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no6secretsanta · 7 years

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A Christmas Performance

Written for @albuscornix. Happy holidays! Hope you enjoy! ~@fairysdarkestnight

Shion filed into the elevator behind some of the other committee members, letting out a nearly silent sigh. It’d been several months since Nezumi had left the city to travel to No. 5 with one of the theater troupes, and he was worried about the man. It wasn’t that Shion thought that Nezumi couldn’t take care of himself, but he hadn’t heard from him at all. Even though correspondence was still strained between the two cities – despite the wall having been down for nearly ten years – Shion had thought that Nezumi would at least let him know when he’d settled in.

The ding of the elevator snapped Shion out of his thoughts. He allowed the short elevator trip to be the only time he would dwell on Nezumi’s absence. Once he crossed the threshold of his work floor, his mind would only be on work, and he refused to think about it at home – it was far too easy for him to fall back into the near-depression he’d experienced during Nezumi’s absence right after the wall fell.

So instead he pretended Nezumi didn’t exist. It was easier that way.

There was only about a week until Christmas, and the committee was in the midst of final preparations for the annual Christmas Ball. At first, the event was held as a way to raise camaraderie between the citizens of No. 6 and the West Block, but it soon became just a regular Christmas event.

“I suggest that we try to get one of the local theater troupes to do a short act. I know it’s last minute, but I still think we need to have some sort of finale.” There was a chorus of agreement around the table, and Shion realized that the meeting had started without him noticing.

“No one’s disagreeing with that, but is there really any troupe that would agree to only a week of rehearsal? And there aren’t any improv groups in the city either.”

There was silence for a moment, then one committee member turned to face Shion, almost falling out of his chair in the process. “Hey, you boyfriend’s an actor, right? Do you think you could pull some strings for us?”

Shion’s fists clenched at the mention of Nezumi as his face turned red from the man’s implications. “I’ve told you that he’s not my boyfriend. We just live together.” Sometimes. “Besides, they went to No. 5 for a theater festival. I don’t know when they’ll be back.”

Another council member spoke up. “The troupe from The Eden Theater, right? They returned last week. Didn’t you know that?”

The only sound was the shocked dropping of a pen before Shion spread his lips in what he hoped looked like a passable smile and said, “I can talk to the manager and see if they can’t come up with a short skit.”

Shion sighed as he stood outside Eden’s backstage door. It wasn’t like he was nervous – no, it wasn’t that at all. He just didn’t want to interrupt the troupe if they were rehearsing.

He’d never been any good at lying to himself.

“Are you trying to get rid of me already, Your Majesty?”

“I just thought that since you have such a flair for the dramatic – you did wait until the middle of a typhoon to return through my window if you recall – that you might want to look into it. Auditions haven’t started yet, but I can put you in contact with the manager if you want.”

“And I suppose that you just casually know said manager and weren’t the one to hire him. And that you just casually named the place too?”

“It was just a suggestion! Everyone voted it on it fairly.”

“So it’s just a coincidence that it’s named after the garden where Eve and the snake first met?”

“…Would you believe me if I said yes?”

“No way in hell.”

Shion shook his head to try to get rid of the memory. It had been shortly after Nezumi had returned and, if he was being honest with himself, nothing had really changed in the five years since. I just wish he’d –

He cut off the thought before he could finish it. It would do him no good to dwell on the topic. Besides, at that point he was just procrastinating. Sighing again, Shion knocked on the door, hoping that he would be lucky enough that no one would open it.

It was a good thing he wasn’t named after clover.

“Oh, Shion. It’s been a while since we’ve seen you around. Eve’s –”

Shion stopped the stagehand before he could continue. “I’m here to talk to the manager. Is he in?”

The stagehand blinked in surprise, but nodded. “He’s in his office. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

Shaking his head, Shion stepped into the theater and made his way through the backstage area, greeting the few actors he saw.

Nezumi wasn’t among them.

