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#We got this wow there's no english word for it but this bonfire in a structure so like a grill but not a grill
telemarcs · 4 years
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Think i'm gonna take a little tumblr break, i'm still here if anyone wanna talk, and i might occasionally post a draft, but right now i just wanna live out my cottage core dream 💛🌻
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cesabutterflywrites · 3 years
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Prince in the Storm: Chapter Sixteen
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Summary: Contrary to popular belief, Virgil was sensitive. Most people saw him as some “spooky, broody dude”, when in reality he was just a private person. Teachers tried to open his mind up with a figurative crowbar. Everyone tried to get him to open up. Well, everyone except his best friend Talyn. They were the only one who understood his personality and inner workings just enough to be his friend. However, they haven’t seen his Marking. No one other than his parents have. Contrary to popular belief, Roman was sensitive. Most people saw him as a fanciful, dreamy, somewhat egotistical thespian who wanted nothing but to be the best of the best. Everyone cheered him on in his performances. Everyone praised his original works. Anything he made others enjoyed. People would whisper about his Marking, wondering where it was and when he would reveal it. He had a whole circle of friends, yet no one except his best friend Joan understood him. Joan was the only one who saw Roman’s insecurities. As students of Kingston High School, with zany principals and try-hard superintendents, it is up to Virgil and Roman to stay alive enough to fulfill their destiny. Ao3
Word Count:  6129
Chapter Warnings: none
Prologue, Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine, Chapter Ten, Chapter Eleven, Chapter Twelve, Chapter Thirteen, Chapter Fourteen, Chapter Fifteen, Chapter Sixteen
Bonuses: Immune to Change
Roman woke up with his head at the foot of his bed, hugging his pillow, and his notebook open on the floor. He didn't remember falling asleep. He didn't remember dreaming. He definitely didn’t remember why he had drool stuck to his cheek. He rolled over to shut off his alarm on his nightstand. That's when it dawned on him. 
He didn't remember dreaming. 
He shot upwards. His heart was pounding. Was this a sign? Were he and Virgil on the right path? He hadn't believed that mumbo jumbo about Soulmate Magic and dreams when Joan told him in the beginning of the school year. When Roman talked about his weird nightmare that Virgil had started to play a small role in. Was that only 6 weeks ago? 
But why would they stop when he finally felt comfortable around Virgil? What did it all mean? He really needed to ask Joan for those articles again. Maybe they weren’t mystical mumbo jumbo after all. He should have been paying more attention to them when he was obsessing over the nightmares in the beginning of the school year. After all, internet articles weren’t always unreliable sources, right? 
Roman sat at his vanity mirror. His reflection had changed from what he’d been seeing for the past two weeks. He looked brighter. It was like the depressive haze since their first kiss was thinning. He could see the light at the end of the tunnel. His eyes looked crinkled from the wide smile on his face as he gazed into his reflection’s eyes. 
Humming a tune from Tangled, Roman combed through his hair. Linda didn't seem up to her usual antics. That rebellious strand of hair was actually laying down with the rest of his hairdo. 
He looked...good. Not quite like his old self. This confidence was  more...genuine. Happiness looked good on him. Is this what other people saw in him when he walked through the halls? A young man who just radiated the energy of sunny attraction? Or was this a new sight in general? Was he seeing himself clearly, or for the first time? 
His hair was caught in a beam of early morning sunlight, bringing out the strands of gold and red that only appeared in the purest of lighting. He resisted the urge to blink as he inspected his eyes. Had the golden brown always been so rich? Was the sun just in a good spot in the sky shining through his window, or was he finally seeing himself the way he’s wanted to since he was a child? 
Closing his eyes, Roman took in a deep inhale through his nose. He tried to  remember that stormy night when Patton spoke with an anxious Virgil. Smell the rose? 
He opened his eyes on the exhale. The morning so far tasted sweet to him. A beginning. A fresh start. 
With bold proclamation, he recited his affirmations to his reflection. He sang 
them to the tune he’d been using since he first came up with them in the eighth grade.
“ I am pretty
I am a star
I am an artist
I am perfect
I am a prince ”
When he had first written those affirmations down, Joan teased him because he used ‘Prince’ instead of ‘King’, like his last name. Roman explained it to them as best as he could. Princes were at the beginning of their journeys. Princes got to perform, they got to explore. He told Joan all those years ago that he’d change it to King when he was older and had enough life experiences under his belt. Or when he was ready to settle down with his true love.
Roman sighed as he remembered that day while getting dressed. He wondered if Joan actually did understand, or if they had just nodded to get him to shut up. 
No, that wasn’t true. Joan was the only person who understood him. Even though by now Joan had probably forgotten about the affirmations. They didn't know he still did them five years later. It wasn’t something that really had a place in everyday conversation. 
Half an hour later, Roman was pulling up to the student parking lot earlier than usual. That’s what happens when one gets decent sleep , he supposed. There were a few students milling about. The air was getting crisper. The summer humidity had changed to a fall humidity (the difference only noticeable to a long time resident of Parkwill, of course). Roman was glad he had decided to leave his jacket at home. Any rain that came wouldn’t be too bad. It would probably be more misty than anything. 
He made his way to his first class on the second floor, English with an old man named Mr. Richardson. He needed to ask for an extension on his essay. He had been ignoring most of his homework in his depression since Virgil kissed him. He wondered how he’d be feeling after their date. Would he be in such a joyous high that he’d continue to ignore his studies? It was a worry for him. His deal with his parents was good grades as a trade for continuing theater. Briefly he considered even telling his mom that he had a date tonight. 
Roman paused in the doorway of the classroom as the realization hit him. He was going on a date. A date! He was going to be taking Virgil on a date. That Virgil initiated! Virgil, distant Virgil, handsome Virgil, with a mouth that tasted like the heat of a summer bonfire and lips that felt like plug outlets. 
Roman felt tears prick at his vision. Happy ones. Virgil had asked him on a date. Did this mean they were ready to move forward? No more nightmares?
No, he wouldn’t get his hopes up yet. He needed to go slowly. He had always planned from the beginning that his soulmate would be the one to reveal himself, or Roman would after he was done with his travels. When he was ready to settle down. Also, just because Virgil wanted to go on a date, it didn't mean they were ready to jump into the thick of it. Roman needed to be patient. 
Patience is a virtue, but I’m not a freaking nun or anything, Roman thought  as he walked down the hallway.
Roman walked into the room with a strange feeling of electricity dancing over his arms. He looked at the desk his English teacher usually sat in during the morning. Instead of Mr. Richardson, though, there was his favorite teacher and a man he had only seen twice before, but had never been introduced to. 
“Oh, Roman, you’re a bit early, aren’t you?” Mr. D asked. What was that look on his face? He was...smiling. He only did that when he was looking forward to something special. 
“Uh, yeah, I got decent sleep.” Roman was eyeing the two men. He couldn’t help but feel off-kilter as the sparks continued shooting up his arms. 
“Good, good.” The drama teacher patted Roman’s shoulder absently. “By the way, no rehearsal tonight. We all need a night to relax and regroup, right?” 
Roman nodded. He knew that the teacher was implying something, but he didn’t know what it was exactly until he spoke up. 
“Wow, Princey, you always look this good?” a gruff voice called from the back of the classroom. 
That explained the weird feeling in his arms. “Oh, hi, Virgil!” He ran his hand on the back of his head, which most likely would wake Linda from her slumber. “Sorry I didn’t see you there...in the shadows.” 
Virgil rolled his eyes as he walked forward. “Whatever, I’ll see you later.” 
Then he did something Roman didn’t expect. Virgil embraced him, not even minding the awkwardness of the backpacks they both wore, and then kissed his cheek. 
