#wendy is the one who was brought on an adventure and told to play mother

[noctfury]

Retelling Peter Pan and focusing on:

Peter ❌️

(Overdone, no one has anything new to say)

Hook ❌️

(Been there done that, he's fun but shallow)

Tinkerbelle 😉

(Disney I am begging you to make more movies could be interesting, most interpretations of her character don't get center focus.)

Literally any side character ⭕️

(Lots of room to explore! Pirates! Lost boys! Neverland locals! You don't see this much, and likely because it requires a lot of narrative skill to make work...)

Wendy ✅️

(Literally the protagonist, often sidelined as Peter or Hook take the spotlight and treated as narrative grease. Give me more Wendy-centric tellings! She has the potential to be the most complex character in the story!)

[cordycepsfem]

Play With It

So I'm reading this book, Crap: A History of Cheap Stuff in America, by Wendy A. Woloson, mostly because I'm fascinated by collectors and how things like Beanie Babies and Precious Moments figurines became huge in the market. I just started the chapter on novelties, gag gifts, joke things like exploding cigars - you know the stuff.

And I was not expecting genuine exploration of "gendered stuff" in this book, but there it was, and damn, was it a punch in the chest. It made me realize exactly why I'd always hated pranks.

In the 1883 book Peck's Bad Boy and His Pa, George Peck argued that the "best" boys are "full of tricks." He explained, "Those who are the readiest to play innocent jokes... are most apt to turn out to be first-class businessmen." Pranking showed a high-spiritedness, a willingness to take risks, and most important, the drive to show oneself as top dog. Perpetuating practical jokes on each other was a way for the best and the brightest to establish hierarchies within bonded groups in the guise of good-natured fun.

The pranks themselves were violations; the "conspiracy" that brought about public embarrassment made them doubly so. The point of performances with theaters of aggression was to distinguish the people who were in on the joke - witnesses and collaborators - from the humiliated, who were not... Likewise, boys could have fun "scaring your mother, uncle and aunts and the neighbors" with the Tarantula (a.k.a. Mexican Spider). Just when the "victim" was starting to smile, a button on the Royal Novelty Company's Squirting Camera could be pushed, releasing "a good squirt of water." "Boys, this is the very best joke and causes no end of fun and laughter," the company promised... The "fun commenced" with the Girl Catcher only after a girl inserted her finger into one end: "No matter how hard she pulls she cannot get away! The harder she pulls the tighter it holds. When you are ready to release her she can get her finger out easily, but not before." Jokes and gags of this sort created "disruptive" and "provocative" situations that ultimately reinforced the status quo... many jokes and gags involved a distinct gender component. Jokes like Girl Catchers and Squirting Cameras gave boys license to dominate girls as they would later dominate women. What was more, these jokes made girls complicit in their own humiliation, since perpetrators needed ready victims who, because of habits of politeness and deference, would have to be good sports. Although there was nothing preventing girls from buying and deploying novelty goods, they were told in so many ways that this was not their world. Humor and play belonged to boys more than them. Despite the promise of "fun for all," joke and gag articles were in truth a boy's (and man's) game, and pranking reinforced gender hierarchies. Boys (and men) did things while girls (and women) looked on. Further, boys (and men) had the power - physically, culturally - to do things to girls (and women)... pranking reinforced the widely held assumption that the fairer sex did not possess an innate sense of humor; women didn't even have a legitimate reason for engaging in humorous activities in the first place.

These small consumables opened boys to expansive worlds of limitless possibilities far beyond the confines of the home and its stifling domesticity. Merchandise evoking wonderment, curiosity, and acquisitiveness put within boys' reach, often quite literally, fun, exciting, new, and unapologetically frivolous experiences. In contrast, the toys available to girls prepared them for the domestic work they would be performing for the rest of their lives. Advertisements in girls' magazines dutifully promoted toys offering only inward-looking experiences... meanwhile, boys' literature... promoted toys and games that looked outward, toward adventure, the frontier, and anything else that might seize the imagination.

More sophisticated jokes and gags were predicated on the prescribed roles of girls and women as domestic and domesticated caretakers. Doubly cruel, they not only reinforced women's inferiority but also exploited their submission for a laugh. Women's caretaking sympathies made them susceptible to gags like the false ear bandage and the false chipped tooth. Likewise, their charge to maintain a clean household provided the fodder for many fake ink spills on fine linens... Because an imitation cigarette pretended to obliterate a woman's careful work and ruin her furnishings, it was, apparently, hilarious. The humor of novelties was not just "transgressive" and "subversive." It was also mean-spirited and corrosive, used to demean and embarrass, "at the expense" of someone else. ... perpetrators of jokes needed not just gag and pranks but also victims to serve as the "butt" of the joke.

How many of these things are still with us today? The notion that "women aren't funny." Or "she just can't take a joke."

The toy stores with their gendered aisles, providing dolls and toy houses and pretend kitchens with very obvious marketing to girls, while the aisles geared towards boys have cars and sports equipment and robots and spaceships and building blocks. Girls' toys are still made for them to "look inward," and boys' toys are still giving them the chance to "look outward." Even "girls" versions of Lego are pink and purple, because apparently we wouldn't want those girls to build anything too serious like a car or a rocket; their sporting equipment is covered in flowers or made by Mattel and rarely holds up to adequate sporting interaction.

I worked at a toy store for a period of time and only once did I have a parent specifically ask for, then purchase, a toy version of a pretend home good for a boy. It was a woman who wanted to buy a toy vacuum cleaner for her son, who was obsessed with the family's vacuum cleaner and wouldn't accept that he couldn't run it all the time. The general idea I got from her was that instead of being a normal adult who owns a vacuum and enjoys keeping their home tidy, she was hoping that her son might grow into a vacuum cleaner retailer, maker, or repairer. Even the "girls' toy" was "looking outward," simply because it was for a boy.

I had a lot of parents ask me for toys for girls that were "less" or "more" in many ways. Where are your dolls with more clothes on? With less makeup on? Do you have a doll that's not wearing a dress? Do you have it in a color that's not pink?

We haven't grown out of this since the 1880s. And I'm tired of the periodic regression that happens with toys. The Lego I used in the 1990's and early 2000's didn't have a purple or pink version. Every kid who bought Lego in the 1990s bought a bucket full of mixed colors. The ads looked like normal kids in their play-clothes - I'm sure you've seen them, because there's been a lot of talk about how the girl in them is dressed "like a boy." No, she's just dressed like a kid.

I looked today for that image and found something actually really amazing. My jaded heart thought that I would see ads from 2023 that had girls playing with the "girl" Lego only when I looked for recent content. Wow, was I wrong.

Lego took the original 1980's ad (bottom center) and used it to create the new ads for International Women's Day this year.

It's not as hard as it looks. We can have gender neutral toys that are still fun for all kids. Toys can just be toys. And if that appeals to you, there's a fantastic group in the UK begging toymakers and book publishers to do just that: Let toys be toys.

This was a whole mess of a ride, and I'm grateful if you got all the way through. It's important for me to know that in some way we've grown beyond gendered novelty, and that we'll continue to grow beyond gendered toys.

[thiscrazyfan]

The Leader

The only leader they can have, is Pan. There could be no other leader than him.

At first Wendy didn't noticed it. She was certian that this island, the island that free from rules and hierarchy, there was no need in an actual leader. She told herself that the boys are all behave, and that they are all happy here and do what they want.

When she started to notice that the boys do only what Pan wants, she told herself that it was because he was responsible. He was smart, and creative, and always came up with the best games to play. In her naivity she told herself that those were the traits that drawn the boys to him.

She started to notice that something was wrong when one of the new lost boys, Fred, offered that they'll go find a tresure. Pan imdytly got intrested and said he'll organized a search party that would find the best tresure in the world. Fred didn't said anything, but by the look in his eyes it was clear he was disapointed that he didn't got any credit. Feeling him, she turned over Pan and asked, "shouldn't Fred orgenaized the search party? I'm sure he wants to."

Fred's face light up like christmas tree. However, Pan looked directly at her. She didn't noticed that the boys around her all turned quiet, or the little smirk on Felix's face. Pan said, "Come again?"

"I think that Fred should be in charge on the search party."

"No, that's a stupid idea."

The way he said it, as if it was a fact, insulted Wendy. Why did he thought her ideas were stupid? She never critisissed him before. "Just let him be in chargerged this one time, it will be fun."

The redhead boy turned over to Fred. He looked at him directly, as if there was no one else in the island. He asked, "do you want to lead?"

Fred, the pure little soul that he was, nodd exited.

Still soer, Pan let him be in charged. Wendy was excited for Fred until the search party which the newly- lost- boy lead retuned without Fred, and Pan was the one who declared that his bad leadership got him dead. She cried for monthes after that, and it didn't helped that Pan reminded her, "it was your fault for encourage him to lead."

The next time was years later, when the mask started to sleep and she relized that not everything was as it seemed. She noticed that Felix helped one of the lost to improve his shooting skills. She watched how the other boys looked admirely at him and without thinking she said, "wow Felix, the boys really trust you."

Everyone stoped. Felix looked at her blaimingly. Suddenly she knew she had said something that was really, really wrong. Felix took a threatining step towards her and said, "I only do what any other lost boy would do."

"That's true," Wendy hurried to say, to fix it.

But Edgar, the newest and youngest lost boy, disagree. "That's not true Felix. You do beyond that."

Another lost boy shut him up right away, and Wendy was greatful. Pan was nowhere around and she had almost let herself to calm down when in the next day Felix is gone. She is paniced. Maybe she and Felix are not best friends, yet she didn't want him to die. She, Tootles, Slightly and the twins searched for him and Pan all around the camp. They all feared the worst and Wendy blamed herself for that.

Thankfully, they came back a few hours later. Felix had a new scar, nothing else bad. She made sure not to say ever again something about how helpful Felix was.

And whatever Pan and him had been through that day they were gone, it sank in. Felix stopped helping the other boys around. When they got hurt, when they needed something, there was no responsible lost boy to turn to. No older lost boy who knew how to shoot an arrow. No lost boy who came to disinfect their injured knees.

Wendy knew it can't last like this forever. If every lost boy would only have himself to take care of, they would be in troubles. Pan might be the leader, but he didn't cared enough to help them with all their little problems. Someone had to put an end to that.

So she was the one who helped. She learned how to shoot the target to teach the other boys how to shoot well. She learned how to make medicines from wild flowers and how to encourage the boys to go on adventures. She payed attention to them, and helped them whenever she could.

She couldn't tell when the change started exactly. One day she was all alone, doing her everyday tasks. The next day she barely had any free time for herself. The boys were starved for attention. They asked her all day, they wanted her to help them. They always wanted to know what was on her mind, what she had thought about their ideas and if she was proud at them.

Wendy really didn't thought that Pan would mind it. It wasn't like she had done something out of the ordinery. She just helped them as she could.

Maybe he really didn't cared. Not really. At least not until the day he offered that they would go to fight the pirates and Eddie, little Eddie, whispered, "what mom thinks of that?"

The boys all looked at her. Wendy felt ice swiming in her veins. Surly Eddie just got it a little mixed up. He just missed him mother so badly that he thought of her accidently as such.

And then Gabriel, who was just a little bit older asked, "yeah, what mom thinks?"

More and more mumbles repeated the question. The older boys, Rufio, Felix, Nibs and all those who watched it all before kept their mouth shut. It didn't made up for the other twenty boys who eagerly waited for her reply.

She could feel Pan's eyes on her. The memory of the day poor Fred died crossed her mind. She felt her lower lips shaken. Pan stood in front of her. His eyes drilled a hole into her soul. With the coldest voice she heard, he said, "very well, what mom thinks?"

Wendy wearked her mind in a way out of this question. She couldn't have let Pan know what she really thinks about fighting against pirates. She couldn't lie to him either, not when he knew all too well how much she hated those fights.

Her voice broke, "I think... that your leader knows what he is doing. He brought you're all hear safetly, to this wonderful land where you should never grow old. He always comes up with the best plan. I'm sure you all should listen to him."

Pan and her kept staring at each other. From the corner of her eyes she noticed that Nibs covered his mouth. It was probably look into snake's eyes.

Finally, Pan looked away from her. His lips quirk into a wild smile and he called, "you heard mom boys! Let's go fight the pirates!"

The boys all cheers. Rufio tapped on her back in cheer. Wendy was shocked. She did it. She passed the test. And she proved to Pan that she was not a threat to him.

That was what she thought. A few days later, after they won several battles against the pirates, Pan showed up behind her. He scared her so much that she almost lost her balance. Her reaction amused him. He said, "come with me."

Wendy was surprised. Not from the invatetion. From the tone he used. It was actually a more soft tone than she was used to hear him use. It almost sounded like a request. If he could request stuff. "Sure."

It wasn't like she had any choice.

He gave her his arm, and Wendy tried to ignore the little spark she felt when he did so. They held hands, such a grown- up thingy, and walked deeper into the woods. Pan had a seriuse expression on his face, one that Wendy not often had seen.

She wanted to ask him how was his victory, or tell him any other compliment that would make it easier for her. She couldn't. The next words should come from Pan himself. She waited paitently to open his mouth. Only when they were farther into the woods he spoke, "You really like the lost boys, right Wendy?"

Wendy bited her tounge. His question was so inecent, and yet Wendy knew she should be careful with her words. She looked at his boyish face and thought how misleading he looked. "Of course I like the lost boys. All of them."

"Hm-hm." He removed another bench from her way. How noble of him. "How much you like the lost boys, Wendy?"

"I- I like them a lot."

"A lot?"

"I- Yeah, a- a lot."

"Could you be more specific? I really want to know how much you like them."

She heard the edge in his voice when he said that word. Wendy felt her words escaping her. She had to come up with something to say, fast. "I'm- I'm-"

When he grabbed her shoulders, she sileneced. She let him pull her over one tree and press her back against it. She gasped. Pan smiled at her, his nails dugg into her flash hard. He said again, "go ahead Wendy, tell me how much you love them."

Dear god, this was the end. She would never see her brothers or her parents again. Wendy forced herself to look at him without blinking. She whispered, "I love them- very deeply. Very- very deeply."

Pan nodd, as if it was the answer he wanted. His nails cut her flash. "Would you say you love them... as a mother, loves her children?"

Obviusly not. She was a kid. She could not really love them as if they were her children. Well, what's worst? That they'll feel towards her parenting affection, or normal one? "I love them as a mother loves her children," she said the words quickly.

Pan removed one hand from her shoulder. She noticed he lowered it down to his side, close to where he put his dagger. "See, I'm a little... lost here, Wendy. How does a mother loves her children?"

If only she could run. Maybe if she'll scream someone would come to help her. But they'll have to fight Pan, and Wendy would never forgive herself if they'll get in troubles because of her. She said quickly, "A mother- a mother always thinks of what's good for her children. She reads them stories, and comfort them when they cry, and they can come to her if there is any trouble-"

She saw that his smile tighten. No, please no. "She can solves problem?" His hand touched the handle of his weapon.

"No- Well, yeah, but-"

"Kind of like a leader?"

In the real world, mom was her leader. But this was in another life. Better life. And Wendy knew from Pan's expression that she have to find another answer. She can't delete her words, she can't take them back. She worked her mind of what to say.

Right before Pan pulled out his dagger she squeezed, "she is secondery."

Pan stopped. He didn't let her go, but he looked at her lips. He was listening.

Wendy didn't knew if this was right. She didn't cared either. She had to come up with something. "Mom is always secondery. The real leader."

His eyebrows raised up. He pushed her harder against the tree. "And who-" he whispered in her ear, "-is the real leader?"

Her back hurt her. It was hard to think this way. "It's dad."

Pan's grip on her losen slightly. If he was surprised by her words, he didn't shown it. He repeated. "Dad."

"Yes. Dad is... He is the one that in charged on everyone."

She had his attention now. She noticed the way his lips moved up, the way that he smiled when he had thought about a new advanture. "What does dad do?"

"Dad is the one... He is in charged on the family. He tells everyone what to do. And there are problems mom can never solve, you know? So dad is the one that fix those for her."

Things that mom can't do, and he can. This thought is more like him. Gaining more cinfident, Wendy went on: "he is the strongest, the smartest, and the most important parent. Mom always have to listen to dad. And everyone loves him."

And that is the key sentence. She knew all too well how much Pan wanted to be loved.

His grip turned gentler now. The dagger had been forgoten. Pan thought about her words, considered her idea. The look he had was softer, and Wendy knew she was almost there.

He asked her, "And mom?"

"Mom loves dad more than anyone else in the world."

"Does she?"

"She does. She have to love him more than anyone. He is dad."

Pan likes that idea even more. She can see it. She feels it from Pan. He let her go from the tree and ofers her again his hand. "We should come back, they probably looking for us."

Wendy didn't said a word. Not when they come back, not when all the sudden the young lost- boys called pan "dad". Not when Rufio gave her that worried gaze, or when Nibs thanked heaven quietly that she came back.

She had never forget that dagger, and that Pan is the one true leader.

[radiorenjun]

my first and last || huang renjun

¤ pairing : huang renjun x reader

¤ genre : fluff, slight crack, major angst, romance, drama, slight fantasy! au, slight coming of age!au, first love!au, slight 1880s!au, adventure!au, painter!renjun x street singer!y/n. runaway!au

¤ synopsis :  Huang Renjun was born on the coldest day on earth, which causes his heart to be frozen solid, requiring a replacement. The makeshift Doctor, Madam Wendy, who provides midwifery and medical services to the poor and the desperate of Edinburgh, grafts a miniature cuckoo clock in order to save it.

However his newfound cuckoo clock heart was so fragile that it could end him in a terrible fate of death if he does not follow the three rules said doctor had provided for him. One of which was he must never fall in love. Do come and enter this adventure through Renjun’s eyes as he falls for a street singer who hates wearing glasses despite of her poor eyesight.

¤ warnings: character death, HEAVY angst, mentions of blood, loss of family member, reader has terrible eyesight and is painfully oblivious, Madam Wendy mentions about her abortion, maybe some swearing (do people even swear in the olden days?), historical inaccuracies is sexy, heartbreak, renjun is mentally exhausted, mentions of taking ones life (once), adults smoking, reader wears glasses at the end. shakespeare shaming because i have a grudge against that man. hISTORICAL INNACURACIES. Renjun gets slapped by Wendy once, renjun gets hypothermia. i feel like this was quite rushed idk

¤ word count : 29.2k

¤ heavily inspired by  La Mécanique du cœur (the movie, not the novel because I’m not that cruel)

¤ playlist: my everything - nct u, instagram - dean, wayo - bang yedam, francis forever - mitski mitski, anxiete - pomme, faded in my last song - nct u, line without a hook - ricky montgomery, moi cest - camelia jordana, my first and last - nct dream, beautiful time - nct dream, 

¤ a/n: special thanks to @lebrookestore​​ for making this sexy header

‘Love. What does that feel like?' Renjun would always wonder. 

As his paint brush strokes the canvas, eliciting a bright yellow mark on the object, Renjun continued to stare into his painting with a void of emotion. Whenever the occasional question 'what does it feel like to love or to be loved?' pops up in his mind, he would often furrow his brows and purse his lips in a small pout in confusion at the thought. 

Renjun didn't know what it felt like to love, for his caretaker, Madame Wendy, had always told him since he was a young boy that 'love is the last thing you need in this world, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal.' Renjun didn’t care much for the aspects of love. How can he fall in love when he doesn’t even know what love is? What does it feel like to feel love? How can you feel love?

If you take one small glance at Huang Renjun, you would instantly have the assumption that he was a rather cold-hearted, emotionless young boy. Eyes so icy cold and void of emotion, it could send shivers down your spine. Though, fortunately for everyone else, it was quite rare of the young boy to walk out of his home. Some might say that he would step out of his home ‘once in a blue moon’ or whenever the sun shone brightly over the old town, which was quite rare considering it had been raining frequently these past few months in Edinburgh, France.

However, what they didn’t know was that the reason behind his infrequent appearance was quite tragic. He was an unfortunate young boy, really. Only a few people have known this, but long long ago, a sudden harsh snowfall hit his town on the day he was born. It was recorded as the coldest day on earth, for the snow had frozen everything in its path including the poor boy’s heart. Quite literally, not figuratively. 

Renjun’s biological mother had journeyed through the cold town to the house up the steeple. Rumors say, the quote unquote ‘witch’ of the town, who specialized in the medical department with her own unique ways that left doctors skeptical and poor. From what his caretaker had told him, she was holding her belly throughout the long journey as she tried her best to endure the cold without slipping on the frozen concrete. Muttering how if she could, she would’ve kept her child in her tummy safe and sound from the cruel world. 

How she slipped and fell unconscious in front of his current caretaker’s house with her tears frozen on top of her cold cheeks, how she was brought in and taken in just in time to warm up to gain consciousness and go through the birth process. He remembered being told how the moment he was born, he had to undergo intense surgery immediately for he almost didn’t survive. He remembered being told that his heart had turned cold. 

“Cold, not Gold, Renjun. A heart made of ice. As in cubes not cream,” as his caretaker would say. 

Since donors weren't available at the time as it was already way past midnight, he needed surgery before his heart stopped beating under the hard exterior of the ice growing around his heart. Luckily for him, Madame Wendy had improvised one with her excellent expertise. She built a small clock the size of her palm that nearly covered his whole chest at the time. Considering she was known for being a witch in town, (even though she tried to explain a countless amount of times that she was a mere mechanic with a medical degree) she miraculously provided him with a fragile heart made from scratch. 

However, the night of his birth was also the night his mother had decided to leave him with Madame Wendy, convinced that she would make a better mother for Renjun that she could ever have. It was quite a tragic tale. However, Renjun didn’t think much of it. Nor did he feel any sort of upsetting emotions like longing, curiosity and sadness. Why would he? He doesn’t even remember what his biological mother had looked like. He doesn’t know how to feel anymore other than the faux happiness his mother had taught him how to feel to ease the numbing feeling in his hollow, ticking heart held nothing but dust. 

A heart that was purely made out of strong wood, cogs and screws. One that makes soft, calming tick tocks that goes along with the soft pitter patters of rain drops with every beat, one that makes cuckoo’s every time it’s arrow struck 12. One that needs winding every single day with a golden key his caretaker had provided him ever since he was born. One with ironically three rules that he should always follow on a day to day basis. 

-

“Recite those rules once again, Renjun,” she ordered as she buttons up her adoptive child’s white shirt up to his neck. “Do I have to? I’ve been reciting this for years now,” Renjun would whine, looking down at his mother’s loving hands as she flicked her forehead softly with a face void of emotion. “It’s for your own good, Renjun. I can’t have you forgetting something this important, you know very well that your life depends on these three rules.” She tugged on the collar of her child’s shirt down. 

“Before I let you run off to town with me, I prefer that your heart would be much stronger,” she swiped her fingers through Renjun’s hair, swefting it to the side to make it neat. “Every beat of your heart is a minor miracle. You’re a fragile piece of work, far more fragile than glass,” the older woman explained, laying her hands on the boy’s shoulder with a grim expression. “I know,” Renjun replied with a sigh, shrugging his shoulders to release tension in his body. 

He sighed again, the young boy looked up at the ceiling to avoid his mother’s cold stare. “Firstly, never touch the hands of my heart,” he began, letting out an annoyed sigh as he felt his mother tucking his small key into the pocket sewed on his chest. “Yes, what else?” Madame Wendy asked, kneeling down to look at the child in the eye. “Keep your temper under control,” they recited in unison with the same emotionless tone. 

“And the last one?” 

“Whatever I do, I must never ever fall in love.” 

“Indeed, that’s why I’m so scared of letting you into town. You haven’t experienced love yet so far in your life, it is very important that you stay that way,” she said, standing up on her feet as her hand returned to Renjun’s shoulder. “I know,” he mumbled once again, looking up at his caretaker’s eyes as if to hide the fact that he wasn’t listening a total hundred percent to what she was saying. “It could be the very death of you, Renjun. Your fragile heart won’t be able to stand the emotional, mental and physical shock provoked with the feeling of love,” she explained once again, a worried expression glossing over her face.

“I know, I know. You tell me that almost everyday,” he muttered, playing with the small buttons on the clock that is his own heart. “My heart is not a toy, therefore it is not to be played with.” he almost rolled his eyes at the older woman, feeling her smack his hand away from his heart softly. “It is something that I want you to take seriously, Renjun,” she hissed, eyeing the small mechanic artwork on the boy’s chest. “How can I even fall in love when I don’t know anything about love?” 

-

To Renjun, today was like any other day of the year. The sun shining brightly against his skin, the cloudy grey sky accenting the sky’s beauty. His hair gelled to the side to reveal some of his forehead and leaving a few strands of his hair to tickle his skin perfectly, his calloused hand gripping his 60 x 90 cm canvas and his large box of acrylic paints to his side, his favorite paintbrush hanging against the skin in between his ear and his fluffy short hair. 

Spinning one of his smaller paint brushes in his free hand, right between his fingers as he walked down the sidewalk of his home town, trying to find a spot to sit and paint. It was his birthday recently, so his mother had delightfully just bought a fresh new set of acrylic paints, considering he finished them on his last painting which was the majestic dove fountain in the middle of the town less than a month ago. 

Renjun was only ten years old when his caretaker took him out to wander around town, which was on his birthday. It was then when Renjun was hitting the age of thirteen when his caretaker’s worry lessened when she saw that her child was nowhere to the point of Cupid’s next target. Therefore those annual town visits turned into monthly visits (under his caretaker’s supervision, of course) and when Renjun had turned thirteen years old, he had shown an interest in painting and drawing in his free time while Madame Wendy was working with a patient.

However, love can strike at any moment. And by the time Renjun became sixteen years old, he was finally allowed to venture into the town himself to paint landscapes and buy more art supplies at least once a week with a 5-6 PM curfew. Nothing more, nothing less. Cupid was cunning, therefore she believed that this was the best she could do. Considering he was a teenager, she couldn’t protect him as easily as she could back when he was still an infant. And that was what she had feared the most in her life. 

Renjun sighed heavily, looking around with emotionless eyes, a cold frown forming upon his lips as he leaned his chin on his palm, his elbow supporting on his thigh and his other free hand holding the canvas on top of his legs. He wondered if there was more to life than work and oil paints, eyes wandering on the busy streets filled with the latest carriages and the latest transportation vehicles. He felt as if his life had gone by boring and aimless without knowing how to express his emotions properly. Is this what life has come to in his 16 years of living? 

16 years of being almost completely isolated from this town without knowing what his caretaker was so worried about. Madam Wendy had absolutely nothing to be worried about. Renjun had witnessed love from time to time in the streets, watching a couple of different genders walking down the streets with loving expressions on their faces. Renjun could not decipher why you would be feeling such emotions. He had been venturing around town freely with his strict curfews for almost four months now. And all he’s done so far is wander around looking for something interesting to be his next muse or visit the local library to read books. 

One of the books Renjun was absolutely fascinated on reading was this book the librarian had recommended to him on his first visit, ‘The Great Expectations’ by Charles Dickens. It was a small story of a young boy named Pip who went through amazing life changing experiences and going through hardships with his rather abusive sister, his blacksmith mentor and falling in love as well with a girl named Estella. (He would always snicker whenever she comes up in a scene as her adoptive parent, Ms Havisham, ironically reminded him too much of Madam Wendy) 

He often wondered if Madam Wendy’s strong dislike towards the aspects of love was merely because of his fragile condition or was it because of something deeper? However, looking back at when he found his caretaker’s family albums which were mainly pictures of her winning awards and bragging about her medical degree, he highly doubts it. (It was still fun to imagine theories while it lasted, though!)

“Ms Havisham stares at Pip coldly, and murmurs to the girl at her side: ‘Break his heart, Estella. Break his heart!’” Renjun read, his eyes moving as he read the brief summary at the back of his book. Looking down at the cuckoo clock heart hidden under his cardigan, he clicked his tongue before chuckling bitterly to himself. “‘Break his heart’, huh? What utter bonkers, you can’t break someone’s heart. That isn’t physically possible,” he shook his head in amusement, placing his book on top of the box of acrylic paints beside him.

Just as he was about to leave and head back home, a peculiar merry tune reached his ears, causing Renjun to pause in his step, looking around to find the source with furrowed brows. If this was like those small street cat sketches he would draw in his free time, it would seem like his ears perked up in slight interest. The merry tune turned on a bright spark inside of the young boy’s chest, curiosity growing in his veins at the tune he has never heard before. It was as if the angels above had descended to the earth while playing a symphony of flutes and harmonicas, making soft high pitched catchy tunes in the air. 

