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noa-nightingale · 4 years ago

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Steven Lim Appreciation Week: Watcher-era Steven

We are celebrating Watcher-era Steven and I want to talk about Hidden Narratives for this day of Steven Lim Appreciation Week!

From the description: “Steven Lim speaks with Asian American leaders across industries about how the coronavirus has impacted our community.“

There are six episodes and one of them is also on youtube. Keep in mind that these episodes were created in March/April 2020. More on that at the end of the post.

Quick disclaimer, I am not Asian American and it would be inappropriate for me to lead any kind of conversation about this podcast; therefore I attempted to keep this relatively surface-level. But I have to admit that I got carried away with this pretty quickly and I am not sure if I stayed in my lane. It was meant to be a short, appreciative post but it got out of hand - if I overstepped boundaries, please let me know.

A warning, this podcast deals with heavy and difficult topics, including racism, grief, pain, people losing their businesses, people hurting. It is also very focused on people coming together and how they can help each other - but these topics are still not easy. I still wanted to write about it because I think that Steven deserves all the appreciation in the world for his work.

The first words that come to mind when thinking about this podcast are “heart” and “dedication”. It has a lot of heart - and despite the not always happy topics, it is such a wonderful, beautiful podcast. You notice the hard work Steven put into it, the passion, the care.

In the intro of the first episode he said he was nervous when he made the podcast but that he hoped that people liked it because it would make him feel good. He explained where the idea came from: His friends talked about how the virus effected their livelihood, and he felt hurt and helpless. And he realized that he could share their untold stories.

Episode 1: How Coronavirus Shut Down A Restaurant in 24 Hours

In the first episode, Steven talks to his friend Deuki Hong, chef and owner of Sunday Hospitality Group, whose restaurants shut down in March 2020. He talked about the emotional impact of things happening so fast, trying to keep his employees safe and worrying about his team, having to question a lot of things he had been taught, and having to deal with the uncertainty.

Steven mostly asked questions and listened. Deuki Hong had to make some difficult decisions, and Steven was never judgmental about it - the podcast allowed for a very honest conversation about a very difficult situation.

The first episode very much was about trying to look out for each other, and that is a sentiment that continues throughout the entire podcast.

Deuki Hong said near the end of the episode: “When people are hurt, they just want someone to talk to, a shoulder to cry on, whatever that is, so be that person, just be kind, cause yeah, there’s a lot of hurt people right now.”

There is a GoFundMe set up for the team called Sunday Family Dream Fund. It is still open and has not reached its goal - the first episode of Hidden Narratives came out in March 2020 and the last donation to the GoFundMe was 8 months ago, so I am not really sure what the current state of affairs is. (I will come back to this at the end of my post.)

Episode 2: Why This NYC Restaurant Is Staying Open In A Pandemic

Steven mentions in the beginning of the second episode his “close emotional connection to the food industry” and that it is one of the reasons he started his podcast with two stories from two different restaurants. He also wanted to look at the topic of keeping the restaurant(s) open vs. closing it from two perspectives, and says that he does not know if there is a right or wrong answer.

Steven talks to Jimmy Ly, chef and co-owner of Madame Vo and Madame Vo BBQ. Jimmy Ly made the decision to keep his restaurants open. Steven started the conversation with: “Jimmy, thank you for sharing your story and I hope that those listening can gain a little more compassion, a little more empathy and a little more understanding.”

I found it touching that Steven’s first question was “How are you doing?” - it was asked in a way that allowed for an honest answer. This is also something he continues throughout the podcast, and it is very obvious that Steven is a very thoughtful and considerate person.

Jimmy Ly talked about his decision and for him, too, it is about his staff and his obligation toward them - the wanted to take care of them. Steven summed it up with “It is a choice for them between their livelihood and their safety”.

He talked about the measures they took to keep their staff as safe as possible and about adapting to the situation as best as they can.

Jimmy Ly said, if somebody on his team contracted the virus, he would shut his business down. It was obvious that none of the decisions he had to make and has to make are easy. They also talked about how Asian owned business were hit the hardest, and the drop in business for many.

The end of the episode got emotional - Jimmy Ly talked about how people who had to close their small businesses would most likely not be able to open them again. He said he and many others worked hard and that it is unfair that they could lose everything.

Steven talked about the impact Madame Vo had on him and that he could tell that Jimmy Ly cared about his restaurant, staff and customers and the food and that he poured love into it. Jimmy Ly said that Madame Vo means family to him.

The episode description includes the link to the Madame Vo website - Madame Vo Kitchen is still open while Madame Vo BBQ is “temporarily closed”.

Episode 3: FBI Warns Asian Americans Of Racist Outbreaks Due To Coronavirus

In the third episode, Steven talks to Benny Luo, the founder and CEO of NextShark, about the surge of racism against Asian Americans. He said despite growing up one of the only Asians in his school and being attacked for it, he has never seen so many Asian Americans being attacked in his life before.

From the description: NextShark is “one of the leading sources of global Asian and Asian American news”.

Benny Luo talked about the cases of racism against Asian Americans rising and that him and his team work the hardest they have ever worked in the history of the company to be able to report the stories.

He also talked about the impact of being confronted with those stories regularly - that it is psychologically draining but that his team feels a responsibility to do this work and that he is proud of his team.

Benny Luo told about someone writing to the team about the momentous moments happening for Asian Americans in the past years - and how it felt like it all came tumbling down. He said it is hurtful but that he also hopes it will be a time in history where the entire Asian community will come together.

But he also highlighted the good - there are people doing important work, in the medical field and in other fields, and it is important to be proactive - and these stories should be covered too.

Steven called the conversation “enlightening and therapeutic”. Benny Luo said to Steven: “You’re a creator, you’ve been a representative for us, being an Asian face on a really really big platform and (...) you doing interviews like this with me and you speaking up, I mean, those things have a lot of impact so no matter what it is, I think that you’ve made a big contribution in helping advance us forward.”

Here is the NextShark website.

Episode 4: On Andrew Yang And How Proving Our "American-ness" Won't End Racism

The fourth episode deals with the controversial op-ed by Andrew Yang that advises Asian Americans to show their American-ness to combat racism. Steven said that he was hurt by his words but also by the way Andrew Yang was treated as a result.

In the episode, Steven talks to Taylor Weik, a Japanese-American writer who wrote an article in response to the op-ed. From the description: “Taylor shares more context on why Yang's call-to-action was dismissive to the history of Japanese-Americans and details the negative impacts of Yang's article on the Asian American community.“

In his reflection of the episode, Steven said he did not know how to feel when the article came out - he did not agree with Andrew Yang and he thinks what he said was harmful but people also dismissed all of Andrew Yang’s previous accomplishments. Steven said he can understand the outrage. He said that he thinks that Andrew Yang can learn and that they can grow as a community.

It was clear that this was a difficult topic for Steven but he did his best to have a balanced and fair conversation and to not condemn.

Episode 5: Why American Healthcare Workers Aren’t Safe From The Pandemic

In the fifth episode, Dr. Shuhan He, an emergency doctor and the co-founder of GetUsPPE.org, talks with Steven about the shortage of personal protective equipment (PPE) for healthcare workers.

They had a conversation about what exactly PPE is and why it was so hard to get. They not only talked about the importance of PPE in hospitals but also in nursing homes. Another topic was the importance of wearing masks.

Steven said: “A lot of people are grieving and (...) I’ve been feeling a lot of pent-up sadness and I don’t know how to channel the energy.” He asked how people can help.

Here is the link to Dr Shuhan He’s organisation GetUsPPE. Once again Steven mentioned people coming together and doing good.

Episode 6: Should Churches Gather During a Pandemic?

The sixth episode is very personal to Steven - his Christian faith is the most important thing in his life. He talks to Pastor Drew Hyun, pastor and leader of Hope Church Midtown in New York City. Steven attended Hope Church when he was still in New York.

They talked about churches gathering - Pastor Hyun’s churches are meeting remotely. He said that people were missing connectivity and that’s why they decided to make services interactive and using Zoom instead of having live streams. They also switched their style of services to a style that would allow more interaction.

Pastor Hyun said what makes the situation so painful is that people share the collective grief but are still physically isolated. Steven asked how people are doing spiritually - Pastor Hyun said there was a hunger, and that people are starting to think about faith and life and God.

He said they would not be gathering because they want to be a loving community - a loving community would serve the vulnerable, deliver food to the elderly, raise money for small businesses, serve non-profits. He wanted to lean into love and generosity.

Steven talked about the challenges with his own faith - why would God allow such a devestating thing? He said he can at least channel all the energy of grief, and that giving back has been therapeutic for him. He also mentioned that churches are now more accessible than ever.

They talked about some churches not being willing to stop gathering in person - Pastor Hyun said it is a grief to him and that the most loving thing that churches can do is not to gather.

Again, the end of the episode got emotional - Steven asked how Pastor Hyun personally was doing and he told about how he tried to support the restaurant of a friend and walked out of it crying. He said it would be easy for him to fall into despair and cynicism - but that he clings to the thought that God will do something. He talked about people suffering and how hard it is to watch - and that the situation is challenging.

Steven said he would keep him in his prayers. Pastor Hyun said: “Thanks for what you’re doing and I think it’s beautiful - you’re telling the stories of pockets of light in the midst of what’s happening.”

In his reflection, Steven said that he had been struggling with the situation every day but where he can find joy and peace and confidence is God and the belief that God has a plan for him.

A few closing thoughts: I admire Steven’s dedication. I think this quote from the end of episode 3 sums it up: “I spend my evenings editing this, it’s not part of our overall business plan and probably, you know, we’re losing money from it. It’s not supposed to be my priority. But I’ve been given the green light by my co-founders, by my head of development to continue making this show.”

That’s incredible hard work right there. And it deserves to be recognized.

The podcast was created in the early stages of the pandemic. I don’t know how the people who shared their stories are doing now, about a year later. I would love to have some updates - I thought about doing some research myself and create sort of a follow-up but, again, I don’t know if I am the right person to do it.

To conclude this already too lengthy post, I want to return to the main themes that could be found in all episodes: Coming together, helping each other, creating support, being kind, channeling negative emotions into positive actions, making positive changes.

That’s what Steven is doing with this podcast and with the rest of his work, and it is very very impressive, commendable and inspirational.

#stevenweek #watcher #hidden narratives #usermarylan #usersimba #steven lim #religion

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themummersfolly · 4 years ago

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So you’re getting the covid vaccine

You’ve finally gotten a hold of the health department, nailed down that elusive appointment, and the big day’s almost here. You may have a lot of questions: what will the site look like? Who else will be there? How will I feel afterwards? You may be excited; you may be nervous (and your conspiracy theorist family member hasn’t been helping).

I’m going to try to lay some of your concerns to rest. I’ve been working at my state’s vax sites for about a month at the time of writing; my information won’t apply to all states and it’s very unlikely to apply outside the US, but it may help you get your bearings and make the whole thing less alien and intimidating.

The site is likely to be run by state or county health departments, or by a local hospital, but it may not be located at a healthcare facility, depending on the number of patients they usually get. High-volume sites tend to be set up wherever they can find room for a thousand people and their cars; some of ours are hosted by sports stadiums and shopping malls. Pop-up sites are also a possibility, and will probably become more common as younger people are brought into phase. These are sent out to places like industrial sites and college campuses to get shots to people where they are.

Most of the sites I’ve worked at are drive-thru, some take foot traffic. Almost all require you to make an appointment. (I can’t help you much with the appointment side of things; that differs significantly from state to state. Best to google it or call your local health department.) If you have an appointment but aren’t familiar with the site, drive by it ahead of time. See for yourself what you’re heading into. If they’re not too busy, stop and talk to some of the site personnel. Ask them if there’s a particular way they want you to enter from; many sites have a single flow of traffic with one entry and one exit, while others (like the one I’m at right now) are set back in a rabbit warren of back streets, half of which will be blocked off on a busy day. Scout ahead; we appreciate you being prepared. Ask questions; I guarantee I’ve answered much dumber ones.

A note on drive-thru sites: please be on your game when you’re driving. You’ll most likely be driving through tight spaces with pedestrians and other cars very close by. Know where the corners of your car are, and be able to tell your gas pedal from your brake. It sounds petty to harp on these things, but I spend my days dealing with people who straight up can’t. Keep your head on a swivel, as we say. Please don’t be that person who plows into a concrete barrier or, God forbid, one of my buddies. If you’re not comfortable driving in cramped, low speed conditions, please try to find someone to drive you. At the very least, have someone drop you off; even drive-thru sites will accommodate a walk-up if you have an appointment.

Now that you’re at the vax site, who can you expect to meet? A lot of other patients, obviously; you can’t receive the vaccine if you’re currently sick, so you shouldn’t be at an elevated risk of catching anything from the people around you. However, people will occasionally get in line thinking it’s a testing site (which they generally won’t seek out unless they’re sick) and you always have the risk of silent carriers, so it’s best to maintain a distance and mask up as applicable.

Most sites are going to be staffed by employees of the hospital or health department running the event; depending on where you are, the National Guard may also have been deployed to assist. At my site, we have a mix of National Guard, State Guard, and Health Department staff working all positions: three of our medics are military, while on a busy day the Health Department's dentist will come out an help me direct traffic. Don’t be intimidated by the uniforms; we don’t have any authority beyond parking you in the right spot, and I don’t think any state arms their covid-response teams. And don’t thank us for our service; it’s awkward, annoying, and we’d much rather you just wear your mask and not hit us with your car.

There may be cops onsite, depending on how bad traffic congestion is and/or how many belligerent boomers they’re expecting. (Seriously, that’s who causes the majority of our problems. If somebody’s going to start trouble, nine times out of ten it’ll be an old white person with a shit ton of money.) I wish I could say that none of them are the kind to go looking for trouble, but unfortunately I’ve known too many cops - it only takes one to ruin it for everybody. For the most part, though, this is going to be an easy-money type of assignment for them, and if they’re not in their patrol cars they’re probably gossiping with the National Guard.

