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#KIMMY WORLD TOUR
jere-me--oh-my · 1 year
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Along for the Ride - Jemmy [Flashforward]
SwynWriMo Day - 21:   Write either a flashback or a flashforward thread with another mun!
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Sydney Airport, 2032.
[Outfit] [General Overall Look]
Jeremy looked over the top of his book, at the couple who were whispering to themselves and casting glances over at the sofa Jeremy was currently lounging on. Time to take pity on them, perhaps? Folding his book page, he set the book down, and gave them a wave. Both of them blushed, but edged over. 
“Hi, sorry... excuse me? Um.”
“Want a photo?” Jeremy offered, which caused the rest of the band to look up, seeing the fans standing there. 
“Um, yes, please.” The guy gulped, pulling out his phone. 
“C’mon you lot-” Jeremy patted Alex’s leg and stood up. The rest of the band assembled, standing, grinning, around the couple. “Say cheeeeeeeeeese!”
“Thanks, thanks so much,” the woman smiled. “We absolutely loved the last album, by the way. Oh-” she clasped a hand over her heart as she turned to Jeremy. “And that version of Standing In The Dark you did live, Jeremy, honestly, I cried. It was beautiful.”
As they left again, grinning, and whispering that could you believe they’d just met The Incidentals!, Jeremy sat back down in the midst of the the rest of them in one big pile. “You are such a soft touch with the fans Johnson,” Josh sighed, shaking his head. “Well they are the reason we get to do world tours buddy,” Jeremy didn’t look up, re-opening his book, he knew Josh was just getting bored, he never could handle waiting. 
Predictably... “Can we seriously not board already?”
“Gotta wait for one member of the party,” Allie, the tour manager sighed, looking up from her emails. They all looked at her, confused, before a figure came across towards them all.
“Kimmy P!!!” Josh cheered at the sight of her. 
“Heeeeeeeey, Kim!” Jeremy stood up, opening his arms to his old friend for a hug. “Man, I totally forgot you were getting a lift back with us! How’re you doing? You good?”
“Saved the world today?” Alex asked.
@sonotthedrama​
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thrashntreasure · 2 months
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Ep110 Cuck of the Walk w/ Peter Rowsthorn! (AUS)
Look at us, Kimmy! Coz this week we're joined by Aussie comedy legend, Peter Rowsthorn! (Say what?! *faints*) Joining AW and Matt fresh from visiting Roxy at the Cook County Jail, the star of 'Kath and Kim', 'Crackers', and 'Chicago: the Musical' -currently touring Australia- brings his affable charms into our torture chamber for some Murderdolls' 'Women and Children Last', before we queue up to 'Ride the Cyclone' with the cult Canadian smash hit! Plus, we chat the current Chicago tour, Kath and Kim noses, Chicago again, The Comedy Company, Ownership of Characters, Mama Asabi in Chicago, Nike Moccasins, and even MORE Chicago: the Musical!
'CHICAGO: the Musical' Tickets: https://chicagomusical.com.au/ - Now Playing in Brisbane, then Melbourne (March), Sydney (June), and Adelaide (August).
-SOCIALS- Peter on IG: https://www.instagram.com/peterrowsthorn/
Matt: https://www.instagram.com/mattyoungactor/
***** Juxtaposing Metal with Musicals - joined by iconic guests from the worlds of Music, Broadway, Hollywood, and more! https://www.thetonastontales.com/listen -- https://www.patreon.com/bloomingtheatricals - https://twitter.com/thrashntreasure https://linktr.ee/thrashntreasure ***** Help support Thrash 'n Treasure and keep us on-air, PLUS go on a fantastical adventure at the same time! Grab your copy of The Tonaston Tales by AW, and use the code TNT20 when you check out for 20% off eBooks and Paperbacks! https://www.thetonastontales.com/bookstore - TNT20  *****
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ambitionsource · 6 months
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AMBITION “Living Memory” [ 4.11 ]♮PART 1, half 1
RECAP
Over the shot of Isa and Farkle finally, finally having their first kiss:
Josh, voiceover: Previously, on AMBITION…
Last episode alone was a rush of major, life-changing moments -- violations of autonomy (with Justin’s forceful moves on Maya); hail Mary auditions (Vanessa), and the dawn of profound realizations (cue Zay staring at Charlie and suddenly no longer able to run from the truth that he has been, and remains, so irrevocably in love with him). Relationships erupting into excited, bright new starts -- if you’re Isa & Farkle -- while others crumble into resigned, quiet surrender.
Vanessa: Who does it help to pretend like that isn’t how things are? Who are we protecting? The only people we’re going to hurt are ourselves -- and it’s not fair, Zay. To me, or to you. [ with a shaky breath ] So what are we doing?
For every unspoken epiphany, however, there was an equally volcanic confession. Nigel informed his family of his desire to leave NYU and potentially transfer overseas to a less-than-enthusiastic reception…
Nigel: Hell, when I talked about Zay going out for all these touring auditions and stuff, you said it was cool. You said you hoped it worked out for him. Why is it great when he does it, but when I want to try for something more it’s -- Liezel, frazzled: You are not Zay Babineaux!
And Charlie managed to defy even that, finally revealing his true identity to his mother with predictable, yet still tragic, results.
Charlie, desperate: Mom, this isn’t -- I’m still me! I’m still your son -- Eleanor: Don’t say that to me! Stop lying!
In spite of all that, there was some levity… of a sort, as Yindra took an unconventional and truly wild boat ride for the weekend in the aim of making it into the coveted, elite girl group being developed by Jupiter Records. Although she gave it her all, it’s a wonder what might happen next, considering the experience itself -- full of panic attacks, smashed bottles, and catty gossip -- left little insight as to what might happen next. Hollywood might just prove to be more unpredictable than Adams Academy.
Kimmy: Stop, y’all. We’re women supporting women…
Somehow, all of this chaos -- new career moves, new betrayals, and the hard launch of romances new and long-thought-passed -- happened amidst the true universal centerpiece of life and death. For every start, there is an end, and Kenneth Friar finally met his after a long, tiring, and emotionally complex wait. How Lucas and Grace move forward in the aftermath, carrying all that mixed grief, remains to be seen.
Charlie: “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil…”
It’s the circle of life, and as our curtain rises on another episode, it begins again. Every action has an equal opposite reaction; every closed door invites another one to open. What gentle ends and potential new starts await us next -- and what ones came before that brought us to this moment of time in the first place?
If AMBITION has shown us anything so far, it’s that there’s certainly a story beneath every stone just waiting to be turned and told… so as autumn leaves fall in our world and new ones grow in theirs…
Yeah I’ll be singing Hallelujah, whether you like it or not!
End of recap.
INT. L.A. APARTMENT - FARKLE’S BEDROOM - DAY
Sunlight filters in through the curtains, casting the room in a warm glow. It’s still early, so FARKLE MINKUS and ISA DE LA CRUZ have yet to get out of bed.
Even when Isa starts to stir, they’re not in any rush to get moving. They let their eyes flutter open and roll onto their back, looking up at the unfamiliar ceiling. For a long moment, confusion reigns -- where are they again? What are they wearing? How did they end up here?
Then they turn their head to look at Farkle, and it all comes back in an instant.
The letter in a well-worn shared novel. The confessions; the unexpected and new forms of expression. The stuff they did with him -- with their best friend -- that they never believed could happen in real life.
But it did. Somehow, they ended up in bed with Farkle, and based on the fond expression on their face, they wouldn’t change that fact for anything.
He’s still sleeping peacefully, and Isa has no intention of waking him. They’re still drowsy themselves, and have half a mind to just drift back to sleep. They figure they’ll quick check their phone, see the time, and then disappear back into the blissful calm for a little while longer.
The peace doesn’t last.
Upon looking at their phone, Isa discovers they have missed texts. Quite a few, in fact -- one from Dylan, two from Riley. Several from Eric. As soon as they open them and read the messages, they’re wide awake.
Isa: Holy shit.
They sit upright, immediately dialing a number. When someone picks up on the other end, they forget to stay quiet, speaking at full volume and startling Farkle awake next to them.
Isa: Riley? I just saw your texts -- what the fuck is --
Whatever she says on the other end of the line, it leaves Isa gobsmacked. Not that the news is surprising -- they all knew it was coming -- yet it still lands like a bomb anyway. Isa climbs out of bed and gets to their feet, pacing the floor as they listen. Farkle pushes himself upright, still half-asleep but obviously concerned by their behavior.
Farkle: What’s wrong? Is everything -- Isa: [ to Riley ] So he’s dead. [ meeting Farkle’s eyes ] He’s really dead.
Farkle’s eyes widen, matching their somber expression.
INT. L.A. APARTMENT - LATER - DAY
Isa is getting ready to go in a rush, Farkle helping them gather their things. Everything is frantic, neither of them having a second to breathe.
Farkle: The car will get you to Burbank. Do you need me to help with a flight, or -- ? Isa: No. No, uh, Zachary said he’d arrange the plane for me. Since it’s an emergency. Farkle: Okay, good. That’s good.
But they’ve got to go. Like now. It already feels like they’re days late. Farkle zips up Isa’s suitcase and helps carry it to the door where they’re slipping on their backpack.
Farkle: Well, okay, um, text me when you get on the plane. And when you land. Isa: I will. Farkle: And tell Lucas -- well, I feel for him. Let them know if there’s anything I can do -- Isa: Yeah. Yeah, will do.
Isa starts to head out the door, so distracted they don’t even think to say goodbye. Then they seem to remember something, viscerally, doubling back before Farkle shuts the door.
Isa: Wait, wait -- !
Farkle hears them just in time, giving them enough of a chance to slip back through the doorway and pull him into a kiss. Somewhat a goodbye, somewhat a reassurance; a desperate grasp for comfort in the midst of new chaos.
When they pull apart, Isa offers a hasty promise.
Isa: Talk to you later.
Farkle nods, managing a smile in spite of the confusion.
Then Isa is gone, shutting the door behind them. Farkle blankly follows a couple of steps after them, gently pressing his fingers to the cold surface of the door.
He sighs and spins to lean back against it, left in a total daze.
EXT. BURBANK AIRPORT - APRON - DAY
Isa jogs to board the small private jet waiting on the tarmac, the engine humming loudly.
INT. MACNAMARA PLANE - CABIN - DAY
They collapse into their seat, already exhausted, as the pilot informs them they’ll be taking off shortly. Isa goes to buckle their seatbelt and then pulls out their phone, shooting a text to their group chat with Dylan and Riley that they’ll be there ASAP.
It’s only once they’ve begun taxiing that Isa realizes one little detail about their current attire -- they’re still wearing Farkle’s sweater from the night before. Oops.
Pilot, off-screen: All passengers, please prepare for take-off. We’re all clear for departure.
Too late to change now… and honestly, it seems like Isa might find just a bit of comfort in that. They cross their arms and hug themselves lightly, looking out the window at the glaringly blue Los Angeles sky.
EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - DAY
Not so in New York, where an overcast sky paints the city dismally grey even at sunset. A light drizzle leaves a shimmer on the concrete jungle, making it all feel even more monochromatic.
INT. CHARLIE’S APARTMENT - DAY
On the television, a local weather report notes that the cloudy, rainy weather is set to hang overhead for the next couple of weeks.
But no one is paying much attention to the television. CHARLIE GARDNER is half-eyeing it, but he’s more so listening to RILEY MATTHEWS converse quietly with ASHER GARCIA and DYLAN ORLANDO, who finally made it down from Rochester in the last few hours. When there’s an urgent knock at the door, Charlie is the one to answer it.
Isa is on the other side, still loaded down with their bags as they came straight from the airport. Charlie exchanges a weak smile with them and offers to get their things off their hands, giving Isa the chance to greet the others.
They don’t say much -- what is there to say -- but Isa does accept a tight hug from Dylan. When they let go, he does hesitate on their new yet vaguely familiar sweater, but opts not to comment.
Isa breaks the quiet first, glancing around to make sure they’re not missing the obvious before asking what’s on their mind.
Isa: Is he here?
EXT. CHARLIE’S APARTMENT - FIRE ESCAPE - DAY
LUCAS JAMES FRIAR is alone, hiding out on the cramped fire escape outside their apartment even with the drizzle. He has his arms wrapped around his knees, pulled in close on himself. His expression is blank, empty, which is almost more telling than if he seemed outright emotional.
Moments later, the window creaks open. Lucas doesn’t move as Isa climbs onto the fire escape to join him, settling down across from him and mirroring his posture.
He doesn’t acknowledge them. They don’t expect him to. They don’t need to say anything -- they used to do this routine all the time, back in the day. The quiet is fine.
They’re there. That’s what matters. And right now, after what’s just happened, it matters more than ever.
EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - DAY
A newspaper lands backside up on the doorstep of a home in the Quincy High neighborhood, already smudging slightly from the rain. The bottom right corner of the visible page becomes our focus, as we ease to get a better look.
The obituaries. There, prominently featured, is a black and white photograph of Kenneth Friar.
Community mourns a beloved coach, teacher, and father Kenneth James Friar 1981 - 2022
The rain starts to pick up, splattering on the paper and causing the ink to run. As Kenneth’s image starts to blur and blend, a distant drum line picks up… then it grows more prominent, as if it’s marching closer…
EXT. TEXAS HIGH SCHOOL - FOOTBALL FIELD - FLASHBACK - NIGHT
That’s because it basically is -- marching, that is.
Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Tusk” as performed by USC Trojan Marching Band || Instrumental
We’ve been transported back in time, smack dab into the middle of a high energy, high enthusiasm football game. Bleacher stands are packed on both sides; the high school marching band is getting folks hype. Cheerleaders are hollering and doing their choreography, with frenzied pom-pom movements and cheerful chants that the people in the stands echo. The outfits are delightfully mid-90s, and there is no rain in the sky here.
Suffice to say, it’s a far cry from the arts-centric, modern world of Adams we’ve grown used to.
That being said, it doesn’t seem like everyone’s cup of tea there either. In the shadows of the bleachers, a girl watches uncertainly, hovering just out of sight and getting a good look at the crowds without letting herself be seen. She’s petite, with ash blond hair plaited over her shoulder and a shy disposition. The whole scene seems just a bit too loud, too overwhelming for her. While she’s got on a cute sundress, you can hardly tell, as she’s hidden behind an oversized denim jacket that she’s practically swimming in.
It’s a younger Grace Friar, or as she was once known, GRACE KINSLEY (16). And before she was stuck in New York, living the non-life she is now, she was a teenager just like our mains.
The game continues out on the field, giving the cheerleaders the chance to reset and grab some water. This is when one of them catches Grace lingering by the bleachers, brightening and grabbing her attention with a wave. She enthusiastically gestures her over to the fence, and after a moment, Grace reluctantly leaves the sidelines and comes to meet her.
The cheerleader who greets her is full of bubbly charm, tall even as a teenager with a twinkle of mischief in her eyes. She has deep red hair, as fiery as her personality, only tamed right now by necessity into a tight ponytail. Her grin makes up for it, though. This is RACHEL MCGUIRE (16).
She bounces on her feet as Grace approaches, reaching over the chainlink to give her a hug once she reaches the fence.
Rachel: You came! I can’t believe it. Grace: Yes, against my better judgment. Rachel: Oh, wah wah. You are so prosaic. Grace: Did you just pick that one up from the thesaurus today? I don’t think you’re using it right. Rachel: Maaaybe. But whatever, I’m just so glad you’re here! Isn’t it fun? Don’t you just love the energy? Grace: It is… something. All right.
Rachel rolls her eyes. Even if she isn’t going to convert her best friend to the wonderful ways of school spirit, she got her to come to at least one game this year, so she’ll consider that a win.
Rachel: And you’re coming to the party, right? It’s going to be so crunk.
Grace wrinkles her nose. That sounds like the last thing she’d rather do… this scene is already raucous enough. But Rachel senses her hesitation and before she can even say no, the redhead gives her a signature pout, signaling she’s not going to let this drop.
Rachel: Come on, please? Just once. For me. Grace: I don’t know… Rachel: Just for an hour. For thirty minutes. Hell, if you walk in and last five minutes, I swear I will stop asking to copy your English homework. [ taking her hands ] Gracie, it’s our junior year. I want you to experience one party before we graduate and become decrepit old people. Cheerleader: Rachel, come on! We need to get ready for the pyramid! Rachel: Lay off, Jessica! [ back to Grace ] Pleeease?
Well… when she looks at her like that, how can she say no? Grace’s turn to roll her eyes, but she can’t help but smile as she caves and agrees. Rachel jumps with glee and claps their hands together.
When Rachel turns to focus back on her squadmates, something catches her eye on the field.
A couple of football players are looking at them. Two of the cute seniors, the taller of whom is definitely eyeing Grace behind her.
Delightful. Rachel’s eyes widen with excitement, and she leans back to get Grace’s attention again.
Rachel: Gracie. That guy is totally looking at you. Grace: Huh? [ with a slight frown ] Shut up. No he isn’t. Rachel: Yes he so is. I saw it. Oh my God, imagine, you come to your first football game and walk away with suitors? Talk about proving me right that you need to get out more often. Grace: No -- that’s not -- shut up. [ crossing her arms ] They’re not even looking over here. He’s looking at the game. Rachel: The game is on time-out. And he was definitely looking at you. Grace: Doubtful. Maybe he thought I was someone else. Rachel: Is it so impossible to believe that -- Jessica: Rachel! 
God, Jessica, could you chillax! Rachel groans, telling Grace they’ll pick this back up later. Grace seems grateful for the escape, gesturing Rachel on her way. She does a little mocking pom-pom move.
Grace: Stay balanced.
Rachel sticks her tongue out at her, then jogs to go join the other cheerleaders. Grace hangs by the fence for a moment longer, taking in the hectic scenery all around her… certainly more her best friend’s domain than her own…
And then she sees it, too. When she looks towards the field at the players, as they get ready for their next play, the left tackle on their team glances in her direction -- and seems to look directly at her.
She doesn’t know him. He doesn’t know her. But his blue eyes are like lightning, even all the way from there… and when he smiles slightly a second later, thunder rattles Grace’s bones.
Well, that’s enough being present and seen for one night. If only that was all. Grace whips around and makes a beeline back for the bleachers, a flush rising up her cheeks. She glances back over her shoulder only once the next play has started and there’s no chance he’ll still be looking at her.
In the rush of movement, all she can make out is the bright white “F” starting the lettering on the back of his football jersey.
Then he blocks an offense maneuver from the opposing team, and the crowd in the stands goes nuts around her, totally dominating the soundscape. The horns of “Tusk” blare loudly --
INT. HOUSE PARTY - FLASHBACK - NIGHT
And become the opening notes of an iconic party banger, playing through the tinny speakers available to the high school teens of the nineties.
Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Girls Just Want To Have Fun” as performed by Cyndi Lauper || Instrumental
The mood is jubilant at the afterparty for the game, as it appears the home team carried victory. At least, that’s the impression you get as you watch the crowd of players hoot and chant for each other in the living room and chug down celebratory cans of beer.
At the same time, the cheerleaders are having a toast of their own, all raising their red solo cups and taking a shot of whatever their vodka of choice is. Rachel has dragged Grace into this circle as well, who dutifully sips her red solo cup along with the rest but with markedly less confidence.
Once the group disperses a bit, Rachel turns back to her friend and reemphasizes how glad she is that she decided to come out for once. She’s now let her cheer ponytail down and is fluffing out her hair, which looks even more vibrant red in the mood lighting of the party. Instinctively, she reaches out and starts to affectionately nitpick Grace’s hair too.
Grace: Don’t waste your effort. I’m never going to look like you. Rachel: You’re right. That is, I could never be as effortlessly adorable as you are.
She gives Grace a boop on the nose.
Grace: Okay, so, you’re already clearly drunk. Rachel: Am not. Not all of us are lightweights like you. I just happen to know what I’m talking about, which is that you are beautiful and smart and now that you’ve escaped your self-inflicted dungeon of imprisonment -- Grace: I don’t think being an introvert is -- Rachel: The whole world is going to see it too.
Rachel nudges Grace into taking off her armor of denim, allowing her cute dress to see the light of day. She helps her tie the jacket around her waist.
Grace: Maybe, but I’m not sure that’ll do much to cover up the whole… being boring and smelling like hay because I live on a farm thing. Rachel: All part of the allure. [ off her head shake ] I mean, mister left tackle certainly already noticed…
Oh, not this again… Grace grows more shy, pushing some stray hair behind her ear.
Grace: Again, you’re exaggerating. Rachel: Am not. Grace: Why would he even -- he was probably looking at you. You were right in front of me. We don’t even know each other. Rachel: As if that matters? In this case, it really doesn’t. He doesn’t know most people. He’s that senior that transferred over from Claremont. Which is good, because our last left tackle was so shit. But anyway, knowing someone or not does not preclude one from wanting to know someone. Which he does. Want to know you. Grace: How could you possibly know that? Rachel: Because I know things. Because I’ve had three boyfriends, and they all have to start somewhere. [ glancing over her shoulder ] And because he’s looking our way right now.
Rachel’s smile is downright overjoyed. Grace frowns and looks over her shoulder.
She wasn’t lying. The left tackle from earlier is chatting with the quarterback and another player, easy smile on his face… and he keeps glancing over at them.
At her.
Grace whips back around, all levity gone from her expression.
Grace: Oh my God. Rachel: I told you. I told you! Grace: Shut up. Shut up. It’s not -- they’re just looking. It’s not like… it’s not like he’s over here. Rachel: True… for now.
Rachel’s smile widens. She nonchalantly pushes away from the counter and traipses her way towards the boys, Grace watching her in mild horror.
Grace: [ in a whisper ] Rach. Rachel! Come back!
Rachel tosses her a wink over her shoulder, then flips her hair to prime volume as she saunters over to join the footballers. She begins to chat up the quarterback, complimenting him on the excellent win…
And giving mister left tackle a wide open playing field. Grace curses to herself and spins back to face the drinks on the counter, no clue what to do with herself. He probably won’t come over here. Why would he? Rachel is right in front of him now -- he’ll probably become enamored with her. Most men do. Plus, it would be a lot of effort to walk over here and talk up a wallflower. She’s worrying over nothing.
