#we got an entire tour and a new song n live debuts of songs never heard before n im grateful

[carrieway]

some of u r really weird about mcr5 and dunes

[sichengtual]

— summary: wanting to make his big break as a song-writer, jun gets assigned to work with a band that has every intent on making it big. but it’s the 70’s, and just as he’s about to discover, love and rock&roll go hand in hand.

— pairing: wen junhui x reader.

— au: 70’s, song-writer!jun, rockstar!reader. 

— genre: fluff. 

— word count: 15, 273 (15.2k)

— playlist: somebody to love — queen ;  your song — elton john ; where you lead — carole king ;  tiny dancer — elton john. 

— warnings: alcohol consumption, some cursing, josh saying groovy every time he speaks.

— a/n: a part of me really wishes i was living in the 70′s and i think it shows here lol also, the moonwalker is inspired on the troubadour and the song jun writes is tiny dancer because it carried me the entire way, what an mvp. 

this one’s for @chocosvt​ ! i really hope you like it <3

Jun is nervous. 

The tapping of his feet against the cold, faux tiled floor produces no audible sound over the music coming from the speakers, but it’s still noticeable to him. He tries to keep a steady pace, even counting along to the beat as he plays the same words over and over inside his head. It’s his own voice speaking back at him, words a mere reminder, and, if he were to be completely honest, part of the reason behind his nerves.

He had promised you, on the very first day he met you, that he’d help you shine. That he’d make you succeed. Part a rush of the moment, part wanting to impress his boss and part a reassurance for himself, his promise had been easy to make. Then. And it’s not that he doubts himself, or you, but, at the end of the day, he’s a 24 year old making his debut in the music industry. And it’s hard, of course, because even when he’s not the one performing, it’s still his words that are being sung. 

Doing what he does is harder than people usually think. Jun’s lyrics are heart-felt, authentic, with his entire soul poured on the paper and ready to be dissected by whoever got to listen to the songs he wrote. He surrenders it to the artist, basically giving up any kind and sort of hold he has over the feelings he’s just reflected, giving them away for someone else to interpret them the way they want. The way they can. And as difficult as it is sometimes, it’s part of the job, and all that he can hope for is for them to be interpreted in the most authentic way possible. It’s hard, definitely, but after years and years of trying, he knows that having them expressed are way better than keeping them in.

Following the loud bang of a drum, he looks around as he keeps the pace with his foot. The entire room smells like entrapped smoke, and warm coffee, and it looks somewhat like it too. There’s a thick, almost translucent layer of fog-like smoke hanging on the air, slowly rising to the ceiling as minutes keep passing. There’s also a big arrangement of paper cups, both full and empty, resting on all possible surfaces around him, almost reflecting the passing of time in their placement; 8 in the morning on the desks, 2 in the evening on the equipment luggage, and a few hours past midnight on some parts of the floor. 

The practice room is a dimly-lit space, with a few round, orange and yellow glass lamps hanging on the ceiling and set a few meters apart, barely even enough to illuminate the entire room. In the evening, the last few rays of sunshine manage to break through the high set windows, reflecting on the tinged glass and breaking upon the dark purple walls in bright, warm shades of orange. 

He hasn’t been there a lot, only a few days since he had arrived for the first stop of the tour, but as he sets his eyes on it, he can’t help but think it almost resembles a sunset. He can see the colors, the exact same ones that paint over the sky just as the night is about to fall down, and it serves to help him ease a little bit. Sunsets, even the ones reflected upon the walls of a world tour practice room, are the same all around. 

“Why are you still getting it wrong? It’s all about the groove, man,” Josh whines. He’s sitting on a small wooden stool, his guitar propped up on his knee. 

“I don’t know, Josh, I’m the one that wrote this riff and for some reason I just can’t play it correctly again!”

“Beginner’s luck,” Chan comments, not really involved in the argument, but never one to pass the opportunity to strike a joke. He looks down to tune down his guitar once Mingyu turns to give him a stare. 

“That doesn’t make sense, I’ve been doing this for years.”

“Well, it certainly doesn't seem like it! Just try to make it groovy!”

He’s still getting used to the band. 

They’re a nice group of people; kind, loud and boisterous, but that’s just every band he knows. Having worked in the label for years, he’s used to seeing bands come and go, submitting his songs with no much more room for interaction left other than a Jun, they liked it! coming from his boss on the good days (the bad days are different, a little less remarkable, but they’re the ones he tries not to think about). This, his first time on the road with one of them, is a completely new experience, and if it wasn’t for finally seeing his dream beginning to get on track, it’d be one that would probably have him shaking in fear. 

But they’re warm, laid-back and easy to talk to, which he appreciates, knowing he’s not the best at initiating conversations... or maintaining them. He had felt intimidated at first, looking into a group of rising rock stars from the outlook of someone who’s just as into their world as he’s out of it, standing somewhere between the line that divides the outside and the inside. But he’s entering, just walking in and slowly stepping his toes on the water; and he’s doing it by the side of people he’s glad he can finally get to call his friends. 

“Jun, could you possibly tell Mingyu he’s been playing the wrong note the entire time?” 

“Yeah Josh, I already know I’ve been playing it wrong.” 

“Please stop fighting so we can practice!” Soonyoung says from his spot on the drums, backed up with a nod from Vernon, the bassist looking surprisingly bored at the altercation.

“Can you tell him to play the right note this time? And remember, make it groovy!”

He hadn’t heard the door opening, but you’re walking in the room just he finally tears his gaze from Josh’s bright red guitar. You turn to give him a smile, one he quickly returns, before turning back to the two bickering guitarists. He turns to look at the set playlist, with his name carefully penned down below all fifteen songs, and he tells himself that, despite his nerves, he might just be perfectly ready for the tour to start. 

“Are you okay? You looked a little distracted today.” 

The diner is quiet. 

There’s really not much movement, with only another customer besides him inside the small establishment. He can focus on the clinging of his spoon as he moves it around in his cup, light, creamy bellows of steam rising as the aftermath of the ripples he creates on the dark liquid. The coffee really isn’t great, tasting a bit tangy against his tongue, even after he had added a small packet of sugar to try and ease the bitterness of the beverage. If he focuses enough, he can even make out a light buzz coming from the neon lights advertising the diner in the street, sound low but crisp against the pouring rain. 

It’s cold, and a part of him really regrets coming to the diner straight out of practice without going to his room first. He had just needed to write, and to do that, he needed silence. He runs a hand up and down his left arm, the coolness from his rings perceivable even through the thick wool of his shirt. 

He looks up, the ripples inside his cup long forgotten. 

You’re standing in front of him, looking just as tired as he feels, with a completely different stance than the one you usually show inside the practice room. Or on the stage. It’s relaxed, at ease, a little shy, even, and he can’t help but wonder if, behind the whole rockstar facade, maybe the two of you aren’t really that different. 

You take a seat in the chair in front of him, the laminated red seat squeaking as response to the movement. 

“Huh?” He lets out.

“At practice,” you move, trying to get comfortable in the cold, plastic chair. “You looked a little distracted. Everything okay?”

Jun shrugs, smiling softly. “It’s just nerves, I think.”

It’s not the first time you’ve seen Jun smile, but it’s the first time you’ve seen him smile like that. And, in complete honesty, it was the first time it had been completely directed at you. He had always been a little quiet, ever since he was first introduced as the “new song-writer” by the label director, and, because of the chaos that naturally ensued whenever surrounded by the entire band, your interactions with Jun had been few and far-between. 

Here’s what you’ve managed to learn about him in the months you’ve known him: he likes to be alone when he writes, but he can also do it when sitting as far away from the speakers as possible. He likes drinking his coffee with both sugar and cream, and even if he doesn’t drink too much of it, he always finds a way to spill even a little bit, be it on his shirt or somewhere near his notebook (which has been the cause of many scares inside the practice room). He keeps a pen in his shirt pocket at all times, whether it be for writing down an incoming idea wherever he found or for clicking the seconds away whenever he got nervous. 

And he’s surprisingly shy about his lyrics, even when he sounds completely confident in them. You can tell, whenever you’re given them to sing them, that they are words he’s proud of; words that came from his heart as bits and pieces of the most beautiful poetry you’ve ever read. And they’re always accompanied by a small, shy smile and the slight reddening of his cheeks. 

“I know what you mean,” you say. You call the waiter just as Jun takes a sip from his coffee, not missing the slight purse of his lips as he swallows down the warm beverage. “I’m nervous too.”

“You don’t seem to be,” he comments. He looks back down at his coffee, hand still making circles with the spoon. “Whenever you sing, it’s like you’re completely used to it. It feels as if it were something you’ve always done, something you know like the back of your hand. And still… I don’t know how to explain it. It’s like you’re thrilled by it, even more so every day.” 

Jun looks up at you, hiding his words behind a smile. You don’t notice, too busy ordering a cup of chamomile tea to make anything of the way he’s staring at you from the other side of the table. 

“It’s amazing what putting on a brave face can do, then,” you answer. “I love being on stage. It’s just nerve wracking to think about it when I’m not there. It’s like Mingyu not being able to get his own riff right unless he’s playing in front of a live crowd.” 

“Oh, please don’t remind me of the riff incident. Joshua’s voice hasn’t left my head the entire day.” 

Rain continues falling. You can hear some melody coming from the speakers, which, even when it feels completely unfamiliar, makes Jun’s sway to the side as he rests his head on his hand. Maybe he knows it. 

“I hope it’s not a bad sign,” Jun mentions, pointing to the window with his thumb. “Starting the tour with a little bit of rain.”

“Seungkwan was talking about that earlier, too,” you say, thinking back of the keyboardist’s words from before you left the practice room. “But you know, if anything, I think it might be a good sign.” 

Jun purses his lips, head moving to the side. His fingers move across the table, fiddling with the empty sugar packet he had used. The bright pink paper shines bright against his hands, fluorescent yellow light reflecting from outside. It captures his eyes, and yours, and for a brief second, the both of you are stuck on watching how the packet’s shadow grows whenever Jun moves it around his fingers. It reminds you of him with the pen, a mere distraction. Or maybe just a way for him to set his ideas in order. 

You can tell he’s still a bit hesitant about the interaction, not knowing if they’re nerves at talking about the tour or just nerves at talking to you. As soon as he looks up from his hands, you give him a smile. 

“It’s a bit of a fresh start, isn’t it? And I think, right now, that’s what we all need.”

As much as Jun wants to say he’s not surprised at the turn-out, his eyes are wide open at the influx of people coming through the doors. 

His heart beats loud against his chest as he looks down at the stage, empty of people but perfectly set with an array of instruments that are only waiting to be lit alive. The entire place is full of chatter; the ever-growing excitement of a crowd begging to be enchanted by an unknown performance. Up from his spot at the balcony, he can’t make out what they’re saying but he doesn’t miss how they’re saying it: and the pure excitement in their voices draws a chill from his spine. 

It’s a scene like the ones he’s been hearing about for years. Like the ones he’s been dreaming of witnessing, of being a part of it. And now he’s in one, not only as an spectator, but as the man behind the words. 

“It’s amazing, don’t you think? Or as Josh would say, incredibly groovy.” 

Seungcheol, the band’s manager, asks as he walks into the balcony. Him and Jun went way back, much more than anyone else in their group besides the band themselves. They were the new generation, the young dreamers at the office that were only waiting to be given a shot to prove themselves. They had been hired at the same time, both meant to work with a completely different artist that had ended up not taking them because of how young they were. 

They had built up their experience together, and it had been those late-night talks at the label’s office that made Jun able to call Seungcheol his friend, powered through by cheap coffee and tired conversations full of laughter. And they’re only part of the reason why Jun always refers to Seungcheol as a long-lost brother more than a newly found friend. 

“It’s almost sold out!” Seungcheol continues. He’s wearing a dark pin-stripe suit, as he always is whenever he’s on official business. His hair is slicked back, and his usual pair of gold wire-frame glasses rest on top of his nose, specs perfectly clean. “People keep walking in and walking in and walking in! It’s almost as if they’re the freaking Rolling Stones and not a band barely making their debut. Is that Hoshi or is it Charlie Watts on the drums?”

“It’s the Monday night show, it’s a guaranteed success,” Jun mutters. He knows Seungcheol would be able to see past his facade, to make out the true meaning of his words. Three years after meeting him, there isn’t much he can hide from him. “I’m happy for them, though. The first night’s important.”

“Yeah, me too,” Seungcheol smiles. “Vernon’s been freaking out in the backstage since he started hearing the crowd coming in. He’s just staring at his bass and Hoshi’s about to smack his head with his drumsticks.”

“They’re gonna do amazing. If Mingyu gets his riff right, that is.” 

“And everybody’s gonna love the songs,” Seungcheol says, pressing a gentle palm on Jun’s shoulder. He hadn’t even noticed he was shaking. “If only they knew the stud that wrote them. I bet they’d even like looking at those nice bell bottoms you’re wearing. Since when do you like purple pants?” 

“I bet they’re gonna prefer looking at Mingyu,” Jun laughs before Seungcheol does, and it almost distracts him from his surroundings. “Or even Josh. And Minghao gave me the pants, by the way.”

“Or even Josh,” Seungcheol laughs, shaking his head as he looks away from his friend. 

“Groovy,” Jun says. 

“Groovy,” his friend responds. 

Jun’s nerves have calmed down by the time the lights fall down. 

A half-empty beer bottle looks over the crowd, sitting immediately next to the balcony’s railing. He notices an entirely new atmosphere now that the room is only barely lit, as if the lights falling had only served to heighten the people’s emotions. It’s almost as if they’re in a different place altogether, with expectating hanging high in the air and out of everyone’s reach. 

The Moonwalker they had walked in, just a few hours before, barely resembles the Moonwalker they’re in right now. 

It had been lit by the natural light coming from the windows, bouncing over the wood-covered walls and reflecting over the little trinkets that served to adorn them. They had been the highlight of the place, attracting the eyes of everyone that entered to the rows and rows of pictures and memorabilia. What was that hanging over the bar, Bob Dylan’s hat? Jun had only been more impressed by the bright neon sign that spelled the bar’s name right on the center of the stage, after seeing it on newspaper cuttings for most of his life. 

A few days back, when Seungcheol had told him of the gig they had landed the band through a friend of his girlfriend (bless you Lily!), Jun almost couldn’t believe his words. The bright blue cursive sign had been the first thing that had come to mind, consuming his thoughts as a sort of finish line at the end of a marathon. It wasn’t only the bar’s trademark, it was also the backdrop of some of the most amazing debuts in modern rock n’ roll history. And now, looking at it shining brightly against the low-lit room, a part of him still can’t believe he might be about to see one of them with his own two eyes. 

He had heard of concert nights on the Moonwalker the same way he had heard the stories of the great mythic heroes. He had seen pictures the same way he had learned of iconic places and happenings. He remembers spending entire nights finding motivation in the dream of listening to his songs being played in the exact same place some of his favorite songs had been presented, of them finally finding their home within the same crowd that had once listened to The Byrds and Carole King. 

And as you walk onto the stage, commanding attention with each step, Jun is sure tonight is going to become one of those. And that it’s his songs that will be sung back by the crowd, resounding against the walls and enveloping the entire place in their meaning. 

The band had already been introduced by the club owner, but no one had actually turned to pay attention until you had walked on stage. You’re met by countless excited bellowings, a smile on your face forming at the sudden attention. 

“We hope you enjoy the show!”

The rest of the band follows, and Jun is struck by a thought. Words materialize in his head as if prompted by the first few notes, threading together into a complete, coherent phrase. It’s a phrase Jun knows. He might have heard it from someone, or read it from somewhere, and it’s stuck in his brain the same way the bridge of the song you’re singing once was. Or maybe it was just something someone had once told him. 

He knows that there are moments in an artist’s life that will define their career. Moments that let you know how it's gonna go. A preview of sorts. And he knows, looking at you shining under the spotlight, that he’s just witnessed something big. 

The entire crowd has gone wild at the music, and Jun knows it’s only the beginning. 

For now, he just smiles, and like the people dancing down below, he lets himself go. 

The party is in full-swing by the time Jun walks in. 

The house itself is small, one story and a few rooms that hold a big part of the party-goers. He can tell it’s usually used as a holiday residence, not exactly a place of staying but merely a place of passing, because every single thing that’s visible doesn’t really have a function different from simply looking good. The entire place is covered in small, colorful trinkets that look like they’re part of some random collection that everyone always sees but no one actually ever looks at. 

It’s truly a rock-star’s house, because, really, nothing about it makes sense. 

Countless bookshelves rest against the colorfully draped walls, an array of uneven, colorful wallpapers shining under the light of the multiple glass chandeliers, but not a single book is visible to the eye. The floor itself is a great quality wood, but everything’s hidden below a series of fuzzy rugs that somehow match the randomness of the wallpapers. 

The music changes slightly as he keeps walking, an entire ensemble of genres, styles and decades all the product of a number of record players playing simultaneously all over the house. All of them are playing a completely different thing, but somehow it all blends into one cohesive beat. Jun could go into the technicalities behind it and say it’s probably in the beats per minute, or could maybe go somewhere into the meaning behind the lyrics, but for now, he just lets himself get immersed into the scene. 

The party doesn’t resemble anything he had lived before, or even heard of. And it’s full of people. 

The entire team (band and staff alike) had been invited to an after-party held by some music executive that’s friends with the owner of the club. It happened every monday after the show, they had said, entertaining executives, artists, and club-goers alike. And no one really cared who was which as long as there was music playing all around them. 

“Jesus, is that Billy Joel?” Seungcheol asks as he walks closely behind Jun. The two of them and Minghao, the band’s stylist, had been the last to leave for the party, having to stay behind to finish the last of the arrangements that followed a successful concert at the Moonwalker, with the rest of you leaving with some of the club’s crew. “Guys, I think that’s Billy Jo- jesus, he’s talking to Chan and Seungkwan.”

“Of course he’d be talking to Chan and Seungkwan, they probably went right to him when they saw him,” Minghao says. “Hey, can you see Vernon around?”

“He’s probably sitting somewhere next to the drinks or something. Or maybe he’s outside, I think there’s a live band playing somewhere out there,” Jun comments.

“Damn, should’ve booked us too for that, right?” Seungcheol says, laughing with the words.

“Don’t you rather just enjoy the party and forget about performing for a bit?” Minghao questions. Out of the corner of his eye, Jun can see Seungkwan and Chan walking away from the group of people they had been talking to, probably on their way outside for some fresh air. “The guys seem to be having a great time. Let go for a bit, Cheol! Let’s enjoy this whole rockstar life even if it’s just for tonight!”

He can hear Mingyu’s laugh coming from somewhere nearby, even if his eyes can’t locate the tall guitar player. He’s surprised he can hear him, with how low his laugh usually is and how high the music is playing, but once Seungcheol points him out in the crowd, he’s only a few steps away. He’s entertaining a large group of people, with Joshua smiling by his side, the both of them holding two glasses of what looks like beer. 

It’s no surprise the two of them would like to be around the growing crowd, with how easily they seem to be able to strike a conversation with whoever walks by. He had known them to be sociable, in comparison with some like Vernon, Minghao or himself. It’s still a bit surprising, though, how in control they seem to be of a conversation held with people they probably didn’t know five minutes ago. 

“I’m gonna go find us something to drink,” Seungcheol says, patting Jun on the back before walking away with Minghao closely following his steps. 

And Jun is left alone. Still, in a house full of people, he sticks his hands in the front bottom of his purple jeans. They had really been Minghao’s suggestion, along with the slick yellow button up and a pair of red boots. It was comfy, and Seungcheol had assured him he really did look good, so he hadn’t dwelled much on it when leaving the hotel room. 

He debates joining Mingyu and Joshua’s crowd for a second, but the growing scent of tobacco and beer has him making his way to the door after he raises his hand in a greeting. Josh manages to signal him to the backyard before Jun leaves, and he wonders whether he’s simply pointing in the direction of the live band, or Vernon, or you. 

As he walks outside, bumping bodies with a never-ceasing crowd, he discovers it’s the later. The outside of the house is just as impressive as the inside, or, as he finds once he begins to look around, even more. 

The entire yard (or at least the part that’s closest to the house) has been decked in continuous rows of fairy lights, hanging from the trees like a mere reproduction of the constellations shining up above. There are at least five campfires, all surrounded by people holding guitars or dancing along to the songs being played by a live band nearby. Their silhouettes are reflected on the ground, a product of the blazing fire, and it’s almost like they’re dancing with the people themselves, more than being a plain reflection of them. 

It’s almost like a scene taken right out of a move, only livelier than any he could ever think of. 

Jun finds you with your back against a tree, sitting cross-legged on a furry carpet, completely enthralled in the music. There’s a series of carpets draped all over the grass, the exact same kind he saw inside, completing the part of the scene that connects both places. As he walks over to you, he wonders where the rest of the band is, with you being alone in the backyard, until he sees Seungkwan and Chan, still hanging close together, sitting a few feet away with what he assumes is another group. A part of him is thankful at the seeming privacy, finding a bit odd how comfortable he is in the middle of a growing crowd when just a few minutes ago he had felt overwhelmed by the loneliness behind it. But then he turns to look at you, smiling carelessly even with your eyes closed, and he knows it’s not a product of the environment.

It's because of you.

“I just wanted to say congratulations,” Jun says, making sure to fall as carefully as possible as he sits down next to you. “Tonight was amazing. Truly, got me tearing up at all.”

“You’ve got your own lyrics to thank for that, mister,” you say, followed by a laugh. You’re still in your concert outfit, although wearing a pair of sneakers as opposed to the platform shoes that had been paired up with the colorful overalls. “I’m pretty sure you weren’t the only one tearing up tonight. I think Hoshi even cried a bit himself.”

“He probably cried at the crowd making tiger claws back at him more than he did at the lyrics.” 

“Yeah, Vernon told him not to do it but he did it anyway!”

“Where are those two, by the way?”

“Somewhere next to where the band is playing,” you answer. You close your eyes as you speak, resting your back against the tree. “I just wanted to get away from everything. Sometimes it’s fun to just observe from a distance.”

“I know what you mean. I’ve been looking at life from a distance for so long, sometimes I forget what it is to actually be living it. I guess it makes for some interesting lyrics though, so it’s been kind of worth it, at least in that way,” Jun says, smiling at you even when you don’t see him. He moves closer to you as he hugs his knees to his chest, feeling the top of your shoulder brush against his. “I think coming with you guys on tour might change that.”

“It’s the rock-star life, huh?” You smile, and Jun can’t help but notice it’s a mirroring of his own smile. In some way, it looks just as vulnerable. He looks away when he feels his cheeks heat up. “You know, you’re much different from what I thought you were when I used to see you at the office.” 

“Different how?”

“I don’t know. I just know I really like talking to you. Every day, I really look forward to being around you,” you laugh, and when he turns to look back at you, you’re finally looking at him again. “You’re a breath of fresh air, Wen Junhui.”

“Says the rock-star,” he laughs. He’s smiling, holding his knees as close to his chest as he can manage as he tries to hide his fluester in his body language. Not that it’s working, anyways. “I’m just some guy.”

“You’re the most interesting guy I’ve ever met.”

You shake your head, and by the way your eyes set on the sky, Jun isn’t completely sure if you’re talking to him or if you’re simply talking to the stars, trying to set your story in the skies for the entire world to see. It makes him smile even wider, anyways. 

“I wonder which one shines brighter. From down here, they look almost the same. But maybe it’s just the distance that taints our perspective,” you mutter, pointing to the lights on the trees. 

“I’d like to think it’s the stars,” Jun comments. “When I was a kid, I always enjoyed watching them. I’d find patterns and have them in my head for weeks as a sort of picture out of a coloring book. Somehow, the stars always seemed to have the answers to every single question that would run through my head, even when miles away.”

“You speak like that and call yourself ‘some guy’,” you laugh. “It’s always poetry coming out of your lips, and I’d listen to every single bit of it.”

The conversation stops, but silence never envelops the both of you, because there is music all around. And there are people dancing, so when you lose focus on each other and gian it in your surroundings, their movement is everything you see. It’s almost as if they’re dancing for the two of you to watch, and neither of you notice the moment your head comes to rest in Jun’s shoulder, way too immersed in a ballet of silhouettes to make anything out of the sudden movement. 

“I hope tonight was good,” you say. “It felt different from other nights, and I don’t know what it was. I’ve never felt that way when performing at home. It felt almost magical, standing there, under the limelight, in front of all those people. Maybe it’s just me, though.” 

Jun shakes his head, muttering a soft no as an answer. You turn to look at each other when he starts speaking, still as close as before. But now he gets to look at you as he speaks. 

“I can’t begin to imagine what you must have felt. I’m not familiar with that side of the gig,” he says, trying to keep his voice as calm as possible. Somehow, the beer he had drank back at the club was still making his blood run wild through his veins, cheeks reddening at the eye contact. “I wish you could’ve seen it from my eyes. Listened to it through my ears, felt what I felt the moment you started singing. I’ve never seen you shine any brighter.”

"You’ve been attending our concerts long enough. Well,if the fifteen person presentations back home even count as concerts.”

“I’ve been to all of your concerts,” he laughs. “And believe me, tonight was really special.” 

“It’s the Moonwalker’s magic,” you say, and Jun turns to look at you. “You saw the place, it was special. It made it special.”

And he doesn’t know if it’s the effect of the lights shining above your head, or the remaining adrenaline coursing through his veins, but he’s sure he can hear his heart beating against his chest. He can hear it over the loud music, thumping so hard his mind goes blank, falling closer to you as he begins to lean in. 

Because even when far away from the Moonwalker, he’s still smiling the same. He feels just as happy, somewhere in the backyard of a stranger’s house. The place is special, for sure, but only as much as you made it. 

“It wasn’t the Moonwalker that was magical. It was you.”

And you can hear him, because even when the world around you is spinning completely out of order, his smile is still front and center in your eyes. He’s smiling at you and everything else only but circles around it. 

As a new song starts playing from a record player far away, Jun kisses you under a thousand fairy lights. You’re still not sure of which one shines brighter -the artificial lights or the stars high above- but as Jun’s hand finds yours over your lap, you decide you don’t really care. 

A part of you would really like to think nothing had changed after the kiss. 

In reality, the two of you had been so flustered he had ran back to Seungcheol and Minghao while you went to find Vernon and Hoshi, refusing to say anything about the moment to any of them. It was part of some unofficial and unspoken deal, sealed with only a look, sparing the both of you of any kind of conversation immediately afterwards. It had been a product of the moment, of adrenaline and slight tipsiness combined with a romantic scenery, and nothing else. 

That’s what you told yourself the entire night, even when questioned by Seungkwan about the sudden giddiness in your smile and the change in your gaze, slightly unfocused on the world in front of you, as if something more important was playing inside your head. As if that something was the memory of the feeling of Jun’s lips against yours, leaving your skin tingling as an aftermath of his touch. As if that something had been the way he had smiled at you right after, looking as if the affection you’d just shared was as unbelievable to him as it was to you. 

In all honesty, Jun’s kiss was more than one of the many that were shared that night by the people around you. It wasn’t just a product of the moment, of adrenaline and slight tipsiness combined with a romantic scenery, because the way you had looked at each other just before your lips connected had been a long time coming. That was the product of months of unknown pining; of you looking for him as soon as you entered the office, and of him not being able to take his eyes off you as soon as he saw you walking by. It was a product in the exchange that came with you singing for the world the words he had shared with you in messy scribbles over coffee-stained paper, something about the entire thing feeling growingly intimate the thought ran through your head. 

Because even when he wasn’t writing songs for you, or about you, he still trusted you with them. In your eyes, that was worth more than him signing one of them with your name on top of the page for everyone to see. And while you were sure it wasn’t an act of love (or at least not yet), you couldn’t deny it always opened the door for that possibility to walk in. Or for you to walk towards it, at least. Just like his songs, and for months on end, Jun had always been there. 

Well, at least up until the night he kissed you. 

You weren’t sure if it was intentional or fate making a cruel joke out of your feelings, but Jun had been avoiding you. As much as he could be avoiding you in the span of a few hours, at least. 

“Wanna sit with me on the bus?” 

You can’t really tell what Vernon’s wearing. He’s sitting next to you on the curb in front of the bus, a pair of sparkly sunglasses resting atop of his nose. He’s wearing a yellow hat that matches the color of his shoes, but that doesn’t really go with any of the other pieces of his outfit. 

“Aren’t you gonna sit with Hao?” 

“Ah, I don’t know,” Vernon drinks from a styrofoam cup he has on his hand. It’s the same as yours, so it’s probably to-go coffee from the hotel’s restaurant. “He’s been trying to talk about some outfit ideas he had during the concert last night. He called it a revelation or something. I’m pretty sure Seungkwan could be of more use to that conversation than me.”

You don’t really want to sit with Vernon. And it’s not that you don’t enjoy his company, because out of everyone in the band, he’s always been the one you’re closest to. But somehow, you know sitting next to Vernon will prevent you from any chances of even talking to Jun in the next six hours until you reach the next spot. You’re not sure if he’s even actually avoiding you, but you don’t really want to be correct. 

“Are you kidding? You wear this kind of outfits and you think you don’t have a sense of fashion? Vern, if anything, you’ve always been the Mick Jagger amongst all of us.” 

“Okay, those stage outfits were chosen by Minghao, it wasn’t really me putting together those suits and - whatever he has me wearing all the time.” 

You roll your eyes, playfully. 

“Although, I guess I could use this chance to keep him from putting me in another sparkly overall like the one from last night.”

“But you were such a star! It looked pretty nifty if you ask me.” 

“Keep going and I’ll tell him to find the most ridiculous hats for our next concert, just you wait!”

The rest of the band starts walking out of the hotel, Chan’s laughter pulling your attention from Vernon. As they walk next to you, you decide to ignore Hoshi’s tiger print overalls and Mingyu’s conversation of how he had met and talked to George Harrison at the party once Joshua had walked away from him.

“I don’t believe George Harrison would ever like to be entertained by your presence, Gyu. There were definitely groovier people to be around last night.”

“It’s not my fault you decided talking to Seungcheol was more important than stickin’ around, we literally see the guy every day.”

“Hey, I’m your manager!” Seungcheol wines from the hotel door, walking behind a groggy Seungkwan.

“Yeah, we literally see you every day,” Mingyu retorts. He has one foot on the bus steps, only turning to argue with the eldest. “Don’t get me wrong, I love seeing you so often, with all your random hair-do’s.”

“Can it and get in, we’re late anyways. Everyone keep steppin’!”

“The only reason we’re late is because you couldn’t stop talking to your girlfriend on the phone,” Mingyu lets out before climbing in, somehow managing to avoid getting yelled at yet again. 

You get up after Vernon, following him into the bus as soon as Mingyu, Josh and Seungcheol had gotten in. You’d seen Seungkwan, Hoshi and Chan passing by, and quickly found them sitting together near a small kitchen area. 

The bus itself isn’t much different from others you’ve seen, with rows of faux leather seats set one after the other along the central aisle. All the way to the back there’s an area with what looks like a small bed, a door leading to a tight bathroom and a small kitchen space consisting of two cabinets and a microwave. And every single thing is either muted yellow or a dark orange, making the entire espace look probably smaller than it actually is. It’s comfortable enough, though. 

“Hey, Vern, come here,” Minghao calls from one of the seats. He’s resting his back against the window, with his feet on the couch and his knees pulled close to his chest. A small notepad rests on top of them, having only looked up from his sketches to greet the bassist. “Let me show you what I’ve been thinking of. I swear, the setting of the Moonwalker gave me so much clarity on what I want to put all of you guys in for the rest of the tour.” 

“Hao, give Josh a groovy Bob Dylan inspired hat!” 

“You wear the damn Bob Dylan inspired hat if you want, see how groovy it looks on your head.” 

Vernon looks at you to give you a small smile before sitting down next to Minghao as you walk past, stealing one of Hoshi’s snacks before plopping down on the seat behind him. You shift in your seat, hearing the slick material of the seat squeaking against the courness of your jeans. You quickly look at the small smiling daisies Minghao had painted with black markers all over the light surface, making for an interesting pattern when looked at from far away. Your fingers trace over the figures as you rest your head on the window, closing your eyes until you feel someone coming to sit right next to you. You had quickly placed your book on the seat when sitting down, but you find it on top of Jun’s lap as you see it’s him who’s by your side. 

“What an interesting thing to be reading!” He exclaims, looking at the beat up copy of On The Road. “You’re a Kerouac fan?” 

“You’ve read Kerouac?” You ask. 

Jun smiles. “Of course not,” he says, before breaking into a laugh. He doesn’t give you the book back, but turns it to read the back cover. “Read to me? It will keep us both entertained.” 

Without focusing too carefully on it, you can hear the distinct crisp sound of Joshua’s guitar coming from the front of the bus, and can make out the first notes of the Stairway to Heaven solo. It sounds better than you’ve heard him play, most likely the product of constant practice. But it all disappears when you turn to look at Jun. 

Smiling at you, Jun lets you straighten up on your seat before placing his head on your shoulder as he hands you the copy. You’re surprised by how familiar it feels, and feel your lips curling up at the memory of doing the exact same thing the night before. 

And you know that things have changed from the kiss, because now you’re not able to ignore the feeling in your chest that arises when Jun takes your hand in his. And you can only wonder if he feels the same, because he lets out a soft sigh the minute you tighten the grip, nuzzling his cheek against the fuzzy fabric of your corduroy jacket. 

Smiling at his touch, your eyes start glazing over the print as you begin to read. 

“I first met Dean not long after my wife and I split up…”

The dinner lounge of the second hotel is much fancier than the first one. 

The entire place looks like it’s been draped in velvet, every single ridge looking as smooth as a crease in the fabric. There’s a combination of wooden panels and wall-height mirrors adorning the walls, only interrupted by the golden frames of the windows. A dome rises on the center of the center, a thousand red roses painted in a mosaic of tinted glass, while the rest of the ceiling is covered in the exact same wood as the walls. The tables are all draped in expensive looking tablecloths, placed carefully under meticulously set tableware, and they’re accompanied by tufted chairs, all of them in matching red. The dark colors in the scheme makes the entire place look dim, despite all the chandeliers shining bright against up above the clients’ heads. There are candles decorating the tables, along with fresh roses matching the ones in the dome, but they serve more as a simple ambiance decoration than an actual light source.

And, even though the city they had been in had been just as big as the one they’re in now, and the budget had not changed in the slightest, the shiny grand piano that sits at the center of the small wooden stage at the back of the restaurant had caught Jun’s eyes as soon as you had walked in for dinner. 

It was supposed to be a group dinner, but Mingyu, Chan and Minghao had gone sight-seeing, Vernon had fallen asleep and Seungcheol had stayed back in his room to rest (and, probably, talk to his girlfriend on the phone while eating something from the room service). At the end, it’s dinner of five instead of a dinner of ten, and while it would have been nice to share it with everyone, the company you had was more than enough. 

