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i-am-a-bad-influence-writes · 3 years

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She is forever - Part 1

Series Masterlist - Stucky Masterlist - Full Masterlist

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OC, Bucky Barnes x OC (Ophelia Wright)

Summary: When Steve and Bucky went to the army there was a girl they went to school with who wasn’t allowed to go. She was left alone and never thought about again, until Steve sees a carbon copy of her on the streets outside Stark tower and she seems to know them just a little too well to be a stranger.

Word count: 2076

Meanwhile, outside, Ophelia walks with a pace closer to running than walking. Her coat isn’t even closed yet and her scarf is on the verge of blowing off her shoulders. She is in a hurry, getting herself together and calling someone. ‘Hey, we need to talk. I think they know.‘

‘Get inside.‘ ‘Thank you.‘ Ophelia throws off her jacket and scarf, throwing them over a chair at the kitchen table. She went to the one place where she knows she’s safe. This place is Mary and Josh’s house. They are like her. They have seen the world grow, watched wars go by, and seen lovers come and go. They know how important it is to have someone you trust, even if you only get to have them for a little bit. They know how excited Ophelia was when she learned that both Steve and Bucky were still alive and understood that she wanted to be close to them even if she wasn’t able to talk to them for her own safety. Mary and Josh are a nice couple to be around and quite fun to look at. Mary grew up in the Netherlands, aka the tallest country in the world, while Josh grew up in America. Mary is over 1,80m tall while Josh barely reaches 1,75m. And on top of that, Mary likes to wear high heels as part of her “modern“ 50s aesthetic. When the fashion of that time made its break, Mary got obsessed and decided that that was the thing for her. They still live in a house that is heavily inspired by the 50s and Mary still exclusively wears clothes that she sews from patterns made in the 50s while Josh is a suits all day, sweats all night kind of man. They fit each other well. ‘Tell me,‘ Mary speaks as the kettle starts whistling. She goes to make tea for the both of them while Ophelia gets comfortable on top of the dinner table. You have floor people, you have couch people, and then you have table people. People who prefer sitting on a table over anything else. Ophelia is such a person. It frustrates Mary, but she doesn’t bother telling her to get off the table because she won’t. She never does. ‘I made a mistake,‘ Ophelia mutters, head hanging, staring straight at the floor, ‘I saw someone drop something and went to hand it back and it was Steve. I didn’t realize, but I saw in his eyes that he just... he knew.‘ ‘This can’t just be about that,‘ Mary hums, pouring the tea for both her and Ophelia, ‘you wouldn’t be this upset if it was just that.‘ She hands Ophelia the tea and finally meets her eyes. They are red and swollen, like she has been crying. ‘They know where I work now,‘ Ophelia stammers. ‘Wait, they?‘ ‘Tony Stark buys a lot of art from me and because I’m too stupid to change my name every once in a while, he knew who I was when Steve used my name and now both Steve and Bucky know.‘ A tear rolls onto her cheek as her chest starts to shudder. ‘I don’t want to disappear.‘ ‘Oh honey.‘ Mary puts her tea down on the table and wraps her arms around Ophelia to let her cry out. It had been a long time since Mary saw Ophelia cry like this. The last time had been when she first lost Bucky and Steve during the war. She had met Mary in the Dutch army and cried to her when she got the letter that confirmed their deaths. The thought of losing them again is too much for her. Ophelia knows that she has to let them go someday, when they get old. But she heard their stories. They’re not much older than they were before and they could still live a long time. She wanted to watch them life their lives and then she could say goodbye. That’s all she wanted. A proper goodbye. The front door slams closed, a loud thud is heard, and then the sound of shoes being thrown away. ‘I’m home,‘ Josh calls through the house, but his cheery attitude changes as soon as he sees Mary and Ophelia at the kitchen table. He rushes over and puts his hand on Ophelia’s shoulder. ‘What’s wrong honey? Why are you crying?‘ Mary lets Ophelia go and wipes the makeup from under her eyes while Ophelia tries to talk through sobs, but no words come out so she looks at Mary. ‘Bucky and Steve saw and recognized her,‘ Mary explains to her husband. ‘Oh, that’s not good,‘ Josh says without realizing it and hears another fit of sobs come from Ophelia. His eyes shoot back at her as he grabs both her shoulders, leaning down a little so he can look her in the eyes. ‘Hey, hey, hey, look at me sweetheart, look at me. We’ll make it work. We always do. We know how special those men are to you. We’ll figure something out. All of us together.‘

In the common room of the Stark tower, Bucky and Steve sit in front of the coffee table staring at the business card Ophelia gave them. Both of their minds are running. Should they call? Would she know? Are they giving themselve hope? Suddenly, Bucky gets up and walks away leaving Steve to struggle with his thoughts alone. He couldn’t take it anymore. The thought of meeting the Ophelia they grew up with is too painful. Especially because this isn’t her. What if she isn’t exactly like Ophelia? He would only get frustrated at the difference between them because she isn’t going to be how he hoped her to be. It’s unfair to the both of them. Steve has a different ethical situation playing in his mind. Is he obligated to grand a granddaughter stories of her grandmother if her grandmother never told her? Would their Ophelia mind that? She never wanted to be in pictures, what if she just wanted to be forgotten after she died? He’d be better of not telling her, but the granddaughter’s curiosity might change his mind. “This is Ophelia Wright speaking.“ She sounds upset, but Steve won’t mention it. He isn’t in a friendly place with her anyway, so what could he do about it. ‘Ophelia, hi, this is Steve. Steve Rogers.‘ “Oh, hi Steve. What can I do for you?“ ‘I wanted to ask you if we could get some coffee together? I am quite curious about your grandmother’s life.‘

And so Ophelia ends up in a café twiddling her thumbs and waiting for Steve. She didn’t think she’d be this nervous, but to be fair, she’s going to have to perform a whole story that isn’t true. She has to pretend she isn’t herself. Truth be told she has done it a million times, but it’s different when it’s Steve she’s talking to. ‘Ophelia?‘ She looks to her side. ‘Oh, hey Steve, how are you doing?‘ He sits down at the table with her, dressed in a T-shirt and cap, something he would’ve never been seen in back in the day. To be fair, T-shirts weren’t really in style back then. She had opted for a long sleeved, fitted blouse dress with a belt around her waist like she used to wear back then. The emerald one she decided to wear might even be from back then. She didn’t check. She should’ve checked. What if he recognizes it? ‘I’ve been doing fine,‘ he answers with a friendly smile, ‘how about you?‘ ‘I’m good. A bit tired,‘ she admits, ‘I decided to dig through some photo albums for you to see if I could find a picture of my grandmother.‘ She grabs her bag and takes out an envelope. ‘They’re not much, but I found these. I copied them, so you can keep these if you’d like. Maybe James would like to see them as well.‘ Steve takes out the pictures. The first one makes his heart drop. It’s Bucky, Ophelia, and Steve just a day before Bucky was leaving for war. In the picture, Ophelia had made Bucky lift her on top of his car and told the two of them to pose in front of her. When the picture was taken she had taken Steve’s hand to help her off and they had fallen on the ground together, after which she helped him up. All he gained from that day was a kiss on his cheek. ‘Wow, thank you so much. This is amazing,‘ Steve smiles brightly. Ophelia reads the nostalgic look in his face like a book. She knows exactly what he thinks. Those moments were the best they had ever had. The only moments that she had considered taking a picture, even if it would put her in danger. ‘You two look so much alike,‘ he says with tears in his eyes. Ophelia grabs the picture for a second and pretends to study it. ‘Honestly, I don’t see it,‘ she jokes. But her grabbing the top picture reveals the picture below it to Steve. He recognizes it right away. Bucky had taken it when Ophelia had convinced them to go skinny dipping one drunken night. In the picture, she’s on Steve’s back with her arms wrapped around his neck, completely naked. ‘Oh, shoot,‘ Steve mutters and Ophelia sees a blush appear on his cheeks as he quickly flips to the next picture. The picture is even worse and Steve recognizes it right away. It’s the picture Ophelia gave Bucky “to masturbate to“ when he was stuck with other soldiers. Steve had stood right next to them when she gave it to Bucky. He swallows heavily while Ophelia giggles. ‘My grandma was a handful, wasn’t she?‘ ‘I’m sorry, but why would you give me these?‘ ‘Because all of them were in an envelope that had your name on it,‘ Ophelia tells him, ‘I’m guessing she wanted you to have them, but never got around to giving them to you.‘ ‘But what about this one,‘ he shows the last photo to Ophelia, ‘she gave this one to Bucky.‘ ‘Not exactly,‘ Ophelia smiles and pulls the originals out of her bag, ‘I knew you’d ask because of the writing on the back. So this one was for Bucky and this one was for you.‘ She gives him both the pictures to read the writing on the back, pretending like she didn’t write the raunchy text on the back herself. She knows why she did it. She was planning to disappear when Steve and Bucky deployed. She stayed because Steve didn’t get in. If he hadn’t, she would’ve given him his picture and leave to another country that next day. ‘Can I take pictures of the writing?‘

“Dearest Bucky. When the nights get cold and the boys start looking attractive, see this as a tool to keep your sanity and think of home. I’ll still be there when you get back. I promise, Ophelia.“ Bucky reads the text of his old photo of Ophelia out loud to Steve. ‘So what does yours say?‘ “Dearest Steve. I know tenderness is your trademark, but when you give into your vices I hope you’ll think of me. See this as a little push to your corruption. Love, Ophelia.“ Bucky smiles, looking through the pictures Steve had taken with him. ‘You know what strikes me as strange,‘ Bucky says, ‘from the way you talk about this girl, it seems like she knows us better than we know ourselves.‘ ‘She said her parents used to call her an old soul,‘ Steve says as rebuttal. ‘Old soul is one thing, knowing someone you never met is another.‘ ‘What are you suggesting?‘ Steve leans back on the couch looking awfully aware of the delusional suggestion Bucky is about to give, knowing that it will hurt the both of them if they get it in their head. ‘What if she’s like us,‘ he says. ‘What?‘ ‘What if she was frozen too? She used to hang out with us all the time, we know how agile she is and that she has a good set of brains,‘ Bucky rambles, ‘what if they thought they could preserve her for a project as well and just threw her out after messing with her head like they did to me?‘ ‘Bucky, I-‘ ‘But what if.‘ Steve shakes his head. He thought he was getting emotional, but he hasn’t seen Bucky this fired up in years. Ophelia was a great friend to them, but he never imagined she meant this much to Bucky. ‘You’re going to get hurt if you keep thinking like that.‘ ‘I know, but sometimes the world is prettier in my head.‘

#bucky fanfic #bucky fic #bucky #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfic #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfic #captain america #captain america fanfic #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel

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liibrii · 3 years

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In honour of today being National Culture Day in my country and exactly a year since I've seen my favourite band perform live, I've decided to take a minute and talk about Dream Theater. And by talk I mean mostly nerd out about my favourite songs and why I love them so much.

in case you haven’t heard of Dream Theater before, they’re an american progressive metal band, who’s been around since 1985. idk what else to say except even if you don’t like metal/rock give a listen to Beneath the surface.

tw: some pretty heavy topics such as death, murder, mental illness, alcoholism,...

so to start, I love the versatility of their songs and yet they still have that distinct Dream Theater sound. my favourite part of their music are the lyrics. a lot of them are inspired by their own personal experience, which often makes them just the more heart breaking. and for others, I don't know what creator juice these guys are on but I'd like some. they’re the kind of lyrics you want to read while listening to the music just to really get the meaning, and you spend days thinking about them. or maybe that’s just me. :D

also Petrucci's guitar skills are outta this world, which sadly often overshadows others who are also incredible musicians. I have a soft spot the singer LaBrie cause 1. his voice and singing are magnificent, and 2. he damaged his voice pretty badly but perservered even when critics weren’t very nice to his singing and I respect that.

