi Leo. While I have catered to many lifestyles, I’m afraid I must exercise discretion in this situation, as it would be on par with giving medical advice. I will say any allergy is a possibility and one should exercise undue care with a very young infant, not just in matters of latex. I highly encourage you and your wife to discuss this with her doctor as frankly as possible. In the long run it might be worth reevaluating aspects of your wife’s submission and temporarily making do with latex pieces that do not restrict the breasts, while nursing is a part of her daily reality (I’m sure I don’t have to tell you examples are available on my page). Best of luck and congratulations on the new addition to your family.

  NoraBarnacle    2 months ago   Friend   Ignore

A sincere offer…

Several months ago, I bought a pair of latex gauntlet gloves from your shop. Since then, astonishing changes have come over me. I used to be high-powered, highly controlled, a formidable woman (natural ash blond, green eyes, 45”-40”-44”) I was determined to keep these feelings to myself, but I can no longer resist, as I wholeheartedly believe your Dominating spirit, imbued in the gauntlets, is leading me forcefully but masterfully into your care. If it pleases you, know I have not touched my aching slit for one month total as I am uncertain whether you desire me to feel pleasure that is not approved by you. There are no images of you on your site, but I have drawn an accurate picture of you in my mind and I know you are the Man that I never knew I was waiting for, the Man who will lead me, the Man who will hold my neck and strike my forehead to his knee in his insistence that I allow myself to be led. When I wear the gauntlets, they are your own gallant hands restricting my weak bones. I can no longer resist. I can no longer resist. I can no longer resist. I can no longer resist. I can no longer resist. I can no longer resist. I can no longer resist. I can no longer resist. I do not desire to resist. Please message back so I can properly present my acquiescence, body and soul, unto you. I squat disgracefully on my plump thighs, full of whorish tremor that makes me unworthy, but still I desire. I will service your home with my ardent hands and service your thick and striving cock with my wet tongue. Respond to this small soul. I submit to your gallant wisdom – A Secret Admirer

  RicoMetals   1 month ago   Friend   Ignore

Redhead Modle in Pic for Serve Her Serrated Corselette

Hey man-to-man who is she. I love redheads. Does she modle for other people/would she modle for my pieces? there’s no head in the pick – what’s her nose situation? we could all do collab and I think it would be hot. Let me kno - RICO

Reply from DeMarco FetishWear    1 month ago    Friend    Ignore

Hi Rico. I have not blocked you (yet) because said model wanted me to reply to you first and inform you, she’s already an established performer in her own right and does not want to model for a guy who “thinks I need some sissy seamstress to pimp me out to shitty welders online”. As I only have basic welding experience, I can offer no further comment or defense on your behalf.

  DerryBerry454   1 month ago   Friend   Ignore

Inquiry re: standard leather sleep-sack dimensions

Hello Miss J, quick question:

I will buy this item no hesitation no delay if you tell me right now about your vagina. Questions I prioritize:

1.     Color labia (outer)

2.     Color labia (inner – aroused)

3.     Clit length in centimeters or whatever measurement is most flattering to you

4.     Range of clit engorgement

5.     Depth of vaginal canal (I will allow ballpark figure as I know not everyone has graded speculums lying around)

6.     Percentage of clit orgasms v. vaginal orgasms – bonus points if you describe uterine orgasm, if that is your experience (no pressure to answer last part, as I understand it is not necessarily vagina-adjacent)

7.     Are you hairy? What color?

8.     When you wash your vagina do you douche or do you use fingers to rub through labia folds and that is it?

9.     Color of menstrual blood

10.  If you wear panties, do you find the crotch of your panties degrades due to PH of your vaginal discharge? (give me the qualities and I will calculate this for you)

While a picture of your vagina is welcome (and will only be for my private use) I really do like gathering these stats (I’m kind of a nerd) and would appreciate as much openness on your behalf as possible and you will benefit too because I’ll give you money for your lovely product. Talk to you soon! 😊

  B O A R D

[RUBBERVALLEY FIENDS THREAD 3/3 2006-PRESENT] TOPICS: 850 POSTS: 10,356

DungeonMaster (MOD 2): Hey people, we’ve reached the end of the summer and you know what that means – Ivan himself of the halls of Rubber Valley presents inaugural post of their annual sweeps week filming extravaganza – first photoset already up and we’ve got the goddamn brilliant LYDIA SUCKS sons! The greatest bitch on the face of the planet almost psyched us out but she’s here she’s low and she’s ready to blow. Vid upload will probably take till tomorrow to render but we’ve got some great pic galleries already. Ivan really spoiling us pigs lmfao. Seeing lots of setup and dress-up and behind scenes stuff for yall candid pervs. We’ve got full body latex and face coverage hoods and I see a breathing tube and the barn inversion setup. Possible inverted ceiling fuck? The boys can dream. Links to download pics results in PERMABAN – only official links to Rubber Valley site allowed, don’t know how often I have to say it. You want to pass ripped screenshots you do that through email *casts pearls before swine*

GOBgobGOB: no pic of lyds upside down yet ☹

LordJim: Not interested until I see Ivan haul out the FuckRacers from two years ago – wonder why he doesn’t bring those around more often? Great view stats on current vids and who doesn’t like a fat ass getting auto-fucked while she steers the go-cart supine?

SUCKPUNTER: lmfao all views are you bro

GOBgobGOB: D I R E C T H I T

SUCKPUNTER: hey lordjim where’d you learn the word supine

LordJim: Yeah “laugh out loud” very funny guys.

SUCKPUNTER: did you learn it at college

DungeonMaster (MOD 2): Lydia looks gr8 folks. Queen pristine and ready to cream. SUCKPUNTER – chill out because I’ve got my eye on you. Don’t take the bait Jim. You’re like thirty.

SUCKPUNTER: at least I don’t get off on bitches doing the pinewood derby

LockSTOCK2FUCKINGBARRELS: LYDIA!

GOBgobGOB: LYDIA!!!

McLovin: LYDIA LYDIA LYDIA

TheWorldofMartinAmis: Goddess. Wish she’d get her boobs done though.

LockSTOCK2FUCKINGBARRELS: same! I’ve been waiting for years for her to get into xtreme body mod. Right up her alley. If she’s at EXXXOTICA EXPO next year I’m going to try to get her meet and greet and ask. I know tattoo guys who’d pay HER to give her first tat.

McLovin: Lydia wouldn’t go. She’s like indie transgressive.