As you get up to the actual clinic, someone is going to approach you to take down your medical information. If you’re on foot, they may hand you the forms to fill out; if it’s a drive thru site, they’ll probably ask you the questions and write down your answers. This won’t take long; most sites streamlined their process while they were doing testing last year. To avoid clerical errors, a good practice is to hold up your ID and have them copy your name and address, especially if English isn’t your first language or you speak a noticeably different dialect of English.

Ok, so you’ve located the site, braved the traffic, made it past Corporal Snuffy with his clipboard, sat in The Line That Time Forgot, and now you’ve finally reached it: the Gleaming Needle of Destiny. What will the shot itself be like? Practically speaking, not all that different from the average flu shot. A quick poke in the arm, a bandaid that you don’t really need, and then you go wait 15-30 minutes to make sure you aren’t allergic to it. My buddy and I just finished our course of the Pfizer; neither the first nor the second shot gave me more than a sore arm, but my buddy got a mild fever after the second one and didn’t feel well for about 24 hours afterward. Both are normal reactions. It’s best to plan your second dose so you have some time to recover in case you do have an immune response; better to have it and not need it. However, if you break out in hives, get an itching throat, or show any other symptoms of an allergic reaction, this is not normal and you should flag one of us down immediately. Walk up to somebody, beep the horn - whatever you have to do to get our attention. You are surrounded not only by medical personnel, but by bored soldiers with a shit ton of first aid training and visions of lifesaving and glory. We will be more than willing to help you.

Once you’ve received the shot but before you’re sent off to Observation (Interminable Wait #2), you’ll receive a card with your vaccination info on it. If you do not receive one, go back and pester them until they give you one. This is your proof of vaccination; do not throw it out. If you want to get on a plane you may be required to present it as proof of not being a plague rat, and at any rate you’ll want it for your medical record. Some places may put a date on there for your second shot and use it as proof of appointment; others may require you to go make the second appointment on your own. Double check which the case is. You most likely will be getting the two-shot vaccine, either Pfizer or Moderna. I don’t know of any sites that are doing Johnson+Johnson; they seem to be encountering a bunch of PR problems already, so I don’t know how widespread that one will get. Just make sure if you are scheduling your own second appointment that you get the same vaccine type as you got for the first one; getting one Pfizer and one Moderna will result in neither being effective. The scheduling website should be set up so you can’t do that, but just double check; trust but verify. And by the way, the second shot isn't formulated any different frim the first one. It's the same exact thing in the syringe, your body just has to see it twice to be able to use it.

And that’s it! After about fifteen or thirty minutes we will have established that you aren’t going to swell up like a character from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, and we’ll turn you loose upon the world. Go home, take a nap and/or some motrin for that sore arm, and then feel free to add your experiences to this post!

#covid 19 #coronavirus #quarantine #covid vaccine #long post #informative #reblogs welcome

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zankivich · 5 years ago

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Corona Diares pt 2: An Arrangement Sequel

a/n: Hello. Something must be in the air. OR, you’re all trapped in your houses and paying my pics more attention than when I actually wrote them lol. Either way I felt inspired to write this and would LOVE to point out that I planned this entire chapter out before the the S + C bullshit was even a thing. I quite enjoy this. I love talking about mental health. It’s so serious and so underrepresented and so poorly represented. I wanted to show a black woman dealing with it and one way, not the only way, that a partner can be supportive during that. If you like it let me know. And if you have ANY ideas for this series please please please share them with me because this was the last idea I had. K bye!

WARNINGS: Depression, discussions of mental health, a very worried husband just wanting to love his wife

*Shawn’s point of view*

After the first month, he notices a change. When they can no longer go out to the store to shop anymore and have to get everything delivered. No more throwing random things at her to build dishes around. When she can’t go to get her hair done, or go on friendship dates with Ti. She gets a little down, not as energetic and bubbly as is her nature. Even the level of sass she seemed to whip at him with incredible comedic timing was at odds. It’s not that he’s not enough for her, it’s just that all the other parts of her life outside of him seem to dry up. There’s not much managing to do, beyond giving their artists a break. Her world domination halts when the world does. And what he’s left with is a rare and devastating vision. A depressed y/n.

At first he’s not super concerned. The whole world was turned upside down. They were witnessing history on a day-by-day basis. Who wasn’t a little sad?! At first, she just takes a little longer to get out of bed. So, he cooks them breakfast after his morning workout. But then she starts to zone out for shorter and then longer periods of time. One day he notices that for an hour during a movie, she just stares out the window. Barely blinking. Never moving. Just sat still. And then come the naps.

“Babe, I have a headache. I’m gonna go lie down for a little while, okay?” She murmured, placing her hand on his shoulder as she stood up.

He peered up at her with concern.

“Of course. You want me to make you some peppermint tea? We can watch movies in bed if you want. I’ll rub your back.”

She smiled a smile so small it barely touched her face. It was nothing like the beautiful wide-toothed grin he fell so deeply in love with.

“You’re incredible, but I think I just need to lie in the dark for a little while. I’ll feel better and then we make some fresh gnocchi for dinner.”

Her gnocchi was one of his favorites. So, of course he nodded and kissed her fingers as she slipped away. He tried his best to stay quiet the rest of the day, sticking to the other side of the house as he played guitar, or video games, or piano. As the day grew later, he went about prepping the potatoes for the gnocchi. He cleaned, scrubbed, and pierced the potatoes before placing them in the oven to bake. He even went about setting up the pans, olive oil, salt. Anything they might need. He grated the parm himself.

When the potatoes had but about ten minutes left to go, he finally made his way upstairs. Their bedroom was dark, the light outside the hallway even turned off. He flicked it on as he stepped quietly inside on raised toes. She was on her side of the bed curled up in the entirety of their comforter. Her bonnet was missing, something he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen before. He wasn’t nervous yet though, so he just assumed it had fallen off in her movement.

“Sweetheart. Hey, I went ahead and got everything prepped for dinner. I thought we could listen to some records while we cook? Maybe open a bottle of wine if you want.”

Her eyes opened. And she looked near him. But she was completely and utterly away. Like her body was a shell and she’d fallen within the depths of herself, hidden away and unwilling to come out. She took one look at him and shook her head before rolling to the otherside of the bed.

“I can’t.”

“Oh...Okay. Well how about I do the cooking, give you a little more time to rest. I’ll come get you after.”

“No Shawn I...I can’t.” She whispered.

This is where the worry started to creep in. Let’s just say he was very good at worrying.

“What is it? Is it your head still? Maybe you should take something.”

“I just...You gotta leave me alone for now, okay? I need to sleep.”

And that was where things started to shift. Because she sounded broken. Not sick, not hurt, but just absolutely broken. Like she might cry if he asked her again, might completely break down and never come back to herself. The most surprising piece of this new territory that he found himself in was that...she didn’t want him near. In a relationship where every pain, every fear, every insecurity thus far had been comforted, if not cured, by the presence of the other, for the first time in his marriage, his wife wanted to be away from him in the midst of her sadness. This was a phenomena he knew nothing about how to manage

He goes back to the kitchen and busies his hands with gnocchi, in part because he had nothing better to do, and in part because he thought he might freak out if he didn’t. Silly him for thinking the concentration on the physical could do anything to silence his mental. At first he wondered if it might be the virus, and that was a terrifying thought all on its own. y/n had made it clear from the jump that their celebrity would not be an excuse for privilege in the face of death caused by oppression. They had not been tested for the virus when half the industry had without symptoms. Even in Canada where healthcare was far better, she was more concerned with donating to others. But she wasn’t exactly showing symptoms, and she didn’t really seem sick. More than anything he couldn’t shake the loneliness in her eyes. Like he could hug her for hours and it wouldn’t make a bit of difference. That wasn’t a virus. That was something else.

So as the fear of the virus hitting the love of his life ebbed, what remained in its place was a sort of terror about the unknown. And he tried to be positive, tried to imagine the next morning when she’d come bounding down the stairs singing a song beneath her breath and looking for eggs for breakfast. However, Shawn couldn’t shake the idea that his wife was experiencing something new entirely, something that she herself may have never navigated before. And he simply may have no idea how to help her out of it. He was scared shitless.

*Three Days Later*

She hasn’t left the room once. In the middle of day two he had insisted on taking her temperature. She wasn’t even ninety-eight degrees. No dry cough. No trouble breathing or wheezing or anything. She was physically fine in the technical sense. But God was she far from fine. On the third day, he was so terrified he didn’t know what to do. So, he reached for the blanket and tried to wiggle it away from her. The result was catastrophic. She just absolutely fell apart. She cried and cried and cried until her cheeks were soggy, until her eyes were red, and all she could do was stare at him in helplessness.

“Why? Why are you doing this to me?” She cried at him.

He had never seen her so quiet. So timid. So dull. It was everything that she wasn’t, and it shook him to his very core.

“Please. Y/n I love you so much. Y--You’re scaring me, sweetheart. I just want to help. You’ve been lying in bed for three days now and I’m trying to help. Just tell me what you need, and I’ll fix it okay? I need you to tell me what’s happening.”

She shook her head and rolled onto her back, legs curled awkwardly beneath themselves. He sees a tear pool on the apple of her cheek and then spill over and down the side of the face he hadn’t kissed in days.

“Don’t you understand? You can’t fix it. They’re dying Shawn. They--they’re gonna die.”

“Who’s gonna die?”

Her face crumpled then and she covered her mouth as a sob let loose that cracked into his chest and tore open his own heart.

“All of those people. Who can’t afford to stay home from the restaurants, from the grocery stores. The people who got fired and can’t afford rent. The people without homes, without safety nets. They’re gonna die. Because we allowed them to. Because we created a system that needs their death to remain sustainable. They’re gonna die. And then we’re gonna die. And it’s all gonna be for nothing. The protesting, the political statements in interviews, the canvassing door to door. It will mean nothing under eradication.”

This wasn’t pessimism under a patriarchal, racist system. This wasn’t y/n on her soap box complaining about the white man, or teaching him about the intersections of oppression. This was something different entirely. This was like watching the love of his life suffocate. He was literally watching her worry herself into a frenzy.

“Y/n, you have to breathe. You’re not breathing.” He mumbled crawling deeper into the bed to get beside her.

She shook her head vigorously back and forth, the tears pooling into puddles on their bed.

“I can’t--I can’t see my way out of it. It’s like... it’s crushing me from above and below. Like I’m sandwiched between it. T--there’s no light. There’s nothing.”

“Okay, okay just uh--give me a second to think...Can I lie down next to you?”

She shrugged more than nodded, but he took it for what it was and crawled in next to her. His thumb wiped at her cheeks, chasing away the tears as she worked to breathe. Her chest rose and fell in rapid succession. And all he could do was reach out and place his hand slowly over her heart, his lips falling to her ear. Everything was measured, intentional, because he didn’t want to scare her anymore.

“I used to have panic attacks as a kid. Listen to the way that I breathe. Try to match it. Don’t focus on getting it right, just do your best. I’m right here, okay?” He whispered. “Your body knows how to breathe. You just have to remember.”

He took a few deep breaths, slowly in and out against her ear. Her heart was hammering, and he knew that before they addressed the existential dread, he needed to calm her heart down. He was glad that in that moment her hand wasn’t on his chest, because she might feel the way that his heart beat just as fast. He was terrified, not of her, but for her. He knew this was the “in sickness and health” part of the deal, and more than anything he just wanted to be good to her. He didn’t want to see her suffer. So despite the crippling fear of getting it wrong, of saying the wrong thing, he had to try. He’d do anything for her.

“Find something to focus on.” He offered still breathing in and out in exaggerated slowness. “I--It can be the ceiling, or anything really as long as it’s not moving. Sometimes it helps. You’re doing good. It’s gonna be okay, babe.”

At first she just flounders. Y/n was a woman good at most things with an ease and precision that could make him feel insecure at times. In this moment though she just couldn’t seem to get the hang of it no matter what she did. Every moment she didn’t succeed only seemed to ramp her heart rate up further.

When she chooses to look at him, to use him to focus, he almost cries. But instead he smiles at her. And he keeps breathing with her. And slowly, slowly, slowly, she floats back down to him. And she sort of just collapses on his chest in a mangled heap. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

“It’s okay.” He whispered kissing at her hair. “I’m right here, my love.”

And she falls asleep again there. With him holding her. He’d rather it be that way. He can only hopes she feels the same

***

He puts out a call on instagram and twitter. He doesn’t name names, but he asks some of his friends if they were experiencing anything like y/n, or if they knew how to help loved ones who were. The next day, he lets her stay in bed just because it breaks his heart when she cries. And also in the hope that he could do a little digging to get her some help.

He’s on an instagram live playing guitar and staring off into space with a blunt in his mouth when the chat starts going crazy.

“What’s going on guys?” He asked, reaching to scroll past the words.

He just kept seeing the words GAGA over and over again. In hindsight it may have been obvious, but he was a bit of a dumbass...and stoned.

“Gaga? What does that stand for? Is that some sort of internet slang I’m already too old to understand?”

He pulled the phone closer to his face and finally saw someone who said: No dumbass. Lady Gaga is in the chat and she wants to speak with you. Woops.

“Holy shit.”

It takes him honest to god ten minutes to figure out how to get her into the video. His fans make no qualms about laughing at him while he does it either. Eventually she’s there and it’s like the first human connection he’s had in days. And he can’t quite explain it but there’s a part of him that wants to cry.

“Hello Lady! I hear you like to be called Lady, is that okay?” He asked.