I'll start with my favourite album (and the one I heard live) - Metropolis Pt. 2: scenes from a Memory. it's a concept album, which if you don't know is an album that has a single central narrative (can be lyrics, musical theme,...). in this case it tells a story of Nicholas, a man who keeps having dreams about a girl named Victoria, and how through hypnotic therapy he discovered he was her in the previous life. Victoria was murdered and her death never solved, so we follow him as he discovers the truth behind her death. I won't spoil it, in case you're curious but don't wanna read the lyrics you can find a synopsis here. I'll just say the story of this album is better than majority of movies.

If you put a gun to my head and made me choose my favourite song on this album it would be the very last one: Finally Free. it's charged with so much emotion, the way LaBrie sings the lyrics; you can tell which part belongs to which character, it's just soooo good! The way each repeats the lines This feeling / Inside me / I finally found my love (life) / I've finally broke free - and I'd go on but I'd get into spoiler territory. so. let's move on with the closing melody (it's not much of a melody, more like static) that becomes the opening of the first song on their next album Six Degrees of Inner Turbulence.

Six Degrees of Inner Turbulence is another concept album. this album. man, how do I even begin to explain it? I can't, you gotta listen to it. have you ever imagined an entire album telling stories of people living with things like alcoholism, post-partum depression, autism, schizophrenia? it may sound intimidating and I won't lie, some songs touch you so deeply it's hard to listen to them (looking at you Goodnight kiss).

and now that my fave albums are outta the way let's talk about my favourite songs in no particular order! (just a note, pretty much everything I’ll say about the lyrics is my personal interpretation)

Beneath the Surface (album: A dramatic turn of Events) - the one that makes me cry like a baby. the one I tefuse to shut up about. the story of two people who are in love, neither aware the other feels the same, both too scared to make a move till it’s to late and their feelings fade. just, listen to it, please. it’s also the least ‘metal’ of their songs, if that’s not the kind of music you’re fond of.

Spirit carries on (album: Metropolis Pt. 2: Scenes from a memory): I can’t say much about it without spoiling the story of the album, so let’s say it was experience of a lifetime singing this song on the concert, off key and out of tune, with your bestfriends beside you, all of you crying. 10/10 experience.

Through her eyes (album: Metropolis Pt. 2: Scenes from a memory) - same as Spirit carries on :D

Finally free (album: Metropolis Pt. 2: Scenes from a memory) - the emotion!! I want to sing this song at the top of my lungs while it makes tears pour down my face. it’s such a good final song to this absolutely brilliant album.

Pull me Under (album: Images and Words) - when that LaBrie voice hits... if you’ve ever heard this song you know what I mean, and if you are yet too, you’ll know which part I mean. you’ll hear it, trust me. (it’s at 2:54)

Vacant (album: Train of thought): ah look, another song that makes me cry. LaBrie wrote this after his daughter fell into coma for 3 hours when she was 7, and let me tell you, you can feel the fear. easily one of their most heart breaking songs. but she’s okay now, don’t worry. :)

Stream of Consciousness (album: Train of Thought) - an instrumental song with guys just flexing their skills.

Wither (album: Black Clouds & Silver Linings) - the story behind this song is Petrucci had trouble coming up with new lyrics so this mad-lad pulled a UNO reverse card and wrote a song on having trouble creating. and as a writer who often hits writer’s block I relate to that.

Count of Tuscany (album: Black Clouds & Silver Linings) - the story of this song could easily be a movie. you meet a young count on your travels and he takes you to his home where his slightly eccentric brother lives, and before you know you’re terrified for your life. I have yet to hear a song that captures the fear of dying as well as this one. 20 minutes of pure bliss and singing at the top of your lungs.

Out of Reach (album: Distance over Time) - you know that feeling of falling for someone who’s out of reach? yeah, that.

Fall into the light (album: Distance over Time) - the line Too much love is not enough for us makes me question what is really important in life and I love it when songs make me think. it’s such a simple line and yet so powerful. (spare some of the creator juice?)

Ministry of Lost Souls (album: Systematic Chaos) - you thought we were done with songs that make me cry? ha, think again! this is the song that sold me on Dream Theater. the lyrics have 2 different interpretations, both of which are heart breaking and thus I won’t talk about them. :)

Prophets of War (album: Systematic Chaos) - I’m not saying it’s about the possible ulterior motives of the Iraq war buuuut... oh no, wait that’s exactly what the song is about.

Endless sacrifice (album: Train of Thought) - just a song about how relationships take work and compromising, especially when one is a musician and often on tours. Petrucci wrote this song for his wife. get you a man who recognises how much you’ve sacrificed to make the relationship work.

Build me up, break me down (album: A dramatic turn of events) - I have no other reason for liking this song other than it is an absolute banger.

Panic Attack (album: Octavarium) - this song includes my favourite singing from LaBrie. goosebumps every time. and also the suffocating feeling of pure panic, the paralysis you feel are so well reflected in the music it’s unreal.

Octavarium (album: Octavarium) - this song has my fave line: It's wonderful to know that I could be / Something more than what I dreamed. and it also takes the award of “Lyrics whose meaning I’ve been trying to figure out for years and still have no clue“. and the orchestral parts of this song... I hope to get a chance to hear it live one day.

I was debating putting some of my favourite lyrics here but I think this post is already long enough. :)

in conclusion, I love Dream Theater and I hope they keep making music!! ♡

#dream theater #libri speaks #I just wanted to get this outta my system #things you didn't ask for #might edit/update later

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parkkjiminssi · 6 years

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Forever.

one shot.

Halloween Special

pairing: Jin x Reader

genre: fluff, angst (if you squint)

warnings: mentions of death, a bit of profanity

a/n: well I’m back with another story! This is the first part of a Halloween Special I have prepared for you guys, I hope you all like it 😬. Idek why I named this a Halloween special if it isn’t even scary at all 😅 this might sound familiar to you if you’ve watched the KDrama “Goblin”, I got some ideas from there. I know I still have some requests to do, so please don’t think I’ve forgotten about them! It’s just I’m working on them whenever I get a break from work and school. Well anywayyyysss, I’ll let you guys go now. See you on the next one!

How long has it been since you’ve been doing this? A hundred? Two hundred years? To be quite honest, you had stopped counting.

You pulled out a card out of your pocket, a name with red letters imprinted on it. “Woo Shin.” You mumbled to yourself as you stood on the sidewalk, observing the man who had ignored the ‘do not cross’ sign. You tightened your black coat around you as you heard a loud bang. A car had just ran into the man. The driver quickly got down his vehicle and examined the person he had just collided into. People started to gather around. Some wanting to help, others just to be nosey. On the other side of the side walk you spotted a man that looked startled, not fully grasping what had happened. You slowly started to walk across the street, your heels clicking with each step you took.

“Woo Shin.” You called to the man. Mr. Shin turned to look at you, his eyes pleading. Hoping you’d make some sense of this situation. Hoping you’d know why he was thrown on the floor bleeding but yet he was also unharmed on the sidewalk. “24. Born on the 20th of October in 1993. Died at 11:38AM, October 17, 2018. Cause of death: car collision.” You took a step closer, your eyes locking with him in an attempt to calm him down. “That’s you, right?”

“Ten minutes till we start, guys. Let’s start wrapping up everything.” The manager called to the boys. The members of BTS allowed their stylists to apply the final touches to their outfits, make up and hair before they started to line up to go onto the stage. They were in the middle of their promotions and this was one of fan meets they had planned to hold. The ten minutes passed and the boys made their way onto the stage to greet their fans. They did their usual thing, everything went by smoothly. They signed albums, received presents, talked with the ARMY and so on. Before they knew it, it was all over. Another successful event, one would say.

“It’s always great to see ARMY!” Hobi exclaimed as they walked into the dressing room.

“I agree. They always show us so much love and support! I only wish to do the same for them.” Jin added.

The rest of the boys joined in. Talking about how much they loved ARMY and how they had lots of fun today. After five minutes or so, their manager came into the room and informed them that they had the rest of the day off. They immediately started thinking of ways they could spend the day. Yoongi wanted to stay in the apartment and work on some songs. Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook decides to go to a nearby mall and buy clothes, saying they didn’t have anything to wear. As if their closets weren’t already topped to the max. Namjoon said he wanted to take his dog out for a walk and Hoseok decided to tag along and take his. Jin just wanted to go buy a cup of coffee at a nearby coffee shop he’d been eyeing for a while. Once changed out of the fan meet’s outfits, the boys said their goodbyes and headed to their destinations. Jin typed in the name of the coffee shop into the navigation system on his phone. Within a few seconds, the application told him he was only ten minutes away. “Alright, lets go.”

You sat on the counter awaiting for the barista to call your name. Well... it wasn’t really your name. You didn’t have a name and it’s not like you could just say ‘Oh yeah, put it under the Grim Reaper’. Each time you had a different one. Alice, Laila, Katie and on and on. Today you were Y/N. You were trying to kill time, ha kill time, before the next card came in. Today was particularly slow. Not that you were complaining or wished for more people to pass away, it’s just that you preferred the days where you had lots to do that way you wouldn’t be having nonsense thoughts while starring at the living.

“Y/N! Ms. Y/N!”

At first you didn’t react, but the constant calling of the name reminded you that your drink was ready and it was you whom they were calling for. You quickly stood up and walked over to the counter, you apologized many times before grabbing the drink and turning around. You walked away while looking down, not paying much attention to your surroundings and just as you were about to reach the exit you bumped into someone, causing the hot liquid to spill on your white shirt. You felt the coffee burn the skin on your stomach, causing you to wince in pain. You’d think that being the Grim Reaper and all you’d be immune to this. Although you were immortal, you still had human emotions and needs. Part of your punishment you’d like to think.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” You heard a male voice. He quickly reached over to a nearby table and grabbed a couple of napkins. He handed them to you still muttering apologies.

“Ah no, it’s okay!” You said as you took the napkins from him. Your cold fingers touching his warm ones, causing you to slightly flinch. “It’s my fault for not looking to where I was going. It’s a bad habit I have.”

When you looked up, you felt a strange pain in your chest. If you had a beating heart, you could’ve sworn that it would’ve stopped at that exact moment. Perhaps the right word to describe him would be breathtakingly beautiful, because that’s exactly what had happened. You had forgotten to breathe until his hand waving in front of your face brought you back to your senses.

“I’m sorry, d-did you say something?”

“I asked if you were okay. I’m sure that coffee must’ve been scalding hot. If it’s okay with you, we can go to the hospital so they can take a look at you.” He repeated, a kind smile adorning his face.

You quickly waved your hand in dismissal. “No! That’s not necessary, I promise I’m okay.” If only he knew that things like these didn’t face you the way it would face a living human. Yeah it hurt like hell, but after a couple of hours the wound would disappear. “It’s really nothing.”

“Then at least let me compensate you for the shirt I just ruined.” He kept on insisting. “It looks expensive.”

At that, you looked down at your now coffee-stained shirt. To be honest, it was kind of expensive but after centuries of collecting offerings, money wasn’t really something that you concerned yourself with. “Ah, it’s fine really.”

“Nonsense!” He quickly protested and walked over to the counter where a barista was standing and asked for something. When he came back, he grabbed a napkin and started jotting down something. “Here!” He said extending it over to you, urging you to take it. “Just give me a call or text with the shirt price and I’ll make sure to reimburse you for it. That’s my cellphone number, so don’t be shy and please contact me.”

You examined the paper. “Jin?” You asked, looking at the napkin and it’s contents like something out of this world.

“Yup, that’s me!” He replied with a beaming smile. Jin then looked at the watch on his wrist and you saw that his eyes widened in surprise. “I’m sorry, I kind of have to go but please make sure to contact me. Don’t leave me feeling guilty for too long!”