DungeonMaster (MOD 2): nice to see you again lockSTOCK. I see your POV but Lydia has several interviews where she says most of her viewers see her bod as a clean palate in the art of pain – as in, wounds have to go away in order for us to appreciate a fresh ruining ; ) tats and huge implants are a little tougher to work around. Anyway in my mind you can fix bad tits but you can’t fix bad attitude

ThatOneFootGuy: id suck her feet

McLovin: woah fuck 4th latex pic in dressing series with her mouth open and her eyes shut – who the lube guy with his arm right down her front?

SUCKPUNTER: lol hand clear to her pussy and hes not even hard faggot

McLovin: scope the ginger amazon in the background with camera – new girl? Don’t recognize. Didn’t know Ivan was bringing new people around this year’s sweeps.

LordJim: I wondered too when I saw. I’m sure DungeonMaster mod understands if I copy/paste following from Ivan (no pics, text w/actress info):

Newcomers are always welcome in RUBBER VALLEY (especially if they’re lovely, and especially if they’re ladies!) and this old goat is pleased to welcome DOMME LUX, our friendly neighbor down south in that little town called Chicago. Mysterious as she is alluring, you’ll see her shining light sampling tidbits of delight off our Valley Girls throughout the uploads this month (or even taking a crack at a couple!) We’re just getting to know her, but I have a feeling she’s a generous gal at heart as she kindly offered us the services of her Personal Valet, Jules DeMarco, who himself spoiled us all year with devious latex devices for our steadfast daring dollies after the unfortunate 2012 passing of our beloved torture designer Merrick Marvel (memoriam post 03/04/2012). Check out Jules’s Half-Bag Breast Mummifier in scheduled post 7/22 (Heather Bunny in the inverted Wench Wrench) the diabolical Arachnae-Hood (Lacey Jane, spinning in our trusty Landscape(her) Rolling Pin 7/16) and the Double-Fuck Full Body Boa Binder with eerie inflatable bubble hood (Lydia Sucks, finale post 7/31, don’t miss it, SUBSCRIBE). I must confess, we took advantage - the poor fella ran himself ragged helping us with film prep all week. So as an apology we let him get up close and personal with Rubber Valley’s reigning heroine LYDIA SUCKS fitting her in a custom four-limb black latex catsuit with half-face hood, made especially for her brave beautiful bod. He takes a good long time greasing her up before Ivan and Barry get her hoisted and joisted and in her best bitch-bat position among the rafters of the exalted Rubber Valley barn, where we leave her to squirm in terror! (but let’s get real – what scares Lydia? We’re wracking our brains!) Uh-oh, is Domme Lux looking jealous in the background? Is she plotting a little comeuppance for our Lovely Lady Lydia? Only one way to find out – SUBSCRIBE!

DungeonMaster (MOD 2): Np lordjim, if you hadn’t posted I was going to. Looks like we’ve got fresh meat in the valley.

TheWorldofMartinAmis: very pretty girl, but always bummed when a new one turns out to be top. Call me old fashioned, I come to the Valley for slaves.

SUCKPUNTER: firecrotch

GOBgobGOB: brb too busy crankin it. milky gingerbread titties come to daddy

McLovin: @TheWorldofMartinAmis, Ivan always has at least one femdom around. Room for everybody in the valley

LockSTOCK2FUCKINGBARRELS: holy shit I know that guy.

SUCKPUNTER: lmfao faggots know faggots

LockSTOCK2FUCKINGBARRELS: no for real. His real name is Jules Marinelli. I worked with him one summer lifeguarding beaches for the park’s district. Our boss found his website where he sells his sex stuff, and it was this whole big thing. Found the kink club Entrance through that (check it out if you’re in my hood ever – huge, clean, not too much gay shit, great ladies of all stripes hanging around, but limits on drinking if you’re trying to access certain levels). He’s bi. He’s either secretly Domme Lux’s slave or Domme Lux is his slave and it’s mega on the DL because it’d hurt her career if it got out she could ‘verse. There’s all this gossip.

SUCKPUNTER: bi guys r fags

DungeonMaster (MOD 2): SUCKPUNTER – that’s strike one. lockstock – not deleting your post because from what I can see JDM doesn’t/isn’t acting in explicit scenes, but let’s cool it with doxxing info. Looks like he’s had an experience with that before, and as a small business owner myself, I know how it can suck. We aren’t gossiping high school girls. Settle back and enjoy what Ivan gives us.

GOBgobGOB: *sees dudes in the chat and stops jacking off*

LockSTOCK2FUCKINGBARRELS: NP mod, feel free to delete it later before it causes problems.

TheWorldofMartinAmis: going back to previous discussion – don’t think a breast job automatically constitutes body modification

DungeonMaster (MOD 2): think about it martinamis, it’s a slippery slope – you want to see some swollen battered fish get destroyed, or a fresh natural girl get destroyed?

SUCKPUNTER: i am not a faggot and a whore’s a whore and im here to see whores fucking destroyed

GOBgobGOB: *tony soprano voice* she was a HOOOOER

SUCKPUNTER: fag or cunt all whores get fucked

LordJim: Mod, step up. This isn’t going to get better. With all due respect

SUCKPUNTER: fag or cunt ALL WHORES GET FUCKED

DungeonMaster (MOD 2): yeah, already done. That should be the last of him. Don’t know why I expected that situation to turn out differently.

  FROM: lydias-verified@terrorproductions.com

TO: JulesDM86@gmail.com

Subject: Debrief – valley week

Jules,

As discussed, attached is current info for my old webmaster service from when I had to run my own fansite. Decent price and decent vendor system. Can only be an improvement on what you have now. That is not an insult, but I know it sounds like one. Stay with me.

[link] [link] [link]

And above, the top three most trafficked boards I’ve found following my own career and the rubber valley gang. We’ve caused quite a stir already and its only July 15th. I wouldn’t count on this causing an uptick in your business, but I think you know that. The standard gentleman at home spending twenty bucks a month for guaranteed links to a woman being fucked inside out while wearing a sensory deprivation hood simply doesn’t translate him to spending 100-200 dollars, contacting a seller, taking measurements, and going through the effort to order he and his special girly the hood itself. But I know you believe you’ve chosen your life the same way I believe I’ve chosen my life and won’t whine. I will say, if your ego is bruised, that your clothes are wonderful. They feel maybe half like death. I’ll wear them again and again.