Even so, she feels compelled to seek out some courage. Grace reaches for the vodka bottle and quickly pours herself another shot, downing it compulsively before she can regret it.
Lo and behold, Rachel was right on the money. Grace swallows the liquor and grimaces at the burn in her throat, but she pulls herself back together right before another figure comes over to join her.
Left Tackle: Not bad. Don’t think I could down one of those that fast. Willing to pour me one, and we’ll find out?
Grace braves meeting his eyes, getting a better look at him. And boy, once she does, it is hard to look away. He was striking across the field, but he’s absolutely mesmerizing up close. Tall, well-muscled, with sun-kissed skin and sandy blonde hair. It’s clean cut on the sides but a bit longer on top, Freddie Prinze Jr. style, now fully visible without the football helmet.
Then there’s the eyes. Oh, those eyes.
Grace clears her throat, then does a little shrug. Somehow, she manages to come off coy, despite how her knees feel like jelly.
Grace: I don’t know. Probably not a good idea. I don’t want to be responsible for taking down our prized new left tackle.
He laughs, and the sound makes Grace crack a smile without even trying. And if that wasn’t enough, his smile is absolutely killer.
Left Tackle: Damn, if I’m going to be taken down by the cute little thing by the bar, I think my football career is in trouble. The offense on the other team ain’t got nothin’ on you, huh?
Grace shrugs again, figuring saying nothing is wiser than whatever stupid stuff might come out of her mouth. She’s never been great with words -- spoken ones, at least.
Thankfully, this seems to intrigue him rather than put him off. He leans against the counter.
Left Tackle: Well, if I’ve met my match, I’d at least like to know the name of the girl who is destined to take me down. Can I wrangle that much?
Hm, smooth… Grace contemplates for a long moment…
Grace: Grace.
Pretty. The left tackle smiles brighter, obviously thinking so himself, before nodding.
Left Tackle: Grace. Like the sound of that. [ holding out a hand ] I’m Kenneth.
Grace holds his gaze, taking him in, before letting her eyes drift down to his outstretched hand.
After a second, she takes it.
Cue title sequence.
EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - DAY
The rain continues, creating puddles on the grey sidewalks. A fresh but soggy newspaper left on the doorstep of a different apartment building remarks on the relentless torrent of dreary weather while also giving a subtle nod to the passage of time. Lettering onscreen emphasizes it moments later…
Three weeks later.
From there, the camera pans upward, heading to an upper floor.
INT. CHEY APARTMENT - NIGEL’S BEDROOM - DAY
NIGEL CHEY finishes zipping up his bag, ensuring it’s sealed tight before he ventures out into the rain. Droplets patter against his window as he secures his windbreaker.
He tosses a glance towards the window, obviously not thrilled about it. Considering how unenthused he is about NYU these days, it’s all too tempting to just blow it off and stay in.
But the last thing he needs is a drop in his grades. Not after the hell that was last semester -- and if he does want any chance of transferring, anywhere at all, he’ll want to keep his academic standing above water. So he shoulders his bag with a sigh and heads out.
INT. CHEY APARTMENT - DAY
When Nigel emerges from his bedroom, his family notices immediately. They notice, but no one says anything, not sure how to break the tension.
It’s evident this cold shoulder has been going on for a while. ERNESTO CHEY exchanges a look with LIEZEL CHEY, tacitly encouraging conversation, but she keeps her mouth shut. Even if she did want to speak, she surely wouldn’t know what to say. REYNA CHEY watches the silent movement from her usual armchair, more riveted by it than whatever pathetic soap is on TV.
Nigel pretends not to notice, for once not feeling like the one who needs to placate and keep the peace. He could walk right out the door like he has for weeks now, but Ernesto manages to get a word in before he can disappear.
Ernesto: Quite wet outside today. Bad weather. Nigel: … yeah. Liezel: Be careful getting to NYU. It will be slippery. I don’t want you to get sick.
Nigel chooses not to acknowledge his mother’s comment. The silence stings, but Liezel says nothing else, dipping her head down to her work at the kitchen counter.
Ernesto: Are you sure you want to walk? I could drop you off. Nigel: I have my coat.
He gestures to his windbreaker indicatively. Hard to argue with that. Ernesto reminds Nigel of when dinner is, and he claims he’ll try to be there, but as of the last few days there’s no guarantee that’ll be the case. For better or worse, Nigel is demonstrating he can be self-sufficient when he wants to be.
Even if no one else seems happy with it. Nigel opens the door, Liezel braving one more meek comment.
Liezel: Have a nice day.
Nigel doesn’t respond, shutting the door behind him before she can finish the sentiment. It obviously hurts, though Liezel does a decent job of stuffing it down. It seems Nigel got his knack for compartmentalizing from somewhere.
Reyna, on the other hand, is less than pleased to see it. She frowns to herself, shaking her head slightly as Ernesto and Liezel awkwardly return to their business.
EXT. JUPITER RECORDS - DAY
In natural contrast to the eastern downpour, the sunshine is still relentless over in Los Angeles. It glares brightly against the glassy exterior of the Jupiter Records building, reflecting in all directions.
INT. JUPITER RECORDS - MEETING ROOM - DAY
The mood is decidedly more jubilant here, too, as the EXECUTIVES excitedly inform the gathered young women that they are the official finalists for the coveted five spots in the label’s girl group project. After the retreat and weeks of debate, they’ve narrowed it down to less than ten finalists, six of whom are present in the room with them.
KIMMY PRICE, who looks just thrilled to be included; TABITHA FLORES, who is already impatient to prove herself and tapping her manicured fingers on the surface of the long meeting table they’re seated around. ALEENA SAYYID remains curious but calm, while MADYSIN MAY is busy sitting up on the table and lowkey flirting with the Jupiter representatives present. RONICA LEWIS watches the rest of them wild mild interest, keeping her game face on.
And YINDRA AMINO. She’s managed to squeak her way into final consideration, though what exactly made each of them pass the test remains a secret. So for now she’s trying to remain agreeable and somewhat aloof, holding her few cards close to the vest.
But even this close to success, the pressure doesn’t let up. Because now that they’re this close, the scrutiny becomes even more intense, as the process now requires extra assessment to develop the ultimate configuration of the girls they have left. This means more chemistry tests, more vocal mixes, and any number of personal questioning while they build out the perfect presentation of girl group excellence.
Just peachy. Yindra manages a smile and does her best to hide her nerves, nodding along as the executives lay out expectations for this final step.
INT. LUCAS’S APARTMENT - DAY
The Friar apartment has a strange new energy to it. Although it looks nearly the same, just with one less body sometimes occupying the space, something about it has irreversibly shifted. It feels simultaneously heavier yet lighter; shaded with tension yet unburdened with fresh relief. Like although weight still hangs heavy overhead, the space is no longer perpetually holding its breath.
INT. LUCAS’S APARTMENT - KITCHEN - DAY
The same seems to be the case for GRACE FRIAR. Although her features are etched with grief, and the bags under her eyes indicate more than a few restless nights in her recent history, there’s a serenity to her that wasn’t there before. She’s tired, but at ease, and she walks the floors of her apartment without dreading every creak under her step.
There’s miles to go before she sleeps, though. Kenneth’s passing may have happened in a moment, but the aftermath feels neverending. So much paperwork to handle, inquiries to follow through on. The man may be dead, but he was sure to leave things for her to clean up after him.
That, and the reminders never cease. She goes through the mail she just collected, looking for legal documents but finding more than a couple letters from well-wishers instead. Old friends from high school or Austin sending their condolences, mourning a great man and expressing their shared grief.
Folks who clearly kept up with Kenneth, but sure didn’t make an effort to stay connected with her.
More than that, they have questions. When will the funeral service be? Will there be one? If there’s financial straits preventing it, they’re happy to contribute. Kenneth was such a wonderful man, after all, it would be a damn shame for them not to have the chance to celebrate his life together. After three weeks, they just have to wonder… and if there will be one, they want to do everything in their power to clear their calendars to be there.
They’re not the only one with these questions. Grace herself has them -- one of the many things keeping her up at night -- but pulling something together has been harder than she anticipated. She knows she could find the help, of course…
But it’s not just about her. Grace places the mail on the kitchen counter and doubles back, heading across the living area to the other end of the apartment.
INT. LUCAS’S APARTMENT - LUCAS’S BEDROOM - DAY
As they attempt to downsize and sort through Kenneth’s belongings -- and he certainly had the most things to possess out of the three of them -- Lucas has taken on the task of going through the items stuffed into the closet in his already closet-sized bedroom.
But he’s not making very quick work of it. It’s more like pulling teeth, Lucas seated against the doorframe of the closet and mainly sitting in thoughtless silence. He’ll occasionally pull some random item out of the darkness, turn it over in his hands and try to find meaning in it, before ultimately chucking it into the cardboard box they’ve deemed trash or back into the depths when he can’t decide where it belongs. More often than not, he’s been aiming back into the closet.
Grace arrives in the doorway, gently knocking to get his attention. He stops staring into space and meets her eyes.
Grace: How is it going in here? Lucas: [ with a shrug ] Fine.
Given the trash box only has about one more item in it than the last time Grace checked on him, that’s likely. But she doesn’t point that out, treading cautiously towards what she actually wanted to discuss.
Grace: I’ve gotten more letters. From friends in Austin. They send their best. Lucas: Good for them. Grace: Many of them are asking about services. If we’ve got a date yet. [ a beat ] If we’ll have a date at all…
Lucas doesn’t have the answers, and it’s obvious from his expression that he doesn’t want any. He clenches his jaw and tilts his head back against the doorframe. Grace would like to do the same, but she pushes through and addresses it head on.
Grace: I think we need to decide if we’re going to do this. We can’t keep putting it off. Lucas: Okay? Sounds like you’ve decided then. Grace: I haven’t. I want us to be able to figure it out together. I know it’s -- it’s complicated. But people are asking, and three weeks is quite a long time after someone -- Lucas: Why the hell do I care what “people” think? It’s not their stupid family. [ tossing something into the trash box ] If they care so bad, why don’t they throw a party themselves?
Fair enough. But not helpful. Grace crosses her arms, trying not to bristle at his tone.
Grace: I get that this is weird. I know. You think I don’t know just as well as you do? [ touché ] But we need to act on it. We need to do something. Even if it’s just to get it out of the way, to allow everyone to move on. Including us.
Lucas’s jaw twitches, but he doesn’t argue. He doesn’t look at her either, but the lack of a pithy comment is better than usual lately.
Grace: We can’t just stay in this limbo forever. It doesn’t help anyone. Least of all you. So how about we just… do it. Go through the motions, get through it, and then we can put it to rest. For good. Lucas: [ under his breath ] What a perfectly normal way to talk about burying your husband…
Yes, but when has anything about this family ever been normal? Even so, Grace is clearly put off by the comment. She knows this is hard for him -- she has no doubt about it -- but he seems to forget she lived it all too. In fact, she lived much, much more of it than him.
She doesn’t say any of that, though. If he’s going to act like a kid about it, then she’ll do her best to buck up and act like the adult in the room.
Grace: I’m going to move forward with funeral preparations. Jack and Eric said they would help us with the logistics, so I’m reaching out tonight. [ a beat ] You can be involved, or not, that’s up to you. I get it either way. But I can’t do nothing anymore. Lucas: Okay. Whatever. [ deadpan ] You’re the parent.
Just in case she forgot. Since their situation has been so fucked up, and convoluted, and he basically raised himself. Since she’s never seemed very good at being one before, guess now is as fine a time as any.
It’s almost like he’s fourteen again. Like he has so much anger, so much pain, and he doesn’t know who actually deserves it, so Grace gets a heaping share. All the nuance of their world has died with Kenneth, and now it’s just the two of them left to sort through it and remember how to live with it all.
Grace is giving all the patience she has left towards him, but God, if it isn’t hard sometimes. She chooses to hold her tongue and steps away, leaving Lucas in the quiet once again.
He doesn’t seem thrilled with how that went either, but holding everything together is taking up enough of his mental power right now. He swallows the ache in his throat and sniffs, reaching for another pointless object in the darkness.
INT. L.A. APARTMENT - DAY
Some of that darkness lingers with MAYA HART, who looks about as tired as Grace. She’s seated at the kitchen table but isn’t eating her breakfast, instead staring blankly out the balcony door towards the bright Los Angeles sun.
Her shine is dulled enough that Farkle notices, remarking on it when he exits his bedroom with his backpack and finds her at the table. He jokes about catching her in a rare pre-glam moment, which she just manages to remember to smile at.
Farkle: Honestly, I’m more impressed I managed to catch you at all. I feel like you and I have just been missing one another constantly since you got back from your retreat. Melissa and Justin must really be working you hard for the EP. Maya: Um, yeah. Yeah, it’s just been… super busy.
She’s a good enough actress that her delivery is just believable enough -- at least with someone as equally consumed with their own emotional baggage as Farkle. That’s what Maya wants to discuss anyway, using Isa as a convenient route to get the topic as far away from her and Global Beat as possible. Once they gloss over any updates from the Friar front…
Maya: Isa tell you all that? Farkle: No, Riley. Isa’s been… I’m sure they’re overwhelmed. And busy. Just with everything going on with Lucas. Maya: Right. They did leave in a pretty big hurry. [ a beat ] I couldn’t help but notice the couch was all clear when I came back though. That weekend. Farkle: Oh… yeah. Well. You know how I like to… keep things clean. And tidy. Maya: Mhm. It certainly didn’t look like anyone had slept there the night before, though. Let alone anyone six feet tall. Farkle: [ clearing his throat ] Yeah. Well. Isa said I should just share the bed with them. That it was stupid to be on the couch when we’ve been friends for -- you know, a long time. Maya: Right… Farkle: And it’s comfortable. Casual. We were just being, you know, cool about it. Maya: Of course. So must have been a good weekend, then? Farkle: Uh, yeah. Yeah, I’d say… yeah. Maya: Good vibes. Chill times. No big news to report. Farkle: Uh, nope. Yeah. Yeah… no, yeah. Maya: Right.
For such a good actor in his own right, Farkle really is terrible at being nonchalant. Maya can see right through him, and it’s the first time in days that she’s felt compelled to crack a smile. He meets her eyes, and she simply quirks an eyebrow knowingly.
That’s all it takes. Farkle caves, spilling into a hasty explanation about everything that happened with Isa. Partially just because he can’t seem to help himself, but also because it’s clear he has been dying to tell someone. With the way things ended so abruptly, with Isa having to rush off to help Lucas, it feels like he’s been living his life on pause for the last three weeks.
Maya listens attentively, with mild amusement, letting him stammer out all of the spinning thoughts in his frazzled head until he manages to wear himself out.
Maya: Wow. Farkle: So now it’s like -- I mean, I’m trying to be cool about it. And I am. This is a serious time, and I want to respect that and give them all the time they need. I get it. But I’m also like… I mean, what am I supposed to do with myself? We didn’t really get to talk about it, and like -- I had sex with them. One of my best friends. Maya: Ew. But yeah, crazy. Farkle: And I don’t want to like make a big deal out of it, or be insane, but how am I supposed to not be crazy about that? Am I insane for wanting like… I don’t know, a shred of insight as to what they’re thinking about the whole thing? [ hiding his head in his hands ] For the love of God, am I ever going to stop being a disaster? Maya: Sources say no. But that’s okay, that’s my favorite thing about you.
In any case, she understands why he feels so wound up. If something that big shifted between the two of them, it would make her anxious too. He’s valid, but she can only hope Isa will have the sense of mind to let him know what they’re feeling about it sooner rather than later.
On the other hand, she can’t help but find the whole thing just a little bit funny.
Maya: I’m just trying to figure out when exactly you became such a hot commodity. Like, Zay? Sure, he’s always been hot shit -- and wouldn’t let anyone forget it. But you, my darling, baby giraffe Farkle Minkus? When did you suddenly become such a whore?
Farkle groans, shoving Maya’s elbow and making her laugh. Although the comment is in jest, Farkle feels the need to defend himself.
Farkle: It’s not like that. This wasn’t just… I mean, yes, okay, hooking up with Charlie was one thing. Maya: Still insane, by the way. Farkle: But this isn’t the same. It’s Isa. It’s not… it’s always been different with Isa.
The sentiment is said so delicately for how it may as well be stating the obvious. But Maya doesn’t rib him for that. Instead, she softens, eyeing him with equally gentle fondness.
Maya: I know.
She may have been onto it even before either of them, in fact. She knows Farkle has long carried this torch -- and how fragile his heart has been as of late. As long as he’s closer to being happy, that’s all she really cares about.
For now, though, he has to go to class. When he asks if Maya will be heading back to the studio today, she freezes momentarily, before expertly deflecting. She claims she’s been doing some last-minute song-smithing here, and that her producers gave her the all-clear to hermit away until she’s got it polished how she likes. So if he sees her milling around the apartment more than usual, he shouldn’t think anything of it.
Never mind the real reason she can’t bear the thought of stepping foot back inside Global Beat. If Farkle never finds out -- if no one ever does -- then all the better.
INT. NYU - THEATER - DAY
A matinee production of Ghost is currently rolling, EVAN SCOTT and his co-star playing the Whoopi Goldberg role occupying the stage. The show must go on, and it certainly is, the world inside the theater walls proceeding as if nothing has changed.
Which explains why Riley is mentally anywhere but onstage. She’s waiting in the wings, due to reemerge under the lights in the next scene, but her focus is elsewhere. She’s pacing the darkness and engrossed by her phone, keeping up a text conversation with Lucas. He’s given her the update about Grace wanting to move forward with services, so there’s a lot to discuss and unpack.
Riley tries to type out a thoughtful reply, but Lucas beats her to her next message.
“Don’t worry about it. Probably easier to just talk in person”
Which is likely true, but also feels like a convenient way to nudge confronting the feelings as long as possible. Riley hastily deletes the paragraph she had typed before, instead agreeing and assuring him that she’ll be there as soon as this performance wraps up.
On stage, someone repeats their line more forcefully, but Riley still doesn’t notice. It’s not until a stagehand nudges her and informs her she’s missed her cue that she pulls it back together, quickly pocketing her phone. From her perch on a stool in the shadows, IMOGEN LEE snorts.
Imogen: Damn, Riley. If you’re basically out to lunch, I can take over. I have been studying my lines…
Riley so does not have the bandwidth to deal with petty understudies right now. She ignores Imogen and takes a deep breath, doing her best to shove the real world from her mind and get back into character.
As she steps out onto the stage --
INT. NYU - DRESSING ROOM - LATER - DAY
Riley finishes stuffing her bag in a hurry, still half in costume and make-up as she rushes to leave. The show has just barely wrapped up curtain call, but she doesn’t have time to waste.
INT. NYU - BACKSTAGE HALLWAY - DAY
As she steps out of the dressing room, she nearly runs into Evan, who catches her arms before she can topple over. Once he confirms she’s all right, he asks where she’s running off to.
Evan: Auditorium is this way. You know Hill is going to have notes. She -- Riley: She always does. Yeah. It’s not that I don’t want to hear them, I just… I really have somewhere else I need to be. [ checking her phone ] Did you feel like the orchestra was moving at the speed of sludge today? We’re like twenty minutes later than usual. Evan: Uh, no. I was more concerned with remembering the right notes.
He says it playfully, but there is a slight edge to his tone. Imogen isn’t the only one who’s noticed Riley seems less than focused -- and now it’s starting to affect the production.
Still, Evan approaches it more tactfully than their peer. He lowers his voice to give them more privacy, waiting until a couple of their castmates pass by and disappear through the stage doors to speak.
Evan: You missed your cue. Before intermission. Riley: Yeah. Yeah, I know, sorry. Evan: All good. It’s just a college musical. I just wanted to check… like, is everything okay? You haven’t seemed quite like yourself.
No, Evan. No it’s not. She doesn’t have time to be there for her friends who are facing some of the biggest auditions of their lives, nor have basically any involvement in her roommate adjusting to letting their father into their world. She can’t be there for her friend who just ended a toxic relationship, or help her candidate jump into his hard-won new role.
There’s just been a major death in her may-as-well-be family that has shattered all sense of normalcy, and she doesn’t have nearly enough time to help pick up the pieces. There’s just not enough her to go around.
But none of that is his business, so she shrugs.
Riley: Yes. Yeah, it’s just… 
She really doesn’t have the words to express it. After another wordless head shake, she settles for little.
Riley: I’ve got a lot on my mind.
Clearly, if she’s forgetting when she’s supposed to enter stage right. Before Evan can respond, she’s distracted again by her phone, buzzing with another text from Lucas.
“Don’t bother. Don’t want to burn you out between shows. It’s all pointless anyway”
The frown on her face signals this isn’t the kind of reply she wants from him. Evan eyes her curiously, but wisely decides not to dig deeper right now. He opts to stick with the things he can address.
Evan: Well, whatever you’ve got going on, don’t be any later. I can take any notes Hill has for you -- aside from the imminent comment about your late entrance. Riley: Of course. That would be great, Evan, thank you. I owe you big time.
He nods, offering a smile and leaving her be. He glances back at her over his shoulder as he steps back into the auditorium, watching her become absorbed in her phone yet again.
Another text from Lucas.
“Just go home. Talk later”
Her boyfriend is going through what may very well be the biggest emotional clusterfuck of his life, and she can’t be there for him. Not the way she wants to be. The longer she’s gone, the easier it is for him to do this. To pull away; to recede into himself and bottle it all up. To be crushed under it, when this is precisely the moment he has to power through. She hates that she can’t be there, when all she wants to do is be there by his side to endure it together.
There’s not enough time -- and she dreads the possibility that she might just lose him too.
Song Cue ♫ ♪ “I Have Nothing” as performed by Whitney Houston || Performed by Riley Matthews
Although she’s been killing it on the stage, nothing beats a Riley performance that’s coming authentically from the soul. As she walks the backstage halls of the theater, singing her solo soliloquy, it feels more captivating than any professional staging or bright stage lights could fabricate.