“See you at lunch, Roman.” Virgil winked at him before he left. 
Roman was frozen from the weird pain/not pain feeling in his abdomen. He jumped at the sound of Mr. D chuckling. 
“That’s the action I want to see from you when we get back to rehearsals. Pull on that feeling okay?” The theater teacher pat Roman on the shoulder again as he walked out. 
Roman stared at the superintendent, who was grinning like he had just won a goldfish- or a freaking puppy-at the fairgrounds. What was that all about? Virgil must be scheming something, and the superintendent looks like he’s expecting something from me. 
Roman did what he did best, he played it off cool before he died of stage fright. 
“How rude of him not to introduce me to you, I’m Roman. Roman King.” Roman stuck his hand out politely. He hid his relief that the buzzing had stopped vibrating on his skin. 
“Yes, of course, my nephew hasn’t always had the best manners.” The man shook Roman’s hand. “But that’s why you like him, isn’t it?” 
Roman let out one of his ‘Noble Noises’, a name that Joan gave to the sounds he couldn’t help but let out when he was at a loss for words. 
“Wh- I- ha-”
“Relax, Roman.” Thomas chuckled. “Mr. Richardson is going to be out for the week. Due to the lack of-” he clenched his jaw- “stability in this school, Principal Duke hasn’t set up any substitute teachers to be on our call list. I could have had other teachers work on their off periods to cover the class, but I have free time.” 
“Isn’t being a substitute a bit below your paygrade?” Roman asked without thinking. 
“I was a sub before I was anything else.” Thomas held his arm out to direct Roman to take his seat. 
 A group of students wandered in as the bell rang. Mr. Sanders smiled warmly at Roman. A bit too nice, as if he knew a big secret. 
Jeesh, was Roman getting too paranoid for his own good? Or was he getting his hopes up? 
Roman made his way to his desk, excited to see how the Superintendent of the entire district would teach. He knew that Mr. Sanders was taking the fall semester to exclusively monitor how Kingston High was improving, but he didn’t know that he’d be this involved. His reputation for caring about education seemed to hold more truth to it than Roman thought. Hopefully it meant that he'd leave the drama department alone. 
The second bell rang. Mr. Sanders walked up in front of the whiteboard to write down his name. Not that he needed to, he did just introduce himself to the entire school just a short time ago. 
Roman pulled out his English notebook. He was sure that Mr. Sanders would make them continue their assignments. Mr. Richardson had them working on learning about the various types of essay formats. The unit was difficult, especially since he wanted them to do three different essays in different formats as a way to show how well they understood. 
Mr. Sanders’ demeanor had changed now that he was in front of the classroom. Roman recognized that shift. It was the type of body stance that actors took right before getting into character. The tension in his stance to fend off the stage fright. 
“Hello class,” Mr.  Sanders greeted. He sounded like a car salesman rather than a substitute teacher. “Mr. Richardson will be out for a week. I will be your teacher while he is gone.” 
He turned on his heel to the whiteboard. He wrote out a phrase on the whiteboard: 
“Soulmate Magic: Myth or Fact?”
Roman felt himself about to choke on his own spit. He hated the Universe sometimes. He had just been wondering about that this morning. 
“Who here believes in Soulmate Magic?” Mr. Sanders asked the class while he drew out a chart of some sort on the whiteboard. 
Roman felt his arm lift up without his permission. He hurriedly looked around the rest of the classroom. There were a few students also looking around with their hands in the air too. One guy in the back of the class was chuckling to himself. 
“Mr. Flannigan, what’s so funny?” Mr. Sanders asked as he turned around. 
The boy shrugged, causing his bulky headphones to shift on his leather jacket. “This is English class in high school ,” he emphasized with a sneer. “You can’t expect us to believe that fairytale bullshit.” 
Roman and the others had put their arms down by then. If he had been asked this before meeting Virgil, he would have been on the fence. However, since the first day of school there were just too many coincidences and feelings and experiences he had noticed. After all, he did start believing the Dream Theory enough to go with Virgil to his house when they had barely known each other...and also kiss him that next morning. 
Mr. Sanders didn’t even acknowledge the cuss word from the bold student. He looked amused. “I take it the rest of you feel this way too?” 
The class all seemed to  shift uncomfortably. Gabrielle, the girl who sat behind Roman, spoke up first. “It’s not that I think it’s bull, it just feels like something we say to kids.” 
“Oh? Then do you know why Markings exist?” The Superintendent looked like he was holding information no one else had. Roman had a heavy feeling in his stomach at that look. His smirk was an older version of Virgil’s. 
Gabrielle frowned. “No one does. They’ve been around forever. They’re just...something that’s natural.” 
“Would you be willing to argue that point as passionately as Mr. Flannigan in the back?” Mr. Sanders asked. 
Gabrielle blushed and looked down at her desk as a few kids snickered. “Well, maybe, I don’t know.” 
Mr. Sanders went back to the whiteboard and labeled the columns he had drawn out. On the left he had written “Myth”. On the other side he had written “Fact”. Underneath “Fact” he started writing the names of some of the students who had their hands raised earlier. Roman felt sweat start to form on his forehead as his name was written in the “Fact” section. 
As he wrote, Mr. Sanders spoke. “Your teacher was doing a unit on the different types of essays in academia. I’m sure you’re all familiar with the traditional thesis statement. For the first half next week you’ll be spending class time working in groups on finding research online supporting your side of the argument. We’ll spend one day in the school library looking for books as sources too. Then the second half of the week you’ll each write your own essay about why you think Soulmate Magic is or isn’t real.” 
Roman sighed. Could he use personal experience as his only source? 
Mr. Sanders had finished writing their names on the board. He uncapped a pink marker. He looked behind him at the class and asked. “Who here has met their soulmate yet?” 
Roman gulped. He didn’t want to jump the gun. There was still a chance he was being set up for disappointment despite the other ‘signs’. Maybe this project would help him find the truth-or as close as he can get-about what the hell was going on with Virgil without actually talking about it. Obviously he'd need better sources than Buzzfeed's 'Six Signs You've Found Your Soulmate' article he had seen floating around. 
Mr. Sanders put a pink asterisk next to the names of the students who had found their soulmates. There were a few on each side of the chart. Roman felt a lump in his throat. There were more people who found their soulmates while young than he had thought. That didn't help with the whole "not getting his hopes up about his career" thing. 
They spent the rest of the class being assigned to their study groups. They were sorted into groups of four. Roman was assigned to work with Marissa Falcon, Andrew Harrison, and Mercy Fenton. They had changed their seating to make sure they were all sitting together. They had moved their desks to face each other close to the door. 
Marissa was definitely excited about this project. Her tight red curls bounced around her face even when she was still. She was one of the students with a pink asterisk next to her name on the board. The only one in their group, actually. Meaning that she had already found her soulmate. 
“So, putting aside the weirdness of the superintendent of the entire school district being here, can we just talk about how cool it is to learn about this?! Much better than what the old man was doing.” Her voice reminded Roman of bubblegum and the color pink. She was excitable, bright, and definitely had the glow of someone who considered herself an expert. 
Roman was just glad he wouldn’t have to take the lead on the project. Maybe working with someone his age who had already found their soulmate would help him out with his personal life as well as give him an edge on his essay. The other two in the group barely participated in the rest of the conversation. He got the feeling that Marissa and he were the ones who were going to take the assignment seriously. 
It was too soon that the bell rang for his next class. Disappointed, Roman packed his backpack. He waved goodbye to the substitute. Mr. Sanders gave him a smile in return as he pulled aside Gary Flannigan. Probably to talk to him about the cussing earlier in class.