Renjun felt entranced by the music, it was almost as if it was pulling him- beckoning him to come towards it, towards its source. It was as if his feet had a mind of his own as he fought with his own rational thoughts to either go back home or find the source of the beautiful merry tune. He couldn't help but walk to where it's coming from, curious of who was making such a wonderful tune. Sooner than later, he found himself walking down a small alley that led him into a steep staircase that led him to another part of his town. And with every step he took, the music grew louder and louder. Soon, finding light at the end to see the small part of town he rarely visits.

He put his palm on the dirty brick wall, ignoring the uncomfortable texture against his skin, head poking out as he tried to decipher where the majestic music was coming from. Squinting his eyes to adjust to the bright sunlight for the staircase was dim enough to be mistaken for a tunnel with the broken rooftops covering the ceiling, he took a step forward. His eyes widening slightly in awe as he watched a young man his age push away a stack of crates to reveal the true source of music. 

A young girl, who Renjun figures is around his age, was cranking up a barrel organ right in front of the fountain. A hand going in circular motions on the crank, twisting the lever as she pulls it clockwise. The hand on her hip was soon placed on her chest when the music went on, clearing her throat softly as she began to sing along and harmonize with the melody. 

Renjun stood still in his place, baffled at the daunting beauty presented before him. The girl standing a few meters away from him was singing along merrily to the tune of the phonograph record, cranking up the lever as the other townsfolk that was walking by began to gather around her, enjoying the harmony that goes along with her soothing voice and symphony of flutes and harmonicas being produced by the portable barrel organ. 

As he sat down on the last step of the staircase to listen from afar, he couldn't help but pay close attention to the lyrics coming out of her lips. His paintbrush spinning in between his fingers as his mind focused on the words of the intro, smiling idly as he began to understand the words she was trying to convey. 

My vision's not quite right

But glasses make me look a sight

Enough to give the world a fright, like a sprite wearing specs

Renjun couldn't help but tilt his head in confusion. 'A sprite wearing specs? What the hell was that supposed to mean?' he pondered to himself as he found himself sitting at the last step of the staircase, leaning his white canvas against the dusty brick walls before putting his palm against his cheek, his elbow supported right above his knees as he gazed in awe at the little singer. 

His pupils never moved away from the young girl who began to twirl around with her hands on her hips. And that girl was you. He watched as you danced and sang as if you were in your own little world, almost clumsily bumping into an old man carrying two heavy wooden crates in his arms. He chuckled at the sight, a soft smile stretching across his face as he watched the girl apologize for almost bumping into him, making Renjun realise that she might have some sort of blurred vision with how she was squinting at the older man. 

‘Or she might just be an idiot,’ Renjun thought with a deadpan expression, laying his chin on his hand as he let out a soft sigh. Renjun had been living in this town all his life, despite the fact that he rarely goes out of his own home. He’s sure that no one in this town would blast such a merry tune so shamelessly in public while dancing and singing around like a fool expressing themselves. And it was quite rare for someone to walk around with a barrel organ out of nowhere.

The music stopped midway when you let out a small yelp and clumsily tripped over your own feet as you turned to your barrel organ when the lever stopped turning, eliciting a soft giggle from Renjun. You let out a soft grunt, huffing as you ignored the slightly concerned looks of your audience. You stood up quickly, hands coming up to brush off the dust and debris off your skirt, tugging on your suspenders as you attempted to ignore the embarrassed red tint on your own cheeks as you tried to play it off as cool. 

Renjun couldn't help but giggle at the sight, his cold emotionless expression morphing into one filled with the slightest bit of amusement. Though, it quite took Renjun aback when he saw you turn your head from your barrel organ to his figure sitting a few meters away from where you were standing, turning your head rapidly to find the source, raising a brow when your eyes met Renjun's. He stopped laughing when your eyes met briefly, eyes widening in shock as he began to fidget in his place as you began to waddle over to him, dragging your barrel organ with you. 

Wait, were you going over to talk to him? How did you even acknowledge his existence? Did you hear him snicker at your silly antics? Even if you did, how could you even hear him with how busy your surroundings were?

You stood before him with hands on your hips, lips pursed at him. "What were you laughing at?" you asked, a slight pout adorning on your lips as you looked down at the boy who raised his brow. Renjun felt his words pile up in his throat, trying to think of something to say without offending or upsetting the girl before him, as his Seulgi and Irene (his caretaker’s weekly patients) had always told him that ‘once you anger a feisty lady, there’s no turning back!’. 

Now that you were standing only a few inches away from him, he couldn’t help but take a small moment to observe your appearance more clearly. Renjun's eyes couldn't help but wander towards your figure, examining your facial features in full detail. The way the sunlight reflected upon your pupils, how your figure stood out that he could barely decipher that other people were present around them. The way your dress framed your body, lips pursed with a slight pout, eyelids fluttering softly as you blinked at him as you were waiting for a response. Renjun wondered how someone could look this entrancing.

"Hello? Are you listening to me?!"

Renjun blinked, snapping out of his thoughts. His mouth opening as his pupils went back up to catch the intense glare that the girl in front of him was sending. He closed his mouth when he realized he didn't know what to say in response, his mind turning blank when he saw you quirked one of your eyebrows up suspiciously. "I don't- How can you even hear me laugh from such a distance?" Renjun's voice faltered nervously, trying to avoid your question, furrowing his brows.

Your expression lightened slightly at the nervous boy, a bright smile of your own stretching across her face. "Out of all of my five senses, my hearing has always been the best considering I don't rely much on my eyes," you shrugged, sitting beside him on the last step of the stairs. Stretching your legs out as you used your palms to smoothen your dress before crossing your arms on your thighs and turning your head to look at the boy. "I saw you staring at me from a distance, was I that good?" you smirked, raising a brow. 

“You saw me? I thought you said you can’t rely on your eyes that much?” he asked in a weak attempt to dodge your question once again. “I lied, some lady told me that you were staring at me even after this old thing gave up on me,” you huffed, kicking your foot lightly at the old barrel organ in front of you. “Stop dodging my question. I don’t want to assume that you were stalking me or something,” you turned your head back to the boy, pointing an accusatory finger at him, wiggling the finger in front of his face teasingly.

Renjun bit the inside of his cheek, a scowl forming on his lips as he rolled his eyes. "Don't get too cocky, I was just perplexed. I was baffled to see someone playing such a merry tune so shamelessly in this lousy, depressing town," he responded with a click of his tongue. "How so?" you asked, tilting your head in confusion at the boy before looking around at your surroundings. “This town doesn’t look that depressing to me. Just needed some lighting up, that’s all,” your positivity elicited another scoff from the boy.

Renjun turned to you, brows furrowed slightly, confused as to how you couldn’t see how this town was the literal epitome of the Great Depression itself. "You're not from here, are you? Come to think of it, I've never seen you around here before." Renjun asked with a curious expression, watching as a cheeky grin formed across your face. "You got me there." You let out a soft chuckle, shrugging shamelessly before gazing up at the cloudy grey sky. 

"My parents and I just moved in today. They told me to run off and go dilly dally-ing around town so as to not bother them as they set up the whole place,” you explained, nodding towards your barrel organ. “I think I made a great first impression as the new lady in town, don’t you think?” you asked, giving him a sweet smile, ignoring how Renjun gave you an affirming shake of his head to say ‘no’ bluntly. “Well I definitely knocked your socks off, didn’t I? That’s enough for me!” you exclaimed brightly, clasping your hands together. 

“You don’t even know me. I don’t even know you. And how would you know if I was moved by your oh-so-stupendous actions?” Renjun rolled his eyes sarcastically, gripping his canvas tightly as he spoke, looking down at his shoes. He had never spoken to someone his age before without being forced by his caretaker or having to meet them for the first time at Madam Wendy’s home. It was quite new for him to be talking to a lady as well, for most of them were too shy to even talk to the young lad for his cold glare struck shivers down their spine.

“The sound of your laugh was enough to convince me that my actions were indeed stupendous, good sir!” you shot back confidently, a proud smile on your face as you placed your hands on your knees. “Oh bother,” he muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes once again at you, ignoring how the confusion he felt when the cogs and gears of his heart were speeding up in action. “I’m Y/n, by the way! It’s good to know I made a friend on my first day in Edinburgh. Perhaps my mini shameless performance wasn’t entirely fruitless!” you reached your hand out, gesturing for him to shake it.

Renjun looked at your hand for a brief moment, pupils gazing back up at your happy expression, raising a brow at you before sighing heavily. He pulled his hand from his canvas before leaning over to shake your hand gently, “Renjun. Huang Renjun,” he introduced, his tone emotionless. Your hand was warm and soft unlike his own dry ones. Your hand had small specks of dust, which he assumed were from the dusty lever of the barrel organ while his own was covered with dry acrylic paint from his previously wet canvas.

Upon the warm feeling surging through his body at the touch, he felt the tiny mechanical bird inside of his cuckoo clock heart burst out from his clock in response when his skin touched yours, the sharp wooden beak hitting the fabric of his jacket alarmingly. Thus making a small, almost inaudible ‘cuckoo’ that only Renjun (fortunately) heard.

"It’s lovely to be your acquaintance, Huang Renjun. Though, I must warn you, I might not be here for long. My family has been travelling from town to town for years, searching for something.” You told him, pulling your hand back to your side with a small shrug. “Searching? Searching for what exactly?” Renjun asked, watching your expression turned unreadable. You shrugged, leaning your cheek against your palm, your elbow supporting on your leg. “That’s the thing! I’m not quite sure, they won’t tell me.”

“A treasure chest, perhaps?” Renjun suggested, putting a hand on his chin in thought. “Perhaps so. Though, I’m searching for something myself, as well.  I haven't found it yet and I doubt I'm going to find it here." you sighed simply, leaning your head up to gaze at the cloudy sky. Eyes watching as the sun was barely visible due to the thick grey clouds layering over it, signalling that it might rain soon. 

"Well, what are you searching for exactly? Treasure? Money? Wealth is considered as a greedy sin in this town, so I don't think this is some place where you can find those." Renjun hummed, his hand going back to gripping his canvas as he felt the cogs and gears in his heart working faster than usual. Hell, he didn't know why he was so curious about this. This was none of his business, after all. This was your problem, why was he so keen on keeping the conversation going? Why was he so intrigued in a young foreign singer his age he’s just met?

You shook your head, sucking your lips into your mouth before pulling your bottom lip out in a pout. "I’m not a fool, Renjun. I'm not really interested in wealth or fortune. Though, telling you about my life goal appears to be too intimate for us, don’t you think? We just met after all. So all that I can say at the moment that what I’m searching for is for me to know and for you to find out," you send him a teasing smile, causing Renjun to frown and roll his eyes in annoyance, leaning back slightly before sending you a deadpan expression, 

"Does your extravagant search involve spectacles? You might look like you might need them, I know someone that could handle that," he mused, his lips quirking up into a teasing smirk, causing a frown to display on your face. A dead panned expression morphing on to your facial features. "I may have really terrible eyesight, but that isn't a way to talk to a lady, Renjun." you pressed your lips on to a thin line, rolling your eyes at the boy as you let out a soft laugh with a shake of your head. 

"Besides, I look terrible in them. As I said in my song, which I'm sure like all the other folks in this world that doesn't pay attention to the message I was trying to convey in my lyrics, it-"

"It makes quite a sight, enough to give the world a fright like a sprite wearing specs?"

You furrowed your brows as Renjun let out a sheepish smile with a raise of his eyebrow, teasing you as a baffled expression laid upon your features at his words. "You were saying, Y/n?" he mused, waving his hand, gesturing for you to continue with your words. Watching as your baffled expression morphed into an amused one. “Oh, that was quite charming of you, Huang,” you shot back with a flirty grin, causing the ticking of his heart to quicken against his chest, sending him small jolts of pain which he attempted to conceal with small chuckles.

"I’m surprised you were paying attention to my lyrics instead of enjoying my song like a normal human being," you huffed, pushing his face away with your palm against the side of his face, eliciting a small laugh from the boy beside you. "You really shouldn't play games with your sight though. They say a blurry vision will leave you in the dark," Renjun recited, remembering the words his caretaker had always said to him about the patients who come in their quarters using spectacles or glasses. 

You shrugged innocently. "I prefer life all a blur than to look horrendous for a living. You and your pretty face wouldn't understand. Also, I tend to forget my glasses frequently despite the fact that my parents’ constant nagging to bring them around," you , causing Renjun's jaw to drop at your bold statement. He has heard compliments about his dashing looks ever since he was a young boy from Madam Wendy’s relatives but ‘pretty’ wasn’t one of them, he should’ve brushed the compliment off and focus on the context of your words and stop acting as if he hadn’t been complimented before.

But however, something about this felt peculiarly different than the times where his family complimented him on his charming looks.

"Pretty? I haven’t heard that one before," Renjun spoke rather hesitantly, still quite bewildered that a woman his age had shamelessly complimented on his looks to his face. Yet again, said woman has a terrible eyesight so he couldn't be too sure that it was a compliment. You laughed, bumping your shoulder against his softly. "That’s the only thing you got out of my words? Are you an insecure lad, Huang?" you chuckled, giving him a slightly sheepish smile. “Are you sure you don’t need spectacles?” Renjun snapped back. 

"I’m just pushing your buttons! I assure you that even without my glasses. I can confirm that you are quite an attractive young man, and that’s saying something considering I’ve been travelling here and there for most of my life. I'm not as blind as a bat, you know." you giggled, clicking your tongue before adding on. "Besides, it won't make much of a difference, really. Even with or without glasses, I still see a very pretty boy," you joked, laughing lightly.

“Out of all the compliments you could’ve chosen, you decided upon the word ‘pretty’? Sounds quite feminine, don’t you think?” he asked, leaning his head to the side, looking at you with half lidded eyes. He realised that he didn’t mind being called pretty, he didn’t mind being complimented by you. Despite the fact that you two had just met. But he couldn’t help but wonder why you had decided to choose ‘pretty’ instead of the other synonyms of ‘attractive’. 

“Is that supposed to be a bad thing? I think pretty can be used for anything. It’s just a word after all, why do things have to be differentiated by the littlest of things? It’s just a synonym of ‘beautiful’,” you shrugged, watching as small raindrops started to pour down from the cloudy grey sky, reaching your hand out to feel the water drops hitting and wetting your skin slowly. Renjun raised his brow at you, perplexed at how you could be so nonchalant about your terrible eyesight considering his caretaker would endlessly bicker until he was forced to use spectacles until his eyes magically got better.

"What's that odd pitter patter?" you mumbled, snapping Renjun out of his thoughts once again. His eyes widened when he realised that the sound of his clock heart ticking had increased, blending well with the sound of the rain as water began to hit the surface of the concrete. He wasn’t supposed to tell anyone other than close relatives about his fragile condition, so his anxiety spiked when you turned to look at him, expecting an answer. "It's the rain." Renjun replied after a moment, gulping down his nerves before turning to you. 

"Do you like the rain?" Renjun asked, gulping afterwards when he realised how your eyes softly bore into his with an unreadable expression, the eye contact making Renjun’s clock heart steam up a bit as the gears worked even faster than before. Sighing as you felt the cold breeze that comes with the rain send goosebumps across your skin, you rubbed your arms before looking back to the pouring rain. You shook your head, "getting wet? Not really."

"But the sound it makes? Yes. It always reminded me of how I used to play in the rain back when I was still in elementary school," you nodded with a soft smile. 

The sound of the church bell pierced your ears, making Renjun’s eyes go wide when he realised that the clock had struck 6 pm. Quickly, he got up to his feet, his brushes almost slipping out of his fingers as he stumbled to get onto his feet. “Are you okay?” you asked, looking up at him in confusion, furrowing your brows at the boy as he gulped nervously. “I’m fine, I shouldn’t be out this late,” Renjun shook his head, biting his lip nervously when he realized that the rain wasn’t going to halt anytime soon.

“I don’t think the rain is stopping anytime soon, I suggest you wait here momentarily if you don’t want to catch a cold,” you commented, standing up as well as you stretched your hand out once again to feel the raindrops hitting your palm, smiling softly at the nostalgic feeling that came with it. He clicked his tongue, cursing at himself for letting his curiosity get the best of him as he contemplated on running all the way back home soaking wet. He wouldn’t want to lose his new found freedom.

Muttering a small curse under his breath, he stuck his book under his canvas before hovering it over his head. “Are you going to run? It’s raining cats and dogs out there,” you exclaimed, eyes growing wide when you turned your head to see him taking a deep breath. “Pardon me, unlike you, I have curfews. My caretaker would have my head if I don’t go back home soon,” Renjun deadpanned, rolling his sleeves out as he felt shivers down his spine when the cold wind blew against his skin. 

Right before Renjun was about to take a step into the pouring rain, you grabbed on the sleeve of his shirt, holding him back. “Wait, when can we see each other again?” you asked, eyes boring holes into the back of his head. He paused, his cuckoo clock heart ticking loudly against his chest at the small action. He slowly turned back to you, furrowing his brows as he felt the small machine heat up against his skin, causing him to wince slightly. Noticing his small reaction, you quickly dropped your hand, apologizing abruptly before clasping your hands before your hand. 

“It’s just- I haven’t been in this town for very long and I really need a friend beside me. I’m not quite fond of being alone. I know we just met, but I hope that we could be acquaintances at least?” you grinned up, your bright smile sending ominous effects to his heart as he took a moment to process your words. Renjun started at your bright expression, small steam coming out continuously from his mechanical heart as the seconds went by. His eyes dart from the rain before back to your figure standing right in front of him, waiting for his answer. 

‘Acquaintances?’ 

Renjun has never had friends before. His caretaker would introduce him to her client’s children from time to time but (luckily for Madame Wendy) he had never shown an interest in making colleagues.  But for some reason, something inside him was pulling him to say yes to you. Something inside of him wanted him to try and get to know you even more. It felt wrong. It felt very wrong. But yet again, it felt so right. 

Biting his lip, he gave you a soft smile. 

“I have faith that we’ll be seeing each other again very soon.”

-

“I just think it’s quite preposterous!” you exclaimed as you laid down against the smooth surface of the fountain basin. Renjun chuckled, pressing his paintbrush gently against his wooden palette to get bits of his white paint to add more details to his painting. 

It's been a couple months since the day you met, and since then, you two have been growing closer by the day. Your friendship blossomed as the weeks went by. Madam Wendy wasn’t very fond when Renjun came home soaking wet after curfew, but she excused his actions when he told her that he just lost track of time at the library once again. A rare occurrence but it still happens from time to time, and considering Renjun barely lies to his caretaker, she believed him when he told her so.

Every once a week, the two of you would meet up on the same exact spot as the day you first laid eyes on each other. Renjun assumed that your house was closer considering you were always there first, twisting the crank of your barrel organ, kicking your feet as you sat on the fountain base to wait for him to arrive in your usual dark magenta dress (which he assumed to be the uniform of the school you were attending). The two of you would always walk around town, searching for spots to relax yourselves and talk about random things as you watch Renjun paint whatever that catches his eye. Overall enjoying each other’s company as if the two of you were in your own personal little bubble. 

“What’s so preposterous about the infamous Romeo and Juliet, exactly?” Renjun asked, chuckling as he dabbed the brush on the canvas, blending the colours of the sky on his artwork. You clasped your hands together, huffing as you scoffed at him. “Ever since my school made us all read Romeo and Juliet for the next literature exam, I just realise how horrible this trope is,” you tossed your book to the floor with a click of your tongue, hopping off of the fountain to walk closer to Renjun. 

“Do explain why you think so,” Renjun giggled, watching you dip your finger against the white paint on his palette and kneeling down to smear it against the title on the front cover of your book with a frown on your face. “Why are the females always quote unquote ‘damsels in distress’? It’s very misogynistic if you ask me!” you tsked, grabbing your book and leaning forward to show Renjun the front cover of the book. “Mister Shakespeare was truly a legendary fellow to create a piece of writing this famous, but why use poor unsuspecting 14 year old Romeo and Juliet as the female protagonist?” you complained.

“Why couldn’t it be ‘Romeo romeo, let down your hair!’ instead of ‘romeo romeo, where art thou?” It seems a bit more fair to me,” you joked, causing Renjun to furrow his brows at you. “It might be quite improper for a boy to have tremendously long hair, y/n,” he had to lay the back of his hand against his chest in an attempt to calm down his mechanic heart, feeling it heat up against his skin as he noticed how close the proximity between you were. You scoffed at the boy before you, standing up straight and letting the book hand in between your fingers.

Putting your hands on your hips, you walked in front of him, covering his view of the town. “Well it doesn’t give Mister Shakespeare a reason to give the story an unhappy ending. The despair it brings when you found out they both died in the end? Absolutely preposterous, why would anyone like books with such unhappy endings?” you added on, poking your book with a scrunched up expression, bringing a smile upon Renjun’s lips as he found your figure poking the book in your hands as endearing as watching an small innocent child playing with their own food. 

He sucked in his lip, taking a moment to admire your beautiful form. The gears in his mechanical clock worked faster as his eyes wandered to your slightly pouting soft lips, wondering how soft it would feel against his own. He cleared his throat when he felt a sharp pain scorching through his chest when he realised he was starting to imagine things, patting his chest softly as he tried to bite back a smile. 

“Maybe you just haven’t read true masterpieces,” Renjun responded after a pregnant pause, opening his little bag and pulling out the novel he’s been obsessed with for the past few months, placing it in your palms. “Read this, you can thank me later,” Renjun smiled, patting the book in your hands with a light chuckle, looking up into your eyes for a brief moment before looking back at his canvas. For he feared that if he stared into them any longer, he would simply get lost in your eyes for ages, wincing silently when his chest started to ache. 

“‘The Great Expectations’? This sounds like those tedious books my parents keep on their shelf,” you raised your brow, sitting down on the fountain again as you began to observe the book in your palms, squinting your eyes at the summary written at the back cover of the book. “‘Break his heart, Estella! Break his heart!’ That sounds so cruel of her to break an innocent boy’s heart,” you frowned, looking up at your friend with the adorable frown Renjun came to endear. 

Renjun laughed, shrugging simply as he went back to painting. His fingers twitching against the brush as he coloured white clouds on his piece, feeling your eyes curiously on his content form. “You didn’t want the female protagonist to be the damsel in distress, did you? I just simply gave you what you asked for,” Renjun shrugged, feeling his heart do somersaults as you let out a loud huff of breath, scooching closer towards him so you can begin reading the book. “I suppose so,” you muttered under your breath. 

“Do you carry books like this around with you as you paint or are you a magician who can pull out rabbits out of that bag of yours as well?” you asked jokingly, pulling the cover open and flipping to the first page. “I-Wait hold on, a magician as well?” he furrowed his brows at you, turning his head towards you and leaning his head to the side in confusion. You shot your head up, giving him a bright expression as you nodded eagerly. 

“You might have half of the town convinced that you’re some cold hearted teenager living with the ‘witch’ or the makeshift doctor, as you would like to say, but you can’t fool me, mister! We may have known each other for less than a few months but I know for a fact that you are a magician!” you pointed an accusatory finger at him, wiggling your index finger around, your fingertip hovering right above his nose before poking it with a small ‘boop; coming from your mouth. 

He furrowed his brows, gently pushing your hand away from his face with a raised brow. “Do you mind explaining why you have come to that conclusion?” Renjun asked, an amused expression spreading across his features as he dropped his brush into the cup of water set right beside him before crossing his arms against his chest and leaning back slightly. You grinned, “you’re one of the few people I’ve ever known who can paint so majestically. Have you seen your own paintings, Mister Huang Renjun?” you exclaimed, giving him a wide smile as you threw your arms up in the air. 

He chuckled, adjusting the beret on top of his head. “You don’t know many people, y/n,” he commented with a small smirk on his lips. “Let me finish before I usurp you, Huang,” you frowned, furrowing your brows and squinting your eyes threateningly at him. “I doubt that you even know what usurped means,” Renjun chuckled, shaking his head profusely at you. “Don’t doubt my low vocabulary, Renjun,” you crossed your hands, letting his book lay on your lap as he let out a soft laugh. 

“Alright, what are you going to usurp me from exactly?” he asked smugly, raising a brow at you. “That’s not the point of this conversation, what I’m saying is that you and your aesthetically pleasing art skills are magical!” you shot back in a snappy tone, avoiding the fact that you used a word that you don’t entirely know the meaning of. (considering you only heard it from your mother when she was talking to someone on the phone every morning whenever your father was off at work)  

He swore he could feel the ticking of his tock stop for a few seconds at your words. “Pardon?” he spluttered, putting his hand on his chest once again as he felt the gears in his cuckoo clock turn rapidly against his chest. “The way you carefully apply to each and every detail on every crevice of your canvas is like magic, the way you know how much paint you should apply to get just the right colours and the way you focus on shading or blending the paints together to achieve the small shadows or to adjust the lighting of the painting is just-” 

You paused before letting out a loud groan, “superb! I can’t even find the words on how to explain your magical abilities, the simplest way I can put it in my own way is that you are equivalent to a magician!” you waved your hands around at the canvas in front of the two of you, your eyes going wide in awe as you stared at the half finished piece as if it was the first time you had seen a rare jewel in person. 

Renjun’s jaw dropped as he couldn’t find the words to express how flustered he felt. However, the way his cuckoo clock began to steam up was another completely different thing. He couldn’t help but look down shy at his own paint stained hands, wondering how you could find awe in something as messy as his artwork. “And it is an absolute crime knowing that you aren’t some kind of world wide painter, your paintings are absolutely beautiful!” you exclaimed, smiling up at him as Renjun stared wordlessly into your eyes. 

He couldn’t help but notice how close you have gotten when you began on your unceremonious ramble about his art skills, he couldn’t stop his eyes from darting up your eyes and down to your plump lips. Gulping silently, he scooched back a little bit, gripping the sleeves of his button up shirt tightly as he tried to take the ticking of his heart against his ears, a fuzzy feeling overcoming the slight jolting pain in his chest as he did so.

He watched your eyes go wide at his actions, realizing that you moved too far. “Oh crumbs!” you exclaimed, taking a large step back as you realised the close proximity between you attracted attention from the people around you, eyes watching you like a hawk. Some held disgust to see two teenagers of the opposite gender oh-so-close to each other as if they were going to share a sweet kiss. Some held awe in them, adoring the sight of the two flustered beings cozying up to each other like that. Some held shock as they had never seen the mysterious cold hearted boy who lived in the little house on the steeple that close to someone before.

“I’m so so sorry!” you rambled, feeling your chest swell up as you grew flustered by your own actions. “I didn’t mean to get over excited! It’s just that I was so happy to talk about your art knowing how you don’t think much of it but I just really adore your art and the way you paint- oh god that sounds very inappropriate of me to say. What I meant was-” your short nervous ramblings were cut off when you heard Renjun’s laughter filling your ears, the angelic sound sending warm feelings into your heart. 

“Pardon me for laughing, but that really caught me off guard,” he threw his head back laughing, his cheeks flushing red from laughing too much as he held his stomach, wiping his tears afterward. Your jaw dropped at his amused laughter, embarrassment overcoming your nerves as you huffed angrily at him. “You absolute jerk, I thought I did something wrong and invaded your personal space or made you uncomfortable!” you exclaimed, putting your hands on your hips angrily, only eliciting even more laughter from the sweet boy. 

“It’s really endearing that you find my art that interesting, you really did catch me off guard with your little outburst,” he chuckled, lifting his beret off of his head before running his free hand over his hair, putting the beret back on his head afterwards. You couldn’t deny how pretty he looked with that beret, but of course, you weren’t going to admit it (again) for the sake of your own pride. “I was just expressing my opinions like a normal person, you didn’t have to laugh at me like that, you know,” you crossed your arms against your chest. 

“I wasn’t laughing at your outburst, I can promise you that!” he exclaimed, shaking his head at you, ignoring the searing pain in his chest as he stared lovingly at you. You furrowed your brows, you couldn’t help but notice the slightly sad glint on his pupils, but you chose not to ask about it, focusing on the topic at hand. “Then what were you laughing at exactly, Huang Renjun?” you asked, furrowing your brows at the brown haired boy, who smiled sweetly at you. Leaning his chin against his palm, elbow supported on his thigh. 

“I couldn’t help but laugh at how sweet you looked while talking about the things I do in front of you as if I were moving the sun and moon with my own bare hands.”

-

“You know you have a lovely smile.”