That always goes doubly when she’s singing about Lucas. The lyrics are more than fitting. In the same vein as “On My Own,” “My Man,” and “Better,” no kind of performance demonstrates more of Riley’s range than the ones straight from her heart -- and at this point, the two are one in the same.
Lucas is her heart. And if he’s breaking, she’s broken too.
Don't walk away from me I have nothing, nothing, nothing If I don't have you
Once Riley reaches the end of the hallway, back in front of the stage doors, the camera pans away and makes her feel smaller and further away. Before the key change can hit around 3:05, her vocals start to distort, sounding far away and bleeding into Whitney Houston’s original track --
EXT. RURAL COUNTRY ROAD - FLASHBACK - DAY
Which becomes diegetic, playing through the chunky over-the-ear headphones of Grace’s portable CD player. She’s on her walk home from the bus stop, her family farm a good mile out from where the closest public school bus drops off.
Grace doesn’t seem bothered by the walk. It’s one of her favorite times of the day, actually, time to be alone with nature and get lost in her thoughts. With a well-worn pair of cowboy boots and the autumn breeze, there’s no better chance to find a second to breathe.
Only today, it seems, she’s not alone. She frowns slightly when the song starts to end and she hears gravel crunching behind her -- someone driving along the dirt road. It doesn’t get much use on a typical afternoon. She glances over her shoulder.
An older but very cool blue Ford pick-up is ambling down the street. She expects it to pass on by -- maybe doing business with the Carmichaels down the hill -- but it slows as it approaches her. For a moment, she tenses, not sure whether she should be wary…
Until she recognizes the face behind the wheel. Beautiful eyes, and that smile that could start wars.
Kenneth. He pulls up beside her and rolls down the passenger side window, offering her one of those coveted smiles. She removes her headphones, looping them around her neck.
Kenneth: Howdy. Fancy meeting you here. Grace: I live here. Kenneth: In the middle of the road?
Grace blushes, already flustered just from his attention. They’ve been chatting a bit for weeks now, definitely flirting here and there, yet he doesn’t seem to lose any effect on her. It’s almost annoying. She pushes some hair behind her ear.
Grace: You know what I meant. Kenneth: Sure did. That’s why when my parents surprised me with this baby this afternoon, and I got to take it for my first drive, I thought hey -- what better place to cruise for a while?
So he came right to see her. Grace doesn’t know what to do with that information, so she breezes past it.
Grace: It’s nice. I like the color. Kenneth: I know. You love blue.
Yeah… she does. After a beat, Kenneth runs a hand through his hair.
Kenneth: Can I give you a ride? Grace: I’m used to the walk. It’s okay. Kenneth: I ain’t asking if you can handle it. Knowing you, I’m sure you can. I’m asking if you want a ride.
Well. That is different, isn’t it. Does she hold out her resilience, stay sane and keep walking the path of safe, familiar independence… or does she get in the car with him?
Somehow, the choice is easy. Grace takes a deep breath and steps off the grass, approaching the car. Kenneth’s expression is utterly delighted as he leans across the console to unlock the passenger door.
She climbs up into the seat and exchanges a shy smile with him. 
EXT. KINSLEY FAMILY FARM - FLASHBACK - DAY
Kenneth pulls up outside Grace’s home, putting the truck in park. Directly in front of them is the farmhouse, a modest but charming dwelling surrounded by acres of green. Several dozen feet away, the red wood of a barn is visible, and adjacent another dozen feet, a roomy stable with a fenced-in riding pasture.
INT. KENNETH’S TRUCK - FLASHBACK - DAY
Although there’s nothing holding her back, Grace doesn’t immediately get out of the car. There’s something nice, and a bit enthralling, about sitting in his passenger seat.
Grace: Thanks for the ride. Kenneth: ‘Course. Any time. Grace: Don’t make promises like that. You’re gonna end up a chauffeur before you know it. Kenneth: Hey, if it means getting to spend a little more time with you, then I’m game.
The compliment comes out effortlessly smooth. So damn charming… Grace can feel the blush crawling up her cheeks.
She flushes even further when Kenneth takes a long moment to take her in, gazing at her with a soft shade to his features. After a moment, he starts to lean closer…
As per usual, Grace panics and deflects. She interrupts his move with conversation, letting words spill out of her without thinking.
Grace: What are you up to for the rest of the afternoon?
Kenneth hesitates. The slightest edge of frustration creeps into his features, but it ebbs away quickly and is replaced with amused fondness. There is something about this little cat-and-mouse game they have going on that is all the more enjoyable. It’s like the more she plays hard to get, just dancing outside the perimeter of his obvious interest, the more appealing she becomes -- whether Grace is doing it intentionally or not.
Kenneth: Probably practice. Some weight-training -- coach says I need to gain another five-to-ten to maximize my impact on the field. Grace: [ sure, she totally gets what that means ] Uh-huh. Kenneth: So the usual. Football, avoiding homework, ignoring my dad when he tries to grill me about football and/or homework. How about you? Grace: Um… homework. [ off his laugh ] Then maybe some writing, if I have time. Kenneth: What kind of writing? Grace: Just… personal stuff. Silly stuff. Nothing important. Kenneth: You like, an author or something? I didn’t know you were into all that. [ off her shrug ] So when do I get to read your stuff? Grace: Yeah, uh, try never. Kenneth: Oh, come on! Don’t tease me like that --
He reaches out and playfully tugs at her braid, which she giggles at before swatting his hands away. Their hands brush and linger for a moment longer than necessary, before Grace pulls hers back and twiddles with the end of her plait.
Kenneth slouches back in his seat, whistling and shaking his head as he gets another good look at her.
Kenneth: Dang. A bona fide writer. I mean, I knew you were smart and everything, and you’ve got those killer grades in English. But… Grace Kinsley, you truly are something else.
No one has ever said anything like that to her before. No one has ever looked at her like that, the way he is right now. Like she’s actually there rather than invisible -- like there’s something worth seeing.
It’s thrilling, but also terrifying, so Grace feels the sudden instinct to bolt. She offers another shy smile and starts to gather her bag.
Grace: First things first, I have to feed the horses, so. Best get going.
EXT. KINSLEY FAMILY FARM - FLASHBACK - DAY
Grace hops out of the car, slinging her bag over her shoulder. Kenneth looks disappointed to see her go -- and a bit disappointed that his excuse to prolong heading home has run out.
Kenneth: Writer girl, horse girl -- is there anything you don’t do, Kinsley? Grace: Football.
Kenneth barks out a laugh, which earns another smile from her. Kenneth thinks on that, a moment of vulnerability breaking through.
Kenneth: As someone who does, gotta admit, think right now I’d rather be feeding the horses.
The comment surprises Grace. Given how good he is at the game, how much of a king he seems like on the field, she assumed football was naturally his whole world. She never would’ve guessed there was even a hint of conflict hidden beneath that strong veneer.
Somehow, the moment makes her feel the desire to open up too.
Grace: Do you want to see them?
The invitation slips out before she can question it. Kenneth contemplates… then grins.
INT. KINSLEY FAMILY FARM - STABLES - FLASHBACK - DAY
Grace pulls open the door to the stables and enters first, signaling for Kenneth to move quietly. Since he’s new, his presence might unsettle the horses. He playfully mimics her gesture, pretending to zip his lips.
Tellingly, the horses do react to the unfamiliar face. They grow skittish, whinnying in apprehension. Grace shushes them and talks softly as she makes her way further inside, Kenneth hanging back a bit to watch. Although it’s a marvel to see how natural she is with the creatures, he seems a little perturbed by their reaction to him.
Kenneth: Don’t think they like me. Grace: They don’t know you. Like I said, they’re shy around strangers. Kenneth: Fitting. Sounds like someone else I know.
Grace rolls her eyes, petting the nose of one of the ponies rather than responding.
Kenneth: Guess they should work on their socializing skills. How many other people have you brought in to meet them? How’d they fare?
This time, Grace is silent for other reasons. Her expression grows more guarded, and slightly embarrassed. The lack of an answer speaks volumes, though, Kenneth putting it together fast enough.
No one. Grace hasn’t brought anyone else in here.
This is her safe space, a sacred shelter, and somehow he’s managed to find his way inside.
Cautiously, he saunters over to join her by the horses and does his absolute best to be unassuming. Considering he’s a hulking football player with no sense of subtle, it doesn’t work, the horse Grace is currently petting skittering away a bit as he approaches.
Kenneth: Sorry. I’m more trouble than I’m worth. Grace: Don’t say that. Kenneth: Think they’ll ever like me? [ looking at her ] Do I have any chance?
The question feels loaded. Grace meets his eyes.
Grace: You have to earn their trust.
She’ll do her best to help him, if she can. Utilizing her own goodwill with the horse, she lures it forward again, back up to the edge of the pen. She soothingly rubs its nose and then dips her forehead against the flat of its muzzle, Kenneth watching in bewildered fascination.
Once it seems calm enough, she glances his way… then takes his hand, gently guiding it up to brush the horse’s nose.
Cute a moment as that might have been, it doesn’t quite land. Because nope, this dude has not earned its trust, and it’s not playing the same games Grace may be. The horse brays and shuffles backwards again, out from under their hands.
Kenneth: Damn it. Grace: [ with a laugh ] Don’t worry. Just give it time. Kenneth: … so does that mean I’m welcome back here again?
It sure does seem to imply… Grace realizes that, pausing and glancing at their hands. They’ve come to rest on the edge of the gate, hers still laid on top of his tan fingers.
Kenneth doesn’t seem at all opposed to that. In fact, he starts to flip his hand to link their fingers together, but Grace slips away, retreating further into the stables to distract herself with the horse feed.
As much of a tease as she seems intent on being, Kenneth manages to take it well. He swallows his impatience and follows her over to the oat barrels, taking a good look around. An item hanging on the wall above her catches his eye.
Kenneth: What’s that?
Grace follows his gaze, landing on the same sight. It’s a decorative horse shoe, slightly larger-than-scale and made of shimmering blue glass.
Grace: Nothing. Just some art. Kenneth: Well, I don’t believe that. Wouldn’t be hanging in such a high place of honor if it wasn’t special. Grace: It’s in a stable. Kenneth: Which is a place of honor to you. Ain’t that right?
Touché. Grace doesn’t deny that, keeping her eyes on the oat scoop.
Grace: My mama got it for me when I was little. From a local artist in North Carolina, when my parents went. I couldn’t go, stayed with my grandparents, but she knew I was sad about it. I wanted to see the wild horses. So she brought me back the next best thing.
Learning a lot about each other today. Kenneth continues to look at it, absorbing how much it means to her… then lets his gaze drift back to her.
Kenneth: So you were always big on ponies? Or did she just take a lucky guess that you’d be obsessed -- Grace: How did you know my favorite color is blue?
The question slips out unprompted, confusing Kenneth. He raises his eyebrows when she turns to face him, her expression guarded… but delicate too.
Kenneth: What do you mean? Grace: When I saw your truck. I said “I like the color,” and you said you know. That I love blue. Kenneth: … yeah? Is that wrong? Grace: No. It’s right. It’s exactly right. How did you know that? Kenneth, amused: Is that a real question? You told me, Grace.
Once, in some inane conversation in the last few weeks, she must’ve mentioned it. Offhanded, to fill the space, not thinking anything of it herself.
But he heard her. He listened.
Grace: Oh. I don’t remember that. Kenneth: Well, I do. [ a beat ] I remember everything you say.
Oh. Grace’s stomach flips, and that flush returns to her cheeks. She doesn’t turn away from him, but her gaze dips to the floor, not sure if she’s ready to be so seen.
But Kenneth is ready. He’s been ready. He steps closer.
Kenneth: I like listening to you. Grace: I don’t know why. I’m not good at it. Talking. Kenneth: I think you’re dang good at just about everything. Grace: I’m not. I don’t… talk, and I don’t… let people in here -- Kenneth: And yet, here we are. Grace: I don’t let people in. You hang around long enough, you’re gonna figure out why. I’m nothing special. I’m -- I’m just -- Kenneth: Grace.
He’s made it in front of her now, closing the distance between them. Grace has backed up against the feed station, nowhere else to run and hide. Nearby, the horses whinny uncertainly.
With a tender touch, Kenneth reaches and tilts Grace’s chin upward, guiding her into meeting his eyes again. Not allowing her to shy away. This time, she doesn’t pull away.
The space between them grows thinner… Grace has the sense she should slip away, the relentless instinct for self-preservation, but it’s suddenly hazier in the magnetic storm of his grip. They inch closer… and closer… their lips almost brush…
Kenneth: [ in a murmur ] Do I have any chance?
In an instant, Kenneth gets his answer. Because despite his eagerness, Grace caves first, leaning into their first kiss. The first one is slow, testing the waters, and they break for a quiet moment to catch their breath when they pull apart.
Then, it’s game over. Kenneth cups Grace’s face and pulls her into another kiss, this one more urgent than the first. And by some grace of God, or maybe the Devil, Grace loses all her reservations in the thrill of his embrace. She matches his fervor and kisses him back, grabbing his flannel and pulling him close.
We pan up and away, lingering on the decorative horseshoe…
INT. CHUBBIES - DAY
Out of the fog of the nineties and back in the present, Charlie is back at Chubbies. He has his travel journal open and colored tabs ready to organize, but that seems to be as far as he’s gotten. He’s distracted this afternoon, lost in his own head as he stares blankly out the window and watches people pass on the sidewalk without really seeing them.
He certainly doesn’t see ZAY BABINEAUX, who enters the diner from the other side of the street. Unlike Charlie, he’s energetic and alert, and he only brightens further when he spots the all too familiar back of Charlie’s head.
But he has to tread cautiously -- it’s been a minute since his little revelation during his audition, but the feelings haven’t changed. So he may not be able to pull off nonchalant as expertly as before. He needs to act strategically to avoid embarrassing himself.
So Zay does what he does best. He goes for a tease. He quietly approaches from behind and then strikes by surprise, reaching over the back of the adjacent booth to tap Charlie on his far shoulder. He jumps in response, naturally looking over his shoulder until he realizes that’s silly a second later, since he’s just looking at the window -- and whips his head back around just in time to find Zay standing at his table with a cheeky smile on his face.
Charlie: Jeez. Zay: Hi. You’re twitchy today. Charlie: You scared me. Zay: Since day one. It’s basically my job.
Charlie resists the urge to roll his eyes. Zay plops into the booth opposite him, asking how things are going. What’s he working on? Before Zay can get too close a look, Charlie swiftly closes the journal and subtly pulls it closer to himself.
Charlie: Nothing much. Just killing time until those college acceptances come through. Zay: Seriously? Charlie: Were you expecting something else? Remember who you’re talking to here. Zay: Wah, wah. But no, not particularly. I just feel like -- I don’t know, I assumed you were booked up. I feel like I haven’t seen you in weeks.
Yeah… that would be the lowkey mood-swing-depression hibernation… classic ostracized-by-Eleanor coping mechanism. Charlie avoids getting into it, though, clearing his throat and shrugging.
Charlie: No, yeah, I’ve just… um, been busy.
Response of the month, apparently. Zay can tell he’s being vague, but he decides to let it go for now, because being near him again already feels volatile and pushing any buttons when he’s so internally unsteady feels like risky business.
And he already has a big ask on his mind. Speaking of colleges and acceptances…
Zay: So. Turner. I’ve been wanting to talk to you about it. Charlie: Oh, shoot, yeah. Sorry, I totally meant to follow up -- Zay: Why are you apologizing? Don’t apologize to me. Charlie: Okay, right. Sorry. I mean --
Charlie winces at himself, earning a laugh from Zay. He takes a second to compose himself, skipping the compulsive apologies, then starts again.
Charlie: I meant to check in earlier. Zay: Before you evaporated? Charlie: Sure. So, what? Did you hear anything? I feel like if you had, you would’ve said something. Zay: Correct. Believe me, if they’d told me anything worthwhile, you’d be the first to know. [ shaking his head ] No, they’re saving that big reveal for later. But they’re doing a post-audition semi-formal gala of sorts this week to celebrate everyone’s hard work, and for getting this far, blah blah blah. Charlie: Wow. That’s nice? Zay: Yeah, in theory. Only they’re also announcing the three finalists for the two spots at this thing, rather than sparing us all the tragedy or just saying which two got picked upfront. Charlie: Wow. That’s… a lot. Zay: No fucking kidding. Blood might be spilled, Carrie style. Not to mention it’s such a dramatic as fuck way to do this whole thing, but I guess that’s kind of par for the course in the business. The other part is that we all get to do some sort of solo presentation, like a little talent show, to make us all feel good and special before they harpoon most of our high hopes.
It’ll be interesting, at least, there’s no doubt about that. Based on his expression, Charlie seems grateful he’s not trying to exist in this industry more and more every day.
Zay: Anyway, the circus allows each of us to invite a plus-one, and I was thinking you could come with me. [ a beat ] You know, as a thank-you for showing up in the first place.
It takes Charlie a minute to process the request, and once he does, he isn’t quite sure he can believe it.
Charlie: Oh. Zay: I know I didn’t exactly sell it that well, but I swear it’ll be fun. Probably. Maybe. At least entertaining. And not stressful for you, considering you don’t have any stakes in the whole thing. Charlie: Well, aside from you… Zay: Aside from me. But personally. All the more reason to have you there -- I’m going to need all the luck I can get. Charlie: No, right, ha ha. For sure. I just, um…
Charlie subconsciously grips the edge of his journal, hugging it a bit closer to him.
Charlie: Is Vanessa gonna be cool with that? Or are you all not allowed to like, be each other’s plus-ones? Zay: Oh. No. No, uh… don’t think she’d like that very much anyway. 
That’s foreboding. Charlie frowns, confused, opening the door for Zay to truly catch him off-guard. Forgot to mention this little detail…
Zay: We ended things. A bit ago.
Charlie stops breathing. For how sharply those words just sent electricity through his veins, though, he does a remarkable job of keeping it together.
Charlie: Oh. Shoot. [ frown deepening ] I’m sorry. Zay: [ waving him off ] It’s… you know. Whatever. I mean, honestly, it’s fine. For the best. Like, we liked each other, but with the competition and everything…
Not to mention the whole still-in-love-with-your-ex thing. But details, details. Regardless, the point is that there’s certainly no issue here. There’s no barriers to entry, and no reason not to follow his gut and invite him along.
That is, except for Charlie himself. If he doesn’t want to go, no harm, no foul.
Zay: Like I said, I totally get if it sounds like a lot. You were just my first thought.
If Zay says one more nice thing so easily like that, he’s going to knock him out. But Charlie manages to keep his cool, contemplating for a moment before shrugging.
Charlie: Why not? I’d be happy to come. Thanks for inviting me.
Zay grins, relieved. Charlie aims to shake off the strange tension that seems to have resurfaced between them, taking a shot at his expense.
Charlie: Besides, it’s probably wise for me to tag along. If this really is going to become a bloodbath, you’ll need someone to cover you -- or pull you out of there before you commit murder.
He kids, but he hasn’t met the Turner cohort yet. Zay makes a face.
Now that he’s gotten through his high-stakes request -- and got the answer he hoped for -- Zay’s brain is working enough again to think about anything else.
Zay: Speaking of shit we meant to ask about, how did that thing from the other night go? When you left the audition? I know you were pretty serious about it.
God, Zay, you have no idea… and he still won’t, as Charlie side-steps the question once the initial rush of dread wears off.
Charlie: Oh, yeah. Yeah, it went… great. All good.
Zay smiles, and Charlie just manages to mirror it.
INT. JUPITER RECORDS - OFFICE - DAY
To round out the afternoon, Yindra finds herself specifically called into the office of one of the main label representatives putting the girl group together. The LABEL REP greets her cheerfully and invites her to sit wherever she’s comfortable.
Label Rep: We’re just waiting for one more.
That has Yindra more uncertain than before. She figured being singled out was either very good news or very bad news, given they’re running at six right now, but if she’s not the only one then she isn’t sure what to think.
Even more so once Aleena appears in the doorway, receiving the same warm greeting.
She and Yindra eye each other curiously for a second, both trying to suss out what could have possibly brought them both here. They’re not similar voice parts. They don’t have the same core skills. Aleena is far from Yindra’s most direct competition, far as she could surmise.
Even so, there they both are. Aleena offers a tight smile and takes the seat next to Yindra, both of them turning their attention to the label rep.
Label Rep: First, I just wanted to offer my most sincere congratulations. It’s quite the feat that you both made it this far in the process, and I hope you’re very proud of yourselves.
Yindra senses hedging, but Aleena beats her to a pithy comment.
Aleena: I’m saving the pride for if I actually make it, personally.
So they can skip all the niceties. What is this really about? The rep gets that signal, clearing their throat and getting to the point.
Label Rep: It’s no joke about how talented both of you are. Between us, you two are certainly some of the strongest contenders in this crop, and I’m not just saying that. There’s so much going for each of you, so in that regard, keep doing what you’re doing. Yindra: But…? If we’re here discussing it, surely there’s a but.
Indeed. The label rep goes on to explain that as they well know after the retreat experience, the label is taking everything into consideration when crafting the ultimate girl group to resuscitate the genre. That goes for skill, but marketability as well. Looks are one factor, of course, which neither girl should be worried about -- they’re both gorgeous. However…
Label Rep: The general public is a fickle beast, particularly the American subset. Did you know consumers will become averse to a product they traditionally love just because the packaging suddenly changed colors? Or because the text of the brand name is just slightly too big?
Point is, the smallest details really do matter. That goes doubly for the industry, where being an entertainer basically invites scrutiny to an abnormal degree. This is something the label is keenly aware of, and trying to anticipate every angle as they put together the perfect combination of women. For the two of them…
Label Rep: The concern has been raised that your names may be… too similar.
Yindra frowns, confused. Aleena looks less caught off-guard, but just as perturbed.