Roman went to his next class. Thinking to himself, I hope this is a sign I’m on the right path with Virgil .
-------
“Jeez, Talyn, don’t tug my hair so hard!” Virgil griped. He was trying not to flinch as Talyn precariously combed the dye through his hair. 
“Well, do you want me to be thorough or no?” They responded tersely. They were trying - unsuccessfully - to hide their smile at Virgil’s pain and suffering.
“Remind me to never let you dye my hair in a bad mood, Talyn” Joan snarked as they read a book at Virgil’s desk. The Chrome Borne was the title that Virgil caught. 
It was weird, Virgil admitted to himself, to have his maybe-boyfriend’s best friend hanging out with him without Roman being there. Not bad, just weird. It made Virgil a little annoyed that he couldn’t have one on one time with Talyn as much anymore. Still, Joan was fun to have around. They were able to keep Talyn from smacking Virgil upside the head quite a few times. 
“Don’t make me flick some of this on your stupid face,” Talyn muttered so only Virgil could hear. 
“Why are you being so rough with my precious head? I don’t need a concussion on my first real date, Tal.” Virgil winced as Talyn purposefully tugged on his bangs. 
“You can’t get a concussion from hair pulling, smartass.” Talyn responded sweetly. “Besides, maybe next time you’ll give me more time to prepare to do this. I know I’m magic but I’m no miracle worker.” 
“Not my fault I’ve been busy!” he whined. “You don’t want me to fail classes do you?”
Talyn huffed as they clipped up the section they had finished. Their movements were more gentle now. “No. You need all the help you can get.” 
“What does hair dye have to do with failing classes?” Joan asked. They set down their book and spun in the desk chair to face Virgil. 
“Virgie has finally decided to take school seriously. So he’s gotta learn how to do homework for the first time.” Talyn was starting to trail off as they poured their focus where it should have been - making sure Virgil’s hair dye wasn’t fucked up. 
He rolled his eyes. “What they mean to say is that Mr. Charles has been helping me after school twice a week to get my homework done. I’m in a stupid deal for the first half of the semester to actually try to be a good student.” 
Joan’s eyebrows raised. “Never took you for a hard worker, no offense.” 
“None taken, neither did I.” Virgil grinned. “Hey, can I ask you something?” 
Joan made a show of rolling their eyes and groaning. “How dare you burden me with trying to find answers to the universe?” They put their wrist against their forehead and leaned over the side of the spinning chair. “It’s so hard being an oracle. Haven’t you heard of google?” 
Virgil and Talyn snickered. “I see where Princey gets his theatrics,” he remarked. 
Joan immediately shot up, leaning their elbows on their knees and looking at Virgil with mighty curiosity. “Why do you call him Princey? His name is King.” 
Virgil shrugged impulsively, causing Talyn to flick him for moving. “I dunno. It slipped out one day and kinda stuck.” There was more to it than that, but there was no way he was going to give that information to Roman’s right hand. 
“It’s just kinda funny to me,” Joan’s eyes looked lost in thought, “That you’d choose a nickname for him based off of his affirmations.” 
“Roman does affirmations?” Virgil asked, surprised. “Isn’t that for people who don’t like themselves or something?” 
Joan frowned at Virgil, and in a reprimanding tone said, “Not necessarily. Sometimes people do it to control how they view themselves. Sometimes it’s to remind them of their goals.” Joan sounded sad when they added softly, “Besides...Roman doesn’t exactly have a very high view of himself. He probably doesn't even know that I remember he made affirmations all those years ago."
Virgil snorted. “The guy’s got an ego the size of the Chrysler Building.” 
Talyn paused their work and shared a look with Joan. Joan shifted in the seat, looking down. Their voice a near whisper, “Not really. He’s just a good actor, ya know?” 
Oh. 
“I get it now,” Virgil looked down as Talyn pushed his head forward. “He did seem really...hollow...after something-” 
“I know what happened, Virge, you don’t need to go into it.” Joan didn’t sound like they had fake disinterest. They truly weren’t digging for information and wanted to respect Virgil’s privacy.  
Remembering that fuck-up was hard for Virgil. It was still so fresh in his mind. “No, it’s okay, I want you to know my side.” 
He didn’t wait for an acknowledgement. He told Joan about Roman meeting him on the bus, their walk home, the panic attack, the family dinner, Roman spending the night, the morning, the kiss, him running away, and the talk with Uncle Thomas. 
Joan helped fill in some blanks for him, too. He heard about how Roman had been so distraught when he visited their house right after. Joan mentioned something about a song, which led into the trio getting sidetracked into Joan’s history of creating with Roman. It was nice hearing stories about Theater Camp. Hearing about Roman’s softer side was way better than hearing constant praise from people who barely knew him. 
“So, what was your original question?” Talyn nudged while they put the shower cap on Virgil’s head. 
Virgil thought for a moment. What was the question he had? 
“Oh! Right! Hey Joan,” Virgil reached for his phone in the pocket from his jeans. “Could you tell me if Roman would like this surprise idea that I have?” 
Joan took the phone that they were handed. Their face slowly grew more mischievous and they were laughing a creepy, sinister laugh by the time they were done with it. “Yes, yes he will love this.” 
“Really?” Virgil asked as he stood up to stretch his legs. “I hope he’ll understand what I’m trying to say.” 
Joan bit their lip in thought. Talyn sat on their lap in the small rolling chair, which creaked under the weight of them. Virgil just sat on his bed while waiting for their response. 
“I think,” Joan started in a more serious tone, “that it’s a sweet idea. He’s always said that he didn’t want to know his soulmate before he was ready with an established career.
“But I don’t know, he’s changed a lot in the past two months. He may not be willing to commit to it no matter what you say. He’s been down pretty bad, Virge.” Joan started rubbing their finger up and down Talyn’s forearm while swaying back and forth. “I say, go for it. You’ve got most of it all planned out. I will say that if you go through with this, maybe prepare yourself for him to not be understanding of what you’re asking for. Because it is a lot.” 
Virgil nodded slowly. “I’ll see how the date goes tonight. I don’t really wanna jump the gun, you know?” 
Talyn got up to sit next to Virgil and rub his shoulder. “Your date is going to go fine. You already know he’s in love with you. You’ve just gotta clear the air on some things. This is a time for honesty.” 
“And really, this surprise you’ve planned out, Virgil?” Joan giggled. “I’m gonna do everything I can to make sure this happens.” 
“Yeah, watching you two dance around each other is better than any soap opera.” Talyn agreed. 
The trio talked for a bit more before the timer on Talyn’s phone went off for Virgil to rinse out his hair. He rushed to the shower so he could be ready on time for his date.
Virgil was in the shower rinsing his hair when it hit him. Roman would be going on a date with him. It wouldn’t be just a normal date, though, but a chance for Virgil to be vulnerable about everything. He needed to come clean about his side of what happened. Especially hearing about how Roman was so empty after that first kiss. 
The water was cold, which normally didn’t bother Virgil, but he found himself shivering at the thought of hurting Roman again. Was he ready to try? What if he was just doing this to make himself feel better? What if, when he explained himself, Roman thought he was toxic? What if Roman just couldn’t be with someone who won’t reveal their Marking? What if he fucked up again ? What if he can't open up after all? 
Once the water was running clear in the tub, Virgil stepped out to dry his hair off with his “Trash Towel”. It’s the towel he used when his hair was freshly dyed. He didn’t want to ruin a bunch of different ones with leaky hair. This was a white towel with stains of all the different hair colors he had done over time. He probably should have replaced it long ago, but that meant ruining another towel again.