She smiled through the tiny image on the screen and gave a slight nod.

“Lady is perfectly fine. Your wife calls me Lady all the time...Actually she likes to call me lil Lady. She’s the only one who gets to call me that though.”

“Sounds like her. I’ll stick to Lady then. H--How are you doing right now? Thank you for joining me here.”

“Of course, of course. You know I saw what you posted on twitter the other day and I’ve just been thinking about it so much. I wanted to give it some genuine thougth before I responded, and then I saw you were going live, so I thought I’d give it a shot.” She explained. “It’s hard isn’t it? I’m healthy and I’m safe and I can take care of my family, so I’ve got nothing to worry about. But uh people are dying. And people don’t have the same resources we have, so I just kind of feel like a piece of shit most days. Like I gotta do something ya know?”

He takes a breath so deep it stuns him a little. His fingers still on the guitar and he just looks up at the ceiling and nods. She gets it. Maybe better than he does. Definitely better than he does.

“I do. My uh--y/n. She said the other day that it’s like we allowed it to happen. We as in society, the big ‘we’. And we did in a way. It’s in who we vote into office, who we confront about their world views, who we question and who we don’t. It kind of feels like a culmination of what a lot of us have been saying for a long time. And nobody would listen. Nobody would change. And so this is the card we’ve been dealt.” He sighed. “But you’re right. It’s not gonna be me, or you, or any of the assholes in office. I--It’s gonna be the people we were fighting alongside the whole time. The people without a fanbase, or the ability to write a check. So what the fuck do we do?”

It’s the wildest thing. He’s talking to Lady Gaga, but she’s got no make up on and she’s sitting cuddled up on her couch in glasses. And he’s at home in his studio. The only place where he makes sense. And they’re talking through the hurt together. It’s a collective hurt that seems to permeate through the screen. But at least they can wrestle with it together.

“I think we have to be willing to put ourselves on the line. We got to stand up and offer what we can, because it’ll always be more. And not like the bullshit sing a longs ya know? Like dollars, and pushing of the political agendas, and more dollars. That’s only way we get out of this, all of us, together.”

She’s kind of a genius. The way she spoke reminded him of y/n and the way she would talk sometimes. It was the kind of way of speaking that made you know she could change the world. And it only hurt his heart all the more that she was in such a space.

“Can I ask you a mental health question?”

“Oh of course?”

“I know that you’ve been open with your own experience andI guess I was just wondering… well first how you’re doing in this moment? And then I have someone close to me who’s really struggling under the weight of all of these things we’re talking about. And I don’t really know how to help them, but I really want to.”

She took him seriously which was nice and listened empathetically in a way that didn’t make him feel so alone.

“Absolutely. You know it’s--it’s hard to get out of bed some days. And some days I don’t. For me personally, channeling my energy towards finding funding and aid for people has been helpful. I’m an italian girl so I want to fix shit immediately ya know?” She giggled. “So I’m doing okay today, and I’ve learned to be happy with where I’m at, to try not to push myself towards something I don’t have. Is your loved one okay?”

He could feel the part of himself that was being pulled towards the stairs to get to her. He could still remember the whine she let out when he asked her if she wanted to shower that day. His heart hurt for her and because of her, as it belonged to her.

He shook his head softly and she frowned back at him.

“She--They haven’t gotten out of bed in four days now. N--not really eating. Cries a lot, and they’re really not a big crier. I just wanna make it better, but I guess I don’t know how.” He mumbled. “It’s hard to tell ‘em it’s gonna be better when it feels like that might never happen ya know?”

She nods and suddenly it’s like a huge therapy session for him, which only makes him feel a bit more like a piece of shit. But he’d do anything if it meant she felt better.

“Let me guess. You tried giving her space? Thought maybe she’d snap out of it?”

He gets the feeling she knows exactly who he’s talking about it and the pretenses sort of melt away.

“Yea. It’s kind of driving me crazy though. We’re not really the distance type.”

“Of course.” She smiled. “I can’t really explain what’s going on in her head. It’s different for everybody. What I can offer is only a suggestion if what’s currently happening isn’t working. Just go lie next to her. It might not be today. It might not be this week, but there are moments in and out of it--kinda like a fog? And in those moments of clarity, Shawn? There is nothing worse than finding yourself alone. I can promise you that.”

He nods, hanging onto every word that she speaks. In all honesty the genius of women had never gone unnoticed to him. It was a part of what always made him realise what an idiot his father was.

“Look, still get up. Work out. Shower. Eat. But when you can...be there. And let me know if that helps. In the meantime I think I’ve got a bit of an idea, would you mind if I sent you something?”

“Absolutely. Send away.”

The second the livestream ends he makes his way upstairs. She’s sat on his side of the bed this time, which makes him wonder what’s going on in her head. It’s clear that she’s awake, so he climbs in slowly after her. But this time he doesn’t press, doesn’t beg, doesn’t coax. He simply goes back to plucking at the strings of his guitar. And the reality is that nothing happens. He honestly doesn’t know if he helps even in the slightest. But he’s there. And that’s all that he could offer. He just hoped it was enough.

***

Day six she snuggles into his side for the entirety of Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. She’s asleep, but it’s a win.

Day seven she lets him open the curtains for a while.

Day eight she asks him if they can take a bath. He gets a little overzealous. Pulls out the bubbles and the bath salts and the bath bombs. In the end, when she takes her bonnet off for the first time, her curls are flattened and stuck together. He asks if he can wash it for her. She pauses but tells him she’s afraid she won’t be able to get out of bed again to rinse out a deep condition. So they make a deal to sit in the tub long enough for the conditioner to penetrate, and then he rinses it for her. She spends a long time with her head pressed against his chest, bubbles popping into thin air against their skin.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered, tears welling up again. “‘M so sorry.”

“Shhh. I love you more than life. I’d do this every day. I don’t need an apology okay?”

The bath drains her. He gets her into a robe and she crawls immediately back into bed. There’s no time to detangle her hair for her. She goes to sleep and lets her curls mat against the pillow. He doesn’t stop her.

Day nine she comes downstairs for lunch. He makes her soup. She finds an old loaf of bread and drizzles olive oil over it before broiling it. It’s the first cooking she’s done in days and he beams with pride, he’s sure of it. They get her hair detangled together. She cries at the puff of hair that comes from the comb. He holds her for a while and then helps her back up the stairs.

Day ten is a movie on the couch.

Day eleven she walks around outside with him.

It sometimes feels like the tiniest of steps, but every day seems to get a little bit better. She cries and sleeps and still seems to think herself into a frenzy, and yet he gets to see her slowly come back to herself. It’s not until two full weeks after the first incident that she finally talks to him about any of it.

He was in the bathroom shaving and she walked in on socked feet wearing one of his sweatshirts and apparently nothing else. He could still only beam at her like crazy. It was practically in his DNA to be smitten by that woman.

“Hi.” She whispered to him in the mirror.

“Hello. I like your sweatshirt by the way.”

She smiled. The first smile he’d seen in weeks. And it drove him giddy. So giddy he slipped and cut himself like an idiot.

“Ah shit.” He mumbled touching at the cut.

“Are you alright?” She asked him and reached on her toes to touch his shoulders.

He couldn’t quite explain the intimacy her touch brought. Or how starved he’d felt of the feeling. Truly the thought had never occurred to him in the past few weeks. Despite their active and frankly adventerous sex-life, a day hadn’t gone by when he thought about anything but her wellbeing. So why, oh why was he ready to fall to his knees and cry for her off the touch of a goddamn shoulder?

He nodded shakily. “Just a knick, sweetheart. You look...you seem--you know? Good today. Better than the past few days.”

“Yea I--I feel different. Good different.”

“Yea?”

She peered up at him. “Yea. But maybe I should let you finish up here. I could make us some eggs and toast maybe? I--I don’t think I’m ready for much else.”

“Eggs and toast sound great. I’ll be right down.”

“Okay.”

She nodded to herself like she needed the confirmation that she could do it before turning on her heel.

“Y/n?”

“Yea?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

***

“I still don’t really know what happened. I’ve never experienced anything like that before.”

He reached for the hand not occupied with playing with her eggs and squeezed.

“Did you ever have depression or anxiety before? Maybe to a lesser degree?”

Y/n snorted. “Depression? Anxiety? In my mother’s household? I love her dearly but black mothers aren’t exactly rolling out the welcome mat to therapy. My mother had one goal, to keep a roof over my head, and she didn’t make room for much else. We didn’t have time to be sad.”

He frowned. “Darling that sounds...honestly kind of terrible.”

“Maybe. But it’s the reality I grew up in. Depression has always been a white folks thing.”

“Well last I checked depression doesn’t know color, babe. And I think the fact that you lied in bed for two weeks means that there’s something bigger at play here.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. And he knew she was back by the way that eyebrow told him every word that would come out of her mouth before she said it.

“You know you’ve gotten bolder since you married me? I don’t like it.” She whined.

He chuckled softly and reached to push her dish out of reach. She’d taken to playing with the leftover scraps so that she didn’t have to look him in the eye, but he desperately needed her attention.

“If anything I’ve only fallen more in love with you. And I just wanna understand. I wanna help. If that means getting you to understand that you, my beautiful, intelligent wife are not immune to depression and anxiety, then I’m sorry we’ll simply have to work through it. I’m only interested in what’s best for you, you know that.”

She bit her lip and squeezed his hands, intertwining their fingers across the table. Her mouth dips into a frown as she finally reflects on her emotions.

“I just kept thinking about it. I mean constantly. I--I couldn’t stop. And it...made me sadder than I’ve ever been in my life.” She whispered. “Even now I’m imagining bodies. When I close my eyes that’s what I see. And I don’t know their names, I don’t know their faces, but I can feel their pain. And it is absolutely insufferable. It’s like this big, huge brick. And I can’t move it. I can’t get rid of it. It’s just there. All the fucking time.”

“That sounds terrifying baby.” He sighed holding onto her tighter. “I--I’m so sorry that you’re feeling this way.”

“What the fuck am I supposed to do? See a therapist in the middle of a pandemic? Whine about my sadness while we live in a mansion and fucking cook all day while healthcare frontliners are pulling twenty-four hour shifts, and people can’t afford their bills? I don’t do this, Shawn. This isn’t me.” She sniffled.

He let go of her hands and wiped at her tears instead. This felt like a moment best spent with her cheeks in his palms anyway.

“Hey, having money doesn’t mean you don’t get to feel. In fact I think you’re the person who taught me that. What you’re feeling right now is nothing less than a product of your empathy and your willingness to care for people you’ve never even met. You need to be fucking kinder to yourself, do you hear me? It’s my wife you’re talking about.” He smiled. “We’ll get you whatever you need. But we will get it, and you don’t need to feel bad about that. I promised you the world didn’t I?”

She sighed and took a deep breath to calm herself, always feeling quite silly when he held her face that way. It’s why he did it.

“I do remember something to that effect.” she said dryly.

“Good. Now perhaps I could kiss you? It’s been quite a while for me.”

“It has...You may proceed.”

“Thank you, your majesty.” He chuckled and kissed her silly at the dining room table. “Hey I think I have an idea to balance how you’re feeling and still get you the help that you need.”

“Oh god. Every time you have an idea it always ends up with me having a damn heart attack.”

“I’ll keep the paddles near by.”

“Not funny!”

***

*y/n’s point of view*

Leave it to Lady Gaga to try and save the world. And leave it to her to reach out to Shawn and ask for your help when you couldn’t get out of bed. Women really do it all.

She called on a Sunday. She said she was sick of the instalives and the donation swipe up buttons and the rally cries that we were all in the same boat. She wanted to use her privilege, her money, and her big ass mouth to really get some change made. But she couldn’t do it alone. She had three people helping her thus far and they’d raised twenty million already. But, the reality was that the pandemic was disproportionately impacting black and brown bodies. If the thought of the pain and the death was really getting to you, this was essentially your shot to make some good out of it.

So, you went all out. Tyler Perry gave ten million up front. Normani donated five hundred thousand. Michael B. Jordan gave a million. Chadwick added two. Oprah heard Tyler gave ten so she gave fifteen. The messaging was simple. Our people are hurting, it’s our responsibility to help the very communities that no one else will. Besides, Shawn and you were putting up another ten million yourselves. Excuses were minimal.

Every one of your artists joined in on the One World: Together at Home, including the big man himself with the piano you bought him for your anniversary. It really was an amazing experience. That didn’t mean you were fixed though. Usually work in the midst of anything going on in your life was your MO, but you couldn’t manage to kick this one. There were still days where you just needed to sleep and sleep and try to forget the world was in turmoil. And the hardest part is seeing him lean over to your side of the best and whisper in your ear asking if there was anything he could do. There was so rarely anything he could do.

There’s a therapist. Black. Female. Located in Toronto but she was raised in Alabama. Shawn finds her when you don’t get out of bed again. It’s the most stern your husband had ever been with you, and even that was full of devastatingly warm gooiness.

“You need to talk to someone. And I understand that it can’t be me. I understand it needs to be someone who gets it and who can connect with you in all the ways that you’re hurting right now. So we’ll set up the zoom calls on the tv in your office, you can close the door; we never even have to talk about what goes on during your sessions. But, baby I...I can’t watch you just be in pain like this. Not anymore, okay? So you’re going to therapy dammit, do you hear me?”

And that’s the story of how you got a therapist for the first time in your life. Men. So dramatic.