And with that he was gone. Jin had been like a spring breeze of air that was so refreshing and new. You haven’t really had many experiences with mortals before so maybe this was one of the reasons why you were feeling like this, but you also knew that it was something other than that. It would be that fateful meeting with Jin that it would set in motion something that neither you or him were prepared for. Something dangerous and beautiful altogether. Something that would change both of your lives.

“Wait,” You whispered to yourself, finally looking up from the napkin. “what is a cellphone?”

Jin sped through the streets, having forgotten that he had made plans with his family to go out for dinner. He hadn’t gotten too far from the cafe when a thought popped into his head. He hadn’t asked for your name and that bothered him in a way he couldn’t explain. He only hoped that you’d end up contacting him after all. Although from the way you were behaving it left him with little to no hope.

When you got home later that day you researched on your laptop what a cellphone was. After your investigation, you couldn’t believe that you had a computer but not a cellphone but then again, you never really needed one. The laptop you did, for work purposes. The way it worked was still a mystery to you. The next day you went out to the store and bought one. There were so many options and so many things the store associate was telling you that they did, that you couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by all of it. Regardless, you choose the phone which you thought was best and got it over with. As soon as you got back to your place, you saved Jin’s phone number after a thousand tries and many google searches.

A week passed but you still hadn’t contacted him. Every time you were about to click on the call or text message icon you quickly talked yourself out of it and threw your phone across the room. “You’re the Grim Reaper but you’re scared of making a single phone call? How pathetic.”

One day, you being the intellectual that you are, pressed the call button by accident during your daily debate whether to contact him or not. You started panicking the moment you saw and heard the dial tone. You paced back and forth with the phone in hand, your index finger making little dances above the ‘end call’ button. Before you could do anything, the line connected and you heard his voice.

“Hello?” He asked but you were too shocked to mutter out a response. “Hello? Is this a spam call?”

You let out a shaky breath before you finally spoke. “Hello? Um, this is...” ‘Quickly! Think of a name, think of something!’ Your mind quickly went back to that day and decided to go with the name you had given the barista when you two met. “Y/N. We bumped into each other the other day at a coffee shop.”

“Ohhh, hello!” You beard him say excitedly. “I was starting to worry that maybe you weren’t going to contact me after all. I told you not to make me feel guilty for too long. So your name was Y/N, huh? That’s a nice name.”

“I-I’m sorry, that wasn’t my intention.” You quickly apologized, you had no idea that he was actually joking with you. “I also called you to let you know that I don’t need any compensation. It really was an accident and to be completely honest, it was mostly my fault.” ‘Good save!’

“A-ah, no it’s okay.” You could tell that your response had taken him by surprise. “Are you sure, Y/N?”

“I’m sure, please don’t worry about it no more.” You insisted.

“Well alright, if you insist.” Jin finally surrendered. With that your conversation pretty much died and you didn’t know what to do in these type of situations. “So...” Jin decided to break the silence. “What type of work do you do?”

You quickly hanged up the phone. After a couple of seconds, you realized what you had done but panic had overcome you and this was just an immediate body response. You couldn’t tell Jin you were a Grim Reaper. A loud ding interrupted your thoughts. “Text message?” You read confused as you unlocked the phone as instructed by the screen.

Hey, Y/N. I think the call failed or something. I’ve been having bad reception these days, so I think it was that. Anyways, I was wondering if maybe you’d be up to for coffee? I want to make it up for the one that I spilled. I know, I know. You don’t want any type of compensation, but come on it’s coffee!

You wondered how to answer to his text. Damn this world and it’s technology! What happened to hand-written letters? However, you finally noticed that on top of your keyboard there were responses typed out like: “yes”, “okay”, “no”, to name a few. You opted for the “okay” and waited. Within a few minutes you received Jin’s reply, stating the place and the time of your meet up. You couldn’t help but smile at your phone.

Seokjin was very excited. He just couldn’t wait to see you once again. Weird, huh? Considering that he had only seen you once, and for a couple of minutes only. There just was something about you that seemed to pull him in, that left him wanting to know you better and be with you. However, he quickly jumped off his bed and headed for Namjoon’s room. Jin knocked on the door twice and waited.

“Come in!” The leader of BTS called.

Jin slowly opened the door but didn’t step into the room. He only wanted to confirm something. “Hey Namjoon, sorry for bothering you so late. I just wanted to ask if we had anything planned for tomorrow? You know, like meetings or recordings?”

Joon looked away from the book he was reading and reached for his phone. After a couple of minutes, he shook his head and turned to face the raven haired male by his door. “In the morning we have practice. We’re learning a new choreography but other than that it seems like the rest of the evening is free.”

Jin let out a sigh of relief. Before Namjoon could say anything Jin started closing the door. “Thank you! I’ll let you go now, goodnight!”

RM let out a chuckle. He wanted to ask Jin about his plans for tomorrow, although he could take a good guess at what they were.

You looked at your wrist watch and smiled to see that you were doing good with time. Today you weren’t wearing you usual black attire, instead you were wearing a pair of jeans with some black boots, a gray sweater and a pink coat. Pink was Jin’s favorite color, you had come to learn this during one of your past meet ups. At first, you had developed this habit of standing up and running away every time he asked you something personal, something a mortal would do. Like your last name or the type of job you’d do. As soon as he would sprung a question like that, you’d excuse yourself and say you had something to do, but end up calling him the following day to meet and give an answer to his question. It wasn’t until you were about to leave once again, that Seokjin grabbed your hand and told you that it was okay. That you didn’t have to share anything personal if you didn’t wanted to and that he’d wait until you were ready, but... there wasn’t really anything you could say. From there, you guys took off. You started wearing more lively clothes and putting lipstick instead of lip balm. Jin told you that he was an idol and that his group was named BTS. He was the oldest of the seven members and he likes to cook. He owns two sugar gliders named Odeng and Eomuk, with whom he plays with each time he gets. You liked the way his hair would be all over the place because he was running late to meet with you, but you didn’t mind because after a google research and many YouTube videos, you knew how demanding his job was. Or the way his lips pout slowly while he’s talking, or the way he always made you laugh with his great jokes. Oh boy! You hadn’t laughed so much in your four hundred years of being a Grim Reaper. You knew this wasn’t right, that there was no chance that the two of you could ever be anything more than friends but it was already too late. These feeling had already made its way into your heart and planted themselves there, only for them to grow more and more each time you saw Jin. Things had already been set in motion and there was nowhere to go but forward.

“Man, I’m running late again!” Jin exclaimed as he turned the corner. One of his practices had ran longer than intended to, which delayed his plans with you. He wanted to take you out this time to a proper date. Dinner and maybe some ice cream, no more coffee and cookies but by the look of things, maybe it wasn’t going to happen after all. He knew he wasn’t the only one that felt this way, he wasn’t the only one with feelings. Seokjin wanted more than a simple friendship. How long has it been that you knew each other already? Five, six months? Was he being greedy? Jin quickly shook his head, dismissing those thoughts. Once the coffee shop started coming into view, he stopped and started walking. He tried to regain his composure, trying to make it seem like he wasn’t running just a few seconds ago. When he saw you, he felt like his heart skipped a beat. You weren’t wearing black as usual, not that he minded it, but seeing you in something different only made him fall harder. As he walked through the doors, you quickly noticed his presence and waved with a smile. That smile that Jin wanted to protect, to cherish. He quickly made his way over to you and took a seat on the chair across from you. “I’m sorry for running late, again. Things just came up.” Jin said while brushing the back of his head embarrassed.

You quickly shook your head. “Oh, no! Don’t worry about it, I totally understand. It’s part of your job after all.”

“Thank you for understanding.” He said gratefully. “But still, I wanted to do something nice for you today.”

“Jin, you do something nice for me every time we see each other.”

“And what is that?” He asked, trying to recall of he really had.

“You being with me.”

Jin’s head immediately snapped up. His eyes widened and his heart beat quickened. He couldn’t believe how lucky he had gotten for meeting you. “I’m so grateful I spilled that coffee on you back then. You know what, screw it! Let’s go do something!” He quickly stood up from the chair and urged you to follow. You couldn’t help but wonder what he meant by that, but dismissed it. You were just happy that Jin was back to his usual, happy self.

That night Jin and you did so, so many things. First, he took you to watch a movie, a horror one. You found it cute how Jin tried to act all tough saying things like ‘if you get scared tell me and we can take off’, but ended up being the one that got scared instead. Then he took you to eat fish cakes on a stand and not to be dramatic or anything, but these were easily the best fish cakes you had eaten in centuries. Then he took you to the arcade and karaoke! Wow, his voice was so beautiful. It was like listening to angels sing but better, much much better! Just when you thought you were going to call it a night, he stopped by a flower shop that was weirdly still open at late hours of the night.

“Here, for you.” Jin said once he was back, handing the flowers over to you.

“F-for me?” This took you completely by surprise. You had never been given flowers before. To you, flowers meant that someone had passed away. However, tonight Jin have them a whole new meaning. You extended your hands to grab the bouquet but before you could get your hands on it, someone swatted them to the floor. Causing for the beautiful flowers to fall apart.

“What the hell was that?” Jin asked. You could tell he was fuming by the tone of his voice. When the two of you turned to the direction where the hand had come from, you noticed a group of four men.

“Aw, sorry. Did we interrupt you little date?” One of the me asked in a mocking manner.

Jin only ignored them, grabbing you by the hand and started to walk in the opposite direction of them. Suddenly you felt someone grabbing you by your other wrist, pulling you away from Jin. You hand lost a hold of his. You knew these men meant trouble, you wanted to put them in their place but you couldn’t. Jin was here and if you used your powers he would never see you the same way again. He quickly turned around, fear eminent in his eyes.

“We were talking to you!” The same man exclaimed. With a swift movement he threw you into the arms of another man and started walking towards Jin. You tried to struggle in the most mortal way possible.

“Let her go!” Jin hissed trying to walk around the man but before he could get closer to you, a fist landed on his face. The strength of it was so much that it made Jin fall to the floor, his lip busted.

“Stop! Leave him alone!” You pleaded, but of course it was no use.

“What’s wrong?” The man who had his hold on you spoke. “You don’t want to have a good time with us?”

“I said, let her go!” Jin exclaimed, trying once again to make his way over to you. “What do you guys want? Money? I can give it to you, just don’t hurt her!”

Your chest started hurting. It hurt to see him like this when you knew that you could easily take these punks. Your eyes started swelling up in tears, hating the fact that you were being so selfish just to protect your identity. You should be protecting the man that you love. ‘Wait, do I love Jin?’

Before you had time to answer that question, three of the men launched at him. Landing punches on his face and body, leaving him no chance to retaliate. Blood started coming out of his wounds. Even though he was being beaten to a pulp, Jin wouldn’t stop mumbling the words ‘let her go, please.’ Your blood started boiling, you couldn’t let this go on anymore. You didn’t care if Jin found out who you were. As long as he was safe, that’s all that mattered. With your right hand, you reached over and started peeling the man’s hand off you. The man started panicking, for he had never seen a woman with such strength. Once you had finally gotten him off you, with one swift movement you sent him flying again a wall, knocking him unconscious. At the thudding sound, the three men turned to look in your direction. They couldn’t understand how one of their henchmen had landed all the way over to that wall. There was nobody else in sight and you looked too delicate to do such a thing. What a mistake. You charged at them. The men only started laughing but when you threw the first punch and sent one of them flying, their blood drained completely out of their face.

“What the fuck are you?” One of them said, taking out some brass knuckles and putting them on. The other took out a knife and got into position. They were waiting for you to make the first move, they were also scared. You slowly walked up to them and they slowly backed away, trying to keep the distance.