The sound of the hair dryer wasn’t enough to drown out his thoughts. His fingers felt numb as he worked on his hair. Once that was done he returned to his room to get dressed. Talyn and Joan were downstairs. It sounded like his dad was home and talking to them. That was good. He needed some time to gather himself for what he was about to do. 
He didn’t want to look like he was trying too hard, but he didn’t want to look like he didn’t care either. He wondered if Roman would be dressed up all fancy for their first date. No doubt the boy was at his house fretting over what he’d wear. That image of Roman freaking out over what he’d be wearing comforted Virgil a bit. 
Virgil was glad that Mr. D had agreed to cancel the club meeting for that night. He was a weird teacher. He kept his distance but it was obvious he cared deeply about his students, especially Roman. The few times Virgil talked to the mysterious teacher, he always held a fond sparkle in his eye when Roman came up in conversation. It was really cool of him to give special treatment, and as Virgil changed he figured that Roman must be really special to his teacher. Which was good, considering that he needed Mr. D’s help with his surprise later on if his date went well.
After Virgil was mostly satisfied with his appearance, he went downstairs to see that it wasn’t just his dad who was home. 
Logan was sitting on his couch, with his arm over Patton’s shoulders. Patton leaned into Logan like he was relaxing after a long day. They were talking to Joan and Talyn. The four of them were laughing at something his dad must have said. Virgil felt his chest start to warm. It was such a natural sight, except for the empty loveseat in the corner. It was easy to see himself laughing along with them, with Roman’s head on his lap as they talked. 
Hope swelled within him. Could it be that he could make this work? Maybe he wasn’t going to fuck up after all. 
He walked into the room. His dad saw him and stood up to meet him. “You look so handsome, kiddo!" he squealed. The pride was so evident on his face. “My baby’s first date! So exciting.” 
Virgil pretended to frown. “C’moooon dad. Don’t embarrass me in front of my friends.” He tried to not laugh. 
Talyn stood up, playing along by stomping their feet. “Young man, I worked way too hard to make your hair perfect. The least you could do is let your dad take pictures of my masterpiece.” 
Virgil lost his composure by then. Talyn calling him ‘young man’ was just the cherry on top. “Sure, go ahead!” he called out through his hysterical laughter.
Logan spoke up, nervously grinning. “I have my camera in my car. It would produce a better quality for pictures than our phones.” 
“Need some help?” Joan asked excitedly. They didn’t wait for an answer as they made their way to the door. Logan just chuckled to himself as he left after the excited teenager. 
“Talyn, don’t tell me your soulmate is a photography nerd! You hate taking pictures of yourself.” Virgil teased. 
“Shut up,” Talyn grumbled, though their grin was noticeable. “Joan’s only got a passing interest in it. They haven’t asked me to be their muse or anything.” 
Patton chuckled. “Trust me, it’s not all it’s cracked up to be. Artists are very serious about their work.” 
“Dad, have you been modeling on the side?” Virgil asked. He wasn't teasing, but genuinely curious. That hadn't talked bunch about Logan or the galaxy tattoo since that fight. 
Logan had walked back in by then and made his way to Patton. “Your father has a very symmetrical face, and when he smiles I want to keep it with me forever.” He kissed Patton’s suddenly red cheek. 
Virgil noticed the way his dad stiffened as he waited for Virgil to react. It was weird to see another man lovingly touch his dad. He faked a reassuring smile to the pair. He didn’t want to think about the prickling in the back of his head. He needed to get used to Logan being around in a more casual manner. He'd have to get used to the fact that Logan was here to stay. 
He made sure to put all of his focus into watching Talyn and Joan from there on out. He tried not to blink when the camera flashed in his eyes. He fought within himself to keep that earlier hopeful feeling from flying away from him. He wouldn’t let his pessimism win. 
This night was about coming clean. It was about asking for forgiveness, giving context, and taking his next step to be a better man. It was about searching for compromise in good faith. It was for finding faith in the opportunity for fresh starts. After tonight, he’d be able to see a brighter future for himself. 
It was when they were still taking pictures that there was a knock at the front door. Talyn let out a squeal that seemed out of character. Virgil raised his eyebrow at them, which welcomed another click, flash! from the camera. He walked away from the staircase to open the door. 
His forearms felt like he was being pricked by static shocks all over when he saw Roman standing there, the beginning sunset behind him looking like something out of a movie. Virgil was speechless. He couldn’t think of anything flirty or sarcastic to say. Had it only been at lunch period that day he last saw Roman? He looked like royalty. 
Roman had his hair combed back. It was a bit longer since he hadn’t gotten it cut, so his hair had some flow to it. He had worn a long sleeve button up with black slacks. The shirt was a deep red color, bringing out the hazel eyes and white teeth. He was wearing a small bit of brown eyeliner and mascara, nothing obvious, but enough to bring out the features of his face. The rosey blush that Virgil loved so much was starting to form the longer he stared. 
“Um, I didn’t know where we were going, so I figured I’d make myself look nice.” Roman looked Virgil up and down. “I’m glad to know we had the same idea.” 
Virgil looked down at what he was wearing. He had chosen his only pair of slacks -a gray pair that his grandmother got him for his birthday - and a deep wine-purple button up. He had chosen a dark gray necktie with black stitching to look like spiderwebs. Just to keep a little bit of his dark personality obvious so he wouldn’t feel completely out of his depth. 
“Oh, right, yeah.” He responded lamely. His voice cracked and he felt like he wanted to shrivel up in embarrassment. 
“I got you this. I hope it’s not too cliché or tacky for you.” Roman handed Virgil a single black rose. It was plastic, and the stem was dark purple with glitter. It was definitely something cheesy, but Virgil smiled anyway.
“Thank you, Roman, I love it.” Virgil heard his dad clear his throat loudly. He rolled his eyes. Feeling more normal now that his bubble with Roman had burst, he swept his arm behind him. “Come in. We’re just taking pictures as if it’s fucking prom or something.” 
Roman laughed at that. “I’ll never say no to a photo op!” 
Joan and Talyn gave hugs to Roman when he was in the room. “Looking as royal as ever, your highness.” Joan remarked. 
"Wait, isn't Highness for a prince?" Virgil asked. "I always call him Majesty."
Roman chuckled. "Majesty and Highness can be either, depending on the situation. Majesty is more formal, and Highness is a sort of catch-all." 
Virgil didn't have a good response to that. He didn't know anything about royalty and all that fancy shit. He was itching to go, but automatically he pulled Roman by his waist. "Let's get our pictures done quickly, I'm starving."
Roman and Virgil took a few pictures at the bottom of the staircase. Roman didn’t seem bothered by the blinding flashes. Virgil kept his arm tight against his date’s waist. After he felt he was thoroughly blinded, he ended the photo session. “Alright, if I want to be able to see Roman’s sexy face I need the flashes to stop.” 
Roman whined behind him as he made his way to his jacket by the door. “But I wanna make sure all of my sides have been captured…” 
Virgil just ignored him. In a rush to leave, he gave hugs to everyone except Logan, and walked out the door while Roman gushed his thanks to Logan for taking pictures. 
The pair settled into their seats in Roman’s car. The silence was nice as Virgil adjusted to it after the noise of the living room. He looked at Roman nervously. He seemed relaxed. His handsomeness seemed never-ending. “Alright, Captain Cranky, you ready to go get some fancy food?” he quipped, too giddy for Virgil's own good. 
Virgil rolled his eyes and huffed. “Only the best for you, your Majesty .” 
Roman chuckled. They pulled out of the driveway as Virgil plugged in the aux cord to his phone as if he had done it every day. 