On a funnier note: I have accounts myself on all the above message boards and post semi-regularly. It might amuse you to do the same thing, but you need to be careful regarding your identity. Feedback from viewers is never relevant, but it needs to be pure (don’t ask me why – my brains are fucked out). I won’t tell you who I am, and you won’t tell me who you are. Maybe we’ll find each other.

I wouldn’t tell your Cathy, since some sensitive (if inaccurate) information is flying around. Your instinct towards privacy, while cute and old fashioned, is an apt instinct. Looks like the good people of Chicago can’t keep their fucking mouths shut. Will you be able to find a straight job if your work now goes up like a dead dog’s gut? Don’t despair. Your nice long cock dropped so well down my throat while your Cathy beat my clit with the edge of your belt (nice touch – whose idea was that?) so while you might not get another chance to perch in a lifeguard’s throne, you might very well have a future in film. You’re vigorous, discrete, disciplined, clean, and a cutie-pie. Have your Cathy make some films of you alone or you two together. It’ll excite her, so you have no choice but to be excited yourself. You’re excited reading this. You believe you chose this.

Anyway – Cathy! Don’t be insulted on her behalf. I loved playing with you both. She’s kind and a lot of fun, which are virtues I still let myself appreciate in others. Let her know I appreciate how she let me use you. She’s a good girl and has a good future in store, especially with her personal valet running her life. Pick her outfits, pick her makeup, pick her clients, pick her laundry soap – is it already like that? I want to be buried alive, but you want to be buried in chores. Please dream big, Jules.

Rubber valley is where I have the most fun out of all the shoots I have in a year, but I really was lucky that you two showed up. Poor old Merrick Marvel (not even that old – colon cancer). But out with him and in with you. I enjoyed our river talk and I felt very safe in the car with you at the wheel, though I know I tormented you a little (but I’m pretty sure Cathy helped you out later with that – will you write back to me what she did to you, and if she let you come?) At one point you were with Ivan in the garage, and I tried to have a little talk with her about oblivion, but she either understood my point and got scared, or simply didn’t understand. It’s unfortunate, kind of soul-sucking, how our dominant “loved ones” transform into necessary evils. Adjust the tube. Grasp the handle. Move the thigh. Use the vocal cord to form the order. But what do they know? I never knew how to explain.

I’ve attached some personal pictures of me. I like knowing that you have them. I won’t contact you again except under strict business purposes, so let me sum up. Serve Cathy well. Don’t let her get bullied. Flourish creatively. Keep that belt. Fuck as often as your body commands you to fuck (if I suspect that sometimes your body is Cathy’s body by proxy, then this number will double, perhaps triple, but the choice is out of your hands because she owns your cock). You have a lot of growing up to do. Don’t despair. More to come.

We won’t see each other soon, but we’ll see each other again. Ciao! 

I expect improvements.

XOXOXOXOXOXOX

Lydia S

[hongbab]

The Songbird - Wonshik snorts, half a smile quirking the left corner of his mouth upwards, but a beat later it dies down and he looks up with sadness in his eyes. “Please, don’t hurt Jaehwan,” he says quietly. “He’s not the one at fault.” (Leo/Ken, pg-13, 5622)

a/n: written for this prompt. this is probably not what you had in mind, anon, but i hope you’ll still like it;;

It’s 2.36am and Taekwoon is still sitting in front of his computer with his elbows on his desk, his fingers buried under his hair as he holds his forehead in his palms.

Everyone else from the department has already gone home and he should have done so as well, but instead, he keeps staring at the blaring monitor with the browser open at the intranet home page. He doesn’t know how to start this. Or, more like, he can’t start it without having to crawl out of his skin.

When Hakyeon called him into his office, Taekwoon thought he might want to praise him for single-handedly catching the head of that lowly gang of drug smugglers, maybe even tell him to take a few days off as a reward. And Hakyeon praised him, told him he was his best man, and his eyes were sparkling, a happy but nervous smile plastered on his face. However, he didn’t give Taekwoon any rewards, but—and he looked troubled when he did this—gave him a new case that most detectives had failed to solve thus far.

“You are our only hope,” Hakyeon said, sliding a file towards Taekwoon on the desk. “He’s a fucking phantom and everyone’s so lost.”

So, for the last three hours, Taekwoon has been sitting behind his computer with the file open in front of him, pictures and screenshots and handwritten notes and printed pages all scattered around, the name ‘Songbird’ repeated on every single piece of paper. This is torture and he’s already cringing so hard.

He has solved so many cases during his career: from criminal possession of weapons through mysterious deaths to some mafia-level shit, and now he’s been assigned this. He hates it more than anything before.

Maybe he’ll just start tonight, proceed until the point his colleagues have been unable to move on from, and say he can’t do it.

The Songbird’s website is entitled—surprise, surprise—‘Songbird’ and it’s pretty much just a blank index page with a high-resolution picture of some kind of bird* with the weirdest reddish-yellowish-orange feathers—the ends of which look like locks of red hair—and yellow and green head that Taekwoon has ever seen (he hasn’t seen a great many kinds of birds in his life). He clicks the image and a welcoming page pops up, asking him to either sign up or sign in.

This is it. This is where he should stop.

Taekwoon lets out a sigh and clicks the sign up button which directs him to a page that asks for his e-mail address, name, gender, the date of his birth, and the details of his credit card.  How can this person be so fucking obvious.

He digs out the expired credit card Hakyeon handed him with the documents from under the pile of papers and types up the numbers, filling in the form entirely with fake personal data. He clicks the confirmation link in the e-mail he receives in his—again—fake inbox, and on the new page that pops up the title reads, ‘Welcome to Paradise’, a text box appearing underneath and asking him to write a letter to the owner of the site about how he found them, what he wants from them, and what he wishes to do to them.

Taekwoon lets his head fall on the desk and the pain in his forehead grounds him enough not to start screaming in frustration.

 *

When the mobile phone next to his hand pings with a new text, Taekwoon almost falls off his chair in surprise.

It’s been four days since he signed up to the Songbird’s website and two days since the Songbird sent him a message in which he thanked Taekwoon for signing up and asked for his Kakao ID so they could chat there. The message was full of unnecessary emojis and tildes, and ended with an “xoxo, your Songbird”, forcing Taekwoon to stifle a hysterical laugh.

He gulps down some of his now cold latte to calm himself and takes the cheap, bad quality smartphone—a tool he was given to execute the investigation—into his hand, swiping up with a clammy finger to unlock the screen.