He wasn’t sure what to make of that. Part of him rationalized that if Nezumi was at the theater, then he was probably just rehearsing on stage. But if he wasn’t on stage, then there was no way that he didn’t know that Shion was there. And if he wasn’t at the theater at all…

The manager’s door was in front of him before he knew it, and so Shion sighed, shoved the thoughts of Nezumi out his mind, and knocked.

Shion let out a sigh and loosened his tie as he left city hall. His meeting with Eden’s manager was more draining than he’d been expecting – did the man really have to argue over every suggestion he made? – and afterwards he’d returned to report his success in securing the troupe for a short performance to the rest of the committee.

The crunch of snow under his boots gave him something to focus on besides his work. It was easy to let go of his stress when all he needed to listen to was the sound of the snow, and there was no one out as late as him to disturb the night’s peace.

Thwack.

Or maybe not.

Shion spun around, clumps of snow falling from his hair. Nezumi stood several feet behind him, grinning and tossing another snowball in the air.

“So, I hear that you visited the theater but didn’t come see me,” Nezumi said, pitching his voice slightly higher and letting a pout form on his lips. “I’m hurt, my love. I thought I meant more to you than that.”

Shion rolled his eyes and ignored the other man’s words. “I was planning on making some soup as a late dinner, and I have some bread from Mom’s bakery. You coming?”

Nezumi smirked and nodded, dropping his snowball and coming up to ruffle Shion’s hair as he passed him, more than comfortable with the leading the way to Shion’s condo. “How can I say no to a personal invitation from His Majesty?

After a hot meal of Macbeth soup – Nezumi refused any other type and Shion begrudgingly agreed – the two of them sat on Shion’s couch, both holding a mug of post-dinner tea, trying to focus on anything but each other. The silence between them was thick – not even Nezumi’s mice could be heard.

Then, “Why did you let me come back?”

Shion let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. There was something in Nezumi’s voice that made Shion understand that he wasn’t talking his recent return from No. 5. No. He knew that the other man was asking about a return from much further back. In a soft voice, he gave life to words that he’d been holding onto for longer than he cared to admit. “I don’t know. There was never really a choice when it came to you. I couldn’t let myself say no. I was physically incapable of it.”

There was no response to Shion’s words, and the silence continued to stretch between them. The tea in Shion’s mug had cooled to an undrinkable temperature. Finally, Shion stood and made his way into the kitchen, pouring the liquid down the drain.

He refused to acknowledge the symbolism.

“You know where the extra blankets and pillows are. I’ll be leaving first thing in the morning.”

Even as he left behind a silent Nezumi, Shion kept hoping that he would say something – anything -to make him stop. But the man just continued sitting on the couch, staring into a cup of tea that they both knew he was never going to drink.

Despite this not being his first time back in No.6 – he did, after all, pretty much live with Shion at this point – Nezumi was still impressed with the changes that Shion and the committee had managed to make. The city wasn’t perfect, and that was how things should be.

Perhaps one of the largest changes was the fact that the city actually celebrated Christmas. Although it was far from the religious holiday it was before the war, the fact that everywhere he went he could see lights and Christmas trees was a welcome improvement. It’s amazing how much Shion’s done for this city. Even if he doesn’t see it himself.

Snow crunched under Nezumi’s boots – he really needed to get some new ones; water was beginning to soak his feet already – as he made his way mindlessly through Shion’s neighborhood. There was never any point to his early morning walks. He’d simply developed the habit over time when he was unable to get back to sleep after Shion left for work. The bed always felt far too large without the airhead next to him.

Nezumi sighed as he tried to stuff his freezing hands even deeper into his pockets. He hadn’t questioned being forced to sleep on the couch, but it still bothered him that he didn’t know why. It wasn’t unusual for Shion to get upset enough at him to refuse to let him into his bed, but this was the first time that there hadn’t been a fight between them first.

Sometimes he wondered why he’d returned to No.6 in the first place, and constantly questioned his reasons for continuing to come back. During one such instance, he opened the door to Shion’s condo and smelled the aroma of fresh baked bread – Shion always claimed that the bread was from his mother’s bakery, but Nezumi knew better – heard Shion’s cheerful “welcome back” and in that moment he knew.