Yindra: I’m sorry? I don’t understand. Label Rep: With a girl group -- or any group, for that matter -- you want each member to be distinct. To bring their own unique personality and flavor to the table, that dissuades any sense of interchangeability. You want there to be the feeling that this combination of girls is it, the absolute pinnacle of personas coming together for a master class in performance. Aleena: Right. Sure. Yindra: But I don’t see how that applies? Our names aren’t similar. I mean, I guess they both end in “A.” Aleena: So does Tabitha. Label Rep: Yes, well -- Aleena: And Ronica. Yindra: Wow, maybe there are a lot of “ah” ending names -- Label Rep: That’s not the concern. But the reasoning is beside the point.
Regardless of why, they’ve honed in on these two as a potential issue, and they want to be ahead of the curve by proactively finding a solution. Thus, why they’ve summoned them there today.
Label Rep: We’re hoping that one of you  -- or both, if you so choose -- would be willing to take on a nickname. While a member of the group.
Something more distinct, and ideally poppy. A pseudonym that’ll ring fresh with the rest and help create the perfect symphony of names that just flies off the tongue.
Although she can’t put her finger on why, the suggestion makes Yindra uncomfortable. Despite how cheerfully the rep is pitching it, something just doesn’t feel right. Aleena seems equally resistant.
Aleena: So you want us to play a part. Label Rep: No. No, not at all -- Aleena: You’re asking us to take on a different name. Isn’t that inherently being someone else? Label Rep: Absolutely nothing about either of you needs to change. You have great assets all around, and we want to highlight that. It’s just about… finding the right label. Spicing up the packaging. That’s all. We want to give you the best chance for success.
Only a name isn’t just a label -- it’s an identity. It’s Yindra’s identity, and she isn’t sure she wants to get her start being known by something else entirely.
Label Rep: Some of the greatest artists out there today have stage names, after all. Like Lorde! Or… or, um… Yindra: Lady Gaga. Aleena: Cardi B. Yindra: Halsey. Aleena: Lana Del Rey. Label Rep: Yes! Yes, all of the above. You totally get what I’m saying.
Except she couldn’t be bothered to do her own research first… well, suppose that’s the joy of having the grunt work in a project like this. It’s certainly not one of the label executives sitting down with them to have this conversation.
Aleena: So how is this being decided, exactly? Label Rep: Well, that’s the best part. We know you all are working on building collaboration, and we want to foster that one-hundred percent. So we’re putting the choice in your hands! The two of you can work it out amongst yourselves who would like the fun little name remix.
Oh, even better! They not only want one of them to drop their identity, they’re going to make them battle it out to pick who. Less blood on their hands. Aleena and Yindra exchange an awkward side-eye.
Label Rep: To help you decide, the label is going to send you a list in the next couple of days with some of the new names they’ve been workshopping for you. So you’ll have a much better sense of what this new pop persona might sound like before you have to pull the trigger.
With that, she’ll let them go, but they’d love it if they could hear back before the end of the week.
INT. JUPITER RECORDS - HALLWAY - DAY
As they exit, Yindra tries to make conversation, mostly to cover her own discomfort.
Yindra: That was weird, right? Kind of dumb to make us have to work out their aesthetic preferences, but -- Aleena, flatly: It’s not about aesthetics.
Yindra pauses, uncertain. Aleena stops walking and sighs, deciding to just give it to her straight.
Aleena: It’s not that our names are similar. You said it yourself, they’re not. They’re basically at opposite ends of the alphabet. Yindra: Yeah. Which is why it’s dumb that -- Aleena: It’s not that they’re alike. It’s that they’re not white enough.
Yindra’s stomach drops. That must have been where the itching sense of distaste came from. It wasn’t said out loud, not by the label, but…
Aleena: Look, I’ve been in this business a couple years now, and they all play the same games. [ with an eye roll ] They want diversity points, and lucky them based on the girls we’ve got left, they’ll get them. That’s not a bad thing. But… God forbid it sounds too much like it.
If prime marketability is what they’re after… well, something’s gotta give. Apparently. Whether that’ll be Yindra or Aleena, though…
For now, remains to be seen. Aleena claims she’ll hit her up later, once they’ve both had time to think through this bullshit.
Aleena: That is, if this doesn’t make you wanna run for the hills. Wouldn’t blame you.
Or is she just saying that, so she’ll get out of her way? Hard to say.
Yindra doesn’t respond, left standing in the hallway and suddenly feeling more alone than ever.
INT. LUCAS’S APARTMENT - DAY
Riley steps into a similarly lonely entryway, though the promise of company is just around the corner where the light is shining. It’s strange to walk this apartment without feeling like you’re treading on eggshells, but that’s exactly what she does, heading into the living area.
Grace spots her first, currently sitting on the couch going through boxes from the bedroom. She stands when she sees she’s there, more than a little surprised.
Grace: Hi. I didn’t realize you were stopping by. Riley: Yeah. I hope that’s okay. [ holding up a takeout bag ] I figured with everything you guys are working on, you probably aren’t super focused on meal prep. This place is on the way from NYU, so thought I’d grab something. Keep everyone fed. Grace: That’s sweet. Thank you. But I hope you’re not taking too much time. Shouldn’t you be at the show -- Lucas: Riley?
Both women pause, turning to look at Lucas standing in his doorway. He heard her voice and couldn’t be sure he wasn’t going crazy -- although despite his request that she skip coming by, he doesn’t seem upset to see her there.
Lucas: I thought you weren’t coming.
Riley can answer both questions in one. She smiles at Grace, then holds Lucas’s gaze, resolute.
Riley: I’m between shows. I’ve got time.
To her, being there for him is never going to be a burden.
That little detail cleared up, she passes off the food to Grace, encouraging them to dig in whenever they’re hungry. She’ll grab some before she heads back for the evening show, but in the meantime, what can she help with? She’s eager to contribute however she can.
Now that she’s there, Lucas isn’t going to fight her on it. He gestures for her to join him and she happily obliges, the two of them quietly discussing whatever minimal sorting Lucas has managed to accomplish.
Grace dutifully takes the food into the kitchen before returning to her own task, pausing for a moment to listen to Lucas and Riley chat in the other room. It’s reassuring, honestly, to hear how different his tone is with her. Far less unpredictable, and less abrasive, than she’s been navigating the past couple of weeks.
It makes her smile, even just a bit… and in some ways, it takes her back. She settles back onto the couch and goes back to sorting through one of the smaller boxes she pulled from their bedroom closet, a mish-mash of mementos and photographs.
As she lingers on one of her and Kenneth from high school…
EXT. AUSTIN SUBURBS - MONTAGE - FLASHBACK - DAY
Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Alright” as performed by Supergrass || Instrumental
We’re thrown back into the rose-tinted world of the late nineties, fully submerged in the whirlwind of Kenneth and Grace’s young romance. It’s reminiscent of The Notebook, full of whimsy and charm. They walk the halls of school together, Kenneth insistent on showing off his new girl despite her shyness and less-than-popular everygirl status. She attends more games to cheer him on, a joy to both Kenneth on the field and Rachel cheering on the sidelines.
He indulges her hobbies too, though, infiltrating more time in Grace’s sacred space as she cares for the horses on their farm. He listens attentively enough while she bores him with details about them, and the two get playful as she teaches him how to harness and ride one. He also makes a habit of bothering her while she’s trying to do homework, or write in her journals -- he even snatches it from her at one point and starts to flip through it, which she only manages to get back once she’s playfully wrestled him for it and he’s stolen a kiss instead.
Of course, they do that too. Kiss. More and more frequently, the longer they spend together. At school, on the sidelines during games when they’re between plays, after Kenneth takes her home. Deeper and longer kisses in his bedroom, or hers, or in the barn when he’s managed to distract her from the horses. In one shot, he nudges her back against the wall and kisses her hard, Grace’s decorative horseshoe wobbling dangerously on its hook.
Though Grace remains more hesitant than him, and more likely to turn her cheek or shy away from his affection with a bashful grin, Kenneth isn’t deterred. He seems to take it in stride -- more of that hard-to-get game he felt she’s been playing with him since they first met. If he is frustrated, he’s doing a good job of hiding it, and she usually makes up for it with another adorable quirk or embrace a moment later.
It almost feels like a dream. The whole sequence of little moments and memories is so disarming and endearing, it’s almost possible to forget who we’re looking at and what they become. Some things are less clear in hindsight…
In fact, watching the two of them here, they could pass for any of our favorite AMBITION duos. Cute, carefree, full of natural chemistry and the undeniable desire to be near each other.
Feel alright…
EXT. THE HIGH LINE - DAY
Nigel and Zay are on the High Line, taking the chance to share a walking lunch in an otherwise hectic week. They both commiserate about the fact that they’re glad they’re not the ones dealing with funerals and all that, let alone this week.
Zay: I’ve got enough on my mind with this whole transfer gala thing. I told Riley if she needed anything, she can totally hit me up, but… suffice to say, Friar always reminds me that I am extremely lucky to have the family I do. [ elbowing him ] We lucked out in one way at least, huh? Nigel: Oh, yeah… for sure.
The agreement is hollow, but not enough for Zay to notice. He can sense that Nigel isn’t quite zoned in, though, so he tries to gear the conversation towards him. How is this semester going? Any better than last -- he hopes?
Zay: Surely NYU is realizing what they’ve got with you in their ranks, or I don’t know, man. If they don’t choose you, they oughta lose you.
He says it jokingly, but he has no idea exactly how spot on he is. Truly no clue, because of all people, Nigel hasn’t told him one word of his UK ambitions. Not that he couldn’t, in fact, he knows Zay would empower him without hesitation. He’s all about bold moves and asserting your worth.
Yet, even now, Nigel demurs. He opts not to say anything, because when he looks at Zay, all he hears is a relentless echo in his brain.
You are not Zay Babineaux!
He loves Zay, but he can’t understand this. They’ve never been the same.
So Nigel shrugs, redirecting the conversation back to Zay’s big events this week.
INT. L.A. APARTMENT - MAYA’S BEDROOM - DAY
Despite how casually she played things off with Farkle, Maya is far from the pinnacle of productivity these days. She mainly spends her time holed up in her room, pretending to be songwriting but not actually getting anything done. If you asked her, she probably wouldn’t be able to tell you how she spends most of her days. It all feels like a big blur.
Until lighting strikes and brings everything into sharp, stinging focus. Maya sits up from her blanket cocoon when her phone vibrates with a text. She’s already preparing what she’ll say to Farkle to deflect, or assure him she’s busy, but it’s not from him.
It’s Justin.
“Hey hey heyyy, hope everything is good with you! wondering when ur thinking about getting back into the studio? we’ve got hit songs to create for your big EP debut haha”
It’s so casual it’s actually disturbing. As if nothing happened, as if everything between them is exactly how it was before the retreat. It’s so easy for him to brush it off and forget -- no big deal, no consequences.
It’s not that easy for Maya. She’s been doing everything in her power to forget about it, about him, for weeks. But it’s a losing battle, considering he and Melissa were becoming her whole world. Seeing it thrown back in her face is so unsettling, it makes her sick.
Literally. Suddenly sure she’s going to vomit, Maya pushes the blankets off of her in a frantic rush and races for her bathroom.
INT. L.A. APARTMENT - BATHROOM - DAY
She collapses on the tiled floor in front of the toilet, dry heaving and hands shaking. Thankfully, nothing comes out, but that’s mostly because she hasn’t been eating too well lately either. Once the intense bout of nausea subsides, she groans and falls back against the side of the bathtub.
Maya has never felt this way before. So unsteady, affected by the smallest shift in the wind. So… weak.
She hates it. She hates it, and there’s nothing she can do about it. The damage has already been done.
But at the very least, she can protect herself from attacks like this. With vitriol, she reaches for her phone and opens the text thread with Justin, then slams the block button.
Brief moment of empowerment ebbing away, Maya crumbles again, folding in on herself and slouching down to let her forehead rest against the cold porcelain of the bath.
INT. GLOBAL BEAT - OFFICES - DAY
Justin isn’t the only one wondering about Maya’s absence. JOSH MATTHEWS has noticed -- partially because it’s so quiet without her blathering on and on about herself.
And because he’s got outstanding business with her. He never did hear back after he left her that voicemail, even though he’s been checking his messages and missed calls repeatedly. He thought he might be able to catch her in the office, at least let her know he left it in case she just for some reason missed it…
But clearly, that isn’t going to be so simple. Because for weeks now, M.H. has been M.I.A.
Josh clicks into his drafts in his email, where we see he’s crafted an entire email of all his notes to Maya about her demos. Thoughtful, even-handed with praise and constructive criticism, having given each of them more effort and time than Melissa or Justin have thrown their way combined. He wrote them down in the off-chance she rejected him outright, so he could at least give her the material to do with as she pleased…
But he can’t send it. He can’t let go of the hope he might be able to discuss it with her in person.
It’s dangerous to contemplate it here anyway. He goes back to his inbox, skimming through an email that just came through from Ernest Floyd. Based on the amount of exclamation points he included, he’s very excited about whatever he’s cooking up.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said and been putting it to work. I’m putting a bunch of new stuff together, and I can’t WAIT to show the world. I’m using one of those demo tracks you made me last summer -- prepare to be AMAZED!!!!!”
That’s nice. If only anyone on Earth cared. Josh starts to type out a canned encouraging response, just so he knows he’s still in his corner, but he’s distracted as MELISSA SUZUKI returns down the hall from lunch. She gives him a cheerful greeting as she passes. Josh returns it, about to let the moment pass…
Josh: Hey, is Maya coming in today? Or… at all this week? Melissa: Oh. You know, I’m not sure. I don’t think she’s on the calendar. [ playfully ] That’s your job, isn’t it? Josh: No, she isn’t. She hasn’t been. [ a beat ] I just thought maybe you all were meeting off schedule or something. Or she might stop by. I feel like she hasn’t been around in weeks.
Sure hasn’t, Josh. And Melissa knows this -- there’s a moment where her features flicker with recognition, and bizarrely, what looks like a hint of shame -- but she brushes it off a second later.
Melissa: I think she said she was going to take some time out of the studio, actually. Do some workshopping on her own. Josh: Oh. Okay. Melissa: But she should be back soon. I’m sure.
Melissa gives him a smile, then lets it drop. Josh doesn’t question further, but something about it all is still bothering him… if she’s working so hard on stuff on her own, then why is she leaving him on read? He thought they had gotten through their rough patch, that things were in a good state. If it’s not just her being petty for no reason again…
What is he missing?
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beyoncesdancers · 11 months
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I'm late but I'm kinda disappointed that the og girls not around anymore I understand why but that not sitting well with me the Ashley Dnay Kimmie Amandy years where special man I was hoping we'd see them one last time together that was a special Era the mcwt and otr tour where my faves something about that crew had togetherness
Yeah, I understand completely. I already knew Kimmie wasn’t coming back, but I didn’t think the Everett era was done too 😭
In my dream world, Ash, Kimmie, Dnay, Ash S., Amandy, Jasmine, Saidah, Quinny, Kim Gingras and Haji would all be back 😭😭😭
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kilopfiber · 2 years
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Albuquerque little theatre
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#ALBUQUERQUE LITTLE THEATRE HOW TO#
We are requiring the following from our patrons to attend Albuquerque Little Theatre performances: This is an extremely effective and easily produced version of this Christmas classic. The Christmas Spirits work their magic and warm the heart of Scrooge, as well as the old stage manager. The rag tag players (including the stage manager and prop boy) quickly become the characters of the story, and we are pulled into the life of Ebenezer Scrooge. The troupe proceeds to make their way through the tale, creating fog, snow, fire and ghosts through mime, imagination and wonderful visual effects. The acting troupe soon discovers that the actors playing Scrooge and Tiny Tim have abandoned the tour but the show must go on, and the prop boy eagerly volunteers for the part of Tim while the cynical stage manager must be forcibly drafted to play the old miser. The gruff stage manager and prop boy check the show's props, which are shabby and third rate, but the troupe improvises by creating a magical world of make-believe. As the on-stage trunk of supplies opens, actors and clowns spill out and roll on. In this version, we encounter a company of traveling players about to enact the Dickens story. New York Magazine cheers, “ MEAN GIRLS delivers with immense energy, a wicked sense of humor and joyful inside-jokery.Charles Dickens' 'A Christmas Carol' synopsis: A highly inventive adaptation of the classic Dickens story, pared down to its essential elements. But when Cady devises a plan to end Regina’s reign, she learns the hard way that you can’t cross a Queen Bee without getting stung. Soon, this naïve newbie falls prey to a trio of lionized frenemies led by the charming but ruthless Regina George. The story of a naïve newbie who falls prey to a trio of lionized frenemies, MEAN GIRLS “delivers with immense energy, a wicked sense of humor and joyful inside-jokery.” USA Today says, “We’ll let you in on a little secret, because we’re such good friends: GET YOUR TICKETS NOW!”Ĭady Heron may have grown up on an African savanna, but nothing prepared her for the vicious ways of her strange new home: suburban Illinois. By the triumphant finale of this ferociously funny Jones Hope Wooten comedy (Could there be a double wedding in Doublewide?), you’ll be throwing fits, alright-fits of laughter that’ll make your sides ache! (~From Google)ĭirect from Broadway, MEAN GIRLS is the hilarious hit musical from book writer TINA FEY (“30 Rock), composer JEFF RICHMOND (“Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt”), lyricist NELL BENJAMIN (Legally Blonde) and director CASEY NICHOLAW (The Book of Mormon). But as the tentacles of the corporation envelope them all, can the citizens of this little Texas town put aside their problems and unite behind Joveeta to fight “the big guys” and turn the tide in Doublewide? A heap of hilarity with a whole lot of heart-and a stand-alone play in its own right-HONKY TONK HISSY FIT is the third comedy in the trilogy that begins with Doublewide, Texas and continues with A Doublewide, Texas Christmas. And as the danger to the town grows, Joveeta can’t even count on the usually reliable and sweet health fanatic Lark Barken-because she’s currently under the spell of a demon she’s only recently discovered: caffeine. But Baby’s got as much chance of winning as Georgia Dean Rudd has of not jinxing her relationship with Nash Sloggett-she’s twisting herself into knots trying to dodge his constant marriage proposals.
#ALBUQUERQUE LITTLE THEATRE HOW TO#
Big Ethel has her hands full trying to teach the town’s good-ol’-boy police chief, Baby Crumpler, how to dirty-dance for a countywide competition. Caprice is also hell-bent on keeping her neighbor and rival, Big Ethel Satterwhite, from horning in on her domain-the Stagger Inn bar. Her mother, Caprice, is too self-involved with her “career” as a local celebrity to sense the growing threat, or to even realize that grumpy old Haywood Sloggett is increasingly drawn to her-and Sloggett is fighting those romantic feelings tooth and nail. Mayor Joveeta Crumpler is the only one suspicious enough to sound the alarm, but no one is listening. Suddenly the corporation is interested in Doublewide. It seems their vacation rental trailer has drawn unwanted attention from a mega-corporation in Austin. In this rollicking, hilarious comedy, the Doublewide, Texas, gang is back and life in their tiny town has gotten crazier than ever! Just when things are looking up-the population has grown to seventeen mobile homes and a weekend farmers’ market-the rug is pulled out from under the residents yet again.
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Branch: I’m fine! I don’t need to talk about it.
Y/N: Branch, you yell in your sleep. You bite MY nails. And we still don’t know why you’re afraid of velcro!
Y/N: *opens a velcro shoe*
Branch: AAAAAAAHH!
Branch: *knocks shoe out of Y/N’s hand and storms off*
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mydefenseihavenone · 6 years
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me: idk I don't really listen to country anymore -
taylor: got the radio on, my old blue jeans...
me:
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maraczeks · 3 years
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30 rock s7 rewatch thread pt 7
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roxy206 · 2 years
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Hi Kimmy 😊 I'm new to the world of trixya fanfics and was wondering if you have any recommendations on where to start or what your favorites are?.
By the way, I love your work, you have a lot of talent to write 💌 xo
Hi Anon!
These are some m/m tour fics that I’ve enjoyed:
Back Home by @unhhhhbelievable
Letting It Be Something Else by @sadbiddie
You Already Know by LittleSister
pillow talk by @indigo-ang3l
Thank you so much 💕
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Fossil Fighters Timeline (1931-2017)
(Some of the dates listed for the games are later than the release dates. The series has always had a futuristic feel, so logic’s been prioritised over canon/the real-world timeline.)
(Spoilers for everything. This timeline is a constant WIP, developing as this blog’s world gain depth — hence, expect it to get reblogged sporadically with things that have been missed.)
March 8, 1931 – Mr. Richmond born in Chicago.
August 1, 1949 - Dr. Blackraven born in Charleston, West Virginia.
May 5, 1957 –  Slate Johnson born in Pretoria, South Africa.
June 19, 1958 – Dr. Diggins born in Manchester.
May 27, 1960 – Mr. Richmond has his first child, Russel. 
November 2, 1960 – Joseph Lully Varèse (known to all as ‘Joe’) born in Parsippany, New Jersey.
October 13, 1961 – Nevada Montecarlo born in Las Vegas, Nevada. (Her parents move to Portland, Oregon, after realising that their considerations for baby names could’ve been... well, more considered.)
1967 – Bartholomew Bullwort born in Lincoln, Nebraska.
1968 - Mr. Richmond has a daughter, Kimberley, born in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.
March 3, 1971 – Marcus Harrison born in Liverpool.
March 1977 – Dr. Diggins, midway through his first year of university in Cambridge, strikes the business deal with Mr. Richmond that leads to the creation of the first fossil revival machine. 
June 1977 – First dig site opened. Three more follow in England.
July 1977-December 1978 – Dig sites aplenty open worldwide. 
July 23, 1977 – P. A. Leon born in Jacksonville, Florida.
April 1979 – Richmond’s Inc. begins mass-producing dino medals. Fossil fighting takes the world by storm.
Late August 1979 – Joe ‘Wild West’ Varèse and Nevada Montecarlo meet at university in Portland, hitting it off immediately over a love of vivosaurs and adventure. She’s the one who gives him the nickname (honouring his outlandishness and overly idealistic, zany stance on life) that he’ll come to adopt less than a year later as his legal name.
April 29, 1980 – Karl Kowloon born in Melbourne, Australia.