***

Permanent taglist

@simpledomain @liliane106 @thecurlsofgod @kamahriii @sinplisticshawn @lifeoftheparty74 @xeuphorically-moonstruck@euphoric05 @daijanicole @bruhh-whateven @learning-howto-be-myselfx3 @decewill @goldiean @bitchacho25 @bruhh-whateven @justbeingoceana @loveylangdon @iloveshawnieboi@justbeingoceana @september-lace @valedictorian65 @disaster-rose @dimestorebieber22 @MixerMani @qcoachcartier @kamahriii @sinplisticshawn @lifeoftheparty74@justbeingoceana

Arrangement Taglist:

@moonlightmendes22 @cottoncandyshawn @iloveshawnieboi@shawnsblue

@claredolphinbear24 @peterbrokenparker @blackharry@shawnwyr @speakingofmari @moniehp @softmendesss@ydolansss @chonmnds @MixerMani @kitykatnumber @lanallaa@palhacomendes @mendesficsxbombay @moniehp @alessiaase

#shawn #shawn mendes #shawn mendes series #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fandom #shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes x you #shawn mendes x oc #shawn mendes x black reader #shawn mendes x black woman #shawn mendes x black oc #shawn mendes x y/n #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes oneshot #arrangement fic

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flowersinurbia · 4 years ago

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Every essential worker in the world should be getting paid sick leave, including ALL employees in the healthcare and food industries, not just the managers. If this was not in the CARES Act, shame on Congress because it should be. If grocery store owners and conglomerates are not providing this, shame on them because they should be. This morning, a bagger coughed through her mask while packing my food. I wanted to scream at her but didn't. I wanted to scream at her manager, but didn't. I wanted to call corporate, but didn't. Shame on me? No, because I know she could lose her job if I complained. I know she probably needs her shift as much as any woman who works. I know personally the pain of age-driven gaslighting and discrimination in the workplace. I could tell by her hair color that she is a likely target for the same. I could not, in good conscious, ruin this woman's day. What if she has kids? Or a sick or disabled husband? I'd rather risk getting sick myself than make life worse for somebody else, especially since she may not have been sick at all. We all choke on a bit of dust sometimes. Besides, she was wearing a mask, which is all we can ask. Regardless, here's the bottom line: paid sick leave is not socialism; it's good business sense. Alas, however, certain US politicians are using the spectre of socialism to strike fear in the hearts of those who did not pay enough attention in Civics class to know that a socialist takeover is not possible under our Constitution, that every State is sovereign in our union, so sovereign, in fact, that one state is not permitted to overthrow the election results of another. Ha. Anyway, if you've managed to read this far, and happen to live in the great State of Georgia, my ancestral home, please #vote for #Ossoff and #Warnock on or before January 5, 2021. They just want the best for you and that's all. Thank you. #flowers #floral #roses #rosewithmask #maskup #nature #naturephotography #naturelovers https://www.instagram.com/p/CIvm1sul_Tw/?igshid=3s2ddlsodxr2

#vote #ossoff #warnock #flowers #floral #roses #rosewithmask #maskup #nature #naturephotography #naturelovers

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hoganleslie93 · 4 years ago

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rgr-pop · 5 years ago

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Re: canvassing for Bernie. I guess mostly advice on being effective. I went canvassing in Va before Super Tuesday and felt pretty ineffective, we used the minivan app which just showed us dem voters which makes sense right before the election but I’m wondering if I should widen the net going forward? Idk I’d be canvassing in md and wv thanks in advance you truly are the only smart person on this site

i actually did not have the best experience today, but some of my friends did. my friend the one from flint who went on msnbc to tell chris hayes he didn't vote for hillary because he's from flint, he had a really good day and he felt really good about everything. he gave me some good points, which i will share with you in a second. the reason you didn't feel effective in VA is because everyone in VA is a CIA asset and you shouldn't internalize that. i'm thrilled that you get to talk to people in WV and I think policy and talking points are really going to be on your side, and the people are going to be cool as hell (even if they are not-already bernard voters).

i think bernard kinda fucked over michigan in a few ways this year (no beef but it's true), but i am lucky because my city has some extremely experienced campaign people, and i have never really had to experience doing canvassing for any kind of campaign that wasn't run by them, so i was kind of confused about how little direction you were given. they keep asking me to do higher-up stuff like drawing up the voter lists and strategizing and hosting canvasses, but i keep being like, put me on the doors dude that's where i belong. (my palestinian libra dirtbag is exactly the same, he did like three turfs today lol.) i can probably ask my campaign people for tips if you feel like you don't have any guidance.

since we're so close to election day, we'd normally be only targeting likely/confirmed voters to get out the vote, but because things are so crazy, we're also hitting up voters identified as undecided or previously soft-opponent or i think even independent and we're actually still trying to change minds. this is not super usual but it's crisis time! so, to answer your question, i would say i think you should widen the net, especially in WV. the dem voter problem isn't a huge issue where i am because people in lansing flint and detroit are literally just always democrats no matter what, but in other states i think it's more nuanced.

most of the following advice pertains to actually talking to people, but it should cover the range of voters you may encounter. i think i feel the least effective when i "fail" to engage people in a conversation, so i recommend talking to them in more open-ended ways. i share some of our script down below, but in general i like to ask people questions to draw them in, rather than telling people what we're about. get them to talk about themselves, and they will remember bernie sanders as the candidate that listened. i swear to god that works.

today they gave me a sheet (i gave it to a new girl so i can't remember exactly, but) that focused on swinging those voters. it's still "don't shittalk opponent" territory but it's a list of ways to explicitly contrast sanders and biden on the policies, and it made me realize that we're extremely lucky to be put in this position because those contrasts are stark, and they are convincing to poor people in particular.

what's interesting is that i'm no longer leaning into medicare for all to do my arguing, and i think that's gonna make me more effective. obviously bernie is stronger (literally: strongest) on this issue, but the messaging around biden's work on the ACA and his recent dodging about the issue doesn't help us convince anybody. healthcare is the most important thing on the table but it remains inscrutable: i would say dig into it with voters only if they bring it up as an issue that matters to them, or if they're healthcare workers (non-doctor probably), or if you are going to talk about an experience of your own. when you do talk about healthcare, especially in WV, remember bernie's position on medical debt. this is one of his clearest contrasts with biden. make sure you're familiar with biden's history with bankruptcy and debt, because i'd be willing to bet that that's something that's gonna resonate with WV and MD voters.

the trade deals and NAFTA are, simply, the most important thing to talk about at this point, and imo (based on the critical states, michigan most of all) that's what's going to win us this election, if we talk to people about it. hillary clinton lost the election because she did NAFTA--simple as that. biden, too, did NAFTA, but the thing about him--as i'm sure you're noticing--is that people seem to forget absolutely everything about him, and no one knows that he did NAFTA. joe biden is behind loads of policy that was outright bad for industrial workers and ruined lives. it is simply enough to argue "bernie sanders did not do NAFTA" but you'll want to look into his trade deal positions and history, contrast these with both biden and trump. if you're worried about the xenophobic underbelly of this problem, frame it as exactly what it is: a position that resists giving corporations free reign to do whatever they want, to abandon communities, and stomp all over workers.

look over some of bernie's positions on unions and labor in general. neither of the states you are going to are strongly right-to-work states right now, but where i live that's a really important thing. both biden and bernie, interestingly, have proposed a ban on right-to-work laws (it rules that we are in a place where this was mainstream for candidates, but it remains to be seen who will actually pursue this! the literal birthplace of the UAW went right-to-work while biden was VP soooo.) bernie also wants to end at-will employment and has a slate of proposal to strengthen unions. you should tell this to almost everyone. biden claims to support many similar plans, but he has not historically been especially strong in these areas, and his plans are generally less encompassing.

you should be prepared to confront concerns that bernie's strong environmental positions will hurt workers in WV. talk to people about a "just transition" and really emphasize the point that industry, and coal companies in particular, have been empowered to come and go as they please without any consequences. bernard's plans in general are job creators, and the idea is to bring sustainable--as in, sticking--jobs to appalachia and the rust belt, as well as universal healthcare for people made sick by their jobs. universal healthcare is an engine for jobs.

the war in iraq, support for veterans, and social security are extremely huge issues for poor people, probably specifically in WV.

you will also talk to another major electorate: people who just want to beat trump. this is advice from the msnbc friend, who knows: give them all the bernie beats trump lines. only bernie beats trump. convince them that biden will have all the same problems hillary clinton had against trump. if they bring up the alleged low youth turnout on super tuesday, remind them that the south has particular voter suppression issues that impact young and college voters, and that thus far young people actually have been turning out in the north and west. and the youth turnout on super tuesday was still higher than average! remind them that a democrat without the so-called youth vote has never beat a republican in the general in this century. most importantly, remind them that because of our flawed electoral system, you could win every single person on the west coast, but you're essentially never going to win the election if you can't win macomb county, michigan. and macomb county, michigan is full of working class voters who were really hurt by the policies of joe biden and hillary clinton and, increasingly, donald trump, and they are interested in bernie sanders, and it's life or death for them. tell them you have a friend in michigan who has seen this first hand :). (hoping march tenth bears this out for us lol.)

gonna round out the hard issues section here by suggesting you read this, which i think is pretty convincing: https://newrepublic.com/article/156819/rebooting-bernie-sanders

today i talked to a guy who said, "bernie sanders, i think i heard obama likes him." and i said, yep, bernie worked really hard to pass some of obama's best policies. and that's true :)

in general, the sanders campaign relies really heavily on the "bernie story," the personal narrative. i think it probably works. it really works for me, because i can talk to people about the stuff that isn't just the green new deal and loan forgiveness--although you will definitely also end up talking to educated people who will need to be reminded that bernie sanders wants to forgive their loans and joe biden wants them to be saddled with them until the end of time. remember to talk to people about where you work and where you live. work and homes is the most important thing to absolutely everyone. tell them you have a teacher friend lol. talk to people about other people you've met. tell other people's stories.

in case you need guidance in this area, try a script that looks something like this (sorry if this is condescending and you already have seen the scripts, but i kind of modify them based on my strengths as a canvasser):

i'm so and so and i'm with the bernard sanders campaign and we're out reminding people to vote on [date].

do you plan on voting? do you know who you're voting for? can we count on you to vote for bernie? [remind people of the stakes of the election, it's gonna be a close one, talk to your friends and family.] [then get them to think about their election day plan: do you know where your polling location is? what time are you going? do you have transportation?] [try to have support info available for them if they do not have these things. if they're worrying about not being able to get off work, commiserate/be empathetic and don't blame.] [let them know how they can get involved in the campaign.]

if they say they are not voting, sometimes you can respect that (shoutout to jehovah's witness), but if they're on your list, they're probably registered, so you can ask them what kind of issues prevent them from voting. a lot of people will tell you that voting is stupid. you should agree with them (they are right). remind them that you would not normally be canvassing for a democratic candidate or any presidential candidate. you're working with tons of people who never canvassed, or maybe never even voted before. this is the first time in my entire life that i had the opportunity to vote for a candidate that addressed the issues that weigh on me on a day to day basis. a major candidate that hates the two party system and refuses to submit to democratic party nonsense. who has a plan that might actually work. a candidate that has a plan to make everybody's life better, even people who aren't out here canvassing for him. poor people. remind them that bernie sanders is the strongest candidate among non- and first-time voters! this area is a strength of mine because all of this is 100% true for me. i hate electoral politics and i hate the democratic party! if they have other reasons for not voting, see if you have any info that can help them. also remind them that this is a close race, an uphill battle, a difficult fight, and their vote is going to REALLY make a difference. but if we try, we will win.

if they say they "think" they know who they're voting for, they're probably thinking about someone else. you'd be surprised--i am so surprised--how many people have no idea, even up til they get to the polls, or they change their mind last minute. try to prepare a few sentences that are really personal but probably relatable that they can chew on. mine looks something like this: i'm from flint michigan and i've seen the way the government has started to let companies get away with absolutely anything, abandon families that have worked for them for generations, and weaken unions. i want fair wages, fair taxes and for companies to be accountable to their workers and the communities that make them run & make them rich, and that's the bernie sanders platform, and i fear joe biden's ideas are moving us in the same direction that we're already moving. my husband's family worked for GM for four generations but we can't get jobs in flint much less find a place to live. being from flint, and in my own working life, i've watched the power of unions just totally erode. i myself am in a teacher's union and just recently, for the first time in my life,i feel like we can move in a direction where workers have real power in their workplace. especially watching teachers and support staff rally behind sanders, or these huge strikes. sometimes here i also say something about schools! etc.! ! sometimes that's all you get, but sometimes people want to hear more! in either case, this will stick with them.

if they say they are undecided, ask them what kind of issues motivate them to vote, or ask them what they think about sanders. refer to all of the above, but don't argue, use bernie's positions to add to what they are saying, be a good empathetic active listener etc. but also make sure they know that you have shared experiences, agree with them. 99% of the time their issues will be better addressed by bernie, if they are working class people. sometimes they will reveal that they are nervous to vote for sanders. remind them of the size and energy of the base, and the electability arguments listed above. one of the reasons we want to canvass is to remind people--especially in conservative communities, where their neighbors may not even be voting in this primary--that it's okay and in fact very popular to vote for bernie, and we're competitive, and if we make it to the general we're gonna win. but it's not going to be easy [talk to your friends and family get involved go online etc.]

if they are leaning biden but undecided, sometimes it's fine to ask them why, ask them for a pitch. you can tell them that you agree, and that we have had a really strong contest this year, and maybe in another year biden would have been the strongest choice, but bernie's just better in all these areas, etc.

please lmk if you want more ideas! i'll try to take a picture of some of our documents tomorrow when i'm out.

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harryknowsme · 5 years ago

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Maybe should also mention I’m a nurse, so unfortunately I don’t have the luxury of staying home. I guess in a way I don’t need to worry about the bills at this moment, but I’m terrified of getting sick at this point. Family and friends are freaking out. Other nurses, workers I know are also getting scared. I guess seeing that post on Facebook kind of got to me. Like, really? I think promoting a concert/tour is really the last thing people kind of want to see right now, with all this uncertainty.