He was hopelessly in love with the idiot.

This concept had taken him a while to get used to, and he’d spent more time away from No.6 following the discovery than he should have, if Shion’s cold response to his appearance was anything to go by. He fled, grateful that Eden’s troupe was already planning to take part in a theater festival hosted by No.5. He’d spent so long believing that caring for someone would get him killed that even almost ten years wasn’t enough to make him feel safe in caring for Shion.

But it was already far too late.

He’d already fallen.

By the time Shion returned from the office, Nezumi had cleaned the condo, visited Karan, and made dinner, in addition to his rehearsal at the theater. Normally he would have been more than a little irritated at Shion’s incessant need to work himself to death, but he knew that the tension between them the night before wouldn’t just disappear. So instead he was a little grateful that the other man was so willing to work overtime that no one requested of him.

“I visited your mother today.”

Nothing.

He tried again. “Rehearsal for the play we’re going to perform at the ball went well today.”

Not even a grunt of acknowledgement.

“I was propositioned by one of my costars today.”

Silence.

“Okay, now you’re just being ridiculous. What the hell is wrong with you?”

And still Shion refused to respond.

Nezumi slammed the spoon he was holding to the counter, chicken noodle soup splattering everywhere. “Fine. If you’re just going to pretend that I don’t exist, then I might as well leave. There’s clearly no point in me staying here.”

Throwing on his coat and scarf, Nezumi was more than willing to leave the other man there alone – though, if he was being completely honest with himself, he didn’t really know where he would be leaving to – but he grabbed the bag that he never truly unpacked and prepared to leave anyway. Just as he reached for the doorknob that would let him escape from the stifling atmosphere, he felt the lightest tug on his sleeve.

“Stay.”

The single word was so softly spoken that for a moment Nezumi wondered if he was just imagining it. But when Nezumi tried to pull away, Shion’s grip only tightened, even though the man still refused to even look at him. Sighing, Nezumi wrapped his fingers around Shion’s whitened knuckles and folded their hands together. “Okay.”

They ate dinner together, but Shion still refused to let go of Nezumi – the poor man looked on the brink of a breakdown when Nezumi had released his hand to take off his jacket. Although he still couldn’t see his face, Nezumi was able to feel the shaking of the other man without even touching him. He’d only stopped once he’d been able to latch onto Nezumi once more.

His behavior concerned Nezumi. He’d never acted that clingy before – not even after he’d returned to the city the first time after the wall fell. There hadn’t even been an explanation that he could think of, and the other still refused to say anything to him. This went on until Nezumi decided he needed a shower.

“Shion, I’m seriously not going to bed like this. I spent a full day at the theater – I know that I’ve complained about how hot those lights can be – cleaned the place up – do you know how filthy it was? The dust had dust – and to top it all off, I spent the rest of the evening making your damn favorite soup over a hot stove. I’m tired, dirty, and sweaty, and all I want is a damn shower, so I suggest that unless you want to join me, you let go of me and let me bathe.”

When Shion’s grip only tightened in response to his words, Nezumi was more than a little surprised. Sure, the man was acting oddly to begin with, but normally such a suggestion would warrant at least a light flush.

This Shion was scaring him.

So instead of just shaking him off like he normally would, Nezumi reached up to hold Shion’s face between his palms as best he could with a hand still held hostage by Shion and forced him to look at him. When he saw the nearly lifeless look in his eyes, Nezumi sighed, ruffling Shion’s hair gently with his breath. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

Shion seemed to relax slightly, but still held onto Nezumi’s hand. With a small, sad smile, Nezumi guided him into the bathroom and started the water. As it was heating, he unbuttoned Shion’s work shirt, taking the time to do it one handed so that the other could still grasp Shion’s. Once both their shirts were hanging around their wrists, Nezumi reached for Shion’s free hand, making sure that he had it firmly in his own before releasing the other and letting their shirts fall to the floor.