June 21, 1980 – Joseph Lully Varèse legally changes his name to Joe Wildwest in revolt against his parochial upbringing. It sticks.
September 8, 1980 – Lewis Stryker born in Melbourne, Australia. 
September 1982-March 1983 – Off-map: Six Months in a Leaky Boat filmed. Released on 5 November, 1983. Joe and Nevada get rich and famous by the end of the year, but aren’t aware, as they’re off adventuring/filming the next season.
July 1982 – The Fossil Parks are founded to establish an international accord on fossil fighting before things get hairy. 
January 23, 1983 – Mr. Richmond purchases Vivosaur Island. 
May 1986-October 1986 – Joe Wildwest tours Australia and New Zealand for tournaments and festivals. Whilst in Christchurch, he meets Leanna Campbell, a down-to-business reporter, at a records store as the two reach for Crowded House at the exact same time. They cannot stop talking - later, she ends up interviewing him several times on and off-camera before he returns to America. Over the next couple of years, he returns to New Zealand whenever he has a holiday - initially because of liking the nation, but later after ending up in a relationship with her. 
April 7, 1989 – Cole Franklin born in Cranial City, Caliosteo.
July 2, 1989 – Terry Eno born in Hilo, Hawaii. His family migrates to Cranial City three years after his birth.
September 3, 1989 – Richmond Inc. creates the first KL robot, KL-10N. It’s surprisingly successful, prompting a new line of KL-2 robots running from KL-20N to KL-2XN. KL-26N, one of the most widely used models, becomes a 90s icon of fossil digging.
May 12, 1990 – Lester Hamilton born in Ribular Town, Caliosteo.
August 1990 – Kimmy Richmond moves to Cambridge for postgraduate research. There, she meets Marcus Harrison. The two start dating six months after they first crash into one another on campus.
February 29, 1993 – Marcus Harrison founds FossilDig (read as: Marcus Harrison has his first and favourite child with Kimmy Richmond). Three days later, he moves into Kimmy Richmond’s Cambridge home. Though it’s his company, she’s the creative brain behind it all. He simply does the negotiating.
March 1994 – Having been dating Joe for a bit over 7 years, Leanna Campbell moves to America to live with him. (After Joe’s brother moves to Portland for work, the not-entirely-young couple immediately flee to New York City. Joe doesn’t like his family. Leanna downright hates them.)
January 2, 1996 – Lola Jay born in Ribular Town, Caliosteo.
June 8, 1996 – Tria Zhěng born in Chóngqìng, Sìchuān.
May 17, 1997 – Leanna and Joe marry in a quiet ceremony in Christchurch (read as: the media speculate as to where the hell he’s gone for four weeks, only to see him return with a wedding ring. Nobody, of course, cares about his wife.)
Late February 1998 – Following a tumultuous relationship with Stryker in grade 11, Karl Kowloon disappears. His parents have no clue where he’s gone, but rumours abound stating that he snuck onto a plane to America. (Stryker doesn’t put it past him.) At the beginning of March, the Blackraven Brigade begins operations.
May 30, 1998 – Rosie Richmond born on Vivosaur Island.
December 19, 1998 – Dino (real name Daniel, but nobody except Rupert calls him that) born to Leanna and Joe Wildwest in New York City.
January 9, 1999 – Hunter born in Sydney, Australia.
February 3, 1999 – Rupert born to Kimberley Richmond and Marcus Harrison in Cambridge. 
April 9, 2000 – Dina born in Canberra, Australia.
January 2001 – Todd born in Sydney, Australia.
July 11, 2002 – Rosie Richmond’s parents, Russel and Lynette Richmond, killed in cave-in near the Starship’s ruins. Mr. Richmond takes Rosie in as his own child.
July 15, 2002 – Bartholomew Bullwort retrieves the Richmonds’ bodies, risking life and limb in the process. He is commended for his valour and promoted to head of the Vivosaur Island police, but his already-tenuous relationship with Richmond sours beyond repair.
September 7, 2002 – Bartholomew Bullwort establishes the BB Bandits.
August 2003 – FossilDig produces the first Dino Gears and Support Shots. Though mocked by the public, they garner mass attention and love from the wardens, who endorse them wholeheartedly.
September 3, 2004 – on the 15th anniversary of KL-10N’s release, Richmond Inc. put the KL-3 line onto the market. KL-33N hits stores two years later. It’s even more beloved than KL-26N, as its quirky personality endears it to many a fighter. (KL-34N was made for Vivosaur Island exclusively.)
October 2005 – First wave of dinaurians begin to emerge from stone sleep, shocked to see the earth’s supposed degeneration.
January 2008 – FossilDig Inc. purchases the KL robots’ trademark. Mass outrage results - for whilst the new models are better, they lack the quirky personality that the originals were so beloved for. Richmond Inc. and FossilDig become increasingly competitive with one another; the former suffers immensely, having fared worse during the GFC. FossilDig is immortalised as the dominant company in fossil fighting production - this burgeoning monopoly is both criticised and accepted.
January 15, 2008 – Dina moves to Sydney with her father for the sake of attending a music-focused school, ending up next-door neighbours with Todd. The two grow immensely close over the next two years.
July 2, 2010 – Dina withdraws from her music school after a year of bullying from another student. Her uncle – Stryker – knowing she’s feeling miserable, permits her and Todd to use to World Gate to travel to America for the holidays. There, they meet Joe Wildwest in the fateful encounter that would give Dina the drive to pick herself up and become a fossil fighter.
November 2010 – Stryker thwarts Blackraven Brigade’s initial attempt at world domination.
December 18, 2010 – Having been ostracised and isolated for his poor behaviour, Dina’s bully is asked to leave the music school. Over the summer break, he begins to feel some remorse that imbues him with a need to help and save the women he meets later (rather than hurt them), and resolves to become a fossil fighter, abandoning music for something completely different. The bully? Hunter. The women he grows fond of after his treatment of Dina? Rosie and Duna.
October 2011-December 2012 – Hunter travels to Vivosaur Island. Fossil Fighters takes place.
November 20, 2012 – Joe Wildwest purchases the Caliosteo islands.
December 3, 2012 – Stryker promoted to Captain of the wardens. 
February 12, 2013 – Joe possessed by ZongaZonga.
March 8, 2015 – Caliosteo Cup begins.
August 24, 2015 – Dina Stryker defeats Rupert Harrison in the finale of the Caliosteo Cup. Hell ensues over the following five months as ZongaZonga attempts to possess Dina, the Cup is revealed as a body-stealing scheme, and the BB Brigade are pardoned.
March 2015- August 2017 – Frontier takes place.
June 30, 2016 – FossilDig signs a deal with Volkswagen and Hyundai, the two largest Bone Buggy manufacturers, allowing for even more mass production of support-shot equipped vehicles. The Fossil Parks’ profit increases substantially (read as: the Wardens go mad with the power).
October 14, 2017 – Mr. Richmond, at the age of 86, falls at home and breaks his hip. Though hospitalised at once, after ten days of care, he passes away. He is mourned widely, remembered for his magnanimity with great love.
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Take Me Away
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Chapter One: Vacation, All I Ever Wanted
Summer - Four Months Earlier
My grandma confided in me when I was a little girl that we are never to overestimate or believe that everyone is inherently good. We were all born with goodness within us, but we were also born with another side that can sometimes fester for too long because we allow others to see the good and not the other. And when we finally release our alter egos, all the energy we kept to hide ourself is released. That’s when people see you are not the goody-two-shoes, squeaky-clean, practically-perfect-in-everyway-Mary Poppins-good. You’ve got a little Voldemort in you too.
See, I was a dreamer. I had these fantasies growing up, these story ideas or wishes that I’d act out in my head and pray would eventually come true. But life isn’t made to be easy, we’re not served what we desire on a silver platter. Rather we have to work for it, keep up the work, and continue working till our last breath. It’s not exactly the creme de la creme you see in movies, plays, tv shows. In fact I was severely let down in my late teens and early college days when I realized that animals won’t follow me around like Snow White, and really nice genuine guys come to sweep you off your feet.
Peyton Craft I’m talking to you — you ruined romance for me. And not just because you made me pay for our dinner date because you “forgot your wallet but not your ID at home” and then sloppily kissed me outside your Theta Chi frat house. You just gave me the creeps and copied off my English tests. Good riddance and I hope you find someone who doesn’t mind you grappling off their wallet like you probably still hold on to your mother . . . Shots fired but who gives a shit?
So back to the basics: never believe in what you hope or dream. Well I shouldn’t say it blatantly like that. More so, what I’m trying to say is that when you have these certain ideas or ways that your life or something in your life will play out, remember that idea is the .00099 percent chance it will actually happen or work. Same goes for romance. Or your idols and those people you adored when you were younger and didn’t know them.
The minute I finished college, I went straight to grad school. In my entire family, I was the first to graduate higher education. And it wasn’t because my family was dumb, or didn’t have the grades — okay maybe the odd few were that way — but really it came down to the fact they just didn’t want to go. They didn’t have that drive or passion to spend thousands of dollars or even win a scholarship to continue four more years on top of another couple years doing school when in fact they could be living up their lives at the old saloon bar in downtown Petaluma. Also, snobby students weren’t their cup of tea or should I say whiskey. I was the black sheep of my family. But graduating college, then grad school made me feel like I could accomplish anything in the world.
On the day of graduation, my parents bestowed me with the most stunning surprise of my life. A roundtrip four weeks spent in the lovely country of Italy; where I would tour the country from north to south, east to west. I wasn’t entirely sure how they were able to scrounge up the money they had to afford the trip, but it was something they knew I’d been dying to do. I was an Literature major and Art minor after all. Italy was one of the main countries which held both in high esteem. So there I was, holding the “golden ticket”, asking when I would be leaving which turned out to be two days later. And it was just about the moment I was going to lose it when mom pulled out grandma’s old beachcombing device and handed it off to me as if it were the scepter of a queen.
“If she were here, she’d given it to you. I know how you two loved to discover together. She’d want you to have it and use it on the trip. No doubt you’ll find some treasures there of your own!”
I wasn’t one to typically cry but this got to me. Holding grandma’s detector and about to lose it. Ever since I’d been little we would comb through the sand and grassy dunes of Bodega Bay, looking for little treasures or collectables. Grandma’s house was adorned in them, and whatever she found, she held dear. Call her a hoarder, but it was the healthy kind. She made stuff with the objects and knick knacks she found, creating beautiful jewelry, or intricate decor pieces. Each wound up being a better treasure than when it was first discovered because she made it beautiful.
So to say in the least, I was thrilled and emotionally compromised. I mean who surprises you with a last minute trip to Italy? Not many people, that I’m sure of. And for the next couple of days, I was floating around in a eternal bliss; from packing to not sleeping a wink at night. I was thrilled, ecstatic, and most of all, elated. No more essays and exams to worry about, just merely getting to the boot shaped country was my only obligation.
There was a bus I took from home in Rohnert Park that drove me to the city. For any of you non-Californians “the city” means San Francisco if you’re from the north of the state. If you live in SoCal, it’s Los Angeles. Rohnert Park is nestled in Sonoma county and just outside of wine county in Napa Valley. It’s approximately and hour north of the city and notorious for its ridiculous traffic when the 101 transforms from four lanes to two. Thankfully, the bus to the San Francisco airport was early in the morning. So in the early hours of June 5th, I sleepily made my way to the bus located new the expressway and waved goodbye to my parents and two year old niece who — like me — couldn’t sleep whenever something exciting was about to happen.
And just like that, I was on my way. In all honesty, I slept for the majority of the bus and flight. Surprisingly, there was no layover, in fact it was a straight shot to the Florence airport where upon arrival, I went through customs then searched the arrivals gate for the specific tour company my parents had signed me up for. The tour would start in Florence and go straight to the coast to Lido Di Camaiore where we would be staying in a beach resort for five days. After, we’d be taken back into Florence for four days, followed by the long drive up to Rome, eventually Venice, and then to Milan where the tour would end.
The tour company was run by an expatriate from Kentucky. With unkempt curly brown hair, and the Italian tan already shining on her skin, Kimmy Slant was the epitome of a tour guide. She wore khaki cargo shorts, a crew neck tank top with the tour company logo, and a bucket hat. She waved chaotically as me and other tired tourists slowly made their way over to where she stood. Once she called attendance and made sure everyone was here, she was squealing with delight as she led us out to the tour bus.
“Alright folks! Hop aboard the fun bus! It’s about an hour drive to Lido Di Camaiore! Paradise is close, but lets face it, you’re already here!”
We piled into the bus which fit approximately twenty-eight people if you squeezed and sat two to a row. I got my own seat since there was only twenty-seven. And as the bus pulled out of the pickup zone of the airport, I pressed my face against the glass to ogle at the life that seemed to surround me. I ignored the humidity that permeated the bus air. As other tourists waved fans in front of their faces, I continued to be in awe of where I was.
Tiny cars zipped by us on the freeway. Vespas and motorcycles, even the plain bike were seen zig zagging in-between the traffic like any normal day. Golden grass billowed up on hills melding into the brush of trees and vineyards which seemed to climb further up the hills that kept us in a small little valley. I yearned to stop the bus, let myself get off and run through the vineyards barefoot. But I forced myself to enjoy the ride, reveling in the nature, the culture, and the small glimpse of Italy I could see.
One hour later we were driving into the coastal town of Lido Di Camaiore. Kimmy had begun speaking to the tourists on the bus who were swiveling their heads around looking at everything they could see from the bus. It wasn’t until we pulled into the main entrance of the hotel we were staying at that my jaw dropped.
I lowered my sunglasses, gazing out to the crystal waters where the waves lapped up onto the white beach sandy shores. How could Northern Italy be so perfectly tropical? And with the majestic mountains in the back, I felt like there was a perfect combination of both beach and forest.
The hotel we were staying at was one of the best in the town. Casa Reale di Lido was a five star hotel with ground access to the beach and many other amenities. I was shocked that Kimmy could partner with such an extravagant place but once we all were leaving the bus she was throwing her arms around one of the managers who had come out to greet us. With an impressed nod, I grabbed my bags and followed the rest of my group into the luxurious lobby of the hotel, ogling at all the beautiful chandeliers and pieces of furniture which adorned the lobby and even gave way to the outdoor bar and restaurant in the back which showed a beautiful view of the beach.
“Your room keys are all ready for you to pick up! Just visit the front desk and give your name and that you’re part of the Kimmy tour! We’ll be planning on meeting up in the evening once you’re all settled in and make way for our plans here in Lido!” Kimmy was bubbly, holding on to the manager’s arm as she came into the lobby with us. She seemed to be holding on to him extra tight and her cheeks had heated up to a soft red. After retrieving my keys to the room, I grabbed my things and walked over to the elevator.
“Room 512,” I spoke to myself as I pressed the “up” button. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed someone standing behind me. The elevator dinged just as the doors opened and I pulled my luggage inside, the man following suit. He was carrying a small bag but already wore a slim fitting suit which resembled a soft blue-grey color. He was browsing his phone, but something made him familiar to me. I couldn’t pin point it . . .
But then it all hit me. I froze in place, eyes widening.
It was Aaron Tveit. TV, movie and most of all the prince of Broadway! I’d spent my teen years and college years swooning over his performances and the way he sang every song so perfectly that sometimes I felt he sang it better than the original. My girlfriends would tease me about my “little crush” and ask why it wasn’t someone like Channing Tatum or Chris Evans. Don’t get me wrong, those were so good-looking dudes, but none of them set my heart fluttering like I had some arrhythmia.
As the elevator took us up, I tried to remain calm. I took normal breaths, attempting to remain calm as I looked straight ahead at the doors. I saw the number go up, wondering if I’d have the guts to say something by the time we got to his or my floor. But it all happened so quickly. The elevator dinged on the 4th floor and when the doors opened he left quickly, not even looking up from his phone.
At that moment I sighed; partially in relief but also in defeat. I couldn’t say one thing. Not even “beautiful weather on the coast”. Nope. I was too much like a fish with my mouth open in a perfectly shaped “O” and my eyes practically bulging out of their sockets. I forced myself to leave the small confines of the elevator for my room and trudged down the hall. Maybe it was the jet lag which was beginning to get to me. Maybe it was making me seem awkward and less of myself. Either way as I entered into my room, the air conditioner set and blowing cool air to relax my sweaty skin, I forgot about Aaron Tveit and leaped for my bed where I fell asleep for another four solid hours.
Of course as I was drifting off to sleep, he briefly came into mind.
We were both in Italy, staying in the same hotel. There’s not a doubt in my mind I would see him again. I had just better up my game.
__________
Let me know if you’d like to join the taglist! Hope you enjoyed the first chapter:) The tension will begin in the next chapter ;) - Holly
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hatari-translations · 5 years
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Female dancers in Hatari and their role - translation
Sólbjört’s research project for her degree from the Academy of the Arts is a 21-page essay (plus sources) on the role of the female dancers in Hatari, containing reflections on the band, feminism, the concept of the backup dancer, and a very interesting description of the process of planning and staging the May 23rd Gamla bíó concert that I attended! Below, I’ve translated and/or summarized the entire essay. It’s a really cool look into her mind and the thought behind the choreography.
I ended up quoting and translating probably the majority of the essay, but I did summarize some parts that were repeating points already made elsewhere or less interesting or relevant to fans of Hatari specifically. To avoid any confusion, I’ve presented the actual quotes in Tumblr’s quote format:
Quote
Anything not in an indented quote is my summary of the bits that I’m not quoting directly, with possible added commentary, etc.
Female dancers in Hatari and their role
The feminine and empowering woman
Introduction
Sólbjört begins by talking about the role of movements accompanying music - how it's commonly seen to be merely a decoration or a cherry on top, but she believes it often serves a much more important role.
There's nothing more satisfying to me than to experience movement controlled by music, or where the movement is slave to the music and follows it, beat for beat. Therefore, I find it extremely appropriate to use dance and movement on the concert stage, where the music is emphasized. The dance and movement becomes a visual medium that both enhances the experience and elevates the music and lyrics.
I have used my interest in the relationship between music and movement to create choreography for Hatari's songs and stage it on the concert stage. This is a study of the role of the female dancers in Hatari, and how lipstick feminism, a subcategory of the third wave of feminism, is used to support underlining the importance of the strong, feminine woman who moves on the concert stage. The primary emphasis is on showing the audience this strong woman who is both empowering and full of feminine qualities, without being accused of being submissive.
Hatari
Sólbjört talks about Hatari, "an anticapitalistic performance art band that nonetheless defines itself as a multimedia project". She explains the band as consisting of Matthías, Klemens and Einar but that this core of people works with many others who serve many different roles in creating the project. She explicitly delineates Klemens as the composer, Matthías as the lyricist and Einar as mixing and arranging the music as well as playing the drums.
Hatari decided to make a change in 2017, when they got the idea of adding dancers to their live shows. They offered me the role before their gig at [music festival] Sónar at the beginning of 2017. Erna Gunnarsdóttir and I got together and started to consider the choreographic possibilities for the music. Some of the possibilities that we saw at the beginning of this process were obvious. Hatari's music belongs to the industrial electronic music (IEM) genre. IEM developed from a mixture of electronic body music (EBM) and industrial music around 1985. EBM has a simplistic structure and production but IEM is more complex and layered. Hatari's music is rhythmic and asks the listener to dance on the very first listen. [...]
Now, in 2019, there are three dancers, two female dancers and one male dancer. The band has had two female dancers ever since adding dancers in early 2017, but the male dancer was added for Söngvakeppnin in 2019. At first, the band wore considerably different costumes from what they do today. The dancers were clad in black overalls or worksuits decorated with reflective tape. The boys were dressed in jackets and accessories, in many ways evoking fascistic World War II military outfits. Now, as is well known, Hatari's costumes in some ways resemble costumes used by the BDSM subculture: leather/vinyl/spandex suits, leather straps, spikes, chokers, etc.
Hatari's lyrics are in Icelandic. The lyrics are characterized by blunt, sharp social satire, anticapitalistic messaging and elucidation of the scam that is everyday life. The Hatari boys' subject matter is less than lighthearted and includes death, the overthrow of human capitalist society, cosumerism and the pretentiousness of existence, doomsday, fake news reports, political undertones, statements that contradict each other and more along those lines. These subjects have followed the band from the start. Everyday life is a relentless scam, say the boys, and they seek to unravel it in their work.
She quotes the first two verses of Spillingardans as an example.
These lyrics are highly relevant to the spirit of the times. Western life has turned into a dance of corruption that everyone takes part in, consciously or not. Corruption is visible everywhere we go, and wherever we look, people take part in overconsumption and in that way feed into capitalism and keep it aloft. People are possessed by avarice and hedonism, which drives modern society.
Hatari is a performance art band known for satire and societal criticism of all kinds. Much of what Hatari does is either performance art, lies, satire, an unconventional presentation of a message, or an aesthetic toeing the line between appealing and unsettling. The band critiques everyday life for what it is, a relentless scam, where image is bought and sold, and the boys create a deluge of news media, misinformation and forgeries.
Backup dancers
Sólbjört draws up an image of how backup dancers are everywhere, performing in sold-out musicals, on the biggest TV shows and on tour with the most popular musicians in the world, but go largely unnoticed and are paid pennies.
But there is nuance to the term 'backup dancer'. Backup dancers come in all shapes and sizes: male, female, nonbinary; short, tall; and so on. There are backup dancers whose sole role is to dance and are 'just' dancers, dancers who only follow the instructions of the choreographer or artist. Other backup dancers serve other roles, such as the role of choreographer. There are backup dancers who are so-called dance captains and have the role of maintaining the coherence of the choreography, which was originally the role of the choreographer, both creating and practicing it.
She points out the role of Beyoncé's dance captain and co-dance captain, Ashley Everett and Kimmie Gee, who have to perfect the choreography for every show and dance and sing and rapidly change costumes throughout the show just like Beyoncé herself.