“This place is groovy! Oh, Seungcheol went all out with this hotel,” Josh exclaims as you sit down at a table neighboring the windows, all five of you immediately drawn to the exterior scene. “I’d say he did an excellent job booking if it weren’t for the fact I’m rooming with Hoshi.”

“Hey!” The younger exclaims. “I’ll have you know I’m an excellent roommate. Best you’ll ever have, you’ll see.” 

“Yeah, I’ll start thinking that once you pick up your dirty socks from the floor after taking them off, that’s not groovy at all.”

“Jesus, can we not talk about Hoshi’s dirty socks while at the table, that’s fucking gross.”

“You’re just overreacting, and please just stop saying groovy,” Soonyoung says, rolling his eyes and picking up the pastel pink menu from the table, locking his eyes on the cardboard. “Anyways, this one burger looks way too nifty to pass it up.”

“I was thinking of ordering the same thing,” Seungkwan says, closing the menu. 

“Have you seen the kind of restaurant we’re in? Order a pasta, or a salad, not a plain burger, go with the groove.” 

“Do you think we’re Seungcheol, Joshua? If you had asked for his card like we told you, maybe we’d be buying pasta and wine for the five of us without you having to tell us about it!”

“Has anyone ever told you you’re scary when you’re angry?” Joshua asks, probably deciding on a burger as well as he imitates Seungkwan and places the menu back on the table. 

“Only sometimes,” Soonyoung responds, smiling. 

You’re not listening to their argument, though, with your chin resting over your hand and your gaze lost somewhere in the movement of a stranger. 

It’s funny how being in a completely different country, in a city a million miles away, there’s some sense of familiarity behind simply watching people walking by. You’re not sure if it’s just the mere action, or maybe a combination of the movement in a similarly urban setting, with the lights reflecting upon the crowd as a sort of kaleidoscopic filter, but it never feels entirely too different. 

“Do you want to play a game?” Jun asks, whispering right into your ear. He’s leaning close to your body, sitting between you and Joshua. You can make out the scent of his cologne as he scoots even closer to you to point to a stranger outside the window. “Like when we counted the number of headlights on the highway on our way here.”

You nod, words suddenly stuck on your throat as soon as you see Seungkwan looking at the both of you. Because truly, it was oh so very easy to get lost in the moment whenever Jun was around, and the thought has you smiling as soon as you notice. It’s oh so very easy to get lost in him. 

“Okay, we’ll make it interesting. Whoever wins buys the other a cherry cola!” he says, his voice still sounding just as soft. If he’s aware of Seungkwan’s stare, he doesn’t show it. Or maybe he just doesn’t care. “Let's spot all the people that look like they’re dressed by Minghao after looking at the Moonwalker, starting… now!”

But his words have you laughing, so deeply you can feel it in your chest as you throw your head back. He looks at you, a care-free smile etched all over your face, and he can’t resist the laugh that forms at the center of the stomach, completely imitating your actions as the rest of the guys simply observe. And it’s amazing, because somehow, you have found just enough comfort in the presence of each other to be able to forget about everyone else. It’s not shy smiles and nervous laughs when in public, but full on grins and bursts of laughter. 

The thing no one notices though, completely distracted by the boisterous laugh, is Jun placing his hand on your thigh under the table, thumb moving in delicate circles against the fabric of your jeans. He doesn’t spare a second thought on it, finding way too much comfort in your closeness to make it a conscious action. And you aren’t even surprised on how natural his touch feels by now, because, somehow, it feels like coming home. 

Or maybe they do, but they just smile at the sight. There’s something enthralling about watching two people falling in love, bit by bit, gesture by gesture. It’s a tell behind the warmth of a smile and the fondness of a look, and while it’s not entirely common, it’s too beautiful to disrupt. 

“Josh, have you really been looking at your reflection this entire time?” 

It’s late, and everyone but you and Jun have left the restaurant by the time the piano player arrives.

You’ve long since finished your meal, having shared a large plate of spaghetti and meatballs after Jun had said he wasn’t even that hungry anyways. You had ordered two cups of coffee and a shared berry panna cotta, way too lost in making conversation about everything and anything to actually notice the passing of time. In reality, it’s only when the coffee has run cold and the musician has started playing that you notice an hour has passed since the guys had left for their rooms. 

The song is not one you recognize, but apparently does, judging from the movement of his fingers against the table. He’s looking at the musician while he runs his fingers on the tablecloth like it’s some sort of invisible piano, making sure to get every single movement right in a tempo that perfectly matches the one that’s being played. You’re not sure if he notices, but his body has begun to sway ever so slightly, somehow matching the movement of his fingers.

The place is the same, yet it feels like a completely different one, even when the only thing that has changed is the music. It’s almost atemporal, like it could be night and day at the exact same time, as if it was simply something out of a dream. 

“Do you know this song?” 

Jun nods. He keeps his eyes on the musician, and a part of you wonders if it’s because he wishes that were him. 

“Yeah, it’s one of my favorites,” he answers, smiling. “I used to play it when I was growing up, back when I was learning. I remember how excited my parents were when I finally got the movements right after years of practice. I guess a part of their excitement that day was a part of what made me fall so in love with music that I decided it was what I wanted to do with my life.” 

“How did you learn to play the piano? Seungcheol says you’re really good, and yet, you’ve never played with me around.”

“My mom’s a piano teacher. She used to give classes at this one prestigious school in our neighborhood, and I would hide behind the kitchen door and listen whenever she had a student,” Jun says. “I always liked how it sounded, so one night I just sat down on the piano and started playing. My mom started giving me classes the very next day.” 

“And what about composing? How did that start?” 

You had ordered a refill for your coffee and drink from your cup as Jun starts talking. 

“I don’t know, maybe with school, or maybe just with books in general. I was always dreaming, thinking about stories. Sometimes I couldn’t get the ones I was learning about out of my mind, and before I knew it, there were so many scenarios being born in my head that I simply had no idea what to do with them.” 

“So you started writing them.” 

Jun nods. “After some time, they started turning into songs. I would be looking at the lyrics and would suddenly start hearing a certain tune playing from the back of my mind. It was only a matter of time until I realized what I kept writing were songs rather than just tales, and they started meaning something more to me. Music makes the world go round, but it’s the lyrics that give it meaning.” 

“Said like a true poet,” you say, a soft laugh leaving your lips as you raise your cup to then once more. “I can tell your lyrics mean a lot to you. I know it probably sounds a bit silly, but I can feel it, you know? The emotion behind them. The words come alive before they’re even in my mouth.”

“Sometimes I can’t really tell what I’m feeling until I turn it into a song. The words come from a place so deep inside I can’t reach them on my own, but have to turn onto a pen and a piece of paper to know what they are,” he finally looks away from the musician. He’s still smiling, softly, gently. “It's a little weird. They feel both so deeply personal yet completely different from myself, as if the Jun that exists in the songs is a completely different person from the Jun in the real world.”

You fall quiet. You try to make sense of Jun’s words in your head as he reaches to grab a hold of your hand, but they’re way too beautiful, too meaningful, for you to tamper with. So you feel your heart grow warm at the passion behind them, looking at the man in front of you like he had just painted the stars upon the night sky. 

“Will you dance with me?” 

“Jun, no one is dancing.” 

“And when have you let that stop you?”

Setting the napkin over the table, Jun gets up from his seat. He stretches his arm out at you, offering his hand, his silver rings reflecting the light upon its touch. And he looks at you, eyes sparkling brighter than ever under the restaurant’s delicate lightning, completely absorbed in the way your body imitates his movements.

You let Jun lead you through the sea of tables, all the way to where the little stage is located. There’s a small space that has been left between the stage and the neighboring tables, and you wonder if maybe dancing is what it’s meant for, despite not being used for it. But Jun is quick to replace your thoughts until they’re only about him, pulling you close to his chest and letting his hand rest against your waist. 

“Just focus on me and I’ll focus on you,” he whispers, moving to talk right against your ear. “Hold me a bit closer and forget about everything else.” 

Pulled flush against his frame, you let your hands fall on his back, closing your eyes as you allow him to sway you to the rhythm of the music. He moves in a way that almost has you wondering if maybe you are flying, but you’re not sure if it’s because of his dancing or if it’s just because it’s him. 

You recognize the song the minute Jun starts singing the words. It’s soft, so much you wouldn’t have heard him if you hadn’t been standing so close to him, basically hugging him flush against yourself. It’s Love Is (The Tender Trap) by Frank Sinatra, and you smile at the similarity between the lyrics and the feeling in your stomach. 

He gives you a twirl and it’s like there are a thousand butterflies flying within you, knowing there really is no getting out, because there is no denying something that manages to make you feel so wonderful. He smiles at you and you’re sure you’re falling in love with Wen Junhui, thinking of the way his kiss had made you tingle once upon a starry night. 

“Keep on steppin’, you’re falling behind!” 

Jun laughs, turning back to face you. The breeze ruffles his hair as he moves, thin strands falling onto his forehead. The sky is a bright blue and the sun is shining with all its might, but Jun’s light blue button up and beige bell-bottoms still rustle in the wind. 

“It’s not my fault you walk that fast,” you say, quickening your pace to catch up with him. He moves smoothly as you meet him, circling your waist with his arm and holding you next to him as you walk. 

“Ah, that’s more like it,” he mumbles as he resumes his walk. His pace is not as fast, looking so much more at ease as he looks around at his surroundings. 

It had been Jun’s idea to spend your free day walking around the city, after Mingyu and the rest of his expedition crew had talked about their experience over breakfast. Some of the other guys had left earlier, excited about going to whatever stores they had seen on the bus before reaching the hotel, leaving you and Jun to simply stroll around and see what you find. 

“This is nice,” he mentions. “It’s been a while since I felt this relaxed.” 

“It’s nice you can feel relaxed in the middle of a tour,” you say, giggling. “But I get what you mean, having a break in the schedule, even if we’re only starting.”

“I think you’re the only rockstar I’ve met that actually uses the word schedule in their daily vocabulary.”

“Yeah, but that’s because I’m the only ‘rockstar’ you’ve met. I mean, besides… Seungkwan. Honestly, he’s the most rockstar material out of all of us.”

“Okay, Barbra Streisand.”

“You have not met Barbra Streisand!” 

“In my dreams.”

“Oh, I didn’t know those counted.”

The boulevard is lively. There’s people strolling up and down on both sides of the street, very much like you and Jun, with their pace and actions revealing there’s not much hurry behind their walks. Cars of all models and colors drive through the street, your walk having a varied background orchestra composed of revving engines, passing conversations and the occasional music that was audible from the entrance of some business. It made for the typical city noise, not much different from the one at home, but somehow perfectly fitting for the particularities of the sight. 

The two of you walk while holding the other, occasionally bumping shoulders with some other pedestrian when not paying particular attention. There’s truly not much on either of your minds behind the wonder of getting to know yet another city and enjoying the warmth of a sunny Thursday evening in each other’s company.

“Is there anything you wanna do?” Jun asks, slowing down his pace but not completely stopping. 

“Not right now,” you answer. “We could stop somewhere for a soda or something later, if you want. You know, since you won yesterday and all.” 

“Let’s go in here, then,” Jun says, moving his hand from your waist to your hand, softly pulling on you to the side. 

You quickly follow him as he walks inside one of the stores, never losing the grip on his hand. The front is small, walls painted red and a bright purple signboard hanging over the glass doors, reading Vintage Records and Books, along with a few music notes that look hand drawn over the surface in multiple colors. There are crates full of books and vinyls, the covers of all of them a bit faded by the sun or scraped over the passage of time. At a first glance you can identify some Johnny Cash copies alongside the assorted records, what must have been a bright green cover now looking surprisingly muted. 

And once you walk inside, the interior is just as lively as the outside. The place is covered in shelves, littered with books on one side of the store and with records in the other, with small placards dividing the shelves and categorizing the products. You can tell it’s a wide variety, with hundreds upon hundreds of colorful covers composing a contrast with the burnt purple of the walls. There are horizontal lines painted all across the walls in a bright green and an almost creamy white, which is replicated in a triangle patterned rug of the exact same colors, resting in the middle of the store. 

Among the shelves, there’s an assortment of indoor plants hanging from the ceiling in bright green ceramic pots, along with a few small trees located between some of the shelves themselves. On the rare vacant spaces in the walls there are band posters or book quotes, some of them autographed and some of them pasted one over the other with washed out tape. 

It feels oddly warm inside the shop, and you wonder if it’s merely because of the way the light breaks in from the tall windows up front. There’s a faint scent of flowers that reaches your nose as soon as you walk in, mixing in with the smell of paper and wood. And it’s heavenly.

“Hey, welcome!” Says someone from behind the bright pink counter. He looks around Jun’s age, with a long mane of dark brown hair that goes below his shoulders. He’s wearing a black hat and a green jacket, grinning at the two of you over the pages of a magazine. “Let me know if you see something you’re down with!” 

“It smells nice in here,” Jun tells you, but he must have spoken loud enough for the man to hear, because his grin grows in size. 

“Thanks, it’s home-made potpourri! I make it myself when there aren’t as many customers coming in,” he says, gesturing to a few jars displayed on a small counter. A few minutes ago, you wouldn’t think it was actually possible for someone to smile so big. “It’s for sale too, and it works really well on large spaces! Looks pretty groovy when it’s on display, if I do say so myself.” 

Jun smiles back, walking over to one of the tall stands where a bright orange sign announces a deal on the records.

“Oh, if you buy one of those, you can take a book from this bin right here for free,” the man says. You can’t make out the letters in his name tag from a distance, but you’re almost sure they start with an S. “You can try them out on that player over there, see if it’s nifty. They’re all second hand, but the quality’s off the hook.” 

You look around as Jun’s fingers graze over the records, flicking them so quick you’re not sure if he’s actually reading the title before discarding them. You hadn’t noticed the man had a record playing in the turntable he had signaled to, quickly recognizing the guitar solo of Jimi Hendrix’s Love or Confusion. 

“Hey, wanna get this Bob Dylan one for Josh? See if he likes the hat?” Jun asks, holding a record in his hand without turning back at you. “Maybe there’s a Kerouac book in that bin you can take with you. You know, for the next bus ride - oh, this one’s groovy!”

“Oh, of course you’d pick a Barbra Streisand record.”

“Yeah, she’s my best friend!” Jun giggles. “You know, besides from you. And Seungcheol, but he doesn’t really count.” 

“I’ll keep your secret, don’t worry. He won’t know you like me better.”

“A lot better.” 

You spend hours browsing the shop, laughing at the silly jokes made by the cashier (whose name is Seokmin) and talking about pasts spent together and pasts spent apart, conversations sewn together by a smile. You had even slow-danced to a couple Elvis songs, all while resting your head against Jun’s chest as Seokmin clapped at the two of you for, as he had said it, resembling a romantic scene from one of his favorite movies. 

And you’re not surprised at how familiar it feels, because in the last few days, Jun had come to mean much more to you than anything you could have ever thought. If you were as much of a hopeless romantic as he was, you’d even think it’s because your conexion runs even deeper than the simple process of falling for a friend, but you merely smile as the thought begins to form inside your head. And you laugh at how much it sounds like one of his songs. 

Because there’s as much beauty in the way he smiles as there is in the way it makes you feel. 

The sun’s beginning to set by the time you and Jun leave the record shop. The wind has gotten colder and the breeze has grown stronger, but as Jun tugs you close to his side, you don’t think you’ve ever felt warmer. 

He’s holding just as many records as you’re holding books, letting you make all the picks from the bin once he had purchased his vinyls, along with a jar of Seokmin’s home-made potpourri. 

His hand searches for yours as soon as you step outside.

“Can’t believe we’re almost there.”

The walk back to the hotel is surprisingly quick. 

Jun had been humming the melody to a song Seokmin had played back when you were at the shop, adding a slight bounce to his step as the pitch in his voice rose and fell with the beat of the song. He had smiled the entire way back, occasionally stopping his hum to point at the colors in the sky or their effects on your shadows on the ground, never failing to look at the smaller details that worked together in one beautiful, cohesive picture. 

But it still feels so much quicker than it had been the other way around, almost seems shorter, as if it had been a different path altogether.

Maybe it’s because you’re not as distracted by the storefront and the other passerbys, or maybe it’s just the feeling of bathing in the setting sun when making your way back that somehow makes the entire thing seem shorter. Jun had stopped to get a pair of pastries and two cups of coffee at a small bakery you hadn’t noticed earlier but went unaverted once the signs lit up, which now await inside a small paper bag and in two paper cups, respectively. As you sip from one of the cups, you think it’s the best coffee you’ve had in a long while. 

Jun suggests yet another game on the way back, making you smile as he tries to locate every single red platform shoe worn by a woman over 5’0”, which, surprisingly, aren’t really that many. And you should have guessed from the moment he had said it, but he was just trying to let you win (because, after all, he had won the last two games and just had to pay the coke back). 

“Ah, you’re getting lucky with your pick!” 

“You were the one that chose what we’d look for!” 

“Just let it be our secret,” he says, turning to wink in your direction. 

You can feel the coolness of the breeze nipping at your nose when you finally reach the hotel, walking through the glass doors with Jun following close behind. He still hasn’t let go of your hand. 

“Do you want to get dinner?” You ask. You can smell the sugar and the cinnamon from the pastries, and your mouth begins to water. “There’s this other pasta dish on the menu that sounds just as good as the one we had yesterday.” 

Jun purses his lips, giving a slight squeezing to your hand. “Let’s get room service, I want to show you something.” 

He starts walking towards the elevator, moving slowly and letting you admire the pastel green lobby in all of its glory. There’s some faint jazz music playing as you walk through the lobby, which you hadn’t noticed until then. A big tree rises from the center of the room, matching some smaller ones that are perched next to the deep green tufted couches and complimenting the flower arrangements that have been used as decorations in both the small coffee tables and the bar at the reception. It’s a slightly different vibe than the one from the dining hall, but somehow, both of them look just as fancy. 

“What is it?” You ask. 

“You’ll see.”

“Can I get a clue?”

“No, you’re going to help me finish it.”

“Please don’t tell me you also collect those freaky deaky puzzles Chan likes to put together in his free time.”

Jun giggles, shaking his head as you reach the elevator. “Ew, the anatomy ones? No, no way.” 

The way up to Jun’s room is spent with him trying to guess the elevator music by singing random lyrics and seeing which one sounds best. Not that he got a single one right, but it was certainly entertaining to watch him try. When you finally reach the 10th floor, Jun is singing the lyrics to Cher’s Where Do You Go to a jazz melody very much similar to the one from the lobby, and you’re sure he’s only doing it to make you smile. 

“Bienvenue to my humble abode,” Jun mutters as he opens the door to his room, making sure to bow down and open his arm to signal the room, completing the entire gesture with a short giggle. “I escaped having Hoshi as a roommate so I have the room all to myself.” 

“And you have Seungkwan’s piano,” you mention as you walk inside, pointing to the small electronic piano that was carefully positioned next to the window. “Does he know?”

“No, I stole it from the van last night,” he answers, laughing and plopping onto the bed. “Oh, I’m so tired!”

The room is not too different from yours; a muted orange wallpaper matching the fuzzy carpet. Both twin beds in Jun’s room are covered in a dandelion yellow duvet, one of them holding all of his luggage while Jun rests on the other one (the one he must have slept in last night, closest to the window). There’s a small television on the vanity, the box a combination of bright beige plastic and faux wood, surprisingly going along with the white lamps that stand on both sides of it. 

“What is it that you wanted to show me?” You ask, coming to sit in one of the chairs next to the vanity. They’re big, tufted, and the color matches with the one of the duvets. The chair is not the most comfortable, but as long as the bed is, you don’t really have to worry about it. 

Jun’s purchases lay next to him on the bed, Barbra Streisand’s Stoney End sitting on top of the pile. He had bought five records, four for himself and one for you (though he had refused to tell you which one it was, insisting it would be a surprise). You had selected five books to match his purchase, including a copy of Ray Bradbury’s The Martian Chronicles, which Jun had suggested you take because of the colorful cover. 

“I’ve been working on a song,” he mutters, still facing down on the bed. The words come out muffled, but they’re still audible. “I think you’ll like it.”

You let out a laugh. “I like all of your songs.” 

“This one’s special,” he says, moving so he’s resting on his shoulders. His hair has gotten a bit disheveled, falling all over his face as his lips curl up in a hazy smile. “I’m working on the melody, too. I just need to hear your opinion about it.” 

“You’ve been inspired,” you comment, reaching over to the vanity where Jun had placed the pastries bag. You take a roll into your hand and notice it’s still warm. 

Jun winks before sitting up. “You’d know all about it.” 

“All I do is sing your songs,” you say, breaking a piece of bread and tucking it into your mouth. It melts as soon as it meets your tongue. “You’re the artist behind the art. Should I start calling you Da Vinci?” 

“I like Monet better. I’m a huge fan of the Impression Sunrise, even got a poster of it up in my room back at home,” Jun answers. He moves so he’s sitting down on the edge of the bed next to Seungkwan’s piano, grabbing a small notebook from the bedside table. You recognize it instantly, because it’s the one he always carries with him. He pats the space next to himself. “Here, I’ll show you.” 

You leave your things on the bed next to all his luggage, books carefully propped against a faux leather duffle bag. Jun takes a piece of the cinnamon bread as soon as you sit down next to him, moving closer as he does, a whiff of his cologne reaching your nose. The duvet is of fine linen, surprisingly soft against your fingertips as you place your hands at your sides. 

“I started writing it the other day,” he says, opening his notebook and placing it on his laps. You try to take a peek at it, but the (messily written) words aren’t readable from a distance. It looks beautiful though, fine lines of black ink rising like a carefully painted artwork on the thick, creamy white paper. “When you fell asleep on the bus.” 

“It’s your fault for making me read to you!” You laugh, moving and bumping his shoulder with yours. “And, in my defense, the top of your head was extremely comfortable.” 

“Yeah it’s like a portable pillow,” he jokes. “Maybe I should start advertising it.”

“Bet Seungkwan would take you up on it, he got asleep on the bus too!” 

There is something about Jun that makes everything seem lighter, helping the seconds run fast against the clock. 

“Here, I’ll show you the melody,” he says, straightening his back and placing his fingers on the keyboard. The assortment of rings he’s wearing had felt cool against your fingers. “I stayed up all night to come up with it. I haven’t finished the lyrics yet, but the music is already here.” 

“Is that why you asked me for help? Are you gonna fall asleep on me?” 

Jun smiles, but doesn’t turn to look at you. “No, not really,” he mutters. 

He plays a key, but doesn’t give it much thought. It’s a quick, crisp sound, not really one that’s a part of a movement, even less of a song. Maybe it’s a reflex, like the clicking of the pen had once been, a mere outlet for his nervousness. He keeps his eyes set on his fingers as he speaks, not really directing his words at you but surely saying them because you’re there to hear them. 

His voice is soft, almost shy. “It’s because you’re the inspiration behind it.” 

And he doesn’t say anything else, but lets his fingers graze upon the keys as he starts playing. You’re not exactly sure what you’re thinking of, mind and heart running a thousand beats per second as you feel it thumping against your chest. There’s a feeling growing in your stomach, and whether it's due to adrenaline or some deeper, more complex feeling remains a mystery. 

You close your eyes as Jun plays, each note igniting fireworks in your head. The music flows into your ears like honey, setting light upon the darkest places of your mind, overflowing your senses with Jun’s interpretation. Every single note sounds just like him, as if he’s becoming the music as he’s making it. His fingers run over the keys in the same way an artist’s brush glazes over a canvas, immersing itself in their creation to a point their creation is all they are. He has become a song, a beautifully crafted sonata, making your heart feel warmer with every moment. You know it’s because the song itself is beautiful - but so is he, and that translates into every single sound, every single feeling. 

You let out a gasp as he begins to sing; it’s broken, a few lines here and there. You can tell it’s the bits he’s finished, the ones he’s comfortable with, leaving everything like a game of fill in the blanks. He had sung to you before, either in the song demos or in some practices where he had been finishing a song nearby - but his voice had never sounded sweeter. Your heart tugs against your chest as you listen to him, words coming alive in your head like the ones in the pages of a romance novel. 

“Pretty eyed, pirate smile, you’ll marry a music man…”

Your hands ball up into fists, scrunching the soft duvet as you try to keep your eyes closed, no matter how much your eyelids are threatening to flutter open. You don’t want to see anything that isn’t him, or his voice; don’t want to feel anything that isn’t the sudden warmth that rises all over your body, making you feel like you’re flying - 

And he stops, hands suddenly moving away from the keyboard after a faulty note. 

“Stop distracting me!” He says, laughing as his cheeks grow red in embarrassment. He hands his hands on his lap, fingers absentmindedly fumbling with the rings he has on. 

You don’t open your eyes, joining him in his laughter and falling on your back onto the bed. You bring your hands to your face, hiding behind them as your laughter grows louder. 

“I wasn’t doing anything!” You answer. 

You feel the space next to you dip as Jun imitates your movement, resting onto his back. His notebook has fallen to the floor, open in half, but he doesn’t notice. He brings his hand to your face, taking your own and moving it away from your face. He props himself up on his elbow, connecting your fingers over the duvet in the space that separates the two of you. 

“Did you like it?” He asks, words falling from his lips between jolts of laughter. His voice is soft, and it feels like velvet against your ears. “You know, before I messed up.” 

“It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard,” you whisper, opening your eyes and rolling to your side to look back at him. “Did you really write it because of me?”

Jun nods. He’s smiling, looking at you fondly as he searches for the words inside his head. “You’re a song in and out of yourself.” 

He doesn’t move as you stare into his eyes. Looking at him, you’re suddenly reminded of the night he had kissed you - the same constellations that had shined high above your heads now reflected in his eyes, drawing you deeper into his spell. You feel like you’re falling, the entire world falling as you lay on the bed, his hand on yours the only thing pulling you back into reality. It’s as if the world around you changes every single time you’re with Jun, spinning wildly out of orbit and transforming into an unknown fantasy, with the only sure thing being the way his eyes come to rest upon you. You’re not sure if anything else exists apart from Jun, because suddenly he’s all you can see. All you can feel. 

“And I think I’ve fallen in love with you,” he continues. He keeps his eyes on you as he speaks, as if trying to assure you his words are only for you to hear. “Or maybe I already was, but only just noticed. I hear your voice in every word, see your face every time I turn around with your name etched deep in my heart. I don’t think I could get you out of my head no matter how hard I tried. And I don’t think I would ever want to.” 

You hadn’t noticed there were tears forming in your eyes until one fell down on your hand, ice cold against the warm skin. You open your mouth, searching for words deep down in your heart, but Jun shakes his head. 

“Just… let me say it, you can go after,” he says. “I’ve been dreaming of love my entire life. As far as I can remember, I’ve always dreamed of feeling it. It wasn’t just something out of a fairytale or a novel, not even a dream coming out to a song. It’s been the theme behind all my songs and the happy ending of all my stories. And never would I have thought it would feel like this. Never would I have thought those dreams would become you, but you’re there, in every single word. In every single thought.” 

He moves, fingers caressing the back of your hand as he gives it a squeeze. He moves his hand, placing yours over his chest, directly over his heart. Although faintly, you’re sure you can feel it beat. 

And you move forward, your other hand on his neck, connecting his lips with yours. It’s warm, and you can make out a vague saltness that is no doubt a product of your tears. But they are long forgotten, the feeling of Jun’s lips against yours setting your body on fire as his hands come to rest upon your skin. You can feel your every vein light up as you move as close to him as you can manage, the space between you always weighing upon the both of you no matter how much you try to reduce it, because the feeling of your bodies pressed against each other is one you simply can’t get enough of. 

He opens his eyes, eyelids fluttering open at the need to see you; to set the final piece of the puzzle in his mind. It’s a puzzle that looks, sounds and moves like you, composed of a love that burns too bright to ignore. 

And as he looks at you, resting comfortably on the soft linen sheets, he’s sure he has never seen such a beautiful sight.

The next few days go by in a flash. 

The days start early, as early as the sun goes up and you have breakfast on some terrace with Jun by your side, with the sun reflected upon his skin like a golden veil. They’re spent in jolts of laughter with your friends, soaking in the sun when sight-seeing in all the cities you’ve visited. They’re spent carelessly singing in the bus, with Joshua and Chan backing up the vocals with loud strums of their guitars, not really caring about beat, or tune, or whoever may be listening. They’re spent getting to know the world with the people that make the entire thing worth it, smiling and laughing along. They’re spent in sleepless nights on stages or someone’s backyard, twisting and turning in Jun’s hand as he moves you to the rhythm of the music. They’re spent in him watching you from a balcony, dancing and singing along to the crowds adoring your every move, finding himself lost in your voice. 

And they’re spent in composing, with Jun finding inspiration in the smallest of your movements, lyrics suddenly being born in the crack of a smile and the fondness behind a look. 

By the time the song is finally ready to be sung, he’s still a bit nervous. It feels like a deja vu, with him tapping quickly upon a faux tiled floor. 

He rests his back against a wall, standing next to a closed door. He tries to move out of the way as people pass in a hurry, carrying equipment or reading from lists, simply looking around as he tries to count on the passing of time. He tries to maintain a steady beat with his foot, counting along in his head as he reads from the piece of paper he’s holding. Trying not to think about the sounds of a growing crowd, he can feel the paper crumpling in his hand, thinking that his grip on it might be a little too tight. Nonetheless, he can’t loosen it up, no matter how much he wants to. 

Night has fallen, and he can see the stars from the small window that rises at the top of the wall in front of him. There’s some moonlight breaking in, lighting up the ground and the glass detailings on the colorful tiles. For a second, he thinks of how familiar it feels, to be able to see a picture where there is none, and he smiles. Backstage or not, the night looks the same all around. 

He lets out a big breath, moving his free hand around as he does until he hears the door next to him flutter open. A laughing Chan walks out from it, followed by Josh and Mingyu, all of them with their guitars strapped down and ready to be played. They pat Jun on the back before they follow the small arrows on the ground, walking in the direction of the stage. 

He runs through the lyrics in his head as the rest of the band follows, you walking behind while trying to fix the back of your jacket. Minghao had suggested some fringes on the sleeves to add some “movement” but they had proven a bit impractical when getting stuck whenever you moved your arms. 

“Hey,” Jun says, grabbing your attention. “Do you have a moment?” 

You smile. “What are you doing back here? I thought you and Cheol were gonna watch from the balcony.”

“We are,” he confirms, nodding his head. “I just wanted to say hi.”

His voice is shaking as he speaks, as much as he tries to hide it. You take his free hand in yours, stopping his movements in midair, giving his fingers a slight squeeze as you attempt to bring him some comfort. 

“Are you nervous?” You ask. He simply nods, smiling when he feels you tightening your grip on his hand. “Is it because of the song?” 

“I know it’s a bit silly,” he comments. Despite holding the piece of paper, he runs his hand through his combed-back hair, causing a few strands to fall messily over his forehead. It looks so much better than when it’s gelled up. “But it feels different this time around. I don’t know, It feels a lot more personal somehow.” 

Bringing his hand up to your face, you give it a kiss. He sighs at the feeling. 

“They’re gonna love it, Jun,” you say. 

He smiles at you. “As long as you love it, that’s more than enough for me.” 

“Well, you already know that I do,” you giggle. “I’ll always love every single song you write.”

Laughing with you, he pulls you to his chest as he envelops you in a hug. Sighing against you, he tucks his face in your neck as he feels you hugging him back. You smile, feeling him press a light kiss on the exposed skin. He smells of sugar and cinnamon. 

“Leave them breathless,” he whispers as he breaks apart from the embrace. 

He kisses you one more time, quickly pecking the top of your head before he walks away. You give him one last smile, running your fingers down his arm as you begin to part.  

You walk in opposing directions, and Jun quickens his pace as he climbs the stairs leading to the balcony. He can hear the crowd growing with every step he takes, feeling a knot forming in his stomach as he moves his fingers around in an attempt to control his nerves. The way up seems familiar, consisting in dimly lit hallways and semi-peeled off posters on the walls, and he doesn’t even notice a few minutes have passed by the time he finally reaches the balcony. 

It’s not the Moonwalker, but the place shines just as bright. He greets Seungcheol, placing a palm on his friend’s back as he comes to stand next to him. 

“Hey, I was about to go looking for you,” he says, as a form of greeting. He smiles at his friend and motions to the public below with his beer bottle. “Great turn out tonight! I think this is our biggest venue yet, it’s amazing! I was talking to some guy over there, and he says a story is being printed on the newspapers about how successful the tour has been so far.” 

Jun smiles. “They deserve it. They’re an amazing group.”

“And they have amazing songs,” Seungcheol comments, nudging Jun’s shoulder with his own. 

Jun sets his eyes on the empty stage just as the lights begin to fall. A limelight focuses on the center of it, right where the standing microphone rises high among the sea of instruments. You walk out from the side with the rest of the band following close behind, and just like his very own, everyone’s eyes are on you. 

“We have a very special song for you tonight,” you say. You look up in the direction of the balcony, and Jun feels his heart beat loudly against his chest when you wink at him. “We hope you enjoy the show.” 

A breath gets caught in his throat when Seungkwan starts playing, fingers delicately grazing over the keyboard of his piano. He can feel Seungcheol’s hand coming to rest on his shoulder, giving him a gentle squeeze, but all he can focus on is you. 

It’s always been that way, and the feeling on his chest lets him know it always will. It feels like a thousand butterflies finally setting flight. 

He smiles when you begin to sing, forgetting about everything else. The world around him stops existing, and just as the words start leaving your lips, he lets himself go. Because he had spent his entire life dreaming of this moment, thinking about the feeling being born in his chest. And he’s happy he’s waited, because it feels better than he could have ever imagined. 

Completely shaking off his nerves, he closes his eyes and lets out a breath. 

Hold me closer tiny dancer… 

[frankiefellinlove]

THE STEVIE FILES PROUDLY PRESENTS - THE AMAZING ROCK & ROLL ODYSSEY OF STEVEN VAN ZANDT

From The Source to Soulfire via Springsteen and Sam & Dave

Recorded, transcribed, edited, written, produced, mixed and mastered by MIKE SAUNDERS

SIDE TWO (1975-1983)

Track 6: Miami Steve, The Asbury Jukes, Tenth Avenue and Hammersmith

In early 1975, Steven returned to New Jersey from Florida, inappropriately dressed for the winter weather. “I came back with the flowered shirts and the Sam Snead hat and continued wearing them in the snow.” For the next seven years, he was known as Miami Steve. He joined Southside in the Blackberry Booze Band and within weeks they’d altered and expanded its line-up (adding keyboard player Kevin Kavanaugh from Middletown and bass player Alan Berger from The Dovells’ backing band), transformed its musical direction, changed its name to Southside Johnny and the Asbury Jukes (referencing their mutual hero Little Walter’s band and first single release) and established a successful three-nights-a-week, five-sets-a-night residency at the Stone Pony in Asbury Park.