Renjun looked up from his book in alarm, eyes wide at your sudden bluntness. “Excuse me?” he coughed, releasing one hand from the book cover to lay it against the rough surface of his clock heart hidden underneath his coat. “I really like your smile,” you gave him a tight lipped smile, putting the Great Expectations book on the desk you were sitting before laying your hands over the other, placing your chin on top of them before gazing up at him with an innocent shrug. “You’re being quite expressive today,” Renjun chuckled, looking at you with a perplexed expression, his brows furrowed as he kept his hand against his heart, suppressing the little bird inside from letting out a loud ‘cuckoo!’. 

“I don’t like to lie, you know that, Renjun,” you pouted, raising your head up to give him a knowing look. Sitting up straight, Renjun shot you a boyish smile, looking back down at his book. “Why, thank you. That’s quite flattering,” Renjun chuckled, burying his nose in his book in a futile attempt to hide how flustered he felt. Putting the back of his hand against his mouth, he coughed to clear his throat before removing his hand and putting it on his nape to scratch on it nervously. “How are you liking the book so far?”

Renjun cringed at the slight waver in his tone, biting back his tongue as he heard you let out a small hum. “So far, it’s pretty engrossing. It perfectly depicts the image of a young male protagonist losing his child-like innocence through heartbreak and hardship,” you clicked your tongue, folding the corner of the page you were reading before flipping through the other pages to see how many you have left to read. “A compelling coming of age story,” you nodded with a slight shrug. 

“Though, I still don’t understand why you recommended me this book,” you closed the book and placed it back down on the desk, furrowing your brows in curiosity. Renjun gave you a sheepish grin, shrugging as he went back to his own book before replying with a, “you’ll find out once you finish the book,” under his breath. You huffed in response, leaning your forehead against the hardcover of the book, letting out a dramatic sigh. He let out a silent smile, adjusting his glasses as he continued to read the last paragraph of his own book. 

Your eyes glared holes into his head as if he was going to tell you if you glared at him long enough, but you realised that he was back into his own little world now that he was fully immersed into the plot. Your eyes wandered back to the canvas on top of the desk right beside him, his set of acrylic paints and brushes gathered up into a small pile. He had just finished his latest painting of the statue of the founder of this boring town, his artwork never failed to awe you. 

“When I finally manage to finish the book, will you give me one of your artworks free of charge?” you piped up, outstretching your hand as you poked the canvas, trying to pull the large object towards you with a single fingertip in futility. Ever since you started spending your time watching Renjun paint while he listened to you rambling, you had often asked him to draw something for you for free. In which he would always reply with a brief ‘buy your own, acrylics are immensely expensive.’ before rolling his eyes and going back to painting. 

He wasn’t completely wrong. Madam Wendy always grumbled on how paint prices are constantly increasing as time goes on. And whenever Renjun would make a quick trip to the art store just to buy another bottle of white paint, he would always suppress the urge to sigh heavily in front of the kind store owner who would grin innocently (despite the fact that they know full well that they were being absolute gooses for increasing the price as Renjun was going to buy their products nonetheless.)

However it came as a shock to the both of you when he muttered a small ‘fine’ under his breath. Eyes blowing wide as Renjun slowly looked up from his book and eerily turned to you, right before he could open his mouth to retract his words, you shot up to your feet. Catching the boy off guard as you leaned over to cover his mouth with your hands. “No! You are not taking that statement back!” you exclaimed, shaking your head aggressively as you gave him a wide mischievous smile. 

Renjun furrowed his brows, eyes glaring daggers at you to let him go despite the fact that his gears were turning at a rapid speed at the feeling of your skin against his lips. “I’m not letting go unless you say yes,” you mused in a melodious tone, earning a shake of his head in response as he continued to send you his typical cold stare.

Renjun always had a really mean resting face, his eyes always managed to send cold shivers down everyones’ spines. However, there was something comforting in the way he looked at you. A familiar warm feeling blooming in your chest whenever he turned his head to look at you, even though his eyes barely held any emotion, even though his small chuckles and laughs held no genuine happiness in them, you couldn’t help but let a fuzzy feeling grow inside of your stomach. It was exhilarating.

“Come on, you probably have billions of canvases somewhere in town. Giving one away to your dearest friend shouldn’t be a problem, should it?” you whined, still refusing to remove your hand from his lips. He was internally enjoying the close proximity between you, but as the seconds went on, he knew his clock heart was going to burst out of his chest if he didn’t do something. With a small curse in his mind, he pulled your hand away from his mouth. “I would if you paid me. But considering you are currently penniless, I have to politely decline,” Renjun snickered, giving you a disgusted expression as he felt the heat around his mouth disappear into thin air. 

You frowned, pursing your lips as you sat back down on your seat, crossing your arms over your chest. “How could you do this to your most beloved friend?” you mumbled under your breath, loud enough for him to hear as you kicked one of the legs of the table in front of you childishly. Renjun chuckled, “‘Beloved’ isn’t even a word I would use to describe your existence.” Now it was your turn to glare daggers into his skull. “You’re incredibly mean, it’s almost bonkers,” you scoffed. 

“I know,” he shrugged casually, pulling his chair back to stand up. “Now if you excuse me, I would like to wash up to remove whatever bacteria you have oh-so-unceremoniously blessed upon my skin,” he bowed, pushing the chair back in the table as he tugged on the cuffs of his coat, giving you a small grin. “My hands are squeaky clean, excuse me!” you retorted, putting a hand on your chest in faux offense. “Keep telling yourself that, Y/n,” he nodded, abruptly walking towards the washroom at the back of the library with a hand on his chest as the effects of his emotions finally took place inside his mechanical ticking heart. 

As soon as Renjun turned to a corner, out of your line of vision, his whole body started twitching in pain. With a shaky hand he pulled back his coat to reveal the state of his clock. The hands of his clock were turning at a rapid speed, the small bird popping out of the clock and letting out a small ‘cuckoo!’. It was steaming up. Smoke was coming out of the contraption as if it was caught on fire. He felt like his chest was on fire. Renjun leaned his back against the wall, shakily blowing the smoke away and fanning it away softly with his hand. 

What’s happening to him? 

This has never happened before. What was happening to him? Why was he in so much pain? Why couldn’t he call out for help? Why couldn’t he make any sound?

Renjun wanted to cry out in pain, his body twitched as the tiny mechanical bird popped out of his clock with a loud ‘cuckoo!’. He gasped, patting his hands around his pockets for the key to his mechanical heart. He could hear the alarming ticking sounds of his clock with every second that went by, warning him something’s going to happen if nothing is done to stop this pain as he twitched in pain once again, clutching the clock with one hand, he felt something inside the pocket of his shirt. With a small grunt of pain, he fished out the small golden key inside. 

He pulled his hand away from his clock, gasping for breath as the pain in his chest increased with every tick of his heart. He plunged the key into the small hole connecting the arrows of the clock, quickly turning it counter clockwise as the pain started to lessen. Once the pain subsided, he dropped his hand to his sides, panting in exhaustion as his eyes blew wide with fear, his gears were working at their usual pace once again. His chest felt numb, a small throbbing pain lingering somewhere inside of him. 

‘What the hell was that?’ 

His eyes were glossy as he felt his emotions overwhelm his mind. His heart felt like it was going through a spin, as if the big hand of his core was going to pop out of his skin. His bones felt weak, as if it was about to implode at any second. The cogs and springs in his clock felt like they were about to explode. 

The loud alarming ticking in his ears made him wonder if he didn’t pull out the key in time, would his cuckoo clock heart halt for good?

-

“I’ll be off now, Wendy,” Renjun announced as he hopped down the stairs eagerly, gripping his fresh, new, empty canvas to his sides with one hand and spinning one of his brushes in between the fingers of the other. “Oh, you seem in a bit of a hurry, Renjun,” a familiar voice cooed teasingly, her words followed by another giggle. Renjun paused in his step, mustering up the energy to form a small smile as he looked up at the two women giggling at him. “Good morning, Joy. Good morning, Yeri,” he greeted with a polite bow. 

Joy and Yeri weren’t related in any way to Madam Wendy, but they are regular patients who would drop by weekly. And as far as he knew, they were one of the very few people who knew about his fragile condition (which is probably why they visit so often). “You look brighter than usual, what’s gotten you in such a rush, young lad?” Yeri grinned, sipping on her tea as she crossed her leg over the other with raised eyebrows. 

“It’s just a small trip to town, I need to buy more acrylics as well,” Renjun lied through his teeth, feeling the gears in his heart work faster at the thought of meeting you at your usual spot. “You haven’t had breakfast yet, Renjun,” Wendy spoke up, attracting the attention of the three in the room with pancakes stacked on three individual plates. “Do sit down! It’s been quite a while since you had a chit chat with your lovely aunts!” Joy giggled, patting the extra seat beside her before looking at her friend, who nodded in agreement. 

“I really shouldn’t interrupt-” 

“Renjun, go sit down,” Madam Wendy coaxed, placing a hand on his shoulder and nodding towards the empty spot on the sofa. Renjun looked back at his caretaker before sighing heavily, placing his canvas and brushes on the table near the entrance door and walking to sit on the empty spot the women had saved for him. “I’ll be upstairs cleaning up, if you need me,” his caretaker informed before exiting the living room, leaving her adopted son with the other two women in the room. 

“Okay, she’s gone!” Yeri exclaimed in a rather quiet tone before grabbing her fork and looking back at the teenager sitting beside them. “So how are you, honey? I just realised we didn’t even get to greet you last week considering you’ve been so busy lately,” Yeri hummed, shoving a spoonful of pancakes into her mouth as she spared a glance at Renjun. “Indeed! I assume you found something interesting in your great adventure in the outside world,” Joy giggled with an enthusiastic nod, causing Renjun’s eyes to widen. 

Renjun let out a small chuckle. “You two make it sound as if I was a protagonist of some weird story,” he mused, digging into his own stack of pancakes as he felt a warm feeling in his stomach at the memory of the day you first met. “Don’t beat around the bush and tell us!” Joy rolled her eyes at the younger boy, grabbing her cup of tea and pulling it to her lips. “How was this great adventure you’ve discovered?” she asked, her eyes flickering from her tea to Renjun briefly. 

Renjun bit his lip, scanning the room to ensure that Madam Wendy was nowhere in sight. He knew he could trust these two, considering the countless times he’s gotten away with his lies and rants. He bit his lip, glancing down at his hands nervously before giving his aunts a genuine smile. “It was fabulous,” he sighed dreamily, a sheepishly wide smile stretching across his lips as he took another bashful bite of his pancakes. “Tell all! Tell all! Don’t miss any details!” Yeri squealed. 

“What made it all so fabulous?” Joy whispered, her eyes peering curiously at the boy who appeared to be in a dreamy state. “A little singer with glasses which she won’t wear,” he replied almost instantly without any hesitation, a little bit too fast for his liking. “She isn’t all that, is she?” Yeri gasped, leaning back slightly in shock to hear her little Renjun was talking about someone and not something. 

He shot up, straightening his back as he dropped his fork on his plate with a shake of his head. “She is! She really is!” Renjun nodded eagerly, his hands coming up to make grand gestures as he continued on with his words. “She reminds me of a… sparrow! Perched up on the toppest tree branch in it’s tiny little feet, it gives her this calming fragile aura like a twig falling off of a branch. Her voice- her singing is like listening to a nightingale singing a bird song but with words! Or those soothing musical numbers they would always play in the telly after a good show has ended,” Renjun described, his eyes filled with stars and his heart filled with passion. 

The two shared knowing looks, bewildered at how dazed the boy in front of them truly was at that moment. “And her smile it’s like a work of art! Far greater than all of my masterpieces combined, far greater than the artwork displayed on museums! Her laughter makes her seem so miniscule, I could hardly believe that such a light heartening sound could be elicited from a human being!” Renjun went on, his smile wide as he leaned back at the thought of your smile which made his stomach do somersaults. 

“Oh Renjun, I bet that once she catches the flu, you’ll change your mind. Whenever women like those who catch the flu, they cough up a storm and sneeze like a steam truck,” Yeri joked, earning a brief frown from Renjun who scoffed in response. “Oh nonsense! I bet if she does, it would sound like a majestic flute found in the mountains!” Renjun waved his hand off with a roll of his eyes in disbelief.

The two women laughed in response, shaking a knowing look. “So basically, to sum everything up. You went to town and instead of catching the flu, you caught a bug in town, you young lad!” Yeri raised her eyebrow suggestively at the boy, indicating that he’s very much caught the love-bug she’s always ranted about on a daily basis. “Oh deary!” Joy gasped before letting out another fit of giggles, cupping her mouth to ensure that her giggles weren’t loud enough for Madam Wendy to hear. 

“You know it’s forbidden,” Yeri lectured, her tone turning serious when she realised that Renjun was actually serious about this. “For-bid-den!” Joy emphasized with every wave of her finger with a disappointing shake of her head. “I know,” Renjun sighed, a frown forming at his lips as he sunk back against the seat he was sitting on, leaning his head back sadly. “It’s for your own good, you know,” Joy smiled sadly, sympathy lacing her tone as she patted the boy’s head comfortingly. 

“Indeed. Oh deary, I wish I could live without love,” Yeri sighed, pulling out a mirror from her purse to reapply her lipstick. “Oh no, here we go again,” Renjun chuckled, sitting up straight once again as he prepared himself for another sad tragic love story his aunt has to offer. “Every day, every time I fall in love with a patient here or a man, they would always fall for some other girl!” Yeri ranted with a heavy sigh, smacking her lips together to get an even coating on her lips. “I am not letting Renjun listen to another one of your sob stories!” Joy huffed, leaning over to cup Renjun’s ears with her palms. 

“You might taint the poor boy with your bad luck with love!” she exclaimed. “Isn’t my condition a symbol of this bad luck?” Renjun chuckled, gently tugging on the older woman's wrists to remove her palms away from his ear. “Oh hush you, I’m sure you’ll get over this little infatuation you have with this little singer,” Yeri waved her hand off nonchalantly, huffing slightly. “It’s not like you see her every day of the week, you’ll get over it in no time!” she added with an encouraging hum, watching as Joy nodded with her in agreement. 

Renjun bit his lip, biting back his tongue as he continued to shove pancakes into his mouth as quickly as possible. At that moment, Madam Wendy finally came down with a key in her hand. “Renjun, I’ve always told you to bring your key wherever you go. Why won’t you ever take my words to heart?” Wendy sighed, handing the key to his mechanic heart to the young boy, who gulped slightly and mumbled a small apology under his breath before tucking his key in his front pocket. 

He couldn’t help but shiver as the memory of him having a near death experience flashed through his mind, the image of the key plunging into his heart and winding it up to lessen the pain he endured had traumatized him. He was terrified of it happening again. He was terrified of what’s becoming of him. Was this the effects of falling in love? Was he falling in love with you? He hasn’t even known you for very long, he couldn’t possibly fall for you in such a short time.

Besides, why does falling in love feel so good but hurt so bad?

-

“So how was the book I lent you?” Renjun asked in an attempt to spark up a conversation. “Quite interesting, though, I’m not quite sure that I’ll finish it any time soon. I like to focus deep into the depths of the story, fully imagine the characters emotions and thoughts,” you exclaimed, pushing your organ barrel beside the tree Renjun was leaning against, sitting down beside him under the shade and crossing your legs, tugging the edges of your dress over your knees. You dusted the bits of dirt off of the fabric on your dress. 

“I understand, it’s the thought process, right?” Renjun nodded, flipping a page of his book as he hummed. “Indeed! Though, I can’t quite get the gist of why Ms Havisham is so devoted to making Estella break Pip’s heart. She should’ve just left the poor girl alone, besides, I really don’t want to see the poor boy heartbroken,” you frowned, clicking your tongue in thought. “I despise Pip’s sister, as well,” you added with an innocent smile. 

Renjun let out an amused chuckle. “Yeah, she’s a rather insufferable character, isn’t she?” he nodded in agreement, remembering how heartless Pip’s older sister was when it came to Pip and her own husband before she passed away in the book. “She’s exactly what my mother would consider as a bitch,” you added on, pulling your glasses out from your purse with a small giggle, earning a loud gasp from the boy beside you.  “Y/n, language!” he gasped, pulling his book back to gaze at you with wide eyes. 

You giggled, mumbling a small apology before fidgeting with the frames of your glasses mindlessly. Renjun watched you play with your glasses from the corner of his eye, internally wondering why you have never worn them despite carrying them around in your purse everywhere you go. Furrowing his brows, he turned his head back to his book, biting back his tongue before shaking his head at himself.

“You know, you really shouldn’t play games with your sight if it leaves you in the dark, y/n,” Renjun deadpan, not sparing you a glance as he licked the tip of his thumb to flip a page from his new book. You huffed at your friend, fidgeting with your new spectacles in between your fingers as you rolled your eyes at the boy beside you. “How poetic,” you scoffed, earning a soft chuckle from Renjun. “I think I prefer life all a blur, thank you very much,” you added on with a snappy tone. 

“What does that even mean?” Renjun laughed lightly, putting his book down on his lap to turn to you with a soft expression on his face. “I keep forgetting to wear my glasses and now my eyes are blurry, I can’t even see the outline of my hand,” you stated, raising your free hand up above to the sky and squinted your eyes at it in an attempt to get a clearer vision of your hand that was merely a few inches away from you. “Your glasses are literally in your palms,” Renjun pointed out, nodding his head at the hand holding the glasses in question. 

You opened your mouth to speak, slowly putting your glasses in your little handbag behind you before clearing your throat. “As I said before, I forgot to wear my glasses,” you repeated, giving him a cheshire grin in response. “Jesus Christ, why do I even bother?” Renjun muttered under his breath with a shake of his head, “won’t your vision get worse the lesser you wear them?” he asked once again, rubbing his temples in distress. 

Humming in confirmation, you shrugged innocently before leaning back against the tree the two of you were sitting against. “Though, I believe it won’t get worse as long as I close my eyes. My vision won’t get worse if I don’t see, right? Besides, it feels good to close my eyes,” just as you finished your words, you clasped your hands on your lap, leaning your head back against the tree bark and closing your eyes before letting out a sigh of content. Renjun let out an annoyed puff of breath, “I don’t think that’s how it works.” 

Your content expression was enough to send fiery sparks into his mechanical heart, he could almost feel it steaming up again. He couldn’t help but notice how close you were next to him, as if he were to make one little scooch, your shoulders would be touching. His eyes wandered to your beautiful figure laying right beside him, internally suppressing the urge to clasp you close to his body in a tight embrace. Your soft lips causing his stomach to do somersaults the longer his gaze lingers there. He imagines that he would scatter confettis on the both of you if he were to press his own lips against yours in a kiss. 

His mind couldn’t help but wander back to those times where you had to walk up close to the signs to see what street the two of you were heading, the amount of times you had to squint and lean over the table to read whatever paragraph he was trying to show you during your reading sessions at the library. He felt this sudden urge to protect you, to constantly remind you to wear your glasses in case your vision worsened. 

There was something inside of him screaming at him to not let you stray away from the happy path you were currently in. Something inside of him made him determined to be your only guide, to be your pair of eyes. In return, he knew you would ignite the flame in his heart. No, you would be the special flame that burns his heart. You’d be a conflagration in the night. A pretty arsonist. A fire blazing so bright you’ll see the light of the heavens itself. 

“Oh why bother. You know very well, out of my five senses, my hearings best. I’m pretty sure I’ll recognize you without relying on my eyes,” you waved your hand off carelessly, keeping your eyes closed, oblivious to the way Renjun was looking at you so lovingly. “Well I assure you, I don’t think you can rely on your hearing to walk down the streets without my assistance,” Renjun chuckled, recalling the time when you almost walked into the wrong side of town due to your poor eyesight. 

“You don’t know that! My eyes always lead me astray, anyways. Far away down the street, sometimes I can’t bear to steal a glance at the sun or even look the sky straight in the eye for fear that my eyes would deceive me as well,” you confessed dramatically, finally opening your eyes and turning your head to look at Renjun in the eye. Your eyes widened at the way Renjun’s eyes softened at the sight of your own pupils staring back at his in confusion. You straighten up your position, putting your hands behind you and leaning on them. 

“Then let me be your eyes,” Renjun replied in an almost hushed tone. “I won’t let you stray, I promise,” he gave you a sweet boyish smile, making your heart flutter in your chest at his words. “Aren’t you being a little flirtatious? That’s quite unexpected of you, Huang Renjun,” you said with a raise of your brows as the corner of your lips quirked up into a smile that mirrored his own. You turned your head, feeling your faces grow closer and closer with every second. 

“Is that supposed to be a bad thing?” he hummed, turning his body so his shoulder was leaning against the tree bark, a dreamy smile stretched across his lips as he leaned closer to you. You chuckled, shaking your head softly. “I don’t know, what do you think? Maybe it could be a good thing?” you shrugged, closing your eyes and leaning your face closer to his. Renjun followed your actions, feeling the gears in his mechanical heart work at a fast pace. He winced in pain as his body jolted and twitched in pain, the mechanical bird inside of the clock rapidly hitting the door of his clock.

He felt your breath hitting against his face, your lips merely an inch away from his as his body twitched in pain once again. Letting out a grunt of pain, he felt one of the gears of his clock pop out of his chest. Putting his hands on his chest, he grunted once again as his body twitched uncontrollably in pain. There was the sound of fabric being ripped before his vision darkened and he fell back against the concrete floor, falling unconscious within a few seconds.

“Renjun!” a voice yelled out in alarm, causing your eyes to jolt open in shock. 

“Oh god, not this. Please, anything but this,” an unfamiliar voice gasped in a panic. Your vision was blurry, you couldn’t see much happening in front of you. You quickly fished out your spectacles from your purse, putting them on immediately before your eyes widened in fear and shock, your body froze on the spot. You could almost feel your heart stop beating against your chest for a moment. 

Right in front of you was an unconscious Huang Renjun in the arms of an older lady on the floor. He was leaning against her lap, arms wrapped around him tightly in a motherly way. His eyes closed in content, it almost appeared as if he was just sleeping peacefully. There was steam coming out of his chest, you couldn’t see where it was coming from considering the old lady had blocked your view of him almost completely as she pleaded for him to wake up worriedly. 

The lady in question snapped her head at you, glaring daggers at you as if you had committed some sort of arson. “What have you done to him?” she asked, her tone filled with malice and hatred. As if you were the cause of Renjun’s current state. Your eyes widened at her sharp tone, fear and anxiety creeping up in your veins as you couldn’t find the courage to even open your mouth, let alone utter a single word. You shakily got up to your feet, grabbing the strap of your purse before running off away from the two.

-

Slap!

The loud sound of Madam Wendy’s palm making contact with Renjun’s cheek pierced the room, causing his head to turn sideways at the harsh impact, wincing slightly as he laid against the chair, which was commonly used for Wendy’s patients, shirtless. His body jolted at the sudden contact, his heart making a loud ‘cuckoo’ sound at the shock it caused. “What were you thinking? You could’ve died!” Madam Wendy scolded, her fists balled up in her sides as she walked over to her table tray filled with tools. 

Renjun couldn’t speak as he looked down in his palms, his mind blank and face void of emotion. He felt numb at that exact moment, he didn’t know if it was the aftermath of the sheering pain he just endured in front of you or it was because of the feeling of his heart being fixed by his own caretaker. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Huang Renjun. Whatever bloody happened to rule number 3? Did you forget?” Madam Wendy exclaimed in an alarming tone, her voice strict and angry. “No,” Renjun replied before breaking into a small fit of coughs, wincing as his chest burned with every breath he took. 

“Do you have a pain in your heart when you cough?” Madam Wendy asked, her tone filled with worry, eyes filled with disappointment as she searched for a pair of pliers. Renjun nodded slowly in response, gripping the armrests of the chair as he leaned his head back against the pillow set behind his head. “Well multiply that pain and your suffering to a hundred fold and you still won’t understand the pain love causes,” she snapped, using some pliers to pull a piece of fabric from the arrows of his heart, placing the fabric on the small tray beside him before walking off to grab some more tools. 

“And the greater the love, the greater the pain,” she sighed, opening the drawers from across the room. Renjun’s eyes flickered to the woman frantically trying to fix his heart before his eyes moved down to the white fabric on the tray. He reached his arm out to grab it, quickly snucking it in his pockets before looking back at the window. During your near-kiss under the tree, the arrows of his clock must’ve pulled against the fabric of your dress. Your dress wasn’t made out of the most durable fabric, the pull must’ve ripped the top sleeve of your dress when he passed out. 

“First, your sense of ache, followed by pangs of rage and jealousy then incomprehension,” she started to explain, sipping on her coffee as Wendy’s heart ached at the thought of her own child going through that much pain if this goes on.  “Rejection, the agony of heartbreak,” she turned to point her tweezers that was holding a gear in between it with a strict motherly expression. One that Renjun couldn’t bear looking into for too long.

“Your mechanical heart won’t be able to withstand it, you know this! I told you countless times, this is why I’m always so worried whenever I let you go into town,” she barked, walking back to the tools to drop the rusted gear along with the other broken metals she pulled out and replaced from his heart. “It will overheat and explode, I transplanted it with my own two hands, therefore I know it’s limits,” she went on, her tone falling deaf onto Renjun’s ears as his mind wandered back to your figure. 

“A single kiss. A brush against your lips could be your last! Just like that, bang!”

With eyes closed in thought, he wondered what happened after he fell unconscious, how did Madam Wendy find him in such a short amount of time? What happened to you? Did he scare you when he fell unconscious? He was worried you’ll  be afraid to talk to him now. Did Wendy say anything mean to you while he was out cold on the concrete floor?

Oh god, your presence isn’t even here and your existence is entering his heart and filling it with flames as if you were a little fairy wandering around looking for a new home to live in. A home which is his heart. He couldn’t help but let out a small smile at the vivid memory of sitting so close to you under the shade, how his skin burns at the feeling of touching yours, how your smile and laughter gave colour to his emotionless dark world. Oh how the thought of you made Renjun feel as if he was floating. It was as if you were carrying him up into the sky, he felt like flying by your side. 

“Do you know why I saved your life?” a voice snapped him out of his daydreaming.

His eyes opened, head turning to his caretaker who took a seat next to him, gripping her gloves in her hands. “You were the son I never had,” she confessed, giving him a small comforting smile. “Why couldn’t you have one?” Renjun asked rather hesitantly, his voice almost hushed as if he was whispering, despite the fact that it was only the two of them in the room. Madam Wendy shrugged, sighing heavily. 

“It was no one’s fault. It’s one of those tricks love and nature plays on us, you know that more than anyone,” she chuckled, gesturing to the cuckoo clock heart on his naked chest. “Though, the day your mother gave you to me felt like it was heaven sent. Oh god, I would lose my mind and my reason for living if I lost you,” she reached over and ran her fingers through her child’s hair, making Renjun feel some sort of guilt deep down in his chest. 

“I’m sorry.”

I’m sorry I fell in love and I don’t know how to get out.

-

Madam Wendy finally allowed Renjun out of their home a month after the incident. For the whole thirty days he was prisoned in his home, all that wandered in his mind was you. He wanted to see you, he longed to hear your sardonic humor, he longed to hear your angelic laughter flowing through his ears like music. He longed to ask forgiveness of what had happened between the two of you under the tree.

He wondered if you harbored the same feelings for him as he does for you. He doubted you’d still feel the same after the incident, however, a part of him had hope that you would wait for him all this time. He tried to prove himself wrong as he ran around town to all of your favorite spots. The library, the fountain, the art store, the tree. Anywhere his mind took him, his feet didn’t stop moving. His feet couldn’t stop moving. 

He wanted to see you again. No, he needed to see you again. He needed to apologize to you to release the guilt in his heart. He didn’t care if his heart would explode right then and there, he needed to see you and he wanted to finally embrace you in his arms. He needed to know if you reciprocate his feelings, he needed to know if you longed for him as much as he longed for you this whole entire time. He never got your answer, either. He asked to be your eyes, he wanted to be your guide. He wanted to tell you to rely on him if you can’t rely on your eyes, he wanted to hold your hand to keep you from straying to the wrong path. He wanted to feel his lips brush against yours, he wanted to feel love. He wanted to feel loved by you.

His heart fell even more when he realised he couldn’t find you anywhere. No one knew where you went, no one has seen you since the day he fell unconscious. It was as if you had disappeared off of the surface of the earth. The only thing he had of you was the fabric he accidentally tore off of your dress. He realised you left your barrel organ ride beside the tree. It was already collecting dust as leaves fell in between the spaces of the organ. 

You were gone. 