To be a backup dancer is to be a dancer, actor, singer, model, athlete and more. It takes incredible tenacity to stay in this business and perform your role as well as possible. You have to know everything, and know it well. These dancers are usually subordinate to some other person, and are often not named at all, as with Beyoncé's dancers who are on contract during tours but have to find work elsewhere when the tour is over. These dancers are artists, even though their name isn't at the top of the poster in the biggest font.
She argues that the term backup dancer is dismissive and prefers the term supporting dancer, because their role isn't just to be a backup but to provide vital support for the performance as a whole, and finally posits that supporting dancers play a huge role in the art world, and dance is increasingly used as a visual artistic medium, with Hatari being no exception.
Lipstick feminism and the third wave of feminism
She begins this section by talking about feminism's long history and how it means different things to different people, but most women experience discrimination based on their gender and being criticized for the way they dress, for being too attractive, for not being attractive enough, etc.
The third wave of feminism began in 1990 and is still underway. Lipstick feminism seeks to celebrate the traditional concepts and qualities of femininity, including the sexual empowerment of women, alongside feminist ideas. Unlike previous campaigns and movements within feminism aimed at fighting for the fundamental rights of women, lipstick feminism aims to affirm that women can be feminists without denying or rejecting femininity, that women can for example speak openly about sexuality and sex without being called sluts. This particular feminist believes, very literally, that one can wear lipstick and still call oneself a feminist, because feminism is about so much more than what individual people look like and whether they wear makeup or not. Some feminists have criticized this brand of feminism as they believe that it's contradictory to talk openly about woman as a sexual being while advocating for women's equality. These people sometimes even seek to make women like men and eschew everything feminine, believing that it's impossible to be feminine and have power at the same time. Some women (hopefully most) find it empowering to to celebrate their existence as sexual beings and want to retain their femininity. They believe that honest discussion about these issues is very important, and that the cause is necessary to all kinds of feminism. It's not enough to free a woman from the oppression of the patriarchy; she also has to be able to be proud of being a woman, with her feminine qualities. One of the primary goals of this type of feminism, I feel, is to reclaim words that have been used to denigrate women, such as 'slut'. Some believe that these feminists are simply reenacting old-fashioned ideas about women and their sexuality, and that by talking bluntly about women as sexual beings, they are objectifying the female body in a negative way. Other women believe that by owning their own sexuality and celebrating femininity, whether it's wearing makeup or pole-dancing, women become stronger and more powerful.
The biggest criticism of this type of feminism is that it's difficult to criticize the objectification of the female body, such as advertisements obviously selling sex in the form of women's bodies in print, while some women sexualize their own bodies.
Owning your own sexuality
Sexy isn't the same thing as sexy. What I think the word sexy conveys is to be comfortable with oneself in one's own skin. For many it's about something sexual, but it depends heavily on how the person thinks, their experiences, religion, and other factors. I believe the word sexy means very different things in different cultures and religions.
The choreography of the female dancers in Hatari is not written to serve sexual ends. We are not trying to be as sexy as possible by performing our choreography. Different viewers have to make up their own minds on whether or not they consider us sexy. There is a lot to read into in the choreography: we are women, white and blonde, of child-rearing age, in tight vinyl suits, on heels, in straps, with contacts that cover our eyes completely. For some people women are automatically sexy, and some have particular opinions on the woman and what is and isn't sexy. For still more people, all of these elements make the woman on stage even sexier. The woman checks boxes and is marked with a certain stamp based on people's societally influenced opinions. But this is simply the opinion of individual people, and not a fact about the choreography or about us as the dancers.
Why is it so sensitive, taboo and sometimes negative to be sexy? Why is it sometimes forbidden? Are we offending people by by being the way we are? Can't we be sexy when we dance because we're women? Does that automatically make us sluts? Can't we just do it, because women have fought for the general rights of women, including the right to own themselves? Don't we own our own sexuality? Can't we be sexy because we could provoke sexual longings and thoughts in the more privileged sex, men? Are we automatically selling ourselves and opening our bodies up to scrutiny simply by being feminine? Simply by being women?
She quotes the Urban Dictionary definition of sexy, which focuses on the effect sexiness has on others, to drive the point home: someone or something which is sexually attractive, causes a stirring of sexual feelings and/or thoughts in others, is arousing. people can be described as sexy due to their physical appearance, behaviour, personality and other stuff.
The role of female dancers in Hatari
Sólbjört talks about how the rhythmic music of Hatari makes it appropriate to employ dance and movement in its live shows. She notes that the female dancers have been referred to as backup dancers in the foreign media, which, again, she feels is a negative portrayal. She quotes another Urban Dictionary definition: Backup Dancer: A person who isn't important. A person who hides in the shadow of someone else. A copycat.
I would not call the female dancers of Hatari backup dancers, even though they do usually dance behind (but also in front of) the main members of the band. That opinion comes from myself, one of the female dancers, and reflects how I feel when I stand on stage with Hatari, and my experience and self-image both as a dancer and as a Hatari dancer. In the development of the female dancers of Hatari, it was important to us that the woman on stage was strong and empowering, secure in herself, her sexuality and her femininity. The female dancer on the stage is not there simply for decoration.
Sólbjört goes on to quote a widely-shared newspaper article from Stundin from February 23rd 2019, shortly before Hatari's victory in the Söngvakeppnin final. This article, by dance critic and playwright Nína Hjálmarsdóttir, accused Hatari of being problematic in various ways: that their intention to protest the treatment of Palestine in Eurovision was a kind of white saviour complex, that the costumes evoked fascism and white supremacy, that they're appropriating BDSM culture (a prominent figure in the Icelandic BDSM society responded to this article pointing out that for the record the entire BDSM society adored Hatari and that they use their symbols respectfully and beautifully), and positing that "I had a hard time ignoring when they later added two female dancers to the stage, whose only role was as decoration to intensify the experience. The boys had taken on the appearance of power, while the women were shown as submissive, robotic and voiceless." It's clear that this last contention especially raised Sólbjört's hackles. She quotes an interview from news site Vísir where she responded to this accusation:
On the other hand, Sólbjört strongly disagrees that she is submissive, voiceless or decorative in her art. The presence of the female dancers in the act is strong and blunt, as it always has been in the staging of Hatari's concerts. She says that there is a great contrast between the costumes that makes the combination of music and visuals an interesting experience for the audience. The staging raises questions and can mean a lot of different things.
She then adds:
[...] I am of the opinion that the female dancers are not submissive or voiceless, though sometimes we are robotic, as seen by our movements. Nína calls us submissive in a negative sense in her article, and to publicly call a woman submissive and voiceless is in my opinion always an insult towards her. I am clearly biased, being one of the female dancers and a choreographer for the band, but the intention of the choreography and staging is not and never has been either submissive or voiceless. [...]
She talks about how movements can say a lot more than can ever be put into words, how Hatari places a rich emphasis on the visuals and uses the dance as part of the narrative, and how movements can either be in harmony with the music or clashing with it. She is fascinated by the relationship between music and movement. She's very conscious of her role as a female dancer and choreographer, but she is neither submissive nor voiceless and she is not decoration, and this is reflected in the choreography that she has created with other dancers. Although the dancers are playing characters or alter egos, those alter egos do reflect their real selves, and she feels that the characters as staged "radiate an incredibly strong yet feminine energy" that's empowering.
The word ['submissive'] in no way describes what the female dancers of Hatari do on stage. The dancer is not submissive to either Matthías or Klemens, even if the dancer doesn't play the primary role on the stage. And yet - each person should judge for themselves. The female dancers are incredibly empowering in their choreography and have a high status on the stage.
She points to the bit of the choreography for "Hatrið mun sigra" where Ástrós and Sólbjört hold Klemens' arms as he bows his head forward and raise him up.
The movements and the stage presence
Along with Erna Gunnarsdóttir, I began to develop the movement vocabulary for Hatari in early 2017. We worked with robotic and sharp movements, inspired by Beyoncé's choreography as well as the typical hand movements that backup dancers and singers have employed in Eurovision and at concerts in general. The choreography is in constant development, and over time we've included more and more feminine and empowering movements. It has always been clear to me what fits into the choreography and what doesn't, but the greatest inspiration for movements is the music itself and the feelings that it evokes in me. The movements were and are usually on beat with the music and have the ability to spice up and enhance the experience of the music. It's a kind of cycle; I don't think that it needs to be clear whether the music or the dance has the upper hand. After all, it's up to the audience to resolve the ambiguity and judge which is dominant.
The movement vocabulary includes a lot of standstill moves, as there is often limited room for large movements on the stages of many concert venues. The dance numbers are characterized by static, blunt, sharp movements, choreographed steps around the available space and large, prominent but minimalistic hand movements. We frequently work with poses, which we like to repeat and juxtapose with choreographed steps on the stage.
The presence on stage and intent of the dancer influences how the movement affects the audience. The presence and intent have to change in order for the movement to look different. If the dancer's character and intent on the stage for example go for submissiveness, that's what the movement will look like. The intent of the female dancers cooperating with Hatari has never been to paint the woman as submissive or voiceless, but to grant her the freedom to retain her feminine qualities and her sexiness while being empowering.
Contradictions in staging
There are contradictions underlying many aspects of the staging of Hatari's concerts. For one thing, there is a certain disparity between the costumes and movements. As one example, the costumes to some extent reference BDSM attire, as previously stated. The movements don't have a literal sexual motivation, but some of them are feminine, likely because they're performed by female bodies. The costumes are feminine and sexy, while some of the movements are simple steps, backwards or forwards, which are not exactly feminine or sexy movements. On the stage, therefore, there is a confluence of many factors, music, costumes, movements and so on, which evokes an emotional reaction in the audience that might be (for example) feminine, sexy, empowering, submissive, etc.
She points out that in the "Hatrið mun sigra" staging at Söngvakeppnin, the movements are not very sexy but are juxtaposed with costumes that she and many others would consider feminine and sexy.
The staging should provoke a lot of questions, and can mean a lot of different things. Hatari's staging contains nuances and opposites, and it in itself can always have infinite different meanings to the audience, whether we consider the lyrics or not. Klemens sings in a beautiful, high voice and is submissive to Matthías, who screams his lyrics. Einar is a drum gimp who never gets to speak, as he's dressed in a spiky mask. The female dancers are empowered women. The third dancer, Andrean, who is male, is the submissive one, which was a conscious decision for everyone in Hatari. If we consider the opposites and nuances of the staging of Hatrið mun sigra, there are several. Andrean represents the repressed soul of Matthías, and is like his dog on a leash. The drum gimp is stuck up on a platform, drumming to the rhythm of the song. Klemens is submissive to Matthías, but the female dancers are there to support him, singing and dancing with him, simultaneously empowering and feminine.
Hatrið mun sigra - Hatari's homecoming concert, May 23rd 2019
I, along with Ástrós and Andrean, continued to develop a choreography for Hatari's songs for the Gamla bíó concert. Some of the songs' choreography remained intact, other songs were altered completely, and new songs and thus new choreography were added. The first half of the rehearsal process went into teaching Ástrós the choreography and getting her into the movement vocabulary that I have used. The choreography is very sharp and rhythmic and the two female dancers should be completely in sync. We practiced old choreography, altered and improved and created new choreography. In April, we showed our instructor a near-complete choreography for the homecoming concert. It was interesting to receive critiques and comments on what I'd been doing from professional dancers, rather than devoted fans of Hatari. For example, we discussed whether it would be interesting to try to make the two female dancers' movements subtly different, even if it's only the position of one hip that's not quite the same. We also discussed the possibility of spicing up the choreography and adding in small details, such as changes to the rhythm and deviation from movements that follow the music beat for beat. In this process, I was firm in my opinion that in this context, it looks best if the female dancers are completely in sync and completely identical, that the choreography is either the same or mirrored down the middle of the stage. My dream would be to work on a performance art piece in collaboration with Hatari, where I would be willing to consider the discussed changes and spicing up, as there the audience is better able to focus on the visuals.
The concert began with an intro where the dancers and the drum gimp were in the foreground. I think it's an appropriate opener for a concert like this to not start with a traditional song, as it straddles the line between concert and performance art. After that came a few songs without the female dancers, until the start of the song Spillingardans, around the middle of the concert, at which point the female dancers came back in and remained on stage until the end of the concert. I think it's important to have a buildup over the course of the concert, so that you don't have dancers for every single song. I believe this because I feel this way the movements carry more weight and get more attention when they are present. The choreography for the song Klefi/Samed (Hatari x Bashar Murad) was created a few hours before the concert, as the song came out just after the concert. That was a real challenge, and we did not manage to be totally in sync on stage and had to improvise a bit.
It's always a challenge to get on the concert stage only a few days before the concert, more often than not on the day of, and place the movements in that space. In this case, we came in the day before the concert to check out the stage. Once we were up on the stage, we had a certain choreography ready and it was time to plan out exactly where on stage it would be best to place the dancers, for each song. For us, the female dancers, our positioning was at the edge of the stage on the left and right. Ástrós and I were on either side of center stage, which was where Andrean was when all of us were on stage. When Andrean was the only dancer on stage, he could use the entire stage. He used both planned improvisation and scripted movements. His character on the stage was developed and discussed by every member of the band, but his choreography is mostly carved out by himself very late in the rehearsal process, so I will not discuss it further. Andrean is the total opposite of the female dancers. He has created a character on the stage that is the most submissive of everyone there, while the female dancers have a very high status. The audience experiences Andrean's soft and submissive movements as a contrast to the blunt and often robotic movements of the female dancers.
We managed to do pretty much one quick rehearsal/sound check for the concert. In my work with Hatari, we've never managed to do more than that before a concert. It has been extremely educational to develop choreography for concerts, but I've also found that music people are a lot less organized than dancers and have different priorities, which is to some extent understandable since their expertise is in music. To me it's very important to be able to at least step onto the stage before the concert and feel the size and volume of the stage, but sometimes all we get is a half-hour sound check that's only good for going over a maximum of two or three songs. This summer, we'll go on stage for a few music festivals and will probably not even get a sound check. This time we had more time than we've had before on the stage, but that was because this was a concert dedicated to Hatari, rather than Hatari playing at a music festival where many bands need to do a sound check on the same day. This Hatari concert was the most complex one yet; for example we had a 20-person choir, a solo singer and a pianist, where choreographed stage entrances and exits are necessary. On the stage, which is not big, there was an extensive set, with a great effort put into setting up the lighting and screens for the visuals, and there wasn't a lot of room for the movements of three dancers. Personally, I would have liked to have one more rehearsal to perfect the staging, but I think it went very well, considering.
As for the technical aspects, we decided that we the dancers would not be wearing earpieces, but rather would use the onstage speakers to hear the music. In retrospect, earpieces would have worked better, as the cheering of the audience sometimes drowned out the music to the point it was hard to hear the rhythm in a few spots during the concert. There was a lot of cheering, and it's always incredibly rewarding to dance at a concert where the audience really gives the energy back.
Conclusion
Throughout this research and rehearsal process, I've found it's very important to me that the female dancers of Hatari are not interpreted as submissive and voiceless women. The process has given me confirmation of the awareness I've always had of the staging of the female dancers in Hatari, which I've occasionally doubted, especially when I receive negative commentary on the choreography. The research and the work with Hatari has made me a more confident choreographer than before, and it has taught me to stand by my own creative decisions.
I have tried and will continue to try to the best of my ability to communicate this empowering and feminine woman with movements alongside music on stage. Femininity is strong and beautiful, and it's very important not to sideline it just to avoid being accused of submissiveness. You can be a feminine feminist who celebrates sexuality. I could try to describe and analyze further the reaction that I'm trying to evoke on stage through movement, but in the end every viewer has to judge for themselves. When it comes to us, the female dancers, I try, as I've stated repeatedly, to give us an empowering role and evoke strong emotions in the audience about the woman who is dancing. The role of the female dancers in Hatari is important, and it's about being a visual medium intensifying and enhancing the concert experience.
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zukosturtleducks · 4 years
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Tag game!!! hehe
Thanks @atlalovingfuck for tagging me 😄
rules: answer 20 questions, then 5 more, & tag whoever you want
name: kim
nickname: kimmy
height: 5'6" i think??
languages: english, filipino, enough japanese and chinese to order at a restaurant but not enough to ask for directions
nationality: filipino
favorite season: there are only two seasons in the PH – dry or rainy, and rain is infinitely more inconvenient
favorite flower: do fire trees count?
favorite scent: ginger sauteeing in sesame oil. Reminds me of my dad cooking Sunday lunch
favorite color: teal
favorite animal: dogs no contest
favorite fictional character: zuko (honor!!!!!), ned stark (honor!!!!!), alphonse elric, himura kenshin, tahani al jamil, maito gai, hatake kakashi -- the list is very long
coffee, tea, or hot chocolate: (bubble) tea
average sleep: 8 to 9 hours but the time i fall asleep varies wildly
dogs or cats: DOGS
blankets: one or none depending on season
dream trip: world museum and food tour. If i had to choose one place only i would go to italy, the land of pasta and gelato
blog established: june ish, 2019?
followers: 1,721
random fact about me: i've been an alto (2) since i was nine
introvert or extrovert: introvert, but i am chafing more than i expected at the enforced quarantine
place to relax: my bed, (platonic) cuddling with friends
favorite snack: milk tea with grass jelly. I really love milk tea
recent shows: jeopardy, it's alive with brad leone, and gourmet makes
favorite video game: skyrim with 10000000 mods
Tagging @lookatthesetreasures @zuzuthejerkbender @zuzuthefirelord and @lightningbenders and anyone else who wants to do it!!
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rosalyn51 · 5 years
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King of the Castle
Every character, every line of dialogue, every plot twist in Downton Abbey has come from the mind of Julian Fellowes. As our favourite British aristocrats and their hardworking servants prepare for their big-screen debut, the Oscar-winning writer talks about reuniting the cast, creating complex characters and returning to Highclere Castle, Downton Abbey’s real-life setting
BY MARNI WEISZ [AUG/SEPT 2019 CINEPLEX MAGAZINE 28-31]
Downton ABBEY IS GETTING THE royal treatment. It’s 1927, two years after we last saw the aristocratic Crawley family and their steadfast servants at the end of Downton Abbey’s sixth and final season. Now, for the movie of the same name, King George V and Queen Mary (Queen Elizabeth’s grandparents) are coming for a royal visit.
The principal cast has all returned, including Hugh Bonneville and Elizabeth McGovern as Cora and Robert Crawley, a.k.a. the Earl and Countess of Grantham, Michelle Dockery and Laura Carmichael as their daughters Mary and Edith, Maggie Smith as the Dowager Countess, and, of course, the down- stairs floor full of servants, including Phyllis Logan as Mrs. Hughes and Jim Carter as Mr. Carson.
Highclere Castle is back, too, as Downton Abbey itself, which stands tall, cool and imposing as the world around it hurtles toward modernity. And, as if there were any alternative, once again the story comes from the mind of Julian Fellowes, the Oscar-winning writer (for Gosford Park) who penned every single episode of the series. They did experi- ment with using other writers during the first season, “but I ended up rewriting both episodes because it was very difficult for them to get the kind of rhythm of the show,” Fellowes explains over the phone from his London flat.
He’s sitting at the very desk where he wrote many of those episodes. It was his mother’s desk, Regency Revival with five drawers, a kneehole and a glass top.
How did it feel to have the gang all together again?
Actually, it was quite strange, really. I went down very early on to Highclere. I parked my car in the same place, I walked down the drive and there everyone was. They were all in their costumes and we’d go into the same rooms and there was something quite sur- real, really, because when we finished there we all thought that was it, that was the end.
The trailer is lovely with the household preparing for a visit from the King and Queen but there’s no death, no war, no murder trial, no car crash. Are we being set up here? In your words, tell me what does happen in the movie.
I can’t really say what does happen beyond the fact that the royal visit affects everyone, because it affects how the downstairs people get involved in it and how they’re treated, and the upstairs people, how they get involved and how it takes over their life for a period, and while it’s taking over their lives all the other stories in the movie come out of that. So, in a sense, that is the kind of trunk and the other stories are the branches.
How do you make a movie like this different than just watching a few episodes back to back?
Well, I think that is an interesting point because people differ when they make films out of televi- sion series. Sometimes people make them entirely different, and the whole cast goes off to Hawaii or something. Whereas others, they try to make a bigger, brighter, better version of the TV show that is more suited to the big screen and I would say of those two options we went with the latter. Far from anything else, we couldn’t really change the principal location because the house is one of the main characters in the show, and I can’t imagine making a very significant episode or movie without the house.
You hadn’t shot at Highclere Castle in a few years, the last episode aired in 2015. What happens when you’re not there?
Well it has its life, you know. The Carnarvons live there and they have various exhibitions and shows and demonstrations, and they also host a lot of charity functions and there are weddings. They are certainly a very hardworking family and they keep it turning over brilliantly.
Do they have Downton tours there now? Oh yes, yes. I mean, you have to book in, but you can go and see it, yes.
The film’s director, Michael Engler, helmed four episodes of Downton, but his résumé is largely made of American comedy series — 30 Rock, Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt, Brooklyn Nine-Nine, Sex and the City. Would you say he brings more of a comic eye to the film?
I think he has a very good comic eye, but I wouldn’t really say he altered the amount of comedy in Downton. It was always a reasonable slab and Maggie always had a few laughs in every episode. I mean, he did also direct my script of The Chaperone with Elizabeth McGovern, the movie. Again, it had some funny moments but it’s not a comedy in that sense. I think he’s quite at home in non-comedy.
I read that one of your peeves with American cinema is that characters tend to be good or bad, black or white. It made me think of Mary in particular, who is such a great character, bouncing back and forth between the two.
You’re right, I like to mix up people and give them sympathetic and unsympathetic things to do so you can’t make your mind up about them easily. I always get a little bit bored when you’re told this is the hero and that is the heroine and they are the baddies… [With Mary,] I’d like to think she’s human. She’s snobbish and rather self-important at times, but at the same time she has a reasonably kind heart and a reasonable sense of honour and wanting to do the right thing. I think you see all sides in the film.
Do you ever wonder who their grandchildren and great-grandchildren would be these days? What sort of lives they’d be living now?