By the time they arrived at Marina's, Virgil had educated Roman with every song on the Welcome to the Black Parade album. They got out of the car laughing as Roman gave the keys to the valet. 
With a warm blanket of joy between the two, they entered the restaurant to start the first part of their date. Virgil tried not to think about the nerves bundling up in his abdomen, or even consider the coincidence that his Marking was warmer than usual. 
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AUTHOR’S NOTE: Fluff and worldbuilding? Fluff and worldbuilding.Thank you for reading and supporting this story. I didn't mean to drop off the face of the earth everywhere, but for about a year now a family member of mine was getting sicker and sicker until he passed a few weeks ago. It's been a hard time, but he's at peace now & I feel like I can refocus my life.So, we're looking at an update every other month here. I don't want to promise more or less than that. I can say that I think about this fic ALL THE TIME and I want to just publish my rough drafts of the chapters and speed through it, but I know these boys love to take their time, so I will too.I hope you have been doing well, readers, and let me know what you thought of this chapter! And maybe comment your guesses on how you think the date will go ;)also, I have a discord server join for updates, bonuses, and talk with other readers!
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@404-morality-not-found​, @k1ngtok1​, @lovelivingmydreams​
let me know if you wanna be on the taglist for my stories
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obxwritings · 4 years
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☆ Wouldn’t want it any other way ☆
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requested by @im-blossoming​: “Can you write an imagine where the reader confesses her love to JJ” I hope I lived up to what you wanted! Thank you so much for requesting! :) enjoy! 
summary: just another friends to lovers story because that’s my favorite trope! (fem!reader x JJ) based off of one of these! 
word count: 1,841
note: I did write this from 11 pm to about 1:30 am, so that’s something. Sorry if it’s so long! I guess I was just in a writing mood. oh also, italics mean flashback/ y/n’s thoughts so hopefully that’s clear! if not, sorry! 
masterlist of other works by me! 
If someone asked you to pinpoint the exact moment in time you began to have feelings for your best friend, you could give them the exact date and time. It was back in February of freshman year of high school. 
February 13th
You were sitting on your bed trying not to cry. Tonight was supposed to be a fun night with your friends at the high school’s annual valentine’s day dance. While all of your friends had found someone to go with at least two weeks before the dance (well, except JJ. He was protesting the dance claiming it was just another way the school was taking money from students as well as the school condoning teenagers getting “nasty,” but no one had asked you until a few days before. You were ecstatic. It had been Tyler from your English class. And while he simply asked you after class one day, you couldn’t wait. You had the perfect dress, and you couldn’t wait to show it off.  
And just as you finished your hair, you received a text from your date that was clearly meant for someone else: 
Tyler: Look, I already asked her. That was the bet we made. Do I get my money now or do I still have to take her to the dance too? 
Tyler: oh sorry wrong person. 
You were heartbroken, to say the least. You didn’t even like Tyler like that, but his text just confirmed your original thoughts: no one wanted to go with you. So there you were, sitting on your bed with your hair done perfectly while you were still in sweats and your half-done makeup. You don’t remember when it was, but your mom had come into the room and seeing your current state, tried to console you. The two of you had spent the rest of the night watching old movies and doing anything to get your mind off of the stupid boy in your English class. 
It wasn’t until the next day, the 14th, that you saw your friends again. You heard some loud noises from downstairs and went to investigate. Creeping down the stairs, you had stopped in your tracks when you saw your friends in their nicest attire hanging a few decorations around your living room. You almost weren’t going to say something until you saw JJ almost fall trying to hand a tiny plastic disco ball from your ceiling fan. 
“Hey guys, what’s going on?” you asked, startling the group. 
“There she is! We heard about what happened yesterday and wanted to make up for it.” John B smiled. “Go back upstairs and put on your dress! We’ll be done by then.”
True to their word, the pogues had finished decorating the living room when you returned. You were stunned. Upon your return, your mom came back with a disposable camera and insisted on taking pictures. After a few goofy pictures, JJ decided to get the music started and insisted on everyone on dancing. 
Following your mom into the kitchen, you went to thank her for organizing all of this. You found out, however, she was not the mastermind behind this: JJ was. 
“Oh sweetheart, as soon as he found out what your date did, he insisted on throwing a party of your own. Seems like he didn’t want his best friend to miss her special day.” she smiled at you and sent you back into the living room to join your friends. 
After a while, the others went into the kitchen to get some drinks and snacks, you pulled JJ aside and gave him the biggest hug. 
“Thanks for doing all of this JJ. It means a lot to me,” you gave the blond a smile. 
“Hey, it’s no big deal. I know you were looking forward to it and showing off that dress, which you look beautiful in by the way, so it just seemed like the right thing to do. Besides, this is a dance with a cause I can get behind! Your mom supplied us with everything and I don’t have to socialize with people from school that I don’t want to. I get to spend it with my best friend.” JJ led you to the kitchen and showed you a small vase of flowers, “I also got these for you. I figured if we were going to do this, I had to go the whole nine yards to get you to smile.”
It was at that moment that you had fallen for your best friend. You were completely screwed. 
And while that was just the beginning of your feelings for JJ, it worsened from there. In between exchanged smiles, sunset boat rides consisting of just the two of you, and slight touches such as a quick hug or hands brushing, your feelings for the blond had only grown. You were in deep and didn’t know how to stop it. There were so many nights where you had made up different situations on how to tell JJ your true feelings. However, all your made-up conversations of how you would confess your feelings to JJ all went to waste when JJ announced he had a date for the party on Friday night. 
You were bummed. Of course he didn’t feel the same way you thought to yourself. Your posture deflated and you had a clear frown on your face.  And while you didn’t mean to bring the mood of the group down, JJ could tell you weren’t feeling too good while the others argued over what to do later that night. 
Pulling you aside, JJ tried to get you to talk, but you didn’t feel like it. Not when the rest of your friend group was no more than ten feet away. You had hidden your feelings for JJ for more than a year; you could certainly hide them for a while longer. 
… 
As the clock neared midnight, you figured it was time to go home. Your mom was probably still up waiting for you to come home, making sure you got back safely. As soon as you excused yourself from the group and said your goodbyes, JJ got up to go with you. 
“JJ, you don’t have to walk me home. I am perfectly capable of walking.” 
“I can’t let you walk home alone at night, y/n,” JJ stated, “it’s too dangerous. I can’t let my best friend get hurt.”
Best friend, that’s all I’ll ever be you thought. 
“What did you say?” JJ’s question pulled you out of your thoughts. 
“Uh, what do you mean? I didn’t say anything.” 
JJ gave you a weird look, “yes you did. You said something about being best friends I think.”
Oh, so you had accidentally spoken your thoughts out loud, that’s great. 
“It was nothing, okay JJ?” you sighed and began to pick up your pace, now being more desperate to go home and escape your best friend. 
JJ was quick, however, catching up to you and grabbing your hand to stop you, “Y/N, something is clearly bothering you tonight. What is it?
And while JJ was talking, all you could think of was your best friend’s hand in yours. The thought made you want to smile, but you quickly remembered the predicament you were in. Shrugging you hand out of his, you looked at the ground thinking about how to avoid this talk with JJ. 
“Look JJ, I can’t tell you.”
“Why not?”
“I just can’t, okay?” clearly frustrated, you took a deep breath. “I’m just really nervous. I’ve rehearsed this in my head hundreds of times, but I don’t really know how to tell you now. I don’t want to ruin anything, and I’m a little scared the more I talk and think about it. I think I just need to go home, okay JJ?” you turned from your friend and began walking again. It wasn’t until you heard JJ’s voice that you turned around. 
“Well, why don’t I do the talking then?” 