Yes. Being in the healthcare industry, food industry, supermarket industry, ANY industry right now that can’t actually work from home is a scary position to be in. Getting sick is a real fear, and I understand that fear. Daily I worry about the people in my life who can’t quarantine -- or who are losing jobs because their company is unable to maintain pay.

But judging Harry for promo that was set up months ago isn’t fair to him. Or his team. So please think before you say these things. I guarantee Harry and his team aren’t sitting around saying, “Oh, I know! Let’s push more promo!” In fact, on his 1Xtra interview, he didn’t even mention his tour or his album. Not once. He didn’t ask people to buy it. He didn’t tell people to buy tickets. He talked about how he was spending his quarantine time.

#Anon

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fanfics4all · 6 years ago

Text

Who the Hell?

Request: Yes / No I know this might sound super cliche, so I’d understand if you choose not to write this, but can you please do #23 and/or #24 with either Barry or Oliver and a female!reader. Again, I will fully understand if you don’t want to do this since it’s been done, but I’d love to see your take on it. Regardless, I’ve been loving the fics you’ve been posting lately (and all your previous ones of course!) 💕💕 Anon

Request are closed <3 Have a nice day/night

Oliver Queen x Fem!Reader

Word count: 1656

Warnings: Oliver getting hurt

Y/N: Your Name

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK!

If you want to be on the tag list for anything (My series fics, specific character fics, or just all of them) All you have to do is send me an ask and I will add you!

Masterlist

(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

When I was in school they told us about soulmates. They told us about what soulmates were, and how they worked. So we would get the same injuries as the other person. So when you’re a kid it’s normal stuff like scraped knees or a random bruise here or there, but when you get older they could be more serious. Especially now with Metahumans running around.

As I was growing up I didn’t get many injuries from my soulmate. The most I got was a bruise once in a while. That was until 2007. I got so many injuries over the next five years that I was worried if my soulmate was still alive! My friends and family were just as worried, they thought my soulmate was going to kill me and there was nothing anyone could do. I was just trying to live a normal life in this crazy world and my soulmate was making that hard to do. I was in and out of the hospital, thank god my insurance was amazing. I worked at Queen Consolidated with my best friend Felicity Smoak. She was one of the many people that was worried about what my Soulmate was going through, I was just happy I could hide the scars. Besides, I was still alive so they were as well. Lucky for me my soulmate must have been safe because I haven’t gotten any injuries for a few weeks.

“Did you hear Oliver Queen is alive?” Felicity said the second I walked into our office.

“I did, I also heard his father is dead. It’s weird that his mother is still alive though, I thought when your soulmate dies you also die?” I said confused and sat down at my desk.

“Not everyone lives by the whole soulmate thing Y/N.” She said and I shrugged.

“I don’t see why not, they’re your soulmate for a reason right?” I said and she nodded.

“Trust me, I’m with you, and I’m sure you want to meet yours since they pretty much put you through hell.” She said and I nodded.

“You bet I do! What the hell could they be doing that they get hurt so much! I’m so happy our healthcare is amazing.” I said and she laughed.

“I know, maybe they’re a spy or something.” She said and I raised an eyebrow at her.

“They must be a shitty spy then.” I said and she laughed again.

It’s been a couple of days and I was back to getting injuries. Luckily not as bad as they have been but still not fun. There was also a vigilante in town now, it was all over the news. Felicity and I were both working when someone walked in and cleared their throat.

“Felicity Smoak?” He asked and I looked up to see Oliver Queen. Felicity turned around and looked at him shocked.

“Hi, I’m Oliver Queen.” He said and I smirked at her.

“Of course. I know who you are, you’re Mr. Queen.” She said with a smile.

“No, Mr. Queen was my father.” He said.

“Right, but he’s dead. I mean, he drowned. But you didn’t, w-which means you could come down to the IT Department and-”

“Sorry about her, she sometimes doesn’t know when to stop talking or when not to say things.” I said jumping in and stopping her from saying something worse.

“I’m Y/N YL/N.” I said introducing myself.

“Oliver Queen.” He said and I smiled at him.

“What can we help you with Oliver?” I asked.

“I’m having some trouble with my computer and they told me that I should come down here.” He said and placed it on Felicity’s desk. The two of us looked at it confused.

“I was at my coffee shop surfing the web.” He started and we looked up at him.

“And I spilt a latte on it.” He said.

“Really?” Felicity said.

“Yeah.” He said.

“‘Cause these look like bullet holes.” She said.

“My coffee shop is in a bad neighborhood.” He said sticking with his story. Felicity tilted her head, she was too curious for her own good.

“If there is anything that you can salvage from it, I would really appreciate it.” He said.

“I’ll get right on that.” I answered before Felicity could ask anymore questions. I grabbed the computer and took it over to my desk.

“Thank you.” He said and I smiled at him. He came and sat next to me. I didn’t know he was going to stay, although, this wouldn’t really take that long. The contents of the compute flashed on my screen.

“It looks like blueprints.” I said.

“Do you know what of?” He asked.

“The exchange building.” I nodded and looked at him.

“Never heard of it.” He said.

“It’s where the Unidac Industry’s auction is scheduled to take place.” I said and he looked at me confused.

“I thought this was your laptop?” I asked confused.

“Yes.” He said with a nod.

“Look, I don’t wanna get in the middle of family drama.” I said.

“What?” He asked confused.

“Mr. Steele marrying your mother.” I said.

“I don’t see what your getting at.” He said.

“Mr. Steele is trying to buy Unidac Industries and you just happen to have a company laptop associated with one of the guys he’s competing with.” I said.

“Floyd Lawton.” He said.

“No.” I said confused.

“Warren Patel.” I said and he looked at me.

“Who’s Floyd Lawton?” I asked.

“He is an employee of Mr. Patel, evidently.” He said, I was even more confused.

“Well, can you put this on a drive or something?” He asked.

“Sure.” I said and put it on a flash drive for him.

“Here you go.” I said and he took it with a smile.

“Thank you.” He said and left our office.

“That was suspicious.” Felicity said.

“Tell me about it.” I said and went back to working.

Over the next few weeks Oliver had come in for more help. I of course helped him because I wanted to keep my job, I wasn’t stupid. It was late at night and Felicity and I were just finishing work. I felt a sudden pain in my chest and groaned.

“Y/N?” Felicity asked worriedly. I looked down and saw blood start to spread through my shirt.

“Oh fuck.” I groaned in pain. I fell to the ground and Felicity screeched in shock.

“I think I need to go to the hospital.” I said weakly and Felicity nodded. She grabbed both our things and helped me up. She took me to her car and sat me in the passenger seat then rushed to the other side.

“Okay, okay.” She mumbled to herself. We heard a groan from her back seat and turned to see The Hood. Felicity screamed in shock, I was in too much pain to be shocked right now.

“I’m not gonna hurt you, Felicity and Y/N.” He said.

“How you you know our names?” She asked. The man took off his hood and it was Oliver Queen.

“Because you know my name.” He said and both of us were shocked.

“O-Oliver. Oh wow. Everything about you just became so unbelievably clear.” She said.

“You’re bleeding!” She said.

“I don’t need to be told that.” He said panting.

“Felicity! Hospital!” I groaned.

“Right, yes, of course!” She said and started the car, but before she could start driving Oliver stopped her.

“My, my father’s old factory in the Glades.” He said.

“No, you, you need a doctor, not a steelworker.” She said looking at him confused.

“Felicity, you have to promise me that you are gonna take me to my father’s factory and nowhere else.” He said.

“Felicity, just drop him off there and take me to the hospital or the other way around!” I groaned.

“Is she okay?” He asked.

“She was fine until a bullet hole appeared in her chest and- Oh my God you two are soulmates!” She said happily.

“That’s great now fucking get me to a hospital!” I groaned, I really didn’t care about soulmates right now. She drove to the factory and ran inside after trying to help him. A large dark skinned man rushed out and helped get him out of the car. I could feel myself losing consciousness.

“Is she alright?” Was the last thing I heard before I passed out.

I expected to wake up in the hospital, but I woke up in a dark dusty looking room. I groaned and sat up. I looked around and saw Felicity wasn’t here but Oliver was and same with the dark skinned man.

“Welcome back to the land of the living.” The dark skinned man said with a smile.

“Where am I? Where’s Felicity?” I asked, I noticed I didn’t have a shirt on either. I covered myself up and Oliver placed a blanket around me.

“Felicity is upstairs, she’ll be back down in a minute.” Oliver said.

“I’m John Diggle by the way.” The dark skinned man said.

“Y/N Y/L/N.” I said with a small smile.

“I should leave you two alone for a minute.” He said and left. Oliver was also shirtless and I noticed he had the same scars that I did.

“So your the person that’s been having me in and out of the hospital.” I said and he looked at me with a sorrowful expression.

“I’m so sorry, I never really thought about how this was affecting my soulmate…” He said and I sighed.

“It’s fine.” I said and he shook his head.

“It’s not, you almost died because of me. Multiple times.” He said and I gave him a smile.

“But we’re both alive.” I said and he looked at me.

“So tell me about yourself, Oliver Queen. Because I think there’s a lot to know.” I said and he gave me a small smile.

Tag list: @les-bio-lie @tashy-bear @xrosesareredx @herokyolachan @ashwarren32 @hollie-blogs @schisbro87 @lover-of-books-and-teas @nerdygaloresposts @alex--awesome--22 @teenwolfbitches2 @genius2050 @drw0301bieber @tigermillionaire-philanthropist @marveloverdcsstuff @lady-of-lies

#arrow #arrowverse #oliver queen #oliver queen x reader #oliver queen x fem!reader #Felicity Smoak #John Diggle #fanfic #request #arrow season 1 #valentine's day #soulmate #soulmate au

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namjoonchronicles · 6 years ago

Text

heart wide open | sj

pairing: seokjin x you

genre: medical, angst like hella, mature themes

words: this baby is 9k+

warning: mentions of death, abortion, immorality, social status, medical malpractice, disrespect towards family constitution etc.. Written out of unhealthy rage and mind. seokjin is a doctor AND an heir.

summary: Seokjin is a snotty, spoiled rich boy, greedy and insensitive boy; and you somehow got him kneeling...little did he know that he was in for a ride.

"His appearance is... how should I say," the hoarseness of your voice pierce through the phone, "...cloaked in a prim pretense of vast distaste in what he does, and I think we have a winner." You enveloped your lips around the bud of a cigarette and blow a cloud of nicotine in the air of your desk, flicking the ashes on the ashtray with a satisfied grin, drawn on your face.

And that was how it all began. The facade.

Curiosity was man's greatest downfall. His unassuming gaze, unchallenged ego will become the tools that will bring you, your most provocative provocation. The bubbling excitement in the pit of your heart begins to rattle in a momentous thrilling sensation that the room could feel. You will handle him the way you will always handle your unfortunate conquests. But this time, you will give him everything your past flings never had--your name. You were vastly certain that in every turn of events that unfolds had made him destined to meet you. It is almost unfortunately fortunate for him, that you will give him everything a man could desire, but also, gave him absolutely nothing, lesser than a beggar.

Seducing Dr. Kim Seokjin will be a fun endeavor.

A messy stack of papers thrown, sliding across, stopping at the edge of the table. Jungkook massages the bridge of his nose and you placed your hand on those papers, when Jungkook sighed heavily, "How will you attempt to capture this callous man?"

Maintaining the smile laced with relentless manipulation, you lean to the back of your chair and spun around to give Jungkook your back. With the view of the back of your head, Jungkook heard you calmly say, "...your job is done." The flips of papers turned, the sound of the ceiling fan spinning and the faint sound of classical music in the background was the only thing Jungkook heard in exchange of his questions. Proposing masked defiant, cheeked furrowed with strong purpose and emotions, chafed in the restraints imposed on him, Jungkook leaves the room, along with his buried roses of hope that eventually, he might be the one knowing all the things you were hiding, but he leaves without his answers, and doesn't intend to come back. Above all, you wanted it that way. Selfish, unrelenting detachments, your heart of glass and head of stones will never allow any part of you to be seen by the world. Holding onto jars of secrets that eats you alive, was the only life you knew how to live.

You will obtain Kim Seokjin one way or another. "Curiosity was man's greatest downfall." The only way to obtain a man's attention is, to be unlike the others he had.

Kim Seokjin.

He dashes through the odds of clamming, deceitful eyes of desire, becoming the walking epitome of the phrase: Irresistible magnetism. Clothed in a bewitching manner of a fictional character, Seokjin was unhealthily desired by all gaze that befalls upon him. His powerful strides and terrible good looks are what the nurses call, heavenly beaconing. Naturally, full-volumed lips pout when at rest, probably taste like rose petals to those wanting more than what was given. "Nurse Jung, I have that operation room ready at the said time, right? I shall tolerate no delays..." he slides his arm on the counter at the twinkling eyes of the young nurses in-charge of scheduling the operation theatre. "Yes," he heard and moves away. That's when the nurse left her desk and jogged after Seokjin's long legs, that sped away without any means to slow down, she breathlessly asked, "...and as usual, students wanted excess to your surge--"

"--I don't entertain children, I made that quite clear, in our many encounters, haven't I. I am never going to change my mind," He stated, bluntly and walked straight down the empty hallway of the hospital leading to the staffs' bathroom, leaving Nurse Jung behind. He darted into the first cubicle and set the toilet seat cover down and sat. Right at noon, he received a message from a distant relative about the death of a member of his family and the bank of a fund transfer from Yokhan Pharmaceutical Industries. He threw a fist in the air, exhilarated from the amount of money he is getting from the commission of using the medications from Yokhan Pharmaceutical, although the hospital he works in, already have stronger and potent drugs to use. He kept introducing the said medication and made his patients pay more than required for the prolonged unnecessary and elongated 'treatments'. This is, of course, goes unnoticed by many members of the medical center board since Seokjin continuously mention how he is bringing profit to the hospital through this wretched malpractice.