Well of course it slightly depends on whether they’ve hung onto the house and the estate. I mean, quite a lot of families did, more than a lot of people think, and they are still in their houses, living differently, of course, calling their servants by their Christian names and being called by their Christian names in return. Not everyone, actually, there is still a bit of “my Lording” going on. I think now, to keep the houses and estates they must work harder at them. They must take it seriously and find out how to make money from them and what will be profitable, and so on. So in a sense they are living a much more hardworking life than their forebears.
That’s interesting.
But really we’re going into that time in the ’20s and really Mary is quite a hard worker, she’s no slouch. She and Branson work pretty hard to keep the estate going. So I think we’re already seeing that transition that Mary works harder than, for instance, Robert ever would have done at her age.
I’m curious what you watch on TV. When Downton ended, The Crown came in and filled a bit of a void. Did you watch The Crown?
I did watch The Crown, but I also love American series. I watched Mad Men, which I absolutely loved. I watched West Wing, I watched The Good Wife, I watched Scandal, and I am currently working my way through Grey’s Anatomy.
For many years you were a prolific actor, but you haven’t acted since 2005. Why is that?
Well, at first, I just found it was too difficult to find the time because I had a lot of writing work. I couldn’t fit them both in. I did the odd presentation of docu- mentaries and things and I did a series about English country houses and I went to Burghley and Goodwood and places. But in the end it was a question of the time, really.
Were you tempted to give yourself a small roll in Downton, as many actor/directors do?
[Laughs.] No, I’ve never done that. I feel that Alfred Hitchcock did that, he did it for all of us, really.
Any chance that if this one does well there will be another Downton Abbey movie?
Well there’s always that chance.
Marni Weisz is the editor of Cineplex Magazine.
DOWNTON ABBEY in Theaters Sept 20!
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skippyv20 · 5 years
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Oh! The HORROR!!! Say it isn’t so!!!
…and now, Kim Kardashian jumps on the, “defend the Markle-duo” poor, widdle victim-poo Megsie bandwagon???“ Maybe, just maybe Kimmie is just preparing for Megsie’s Royally endorsed, "prison tour?”
If only Kimmie knew the things Megsie  (allegedly) thinks about Kimmie; the “type” of person Kimmie is, the type of family from whence she comes, Kimmie’s hubby/& “fashion sense” (although admittedly, much better than Markle’s awful choices) & likely, even Kimmie’s children. (Is Megsie that low? I think so.)
What a world we are living in when Kim Kardashian can make millions self-promoting her illiterate self in vacuous, soft-porn poses (with a grotesquely inflated rear end); be  taken seriously to vouch for criminals (whom she’s doesn’t really know closely) to be released from prison; legally “intern” to become a lawyer (possibly w/o even a HS diploma & lacking average IQ) & then, find the royal family’s reputation to be so “celebrity-like” that it’s not too far from the norm to be part of the “Hollywood Hurray for the Harkles!” *sigh*
And, actually, one MUST give Kim credit for NOT lying about using a surrogate… (albeit with a ridiculously concocted, medical “necessity”), something you-know-who WOULDN’T do! (& actually went a little nuts with the fake-cradling as if no one knew!!!)
Well, what more can we say from the state that gave us Kim Kardashian, Doria Ragland/Radland/Ra-whatever & the Devious Duchess of Deceit?
JA
Officially MM is one of their clan now!😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂
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herocentral · 4 years
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Possible Hero 6
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Well folks heres chapter 2 of Possible Hero 6 and where the rest of the crew comes into play, there are some references to the movie in this part, but otherwise just enjoy.
Note: This is just for fun I don't own any of the characters in this story so no-one is allowed to copy, trace, steal etc without my permission.
Big Hero 6 & Kim Possible (c) Disney, 2020
Chapter 2: Sparks fly.
It’s a bright clear morning in the city of San Fransokyo, everyone was going about their normal day walking down the sidewalks and riding the cable cars. Near the city stood Krei tech industries the leading technological company in the city. Inside was the head office of the companies CEO and founder Alister Krei wearing a blue suit with a white shirt, blonde hair and grey blue eyes. He sits at his desk looking at his tablet when soon his assistant enters she has short black hair with glasses, wearing a grey long jacket with a white shirt and black pants.
“Excuse me Mr.Krei.” Said Judy entering the room. “Yes Judy what is it if it’s that reminder about, Jones’s incident with in the experimental tech division I’ll compensate him next week.” Krei said dryly. 
“No sir a Miss Kim Possible is here to see you.” Judy just said which caught Alister’s attention. 
“Kim Possible?” He said. “Yes the teen hero who fights bad guys.” Judy said. “Yes Judy I know who that is I watch the news.” Krei said. “Alright send her in.” 
As he did Judy went to the door, opening and walking in was Kim and Ron now in their mission outfits. 
“Mr. Krei.” Kim introduces “My names Kim Possible and this is Ron Stoppable.” 
“Yes Miss Possible I know who you are, I’m familiar with your reputation quite impressive.” Krei said standing from his desk and greeting them with a handshake. 
“So what can I do for you.” Krei then said. “Well it’s just we’ve heard recently that you’ve had a series of break ins at a number of your facilities.” Kim explained. 
“Break ins? Miss Possible, Krei tech has the most advanced security in the world.” Krei insisted
 “Actually Mr. Krei our security team has received reports of a number of our facilities have been broken into and several men were sent to the hospital.” Judy then added to which Kim raised an eyebrow to his ‘security.
“Ahem, yes well.” Krei said pulling his shirt collar. Kim then took out her Kimmunicator and contacted Wade. 
“Wade can you access the security cameras of the Krei tech facilities that were robbed?” Kim asked “Not a problem Kim.”
“Oh please you can’t just access our highly secure cameras.” Krei insisted but... “ Got it sending you a feed.” Wade then said and Krei just stood there gobsmacked. 
“Yeah Wades our secret weapon.” Ron said smugly. Rufus then appeared on Rons shoulder and gave him a high five. 
“Gah just keep that rodent away from me.” Krei said hiding behind his assistant. Rufus just frowned. 
Kim meanwhile was watching the security footage of the facility and saw a figure stealing something from a crate and the figure then turns round and Kim notices something. 
“Wade hold it there!” Kim said and Wade pauses the footage. “Now zoom in on her face.” The footage zooms in and it shows the face of a certain green and black suited woman that the teen hero recognised all too well. 
“Shego!” Kim said grinding her teeth. “What’s she doing here?” Ron asked. “Whoa that’s who’s broken into my facilities she looks rather, feisty.” Krei said admiring the green thief a bit. 
“Yeah trust me dude she ain’t your type.” Ron said. “Yep deadly.” Rufus squeaked. 
“Mr. Krei was there anything in those warehouses that could be considered dangerous.” Kim then asked. “Well those facilities only stored old or work in progress projects as well as a few classified projects.” Krei then said. 
This placed a concerned look on the faces of Kim and Ron’s faces. 
Later the two leave Krei tech discussing their recent findings. 
“So why’s Shego breaking into facilities anyway?” Ron asked. “I don’t know but where Shego is you can bet Drakken won’t be far behind.” Kim said then turning to her Kimmunicator. 
“Wade, any ideas as to what Shego stole from the facilities?” Kim asked. 
“No clue but I’ve mapped out all the facilities that Shego’s robbed over the past week.” Wade said then bringing up a map of San Fransokyo and all the Krei facilities that Shego had robbed marked in red dots.
“So far I haven’t found a pattern to the break ins but the only two she hasn’t hit are on the north and east sides of the city.” Wade explained. 
“And no idea which she’ll hit next.” Kim said. “Exactly.” Wade said “but I’ll look into it and see what I can find.” 
“Right mean time we best get to SFIT and meet my Dad for his lecture.” Kim then said looking at her watch. “Ah yeah early admission to College!” Ron said excitedly. 
San Fransokyo institute of Technology (SFIT)
San Fransokyo Institute of Technology, SFIT for short is the source of all the potential scientific minds in robotics, bio tech and more. It is also the campus attended by Hiro and Baymax. 
Kim and Ron soon arrive at the campus by cab and walk out to see the different campus buildings and the students walking by between classes. They were now in more casual attire, Kim was wearing a white shirt with a pink heart in the middle, and wore pink pants with white shoes. While Ron was in his normal red and white collared sports jersey with black under shirt, brown cargo pants and white sneakers. 
“Whoa, this place is more advanced than our school.” Ron said looking round. “Well it isn’t called an institute of technology for nothing Ron.” Kim pointed out. 
“Kimmy” called a voice and Kim looked to see her dad and the tweebs waiting for her outside the Ito Ishioka Robotics Lab. 
“Hey Dad sorry we were a little late, just had to do some mission work.” Kim then explained. “Well I’m glad your here now lets go inside.” James then said. “So where’s mrs Dr P?” Ron then asked. 
“Oh she’s meeting with Cass to talk about their old time’s in high school, she’ll meet up with us later.” James explained and entered the campus. 
Walking down the hallways they soon meet with a dark skinned woman with short hair, dressed in a black long sleeved shirt a grey dress and black heels. 
“Dr. James Possible, so glad you could make it.” Said Professor Granville greeting him with a hand shake. “Glad to be here Professor Granville.” James greeted. “These are my sons Jim and Tim and my daughter Kim.” He then introduced his children. “And I’m Ron stoppable here for the sights.” Ron then added. 
“Ah the infamous Kim Possible, I’ve heard a lot about you exploits around the world most impressive.” Professor Granville complimented. 
“Oh well thank you, Professor.” Kim said humbly. Just then Hiro and Baymax entered the campus and saw the people they met yesterday. 
“Dr. Possible” Hiro called and they turned to see Hiro and his robotic companion. “Oh hello Hiro.” James greeted. 
“Ah I see you’ve already met mr. Hamada one of our younger students.” Granville explains, “His brother Tadashi, was one of our finest.” 
“I, heard about that, and Professor Callaghan’s involvement.” James said rather down hearted. 
Something then got Hiro’s attention. “Wait, you knew Professor Callaghan?” He asked. 
“Yes, he was a tutor I had in college one of the toughest I ever had.” James explained. 
“Before joining SFIT Robert was a teacher at the Middleton Institute of Science and Technologies.” Professor Granville explained. 
“He taught me a lot and it lead to my career in rocket science.” James explained. “I still couldn’t believe it after I heard the news of what he did, attacking Krei tech, I always considered Robert to be a man of great principles.” 
“I’m sorry to hear that dad.” Kim said apologetically. 
“Yes what happened to Robert was tragic, grief and loss has a way of making even the most decent of men do things they wouldn’t do.” Granville said. 
“Loss?” Ron asked. “He thought he lost his daughter in an accident several years ago.” Hiro explained. “Yes but she’s alive and well still recovering from years in hyper sleep.” Baymax then explained. 
“Now to business if you would like to follow me Dr. Possible I’ll get you set up in the lecture hall.” Professor Granville said. “Okay Kimmy your in charge of the boys.” James told his daughter. 
“What!” The tweebs said annoyed. “You heard him tweebs.” Kim said with a smug look. 
“Mr. Hamada, perhaps you could show them round the campus.” Professor Granville suggested. “Uh okay, I was just on my way to my lab anyway.” Hiro agreed. 
“Very well I’ll leave them with you.” Then Granville noticed Rufus in Ron’s pocket. “I would suggest you keep your pet on you and away from any, delicate equipment.” Granville suggested in a rather strict tone. To which Ron nodded nervously. 
“I don’t know why but she reminds me a lot of Mr. Barkin.” Ron whispered to Kim. “Yeah Professor Granville tends to be a little strict especially to me at times.” Hiro then said. 
They then made their way down the hallway towards the robotics lab. However before they arrived Hiro accidentally bumped into a girl about sixteen years old, with tanned skin, brown eyes, brown hair, wears a pastel yellow sweater, orange mini skirt, has green and red bracelets on her left arm with black pants and black shoes. 
“Hey watch it Hamada.” Karmi said. “Sorry Karmi but you should watch where your going.” Hiro said in return. “Hello Karmi, I am..” “Yes yes I know who you are.” Karmi said interrupting Baymax. 
“Yeah well anyway I’m in the middle of giving these people a tour.” Hiro explained and Karmi looked to see Kim, Ron and the tweebs. However the moment she eyed Kim Karmi’s eyes just lit up in shock.
“Oh my, no way is… oh my!” Karmi said barely containing her excitement. “Y.. YOUR KIM POSSIBLE!” Karmi said pushing past Hiro and right up to Kim. 
“Uh yes that’s me.” Kim said stepping back a little. “Oh my gosh! OH MY GOSH OH MY GOSH OH MY GOSH!” Karmi said practically jumping up and down in excitement. 
“Uh what’s with you?” Hiro asks. “I’m face to face with the Kim Possible!” Karmi said in excitement. 
“When does her name have a The in it?” Hiro asked. “Oh of course you don’t know, Kim possible is a famous Teen Hero who fights super villains around the world.” Karmi explained showing Hiro, Kims website on her phone and several videos of Kim facing bad guys. 
“Wait so your a super hero?” Hiro said in surprise. “Yeah she can do anything!” Ron exclaimed “and I’m her sidekick!” 
“Your her sidekick?” Hiro then said. “Oh now I remember you your the one that always loses his pants.” Karmi remembered. “Oh come on its only been a few times.” Ron moaned. 
“Losing ones pants can be considered rather embarrassing.” Baymax then explained showing a diagram of embarrassment on his screen.
“Hey okay if I get a picture.” Karmi asked “Uh sure.” Kim said since Karmi was clearly a fan. So Karmi put her hand round Kim and took a selfie of her and Kim with a peace sign. 
“Oooo I’m so posting this!” Karmi said “Okay Karmi, if your done being a fan girl I have a tour to give.” Hiro said pushing Karmi away. 
“Oh sure it’s all about you we get it your a young genius but I’m still the one who got noticed.” Karmi said smugly. 
“Well, you don’t always have to hog the spotlight Karmi.” Hiro said irritated. “Not everyone can Hamada.” Karmi retorted. 
“Gah what makes someone like that!” Hiro groaned as he continued to the robotics lab. “Who was that?” Jim asked. 
“Oh that’s Karmi, she like me is a young genius and works with bio tech, but she’s also snarky, disdains me for stealing her spot light, not to mention can be impossible to work with.” Hiro listed. 
Ron couldn’t help but notice a similarity between Hiro and Karmi and a certain someone from their high school. 
“Whoa talk about deja vu.” Ron whispered to Kim. 
“What?” Said a confused Kim. “Come on KP that’s just like how you and Bonnie are the rival cycle of life.” Ron explained. “Ron it’s totally different.” Kim denied. 
Soon they arrived at the robotics lab and Hiro pushes open the doors, when Jim and Tim entered their jaws just dropped like anvils,Kim and Ron soon followed and couldn’t help but be amazed. They saw a work space filled with robotic equipment, like robot arms playing ping pong with other students, and others riding on top of small planks with wheels over ramps. 
“Whoa! this place is awesome!” Jim said. “Yep this is where the robotics magic happens.” Hiro said. Tim then noticed a yellow and purple metal bike hanging on some hangers. He went over to the bike to take a look. Jim noticed there were no pins holding the wheels to the bike. Tim placed his hand through it and heard a magnetic sound. 
‘Whoa!” Tim breathed. “Its electro mag suspension!” Jim noticed. “Hey!” Said a female voice. The Tweebs turned to see a young woman dressed in a white tank top shirt, grey jacket, ripped dark grey leggings underneath a pair of black shorts with red lines has black bare knuckle gloves on her hands, she has brown eyes, and short black hair with purple highlights. 
“Who are you two?” She asked “Oh Gogo its okay, their with me I’m giving them a tour with two others.” Hiro explained. 
Gogo who was chewing gum blew a bubble which then burst. “Whoa sweet bike” Ron said looking at it. “Yeah I’ve never seen electro mag suspension on a bike before.” Tim said amazed. 
“I know I said the same thing.” Hiro said. “Yep lower resistance, faster bike.” Gogo explained. “But not fast enough.” Gogo said removing the wheel and throwing it like a frisbee into a wheeled bin full of similar wheels. 
“yet.” Gogo said heading off to another part of the lab. “Well she’s cheery.” Kim said. “Yeah that’s Gogo.” Hiro said He then noticed another one of his friends working on a project. 
They went over to the workspace and saw a tall burly man, very muscular, and has smooth dreadlocks for hair with a yellow headband he wears a green sweater with a light green stripe across it and wears all black jikatabi shoes. He’s dark skinned with brown eyes and bearded. 
He has green safety goggles on his face as he set up the apparatus. 
“Hey Wasabi!” Hiro called getting his attention. “Hey Hiro.” Wasabi greeted with a fist bump and noticed the company he was keeping. 
“Who are they.” Wasabi asked. “Oh there the kids of Dr.James Possible I’m just giving them a look behind the robotic trenches at SFIT.” Hiro explained. “The rocket scientist?” Wasabi asked. “Yeah we are his kids.” Kim explained 
“They are I’m not, just along for the ride.” Ron pointed out. “Well your just in time.” Wasabi said as he picked up an apple and then tossed it between the metal rods which sliced the apple into thin shreds. 
Hiro grabbed one of the shredded pieces as fine as a piece of paper. “Whoa!” Jim and Tim said in unison. “Talk about thin cut!” Ron breathed and Rufus scurried up to Rons shoulder and held one of the shredded pieces. 
Wasabi then showed the machine was generating many green light beams. 
“Hm, laser induced plasma.” Kim observed. “Sweet! With magnetic confinement!” Tim said in amazement. 
“Both correct all for accurate precision.” Wasabi explained as he organised his workspace keeping everything straight and organised. 
“Wow talk about over organised how you find anything in this mess?” Ron asked. “I have a system, there’s a place for everything everything in its place.” Wasabi explained. “Need this a minute.” Gogo then stepped in and borrowed a wrench from his workspace messing up the rest. 
“What you can’t do that! This is anarchy society has rules!”  Wasabi complained as he went after Gogo. 
Just then they heard an explosion from another work space and they look to see a woman with lightly tanned skin, long honey orange hair with a yellow headband holding her fringe back, and is slightly tall and thin wearing yellow platform heels a yellow peter pan collared sweater with white leggings. She has green eyes and wears large lensed glasses in red. 
She appears to be caught in a green sticky goop explosion. She struggles to escape the goop until Baymax manages to pull her out.
“Thanks Baymax.” Honey Lemon “You are welcome Honey Lemon.” Baymax said in his mono tone voice. “I will scan you for injury.” He then scans for any sign of injuries. “Scan complete, you have sustained no injuries.” Baymax assessed. 
“You okay Honey Lemon.” Hiro asked. “Yes I’m fine Hiro, that’ll teach me not to mix the wrong mixtures together.” Honey Lemon said. 
“Well I’m just giving these guys a tour.” Hiro explained gesturing to Kim, Ron, Tim, Jim and Rufus (on Rons shoulder) 
Honey Lemon then noticed the red head in the group and instantly recognised her. “Wait, are you Kim Possible, super teen and daughter to Doctors, James and Ann Possible.” Honey Lemon asked.
“Yep.” Kim said. “Wow it’s so nice to meet you!” Honey Lemon said shaking her hand, and then Rons and she noticed a certain naked mole rat on his shoulder. 
“Aww who’s this little fella?” Honey Lemon cooed. “Oh that’s Rufus, he’s a naked mole rat.” Ron explained “Oh well that’s kinda cool I guess.” Hiro said “so what’s your thing?” Kim then asked
“Oh advanced chemistry, in fact wait here a second.” Honey Lemon rushed off from her lab then a second later she came back rolling in a huge grey ball and carefully moved it to her work lab. 
“Whoa is that tungsten carbide?” Tim asked. “Yep four hundred pounds of it.” Honey said excitedly. “Now watch this!” she then went over to her chemistry set and began adding certain chemicals. 
“A dash of pyloric acid, a smidge of Cobalt, a hint hydrogen peroxide…” As Honey Lemon explained everything to the Tweebs, Kim and Ron the mixture went through the tubes and into a small spherical jar, Honey took out a heat gun and heated up the mixture.
“Super heated to 500 kelvin and….” The mixture Honey creates is now bright pink in colour and attaches a spray tube to the top and sprays the sphere of Tungsten Carbine. She flicks a lever on her lab wall and it sends out electricity binding the spray to the metal making into a bright pink sphere.
“Tada! Pretty cool right.” Honey said excitedly. However the audience was more than a little confused. 
“Uh its, pretty?” Kim said smiling nervously. “Yeah so Pink.” Ron agreed. “I don’t get it?” Jim asked. 
“Well watch this is the best part.” Honey Lemon then said as she approached the sphere Hiro took a step back as he knew what was coming next. 
“I suggest you step back.” Baymax advised, and so they did just as Honey touched the sphere and it exploded into pink dust. 
“Whoa!” Ron said in surprise. “Chemical metal embrittlement!” Kim said in surprise. “Exactamundo!” Honey said. She was covered in pink dust and removed her glasses to reveal not all of her face was covered in dust. 
“This place is awesome!” Jim said excitedly. “We’re SO enrolling here when we’re older!” Tim agreed. 
“Explosive as always Honey Lemon.” Hiro complimented. 
“So what’s with everyones names I mean, Honey Lemon, Gogo, Wasabi? were you guys born with those names.” Ron asked as the rest of Hiro’s friends came over. 
“For the record I only spilt wasabi on my shirt ONCE!” Wasabi stated quite clear. “Well they’re just nicknames we use but they just stuck after a while.” Gogo explained. 
“Yeah and Freds the mastermind who came up with them.” Hiro then said. 
“Uh who’s Fred?” Ron asked as Rufus looked confused unbeknownst to them there was someone standing behind him.
“This guy right here!” Said a muffled voice and Ron turned to see a green skinned monster with large yellow eyes with Diamond black eyes large black and orange fins on its head and back with an orange spot on its belly. It carried a sign with the SFIT logo on it.
Rufus and Ron screamed at the sight of the monster. 