Not knowing where this was going, you just kept your gaze on the ground. 
“Y/N, I-- wow you’re right this is kinda nerve-racking,” JJ let out a nervous chuckle, “but, if I think I know what you were going to say, I just wanted to say that I really like you too. I have since you made some random comeback at Pope on the boat one day this past summer. It was nothing out of the ordinary, but maybe with the sunset making you glow and your smile, I started to like you as just more than friends. I started to notice all the small things like how you would play with your hair when you got nervous around me, how you would always ask for my sweatshirts for when we had bonfires, or even how you blush whenever I gave you a nickname. It was all those little signs that told me that you liked me back. Or at least I think. Am I reading this right still? If I am wrong, please stop me. I’m getting too sappy for my liking and --” 
You cut JJ off by rushing over to him and wrapping your arms around his neck, bringing him closer to you. You closed your eyes and closed the gap between you two with a kiss. After realizing what was happening, JJ closed his eyes too and wrapped his arms around you, embracing you in a hug and pulling you closer (if that was even possible). 
And while you didn’t want to break away, you did need to breathe. Your little high didn’t last too long though. You replayed JJ’s words in your head and moved back slightly. 
“Wait, you knew? All this time you watched me get nervous and flustered and embarrass myself in front of you and you knew? Do you know how many times I laid in bed regretting every embarrassing thing I had said? It was a lot by the way.” you huffed, looking slightly annoyed.
JJ laughed and shook his head, “Well I kind of knew. You were acting like how people normally do around those they like, but you’re my best friend; I didn’t want to risk messing that up if I was reading all your actions wrong.”
“Well,” you started, “you certainly were reading it right. I really like you too, in case you didn’t know.” 
“I think the kiss was a giveaway.”
“Oh be quiet, Maybank.” you laughed as you untangled yourself from the blond. “So, does this mean you still have that date for Friday?”
“Oh that? That was just to see your reaction to confirm my theory about your feelings for me. But, I would rather much have you as my real date for Friday instead of a fake one. What do you say?” JJ held out his hand for you and motioned to start walking back to your house. It was a little past midnight anyway. 
You accepted his hand with a smile,  “Of course. Wouldn’t want it any other way.” 
note: if you made it this far, thanks for reading! let me know how it was :) as always, requests are open! ☆
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amphipodgirl · 3 years
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First Lines Meme
Thank you to @palimpsessed and @aristocratic-otter for tagging me! (Also thanks to anyone I’ve forgotten because, wow, my brain is a sieve these days.) Rules are simple: post the first lines of your 20 latest fics (or all your fics if you have fewer than 20).
I’ll start with my non-smut fics, published under my Ampithoe account.
What’s Next? (597 words, T) [Simon] “We have a flat now. It's not a fancy flat, and it's up four flights of stairs, but it's ours, mine and Penny's. I've got a room all to myself – that's a thing I've never had.”
The Courtship of Princess Agatha (1069 words, T) “Once upon a time there was a beautiful princess named Agatha, who was lady of the fair land of Watford, and it was time for her to choose a partner to rule the land with her.”
Breathe (536 words, G) [Shep] “Penny is pacing. And pacing. And pacing. It is amazing to me how intensely, how fiercely, she can pace in the narrow strip of space between the row of chairs and the wall in the boarding area.”
Hold Me (585 words, T). [Simon] “It's a Thursday morning after the end of term and I'm trying to get through to the cable company to put our service on hold – Penny is going to go visit Agatha, who is going to try not to be kidnapped by vampires this time, and I'm going to spend a month with Baz and his family at the estate in Scotland, so we don't see why we should pay for shows we're not going to use.”
Mark Steel’s in Watford (765 words, G) “Young male voice, Northern accent: The best thing about Watford? It's definitely the sour cherry scones.”  
Parent-Teacher Association (20314 words, 6 chapters, T) [Baz] “Why did I ever think that becoming a middle-school English teacher was a good idea?”
Soul Bands (10775 words, 4 chapters, T) [Simon] “After the taxi lets me off at Watford I rush up to my room, dump my duffel in the wardrobe, and change into my uniform. Like always, it's clean and new and fits me perfectly.”
Nachala (739 words, G) [Baz] “I can never sleep on my mother's nachala, the anniversary of her death.”
Mi Chamocha (Who is Like You) (31,777 words, 17 chapters, T) [Baz] “My father takes me to a work site. The Hebrew slaves are making mud bricks — treading straw into the mud, hauling the mixture, filling molds and laying them to dry, removing dried bricks from molds and stacking them.”
Coffee (2141 words, G) [Baz] “What a day. I have a paper to write, and I'd normally hole up in the flat until I finished it. But for some reason Fiona has chosen now — when it's too wet and cold to open the windows to let fumes out, and I'm at my busiest — to have the place painted.”
Bonfire Night (15383 words, M) [Agatha] “I'm walking towards the Weeping Tower with Penny when Simon comes up to me and says, ‘Agatha, we need to talk!’ Which he's been doing multiple times per day since I broke up with him two weeks ago.”
And now, the smut!!! I publish these under my Gammarus account.
A People Pet (2452 words, E) [Simon] “I loved what we did last Saturday night. It completed something, and it blew my mind all the way.”  
Engulfed (2828 words, E) [Simon] “ He's kissing me and I'm kissing him and our hands are everywhere and he smells so good and Merlin and Morgana and hair and Baz and it's amazing. And he's nibbling on my neck and nuzzling my ear and moaning and then the moaning is words and he says “I want your prick in my arse.”
I’ll Melt With You (2893 words, M) [Baz] “I'm sitting at the dining table studying when Simon bangs into the flat. He slams the door hard and stalks over to the counter, throwing down his rucksack and crashing his hand down onto the bell to let his wings out. They snap out to the sides like banners.”
Pervocracy (6373 words, E) [Baz] “I can't believe I'm getting dressed to go to something called Pervocracy.”
Serves Me Right (10270 words, E) (Not Carry On) [Grace] “I first saw Ilya at Pervocracy. He’s an absolutely gorgeous piece of man-candy, for starters.”
I tag @carryonsimoncarryonbaz @flammable-grimm-pitch @im-gettingby @arca9 @banjjakbanjjak @scone-lover @krisrix @thehoneyedhufflepuff @pipsqueakparker @gampyre and anyone else who would like to play!
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guylty · 4 years
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My annual social media Lent is coming up. From Ash Wednesday I will abstain from Twitter for the next 6 and a half weeks (until Easter Sunday), allowing me to recalibrate a little and concentrate on other things. Such as my blog – or RAnet. That means I need blog fodder. Almost four weeks have passed since The Stranger launched on Netflix. Enough time to assume that most fans and readers have watched the show and will not be spoiled by the discussion of the show. Moreover, some more in-depth discussions have already started in the comments. Last weekend, for instance, we got into the intracacies of the “bar scene” in episode 4 of TS, talking about the casting, costuming and directing of that particular scene and how we, as women of a particular age reacted to that scene.
However, it would probably make more sense to start at the beginning. So anyone who’d like to discuss TS with me, you are welcome to write your observations, reactions and opinions in the comments. I know I am kind of launching into this without announcement. But by doing this episode by episode, I hope you can follow along and catch up with individual episode if need be. I’ll also try and summarise every episode at the beginning of each review post so we know what we are talking about. Hm, I may need to rewatch the show for that. The hardship!!! However, the discussion will probably focus on the plot… eh… Adam. Anyhow, I hope you’ll join me and share your thoughts either here – or your own blog, if you are blogging, too.