The owner of the library informed him that you had fled abroad. His heart sank to the pit of his stomach at the thought of you running away. You didn’t even say goodbye. You didn’t even have the audacity to tell him you were leaving? Surely you would have informed him that you were leaving. Yet again, you did tell him on the first day you met that you weren’t supposed to stay here for too long. But was it too much of him to ask you to at least say goodbye?

-

Two years later, it was Renjun’s 18th birthday. Two years since he lost you, two years since he went back to the hollow shell he formerly was before he fell in love. He spent months wallowing in his own sorrow, he spent months wondering if you missed him the same way he missed you. He no longer looked forward to walking out of his home to paint, all he saw was grey. The places he spent with you made his vision dark and grey, it was as if the joy inside of him were stripped from his vision. 

He didn’t know what to do. His heart grew numb, he didn’t know how to make himself happy again. It was as if he had lost a part of himself. He had lost something precious. Which he did, he lost you. He didn’t know what to do. Yet, on a rare occasion, he would take small walks into town. 

Madam Wendy noticed how Renjun’s whole existence grew dull ever since that day, his eyes were always dark as if he hasn’t slept for centuries, a frown permanently placed on his lips, his movements weak as if he didn’t have the energy to move. At this point he admitted that he was barely living, he was just a human body existing with a cuckoo clock as a heart. His days were no longer as bright as they used to.

To Renjun, the days felt like it was repeating itself. He wasn’t allowed to go to school, for Madam Wendy feared that he would be made fun of and bullied by his peers. Everyday, he would wake up and wind up his heart, take a long shower, eat his breakfast, paint or read his books, occasionally talking to the patients who attempted to make small talk with him (however that wouldn’t last very long considering he had no interest whatsoever in interacting with strangers he barely knew), eat dinner, go to bed. Repeat. 

It was an exhausting cycle. His mind was growing dull. Whenever his mental health became worse, he would take a walk into town to clear his mind to try and lift his own spirits (despite the fact that he knew it’s futile. After all, he’s been trying this for the past two years.) Today was unfortunately one of those days. 

Renjun had decided to take a small visit to the library. He remembered how he had to apologize to the librarian for lending you the Great Expectations book when he remembered that you’ve never returned the book back to him. He still felt guilty despite the fact that the librarian didn’t mind it very much. The librarian lady took a liking to both you and Renjun, she thought the two of you would’ve ended up together if it weren’t for the fact that you had moved away without a goodbye.

But fortunately for Renjun, today was a different day. Today would be the day to end his miserable lifestyle. 

“Renjun! Renjun, my dear boy! How are you, honey?” the librarian greeted, putting a stack of books on the counter as Renjun entered the library with a bashful smile on his face. “Same as always, Mrs. Dust,” he bowed to greet the older lady politely, snucking his hands in his pockets after tugging on his coat. “Honey, I have lovely news for you! You remember your old friend, Miss Y/n, don’t you?” the lady giggled, walking over to the young adult with an eager smile on her face. 

Oh how Renjun’s heart perked up at the brief mention of your name. 

“Of course I do, Mrs. What about her?” he coughed, clearing his throat to prevent his voice from shaking. “I’ve received a letter from her! Oh hold on, dearie,” she giggled, squatting down to open the small drawer near her desk and pulling out a small postcard which had a familiar handwriting written on the back. “It must be your birthday soon. Happy birthday, my dear boy. The least I can do is give you this,” she smiled, handing Renjun the postcard with a hum. 

“Thank you so much, Mrs. Dust,” he smiled, gripping the postcard tightly in between his fingers as he looked down on it. It was indeed from you. You didn’t write much on the card, nothing more than a simple ‘happy birthday’ and a small ‘I missed you’. You had written your name at the edge of the card and a small ‘R’ beside the happy birthday, indicating that it was truly for him. Fireworks erupted in his stomach when he saw small hearts doodled all over the card with a red pen. 

You remembered him. 

You missed him. 

You thought of him.

Those words were enough to revive the spark in his heart. Those were enough to spread a bright genuine smile across his lips. His cheeks hurt from how wide his smile was, he felt like jumping for joy. He was so ecstatic he thought he could fly to the sky, he felt his fingers itching as his eyes wandered to the address you have written at the bottom of the postcard, giving him a hint of where you might be living. 

Andalusia. 

You were half across Europe. You were so far away, yet so close. He wanted to see you. He needed to see you. He couldn’t let this opportunity go to waste, he needed to get a move on and he needed to find you. He thought sending you a postcard back wasn’t enough. He wanted to see the girl who managed to turn his heart without the key, he wanted to see the girl who produced a spark in his heart with only a few mere words.

He ran all the way back home, encountering Joy and Yeri on the way back and shooting them with an uncharacteristically bright smile stretched across his face. “Renjun, lad, what’s gotten you all jumpy?” Joy exclaimed, causing Renjun to stop in his tracks. “I got a letter from her!” he informed them, his voice high-pitched as if he just got told that he had personally won the sun, moon and stars all to himself. In his case, he actually did. He actually did.

“A letter?” Yeri squeaked up, a smile stretching across her face at the sight of the younger boy’s. “From who?” Joy asked, giggles bubbling up in between the two ladies as they watch Renjun suppress the urge to jump for joy. “Y/n! She remembers me! She sent me a postcard from Andalusia,” he exclaimed, waving the postcard in their faces. Joy’s eyes wandered down to Renjun’s chest, watching as the hands of his clock spun rapidly, indicating how excited the young adult was feeling. 

“Y/n? Was this the young girl you went on about a few years ago?” Yeri asked, receiving an enthusiastic nod from Renjun himself. “Renjun, that’s great news! What are you planning to do then? Write her another letter?” she asked once again, clasping her hands in front of her at the delightful news. The boy shook his head eagerly, his smile never faltering. 

“I’m going to find her, I’m going to find her and confess my love,” he breathed out, his own words taking his breath away. The thought of seeing you again was enough to send him flying into the heavens, oh for all things that’s holy, he didn’t know how he was going to proclaim his love for you in person when he could barely explain it in words himself.

“To Andalusia? Renjun, that’s halfway across Europe! Madam Wendy won’t be very happy about this,” Joy informed him, a sympathetic smile replacing her previously bright one. Renjun’s smile faltered at the mention of his caretaker, looking down at the postcard you had sent him, your messy handwriting beckoning him to come to you. He sucked his bottom lip, his heart racing at the thought of rebelling against Madam Wendy’s orders.

Yet again, if he did end up dying from this, all of Madam Wendy’s efforts throughout the past two decades would be in vain. She was practically his guardian after all, but yet again, he was a legal adult now isn’t he? He’s 18 years old, he didn’t have to live under her rules anymore if he didn’t want to. But he couldn’t help but feel guilty for wanting to flee Edinburgh just to see you again, something inside of him was screaming at him to run.

Maybe this time, he would listen to it.

“Joy, Yeri, will you help me escape Edinburgh?”

-

“Renjun? What are you doing up so late?” 

Renjun froze, halting his movements as he dropped another sweater into his suitcase. He shut his eyes tightly as his heart raced against his chest, taking a deep breath to compose himself before standing up to face his caretaker as he zipped up his suitcase tight. “Wendy,” he cleared his throat, gripping tightly on the saddle of his suitcase with a small cough, slipping the key to his heart in his front pockets. “Renjun, why do you have a suitcase packed? It’s past curfew,” she narrowed her eyes at the boy.

“Wendy, I am now a legal adult. I have turned 18 years old,” Renjun started, suppressing the urge to gulp down his nerves but he kept his ground. “Yes, I know that, Renjun. That still doesn't answer my question as to why you’re up this late with a packed suitcase,” she nodded, tone laced with confusion as Renjun took a step back towards the opened window, looking out at the moonlight. “Y/n sent me a postcard… from Andalusia,” his voice grew quieter as the seconds went by.

“I’m planning to travel half across Europe to see her again.”

“No, I forbade it.” Wendy shook her head, taking a step forward towards her adopted child, her hands balled up into fists at how Renjun’s determined expression didn’t falter at the slightest bit at her strict tone. “I expected you to say that,” Renjun sighed, walking over to the open window and looking up at the moon shining down upon the dark sky. 

“Nature was cruel to pray this silly little trick on me. I spent two decades wondering ‘what is love’? I knew I didn’t need to love in life, you showed me that throughout my whole 18 years of living here. I didn’t need love to live,” Renjun started, clasping his hands together as he held the saddle of his suitcase harder.

“But I realise, I’ve always wanted to feel love. To feel love, to give love and be loved back. Y/n made me realise that when I started falling for her two years ago, and if it weren’t for you I wouldn’t have come to this realisation either,” he chuckled in disbelief, looking around at the decorations of his room, realising how much he’s going to miss living here. “I want to go out and explore the world, I know you have been dreading at the possibility of this day coming, but it has, Wendy.”

“Renjun, no. If you leave, this might as well be the last breath you’ll take! You have never travelled outside of town before, how are you going to survive travelling all across Europe for some measly girl? I won’t allow it, I can’t allow it,” Wendy shook her head, her eyes wide with panic as she watched Renjun walk backwards to the open window behind him. “I know you won’t allow it. But it’s time to let me go,” Renjun smiled sadly.

“Thank you for the 18 years you have spent trying to keep me alive. But the past two years felt meaningless to me without her presence, it felt aimless. I was honestly thinking about taking my own life at some point,” he chuckled with a shake of his head. “But now, I realise I rather risk my life for love than spend the rest of my days here with an empty, cold feeling in my heart,” he shot his guardian a genuine smile, the first genuine smile she has ever witnessed from the young boy. 

“Goodbye Wendy.”

“Huang Renjun!” 

Renjun fell back from the open window, causing Madam Wendy to let out a cry of his name, quickly running over to the window to see if her child was okay. She gasped when she saw that Renjun had landed on a mattress Joy and Yeri had set before hand, a loud joyous laughter eliciting from the younger boy’s lips, a sound Wendy has never heard from the boy from his eighteen years of living. He got up from the mattress, grabbing his suitcase quickly before shooting a boyish smile to his aunts. 

“I’ll send you a postcard, Madam Wendy!” he exclaimed as he began running down the hill. 

“Renjun, no! Come back! Oh god, please no! Yeri, Joy, what are you doing?! Stop the young lad before he-”

“You can’t blame me for falling hard in love, mother!”

-

“Now my dear boy, what a lovely contraption of a heart you got there!” a man exclaimed, adjusting his monocle as he squinted his eyes at Renjun’s mechanical heart. “Oh, why, thank you,” he smiled politely, bowing at the older man as he gripped his canvas in hand. “Where are you off to? You seem quite young to be travelling all by yourself,” the man asked in an attempt to make small talk.

That night, Renjun had run off to catch the nearest train to Paris, he planned to take a trip from there to Andalusia. It was a 7 hour ride but he was willing to do anything at this point to get out of Edinburgh. When he finally arrived in Paris, he stumbled upon this man while waiting for his next train. “Oh pardon me, where are my manners! I’m Kim Doyoung,” he outstretched his hand for Renjun to shake with a toothy smile spread on his lips. 

“Huang Renjun,” he introduced with a sheepish smile. “Ah, So, Renjun, where are you going, my dear boy? You seem a little bit too young to travel,” Doyoung took off his monocle, wiping it against his tie before putting it back on. “I-I’m trying to get a replacement for my heart,” Renjun said, poking his little clock with the tip of his finger, grimacing at the small ticking sound it was making at the small touch. 

It wasn’t a complete lie. 

He had planned to get a replacement for his heart for so long, he figured that maybe if he changed into a new one, this wretched curse of forbidden love might be lifted. Maybe he didn’t have to part ways with Madam Wendy or Joy or Yeri. Maybe if he replaced his clock, he could live his life happily in love with you. Though, for now, it was just a small hope he held inside of him. All he could do now was find a clockmaker.

“I’m trying to find a clockmaker somewhere to replace my heart,” he spoke in a bold tone, looking down at his unfinished piece. He made it during his seven hour train ride while thinking of you just to pass the time, though, he was honestly considering giving it to you the moment you get to reunite with each other. “Do you happen to know one?” he asked, his eyes going wide with hopefulness.

Doyoung hummed in response, tugging on the tip of his tie. “Unfortunately, I’m not a clockmaker. But I do like tinkering in the mechanics direction! Maybe I could take a closer look at your heart to see if there’s anything I can do,” Doyoung suggested, pulling out a magnifying glass with a nod of his head. Renjun sucked his bottom lip nervously before taking out the key from his front pocket, plunging it into the mechanical heart and turning it to open the door of his heart. “Alright then.” “Oh! You say that this was grafted by the famous Madam Wendy from Edinburgh? She must be quite the genius to craft and piece this all for you with her bare hands to save your life,” he exclaimed, leaning closer to observe the small gears slowly turning with every small tick tocks his heart makes. “Though, I don’t know why you’d want to replace such a thing. Everything works just fine, clearly, she made this out of love. I could see it within every crevice of art she puts into this clock,” the older man clicked his heart, putting his magnifying glass back into his bag as Renjun closed his heart shut and pulled his key out of the clock.

“Love, huh? That’s the exact problem I have at the moment,” Renjun sighed heavily, tucking his key back into his front pocket before leaning back against his seat. “It’s very dangerous to me. At least that’s what Wendy said to me for the past eighteen years of my life,” he looked down at his shoes sadly, pressing his lips together in a tight line as he felt the guilt catching up to him at the thought of his caretaker’s efforts going in vain. 

“Tell me about it,” Doyoung grinned, putting his hand on his chin as a smug expression spread across his features. 

“You see, mister Kim-”

“Oh no! Call me Doyoung!” 

“Uhm- You see, mister Doyoung. There’s this singer I met in Edinburgh a long time ago and-” “Ah yes, I see. These things do happen quite often.” Renjun bit back his tongue when Doyoung interrupted him once again, but nonetheless he continued on with his story. “As time went on, we grew closer. And soon, I couldn’t help but feel as if my whole world was going through a life threatening earthquake. My head was spinning, I couldn’t breathe. The ticking tock of my clock sounded almost alarming as if it was going to stop at any given moment whenever I’m within her lovely presence,” he explained, making grand, dramatic gestures with his hands as he went on.

Doyoung chuckled, assuming that Renjun’s poetic explanations were purely symbolic. “And how did that feel, exactly, Renjun?” he asked, causing Renjun’s expression to soften. “Extraordinary,” he sighed, almost dreamily as he looked down at the postcard he was holding in his free hand that wasn’t holding his canvas. “There you go, my dear boy,” he chuckled in response, leaning back against the seat next to Renjun’s.

“I don’t know, Mister Doyoung. I fear Wendy might be right, though, what if love was just a trap and my ticking clock is just a bomb waiting to be triggered by it?” Renjun asked, scratching the back of his neck nervously as he kissed his teeth. “Renjun, if you fear of getting hurt, you will increase the chances of getting hurt,” Doyoung laid a hand on the younger boy’s shoulder comfortingly. “You should enjoy the thrill, the danger! That pumps through your veins at the thought of falling completely in love,” he exclaimed. 

“If you live your life worrying everything, you’ll get bored before you even die! Don’t you want to experience a life changing experience with this little lady you’ve been saughting after?” he asked, her tone encouraging Renjun’s spirit to get back up again. A smile stretched across Renjun’s face at the thought, he had flashbacks to the two years he spent without you. He couldn’t afford going back to the same depressing situation he got himself out of, and he’s definitely not willing to go back now that he’s almost there.

“If I can find her again. The last time I heard from her, she was in Andalusia,” he shrugged with a small laugh.

“I’d say,” Doyoung laughed. “When you’re eighteen and you’re travelling half across the continent for a girl, I’d say the rebellious genes in your DNA are highly developed,” he joked, retracting his hand from Renjun’s shoulders. “I bet I could make a whole film based on your cuckoo clock heart,” Doyoung whipped out an empty journal from his bag, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively at his newfound friend. “Why not?” Renjun chuckled with a small shrug. 

“Young love, what a beautiful thing to see. You see, I never had any fond memories when it comes to being in love. All I do is invent and invent contraptions, and my former lover never appreciated my expertise. Life is far from easy when you’re in love, my young friend,” Doyoung sighed, leaning his arm against the seat with a heavy sigh. “Why don’t you come with me to Andalusia then, Mister Doyoung? I’m sure anything’s possible there and I wouldn’t mind having a bit of a company on my way there,” Renjun offered, the thought of making a new friend giving some light into his dark path.

“You want an unprofessional mechanic with constant near mental breakdowns following you in your journey to find love?” Doyoung’s eyes went wide in shock, a smile that mirrored Renjun’s appearing on his face. “I would love to have an unprofessional mechanic with constant near mental breakdowns in my quest!” Renjun laughed, nodding eagerly as he sat up straight to shake Doyoung’s hand to make a deal.

Renjun had  made another friend.

-

When they finally arrived in Andalusia, they stumbled upon a small amusement park where you were rumored to be staying in at the moment. “Well, first impressions?” Doyoung asked, looking around the ominous park filled with performers and eccentric workers setting up their tents. “It’s.. quite different than Edinburgh, I must admit,” Renjun chuckled, pulling on his suitcase eagerly as he scanned his eyes around in hopes that he might see your figure at the corner of his eye.

The park, unlike his old town, was way more colourful than Edinburgh. There were animals in colourful cages, happily interacting with their inmates. There were jesters and mimes practicing for their acts in the middle of the streets, happily entertaining a few visitors. There were food stands everywhere, Renjun swore you could exit this park penniless under five minutes if you really wanted to. 

“Come one, come all! For tonight we have special acts starting from 5 pm to-” 

He walked past whom he assumed was the announcer of the park, who was enthusiastically using a tricycle to spread his message all over the place. And upon walking around he stumbled upon what seems to be a horror attraction in the shape of a train, the owner standing inside of a coffin as she smoked her cigarette, eyeing Renjun suspiciously. “Looking for something, you little runt? A job, perhaps? Cause, I’m looking for a new employee to hire,” she asked, taking a puff of her cigarette in between her sentences. 

Renjun took his words back about Madam Wendy resembling Ms Havisham. Because at that given moment, he felt like Pip when he was first introduced to Ms Havisham in the book, clueless as to what he wanted with her. Renjun shook his head, no, mustering up the courage to give the older woman a polite smile. “I’m looking for a little singer?” he answered with an innocent smile. 

“A little singer? Here? The chances of that is equivalent to finding a snowflake in hell,” she rolled her eyes, taking another puff from her cigarette and blowing smoke into Renjun’s face. He coughed, taking a step back in alarm but he bit his tongue to snap back at the woman’s rude actions. “Listen, I’m just trying to find a little singer who sings like a lovely bird in the break of daw-” 

“Enough jabbering about her! Do you want the job or not?” she sighed exasperatedly. 

As Renjun was about to give the woman a piece of his mind for being so rude, the announcer cycling around him caught his attention with his words. “Ladies and Gentlemen, up next in our line of performers will be the young singing sensation, Miss Y/n! A lady who has travelled far and wide with her infamous street singing career,” the announcer said with a booming voice as he cycled to another part of the park.

“Miss Y/n?” he whispered with a soft gasp. “Well? Do you want the job or not?” the woman asked with a raised brow. He frowned involuntarily at the woman’s abrupt tone, clicking his tongue before running back to wherever Doyoung was. “I’ll think about it!” he exclaimed loudly before sprinting off, calling out his colleague’s name with a bright smile on his face. 

“I found her!”

-

“It is her!” he gasped, watching as you slowly come out of your little private trailer, music piercing his ears and your voice making its way into his heart like a knife throwing attraction. It hit right at the target perfectly. “It’s her, I can’t believe it,” Renjun could feel his breath being taken away. You had grown to be a beautiful woman, your features changed slightly due to the years but nonetheless, it didn’t do anything to stop Renjun’s heart from swelling up with adoration like a balloon being filled with helium. 

“Go into her trailer, no one’s going to notice you. Talk to her after her performance,” Doyoung encouraged with a slightly hushed tone. “Excuse me?” Renjun’s eyes shot wide at the unexpected encouragement, his eyes wandering to the trailer you came out of. “I can’t do that! That’s a lady’s privacy!” he exclaimed, shaking his head aggressively. “Trust me, it’ll go smoothly! Just believe in yourself and try not to let the conversation die,” Doyoung hissed, nudging on the younger boy’s shoulder.

Renjun got up slowly, gulping down his fear as he quickly got into your trailer, eyes wide at his own stupidity. ‘God, why did I decide to do this? This is very uncouth of me to do so,’ he thought to himself, wincing slightly when he realised that the music had died down. A bouquet of daisies were in his hand, he didn’t know what to do at that moment as he observed your trailer. It wasn’t very far from you. It was decorated according to your liking.

Your favorite colour was splashed all over the walls, a mannequin standing idly beside the entrance, your dressing table with a gigantic mirror showing his nervous presence. He froze for a brief moment at the sound of your enchanting humming and your little footsteps coming closer to the trailer, making him stand behind the mannequin on pure instinct as you walked into the trailer with a skip in your step.

You were humming the same song you sang on the day you first met. Muttering the lyrics under your breath as you removed bits of dust from your clothing from the performance. Looking up at the mirror, you gasped at Renjun’s awkward figure standing behind your mannequin. You stood up abruptly, grabbing a perfume on your desk and raised it up threateningly at him. “Who are you and what are you doing here?” you exclaimed in alarm. You couldn’t see his face very clearly considering you weren’t wearing your glasses.

“I’m sorry! I was tying my shoelaces when I fell into your floor,” Renjun shook his head, waving his hands around nervously to give off the message that he wasn’t some weird creep or stalker snooping around your belongings. “Do you always fall into a girl’s quarters when she’s changing?” you snapped, lowering your perfume hesitantly as you narrowed your eyes suspiciously at the boy. “NO! No! I would never, I swear! I don’t even know why I’m-”

“You look suspiciously familiar as if I recognise you from somewhere,” you mumbled under your breath, squinting your eyes at him. “You recognise me?” Renjun perked up, a smile stretching across his face as he took a step away from the mannequin towards you. You scoffed, rolling your eyes before turning to the mirror to adjust your appearance. “What do you want anyway?” you sighed, as if you were used to this sort of encounter.

“I’d like to give you a bouquet of daisies,” Renjun bit his lip, pulling the bouquet behind him and leaning it towards your direction. “Daisies? I can’t say they’re my favorite flowers,” you chuckled, looking up at him with a more relaxed expression. “I have no idea why, but peculiarly, daisies always reminds me of my glasses,” you confessed, putting the bouquet on your desk and standing up towards the exit. “I stopped wearing them a long, long time ago. They make me look like some weird bug,” you joked, looking back at Renjun, who chuckled at your words.

‘You really haven’t changed, huh?’

“It’s fine by me,” Renjun chuckled, walking closer towards you in comforting silence. The way your eyes made contact with his softly made his stomach do somersaults, the gears of his heart felt like it was powered by a burst of energy. “Could we see each other again?” he asked hesitantly, “I’d like to get to know you even more,” he added, snucking his hands in his pockets. “Perhaps,” you shrugged, giving him a smile that mirrored his own. “You’re not from around these parts, are you?”

“Oh, no! I’m not, I’m the-I work at the ghost train,” Renjun lied through his teeth, letting out a nervous laugh. “Oh, you’re the new scarer? That’s wonderful news to hear,” you exclaimed, clapping your hands to congratulate him on his new job. “Yes, of course! Exactly, I’m the new scarer,” he nodded, a little bit too eagerly if you asked him. “Can I come see you in action?” you laughed lightly, observing how fidgety the boy in front of you is as he stepped out of your trailer.

“Of course!”

“Tomorrow? Around four?” 

“I’ll see you then.”

-

As the weeks went by, the love between you and Renjun blossomed like a rose. You bonded over your love for art and music in general, rekindling the friendship you used to have. But unfortunately for Renjun, you didn’t recognise him, not a single bit. It was against his beliefs to hit a woman, for that was very impolite of a man, but whenever you mumble how you couldn’t put your finger on how you recognize him from somewhere then proceeds to drop the conversation, he couldn’t lie. He wanted to smack you upside the head for your oblivious self. 

‘Oblivious, rather ludicrous and as blind as a bat. Why did I fancy her, again?’ he would always ponder to himself on a daily basis before watching you run around to try the newest food from each of the food stalls with a bright smile on your face. ‘Oh, right, that’s why,’ he sighed heavily before going over to you with his hands clasped behind his back, mentally preparing himself to fall head over heels for you over and over again.

Today, he was giving you a tour of the ghost train. (yes, he took up the offer with a roll of his eyes just so he can stay here and spent more time with you) “You’re doing a wonderful job here, by the way. It looked like people are having a lot of fun riding the ghost train with your assistance,” you complimented, giving Renjun a soft smile as you walk along the dark train tracks.

“Why thank you, my boss can’t say the same, however,” he grumbled under his breath, rolling his eyes at the thought of his boss being ashamed of him for ruining her quote unquote reputation. “Don’t mind her, she’s always been like that,” you waved it off with a small giggle, patting his shoulder. “Hmm,” he nodded, a pregnant pause settling between you two as you basked in each other’s company. “How did you like the glasses I gave you?” 

Everyday, Renjun would find the most ominous and peculiar looking glasses that were all twisted and broken to give to you, which always brought a smile upon your face knowing full well that you couldn’t wear them no matter how much you tried. “Awful, as usual,” you joked, clasping your hands behind your back as you skipped along the tracks, your shoes hitting the dark coal with a soft ‘tip tap’. “Wonderful,” he laughed lightly, shaking his head profusely at you.

“I still can’t shake over the feeling that I’ve been in this situation before, or maybe I dreamed of this moment before,” you blurted out, looking around the damp cave-like tunnel you were walking through. Renjun bit his lip sadly, suppressing the urge to tell you that he was the boy you met back in Edinburgh. Yet again, what if you left for a reason? What if you left because you didn’t want to see him again? He feared the worse as time went on. 

“I’m sure we’ve met before but I don’t know where,” you turned to him with a smile tugging at your lips. “Really,” Renjun looked down at his feet, kicking the coal as you both paused in your step and turned your bodies to look at each other in the eyes. You somehow found comfort in looking into Renjun’s eyes, but you couldn’t pinpoint why they constantly gave you a sense of deja vu whenever you stare into them for too long. “What’s that odd pitter patter?” you mumbled, hearing a familiar tapping sound in the tunnel.

He bit back a smile, “it’s the rain.” 

He knew those words all too well. “Do you like the rain?” he asked, putting his hand behind his back as he adjusted the top hat on his head. “Getting wet? No,” you shook your head, giving him a tight-lipped smile. “But the sound it makes? Yes,” you nodded enthusiastically, making Renjun laugh at your slight eagerness. “And I’ve heard that noise before somewhere,” you whispered, loud enough for Renjun to hear. 

“That’s because it’s my heart,” he couldn’t help but blurted out, putting a hand on his little coat. “Pardon?” you furrowed your brows in confusion, watching him tug on his coat to reveal a miniscule cuckoo clock on his chest. “My heart, they made it for me on the day I was born. It’s a bit cold and a little fragile, but it works,” he sighed, watching as you observe the small contraption on his heart with a curious expression, pulling out the key from his pockets.

“You can open me up with this little key,” he grabbed your hand and placed the key in between your fingers, letting you push the key into his heart and turning it to the left before opening the door of his clock. “Fascinating, do you always let other girls walk into the train tracks with you and let them open your heart?” you chuckled, raising your brow at the boy in front of you, whose eyes widened in surprise as you pulled your hand away from his heart. 

“No, not really. In fact, you’re the first one,” Renjun shook his head with a sweet smile, closing the door shut and pulling out the key before placing it back into his pocket. “Oh, thanks,” your eyes widened slightly at his blunt expression, putting a hand on your arm shyly. “You’re welcome,” he chuckled, patting the key in his pocket. Renjun’s eyes wandered from your eyes to your soft lips, his heart racing against his chest at the thought of finally picking up where you had left off all those years. He didn’t even realise that he was leaning his head towards yours. 

“Wait- no,” you pressed a hand against his chest, pushing him away as you turned your head to the side with guilt glossing over your eyes. “Don’t,” you shook your head as you took a step back. “I really like you. There’s a warm fuzzy feeling growing in my tummy that’s making me pull towards you like a magnet, but,” you paused, looking down at your hands nervously as they lay limp on your sides. “My heart belongs to someone else,” you gave him a sympathetic smile. 

“Someone I met a long, long time ago. You always reminded me of him. “I’m still waiting until the day we reunite once again, embarking on a romantic adventure with you would just be unfair,” you sighed heavily, rubbing your arms nervously as you slowly let Renjun down. A great pang of pain pierced through Renjun’s whole body at your words, he could almost feel his heart tear itself apart as he watched you walk away and out of the ghost tunnel. 