Steam was starting to fill the small bathroom, fogging up the mirror until Nezumi could no longer see their reflections. He’d stopped for a moment, trying to decide whether he should take off Shion’s pants as well. Normally he wouldn’t have questioned it – normally he wouldn’t have even been in the situation to decide that – but even with as tight a hold as Shion had on him, a part of Nezumi was afraid the other man would bolt.

It was odd to be the one wanting the other to stay.

As he reached for Shion’s belt, Nezumi expected at least a small reaction. Even if they’d seen each other naked before – Nezumi wasn’t exactly shy, and Shion was often too tire to care – there was something more intimate in being the one taking off the other’s clothes.

But there was nothing.

Not even the smallest movement, or the lightest blush. It was almost as if the Shion he knew had been replaced.

What happened?

Shoving the thought aside for the moment, Nezumi finished undressing them and gently led Shion into the shower, moving cautiously to avoid startlingly him.

Nezumi stood under the warm spray for a moment, letting the heat relax the tense muscles of his back, before switching places with Shion. It was rather clear to him that if Shion was going to benefit from the shower as well, Nezumi was going to have to be the one to clean him.

And didn’t that sound fun?

Humming lightly under his breath, Nezumi ran his fingers through Shion’s hair to get the roots wet before reaching for the shampoo to massage it into his scalp.

Shion relaxed the slightest bit, finally letting go of Nezumi’s other hand. Continuing to let the silky white strands slip through his fingers, Nezumi was unaware of the time passing.

“I’m pretty sure that my hair is as clean as it’s ever going to be.”

Nezumi jumped at the other’s voice, letting his hand fall from Shion’s head, but didn’t say anything in response. Instead, he grabbed the shampoo bottle to use on himself.

“Let me.” A little hesitantly, Nezumi gave the bottle to Shion, who started to return the favor. “I love your hair, you know. I’m glad that you didn’t decide to cut it too much.”

It was a little conversational topic, but Nezumi was grateful that at least he was speaking. “I thought about it, while I was in No.5.”

The mention of the other city caused Shion to still, and Nezumi immediately realized that he’d made a mistake by bringing up his absence. For several moments, the only sound that could be heard was that of water hitting tile.

“I’m sorry.”

The overlapping of their words caused both men to start chuckling and Shion to resume shampooing Nezumi’s hair. “I’m sorry that I didn’t come back sooner,” Nezumi elaborated, closing his eyes and letting a sigh escape through his lips.

Shion stopped the addictive movements of his fingers to switch places with Nezumi so he could rinse out his hair. “I’m sorry about how I’ve been acting. I was scared, Nezumi.” Shion took a breath, letting out the air slowly as he readied himself to continue the thought. “I was scared that you were never coming back. I always am, every time you leave. And then I found out that you’d come back with the troupe but didn’t come to see me? It hurt. It hurt more than I thought it would.” Spray from the showerhead collected on Shion’s face, causing droplets to slide down his cheeks.

The silence stretched between them after his words, and although Nezumi knew he should say something, anything, the words just wouldn’t come. So finally, he reached for the bar of soap, lathered up a towel, and began to run the cloth down Shion’s body.

Shion released a sigh that was nearly a moan as Nezumi paid extra attention to his scar, tracing the soap bubbles that were left behind as they slid down the red skin.

“Why?”

The question was not unexpected, but it still took Nezumi several minutes to respond. “I was scared, Shion,” he finally responded, mirroring the words just spoken to him. “I was scared of you, just like I was back when we were living in the West Block.”

“You were scared of me then? There’s absolutely no reason for that. If anything, I should have been scared of you. You were the one with all the fighting experience. You literally bombed a car that we were in, Nezumi.”

Nezumi chuckled and rubbed his thumb against his cheek. “I was scared of you then because of the attachment you were forming, and the attachment I formed in return. It’s dangerous to have someone you want to protect when you live in absolute poverty like that.”

“But why now? I get that you feared for your safety – as much as I might disagree with your reasoning – but why does that matter now?”

“Because I love you.”