The Stranger – Episode 1 Recap
Prior to the trailer, TS starts with teenagers at a bonfire party, culminating in a naked boy escaping through the dark forest. The plot then begins with the Price boys driving in the car to the football club where younger son Ryan is trying out for the A team. While at the club, daddy Adam briefly speaks with his wife Corinne on the phone. She is away at a teachers’ conference while Adam looks after their sons. In the clubhouse, Adam is approached by “a stranger” who reveals a devastating secret to him: His wife faked her pregnancy a couple of years ago. He is shocked and disturbed.
Once back home after football training, Adam can’t resist checking the details the stranger passed on to him, and sure enough, his suspicions are confirmed – there is a credit card payment for a fishy website called Novelty Funsy, and the ultrasound scan of the miscarried baby does not quite match the ones of his two sons. Meanwhile, Adam’s elder son Thomas heads out to the bonfire party with his friends.
The next morning, police woman Johanna investigates a bizarre crime scene of a decapitated alpaca in the city centre. With her DS, she drives to a nearby alpaca farm to confirm where the animal came from. On their return trip their attention is attracted by some pieces of clothing in the forest. They follow the trail of clothes and find a naked body. The young man is still alive.
Adam meanwhile looks after his day job – he is the legal advisor to an obstinate tenant who refuses to move out of a house that has been earmarked for demolition. Upon his return, Corinne arrives back from her conference and Adam receives confirmation that the mysterious credit card payments are for a website that provides fake pregnancy products. He immediately confronts Corinne. She does neither deny nor explain why or what she did, only hinting that there is more to it than he thinks. The Prices spend the night in separate bedrooms.
The next morning Adam observes Corinne taking a phone call outside the house. She later suggests to Adam that they talk later that day after a school awards ceremony where she will explain all. However, Corinne never shows to the event. Adam receives a text message asking for some time apart.
The episode ends with Thomas revealing the decapitated alpaca head in his cupboard.
  Episode 1 – Discuss
So, first of all – I have watched the first episode about three and a half times. Twice on my own, once with hubster, and finally today a quick run-through for the sake of the recap where I fast forwarded through a lot of scenes, focussing on Adam mostly. I couldn’t help it… My first response to the show at the very first viewing was – WOW! I remember that I was fully engaged during every minute of it – even the scenes and story lines that Richard did not feature in. Granted, I was most interested  with the “grown-up” arcs, not least because anything involving drugs and other goings-on with teenagers makes *this* mama really worried. But having said that, I think the first episode was very effective in establishing the storylines and the characters. Hence the show spends most time following Adam (Richard Armitage) – as a father, as a lawyer and as a husband. Then there are the two police officers who also are presented as round characters – the middle-aged senior officer Johanna (Siobhan Finneran) approaching retirement who has just decided to split from her husband, and her much younger partner, a gay black man. Adam’s son Thomas also gets a good bit of screen time with his friends, making him more than just secondary. Other secondary characters include first and foremost Dervla Kirwan as Corinne, Stephen Rea as obstinate tenant Martin, and Jennifer Saunders as Johanna’s BFF Heidi.
So, the first watch was highly exciting and addictive, so much so that I basically binged the whole show. On second and subsequent views, I found the episode not quite as fast and exciting anymore – only natural, as a lot of time was actually spent setting up the characters and the various story lines: Johanna waking up in bed to her snoring husband; Johanna meeting Heidi in her café; observing the teenagers at their bonfire party; visiting Dante in hospital…
RA is the natural focal point from the get-go. Not only for fangirls, I might add. The show is really good at setting him up as the perfect family man who obviously has great rapport with his sons, both the “difficult” almost grown-up older son, but also the younger lad who needs a different kind of care than a young adult. I found the casting really great, with Thomas definitely matching the tall, dark, handsome vibes of TV-dad Richard, and younger boy Ryan more a mirror of his blond, curly-haired TV-mum. They all have great chemistry together, and found Misha Handley (Ryan) very natural and convincing. Jacob Dudman as Thomas was also great.
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… really aged well… hehe
RA really shines in the confrontation scenes, both with the stranger and with his wife, when he has to convey both suppressed anger and outright fury at having been deceived. Both his major scenes with Corinne are very convincing, and I appreciated the decision to make Adam extremely angry, on the verge of volatile, when Corinne refuses to explain her actions. Adam’s anger is immediate, raw and confused and Armitage really draws the viewer on his side with his emotional outburst. So much so that I basically missed Dervla Kirwan’s nuanced acting in that scene. On second and subsequent viewings, once you know how the show ends and why she doesn’t want to talk immediately, you start to notice the little things: her refusal to talk has more to do with fear than with anger or denial. She is afraid of actually addressing the fact that the reason for her faked pregnancy will also bring another secret out in the open, and the subsequent discussion (which she had successfully avoided by faking the pregnancy in the first place) will now have to take place. What might have looked as callous or dismissive at first viewing, conveys much more detail the second time round: there is a sadness to Corinne that Kirwan expresses very subtly – in a slight pause, or the tiniest glance into the mid-distance. The same applies to their second and much calmer confrontation the next morning. What might have looked almost callous on first viewing, gains much more weight when you watch it with prior knowledge of the plot. When Adam says he has lost trust in her, Corinne replies “it hurts, doesn’t it?“. The question tag really stood out to me on first viewing. It confused me. Why is she phrasing it like that? It of course became clear in episode 4, but again, Kirwan really gave it a spin by loading it with subtle sadness that doesn’t only confuse the viewer but also Adam. Armitage here kept his response at just the right level of confusion without giving away how much Adam really recognises or understands what she was hinting at. RA reacts with great detail expressions. No words are needed. And in hindsight you can see how he begins to wonder whether she knows about his affair. Loved it.
Let’s talk a bit about Armitage’s look in this show. Such a spectacle!
Yes, I like details like that. The jury is still out on whether this is a prescription that Armitage wrote into the script himself 😂, or whether we just had a costume department that is on the ball. Yes, it’s time for the presbyopic lenses. Happens to most of us at around middle age. 🤓 I found it a lovely detail that makes Adam more relatable. Because – a dad bod he has not.
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Even if he claims he does. I find this a rather attractive package for a middle aged family man. Also:
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Bonus WRP. Needs no further elaboration
But to get back to the look and style – I enjoyed the casual style of Adam. Once again, it felt right – nothing too fancy, with windbreaker, jeans and shirts, and even a tracksuit at home, the perfect attire for a father of two (pre-) teen sons. I was surprised how good RA looked in other colours than just black and blue. The red polo shirt was very nice on him.
I can’t say I am as convinced of the costumes provided for Corinne. In fact, I think there were some rather sledge-hammer style decisions going on there, putting the wife and mother into rather dowdy, pale pink mom trousers and giving her a hole-pattern, fluffy knit jumper. Then there was that turquoise dress that went slightly longer than her knees – apparently the work wear for female teachers in English private schools, judging by an equally frumpy outfit for Corinne’s colleague and friend Vicky? (This observation I will come back to in a later post once we get to episode 4.) It just kind of made me think that Corinne was made to look older and less casual than her husband who even attends to his client in jeans and shirt…
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Police officer Johanna Griffin OTOH looked *real* and great. (I kept double-taking because O’Brien’s severe look kept coming back to me.) And I loved Heidi’s funky style – very much the slightly crazy café-owner with a café as stylish as herself… And can we also mention the Price’s residence here? There were only quick first glimpses of their house – but oh, that stylist made it a gorgeous family home. The garden was beautiful but I can take it or leave it. Too much work – I don’t like to get my fingers dirty. But the dining area with the floor-to-ceiling windows and the sleek white kitchen? Big win, especially because it doesn’t look like a showroom but has photos on the fridge and a mess on the counters.