“Just before that, me, Southside, Bruce and Garry went to see Sam & Dave. A life-changing moment. So me and Southside basically decided we were gonna be the white Sam & Dave, with rock guitar. So the horns came in and although we didn’t know it, we would change the entire concept of what a bar band sounded like and the respect a bar band would get by making it creative, soul meets rock. ‘Bar band’ was an insult. ‘You’re a bar band,’ which means you can’t make it in the real music world. After the Jukes, they started using ‘bar band’ in reviews and they meant it as a compliment, with Graham Parker and Elvis Costello and Mink DeVille. We changed the way people thought about these things.”

The Miami Horns were a vital component of the new band. Steven composed the horn arrangements, but although he’s always possessed a natural ability to imagine horn parts, he doesn’t read or write music (“never have”) and has always required a little help from his friends to transcribe them. “I have people write ‘em down, to this day. I like that actually. You have to do a lotta things yourself so any excuse I find to collaborate I do it. I find other people will bring something to the party usually. That’s why [I’ve] used Eddie Manion for I don’t know how many years. He knows how I like to voice things. Once I think of something and create the parts, I get bored if I have to voice every part, exactly right. If I hear a voicing I don’t like, I will change it, but I get bored by the mechanics of everything.”

While the Jukes were building their reputation and growing their audience, Bruce invited Steven to hang out at the Born To Run sessions in New York, where he was working on “Tenth Avenue Freeze-Out.” David Sanborn and The Brecker Brothers had been hired to play the horn parts, but Steven created a spontaneous new arrangement. He’s told this anecdote countless times, but I ask him to repeat it because it provides perfect examples of his innate musical talents in action (“I can hear the parts, who knows why?”), the nature of his friendship with Bruce (“I still am the only human being not afraid of him”), and his no-bullshit attitude (“I didn’t know anything about diplomacy”).

“So he says, ‘Whaddya think?’ I said, ‘It sucks, that’s what I think!’ I didn’t know how uptight everybody was. I didn’t give a fuck either. The managers and producers were all afraid of him already. He asked me a question, I’m gonna be honest. I’m trying to help my friend here, not make points with some fucking record company guy. Moment of silence. ‘He just said it sucks, which means we all suck.’ Bruce [says] ‘Alright then, go in and fucking fix it.’ So I did. I went in and sang the [new] parts. I didn’t know they were the most famous [session] guys in New York. It wasn’t insulting them, the chart was ridiculous. That was my thing, just from the Jukes being around maybe six months.”

“I wasn’t really feeling the pressure that Bruce was at the time. I didn’t realise his life depended on this album. His first two records hadn’t done very well. They wanted to drop him. I don’t know how aware I was of any of that. He invited me into the session and I’m laying on the floor. All I can think is, we’ve been hoping to get into recording our whole lives, I’m listening to this and it sounds fucking terrible. Not just the horn charts, everything. It was the worst period of recording in history. Virtually every record from the 50s and 60s sounded great, virtually every record from the early 70s sounded terrible. Because engineers took over, started close miking, padding the walls. Separation, separation, separation, all the things that make rock ‘n’ roll suck. The idea was, you isolate everything and make it sound exciting in the mix. Which they managed to do, miraculously, with the Born To Run album. Because it was pieced together in a bizarre way. Bruce made that record 100% out of willpower, he willed that into existence!”

Soon after making his instinctive artistic contribution (and singing backing vocals on “Thunder Road”), Steven was invited to join the E Street Band. It was a chance to complete the circle, play with his old friend again and settle any unfinished business from three summers earlier, when he’d been sent packing at the Greetings sessions. He made his live debut on the opening night of the Born To Run tour, which ran until New Year’s Eve. His input and influence over the next decade, onstage and off, would prove invaluable. (Bruce even began playing The Dovells’ “You Can’t Sit Down” as an occasional encore). In the fall, the tour took everyone to Europe for the first time, where the culture shock was off the charts. “There was no hamburgers, no peanut butter. The only place you could get a hamburger in the whole of Europe was the newly-opened first Hard Rock Café. There was a line around the block even then.”

Culinary deficiencies aside, Bruce also had to endure the overblown hype surrounding his first UK gigs at London’s Hammersmith Odeon, where Columbia had displayed the legend “Finally London Is Ready For Bruce Springsteen” on every available surface prior to his arrival. “[It was] completely obnoxious,” says Steven. “[Bruce] spent half the time ripping down posters. It was an embarrassing time for him, between that and Time and Newsweek. He didn’t like that stuff. You wanna be in charge of your life, that’s why we get into rock ‘n’ roll. Suddenly it was slipping out of his control. We made the mistake of playing a place with seats. It just made the show that much harder. But by the end, we got ‘em outta the seats. We went to Amsterdam, Stockholm, and back to London. The second one was a bit easier.” The experience had a prolonged effect on Bruce. “He was uptight in those days and would remain so through Darkness into The River, until he asked me to produce the record and we found a way to have some fun.”

Track 7: Epic Records, Steve Popovich and The Stone Pony

Back on the shore, Southside Johnny and the Asbury Jukes continued the Stone Pony residency throughout 1975, gradually consolidating their line-up. For the next three years, between Springsteen commitments, Steven worked as their producer, arranger, manager, part-time guitarist and principal songwriter. In early 1976, after circulating a demo tape, they signed a recording deal with Epic, with assistance from Steve Popovich, the label’s Vice-President of A&R. “I Don’t Want To Go Home,” the song that Steven had kept in his back pocket since his days on the oldies circuit, became the title track of their debut album and their first single. Ben E King’s loss was Southside’s gain.

“I produced [the song] in a way which was appropriate for the Jukes. They didn’t have a big background vocal thing going on,” explains Steven. “I was very conscious of being able to try and do most of it live, although I put strings on it, on my very first production! There was no synthesiser in those days that could play strings. That’s why I re-cut it [on Soulfire] the original way I pictured it, with the singer and background vocals answering. That idea of writing for someone else is extremely important, critical and essential. It changes the way you write completely, from when you think of writing for yourself, which is extraordinarily complicated and confusing. It’s not easy, but easier, to write for someone else. There’s their identity in your mind at least. I’m writing them a song. That’s a wonderful exercise for songwriters.” I Don’t Want To Go Home was released in the summer of 1976 (“I’ve never received one penny of royalties, but whatever!”). The Jukes later began their first national tour and made their European debut in 1977.

Recommended by Bruce, Steve Popovich was one of a kind. “The last of the real music guys in the business. The only other person I can compare him to would be Lance Freed on the publishing side, who’s unique. He’s actually into music and songwriting and the things you’re supposed to be into when you have a job description like that. And Frank Barsalona, the only agent who really did his job and would set the standard for everybody to follow. Those three guys, really quite historic. [It was] Popovich’s idea to launch the record with a broadcast from the Stone Pony. Never been done before. Popovich loved the local scene idea and he largely made it happen. It never would have been recognised nationally, I don’t think, if it hadn’t been for Popovich, who had the vision to say it’s cool if you’re not from New York. Rather than being embarrassed if you’re not from New York, LA or Nashville, it’s actually cool.”

Track 8: Production Credits and Political Awakening

Steven developed his talents as a producer and songwriter with the Jukes in the late 70s, following I Don’t Want To Go Home with This Time It’s For Real and Hearts Of Stone. Successive releases featured greater quantities of his original material, which included “I Played The Fool,” “This Time Baby’s Gone For Good,” “Take It Inside” and “Some Things Just Don’t Change,” apparently written for another of his heroes, David Ruffin of The Temptations. During this period, he also produced the “Say Goodbye To Hollywood” single for Ronnie Spector and the E Street Band and provided production assistance on Darkness On The Edge Of Town. His relationship with the Jukes ended when they left Epic for Mercury in 1979 and he went on to co-produce The River and two comeback albums for Gary US Bonds, Dedication and On The Line. It was an impressive fast-track apprenticeship. Steven had no production experience when he began. He acquired the skills and learned from his mistakes in the studio. “That’s why all three Jukes albums are different,” he says. “By the time we did The River, I knew what I wanted to do. I got it all down by then. That’s how I tend to do things. I can picture what I want. Jump in, do it, let’s see what happens.”

Steven also kept his promise to himself to bring his musical heroes out of obscurity, initially as guests on the first two Jukes albums. “I did what I could, but I wanted to do so much more,” he admits. “First time I get in a studio, got Lee Dorsey out from under a car, where he’s a mechanic. Got Ronnie Spector out of retirement. Second album, we reunited The Coasters, Drifters and Five Satins. Me and Bruce worked with Gary Bonds. We got Ben E King and Chuck Jackson on that record. Those artists had a talent level noticeably above everybody that followed. I wish I’d been insistent on doing more of them. In those [early] days, you actually had to have talent to make records. You had to be able to sing a song, beginning to end, perfectly in tune, perfectly the right melody, and if you fuck up one word, you gotta do the whole thing again. Couldn’t do enough for those people, they were so much fun to produce.”

In addition to his studio accomplishments, Steven played more than 300 shows with Bruce and the E Street Band between 1976 and 1981, primarily on the Darkness On The Edge Of Town and River tours. The majority took place in North America, but the River tour included a European leg that took the band away from home and out of their comfort zone for nine weeks. Much longer than their previous visit in 1975, it was their first significant experience of foreign countries, languages, cultures and political perspectives. They received rave reviews wherever they played, but Steven gradually became aware that not all Europeans viewed the United States in a favourable light.

One particular encounter was pivotal in dramatically reshaping Steven’s worldview. “A kid asked me, ‘Why are you putting missiles in my country?’ I said, ‘I’m not, I’m a guitar player.’ I realised, for the first time in my life, at the age of 30 I’m embarrassed to say, that I’m an American. What the fuck does that mean? I managed to grow up in the middle of civil rights, the Vietnam War, demonstrations about every fucking thing and had no interest in any of it. Amazing when you think about it. Redefining tunnel vision. Suddenly, the tunnel is gone. We’re now successful. Who would have ever figured that would happen, right? Now it’s like, uh-oh, what did I miss, the last 20 years?”

Track 9: Men Without Women, Motown and Mixing In Mono

This revelation accelerated Steven’s growing political awareness, one of two important developments in 1981 that would change the course of his life forever. The second came when he returned from Europe and was approached by EMI America about making a solo album. Having spent six years producing and writing for others, he welcomed the opportunity to have his own creative outlet, which soon expanded into a separate career. In the fall, he enlisted musicians from the E Street Band and the Asbury Jukes to record most of the material for his debut album, Men Without Women, using his established rock-meets-soul sonic blueprint. Including “Lyin’ In A Bed Of Fire,” “Princess Of Little Italy,” “Angel Eyes” and “Until The Good Is Gone,” it remains an undisputed career highlight for Van Zandt devotees, but Steven feels that an outside producer might have helped him make a more commercial record.

“Conventional wisdom is you never should produce yourself and I have to say that’s correct. The only exception I can think of in the history of the business was Prince, who was an extraordinary genius, but other than him, I don’t know anybody who successfully produces themselves.” Describing himself as “extremely schizophrenic, I’m twelve different people, never mind two,” Steven explains how his inner producer failed to control the whims of his inner artist. “Without knowing it, the artist takes over. I was into this extreme naturalism, no logical reason why. I did the whole album live in one day. Came back the second day, did it again, beginning to end. Couple overdubs, that was it. There’s one guitar. The horns aren’t doubled. Nothing’s doubled. Bruce did all the harmony on that record but we couldn’t use his name. We [did] a similar thing with Born In The USA, where we just recorded live in the studio.”

“I made Bob Clearmountain mix ‘Forever’ in mono, to try and achieve the perfect Motown record. It’s never gonna be exact and it shouldn’t be exact, why should it be, but I wanted to capture a Smokey Robinson Motown record. The only way I could do that in my mind was to make it completely mono. He was so good in those days. I mean Bob’s still the best, but in those days he was beyond the best. He was something else when it came down to that Neve board that wasn’t automated, and he’s feelin’ those faders. I made him do something he’d never done before, which requires a whole different way of thinking. You’re now thinking depth-wise and vertically, not horizontally.”

“That’s where my head was at. Can I achieve the emotional communication that my heroes had provided me? My heroes being Motown in general, 10 acts there. Or my heroes at Chess, another 10 acts. Sam Phillips did ‘Rocket 88’ for Ike Turner (Jackie Brenston) and ‘How Many More Years’ for Howlin’ Wolf, three years before Elvis Presley. Unbelievable genius. [I’m] trying to achieve that level of quality in my own world, in my own little bubble, which has these ridiculously high standards. I’m absorbing the 50s and 60s and then trying to integrate them in my head and reproduce them in my own way, not the least bit interested in what’s going on in the 70s or 80s certainly, because it was shit to me, comparatively. An interesting moment here and there. Punk was certainly interesting. But mostly it’s all coming from what I call the renaissance period, ‘51 to ‘71, where it all was created. And that’s true to this day. That’s all I was interested in and that was enough for 10 lifetimes. I didn’t need another bit of input after 1972.”

Track 10: Little Steven, Little Richard and Bob Dylan

In 1982, after recording with Bruce and Gary US Bonds, Steven completed his album, formed the Disciples of Soul (which included Dino Danelli from The Rascals on drums, Jean Beauvoir on bass and Eddie Manion, Mark Pender, Stan Harrison and La Bamba on horns) and played a debut concert at New York’s Peppermint Lounge. Released in October, a month after Nebraska, Men Without Women preceded his first national tour and was credited to his new professional name of Little Steven, which would be used for all future solo activities. “I just wanted separation [from] being the sideman,” he explains. “Each of my personalities required a different name, in order to keep it straight in people’s heads and my own head.” The name referenced his early heroes Little Walter, Little Anthony and Little Richard. In his role as an ordained minister, the latter officiated at Steven’s wedding to Maureen Santoro in New York on New Year’s Eve. Percy Sledge sang “When A Man Loves A Woman” as they walked down the aisle and the reception included performances from Gary US Bonds, Little Milton, The Chambers Brothers and the wedding band from The Godfather. “Little Anthony was doing a cruise at the time or he would have been there.”

“All I can think is, we’ve been hoping to get into recording our whole lives, I’m listening to this and it sounds fucking terrible. Not just the horn charts, everything. It was the worst period of recording in history. Virtually every record from the 50s and 60s sounded great, virtually every record from the early 70s sounded terrible. Because engineers took over, started close miking, padding the walls. Separation, separation, separation, all the things that make rock ‘n’ roll suck. The idea was, you isolate everything and make it sound exciting in the mix. Which they managed to do, miraculously, with the Born To Run album. Because it was pieced together in a bizarre way. Bruce made that record 100% out of willpower, he willed that into existence!”

Steven toured internationally in 1983, then dropped the horns, adopted a more contemporary rock sound and made his second album, Voice Of America. It was an explicitly political record that featured “Solidarity,” “I Am A Patriot,” “Out Of The Darkness,” “Los Desaparecidos” and “Undefeated.” Triggered by his River tour experiences in Europe, this radical transformation was completed with a long period of self-education. “I read every book about post World War Two [US] foreign policy. [It was] shocking how often we were on the wrong side. All of these bad things were happening behind the scenes and nobody was talking about them. No political consciousness whatsoever in the country. I decided I have an obligation to say something about this stuff that we’re all paying for with our taxes.”

“Being conscious of the fact that everybody needs their own identity, I figured who the hell needs another love song from a fucking sideman? I’ll be the political guy. Nobody else is doing it. There were people demonstrating of course. Jackson Browne, John Hall, Bonnie Raitt, Graham Nash, those guys. The Grateful Dead were doing a benefit every week, but rarely did it end up in the work. In general, people weren’t putting much politics into the lyrics of their songs.” For artists with commercial aspirations, he concedes, that’s a smart move. “Jefferson Airplane being an exception with ‘Volunteers.’ Big exception, Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young, with Neil Young’s ��Ohio.’”

Steven contends that Bob Dylan’s “Subterranean Homesick Blues” introduced the idea of political consciousness in rock ‘n’ roll. “His first electric song. It’s not given enough credit. The first sentence from Bob Dylan’s electric period, ‘Johnny’s in the basement mixing up the medicine, I’m on the pavement thinking about the government.’ What? You’re doing what? You’re thinking about the government? Excuse me? Who does that? Whoever did that before, in a song, no less? There in that one sentence, Bob Dylan communicated what his entire career was gonna be about, which was having fun with language, with inference, symbolism, metaphor and nonsense lyrics that rhymed. ‘Johnny’s in the basement mixing up the medicine,’ what does that mean? It means whatever you want it to mean, right? Then ‘I’m on the pavement thinking about the government.’ Holy shit! You mean we’re supposed to figure out the government? That, to me, is the most important sentence in all the history of rock ‘n’ roll, right there.”

All photos below by Mike Saunders

[gingwrites]

And they were soulmates - taegi soulmate au

Soulmate au where once you meet your soulmate, you get sick if you’re too far away from your soulmate for too long. Soulmates Yoongi and Taehyung meet, but don’t realize it, and Yoongi, who is part of the group Bangtan, leave for a worldwide tour. The two start to feel sick, but don’t realize the cause. It’s then up to their friends to find out that they’re soulmates!

A/N: this was supposed to be a short one shot, but here we are 10k later. not sorry. I will also be posting this on ao3, so if you’d rather read it there, my ao3 is linked on my masterlist.

Yoongi sometimes wondered if fate hated him. He was 27 and still hadn’t found his soulmate. The one person who fate had created just for him. But then again, neither had the other two members of Bangtan, so he wasn’t exactly alone.

He didn’t know if being world famous was a curse or not. On one hand, he traveled the world and got to meet all kinds of people. People who could potentially be his soulmate. On the other hand, since Bangtan was so famous, he had trouble meeting new people that weren’t work-related or weren’t just after him for his fame and money.

When a person met their soulmate, it was said that they would feel unconditional love for the other person. And if that wasn’t enough proof for people, then if you were separated from your soulmate for a long period of time, both soulmates would get physically ill. Of course, the distance and time had to be great. Soulmates wouldn’t get sick by going to the store, or even a business trip.

Soulmate sickness, as it was so eloquently dubbed by scientists, wasn’t the same for everyone, but there was an estimate on distance and time for most people. For the most part, if soulmates didn’t see each other for around a month and were not within a couple hundred miles, soulmate sickness would set in. Soulmates would start to grow physically weak, their appetite would slowly vanish, they would be tired all the time. On top of that, they would usually have fevers, throw up, and sometimes be delirious. 

If soulmates were sick for a long enough period, they would fall into a coma. If the soulmates couldn’t be reunited, they would die.

Luckily, soulmate sickness was pretty rare. Soulmates usually tested and knew their distance and time restrictions and didn’t travel outside their bounds. Soulmate sickness was usually caused by accident, or by unforeseen circumstances, like natural disasters.

Yoongi wondered if he would ever meet his soulmate. It would be hard enough since he was an idol and people would lie all the time, claiming to be his soulmate. The thought that maybe he didn’t even have a soulmate crossed his mind too many times for him to care for.

“Time to go, Yoongi!” Hoseok yelled from the door, forcing Yoongi to finally look up from his phone and pull his slumped form off the couch. “Fans are waiting! Let’s go, let’s go.”

“You have too much energy for this early in the morning,” Yoongi grumbled, though still following Hoseok’s direction’s and trailing behind the other rapper into the hallway where Namjoon and other staff members were waiting.

Bangtan was about to head to the stage for their latest fan meet. Yoongi loved fan meets. If it weren’t for their fans, Bangtan wouldn’t be where they were today, and they would never be able to give enough thanks to the small amount of fans they got to know during each fan meet.

“Are you ready to meet Bangtan?” a muffled voice came from the behind the door to the stage. A roar of cheers was heard, which brought a small smile to Yoongi’s face. “Well here they are! Kim Namjoon, Min Yoongi, and Jung Hoseok!”

A staff member then opened the door and the cheers became much more clearer and louder. The three members then made their way onto the stage, ready to meet some of their devoted fans.

-

“If you make me late, I will delete your Overwatch account,” Taehyung yelled up the stairs.

He then heard a squawk and running footsteps.

“You wouldn’t dare!” Jungkook cried, hand over his chest in disbelief.

“Try me.”

Jungkook huffed while slumping down the stairs. Taehyung swore he heard the other man huffing about how he was just about ready anyways.

“Don’t make me out to be the bad guy! You want to see Bangtan just as much as I do!” Taehyung said on the way out of their shared apartment. “I know you’ve been dying to meet Namjoon. Don’t deny it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jungkook muttered, heat rising to his cheeks. “Let’s just get this show on the road so you can go meet the man who you have a shrine in your bedroom to.”

This time, it was Taehyung who let out a squawk.

“Excuse you!” Taehyung argued. “It is not a shrine! I just happen to have a lot of posters and pictures of the love of my life, Min Yoongi.” Taehyung let out a love-struck sigh.

Jungkook smiled and just shook his head. His best friend really was a piece of work.

The two friends made their way to the bus, thrumming with excitement at the chance to finally meet their favorite idols.

Arriving at the theater 30 minutes later, Taehyung could barely contain his excitement. In a few short minutes, he’d be in the same building as Min Yoongi. And not long after that, the same room, and entirely not soon enough, they’d be face to face.

Ever since Taehyung had stumbled upon Bangan’s pre-debut Soundcloud, he’d been in love. He’d loved everything from the beat of their songs to the flow of their raps to the meaning behind the lyrics. And when he’d first heard the low, gravely voice of one Min Yoongi, Taehyung knew that that rapper would be his bias and nothing could change his mind.

Jungkook and Taehyung made their way in the small theater, along with all the other lucky fans who had tickets to the fan meet, and found their seats. The pair were in the back, which meant they’d have to wait longer to meet their idols, but it meant they got to watch them interacting with fans and the other members, which was always a sight to see. Taehyung loved watching videos of fan meets because the members of Bangtan always showed such love to their fans. And of course it helped that sometimes they acted like idiots while on stage, always bringing a smile to Taehyung’s face.

Taehyung’s leg was bouncing with excitement and nervousness. While waiting for the meet to start, Taehyung and Jungkook talked with each other and made small talk with the fans around them, leaning that one girl had been to every single fan meet that Bangtan had (which Taehyung thought was a bit excessive, but he guessed if that’s how she wanted to spend her money, that was on her). 

The girl sitting on Jungkook’s side hadn’t been to a fan meet before like the two boys and was gushing about how she couldn’t wait to meet Namjoon. 

The small room, now packed to the brim with fans, had slowly gotten louder as the clock ticked closer to the start of the event.

A screech from the microphone rang out across the room, causing Taehyung to flinch. The room got eerily silent.

“Are you ready to meet Bantan?” a voice sounded from the speakers.

Taehyung and Jungkook, along with every other person in the room, screamed with excitement.

It’s finally happening! Taehyung thought. He felt like his heart might beat out of his chest. He didn’t know why he was so nervous. The members of Bangtan were just normal people, just like him. Yeah, except they’re insanely talented, and they’re super famous and super rich, Taehyung thought.

“Well here they are! Kim Namjoon, Min Yoongi, and Jung Hoseok!” the voice spoke again.

Before Taehyung could even think, the entire room was on their feet, cheering for the three men entering the stage, Taehyung right there with them, screaming his lungs out.

The first on stage was Kim Namjoon, leader of Bangtan. Taehyung knew pictures wouldn’t do the man justice, but still, he wasn’t prepared for how Namjoon looked in real life. The rapper smiled out at the crowd, and Taehyung just about swooned. Even though Namjoon wasn’t his bias, he could still write poems about the dimples that graced Namjoon’s face.

The next to enter the stage was Jung Hoseok, dance captain of Bangtan. Again, Taehyung was struck with how pretty the man was in real life. How had BigHit managed to find such attractive men to be in the same group? Hoseok looked at the crowd and waved, causing quite a few people in the crowd to squeal.

Finally, Min Yoongi entered the stage. The moment Taehyung’s eyes landed on the man, he felt his heart grow 10 sizes and burst. If he were in a cartoon, Taehyung knew he would have heart eyes. He couldn’t believe he was finally in the same room as Yoongi and actually looking at the rapper with his own eyes. Taehyung’s whole chest felt warm, and he felt the need to kiss Yoongi all over his face (but honestly, Taehyung always wanted to do that).

Just like the other members, nothing could have prepared Taehyung for what Yoongi looked like in real life. He was both hard lines and soft curves. Yoongi had on what Taehyung thought looked like the softest pastel sweater on the face of the earth. Yoongi had a serious look on his face, but once he looked out into the audience, his signature gummy smile took over his face. He looked like the softest boy on the planet and Taehyung just wanted to squish his cheeks. But, he knew if Yoongi was handed a mic, he would be throwing out hard raps that no one else could ever dream to perform.

“Thank you for coming to our fan meet!” Namjoon spoke into his microphone as he and the other two members took their seats at the table. The crowd cheered again. “We can’t wait to meet you all!”

The MC then took over and called the first row up to get in line.

The next hour passed way too quick and way too slow for Taehyung. He watched Namjoon listen intently to fans as they talked about how Namjoon’s lyrics help them get through tough times in their lives. He watched Hoseok get the brightest smile on his face when a fan told him she had named a star after him. He watched how Yoongi put on all the flower crowns and headbands that fans gave him and let them take pictures before moving on. He watched the three talk about a goof that happened during their last performance. And he watched them act crazy and silly, sometimes throwing things, like stuffed animals they were given, at each other, all with the biggest smiles on their faces.

Finally, the last row was called to get in line. Taehyung bounced on his toes, unable to believe he was finally here. Jungkook, who Taehyung almost forgot was here with him in all the excitement, squeezed his shoulder, looking just as excited.

Taehyung and Jungkook happened to be at the end of the line, so they had to wait a bit more. The line moved at a very slow but steady pace. Before Taehyung knew it, he was at the front of the line.

“Hi! What’s your name?” Namjoon asked, a smile taking over his face.

“Taehyung.”

“Well, Taehyung, it’s so nice to meet you!” Namjoon replied. “Did you have anything you wanted me to sign?”

“Oh, yes! Of course!” Taehyung quickly pulled his copy of Bangtan’s latest album out of his bag and handed it over. He was still in shock at being this close. He thought seeing Namjoon’s dimples from across the room was bad, but seeing them this close made him want to just reach over and poke them.

Namjoon quickly signed the album and handed it back.

“I just wanted to say, thank you so much for all you do,” Taehyung started while taking back the album. “I’ve been following Bangtan since before debut, and y’all’s music has helped me through so much. You all are really such amazing songwriters. You really know how to write lyrics that make a person think and feel.”

Namjoon’s cheeks were now dusted with pink.

“Thank you, but we really should be thanking you!” Namjoon replied. “Without fans like you, we wouldn’t get to do any of this, so thank you. We really appreciate it.”

Now it was Taehyung’s turn to blush. He looked down at his feet, trying and failing to keep the massive smile off his face.

“Next!” a voice called. Taehyung looked up, realizing it was time to move on.

“It was great meeting you, Taehyung!” Namjoon called while he moved on. “I hope we can meet again!”

Taehyung nodded and stopped in front of Hoseok.

“Hello!” Hoseok smiled cheerily, immediately putting Taehyung’s nerves at ease.

“Hi, I’m Taehyung!” he replied, shyly handing over his album.

“How are you doing today, Taehyung?” Hoseok asked while signing the album. “Are you having a fun time?”

“Oh, yes! It’s been great!” Taehyung nodded.

“Is it your first fan meet?”

“Yes! I’ve been a fan since before Bangtan debuted, but this was the first time I’ve been able to get tickets for a fan meet,” Taehyung replied.

Hoseok nodded and handed the album back over. 

“Well, I’m glad you could finally make it!” Hoseok smiled. “We really appreciate your support! I can’t believe you’ve been following us since before debut! That’s a long time!”

“It’s not that hard to support when y’all put out such amazing music,” Taehyung said.

“Well, I’m happy we got to meet!” Hoseok replied as the voice came back over the speaker and called for the line to continue moving.

Taehyung shyly waved bye and moved down the table. He didn’t dare look up yet. Yoongi was the last and most important and Taehyung felt like he might have a heart attack at seeing Min Yoongi this close.

Taehyung stopped in front of Yoongi’s spot and unzipped his bag, pulling out the gift he bought specifically for the other man.

“This is for you,” Taehyung said while shoving the gift forward, still afraid of looking up. He was afraid Yoongi wouldn’t like the gift.

“Aw, Yoongi got a Kumamon plushie!” Namjoon spoke, surprising Taehyung into looking up. The older man was draped over Yoongi’s shoulders. Taehyung quickly glanced down the line and realized that the line had ended, so Namjoon didn’t have a fan to talk with.

Taehyung finally looked at Yoongi, who had pink cheeks. Namjoon turned his head and realized the other man was blushing and reached to pinch his cheeks.

“Aw, look what you did, Taehyung! You made Min Yoongi blush!” Namjoon cried dramatically. 

Yoongi quickly pushed the younger man off his shoulders while grumbling about going back to his own seat and Taehyung swore he heard something about knowing where Namjoon slept.

Once Namjoon had made his way back to his own spot, Yoongi finally spoke.

“Thank you. I love it.”

“Really? I was nervous that maybe you already had enough Kumamon plushies from fans or that maybe you already had this one or maybe you wouldn’t like it,” Taehyung rambled.

Yoongi laughed and Taehyung felt his heart stop at hearing it in person. His laugh sounded so comforting, as odd as that sounded. The laugh sounded very loving and Taehyung would love to make him laugh again.

“Yes, I really love it,” Yoongi smiled. “I actually don’t think I have this specific one, so it’s perfect.”

“Oh, that’s great!” Taehyung smiled back, pink still dusting his cheeks from his earlier rambling. “Oh! I have my album for you to sign!” 

Taehyung quickly handed it over.

“I’m glad you got to come today, Taehyung,” Yoongi said while signing the album. “Meeting our fans is always so much fun, though it was probably more fun for you because you got to watch us act like idiots with each other up here on stage.”

Taehyung giggled, nodding along.

“Well, I’m glad I got to meet you, Taehyung. Maybe we’ll get to meet each other again some time!” Yoongi continued, handing Taehyung his album back.

“I really hope so,” the younger replied.

“Next!” the voice that Taehyung was starting to dread called. He stuck the album back into his bag and waved to Yoongi before turning toward the door. Taehyung’s cheeks hurt from smiling so much, but it was so worth it to finally meet Bangtan.

Taehyung made it out into the hallway and sat on one of the benches that lined the wall, waiting for Jungkook to join him. Since they were basically last in line, there weren’t too many people left hanging around, which Taehyung was glad for because he was still sure his face was pink from talking with Yoongi.

“We just met Bangtan!” Jungkook cried as he threw open the auditorium doors. “I can’t believe we just did that! And I talked with Namjoon! And you talked with Yoongi!” 

Taehyung stood up from the bench, a smile still stretching over his cheeks. The two made their way outside to the bus stop, catching each other up on what they talked about with each member.

By the time they reached their apartment, the two had shared their stories and were walking in comfortable silence as they made their way inside. Taehyung felt the happiest he had ever been. He had been stressed lately because of work, but he forgot all about those worries now. He felt like his life was complete now and his heart was full.

The next few weeks passed by with nothing special. Taehyung went to work everyday and came home and hung out with Jungkook. Now that he had met Yoongi and the rest of Bangtan, Taehyung felt like something in his life was missing. 

It’s probably all just in my head, Taehyung though. This isn’t some Y/N fanfiction. It’s not like I was going to attend the fan meet and have one of the members fall in love with me by just looking at me. Plus, they have soulmates out there somewhere. And so do I. Who knows when I’ll finally meet them, but they’re out there somewhere.

Taehyung had never really thought much about his soulmate. He knew he had one because everyone did, but he didn’t really think much past that. He figured when the time was right, the universe would put that person in his life and he would know exactly when it happened and he would be in love.

Growing up, it was impossible to go through life without hearing soulmate stories. People would talk about the moment they laid eyes on their significant other, the moment they knew they were in love. Most people said it was hard to explain what it felt like to find their soulmate, but that you would know when it happened to you. You would get this overwhelming love for this other person and you’d never want to let them go.

Taehyung couldn’t wait until that moment, but until then, he was content with going through life not worrying about it.

“Hey!” Jungkook called when he came home one night after work, a pizza box in tow. “Did you see that they finally published the pictures from when Bangtan left for their tour last week? I’m pretty sure Hoseok had to do a punishment based on the outfit he was wearing at the airport.”

“Oo! I wanna see!” Taehyung quickly pulled his phone out of his pocket and pulled up Twitter to look at the pictures. “Oh my god, I can’t believe he wore that to the airport. I would never be able to do that.”

“This is why we love them.”

“Because they’re huge dorks?” Taehyung raised his eyebrows. 

“No,” Jungkook laughed. “Okay, maybe. But also because they’re confident enough to do things like this. And they’re okay with looking like idiots sometimes if it makes their fans happy. And it made me happy.”

Taehyung just shook his head before grabbing a slice of pizza. The two spent their night watching crappy dramas on TV while finishing their pizza.

The next morning, Taehyung woke up feeling like he didn’t get any sleep, which he thought was odd because he had gone to bed at a decent time. Rubbing his eyes, he sat up and stretched his arms out. Today was going to be a long day if he felt this exhausted already. Maybe he could squeeze a nap in during his lunch break.

“Morning!” Jungkook chirped as he entered the kitchen. “Have a hard night?” 

Taehyung just grumbled into his large coffee cup. He was in no mood for Jungkook’s cheeriness this early in the morning. Taehyung despised morning people.

Jungkook shuffled around the kitchen, grabbing a cup of coffee and a bowl of cereal.

“Seriously, are you okay?” Jungkook asked once he plopped down in the chair across from Taehyung and finally got a good look at the other man. “You look like death. And I mean that in the nicest way possible. Did you stay up playing Overwatch without me last night or something?”

Taehyung shook his head.

“I don’t know what the problem is,” Taehyung started. “I went to bed at a decent time last night, but I woke up feeling like I didn’t get any sleep. Today is going to be hell. I have a presentation to give to the museum curator today, and I don’t think he’d appreciate it if I passed out during it.”

Taehyung brought the coffee cup back up and drank half the cup in one go. Maybe if he downed another cup of coffee before he left, he’d feel better by the time he got to work.

“Well, don’t push yourself too hard. Maybe you picked up a bug somewhere,” Jungkook reasoned. “Take it easy today and go to bed early tonight and maybe you’ll feel better in the morning.”

Taehyung just nodded, focused on drowning himself in coffee.