Away from him.

-

“Renjun! You’re back! So? How did it go?” Doyoung exclaimed, fixing his latest invention with a cough, dropping his tweezers in his bag as he wiped his hands on a nearby cloth. Doyoung had rented an empty building so that he could introduce his new inventions to the public and entertain them with them. “She loves someone else,” Renjun mumbled under his breath, tossing his top hat onto one of the seats they set up as he sat down on the steps of the small indoor stage Doyoung had built over the past few weeks.

“I travelled halfway across Europe for her for absolutely nothing,” Renjun laid his head on his palms, sighing heavily as he tried to keep himself from screaming in pain. His heart was hurting. It was way different than the pain he felt two years ago, it was a whole new level of emotional pain he didn’t know he was capable of feeling. “Did you at least confess your love for her?” Doyoung asked, taking a seat next to the boy as Renjun gripped his hair tightly in distress. 

“Why bother? Her heart’s filled to the brim, there’s no way I could empty it out like a sink,” Renjun pulled his head out of his hands, his elbows laying on his legs as he threw the golden key to his heart against the carpet floor out of frustration. “You can’t just let your efforts go to waste, Renjun. Did she at least recognise you?” Doyoung asked, leaning over to grab the key and place it back into his younger friend’s palm with a heavy sigh.

He shook his head, turning it to look at the older man who adjusted his monocle. “No, I’d prefer her not to remember who I am than to remember me and not love me in return,” Renjun leaned his cheek against his palm, eyes looking down sadly at his feet. “You can’t just give up like that, Renjun. Love is like a shooting star you’re supposed to seek after, a wish you must grant yourself with the fifty percent chance of getting the outcome you desire,” Doyoung encouraged, leaning back against his palms behind him. 

Renjun chuckled softly, a sad smile appearing on his lips. “I never felt so sad yet so happy at the same time,” he shook his head, pressing his knuckles to his temples hard. “Ah yes, two of the most powerful and impactful emotions of the human soul combined into one,” Doyoung mused, raising a brow at his lovesick friend. “If only she believed me about my heart, her expression tells me that she thinks it’s some kind of sick joke,” he scoffed, kicking the air with one foot as he let out a huff of exhaustion.

“Well, did she say who has captured her heart?” Doyoung asked, raising his brow, causing Renjun’s eyes to shoot up wide. 

The impact of Kim Doyoung’s words have never failed to get Renjun’s adrenaline rushing again through his veins as he walked into your trailer with a small push against your door. “Do I know him?” Renjun asked abruptly, wanting to get straight to the point as he was very eager to know who has captured your heart. “Could you stop barging into my trailer all the time?” you retorted, turning towards him as you put down your makeup brush on your desk. “The boy you’re in love with, do I know him?” Renjun repeated, the gears of his heart racing against his chest.

He doesn’t even know if he wants the answer to that question. “No,” you replied bluntly, adjusting the laces on your dress. “So you’re not in love with him anymore?” Renjun asked, raising his brow as he crossed his arms against his chest and leaned against the door. “No, that’s not what I meant!” you huffed, feeling yourself getting frustrated the more he edged you on. “Look, it was a very, very long time ago when I first met him,” you rolled your eyes.

“It was back when my parents still made me move from city to city. Oh god, that city was practically made for him. The aura of the city radiated the same aura he had back when I first met him, cold and depressing. Nonetheless the more I got to know him, the more I realised that inside he was just a warm human being that needed someone to light up his perspective,” you sighed, clasping your hands together right in front of you. There was a loud ‘cuckoo!’ that pierced both of your ears, and suddenly, a small gear shot from Renjun’s heart and hit the wooden closet right beside you. 

“Would you stop playing with your clock? You could injure someone, it won’t hurt to take it off occasionally, will it?” you exclaimed with a gasp, looking up at him with bold eyes as you put your hands on your hips. “I can’t help it, it’s not some bloody toy! It’s my heart,” he snapped back, his hands balled up into fists as he felt his blood boiling in his veins at the sound of you talking so highly of someone else that wasn’t him. The way you talked about whoever this boy is was the same way he talked about you to everyone else. 

He took a deep breath to calm himself down when he saw your taken aback reaction, “I’m sorry.” You let out a deep sigh as you stood up from your desk, putting a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to comfort the poor fellow. “Look, I would really appreciate it if we could become friends. How about we go down to the theater tomorrow? I heard Mister Doyoung made a new contraption to add to the cinematic universe,” you suggested, giving him a kind smile as you took his hand in yours to try and cheer him up a bit. 

“I’d really like to go together.” No matter how much his heart was telling him to rest for the rest of his life, no matter how much in pain he’s currently in, but the moment he looked into your eyes, he knew he couldn’t say no. 

-

“Would you care to share more information about your romeo?” Renjun asked, holding his wrist behind him as you two walked outside of the amusement park together after the show. “Oh, don’t call him that. I absolutely despise that specific work of Shakespeare’s,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes as you hopped over a pebble, grunting as you caught your balance. Renjun chuckled, “why so?” he asked, raising his brow at you. 

“The typical damsel in distress trope never failed to make my blood boil like a pot of water on high heat,” you huffed, crossing your arms. “I prefer to call him my Pip,” you giggled, climbing up a small hill before sitting on top of the grass and laying your head down with a content sigh. “Pip? Why Pip to be exact?” Renjun asked, raising his brow as he took a seat next to your lying figure, leaning back against his palms. “A couple years ago, right before I left. We had this small debate on happy endings and shakespearean works,” you started, gazing up at the starry night sky. 

“I would constantly babble on and on about how women shouldn’t be the damsel in distress, then one day he whipped out this book out of nowhere like some sort of magician! It was called the Great Expectations by Charles Dickens, I finally finished when I left the city so I never got around to returning the book he let me borrowed,” you sighed, placing your hands on your tummy as you giggled at the thought of your first love possibly getting mad at you for leaving without a goodbye with the addition of not returning his book back. 

Renjun’s heart raced at your small story, his body froze as his ears grew a slight tint of pink (which wasn’t very visible, thanks to the dim lighting of the moon shining down upon the two of you) when he realised that you were talking about him. You were talking about him all along. “I realised why he let me borrow the book though, I asked for an unhappy ending without the female protagonist being the damsel in distress. It was a beautiful story, really,” you sighed, closing your eyes as you thought back to the times you shared back in Edinburgh.

“He would always listen to my rambles as he painted some random landscape in town, showing me his talents as well as listening to my words as I ranted about the foolish decisions of the characters. He reminds me of Pip a little bit. A bit childish, a bit foolish, a little bit misunderstood,” you went on, before pausing briefly, eyes opening to look up at your new friend. “Should I stop? I don’t want to bore you with my story, I tend to ramble a lot unintentionally,” you asked, receiving an aggressive shake of Renjun’s head. 

“No! No! Keep going, I’m getting very interested in your story, do continue,” he laughed lightly, looking down at his clock, biting back his lip to keep himself from jumping for joy. “The last day I saw him- oh god, I remember it every night before I go to bed. I never had my glasses on around him, so my memory of his physical appearance is rather blurry. But I remembered it like it was yesterday. Sure, I might not recognize him today with my own eyes but I remembered we almost shared a kiss,” a wide smile stretched across your face as a warm feeling bubbled up inside of you at the vivid memory. 

“Yeah?” Renjun couldn’t help but let a wide smile spread across his own lips at the thought, turning his head to the side to suppress the urge to tackle you in a strong embrace. You remembered. “He offered to be my eyes, he offered to keep me from straying down the wrong path. I never got a chance to say yes,” you giggled, rubbing your palms against your eyes as you felt a giddy feeling inside both of your chests. “Guess he was too eager to kiss you before you could say yes?” Renjun joked, grimacing at his own childishness. 

You chuckled, shrugging simply. “I guess so, I didn’t mind though. It felt exhilarating. I didn’t know how it happened but he also tore a little bit of my dress as well,” you shook your head, looking back up at the stars scattered across the sky. Oh how Renjun was using all the strength vested inside of him to keep his heart from going ‘cuckoo!’ right in front of you right now. “He might not remember me, I sent him a postcard a couple weeks ago. I never received one back. But someday, when we reunite, I’d like to thank him for the lovely book and for teaching me what love feels like.”

“Everytime I’m near his company I would always feel so safe. So happy, so loved. Genuinely happy and genuinely loved,” you sighed, closing your eyes once again as you took in the fresh air. “I’m sure he felt the same,” Renjun felt his cheeks hurting from how wide he was smiling. “Hey, can we see each other again?” he spoke after a moment of comforting silence. “Alright, when?” you opened your eyes, squinting your eyes suspiciously at him. “Noon? At the theater, I have something to tell you,” he grinned. 

“Alright then, is something wrong? Why the funny face?” you chuckled, sitting up from your laying position, cocking your head to the side as you raised your eyebrow at him. “Nothing, I’m just really excited to show you this,” he shook his head, he couldn’t hide his big smile from you any longer. 

Just like how he couldn’t hide his longing and love for you that he has been harboring for the past two years. 

“She’s in love with me,” he said to Doyoung, who gave him a proud grin in return. “Congratulations, my dear boy! You tamed the spark in your heart,” he gave Renjun a pat on the back, who smiled sadly in response. “But there’s a problem. She’s in love with the other me, the one back in Edinburgh,” he sighed, sitting down on one of the seats in the theater. “I don’t see why this is a problem. The ‘you’ back in Edinburgh is still the same ‘you’ now!” Doyoung furrowed his brows in confusion. 

“I assume so, but what am I supposed to say to her?” Renjun ran a hand through his hair in frustration. 

“Tell her how you feel! ‘It’s me! Renjun! The boy you loved oh-so-dearly for all these years! Your first love from Edinburgh, I have travelled far and wide all over Europe to find you, my love. So now let me take your hand and let’s venture and sail for the skies! In each other’s loving embrace!’” Doyoung boomed, throwing his hand in the air to make grand gestures as he spoke, standing up in the midst of his words. 

“Quite poetic, but I tried. The words are jammed at the back of my throat and I can’t let them out,” Renjun huffed, internally cursing at himself for holding himself back because of a small guilt lingering in his chest. “You’re still afraid of what might become of your heart once you fall completely, aren’t you?” Doyoung sympathized, putting a hand on his hip as he frowned upon his young friend’s unfortunate condition. “A part of me is still guilty for putting all of Madam Wendy’s efforts in vain,” Renjun laughed bitterly. 

“I thought you wanted to love and to be loved back, you mustn’t be afraid!” Doyoung encouraged, using the same tone he used previously to influence all of Renjun’s previous actions with a wide toothy smile. “You’re eighteen, you deserve the love you’ve been longing for, Renjun.” 

Renjun bit back a smile, shaking his head out of his insecurities as he stood up to his feet. “You’re right, I should’ve just told her who I was at the start. You have to help me come up with something.”

-

“Renjun? Are you here?” You called out, entering the theater bashfully. “Right here, Ms!” Naeun, Doyoung’s new friend, coaxed, waving her hand to tell you to sit on the front row, right in front of the stage. A familiar merry tune played in the background as the curtains were pulled back to reveal two puppets of what appeared to be you and a familiar little boy from Edinburgh. Doyoung came into view, clearing his throat as Naeun strummed the chords of the song you sang on the day you met your first love with a ukulele in her hand. 

“It was a lovely day in Edinburgh,” Doyoung began, looking towards the puppets. “Little miss y/n who was sixteen years old was dancing around in her dainty shoes, getting her feet all in a tangle before tumbling down to the floor due to her own clumsiness,” Renjun added with a small nervous laugh, moving his own little puppet around and towards the mini puppet version of yourself. “On the day they first met, she would ask ‘what’s that odd pitter patter?’ ‘What’s making that noise?’” Naeun hummed melodiously, causing your eyes to widen with every single word that comes out of their mouths. 

“It’s just the rain, do you like the rain?” Renjun asked, shooting you a short glance as if to say ‘sounds familiar?’

You furrowed your brows, lips pressed into a thin line as you silently watched the performance in front of you, taking every single last bit of information they were sharing into your head as took in the meaning of their words. “Miss Y/n adored the sound of the rain, but however, all this time she didn’t realise that the sound she came to adore came from the tick tock of Renjun’s mechanical heart,” Doyoung recited, looking down on his little card before sharing a knowing look with Renjun and Naeun upon seeing the flabbergasted expression etched on your face.

“Oh, how if he had told her where that pitter patter had come from, would she recognize him the instant they reunite? Would Renjun have to suffer the pain of travelling half across Europe to see her only to not be recognized for the little lady could not rely on her own eyes?” he added on, adding a bit of suspense as the settings on the puppet show changed slightly to the two of you sitting on top of a crescent moon side by side, sending you flashbacks to the last day you saw your first love. 

“Perhaps, if he had told her, would she have believed him and sampled the magical intimacy of blending dream and reality?” 

Soon, your eyes got glossy with tears. Your heart racing rapidly against your chest as you sat there in complete silence, the new information overwhelming your sentences as you watched the two puppets kissed on the crescent moon, the exact same way you were supposed to kiss two years ago. You sniffled, putting a hand up against one of your eyes to keep your tears from falling as Renjun walked up towards you and off of the stage with his hands behind his back. 

The curtains closed as he gave you a boyish smile, outstretching his hand to show you the piece of fabric he accidentally tore from your dress and the postcard you had sent out almost a month ago. You gasped, delicate fingers gently grabbing the postcard to inspect it. It was indeed the postcard you had sent, it was indeed your handwriting, it was indeed the same filthy postcard you sent a month ago. 

Within a few seconds, you fell unconscious as all this information was too much for you to handle. 

“Oh bloody hell, we killed her!” Renjun cried out in panic, taking a step back in alarm at your sudden concussion. Doyoung and Naeun’s head shot from in between the curtains, hissing at him to not panic and carry you back to your trailer. He sucked his bottom lip as he hesitantly wrapped his arms around your knees and your back, making you lean against his chest, your head so close to his. He gulped as he walked out of the theater, nervously praying to whatever God up there is watching him to not make him drop you in the middle of the streets. 

But fortunately for him, he managed to carry you back to your bed safe and sound. Laying your head on the pillow, he stood idly on the side of your bed, watching your sleeping features. You looked so content, his fingers itched to run themselves around your hair and to caress your cheeks. Oh how he longed to nuzzle his nose against yours lovingly and how he longed to press his lips against yours-

‘A single kiss. A brush against your lips could be your last! Just like that, bang!’

He grunted as his body twitched as his guardian’s words flashed through his mind like lightning and thunder, Madam Wendy’s sorrowful expression couldn’t help but make its way through his mind, causing his body to twitch once again. He took deep, staggering breaths as he palmed his heart in pain, eyes moving over to your sleeping figure before Madam Wendy appeared once again in his vision. 

‘Do you know why I saved your life?’

“If you really are the boy from my time in Edinburgh, why did you wait all this time?” 

His head shot up at the sound of your voice, his eyes wandered to your figure as you stared down at the piece of fabric. “What can I say? You’re an idiot, I feared you won’t recognize me considering you’ve never actually used your glasses during our small encounters,” Renjun chuckled sadly, sitting on your bed as you sat up and leaned on the headboard. “You didn’t even say goodbye, I thought you left because you were in shock of my sudden concussion on that day,” he said half-jokingly, putting a hand behind his neck.

You gave him a sad smile, caressing the postcard with your thumb. “My parents were tricked that day. They trusted the wrong person and the police got a hold of them, my mother left me outside all alone so the police wouldn’t find me and take me away too,” you explained, pulling your knees to your chest as you leaned your chin on your arms. “I remembered being so alone, so cold. That’s why I decided to flee Edinburgh, we weren’t allowed to stay for too long. Our neighbour told us they were going to get us permits but the next day… unfortunately that happened.”

Renjun’s heart ached for you, he never wanted to see you sad. Even though you weren’t supposed to be in Edinburgh in the first place, he felt slightly selfish for it. If it weren’t for the fact that your parents had moved her, maybe your parents would still be by your side to this day. However you can’t change what’s been done, the past is the past. He couldn’t do anything to make the pain of losing a parent go away that easily. 

He placed a hand on yours, rubbing his thumb soothingly against your knuckles in a silent attempt to comfort you. You smiled at him, scooting closer to Renjun without hesitation. “I’m so sorry about that, I didn’t know,” Renjun spoke briefly, letting your fingers intertwine with his own tightly. He reached over to his pocket, pulling out the key to his heart and tugged your intertwined fingers together. “I can’t make the pain of losing your loved ones go away like a magician could, but the only thing I can assure you is that I’m not going anywhere and this key is the living proof of it.” 

He laid the small golden key in your palm, tucking your fingers against it. “This is the key that winds me up, without it, I would be knocked out for good,” he chuckled, gazing his eyes deeply into yours. “You can wind me up, open up my heart, do whatever you want,” he shrugged, watching you scoot closer to him and mirrored the same actions as the ones he showed you on the Ghost Train. “If it hurts, don’t hesitate to tell me,” you informed him, turning the key to the right slowly. 

“It doesn’t usually hurt,” he laughed lightly, eyes filled with love and adoration. He felt his heart spark up with the same comforting flame you manage to set. He found comfort in the love of his life gently caressing his fragile heart as if it was made out of the rarest jewels in existence. 

He found comfort in you. You really are the key to his heart. 

“There you are, you little brat!” the owner of the ghost train spat, entering the trailer quite rudely. “You there, what are you doing holding back my employee? As if he doesn’t slack off enough on the job,” she sighed exasperatedly, taking out another cig from her pocket before lighting it up. “You have ten minutes to get there, it’s almost starting,” she hissed, her tone filled with anger and malice as she made her way out of the trailer with a huff of breath.

You and Renjun shared knowing looks, giggling softly as you pulled the key out of his heart. “I think we should get going,” you said in an almost hushed tone as if you were to make a louder sound, you would break the comforting silence between the two of you. You outstretched your hand to give him back his key but Renjun shook his head at you, chuckling softly as he gently curled your fingers against the key in your palms and gently pushed your hand back towards you. 

“Keep it, I insist,” he shook his head. “What? No, don’t be silly! It’s the key to your heart, Renjun. It’s yours, I can’t keep it,” you shook your head receiving the same chuckle from the boy in front of you. “No, from now on, it’s yours,” he grabbed your free hand in his, intertwining your fingers once again. “Let’s run away together,” he suggested, squeezing your hand in his as he crossed his legs together. 

“Excuse me?” your eyes widened at his words. “After your show, run away with me and let’s make the world our oyster,” he gave you the widest grin he could muster, his cheeks was starting to hurt from smiling too much and for too long. He didn’t know where the sudden suggestion came from his mind but he wanted to do what he’s always dreamt of doing with you, to sail for the skies hand in hand with you by his side. (And maybe live a content life in a cottage with three cats and a whole art studio, but that can wait. After all, he’s waited this long to finally reunite with you)

“This is going to sound very cliche but where would we even go?” you giggled, finding his eagerness quite adorable considering it was a rare sight to see, even back when you were still in Edinburgh. “I don’t know, anywhere! The seas, the trees, as long as I’m with you I’m willing to make do with anywhere. As long as you say yes,” he squeezed your hand encouragingly against his, loving eyes pleading for you to say yes. And the smile you gave him was enough to give him his answer.

-

Renjun ran all over the amusement park with his suitcase in hand, the sound of your voice booming through the speakers as he felt the adrenaline rush through his veins, happiness surging through every part of his body. He was finally living, he was no longer going to live in the same, miserable hollow shell he had been living his whole entire life. A bright smile spread across his face as he entered the theater, panting heavily.

“Well then?” Doyoung pipped up, putting his hands at his hips as Renjun gained his composure as though Renjun’s wide smile hadn’t given him the answer he was hoping for. “She loves me, the real me,” he sighed exasperatedly, putting his hands on his chest as he could hardly believe it himself. “Congratulations, my dear boy! I’m delighted for you, absolutely delighted,” he gave Renjun a hug and patted his back as if he was his own younger brother. 

“We’re going to run away for the hills together after her show, I’m so grateful for everything you’ve done for me. I’m sure I wouldn’t have done this without your help,” Renjun beamed, pulling away to shake his old friend’s hand enthusiastically, his mechanical heart racing rapidly against his chest at the thought of eloping with you all over Europe. “I’m going to miss you, Renjun. Do write to me from time to time,” he gave him a nod, a proud smile etched on his face, causing Renjun to chuckle and nod. “Of course.”

As Renjun was in the middle of packing, your show had finally ended. You snuck back in your trailer to pack your own clothes, but then you saw none other than one of your fellow performers, Choi San, sitting on your desk with a small piece of paper in hand. “San? What on earth are you doing here?” you asked, furrowing your brows as you took out your suitcases from your closet. “I heard you’re going to run off with that new boy,” he grinned, chuckling slightly as he smacked the paper against your desk. “Renjun? Oh! Turns out, he was the boy I fell in love with back in Edinburgh,” you giggled, shoving random clothes into your suitcase, your makeup bags, your shoes, anything you could possibly fit into one single bag. 

“I need to tell you something before you get into serious trouble,” San informed, giving you a hard expression before hopping off your desk to hand you the piece of paper. “I was doing my daily letter checking at the post office and I found this in the mail, it was from Renjun’s guardian from Edinburgh,” he sighed, crossing his arms as you opened the piece of paper to reveal a fancy handwriting underneath. “It tells you everything you need to know about Renjun.” 

You squinted, pulling your glasses from your purse and putting them on. “What are you going on about here, San?” you furrowed your brows as you read through the letter. It was indeed from the ‘Madam Wendy’ Renjun would always rant to you about during your days together back in Edinburgh. “That thing he calls a heart, it’s not what you think it is. It’s a grenade, a ticking time bomb waiting to be triggered, he’s dangerous, y/n,” San informed, his hard expression turning into worry.

“I'm just glad I came here before it was too late,” he sighed in relief, looking down at his feet. “No, San, you must be mistaken. Renjun wouldn’t hurt a fly, he’s absolutely harmless!” You shook your head, refusing to believe his words as you looked down at the letter. “For now, but until he loses control of his heart and therefore fails to abide by the three rules Wendy had given him on the day he was born,” San informed, his eyes narrowing at the letter. 

“The three rules?” you furrowed your brows at him, watching as San’s expression grew dim with sympathy. “Everything you need to know is in that letter, I’ll give you some time to yourself,” San patted your back with a comforting smile before exiting the trailer, leaving you with the letter and your own thoughts. 

-

“Are you trying to make me a murderer?!” you exclaimed, exiting your trailer with your fists clenched up tightly by your side. “Excuse me?” Renjun furrowed his brows in confusion, being taken aback as he took a step towards you with his suitcase in hand. “What are you even talking about?” he asked, letting the air sink back into his lungs from all the running he had to do all over the amusement park. “Madam Wendy told me everything in this letter,” you shoved the letter against his chest, watching as shock took over his features.

“Wendy sent a letter?” he gaped, his jaw dropping to the floor as he inspected what seems to be his caretaker’s handwritten letter. “She told me about the three rules, how you ran away against her wishes, everything! Were you not going to tell me these important details?” you hopped off of the first few steps of your trailer to come closer to the boy you love deeply in front of you. “Or did you forget to tell me something as serious as that?” you snapped, sadness and betrayal flossing over your eyes.

Renjun felt his heart sink into his stomach at your hurtful expression, he was so caught up in the fantasy of running away with you, he completely forgot about his fragile condition for a brief moment. “Who even are you, Renjun? I want to know who’s the man I’m falling in love with,” you gripped the hem of your dress to keep yourself from screaming at him out of pure frustration and anger, feeling your heart ready to explode at the fact that you had the potential to kill him if your relationship proceeded from this far on. 

“I wouldn’t ever forgive myself if you died,” you tried hard to swallow the lump in your throat, looking down to hide your glossy eyes as you tried your best not to think of what would happen to him if you hadn’t received that letter. 

Renjun froze in place, his eyes turning glossy with his own tears as he watched you speak, the words jammed at the back of his throat as he knew, deep down, there was nothing he could do to change your mind. It was far too late, he can’t do anything to change your mind anymore. “I refuse to love you, I refuse to be a murderer. That’s not my idea of love,” you shook your head at him, putting the back of your hand against your eyelids to wipe away the tears. Every word that came out of your mouth felt like a dagger into his mechanical heart. It hurt. Renjun was hurting. His heart was breaking right in front of you, and you both knew it. 

“It’s selfish,” you couldn’t help but splutter out. “No, wait. You got it all wrong, y/n,” he finally spoke up, frustration filling his veins as he found the courage to speak up. “Oh, so you didn’t escape your guardian’s home without permission, thus causing her to worry about you for the past few weeks with no information whatsoever?” you snapped, putting your hands on your hips after you wiped your tears away. “Yes, but that isn’t the problem here!” he shook his head, taking a step towards you as he groaned in frustration. 

“There you go! Oh, so now you’re going to disobey another rule and lose your temper?” 

“It’s not like that! Just listen to me-” Renjun reached his hand out to your face before his body started twitching in pain, causing him to drop on his knees as gears and screws popped out of his heart. You gasped, watching as your lover writhe in pain on his knees, letting out pained grunts for the next fifteen seconds right in front of you. Thus, giving you a brief image of what was going to happen if you continued on. 

“You’re scaring me, Renjun.” 

“I’m sorry.” he breathed out, putting his hand on his knees as he ignored the steaming state of his cuckoo clock heart. Your eyes softened at his guilty figure, your hands laying limp by your sides as you let out a sad sigh. “Goodbye, Renjun.” Were your last words before you walked away from him, leaving him to deal with his own pain. 

“I did the craziest things for you. My life isn’t always topsy turvy when it comes to love, but I put my life in your hands because I truly love you,” Renjun confessed, causing you to pause in your step. You inhaled deeply, not giving him a spare glance. “Yes, I agree, your actions are inhumane at this point, but count me out, Renjun,” you hissed back, wrapping your arms around yourself to keep yourself from shaking and breaking down right in front of him. “I’d prefer you to be hurt like this than dead, I can’t live with myself if I was the reason for your passing,” you sighed, looking down at your shoes briefly.

“Please just leave me alone. I’m not running away with you.”

You didn’t look back as you walked away, ignoring the sound of a distraught Renjun getting to his knees, holding his heart in pain. His eyes scrunched up in pain as he let out small grunts, trying to get to his feet back to make his way back to the theater. He collapsed back to the concrete ground as soon as he got to his feet, the ear piercing sound of his clock falling apart before him lingered in his mind as cogs and screws popped out of his makeshift heart. He wanted to scream out your name and plead for you to come back into his embrace, but he knew you wouldn’t turn back. 

So he did the only thing that came into his mind in order to stop this unbearable pain. He got up to his feet, putting two hands on his clock and pulled hard, ignoring the physical pain it brought him as he tried to rip out his own heart from his chest. Letting out a scream of pain as he collapsed to the floor, pieces of wood and metal scattering across the floor and drops of blood dripping from the doors of his heart. 

“Renjun!”

Doyoung and Naeun came up to Renjun as quickly as they could, holding him up as he coughed heavily. “I want to change into a new clock, I’m so tired of this one constantly falling into bits every time I feel the slightest bit of joy,” he mumbled almost monotonously, letting out another fit of coughs afterward. “Madam Wendy was right,” he added with a light painful laugh. “I suppose I have some spare parts to help you fix your clock from my camera, I’ll go get them-” Doyoung insisted but Renjun gripped on the older man’s wrist urgently. 

“No, I want a new heart. I’m tired of this one. One that works. I’ll never fall in love again,” he leaned over, cupping his mouth as he coughed once again, feeling more gears pop out of his clock like a confetti from a canon. “You’re running out of time, Renjun, you must seek help immediately. Is there anything you can do to salvage what’s left of your heart until you get back to Edinburgh?” Doyoung asked, furrowing his brows. “I can’t, I gave the key to Y/n. She left me, I can’t get it back anymore,” Renjun shook his head sadly, looking down at his own blood staining his fingertips.

“That key is your life, Renjun! You took a huge risk,” Doyoung shook his head at how deeply in love the boy in front of him was. “I know,” he mumbled, his words becoming more breathy by the moment. “You must return to Edinburgh and have Wendy patch you up again, it’s the only way to save your life,” Doyoung slung an arm around his shoulder, lifting him up as Naeun helped with carrying his suitcase. 

Doyoung led a heartbroken Renjun onto a carriage to the nearest train station. He insisted on coming with the young lad but Renjun wanted to face the consequences of his actions alone, he couldn’t bear to rip his friend away from the path of success he was walking into. So, with a heavy heart, Renjun rode the train back to Edinburgh with his eyes closed and his heart hurting like hell against his chest. 