“What bad manners the two of you have.” You said as you kept on walking. The man with the brass knuckles took a swing at you but you only swatted then away, making them fly off his hands. You then took his hand and twisted it behind his back, causing him to scream in pain. You turned him around and threw him against the wall that you had thrown the first man to. The one holding the knife threw it away and threw himself on his knees, begging to be spared. You only rolled your eyes. “Go sit with your other buddies over there, don’t you dare move.”

“Y/N.” Jin whispered. He was witnessing everything but he wasn’t sure if he was seeing things due to the state he was in or if you really had taken down four thugs all by yourself. Before he could say anything more, Jin passed out. Meanwhile, you were dragging the last man over to where the other three were. Once they were all together and had regained some sort of consciousness again, you squatted down and started bending all sorts of metals on top of them. Trapping them in a little cage.

“Look me in the eye.” You started saying. “The four of you tried bothering that young man and ended up getting beaten the crap out of you.” You said as you pointed over to where Jin was laying. “You will not be found right away but you will not also die. In two days time, you’ll be found by the authorities and be taken to prison for your constant suppression on this neighborhood.” The four men stared blankly for a moment, taking in your instructions. This was one of your other powers as a Grim Reaper, you could erase memories and replace them with new ones. Although you only used it when you were doing some sort of work, there were time where it deemed necessary. Just like tonight. Once you were done with them, you quickly rushed over to Jin’s side. He was unconscious and there were bruises already forming on his face, so you quickly picked him up and teleported the both of you to your apartment. You walked over to your bedroom and placed him carefully on the bed. Without a second thought, you started hovering you hands on top of him injured body. His wounds slowly disappearing with each passing second. A tear started forming in the corner of your eye. You couldn’t stop blaming yourself for what had happened. If only you would’ve acted sooner, then Jin wouldn’t have had to go through that.

“I’m sorry, Jin. I’m sorry for everything.” You said in between sobs. “I hope you can forgive me.”

The sunlight flashing on his face, awoke Jin from his slumber. As he sat up, he noticed that he wasn’t in his bedroom. Suddenly, the events from last night came rushing to his mind. However, no pain or soreness overcame his body. He touched his face and there was no lumps and cuts on it. ‘Was it only just a dream?’ He was about to get up from the bed, when he noticed your face laying on the edge of the bed. You must’ve spent the night sleeping in that uncomfortable sitting position on the cold floor. He felt so guilty for taking your bed, so he stood and tried scooping you into his arms to lay you down on your bed. However, the moment you felt someone trying to lift you up, you immediately pushed them away. You had forgotten Jin had spent the night.

“Ow!” You heard him complain, just after he had hit one of your room walls. “So last night did happen! I was actually beaten up but why am I not injured?”

You took a deep breath as you took a seat on your bed and patted the spot next to you, so he could join you. Once he did, you started explaining to him everything that happened last night. Then everything about who you were and what you did. ‘Might as well just be honest once and for all.’ You thought. As you talked, you tried to examine Jin’s face, to try and see what he was feeling but his face was blank. You couldn’t read it at all and that scared you. After what seemed forever, you finally finished talking. A deep silence permeated the room.

“So how old are you?” Jin asked. Random ass question with all things considered.

��Wow, my mom is not going to approve of this relationship if we tell her your real age.” He started saying while scratching his head. “But if we tell her you’re my age then that’s completely fine! You don’t look a day older than twen—“

Your giggles interrupted him, that then turned into laughs. You couldn’t believe it. You had just told Jin that you were The Grim Reaper and he was worried whether or not his mom would approve? This boy surely was something else.

“What’s so funny?” He asked skeptically.

“It’s just... aren’t you scared of me? Or mad that I’ve lied to you?”

“Were the way you feeling while you were with me a lie?” He asked.

“No, they were not.” You said looking down.

“Then that’s all that matters.” Jin said wrapping his arms around you. “I do have to admit that I never thought something like this would happen to me, but I don’t regret meeting you at all. The attraction I felt towards you since the moment we met was something I could never understand, but perhaps it was destiny who had it all planned out. For us to meet, I mean. From there my feelings just started growing more and more, until I had completely fallen for you. I love you, Y/N. Do you love me?”

You looked up to meet his eyes. How could you not love him? He was the most amazing person in the whole world. So caring, so understanding, so perfect. “Of course I love yo—“

Jin interrupted you with a kiss, taking you completely by surprise. You felt his warm hand coup the side of your face, causing you to give in. To his kiss, to his touch. A few seconds passed and the two of you finally pulled away. “I’m sorry.” Jin said. “I couldn’t help myself.”

“A-ah no,” You replied while looking away. “its okay. I liked it.”

“Oh, really? Then you won’t mind if I do it again?” He teased and before you could say anything, his lips were again against yours.

“Now,” He said as he pulled away again. “isn’t there something you can do to make me immortal too? Forever sounds amazing, if I get to spend it with you.”

“Jin... I’m the Grim Reaper not a vampire.” You said with a chuckle. “But leave it to me, I’ll see what I can do.” Because even if you wouldn’t admit it right there and then, forever with him seemed just perfect.

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xofanfics · 7 years

Text

Regret - Part 3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Genre: angst, fluff, slight smut

Pairing: Johnny x Reader, Taeyong x Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Summary: *REQUESTED* You find out that your boyfriend has been cheating on you and you leave him. Almost a year later, he realizes that he hasn’t quite gotten over you and he tries to get you back.

You ended up calling Taeyong a few weeks later. As soon as the line began to ring, you wanted to hang up. What if he forgot all about you? What if he didn’t even remember your name? More importantly, what if he was already seeing someone? Maybe you should’ve texted him first, you thought, as it continued to ring in your ear.

Just as you were about to hang up, he answered. His deep voice filled your ears. “Hello?”

“Hey,” you said. “I, um…”

You heard him chuckle on the other end. “I was wondering if you’d call.”

“You...remember me?”

“Of course. To be honest, you’re the most interesting woman I’ve met in a long time. I wouldn’t forget you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah...So, I take it that you’re feeling better about your ex and all?”

“Yeah. I think I can move on. It’s almost been two months. I don’t want to be that pathetic…”

“It’s not pathetic,” he said. “It’s your feelings…”

“You’re so understanding.”

There was a short pause before he asked, “Are you busy on Saturday afternoon?”

“I didn’t have anything planned for then.”

“Do you want to have lunch with me? We can have lunch and see a movie...What do you say?”

You smiled, even though he couldn’t see you. “I say yes.”

And you were happy. You were happy that you met Taeyong and decided to call him. Being with him made you forget about Johnny. Though he had been a huge part of your life, you were slowly beginning to care less and less about him. Taeyong was an amazing man. He was honest with you, always. He listened to you and he cared about your feelings. He didn’t get bored of you like Johnny had. And, honestly, even if he did get bored of you, he wouldn’t lead you on day after day. But it was partially your fault. You held onto the relationship even though you knew, deep down, that it wasn’t going anywhere. You held on selfishly because you didn’t want to be alone. You selfishly held on even though you could see in his face that he wasn’t particularly happy. Spending time with you had become a chore, a burden. Because you clung to him, you got your heart broken.

But things were better now. You had Taeyong and you wouldn’t trade him for anything. You were happy. Taeyong made you happy. You saw him when you could, even if it was just for a little while. The two of you had busy schedules, with work and all, but you made it work. Sometimes he stayed nights with you and sometimes you stayed nights with him at his apartment, which worked out because it was a little closer to your job. His workplace was close to yours so you often got lunch together if you didn’t go with your team members. And sometimes if you were working late, he’d bring you food. And you’d do the same for him.

You’d been together for a year now. It wasn’t perfect, but it was good. It wasn’t one of those relationships where there weren’t any problems. There were small things. Typically it had to do with miscommunication. But other times, it was because you forgot to clean up something you’d used. Taeyong was a neat freak. You weren’t a slob but you didn’t spray down the whole house with Febreze every time you got the chance. Whenever you finished a drink, Taeyong would already be washing it before you could even decide whether you wanted a refill.

You were happier than you had been in all those years you spent with Johnny. You thought about him on the occasion, wondering how he was and what he was doing. But you weren’t all that curious. You had deleted him on all social media and deleted all the pictures you’d taken with him, eventually replacing them with cute selfies of you and Taeyong. You had even deleted his number. And he hadn’t tried to contact you again, either. That hurt, at first, but now you had come to terms with it. If he had wanted you, if he was sorry, he definitely would’ve said something. A whole year later, he definitely could’ve spoken up by now.

You wondered if he knew that you had moved on. And you wondered if he was still seeing Mi Rae or if that had been something temporary, only to last a little while. You shook the thoughts out of your head. Johnny didn’t matter. Not anymore.

A knock on your door removed you from your thoughts. You knew that it was Taeyong. He said that he was coming over tonight, so you’d been expecting him. When you opened the door, you were surprised to find that he had a suitcase behind him.

You raised your eyebrows. “What did you bring a suitcase for? You have some clothes here.”

He didn’t say anything. He just smiled at you, pulling something out of his coat. He pulled out two airplane tickets and handed them to you with a wide grin. Your lips parted when you realized that they were two tickets to Jeju Island for the weekend. You wrapped your arms around him.

“It’s our year anniversary,” he said, holding on to you. “I wanted to do something special for you. You could use a break, babe.”

“Thank you so much, Taeyong. I don’t even know what to say. My gift is nothing compared to this…”

He pulled away from you, shaking his head. “Don’t worry about it. I just wanted to do this so that we can enjoy a weekend together.” He held you by your shoulders. “And our flight is in just a few hours, so you should pack. I’ll help you.”

You’d never been to Jeju island before. You’d seen pictures and heard stories but now you were finally going to experience it for yourself and with the man that you loved so much. You weren’t sure what to do, so you put together a photo album, holding many of the pictures you took together over the years, all the birthday cards and notes that you left each other. You were creative, so you thought that that would be a good idea. But Taeyong’s gift topped your gift, by far. You knew that he would probably ignore you if you mentioned anything asking about how much it cost him, so you didn’t try. Plane tickets to go somewhere were expensive. And hotels were expensive, too. Beyond that, living in Seoul was expensive. He made enough money to support himself, obviously, but he wasn’t exactly the Chief Executive Officer of his company.

The flight went quickly. It was less than two hours and Taeyong spent most of it asleep, after claiming that he wasn’t tired. You knew he was, though. He was a hard worker, always taking care of others before himself and sacrificing sleep because of it. So you let him sleep, occasionally glancing over at him with a smile. His eyes were shut, his lips slightly parted. He leaned against the window, his head at an angle. So you closed your eyes and leaned on his shoulder while you read a book.

And he was startled as the plane hit the runway with a thud. His eyes shot open, taken aback by the abrupt landing that you just experienced.

“Had a nice nap?”

He nodded. “I needed that…”

“I know…”

He smiled and kissed you on the forehead before he stretched out his limbs.

The hotel that your boyfriend had booked was close to the water. The room didn’t have the greatest view.

“I booked this place kind of last minute,” he explained.

You shook your head, looking out of the balcony window. You could see a little bit of the ocean, you realized if you stuck your head out far enough. “This is perfect, even without a view of the water.”

And he smiled, grateful that he didn’t have a girlfriend that was materialistic and snobby. That was one of the things that he found so attractive about you. He’d come across so many women who had treated him badly and he was grateful that you had decided to call him that day. He’d begun to lose hope, figuring that you probably wouldn’t call. But you did. And he was grateful for it.

The hotel room was small but cozy, complete with a double sized bed with white sheets and pillows, a television, a small table and chairs, as well as an armchair, placed in the corner. You weren’t going to complain about anything when he took the time to plan a special trip for the two of you.

“Are you hungry?” You nodded. It was around the time that you normally ate dinner, seven thirty. He pulled his phone from his pocket and began to scroll. “In the cab I was thinking about it, so I looked up a few restaurants. What do you want to eat? Shall we eat seafood? I know you really like it.”