~Songbird~ hi Leo~~

He squints at the cheesy alias he’s chosen to use (if this person is a Songbird, Taekwoon might as well be something big and scary that would eat a fucking bird for dessert), and looks around in the office to see if someone is looking. Sanghyuk, on his right, is immersed in a video of weird game characters instead of actually working, so he takes a deep breath and replies.

Leo hi

~Songbird~ is something wrong? :^(

Leo no, why do you think something’s wrong?

~Songbird~ just the simple hi :/ i hope my message didn’t upset you, i was actually so surprised by your emotional letter~ hehe

Leo oh I was just… ugh I might have got a little carried away with that letter

~Songbird~ it’s okay it was really cute :3 i really liked the part where you wrote you’d like to take me out for a nice dinner and kiss me goodnight afterwards^^ you seem so sweet ♥

Leo thank you

~Songbird~ are you by any chance replying to me in such short sentences bc you’re shy? haha

Taekwoon puts the phone on the desk and drags his hands over his face, hating how his stomach is in knots from this whole thing. He’s never been a good communicator, neither has he been good at texting people in a smooth way, especially not if he was supposed to sound flirty. Maybe this is the point where he should hand the phone over to Sanghyuk to dig into the Songbird's ID specifications, or maybe he should just drop the phone into the toilet, possibly attempt to drown himself in the sink afterwards, but he sniffles instead and drinks the rest of his awful latte before taking the phone into his hands again.

Leo I’m not very good at texting people talking to you like this makes me a little flustered

~Songbird~ OMG so cute!! u don’t need to be flustered sweetheart you’re doing great! :) would it be better if i sent u a kiss?

Taekwoon all but chokes on his own saliva and Sanghyuk glances at him from the corner of his eye, ignoring him anew and going back to his video when Taekwoon stops coughing. His fingers are trembling on the screen when he types up his answer.

Leo I giess *guess

More than a minute passes without a new text and Taekwoon feels all the blood leaving his body to creep up into his cheeks, making him blush furiously. He shakes his legs nervously under the desk and his heart is going crazy and he’s just so fucking angry with himself for being such an anxious piece of shit—he might even be a little excited and it just makes him all the more annoyed.

~Songbird~ sent a video

The small clip shows a pair of pretty, plush and very pink lips that are pursed and they get as close to the camera as possible, a very loud smacking sound coming from the speakers of the phone. Taekwoon mutes the damn thing as fast as his jittery fingers let him, and when he looks back down at the screen, he sees the lips parting, revealing snow white teeth as the Songbird smiles sweetly.

And Taekwoon is mesmerized.

He replays the video three times, trying to imagine how the Songbird looks like, but he’s lost and all he can think of is that genuine smile and the little air kiss.

His legs stop shaking.

~Songbird~ better now?^^

Leo it was cute

~Songbird~ honestly you’re so adorable~~ I hope you’d still wanna kiss me after that dinner date

Leo yeah, I would your lips are pretty

~Songbird~ aww thanks i gtg now but i’ll get back to you soon sweet dreams honey ♥

Leo good night

Another night ends with Taekwoon headbutting his desk.

 *

“Here.”

Taekwoon turns away from the document he’s typing up and glances at the mobile device on his desk, Sanghyuk letting go of it as he plops down in his chair. There’s a devilish smirk on his face that Taekwoon knows means something awful, his eyes already narrowing before Sanghyuk would say anything more.

“Have you found him?”

“I found an IP address, but that doesn’t mean much,” Sanghyuk says, leaning back in his chair. “But first—”

“I said no questions,” Taekwoon grumbles. “You’ve read the whole thing, haven’t you?”

“Read it, watched the video and all,” Sanghyuk replies and his smirk turns into a full grin. “You have such a way with words.”

“Shut up,” Taekwoon scoffs. “I need to get him to trust me. And I told you not to read it.”

“Yeah, well, that’s why I read it. He must have some very low standards if he thinks you’re cute, but anyways, what we now know is that the device he uses belongs to a certain Mr Kim Wonshik.”

“Which means that his real name is Kim Wonshik, right?”

“Maybe,” Sanghyuk shrugs. “He might have stolen it or something. But if I were you—and thankfully, I’m not—” Taekwoon sends him a death glare here, “I’d start off by digging up some info about this Wonshik guy and ask him if he knows anything about your little birdie. Or, if he is your little birdie.”

“He’s not my— oh, fuck off.”

Sanghyuk sniggers and turns back to his computer.

~Songbird~ sent a photo

Taekwoon snatches the phone away from the edge of his desk before Sanghyuk could touch it first, standing up to walk away so he wouldn’t have to deal with the nerdy brat’s examining stare as he opens the photo.

His breath catches in his throat when the picture finally loads and Taekwoon's back hits the wall of the empty corridor as he sways a little. It’s an almost full-body photograph and the person in it is wearing a black, silk-like bathrobe, the thin, shiny material sticking to a frail-looking body, the light enhancing every curve and edge underneath. The hem of the robe bunches just under the boy’s hip bones, leaving a pair of smooth, pale thighs visible, a large part of the Songbird’s chest also uncovered. He’s apparently lying on a bed, and Taekwoon notices a never before seen part of his face: a prominent nose above the plump lips which he has already seen at least twenty times in the video.

The Songbird is pouting.

~Songbird~ it’s such a lazy morning what are you doing sweetie?

Leo working

~Songbird~ oh you poor thing :( and what do you do?

Taekwoon takes a deep breath and writes down what comes to his mind first.

Leo I’m a lawyer

~Songbird~ !!! sounds exciting tbh i wish you were here now

Taekwoon slides down against the wall and crouches, his knees too weak to keep him upright any longer. He swallows around a lump in his throat.

Leo why?

~Songbird~ i’m bored and lonely :(

Leo do you think I’d be entertaining enough to make you feel less bored?

After some thinking, he adds a spiritless

haha

~Songbird~ well i have a few ideas about how we could pass time~~ not sure if i should tell you abt them at this point you still seem a little nervous :D

Leo I’m a little nervous but I mean you can tell me if you want

~Songbird~ first you could play with my hair bc i really like that^^ and then maybe we could kiss some hehe and if u feel up to it we could get rid of my bathrobe andddd i’ll let u know abt the rest if we can meet up sometime ♥

Taekwoon feels his limbs going numb, but despite the feeling, he springs up from the floor and locks the phone, putting it into his pocket as he starts striding towards the bathroom. He opens the tap and tries to stand as far away from the counter as possible so his crotch won’t brush against it, making everything happening down there a lot worse, and splashes icy water into his face, tapping it into his cheeks to calm himself. When he looks up into the mirror with some water drops running down his skin, he sees dark shadows under his eyes, his skin looks almost grey and there’s a flush across his cheeks, and he has a few more crow’s feet now than the last time he looked at himself for real.