But his appeal in making profits didn't go unnoticed by most of the team from the pharmacy. And he despises having to beg for his medications, so he bribed one of the key members of the pharmacy who was eager to 'eat ass' if it means he could be friends with the most popular member of the medical society, Dr. Kim Seokjin. He noticed Taehyung's eagerness to solicit to the board members and uses the young men's impaired friendship skills to gain benefits. With Taehyung's unquestionable loyalty and waning life principles', he was able to gain medications despite the director of Pharmacy not being very fond of him. Healthcare was business for Seokjin and it will never change. His unremorseful attitude even though there was a death in the family, goes hidden in his prim pretense in his occupation. He is a tactless and callous man of the healthcare with a medical degree. Unfitting, isn't it? A dry detached man working in the most emotionally and physically taxing field that requires humanly judgments in the everyday encounter. And Seokjin's emotional incapability is sheathed with his vast medical knowledge he forced himself to memorize with.

Blatantly ignoring the message from the family, he leaves the hospital's staff bathroom, only to be captured by a slender figure in her doctor's coat, placing her pristine hand atop of Seokjin's chest, silencing him with a deep, not-just-friends kiss on his lips. Seokjin was pushed against the wall of the empty pantry, next to the vending machine by the bathroom door, obscenely touched by this female doctor, with his eyes wide open, catching the CCTV at the back of her head. "...what the fuck, stop," his words were muffled and he had to pull away by force. "Please, it's been weeks...we have not seen each other in weeks," she pleads, tugging his coat, scratching her manicured nails against Seokjin's dress shirt, breathlessly pleading with everything she has and Seokjin remains unbothered. Seokjin took her in his able arm, rests her head on his broad shoulder and whispered, "You come to me one more time," Seokjin pauses, "...I'm going to make you disappear. I'm gonna have you fired for malpractice. Don't forget, there's only one copy of our sex tape." He yanks the female's hair back and her grasp on him loosens as he brushed his shoulder against hers and continued walking. Unremorseful.

He ran his fingers through his brown locks and glared at the CCTV. "Fucking bitch." He muttered. "Making me lose my money." Because he knows he needs to pay the security team leader a handsome amount of money to delete that footage that could have ended his career as the nation's leading cardiologist working in Emergency Unit. Slapping a stack of money on the security director's desk, Seokjin kept a cold unforgiving gaze. The middle-aged man took it with a wide grin, groaning pleasantly, "Oh dear doctor, you didn't have to. But since you insist, how can I say no." Seokjin leaves the room immediately, without prolonging the conversation because he dislikes talking to people not on the same level as he is. He is a doctor, he does not talk to people from the low class. In his shallow mind, he believes social classes are important to maintain orders in the world. A belief that his fellow colleague doesn't necessarily agree on despite being on the same social status as Seokjin is and his name is, "Dr. Namjoon... fancy to see you here. Working overtime?" He greeted the tall lad with glasses, from a distance away.

Namjoon darts his eyes to the side pressing his dimple to show ultimate distaste before turning to face Seokjin again, with a fabricated smile. "...No, senior. Working on time. Like the rest of us," Namjoon passes a knowing look to a fellow Emergency Unit medical officer, Dr. Min Yoongi as the latter hastes away after prompted by a nurse. There must be another emergency. Yoongi hasn't had his lunch and Namjoon was going to get it with him, but their plans are shattered because Yoongi needs to work and it was all due to someone not being exactly responsible. "Cheer up, it's not a straining field if you learn how to have a little fun... you're so stiff and uptight. I like you better when you're drunk," Seokjin delivers a brotherly slap on Namjoon's upper arm with a sweet smile. He blinks to Namjoon's ring finger and notices something, "Don't tell me," he pauses and shifts his weight to one foot, "...don't tell me she called off the wedding." Namjoon darted his gaze to the end of the hallway and then to his leather shoes, jutting his chin out and clenching his jaw before answering, "...she did."

Seokjin bursts in tumultuous laughter. Namjoon did not join him. "Wow..." Seokjin cackled, wiping the tears in the corners of his eyes, "I didn't expect that she would..." He roars in laughter again, "...she was really no fun! I think I did you a favor, Namjoon. Think about it." Namjoon glares at the floor instead of Seokjin, remaining absolutely calm for the storm raging in his heart. He lost the love of his life because of what Seokjin did. "What favor," he brazenly asked, and Namjoon never once talked back to Seokjin, taking Seokjin by surprise, "...I lost my future wife." Seokjin leans to the side to catch Namjoon's solemn expression, smile still wide on his own face as if he had done absolutely nothing wrong. "...Dude. If you married her, you would never have a threesome. She's conservative as fuck, traditional. It's the millennials baby, no one does monogamy anymore...grow the fuck up," Seokjin straightens up and fisted his knuckle to knock against Namjoon's temple.

"...you're not as smart as I thought you are, Namjoon. And that's sad because I see potentials in you. You being drunk are handsy, and very receptive. You think it's my fault that she left, you were the one who walked into that hotel room. I simply gave you the key, but it was your choice to enter," Seokjin peered at Namjoon, challenging. "Know your fucking place in this hospital, Namjoon. One word from me, and you're gone. How unfortunate will that be, knowing you just got here with my father's consent. Be smarter than that," Seokjin gave a kissy sound on his lips and brushed his shoulder against Namjoon unwavering stance. Fist held tight to his side, Namjoon attempted to unravel the twisted knot in his neck by making a half-circle with his head. Seokjin thinks he is above everyone. His father is a powerful politician with incredible power to make anyone disappear. He was dubbed as 'The Midas Fingers' for his ability to bring wealth to anyone he mentions and chose as friends. But his views are heavily influenced by his youngest son, Kim Seokjin.

The youngest of two boys, the cardiologist of the nation, is late for his grandfathers' funeral. "Call him." His father commanded and that's when he walked in black ties and suit. Boldly, he strode through the invitees consisting of socialites and wealthy families from all around South Korea. "Sorry I was late," he exclaimed to his father,"...I wasn't planning to come." His father who heard what he said, clears his throat as Seokjin came to stand next to him. "...What's the point, the old man doesn't even like me? I bet have less than 25% of his wealth he accumulated from you," Seokjin whispered as the priest begins to talk about the good of the deceased. Seokjin was passed a folded paper containing the eulogy of the deceased that he reluctantly accepts. He taps the mic twice to make sure it was working and scanned the room of people waiting for benefits of attending this ceremony.

He begins with a clear of the throat and a sip of water, preparing to 'cloth' himself with pretentious remorse, maybe shed a little tear. The ceremony will be broadcasted around South Korea and telecasted as he is the important 1% of the society. And everyone wants to know about the most desired bachelor in the country three years running. "He..." Seokjin's voice croaked from the sweet candy he had in the car a few minutes before he arrived, and the audience whirred mourningly--thinking that it must be hard for him to lose an important family member--when all Seokjin was concerned about was to end the ceremony as quickly as he can to catch a birthday party starting at 10 pm at local nightclub. "Let me try one more time," he sniffed, "...I am Kim Seokjin, grandson of the deceased and I'm a doctor." The audience stayed very still, although grey thoughts were surrounding the large memorial hall. "I got the message at noon but I was in the surgery saving lives. The irony," he added a dry chuckle to propose sadness essence to the tone, "Saving strangers when your own family passes without you knowing... it took awhile for me to process the information and the drive here was longer than I intended, more difficult than I could ever imagine."

He inhales, and turns away from the mic, before clearing his throat, "Sorry," he needlessly apologized, "...Grandpa, you are the person who helped me with my first step, teaching me all the greatest thing about the country I lived in, the hard-earned democracy that countless lives were sacrificed by the means of freedom of thoughts and speech.

My grandpa’s generosity, work ethic, humility, and selflessness are all qualities that I admire him for, and qualities I myself aspire to. In conclusion, Grandpa will be missed dearly. I hope to someday become half the man he was. People like my Grandpa are one in a million, billions, perhaps. His electric presence reels in every curious eye and led his world in the most graceful manner, a human could possibly.

Albert Einstein once said, “Our death is not an end if we can live on in our children and the younger generation. For they are us, our bodies are only wilted leaves on the tree of life.”

So let us celebrate Grandpa’s life and continue his legacy. Thank you, Grandpa. I love you, and will miss you." The audience hung their heads low and was in silence for about a minute before Seokjin leaves the stage and dashed straight to the exit then into the bathroom. He splashes water to his face to clean the tears he 'shed' and flushes the eye lubricant bottle into the toilet, watching it being swallowed, never to be seen again. Then he walks outside the hall, clicking his sports' car engine to hurl, while the halls were saying grace. He knows that his father's close acquaintances will cover for him, explaining his disappearance as a 'need of privacy' when he is making his way to the nightclub, a few minutes after his grandfather's eulogy was delivered. Entering the nightclub with a black face mask on, he sheds his blazers for a black silk dress shirt and a chrome heart necklace. Upon entering he was greeted by the bouncers who don't even know who he is but know that he is not to be questioned, understanding his exclusivity with a simple passing of cold gazes.

And that's when he found you. You briskly stride pass him with a vixen like manners, lingering gaze and an evil curve of your lips, the childlike contour of your body rendered him to decide that you were not his type at all. And yet, his eyes couldn't leave you. You halted his steps but he did nothing more but a glance. If you keep this up, he will never succumb. He is used to someone dressing up this way, so you need something different, something extraordinarily ordinary to capture his attention. Something, very...plain. But before you completely disappear from his sight, you heard a girls' voice calling his name upon walking into a private entertainment room. "I need to talk to you," this girl breathed, desperately. From the corners of your eyes, she could pass for a model with those long legs and gorgeous hair. You imagined her tugging on Seokjin's sleeve and you intend to listen to more so you hid behind the wall and eavesdropped. "Not here," Seokjin, pulled down his mask, and grabbed the girls' thin wrist, dragging her outside to the balcony, the first floor of the booming club. Where no one was, or so he thought.

You followed discreetly, taking off your heels and hid underneath an unused bar. "What is it," Seokjin's voice was stern and the girl begins to sniff. "I'm pregnant..." she looked intently to Seokjin and you clasped your mouth to keep yourself silent. Seokjin rolled his head back, hissing, "You said you were on pills! I warned you I wasn't going to pull out." She sniffs again, spilling the words of 'please'. "...For all I know it might not even be mine, everyone knows you fuck around with anybody," Seokjin swatted her hands away, heartlessly. "How could you. I leave everyone for you. I gave you everything..." She broke in a stupendous roar, upon the shuddering air. Seokjin did not waiver one bit. He was mindful of what is not his mistake. It was hers. She was supposed to be on pills. "Abort it..." she raspily says in a whisper, "...you abort it for me. You know best." Seokjin turns to her with an unreadable expression and he said, "...I will not do such a thing and sacrifice what I've worked so hard for."

The girl dropped to her knees, "I will tell the world what you did to me." And he quipped, "And I'll tell the world that you lied. Because honey, I'm the most eligible bachelor in town right now, the most kind and promotes abstinence, no one will believe a thing you say. Shall I remind you all the wretched things you do, just to get some penny in your panties, you slut?"

And he says it in a way that doesn't fit his angelic demure. She collapsed into a dreary and hysterical depression as Seokjin leaves the scene to resume his purpose being there, enjoying a birthday party, in the most subtle way he can. Because he is still feigning sadness for his grandfathers' death in the eyes of the public. Even in front of his so-called friends. "Sorry, for what happened to your grandfather..." they all say, "Let's cheer up!" Piercing the air with their bottles of hard liquors, getting increasingly drunk as minutes passed but Seokjin remained unbothered by every hit of alcohol he plunged into his stomach, lips stern with profound sturdiness, he hits the stagnant part of his life, delve into the loneliness despite being surrounded by people.

He mocks the study of psychology; disbelieving that mental illness is an illness at all, and here he is feeling exactly as the textbook says.

When the girl who claimed she was pregnant begin to gather herself, so did you. She left and you climbed out of your hiding place and smiled. "He is the one."

Spiraling down the path wickedness, you brought your feet to the family's residents feeling rather bold as you await Seokjin to come to your side. He shut the car door and scanned momentarily to this nice neighborhood. His face was curious, like everything else about you, he was inclined to know more and more. "Dr. Kim Seokjin...please come in." Your mother greeted at the door. You knew your mother was incredibly smitten by what she saw. The future son in law was everything she ever wanted in life, what she dreamt of. Now she has something to be proud of. Her daughter is marrying the most eligible bachelor in town, Dr. Kim Seokjin. She always emphasizes the title 'Doctor' to her friends and close relatives, and she can't believe she is finally seeing the most wanted doctor in the city. Her excitement sprites through her veins and spilling through her words and the air around her. Your father wasn't as expressive as your mother was, but he was smiling too. He greeted Seokjin with a firm, manly handshake and invited you both in.

"What took you so long to come over?" Your mother spoke, gleefully at Seokjin, touching him once in awhile, sitting next to him on the dining table. "...Ask her, I was eager to meet you guys but she was persistently saying no to every advances I make," Seokjin didn't feel out of place, he fitted right in. A family constitution he never experienced. "...She can be too careful sometimes," your mother bashfully say, and you returned her a stricken thin smile, "But with a doctor, you shouldn't be overly careful, my daughter." Your mother proceeds to invite him for a sleepover, there's a guest empty room that's always ready for anyone who came. At first, he said no, and with a tiny nod from you, he finally surrenders to your mother. Your father still gave him tight-lipped conversations. While Seokjin is swooning your mother by hardly doing anything but a small sharing of his medical knowledge, your father looks at you worriedly. Noticing this, your father excuses himself and you to talk outside, by the swing in the garden.