“Is there any place with seafood soups?”

He nodded. “How about seafood ramen? We can eat that.”

You said, “Sounds good.” And he planted a kiss on your lips before leading you out of the door.

He said, “It’s in walking distance. Do you want to take a walk?”

You reached out for his hand and he took it, his hand warm in yours. He led you out of the hotel and onto the busy streets of Jeju. The sun was beginning to set, painting the sky a combination of orange, pink, and purple colors. The two of you walked in silence, fingers intertwined, occasionally glancing at each other and smiling.

You arrived at the restaurant around fifteen minutes later. Thankfully, it wasn’t too crowded and you didn’t have to wait more than twenty minutes to get a table. You sat down at a table outside, in the back of the restaurant, since the weather was so nice. The breeze combed through your hair as you turned over the menu. As promised, you ordered the restaurant’s specialty seafood ramen.

As you waited for your food, Taeyong said that he had a surprise for you after dinner. “It’s a surprise,” he said, after you asked what it was that he was planning. You sighed. “You’ll see…”

You felt like you would burst as you took a couple more spoonfuls of the seafood broth. The food was great. Being with Taeyong was great. Being here in Jeju was great. Everything was perfect, in your eyes. You couldn’t have asked for much of anything else.

After dinner, you went on a walk with your boyfriend. You held onto his hand as he lead you to the boardwalk. Though it was already dark, you could hear the ocean waves crashing onto the shore.

“So did you want to talk about something?” you asked.

Taeyong nodded. “Yeah. I do.” He stopped in his tracks, standing directly in front of you. “I’ve been thinking...We’ve been together a year, right?” You nodded. “I’m really happy with you, you know that, right?” Again, you nodded. “I want to keep being happy with you, Y/N...I want to be with you. Not just as your boyfriend but as your husband.” He pulled out a blue velvet box from his pocket and got down on one knee, like they did in the movies.

He said, “Will you marry me, Y/N?”

Your lips parted, in complete and utter shock. This wasn’t how you imagined your proposal to be. Years ago, when you imagined getting proposed to, it was definitely Johnny. You had imagined getting married to him, having babies with him, and growing old together. But then he got bored of you and threw you away.

And you found Taeyong, someone who wouldn’t throw you away into the trash. He would never hurt you intentionally. He would never lead you on or cheat on you. And even if he did, he would be honest about it even if you ended up breaking things off with him. But you knew that he wouldn’t do such horrible things. You knew that he would treat you right and that he would support you in any way that he could.

“I know it might be a little early,” he said. “It’s okay to say no.”

You shook your head. “No, no, no...It’s not that. I love you, Taeyong...and I want to be with you. I want to be your wife.”

He pulled the ring out of the box, carefully sliding it onto your finger. You were a happy woman, you realized. He hugged you tightly, realizing how lucky you were to have a man who cared about you so much. You were ready to finally discover what love was and how you deserved to be treated.

The two of you walked back to the hotel together. You couldn’t believe that you were going to get married. You looked down at your ring in awe.

He said, “I hope you like it…”

And you said, “It’s just my style.” And it was. Taeyong knew you so well. He knew that you wouldn’t want anything flashy. The ring was just right, not too flashy and not too minimal. The diamond was small, with tiny rhinestones around it, and a simple band.

When you got back to the hotel, you made love. You’d never had sex that felt so good, so loving, so fulfilling… And when you woke up in the morning, the other side of the bed was empty. Taeyong had gone out for a morning workout, according to his note. So you took a shower, deciding to go on a walk to get a little exercise yourself. You got dressed quickly and left, getting on the elevator.

On the way down, the elevator stopped at the fifth floor. Your eyes widened as you came in contact with a familiar face. It was a face that you were sure you never would’ve seen again. A face that you were sure you didn’t want to see again.

There were so many things you used to think, when imagining what it would be like running into him again. You wanted to say something hurtful, to hurt him like he hurt you. You wanted to make him feel small and useless, as he had done to you. You wanted to yell and scream, to remind him of what a horrible person he was. But now, you had no desire to do any of those things. He was a thing of the past, irrelevant now that you had a man that truly loved you.

As the elevator doors parted, he said, “Y/N?”

You cleared your throat. “It’s been a long time, Johnny.”

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5hfanfiction · 7 years

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Amnesia Ch. 06

Lauren

Everything was a blur these days. Between working on the album and rehearsing the dance moves to finding time to read Camren Fanfic, I was exhausted.

I know Camz had said Camren was nothing more than a friendship, I was still very curious of what the fans thought. I googled Camren and Tumblr came up with some pretty interesting results.

There was even a page dedicated to 5h Fanfiction. They had from Camren to Norminah to Camally. I guess we weren’t the only ship from the fandom but we were the most wanted ship.

Having found a few books that caught my fancy, I started reading. I was currently reading Do I Wanna Know and I was a famous solo artist after splitting away from Fifth Harmony. It was set years into the future, but it was so good. I couldn’t put it down when I had a few minutes to myself.

“Aye, yo Laurenza. Why do you have your eyes glued to your phone eye second you get?”

Oh great, another nickname. What else would they name me?

“Are you texting some hottie? I see you smiling from time to time?” Dinah was sitting next to Normani, as we took a break from dance rehearsals. Camila was thrown across one of the couches with her arm across her face, while Ally was God knows where. She seemed to disappear when we had breaks.

“Dinah, do you honestly believe that after losing 3 years of my memories and a year spent in a coma, I would be interested in messaging some ‘hottie’?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Well yeah. What else is there to do?”

I shook my head at what she said. “Oh I don’t know, maybe catch up on the world events and things that I’ve missed?”

It was a flat out bullshit lie but was I the one who was going to admit I was reading a Camren fanfic? Nope. Not in a million years.

“Oh then in that case, don’t forget to look into Queen B. She’s life.”

I rolled my eyes at her while she snickered.

“Sure. Top of my list DJ.” I replied sarcastically. The moment Dinah and I had brought the attention of Normani and Camz. Normani had been smiling and, even though she was hiding under her arm pretending to be asleep, Camz had been peeking through, watching us.

“Y'all are too much.” Normani quietly commented, going back to staring and scrolling through her phone; which she had been doing before Dinah had spoken up.

I hummed going back to reading the fanfic. I had just begun Chapter 6 where I was on my way to Camz’s birthday party.

“Whatcha reading Lolo?” Sucked into the book, I did not notice Camila had snuck up on me and was leaning over my shoulder. “Is that a Ca–”

I turned my screen off and placed my hand abruptly over her mouth to stop her from revealing what I was reading.

“If you say it, I’ll never hear the end of it with them two knuckle heads over there.” I hissed.

____________________________

Camila

I rolled my eyes while licking at her hand. Always for the dramatics.

“Eew! That’s so gross Camz!” She laughed while trying to wipe her hand on me.

I leaned back to get out of her reach. That didn’t stop her from getting up from her seat to accomplish her mission. I started running away from her. I was laughing and so was she.

I ran in circles around the girls sitting on the couch with Lauren directly on my tail. Running and laughing like this with Lauren, reminded me of the first time I had caught her reading Camren fanfic.

_________________________

The girls, minus Lauren, and I had spent the day exploring New York. Lauren had said she was feeling sick and wanted to stay in the hotel room to feel better. I of course, being the doting girlfriend I was, wanted to stay back and take care of her, but she made me go. She said she was fine and she swore she would be feeling better when I got back. I protested a little more, but in the end the girls had taken me away and Lauren got to stay behind.

Hours later, we were finally back at the hotel.

“Gosh Mila, you’d think there was a fire or something with the way you’re raping the up button for the elevator. Are you really in that much of a hurry to get to your room with Lauren?” Dinah swatted my hand away from the button.

I blushed. “I just want to make sure the vampire is still alive. You know how much of a baby she can be.” The girls had no clue that Lauren and I were together. Our little romance was hidden in hotel rooms and moments we could spare away from management and the girls.

“Don’t we know it. I’m glad I’m not her roommate this time around. She can be such a whiner.” Normani was right though. Lauren was such a baby and a big old teddy bear.

The elevator doors finally sprang open and I was the first to go inside, pressing the button for our floor.

“You know what would be hilarious to do?” I watched in horror as Dinah pressed all the buttons to the floors before us. She started laughing, pointing at my face when she saw my reaction.

Normani groaned. “Dinah, are you for real right now? I am super tired from our adventures and now we have to suffer through 13 floors before getting to ours?” She slumped down to the floor, not impressed with Dinah’s little joke.

Ally just stood there with a smile plastered on her face. “Aw, you guys. Just let her. At least we get to spend a few moments more with each other.”

“I’ve spent enough time with y'all today.” Normani murmured. “I want some me time now.” Normani was the lucky one to have a room all to herself this time around. Well, lucky in her opinion I loved it when Lauren and I got to share.

“Love you too Mani. Nice to know you love us too.” Dinah sent a playful glare in Mani’s direction.

I stayed quiet, watching the doors open and close like 50 times. After what felt like hours, the doors open to our floor and I sprinted out of there as fast as I could. I knew I probably wasn’t being subtle but I didn’t care. I wanted to make sure my baby girl was okay and feeling better. And if she wasn’t, then I would cater to her.

“See ya later Walz.”

I heard the girls’ voices disappear down the other way of the hallway as I swiped my key card into the door.

I opened the door softly, in case she was asleep. I didn’t want to wake her. I closed the door quickly and quietly. Turning back around to look into the room, I saw Lauren laying on her tummy across the bed. Her legs were up and she kept swinging them back and forth off the bed.

I decided to walk up behind her and snoop on what she was doing. I laid my jacket and purse down as I crept forward slowly. Getting closer I could see she had her headphones in and her phone was in her hand.

I couldn’t see exactly what she was looking at, but I knew she was on Tumblr. She was always on Tumblr. It was our thing.

Knowing I would scare the crap out of her I jumped on her back. She proceeded to scream and try to push me away but I latched on pretty well to her body.

“For fuck’s sake Camz!” She still had her headphones in even though she had caused a big commotion. Her voice was too many octaves higher than usual and the yelling was practically screams because of the headphones.

I laughed and pulled out the headphones from her ears.

“So is this what sick little girls do? They spend their time on Tumblr–” I grabbed the phone out of her hand. “Reading Camren fanfic?!”

My eyes scanned through the words in front of me and it looked like Lauren and I were in a risque situation in this book.

“No! Give my phone back!” Lauren tried to take the phone from my hands but I was stronger than what she thought. I sat on her, reading more of what she had been.

My eyes nearly bulged out my sockets.

“Lauren Michelle Jauregui!” I said in shock. “Are you reading smutt about you and me?"

She squirmed under me. "No.” It came out so softly I barely heard it, but I did.

I tossed her phone to the other bed in the room. With her still pinned to the bed under my weight, I adjusted myself so I was facing that beautiful face of hers that was trying to feed me lies; even though I had caught her red-handed.

“So your plan this morning was to fake being sick and stay in this hotel room to read Camren fanfic on Tumblr?”

“No.” She weakly stated, blowing out air through her nostrils. They flared a little towards the end. She was so damn cute.

“Did you not want to spend time with me?” I knew that wasn’t the case. I just wanted to give her some hell.

“No of course not. I just found some interesting things and…yeah…”

She had pouty lips and her eyes were looking everywhere but at me.

I was never mad and I would never be mad at her. I couldn’t be mad at her. She was just too cute to stay mad at. It was just fun to mess with her.

“Lolo, you are the most adorable person I know, probably in this whole universe.”

_____________________________

Lauren

I kept chasing her until I finally caught her in my arms. I don’t think I had ever laughed this hard in my life. This was a beautiful moment which I would get to keep.

“Don’t you dare wipe your hand on me Lo!”

“It’s your saliva so you shouldn’t be complaining.” I finally wiped my hand on her shirt, getting rid of her germs from my skin.