He really needs to take a few days off and preferably get laid on those days, too, because withdrawing from any kind of intimacy with others has been taking a toll on him and now he’s hard just thinking about a naked stranger whose face he hasn’t even seen yet. How sick is he…

He also needs to see the Songbird behind bars as soon as possible.

When he storms back to his desk, Sanghyuk blinks up at him curiously, leaning into his personal space to peer at his monitor screen.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“I’m going to find Kim Wonshik.”

“And why are you so upset about this plan of yours?” Sanghyuk arches an eyebrow. “Did something happen?”

“Don’t talk to me now,” Taekwoon snarls.

“Rude.”

 *

Taekwoon can’t exactly say he’s prepared for meeting the Songbird just now, but he stands in front of a door with a hand raised to it and ready to knock. He doesn’t really know what he’s going to do if the Songbird is the one who opens the door for him, and he doesn’t know what he’s going to do if it’s someone else.

So many years of being a detective and now he’s nervous about meeting a civilian.

He knocks on the door and waits, the knob turning after a few moments.

“Um, hi,” the guy standing in the doorway says, looking confused.

He is not the Songbird and Taekwoon is a hundred percent sure about it; he’s looked at the Songbird’s almost full-body selfie enough times to memorise his apparent proportions, his skin tone, the fragility etched into all of his visible body parts. The person in front of him is tall and lean-bodied and has a tattoo peeking from the collar of his tank top and Taekwoon almost heaves a sigh when he notices it.

“Detective Jung Taekwoon,” he announces, holding up his badge. “I’d like to have a few words with you.”

The guy goes pale, but steps aside and lets Taekwoon into his small studio flat, shuffling to the couch to fetch his slippers.

“Are you Kim Wonshik?” Taekwoon asks, looking around the place so he doesn’t have to look the guy in the eye, still feeling wrong-footed from the whole thing just because the Songbird is involved.

“Yeah,” the man says and Taekwoon closes his eyes for a moment in relief. “What’s going on?”

“Do you know the Songbird?” Taekwoon inquires then, pocketing his hands so he won’t fidget so obviously.

“Song— what,” Wonshik looks even more confused, standing in the middle of his flat in a pair of basketball shorts and a white tank top. He scratches the back of his head awkwardly. “Do you mean Jaehwan?”

“Jaehwan?” Taekwoon arches an eyebrow, his head snapping to Wonshik curiously.

“Ah, you don’t— oh,” Wonshik deflates and if possible, even more blood leaves his cheeks. “I— you might not be talking about him.”

“Has a website through which he recruits people he can trick for money by selling his body?” Taekwoon asks with a little bit of acid to it, and the blood returns to Wonshik's cheeks at that, turning it red.

“Listen, he’s not—”

“Do you know anything about his current whereabouts?”

“I don’t,” Wonshik says firmly and it’s true; Taekwoon sees the sincerity in his eyes and maybe some… sadness, too. “And even if I did, I wouldn’t tell anybody.”

“Yes, well,” Taekwoon snorts, “that would earn you a few years in jail and not in the same cell with him. Just saying. Anyways, he’s got a phone number that is supposed to be yours. Did you possibly give him a device to use?”

Wonshik opens his mouth and then promptly closes it. He makes a face as he asks, “Okay, can I get a lawyer at this point?”

“You could,” Taekwoon replies a little impatiently. “But I don’t think you want to go into the process just yet; you’ll have enough time for that later. So?”

“Do you want me to tell you how I’m connected to him?” Wonshik squints. “Like, everything?”

“By all means, yes.”

“Alright, well—” Wonshik's bottom hovers above a chair and he motions towards the one closer to Taekwoon, although a little hesitatingly. “Sit down, if you want.”

“Thank you.”

Taekwoon pulls out the chair and sits, lacing his fingers on the table top.

“So,” Wonshik clears his throat, “I’d actually heard about Jaehwan's site from a friend and—”

“Who is that friend?”

Wonshik furrows his brow in judgement, his facial expression turning dark. Taekwoon doesn’t budge, but he can feel how much he’s annoying Wonshik.

“His name is Hongbin, Lee Hongbin,” Wonshik replies with a small sigh. “I’m not sure how he knows Jaehwan but I think he said something about some high school they attended together? So, I was, like, really under the weather and I’d been like that for a while at that point and Hongbin suggested I try meeting with Jaehwan.” He pauses, shutting his eyes for a second. “Jaehwan and I, we talked a lot through e-mails, it was a bit like online friendship at first, but then I… I don’t know, I kind of started to feel something for him. We met up after a while and talked a lot and started meeting each other from time to time.” He glances up at Taekwoon, his face flushed again. “I just really liked Jaehwan and um, well, he said he didn’t like me like that, but he still wanted to be friends with me, though it was difficult because of his… circumstances. I gave him my old phone because he once mentioned how much more comfortable it would be to talk to people by using a smartphone instead of e-mailing each other.”

“Are you saying he’s been operating a website which actually brings him a lot of money, but there was a time when he didn’t have a phone?” Taekwoon asks, disbelieving.

“The website is not his and he said he can’t have a phone because it’s dangerous,” Wonshik says, now obviously concerned that he’s saying too much. He averts his eyes. “The whole thing is totally different from how you see it.”

“Care to share how it’s different?”

Wonshik leans back in his chair, his face haggard like he has aged 20 years during their conversation. He looks broken and now it’s Taekwoon who feels confused.

“I don’t want to talk about that,” Wonshik mumbles. “It’s— it’s just not my business to talk about, you know? I’ve never really been involved in the story apart from being Jaehwan's… friend, or whatever.”

“Are you currently in contact with Jaehwan?”

“No,” Wonshik shakes his head. “He’s not allowed to contact me.”

“What do you mean ‘not allowed’?”

Wonshik makes a wailing noise.

“Can we please stop now?”

“Alright,” Taekwoon takes a deep breath and stands up. “Thank you for your contribution, though; you’ve been a great help. Here’s my contact if you happen to remember something you wouldn’t like to keep to yourself.”