The day went just as Taehyung had predicted. Crappy. Taehyung had filled a thermos with coffee before he left for work and downed it on the bus ride to the museum. He had felt a little more awake by the time he made it in, but his head was starting to hurt. Taehyung worked all morning finalizing his presentation for that afternoon, but by the time that rolled around, he had a massive headache and couldn’t concentrate on his computer.

While giving the presentation, the curator actually stopped him to ask him if he was okay. Taehyung of course said he was fine and continued with the presentation. Luckily, after it was done, it was almost time to head home. On the bus ride home, Taehyung’s headache got worse, which he didn’t think was possible, and by the time he got off at his stop, his head felt like it was stuffed with cotton.

Okay, early bedtime it is.

Taehyung quickly made his way home and headed straight to the bathroom, where he quickly swallowed a few painkillers. Hopefully that would help with the stuffiness.

The rest of the night was spent lying around the apartment, and Taehyung kept true to his word and went to bed early.

Hopefully this will all go away and I’ll feel fine in the morning, Taehyung thought as he drifted off.

-

Yoongi’s alarm went off way too early for his liking. Touring was great and all, but dealing with time changes and constant traveling was hell on his body.

“Ugh,” Yoongi groaned, rolling over to slap at his phone to turn the constant blaring off.

As soon as the alarm was turned off, a knock sounded at the door. Of course. If it’s not one thing, it’s another.

Yoongi slowly made his way out of the hotel bed, grabbing a blanket to wrap around his shoulders before heading to the door.

“What?” Yoongi grumbled, throwing the door open.

“Good morning to you, too, sunshine,” grinned Hoseok. “I just came to wake you up before they started putting breakfast away. I know you like your sleep, but I know how grumpy you get when you miss out on a meal. And based off how you opened the door, I would say I was right on time, Mr. Grumpy Pants.”

“I hate you,” Yoongi replied with no real heat behind his words. “I’ll be down soon, just give me a minute to get changed.”

Hoseok nodded and turned on his heel, heading back down the hallway. Yoongi shut the door behind him, feeling a little more awake than he was when he opened the door. Hoseok really was like his portal battery.

Ten minutes later, Yoongi made his way into their private dining room at the hotel where breakfast was being served for the group and their staff. Making his way through the buffet line quickly, Yoongi spotted Namjoon and Hoseok easily as the room was almost empty because it was so late in the morning.

“Are you ready for the concert tonight, hyung?” Namjoon questioned once Yoongi sat down.

“Of course. Are you?” Yoongi shot back. Namjoon laughed and nodded the affirmative. Namjoon then turned to Hoseok and started up the conversation they were having before Yoongi arrived, and Yoongi turned toward his food. 

After taking the first bite, Yoongi suddenly felt nauseous. He quickly put his chopsticks down and grabbed a drink of water.

“Hyung? Is everything okay?” Hoseok asked, glancing over at the older man.

“Yeah,” Yoongi said, nodding his head. “I don’t know what happened. I thought I was hungry, but I just suddenly felt really nauseous. I don’t think I’m going to be able to eat anything. At least not right now.”

Namjoon leaned over and felt his forehead.

“You don’t feel warm. Are you feeling sick other than feeling nauseous?” Namjoon questioned, looking Yoongi over quickly to make sure there weren’t any noticeable signs that the other man wasn’t feeling well.

“I feel fine, other than that. I don’t know what the issue is. Maybe it’s the jet lag. Or just eating too close to waking up. I’ll be fine in a little bit,” Yoongi reassured. He didn’t know what the problem was, but he knew that he was going to do everything in his power to make sure he was better for their soundcheck and concert later. He couldn’t let their fans down. “I think I’m just going to go lay down for a bit. I’ll eat something before we head to the venue. Come get me before it’s time to leave?”

Namjoon and Hoseok just nodded, concerned for their friend, but unable to do anything for the other man. Letting him rest was their best option for now. Unfortunately, feeling sick on tour because of jet lag and exhaustion was common. Sleep and eating healthy were the only ways they had ever found to help combat them.

Yoongi quickly made his way back up to his room, falling asleep almost the second his head hit his pillow.

-

A week later and Taehyung woke up feeling like he had been hit by a bus. His body ached from head to toe, his head felt completely stopped up, and no matter how early he went to bed, he was always yawning.

Dragging himself to work had become a chore. The barista at the coffee shop a block from the museum had become his new best friend, already having his order prepared by the time he made it to the front of the line. After work, Taehyung used to play games or watch TV with Jungkook. Now, Taehyung felt like going straight to bed as soon as he walked in the door.

“Taehyung, I really think you need to go to the doctor,” Jungkook finally broke on Friday night. “I can’t just sit here and watch you like this. I know you’ve been getting enough sleep, so there has to be some other issue. I hate seeing you like this.”

The two roommates had been sitting on the couch, eating takeout and watching a crappy reality show on TV, like their normal Friday night. During a commercial break, Jungkook had finally broken the silence with his plea.

“I’m fine, Kookie,” Taehyung reassured. “It’s just a bug or something. Maybe a cold. I’ll be fine in a few days.”

“You are not fine!” Jungkook argued. “You’re tired all the time, even after you chug two cups of coffee, which is not healthy at all. You’ve complained about headaches every day this week, and it doesn’t seem like the painkillers are helping. You haven’t been eating as much, either, and I know it’s only been a week, but it looks like you’ve lost weight, and your complexion has become super pale.

“I just- I can’t sit here while it looks like you’re wasting away. I’m your best friend, Taehyung. I love you, and I don’t like watching you like this.”

Taehyung sighed, finally setting his plate on the coffee table and turning toward the other man.

“Go to the doctor, please,” Jungkook cut Taehyung off before he could say a word. “If it’s just the flu, then it’s the flu and we’ll know. I’d rather overreact about the flu than find out it’s something worse later on when you become more sick. Please, Taehyung, for me.”

Taehyung sighed. He knew there was no way he was getting out of this. Truth be told, he wouldn’t mind going to the doctor. He had actually been thinking about it before Jungkook had said anything. He really didn’t think it was the flu. He’s had the flu before and it didn’t feel anything like this. Taehyung felt like he was wasting away, like something big was missing in his life, and if he didn’t get it back, he’d turn to dust and blow away with the wind.

“Alright. I’ll make an appointment on Monday,” Taehyung agreed.

“Thank you,” Jungkook sighed in relief. “Now that we’ve covered that, can we please turn off this crappy show and talk about Bangtan? They’ve been on tour for over a week, and we haven’t discussed any of the photos or videos from the concerts!”

Taehyung’s heart skipped. He’d talk about Bangtan any day.

“Do you even have to ask?” Taehyung scoffed. “Get your laptop! We need to watch all the videos!”

Jungkook leapt off the couch and ran to his room to grab his laptop. 

“Here are some pictures from last night from someone I follow on Twitter,” Jungkook said, pulling up the photos.

The two spent the next twenty minutes scrolling through the photos and gushing over their favorites. 

“Does Yoongi look tired to you in these photos?” Taehyung pointed out after a couple of Yoongi pictures in a row. “It looks like he’s got bags under his eyes. It doesn’t look like even makeup can cover them up.”

“Maybe it’s just the lighting? Or maybe it’s just jet lag from traveling,” Jungkook reasoned.

Taehyung just shrugged, still a little worried about Yoongi. He may only be a fan to the rapper, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t care about his health.

The two then moved on to videos from the latest concert, which was the night before.

“Wait, go back a second,” Taehyung interjected a few videos in. Jungkook quickly complied. “Do you see that? He looks… I don’t know, but he doesn’t look okay. He looks like he’s going to be sick or something.”

Jungkook scrutinized the screen, playing the short clip over and over again.

“Yeah, I guess he does look kind of like that,” Jungkook said after a moment. “Like I said though, maybe it’s just jet lag. Or the lighting. Who knows? No use speculating though.”

Taehyung hummed in agreement, though he wasn’t so sure.

After another hour of scouring Twitter for photos and videos, Taehyung decided to finally head to bed. He still felt terrible, but hopefully he’d figure out what was wrong next week. As he drifted off to sleep, the video clip of Yoongi looking unwell played on repeat behind his eyes.

-

“Come on, Yoongi. We’re here,” Namjoon shook Yoongi’s shoulder, waking the older man up from his short nap. The group had just arrived at the venue for their concert. Yoongi didn’t really have any idea where they were, he just went where he was told. The past week, or he thinks it’s been a week, of touring had been crazy. From performing a show every night, traveling to different countries, visiting different TV shows to promote their album and concerts, and adding jet lag on top of that, Yoongi hadn’t been feeling the best.

The group headed inside the venue, making their way to the dressing room. Once inside, Yoongi plopped himself down on one of the couches, planning on making himself sink into the couch until he was required to be somewhere for soundcheck.

“How’re you feeling?” Hoseok sat down next to Yoongi, disrupting his plans of falling back asleep. “I know you like your sleep, but you’ve definitely been sleeping more than you normally do on tour. Maybe you should talk with our doctor. We’re worried about you.”

Yoongi groaned. He did not want to do this right now. Hoseok was right. Of course he was right. There was no denying that something besides jet lag was wrong with Yoongi, but he hoped if he put it off long enough, it’d go away on its own. But, if it was enough for his friends to actually say something to him about it, maybe it was serious.

“I’m okay, Hoseok,” Yoongi finally answered. “Maybe I’m just not as in shape or healthy as I normally am on tour. And there’s nothing wrong with sleep! Sleep is good for you!”

Hoseok just raised his eyebrows.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’ll talk with the doctor.” Hoseok’s eyes lit up. “After the concert.”

His smile dimmed slightly, but he would take what he could get. Yoongi was a stubborn man, and getting him to agree to talk with their physician on his own must really mean the older man wasn’t feeling the greatest.

“Good. We love you, Yoongi. We only want the best for you. Plus, it’s no fun calling you a cat if you're not around to hear it and complain," Hoseok teased. 

"I am not a cat," Yoongi grumbled. 

"See, there's my best friend," Hoseok smiled. 

"Alright, boys. Time for soundcheck!" a manager called, as he stuck his head in the room. 

The three members of Bangtan followed the man to the stage, grabbing their mics from a stagehand along the way. 

"We only need to go through a couple songs to get everything set, but you will need to do choreography so the techs can get an idea of how it sounds while moving around the stage," the manager instructed. 

Hoseok, Yoongi, and Namjoon all nodded, stepping up to their places for the first song. 

The moment the first beats flowed through Yoongi's in-ear pieces, he fell into what Hoseok called his "stage mode." It didn't matter that it was only soundcheck, Yoongi would give it his all. 

The three moved through the song flawlessly, hours of practice and other performances paying off. 

The second the song ended, Yoongi started gasping for breath. He leaned over and put his hands on his knees, trying to suck in as much air as possible to steady his racing heart. He knew he had been feeling like crap lately, but he didn't think one song would make him feel this bad. Maybe it was a good idea Hoseok had convinced him to see their physician. 

"Hey, you good?" Namjoon asked, placing a hand on Yoongi's back. 

Yoongi only nodded, still trying to catch his breath. A water bottle was suddenly thrust into his line of vision, which he gladly grabbed and chugged. 

"Maybe you should take it easy," Hoseok, who was now on his other side, suggested. "This is only soundcheck, after all. I know you'll want to go all out for the concert tonight, and you can't do that if you tire yourself out now." 

Namjoon hummed in agreement, rubbing his hand up and down Yoongi's back in comfort. He hated seeing his members and best friends sick. He was the leader and would fight for them to the ends of the earth, but there was only so much he could do about physical illnesses. 

"I'll be okay," Yoongi tried to reassure after finally catching his breath. "We've only got one more song to run through, and then I can sleep until the concert. And then I'll talk with our doctor after. I'll be okay." 

Hoseok and Namjoon looked like they wanted to argue, but the manager was calling for them to get set for the second song. Plus, they knew Yoongi was stubborn and that they wouldn't be able to change his mind. 

Yoongi stood up, threw the empty water bottle to the side, and went to his starting position, the other two following. 

The song started, and Yoongi still gave it his all. He was moving through the motions, albeit a little wobbly, but he was making it through.

See, I told them I was okay. 

As soon as that thought passed through his head, Yoongi stumbled, but luckily he caught himself before he fell completely. He continued the choreography, but quickly glanced around to see if anyone had noticed, which it didn't seem like they did. 

Yoongi's verse came up, and he moved to the center of the stage, glad that he could stop dancing for a moment while he rapped. He would never admit it, but spots had started dancing around his vision, which probably had been the cause of him stumbling.

By the time his verse was over, the spots had cleared, and Yoongi was grateful. He quickly moved back into the choreography, letting Hoseok take over the song. 

Of course, as soon as he thought he was in the clear, the spots returned. Yoongi chose to ignore them. The song was almost over and then he could go and sleep it off. That's all it was, right? He just needed a little more sleep and everything would be okay in time for the concert tonight. 

Famous last words, Yoongi thought as his vision turned darker and he stumbled again, this time making it all the way to the knees before catching himself. 

He barely registered the music stopping. He thought he heard someone call out his name, but he couldn't be too sure. He was too focused on trying to get his vision back to normal and keeping himself upright. It all became too much, and Yoongi finally gave in. 

Maybe Hoseok was right and I do need to get help sooner, was Yoongi’s last thought before giving in to the darkness.

-

"Bangan's Min Yoongi has collapsed during soundcheck before a show in England." 

" Taehyung! Get in here!" Jungkook called from the couch. He had been switching through channels and happened to land on the news when he saw a picture of Bangtan. 

"What? I was just about to go to bed," Taehyung grumbled, trudging into the living room, blanket wrapped around his shoulders. It was now Saturday night, and even though he had spent most of the day in bed, Taehyung was ready to get more sleep. 

"Look!" Jungkook pointed to the TV, where a picture of Yoongi was on the screen. 

Taehyung felt his heart lurch. 

"They said he collapsed at a soundcheck!" Jungkook recapped. "You were right when you said he looked tired." 

Taehyung then felt his heart fall to his stomach. 

Is Yoongi going to be okay? He has to okay! I can't live without him! Wait, what am I saying? I'm just a fan. We've met once. I'm not a crazed fan. He has his life, and I have mine. I'll be okay. He'll be okay. It'll all be okay. 

Sitting down on the couch next to his roommate, Taehyung stared at the TV, waiting for the news anchor to give more updates. 

"An ambulance was seen leaving the venue by fans, which prompted an outcry from fans online, demanding to know if the members of Bangtan were okay. 

"BigHit released a statement shortly after, stating Min Yoongi, the oldest in the group, had collapsed during soundcheck and that he was being treated at a nearby hospital. They did not give any indication as to his current status or what caused him to collapse. The concert for tonight has also been canceled.

"Fans from all over the world are now sending in messages of support for Yoongi, hoping the rapper recovers soon.

"This is a breaking news story; we'll keep you updated as we receive more information."

The room was silent as Jungkook muted the TV. Taehyung knew he shouldn't feel this upset about his favorite idol being sick, but he couldn't help it. He felt the need to hop on a plane and go and take care of the man himself. Which was obviously out of the question, and only something that an obsessed fan would do. 

"Hey, he's going to be okay," Jungkook tried to reassure. 

Taehyung just nodded, curling himself further into his blanket. 

"It's probably just exhaustion. You know he likes to work, and with them being on tour, it probably didn't help," Jungkook reasoned. "Hey, maybe it's a sympathy sickness. He knew his biggest fan wasn't feeling so great, so now he's feeling a little under the weather, too" 

Taehyung didn't laugh at Jungkook's attempt at a joke, but his lip did twitch. 

"I'm going to head to bed," Taehyung finally spoke up a few minutes later. 

Slowly dragging himself off the couch, Taehyung made his way toward his room, all but collapsing on his bed. 

The next morning, Jungkook woke up early and decided to make breakfast for him and Taehyung. He hoped he could cheer the other man up. First, he'd had a crappy week at work and had been feeling sick, and now Yoongi getting sick. It was just not Taehyung's week. 

"Taehyung, I made breakfast," Jungkook lightly knocked on the older man's door. 

Silence. 

"Tae Tae? Are you up?" Jungkook tried again. 

More silence. 

"I made your favorite! You can't stay in bed all day!"

Silence again. Now Jungkook was starting to get worried. Taehyung wasn't a super heavy sleeper, and usually knocking on his door would wake him up. 

"I'm coming in, so I hope you're decent," Jungkook tried one last time before slowly opening the door. 

All the lights were off, and the blinds were still closed. Jungkook could still make out a Taehyung-sized lump on the bed, covered in a mound of blankets. 

"Taehyung?" 

No answer. 

Jungkook walked to the bed and carefully put a hand on what he thought would be Taehyung's shoulder under all the blankets. He shook the man slightly, hoping to get a response now.

"Taehyung, it's time to wake up. I made breakfast."

Still no response. Not even a slight movement from under the blankets. 

"Taehyung, this isn't funny. Come on, wake up." 

Jungkook shook the man a little harder. There was no way he could still be asleep after all that. Jungkook's heart started racing. Something had to be wrong. Quickly, Jungkook started grabbing blankets and throwing them over his shoulder, not caring where they landed. 

Finally, Jungkook saw a fluffy head of hair peeking out from the final blanket. 

"Taehyung," Jungkook tried one last time, shaking his shoulder again. Still no response. 

Jungkook quickly pulled the last blanket down. Taehyung laid on his bed, eyes closed, unmoving. Looking over him, Jungkook didn't see any physical injuries that would cause him to be in this state. Luckily, he did see Taehyung’s chest moving up and down. 

Trying one last time, hoping that this was all some stupid prank or that he was still sleeping, Jungkook called his name and shook his shoulders, even tapping the older man's cheeks lightly to see if it would cause the man to stir. 

No response.

"Oh God, Taehyung. No, no, no. Please be okay. Please be okay." 

Jungkook quickly ran out of the room to grab his phone to call an ambulance. 

He has to be okay. He has to be okay. 

-

“What do you mean soulmate sickness? He’s never met his soulmate!” Namjoon argued with the doctor. 

After Yoongi collapsed on stage, he hadn’t woken up, so an ambulance was called. Namjoon, Hoseok, and one of their managers had been waiting at the hospital all night for the doctors to tell them what was happening with Yoongi. They hadn’t been told anything all night, not even if he had woken up.

“All the signs and symptoms point to soulmate sickness, I’m afraid,” the doctor repeated. “If he doesn’t know who his soulmate is, it will make it that much harder for him to get better, I’m afraid.”

“How long do we have to find his soulmate?” the manager spoke up. Namjoon’s vision blurred from tears he refused to let fall. How could he forget? If two soulmates weren’t reunited within a certain time period, then both would die.

“I’m afraid he’s probably only got about a week, based on his condition. Unfortunately, since soulmate sickness is different in everyone, we can’t be completely certain how long it will take,” the doctor replied. 

Namjoon fell into the cheap chair he’d been sitting in for the past eight hours. He heard a loud sob from the chair next to him.

Hoseok.

Namjoon quickly wrapped his arms around the other man, trying to hold his own tears back. He needed to keep it together for the both of them. At least long enough to finish hearing what the doctor had to say.

“What can we do?” the manager kept the conversation going, even though he looked like he was ready to be sick or cry or both.

“You need to find his soulmate. The closer they are together, the more time you’ll give him. I’d say it’s been a little over a month since he met his soulmate, so if that helps you by knowing where he was then. Once you’re able to find his soulmate, we can move either Yoongi or his soulmate, who is probably also in the same condition, to be with each other. Once they’re in close proximity, like the same room, they should start healing,” the doctor explained.

“Thank you, doctor,” the manager replied.

The next few moments passed in silence, barr Hoseok sobbing into Namjoon’s chest, while the manager pulled out his phone to look at Bangtan’s schedule. 

“The fan meeting!” the manager called out in surprise.

“What?” Namjoon asked, shocked.

Hoseok, curious, pulled himself away from Namjoon’s chest, wiping away his tears.

“The fan meeting!” the manager repeated. “It was a little over a month ago! That had to be where he met his soulmate. I don’t know how he didn’t realize it, but that had to have been it. You all weren’t really doing much around then, just a few interviews here and there. I can reach out to the people from the interviews to be sure, but I’m positive it had to have been from the fan meeting.”

Hope bloomed in Namjoon’s chest. They could do this. They would be able to find Yoongi’s soulmate, and he would be okay. He had to be.

-

“This has to be a prank. He hasn’t met his soulmate. There’s no way it could be soulmate sickness,” Jungkook argued.

“That’s what all the signs are pointing to, I’m afraid. Taehyung must have met his soulmate and not realized it,” the doctor replied. “If you can’t find his soulmate soon, there’s not much we can do. Based on the level of his symptoms, he’s probably got about a week left, give or take.”

A sob wracked it’s way out of Jungkook. No. There was no way he was going to let his best friend die.

“Based on that information, I would say that he met his soulmate a little over a month ago, if that helps you find his soulmate. Please let me know if I can help in any way,” the doctor tried to reassure. 

Jungkook kept his scoff inside as the doctor walked out of the room. Sitting down next to the bed where Taehyung laid lifeless, Jungkook felt a tear slide down his cheek.

“You can’t leave me, Taehyung. I won’t let you,” Jungkook said, grabbing the other man’s hand. “I’m going to find your soulmate. I don’t know how, but I promise you, I’m going to find them. I won’t let you die on me. You’re not allowed. You have to get better for your soulmate. And for me. And Min Yoongi. You have to live to see him in person again.”

Jungkook laughed dryly. 

Wait.

Min Yoongi.

The fan meet was a little over a month ago.

Yoongi also collapsed recently and the band had not said what was going on with him.

Bangtan had been on tour and had been far enough away from Taehyung that it would cause soulmate sickness.

Oh.

My.

God.

Taehyung’s soulmate was Min Yoongi.

It had to be. There was no other option.

“I hate you, you know that? You lucky bastard. You get Min Yoongi as your soulmate,” Jungkook spoke into the quiet hospital room. “Now how the hell am I going to get you two together?”

-

The next 24 hours passed in a blur for Namjoon and Hoseok. Yoongi was transferred to a hospital in Seoul, since that had to be where Yoongi’s soulmate was. They were reassured that once the two soulmates were in the same city, they would have a little more time to find each other, but it still wouldn’t be forever. 

Once they arrived back in Seoul, their tour on hold indefinitely for the time being, Namjoon and Hoseok quickly got to work. They obtained a list of everyone who bought tickets for the fan meet, along with any contact information they had given. Their manager also set to work reaching out to the few interviewers they had made contact with that week, but hadn’t had any luck.

“How are we supposed to know who his soulmate is? It could be anyone! And, if they’re in the same position as Yoongi, how would we even get ahold of them anyways?” Hoseok questioned, trying to not give up, but it was hard when there was such a bleak outlook.

“It’ll be okay,” Namjoon reassured the other man. “We’ll find his soulmate, and it’ll all be okay. We can do this.” 

Namjoon didn’t know if he was trying to reassure Hoseok or himself. He didn’t want to give up, he had to keep going for Yoongi, but it was hard like Hoseok said. They didn’t know everyone that had attended the fan meet, and plus, his soulmate would also be sick, so if they had collapsed like Yoongi, it would be that much harder to find them. And on top of that, they weren’t even sure if Yoongi’s soulmate was at the fan meet. For all they knew, he had passed by them on the street or on the subway. Seoul was a big city, afterall.

Namjoon and Hoseok got to work calling all the numbers they had available. They only stayed on the line for a few moments, mainly just to confirm the identity of the person and see if they were able to pick up the phone. They didn’t say who they were or who they were with, they not only didn’t have the time, they didn’t want any word getting out around why they were calling people.

Two hours and fifty phone calls later, no progress had been made.

“Ugh, this isn’t working,” Namjoon slammed his phone down on the table. So far, everyone had picked up the call and had sounded fine.

The rest of the afternoon was spent making phone calls, but Hoseok and Namjoon didn’t have any luck. They made a list of about ten people who hadn’t picked up with the intent to call them another time, but there was no guarantee that Yoongi’s soulmate was one of those people.

Realizing there was nothing further they could do at the moment, Namjoon and Hoseok went to the hospital, wanting to keep an eye on Yoongi. 

They both spent the night on the small chairs in the room, wanting to be there in case something happened. Namjoon woke with a crick in his neck, but he didn’t care.

That day was spent the same as before, Namjoon and Hoseok searching for Yoongi’s soulmate with no luck. At the end of the day, the two made their way back to the hospital. Yoongi’s complexion was slowly getting paler, and he was getting noticeably thinner. Namjoon didn’t like it.

The next morning, Namjoon decided he’d spend the day at the hospital, searching for Yoongi’s soulmate from there. 

Namjoon left the hospital, intent on grabbing his laptop and the fan meet attendee list from his studio and heading right back. He didn’t want to leave Yoongi for long.

Walking through the front doors of the building, a commotion at the reception desk caught his attention.

“Please, you have to help me,” a man pleaded. “My friend, he’s sick. He’s Min Yoongi’s soulmate. He’ll die if I don’t get him help. Please.” 

Could it be? 

Namjoon froze. This had to be it. No other explanation was possible (besides maybe a crazed fan), but based on the look on the man’s face, Namjoon believed he was telling the truth.

Running over before security could throw him out, Namjoon called out to the reception desk.

“He’s okay, let him be.”

The man looked over, and Namjoon could see tears running down his cheeks. He had dark purple bags under his eyes like he hadn’t slept in a week. Namjoon now fully believed the man was telling the truth. He couldn’t believe it.

“Follow me,” Namjoon waved him over, turning and heading toward his studio.

The man quickly followed.

“I’m Namjoon, but you probably already knew that,” Namjoon said, turning toward the other man after closing the door behind them in his studio.

“I’m Jungkook,” Jungkook said, nodding. “Please, you have to help me. My best friend is Yoongi’s soulmate, and he’s dying. I can’t watch him die.”

Namjoon gestured for the two to sit on the couch.

“Can you tell me why you think so?” Namjoon questioned, wanting to hear his story before making any rash decisions.

“Taehyung, my friend, and I attended Bangtan’s fan meet last month,” Jungkook started. “When y’all left for tour, Taehyung started to feel exhausted all the time and like he had a cold or flu or something. I didn’t put all this together until a few days ago, when I found him unresponsive in his bed.

“When the doctor at the hospital told me it was soulmate sickness, I happened to think about the fact that Yoongi had also collapsed, and when the doctor said Taehyung likely met his soulmate about a month ago, I realized the two must be soulmates. Everything matched up, including the distance and when y’all left.

“You all sure are hard to get ahold of,” Jungkook laughed wryly. “I’ve been trying for days, but everyone just thinks I’m a crazed fan or something. I promise, I’m telling the truth. God, you probably think I’m crazy or something. But I have to do something. Taehyung probably only has a few more days left. He’s started declining, and I couldn’t just sit there and watch.”

Jungkook rubbed his hands over his face, attempting to gather his thoughts. It had been a long few days, and finally, he had gotten ahold of someone at BigHit. And it was Kim Namjoon of all people.

“I believe you,” Namjoon spoke a moment later.

Jungkook’s head snapped up.

“You do?”

“Yes,” Namjoon reassured. “Yoongi also has soulmate sickness. We haven’t released that to the public, so unless you made a really, really lucky guess, you’re telling the truth. I believe you.”

Jungkook sagged into the couch, feeling like he could finally breathe for the first time all week.

“Okay, so what do we do now?” Jungkook asked. 

“Now, we get Taehyung and Yoongi to the same hospital and to the same room, and then hopefully, they get better.”

Moving Yoongi and Taehyung to the same hospital turned out to be an easy job. The hospital quickly moved Taehyung via ambulance to the hospital Yoongi was in. Not even two hours after Namjoon made the first call, Taehyung’s hospital bed was rolled into Yoongi’s room.

“This is him?” Hoseok asked, quickly standing up where he had been sitting vigil beside Yoongi’s bed. 

Namjoon and Jungkook followed behind the hospital staff pushing the bed.

“Yes, this is Yoongi’s soulmate, Kim Taehyung,” Namjoon replied. “Hoseok, meet Taehyung’s best friend, Jeon Jungkook.” 

The two bowed to each other, but quickly focused back on the hospital staff. Nurses were running around the room, getting Taehyung hooked up to the new machines, keeping the two hospital beds as close together as possible.

A few moments later, Yoongi’s doctor walked in.

“Hello, everyone. You must be Jungkook, Kim Taehyung’s friend? I’m Dr. Choi,” she said, turning to introduce herself to the Jungkook. “I’ve been treating Yoongi since he’s been here this week, and I will be taking over Taehyung’s treatment as well.

“Today is a good day, and to be frank, really good timing. If you hadn’t found each other within the next 24 hours, it might have been too late for either of them. But, none of that matters now because they’re both here.

“Treatment from here on out shouldn’t be too medical. Their bodies will recognize that their soulmate is near and start healing on their own. It shouldn’t take more than a few hours for them to wake up, and no more than 24 hours for them to fully recover. We’ll leave you all alone, but once they wake up, please let us know,” Dr. Choi finished.

She bowed and left the room, the nurses following behind.

“Oh my god,” Jungkook sighed in relief, plopping down in the chair next to Taehyung’s bed. “I can’t believe he’s going to be okay.”

“You can say that again,” Hoseok said, moving to the chair next to Yoongi’s bed.

The next few hours passed rather quickly for Jungkook, Hoseok, and Namjoon. The three spent the time getting to know each other, learning about each other’s lives, Jungkook talking about his job as a graphic designer, and Namjoon and Hoseok telling Jungkook about what being part of Bangtan was really like without all the cameras.

Jungkook hadn’t let go of Taehyung’s hand since he’d sat down, so when a finger moved, Jungkook felt it right away.

“Taehyung?” Jungkook squeezed the other man’s hand, cutting off Namjoon’s story about the time when he ruined his studio computer by tripping and spilling his coffee all over the desk. “Can you hear me?”

This time, a couple of Taehyung’s fingers moved, causing Jungkook to scoot his chair closer to the bed. 

“Come on, Taehyung, you can do it,” Jungkook urged.

Taehyung’s eyes started to slowly flutter open as he let out a small groan. Jungkook squeezed his hand again, afraid that what he was seeing wasn’t real. It had been a rollercoaster of emotions the last couple of days, and Jungkook never wanted to go through this again.

“What’s going on?” Taehyung slurred out. Luckily, Jungkook had heard enough of Taehyung’s just-woke-up voice to understand him easily.

“You’re in the hospital, Taehyung,” Jungkook replied.

Taehyung’s eyes slowly wided, finally looking around the room. When they landed on Namjoon and Hoseok sitting across from him, looking on earnestly, his eyes widened even more, which Jungkook didn’t think was possible.

“What?” Taehyung mumbled.

“You had soulmate sickness, Taehyung,” Jungkook explained. “You met your soulmate, and I found you passed out in your bed. You’ve been here ever since.”

“Soulmate sickness?” Taehyung asked, finally seeming to fully wake up. “But, I didn’t-”

“You did,” Jungkook interrupted, pointing to the other bed.

Taehyung turned, finally looking at the man in the other bed.

“That’s Min Yoongi. Oh my god, that’s Min Yoongi,” Taehyung whispered. “My soulmate is Min Yoongi?”

Taehyung turned back to his best friend, shock written all over his face. Jungkook grinned and nodded.

“You lucky bastard,” he replied, laughing. “You get Min fucking Yoongi as your soulmate. Which, maybe you don’t deserve because you didn’t even know you’d met him! And, if you ever do this to me again, I’m going to kill you myself!” 

Jungkook tried to keep his tone light, but the last few days had been weighing heavily on him. He’d had to watch his best friend almost die.

Taehyung opened his arms for a hug and Jungkook threw himself on the bed.

“It’s too early, why is it so loud in here?” a grumbly voice came from the other bed.

“Oh my god, Yoongi!” Hoseok screeched, jumping out of his chair. 

Jungkook pulled himself off Taehyung slightly, still holding on to his best friend, but helped him sit up so he could see Yoongi waking up.

“Hoseok? Why are you here? Wait, where is here?” Yoongi asked, finally opening his eyes and looking around the room.

“You had soulmate sickness,” Namjoon explained, then going on to explain how Taehyung was Yoongi’s soulmate and how they found each other.

“So, you’re my soulmate, huh?” Yoongi asked, looking over at the other bed.

Taehyung blushed and nodded. He really couldn’t believe it. Maybe his life really was a Y/N fanfiction.

“So, how exactly did this happen? I thought it was easy to tell when you met your soulmate?” Yoongi questioned. 

“I actually have a theory for that,” Jungkook spoke up, still attached to Taehyung on his bed. “Since Taehyung was already a big fan of Bangtan and of you, Yoongi, when you two met, it didn’t really change much for him.”

“Way to make me sound like a crazed fan, Jungkook,” Taehyung interrupted. 

“I think it’s cute,” Yoongi said. 

Taehyung felt himself blush again. If this is what it was going to be like when he was around Yoongi, his face was going to be permanently red for the rest of his life. But, maybe he was okay with that.

“But what about Yoongi?” Namjoon asked.

“I actually had some trouble with that,” Jungkook replied. “Once I realized it was probably Yoongi, I went back and looked at videos from the fan meet. When Yoongi first saw Taehyung, Namjoon came up behind him and said something, so I guess in all the excitement of the day and whatever was said, you must not have registered the feeling, Yoongi.”

“So this is all your fault, Namjoon,” Hoseok teased, lightly slapping the other boy on the shoulder. Namjoon looked at his hands sheepishly.

“It’s okay, Joonie,” Yoongi reassured. “It’s all okay now, and I have my soulmate, and we’re all going to be okay now.”

Yoongi reached across the bed for Taehyung’s hand, which he gratefully took.

“I’m going to go get the doctor,” Namjoon said, standing up. “She said to let her know when you both woke up. Jungkook, Hoseok, why don’t you come with me?”

Jungkook seemed reluctant to leave Taehyung, but he knew Namjoon was trying to give the two new soulmates a few minutes alone to get to know each other. The three made their way out of the room, the door clicking softly shut behind them.

“So, soulmates, huh?” Yoongi spoke first. 

“Looks like it,” Taehyung replied. “I feel really weird since I was a fan before.”

Yoongi hummed in acknowledgment.

“How about we start over?” Yoongi suggested. “I obviously know nothing about you yet, and what you might know about me as a fan doesn’t even scratch the surface of who I am.” 

“How do we do that?” Taehyung asked, confused.

“Hi, my name is Min Yoongi, and it looks like you’re my soulmate,” Yoongi said, pulling his hand away from Taehyung’s, just to lift it, ready to shake the other’s hand.

Taehyung giggled, but shook Yoongi’s hand.

“I’m Kim Taehyung, and you’re my soulmate,” Taehyung replied.

“Nice to meet you, Taehyung,” Yoongi grinned. “Tell me about yourself, soulmate. My life is boring. I’m just a songwriter and rapper, nothing too interesting. I want to hear all about your life.”