“Aw Camren feels!” Camz and I both looked at Dinah. She had her phone out and was taking pictures of us I believe.

I laughed, not caring at the ship name she used.

“Dinah stop.” Camila pulled out of my embrace. “You better not post whatever it is that you have.”

“No, I do what I want.” Dinah challenged back to Camila’s harsh words.

“Dinah Jane.” Camila’s tone wasn’t friendly in anyway.

The moment was ruined. It had been perfect. I was enjoying myself, not thinking for once about all my troubles.

What would it hurt to post those pictures? I’m sure the fans would love it. Granted, there would be more Camren things going around, but we were just friends right?

That’s what Camz had told me.

“Okay, sheesh. I won’t post them you party pooper.” Rolling her eyes, Dinah put her phone away.

“Alright everyone, breaks over.” Sean walked into the room.

Throughout rehearsal, Camila avoided contact with me at all costs and didn’t say a word to any of the girls. She went through the motions, following Sean’s instructions. And when we had finished and Sean said we could go home, Camila bolted out the door, leaving the rest of us behind.

“What’s wrong with Camila?” Ally asked. She was packing up her bag, as were the rest of us.

“She got all crazy when I took pictures of her and Lauren and told me not to post them online. She never cared before so I don’t know why she went ballistic.”

The girls left it at that and didn’t continue the conversation. I think it was because of me. Deep down I had a hunch there was more to Camren than everyone was letting on to, but I couldn’t question it. I had no memories to back it up.

Realizing they weren’t going to say more, I said my goodbyes and made my way home.

Pensive, I spent the whole car ride home thinking. I haven’t had a new memory in over a month. Not since that night when I first discovered Camren.

Was there something wrong with me? Was that it for me? Would those memories be the only thing I would remember for the rest of my life? It hardly seemed fair that the universe would only give me back two small memories.

“Ms. Jauregui. We’re here. Unless you needed to go somewhere else?”

“I’m sorry. I got stuck in my thoughts. Thanks for the ride Jeff."

I stepped out of the car and made the trek up to my apartment. A couple of flights later, I managed to reach my apartment on the third floor.

These stairs were going to kill me one of these days. Between the dance rehearsals, little to no sleep and having to go up and down the stairs on a daily basis, I would drop dead before I was 21.

Keys jingling between my fingers and excitement pulsing through my veins at the thought of getting some time alone to read, I didn’t notice he silhouette at the end of the hallway.

Entering the key into the key hole, a voice spoke out scaring the crap out of me.

"Hey Lauren.”

Searching for the person the voice belonged to, shock spread through all my features. No way, my eyes were deceiving me.

__________________________

Author’s Note:

So yeah… I’m gonna leave it just there for you guys.

-brknshdws

#UPDATE #series #non AU #camren #based on song #submission #Amnesia

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anavoliselenu · 7 years

Text

Creighton chapter 11

BILLIONAIRE’S BRIDE FLYING COACH?

Selena Wix, newly married to billionaire Justin Karas, was spotted on a commercial flight from NYC to Nashville, and our sources say she was flying coach. Is there trouble in paradise already? With a fleet of three Gulfstreams, you’d think the billionaire could have arranged a classier ride for his bride. We’ll be reporting back when we have more on the latest match to rock Music City.

The cab ride to the airport took the rest of my cash, and I’m lucky that I’m getting paid next week, because the last-minute flight maxed out my own credit card. I left my new Amex Black Card on the kitchen counter of my new husband’s Fifth Avenue penthouse.

Big sunglasses hide the circles under my eyes, and hopefully my identity. I thought I saw a guy on his phone staring at me a little too long, but I’m not worrying about it. I shouldn’t be that recognizable. This town is full of one-hit wonders, and I haven’t even had a chart-topping single yet. Plus, without all my stage makeup on and my hair in a messy braid, I just look like your average Midwestern girl.

I stretch, trying to work out the knots in my back after sitting through the flight with my arms practically tucked around my body. My middle seat in coach put me right between two very large men who smelled strongly of garlic. I thought about writing, but I didn’t want to move, let alone get my notebook out and have them stare at what I was doing. So I kept myself immobile, which explains the knots in my back.

Anyway, my thoughts were probably too jumbled to do anything more than massacre the song ideas I jotted down today while I waited for Justin. I know I have a good one percolating, but it’s still just out of reach. I can’t find the right words quite yet, which might be to blame on my mental state.

But the upside is I’m back in Nashville, and Tana’s Range Rover is idling at the curb when I step out of the sliding glass doors of the airport.

The window slides down as she waves me over. “Get your ass in here before I get towed!”

I smile, relieved to feel a little of my shitty mood slipping away. Opening the door, I slide inside.

“Your luggage get lost?” She surveys the one small bag I shove down by my feet.

“Nope. This is it.”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “Oh, please God, tell me that he made you go naked and that’s why you have no clothes other than the ones you probably wore when you flew to New York on New Year’s Eve.”

Tana was aware of every intimate detail of my trip, and disagreed with my choice to bring nothing but myself.

I smile at her expression. “No naked rule. I just . . . felt like traveling light.”

Her eyebrows fall back into their normal position and her smile slips into a frown. “Please don’t tell me this has something to do with your mom and her hooking up with every man in town and letting them pay her way.”

And that’s the joy of having a friend who has plied you with enough wine to spill your whole life story. But in this instance, she’s not exactly right. The reasons I left New York are a lot bigger than that.

“Tana—”

“Damn it, Selena. I knew this was going to happen. I knew it.”

I really don’t want to have this conversation now, because Tana will want to dissect not only what happened with Justin, but why I’m acting the way I am. I’m too worried about missing the bus to play along while she psychoanalyzes my actions in light of what she knows about my past. I love her, but I just can’t right now. So I tell her the truth.

“Can we hold off on this conversation until I’m not on the edge of being late for a tour bus leaving? I really, really just want to get to my apartment and grab my stuff so I can get on the bus and forget about everything but the music.”

“You’re not missing the friggin’ bus. I’ll get you home as quick as a cab would.” She gives me a side-eye. “But you’re gonna talk while I drive.”

I sigh and stare straight ahead as she pulls away from the curb and waves to the security guy eyeing her car suspiciously. Her head jerks toward me before she focuses once again on navigating through airport traffic.

“Talk, woman.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“That your husband knows exactly where you are, and you’re not a runaway bride.”

“Har-har. I’m hardly a runaway bride. That requires running away before the vows, I think.”

She cuts through my bullshit answer. “Does your husband know where you are?”

I fix my stare on the red light as we slow. “I left a note.”

“Which said?”

I should have known Tana wouldn’t drop it. She’s a damn bulldog about getting the details. If she weren’t my closest and possibly only friend, I’d tell her to back off. But instead, I tell her the truth.

“It said good-bye.” My reply is a mumble, because I know I’m about to get a verbal bitch-slapping.

Her screech, which is oddly melodic, fills the cabin of the Range Rover. “Why would you do that? Did he hit you?”

I swing my head to face her. “No! Of course not!” I can’t believe she’d even ask that.

She glances back at me before her eyes go back to the road, and we accelerate. “So then, what happened? He’s a billionaire, so maybe he was into that kinky Christian Grey stuff? Did he have a Red Room of Pain? Oh my God, he did, didn’t he? Did he spank you? Bring out his riding crop? Shit. That’s hot.”

I cover my face with my palm. I don’t even know where to start, but I have to say something or she’ll keep going. Her imagination is just getting fired up. And God knows I don’t want her to actually hit on the truth.

But how do I answer that? He did spank me, and I loved it. And then the . . . other stuff. Kinky billionaire, indeed.

“He didn’t get out a riding crop, and there was no Red Room of Pain.”

Thankfully, the answer stops her tide of kinky questions.

Shaking her head, she replies, “Well, that’s just damn disappointing. So, are you just crazy? Who walks out on a billionaire with a note that just says good-bye? Oh, and doesn’t bring anything with her? That’s evidence of crazy right there, if I’ve ever seen any.”

I decide that the truth is all I can offer in my defense. “Look, you know I need to be on that bus or I’m screwed. I couldn’t wait any longer, so I did what I had to do.” I turn and look at her. “I did exactly what you would’ve done in my shoes—what was best for my career.”

“I would’ve hitched a ride on a private jet, that’s what I would’ve done. Girl, you’ve gotta learn to use what you’ve been given to your best advantage.”

Her words crack something open inside me and the truth spills out.

“Well, I couldn’t exactly hop a ride on the private jet because he forgot about me.” At her look of shock, I continue. “Yeah, that’s right. My husband forgot about me. Told me when he’d be there, and he wasn’t. And not only was he not there, he didn’t answer my calls or texts, so finally I got through to his number-two guy and basically got the blow-off speech. So that’s what happened. End of story.”

“Oh shit, honey. I’m sorry. That ain’t cool at all.” Sympathy coats her every word.

“Well, it’s not like I’m the most important piece on the chessboard he calls an empire.”

Tana looks at me sideways as we merge onto the highway. “But, honey, you’re his queen. I don’t know jack shit about chess, but is there a more important piece on the board to the king?”

A sick feeling settles in my stomach. “I guess to Justin, he’s the most important piece on the board, and everything else can be sacrificed for the good of the king.”

Tana’s face falls. “I’m sorry, hon. That sucks big hairy balls. So I guess that means you’re not going to call him and let him know you made it, despite not having a fancy jet to fly on, huh?”

I consider it again. I mean, if I were a real wife, I’d probably tell him I made it. But honestly, what are the odds that Justin has even noticed I’m gone yet? He couldn’t step away for thirty seconds before.

And then there’s the mulishly stubborn part of me holding on to some thin thread of hope that maybe Justin will call me. And then what? Apologize for blowing me off? Tell me he misses me, and he’s on his way because he can’t stand to be away from me?

Each possibility seems more unlikely than the last.

Tana doesn’t ask any other questions as we navigate the traffic and finally pull up in front of my apartment. It’s a far cry from the giant mansion on a sprawling estate behind fancy gates like Tana lives in. But that’s life as a new kid on the block trying to make it big.

My contract with Homegrown might have sounded impressive when I won the show Country Dreams, but “a million-dollar recording contract” doesn’t go very far when you consider how much it costs to produce an album. For the hours I put into practicing, writing, doing press, radio spots, and everything else, I barely make minimum wage. On top of that, my cut from concert ticket and album sales is laughable.

Even though it was a rude awakening to find out exactly what I signed with such stars in my eyes, it doesn’t bother me as much as you might think. Most of the people I know who didn’t get into the business on one of those make-me-a-star TV shows lived in crappier accommodations for a time before they hit it big.

Some even lived in their cars—provided they didn’t get repo’d. Jason Aldean’s song “Crazy Town” was based in truth. You just never know when or if you’re going to “make it.” You really could be losing everything one minute and then be getting a fat paycheck the next. It’s the game we’re all playing and hoping to win. There are no guarantees for any of us.

“Thank you for the ride, babe. You know I appreciate it.”

“Of course. You sure you don’t want me to stick around?”

I shake my head. “I just need to grab a few things and find out where the bus is parked.” Glancing at the time on the dash, I realize I’ve got less than an hour. “I better get going.”

“All right, hon. You break a leg on that stage, hear me? And when that man comes crawling back to you—because if he knows the kind of woman he’s got, he’ll be doing exactly that—give him a chance.”

I swing my head to stare at her. “Give him a chance? I thought you were going to tell me to rip him a new asshole. Why—?”

Tana’s blue eyes are sympathetic. “You’ve got a lot of mistrust built up because of your ma, and you have to realize you’re not her. Your life is what you make of it, and I’m still holding out some hope that this guy is worthy of you. Give him a chance to grovel. A man’s character has a tendency to get really fucking clear when he’s groveling because the best thing that ever happened to him is on the line.”