‘This must be the same feeling Pip went through when Estella finally broke his heart to elope with some other man she didn’t love.’ he thought bitterly to himself.

-

“Madam Wendy what?” your jaw dropped as San shared a new bit of information. 

He leaned over, showing you the newspaper he was reading which informed you that Madam Wendy had passed in her prison cell. Apparently, she was caught for tampering with mechanics on a dangerous level with her other patients and was thrown in jail once again, but the disappearance of her adopted child had a great impact on her health, therefore she left her body in the cell she was staying in. 

“Oh, no. Oh dear god, no,” you hopped out of San’s performance tent, patting your pockets and pulling out the key that belongs to Renjun’s heart. “What’s wrong?” San asked, pulling the cigarette out of his mouth as he stood up as well, worried as his brows furrowed in confusion. “Renjun gave me the key to his heart, I forgot to give it back,” you yelled back, running as quick as you could to the theater, the only place where Renjun could be at the moment. 

You knocked as hard as you could, calling out the boy’s name in a panic. “Miss Y/n? What are you doing here?” Doyoung asked, opening the door as he rubbed his eyes from the lack of sleep. “Can you tell me where I can find Renjun? I still have the key to his heart,” you asked in an abrupt tone, showing the older man the key in your palms. “Nothing to worry about, Miss! He’s on his way back to Edinburgh as we speak, Doctor Wendy can patch him up in a jiffy!” Doyoung smiled. 

“That’s what I’m afraid of, oh god, no. But Madam Wendy’s passed away,” you informed, clenching your fists with the key in your hand. Doyoung’s eyes widened in surprise, his face turning pale at your words. “Oh boy, that isn’t good news. Go after him, hurry! Save Renjun before it’s too late, that’s what he wants more than anything. I put him on a carriage to the nearest train station. If you’re lucky, you might catch him on the train before it departs,” Doyoung rummaged through his bag, pulling out a random journal. 

“Here, take this. In case you don’t catch up to him, here’s something to read on the way. It’s a journal I kept ever since the very day I met Renjun,” he handed you the journal as Naeun called another carriage for you to ride to the train station. You sighed, your head filled with worry as you looked up at the two adults willing to help you save Renjun despite the fact that you were the main reason why he was in this mess in the first place. 

“Thank you.”

-

Renjun laid in the snow, near the house where he used to call home. Sniffling as he leaned against the tree at the bottom of the hill. Joy and Yeri had contacted him and brought him the news of his caretaker’s passing. Sulking as guilt took over his body, regretting every single decision he had made the past few months. And now he’s going to suffer the consequences of dying all alone. He couldn’t walk into his own home after the news, choosing to lay down under the snow to let himself slowly freeze to death and possibly hypothermia. 

So now, he was taking his last few breaths, enjoying the bright sky as he watched his skin froze, tears slowly turning into eyes as he laid there all heartbroken and damaged. His hair was white from the snowfall, with bits of brown peaking out in between as he sniffled and sobbed over the loss of his mother. Taking deep breaths to regain his composure, as his skin grew numb against the cold. 

“Renjun! I’m here!” 

It was as if the God above had decided to send an angel back to help him, he slowly looked up with half lidded eyes, a small shaky smile spreading across his lips as you fell to your knees to help him. “Renjun, oh dear god, no,” you whimpered, leaning close as you laid a hand on his jaw, making him lean his head up to look at you weakly. You grimaced at his cold skin, it felt like ice to you. It was as if he was turning into a giant ice cube right in front of you.

His appearance made your heart break. He looked so pale and broken since the last time you saw him. His eyes were red and swollen from the tears, snow gathering on his eyelashes, eyebrows, hair and clothing. Hell, he was wearing nothing but the thin coat he wore the last time you saw him. Dried blood was stuck to his cuckoo clock heart which was in a worse condition than it was back in Andalusia. You ran your thumb over his soft cheek, making him lean his face against your warm touch as you wiped the snow away from his skin. His breathing was slow, as if he was taking every breath he could before his last. 

With a shaky hand, you placed what's left of his heart back into their original place, your breathing becoming shaky as you held back your tears. It truly hurt you to see Renjun in this state, you knew he was on the brink of death. You didn’t even want to think about what would have happened if you had arrived much much later.

You pulled out the key to his heart from the inner pocket of your coat, leaning forward to press the key into his heart. But alas, his hand stopped you as he gently gripped your wrist and pulled it away from him. “No, I’m not too late. I’m not letting you die here, just let me turn the key,” you shook your head, blinking back the tears as you pushed your glasses up from the bridge of your nose. “I came back to save you, please just let me do this,” you pleaded, caressing his cheek with your thumb in a futile attempt to convince the love of your life to let you save him. 

“You came all the way back for me,” a tear streaked down Renjun’s cheek which froze under the cold atmosphere, sticking to his cheek. “That’s the most extraordinary turn you could ever give my heart,” he laughed slightly, half lidded eyes trying their best to stay open as his vision began to grow blurry and he wasn’t sure if it was because he was losing consciousness or if it was because of the tears he was holding back.

He tugged the key out of your hand before tossing it over the hill. “No, Renjun, what did you do?!” you panicked, your eyes growing wide at the key disappearing from your line of vision. “No, why did you do that?” you shook your head at him, pressing your body close to him as he leaned his back against the tree. “From now on, whatever happens to me,” Renjun spoke, giving you the same boyish smile he sent your way on your last day in Edinburgh two years ago. “I’ll only have myself to blame,” he sighed, intertwining your free hand with his icy cold one. 

“So now you can kiss me.” 

Your heart broke as you finally let your tears go, squeezing his hand tightly in yours as you sniffled. “As I said before, the things you do are absolutely inhumane,” you pushed your forehead against his, feeling your tears hit his wet clothes as you felt his other hand go to your jaw. “I’m just upset I never got to give you the painting I’d been working so hard on for all these years,” he chuckled, his eyes growing even more red as his tears streamed down his face like a leaking tap.

He caressed your jaw in his hand, eyes scanning your face one last time as he came with the fact that this was your last goodbye before he leaves for good. “If we were ever to be reborn again, I would still wish and pray for the gods to make you my first and last love,” he couldn’t help but laugh to stifle a sob that erupted from his throat. “And if we were ever to be reborn again, I hope you can always continue to smile like that until the day you close your eyes for good,” you nuzzled your forehead against his, sniffling hard. 

Thus with eyes clenched shut, you and Renjun pressed your lips together in unison for a passionate yet innocent kiss. You could hear the last strike of Renjun’s ticking clock, a loud ‘cuckoo’ piercing the quiet atmosphere as Renjun pulled you closer to him by wrapping an arm around your back and leaning his head to the side for a better angle. Your warm soft lips pressed onto his cold chapped ones, wet from the snow.  Your intertwined hands squeezing each other as you felt his mechanical heart put a ring on your own.

The next time Renjun opened his eyes, he was at the gates of heaven, standing in front of an actual angel with a bright expression on his face. “Huang Renjun, I assume?” the angel greeted, a soft smile spreading across their face as Renjun nodded. “You seem a bit too young to be up in heaven. Aren’t you just 18 years old?” the angel asked, pulling out a clipboard to look through Renjun’s life data. “I was almost nineteen, though,” Renjun shrugged, his wide smile never disappearing from his facial features.

“I’m so sorry you had to leave life so soon, young man,” the angel cooed, taking out a pen from their desk as they began to fill out Renjun’s form for his plans now that he’s in the afterlife. “Care to tell me what happened while I do the paperwork for you?” the angel asked, sticking their tongue out as they wrote Renjun’s life information on the glowing paper with a messy handwriting, reminding him of the postcard you had sent him less than a couple months ago. 

Renjun looked around the bright place he was in, sighing heavily as he stared up the gates of heaven with a content expression. He swiped his tongue over his pink lips as he finally felt his heart no longer empty, 

“I fell in love.” 

a/n: i didn’t like how this turned out lmfao but oh well HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE LOVE OF MY LIFE, HUANG RENJUN MWUAH

¤ taglist: @leetaeyonglover @lebrookestore @oifelixcmerebrou @vera-liscious @kunrengui @thats-a-jen-no-no

[jamie-vanderan]

Jamie Vanderan

IDENTITY

Name:  Aoibhinn “Jamie” Vega Vanderan, born Aiden Vega Hearthwood

Gender: Female (trans), She/her

Age: 17 (sixth year)

Birthdate: Oct. 28th, 1972

Species: Human

Blood Status: Pure-blood

Alignement: CG 

Ethnicity: Irish, British

Nationality: Irish

Myers-Biggs Personality: ENFP - The Campaigner

THE MAGE

1st Wand  ->  11 3/4, Ebony Wood, Unicorn Hair

This jet-black wand wood has an impressive appearance and reputation, being highly suited to all manner of combative magic and to transfiguration. Ebony is happiest in the hand of those with the courage to be themselves. Frequently non-conformist, highly individual or comfortable with the status of outsider, ebony wand owners have been found both among the ranks of the Order of the Phoenix and among the Death Eaters. The ebony wand’s perfect match is one who will hold fast to his or her beliefs, no matter what the external pressure, and will not be swayed lightly from their purpose.

2nd wand  ->  10 1/4, Blackthorn, Dragon Heartstring

Blackthorn, which is a very unusual wand wood, has the reputation of being best suited to a warrior. This does not necessarily mean that its owner practises the Dark Arts; one finds blackthorn wands among the Aurors as well as among the denizens of Azkaban and Death Eaters. It is a curious feature of the blackthorn bush, which sports wicked thorns, that it produces its sweetest berries after the hardest frosts, and the wands made from this wood appear to need to pass through danger or hardship with their owners to become truly bonded. Given this condition, the blackthorn wand will become as loyal and faithful a servant as one could wish.

Animagus: Red fox (vulpes vulpes)

Misc: Not a legilimens. Occlumens.

Boggart Form: 

Voldemort. This form is more for what he represents as opposed to the man himself. He is the reason for the war that Jamie grew up in. His mere name caused terror to anyone who heard it. It reminds her of the rumors that her dear brother ran away to join his ranks, something she refuses to believe. Her mother fled with her and her twin after Voldemort’s fall, fearing the aftermath. The boggart taunts her, in a way, casting doubt on her belief in her brother and reminding her of her fear of losing him forever. 

The Portrait Dragon. The dragon represents the first real challenge from the Cursed Vaults that she struggled to overcome, even with her twin and friends’ help. Her friends were directly hurt by her near-failure. It was also where Rakeprick, her mentor, betrayed her. It represents failure, recklessness, abandonment, and the dangers she brings to those close to her. 

Riddikilus form: Voldemort > Explodes into confetti and giggle noises. Dragon > turned into a stuffed dragon plush that then starts acting like a puppy.

Amortentia: (what she smells) Some kind of wood (it’s pine but she doesn’t know that), honeysuckle, and a familiar perfume she can’t quite identify

Patronus:  Fox

Patronus Memory: 1) When she was five and Jacob was running around with her on his shoulders while she directed him to chase imaginary dragons. 2) Her father teaching her to ballroom dance (standing on his feet and everything) after the hired instructor cancelled last minute. She was looking forward to it and was crushed, until he offered to fill in instead. 3) Lake-side impromptu theater with Rose, Penny, and Rowan. Penny said she had never seen a specific play that the others had, so the other three spent the next hour or so (very terribly) reenacting the play for her. None of them could remember half the lines collectively, so it quickly turned into an improv session based on what they remembered. Much laughter was had. 4) Talking with Talbott at night in the astronomy tower. Both were up and out of their dorms past curfew, neither able to sleep. They talked about anything and everything except why they couldn’t sleep. 

Mirror of Erised: Her family, together and whole. Her twin standing on her right; Jacob on her left, looking how she remembered him; and her parents standing behind her. 

Specialized/Favorite Spells:

Diffindo (signature)

Incendio (favored dueling)

Levitation Charm (from constant practice)

Depulso (signature/favored dueling)

Bluebell Flames (ooo, pretty)

APPEARANCE

Face Claim: Billie Eilish

Voice Claim: Linda Cardellini (as Wendy from Gravity Falls)

Height:  5′10″

Eye color: Blue 

Hair color: Blue (naturally brown)

Skin tone: Medium cool

Body modifications: Magic-based partial transitional body transfiguration (MtF),  magically changed hair blue

Scarring: A scar on her stomach from a gash caused by the spikes on the tail of the dragon in the portrait vault when she was swatted aside. She asked to keep the scar.  She has a few small and faded scars that were not erased with magic, gained from an active childhood, but aren’t significant enough to mention. 

Inventory (what’s something they value): Her wand. Leather bracelet bought from a muggle shop. Dragon tooth necklace bought from Diagon Alley after 3rd year. Self-inking quill with shiny blue ink (gift from Rowan). Prefect Badge.

ALLEGIANCES

Hogwarts House: Slytherin

Affiliations/Organizations: Circle Khanna

Profession: She plans to become an auror after graduation.

HOGWARTS INFORMATIONS

Class Proficiencies

Astronomy: ★★★★★★★☆☆☆

O.W.L. Achieved: E

Charms: ★★★★★★★★☆☆

O.W.L. Achieved: E

DADA: ★★★★★★★★★☆

O.W.L. Achieved: O

Herbology: ★★★★☆☆☆☆☆

O.W.L. Achieved: E

History of Magic: ★★★★★☆☆☆☆☆

O.W.L. Achieved: A

Potions: ★★★★★★★★☆☆

O.W.L. Achieved: O

Transfiguration: ★★★★★☆☆☆☆☆

O.W.L. Achieved: E

Flying: ★★★★★★☆☆☆☆

Electives: 

CoMC: ★★★★☆☆☆☆☆☆

O.W.L. Achieved: E

Divination: ★★★★★★☆☆☆☆

O.W.L. Achieved: O

Muggle Studies: ★★★★★★☆☆☆☆

O.W.L. Achieved: E

Ancient Runes: ★★★★★★☆☆☆☆

O.W.L. Achieved: E

Quidditch: Joined team as beater in 6th year

Extra-curricular: Muggle music, dancing club

Favorite Professor: Flitwick. He’s highly skilled, engaging, patient, and fun. 

Least Favorite Professor: Binns “Seriously, why does Dumbledore keep him?”

RELATIONSHIPS :

Sister: Rose Vanderan (fraternal twin)

The twins weren’t as close growing up as twins commonly are. From the age of five, both were raised and taught differently: Jamie (Aiden) was raised as a spare heir, as the second-born son, and Rose was raised as a proper young lady of the house. The separation continued once they reached school as both were in separate houses and made different friends (with the exception of Rowan and Ben who were shared with both). However, in their school years they were away from their mother, allowing more freedom from their “roles”. Since arriving at school, she and Rose dealt with all the expectations and concerns their brother left in his wake. Rumors, both good and bad, surrounded them and a lot of the weight was placed on their shoulders by Jacob’s larger shadow. Around their third year Rose became more involved with the search for the Vaults, and from that point the two became closer, and by their fifth year they were nearly inseparable.

Brother: Jacob Hearthwood 

Born July 10th, 1963

Slytherin

Expelled Oct. 1980

Natural-born legilimens

Face Claim: Cody Christian

Since the beginning Jamie looked up to Jacob. He was cool, fun, brave, and strong, a great older brother. He was everything that she wanted to be. With a nine year age difference, she would always be a kid to him, but he always made sure to spend time with her during school breaks. She’d marvel at the stories Jacob told her of the adventures and mischief he’d get into at school, although he rarely spoke of the Cursed Vaults. Looking back she really doesn’t have any bad memories involving Jacob. 

She, like her twin Rose, refused to believe the overheard whispers among the adults that Jacob had joined the Death Eaters: That he was young and impressionable, that he followed the wrong crowd and did a lot of questionable or illegal things that made him an interest for Voldemort’s efforts. Her brother would never. The rumor that he was dead she refused even harder; If he was a Death Eater, at least he was alive.

As she investigated what happened to Jacob in Hogwarts, she started to build a different image of her brother. Many people loved him, saying that he was a great student and a great friend. Others thought him a delinquent that brought nothing but trouble. It was the latter thought that surprised Jamie. 

This Jacob was not the big brother she knew, or more accurately, the brother she remembered. Nine years is a long time, both as an age difference and a time to be separated. At first she believed that Jacob had changed, that the Cursed Vaults had really messed with his mind, made him mad like everyone claimed. But when she considered everything that she'd heard about her brother before he disappeared, both good and bad, she started to wonder if she ever really knew him to begin with. This was first evident when she hesitated to approach him in the Portrait Vault. Was this really the Jacob she remembered? 

In mirrored contrast, her hesitation was also due to how different she was from what he remembered. He remembered Aiden, his younger brother. Rose tried to help explain, and Jacob understood the general idea from Rose’s memories due to their legilimens connection over the years. While he seemed to have accepted, Jamie didn’t have the chance to really say more--or anything she wanted to say the past nine years--before he ran off after Rakepick. 

She was a stranger to him, just as he was to her. 

Mother: Vassendra “Vassie” Vanderan

Born August 24th, 1943

Pure-blood. 

Slytherin. 

Lady of the Manor. 

Work for the Dept. of Magical Games & Sports (Quidditch League Headquarters).

Face Claim: Charlize Theron

Vassie was often cautious and controlling, and at times overbearing. She had high expectations for all of her children, especially so for Jamie--who was Aiden then--as the only remaining male heir after Jacob’s disappearance. Jamie was relatively close with her mother before attending Hogwarts, but after Jacob’s disappearance their relationship was strained as she drew into herself more and more.

As the dangers of the Cursed Vaults grew with each year and the twins’ insistence in being at the center of it, Vassie threatened to pull them both out of Hogwarts. She very nearly had after their fifth year and the events of the Buried Vaults, but the twins managed to convince her that they would stay away from the Vaults, stating that they had learned their lesson the hard way. But a month into their sixth year, after they both turned 17, they broke their promise and threw themselves back into the search for the final vault. Jamie refused to give up on Jacob or just forget what Rakepick did. This is what finally estranged their relationship.

Jamie felt that her mother, like many of the other adults, had given up on Jacob and written him off as dead. She understood that her mother mourned Jacob’s absence as she had, as they all do, but while her mother was trying to move on, Jamie refused to let him go. Perhaps part of her, the still childlike and naive part, thought that if she could find Jacob and bring him back, that everything would go back to the way it was before. 

Jamie’s estrangement from her mother was largely due to Jamie’s stubborn pursuit of the Vaults, but it began before she first arrived at Hogwarts, with her mother’s dismissive refusal to accept that her youngest “son” is actually one of her daughters. It wasn’t until just before Jamie’s second year at Hogwarts that her mother relented enough to allow a dorm change, and another year until she legally changed Jamie’s name from Aiden to Aoibhinn. 

Father: Damian Hearthwood

Born July 28th, 1929

Pure-blood. 

Gryffindor. 

A businessman and threat analyst. 

Natural-born legilimens

Face/Voice Claim: Jeremy Irons

Hearthwood was a fastidious and daring man, a strict but rewarding father, and a devoted husband. He cared greatly for his family and did what was necessary to provide for and protect his family. Like Vassie, Damian held high expectations for his children, and made efforts to ensure that they were raised to meet them. 

Where Jamie had a closer and stronger relationship with her mother, she had a more distant but emotionally complicated relationship with her father. Her memories of him are mostly vague and sort of dull mixed with a desire for recognition and pride. She has several happy memories with her father that she treasures, but she also has memories of his disapproval and disappointment that she can’t let go. She sought his approval, to have him speak of her with the same pride as he had with Jacob. 

When he was arrested in 1981, shortly before Voldemort’s fall, it came as a shock to her. Her father was a businessman, but he never spoke of specifics and her mother insisted it all be kept away from the twins. The adults would whisper, as they had when Jacob disappeared, but they were far more quiet and careful when it came to Mr. Hearthwood, as if they were afraid. Jamie, however, was angry with her father for being sent to Azkaban and leaving behind the backlash and danger great enough to make them leave the country. Her mother kept much of the details about Mr. Hearthwood’s arrest from the twins, shielding them the same way she did with anything involving what Mr. Hearthwood did. 

Her emotions toward him are complicated.

Love interest: Talbott Winger

Best Friends: Charlie Weasley, Ben Copper (until his distance in 6th year)

Rival: Merula Snyde, Penny Haywood (in Potions)

Enemy: Rakeprick, R., the trick step in the staircase behind the tapestry on the fourth floor corridor

Dormmate: Barnaby Lee, Linden Flint (background angry blond Slytherin boy). From 2nd year on: Merula Snyde, Ismelda Murk, and Liz Tuttle. 

Pets: Waffles Cooper (ginger tabby cat), Whiskerfitz (Jacob’s old owl)

Closest MC Friends: Penny Haywood, Ben Copper, Rowan Khanna, Andre Egwu

BACKGROUND/HISTORY

Vassendra met Damian when she was young and she was instantly swooned by his charm. He had money, charisma, influence, and good looks--well approved by her family as a satisfactory suitor. Within a year of their marriage, Jacob was born on July 10th, 1963. Aiden Vega Hearthwood was born shortly after her twin, Róisín, on October 28th, 1972. Jamie spent the majority of her childhood in the Hearthwood family estate, a manor built by her father, in Gloucestershire, England. In 1980, early into Jacob’s final year at Hogwarts, he was expelled and declared missing shortly after. In 1981, Mr. Hearthwood was arrested for selling contraband (illegally imported magical items) to Death Eaters, and was imprisoned in Azkaban. After Voldemort’s downfall a month later, Vassie took the twins and moved to Ireland to live with her father’s family, thinking distance would protect them. 

PERSONALITY

Positive Traits: Strong-willed, charismatic, cunning, resourceful, adaptive communicator, empathic, confident

Neutral Traits: Observant, insightful, ambitious

Negative Traits: Jealous, manipulative, over-thinks when it comes to others’ reactions, lack of focus, meddlesome, scheming

MISC

Able to see thestrals since fourth year, after witnessing a student affected by the Sleeping Curse die from an unknown poison/venom in the hospital wing.

Learning to play guitar, is okay at it

Whiskerfitz is a small, crazy looking, and easily ruffled owl that used to be Jacob’s. He was an excitable and charming owl, but since his owner's disappearance he’s become neurotic and scared of people. It took the better part of her third year to get Whiskerfitz to trust her enough to approach him. Now he adores Jamie.

She managed to pass History of Magic thanks solely to Rowan and Rose’s help.

Inspired by a text glitch in-game, Jamie had trouble remembering whether Ben’s last name was “Copper” or “Cooper”. To fix this, she named her cat Cooper, so that Ben’s name is the other one. He probably doesn’t know this. 

Notes:

The nickname “Jamie” was born of necessity from so many people mispronouncing Aoibhinn (ee-vahn). When asked, she’d tell people it was short for Jasmine, instead of James, because it’s feminine and fits with her twin’s name, Rose. 

Her alignment started chaotic neutral, but it shifted as her goals became less selfish and more bigger picture, as it were. The Cursed Vaults affected more than just her and her siblings, and she started fighting for more than just her own personal reasons.

Jacob is nine years older than Jamie and her twin. He went missing shortly into his seventh year, three days before their ninth birthday.

The dragon tooth necklace was a gift reward from her mother for her high exam marks at the end of her third year. 

Yes, that is a fourteen year age difference between the mother and father. 

Used @hogwartsmysterystory​‘s HPHM MC template.

[tinkiisms]

Why am I obsessed with Tinkerence? Glad you asked.

To begin with...Tinker Bell’s character in the original story and therefore most adaptations is defined by her unrequited love. She would both kill and die for the one she loves, and that boy doesn’t love her back. In fact, he kind of forgets she exists within the year she (presumably) dies. (Referencing Barrie canon. The rest of this analysis is Disney based so discount that bit but I’m just making a point...)

Of course, it’s not her object of affection’s fault for not returning her feelings--he doesn’t really have it in him and even if he did he wouldn’t be required to love her back. But the way he treats her even as a friend can not be defined as high regard. He will say she’s the best fairy, and that she means more to him than anyone in the world, but actions speak louder than words. He will snap/yell at her, pluck her out of the air by the wing to spank fairy dust out of her unwillingly, swat her away when she’s bothering him and just generally prove through his actions that he’s none too concerned with her feelings. He may love and appreciate her in his own way, in what way he can, but it’s not really good enough for Tink.

When she has her heart broken by Peter Pan, she’s ashamed for more than one reason. She felt betrayed by his sudden lack of interest in her when he brought Wendy to Never Land and spent all his time with her, but she also felt like a betrayer to herself. To her talent, which had gone overlooked and unperformed as she left Pixie Hollow to live with the lost boys. Her old friends--they were terrified even years after she had returned home that if she went on an adventure with Peter again, she wouldn’t come back. They cried.

Tinker Bell hadn’t even told anyone of her feelings for Peter for a long, long time when she came back—the most they knew was that she’d spent time with or was friends with him. She confessed to Mother Dove so, so many years after the fact, that Wendy’s great (great?) granddaughter was near the age to be brought to the island by Peter by that time. And she had become friends with Rani only a few years before that, her first true friend (that she let in, at least) since returning to Pixie Hollow...

Do you know when Peter brought Wendy? 1904. Do you know when Tink finally released her secret to Mother Dove? 2005. A hundred years she spent heartbroken and alone.

Meanwhile, there was one fairy who cared more about Tink than anyone else, and who must have forgiven her for disappearing the moment she returned though she didn’t seem to have rekindled her relationships with Sil, Fawn, Ro and Dess until after she became close with Rani, Prilla, etc. and opened up more.

One fairy who she had steadfastly ignored, because she’s gotten her heart broken before, and didn’t want to endanger it again. Terence. Her first best friend. The sparrow man about whom she answered with a shy “uhhh” when asked once whether they were dating. The one she might have had feelings for before she ever met Peter, but they never defined their relationship past being friends and so it was too late even if she did.

For so long, Terence admires Tink and respects her, and cherishes her, and she refuses to acknowledge his feelings or see his charming smiles toward her, because she is So Viscerally Aware of how bad it hurts to be heartbroken. Because she knows that if she opens up to him and looks at him as a friend, as more than a friend, she’s opening herself up to being hurt again. Because she equates being in love with being broken.

When the fairies get hold of a wand, Tink makes a wish in her bitterness for Peter to fall in love with a clamshell, and Terence makes a wish in his desperation for Tink to like him romantically. She tells him that she broke Peter, and he broke her, but she doesn’t want to be fixed. When he tells her he’s going to reverse the wish, because he didn’t want to take away her choice in her true feelings, she laments that when the romance is gone from her feelings, she will miss him, but she won’t even know that she misses him.

Eventually, there’s a day when they’re separated for hours (they have to capture a dragon, it’s a long story. And there are often situations where Terence is close to a near death experience, or suffering some grievous injury, but his only thoughts are of Tink’s safety. He would do anything for her.)

When they’re separated, there’s an off-page moment where Tink admits that she missed Terence. Now they’re closer than before, she’s blushing at his compliments, and the protagonist says “Good for him at last” indicating that they’ve finally entered a new stage of their slowest-ever-burn relationship.

Terence’s story throughout the series is one of unrequited love, not because the recipient is unable to return the feeling, but by choice. Because she feels too strongly and is afraid of losing her own heart in the process of she lets it happen. Through some of the books, we see moments in which Tink reflects on how much Terence means to her and how she likes him, only to immediately become frustrated and try to push him away. Because she doesn’t want to feel this, she doesn’t want to love anyone again.

She lets him in little by little, he shows up to her workshop often with things for her to repair, they play fairy games together. And eventually he just becomes such a part of her life that she can’t help but miss him the moment he’s gone, even if she doesn’t want to admit to feeling anything more than friendship. It takes a long time before she realizes that it might be okay to let herself be in love, because there’s no one in whose hands her heart would be safer.

And what’s the point of protecting your heart from breaking if it’s aching to be with the one you’re refusing to let in? Might as well take the chance, because you’re hurting either way.

That’s when Tinker Bell finally got her biggest character growth, when she let herself move on and be happy. She doesn’t have to be broken or closed off, she can experience all the joy and love she’s always desired. She can experience the belonging as well as the adventure, having her talent and eating it too. And it’s warm, and bright, and wonderful, and soft.

That’s why Tink/Terence is so special to me, because it’s a combination of friends-to-lovers, hurt/comfort, slow burn, mutual pining as well as unrequited pining, and just every heart-aching sweet trope.