Taehyung laughed, heart swooping at the word soulmate. He started telling the other man about his job at the museum and his life, Yoongi listening intently.

Neither knew what would happen once they left the hospital, but they were content to know they had found each other. They survived soulmate sickness; whatever life decided to throw at them next, they knew they could handle it since they had each other.

I had to make the end super cheesy. No other option, sorry. Let me know what you all think!! I spent way too long on this fic, but I’m really happy with it! Also, if you have a prompt for a fic or social media au, let me know! I now have no works in progress, so I’d love to work on something else! :)

[howaminotinthestrokesyet]

Where Have They Gone Now: Izzy Stradlin

Born Jeffrey Dean Isbell, the future guitar player for Guns N’ Roses was born and grew up in Lafayette, Indiana. He always held a fondness for the small-town life in Indiana. “It was cool growing up there. There's a courthouse and a college, a river and railroad tracks. It's a small town, so there wasn't much to do. We rode bikes, smoked pot, got into trouble—it was pretty Beavis and Butt-Head actually." His first instrument turned out to be the drums because his paternal grandmother played in a swing jazz band. Izzy started his first band in high school with a group of friends including a young man named William Bailey, who later became Axl Rose. Stradlin would later recall his first impression of Rose. “We were long-haired guys in high school. You were either a jock or a stoner. We weren't jocks, so we ended up hanging out together. We'd play covers in the garage. There were no clubs to play at, so we never made it out of the garage." He would go on to actually become the only member of GNR to graduate high school with a D average. Upon graduation, the future rhythm guitarist moved to Los Angeles in 1980.

Upon his arrival in LA, Stradlin joined the group, Naughty Women. During their first show, audience members began assaulting the band as they played. Izzy would later recall the incident. “I just grabbed a cymbal stand and stood on the side trying to fend them off, yelling, 'Get the fuck away from me, man!' That was my introduction to the rock scene in L.A." After two months, he left Naughty Women to join the punk band, The Atoms, which was short lived. During his time in that group, his drum kit was stolen, so Stradlin switched to the bass guitar. In 1983, he joined with Axl Rose to form the group, Hollywood Rose. They would go on to record a five song demo, but they eventually disbanded. He had a short stint with Sunset Strip local favorite London before reuniting with Hollywood Rose. In March 1985, they added more members to Hollywood Rose to become Guns N’ Roses.

As Guns N’ Roses began work on a first album, Stradlin emerged as the key songwriter for the album, Appetite For Destruction. He held a co-writer credit for almost every track on the album. At the time, this might have surprised some people as Izzy had garnered the reputation as a go to guy for really good heroin. He had become quite the addict himself as well. Yet, the guitarist was still able to function as a member of Guns N’ Roses at a very high level. In the band’s follow up EP, Lies, Stradlin also contributed by helping to write the track, “Patience.” Yet, the good times quickly went bad for the guitarist, when he was given probation for a year for urinating in the aisle of an airplane. This led him to making the decision to get sober going home to Indiana to detox from drugs and alcohol. Upon his return to the band, things were not quite the same. In 1991, Guns N’ Roses released Use Your Illusion I and II. The group was probably at the height of its fame during this time. Stradlin shocked the music world when following its release, he quit the band. His last performance with the band was in late August of that year at Wembley Stadium. He received songwriting credits for 10 songs on the new albums. In interviews, he would go on to say that he did not want to deal with the band drama any longer, but more specifically the antics of one Axl Rose. Another issue was the fact that other band members were trying to pay him less in royalties. “Once I quit drugs, I couldn't help looking around and asking myself, 'Is this all there is?' I was just tired of it; I needed to get out."

Following his surprising exit from Guns N’ Roses, Izzy Stradlin returned to his home town of Lafayette, Indiana. It was here that he began writing and recording new music. He formed the band Izzy Stradlin and the Juju Hounds, which included members of the Georgia Satellites and Broken Homes. Their first album, self titled, was released in October 1992. In the Rolling Stone review, they said it was a “thoroughly winning solo debut.” The band played their first show at the Avalon in Chicago that September. In May 1993, Stradlin would return to Guns n’ Roses to fill in for his replacement, Gilby Clark, who had an injured wrist. After that ended, Stradlin returned to the Juju Hounds for a tour of Japan. He would then take time off from any music-related projects.

In 1995, the guitarist began working on material for a new solo album. The album would not be released until 1998. Duff McKagan formerly of Guns N’ Roses played on the album. Much like his album with the Juju Hounds, Stradlin did absolutely nothing to promote the album. He would not do any interviews, no tour, and for the most part tried as hard as he could to stay out of the public eye. This was his last album with Geffen, as they dropped him from the label because he did not sell very many records. In December 1999, Stradlin released his third solo album, Ride on on the Universal Victor label. This time he would actually play four live shows to promote the album. Stradlin and his band would go on to record two additional albums, River in 2001, and On Down the Road in 2002. The latter album was a Japan only release. Around that time, he was asked by former bandmates, Duff McKagan, Slash, and Matt Sorum to join the supergroup Velvet Revolver. In the end, he decided not to join because of his dislike for life on the road and collaborating with a lead singer. Though, he did contribute to some early songs.

In the next few years, Stradlin turned out to be quite prolific in the release of new material. He released solo albums in 2005, 2007, 2008, and 2009. In 2012, Izzy was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame as part of Guns N’ Roses. He released a statement thanking various people, but did not attend the induction ceremony. Stradlin would join Guns N’ Roses for a few shows later that year, but the guitarist ultimately decided not to return full-time. One of the sticking points was salary for the concerts not being split equally. He might have been offered guest appearances, but he would have declined those as well. Since then, Stradlin has only released a few singles and played guitar on a John Mellencamp album in 2017.

Izzy Stradlin is one of the most unique stories in the history of rock and roll music. Here is a guy, who walked away from fame, money, adulation, and did not think twice about it. He still lives in Lafayette, Indiana remaining a bit of a recluse to this day. The only time you hear from him is upon the release of any new music. Yet, it is interesting because you never hear him, but instead the only time you hear him talk at all is probably in his lyrics. In 2016, people did make a big deal out of the fact that he had joined Twitter. Stradlin has since deleted that account. The guitarist felt that the royalties he would earn for the rest of his life because of one album was good enough for him. Over the years, people had said that he was the coolest dude they have ever met in their entire life. Nothing ever phased him at all. I would say that is fairly accurate. Izzy Stradlin walked away from Guns N’ Roses and didn’t give a fuck what anybody thought about it.

[theydontknowaboutusimagines]

Someone Special - Harry Styles Christmas Series (Part 12)

Part 11

Next Christmas - 2020

Not only was Christmas rolling around again, but so was your and Harry’s first anniversary. The last year together had been something you never experienced before. You were the happiest you had ever been and the two of you had fallen even more in love. You two had become the other’s best friend. Of course, not everything was picture perfect, especially when Harry was on his Love on Tour- Tour. 

There were some really low moments and some words that had been said, but somehow in the end you two made it work. Just like Ellie had said, when you found your person everything would work itself out and be worth it. After you showed up at the Live Lounge recording and again at Harry’s Secret Show in London, the entire world knew of your relationship. But neither of you really cared, you still made sure to keep it as private as you could, but you two never shied away from being seen supporting the other. 

The album you had been working on was released a few months ago and debuted at #1 and stayed on top for many weeks. That album meant a lot to you because it was about some of your lowest lows, but eventually you found your way and your person. You even wrote a small dedication for Harry, not really naming him, but he knew it was about him. 

Since this Christmas was your anniversary, you and Harry had rented out a cabin in the mountains for both your families to have Christmas together and the two of you went up a few days before to have time for yourselves. Before leaving for the holiday, you two made sure to once again give out the presents at the Children’s hospital as well as some of your other “traditions” you had started last year. 

It was the last night before everyone would arrive the next morning and you and Harry sat in front of the fireplace as Christmas music played in the background. You both were sipping on hot chocolate with whipped cream and tons of cinnamon. Over the last year, Harry had really grown to love adding cinnamon to his hot chocolate. Harry was sat up with his arms around you as you leaned into him. 

“Can you believe we’ve officially been together a year?” you asked. 

“No,” he said. “It feels much longer.” 

“Is that a good or a bad thing?” You giggled. 

“Both,” he smirked kissing your head. 

“So, I’ve got some news for you,” you said. 

“Oh, do tell,” he said. 

“Mom said we can teach you the recipe for the Christmas Cookies,” you smirked. “So, that next year you’ll be in charge of baking them on Christmas Eve and she can be the one to sip hot chocolate and watch Hallmark movies.” 

“I feel so honored,” he laughed. “Mum is looking forward to those cookies. She ate nearly the entire tin I brought last year.” 

“What I can say? My family makes some bomb ass cookies,” you smirked. 

“Yeah, if we’re being honest, I didn’t really fall in love with you until I ate them,” he smirked. 

“Yeah, okay,” you laughed. “Whatever you say.” 

“It’s true,” he said. 

“Okay, we’ll go with that,” you said. “Oh! Before I forget... I’ve got a little something for you.” 

“Hold on, now, I thought we both agreed on not exchanging presents until on Christmas,” he said. 

“I know, I know,” you said. “But this one can’t wait.” 

“Fine, fine, bring it here,” he said. 

You smiled grabbing the small wrapped box from under the tree and handing to him. He gave you a look before ripping at the red wrapping paper. He lifted the top of the box, revealing none other than a bushel of mistletoe. 

“Regifting?” He raised an eyebrow. 

“More like partaking in tradition,” you said. “Unless, you’d rather not.” 

“Oh, I rather would,” he smirked holding the mistletoe over his head. 

You smirked pressing your lips against his. 

**

When the two of you were finished, he held you in his arms as you smiled. 

“Yeah, I’m starting to think that is my favorite tradition,” he smirked. “So, glad I came up with it.” 

You laughed, “Me too. You better not forget next year.”

“Oh, trust me, I could never,” he laughed holding you closer to him. “And good call on giving me this tonight instead of when our families were here. This could have gotten pretty fucking awkward.” 

“Yeah, I don’t think our families would have enjoyed you shouting fucking hell at the top of your lungs,” you smirked. 

“And I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t have enjoyed you moaning harder at the top of your lungs either,” he smirked. 

“Touche,” you giggled. 

“You know this is the first time I’ve ever spent Christmas with not only a girlfriend, but both of our families together,” he whispered playing with your hair. 

“Well, aren’t I special,” you smirked. 

“Just a bit,” he laughed. “I’m happy we came up with this idea though, I didn’t want to have another Christmas without you.” 

“Gosh, you’re so needy,” you joked. 

“It’s because I love you sooooo much,” he smirked. 

“Yeah, I guess I love you, too,” you smirked. 

“You’re so mean to me,” he pouted. 

“You didn’t think I was so mean a few minutes ago,” you said poking his nose with your finger. 

He scrunched up his nose with a laugh looking up at you. 

**

It was the next day and your families had arrived shortly after one another to the cabin. Most everyone had already met before, so it was more of catching up with everyone than introducing. Harry was in the kitchen with you and your mother as the two of you prepared the famous Christmas Cookies. 

Anne was sitting at the counter sipping on a glass of wine as she watched. 

“Mum’s only here so she gets first dibs on the cookies,” Harry smirked. 

“I am not,” she defended. “I’m having a chat with Y/N and her mother.” 

“And what I’m just here?” He asked. 

“Pretty much,” she said taking a sip from her glass. 

“Ooh, burn,” you joked. 

“Fuck you,” Harry joked. 

“Harry Edward Styles, language!” Anne gasped. 

“Hey! I’m my mother’s son,” he smirked pointing at her causing everyone to laugh. 

“Anyway, thank you so much, Y/Mom’s/Name for teaching me the recipe,” he smiled. 

“You’re welcome,” she smiled. “And just so you know, the only people taught this recipe are members of the family.” 

“So, are you saying I’m a member of the family?” He asked. 

“You’ve made my daughter very happy and I know how much you love her, so yes, I consider you a member of our family,” she smiled. 

Harry smiled wrapped his arms around your mom in a huge hug. You smiled taking a picture. 

“Thank you,” he smiled. 

“And Y/N, I hope you know you’re apart of ours as well,” Anne smiled. “For the very same reasons.” 

“Are we just having a big cheesy family moment?” You laughed. 

“I think we are,” Anne laughed wrapping her arm around your shoulders. 

“Group hug!” Harry smirked opening his arms. 

Later that night, after dinner, you and Harry had gotten roped into kicking off the Christmas Carol sing- along. You sat at the piano with Harry, who started playing the notes for “Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas.” 

“Have yourself a merry little Christmas, let your heart be light. From now on, our troubles will be out of sight,” you sang softly swaying to the music. 

“Have yourself a merry little Christmas, make the yuletide gay. From now on, our troubles will be miles away,” Harry sang. 

The two of you joined in together, “Here are as in olden days, happy golden days of yore.” 

You both smiled as you sang the rest of the song, your families joining in as well. However, when it came to the highest note of the song, they all let you take it. Harry let out a playful cheer with a smirk on his face as you sang it. 

“And have yourself a merry little Christmas, now,” you and Harry ended the song together. 

You smiled kissing his cheek while everyone clapped. The rest of the night you all sang different songs, having the best time and stuffing your faces with the famous Christmas Cookies. 

**

Christmas Day was even better. Breakfast was amazing thanks to your mother and Anne. Opening presents was a blast because in your family its tradition to always over tape the boxes, so it took forever for them to open it. Harry and his family seemed to enjoy watching it quite a lot, especially when Harry tried opening his gifts and ended up ripping the box itself. 

After Christmas lunch, everyone sat down to play different games, something Harry was very competitive at. Then you all went out into the snow for a little snowball fight. Harry kept aiming his snowballs right at you, so you decided to chase after him and knock him down to the ground shoving snow in his face. 

He laughed rolling around in the snow with you before pressing his lips to yours.   Once everyone needed to warm up, it was time to make another batch of the Christmas cookies and watch some Christmas movies before sitting down for Christmas dinner. When dinner was over, everyone did their part in cleaning up, and sort of went there own ways for a bit. 

Some where checking out their new presents, others had gone to their rooms to change, others sat chatting in the kitchen. You and Harry had opted for going on a walk in the snow. Moonlight shone onto the white snow making it appear as those you two were walking on glitter. You still had one more gift to give Harry, one he didn’t know about it. 

You had been thinking about it all day and when the perfect time to give it to him would be. You knew you didn’t want to give to him in front of everyone else,  so you thought about giving it to him right before bed. However, when he had asked you to join him for a walk outside, you grabbed it, putting it into your pocket and following him outside. 

Snow started falling again and you felt as though you were in a snow globe. Feeling the box in your pocket, you bit your lip wondering what his reaction to the gift would be. You weren’t sure if it was something he would want or even like, but you would be finding out anytime now. 

“Harry,” you whispered. 

“Yeah, baby?” He asked looking over at you, squeezing your hand. 

“I have something else to give you,” you told him. 

“Another gift?” He asked. 

You nodded. 

“Well, I actually have something else to give you, too,” he smiled. 

“Really?” You asked. 

He nodded,”But you can go first,” he said. 

“Are you sure?” you asked. 

“Yes,” he said. 

“Okay,” you said taking the box out of your pocket. 

The two of you sat down at bench in the yard as you handed it to him. 

“How-How did that fit in your pocket,” he laughed. 

“They’re deeper than you think,” you laughed. 

Harry smirked at you. 

“Quiet! Don’t say anything,” you said. 

“I wasn’t,” he joked. 

“Anyway open it,” you told him. 

He carefully ripped open the paper to reveal a wooden box. He opened the lid to where there three beautiful velvet red and white stockings inside. Two of them were larger, while the third was smaller version. Harry looked confused before noticing something underneath the stockings. He placed the stockings to the side, seeing something that looked a lot like a pregnancy test. You held your breath as you watched him take it into his hands. 

He swallowed looking over at you, “Is this-are you-are we-” he whispered. 

You nodded, “I’m pregnant,” you whispered. 

“You-you-re pregnant,” he said. “With a baby, my-our baby?” 

You bit your lip, nodding again. 

“Oh fuck,” he whispered. “Bloody hell.” 

He got up from the bench setting the box down next to you. You felt your heart drop thinking he was about to leave, but the next thing you knew he was kneeling down in front of you. 

“W-what are you doing?” You asked. 

“Giving you your present,” he said. 

“H-” you said. 

“Wait! I promise, I’m not changing the subject, just give me one second,” he said. 

You nodded looking down at him as he pulled a small box from his coat pocket. After he handed it to you, you unwrapped it to revel a black, velvet box. Opening it up, you see the most beautiful diamond ring staring back at you, “W-what?” You whispered looking at him. 

“Y/N, baby,” he whispered. “I love you. I’ve loved you since the moment I saw you. I didn’t know it then obviously, but looking back I knew there was something special about you. Falling in love with you was the best thing I’ve ever done and this last year as been the best year of my life. I knew before coming out here that I wanted to marry you. I knew I wanted to ask you on Christmas night as the snow fell, but I what I didn’t know was that you were going to tell me we’re having a baby. I can’t tell you how fucking excited I am or how much I love you, but I can tell you that nothing would make me happier than you becoming my wife.” 

“I-fucking wow,” you sniffled. “I was not expecting this, but yes, yes, I love you. I want to be with you. Let’s get fucking married!” 

He laughed slipping the ring on your finger before taking you in his arms and pressing his lips against yours. He held your face in his hands as he kissed you before pulling away, looking into your eyes. 

“We’re really having a baby?” He whispered. 

You nodded, “Yeah, we are,” you sniffled. “Are you happy?” 

“So, fucking happy,” he smiled pecking your lips. “I’ll admit, I’m terrified and shocked as hell, but I know, I know together it’s going to be okay. God, I can’t believe this.” 

He knelt down placing his hands onto your belly over your jacket, “Wow, our baby’s really inside of there, huh?” He whispered. 

“Yep,” you giggled. 

“Hi, baby,” he whispered. “It’s Daddy. Your Mummy just told me about you and I want you to know I already fucking love you so much and I can’t wait to hold you in my arms.” 

Harry then stood up taking your hands into his, “I love you,” he whispered. 

“And I love you,” you smiled. “Do you think we should tell our families our news?”

“Hm, maybe we should wait until tomorrow,” he said. “I want to take some time to let it all sink in first.” 

You nodded wrapping your arms around his shoulders. 

“Now, I’ve got something else to ask you,” Harry said after a bit. 

“What’s that?” You asked. 

“You said last Christmas was your best Christmas yet,” he said. “So, what would you rank this Christmas?” 

You smiled looking up at him, “Let’s just say that every Christmas I get to spend with you will always be my best and most favorite Christmas because you are without a doubt, my someone special.” 

Harry smiled widely before bringing his lips down to meet yours as the snow started falling harder all around you. 

**

THE END!!! I hope you all enjoyed and loved this series as much as I did! I had so much fun writing it and looked forward to writing it everyday! I really am going to miss this, so I’ve decided to add one more part! 

There will be a 2020 New Year’s Eve Epilogue posted next week! So make sure to be on the lookout! :) 

[littlejeanniebean]

Ep. 3 | The Marauders: Riddle Records

A/N: “Come to the dark side. We have a solo career.” - Tom Riddle Jr., probably. On a lighter note, I can just see them backstage like this by the lovely artist @theimpossiblefifth​. Read on AO3 :) Enjoy! - J xx

One look in your eyes

I can read your mind

 You're naughty, my type

Care for a good time?

You could be just like all your high society friends at high tea

You could get with a football player

But there’s nothing like a shot of adrenaline in the morning

You know you want a dragon slayer

“Like me,” James mouthed seductively to the camera and winked.

“I’m Alice Fortescue, these wonderful lads are The Marauders, thank you for joining us this Saturday Night Live!” the actress grinned widely as the camera backed away.

The boys all gathered around her in a group hug.

“Holy shit! That was incredible!” Obviously, this was Sirius speaking.

“You were wonderful, honey,” a low voice whispered.

A smiling man with sweet eyes and a mop of dark hair put his arms around Alice.

“Oh, everyone, this is my boyfriend, Frank!” the bubbly actress grinned widely, “He’s a photographer for GQ.”

“Sick!” James shook his hand.

“Nice to meet you, Frank; lovely working with you, Alice; hope you’ll both come to one of our shows sometime, ta-ta!” Sirius practically dragged the band away before anyone could say anything more.

“What was that?” Remus tutted at his boyfriend.

“Yeah, ta-ta?” the bespectacled boy wiggled his nose to adjust his glasses that had gone askew, “Who says that?”

“Not what I meant,” the pale, mousy-haired boy shrugged off his suit jacket in their shared dressing room.

“Look, I’ll explain later!” Sirius pleaded, “Just hurry up and let’s get the hell -”

“Yoo-hoo! Siri!” a warbling, high-pitched voice giggled on the other side of the door, “This is their room here, Tommy...”

“Christ,” the dark-haired boy covered his face with his hands. 

“We’ll deal with Bella,” James set his jaw and turned to the other two, “Ready?”

Remus and Peter rolled up their dress shirt sleeves and nodded.

The trio filed out of the dressing room, forcing Bella Black and her friend backward, and immediately shut the door behind them.

“He doesn’t want to see you or any of your family again, Bella,” said James sternly, giving the show's new cameraman the stink-eye for good measure. 

Bella stuck her tongue out childishly. 

Her guest grimaced and offered his hand to the boys, “I’m sorry about her. She overheard I was interested in speaking with you young talents and… well, it got a bit out of hand. I’m Tom Riddle, of Riddle Records.” 

Really, the man with chiseled features and dark slicked back hair wasn’t much older than they were. But he was dressed more expensively than they could ever be comfortable with, even with the fresh success of their debut album.

“You’re Senior’s kid,” James nodded, his mother being an agent in the industry. He noted just the smallest flinch at the mention of the man's father. “With all due respect, we already have a label.”

“A label that has you locked into a contract as a group,” Tom gave them each his card and presented James with another one for Sirius, “We would pay any fees associated with breaking your current contract, then we would launch your solo careers - James as the pop prince, Sirius as the rock and roll bad boy, Remus as the R&B god, and Peter as the jazz legend!”

“We’re better musicians together,” said Remus.

Tom leaned in, “Your success now, quadrupled. Plus the potential for high-engagement collaborations among you. The freedom to create in your own style on top of that. Imagine it. And give me a call.”

"Ta-ta," Bella blew them each a kiss in a way that could only be described as menacing. When they were out of the boys' earshot she simpered, "You're such a clever businessman, Tommy."

"Don't call me that," he yanked his arm away and pressed his phone to his ear irritably, "I found us some new business and laid the groundwork. Can I have my allowance now?" 

The Marauders flew back to Scotland that night and rehearsed for months until they were ready to drop before flying back to LA for Night One. 

“Nervous?” Sirius whispered while they waited for their opening act, DJ Dedalus Diggle, to finish his set.

“Why would you ask me that?” James huffed, adjusting his bright red tie for the umpteenth time. 

“You need more glitter,” Molly patted his cheekbones lightly with her pointer finger, which was covered in the golden stuff.

“Five minutes, boys!”

“Thanks, Arthur!” Remus spoke for them all.

“We’ve got this, Jimbo!” Peter bounced excitedly on his heels.

“Easy for you to say. You’ve been performing at recitals since you were big enough to reach the keys from the bench.”

“The jitters never get old,” his baby-faced friend told him, “but we’re all going out there. And with everything we do together, we always have fun.”

James nodded to himself and made sure to check on their drummer for the tour, “You good, Kingsley?”

The man in a rose-red disco suit twirled the sticks deftly in his hands, “Let’s do this.”

“... and now, Los Angeles,” Diggle hyped the crowd, “give it up… for The Marauders!”

The lights went up and the boys looked out at the incredibly emotional fans who’d come to see them.

“Right,” James whispered, reaching for the microphone with shaking hands, “A-one, two, three.”

I don’t have a lot of time

I’m running for my dear life

Can’t breathe without you by

Aye aye aye

It’s a full house

But I’ll seek you out

It’s a wild crowd

But I’ll seek you out

I don’t know how

But I’ll seek you out

James couldn’t help grinning ear to ear as Sirius broke out into his guitar solo.

Remus pointed out a sign that said, “Marry me, James Potter!”

The lead singer laughed and spoke into his mic, “Well, will you buy me dinner first, at least?” 

The girl promptly fainted.

Arthur was by her side immediately to make sure she was alright.

“Oh, dear, you’ve hit your head,” Molly crouched down beside him and handed the young girl an ice pack.

The red-headed manager got his first good look at the videographer and her multi-pocketed fishing vest and cargo pants.

She noticed him staring, “I’ve known these boys a long time. You never know what you’re going to need.”

“Good advice,” he helped her and the fan back up in one go, “I’m Arthur.”

“Molly,” she grinned, hoisting her camera back onto her capable shoulders and focused back in on James.

Under your spell, I like how you play it

Keeping it cool is so overrated

Waiting on you, every breath bated

Hey hey hey

They played LA two more nights before moving on to San Francisco. Then Vegas, then Seattle, and across the rest of the continent, all the way to New York.

“Madison Square Garden,” James swallowed, taking in the iconic jumbotron above their heads and the entire stadium, really.

Just three hours later, he was up on that very stage, sweat trickling down his back and the bridge of his nose as he sang his heart out about a funny story the designer, Lily Evans once related about her sister via Instagram post.

There’s a little house on Privet Drive

Where nothing ever happens

Little curtain twitcher of a wife

And a little boy and husband

But when they leave for their nine to five

And the little boy goes to school

The little old lady with cats ninety-nine

Does what she wills to do

Living next to ordinary no. 4

So much to do, so much to explore

The grocer down the street from me

His daughter left for university

And he needs the comfort of my tabbies

Yessiree, that’s what I’m here for

Your neighbour next to ordinary no. 4

After that, they went all over South America. The streets were typically too narrow to drive a tour bus around, so they often jetted from one country to another and rented a little convoy of minivans to take them to the arenas from their hotels and back.

“Shit, Petey’s got food poisoning!” Remus fussed over the poor boy.

“I’m fine! Really!” the blond insisted before doubling over and retching once more.

“I can fill in,” DJ Diggle adjusted his signature flat cap, “I have all your songs pre-recorded -”

“We have half an hour to get it out of his system!” Sirius declared determinedly, “We’re not going on without you, Pete!”

“I’ve got the doctor!” Arthur came in, followed closely by a middle-aged woman with apple cheeks and curly hair.

“You need to replace your fluids,” Molly handed Peter a bottle of electrolytes.

“Yeah, it’s a common bacterial infection going around among tourists,” said the doctor, giving him a dose of antibiotics, “He’s not in any shape to perform, you lot, so you might as well let him rest.”

“I can - oh,” Peter ran to the bathroom.

“How soon can you give him another dose of that?” Sirius asked anxiously.

“Not any time in the next half hour,” she narrowed her eyes at him, apparently having overheard his earlier proclamation.

“Poppy’s right,” said Arthur, “Peter’s health comes first. Dedalus, isolate the keyboards in every track and queue the set list.”

“Try to keep in time,” Sirius added.

“No improvising for tonight, lads,” Arthur warned the regular band members.

“But -” 

“I’m serious.”

“And so am I!” he could only maintain a straight face for two and a half seconds after he said this.

James sighed as they waited for the DJ to introduce them half an hour later, “It’s not going to be the same without Peter.”

“We’ll make the best of it, Jimbo,” Remus assured him, “and he’ll be back with us for the next one.”

The frontman set his jaw, pushed his glasses up his face and pulled the microphone to his lips.

Do you remember

The games we used to play

Mermaids underwater

Aliens in outer space

Do you remember

The sticks we’d raise aloft

We called them swords and never

Lost the battles that we fought

Peter was back on stage the next night, to much celebration and all too soon, they flew back across the pond for their European leg. Of course, their first stop was Scotland.

“It’s so good to be home,” James sighed happily, pausing to wipe his glasses on the hem of his shirt and winking at a girl who lost it at the sight of his abdomen, “This is our last song. Please join in if you know the words. Or make them up. Just have a good time. Be as loud as you want to. We love you all, thank you for everything you’ve done for us. We’re the luckiest boys in the world.”

Is there a risk to it?

Is it a challenge?

If there isn’t, if it isn’t, I don’t want it

Yeah, I wanna do some damage

I feel lucky tonight

I got you by my side

Seven days in a week

And you spend them with me

So hell yeah, I feel lucky

"That sounds really good, Pete," said James from where he lay on the floor of their stage after the arena emptied, "We could use that."

Peter chuckled, "It's Chopin. A waltz."

James ambles over and his friend makes room for him on the bench.

"It's a split C chord, then F, A flat..." he guides him through the song. It's out of time and messy, but they're having fun. "James…"

"Yeah, Pete?"

"What are we going to do about Tom Riddle's offer? I mean, his dad’s label practically owns half the music industry. And Castle is just this little independent… He could make our lives more difficult than he already has." 

"Unless we join him, you're thinking?" 

"We could ask Arthur to negotiate a group contract just the same. I doubt they'll dislike the idea of paying less upfront."

"But what about loyalty to everyone at Castle? McGonagall? Urquart?" James shook his head, "We're having a successful tour in spite of the ticket bots Riddle set on us. We're looking out into seas of fans all wearing our merch in spite of his shipment hijacking. And we're having bloody good time because we're not letting any of the homophobic slander he's fueled the press with get to us."

"Here, here!" cheered Sirius, clinking his beer bottle with his boyfriend's.

"Right, rest up, lads! You deserve it with all the work you put into this show," James stood and ambled back to the tour bus, where Shacklebolt was already sleeping soundly, being the earliest riser of them all.

“Goodnight, all!” Peter loved his friends, truly. But he was convinced their stubborn sense of the meaning of courage would do them a great disservice.

As always when confronted with a decision to make, he visited the only jazz bar in Scotland, the Leaky Kettle. Immediately upon stepping inside, he let the smooth piano carry away the stress. 

“The usual,” he told the bartender.

“Put it on my tab,” Tom Riddle swivelled around on the bar stool, "Fancy meeting you here."

"You mean you didn't expect to? Didn't plan it?" Peter received his drink with barely more than a sideways glance at their adversary.

"It's just business, Peter. I know you understand that."

"Then why go through all this trouble for one act? There must be thousands - hundreds of thousands - of talented artists who could make you rich."

Tom rolled his eyes, "My father was always… a bit single-minded. He wants to put me through my paces before handing me the keys to the kingdom, so to speak. But don’t worry about that. Just know this: I think your group is talented and I can see that you’re the musical glue holding it all together. You’re the only one with any formal training, after all. And I really can see to your career’s longevity. If you stick with this boyband too long, though…” 

Peter raised his eyebrows, “Then what?”

“Well,” the label executive leaned in, “then you’ll need to think about what that does to your image as a real, serious musician.”

The blond boy finished his drink. 

“Another one for my friend,” Tom told the bartender, took his jacket, and left.

His calling card sat heavy in the keyboardist’s wallet.

[atc74]

Thinking of You

Square(s) Filled: Artist Au for @spnfluffbingo2019 (I am taking some creative liberty here as both characters are written as songwriters, therefore...artist)

Warnings: Breakup, mentions of Jensen being a playboy, angst, fluff

Summary: Y/N feels the need to make it on her own without Jensen’s name to help her career, but he’s still always there, with her. 

Pairing: Jensen x Reader, featuring Christian Kane

Word Count: 1570 (with lyrics)

Written for: @spnfluffbingo2019

Beta’d by: @amanda-teaches, I love you girl!

A/N: I’ve been listening to a lot of Christian Kane lately. Like A LOT, so here is another fic inspired by his song, Thinking of You, which he performed on the show Leverage. I use a local LA station and radio personality as a setting for a portion of the story. 

** As a reminder, this is a work of fiction and should be regarded as such. No harm is intended toward the actor(s) or their families.

Like Jensen’s scent? Buy it here from @scentsfromthebunker!

Jensen stared at the headline of the daily paper over his morning coffee: “Heartbreaker Jensen Ackles leaves another girl in the dust as his music career picks up speed.” It’s been on his mind for days, but he finally made the call.

“Chris, man I need your help,” Jensen pleaded with his longtime friend.

“The infamous Jensen Ackles needs my help?” Christian Kane marveled.

“Infamous, really?” Jensen scoffed.

“Would you prefer notorious, nefarious, scandalous?” Christian was laughing hard on the other end of the phone. It was no secret in their younger days, they all had plenty of women throwing themselves at the pair, but Jensen never found the right fit. The world just assumed he was a playboy, and he did nothing to prove them wrong.

“She dumped me, Chris. I was ready to give her everything and she dropped me like a hot potato. Said she needed to focus on her career and wanted to make a name for herself on her own,” Jensen sniffed.

Kane sat up a little straighter, phone still in hand. “I’ve had your back for twenty years buddy, I ain’t about to say no now. What do you need?”

“I’ve got a writer’s showcase next weekend. I’ve got an idea, but I need your help,” Jensen explained his idea to Christian and they agreed to meet the next day.

~*~

Y/N Y/L/N had been performing show after show in little rinky dink clubs and county fairs. Her debut single was climbing the charts, but she felt like she was losing a part of herself in the process. Maybe the hardest part was having to sing that song every other night for the last three weeks. A song she wrote with Jensen. A song she had recorded and Jensen provided harmony on. A song that spoke about their love.

Now, what did she have? A hit single with her ex-boyfriend. How’s that for irony? She broke up with him because she wanted to make it on her own. Her own talent, her own name. And, it’s the song they co-wrote while they were together that was pushing her toward the top. She read the headline one more time as her tour bus rolled to the next town and her tears fell, staining the newsprint.

The entire world thought he kicked her to the curb but it was all her doing. It had been three weeks and she hadn’t seen or heard from him since she walked out on him. But she would have to see him next weekend at the showcase. They were expected to perform for everyone. She didn’t know how she could look him in the face now. Making it on her own? It was still him pushing her to chase her dreams like he always had. She wouldn’t be where she was if it wasn’t for him.

~*~

“Hey Los Angeles! I’m Christine Martindale and you’re listening to KKGO, Go Country 105 and have we got a show for you today!” Christine opened her broadcast for the day. “Tomorrow is the Ivories and Strings Songwriters showcase and we have a few of the songwriters in the station today to give all of us sneak peeks into their new music.”

Queuing up the next song in the lineup, Christine hit a couple buttons on the board in front of her before looking to her producer. “Who do we have first, Rudy?”

“We’ve got Y/N Y/L/N, Jensen Ackles with Christian Kane, and Steve Carlson all in the building today. Who do you want first?”

“Seriously? What is wrong with the booking agents? They booked both of them to be on with me today?” She rolled her eyes at Rudy through the glass. “Let’s go with Ackles and Kane first. I’ve loved him since he was on Days of Our Lives and Christian was on Angel!”