"Join me on the swing?" He said, and carefully led the way. The night was scattered with stars and the moon shined ever so brightly, appearing to be closer than they technically are and you smiled, pleasantly at the sight. It really has been awhile.

Sitting right next to your father, he sighed. "The air is refreshing..." he began. You nodded and gathered your hand to your lap. "You're about to be married. It seems like just yesterday you're asking me for an ice cream on a tricycle I got you for your fifth birthday...I can't believe how times have passed. When I look at my wrinkling hands and my greying hair, I realize that I've spent more times with my work than I do with you and your mom..." He reminisces and sat there, and listened. "...I can't say I'm not excited, but I wasn't exactly around to say I've helped her raised what you've become," he added. You felt your heart sunk when he said so because it wasn't true. You understood why he had to be away. He had to be away to put food on the table. "I'm sorry to break your heart like this, dad..." you thought as you watched his side profile. You didn't remember him being this old. How times have passed.

He looks up with his tired eyes at the same night sky, and he sighed before asking you gently, "It's love isn't it?" You stared blankly at him with your glassy eyes because in your heart you know it wasn't. You weren't in love with Seokjin.

You were using him.

Two in the morning and he texted, "Can I come see you?" You saw the shadows of his feet underneath the gap of your door and you weren't even sleeping because you were typing on an article you were supposed to email in three days. "It isn't locked," you replied and the knob twisted. He brought his pillow with him and proceed to timidly walk into your room. His face was pouty and innocent, as he sat on the well-made bed, testing the waters. The boldness and unforgiving look he used to bore, had long disappeared. "...Why are you not asleep yet?" He asked, gently, like a child. "I'll sleep when I want to, just because you're allowed in my room, doesn't mean you're entitled to tell me how to live my life..." you shot, bluntly. He visibly gulped from the reflections of him you caught from your dressing table mirror. "The fact that you're sitting on my bed without my permission is distressful enough for me. Don't make me kick you out and leave you hanging," you exhaled through your nose and saw him lifting himself from your bed and down to sit on the floor, next to it.

"...What do you want." You stopped typing momentarily and Seokjin straightens up. "I was... hoping if I could stay the night here."

"You are." "No, I mean. In your room."

You didn't give him a definite answer but continued working without saying another word and that's when he figured that he pitches into his curiosity, "Did I say something wrong at dinner?"

You tipped your eyes upward and spun the chair towards his direction and Seokjin succumbed under duress, casting his eyes towards the floor. "Why on earth would you say that, sweetie?" Your sudden change of tone relaxes him but also leaves him guarded. The confusion excites him. "I don't know, you just seemed very different after we leave dinner," upon hearing this from him, you gradually leave your desk and make your way towards him. He lifts his head up to look at you, and those orbs begin to cast their spell on you so before it could empower you, you tenderly thumbed his cheek and leaned down for a kiss on his nose, not on the lips as he anticipated. "Wouldn't my parents be surprised to find the guest room empty the next morning? You naughty boy, you are very daring," you beacon him to crawl into bed with you and he lays his head on your stomach while you play with his hair.

"...say I have surgery." He proposed a white lie, with such innocent face. You continued to chuckle warmly. "You do love me right?" He hesitantly asked. You stared blankly at the wall before you, while playing with his black locks, burying his face on the side of your waist, "...of course." You answered dryly. Only you know the real answer.

The marriage happened, and bit by bit, you changed your personality. The bubbly, irresistible string of laughter is gone, you became silent from each approach he makes, making him wonder why has the relationship gone stagnant. "Why did you never tell me about your parents until now?" He asked, meekly. "What do you mean by that?" You mindlessly scroll down to your phone, reading today's news that you missed because of this meeting. "It's been three months since we got married. Your mother thinks we're still engaged to be married, don't you talk to your parents at all?" He boldly asked. You tipped your gaze to shoot against the blank TV screen you have in your childhood room. Quite spacious since you were an only child. Chewing the insides of your cheeks, you try to hide the fact that you were unpleased. He was really pushing his boundaries despite your warning glances thrown at him, through out the evening. "...Just go with it. You and I, we both know that our parents doesn't really pay attentions to what we do say. If she calls you a future son-in-law, you go along with the statement. We'll have a second wedding, if we need to."

"Can't we just tell them the truth?" Seokjin pleading eyes, rendered you silent. So you did, you told them the truth.

Your mother set the plates on the table and Seokjin climbed down the stairs, hair still dripping wet from the shower. He hid behind the wall and listened. "...That's fantastic news but it would have been easier if you've just told us. Now how do we explain to the relatives that you've already been married?" Your mother sounded delighted but wasn't very elated, that was until she saw Seokjin walking in. "Are you pregnant?" She asked.

"N-" "Yes."

Seokjin shot his confused glance at you. "How many months?" Mother replied, although she looks terribly overjoyed by it. "11 weeks." You darted. Your mother clapped her hands, hopping in place with a big smile. She fetches the house phone and began dialing, "I have to tell everyone!" She leaves the kitchen. And Seokjin caught you clasping your hands together. "Honey?" He called for you. "Be quiet..." you muttered. "What are you doing?" He asked.

You lowered your head. Slowly, you turned away from him, lifting yourself from the tall stool and walked away, but Seokjin caught your wrist and held on firmly, and "...We don't even sleep together. We never even had s--"

"Stop it. Shut up." "Why are you lying? I want to know why you're lying." "Divorce me if you want. I dare you."

This was not the first time you used the word 'Divorce' to end a fight. It happened numerous times before.

Again and again, Seokjin let it slide. He knew for certain, that his life was going to take a different path now.

Pathetically, he told himself that even if the child isn't his, he was going to take care of it. Karma. That's what he thought. The women he is very much in love with is doing this to him for what happened in the past. He realises it. If this was a punishment from the heaven, then, he will gladly embrace it. On a dinner night with his colleague, you were speaking to the other wives of the surgeons there, and they handed you an alcohol. Seokjin saw you taking a glass of it and excused himself from the current conversation he was having, to take away that glass from you. "There's alcohol in that cocktail," he sounded clipped and as another waiter passes you, you extended your arm to another glass and took a daring sip while holding your gaze on Seokjin's worried pair of eyes.

"Wow, what a loving husband. I never thought you were like this," Dr. Min Yoongi's wife smiled, and patted your hand. "...Lucky you. Seokjin almost never attend dinners like these until you came around."

"Did he now? You'll be seeing my face more often from now onwards, Mrs. Min," you gracefully told her and Seokjin hasn't left your side. When they called the couples for a dance, you took Seokjin's hand and dragged him to the dance floor. In strangers eyes, you both had the most perfect marriage ever, only exist in fairytales. But Seokjin underwent emotional duress almost everyday that he would care less to dwell about, knowing how chafing it is to take back what he so boldly declared: Mental illness is an illusion. You were seen smiling at him, talking in sweet whispers but what the conversation was really about is threatening, full-blown threats. "...Why did you take alcohol when you're pregnant?" He softly asked, feeling your temple resting against his chin, while he rocks your body in a smooth intoxicating sway. "Why do you care." You shot. "Look, I don't mind if it isn't mine. I'll take care of it, just like my own... We all make mistakes... We can start over, I'm not perfect either, I do wretched things in the past," he pulled away and spoke to you.

"You must be delusional to be thinking that I'm going to give you a chance. Why would you raise something that isn't yours?" You quipped. And he said the darndest thing, that kept you awake, weeks after he said it, "Because I love you. I really love you. I'm stupidly, hopelessly, deeply... in love with you."

Realising that Seokjin will not back away from the marriage, you sought after Jungkook. "What do you propose I do?" He asked, pushing his hair back, groaning in his leather seat of his tiny and run-down office. The 'Private Investigator' sticker is peeling off at the edges, he slaps your envelope of money on the desk, next to his abundant files, of cheating husbands and extra-marital cases. "...Miscarriage. Make me a miscarriage portfolio," You released your lips from your teeth and stood up from the chair. "You're going too far with this," Jungkook exhales sharp, through his nose, he watches you leave his office, and exclaimed, "Faking a miscarriage costs you double!" You waved your hand and left without turning behind you, not even once. You already had an idea, and Jungkook just had to proceed with the portfolio. But how do you fake a miscarriage, when you're not even pregnant?

With a little digging, you found out that Dr. Min Yoongi wasn't exactly fond of Kim Seokjin. But due to the good friendship you sustained with his wife, you had convinced Yoongi to bring Seokjin for an alcohol night with the pretense of wanting to surprise him once he got home. You told Yoongi to get him as drunk as he can, just enough to lose bodily coordination. With a little help from Jungkook, he managed to insert a psychedelic drug into Seokjin's last drink and became his designated driver for the night, inserting another dose to his 'energy' drink. When he got home, thoroughly disoriented, you pretended to carry him inside.

But even then, Seokjin was able to make up your face.

"Oh, hi... you're very pretty. Do you have a boyfriend?" He slurred as Jungkook passed his limp body to you. "Are you sure you got him drugged?" You whispered, hissing. "Slightly above the recommended dose, but boy, can he drink. I'll send the portfolios to you tomorrow," You heard Jungkook say.

"I'm your wife." You darted at Seokjin and he drunkenly smile, in reply. Jungkook shut the door and left with his car. "Shit, I have a hot wife," he wriggled his head at you, trying to stabillize himself, "The world is going in circle, sweetie... I can hear colours." You took him up the stairs and once you got to the first level, you let go off him and threw yourself off, rolling down. You purposely didn't wear any panties during your period, so you had blood trails, dripping down your thighs to mimic a miscarriage. The force made you expel more blood even though you were unhurt. Your focus was that the CCTV caught you falling, right after Seokjin was out of the frame so it seemed that Seokjin had pushed you. Laying in the pool of your own blood, you called your trusted friend, Mrs. Min Yoongi. When she got there, she was horrified and took you to your clinic, which had already been bribed by Jungkook to hand over a miscarriage portfolio. "You have another miscarriage. You have to report to the police," the fake doctor said, and Mrs. Min heard every word.

"Are you telling me, that this is not the first time?" Mrs. Min was horrified, and tried calling her husband but you stopped her. "Please, no. Seokjin will hurt me more, if he knew," You lied. Everything was going according to plan.

Seokjin woke up with a buzz in his head, laying face down on the floor. His blood shot eyes and busted lips, the ache in his body he didn't remember having, starts to piece themselves as the drug began to wane off. He carried himself down the stairs, visions still quite blurred until he steps over something very sticky. He knelt down, holding on to the rails and saw, blood. Trails of blood, a pool of them on the base of the stairs and called out for you. "Honey! Honey, there's blood on the floor, where are you?!" He yanks open the front door to see policemen gathering in front of his bungalow.

"You are under arrest for inflicting physical harrassment towards your wife and her unborn child.

You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to have an attorney. If you cannot afford one, one will be appointed to you by the court.

With these rights in mind, are you still willing to talk with me about the charges against you?"

The most sought-after bachelor, the city's most talented cardiologist, spend a night in jail. Jungkook snapped his head to you, "Now what?" You gave him a sweet smile, "Now, I play angel."

Placed under steel seat, of the interrogation room, Seokjin was drilled to answer questions the cops darted on him.

"Were you drunk when you returned home last night?" "I suppose." "Did you intentionally hit your wife when you're drunk?" "I'd...I would never! I would never hurt her."

The detective threw him captures from the CCTV footage that showed a sequence of you carrying him up the stairs and then you came tumbling down helplessly, with him out of the frame. He lifts his cuffed wrist to pull the photos nearer to him, so he could see clearer. He looks up, pleading. "...I'm. I didn't push her. She's my wife," Seokjin shook his head, his hair was messy and he looked like he was about to lose his mind. "...I didn't do it, I'm innocent." He repeatedly say, and a knock interupted the interogation. A uniformed man came to give the detective an envelope. "...He has a lawyer now, and the result from the lab is back. It's positive," the uniformed man left after saying those words and Seokjin snapped his head up, repeatedly asking, "What's positive? Tell me what's positive?"

The detective took one glance and slap the stack of papers to Seokjin's angelic face. "Your urine was tested positive for happy pills Nimetazepam, doctor," the detective mocked him. "I've been framed, I've never taken drugs, someone must have placed them in my drinks," Seokjin begged for it to be investigated and then your father walked in. His father-in-law. "My daughter dropped all charges against him," he clears his throat and glided his eyes towards his son-in-law who is now on the floor, tugging at the detectives trousers. He walked out from the interrogation to see you, they uncuffed him and you didn't blink once. You were taking in every view of it, how disporpotionate he looked, his messed up hair, his bruised face, and his ruined future. "If he continues to hurt you, divorce him." Your father adviced, linking his hand behind him, and walked away when Seokjin approached. Your mother rushed through the entrance and gave him a slap across his face.

You dropped your head to stop yourself from smiling. "Bastard." Your mother cursed at him. Then you put on a sad expression and reached him, to caress his face and pulled him into an embrace. He weakly buried his face into the crook of your nape. You reasted your head on his sturdy chest and sighed, "Let's go home." Using your father's power and his, the criminal record was erased. He regained his job and you lived your life normally as a married couple. As he gathered his reputation again, you ensured he come home to a good meal.

Be a good wife, finally. This time, you'll tell him everything, and you'll ask him to file for a divorce.

He was silent most of the time. During the dinner, you carefully told him everything, A to Z.

"Why did you do that? Why did you ruin my life?" He softly asked, a voice coming from a broken man. "I wanted to show my parents that doctors aren't angels," you stabbed your brocolli and shove them inside your mouth, unremorseful, "...They always think so highly of doctors that they forgot, doctors can make mistakes too. They usually mock me because I dreaded away from becoming a doctor eventhough I could. Tell me how my friends are lucky to be one, reminding me what trash I've become for being less than what they wanted me. A stupid writer, they call me."