It was perhaps not the most conventional of confessions – they were both completely naked, and one of them had soap all over his body – but nothing they ever did fit into the norms of society. Shion blinked up at Nezumi before opening and closing his mouth several times.

“You mean to tell me,” he finally managed to blurt out, “that you left me because you’re in love with me?” He nearly screeched out the words, shocking Nezumi into jumping back, nearly slipping on the wet shower floor.

“…Yes?”

Shion started laughing. “That is the single most ridiculous thing that I have ever heard come out of your mouth.”

“…I’m sorry?”

As his laughter died down to chuckles, Shion reached for Nezumi. “You’re not the only one.”

Nezumi blinked water out of his eyes. “You’re in love with yourself? I mean, I know you have a thing for looking at yourself naked, but I honestly didn’t think that you were that far gone.”

Shion lightly slapped his shoulder. “Stop being deliberately obtuse. I love you, Nezumi.”

The words didn’t register at first. Nezumi knew Shion loved him, but had never let himself think that anything would come of it.

But isn’t that why you came back?

With a gentle smile on his face, Nezumi leaned in and pressed his lips against Shion’s, uncaring of the cooling water around them.

Later, as they were lying on Shion’s bed – Nezumi having finally been allowed in – Nezumi wrapped an arm around Shion and pulled him into his chest. “Thank you Shion. For always keeping the window open.”

To anyone else, the words would have made no sense, but Shion just smiled sleepily up at him a stroked his cheek. “There was never any choice.”

On the night of the Christmas Ball, Shion was running around, trying to keep everything in order. “Shion, calm down. Everything will be fine. Have a drink!”

One of the other committee members shoved a glass of wine in his face, trying to get the other man to relax. “No thank you. There’s still too much to do before the performance.” Like finding the lead actress.

Nezumi hadn’t been seen by anyone, not even the theater troupe, and they were scheduled to perform in less than half an hour. Shion wasn’t terribly concerned about the other’s well-being – if he dared voice it, the other would have him pressed against the wall with a knife at his throat in less than half a second to prove a point – so he was more stressed and irritated because of him.

There was a tap on his shoulder, and when Shion turned to see who was trying to get his attention, he saw one of the stagehands. “Eve finally deigned to show up.” Well that’s one good thing at least. “But he said he wants to talk to you and refuses to leave his dressing room until he does.

Shion dragged a hand down his face. Seriously, he had enough to deal with already. “Fine. I’ll be there momentarily.”

Knock knock.

“I’m only opening that door if it’s Shion,” Nezumi called out, casually resting across several chairs in the closet designated as his changing room.

“You’re being more dramatic than usual, Nezumi. I’m busy and frankly, don’t really have the energy to keep up with you today.” Nezumi heard Shion’s muffled voice through the door, so he sat up, stretched, and went to answer the door.

“What a pleasure it is too see you. Thank you for gracing this lowly peasant with Your Highness’s presence.”

“Cut the crap, Nezumi. What do you want?”

The serious look on Nezumi’s face surprised him – normally he couldn’t wipe the smirk off Nezumi’s face. But this was different. There was legitimately something wrong.

“I can’t sing.”

Silence.

“Nezumi. You literally calmed down a giant bee goddess with only your voice. You’re literally called a Singer. Like, with a capital S. I think now is a little late to be having doubts about your singing prowess.”

“No, you airhead. Like I strained my vocal chords rehearsing or something. I am incapable of singing more than three notes right now.”

“Okay, so tell the director. Have your understudy perform tonight.”

The look Nezumi gave him told Shion all he needed to know about what Nezumi thought of that suggestion. “So what do you expect me to do? Cancel it? You know I can’t do that.”

The grin on Nezumi’s face made him wish he’d never asked.

Somehow, Shion doubted that he would live to regret that decision.

How did I even end up in this situation? Shion asked himself as he stood in the wings, struggling to breathe with the too-tightly tied corset.

Seriously, was that really necessary?

“Shion, you don’t look like a woman. A corset will help give you the curves that you lack. Trust me, it’ll only help you.” Although his words made sense, the laughter he was trying to hold back said otherwise.