I haven’t even gotten into the chemistry, the dynamic between the two which makes me really feel like they are soulmates, because this is what matters more. Tinker Bell chooses happiness.

Fully knowing the risk, trusting her heart to another, Tink chose Terence. And this romance is very important because as much as her jealousy once defined her and controlled her, her heartbreak then defined and controlled her, the fact that she ultimately chose HAPPINESS and LOVE for her future defines her now. She finally had a choice in the matter and now she controls it herself rather than allowing it to control her.

That’s who the best version of Tinker Bell is, and that’s why I love Tinkerence.

[superiorbiscuits]

“It’s 1907, you’ve never seen a leg before.”

Have you ever had a role that you just totally loved?

This is gonna be a long post about my summer choreographing a community theater production of Oklahoma! and performing as Dream Laurey (and ensemble). A LOT of it is me reiterating some of the compliments I received and I know it seems super braggy and it probably is, but I want to write down the happy things, not the sad ones. I want to remember the good times, and I’ve found over the course of my life that those are harder to remember.

So last summer, when I was choreographing (and an ensemble member in) Annie for this same community theater group (which I talked about here), about three weeks before opening night I heard tell from the guy playing Daddy Warbacks, who I’ll call D, that the next summer he’d be directing Oklahoma! He had directed our show in 2016, and I was excited that he’d be directing again. I was unfamiliar with Oklahoma (the story of how I’m unfamiliar with most musicals is long and emotional, so that’s for another time) so when I got home from rehearsal that night I immediately read the plot summary on Wikipedia and came away dreaming of two things:

1. I really want to choreograph it, because choreographing the Dream Ballet sounded AWESOME

2. I also really really want to play Dream Laurey

That dream festered for the better part of a year. I got the choreographer gig last year at the last minute, but I figured if they were to ask me to do it this year, it’d be around February/March. Well February came and went, and nothing. Sometime in March I was talking to a woman I’ll call K. K takes contemporary and hip hop dance classes with me off and on, and both her mother and older brother have been in every musical I’ve been in. She told me they had offered her the job of stage manager, and a couple weeks later she told me she’d accepted. She then talked about productions meetings they’d started to have, and strongly hinted that the group’s long-time choreographer was back that summer.

I honestly wasn’t hurt. That choreographer is 1. good at choreographing, 2. had been choreographing for this group for several years, and 3. is about ten years older than me. I knew there was a strong possibility that she would return, and they would go with her rather than me. I was disappointed, but not at all surprised. I resigned myself to the hope that I could be Dream Laurey, and comforting myself with the fact that I wouldn’t be as stressed as I was last summer (when, I should note, I was working 16 less hours a week than I do now).

Well, literally one week before auditions I got an email from D with the subject line “Choreographer for Oklahoma” and my heart started POUNDING. Sure enough, I open it to read that the long-time choreographer was supposed to do the show, but had to suddenly drop out to deal with personal family stuff. My thoughts were: oh my gosh, that’s so much work, this is so last minute, I’m working so much at my job omg, but of course I have do this, I’ll hate myself if I don’t. 

And also, wow why was God giving me this incredible gift? (The circumstances of how I got the choreographer gig last summer were eerily similar)

I attended my first production meeting a few days later, to which the rest of the production team were excited to see me and vocalized how happy they were that I was on board once again (most of the team was involved in one way or another last summer too). The next day was the first audition and K came over to where I was doing dance stuff before we started to say that on the news that the other choreographer had to drop out, I was the first name that came up. So I wasn’t D’s first pick, but I was his second, and that was pretty cool. 

Auditions happened, we got a killer principal cast and D allowed me to cast myself as Dream Laurey. We also got a Dream Curly, a guy I didn’t know at all I’ll call J (pictured above), who was not a dancer and had never been in a play before. But he seemed to pick up the dances fast enough during auditions that I cast him in the role. 

The next week we settled how long the Dream Ballet would be, because we had to cut some of it. But I came with my proposed cuts, which were a few sections that I honestly thought were superfluous, and D agreed, and let me keep the rest so the Dream Ballet went from ~13 minutes to 10. 

And then my panic set in. Here’s the list of things that were “firsts” for me in this show, as both a choreographer and a dancer/performer.

First time choreographing a ballet pas de deux

First time teaching a ballet pas de deux

First time dancing a ballet pas de deux

All the same as the above three, but contemporary instead of ballet

First time choreographing a dramatic dance

First time choreographing a fight

First time performing a romantic role

First stage kiss

First time playing the main character (albeit for only ten minutes, but STILL)

First time performing a dramatic role (other than tiny, minor characters)

First featured role in a musical

Additionally, neither the ballet nor the contemporary pas de deux could have any lifts, cause I know how much I weight and I’m not gonna force any guy to pick me up unless he’s a fricking powerlifter. 

So yeah, all of the above = panic.

But I got to work. Rehearsals were... an adventure. I didn’t have nearly as many dance rehearsals allotted to me as I did last year, and really struggled at times with the workload. But the production team was fantastic to work with, we had a good cast, and like a couples weeks before opening night things finally fell enough into place that I realized it wasn’t going to be a disaster and started truly enjoying myself. ALSO I roped in a 16 year-old who’s been in these musicals forever to be my dance captain, which she CRUSHED (like seriously, she helped so so much), and her and another girl were good enough dancers that I was able to dump a lot of choreography on them and they picked it up in no time (like, they danced so much we credited them as “featured dancers” in the program)

The non-Dream Ballet dances were good. Not as fantastically-amazing as I wanted them to be, but good. The Dream Ballet? 

I was so nervous each night. Especially opening night, I was petrified. But I had two amazing scene partners in Dream Curly, and Jud. J calmed himself beforehand by going over the choreograph, I calmed myself by stretching, and giving J a fist bump just before going to our places. Four shows, no major mistakes. Although, the second and third nights I got sweat in my eyes real bad halfway through. I tried to fight it at first, but then I realized I was dancing the sad part anyway, so I just let myself cry a tear or two. The last show I like, legit cried as a combo of sweat in my eyes, being super in character (who like, would understandably cry in that circumstance), and being so sad at it being my last time dancing the role.

I don’t really know how it went, honestly. I think it went well enough that I am satisfied. I have videos from the last few rehearsals, but each performance FELT better than the rehearsals. But people’s reception.... well here are a few highlights of the comments I received, as well as just little random tidbits.

1. First off is SEVERAL people told me I made them cry. The first and most significant was D, who announced it when we were doing a LIVE RADIO INTERVIEW. Like, he interrupted me talking about the Dream Ballet to say “it makes me cry every night” and then there’s like three seconds of silence cause I DIDN’T KNOW THAT AND DIDN’T KNOW HOW TO RESPOND. Another significant one was the woman who played Laurey (also pictured above) (who was always super nice about sharing the role with me and such an encouragement) (Also I’ll came her P).

2. K’s Dad, who has seen at least a decade’s worth of shows put on by this community theater group, told me that this show’s choreo was the best he’d seen. Also K’s boyfriend (whom I had never met before) came up to tell me how amazing the Dream Ballet was.

3. One of our backstage tech ladies (who CRUSHED it, and has been involved in these shows for like a decade) told me her cousin’s girlfriend said “I’ve never seen a ballet before, but if it’s anything like that Dream Ballet I’ll totally go see one” which like DANG what a compliment omg.

4. Not so much a compliment, but our assistant stage manager (I’ll call M) signed on to her job just after auditions, so she wasn’t involved in casting. We knew each other from previous shows though. ANYWAY we got through TWO MONTHS of rehearsals, and were hanging out at Wendy’s after our second-to-last show and I made some comment about J being a friend of P who she brought to auditions and our assistant stage manager was like “I have all this time thought J was your boyfriend.” I was super confused, so i asked for clarification and she was like “yeah I definitely thought y’all were dating and you brought him so that he could play Dream Curly with you.” So like, I guess we had good stage chemistry?

5. ALSO SOMEWHAT RELATED: The first part of the Dream Ballet is the 3-minute ballet pas de deux between myself and Dream Curly, which ends with us kissing and then him running offstage. We rehearsed the Dream Ballet in little tidbits here and there, so the first time most of the cast + crew saw it all together was like a week and a half before we opened, so we were already at the theater, and most of the cast was backstage in the wings waiting for their entrances. And one of my friends in the cast told me all the younger girls (like preteens and early teens) were straining to see and asking each other “are Merilee and J actually kissing?!” Which like, idk it makes me laugh

6. ALSO related: I went to talk to K and M before one performance and they were like “HEY we were talking about the Dream Ballet and how it just appeared, completely finished one day? How did that happen?” Cause they hadn’t realized all the little rehearsals I’d done with people prior to that day. 

7. Three little girls came up to me after a performance to get my autograph and two of them excitedly told me about how they were taking ballet classes and they were ADORABLE.

8. One of the preteens in the cast (who has been in these shows for years and her mom does tech backstage) ‘s dad came up to me after the last show and told how well I danced and what a great job I did with the choreography and then was like “you should dance at weddings! You should have people pay you money to come and have a little stage their wedding reception and dance and people can watch you!” and it was just... I could tell he was very well meaning, but like, dude what a weird thing to say. 

9. An older guy (who played Abernathy when we did Guys and Dolls in 2015) told me he’d seen Oklahoma many many times in his life, but that ours was the best Dream Ballet he’d ever seen.

10. A friend of mine (we were in Guys and Dolls together, but mainly we just talk cause we both love the McElroys) told me at his birthday party like two weeks after he came and saw the show that the Dream Ballet was far and away the best part of the show. 

11. This is something a friend of mine (who was Ms Hannigan in Annie last year and Mammy Yokum in Lil Abner the year before that) posted on my FB like, a week after we closed:

Like what a SWEETHEART.

12. This was something someone commented on a photo a friend posted of us from the show. I do not know this person AT ALL:

13. At a party at D’s house after our Friday night show I was sitting on the porch talking with some of the cast and crew and parents (it was chill and nice) and D and the guy that played Curly were talking about how they had both been in several productions of different shows, the first being when they were in high school, and D said “I guess everyone just has that one show from high school that they’ll do over and over again” and I kinda sighed and was like “I don’t have one since Guys and Dolls in 2015 was my first musical” and D apparently didn’t know that cause he stopped and was like “YOU’RE KIDDING” and I was like nah man, I didn’t start doing musicals until I was 21 and this is my 4th musical and he was so surprised (he was in Guys and Dolls that year, played Nathan Detroit)

14. I also talked to him after our closing show, thanking him for letting me do this and what a dream come true it was (well, I tried to tell him but I started crying) and he said I did a really wonderful job not just with the choreo and dancing but with the acting and I was like “thanks, that’s what I was most nervous about, since I’ve never played a romantic role, or a dramatic role at all” and he like, couldn’t believe it, because I had done such a great job.

15. The final, most incredible thing. During the above conversation, D told me that should he ever be in need of a choreographer in the future (and the likelyhood is that yes, he will be) that I will be the FIRST PERSON HE CALLS. Which if you remember, I was not the first person he called this summer. I still can’t totally process what an amazing compliment that was, but I’m so immensely grateful.

So yeah, long and braggy post, but I really just, want to remember this.

I had so much FUN in this role. I didn’t talk much about that, but man it was so great being Dream Laurey. It’s an experience I won’t soon forget <3

[ofivorywings]

𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩. 𝐖𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐧𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩. 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟. 𝐍𝐨 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐡 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲. 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐲 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬, 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠.

Another character with a terribly long intro. I don’t know how I keep managing this holy shittt. But also some of yall noticed originally I had her as unknown species but I changed that bc I figured out her species and was like nawwww. She don’t know but whatevers. Anywho prepare for sadness and angst! *thumbs up*

Stella Nox was the first and only child of Vaan and Lara Nox. That had much to do with Lara’s death during the birth. Yet Vaan  refused to that influence his love for his daughter. Instead he decided to raise her with all the love he was capable of. Hoping that somehow even without Lara that would be enough. Their last name meant night. So, Lara had decided on the name Stella. Star. She was their starry night. A light in the darkness. Their little girl. 

Vaan struggled with raising Stella on his own, but he managed. At least until Stella started to be able to walk. Once her feet his the ground his baby girl was always wondering around and trying to find new things. She’d been five years old and chasing a butterfly when Stella, too invested in the butterfly, didn’t look where she was going. She ran straight into a young man. A special young man. The prince of the kingdom in which they lived. Avalon’s prince August.

He was the rebellious sort of prince. Also the type to have never even spoken to a child before. So when Stella skimmed her knee and began to cry, instead of looking for a parent or someone who knew her August brought her home to the palace. 

The king had been deceased for the last three years and the queen had ruled. The people loved her, many said she was a better leader then her husband. It was that which irked prince August. He hadn’t an idea how he’d live up to his father’s reign, and then his mother’s began and just how could he live up to that? He didn’t even know how to help a crying five year old. Or that, perhaps he shouldn’t of taken her without even asking her name or if her parents were near. 

Queen Cecilia was a smart woman. The best rule their kingdom had had in a very long time. She took one look at the little girl with a skimmed knee and big wet tears in her eyes and was able to calm her down. Stella’s father, Vaan, had been searching for everywhere he could in the meantime. He had been ready to start a rescue party and trek into dangerous lands when the royal carriage came along. Then there was Stella, holding their queens hand. While everyone bowed instead Vaan ran to his daughter’s side and pulled her into a tight hug. He kissed her forehead and didn’t let go out the small child said Daddy you’re squishing me. 

Vaan thanked their queen for bringing his child home. Then, Queen Cecilia remarked that her son had technically kidnapped her. Then there was tea. Somehow along the way Queen Cecilia’s visits became something of regularity. By the time Stella was seven her father and the queen were engaged.  She even got to be the flower girl. 

There was never intention of Vaan becoming the ruler of Avalon. In fact the suggestion alone was meant with laughter. He loved Cecilia, and thought there was no other who could be a better ruler. Stella was excited for August to become her brother, but the elder boy seemed annoyed with all she did. He was a teenager, almost a adult. No time for childish games. Still, Stella loved him. She loved Cecilia too, and being apart of a family. She loved moving into the castle and going through the gardens. She loved awakening to the birds singing in the morning and talking to the maids while they did their work, even learning how to do some of it on her own. She loved the stories knights would tell, and even wanted to learn how to use a sword. Her father had seemed a bit frightened at the prospect while Cecilia assured she’d teach her when she was older. Above all, however, Stella loved music. All sorts. 

Every time Stella tried to approach August he reminded her again and again they weren’t siblings. They weren’t blood. Yet still, there were moments when it felt like they were. Like when she asked about his adventures he told her every little detail. Smaller moments, when he simply passed by and ruffled her hair without thought. Then bigger ones, like when there was a fire and he had grabbed her so protectively and dragged her to safety.

August was her big brother. No matter what he said. By the time Stella was eight her father and Cecilia were expecting their first child together. August was less accepting of a new little sibling then she was. Yet, when he was finally born August had been the first to hold him after their parents. Then Stella herself (with supervision). Cecilia and Vaan were still undecided on a name by the time Stella’s own birthday came around.  

She was turning nine, one year away from being ten. Double digits! Her father had gotten her a necklace with the number on it at her own behest. Stella wanted all to know she was now 9. Even August had cracked and given into the one present she requested from him. She wanted him to take her to a play. The fight in itself only occurred when he revealed the single ticket. She’d be able to see it, but he wouldn't be with her. For the first since they met Stella was genuinely upset with him, to the point of tears. Her hopes had been up, she was going to be able to spend time with her brother. Once saying so, August was quick to intervene with four simple words. “I’m not your brother!” Then, Stella ran away. Inciting the words Leave me alone! 

Stella ran to the garden. Her favorite place to be, surrounded by flowers. She also liked to sing. So she did, a little lullaby that her father mentioned her mother having loved. After a while to calm down, Stella made her way back inside.

Things were not as she left them. Red stained the floors and walls, body after body dead on the ground. Stella shrieked. She dashed towards where she had seen her father and Cecilia last… only to find her father dead on the ground and Cecilia pinned to the wall with a sword through her chest. Before she could even try and shake them try and wake them up cause they couldn’t be dead– she was grabbed by a maid. The woman was called Krista and she always made the very best cake. She even offered to teach Stella how to cook before. Something that never happened. Krista informed her that the queen was dead. So was her father. But, she would get her out of there safely. She’d protect Stella, the little girl who wa so kind.. However she had to be quiet. 

They were with a handful of other maids, many Stella knew. So Stella tried to remain as quiet as she could, though the thoughts of August and her unnamed little brother were intrusive. She succeeded in remaining quiet. But it wasn’t enough. They were caught in the end. However…. Stella herself never was seen. Krista was stabbed through her back and collapsed upon the little girl. Stella hit her head on the floor, and in the chaos she was unable to stay afloat. She awoke covered in bodies. Other maids had followed suite with Krista’s actions, using their deaths to protect the little girl they cared for. Leaving their bodies atop of her in a pile of corpses. 

Stella was trapped under them for quite sometime. She’d barely been able to breath, and light hurt her eyes when it finally blared through. It was villagers, probably here to pillage the castle. A kindly old man, he helped her out. Then Stella ran. 

She was scared– so scared. She wanted to find August, she wanted to find their little brother. She kept on running and running until she crossed from their world into the human one. Straight into the street where a car hit her.

The little girl had already been disoriented from the trauma, hitting her head on the pavement made it easier for her mind to hide all the memories that hurt her so badly.  

Then she became a nameless little girl on the streets on New York. No identity, no memories, no nothing. Yet somehow, she survived. She met another on the streets. He called himself Rascal. She had no idea what it meant yet laughed her heart out anyway. He, like her, was on a kid on the streets. He brought her ‘home’. There was a ton of them, all boys. There was a leader of them, elder then the rest but not by much. He introduced himself as Pete. Like Peter Pan, he had explained. Except more grown up. She had no idea what Peter Pan was. Which was why Pete decided to show her. 

They had a tiny little TV, hooked up to electricity that wasn’t theirs and a stack of DVDs. Then they watched the movie. The moving pictures were enchanting to the small girl. It was only after the credits were rolling did Pete even realize he hadn’t asked the girls name or age. She didn’t know either. He saw the 9 on her neck and decided, well of course that had to be 9. However her name was much harder. One of the boys, Louder, he called himself (though she doubted it was his real name) he suggested Wendy. Pete reacted with venom to that and instead suggested Jane. So she became Jane. 

Time passed. Jane became acquainted with the streets of New York and how to survive upon them. Then one day Pete brought home a girl. She told them to call her Wendy, but she had heard Pete call her Miley. Peter had said she’d be like their mom, in the same way he was like their dad. However she wasn’t like Wendy at all, not motherly. She was more like those Mermaids, jealous of anything Pete looked at that wasn’t her.

Then came the day Pete looked at Jane in a way that felt like he’d done something wrong. It was that same night she knew why. Miley had dragged her out, Jane didn't even remember the excuse. There were men there, the kind Pete had warned her to stay away from. They handed Miley some money and she looked so smug. Then Jane ran like hell. 

She heard the angry yells behind her, screams to stop. She ran into Rascal. Tumbled into him, actually. When they met she was taller then him. Now he was taller then her. Then she continued running. She ran and she ran, knowing that there wasn’t any home to go back to.

Jane thought about that day many times since. She wondered if Pete had known, then she remembered that look on his face and realized Yes. He had. He had to. There was no way he hadn’t. So she got by on her own. There was little choice in the matter. She hadn’t ever gotten the chance to see that second movie. Why the name Jane was chosen. So instead she thought of herself as Jane Doe. 

Then she met Theo. She was 11 and he was 9, and had she been so much of a headache back then? He was small, and he was alone. Just like she’d been. The difference was that she wouldn't betray him like they had betrayed her. She would protect him in the way she hadn’t been protected. 

Though Jane decided to protect him, she had no intention of liking him or loving him. Both happened anyway.  Theo was infectious. In the sort of way that he made you smile even when you were trying to be serious and angry. Theo became Theo. Her Theo. Who she gave piggy back rides to, and who let her be clingy even once they began to grow. 

Then they were the Coopers. It was one night, a good night. Laughing despite the fact it was cold and they didn’t have much warmth. They were speaking, two people who spent almost all time together yet were able to speak together hours on end. They decided that someday, somehow, they were gonna be normal. Normal as could goddamn be. They needed a goddamn normal name of course. Jones? No. Smith? Yuck. Cooper? Cooper. They were the Coopers. 

By the time she turned 17 Jane somehow obtain a honest job. She hadn’t intended to, except then she was getting money and it was actual good money? Suddenly small things became affordable. Then big things. She even began to play music. For some reason, people like it. Then, by the time she was 20, she had a home. Actually a dingy apartment but it made do. However, while her life had brightened Theo’s had darkened. Drinks, drunks, anything you could think of he’d name it. It scared her and Jane had no clue what to do about it. 

So she offered him her couch and thank god he took it. Men and their pride was a scary thing. Yet, she did have one rule Just one. He had to stop using. It was killing him and Jane couldn’t bare to see him gone. Theo was her little brother. Blood or not.

He didn't abide by the deal, except Theo was her little brother and she’d rather him be with her then on the streets. Even if he refused to stop using, she had to be there for him. She was all he had. He was all she had.  Then one day there was a note and no Theo. Just a note giving excuses why he wasn't here. Well, actually they were heartfelt words but all she all could she think was dammit as she read it because she couldn't see straight. Her vision was too blurry from tears. When she finally was able to read the note she sobbed the whole night. 

Then, she waited. Hoping and praying Theo would come back. Knock on her door, just be there. She was frightened beyond belief. That one day she’d get a call about his body turning up, or see his face on the news. She was also scared that it wouldn’t. That he’d be buried somewhere in a unmarked grave never to be heard from again. That she’d been holding out for someone who was dead. 

It took five months before Jane went down to the police station to file for a missing person. The cop was a dick. Your brother isn’t missing. He said. He’s a junkie who left. Jane had been ready to deck him, when another cop came over to stop the altercation. 

The funny thing is though, Jane recognized those eyes anywhere. So instead of stopping mid punch she went for the stomach. All other cops went to apprehend her only for Pete to yell ‘Don’t!’ and then a small ‘I deserved that’. Then, she turned and attempted to storm away. 

“Jane!” He said, and she couldn't help but notice he retained that boyish sound to his voice. She turned fast and poked hard, right in his chest in a way she knew to be bothersome. “You don’t deserve to be a cop! You deserve shit!” And Pete agreed. He also said he was going by Peter now. He made no excuse, no attempt at one. Just a heartfelt apology, one she didn’t accept. But she did accept his offer to keep an eye out for Theo. Any reports of a junkie, OD victim, any of it, he’d make sure it wasn’t him. Sometimes he’d even see if they knew him for her. 

Two years passed, and while Jane has yet to forgive him she greets him with less disdain. She did learn that he hadn’t actually known, he had suspected. He also said he came to stop it after she’d already run. Jane couldn’t bring herself to care, because if she hadn’t run and he’d been too late. Well, it would of been too late. Sometimes they talked about things beyond her brother. Sometimes they didn’t. Theo still was on her mind each and every day. Fear for him, hope for him and sometimes just quiet tears that wouldn’t stop cause she missed him so damn much.

She never left her dingy apartment. She couldn’t. Jane feared that if she did, when Theo did come back, he wouldn't know how to find her. Which was what made being forced into San Francisco so damn heartbreaking. How’d Theo find her now?

[elsdell]

Ruthless (Part II)

‘Ruthless’ Summary  Follow Rufio’s story from the day he arrived in Neverland to the day of his death. A story in which, you could say, Peter and Wendy Pan become true parents. 

Part II Summary In which baby Rufio grows into a toddler. He takes his first steps and speaks his first word. How will Peter’s affections show? Read on to find out!

Contrary to what Wendy initially thought, Peter did succumb to the new addition’s innocent charms and began to treat Rufio like his own son.

As Rufio started to grow, Wendy became curious as to how the magic Peter had cast some time after the baby boy's arrival actually worked. He explained to his queen how Rufio would continue to age as he would have in his world, but he would stop aging when the boy-king willed it. So, Wendy used her son’s age to measure the flow of time in her world. But, alas, they were in Neverland, so the time seemed to flow much slower than it actually did.

As for the Lost Boys, they adored their little brother. He grew into quite the cute little toddler with dark hair, big round dark eyes and olive skin. Even Father seemed smitten and it made Wendy’s heart soar to see his reaction when Rufio said his first word, when he took his first steps. Although, the boy still slept between his parents at night on the bed, right up until he was able to walk, well, on unstable legs - with trustworthy supervision, of course.

The first time Rufio was set on the jungle floor, on his own two plump little feet, was on a pale yellow morning in the clearing where the camp resided. Wendy, although a little doubtful of the exact time passed since her king had cast that magic on the boy’s baby form, was concerned. Although unsure of the amount of time that had passed, she was almost certain that Rufio should have taken his first steps by now. 

However, she had no one to voice her worries to. The boys knew little to none about babies and their growth, and when she spoke to Tink, well...

~

- I’m worried, Tink! Shouldn’t Rufio have started learning to walk by now? Wendy had asked her green fairy friend - her closest friend - that day in the fair-haired fairy’s treehouse. 

Tink’s bright green eyes examined the sight before her. Wendy was gently bouncing Rufio on her knee and each time he tried to squirm away from her grasp to crawl onto the two-seater, she pulled him back up.  Raising an eyebrow, Tink replied: 

- Well, that’s probably because you molly coddle him too much. 

Wendy couldn’t help but feel irritated by that remark, watching as green eyes looked her up and down. 

This failed attempt at confiding in a dear friend had spurred Wendy to talk to Peter that following evening - although not about the whole worry of when Rufio would take his first steps, but about his own opinion. 

- Peter, she started in her cave that night, hand on her king’s chest while propping herself up slightly to meet his eyes. 

- Mm... he responded in a groan as he was brought down from his height of bliss, tilting his head down to meet his queen’s eyes. Although, he did raise an eyebrow questioningly. 

Ignoring his expression, Wendy continued: 

- Do you think I molly coddle Rufio too much? 

Whether he was lying or not was beside the point. The girl was killing him, bringing him down from his high to ask something like that! So, he answered so he could close his eyes and imagine he was still in that heavenly state of bliss: 

- No, Bird. 

His queen smiled with satisfaction, returning her head to his chest, listening to his heartbeat while watching their adopted baby boy sleeping soundly in his cradle at the foot of the bed, which Peter had fashioned for him that morning so that he could spend...quality time with his queen once more. 

~ Back to the present time at Camp...~

Wendy was sat on Peter’s throne, Rufio on her knee while he was yet again training the Lost Boys. This time by holding an archery competition. Some of the younger ones - the likes of Tootles, Cubby and the Twins - were crowded round the throne, occasionally making a fuss of their baby brother, opting out of the archery contest since they preferred the blade more. Hence why they rarely went out hunting with Father and the other Lost Boys.

Upon recounting that conversation with Tink and the lie Peter had told her - she’d known him long enough by now to know when he wasn’t being honest with his queen - Wendy decided it was time to prove to them that she did not molly coddle her son. So saying, with the younger boys staring at her in curiosity, Wendy leaned forward to, for once, let Rufio out of her arms, off her knee to explore the jungle floor for a little bit. 

But, instead of falling onto his backside like he usually would back in her cave when Wendy would set him down - like his adoptive mother and brothers watching him expected him to - Rufio remained standing. A hopeful gleam shone in Wendy’s big brown eyes as they widened in astonishment, staring intently as he put a foot forward. Then another...then another step...

- Peter! Wendy called with a squeal, barely able to contain her excitement. 

The boy-king’s heart pounded. Who had dared enter the glade and attack his queen? However, confusion washed over him when he and the boys spun round sharply, halting the competition. There was no one there!

- What? he responded, slightly irked, looking for answers as to why his queen had called him as if she were in danger - when it was plain to see she wasn’t. Couldn't she see the boys were in the middle of a game? 

- Come here, she answered simply, sounding awestruck. 

Curiosity getting the better of him, Peter advanced towards his throne, eyebrow cocked, the older Lost Boys following close at his heels. Then, when he reached the throne, standing directly opposite Wendy, his mysterious green eyes widened just as Wendy’s had. 

There the little boy was: slowly taking one shaky step at a time forward. He was taking his first steps! 

Not a soul in the clearing wasn’t surprised. Even Felix, who had somewhat secluded himself at the edge of the camp, couldn’t take his eyes off the scene before him. 

Almost as if relying completely on instinct, Peter lowered himself to a crouch. Rufio started stalking towards him until gradually, he stumbled and fell into the boy-king’s waiting arms. 