I try to summon a smile, but I can’t quite do it. “I guess we’ll see if he comes groveling at all.” I lean over the center console to hug her. “See you soon.”

“Knock ’em dead, hon,” Tana says as I slip out of the car.

Hurrying, I adjust my purse over my shoulder and hustle up to my apartment. The first thing I see when I open my door is my old battered guitar case tucked under my coffee table.

My first ever. I fried thousands of onion rings and tater tots in order to buy this guitar from Super Pawn. It took me almost a year to save up, and then when I finally had the cash in hand and went to the pawnshop, the owner offered me a disgusting back-office discount.

Furious, I threw the bills on the counter, not bothering to haggle, and told him to give me the damn guitar before I reported him to the cops for soliciting sex with a minor. It was so much less than what I wanted to do—namely, grab the baseball bat from behind the counter and swing it at his head. I left minutes later with my very first guitar and never looked back.

A million years ago, it seems. Just look how much has changed.

I’m halfway down the tiny hallway to my bedroom when my phone buzzes in my purse. Justin is my first thought. My hand shakes as I dig inside to pull it out.

My heart—my stupid heart—falls when I see the text is from my manager.

Chance: Where the hell are you? You better be on your way. BT is almost ready to head out.

Shit. I run into my bedroom and grab a suitcase from my closet, and stuff handfuls of underwear and bras in it. A few pairs of yoga pants and some T-shirts and jeans, and I’m pretty much packed.

I reply to Chance.

Selena: Just finished packing. On my way. Where’s the bus?

Chance’s answer makes me cringe.

Chance: At BT’s. I left your name at the gate.

Double shit. BT is Boone Thrasher—the headliner of the tour I’m currently on. His place isn’t in one of those fancy neighborhoods behind a regular gate like Tana’s. No, he lives out in the boondocks where he can shoot skeet off his back porch, ride his dirt bikes on his own track, and his dogs can run wild and bark at everything in sight.

If I’m going to get to his place on time, I’ll need every minute I’ve got. I’ve been there once before, when he invited me out to meet him before agreeing to have me on his tour. He wanted to make sure I wasn’t going to be—in his words—some whiny-ass bitch who would make him miserable. We hit it off when I kicked his ass at bowling in his basement lane. You can take the girl out of the bowling alley . . .

Time to get my ass in gear and hustle, but my phone buzzes again.

Chance: Good news. He wants to rehearse that duet you talked about before Christmas. Get your ass here and make it happen.

I toss my phone on the bed and do a little fist pump before tearing off my jeans and blouse to throw on something clean and get the hell out of here. This duet would mean getting to go back out onstage during his set where I can feel the energy coming from his fans when they’re all whipped up and excited for him.

As the first act, I generally play to a less-than-full stadium, when people are a little more concerned about making sure they have full beers than they are about paying attention to my music. Well, except for the fans who actually come to see me.

But this is where everyone starts, I remind myself, and I’m crazy lucky that I’m on tour with Boone Thrasher to begin with. And the duet? That’s huge.

I spend thirty seconds freshening up my makeup and shoving my toiletries in my makeup bag before slipping into the battered brown-and-black cowboy boots I bought for my eighteenth birthday. Which was the fourth birthday in a row that my mama didn’t even bother to send a card.

Pushing that thought away, because it was just one more piece of baggage that Tana was talking about when she dropped me off, I grab my jacket and head for the door.

Despite his badass reputation, Boone’s a good guy. A really good guy. His tiny, gorgeous, chart-topping girlfriend is a lucky lady. But from what I’ve seen of her, I’m not so sure she’s aware of that fact. She’s actually kind of a bitch. And by kind of, I mean, she’s a total Grade-A, possessive, catty bitch.

Not that I’d ever tell Boone that. These lips don’t do the gossip thing. One negative word to the wrong person, and I’d be screwed. So I just keep my opinions to myself. The world of country music isn’t so different from high school.

I lock my apartment door behind me and hoof it down the stairs and out to the covered parking where my 1998 Pontiac Firebird waits for me. And yes, I’m completely aware that what was cool in 1998 is not quite so cool now. Which means that I got a killer deal on it when my 1988 Fiero kicked the bucket just before I got my golden audition ticket for Country Dreams.

I suppose I could buy a little bit newer car with the semi-regular paycheck I get now, but the Firebird still gets me from A to B, and I prefer to save my money for a rainy day. If there’s one thing that I’ve learned about this town, it’s that everything can change in a moment.

Thirty-five minutes later, I pull up at the gates of Boone’s place, and a man built like a brick shithouse comes out of the guard shack and bends down to my window. I open the door—because the window doesn’t work anymore—and he smiles.

“I got the same problem with my Grand Prix. Fucking Pontiacs,” he says.

“You got that right. I’m Selena—”

“Yep. Know who you are, sweet thing. They’re waiting on you. Buses are here and ready to go too.” He backs away from my car and activates the gate opener.

I swing my door shut and drive through. Sure enough, two tour buses are parked in front of the house set off from the road by almost a mile-long driveway. I pull into a small parking lot-size area beside the garage and shut off my car.

I need to get in there and find Chance and make sure he reports in that I wasn’t late before someone at the label starts checking, looking to boot me off. As soon as the thought hits my brain, the man in question knocks on the window of my car and opens the door.

“You need to replace this piece of shit, girl. And why the hell didn’t you answer your phone?”

I frown at Chance. “What are you talking about? I answered your texts.”

He pulls me out of my car by the hand. “Well, you didn’t answer when I called you five times to ask you to pick me up some Johnny Walker on the way. The bus is out, and Boone wants some for the road.”

“Crap. I must’ve had my radio on too loud. It’s on vibrate.” I reach back into my car to grab my purse and start rooting through it to find my phone.

“Your suitcase in the trunk?” Chance asks.

I nod, not looking up from my task, and he reaches around me to pop the trunk. By the time he has my suitcase in hand, I’m starting to panic.

“Where the hell is my phone?” I mumble. “I had it.”

“Come on, girl. Let’s move it. We won’t get to San Antonio with you standing here digging through your purse.”

I jerk my head up and stare at him. “San Antonio? I thought Dallas was next.”

Chance shakes his head. “Nope. That’s why we’re leaving early. Boone signed up to do a last-minute charity gig, and you’re along for the ride. Dallas is after that, so it’s not that far off.”

Dropping my purse on the ground, I bend over and look between the seats and the console to see if my phone slid down. Chance, clearly impatient with me, calls it. I wait, but there’s no telltale buzz or vibration.

“Shit. I must’ve left it in my apartment.”

“No time to go back for it, so you’ll have to have someone get it for you and overnight it to you. I’ll get the hotel address.”

I huff out a long sigh. Shit. I don’t even know if I have Tana’s number to ask her to go back to my place and grab it . . . but then again, I bet Chance or Boone does. Between the two of them, they seem to have everyone’s number in this town.

“You ready to rehearse?”

“What?” I ask, my mind still on how to retrieve my phone.

“The duet. ‘That Girl.’ Boone wants to play some acoustic stuff on the bus, so you’re riding with him. I made sure you’ve got a guitar on there already. Now come on, let’s go.”

Chance leads me by the arm up to the house to say hi to the guys before we all climb up the stairs. All my worries slip away once I let myself fall into the easy bullshitting and name-calling with the guys. And once I’m on the bus with Boone, I let myself go in the music.

It’s a couple of hours and who knows how much whiskey later when we stop so the guys can grab a smoke. I stumble onto my own bus—one that I’ll be sharing with my band and maybe the other opening act, if they don’t have their own bus. No one has seen fit to share that detail with me yet. But because it’s out of my control, I don’t waste any more time thinking about it.

Some drunk hope makes me think that maybe I missed my phone in my search of the purse, so I dump the entire contents out on the kitchenette table.

A handful of tampons. A dozen or so lip glosses and lipsticks. A lighter—not sure where that came from, since I don’t smoke. My wallet. My car keys. My songwriting notebook. My smaller backup songwriting notebook. Six pens, in all different colors. Two pencils. Gum. Gum wrappers. Loose change. Lint.

Still no phone.

Before I left Boone’s bus, I asked Chance for Tana’s number, just in case. He wrote it on my palm in Sharpie with big block letters saying Call Me above it.

I make my way up to the bus driver’s seat.

“Hey, Chaz?”

“Ma’am?”

“Told you to call me Selena a dozen times, Chaz.” Maybe more than a dozen, if I’m being honest.

“Yes, Ms. Selena.”

“Can I borrow your phone?”

“Sure thing.” He grabs it from the pocket in the side of his seat and hands it over, all without ever taking his eyes off the road.

“Thanks.”

I stumble back to the couch and position my thumb over the number pad. I glance down at my palm, and I know the person I should be calling instead of Tana is Justin.

But you didn’t merit a phone call from him, the hurt inside me protests. It’s true, but still.

I drop my head to the back of the couch when it hits me that even if I wanted to call Justin, I don’t know any of his numbers by heart, and it’s not like I can just call Information or something. I could google Karas International, but what is the likelihood they’ll ever put me through to his personal line? Even when I had that number, his secretary didn’t believe that I was me at first.

My best bet is getting my phone back.

I punch in Tana’s number, and she answers after I call her three times in a row.

“Hello?” Her voice is suspicious as shit, and I realize she doesn’t recognize the number. Plus it’s almost midnight.

“It’s me. Selena. Sorry for calling so late.”

“Oh, hey, hon. No worries. You know I’m up at all hours anyway. What’s up? The man come track you down already?”

I squeeze my eyes shut. Hell, even if Justin wanted to track me down right now, I think even he’d be SOL. I’m on a bus on a highway headed for a tour stop not on my tour list.

But then again, I guess I don’t know what kind of resources he has at his disposal, or if he’d use them to come after me. The hope rising in my chest, the hope that started blossoming that night we ate Sixteen Candles style on the dining room table, wants desperately for him to come chasing after me with an apology.

“Selena?”

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tattoosandporcelain-blog · 7 years

Photo

“My daddy is a fireman and he saves people from fires.”

“Yeah? Well /my/ daddy is a police man and he arrests bad people!”

“Oh yeah? Well /myyy/ daddy is a doctor and he heals people.”

“Coree, what does your daddy do?”

The little girl with eyes of blue and hair of light blonde looked over to the three boys surrounding her comparing the occupations of their fathers. She sucked in her lower lip as she knew she had nothing to offer in the conversation, but she didn’t want to tell the truth either. “I don’t have a daddy anymore.”

———

The first time she stood at that gravestone, she was five years old. She looked up at her mother who nodded her head, urging the child to place the flower against the stone while her mother stood a short distance away. “Can he hear me?” the little girl asked, her voice quivering under the situation that she didn’t entirely understand. Her mother met her eyes, nodding her head. ‘I believe he can,’ she stated, careful not to lie, yet wanting to comfort her daughter all at the same time. Her mother’s eyes scanned the area, constantly looking around, never quite settling in as she stood there, but the little girl wouldn’t notice as she leaned forward to place the flower against the stone.

“Daddy? I brought you a flower because mommy said it was a good idea. She also told me you live here now and you can’t go live with us and that makes me sad because all the other kids have daddies and I only have a mommy. I don’t like being different than the other kids, but mommy said it is okay and that you can be in my heart now too.” As she was speaking to her father, she heard her mother’s cry, prompting the swift turn of the blonde ponytail as she found her mother crying into her hands. Instantly, Coree ran to her mother, wrapping her arms around her thighs and holding onto her. Lifting her head, her eyes lifted to find the features of her mother still hidden. “It’s okay. Don’t cry, mommy. You have me.”