“Welcome back LA. That was Kane Brown with Short Skirt Weather and, speaking of Kane, I’ve got Jensen Ackles and Christian Kane here in the studio with me today. We’ll be hearing from Y/N Y/L/N and Steve Carlson both a bit later, but gentlemen, welcome!” Christine smiled brightly at both Jensen and Christian sitting across from her with their guitars. “Jensen, now that Supernatural is winding down, we understand you’ve been working on some music. What can you tell us about your newest project?”

“Hey, Christine. Well, yeah, after fifteen years of playing the same character, who to be honest, will always be a part of me, I decided it was time to delve a little deeper into something that I’ve always loved to do. I have been working with Steve Carlson and Jason Manns on a new album of original material,” Jensen chuckled a bit, clearing his throat. “And Chris tagged along with me today to debut my newest song which he co-wrote with me.”

“Well, I am excited. Christian, it’s always good to see you. Let’s hear it!” The announcer flipped off her microphone and watched as the singers readied themselves. The soft strums of their guitars filled the studio before Jensen started singing.

Well I know they say all good things

Must come to some kind of ending

We were so damn good, I guess we never stood a chance

Go and find what you've been missin'

When that highways tired a listenin'

You'll see I'm not that easy to forget

Jensen closed his eyes as he sang, his voice filled with emotion. He opened them to meet Christian’s as he joined him on the chorus.

And when a new moon shines through your window

Or you hear a sad song on the radio

And you don't know why but you just start to cry

Or you’re driving round on a sunny day

And outta nowhere comes the pouring rain

And a memory hits you right out of the blue

That's just me

Thinking of you

The constant commotion inside the radio station seemed to cease and all ears were tuned to the overhead speakers broadcasting Christine’s midday show and the singers in studio. Y/N looked up from her phone and froze when she heard a familiar voice coming from above.

I'm not gonna try to stop you

Duddn’t mean that I don't want too

If I know you, you've already made up your mind

To go on and go if you’re leaving

Put a million miles between us

But you’ll still feel me like I'm right there at your side

Tears filled her eyes as she listened to his soulful voice as he sang the words that she knew must have been painful for him to write.

And when a new moon shines through your window

Or you hear a sad song on the radio

And you don't know why but you just start to cry

Or you’re driving round on a sunny day

And outta nowhere comes the pouring rain

And a memory hits you right out of the blue

That's just me

Thinking of you

And I'm thinkin' about the road you’re on

I'm thinkin' about you coming home

I'm wondering if you got your radio on

Y/N jumped to her feet and threw open the door to the green room. She rushed down the hall toward the studios, searching frantically through the windows for any sign of the ball cap and ginger beard she had yearned for since the day she walked out of his life. And, there he was, in the last window on her left. Her body skidded to a stop, but her heart and mind were racing with anticipation and jittery nerves as she met his emerald gaze through the glass as he sang.

And when you find your way to another town

And someone tries to lay ya down

And a feelin' hits you right out of the blue

It’s me thinking of you

That's just me

Thinking of you.

Jensen finished the last chord and dropped his guitar as he rose from the stool. He hurried from the inner studio and wrenched open the outer door. “Y/N…” Her name fell from his lips as it had a thousand times before, as a tear slipped down his face.

“I’m sorry, Jensen. You were right. Every town. Every song, the sun, even the rain. It was all you. It’s always been you. You’ve been there every step of the way, even after I turned my back on us. I was so wrong to think I needed to do this on my own. What good are the victories if I don’t have you to share them with?” Y/N professed.

Fresh tears fell once more from her red rimmed eyes as he took a step forward and brushed his thumb across her cheek. “I never stopped thinking about you.”

“I think about you every day and how stupid I was to leave. It’s not worth it if I can’t share it with you,” she cried, her hand covering his, still cupping her face. “I don’t want to share it with anyone else.”

“Good,” he sighed, pulling her into his warm and certain embrace. “‘Cause I’m pretty sure we just wrote a hit song about you and I’d hate to have to celebrate that without you.”

“I’m not going anywhere. We’ll celebrate all the number ones together,” she whispered.

“It doesn’t matter anymore. This is my greatest hit, right here.”

The Whole Enchilada: @iwantthedean  @dolphincliffs @mrswhozeewhatsis @meganwinchester1999 @cherrycokegirls1 @closetspngirl  @roxyspearing @flamencodiva @blacktithe7 @sis-tafics @just-another-busyfangirl @evansrogerskitten @amanda-teaches @hannahindie @wotinspntarnation @winchesterprincessbride @winecatsandpizza @kickingitwithkirk  @wi-deangirl77 @hobby27 @mogaruke @gh0stgurl @paintrider13-blog @hunterscabin @alleiradayne @idreamofplaid

The Dean’s List / Jensen’s Jamboree: @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @dean-winchesters-bacon @maddiepants @adoptdontshoppets @mtngirlforever

[themeatlife]

the Meat Life Stay-At-Home Watchlist

Chronicling what I have watched or rewatched through the pandemic so far

The world has changed around us the last few months, particularly in the United States since March 11.  With the lack of events to hit up, like most Americans I’ve been catching up on some watching through the various streaming services and my own digital copies of movies and shows.

I didn’t really think of keeping up with what I have been watching until just recently, but here is what I can remember hitting up so far since I’ve spent the majority of the time at home.  Some are favorites that I would have watched anyway.  Some were unfinished until I got a chance to get back to them.  And others just became available.

Here’s what I remember of the watchlist:

The Office (Netfilx) This is a favorite of me and the wife.  We watch this on the regular though.  My wife uses The Office as her lullaby of sorts, putting it on in the evening as she gets ready for bed and is in bed to fall asleep.  I did a post on the 15th anniversary, so I won’t really deep-dive.

Gossip Girl (Netflix) Another one that my wife rotates with The Office as her lullaby.  The series is not bad, it’s basically The OC in Manhattan (both are created and developed by Josh Schwartz).  It also takes on a new perspective when you think about star Penn Badgley is the creep in You.  So Dan Humphrey gets this weird creeper Joe Goldberg vibe at times.

Parks and Recreation (Netflix) I never got into Parks and Rec on its original run.  I was encouraged to check it out by some coworkers since I liked The Office.  It is a great show, very funny, and poignant in a way.  It feels like a throwback to when people could disagree politically and still get along.  There is a lot less of that nowadays.  We might need more Parks and Rec in real life.  I started this right before the pandemic and finished around the beginning of things getting locked down.

Frozen II (Disney+) The sequel debuted on Disney+ early on in the quarantine period.  My family enjoyed it.  I thought it was entertaining, but I felt like it was weighted down a bit by the mythology explaining.  It seemed too busy explaining a lot of things.  Still an enjoyable movie, but the first is better.

Tiger King: Murder, Mayhem, and Madness (Netflix) Intriguing.  The series debuted early in the quarantine period and became a staple of stay-at-home viewing and a runaway hit.  Lots of WTF moments.  It was like the train wreck analogy to the Nth degree.  But you can tell it was made in a way that leans in favor of Joe Exotic, making him look like a victim in the last couple episodes.  Also gave way to memorable memes ever since.

The Rocketeer (Disney+) I haven’t watched this movie since I was a kid.  Looking back, you can see a lot of The Rocketeer in Captain America - The First Avenger.  Easy to see though, since they share the same director Joe Johnston.  Prior to America’s involvement in World War II, a movie star Nazi goes after an experimental rocket pack developed by Howard Hughes.  The rocket pack is retrieved by accident from a down on luck stunt pilot.  Fun movie.

Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker (Disney+) I should have watched the entire Skywalker saga leading up to it, but I figured I have a ton of time to do that later.  This was a May the 4th watch.  I haven’t watched the Skywalker saga finale since it was in theaters.  It’s not a bad movie, I just feel it could have been a lot better with some modifications here and there.  Also, I believe this was going to be the Leia movie.  The Force Awakens was Han’s swan song, as was The Last Jedi for Luke.  I feel like this would have been great for Leia but obviously they were limited due to the untimely death of Carrie Fisher.  The scene where Ren/Ben speaks with Han after battling Rey would have hit harder with Leia instead of Han.

Trolls: World Tour (VOD) Cute kid movie.  Was nice to hear a lot of familiar music.  Sucks that rock was the villain in the first couple acts.  Seeing it once was enough, though.  Like the first Trolls, I am glad my kids enjoyed it but did not participate in excessive multiple viewings.

Onward (Disney+) Didn’t get a chance to catch this at the theater before they closed them down.  Great movie, but gosh.  Why does Pixar always pull at the heart strings like that?  I was quietly crying to myself at the end.  I’m glad we made our living room dark theater-style, otherwise my kids would have seen me all torn up.

Fast and Furious 5-7 (Fast Five - HBO, The Fast and the Furious 6/Furious 7 - Digital) I ended up not watching the entire series.  There is a great trilogy within the series, 5-7 was that trilogy.  Fast Five was the best of the FF franchise and where it perfected their movie formula.  It was like an action Ocean’s Eleven with cars.  6 and 7 expanded on that formula, upping the humor and ridiculousness factor.  6 had the exits of the Han and Gisele characters (they found a way to tie in Tokyo Drift to the rest of the series, Gal Gadot was on her way to becoming Wonder Woman for DC).  And 7 had that great ending with the tribute to Paul Walker to the sounds of Wiz Khalifa and Charlie Puth.

Toy Story 4 (Disney+) Another Pixar hit.  Didn’t hit me quite as hard as Onward or Toy Story 3 did emotionally, thank goodness.  I thought this story was over the way Toy Story 3 ended.  But Pixar did a good job adapting to prolong these characters stories.  It did feel like it was a bit of two and three combined looking back.  Still very good, Pixar knows what it’s doing.

The Marvel Infinity Saga (Disney+/Netflix/Digital) Leading up to the one-year anniversary of the release of Avengers: Endgame, I went through and rewatched all 23 MCU movies.  This time, I went in chronological story order by starting with Captain America - The First Avenger.  I chronicled the order I watched in my last post.  Even after viewing many of these movies multiple times, I’m still amazed at how much I enjoy them and the scope of what Marvel was able to achieve leading into the climax in Endgame.

Community (Netflix/Hulu) I loved Community on its initial run on NBC but never watched any of the episodes when it was on Yahoo for its sixth season.  It has been great to rewatch the meta-humor and sitcom trope parodies.  And since Ken Jeong and Joel McHale started their own podcast called The Darkest Timeline (half COVID-19, half Community pod), it has been a good companion viewing.

The Back to the Future Trilogy (Netflix) Recent add to Netflix for easy viewing, these movies have been a favorite of the Mitra boys since childhood.  Upon viewing as an adult, there is some humor that I didn’t recognize as a kid that is hilarious to me now.  It is also crazy how well this teen time-travel sci-fi comedy works.  Some of the effects in Part 2 are dated and 2015 didn’t quite end up the way it did in the movies.  But overall very enjoyable on the rewatch!

Extraction (Netflix) High budget action flick funded by Netflix?  Written by the Russo Brothers?  And staring Chris Hemsworth?  I’m in!  Directed by long-time stunt man and Russo Bros go-to stunt coordinator Sam Hargrave (you can tell the Russo influence).  It has an awesome 15ish minute one-shot action/chase sequence that is top notch.  Don’t think much about the plot or the controversy of cultural representation, just enjoy the action.

The Mighty Ducks Trilogy (HBO) Another childhood favorite of mine.  Nevermind that the hockey itself isn’t accurate.  This is about pure fun for an hour and a half at a time.  Come for the hi-jinx, stay for the heart.  Triple-deke, knuckle-puck, taking out the trash.  And leave it out on the ice!

The Harry Potter Series (Blu-Ray/Digital) This was not a go-to for me until Linda made me watch the entire series.  I guess when the first movie came out, it was too much of a kid movie for me (I was a high school senior at the time).  But from the second movie onward, it felt like the storytelling and movie making got better and better.  The Deathly Hallows was an epic ending, even if they did change the ending from the book.  I didn’t watch the newer Fantastic Beasts movies along with this though, my wife did.

Westworld - Season 3 (HBO) Recently got HBO back, so I caught up on Westworld Season 3.  I haven’t rewatched the previous seasons yet, but I may revisit it soon.  Season 1 was spectacular, Season 2 was confusing as hell but still entertaining.  Season 3 is somewhere in between, expanding on the ongoing storyline.  It was more straight-forward because its storyline is in the “real-world.”  For those of you that have watched, didn’t you think it was highly ironic that the Incite ball was basically the AT&T logo? (AT&T is the parent company for WarnerMedia and HBO)

The Last Dance (ESPN/ESPN+) The Michael Jordan docu-series has been a god-sent for sports fans devoid of live American sports for the past couple months.  Is it Jordan-biased?  Sure.  But it is full of drama and intrigue and full of nostalgia.  The NBA had commissioned a camera crew to follow the 1997-1998 Chicago Bulls on their run for their sixth NBA championship.  Jordan owned the controlling rights to the footage and unlocked it after the 2016 NBA Finals.  So this documentary was years in the making and with the pandemic the release date was moved up.  Although it featured a lot of unseen footage, it also chronicled the years leading up to the 1998 Bulls title.  The last 5 Sundays have been awesome.

The Princess Bride (Disney+) I haven’t watched this movie since I was a kid.  It wasn’t one of my recurring watches back then.  So this was actually my second viewing of this movie ever.  I found it quite enjoyable.  It was cheesy, but fun, and a good family watch.  One of the many older titles available on Disney+.

Scoob (VOD) My kids had some of the older Scooby Doo episodes on DVD and watched them when they were younger.  This was a fun revisit for them and for us as parents.  It was actually cool seeing a lot of the Hanna-Barbera characters in one movie.  We watched this shortly after finishing Community, and my kids recognized Ken Jeong’s voice as Dynomutt.  My daughter hilariously shouted “Senor Chang!” when she recognized him.

The Indiana Jones Series (Netflix) I introduced my son to Indiana Jones a few months ago watching Raiders of the Lost Ark.  He loved it.  He lost a little bit of interest during the Temple of Doom, I think the character Short Round lost it for him (character hasn’t aged well).  The Last Crusade reclaimed his interest.  Harrison Ford was at his natural apex playing Indiana Jones.  I did not watch the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull.  I didn’t feel the need to revisit that installment, while it was enjoyable the alien ending ruined the lead up to it.

The Dark Knight Trilogy (Batman Begins/The Dark Knight - Hulu, The Dark Knight Rises - Digital) Every few years I try to revisit this series.  It is the best thing DC has ever put out cinematically.  While Begins and Rises is more comic book, TDK is a straight crime drama set in the world of Batman.  My favorite is Rises, but the absolute best comic book movie remains The Dark Knight, even with the advent of the Marvel Cinematic Universe.

Jurassic Park/Jurassic World Series (Jurassic Park/The Lost World: Jurassic Park - Blu-Ray, Jurassic World - Digital, Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom - Cinemax) The original Jurassic Park is such a great movie.  Rewatching, it’s crazy how well the effects for the dinosaurs hold up.  Steven Spielberg, Stan Winston, and ILM did a great job mixing animatronic and CGI dino effects that stand the test of time.  The Lost World was enjoyable but not as good as the original.  I skipped JP III, such a bad movie.  Jurassic World was a good way to reboot the series, basically a remake of the original but incorporating a lot of references to it.  I just finished Fallen Kingdom today.  Although Fallen Kingdom was entertaining, it fails to recapture some of the magic of JP and JW.

I’m not sure what I will hit up next.  I might hit some Keanu Reeves movies like Speed, the Matrix Trilogy, and/or the John Wick Trilogy.  Maybe Top Gun.  Maybe rewatch Friends or How I Met Your Mother.  Maybe something on HBO Max when it comes out like The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air.  Maybe Terminator.  Possibilities are endless, at least until some American sports return.

[writingsofmyimagination]

Conjecture |1|

Yoongi x Reader

Idol Reader Au, Enemies to Lovers AU

Summary: Your management refused to renew your contract unless you collaborated, so you ending up working with Min Yoongi. A guy you’d disliked from before both of your debuts. There is more to their past than meets the eye.

Words:2011

This will be a series so if you want to be tagged let me know :)

Warnings: None ( but look forward to a Sub and Dom Yoongi because who doesn’t)

Enjoy, let me know what you think :)

“I don’t know if you’re more excited than me about this and I’m the one who’s going to be working with her” Yoongi said amused.

“The industry has been asking for this collaboration of its two best rappers and producers for years, and it’s finally going to happen under my label, I have every right to be excited. I warn you though she’s not happy about it” Yoongi filled his glass from a large jug in the centre of the table.

“They would only renew her contract if she agreed to collaborate” Bang continued “I mean why she’s refused to work with anyone since before her official label debut is beyond me”

“I’m sure she has her reasons” Yoongi blurted out defensively.

“You’ve loved her work since the underground haven’t you?” Lee asked

“Yes and it was incredible even back then”

“No need to get defensive Yoongi” Bang said, suspicion growing through his expression. “I’m just trying to prepare you, she might not be the most amenable and agreeable person you’ve worked with. She has a reputation for being unconventional at best”

“I’m sure I can handle ‘unconventional’ for a few weeks”

//KNOCK KNOCK//

The receptionist opened the door to the conference room and ushered you inside with a polite gesture. All of the guys in the room stood up and bowed with Yoongi bowing noticeably lower than the others. You returned the gesture with a polite smile on your face. Bang came closer to you and also greeted you with a firm handshake.

“Y/N it’s so lovely to have you here, let me introduce you to everyone” He began walking you round the table “This is Lee, he’s our main concept director, Hoseok here is the studio manager and of course I hardly need to introduce you to Yoongi” A genuine bright expression diffused onto his face; he bowed once more

“I can’t tell you how excited I am for this project” you could tell he meant every last word. You had to exert slightly more effort to keep the politeness from waning in your smile.

“BigHits been asking me long enough” you kept your tone as light and relaxed as you could. The slight flinch in his expression told you he was unsure how to tread with his next words; thankfully he was saved by his manager

“Shall we get started, this won’t take long” Bang suggested. You took your seat next to Yoongi and had a glance at all the BTS album plagues lined round the pale walls surrounding you.

“The announcement of this project has already caused mass excitement so I’m sure I don’t need to emphasise the importance of care and discretion for this, Dispatch have already been seen lingering around. If it is suitable with you Y/N Yoongi has suggested very generously the idea for you to stay at his new apartment to maximise discretion and the dedicated work time”

“There’s a whole studio and we can work unbothered” Yoongi added

“Of course you will have full access to BigHit facilities, with that said there is a lot of recording taking place at the moment so you’ll have to use your time wisely” Hoseok added.

There was an expectant silence waiting for your response. You was not expecting to stay with him, this definitely soured your mood further to the jet lag draining your muscles.

“If that’s what you thinks best, it would be good to have another studio to have full access to” you replied stopping any sourness from seeping into your voice. Your peripheral vision detected miniscule movement from Yoongi, his face went from yours to down at his hands, fingers entwining together. It appears the sourness had leaked somewhat into your expression.

“Good, we want to give you freedom for this project but the concept of this track has already been decided” Bang gestured over to Lee. Heads all turned to the concept director; you took a few mouthfuls of your iced coffee hoping for any kick to keep you alert.

“So for the concept we want to use the known fact of your previous friendly rivalry as a starting point. Within the lyrics and for the video of course we want there to be an element of conflict or dislike towards each other with you singing individually” Already there you scoffed within your own thoughts. “And by the end of the song we want a sense of resolution and the pair of you vocalising together”

“Doesn’t sound like too much freedom to me” you offered shifting in your snuggly fitted shirt unbuttoning your waistcoat.  You hated being in formal wear especially after a long flight; with your world tour finished all you craved was to be in your comfy trackies and oversized hoodies. The eyes around you in the room flittered anxiously.

“But the idea is pretty sweet and fans would certainly love it” you felt the angst settling in the room “I can work with it” you added beneath your non-chalant tone the concept actually heightened your interest for this whole thing.

The meeting droned on for longer than it really needed to at this stage, discussions of the music video, promotions and performances and the like were all very well but we’d yet to even write the track. You personally couldn’t work on those things until the song had legs and the feel of the beat had absorbed into your being and dictated the direction you’d want to take. A sly look to your right at Yoongi’s expression gave away that he must feel the same; you suppressed an amused grin from surfacing. Half of your brain power for the remainder of the meeting was just you scolding yourself and your mind for constantly drifting off appreciating the absolute flawless visual of Min Yoongi. He was attractive back in the day and his image more recently has always been increasingly pleasing to your eyes but up close and in a small vicinity you’d never expected your body to completely disregard your mind and react like you’d not had sex for weeks. You hadn’t. It had been months, six to be exact, your tour was unforgiving with its lack of free time.

“Okay, you two go create this masterpiece” Bang stood with everyone else following suit with their goodbyes, you exhaled, relieved for your mind to be focused back on the reality of the room. That was until everyone had left just the two of you in the room alone. You unlocked and checked your phone distracting you from the draining silence.

“My place is ready whenever you are” He offered as he stood and grabbed his phone of the table.

“I’m already packed” you kept your eyes down and scanning through your messages.

“Sweet do you want to catch a ride with me?”

“No thanks, I’m more than capable of getting myself to yours, I’ll just need your address”

“Err okay sure thing” You exchanged numbers and he sent you all the details. You had to give him some kind of credit he was definitely dealing with your bluntness well.

“See you there, I’ll message you when I park up” and with that you left and headed out to your car.

After passing through the security gates and parking up and sending a quick message you couldn’t help but appreciate the success the both of you had had looking up at the towering building; the last time you were at his place it certainly wasn’t a three million dollar apartment.

“Welcome, please come in, please see this as your home while you’re here” Yoongi beamed. His politeness grated on you, his thoughtfulness and kindness is no secret but unfortunately the last time you were in a situation with him it had left a bitter taste in your mouth which had done nothing but fester over the years.

“I’ll try, I’m not used to sharing, but thank you for your having me”

“You’re quite welcome, if I’m honest I haven’t quite got used to being on my own yet so you’re doing me a favour and helping me out” you wheeled your suitcase against the wall and removed your shoes before you ventured further into the apartment. The palatial living space was calm, neutral colours were prominent from the fleecy rug at the foot of the large corner sofa to the vertical blinds bunched together at the sides of the large rectangular window overlooking the city. The only thing that looked slightly out of sync with the room was the mahogany upright piano also facing in the direction of the window.

“Can I get you anything to drink or eat?” he asked walking to the open plan kitchen to the right and grabbed himself a bottle of water from the fridge, you let him take a few mouthfuls before replying.  You tried to make out the band name on his t-shirt but his red and black chequered shirt obscured too much of the detail so naturally instead you got drawn to his collarbones and the milky skin veneered over them.

“Is it too early to ask for anything alcoholic?” you pleaded spinning yourself on one of the bar stools around the breakfast bar

“It’s just gone twelve, so I’m going to say no. What do you drink?”

“Honestly, anything”

“Well there’s some Vodka that needs finishing, with coke?”

“Perfect”.

“Let’s give you a tour” drink in hand you followed him dozily with an unapologetic buzz of excitement to see the Genius Lab. The floor was blanketed with light grey distressed wood flooring as you made your way down a short hallway, the furthest room away was a moderate yet adequately equipped gym with one wall lined entirely with a mirror and the floor space in front of it was clear; you guessed he utilised it as a dance space. Next up was your room, Wow! You thought. You’d never want to leave this room. In the centre of the back wall was a large low four poster oak bed; It looked more like the support structure of a cube. There were what looked like satins drapes draped over the top beams, the cream bedding was neatly made underneath the pale blue scatter cushions. There was a bedside dresser and on the right were two large oak doors which led to a walk in wardrobe. You couldn’t wait to stream your laptop through the considerable sized flat screen perched on the wall opposite the bed.

“Will this be okay?” Yoongi’s voice interrupted your room admiration.

“Are you kidding? the room’s beautiful” His eyes widened, this was the first time he’d actually picked up any excitement from you. His smile was content and it was in a word, adorable. He pointed to his bedroom door on the way to the studio, you’d be lying if you told yourself you wasn’t curious how his room was decorated.

“Well this definitely resembles home” Yoongi allowed you to sit in the main chair in front of the vast sea of dials, the sight of all the audio equipment and screens comforted you and soothed some of your attitude, but that could also be the vodka.

“You’ll find it hard to find anything that I don’t have that we’ll need” He was perched on the arm of the black leather sofa behind you looking proudly over the set up. Your soft smile peaked Yoongi’s curiosity.

“What?”

“Nothing, we just pretty much have the same equipment”

“Great minds” was all he responded before an awkward silence made the room almost like a vacuum.

“Anyway you must be flagging by now, we can catch up tomorrow morning and come up with some kind of plan.”

“Yeah that would be good actually, I don’t think I could even write my own name at this point”

He exhaled a small chuckle and you tracked back to the living room, grabbing your case and retiring to your room. After chucking on an oversized grey hoody and short you crawled into the bed and within minutes your exhaustion edged you into unconsciousness.

[winnipegpatty]

We’re Fatally Flawed | one | s.m. series

a/n: thanks to @fourtristattoos for helping me with some conceptual things. ily boo you are so good! 

warnings: language

if you’re interested in the music

“Hey man, my name’s Travis Clark. I sing for We the Kings? I hear you have a band in Toronto?”

“That, uh, yeah that’s right,” Shawn stuttered.

“We want you to play with us on tour.”

Shawn stuttered on his side of the phone. He hadn’t heard that right, clearly. “You what?” He said like a fucking idiot.

Is this what a big break felt like?

__

At the young age of twenty-three, Shawn Mendes hadn’t don’t much with his life. After graduating high school, Shawn had done what a good kid does, and went to college. He came out two years later, with an associates degree in business. Since, he’s done very little that would make his parents proud. He only went to college to oblige them in the first place, but now, three years out of college, he had nothing to show for it. Shawn wasn’t lazy or anything. He wasn’t one of those kids that came home from college and then moved into their parents basement and did nothing with their life. Shawn just didn’t love business. He didn’t love school. He loved music. And music was the only thing he could imagine doing, no matter how unrealistic or unlikely it seemed.

Shawn wasn’t completely ungrateful for college though. If it hadn’t been for those two years he would have never met Mandy Stein. A beautifully tender hearted person that he now could call his own. They’d been dating for almost four years now. Mandy was starting her first year as a kindergarten teacher this year. She was so excited, and Shawn knew she was made for teaching. Her kind heart and her caring demeanor was perfect for molding young minds.

So while Mandy was preparing her first lesson plans and decorating her classroom, Shawn was in the garage of his and Mandy’s small home practicing with his band, Terminal. The band was Shawn’s entire life. He’d somehow managed to find some of the most incredible people who were willing to go on the journey alongside him. Mike, Zubin, Eddy, and Dave all made up the band along with Shawn, and aside from Mandy they were the most important people in his life right now. Terminal had been doing good lately, after two years of playing to nothing but empty rooms or friends, they’d finally seemed to hit some momentum.

They’d most recently been asked to been asked to open for a handful of bands that were big in Toronto. It was good exposure, for a band so unknown. Punk music wasn’t exactly the most popular in Canada either, but Shawn couldn’t find it in himself to make the music people would want to hear. He had to make what he wanted to hear. What he was inspired to make. Even if it meant that he wasn’t going to have the fame and success that he truly craved. Even if it meant he never got to play in front of a full stadium.

Tonight they had a show at the Scotiabank arena. It was the first of a three night run in front of the band We the Kings. When Travis Clark had personally contacted Shawn a couple months ago, Shawn hadn’t believed him. Thought the phone call was some cruel prank, but Travis was in fact very serious. He’d heard Terminal’s debut EP through a friend, and he wanted their band to open for them. It was insane, and the craziest thing the band had ever had the opportunity to do by a long shot. Tonight they’d be playing in front of over 15,000 people. The band was collectively losing their shit.

It was the opportunity of a lifetime. Over the next five days, Terminal would have exposure to over 40,000 new people who had most likely never heard their music before. People who had no idea that they were still practicing in a soundproof garage. In the past few weeks, Shawn had been doing everything he could to up their social media game with the hopes of attracting new fans after the upcoming shows. His sister Aaliyah had helped him with some special instagram layout or something that she said would catch people’s eyes. He didn’t know much about that, but he trusted her.

“You’re coming tonight, right?” Shawn asked Mandy through the phone, voice filled with excitement.

The band was at the arena now, getting ready for soundcheck. Shawn couldn’t even think, it was so surreal.

“Babe, you know I’ve got to get my classroom ready tonight.”

Shawn bit his lip, minding the thin black ring on his lip. “Oh yeah, but you’ll make it to one of the other shows right?”

“I’m not sure yet,” Mandy’s voice came through.

Shawn tried not to feel the little pings of disappointment that were coming for his heart.

“I’m just so busy, Shawn,” Mandy added. “School starts in a week and a half. And I’m nowhere near ready.”

Shawn nodded, “Yeah that’s okay. Get lots of work done tonight. I’ll see you at home?”

Mandy smiled into the phone, “We can celebrate.”

Shawn flicked his tongue over his lips, “Yeah okay. I gotta go now, we’re gonna sound check.” Shawn sucked in a breath, “Fuck...we’re gonna soundcheck. I think I’m going to cry, Mandy. I’m a fucking pansy.”

“No, you’re just living your dream. It’s okay to be emotional about it.” She smiled, “I love you, Shawn. You’re gonna kill it.”

“Love you too.”

___

“FUCKKKK!” Zubin yelled from backstage. “This is really fucking happening isn’t it?” He looked too Shawn hopefully.

Shawn nodded, “It is. Fuck, I don’t think I can breathe. I’ve never been this nervous before.”

Zubin clapped Shawn on the back, laughing maniacally. “We’re gonna tear the stage up. Toronto isn’t gonna know what hit ‘em.”

“Exactly!” Eddy piped in.

“Okay, I just...let’s go over it again okay?” Shawn nervously twirled the thin band on his right ring finger. “Opening with Mess of Me, then Voices. I’ll introduce the band. Then we’ll sing Native Tongue. Terminal, Take My Fire, and then we’ll close with Bullet Soul.”

“We got it man,” Mike hollered. “We’ve been practicing for weeks. Stop worrying. Let’s just enjoy it, yeah?”

Shawn wasn’t sure if he could actually stop worrying, but he did his best to just breathe.

A man with a headset came up to them, “You guys are on. The lights will come up as soon as the video fades out.”

They all hustled onto stage and Shawn could feel his entire body vibrating as he placed his hands on his guitar, ready to strike his first chord. Thirty seconds later, the lights rise and the arena erupts in a chorus of screams. Shawn starts the riffs of Mess of Me and on the second go around Zubin joins in. “I am my own affliction,” Shawn’s voice comes through the speakers like smooth honey, and the crowd screams for them. “I am my own disease.”

The chorus crashes in and the boys come behind him singing a chorus of oh’s before Shawn voice goes raspy, and he starts singing the chorus at the top of his lungs. He’s never felt more alive than he does in this moment. He thinks back to his happiest memories, and there is nothing that compares to this moment in time. He thinks he finally knows what it means to be alive. Nerves a thing of the past, Shawn jumps on the stage, guitar in hand, and owns the performance like he was born to do exactly this.

Mess of Me segways easily into Voices, and it all just feels so right. The rush of adrenaline Shawn gets as he walks down the catwalk with his microphone was unreal. People, who minutes ago had no idea who he was, are reaching for him like he holds the fucking world in his hands. It’s addictive. Shawn bends down reaching out to touch a girls hand who screams at him as he sings, “And I’ve got a army of voices in my head.”

He looks towards the other side of the catwalk and catches eyes with a person who’s actually singing the words like they know who they are. And if Shawn thought performing to a hyped up crowd was cool before, he knew now had just a sliver of what it could feel like with a stadium full of people singing back to you. He needed to know what that felt like.

Voices came to a head when Zubin shouted the last few words and the music cut out. Shawn ran back up the catwalk back to his mic stand.

“Hello Toronto!” Shawn screamed into the microphone. The crowd explodes with screams and shouts and clapping. “You’re looking extra beautiful tonight. It is amazing to finally meet all of you lovely people. My name is Shawn. Zubin is here on guitar,” Zubin played a sick guitar riff that had Shawn’s ears humming. “Give it up for Eddy on the keys,” Eddy followed Zubin in a similar fashion. “And Mike is smashing it on the drums tonight, eh?” Mike killed a drum beat before Shawn screamed into the microphone, “And we are Terminal, this next song is Native Tongue.”

___

“Celebratory drinks?” Zubin asked as the boys packed up their guitars and packing them into the van they’d come in.

“Hell yes!” Shawn roared.

Piling into the van, they headed to a nearby bar. It was already past midnight, but fuck it. When the opportunity of a lifetime presents itself, you fucking celebrate.

We the Kings had killed it on stage, and the concert was just amazing. Coming off stage had been disorienting to say the least. Shawn was covered in sweat, his heart pounding, his ears ringing, and his entire body vibrating from adrenaline. The first step into back stage was like being hit by a wall of silence. The ringing in his ears intensified and his body suddenly felt like it was in an overwhelming overdrive with no real output. After sometime, the feeling eventually subsided and Shawn was able to return to life. But he’d definitely never experienced an adrenaline rush quite like that before. He was willing to bet it was addictive.

At the bar they each got a round of shots before picking their drinks of choice. They sat at a high top table, discussing the feelings the night had induced in all of the. Each member going over things they’d never forget. Moments that were worth reliving over and over again. Somewhere in the early hours of the morning, a girl walked over to the group, drink in hand.

“Hey, you’re the guys from Terminal right?” She slurred slightly. “Just saw you tonight.”

Shawn smiled, “Yeah that’s us.”

Fuck they were already being recognized? This is what dreams feel like, right?

“You guys, were so amazing tonight.”

The blonde girl leaned heavily against the table, coming closer to Shawn. She smelled like coconut.

“Well, thanks.” Shawn smiled. “Glad you liked it.”

She pressed into Shawn’s side and whispered, “I loved it.”

Shawn felt a rush heat run up his neck and onto his cheeks as he looked at the other boys who were just staring at the spectacle.

“Well it was nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, it was,” she looked at each of the band members before turning back to Shawn, looking like she wanted to completely devour him.

She stumbled away, and Zubin whistled at Shawn. “Dude Mandy’s got some competition.”

Shawn rolled his eyes, “You know there isn’t anyone but Mandy. Not for me anyway.”

Zubin looked at Eddy making a special kind of eye contact before Eddy laughed. Shawn ignored them in favor of grabbing another bear from the bar.

It wasn’t until after three that Shawn stumbled into their home. He slammed the door a little too loud, cringing at the loud echo in his skull. Tomorrow morning wasn’t going to be fun. He walked into the kitchen, cursing when he stubbed his toe against the island. He shuffled around looking for the light, before finally finding it, illuminating the room in a warm glow. He quickly grabbed a glass, filling it with water, and swallowing down some pain killers. Turning off the light, he stumbled down the hallway, into the bedroom.