“Ah ah don’t be alarmed.” Said the monster but its mouth didn’t move. Its arm then flopped and its mouth then opened to reveal the monster was just a suit and inside was a tall shaggy young man with long blonde brown hair, blue eyes and wears a bright green bobby hat with an image of Kaiju monster on it, he wore a white long sleeve shirt under a light red t-shirt with a Japanese Kaiju monster imprint on the lower end of the shirt. He wore dark green OD cargo shorts  and white grime-covered sneakers with dark green laces under his monster costume.
“It is just a suit this is not my actual face and body.” Fred explained. “The names Fred.” He then said shaking Rons hand. 
“School mascot by day!.” Fred said in a dramatic pose. “but by night…” He swings the sign round and flips it before he catches it and shows it off fully removing the top of the monster head. 
“I am also the school mascot.” Fred finished. “Sweet I’m the mascot back at my school too, the Middleton Mad dog.” Ron said. 
“Dude is that a naked mole rat?” Fred noticed. “Yeah his names Rufus.” Ron explained showing his small friend to Fred. “hello.” Rufus chirped. “Dude that is so cool!” Fred said much to Rufus’s joy. 
“So what’s your thing Fred?” Said a voice and saw it was Kim. “NO WAY Are you Kim Possible!” Fred said excitedly. 
Kim just nodded and went with all the fandom she was getting today. “Oh man this is so awesome!” Fred said excitedly. “This girl is a super hero who saves the world every single day!” Fred said. 
“Seriously?” Gogo asked. “Yeah we do.” Ron admitted “Yeah it's so no big.” Kim tried to say humbly. 
“Now to answer your question, I’m not a student, but I am a major science enthusiast.” Fred explained. 
Kim looked at Gogo and Wasabi all confused. “His families rich they fund the school.” Wasabi explained. “Yeah his full name is Fred Fredrickson.” Gogo said. 
“Ah I see. One of San Fransokyo’s rich society.” Kim said understanding. 
“No way!” Ron said in amazement “You have Monsterzilla issue 3.” “Yeah bought and owned.” Fred said as Ron was looking at some of the comic books he had brought to read in the lab. “Wow looks like Freds got a new BF.” Honey said. 
Later Hiro and the rest of the gang showed Kim, Ron, Rufus and the Tweebs around the campus looking at sites like  Periodic table Cafe, and the recently built Tadashi Hamada hall. Hiro explained how it was the show hall for the SFIT showcase where the fire took place. Kim couldn’t help but feel sorry for Hiro, she had faced a lot of villains in the past but no-one ever got hurt or lost anyone. No one deserved to lose someone the way he did. Gogo then explained how they rebuilt the hall and named it in Tadashi’s honour. 
During the tour Ron began to bond with the group especially Fred, as like him he had a good taste in comic books, video games and food, though Wasabi was a little freaked by Rufus he did get along with Ron too. Kim took time to adjust to Honeys enthusiastic attitude but did admire her enthusiasm and Gogo did bring some of their conversations back down to earth so to speak. 
Soon it was time for Dr. Possibles lecture to begin and everyone went to take their seats in the lecture hall. Hiro, Wasabi, Gogo and Honey Lemon sat together as a group whilst Kim, Ron and the Tweebs sat in the fourth row near the stage. Fred not being a student sat outside the door with Baymax until the lecture was over.
Later Ann arrived to see her husbands lecture, and took her seat next to her children and Ron. 
Professor Granville then came up to the lecture stage to make her announcement. 
“Students, welcome to todays lecture on the future of rocket science and robotics.” She announced “I would like to welcome todays visiting lecturer to show us the advancements and progress of rocket science.” Granville then gestures to the left of the stage. 
‘Dr. James Possible, of the Middleton space centre.” 
Dr. James Possible then walked up on the stage in his grey suit with a white shirt and black tie and took his place on the lecture stage. 
“Thank you Professor Granville.” James thanked. “You know when I look at all you young students, I see the same potential for greatness that my teachers saw in me and my classmates. We all have the potential for great things be it robotics, bio tech or even the arts. That same potential guided the first astronauts into space braving the unknown which has lead to the endless potential in the new ideas we develop in the advancements in rocket science.” 
As the lecture continued unbeknownst to everyone who was paying attention, two individuals had snuck into the lecture hall wearing black trench coats and headed towards the stage. The sleeve of the shortest of the two revealed a small bracelet device grey in colour and had blue highlighted lines. 
“However we must remember that potential could be good or bad, so today I shall show you some of the advancements in Rocket science today and my own personal experiences in the field.” Dr.Possible explained, as he did the mysterious figures started to make their way up to the stage. 
“And don’t worry I brought pictures.” James then joked to which the students laughed. 
However all of a sudden the lights in the lecture hall exploded one by one spooking everyone in the lecture hall. Sparks of blue electricity could be seen flying around and on the stage stood the two mysterious individuals in one flash they discarded their trench coats to reveal a certain mother daughter duo. 
Their attire resembled that of fashion from the 80’s they wear similar outfits, the daughters being a black sleeveless dress with a purple lighting bolt on it, a pink belt with a cyan coloured belt buckle, black boots and gauntlets with cyan power lines and wore purple leg warmers. 
Her mother wore a similar outfit except hers is a one-shouldered and has purples sleeves, tights and pink leg warmers. They both share similar pink stared earrings and cyan eye shadow, the mothers in the shape of a lighting bolt on her right eye. 
“Hope you don’t mind we add a spark to this lecture doc!” Juniper said showing her shock power to empathise. 
James could only look in shock as these two individuals appeared out of nowhere crashing his lecture. Kim and Ron saw from their seats that these two had no good intentions and Kim acting on instinct quickly jumped and flipped onto the stage in front of her dad to protect him. 
“You know it’s rude to show up uninvited?” Kim said in a combat stance. 
“I’m sorry who are you?” Barb asked with a raised eyebrow. “Mom that’s Kim Possible, you know that teen hero from the news.” Juniper 
“Yeah and you two would be?” Kim asked. “I’m Barb!” Said the mother. “And I’m Juniper” Juniper then introduced 
“Together, we're High Voltage! Power Surge!” They introduced using their electric powers to write the words ‘High Voltage’ to empathise their name. 
“So electrical villians?” Ron said as he got up on stage. “Eh I guess we’ve been due one of those.” He then shrugged.
“So who’s your tailor don’t you know it’s so not the eighties anymore!” Kim then cracked at their attire. 
“Everyones a critic!” Barb said the duo then began dancing hip hop style and from their electricity orb shot bolts of lighting towards Kim and Ron who were able to jump clear. 
“Whoa! electrical villains who can dance!” Ron said in surprise. “Dad get off the stage and get mom and the boys to safety!” Kim said to her father. 
“Now Kimmy you know I don’t do violence but you go girl!” James said as he made his way off stage. The rest of the students quickly evacuated the lecture hall under guidance by Professor Granville. 
“Everyone stay calm!” She said. However a certain group of students didn’t leave the area around the lecture hall and headed round back. 
Hiro and the team unlocked their phones and pressed a certain symbol representing a capsule sending out a signal. Then a few seconds later arrived six capsules each in the teams respective colours and bearing their BH6 symbols. 
Hiro’s was purple with the symbol of his micro-bots in the shape of an ‘H’, Baymax’s was red with his face as the symbol, Honey Lemons was bright pink with a flying chem-ball symbol, Gogo’s was in yellow with a spinning disc symbol, Wadabi’s a shade of turquoise green with his energy blade as the symbol and finally Freds which was blue with his Kaiju monster symbol. 
The Skymax capsules land and open their front compartments to reveal the teams respective armours. 
Back in the lecture theatre High Voltage danced their hips off in their routine and shot electrical bolts towards Kim and in the background its as if you could hear High Voltage’s theme song. 
Kim using her skilled acrobatics was able to avoid the electrical blasts and gets in close enough to fight the mother daughter duo. However the two were also skilled acrobats and avoided Kim’s punches and round house kicks. 
The two then did several back flips and jumped away from Kim before firing a jolt of electricity towards Kim who was just able to avoid them in time. 
“Wow your good where’d you learn?” Juniper asked “Cheerleading.” Kim answered while catching her breath. “No way I tried out for cheer leading once, didn’t make the cut!” Juniper said a little irritated. 
“With a look like that I can see why” Kim smirked. 
The mother daughter duo then shot another bolt of electricity but before it could hit Kim jumped to avoid it and quickly grabbed Junipers wrist before she could fire another bolt. The bolt hit the ceiling and a tile fell from the cieling. 
Below Kims family was hurrying to escape but Ann tripped and fell to the ground right under the piece of ceiling that was falling down. 
“Honey!” James cried in fright and Ann looked up and could see she was about to get hit by the ceiling fragment. However something arrived in time to stop it. 
She looked up and saw a giant red armoured robot with red purple spots on his shoulder pads and hands holding the ceiling fragment up. 
“W-what?” Ann said in shock. “I suggest you vacate the premies for your own safety.” Baymax advised in his monotone voice. 
Ann quickly got up and went to her family who were relieved to see her unharmed. Jim and Tim could hardly believe what they were seeing when they looked at the armoured robot, but the surprises weren’t over yet. 
Kim was starting to lose ground on High Voltage, she just managed to avoid another bolt of electricity before tripping off the stage and landing in the seats. 
“Hang on KP!” Called Ron as he ran over help his friend only for Barb to zap him with a bolt of electricity and send him flying into the seats and sends Rufus flying out of his pocket and onto the floor. 
“Ron!” Kim cried, soon High Voltage’s attention was back on Kim who were about to zap her with electricity when suddenly. 
A flying yellow disc intercepted the blast and flew back to the one who threw it. Standing in the lecture theatre was six certain super heroes armoured up and ready to fight. Kim and Ron looked in complete surprise to see these armoured individuals and how they arrived. 
“Long time no see High Voltage!” Gogo said and thankfully  her helmet voice modulator disguised her voice, as well as her teammates so no-one who knows them would see its them. 
“Oh look if it isn’t Big Hero 6.” Juniper said. “Big Hero what?” Kim said in surprise. 
“Oh you have your electro orb thingy back.” Fredzilla noticed. “Why got bored of using Krei’s stolen tech.” Hiro asked. 
“Funny you should ask, after we broke out of jail we found our old electro orb and ditched the batteries.” Juniper explained. 
“And we have a new routine just for you six!” Barb said. 
The duo tapped their feet and performed several flips before firming bolts of electricity at the six heroes, who quickly scatter to avoid them. Gogo uses her mag lev discs to avoid the blasts then throws her hand disks at High Voltage who lean back to avoid them as they return to sender. 
Honey Lemon tapped on multiple buttons on her Chem purse to produce several small balls in blue. 
“We’ve got to cut off their power target the orb!” Hiro said remembering how they beat the duo on their first encounter. 
“On it!” Honey said as she rushed forwards “Gogo keep them distracted!” Hiro relayed. Gogo nodded and skated around the room drawing their fire whilst Honey Lemon threw her chem-balls at the duo to try and hold them down. However they double back flip out of the way.
“Juniper more sparkle in that smile and dance those hips!” Barb said dancing as she generated electricity.
“On it!” Juniper said and danced to fire electric bolts towards Honey Lemon who quickly avoided the, blasts but was hit by an energy ball thrown by Juniper she was sent flying into the air. She was quickly caught by Baymax as he flew into the air with Hiro on his back. 
“Thanks Baymax.” Honey Lemon thanked “you are welcome.” Baymax replied. Then quickly avoided another electrical blast. 
“Juniper double act five six seven eight!” Barn said and they began dancing in sequence and blasted energy blasts at Baymax who avoided the first two but just missed the third. Before the duo could ready the next blast a certain teen hero jumped in and tripped them up with a leg swipe. 
“All that talent and you decide to commit crimes rather than go on American Star maker?” Kim cracked. 
“What and face that fickle judge I don’t think so, we are telling our story through dance and Juniper is number one!” Juniper exclaimed as she stood up. “You mean we’re number one honey!” Barb reminded strictly. 
This distraction gave Wasabi and Fredzilla the chance to act Wasabi readied his plasma blades whilst Fred charged in mouth blazing literally. 
“Back into the fire!” He exclaimed but Barb quickly blasted him with electricity Wasabi acts quickly and slides under him as he crashes into the stands. Fred gets up and looks to Ron who’s stood right next to him. 
“Oh hey.” Fredzilla said and thanks to his suit Ron couldn’t recognise his voice. “Ah!” Ron screamed and Rufus jumped in fright. 
Wasabi sliced his blades at High Voltage as they tried hitting him with electricity but dodged them. Kim then comes in from the right with punches and roundhouse kicks. 
“We need room to dance!” Barb said and the duo back flip away then Juniper does squat dancing firing bolts of electricity from her feet Wasabi tries his best to avoid the bolts but trips up. Kim was able to avoid them using back flips and lands next to Wasabi. 
“I’ve heard of crazy dance offs but this is ridiculous!” Kim said. “Yeah she has her moms thighs” Wasabi pointed out. 
Baymax quickly flew into the scene with Hiro in tow, however as they came in close High Voltage blasts the red robot which shorts out Baymax’s circuits. 
“Oh no.” Baymax said as he came to a quick halt flinging Hiro off his back and landing on the stage. 
“Didn’t you learn from last time to our red there and bolts don’t mix I thought you were smarter than that?” Barb questioned 
“Yeah I am, but that was just my job distracting you.” Hiro smirked then out of nowhere Gogo leaps in and Honey Lemon throws her some chem-balls which she caught and as she grabbed the electro orb the chem balls insulated Gogos gloves to prevent her from being electrocuted. She lands on the opposite end of the stage. 
“Lights out ladies.” Gogo said. “Aw yeah the catchphrase!” Fredzilla said. 
The duo try to use their electricity powers but without the orb their cut off from their power source. 
“Time for a Michael Jackson Mom!” Juniper said. “Yeah honey let’s beat it!” The two said making a run for it but Kim quickly flips towards them and lands in front of them pulling out her grappling hair dryer and fires a cable which wraps around their legs tripping them up. 
“So not.” Kim smirked. “Booyah! Kim!” Ron cheered. 
“Nicely done.” Gogo complimented but slightly darkened her visor a little as did the others. Soon they heard Baymax get up again after rebooting his systems. 
“My systems are rebooted, is everyone unharmed?” He asked. “Yeah we’re good.” Hiro said 
“Okay so who are you guys?” Kim asked in a slightly demanding tone. 
“Oh we’re Big Hero 6, a pleasure to meet you Miss Possible.” Hiro said but disguised his voice so she wouldn’t recognise it was him. 
“Yeah we’re the super heroes of the city!” Fredzilla said.
Soon the sound of police sirens could be heard from a distance and it was the police. Big Hero 6 climbed aboard Baymax and he formed his wings on his back.
“Thank you for your service.” Baymax waved as they took to the sky leaving Kim all but surprised. 
“Whoa, now they’re cool super heroes!” Ron said amazed. 
Several minutes later the San Fransokyo Police arrived at SFIT they sealed off the crime scene whilst two officers took High Voltage into custody. The other students on campus were unharmed.
Soon Kim and Ron found the other Possibles outside the building. The family then noticed the two approach. 
“Kimmy you okay?” Ann asked, “No big but I should be asking you that mom, are you okay.” Kim then asked in concern. 
“I’m fine honey thanks to that red robot.” Ann assured. ‘Yeah you see that thing now that was an awesome robot!” Jim said excitedly. “Yeah and those other guys with the blades and discs beyond amazing!” Tim agreed. 
They then noticed a certain group of students and their robot approach them. 
“Yep that’s Big Hero 6 for you, always here to help.” Hiro said. “Big Hero 6, cool name.” Tim said. 
“How’d you know their name?” Kim asked with a raised eyebrow? “Oh well we heard about them in the news.” Hiro covered up. 
“For once Hamada’s right.” Karmi said as she came over and showed Kim her phone and she and Ron looked to see a news paper about the six heroes after the incident at Krei tech. 
“Big Hero 6 saved the city from super villains and appeared about a few months ago after stopping the attack at Krei tech.” Karmi explained. “Not to mention they’re lead by a cutie.” Karmi said lovingly. 
Hiro just rolled his eyes at how oblivious Karmi was and how she hadn’t guessed who her ‘cutie’ really is. 
They then overheard a conversation between two police officers. “Sir we just got word from the precinct, there’s been a break in at a Krei warehouse north of the city.” Said one officer to another. 
Kim and Ron looked at each other thinking the same thing while Hiro and his friends looked in surprise too but didn’t know that both groups were thinking the same thing. 
Drakken’s lair
Far side of the city in Drakken’s new lair Shego had returned this time with the cyber circuit she previously tried to steal from the Krei tech warehouse. Drakken turned round to see that his partner in crime had returned.
“Ah I see we were able to benefit from our bait and switch.” Drakken smiled. 
“Yeah I got your stupid circuit even if we did have to reach out to a couple of amateurs dressed like a lame eighties band.” Shego said placing the circuit on the table. 
“Fashion critics aside Shego, the plan worked they caused chaos long enough for you to get the circuit without getting caught by the police or those Big Hero 6 guys.” Drakken explained.
Just then Drakken’s phone rang and he reached into his pocket and pulled it out to answer it. 
“Yes Dr.Drakken.” Drakken answered and the person on the other line spoke to him “yes.” Drakken nodded, “Yes of course, we’ll be there.” Drakken then hung up the phone.
“What was that about?” Shego asked “That Shego was our benefactor he wants us to meet him at a place he calls, good luck alley.” Drakken explained.
“Good luck alley, who names these streets?” Shego asks. “Come we must not keep him waiting.” Drakken said reaching for a trench coat on a coat hanger. 
Back at the hotel
At the hotel where the Possibles were staying during their trip Kim was in her room with Ron talking with Wade about recent events while Rufus is enjoying some peanuts that came with the room.  
“According to the police report Krei techs warehouse was robbed during the time these High Voltage villians attacked SFIT.” Wade relayed over the Kimmunicator. 
“Coincidence?” Ron said shrugging. “Doubt it, my guess that dancing duo was just a distraction to keep us busy whilst Shego pulled the heist.” Kim surmised. 
“From what I can tell she made off with a cyber circut drive something Krei tech was working on for one of their robotics project, what Drakken could use it for I’m not sure.” Wade then said. 
“So in other words we don’t know where Drakken is or what he’s up to.” Kim concluded. “Yep pretty much.” Wade answered. “Well that’s dead endish.” Ron said
Kim could only sigh knowing there was no way to learn what Drakken has been doing in this city before they arrived, however she did have one possible theory.
“Wade keep digging into Drakken but before you do, could you look up some info on a group of people called Big Hero 6?” She then asked. 
Wade did some typing on his keyboard and soon found some information on what Kim was talking about. 
“Well not much is known about Big Hero 6 except they’re a group of super heroes who protect the city of San Fransokyo.” Wade explained. “According to some newspaper articles they appeared around several months ago when they stopped a masked villain named Yokai from using an experimental portal from destroying the Krei tech campus. They stopped him and saved one other person, a test pilot by the name of Abigail Callaghan.” 
“Callaghan?!” Kim breathed as she’d heard that name before. “Wait ain’t that the name of the guy who worked at SFIT?” Ron asked. 
“Yeah.” Kim said and then remembered something. 
“Wade anything about a fire at SFIT?” Kim then asked. “Yeah there is apparently he started it to fake his death so no one would suspect it was him under the mask, but the fire claimed one other victim, a student by the name of Tadashi Hamada.” Wade then explained.
“Hiro’s brother.” Kim said slightly shocked. “Oh man.” Ron breathed whilst Rufus just looked in despair.
“Anything else?” Kim then asked. “Well other than several fan fictions written by someone by the name of Karmi which are quite popular.” Wade then informed. “What how come we don’t get people writing fan fictions about us!” Ron moaned. 
“Uh actually you do, some rather interesting even team ups with comic book heroes, others a little dark.” Wade then explained “I’ll keep digging and see what else I can find.” “Please and thank you.” Kim thanked. 
However she couldn’t help but wonder about the six heroes that stopped High Voltage today, the way they fought them and the tech they used somehow seemed familiar to her. Not to mention there’s the recently discovered connection to the fire at SFIT, the death of Hiro’s brother and the attack at Krei tech months ago, could it be a coincidence or something else? 
Good Luck Alley.
Later as night fell in a darker part of the city lay a single alley full of shady figures and misfit criminals. Drakken and Shego walked down this alley passing all the criminals such as Felony Carl shaking a person “Quite literally” for money. 
They soon arrived where they needed to go and entered to find something going on in the ring were a couple of small robots fighting each other in a ring. 
“Hm, not my kinda place but dark alleys are the next best thing.” Shego observed. “Now Shego when we meet with him I shall do the talking.” Drakken advised. 
They soon went in the back and are greeted by a woman with pale skin, red lips and black hair in a traditional Japanese hairstyle.Wearing a pink tank top shirt and purple shorts and wore an eyepatch over left eye. 
“I’m here to see your employer.” Drakken said simply. The Bot fight ring leader just looked at the two new comers and then lead them further into the club. Soon they arrived at an office above the bot fighting ring. They are then greeted by a rather large obese man almost similar to a sumo wrestler. wearing a dark blue tack suit with yellow stripes and a Japanese symbol on the back. 
It was Yama head of the bot fighting ring and a known player in the criminal underworld of San Fransokyo. 
End of Chapter 2
Welp, that's it for chapter 2 folks, and I told you Obake wasn't Drakkens partner in this escapade but who knows he may show up again later down the line. Now as regards the villains who crashed the party I was originally going to have the Mad Jacks crash Mr. Dr P’s lecture but it seemed to make more sense to have High voltage perform the deed, after all they seem like the kind of people that Drakken would employ just to keep Teen Heroes off his back. 
Another thing I thought it be a good element to have Dr. James Possible have a history with Professor Callaghan pre SFIT as I thought that would add more to his story. 
Anyhow now Team Possible have had their first meeting with BH6 and it looks like Kims beginning to wonder about them, hm what will happen next well don't worry I’ll have chapter 3 written in due course but I do have Uni work to think about. But don’t threat I’ll be back with chapter 3 of this crossover soon.
Until then Boyah! 
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