Wonshik slowly reaches out for the business card Taekwoon is offering him, turning it around between his fingers, looking at it, but probably not actually seeing it.

“Are you a real cop?” he asks, blinking up at Taekwoon.

“I am,” Taekwoon nods. “I have a gun and all.”

Wonshik snorts, half a smile quirking the left corner of his mouth upwards, but a beat later it dies down and he looks up with sadness in his eyes.

“Please, don’t hurt Jaehwan,” he says quietly. “He’s not the one at fault.”

 *

Leo hey

~Songbird~ oh hello~ what’s up?

Leo I’ve been thinking and I wanted to ask you if we could meet

~Songbird~ finally haha ofc we can sweetie when would u like to meet?

Leo maybe tonight? if possible?

~Songbird~ sure^^ can u come to the hotel i’m staying at?

No one can really accuse Taekwoon of not trying his best as he parks his car in front of the four-star hotel and turns the rear-view mirror towards himself, examining his own face. He looks like he normally does, really; poker face and a cutting glance, his mouth a tight line. He did spend a little more time combing his hair than he usually does and he also took a shower because he felt like he needed it, and it’s not like he’s dressed fancy in just a T-shirt and a pair of jeans with his favourite sneakers, though the extra sprinkle of cologne might have been too much. He runs a hand over his face, trying to make his stupid heart understand that this is work, this is not a date and if everything goes well, he’ll leave this place with Jaehwan sitting in the back with a pair of handcuffs around his wrists, and then he’ll have some paperwork to do at the station. He’ll be in bed by midnight, content and happy and tomorrow Hakyeon will tell him he’s getting a bonus for doing an excellent job on this case.

It’s going to be okay. This is going to work out.

Taekwoon tries very hard to keep his composure as he tells the receptionist he’s there to visit the guest in room 524 and gets the assent, his legs feeling heavy as they carry him into the lift.

Jaehwan sent him a picture earlier, of himself, clad in only an oversized white T-shirt and what must have been the hem of his briefs peeking, pale thighs and pink knees and muscular calves all on display. He asked Taekwoon if he thought that shirt was okay for tonight and Taekwoon remembers the mirror selfie now as he throws his head back against the unforgiving metal wall, closing his eyes.

It’s going to have to be okay.

The door to room 524 opens after his second knock and Taekwoon freezes up immediately.

It’s Jaehwan standing in the doorway; he can tell not only from the T-shirt he’s already seen in the selfie but also from the broad shoulders and small waist, from the shapely legs covered by the black fabric of a pair of trousers. And Jaehwan's face is beautiful; his eyes two sparkling, almond shaped gemstones above the perfect curve of his nose, his lips plump and red even like this, when he’s not pouting. His hair is a honey brown colour and looks silky with his fringe pushed back from his forehead but a tiny lock is hanging there still, like it didn’t want to be restrained by hair spray. Taekwoon feels his jaw drop slightly.

"Hi," Jaehwan says in the most pleasant voice Taekwoon has ever heard, a wide, somewhat crooked smile spreading on his lips and the slightest of dimples appearing on the two sides of his cheeks. "Come in."

Taekwoon blinks a few to clear his head, though he doesn't succeed. He steps into the hotel room that looks quite cool considering it's only a four-star hotel, the furniture simple and the bedsheets crisp and white. He doesn't know how to proceed.

Jaehwan closes the door and pads to him with his naked feet, standing in front of him with a gentle smile on his face. Taekwoon feels a blush spreading over the bridge of his nose.

"I—" he starts without a clear plan about what he really wants to say. "I— I'm—"

"Ssh," Jaehwan whispers and then laughs, cupping Taekwoon's cheeks in his hands. "It's going to be alright. You're here now."

Taekwoon's heart skips a beat and returns to its job at full speed as Jaehwan pulls him in and presses his lips against his own, kissing him slowly, sweetly. It only registers in the back of Taekwoon's mind that he shouldn't go into it, the end of his train of thought just slipping out of his grasp, leaving him helpless and defenceless in the face of Jaehwan's citrusy perfume and the softness of his lips, the warmth of his mouth, and his bony fingers in Taekwoon's hair.

Jaehwan's waist is small but just the right size in Taekwoon's hold and he feels himself melt against the boy, Jaehwan swallowing a quiet mewl when it escapes his throat.

He doesn't want to stop this.

Jaehwan pulls away after too little time, a hand resting on the side of Taekwoon's neck, his thumb touching his pulse point. He looks like a peach blossom, Taekwoon thinks, his lips even redder and his cheeks tinted with a somewhat dark shade of pink, eyes fluttering as he looks at Taekwoon.

"You're different from how I imagined," Jaehwan says, tilting his head to the side. "A lot more handsome."

Taekwoon blinks a few in embarrassment, suddenly too aware of the hands on him, of his hands on Jaehwan. He pulls back entirely.

"Uh, can we talk?" he asks.

You know, I'm actually here to arrest you—honestly, what the fuck is he doing.

"Talk?" Jaehwan asks and glances away into a corner. "What do you want to talk about?"

"Jaehwan, I—"

Jaehwan stills entirely, pricking up his pointy ears, the dismay clearly visible on his face as he starts breathing faster, his lips parting.

“Let’s go to the bar,” he says urgently, and a moment later he’s grabbing Taekwoon's wrist, tugging him out of the room and almost running through the corridor.

They stop in a corner just by the fire exit and Jaehwan—as small as he looks—pushes at Taekwoon's shoulders, making him fall against the wall with a yelp.

“I thought we were going to the bar?” Taekwoon mumbles.

“No,” Jaehwan replies, furrowing his brow. “We just had to get out of there. Who are you? How do you know my name?”

“Wonshik,” Taekwoon says. Jaehwan's pretty eyes narrow and he seems to puff up a little. “And I’ll tell you who I am if you tell me why we had to get out of the room.”

“It’s bugged so he’ll know if you want to hurt me,” Jaehwan jabbers and that doesn’t serve with too much information. “You’re a cop, aren’t you?”

It feels like someone has just poured a bucket of ice water over his head and Taekwoon feels himself tense up. Jaehwan doesn’t seem to be particularly surprised anymore, nor does he look scared with his hands keeping Taekwoon's shoulders pinned to the wall; all he looks is angry and disappointed and hurt. And for some reason, Taekwoon feels ashamed.

“Listen,” Taekwoon starts, “what you’re doing is illegal and—”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Jaehwan rolls his eyes. “You were playing so well, I wouldn’t have thought— fucking Wonshik.”