“You’re enjoying this far too much.” Shion gasped as the costume designer pulled the lacing tighter. “How do you expect me to breathe in this? Much less sing!”

“You’ll do fine. I have faith in you.”

“…really now. And what is so wrong with your understudy that she isn’t the one doing this?”

Nezumi casually shrugged. “She has no talent.”

“You say that about all the actors.”

“…It’s true in her case.”

Shion swore that he would murder Nezumi because of this.

Nezumi stood in the shadows, watching Shion perform his part with a small smile on his lips. The boy was more talented than he gave himself credit for, and he looked damn good on stage. He’d have to reward him for a job well done later.

But he would never, never tell Shion that he lied to him. He just wanted to see him on stage.

Nezumi turned away from the performance after Shion stumbled off stage to grab a drink, singing along softly to the rest of the show, not missing a note.

There was a soft knocking on the dressing room door, and Shion was not surprised to see Nezumi on the other side.

“You took off the dress,” Nezumi complained with a pout. “I was looking forward to dancing with you while you were still wearing it.”

Shion rolled his eyes and adjusted his tie. “That horrid thing? You’re just lucky that I’d already agreed to it. I would have rejected you immediately if I knew what the role entailed. That dress should be burned.”

“I’ve worn worse.”

“There were ribbons, Nezumi. Ribbons!”

“…I’ll give you that.” Nezumi held out a hand, inviting Shion to take it in his own. “Regardless, I would still like to dance with you. There’s still time before the end of the ball.”

Shion smiled and gripped Nezumi’s hand firmly, letting himself be led back into the ballroom.

The two immediately fell into the rhythm of a waltz unmatched by any other couple. As Nezumi spun Shion in a tight circle, the other laughed, joy completely lighting up his face. No words were needed to express how they both felt in that moment. There was only happiness between them.

As the music wound to a close, Nezumi pulled Shion into his chest, both being able to feel the rapid beating of the other’s heart that wasn’t just from the exertion. After a moment, as the orchestra began another song, Nezumi leaned in and brushed his lips against Shion’s.

“Merry Christmas.”

#no. 6 #no6 #no.6 #nezushi #fairysdarkestnight #albuscornix #submission

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ralphmorgan-blog1 · 7 years

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Honest Answers To All Of The Questions Hinge Seems To Think I Should Answer

MC Jeffereson Agloro

Where To Find Me At The Party

If I’m actually at a party and not just drinking at one of the four bars I go to and/or at home, I’m probably connected to one of my best friends talking shit about something or someone. Or, if one of the last parties I went to is any indication, I’m involved in a very tense discussion about how problematic was with a girl who really just wanted to talk about how much she liked the main girl’s hair.

Dream Dinner Guest

Honestly no one. I kind of hate eating in front of people and that’s why I almost always suggest “just sitting at the bar” because something about sitting perpendicular to someone rather than across makes me feel less weird about it. But if I could choose someone to eat at the bar with I’d choose my best friend (awww) because he never bores me.

My Last Meal Would Be

Eaten alone.

Go-To Dish To Cook

I really don’t cook anymore which is pathetic and cliché and it makes me embarrassed. If I didn’t have to do the dishes this Hungarian cauliflower soup I know how to make is pretty spectacular. But it’s really labor intensive so I honestly only make it once a year.

Worst Idea I’ve Ever Had

This? Probably this.

I Got Detention For

So many things. Skipping school to go counter protest people protesting abortion, making out with someone in a practice room, not writing a paper about the witches of Macbeth when I was supposed to. I was a bad student.

My 2016 Resolutions Were

Not kept.

Weirdest Gift I have Given Or Received

A boyfriend bought me a romper once. It wasn’t great.

Craziest Office Party

I work remotely and never get to go and have FOMO every single time.

Favorite Big Game Commerical

I’m assuming that this involves the Superbowl and truly I do not care I only watch for the half-time performance.

The Hallmark Of A Good Relationship Is

I believe that the best relationship of your life will be with someone who has the opposite opinion about pickles as you. Like for me, I hate pickles. Can’t stand them. But then my partner gets to have even MORE pickles. Win win.