Shawn pulled off his shirt and jeans before falling into his bed with a huff.

“Shawn?” Mandy whispered, rolling over. “What time is it?”

“It’s almost 4 babe, go back to sleep.”

“How was the concert?” She mumbled instead.

“It was good, babe. Now go back to sleep.”

She turned away from him in the bed, and Shawn pushed himself up against her back, arms wrapping around her torso.

“We were supposed to celebrate,” was the last thing Shawn heard before he slipped into a deep sleep.

tagging: @fourtristattoos @peacedolantwins2 @rosecth @unhealthyobsessionwithmarvel 

consider supporting me on ko-fi

[intoxicatingimmediacy]

Big Ups: Clipping Pick Their Bandcamp Favorites

“Right from the beginning, we always wanted to make a horror-themed record,” says Jonathan Snipes, a producer in the Los Angeles-based progressive noise-rap trio Clipping, alongside MC Daveed Diggs and fellow beatsmith Bill Hutson. The group’s third project for Sub Pop, There Existed an Addiction to Blood, updates the cult horrorcore hip-hop trend of the mid ‘90s in a thrilling and forward-thinking fashion. It’s a striking and deeply atmospheric record, powered by synth-based sonic experimentalism and grisly concept-focused writing that exudes a sinister and shadowy feel.

There Existed an Addiction to Blood adds to a stellar canon of work that kicked off with Clipping’s introductory midcity mixtape in 2013. “That one was really us learning how to be Clipping, and what we sounded like,” says Hutson, who helped mastermind the project’s metallic, glitch-afflicted beats. On the following year’s debut album, CLPPNG, the crew moved further towards what Hutson calls “dark and noise-tinged instrumentals.” The omission of the letter I in the album title represents the way Diggs avoids rhyming in the first person. Hutson maintains that if much of hip-hop involves MCs rapping about their own lives, Clipping’s music strives to be “a novel, not a memoir.” Case in point: 2016’s Splendor & Misery took shape as an Afrofuturist sci-fi adventure that explored an artificial intelligence world; 2017’s single “The Deep” inspired the author Rivers Solomon to expand the song’s environment into a novella of the same name.

Basing There Existed an Addiction to Blood around horrorcore and gory movies is a natural representation of Clipping’s influences and the way the trio approach writing songs. “Horrorcore is this forgotten and maligned subgenre of hip-hop that we’ve always had a tremendous amount of affection for,” says Hutson. “So much of Clipping is about referencing styles of hip-hop—almost all our songs were conceived as our take on a certain type of rap song—so this horror album was always going to happen.” Snipes adds, “We think of each of these songs as self-contained movie scores of vignettes in a specific genre.”

The original horrorcore movement that inspired Clipping’s latest album was spearheaded by RZA and Prince Paul’s Gravediggaz project, plus artists including Houston’s Ganksta N-I-P, Detroit’s Esham, and New York City’s Flatlinerz. ‘90s horrorcore lyrics were packed with macabre imagery and references to psychological disorders, satanism, and cannibalism; the gruesome verses were often relayed over willfully dank and grimey production. Clipping’s resurrection of the subgenre taps into the same lyrical themes—but this time Digg’s intense verses are backed by marauding waves of monstrous synths, sharp abrasive stabs of discordant noise, and snatches of field recordings that bring a chilling realism to There Existed an Addiction to Blood.

Key song “Run For Your Life” plays out like a frantic short movie. It co-stars Memphis MC La Chat, who used to roll with Three 6 Mafia and the Hypnotize Minds roster back in the ‘90s. “She’s hunting down Daveed and approaching and moving behind him in a car,” says Snipes. “Then in the third verse, we’re fully in the car with her.” To drum up the effect of the protagonist being chased to a bloody demise, Digg’s lyrics are surrounded by constantly shifting ambient noise: The sound of passing cars blasting music and dogs barking literally pulls the listener into the chilling scenario.

The same blend of adventurous production techniques and concept-heavy writing present on Clipping’s latest album also runs through Hutson and Snipes’s Bandcamp recommendations. Blasts of abstract hip-hop lyricism mix with innovative thematic albums and avant-garde film scores, adding up to a smart representation of Clipping’s advanced-level musical DNA.

Bill Hutson

Dax Pierson - Live In Oakland

I first saw Dax Pierson play around 2003, when he was in a group called Subtle that was an Anticon side project with Dose One and Jel. Dax was also the secret weapon of the Themselves project, which was also Dose and Jel, and on tour he’d play keys and finger drum on MPCs. Dax is this compelling, creative performer and composer. This tape came out on Ratskin and it’s from a more recent show—I might have even been at the show! His music is fascinating, almost uncategorizable left-field dance stuff that’s blending all these ideas.

John Wall - Hylic

I was really enamored of improvised music in the early ‘00s, and it’s a lot of what fueled my ravenous collector habit, which came from having to track down these obscure records that came from Japan and Germany and Switzerland and England, where they were only pressing a couple of hundred copies. John Wall is very careful as a computer music composer, and he’d spend years and years cutting up tiny pieces of improvised sounds and turning them into these totally austere and totally alien compositions. I was fascinated by the disparity between how much intention there was behind it and how alien the result sounds. Hylic almost sounds like there’s no human brain making logical choices that would compose this music—it feels like it’s naturally occurring in some way, like you’re listening to the background radiation of the solar system—but there’s also the most extreme version of authorship going into it.

billy woods - Hiding Places

I think billy woods is a fantastic example of this very abstract and angular and strange rapper but with these really strong connections to the history of New York rap. It’s almost like he’s from a different timeline where southern hip-hop didn’t take over the mainstream in the ‘00s and we kept going with Nas and Wu-Tang, and it’s developed into this new form. [Producer] Kenny Segal is a buddy—we’ve toured with him—and he would have been a youngster in the Project Blowed days but came out of the experimental L.A. hip-hop scene that produced Abstract Rude and Freestyle Fellowship and, later with the beatmakers, birthed the whole Low End Theory and Brainfeeder movement. This album is a New York and L.A. collab record that seems to perfectly synthesize two different types of left of center aesthetics, but feels completely natural in a way we wouldn’t have expected maybe 20 years ago.

Kevin Drumm - 09082001 gtr​/​synth ‘solo’

I included this not because anyone needs me to tell them Kevin Drumm is a fuckin’ noise hero, but I wanted to include Drumm because I think what he’s doing is a really unique thing that Bandcamp can provide: A couple of months ago I bought Drumm’s entire discography for like $22, which was like a hundred or so releases! He puts out so much, and it’s all of such high quality. This specific recording is from my favorite period of his work in the early-2000s, but it wasn’t available [back then] until he started bypassing labels and physical copies and started putting everything up himself direct to the fans.

DEBBY FRIDAY - DEATH DRIVE

[The label] Deathbomb Arc put out some of the first Clipping stuff. I think of [founder] Brian Miller as A&Ring my listening habits because he’s out there finding new artists I wouldn’t come across and putting out their records. DEBBY FRIDAY completely blew me away—this release seems both out of nowhere and so fully formed. It’s just brilliant and sort of industrial hip-hop. It’s really like the best Skinny Puppy album we never got but with way better lyrics and content and performance. It’s so smart and dark—she’s a really great lyricist.

Jonathan Snipes

Missincinatti - remove not the ancient landmarks

Missincinatti was Jeremy Drake, Jessica Catron, and Corey Fogel, and they had this band for a short time in L.A. where they played these contemporary arrangements of sea shanties. They’re all incredible musicians, and their arrangements were always so off-kilter and smart. This album is only on Bandcamp, and it’s like a little monument to this band that I loved so much for a short time. One of my favorite things is arrangements of folk music that almost feel like critical theory about folk music and this project feels like it’s in this realm. I wish they were still around playing shows so I could go to them.

François-Eudes Chanfrault - Inside

I discovered François-Eudes Chanfrault when I saw the movie for which this is the score. Then, when I started looking into François’s music, I realized that I’d run across him in online nerdy computer music circles. He became one of my favorite composers, and I became obsessed with tracking his music down. The development of the Inside score is really slow and tasteful, and that’s hard to accomplish when working with film. I also score movies, and film music always feels like if the music’s following a picture. It wants to be fast and have abrupt changes—but François is someone who is somehow able to make these really long elegant cues that actually play against the action of the film in this really striking way. It’s probably the last score I’d expect anybody to write for that movie, and it hits exactly the right tone. His use of electronics and computers and his use of a chamber ensemble are perfectly matched.

Lauren Bousfield - Fire Songs

Lauren’s a really good friend, and this album’s only available on Bandcamp. She’s an incredible musician—an absolute genius. This is the album she released shortly after her house burned down and she lost all her possessions in the fire. It feels very personal. It’s easy to think of electronic and breakcore as just splattered breakbeats that feel mechanical and machine-based. But this one, with the context [of the backstory], feels very emotional, and almost makes me tear up when I hear it.

Bryce Miller - W A S P

Bryce Miller is someone I found through some Bandcamp journalism, which I read regularly. This album, which is based on the Stieg Larsson Millennium books, is elegant and precise. There’s a lot of this retro ’80s synthwave stuff flying around—I’ve made a fair bit of it myself—but somehow this really nailed the tone of feeling very contemporary, but also very ancient. It’s like what I wanted synth records in the ’80s to sound like at the time, but they never quite did. The sense of melody and structure and tension and release is really spot on. Bryce feels like a real composer in that realm.

Max Tundra - With Love To Mummy

I first heard Max Tundra on the double disc compilation Tigerbeat6 Inc. from like 2001. I was really into Aphex Twin and Squarepusher and Kid606 and Matmos, and I was trying to figure out who was doing weird electronic music and that comp came out and it ended up being a huge window into bands I’d never heard of. Max Tundra’s track [“The Bill”] sounded like a general MIDI soundtrack to a spy show that he’d recorded into his answering machine! I’ve been a lifelong fan of his since then, and this collection is, like, his teenage recordings—it’s really interesting to hear his old music. It’s charming and fun to listen to as a fan, and to note where his music took him after that. I suppose other people feel the same way about that Radiohead release.

[sometimesalwaysmusic]

SURRENDER

Surrender is a duo of Dave Williams (DW) and Scott, veterans of the Ottawa music scene. They are set to release their debut album soon; in the meantime, give their first single, Hold On, a spin, and read on about their vast experiences in music, top albums, and thoughts on the Ottawa music scene. (Photo: Rémi Thériault)

VITALS

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/surrendersounds

Bandcamp: https://surrendersounds.bandcamp.com/releases 

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/surrendersounds/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/davemonomania (Dave)

Upcoming shows:  Stay tuned!

SA: How did Surrender come to be as a band? DW: Scott (Surrender vocalist) and I had been playing in the band Crusades for the past ten years, and in early 2018 we all quite amicably realized that the band had run its course. We did a final tour in the UK/Europe, one hometown show, and played our final two sets at The Fest in Florida. Toward the end of all that, with things winding to their conclusion, Scott and I began discussing working on something new together - something outside of the punk/hardcore scene that we’d been deeply involved in for the previous twenty-plus years. We’re both hugely into pop music, and of the synth-driven variety specifically. I had inherited a Roland Juno 106 when my best friend’s father passed away a few years earlier - it was a fixture in the home studio that I initially learned how to record in - and I sorta longed to make something with it. So, I started writing some songs on it at home, sent them to Scott, he sent some vocal ideas, and we were off. SA: What bands or musicians would you cite as the biggest influences on your sound? DW: Whew. I’ll do my best to keep this as brief as possible. There are some obvious touchstones: Kate Bush, Peter Gabriel, Tears for Fears, all of Vince Clarke’s 80s output - Erasure’s The Innocents is a big one, Eurythmics, OMD, Cyndi Lauper, The Cure... essentially the more ‘serious’ side of 80s synth-driven pop music. Later 80s/early 90s stuff like Björk/Sugarcubes, New Order and the ‘Madchester’ scene, Jesus Jones, Ned’s Atomic Dustbin and the other Grebo bands. I probably can’t overstate the impact of the quintessential 80s soundtracks: The Lost Boys, Footloose - Kenny Loggins’ “I’m Free” might be my favourite pop song of the decade. I’m a sucker for some of the big producers of that era too. Desmond Child was unstoppable for a while - Cher’s Heart of Stone is another BIG one. As for more modern stuff, I’m pretty obsessed with a lot of the Norwegian pop scene. Cold Mailman is a HUGE influence, as is Hanne Kolstø, Pyke, the new Misty Coast record, there’s a ton of amazing stuff coming out of that country. Some straight-up dance stuff too: Toulouse, Robyn, Pet Shop Boys, ABBA obviously. And of course, the still relatively-new Synthwave scene has some amazing artists: Kristine, FM-84, Michael Oakley, the whole culture of nostalgia surrounding the NewRetroWave world - music, movies, fashion - certainly runs parallel to what we’re doing, and I really dig a lot of it. SA: Thus far in your career, what has been your biggest success? DW: Hm. It’s safe to say that there are MANY variations on how one might measure artistic ‘success’. Coming up in a community where monetary success was never the goal (or at all likely), I’d say that getting to travel all over the map multiple times with my closest friends, meet and befriend people we’d have otherwise never crossed paths with, and see things most folks don’t get to see - all because we wrote some pretty cool songs - is probably my greatest personal success.   SA: On the other hand, what is the biggest challenge you have faced, and how have you dealt with it? DW: I think, for me anyway, the biggest challenge has been balancing my creative life with my personal one. I’m married with three small kids - 7, 4 and 2 - and that can obviously present a different set of priorities than simply hitting the road for most of the year and really pushing a project to its fullest potential. Admittedly I’ve been envious of friends and peers who just throw their gear and clothes in the van and make it happen ‘the old-fashioned way’. But that’s just not the life that I set up for myself, nor is it for Scott or the other folks we’ve played with - and I’m far from resentful of that - it just means we need to take a different approach. Amassing a substantial following or getting the attention of a bigger label isn’t terribly easy when you can’t be doing the literal legwork that other bands can. But I do my best to stay close to the people I’ve worked with all along, to show my gratitude and appreciation, and I work endlessly (to some peoples’ chagrin) on the music we make.   SA: How do you guys approach the song-writing process? DW: Since it’s just the two of us, it’s pretty easy to just bounce things back and forth before we actually get together in a room. Basically, I’ll come up with some chord progressions, leads, arpeggios, whatever on my Juno or my wide array of Arturia soft synths, then I’ll record the rhythm section tracks, typically writing most, if not all, of an instrumental song. I’ll send that to Scott and he’ll come up with vocal melodies and record a demo to send back to me. Then I’ll kind of edit the parts around his vocal ideas until we’re happy with the dynamics and how the song sorta lives and breathes. Then we’ll get together at Scott’s with a selection of wine and beer and a pizza, usually with extensive notes on harmonies and how to punch-up the existing vocal parts. We’ll track that stuff, I might do a few more edits at home, and then we send it to the wildly talented Alex Gamble at The Hive in Toronto for mixing, producing, extra instrumental layers, added drum machine stuff, whatever he hears. That’s pretty much how this first LP has gone, and it’s been an absolute pleasure.   SA: What are your thoughts on the Ottawa music scene? DW: I imagine like anyone who’s spent twenty-plus years in a community, subculture, what have you, I’ve got a lot of thoughts and feelings about the Ottawa music scene. My personal involvement tends to ebb and flow as new waves of participants arrive and others exit - years will go by where it feels like home and then there might be a few where I’m not quite as active - but it’s always very near and dear to me. There’s certainly never a lack of quality artists in this sleepy city. I started going to punk shows when I was thirteen - Punchbuggy (featuring a young Jim Bryson) at the Greely Legion was my first show ever - and twenty-five years later there are still a ton of the same faces mixed in with a ton of different ones. That’s a pretty special thing.   SA: As I understand it, you guys have been active in other bands of quite different genres in the past. Why SURRENDER, and why now? DW: As I mentioned, Crusades finished our ten-year run this past October. Black Tower, the sorta traditional heavy metal band I play drums in - with Scott on bass and his partner Erin on guitar and vocals - also decided to take it easy for a while, and although I still kinda ‘moonlight’ with The Steve Adamyk Band, that wasn’t happening at the time. Scott had also just wrapped up the “album cycle” with his band The Creeps and didn’t have much on the horizon there. I briefly played in a hardcore band called Power of Fear that did a few shows, but the current hardcore scene is very... let’s say... ‘youthful’, and it became apparent pretty quickly that it wasn’t something I wanted to stick with. Mostly I just wanted to make music with Scott, and based on our mutual love for 80s/90s pop music (and Scott’s equally toned down schedule), we decided to take a crack at doing something closer to the music we listen to the most. And honestly, I’d been writing and playing fast and/or aggressive music for so long, I really just wanted to make something upbeat and positive that people could dance to.   SA: A question for fun: your three desert island albums. What would they be and why? DW: Alright, this isn’t gonna be easy. Or brief. Note: these aren’t necessarily my favourite albums of all time (certainly they’re in the Top Ten), but if I’m gonna be listening to these on whatever hi-fi system this hypothetical island has until I wither away, here’s what I’d hope washed ashore with me (also, I’m gonna cheat using a nostalgia loophole):

1. Alice Cooper - Love It to Death / Killer (my Dad’s old dubbed cassette version) These two albums, both released in 1971, were my first love. They were on a single cassette in my Dad’s collection and really still exist as a single entity to me. I always cite my discovery of these two albums, probably at 4-5 years old, as the foundation for my entire musical life to come. Not only were they mysterious and rather frightening, but there was an eclecticism in this batch of songs that made everything I fell in love with afterward - metal, punk, prog, pop, garage, etc. - seem somehow part of the same cloth. Alice and that original band showed me very early on that there’s no need to limit oneself to the confines of a style, sound, genre, whatever. Most important records that ever happened to me.

2. Misfits - Walk Among Us / Earth A.D. / Legacy of Brutality (also a homemade cassette version c/o my friend Judd’s older sister, fully decorated with black Sharpie and White-Out) If early Alice Cooper set me on the weirdo path as a youngster, it was a single afternoon taping CDs in my friend Judd’s bedroom that locked me into the punk rock subculture forever. We’d been Guns N Roses turned Pantera turned Sepultura fans like many a shitty kid of the 80s/90s, and Danzig’s ‘Mother’ was in heavy rotation everywhere at the time, so we were no stranger to that beautiful beast’s howl. When Judd’s sister borrowed a stack of Misfits CDs from a pal at school and explained to us that this was Glenn Danzig’s old band (of course we recognized the name and logo from Rockabilia ads and Cliff Burton photos), we dove in assuming we knew what was coming. We most certainly did not. The Misfits became my favourite band that day and have been for every day since.

3. Peter Gabriel - So Every time I listen to this incredible record, I discover new things I love about it. A perpetual go-to and a true monument to the possibilities within pop music (shout out to Daniel Lanois there too). I was going to choose his Shaking the Tree compilation because it contains my favourite PG track - the piano version of “Here Comes the Flood” - but I figure I’d cheated enough with the first two answers. ...also Kate Bush’s Hounds of Love, The Hellacopters’ High Visibility, Cold Mailman’s Everything Aflutter, Cave In’s Jupiter, and The Lemonheads’ It’s A Shame About Ray. This is an unfair question.   SA: Finally, what comes next for Surrender moving into 2019 and beyond? Best of luck! DW: First on the agenda is to find an ideal home for the LP. We’d kinda like to step out from beneath the umbrella of labels we’ve worked with in the past, but there are no specific plans thus far. Just release the second single, hope the feedback is good and see if anyone wants to partner up for the long haul. As far as any live performances go, that’s a big question mark. It’s been so great doing this with just the two of us, it’s hard to imagine inviting anyone else into the fold. That said, it’s even harder to picture just the two of us on stage like Yazoo on “Top of The Pops,” so who knows? Thanks so much!

[krispyweiss]

The Best of Live Music 2018

Another year is coming to a close and with it, another year of wonderful - and a few not-so-wonderful - live-music experiences.

In an effort to accentuate the positive, Sound Bites is devoting this space - and many column inches of copy - to review excerpts from his favorite concerts of 2018. They’re grouped is as good an order as he could come up with in categories of A+, A and A-; shows of B+ and below didn’t make the, uh, grade.

The numbers in parentheses indicate the number of times Sound Bites has been privileged to see the artist in question.

A+

I’m With Her (3) at Southern Theatre, Columbus, Ohio, Nov. 5: Though I'm With Her are incomparable, the closest thing might be Crosby, Stills and Nash, if that group ditched the rock 'n' roll and managed to stay on key always. Their version of John Hiatt's "Crossing Muddy Waters" is to Hiatt as CSN's "Blackbrid is to the Beatles - an improvement on what’s already essentially perfect. There really are no words to describe the intensity of their performances, which have been on a steady uphill climb on their three Ohio appearances in the past 15 months, even though their first of those, in Cincinnati, seemed impossible to improve upon.

I’m With Her (2) at Memorial Hall OTR, Cincinnati, Ohio, March 5: Even if it’s 100 degrees, sweaters or jackets should be required at any I’m With Her concert, because Sara Watkins, Sarah Jarosz and Aoife O’Donovan’ll send shivers up and down concertgoers’ spines. Take any superlative modified by any adverb, and you still couldn’t adequately describe the quality of this concert.

Rhiannon Giddens (2) at Memorial Hall OTR, Cincinnati, Ohio, May 20: Barefooted in a yellow, floor-length skirt and a black blazer, with playful splashes of red dye in her black hair, Giddens sawed her fiddle and clawed at her banjo for about half the evening and spent the reminder of her time onstage using her greatest instrument - her expressive voice. Jumping, punching the air to accentuate notes, losing herself in the music with her eyes up in her thrown-back head, Giddens was entranced by the music and cast the same spell on the audience. Part opera singer, part jazzy chanteuse, part Southern wailer, part preacher, Giddens is a nearly supernatural force - like a once-in-a-century storm of music - the rare vocalist who spends entire concerts spitting out notes most singers would be happy to hit once a night.

Magic Dick and Shun Ng with Acoustic Hot Tuna (8) at Jorma Kaukonen's Fur Peace Ranch, Pomeroy, Ohio, Nov. 10: It's too bad Fur Peace Ranch doesn't have a marquee because seeing the billing of Magic Dick and Hot Tuna in lights would've been priceless. As it went, hearing the former J. Giles Bard harp player paired with virtuosic, wonder-kid guitarist Shun Ng headlining over Acoustic Hot Tuna was also priceless, as the top of the bill put on one of those impossible-to-believe concerts and Hot Tuna were their typically terrific selves during their warm-up slot on a cold, frost-filled Nov. 10 concert in Pomeroy.

An Exclusive Evening with Jorma Kaukonen (5) at Gramercy Books, Bexley, Ohio, Nov. 15: Jorma Kaukonen answered questions, read from his new memoir and played a few tunes when he held court in front of 60 devotees inside Bexley's Gramercy Books. The guitarist's only bookstore stop on his tour to promote "Been So Long: My Life and Music" was billed as “An Exclusive Evening with Jorma Kaukonen” and found the Jefferson Airplane and Hot Tuna co-founder perched on a barstool taking questions from former Rock and Roll Hall of Fame chair and Zeppelin Productions founder Alec Wightman and the audience; reading from the book; and showing off his unique picking style on chestnuts such as the Airplane's "Embryonic Journey" and the "trad." "How Long Blues."

A

Outlaw Music Festival feat. Willie Nelson (12) and Family, Van Morrison (4), Tedeschi Trucks Band (8), Sturgill Simpson, Lukas Nelson & Promise of the Real (2) and Particle Kid (2) at Hersheypark Stadium, Hershey, Penn., Sept. 8: Though he's absolutely earned the right, Willie Nelson probably shouldn't follow Van Morrison and the Tedeschi Trucks Band. He followed an uncharacteristically jovial Morrison, who, dressed in his trademark dark suit, fedora and shades visited many corners of his storied songbook in a generous, 90-minute set. Meanwhile, the 12-piece Tedeschi Trucks band slayed the smallish audience in the cavernous stadium. And Sturgill Simpson played a jaw-dropping, 80-minute concert that was boiling stew of blues-based rock with the faintest hint of outlaw spice.

John Prine (2) at Ohio Theatre, Columbus, Ohio, Sept. 28: John Prine and his four-piece band played a career-spanning, genre-bending, tear-jerking, joke-telling show that found them running through all of this year's The Tree of Forgiveness - but not in sequence - along with many of the best tracks from Prine's songbook.

The Del McCoury Band (3) at Sugarloaf Mountain Amphitheatre, Chillicothe, Ohio, July 8: Despite fronting and giving ample spotlight time to his band, Del McCoury was the obvious star of this show, his acoustic guitar cutting through the music every time such a riff was necessary, and his voice hitting high notes most men can’t reach in their 30s let alone on the cusp of their 80s. He was in a playful mood and granted so many requests, he good-naturedly stumbled over lyrics to long-dormant tracks such as “40 Acres and a Fool” and “Blackjack County Chains.”

Huffamoose (2) at Ardmore Music Hall, Ardmore, Pa., Nov. 24: At the Ardmore, the Philadelphia-based Huffamoose played a triumphant, 17-song, 105-minute set just outside its hometown that featured cuts culled from its four LPs - its long-out-of-print, self-titled debut (on the local 7 label) and ’97’s We’ve Been Had Again along with the two most recent ones - and demonstrated that although much has changed, much has remained the same. This was the rare comeback concert where the words “we’re gonna do a new one” weren’t bad news.

David Byrne at Rose Music Center at the Heights, Huber Heights, Ohio, Aug. 11: Whether David Byrne is a simpleton masquerading as a genius, or - more likely - an intellectual hiding behind inane lyrics, the former Talking Heads frontman is nevertheless quite impossible to figure out even after 40 years of pouring himself out with his music. And Byrne is perhaps the only musician who can sing about donkey dicks (“Every Day is a Miracle”) and “Toe Jam” and somehow not come off as a cretinous moron.

Taj Mahal (5) Trio at Thirty One West, Newark, Ohio, Sept. 22: Playing a resonator guitar and with his solidly in-the-pocket rhythm section - the Taj Mahal Trio, ladies and gentlemen - right with him, Mahal got things going with a double greeting of sorts, playing rock-infused versions of "Good Morning Little Schoolgirl" and "Good Morning Miss Brown" back to back. These set the tone for an uproarious evening of song in which Mahal played the blues on his banjo and hollow-bodied electric guitar, played reggae on his ukulele, played folk on his resonator, played boogie-woogie on his piano and played rock 'n' roll on his acoustic guitar.

James Taylor (12) & His All-Star Band with Bonnie Raitt (2) at Schottenstein Center, Columbus, Ohio, June 30: It’s not only Taylor’s catalog, but his presentation, that keeps fans coming back decade after decade. Not only does he switch up songs from tour to tour, he also tinkers with arrangements to keep things fresh. Raitt’s show would’ve been disappointing as a stand-alone concert. But as an entree to Taylor’s portion, it fit nicely.

Toubab Krewe (2) at Thirty One West, Newark, Ohio, Nov. 26: The five-man rhythm section known as Toubab Krewe took concertgoers on an aural journey that lifted off from Newark and went 'round the world during a stupendous, all-instrumental concert inside Thirty One West. It takes serious chops and exceptional song craft to hold an audience's attention for two solid hours while never singing a word. Toubab Krewe have both and both were in full flight Nov. 26 in Newark.

Dead & Company (7) at Blossom Music Center, Cuyahoga Falls, Ohio, June 20: If Dead & Company wanted to prove something with their 100th show, they did. They proved that they are finally & truly a band - a band capable of putting together complete, knockout shows, rather than throwing a few solid punches surrounded by the musical equivalent of rope-a-dope.

Alison Krauss (4) at Fraze Pavilion, Kettering, Ohio, June 15: If the term Americana means anything, Alison Krauss is defining it on her solo tour in support of Windy City, on which she and her seven-piece band touch on virtually every type of music a group could possibly cram in to 90 minutes of stage time. Throughout the evening, Krauss accentuated the music with clipped chords and short runs on her fiddle. Though she was clearly the star, she happily allowed her bandmates to shine just as brightly as she did and seemed genuinely flattered to have each of them along for the ride.

Marty Stuart & His Fabulous Superlatives at Memorial Hall OTR, Cincinnati, Ohio, March 30: Stuart and the Fab Supers were terrific. Ostensibly a country band, they’re equally adept at playing rock ‘n’ roll, rockabilly, surf music, honky tonk, folk and bluegrass and did all that and more exceedingly well for a near-sell-out crowd that was as energized as the music itself.

Steep Canyon Rangers (7) at Midland Theatre, Newark, Ohio, Feb. 2: The Rangers spent two generous hours running through tracks new and old in a concert that ended with an enthusiastic standing ovation that caused guitarist Woody Platt to suggest we all follow them to the next gig in Chicago.

The Avett Brothers (2) at Fraze Pavilion, Kettering, Ohio, Aug. 14: The Avetts made Sound Bites cry as band donned at least 10 musical guises over the course of its staggering, two-hour, 10-minute show. From the first note in daylight at 8 p.m. sharp to the final bows in darkness, shortly after 10, the audience was on its collective feet, singing along to nearly every word, as the band held them rapt with its eclectic mix of county, folk, classical, rock and even a bit of prog that featured cello solos, bowed bass, rhythm banjo, piano-cello duets, screeching guitars and lengthy pieces that featured piano and organ a la the Band.

Larry Campbell & Teresa Williams (3) at Woodlands Tavern, Columbus, Ohio, Feb. 28: The couple set the standard early, opening with the Carter Family’s “You’ve Got to Righten that Wrong” before moving into their own “Surrender to Love.” Historical and contemporary. Universal and personal. It was a pattern that would continue all evening as Campbell on guitar, mandolin and fiddle, laid down a bed for the pair’s luxurious harmonies and Williams’ occasional rhythm guitar and shakers and made Sound Bites wonder yet again why Larry Campbell & Teresa Williams are playing bars to scores of fans instead of playing arenas to thousands.

Phil Lesh & Friends (14), Hawaii Theatre, Honolulu, Hawaii, Dec, 31, 2017: This show counts because one-third of it took place on Jan. 1, 2018, and because it was the best Dead-related concert Mr. and Mrs. Sound Bites had seen in ages as Lesh covered not only his former band, but Funkadelic, the Band, Velvet Underground and others.

Los Lobos (17) at Rose Music Center at the Heights, Huber Heights, Ohio, Aug. 7: Los Lobos are so hot, they can parlay a short-handed opening set into a standing ovation from a half-full house of George Thorogood partisans, who found themselves cheering the band from East L.A. as if they were the second coming of the Destroyers.

Richie Furay at Natalie’s Coal Fired Pizza and Live Music, Worthington, Ohio, Aug. 12: Richie Furay - best known as the Buffalo Springfield vocalist/guitarist not named Stephen Stills or Neil Young - plumbed the Springfield, Poco and Souther-Hillman-Furay Band songbooks during an acoustic set that followed an afternoon show earlier in the day. Daughter Jesse Lynch joined Dad on vocals and tambourine on all but the opening salvo of Poco’s “Pickin’ up the Pieces” and Springfield’s “Sad Memory.” At 74, Furay looks and sounds 20 years younger with a full head of salt-and-pepper hair, a life of clean living on his face and a voice that still shows why producers tapped him to sing Young’s songs with Springfield.

Todd Rundgren’s (37) Utopia (3) at Taft Theatre, Cincinnati, Ohio, May 10: Just as Utopia was essentially two bands, this was essentially two shows. Billed as Todd Rundgren’s Utopia, but featuring a four-piece reminiscent of the group that emerged after Rundgren’s proggy big band dissolved, the quartet of Rundgren, bassist/guitarist Kasim Sulton, drummer Willie Wilcox and last-minute replacement keyboardist Gil Assayas (who stepped in for the ailing Ralph Schuckett, who stepped in for the ailing Roger Powell), powered through a nostalgic - material ranged from 1972 to 1985 - 130-minute concert that served as a musical way-back machine for the Utopians in the two-thirds filled house. The arc of the band’s diverse songbook was on full display and as amazing as ever.

Todd Snider (10) at Stuart’s Opera House, Nelsonville, Ohio, June 22: An 80-minute, solo-acoustic performance that was both musically and comedically pleasing, as Snider combined his insightful numbers - and a few choice covers - with split-your-sides-open stories that often appeared mid-song but somehow didn’t interrupt the flow.

Elizabeth Cook (3) at Thirty One West, Newark, Ohio, May 16: Over the 80-minute solo set, Cook - who popped cough drops because of a cold but sounded healthy - mostly eschewed heartrending numbers like “I’m Not Lisa” and instead sung of an ex-husband who preferred beer cans to her can on “Yes to Booty;” the alcohol-fueled atmosphere she grew up around on “Stanley By God Terry;” recovery on “Methadone Blues;” and resilience on “Sometimes It Takes Balls to be a Woman.”

Cheryl Wheeler at King Arts Complex, Columbus, Ohio, March 24: Cheryl Wheeler was at turns funny, tender and socially conscious - but mostly funny - always folksy and 100-percent entertaining. We laughed - so hard we cried. And we looked forward to the next Cheryl Wheeler concert and the opportunity to hear the things we missed while doubled over in hysterics.

Los Lobos (16), Memorial Hall OTR, Cincinnati, Ohio, Jan. 25: Missing bassist Conrad Lozano, who was replaced, and multi-instrumentalist Steve Berlin, who was not, Los Lobos played an aggressive, one-set show that immediately erased any disappointment the absences might have caused.

Bettye LaVette at Jorma Kaukonen's Fur Peace Ranch, Pomeroy, Ohio, Oct. 13: Bettye LaVette was backed by guitar, bass, drums and keys/piano as she explored 12 back pages from all eras of Bob Dylan's songbook, from protest anthems to Christian declarations of faith, from well-known numbers to obscurities written between the 1960s and the 21st century. Indeed, the only person who might have rearranged these songs more radically than LaVette is Dylan himself.

Jorma Kaukonen (3) At Natalie’s Coal Fired Pizza & Live Music, Worthington, Ohio, June 13 (Early Show): There’s something refreshing about the way Jorma Kaukonen refuses to cash in on his legacy as a founder of the famed San Francisco sound with the Airplane. And as he played and sang his grizzled blues like a man walking the Mississippi Delta in the first part of the 20th century, it was again clear that Kaukonen chose the right path.

A-

Elton John (3) at Schottenstein Center, Columbus, Ohio, Nov. 2: If Elton John is really going to quit touring when his current trek ends - in 2021 - he’s going out in top form. From the first, teasing note of “Bennie and the Jets,” to the final, lingering sounds of “Goodbye Yellow Brick Road,” the musicians tinkered with arrangements just enough to keep things interesting for people who know these songs as well as they know anything. And if this is really farewell - and if "Yellow Brick Road" is really the last song 18,000 Columbus residents will ever hear John play live - it's a fond one.