“Okay, so, um,” Taekwoon straightens and forces Jaehwan's hands off his shoulders and instead, takes his wrists in his grasp. “I think it’ll be best if I take you to the station now.”

“No!” Jaehwan cries out, apparently shocked by his own volume. He shakes Taekwoon's hands off his wrists. “Don’t you understand? I’m not the one you should be after.”

“Yeah, well, you’ve tricked twenty-three people for money in the last few months; I’m pretty sure you’re the one I should be after,” Taekwoon replies, now getting angry.

“Has Wonshik told you about Hongbin?” Jaehwan asks, his eyes strangely wide like he’s afraid of the name.

“He said he’d heard of you from him.” Taekwoon knits his eyebrows. “Does he have anything to do with this whole thing?”

“Does he— oh my God,” Jaehwan goes pale and as he falls silent, Taekwoon can hear the vibration of his phone in the pocket of his trousers. Jaehwan fishes it out, closing his eyes for a second and taking a deep breath as he looks at the screen, swiping to take the call. “Hey. No, it’s nothing. We just needed something to make the atmosphere less tense,” Jaehwan chuckles and he’s putting up a perfect act until his eyes wander up to Taekwoon's face and he bites his lower lip. “You want to come here? Ah, but we haven’t— I’m not… I’m not in danger, Hongbin,” his voice goes low and he almost whispers, “I don’t think you should come here.”

Taekwoon feels his hands ball up into fists, the confusion irking him more than anything. He wants Jaehwan to stop talking on the phone and explain everything, to untangle this mess in his head, and also—he slaps himself mentally at this—maybe to kiss some more. Fuck everything.

“Okay,” Jaehwan says dejectedly. “I love you, too.”

That’s a nice little figurative kick in the gut.

Jaehwan ends the call and lowers his head, and he looks so tiny as he keeps staring at the floor.

“He’s coming here,” Jaehwan sighs and looks up at Taekwoon with tears shining in his eyes. “This is all your fault and I… I don’t want to betray him, but I’m so tired.”

“Do you… that is… do you want to tell me what’s going on?”

“I don’t really have a choice, now do I?” Jaehwan laughs hollowly and then he plops down on the floor. Taekwoon follows him down there and sits, watching as Jaehwan plays with a loose thread of his sock. “You’ll probably think I’m crazy and that this is unreal, but… so, the thing is that Hongbin had come up with this idea about half a year ago, I think? That we could make money with… well, me, because he said that a lot of men think I’m pretty?” He pauses.

“You’re really pretty,” Taekwoon says before he could think twice and then averts his eyes, a blush creeping up on his neck. Jaehwan snorts.

“I hate that you’re still so sweet when I’m making a confession that’s probably going to get me in jail,” he says. “But anyways, the point is that we’d set up that site and he’s not doing it… in such an immoral way? He only takes the money of those I agree to meet up with and as soon as he gets the confirmation from me that the guy has shown up, we charge their card. Your money has probably already been taken, actually.”

“I used an expired card,” Taekwoon mumbles.

Jaehwan laughs and this time it’s a happy one. He glances up at Taekwoon and says, “You’re not playing fair either.”

“Yeah, but I have legal permission for that,” Taekwoon replies and that makes Jaehwan chuckle again, the sound of it making a bunch of crazy butterflies swarm in Taekwoon’s stomach. “Are you, by any chance, you know… together? You said you loved him, too.”

That apparently saddens Jaehwan and his shoulders sag, his fingers trembling in the air and he stops playing with the thread.

“He really watches out for me and keeps me safe. It did start out like… dating, but I’ve been…” a deep breath, “I’ve got so tired of being used, because… I actually needed to… sometimes do service so those people I met up with could spread the word about this whole thing and we could get more guests and more money, but I didn’t have to do it every time. I’m just… I’m scared of getting out.”

“Scared?” Taekwoon asks. “Is he… threatening you or something?”

“No, of course not,” Jaehwan shakes his head. “I just… I knew there’d be trouble and I’m scared of… the consequences. For both of us.”

“I’m sorry,” Taekwoon says and he knows how empty it sounds even if he feels close to angry tears from the whole situation. He has never before felt this strongly that he wanted to just disappear, he’s never wanted to jump into a different universe and start a new life from scratch as much as he does now. He doesn’t want to be Jung Taekwoon; he wants to be that funny-looking bellboy down the hall.

“There’s really nothing to do, right?”

Jaehwan exhales shakily and his eyes are huge and full of worry, sorrow, and regret. Taekwoon takes his fingers from his crossed ankles and holds his cold hands in his palms, lets Jaehwan bury his face into the crook of his neck, his lips quivering against Taekwoon's skin.

Jaehwan wilts in Taekwoon's hold like a small flower that suddenly got picked out of the soil and left under the piercing sun to die.

 *

The last time detective Jung Taekwoon sees his Songbird it’s in his cage.

Jaehwan has dark shadows contouring his glassy eyes and his skin is almost grey, his shoulder blades visible even under his shirt as if his wings have got torn out, leaving only the stubs there.

Taekwoon touches two fingers to the metal bars, tries to get closer to Jaehwan who is sitting in the corner, only half facing him, hugging his knobby knees to his chest.

Taekwoon wants to tell him he’ll get him out of there as soon as he can, he wants to tell him how he has already given his badge back, how he has already quit just so he can help, but Jaehwan doesn’t seem like he wants to hear any of those.

Taekwoon let him out of his prison only to lock him up in an entirely different way.

The Songbird can’t be free.

*it’s a raggiana bird-of-paradise

[monolid-monologues]

I am my worst critic and chief caretaker. I am independent. Hear me roar.

#7.

I'm late to rehearsal. Again. 20 min. 30 min. An hour even. The usual.. I'm playing "how late can i REALLY be?" Exactly how late is too late when there's no one else waiting? Oh pfffT WELL "Let's PUSH IT." .... Am having a hard time distinguishing Doing Myself a Favor and Doing Myself an Injustice. How much does "being late" matter when i'm the only one concerned? There is a special strain of STRICT i am missing. It's not right to be late to your own thing. Your thing you're doing for you. That thing no one asked for. The thing you're only doing because you want to. Yes, the hand back there. Yes? Says an itchy scratchy little PIPSQUEAK voice in the back: what if i'm simply embracing the rare freedom my solitude allows? Is that steaming hot bullshit? What if i mean it?