What I’d Like To know About You

1) Who did you vote for? 2) How do you feel about that decision now? 3) How do you feel about pickles? 4) Have you Googled me? 5) What did you lie about on your profile?

Finish This Sentence

The Working Title For My Memoir

Is a secret. But an alternate title was just “BITCH” all caps no punctuation.

Would You Rather

I’ll Never Tell My Grandchildren

A lot of things, probably.

Pet Peeves

Most things. Practically all things. But front runners are slow walkers, people who write ‘everyday’ when they mean ‘every day’, PDFs, when people hit the 1 or Lobby button on the elevator when it’s already clearly been pressed, people who don’t acknowledge their dog’s bad behavior, nail polish that chips too quickly, Uber drivers who don’t use Waze, men who feel that eye contact is an invitation for conversation, and when people add my email to subscription lists without my permission.

Fact Or Fiction

Try To Guess This About Me

You Should Leave A Comment If

Favorite Disney Movie

In no particular order: , , , and .

My Dream Job If Money Didn’t Matter

One of Martha Stewart’s dogs. (Writer’s Note: This is my used answer on the app.)

I’d Donate A Kidney For

My dad, probably. But I don’t think we have the same blood type so that’s probably not even an option.

Fact About Me That Surprises People

I don’t like salad.

What I Wanted To Be When I Grew Up

A Broadway Actress or an Olympic Equestrian.

How My Parents Met

I think at church? That seems very North Dakota and therefore, right.

Dream Vacation

One with minimal plans, lots of free time, tons of books to read, and good beer to drink while reading them.

Most Spontaneous Thing I’ve Done

More than one tattoo.

My Happy Place

My bed.

Favorite Holiday Tradition

My best friend and I do vacations on Thanksgiving together instead of like, being at home or doing the whole dinner thing. And it’s honestly amazing.

A Life Goal Of Mine

To get day drunk with Bethenny Frankel.

Most Embarrassing Song On Spotify

I’m not embarrassed of anything I listen to? If you want to make fun of me for jamming to One Direction that honestly not my problem.

I Geek Out On

Talking about clickbait and industry things and telling everyone why they are wrong.

On My Bucket List

Getting day drunk with Bethenny Frankel.

My Simple Pleasures

Walking with my dog, having 3 different kinds of La Croix in my apartment at all times, never making my own coffee.

Next Vacation I Want To Go On

Typical Sunday

Lounging until I get the Sunday Scaries and then having a pretty terrible sleep.

Worst First Date

It is a very long story but it involved a tiki bar, Portland, and him handcuffing himself to my roommate.

Go-To Karaoke Song

I’m a big fan of ladies from the 80s and almost exclusively choose my karaoke repertoire from their greatest hits.

My Personality Type

Heidi told me ESTP so let’s go with that.

My Greatest Strength

My ability to always be right.

I Don’t Always Streak But When I Do

Worst Roommate Story

Too many to list on a dating app.

Worst Fad I Participated In

Do you remember those weird “bubble shirts” that would like, stretch like crazy and were somehow raised and sort of silky? Yeah, those.

I’m Looking For

Someone to be the plus one to weddings who will also try and sneak food out of the venue.

Best Halloween Costume

I was supposed to be the Robin Thicke to my best friend’s Miley Cyrus but he bailed last minute and was Michael Phelps. The costume was still good but that was unfortunate.

Never Have I Ever

Won never have I ever.

I’m Actually Legitimately Bad At

Math. And driving.

My Childhood Crush.

Jonathan Taylor Thomas.

What Makes Me Happy

When people tell me I’m right. When I realize that I don’t have anything to do that day. When my apartment is clean. The sound of my dog drinking water. New sneakers and novelty sweatshirts.

Two Truths And A Lie

(Real Hinge Answer) Once John Cusack asked me to sing for him and I said no. I’m a Slytherin. I’m a natural blonde.

Unusual Skills

I’m really good at guessing heights.