Straightening himself up, Peter rested the infant against his side, a look of pride in his eyes. A tear sprung to Wendy’s eye before she got to her feet and made her way towards the pair. 

- I can’t believe it... she breathed. 

Peter had no reply. There were ultra rare moments in which he would be rendered speechless. This would definitely count as one of those moments - precious and held dear to the King of Neverland’s queen’s heart. 

She still remembered when the precious babe first spoke the words “Mama” and “Dada”. The look on Peter’s face when he said “Dada” first was that of triumph (he and Wendy had been debating which word the infant would say first), adoration and pride. The look then almost mirrored the look he was wearing at that moment perfectly. 

Of course, there had been times when Rufio had done something for the first time and it had just not provoked a reaction out of Peter. For instance, when the boy laughed for the first time, Wendy had been playing with him in her cave just as Peter was getting dressed to take the Lost Boys out on another adventure. 

Wendy had clapped her hands, squealed and grinned, turning to face Peter, expecting some kind of reaction when she told him what had got her so excited. He had merely shrugged before taking his leave. 

However, his reactions to Rufio’s first steps and first word was enough to make up for times like that. 

Author’s Note:  Sorry that this chapter was shorter than the last but it was late when I wrote the last bit of it and I don’t want to write too much in one chapter. I hope you enjoyed this one. I should be writing a third part to ‘Ruthless’ very soon. 

[robotlit]

“Wendy”

Day 4 of the AI Film Festival — in which I watch movies at the Sundance Film Festival, explain their premises to AI Dungeon 2, and let it write a new plot. Today’s entry is Benh Zeitlin‘s Wendy, a modern magical realist retelling of Peter Pan. But what if... it was all a terrible video game?

[PROMPT: You are a young girl named Wendy, living near a railway with a mother who gave up her dreams to raise her children. One night, you see a strange boy on a train outside your window. You jump onto the train with your brothers and follow the boy to a magical island where children can live and never grow up.] Now you must find your way home!

*

The Island of Lost Children is an adventure game that takes place in a world where children can grow up forever. It features simple puzzles, beautiful graphics and catchy music. The story is told through letters between the characters as they travel across the island.

Features:

Simple puzzles that will make you smile!

Beautiful graphics and music! 

A story about a group of children who have grown up together.

An original soundtrack by David "Ziggy" Ziegler.

This game requires an internet connection for online play.

(Purchase a copy of the game "The Island of Lost Children")

The Island of Lost Children was created by a team of three people:

David Ziegler - Programmer, Game Designer, Artist. 

Nathan Blythe - Art Director, Graphic Designer.

Benjamin Gaffney - Music Composer.

(Play the game "The Island of Lost Children")

You start off on the island of Lost Children. Your goal is to get back home. There are many different paths to take, but each path has its own challenges. You'll need to solve some puzzles along the way if you want to reach your destination safely!

There are two ways to play this game:

Play it offline, without an Internet Connection. This mode allows you to explore the island freely. However, you won't be able to save your progress or see other players' games.

Play it online, with an Internet Connection. In this mode, you can save your game anywhere on the island and share it with others. The more people playing at once, the better!

(Play "The Island of Lost Children" with an internet connection)

You're in luck! The internet connection works perfectly here on the island of Lost Children. You can now continue your journey home!

*

You walk through the jungle, following a trail that leads you to a small lake.

You look around and notice that there's no one else here. No boats have come in to fish out any food, so all you've got left is what you brought with you. You decide to go inside the cave where you found the first note.

It's dark, but you manage to find a light switch. As soon as you do, the lights come on inside the cave and you hear a voice coming from above.

"Hello, little one."

"Who are you?"

"I am the creator of this world. I created you to help me guide my creation."

You sit down on a rock and listen closely for more words. You don't hear anything else, though.

(Realize you must be a video game character)

You stand up and walk over to the wall. A screen pops up, showing a black screen with white text. It reads:

Welcome to the Island of Lost Children!

(Attempt to escape the video game)

You press the button to turn off the screen. Then, you try to leave the room...

But you're trapped! You can't move, and you can't even close your eyes! You just lie there, unable to do anything except wait for death.

Suddenly, the screen goes black again. You feel like you've been transported back to another place entirely...

You open your eyes, only to see that you're still lying on the ground. You look around and notice that there's no-one here. No boats have come in to fish out any food, so all you've got left is what you brought with you.

You decide to go inside the cave where you found the first note.It's dark, but you manage to find a light switch. As soon as you do, the lights come on inside the cave and you hear a voice coming from above.

"Hello, little one."

"Who are you? No. We've done this before. Let me out of here!"

The screen goes black. The screen comes back on, showing a man standing next to you. He looks at you, smiling, and then he walks away.

(Follow the man)

You follow him through the darkness. Eventually, you reach a door with a keyhole on it. You push the door open and step inside.

Inside, you find yourself in an office area with several computers connected to each other by cables. There's also a large table with various items on it. On the table sits a man, who appears to be in his late twenties or early thirties. His hair is brown and he has pale skin. He wears glasses and carries himself with an air of confidence about him.

"Are you my creator?"

He smiles at you. "Yes, I am."

"Then why did you create me?"

"I wanted to make sure that whatever happened would be different than anything we had experienced before. So far, nothing bad has happened to us.”

(Run away into the real world)

You quickly run towards the exit, but he catches up to you. "Little one, I'm afraid that you won't get out of here alive."

"What do you mean?”

(Struggle futilely to escape)

"You don't understand! This isn't real! It's just a game for me to test my creations against each other. I can take them anywhere, but they'll never be able to leave this room."

"But how will you know if they're successful? How will you know if they're strong enough to survive the journey?"

"They'll always be weak compared to me. They'll never be able to stand up against me and I'll always win."

"How do you know this won't destroy us all?"

“If I lose, I'll die too. If I win, then everything will be fine."

"But what if you lose?"

"Then there won't even be any more games. Then we'll all die because we're not strong enough to live without each other."

"So…”

(Kill your creator)

You turn around and walk towards him. He raises his hand as you approach, and you feel a cold sensation run down your spine. A sharp pain shoots through your chest, burning like fire. Your body convulses as blood spurts from the wound.

(Think longingly about the Island of Lost Children)

Your eyes widen as you realize what you've done. The pain subsides, but the coldness remains. You feel your heart begin to pound again as you fall backwards onto the floor.

The man stands over you, smiling. "That was fun while it lasted," he says. "Now let's see if I can keep you here forever."

[suezycreamcheese]

The world just got a little luckier, today; a little brighter. My oldest daughter, Emily, graduated from Mount Royal University this morning; her beautiful face beaming with joy. With this degree, she adds one more First to her list; one of many. She was the First person in my life that I ever worried about. I was told she had Intrauterine Growth Retardation when I was just 16 weeks along in my pregnancy; she just stopped growing. My OB/GYN told me there were only 2 possible outcomes: she would survive and be a midget (no joke), or she would not survive; my placenta was only working at 50% capacity and she wasn’t getting the nutrients she needed. He told me that we could induce labor when I had reached my 23rd week, and hope to give her the care she needed to thrive; but I had to at least get my pregnancy past 23 weeks because the state of Texas would not allow medical intervention for preemies born before that mark. With that goal in mind, I was put on total bedrest so she could have the full attention of my body and all the oxygen and nutrients that I otherwise would have used if I were up and running around. We played music on my tummy, I wrote and painted in my journal while talking to her, we read her poems, and I read books to her that I checked out of the library by the shelfful; all murder mysteries (now thankful they had no effect on her). We watched every episode of Murder She Wrote and The Scarecrow and Mrs. King, from beginning to end. And I ate cheese; so much cheese. We can thank the Women, Infants, Children program (WIC) for all the blessed cheese, milk, and Life Cereal I could possibly eat. It worked. Every week, I had an ultrasound to check on her, and they gave me a sugary drink to get her to kick. I was told, if I could count 10 kicks in the span of one hour every day, she was doing ok. We had a C-section scheduled for the end of my 36th week, but days before the scheduled time, Emmy decided to jump out on her own; she was my First big surprise; she was my First child. When I looked into her eyes I realized that she was my First love as well. My doctor laughed when he reported her weighing in at 6lbs 14oz; he said it was good she was a preemie, because if she had gone full term, she would have been a 10lb baby…all that cheese! It turned out that Emily was his First baby patient to bounce back so perfectly from IUGR; one more for her brand new list of Firsts.

As Emmy grew, I followed the advice in all my baby books, preparing for every step. Well. Most babies start babbling “mama/dada” by 6 months and 2-3 word sentences between 18months and 2 years. They also typically begin walking around 9months. My baby? She started with the “mama/dada” and moved straight into full sentences. By her yearly exam, she hadn’t begun to walk, however, and I worried. The doctor looked me in the eye and reminded me, “Emily asks for anything she wants – she can clearly communicate to you…what motivation does she have to actually get up and walk to something she would like? She asks politely for the toy from her bedroom, and you run off to bring it to her. Stop. She won’t like it, but she will eventually learn that she needs to get what she wants by walking to what she wants. All will be well.”

She learned her First little lesson in life; sometimes you have to get what you want by rising to your feet and pursuing it on your own.

Then we moved to California and I needed to work, so poor Emily had to go to Daycare for the First time, crying all the way; crying every morning. We eventually fell into a routine and a morning ritual that would calm her down by the time we arrived at the Daycare Center. Every day we would drive from our tiny apartment in Seaside, to the Daycare Center at the Defense Language Institute. Along the way, to distract her from her sadness, we would say, “Look, Emmy! There is the big tree! And as we passed it, we said, “Hi tree! Bye-bye tree!” “Look Emily, there’s the ocean! Hi Ocean! Bye-bye Ocean!” And our favorite was, “LOOK! The Car Tunnel!” As we drove through it (the last thing before entering DLI), “Hi Tunnel! Bye-bye Tunnel!” She learned that those things would remain there while she was in Daycare, and we could do the reverse routine on our way home. To this day, I’m not sure whether Emily does this or not, but I still whisper under my breath when driving through any tunnel, “Hi Tunnel, Bye Tunnel.” Unfortunately, one of the worst Firsts she had to put on her list was that we worked such horrible hours in the hotel industry, and she was always the First to be dropped off at Daycare, and last to be picked up. Through it all, though, she managed to keep her sunny smile and we enjoyed our days off together.

I was a bit overprotective of Emily; I remember when we met my husband, Markus, for the First time; he was shocked that I wouldn’t even let her climb the slides at the park. He proceeded, over the years, to teach her how to climb trees, and how to ride a bicycle; she had her First adventures because he entered our lives. My girlie girl in the ruffled dresses suddenly became rough and tumble and trailed after him like a puppy. He became her First idol.

Eventually, after dating for a year, we flew to Markus’ hometown in Bavaria to meet his family. We were so nervous; the only advice he was given before going to America was, “Whatever you do, don’t fall in love with an American Woman!” They’d had bad impressions from another American Woman through a different member of their family, and wanted to make sure Markus didn’t make a similar mistake. Well whaddayaknow, not only did he fall in love with an American Woman, but she was a Divorced American Woman…with a Child from her Previous Marriage. Oh the scandal! Needless to say, I was incredibly stressed, ready to jump down anyone’s throat who dared to say anything unkind to my baby. I shouldn’t have worried so. Emily worked her First magic spell that day at the Munich airport. One look at her, and Markus’ mother fell to her knees and exclaimed, “Call me Oma!” Emmy celebrated her 3rd birthday during that enchanting visit, returning home having wrapped each family member around her little fingers.

Emily’s First time at a wedding was when we all got married. I say “we” to include her, because we recited our wedding vows to her, promising to love her and be a family together. I don’t know if she fully understood the solemnity of our promises; she spent most of the time swinging from our joined hands; about all that can be expected from a 3yr old. Oh, let me not forget to mention another first…On the morning of our wedding, I went to get my hair done and on the way home suddenly fell ill. I may or may not have pulled over into the parking lot of a 7Eleven and, being too embarrassed to get sick in a parking lot, barfed all over the inside of my car. I made it home, a smelly mess, shaky and feverish; Markus cleaned up the car, cleaned up his bride-to-be, and whisked us away to Monastery Beach, in Carmel, to be married by our good friend Colette. At the wedding dinner at Il Fornio (fancy for us), I sat, white as a sheet, while Emily and Markus tucked in and devoured their meals. All of a sudden, Emily sat up and picked up the barf baton; and she ran with it. Markus made it almost to bed time before he succumbed. I think we had only one day off before returning to work, and we spent it taking care of each other. I could say it was Emmy’s First family drama, but I passed it over for First Time Learning What Not to Say. That weekend, I brought my car to the car wash and asked them to detail it. I was in the middle of pointing out the gunk in the gaps between the gear shift and the seats, and little Emily pops her head in the door and squeals, “YAH! We gotta clean that UP! Mama barfed ALL over the place – it was SO GROSS!” I wish I could say that was the First and last time Emily has made me want to laugh (or cry!) and pretend she was someone else’s child because of “oversharing.” We’ll not reminisce about the “Painkiller” pitchers of potion we imbibed in the Caribbean, after snorkeling, and the cute young man that enchanted her…and how she thought she was whispering her admiration of him to us as we trailed behind him back to the ship, but she forgot to turn down the volume…ahhh, good times.

More relevantly, Emily’s First day of school was epic. Markus and she walked to the elementary school just a couple of blocks from our house, a few days before school started, just to get the lay of the land. She was hopping up and down from excitement. One of the classroom doors was open, with a teacher working inside, and Markus told Em, “This is a kindergarten classroom – this might even be YOUR classroom! Doesn’t it look fun?” Emily, jumping up and down, “oh yes! OH YES!” The teacher came to the door, smiled at Emily, and asked her, “What is your name?” And Emily, in classic Sound of Music style, marched one step forward, said, “Emily!” and marched one step back, grinning her front-teeth-missing goofy grin. The teacher, Ms. Wendy Tuffli, fell in love with our silly girl, and after they went home, she did her own marching into the school office and told them, “That girl? Emily something? I want her.” And she became Emily’s First teacher; you should have seen the glorious look on Emmy’s face on the first day of school, when she found out who her teacher was. Ms. Tuffli was Emily’s First inspiration; someone that Emily grew up wanting to be, and is now going to learn how to be.

Emily’s First time becoming a big sister happened while she was in kindergarten. She adored her baby sister, Hanna. Again, another unfortunate First came along. Emily caught the chicken pox and passed it on to 2 week old Hanna. Hanna only got one giant pox on her forehead; it made us giggle to see them together.

Emily met her First lifelong friend, Natalie, while we lived in California. They met at the swimming pool and it was friendship at First sight. We actually moved to Pacific Grove because of that little lady; they both went to Forest Grove Elementary School together. They also celebrated their First Communion together. Last year Emily flew out to Arizona to cheer her on as Natalie graduated from her university.

Before we moved to Pacific Grove, we also have to note that Emily had her First and only Around the Corner Friend. My friend, JJ, lived around the corner from our house, and her daughter Emma, and Emily played together. We called them Em&Em. They shared their First friendship sandwich together; a very cool thing. You take a giant loaf of French bread, like a baguette, cut it open and load on everything you could ever dream of in a sandwich. Then, the 2 friends chow down on their respective ends of the sandwich until they meet in the middle. It was a big hit in our house.

This might be the best First of all. From the time we married and I changed my name, Emily was the only one left in the house with the surname Pierce. For a time, her birth father permitted us to hyphenate her last name, when she became aware of things in Kindergarten. But things became harder for her. Hanna was born…Johanna Treppenhauer. Then Simon was born…Simon Treppenhauer. She grew sadder and sadder. Back in preschool, one of the teachers insisted that Emily refer to Markus as her “Stepdad” instead of Papa Markus. Emily argued; she said that she had 2 Papas: Papa Scott and Papa Markus, and what was a Stepdad anyway? After the complicated list of proper labels for families of divorce was explained to her, and being told that, according to her stupid stupid stupid preschool teacher, Papa Markus was not actually blood-related to her, she came home a sobbing mess. Why wasn’t she blood related to Papa? What WAS blood related, anyway?! Was Papa not her Papa because he was a Stepdad instead? That was her First heartbreak. I can’t say I reacted well. Much inner-cursing of the preschool teacher, much outer crying for the loss of happy innocence. We tried to tell her that labels were not needed in our family and Papa was Papa because of the love in our hearts; but she could not be consoled. Sudden I remembered my father, when I was little, swearing himself as Blood Brother with a close friend, and the ceremony involved, I jumped to my feet and cried, “QUICK! Peel your knee scab! Markus, peel that scab on your arm!” And I grabbed their limbs and squished them together, scab to scab. Gross, but effective. I now pronounce you Blood Related. And that alone could have been the best of all. But there is more. When Emmy was in kindergarten, things became very difficult and messy with her birth father. She began to have nightmares. We took legal action to protect her. In the end, her birth father gave us permission for Markus to adopt her. She was turning 10 at that time. She spoke to her birth father and thanked him for giving her the greatest birthday gift she could ever have asked for; to be able to share the same last name as her brother and sister, and to finally feel 100% part of the family. Her First day as a Treppenhauer was a great day.

Years passed, our family grew, and we moved to Hawaii. The Big Island was the First place we ever lived where Emily blended in – she had a wonderful 5 years there, living like an island girl, making friends and loving the sun. I think she may have left her heart back there. When she was halfway through 10th grade, we moved to Banff. Her First time in a foreign country; her First time learning the importance of being diplomatic (“Whaddaya mean I can’t loudly argue with my social studies class about America? We’re GREAT!”). And another not so great First. For the First time, Emily struggled with school. She struggled so hard that she started to hate it. It took just one teacher and the damage was so bad we worried she wouldn’t make it to university. Not surprisingly, Emily decided to take a gap year before going on to college. She felt so bad about school, though, and in hindsight, it was good for her to take that break. She worked in town and tried to save for college. Then, Markus was transferred to Jasper. All of a sudden, Emmy would have to live on her own for the First time. Broken-hearted, we urged her to stay where she was and see it as practice for living at university in the Fall. She was brave. She was braver than I have ever known her to be.

And she did it! All of a sudden, it was Fall and her First day of school all over again. I drove down from Jasper to help her move into her dorm. Car packed to the ceiling, we made that journey together. I thought I couldn’t be prouder.

I’ve never been more wrong. Today, I look back at her life and think, “she’s already accomplished so much! How can she top this?” But she already has. Through her shining example of perseverance in the pursuit of a higher education, I have been taking my prerequisite classes to attend nursing school. Markus is going to enroll in school to work towards his MBA. Hanna is finishing up her first year at the University of Washington. There is going to be a day or two over the next two years when all of our lives will align and every member of this family will be enrolled in a university at the same time. She is my First inspiration. I know this seems like a lot just to say, “Happy Graduation,” but there is so much more I didn’t even have time to include. One day, I want the opportunity and time to sit down and write out all the bright details of her wonderful life. From her giant gap toothed smile on the first day of kindergarten, to this, her beautiful, serene smile on her last day of school; what a transformation. Whenever that time comes, I just know there will be a mountain of new adventures to share with the world. Emily will be off to her Master’s program at the University of Calgary in the Fall. Another First day of school. Please join me in my cheering; BRAVO EMILY!!!

First to Fly The world just got a little luckier, today; a little brighter. My oldest daughter, Emily, graduated from Mount Royal University this morning; her beautiful face beaming with joy.

[readbookywooks]

The Happy Home

One important result of the brush [with the pirates] on the lagoon was that it made the redskins their friends. Peter had saved Tiger Lily from a dreadful fate, and now there was nothing she and her braves would not do for him. All night they sat above, keeping watch over the home under the ground and awaiting the big attack by the pirates which obviously could not be much longer delayed. Even by day they hung about, smoking the pipe of peace, and looking almost as if they wanted tit-bits to eat.

 They called Peter the Great White Father, prostrating themselves [lying down] before him; and he liked this tremendously, so that it was not really good for him.

 "The great white father," he would say to them in a very lordly manner, as they grovelled at his feet, "is glad to see the Piccaninny warriors protecting his wigwam from the pirates."

 "Me Tiger Lily," that lovely creature would reply. "Peter Pan save me, me his velly nice friend. Me no let pirates hurt him."

 She was far too pretty to cringe in this way, but Peter thought it his due, and he would answer condescendingly, "It is good. Peter Pan has spoken."

 Always when he said, "Peter Pan has spoken," it meant that they must now shut up, and they accepted it humbly in that spirit; but they were by no means so respectful to the other boys, whom they looked upon as just ordinary braves. They said "How-do?" to them, and things like that; and what annoyed the boys was that Peter seemed to think this all right.

 Secretly Wendy sympathised with them a little, but she was far too loyal a housewife to listen to any complaints against father. "Father knows best," she always said, whatever her private opinion must be. Her private opinion was that the redskins should not call her a squaw.

 We have now reached the evening that was to be known among them as the Night of Nights, because of its adventures and their upshot. The day, as if quietly gathering its forces, had been almost uneventful, and now the redskins in their blankets were at their posts above, while, below, the children were having their evening meal; all except Peter, who had gone out to get the time. The way you got the time on the island was to find the crocodile, and then stay near him till the clock struck.

 The meal happened to be a make-believe tea, and they sat around the board, guzzling in their greed; and really, what with their chatter and recriminations, the noise, as Wendy said, was positively deafening. To be sure, she did not mind noise, but she simply would not have them grabbing things, and then excusing themselves by saying that Tootles had pushed their elbow. There was a fixed rule that they must never hit back at meals, but should refer the matter of dispute to Wendy by raising the right arm politely and saying, "I complain of so-and-so;" but what usually happened was that they forgot to do this or did it too much.

 "Silence," cried Wendy when for the twentieth time she had told them that they were not all to speak at once. "Is your mug empty, Slightly darling?"

 "Not quite empty, mummy," Slightly said, after looking into an imaginary mug.

 "He hasn't even begun to drink his milk," Nibs interposed.

 This was telling, and Slightly seized his chance.

 "I complain of Nibs," he cried promptly.

 John, however, had held up his hand first.

 "Well, John?"

 "May I sit in Peter's chair, as he is not here?"

 "Sit in father's chair, John!" Wendy was scandalised. "Certainly not."

 "He is not really our father," John answered. "He didn't even know how a father does till I showed him."

 This was grumbling. "We complain of John," cried the twins.

 Tootles held up his hand. He was so much the humblest of them, indeed he was the only humble one, that Wendy was specially gentle with him.

 "I don't suppose," Tootles said diffidently [bashfully or timidly], "that I could be father.

 "No, Tootles."

 Once Tootles began, which was not very often, he had a silly way of going on.

 "As I can't be father," he said heavily, "I don't suppose, Michael, you would let me be baby?"

 "No, I won't," Michael rapped out. He was already in his basket.

 "As I can't be baby," Tootles said, getting heavier and heavier and heavier, "do you think I could be a twin?"

 "No, indeed," replied the twins; "it's awfully difficult to be a twin."

 "As I can't be anything important," said Tootles, "would any of you like to see me do a trick?"

 "No," they all replied.

 Then at last he stopped. "I hadn't really any hope," he said.

 The hateful telling broke out again.

 "Slightly is coughing on the table."

 "The twins began with cheese-cakes."

 "Curly is taking both butter and honey."

 "Nibs is speaking with his mouth full."

 "I complain of the twins."

 "I complain of Curly."

 "I complain of Nibs."

 "Oh dear, oh dear," cried Wendy, "I'm sure I sometimes think that spinsters are to be envied."

 She told them to clear away, and sat down to her work-basket, a heavy load of stockings and every knee with a hole in it as usual.

 "Wendy," remonstrated [scolded] Michael, "I'm too big for a cradle."

 "I must have somebody in a cradle," she said almost tartly, "and you are the littlest. A cradle is such a nice homely thing to have about a house."

 While she sewed they played around her; such a group of happy faces and dancing limbs lit up by that romantic fire. It had become a very familiar scene, this, in the home under the ground, but we are looking on it for the last time.

 There was a step above, and Wendy, you may be sure, was the first to recognize it.

 "Children, I hear your father's step. He likes you to meet him at the door."

 Above, the redskins crouched before Peter.

 "Watch well, braves. I have spoken."

 And then, as so often before, the gay children dragged him from his tree. As so often before, but never again.

 He had brought nuts for the boys as well as the correct time for Wendy.

 "Peter, you just spoil them, you know," Wendy simpered [exaggerated a smile].

 "Ah, old lady," said Peter, hanging up his gun.

 "It was me told him mothers are called old lady," Michael whispered to Curly.

 "I complain of Michael," said Curly instantly.

 The first twin came to Peter. "Father, we want to dance."

 "Dance away, my little man," said Peter, who was in high good humour.

 "But we want you to dance."

 Peter was really the best dancer among them, but he pretended to be scandalised.

 "Me! My old bones would rattle!"

 "And mummy too."

 "What," cried Wendy, "the mother of such an armful, dance!"

 "But on a Saturday night," Slightly insinuated.

 It was not really Saturday night, at least it may have been, for they had long lost count of the days; but always if they wanted to do anything special they said this was Saturday night, and then they did it.

 "Of course it is Saturday night, Peter," Wendy said, relenting.

 "People of our figure, Wendy!"

 "But it is only among our own progeny [children]."

 "True, true."

 So they were told they could dance, but they must put on their nighties first.

 "Ah, old lady," Peter said aside to Wendy, warming himself by the fire and looking down at her as she sat turning a heel, "there is nothing more pleasant of an evening for you and me when the day's toil is over than to rest by the fire with the little ones near by."

 "It is sweet, Peter, isn't it?" Wendy said, frightfully gratified. "Peter, I think Curly has your nose."

 "Michael takes after you."

 She went to him and put her hand on his shoulder.

 "Dear Peter," she said, "with such a large family, of course, I have now passed my best, but you don't want to [ex]change me, do you?"

 "No, Wendy."

 Certainly he did not want a change, but he looked at her uncomfortably, blinking, you know, like one not sure whether he was awake or asleep.

 "Peter, what is it?"

 "I was just thinking," he said, a little scared. "It is only make-believe, isn't it, that I am their father?"

 "Oh yes," Wendy said primly [formally and properly].

 "You see," he continued apologetically, "it would make me seem so old to be their real father."

 "But they are ours, Peter, yours and mine."

 "But not really, Wendy?" he asked anxiously.

 "Not if you don't wish it," she replied; and she distinctly heard his sigh of relief. "Peter," she asked, trying to speak firmly, "what are your exact feelings to [about] me?"

 "Those of a devoted son, Wendy."

 "I thought so," she said, and went and sat by herself at the extreme end of the room.

 "You are so queer," he said, frankly puzzled, "and Tiger Lily is just the same. There is something she wants to be to me, but she says it is not my mother."

 "No, indeed, it is not," Wendy replied with frightful emphasis. Now we know why she was prejudiced against the redskins.

 "Then what is it?"

 "It isn't for a lady to tell."

 "Oh, very well," Peter said, a little nettled. "Perhaps Tinker Bell will tell me."

 "Oh yes, Tinker Bell will tell you," Wendy retorted scornfully. "She is an abandoned little creature."

 Here Tink, who was in her bedroom, eavesdropping, squeaked out something impudent.

 "She says she glories in being abandoned," Peter interpreted.

 He had a sudden idea. "Perhaps Tink wants to be my mother?"

 "You silly ass!" cried Tinker Bell in a passion.

 She had said it so often that Wendy needed no translation.

 "I almost agree with her," Wendy snapped. Fancy Wendy snapping! But she had been much tried, and she little knew what was to happen before the night was out. If she had known she would not have snapped.

 None of them knew. Perhaps it was best not to know. Their ignorance gave them one more glad hour; and as it was to be their last hour on the island, let us rejoice that there were sixty glad minutes in it. They sang and danced in their night- gowns. Such a deliciously creepy song it was, in which they pretended to be frightened at their own shadows, little witting that so soon shadows would close in upon them, from whom they would shrink in real fear. So uproariously gay was the dance, and how they buffeted each other on the bed and out of it! It was a pillow fight rather than a dance, and when it was finished, the pillows insisted on one bout more, like partners who know that they may never meet again. The stories they told, before it was time for Wendy's good-night story! Even Slightly tried to tell a story that night, but the beginning was so fearfully dull that it appalled not only the others but himself, and he said happily:

 "Yes, it is a dull beginning. I say, let us pretend that it is the end."

 And then at last they all got into bed for Wendy's story, the story they loved best, the story Peter hated. Usually when she began to tell this story he left the room or put his hands over his ears; and possibly if he had done either of those things this time they might all still be on the island. But to-night he remained on his stool; and we shall see what happened.