Tedeschi Trucks Band (9) at Palace Theatre, Columbus, Ohio, Nov. 9: The 12-piece band begun its "An Evening With" show just after 8 p.m. with a 55-minute opening set that set the table for what came later. Singer Mike Mattison wailed the blues and crooned jazz when he joined Susan Tedeschi on incendiary renditions of "Key to the Highway" and "Right on Time," the front woman got introspective on Bob Dylan's "Going, Going, Gone" and the group wound up powering through yet another spell-binding concert of originals and covers that spanned the past 100 years of music and its myriad styles.

Todd Rundgren (38) at Express Live!, Columbus, Ohio, Sept. 12: Always unpredictable, Todd Rundgren is even more so when he tours as Unpredictable. On these occasions, he and his long-time band - guitarist Jesse Gress; former Tubes drummer Prairie Prince; Utopia bassist Kasim Sulton; and keyboardist Greg Hawkes of the Cars - work off a list of several dozen original and cover songs and play the ones that strike Rundgren's fancy on that particular evening. And on this night, the result was a wildly diverse, two-hour set of songs that bounced around nearly as much as Rundgren’s career itself.

Bruce Hornsby (9) & the Noisemakers at Columbus Commons, Columbus, Ohio, Aug. 24: Hornsby and his current band channeled the pianist's former band, the Grateful Dead, and their taking-the-music-for-a-walk ethos. Stretching it out is a way of life for Hornsby & Noisemakers, who played just 16 songs in 130 minutes.

Roger Daltrey Performs the Who’s Tommy at Fraze Pavilion, Kettering, Ohio, July 2: On a stage packed full of musicians, Daltrey, the Dayton Philharmonic Orchestra and members of the Who’s touring band played Tommy front to back. And they played the shit out of it. The Philharmonic was a fully integrated part of the show, kicking off the concert with “Overture” as it’s always been meant to be heard; turning “Tommy Can You Hear Me” into a whimsical pops-concert moment; adding welcome flourishes to “Sally Simpson;” and filling “We’re Not Gonna Take It” with majesty.

Peter Rowan’s (2) Twang an’ Groove at Jorma Kaukonen’s Fur Peace Ranch, Pomeroy, Ohio, June 16: Once one of Bill Monroe’s Bluegrass Boys, a co-founder of Old & In the Way and author of classics including “Midnight Moonlight” and New Riders of the Purple Sage’s signature song, “Panama Red,” both of which were played toward the tail end of Set Two, Peter Rowan has been a part of some of bluegrass’ most-important 20th-century moments. He’ll be 76 on the Fourth of July, but his hands are still supple, his voice still able to climb to high-and-lonesome heights with his yodel intact, as his version of Jimmie Rodgers’ “Blue Yodel No. 3” demonstrated.

Dead & Company (6) at Riverbend Music Center, Cincinnati, Ohio, June 4, 2018: Anyone looking to understand why Dead Heads keep going back to see former Grateful Dead members year after year, decade after decade, needn’t look any farther than Dead & Company’s June 4 performance in Cincinnati. It was - by far, and until June 20 - the best of the half-dozen Dead & Company concerts Sound Bites has attended since the group came together in 2015.

Steve Kimock (3) & Friends at Ardmore Music Hall, Ardmore, Pa., Nov. 23: “Were gonna sort of front-porch our way in to this,” Steve Kimock said as he and his Friends took the stage and cooked up an ethereal, post-Thanksgiving stew that slowly bubbled into the one-off band’s - which came together for a special Black Friday performance in the City of Brotherly Love - opening number, KIMOCK’s “Careless Love.” It was a show that satisfied like a second helping of turkey.

David Crosby & Friends (2) at Kent Stage, Kent Ohio, Nov. 28: David Crosby, Michael League, Becca Stevens and Michelle Willis came into Kent and over the course of an hour-and-40-minute performance proved themselves a top-tier acoustic/harmony group that, with the right setlist, could be a salve for those still mourning the loss of Crosby, Stills and Nash. But with only a few exceptions - excellent exceptions but too few nonetheless - the quartet stuck with 21st-century material, resulting in a concert that consisted of near-perfect execution of fair to very good songs.

Steve Earle (3) & the Dukes (2) at Newport Music Hall, Columbus, Ohio, June 10: Steve Earle is like an outlaw version of Bruce Springsteen, singing everyman songs with a left-wing political bent that’s sometimes so subtle, people will miss it if they’re not playing close attention. Also like Springsteen, Earle finds himself in the midst of a late-career renaissance, as a triad of fire-breathing tracks from 2017’s So You Wannabe an Outlaw were among the highlights of a career-spanning set that opened with a full performance of 1988’s Copperhead Road.

Hubby Jenkins at Jorma Kaukonen's Fur Peace Ranch, Pomeroy, Ohio, Oct. 20: This was a fascinating concert - musically, spiritually and intellectually. Prior to taking his audience to church in a gospel-heavy second set, Hubby Jenkins took them to school, using his brief, 45-minute first set to educate concertgoers not only about the African origins of the banjo he was playing but the evolution of African-American culture and stereotypes via slavery, the Black Codes and Jim Crow and the minstrel tradition.

An Acoustic Evening with Lyle Lovett (3) & Shawn Colvin (2) at Templeton-Blackburn Alumni Memorial Auditorium, Athens, Ohio, March 21: It was one-third Lyle Lovett, one-third Shawn Colvin and one-third the Lovett-Colvin comedy hour. Together, the three-thirds equaled an evening of well-rounded entertainment.

12/27/18

[howaminotinthestrokesyet]

Behind The Album: Appetite For Destruction

In July 1987, Guns N’ Roses released their debut album, Appetite For Destruction. The album would go on to become the biggest selling debut record in music history. Furthermore, it would be the 11th highest selling album of all time in the United States. The strange thing was that the record did not actually achieve this immediate success after its release. Its popularity was a very gradual growth that needed the help of singles, a tour, and music videos including their only number one hit “Sweet Child O’ Mine.” The record company, Geffen, did not do much in the way of promotion for the band, Critics at the time did not think very much of the album at first, but now they all agree that Appetite For Destruction now represents a classic album that changed music.

The recording sessions began in January 1987 as the band had signed with Geffen Records six months prior. They could have signed with Chrysalis Records for twice the money, but they would not give them complete artistic freedom. For their part, Geffen Records did not have very much faith in the album anyway pushing the band to release the EP Live ?!*@ Like A Suicide the previous December. The executives did not feel that GNR had enough material to make a full album, but they did not want to miss out on the buzz that was building about their live shows. Most of the tracks for the album had been written while playing their club shows primarily in LA from 1985-1986. As stated previously, they produced a wealth of material that actually went on their other albums, G N’ R Lies and Use Your Illusion I and II. For example, “November Rain” was seriously considered for this album, but they only wanted one ballad on there, which became “Sweet Child O’ Mine,” a love letter to Axl’s girlfriend Erin Everly. The band considered several producers to record the album including Paul Stanley of Kiss and Mutt Lang, who had produced Def Leppard. The rejection of Lang really came down to the producer being too expensive. The first producer they worked with, Spencer Proffer, actually recorded nine tracks with the band, but he was ultimately rejected. They finally chose Mike Clink, who had produced several records by the band,Triumph. The album would be mostly recorded at Rumbo Studios in the San Fernando Valley. One of the reasons for this decision represented the fact that the location was away from Los Angeles, which meant the band members could focus a lot more on the music. The distractions of sex and drugs were problematic from the very beginning. The record company from the time they were signed began to fear that the band would not be around long enough to record any album because one of them was probably going to die very soon. Recording was slow at first because Slash needed to work on perfecting the guitar sound for the album. Once he got that down, the album still took quite a bit of time because Axl Rose demanded that his vocals only be recorded one line at a time. Steven Adler would later say that his drum tracks only took six days. As Axl gradually recorded his vocals, the rest of the band stayed completely away from the studio to let him work. A good number of the tracks for the album had actually been written when band members were in other groups. “Rocket Queen” had been a song written by Duff McKagan, Slash, and Stephen Adler when they had the group, The Road Crew. The song “Anything Goes” had been a Hollywood Rose tune. The lyrics reflected personal experiences of the band members. The song, “Welcome to the Jungle” came from Axl hitchhiking to New York. A homeless stranger came up to him upon arrival and said, “Welcome to the jungle you’re gonna die, man.” The song, “Out To Get Me” had been based on Rose’s troubles with the police that essentially forced him to leave Lafayette, Indiana to avoid prosecution. The song, “Mr. Brownstone was a direct reference to their seemingly full-time pastime of doing heroin. The song” “Paradise City” was written just after a disastrous trip to Seattle for one of their first tours. They had been left stranded on the way there needing to ditch much of their equipment just to make the tour. Paradise City emerged as a reference to Los Angeles upon their return.

GNR needed to battle the record company over the original cover art for the album. They had wanted an image of a robotic rapist being punished by a metal avenger, but record stores said they would not sell the album. Band members would later say that the robotic rapist was a symbol for the industrial system polluting our environment. Sometimes when it comes to Guns N’ Roses, you simply could not make this stuff up. A compromise was finally reached to allow the image to be included on the insert. The cover of the album, which is now iconic actually originated from a tattoo Rose had gotten the year before. Along with his tattoo artist, the singer would receive most of the credit for that logo. A little known fact emerges in that the knot symbol in the cross on the logo was actually a reference to Thin Lizzy. Another creative difference that most people may not realize was that the record did not have an A and B side, but a G and R side. The G side represented songs that took on darker themes like drugs and violence, while the R side were the ones about love, sex, and relationships. Originally, Axl had wanted to have a picture of the Challenger space shuttle exploding as the cover of the album, but the record company refused because it would have been in extremely poor taste.

At first, nobody noticed that the album had even been released. For example, in August 1987 Appetite For Destruction was number 182 on the charts, but exactly one year later the album was number one. Author Stephen Davis said that competition from other groups like Aerosmith and Def Leppard at the time hindered the group's ability to effectively promote the album. Slash would recall, "We thought we'd made a record that might do as well as, say, Motörhead, it was totally uncommercial. It took a year for it to even get on the charts. No one wanted to know about it." Another thing that must be noted that absolutely helped the success of Appetite For Destruction was the music video for “Welcome To The Jungle.” MTV had refused to play the video until David Geffen from the record company requested that the channel play it. The video aired for the first time at 4 AM on a Sunday, but some people saw it that lead to a tremendous number of requests for the video. Surprisingly looking back now, but critics absolutely hated the album at first. Dave Ling of Metal Hammer said the band simply copied other groups like Aerosmith, Hanoi Rocks, and AC/DC, and not very well at that. Other critics believed that the band’s popularity could be wholly attributed to their embrace of sex and drugs in their lyrics. They felt the group was glorifying it at a time when America was suffering from the AIDS epidemic and the war on drugs. Now in retrospect, critics undoubtedly keep lavishing praise upon the album being a turning point as rock and roll turned away from hair metal and glam metal to hard rock. Many agree that it represented the best metal record of the late 1980’s, if not the entire decade. Ann Powers of Rolling Stone would write, it “produced a unique mix of different rock values, speed and musicianship, flash and dirt,” that "changed hard rock's sensibilities at the time." Christa Titus of Billboard also noted that overall Appetite For Destruction embraced multiple other sub genres besides what would become hard rock. The album had, “metal's forceful playing, punk rock's rebellious themes, glam metal's aesthetic, and bluesy guitar riffs that appealed to purists." As other critics brought up that the record was more in line with The Rolling Stones and Aerosmith in the 1970’s, rather than any current band. In 1999, Axl Rose with all new members of Guns N’ Roses re-recorded the entire album. His reasoning had been to utilize new recording technology to improve upon the master. This new version was never released to the public, except for the second half of the song, Sweet Child O’ Mine which can be heard in the credits for the film, Big Daddy. In 2018, the band released a deluxe version of the album including early demos recorded at Sound City, Live ?!*@ Like a Suicide remastered, and early versions of the tracks that would eventually land in some form on Use Your Illusion I and II.

[theydontknowaboutusimagines]

Outside the Rain - Harry Styles Series (Part 1)

“Love is a word I’ve been trying to find” 

The closer you got to the venue, the higher your nerves got. There was a churn in your stomach as the driver pulled into the back parking lot to drop you off at the stage doors. That night you had a performance, something you’ve done practically you’re whole entire life. You’ve been surrounded by the tour life and musicians ever since before you could walk. Performing up on stage in front of an audience was something you lived for.

Nothing in the world made you happier than standing up on stage and singing your music. So, why were you about to blow chunks over this particular one? Well, because it wasn’t any performance. It was an elite and special performance. You were performing at the Rock ‘N Roll Hall of Fame Induction Ceremony with none other than Stevie Nicks. 

Or as you like to call her Aunt Stevie. 

See, your father plays the drums in Stevie’s band, which means you’ve grown up with her being in your life and plus she’s your Godmother. Being the daughter of musicians, you were constantly on tour with someone. Whenever Stevie was touring with Fleetwood Mac or not touring, your father was touring with other bands. 

However, you didn’t really connect with anyone else the way you did with her. 

The bond you two shared was indescribable. She helped you through so much, especially in your teenage years. Your first heartbreak, your first experience of puppy love, etc. Hell, she was basically the reason you were where you were in your life. 

At the age of three, the first time you can remember a show, is when you decided you wanted to be on stage. In fact, you actually did just that. You were standing at the side of the stage during one of Stevie’s shows. It was a smaller venue because it was more of a pop up show than a full on tour. Your mother was talking to someone else backstage, while you were staring at your Aunt Stevie the entire time. 

You didn’t even acknowledge your own father at the drums even though he was at a closer vantage point. At this point, Stevie was talking to the crowd about the next song, and as soon as the opening of the song started playing, you found yourself going out on stage. It was like your feet just sort of took over before the rest of you could react, but then again you were only three. 

The song was ‘Edge of Seventeen’ and you started dancing alongside of her and as soon as she noticed you, pulled you closer and the rest was history. Anytime you were at a show with her, you would come out and perform that song with her. 

And tonight wouldn’t be any different. Except, it was very different. It wasn’t just  a show in front of Stevie Nicks fan, although you were sure everyone in that building would technically be her fan. But it was also in front of a mountain of legends, Rock legends... and well, you were far from a rock legend. 

You started a career in the music industry at the age of fifteen with a group of your closest friends back home. You four formed a popular girl band that was super successful. You traveled all over the world, met tons of new people, sold millions of copies of each of your four records. 

But then it got to be to much, so you each decided on taking a break back in 2013. 

And it was a much needed break. 

However, being surrounded by music your whole life, you couldn’t get it out of you. You tried doing other projects like working with brands and designers and doing a few acting jobs, but nothing gave you the same feeling as music. 

So, then you decided on adventuring on your own. And since then, you’ve produced two solo records, slightly different from one another. Your debut album was a mix of both pop and rock. While it was perfect for radio play, there was definitely some rock and alternative undertones mixed in. And your second album, that you released last year was a little more folky/country inspired with a little pop mixed in. 

Both of your albums went number one and you had very successful tours and you loved having all of the creative input on your music, but you did miss having your girls around. You missed putting on a huge performance, with dance breaks and just having a great ass time. 

Which is one reason you all were thinking about getting back together, something not even your families really new yet. 

But you couldn’t think about that right now because you had a huge, huge performance, oh and speech, to worry about. Yeah, so not only were you performing, but you were also giving a speech to officially induct Stevie into the Hall of Fame. Writing the speech was easy. Like super easy, it’s the telling it part that you were nervous about. 

And it sort of didn’t help that you would be teaming up with someone else as well. When you found out that you would be presenting the award with Harry Styles, you didn’t know how to feel about it. You knew your Aunt was really close to him because she had talked about him quite a bit over the last few years, in fact, she’s actually tried to introduce the two of you countless times since she’s met him, but it never really worked out. 

The first time you would meet him would be at rehearsals and you had no idea how long or what he included in his speech, so hopefully you two would have time to compare before the show tonight. 

“There you are,” a loud voice came over the speakers from the stage. 

You looked up, seeing your godmother, smirking at you. 

“I got a little distracted on the way in,” you said taking your guitar out of it’s case. 

“Y/N, you’re going to do great. I don’t understand why you’re nervous,” she said walking over to you. 

“Yeah, we’ll of course you’d say that because your fucking Stevie Nicks,” you rolled your eyes. “Plus, this your night. A night you’ve earned.” 

“And you’re fucking Y/N and this is just as much your night as is it mine,” she said. “Besides this isn’t just my song now, it’s our song. It wouldn’t be right to perform it without you.” 

“Well, then what are we standing around talking for,” you joked. 

**

Harry was scrolling through his phone in the car as he was on his way to the venue. He still couldn’t get over the fact that he was not only performing with Stevie Nicks in front of countless rock legends, but that he also had the honor of presenting the award to her. That was an honor in itself. 

Harry was always looking forward to performing, but he still got nervous, especially over this one. He still had a lot to prove in regards to him being a rock musician. A lot of people still viewed him as Harry Styles from One Direction, which was fine, but he wanted people to take him and his music seriously. 

When he got to the venue, he could hear rehearsals had already started. The familiar sound of Edge of Seventeen coursed through backstage. He smiled as he took his guitar and headed straight to the stage doors. Harry wasn’t set for rehearsals for another half hour, but he couldn’t pass up this chance. 

Harry sat his guitar case down as he bobbed his head to he beat and quietly sang along. His gaze went straight to Stevie on stage, but it quickly adverted to the person next to her. 

Y/N. 

When it came to Y/N, he was quite the fan. He remembered dancing around with his sister Gemma to your music from your girl group and seeing them in concert at one of their shows in Manchester. There were plenty of times you both were present at the same award shows, especially when One Direction were in their prime, but he never got the chance to meet you. 

The day Stevie had asked him about performing and being the one to induct her, she also mentioned that she was having you participate as well. He would be lying if he didn’t feel himself blush at the mention of you being there. He knew how close you and Stevie were because she had always talked about you  in conversations. 

Seeing you up on stage, during the rehearsals, he could see just how close you two were and how amazing you. He couldn't wait to see the actual performance later that night. 

**

Once you were finished, you felt a little more relieved because rehearsals went great. As you were taking your guitar off, you noticed someone walking up onto the stage. You knew exactly who it was, Harry Styles. He and Stevie embraced and you sort of awkwardly stood to the side. 

“Y/N, come over here, I think it’s time for you and Harry to finally meet,” she laughed. 

You got up from putting your guitar back in its case and walked over. You held out your hand. 

“Nice to finally meet you,” you smiled. “She talks about you nonstop.” 

“Same here,” Harry smiled taking your hand. “And she talks about you as well.” 

“Lovely,” you joked. 

“You two sounded great,” he added. “I’m looking forward to seeing it tonight.” 

“Thank you,” you smiled. “Well, I uh better let you two get to your rehearsal. But uh, Harry, I don’t know if you have any plans after, but I uh, I was wondering if you maybe wanted to do a run through of our speeches?” 

“Yeah, sure. I’ll uh come find you once we’re done?” He asked. 

“Sounds good,” you smiled picking up your case and walking off the stage. 

**

Harry made his way to your dressing room backstage once he finished his own rehearsals. He was more than ready to get up on stage for this once in a lifetime opportunity, but he didn’t want to rush it either. He wanted to make sure he savored every minute, so while he couldn’t wait to get on stage, he was glad the show was still a few hours away. 

When he got to the door that had the printed sign with your name on it, he knocked softly before he heard a soft “Come in,” from the other side. He turned the doorknob pushing the door open. 

“Hey, is uh, this a good time?” He asked. 

“Perfect, I was just looking over what I wrote,” you smiled. “How did rehearsals go?” 

“It was fun. We sounded good and everything went smoothly. I hope tonight goes the same way,” he said. 

“I know exactly how you feel,” you said. “but if it helps, my Aunt Stevie thinks we belong on that stage next to her, even if we feel like we don’t. And honestly, I’m trying to tell myself that’s the only approval I need.” 

He laughed, “I’m telling myself that very thing. It doesn’t help that we’re both the youngest people here it seems like.” 

“True,” you laughed. “But luckily tonight’s not about us... so that helps take  little pressure off.” 

“Just a smidge,” he joked. 

You laughed, “Um, here have a seat. I have my speech written out. I know we have to give it to the producers before showtime so they can put it on the teleprompter, but I wanted to maybe compare in case we have some similar parts, so we’re not repeating each other.” 

“Oh, yeah, good idea,” he nodded walking over to sit next to you on the small red couch. 

“So, basically um, I start off with some personal memories and moments...” you said. “Uh... actually if you want, you could just uh read it...”

“Oh, okay, yeah, sure,” he said. 

You handed him your journal and he read over it. Sitting there while he read it, you instantly regretted it because you were feeling super awkward. 

“Wow, that’s... amazing,” he said. “I’m a little self-conscious about my own speech now.”

“Sorry...” you laughed. 

“In comparison to my speech, I think they’re going to fit well together,” he said. “Yours is from a more personal side, which makes sense and mine, while there are some personal aspects to it, it’s more so talking about her as an artist and her career achievements. I have it on my phone, if you want to read mine.” 

Before you could answer, he took his phone out of his pocket holding it out in your direction. You nodded, taking it in your hand and looking it over. 

“Did your mom really say that?” You laughed once you were finished. 

“Still does, actually. All the time,” he joked. 

**

This was it. The performance was less than twenty minutes away. You were in your dressing room waiting for them to call you to the stage. You would be opening up the show with Stevie, which you knew the whole time, but now that it was time for it to happen, your nerves were back. It also didn’t help that you watch the stupid live-stream of the red carpet while you were getting your hair and makeup done seeing exactly who was going to be in the audience. 

Yes, it didn’t really matter, but that didn’t help your nerves at all. There was a knock on your door before it opened it. You looked up in the mirror to see your Aunt standing there. 

“I figured I’d find you in here,” she said. 

“Because you knew I’d be freaking the fuck out?” You mumbled. 

“Yes, because you’ve always done this,” she said. “Before any big show, you always second guess yourself and your talent. You constantly reassure yourself, you’re fine, but you’re not.” 

“You’re right, I’m not,” you groaned. 

“Okay, sit down. I’ve got work to do,” she said. 

You sighed sitting down on the couch and looking at her. 

“When they told me I was being inducted, they told me to chose which songs I wanted to perform. Out of all of my songs, I chose Edge of Seventeen as the first song, do you know why?” She asked. 

“Because it’s a great song...” you said.

“No, because that song reminds me of you. Ever since you walked out on the stage as a three year old little girl, that became your song for me. I know it was quite a few years ago, but do you remember how you felt that night on the stage?” She asked. 

You nodded, “I didn’t really have a care in the world. I just wanted to be on stage next to you.” 

“Exactly, so take that feeling up with you on stage tonight,” she smiled. “Along with this...” 

She grabbed the bag, you didn’t realize she had, and took out a black hat.

“Is that-” you asked. 

“I want you to have it,” she smiled. “And I’m glad it goes perfectly with your outfit.” 

Your lips pulled into a smile as you wrapped your arms around her, “I love you.” 

“I love you, too,” she smiled. 

**

Since Stevie was opening the show, Harry stood side stage to watch the performances before he was due on stage. The audience went wild as soon as the opening notes started playing and Stevie appeared on stage. You were standing next to her, playing guitar and singing along. You were wearing a black velvet blazer with a lace bralette underneath, paired with matching flared pants with a light pink accent inside the flares and black heeled boots.

 You were also wearing a black hat, something Harry instantly recognized. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you as you performed. There was a smile across your face the entire performance and even though he had his own performance in less than ten minutes, he was a little sad when the song was over. 

Stevie quickly embraced you at the end of the performance, kissing your cheek. You smiled pulling away and clapping for her before making your way off the stage. When you came down the steps, you saw Harry standing there in a bright blue velvet suit. 

“You fucking killed it,” he said. “Wow. I think I should have gone first, you’re a bloody natural.” 

“Thank you,” you smiled taking a sip of water. “But don’t worry, you’ll get it done.” 

He smiled and the two of stood side by side while you watched the other performance. 

**

When it was time for Harry to go up on stage, you watched the whole thing. You were blown away. You knew the two of them had performed together previously, but this was the first time you were witnessing it first hand. 

After his performance, Harry joined you backstage again. He took a few gulps of water while you two waited for your speeches. 

“I think Tom Petty would be proud,” you stated. “You really did a great job honoring him.” 

A pink tint flushed his cheeks, “T-thank you,” he smiled. 

“Y/N, Harry, you’re on in five minutes,” one of the producers said. 

You both nodded, “Ready to do this?” You asked. 

“More than ready,” he smiled. 

You both were standing backstage waiting for your cue. When it was time, Harry offered his arm to you, you smiled wrapping your hand around it before the two of you walked out on stage. 

“First I would like to say, what an honor it is to be here tonight. To celebrate this amazing achievement for the one and only Stevie Nicks. But she isn’t just Stevie Nicks to me. She’s Aunt Stephanie. I’ve had the honor and blessing to grow up with her by my side. Because of her, I’m not only the person I am today, but also the musician I am today. 

It was at one of her shows, that I discovered that this is where I wanted to be, up on stage in front of thousands of people, telling a story through music. Because that’s exactly what she did and still does, I might add. She was more than just apart of my family, she was also a friend. Someone I could always go to whenever I needed someone. 

The very first song I learned on guitar was Landslide. I remember when I played it for her after hours and weeks of practice, I was so excited, yet nervous because I wanted her to like. I wanted her to have faith in me. So, I played it for her around bonfire we were having in the backyard of my parents house. I was seven years old, holding a guitar that was bigger than me. 

When I was finished, I quickly looked to her for approval and her exact words were, “It was okay, but you could do better.” Now, I know what you all are probably thinking, but it wasn’t meant in that way. She meant that I needed to make the song my own. Yes, she wrote it and it was her song, but if I was going to sing it, I needed to make it my own. 

Of course, at seven years old I had no clue what that meant exactly, but I was determined to figure it out. So, everyday for the next few weeks, I locked myself in my room and did everything I could to “make it my own.” 

And I never did. Not until she told me to stop worrying about what she thought or just focus on what I felt when I heard the song. 

See that’s the thing with my Aunt Stevie, she was never one to focus on herself. She always tries to help others find their best self. She taught me so many things, not just with music, but in life and how the two coincide together. 

When I wrote my first song, I remember she told me that you want to tell a story. You want to give the song a meaning. You want to touch not only other people who listen to your music, but also yourself because if you don’t love and feel a connection with your creation, then nothing else matters. 

And she said the same thing to me tonight. I won’t lie to you and say that being here tonight isn’t scary or a little daunting. And hell, tonight isn’t even about me, but she made sure I was okay. She made sure that I knew I was good enough to be standing next to her. 

So, yeah, all the amazing things she’s done over her career may have gotten her this amazing honor, but she’s more than just musician. She’s an absolute fucking legend, both as a musician and a person. 

Aunt Stephanie, I, along with everyone else Welcome you to the Rock ‘N Roll Hall of Fame for the second time,” you smiled. 

Applause took over the room. Harry walked up to the microphone and laughed, “Um, I think I’m just gonna go after that one,” he joked. 

You laughed standing back a bit while Harry gave his speech. The audience was captivated the entire time and laughed at the bit about his mother. When his speech was over, Stevie walked over and you both handed her the award. She smiled hugging both of you tightly before walking over to the microphone, while you and Harry stood to the side to give her, her moment. 

**

Backstage there were tons of press and interviews, you had do, once that was over, you went back to your dressing room. You took off the hat and drank some water, when heard someone knocking on your door. 

“It’s open,” you said turning to face the door. 

Harry poked his head, “Hey, sorry to bother you, but uh, I uh... I was going to grab some dinner with some friends in a bit and I wanted to uh, give you an invitation if you would like to join.” 

“Oh, uh, um, sure, give me like ten minutes?” You asked. 

“Perfect,” he smiled before leaving. 

You looked back in the mirror and touched up your makeup and hair before grabbing your things and heading out. 

“There’s my girl!” You heard your dad say when you walked out of the room. 

“Hey, Dad,” you smiled hugging him. “You still good? You’re not gonna like pass out or anything?” 

He rolled his eyes, “I’ve been doing this before you were even born.”

“Exactly,” you laughed. 

“So, I was thinking we could grab a bite to eat before heading back to the hotel. Stevie’s coming, she’ll be ready in a bit,” he said. 

“Um, actually, I have plans,” you said. 

“Oh, you do?” He sounded surprised. 

“Um, yeah, Harry, invited me out to dinner with some of his friends,” you said. 

“He did... I didn’t know you knew him,” he said. 

“Well, I mean, tonight’s the first night I’ve met him,” you said. 

“And he’s already asking you out for dinner,” he raised an eyebrow. 

“Oh my god, it’s not like that,” you rolled your eyes. 

“Let her go, Y/Dad’s/Name,” Stevie said from behind him. “It’s just dinner besides they need some time to talk, get to know each other.. you know.” 

Both you and your dad looked at her. 

“What?” She asked. 

“Are you trying to play matchmaker with my daughter?” Your dad asked. 

“Go have a good time, Y/N. Now, let’s go, I’m starving,” she said walking past you and your father without answering the question. 

“Just let me know when you get back to the hotel,” he said. 

You laughed nodding, shaking you head before going to find Harry. 

**

On the ride to the restaurant, you two talked about the events of the night and other little small talk conversation topics. When you got there, you both walked in and saw a table with a quite a few people. The only two chairs that were left, were right next to each other, so you and Harry sat down. 

“Hey, everyone, this is Y/N. Y/N, these are my friends,” Harry smiled. 

“We have names,“ Jeff smirked. 

You laughed, “Nice to meet you,” you smiled. 

You took the menu and skimmed over it before deciding on what to order. Everyone at the table was having their own conversations, so you looked over at Harry. 

“So, I feel like I should probably tell you this, but I have a feeling my Aunt is trying to hook us up,” you laughed. 

“You got that feeling too?” He laughed. 

“She basically admitted to it,” you laughed. “And when I saw admitted, it was more of by omission. She changed the subject when my Dad brought it up.” 

He laughed, “Just so you know that’s not why I invite you here tonight. I did that on my own accord.” 

“You did, did you?” You smirked causing him to blush. 

“I did,” he nodded. 

You smiled tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Are you staying in New York long?” 

“Just another day. I’m flying out the day after next,” he said. “You?” 

“Actually, staying a few more days. I have some meetings,” you said. 

“Oh, are you working on a new album?” He asked. 

“Sort of,” you laughed. “There’s a little bit a discussion going on.” 

“That sounds.. interesting,” he said. 

“I’d give you more details, but I don’t have them myself,” you laughed. 

Harry was just about to say something when you heard a familiar voice call out your name. You looked up, past Harry and saw one of your closest friends, who actually was also your ex-boyfriend from when you were a teenager. 

“Joe?” You smiled. 

You stood up from the table, walking over to him. “What are you doing here?” 

“Me and Sophie were just having dinner, when I saw you. Thought I’d come by and say hi,” he said. 

“I’m glad you did,” you smiled hugging him. 

“Hey, the Hall of Fame thing was tonight, right? How’d that go?” he asked. 

“It went,” you laughed. “It was fucking everything, at least I think so.” 

“Well, you kill it every time,” he smiled. 

“Oh, let me introduce you,” you said. “Joe this is Harry Styles, Harry this is Joe Jonas.” 

“Oh, hey man,” Joe said holding out his hand. 

“Hey,” Harry nodded shaking his hand. 

Joe looked over at you smirking, “Fuck off,” you mumbled. 

He laughed, “Anyway, I’ll let you get back to your date... I mean dinner. Text me later?” 

“I hate you,” you rolled your eyes. 

“If only,” he joked. “Bye,” he waved to Harry before walking away. 

“Sorry about that,” you said sitting back down. 

“No, it’s okay,” he smiled. “Their new record’s pretty good.” 

“Yeah, I’m glad they’re back,” you smiled. “I think they’re doing a show tomorrow night, would you want to go with me?” 

“Um, sure, I don’t think I’ve got anything planned,” he said. 

“Okay, I’ll send you the details later,” you smiled. 

“Is that your way of asking me for my number?” He smirked. 

“Damn, you got me,” you giggled. 

He laughed, “Hand me your phone?” 

You took it out of your purse and handed it to him. He quickly added himself as a contact in your phone before handing it back to you. You smiled opening up  new message and sending him a smiling face emoji. 

“There now we both have each other’s numbers,” you smiled. 

**

Over an hour had passed from getting your food and finishing it. You didn’t realize how long you all had been at the restaurant until you got a text from your dad. 

Still Alive? 

Are any of us really alive?

Drunk?

On a scale of sober to Mom at Bradley and Max’s wedding, I’m like somewhere in the middle. 

So, you’re like normal drunk. 

Sure. Let’s go with that. 

Do I need to come get you? 

Dad, I’m joking! I’ve only had like one drink and I didn’t even finish it. We’re finishing up here, I’ll be back at the hotel soon. Promise. 

His hotel or your hotel. 

SERIOUSLY. CAN YOU NOT. 

Hey, I’m just asking questions here. 

Questions you don’t need to know the answers too. But if you must know. MY hotel. 

Good answer. I’m going to bed. Good night and I love you. 

Oh and I’m proud of you tonight. Good job.

Thanks Dad. I’ll see you at breakfast in the morning. Goodnight. 

“Everything okay?” Harry asked. 

“Oh, yeah, but I should probably get going. I didn’t realize how late it was getting and I’ve got a meeting in the morning,” you said. 

“Of course, let me get you car,” he said. 

“Oh, no that’s okay. I can get it,” you said. 

“It’s fine, I need to get one too anyway,” he smiled. 

“Okay,” you agreed. “But I’ll get you one for tomorrow night.” 

He laughed,”Sounds good.” 

 After a few more minutes, your cars had arrived outside of the building. You two both headed out the door, when you saw that there were not only paparazzi there, but also fans waiting outside. They all screamed when they saw both you and Harry, so you both walked over to them. 

You each took a few photos and signed some things before heading saying goodbye and heading out to your cars. Harry gave you quick hug before opening the door for you and getting in his own car. As few moments after your car had pulled away, you got an alert on your phone. 

I had a really great time tonight. Looking forward to seeing you again, H.

You bit your lip trying to hide the smile threatening to cross your lips. You didn’t want to jinx it or say anything too quickly, but it appeared that Aunt Stevie just might get her wish granted. 

**

Thoughts? 

Should I continue?

What are some things you want to see happen? 

Also, do you like the voting idea, where every now and then I’ll ask for you all to decide what happens next and then surprise you with the outcome? 

Let me know! :)