———

Coree never would understand why they couldn’t go back to that grave again after that day, always deciding it must have just been too hard for her mother to face it. On the anniversary of her father’s death, she’d always fly to be with her mother and the two would spend much of the day wrapped up in one another’s arms in bed. They’d watch his favorite movies and eat his favorite food. Coree would listen to her mother whisper all the ways that Coree was exactly like her father and the two would spend the day with one another. There was no talk of the car accident that claimed his life. But this year was to be different. This year Coree had disappointed her mother by telling her that she couldn’t come visit because of the album she was working on in New York and a trip just wasn’t in the cards at the time. Barron was bogged down in classes and she was working her ass off. It just couldn’t happen. Her mother suggested coming to New York instead and Coree almost said yes, but ultimately couldn’t. She had a show that night and she couldn’t handle the idea of failing in front of her mother. “I’m sorry mom. Maybe in a few weeks.”

When she arrived to her apartment that night, she’d walk to the doorman and offered a weak smile. He instantly addressed her by ‘Miss Marx’ and asked if she was alright. She shook her head no as she couldn’t tell the lie. “Could you tell me if there is roof access?” she asked, to which she was shown just how to access the roof of the building she’d only lived in for a few weeks now. She thanked him and went on her way, not stopping in the apartment, but making her way directly for the roof instead. She’d take the elevator to the top floor before she was coming off and heading for the stairwell that would take her the additional floor’s height to the open spaced roof. Up there, she’d find no one. It wasn’t exactly a space set for entertaining as some buildings held. It was industrial and filled with the noise of the city below. HVac units worked against the roof to filter warmth into the building as the snow crunched against her feet as she walked to the edge. Looking down, she instantly pulled back, never before holding a fear of heights, but suddenly that was just too far down.

She backed away and found a small crate covered in snow. Knocking it off with her booted foot, she sat down and stared up at the starless sky. The lights of the city were too bright for her to find a single star in the night sky and the only lights she’d see above her head would surely be that of planes. She sighed as it wasn’t the same as how she’d remember her father every other year, but it was what it was now. Withdrawing her phone, she’d send Barron a text, having previously let him know that she was out to dinner with her boss, but should have been in the apartment by now. -On the roof.- She didn’t send anything else as it was a half invitation and half information, but either way she’d be quite alright with it. In truth, he might not want to see this. This was something only her mother had witnessed in all of the years they had done this. Barron would see the aftermath. The bloodshot eyes. The tear stained cheeks. The light red rim of her nose. He’d see the emotional distress of the woman when the storm had passed.

Finding the photo gallery in her phone, she’d open to the image of her standing beside her father’s grave, giving him that first flower the one and only time she’d ever visit the place though to this day she didn’t know why they didn’t go there. As she stared down at the image, she drew her lower lip in, biting softly against it. “I’ve never quite done it this way,” she confessed to the image, her eyes welling instantly as she spoke the words out loud. “The last time I talked to you, I gave you a flower. I was five and… this is ridiculous,” she scolded herself, knowing now that the man couldn’t hear her on that roof any more than he could have heard her in the cemetery that day when she was a little girl. And yet, she kept going. “I’m literally talking to a photograph and it’s not even one of you. But it’s kind of all I’ve got right now. Dad… I know you don’t know me and I don’t know you, but I really don’t know what to do. When I was little, and I was learning how to ride my bike, you weren’t there. I skinned myself up pretty bad, but I made it through. When I was learning how to drive a car, I freaked out behind the wheel and nearly killed myself, but I made it through that as well. When I first got my heart broke, you weren’t there, but I made it through. I know I’ll make it through. That isn’t really the question right now. It’s more of how? How do I do this? How do I keep putting one foot in front of the other when I feel like every step forward is just on a thinner rope and I’m going to fall off? It’s going to be worse than a skinned knee or a broken heart.

Mom says I’m a lot like you. She says that my eyes are entirely yours and the way my nose crinkles when I laugh is you as well. She says I got my height from you and the goodness in my heart too. She says that I’m so much like you that when she looks at me, she sees you. So maybe if I’m so much like you, maybe you’re the only one that can help me.” Still not feeling entirely comfortable talking to the image, she lowered the phone to her lap and let her eyes fall closed. She drew in a slow breath, attempting to reign in the emotions that threatened her as she felt herself getting there to the place where she’d ultimately have to tell him what was wrong. Everything that was wrong. “I moved to New York and although this place is amazing, the pressures here are so high. I was writing music and I wanted more, so I did it. I pursued it and now I’ve got a place on a label, but I can’t follow through. I’m three fourths through recording my album and in the studio, I’m okay. I’m better than okay. I’m comfortable and at ease and it’s great… but the second there are people in front of me? The moment I step onto a stage, I freeze. I stand there and I stare at them all and I don’t know what it is that I’m looking for, but my eyes scan the crowd and I just see each and every face and it’s almost as if I can feel the pressure radiating off of them. They’re waiting. Executives say they are waiting for me to sing, but I know they aren’t. They are waiting for me to fail. So I apologize and I walk off the stage with my head hung low and each time it happens, there are people telling me it will get easier, but what if it doesn’t? What if I’m just not cut out for this? What if this was all just a big mistake? How do I get up there and not see them? How do I turn it all off? How do I stand before hundreds or thousands of people and expose myself like that? Or how do I call the whole thing off?

The label has money invested in me. More money than I’ve ever seen in my lifetime. And I’m wasting every last dime of it. I’m literally throwing their money away each and every time and yet there is even more money being put into this album and if I can’t get out and promote it, it’s not going to sell. It’s going to be a huge loss and… I used your name. I wrote as Memphis because I didn’t want to fail on my own name. Then when I decided to do this, I went with Coree Marx instead of Coree Cartwright. I wanted you there. I knew you’d never be able to, so it was kind of my way of bringing you along for the ride. And yet, I’m failing at the ride and I’m so disappointed in myself that I don’t even know which way to turn. I don’t know if I cut my losses and say one last apology and go back into the solitude of writing, or if I am supposed to push through. It makes no fucking sense, but I don’t want to let you down. You died in that car crash because of me. Mom never did tell me what happened that day, but one of her friends did just a few years back. She said I was two years old and I was throwing a fit in the backseat of the car. I’d been screaming for God only knows how long when finally mom had to climb into the backseat. You were trying to steady her as she climbed back there and you lost sight of the road for a single moment, long enough to hit another car head on when you crossed that center line. Mom and I walked away without a scratch, but you were killed instantly on impact. The skid marks on the ground… they showed that you were correcting it in those last minutes and every degree that you brought the car back into our lane increased the chances we’d survive, but in doing so, you took the full force of the oncoming car to yourself. There like this pressure and I can’t shake it. If I fail, I fail you and you were the one person who did everything not to fail me.”

By the time she finished speaking, tears were streaming down her face as she stared down at the snow against the roof’s surface. It all blurred together through her tears, becoming a smeared white smudge in her eyes filling even the gaps where it had begun to melt. She felt exposed and vulnerable there on the rooftop as it was not the secluded space of the apartment, and yet it was the closest to the sky that she could get. She wasn’t sure if she believed in heaven or not, but it just felt right in the moment if she couldn’t be with her mother or at the grave herself. Continuing on, her vulnerability would reach its peak, though they were words she’d not breathed out loud to another soul. They were thoughts she’d been swallowing for weeks now, pretending as though they didn’t exist, marching through her day to day life as though it had been just a blip on the radar and she had come out unscathed, but the truth was, she was scarred deeply and it was taking everything in her to just keep putting one foot in front of the other.

“And then there’s the boy. It’s been up and it’s been down and I don’t even know which way is which at the moment. I fuck it all up every single time and I don’t know how I do it, but I do. I open my big fucking mouth and I say something or I don’t understand something or I just exist wrong. When we’re together, I feel complete. But when we’re apart, there’s a part of me literally missing. He takes it with him when he goes and I don’t get it back until he comes back. I don’t know what he does when he’s away, but when he’s away, I literally wait for him to come back. I can’t move on from him and I don’t ever want to. This last break up was brutal. We got back together six months ago and ever since then, it’s been the way I always thought it should be. We’ve both grown so much in the relationship and we’re supporting one another’s interests. We even moved in together. But I fucked up just a few days later and I’m acting like nothing happened, but it did and it’s not gonna just go away in my mind. I came out of the recording booth and I was just thrilled. The track was one I’d written for him. He was there to hear it being laid. And when I came out, I was so excited that I just… I wanted to celebrate. I asked him to marry me. Right there in front of about six other people. And he thought I was kidding. I was one hundred percent sure that when he realized I wasn’t, that he’d take me into his arms and we’d be off to Vegas the next day. I was so sure that we were there, ready to take that leap and solidify what we’ve been playing with for years. I’m ready and I know for a fact that there’s no one else that’s ever going to be him for me. He’s it. But not only was it rejected, it was publicly rejected in front of the guys I work with every day. I was embarrassed. He was embarrassed. We got in a huge fight from there and then…. You don’t want to know. We got things back on track and I literally walk through every day trying to not feel like a fucking idiot for asking him to marry me when he wasn’t there yet and in the way I did it. I didn’t mean to. It isn’t like I planned to do it. It just came out in the most truthful way ever and yet, no. We don’t talk about it and I don’t even know how or what I’d say if I did bring it up.

So my career is more than likely over before it even gets started. I’m pretty much letting you down and destroying your name that I was trying to honor when I used it. And I fucked up with the boy I’ve spent my entire life with and I don’t know how I’m ever supposed to make that one right. I don’t know if he’ll ever be ready. He’s got a bad track record with viewing marriage and I get it. I do. I never had an example of it either and although my situation was different than his was, I just know that we can do this. I know that if there are two people in this world that can do it, it’s us. But I don’t know how to tell him that without it being me begging for something that he might not want. I don’t know how to do anything and literally everything I touch is turning to shit. There are times that I get up and I put on the smile because that’s what I’m supposed to do and I pretend that everything is just alright and like, a part of me knows that it will be ultimately, but it’s not okay right now and I don’t know how to do it. I just need your help. I need a sign. I need something to fall out of the sky with my name on it with fucking life instructions telling me how to turn off my fucking head. I need a road map of where I’m supposed to go and how I’m supposed to get there. I need you to kiss my skinned knee and I need you to take the wheel for a minute and I need you to hold me and fix my broken heart. I need you to turn off the lights in the arena and let me play to a black out crowd. I need you to show me the way with Barron and help me either fix it or accept it. I need you to turn off the voices in my head for five fucking minutes so that I can just think. I need… I need you. I need to talk to you and I need to hear your voice and I need you to pull me against your chest like mom said you always did. I need you to put me on your knee and tell me it’s all gonna be alright and take me out for ice cream. I need you to call me your princess and cradle my face in your hands. I need you to look into my eyes and promise me that it’s all gonna be alright. I need you to just come back. Please. I know you can’t, but that’s what I need. I need the one person that I’ve always needed and never had. I need my dad to help me. To protect me. To show me which way to go. I need to just call you, even for five minutes and I won’t interrupt you even once. I’ll let you tell me what you think and I’ll listen. I just. I just need you.”

By the time the last words had left her lips, she was on her knees in the snow. Her phone had fallen from her lap and was surely ruined from the moisture it was taking in minute by minute as the knees of her pants and the front of her boots became completely wet against her. Digging her nails into the palms of her hands, her entire body trembled as she allowed herself to feel it all. Twenty one years of living with no father, with no paternal guidance, with no strong arm to wrap around her and tell her that it was all going to be alright. She’d allow herself to beg for his help though she knew her request was as foolish as trying to get water from a stone. She’d allow herself to fall apart entirely, pleading with the sky to provide to her a sign of which way to go next. But in the end, what she’d end up with were snow dampened jeans, a pair of ruined Italian leather boots, and the deepest blood shot eyes she’d ever experienced as never before would she let so much out at one time only to find herself exactly where she started.

-March 22, 2017

#ionlyaskthatyouwontgoagain #memphis #2017 #insights

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