Vividly, you remembered every salty glances they threw at you. How you were a disgrace to the family. Throwing away your chances to be a medical officer, by performing poorly in your foundation studies. You remembered the days where you ran away from home, wanting to be in a writing school because you aspired to be a writer, hiding in petrol stations bathroom, living as a nomad for what you wanted to become. And they caught you again, threw you in pharmacy school and this time you aced it. You thought they would be happy, but the man you were in love with, were engaged to a doctor, a paeditrician. They threw his wedding invitation in your face. "This wouldn't happen if you were a doctor. Why would he marry anyone less than that?" Your mother spat in your face. You ran away again, you leave town. You bought a second-hand car with the money your father secretly gave you, from a young man you knew working as a private investigator--Jungkook.

It was the beginning of a relationship fairly understood by the world. You were a writer and he did the digging. He had to keep his hands dirty, so yours could stay clean. Before long, you were writing more and more about controversial matters under a penname. That's how you got your money. The car, the apartment. You decided that it's time to show your mother, how successful you are, despite her opposition. So you ordered Jungkook to find you a "...callous doctor." The search was not easy, but Jungkook delivers. He always do. Jungkook massages the bridge of his nose and you placed your hand on those papers, when Jungkook sighed heavily, "How will you attempt to capture this callous man?"

A tear escaped the corner of your eyes as you stare blankly towards the wall, "To obtain someone you never had, you have to do something you've never done." Seokjin stared at his untouched food as he listened. "The accident, was it intentional?" He asked.

You let a dry chuckle escaped. "My greatest masterpiece."

Seokjin just left his bungalow, with two large containers of his homemade kimbap and on his way on the usualy route to the hospital when he revises the schedule of the day through his phone planner. "There's a high community gathering today, I wonder how long it's going to take," he murmured. He glances to the back to see his diligently made rice rolls and smiled proudly at the thought of people who would be enjoying his homemade food. The potluck is going to be different today since he is participating. After the death of the family, and a foreign feeling settling in his heart, he wanted to participate, to do something he had never done before. To be kind.

That's when his car jerked ahead, making his forehead slammed against the steering wheel. He groaned, his face turning red. Blood ran down his brows, and he hissed in pain. His phone fell to the floor of the car and he yanked the car door open. People began to honk and at the same time, a speeding motorcycle passed through his car door, showing him the middle finger for stopping at the green light. You walked out in red deep v-neck line knee-length dress, and beige strap on heels, looking very prim and gingerly graceful. "Oh my goodness! I'm so very sorry, my car's timer just jerked ahead, I..." you frantically began to explain and gasped when you see the trail of blood down his chin, "You're bleeding!" You hurried back to your car and grabbed a box of tissue, successfully tearing your body-hugging dress in the process at the thigh, and handed them to him. Seokjin furrowed brows are now a bit relaxed, "..That's fine. I'm a doctor." He said.

"Oh Lord, I have to call the hospital that I'm going to be late but my phone died," you squeezed the heel of your palm and almost sobbing. "Use mine, are you... are you going to the high-community gathering in the hospital nearby? The pot-luck?" He asked as he fetched his phone from the floor of the car and you said yes, immediately. "What a coincidence, I'm working there and is heading to the gathering as well, we should car pool." He kindly suggested. "What about the car?" You asked. "Do you have insurance?" He shot back, scrolling down his phone and dialling his insurance company. "...I'm not sure, I bought it from a friend," you felt your heart sank because of how little you knew about it, eventhough your father is a lawyer. "...That's alright, we both can use mine, they'll get it towed and off the streets, people are starting to get antsy," he bowed to each car passing by and some of the people are snapping picture of him, he must be really famous.

They didn't curse at him, but at you. Telling you to drive better, and that you're blind.

And Seokjin took you to the safe side of the road, collecting his kimbap containers but having trouble to carry both while maintaining a phonecall with the insurance company, "...yes, next to the hospital, just the junction before. There's two car. A Mercedez and an old Ford. Certainly, we'll be here. But we have an appointment to get to, so please hurry," you extended your arm to help him carry one container as he conversed with the staff. You both took a taxi and safely got into the gathering without a scratch. Seokjin had stitches but it wasn't very serious and you went straight to the gathering.

When he got back from the emergency room, he saw his kimbap was barely eaten. The rest of the food that came in the potluck was almost empty. He felt his efforts were going to waste. He took one whole plate of kimbap and took them to the park, to eat alone, away from the crowd. "What's the use of being kind..." he told himself.

"There you are!" He heard a chirpy voice and snapped his head to the direction. "...Where were you when everyone is slicing the cake," you walked towards him and handed him a slice of cake on a plastic plate on top of his two, now-empty containers.

"I saved you one, noticing that you weren't around," you smiled widely at him. "Where's the kimbaps?" He asked, glancing at the empty containers you were holding. "They finished it. They love it very much. They didn't think you could make it, so I said I did, we made it together," you explained, and, "I hope you're single, because they looked confused." Seokjin chewed very slowly, blinking to the floor next to your feet. "I feel very sorry to trouble you today, and I hope I was able to make it up to you and buy you coffee... maybe?" You hesitantly asked, "And also we can talk about the insurance and what I needed to pay, without involving the police? Perhaps, if you'd like..."

In Seokjin's mind, memories of you being cursed at by the roadside and how sorry you looked began to soften his heart. When he saw you carried the containers to aid him, when you brought him a slice of cake, he didn't have the heart to say no. The thought him smile, when he heard himself say, "You think I have the heart to say no?"

The coffee meeting became a date. And he likes it very much. He saw how you spoke to the waitress, so kindly, thanking her. How you both fought to pay the bills. You were so graceful and he was smitten. When the car was fixed, he felt like he was going to lose this acquintance, so he asked you, "...can we be more than this?" The moment you said yes, he felt his heart leaped. And by the moonlight underneath a blossoming sakura tree, you both shared a kiss. And it was the first time, Seokjin felt a kiss that was not rushed and not filled by lust, but by pure love. That's what he thought at the time. He got addicted before long. Your embrace, your words, your kisses, they were something else. Sometimes you were plain and he was surprised how it made him elated to see you in your unglamorous moments. It's like you allowed him and only him to see that you could just be you, comfortable. He is seeing both sides of you: the pristine one and the lazy one. He was amazed by the fact that he didn't mind it at all.

Seokjin was in love. Heavens, he was in love.

Is still... in love.

You took your plate and slide the divorce paper on the table within his reach before leaving the dining table. You strode this spacious bungalow, walked up the same stairs you threw yourself off, and felt free. With the view of the back of his head, you glanced away, feeling a burden uplifted your shoulders although your heartbreaking, pieces of it, scattered on the floor. With every firm step you took further away from Seokjin, you tattled, fooled yourself that you never once had loved him. You didn't know when it happened, but it did.

When did this fake love, became real?

You entered the bedroom, you never shared with him all the while you were married to him and realizes just how much he suffered from your greed, just to prove how wrong your parents were. He was unfortunately in your tunnel vision of revenge.

Because of your selfishness, his life was ruined. Who are you to judge his wrongdoings? Who are you to decide that he was going to pay for his sins?

Yes, he was not a perfect human being. Yes, he did terrible things. Yes, he was a wretched creature with no conscience.

You hated the fact that you did all kinds of things to have the consequences in your favor.

But secretly you thanked Seokjin for being the reason behind Namjoon's called-off wedding.

After the heartbreak you suffered from Namjoon's empty promises, you admit that you went overboard. When you loved someone so much, trusted so much, invested so much, and in return, you received nothing, left behind--it breaks you. It breaks your soul. It burns them to ashes. It made you numb, merciless, a heart of stone.

You had the hotel room card delivered to Namjoon through Seokjin, passed by a waitress. You ensured Namjoon's was caught in the most promiscuous circumstances. You already knew where to touch to have him spinning in pure ecstasy, and the rest was history.

The way he was so responsive to your familiar touches, draws you to do more than what was intended. Your tear-stained face cracked and you smiled grimly against Namjoon's motionless body, lying asleep, face down on the bed. Scratches down his back, hickeys, his trousers around his ankle. Belts on the floor, along with his dress shirt. You twisted his engagement ring and stared at the little circle underneath the night lamp, sitting on the bench the hotel had by the large window.

Playfully, you slide the ring to your ring finger. It was bigger than your slender fingers but it gave you slight happiness. Although short lifted. "You shouldn't hurt me, Namjoon. You said you will love me no matter what, but when I lowered my standards, you left me," you tutted your tongue, and took another sip of hard liquor that does nothing to your sanity.

You had become numb, staring at his messy bed hair, knocked out by the drinks he was forced to take. "...You fucking left me and go to that pediatrician because she fits your standard. Now you'll feel how I feel. And to make matters worse, I'm going to marry your arch enemy, your senior."

You tipped the final drop of alcohol and took Namjoon's phone to send a location to his current fiancee. Before you left, you leave behind a ruined thong that you drenched in water, inside his pocket and a kiss mark on his dimple, along with his engagement ring.

Namjoon's wedding was canceled and you feed on the euphoric sensation you put on yourself. It gave you a high you can never find from anything else.

To know that you've ruined someone's life beyond repair. It excites you.

You thought you’d be happy. Avenging your rights. Hurting someone who hurts you but. You can't feel anything. Nothing at all. But what’s done is done, so you smiled. I don’t have to be happy to smile. I can pretend as much as I can love. This is the right thing to do.

And that's how you convinced yourself. But why does it feel so wrong?

Why are you crying when you’re smiling? Why are you hitting your heart with your own fist? For it to beat again? For you to remember how to love again?

Why are you sad?

The moment you set your bottom to the bed, Seokjin pushed the door open. "Give me one month," he breathlessly says, his eyes fell on your exposed knees and then to your eyes, "Sleep with me. And if I can change your mind, we'll put the divorce behind us and start again..."

You gaze up at him, "What are you saying, are you telling me that you want to be with me? But wh--" Seokjin silenced you with a searing kiss, pushed your whole body down with his own, and took you. Took your everything, the way he had been imagining. He wanted this for so long, the abstinence has made him direly impatient but he took careful and calculated steps with every advances.

"This time, I want all of it. All of you," he thumbed your cheek, his warm breathe fanning against your skin, as he spoke to your lips, "Don't hold it against me."

"Are you going to fuck me?"

"No..." he raspily replied, "...I'm going to make love to you."

Because he believed that you were in love too. He caught a glint in your eyes that suggests that he might have taken over the throne of who used to be there. Although it was brief, he was sure of what he saw. You insisted that you didn't care about him, but there's honesty in your pretense. Truth in your fabricated affections.

You were kind, but a bloke had broke you, beyond fixation.

There was good in Seokjin that you saw, and made clear.

When he breaks down, losing his first patient after many years of successful surgery, when he lost a child brought into the emergency unit, he didn't hesitate to come over to your apartment, seeking comfort. At first, he didn't know how to ask for it, but gradually, you began to understand things he didn't even say out loud. That's what made him ask.

Asked you to marry him.

In the dim lighting of your apartment, with only the moonlight to witness, he asked you in a small whisper, laying fully clothed on your bed, just breathing, he asked, "...will you be my wife?"

His politician father was wary at first, but eventually, Seokjin convinced him that you were incredible. You wanted a small wedding, just the two of you and he complied. Exchanging vows under the visions of heaven, you two were legally married.

He boasted you with his co-workers and his colleague began to notice changes. He was not as repulsive as he was before. He was becoming kind. He was a changed man.

Namjoon walked into his office one day as you were leaving, you exchanged unassuming glances to your ex-lover and Seokjin introduced you both, "Meet Mrs. Kim." You extended your hand to capture Namjoon's and he hesitantly shook your hand. "Nice to meet you," you thinned your eyes at his nametag and smiled brightly, "...Dr. Kim Namjoon."

Namjoon heard his name called very differently in the back of his mind. Breathlessly, raspily, and the way your moan usually sounded so sinful to him, like music to his ear. Maybe the reason he was drawn by the mysterious women that night was because of the familiarity of her advances. Maybe he was not really over her, maybe he was not over you. He lets his standards clouded everything he ever wanted in life that when something threatens to degrades his future, he cuts them off without considering your feelings. Your smile is brighter now that he's gone. He remembers how does hands feel in his, and the laughter that comes from you, how he used to be the only one listening to it. He was terribly obsessed with you, but now he can't be that person anymore. You're someone's wife.

Seokjin is having everything Namjoon could have had. "Congratulations, on your marriage," Namjoon gritted his teeth at the sight of you and Seokjin, clenching his jaws. Seokjin was too happy to realize. "Thank you, you're very kind..." You said, flashing him a teethy grin. "Are you single?" You asked Namjoon and the boy nodded, slowly. "...Don't worry Namjoon, you'll find someone you deserve," Seokjin patted Namjoon's shoulder to comfort him, genuinely. Namjoon gazes up to you and hissed, "Maybe."

The whole ordeal was damaging for both sides. Being with Seokjin made you realise that the essence of marriage should not be casted so low. He said to you, "Don't play someone elses' feelings, just because you're unsure about yours..." How true was that statement. What a chaos a heartbroken girl brought to her life just because she wasn't ready to let go someone who clearly didn't deserve her. How lowly it was for her to place her happiness in the hands of others, how disappointing it was to create such gameplay, just to prove her point... You didn't have to do any of that. But you let your mind overcome your heart that you felt the bleeding in the blood chambers but kept pushing when you knew you should stop. You should have stopped and moved on. But if you did, you wouldn't find Seokjin. And no one would know, how kind Seokjin could be.

He blasted your heart wide open.

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