In solitude, we come into our independence. After a history of frequent solitude, we may like it. And then we need it. Having experienced the self-healing wonders of independence, we more than need it, we celebrate it. A prized possession. Non-negotiable. We earned it. We dug it up. We nurtured it. It is both impressively healed scar and shiny trophy. A shiny, impressive trophy-shaped scar. Our independence endows the superpower ability to Feel Alone and Feel Happy at the same time. All the "finding yourself" "being with yourself" you've been doing, whether you know you're doing it or not, all that work thus far, is worth it when you get to remember, and really believe: You are Enough. Our independence protects us. What's the armor for? I wonder what we're afraid of.

I'm afraid

dependence is burdensome. on everyone. On you, who I need. On me, whose self, from needing you, is lacking. I'm afraid dependence is high risk. unseemly. unnecessary. "I depend on you!"  -- Can you imagine saying that to your friend? Best friend. Family member. Doesn't it ring a lil freaky? For a lot of us, it's so much easier to say "You can depend on me." (I'm not lacking, but it's okay if you are.) That'll slip right off the tongue. Even if you're not actually up to it.

So what if i'm late to my own rehearsal. I don't need to explain myself to anyone. I do not prefer working alone. yet here i am. Mostly because i moved back to LA with no collaborators to call. So here i am. Maybe i may as well relish the tiny privilege of getting to show up whenever the H i feel like it.

Independence. Free of attachments. Impervious to the consequences of our spinning world. Minimizing hurt. An efficient social strategy. Also independence: not having to explain yourself, to anyone. But, if that starts to become you couldn't explain yourself, even if you should? If that starts to become: I'd rather not connect, because, i'm fine as is. I'm independent. ? If a great perk of independence is reporting to no one.... a grave danger must be losing the musculature for it. Or even, just, forgetting its value. I know these weekly blog entries are good for me. By reporting to myself, to you, to Whatever Something outside of myself, I'm flexing my expressive muscles. I'm willfully practicing my desire to Connect. And to stay in Touch. I'm engaging my reflection. And staring it down. I'm accounting for myself. I value being in touch. I survive by being in touch. With myself. And with others in the world.

thank you for being here. I CAN’T LIE. Being late to my #partyof1 rehearsals is A RED FLAG. It's happening too easily, too much. Up until now, I've been telling myself: it's fine, you adjust, you're doing good work in spite of it, so that's good. It's good. I'm fine. I don't need to answer to anyone. Just myself. As in: if i can rationalize it to myself, that's all that matters. I wonder. About all the times in my personal life i decided i couldn't be bothered to push past my walls and reach out with my perspective. To explain myself. To account for my feelings with them. All the times i decided they don't need to know. at least i know. In other words, i don't want to answer to you. I answer to no one.

Once upon a time, there was a little toenail. 

It kept getting hit, in this one spot, and it waited, until something was more wrong and more painful than just getting hit in that one spot. The habitual inability to give what is hard for you to give -- ingrown baggage. It's gonna hurt and when it does it'll be too late. Maybe a good fortuitous YANK will help? and you just pray there's no infection?

12 rehearsals clocked.

It should've been 13. Number 11 was last Monday. Number "12" was supposed to be last Thursday. I didn't make it. I didn't go. i'm too tired. (I miss rehearsal for the first time......) So "12" happens the following Saturday. For the first time in rehearsal, on Monday i am so tired i can't work like i've been. No intensive, lengthy warm-up. No meticulous loosening of all my joints. No ungodly long duration of just-for-shits movement exploration. I'm so tired. I just got back from Davis, 6 hours up and 6 hours back so maybe that had something to do with it lol. YES. Going from a 6 hour drive to an 8 hour work day to the gym then to rehearsal WOULD tire a girl out. Even so, i can't afford to be tired in rehearsal. With only about 20 hours a month to work on my show, it's critical I have energy for it. Interestingly enough, in pushing through the exhaustion, i felt some surprising developments in the work. I slowed wayyyyyy down. IT DID SOMETHING. Forget pushing through the text to cover as much ground, as many pages, as possible. I let myself sit, in silence, in discomfort, in suspense. I resist turning the page. resist moving on. stay where you are. go back. collect yourself. begin again. Tiny surprises emerge from beginning again. Takes me 2 hours to rehearse 4 pages. It's actually somehow MORE taxing, but something's working, and it fuels me through. Slowly, and again. And again. and again. The same four pages. My play feels strange. Every line sounds weird. I feel unfamiliar.

Be true to who you are. Be your own person. 

And if this person flaked on their own rehearsal Thursday? Note to self: Take what you feel. And move it.

I resist "erasing" my mistakes.

In rehearsal, sometimes there's a pressure to perform as if if it were the final product. To make it a better "final product" moment with every iteration. I told this pressure to suck my tired ass. *high five* There lives an odd and quite bewildering mission to produce - in rehearsal - the moment i wish to see in performance. It's tempting. You want to see your show advance its "performance-ready shape" every day, every new rehearsal. Directors may desire to see their actors improve as if the journey of an actor's body is like the trajectory of climbing up some stairs. Upward. Diagonal. Linear. To use rehearsal to try to predict the final performance, rather than to explore its possibilities, seems a shame. seems counter-intuitive. This is what i gathered in my slow Monday rehearsal.

Yes, Rose, you are getting very tired from a lot of things.

It's going to impact your ability to rehearse. You are not a machine. You need rest. If you don't prioritize your rest when you need it, this is only the BEGINNING of your flakey potential. *Cue scare tactics....*

Fearing i'm not making the right choices.

Letting this fear co-opt me into believing there is such a thing as the right choice. I love myself for a lot of things right now. It doesn't stop me from being so hard on myself. I'm struggling to balance Discipline and Generosity, Instability and Patience. I know there's a harmony somewhere. Maybe i've had so many washed up ideas and failed projects and unsuccessful days that i dreamed up over the past twenty three years, that i just can't stand it anymore. Too many balls i dropped. Too many rain checks i never cleared. Too many days i've scheduled for myself that never did manifest. Too many mornings i don't wake up as early as i planned. Too many of my OWN rehearsals i've been late to. Too many of my OWN appointments i've failed to show up for. Too much I've let slip through my fingers in the name of "Because i can." or "I don't have to." 

Need you.  Love, Me.

* * *

i’ve committed to being vulnerable in writing every week. if u want it straight shot to your inbox: https://tinyletter.com/rose-artrat

previous letter:  #6.) TMI meets TMO (recovering from a broken heart)

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