So episode 1 gets a big thumbs up from me – for introducing us to almost all the characters (some held back for more surprise later on) and establishing the plot. Yes, there is a lot going on here, which I haven’t even all mentioned in the recap: the stranger dropping her first bomb, the Price family life, the secret in Corinne’s past, the tenant who refuses to move out of his home, the colleague who has trouble with her pre-teen daughter, the teenagers who are partying under the influence of drugs, the mystery of the boy who was hunted through the forest, the curious story of the decapitated alpaca, an almost-comic police duo, a police officer who is splitting up with her hubby, her friend, the funky café owner, the gregarious neighbour, the busybody football trainer… Too much? I’d say a lot of it is deliberate overload to distract us, yet give us some extra info about the characters, their work, their life and their environment.
The strategy definitely works when you watch the show for the first time. You are busy dealing with Richard Armitage’s overwhelming handsomeness taking it all in. The questions only really pop up when you watch again.  Such as: When stoned Mike takes the alpaca for a walk into the city centre, why is there no CCTV footage? I mean, nowadays there is hardly *any* urban area that does *not* have CCTV on shops and banks or traffic spots. How come no one saw him decapitating the alpaca, in a city centre? And how did he manage to decapitate it anyway`- it’s hardly a one-chop job?Likewise and with hindsight we know now that Corinne’s text message was not sent by her at all: But how did the sender actually know the password to Corinne’s phone to send that message? I mean, don’t all people lock their phone with a password these days? Possibly nit-picking questions, but that’s the fun of it, isn’t it? You can enjoy a show immensely – and still want to pick a few holes into the plot just to see whether you are cleverer than the writer 😉.
There is probably so much more to discuss, but for the sake of getting the discussion started, here is the post. What is your take on the first episode of TS? Any agreements with me, or disagree? Other points of interest? Let me know in the comments!
Let’s Talk About… #TheStranger – Episode 1 My annual social media Lent is coming up. From Ash Wednesday I will abstain from Twitter for the next 6 and a half weeks (until Easter Sunday), allowing me to recalibrate a little and concentrate on other things.
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cheneyq · 4 years
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Fat Girl Worries Part 3
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Pairing : Original Character x Harry Styles
CHAPTER THREE
Part 1, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine,Part Ten
————————————————————
WARNING!!!!!!!!
THIS STORY DOES CONTAIN SEX, VIOLENCE, SELF HARM AND BAD LANGUAGE.
TRIGGER WARNINGS!!!!
AND I AM NOT A PROFESSIONAL WRITER.
MY FIRST LANGUAGE ISN’T ENGLISH SO SORRY FOR ANY GRAMMAR, SPELLING ERRORS.
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Harry's P.O.V
I was fuming as I moved up the stairs and banged on her door. I heard her bed squeak and the she cursed, opening the door.
"What is your problem?" I asked and pushed past her into the room. "Why do you have to be such a bitch!" I added, "My friends went on and on about the fat girl almost beating me up!" I was so mad that I turned around and kicked her bed. "Hey! My bed didn't do anything to you!" She yelled back, of course she was defending her bed. "My god! Why do you have to be so childish!" I got right up in her face, she's gorgeous. "Why did you make fun of Louis for being gay if your mom is gay!" She shot back. "Shut up! Just shut up!" She was pissing me off even more, if she was a guy I would've punched her. "If you ever say that to anyone or mention that we know each other I will ruin your live." I growled at her. She blinked a few times.
I was taken aback by the fact that she didn't say anything to defend herself. My face was inches from hers and her eyes were the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen, my hands were clenched by my sides and my breathing increased. "So shut your fat cunt mouth and just fuck off." She stepped back and blinked, a tear rolled down her cheek, she turned her face away from me so I couldn't see it. But I did. I instantly felt bad and I wanted to apologize more than anything else, but it was better if she hated me.
I stormed out of her room and into mine, I heard her close the door softly. "Fuck." I whispered as I fell down onto my bed. Why was I such a dick to her when I obviously fancied her. I threw my pillow on the floor and sighed, rubbing my eyes with the palm of my hands. It's only been two weeks and I already have a huge crush on her, but obviously I can't have a crush on her because of the situation we're in, what if our mom's marry?
I cringed at the idea, not that I'm against gay marriage, it's just all of my friends are and I don't think I can stand the humiliation if they had to find out.
"She was pretty hot." Zayn said and punched my shoulder, "For a fat chick." Zayn's words played over in my head and I remember the urge to punch him. She's not even FAT, sure she wasn't your average size girl, but she's not obese or something.
"So shut your fat cunt mouth and just fuck off." I grunted and grabbed my hair, screwing my eyes shut. Why did I say that to her? So she would hate me rather than try to be friends with me? Because I don't think I would be able to be just friends with her, or be her brother or whatever. I mean I should be happy right, being with a girl like Cindy? She's beautiful, we're popular, the IT couple at school, everyone wants to be us. But here I am, wanting to be with Skylar.
My phone buzzed and I sighed, taking it out of my pocket I saw it was Morgan calling. "What?" I answered. "Oh, hi sunshine. We were just wondering if you wanted to get high tonight?" I could hear a lot of people in the background, "Come on dick!" Jason yelled. I rolled my eyes and agreed. Throwing my phone onto my bed I pulled my shirt over my head, searching on my floor for something that doesn't stink. I grabbed the first shirt I could find and pulled it on, heading to the front door.
"And where are you going?" I turned around to see my mom and Lena sitting in the kitchen, drinking coffee. "Out to a bonfire with Cindy." I replied dryly. "Take Sky with you, won't you?" Lena asked and my eyes widened. "Not a fuck." My mom slammed her coffee mug on the table, "Harry! Language!" I rolled my eyes and mumbled an apology. "Maybe you should just stay at home!" Mom raised her voice. "I don't want to take her with me!" I raised my voice back. "Then you are not going!" She started to stand up but Lena pulled her arm, "Anne, honey..." She said softly. I heard footsteps coming down the stairs. There she was, she didn't look at me at all.
"See, she's not even dressed!" I exaggerated and motioned to her with both my hands. My mom turned and looked at Skylar, "Honey, would you like to go to a bonfire tonight?" Sky's eyes lit up. "Oh wow, imagine the beautiful pictures I could take-" I cut her off. "No, she can't come." Finally she looked at me, the light in her eyes dimming as she stared. My mom stared at me, her eyes darkening, oh shit, here it comes.
----
I can't believe my mom talked me into bringing her. I sat on the couch irritated as I waited with my arms folded across my chest. Finally I could hear her come downstairs. She looked great actually, but I looked away before she could see me staring. "Have fun!" My mom yelled after us. "Fuck off." I mumbled back. I heard Sky try to hide the fact that she was laughing. I stole a glance towards her, when she saw me looking her face straightened.
I unlocked the car and got in, it was a 1970 dodge charger. Skylar was staring at my car for a few seconds before she got in. "My God I love your car." She beamed and started a rant on how she fell in love with her first classic car. "This is a 1970 model, right?" She shocked me, so I just nodded. She probably realised she was ranting because she apologised and stayed quiet for the rest of the way.
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deepinifhell · 5 years
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Future Queens- Once Upon A Time
Summary: Princess Lia finds more than she bargained for during her bachelorette party in a beautiful waitress named Riley Singh. She is expected to find a future husband during this upcoming social season. Thankfully, her friends aren’t afraid of bending the rules to offer her the love of a lifetime.
Also on AO3 | Prologue |  Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3
Pairing: Lia(F!Liam) x MC
Series Rating: T
Word Count: 3,614
Warnings: series warning for homophobia
Disclaimer: This is a TRR rewrite of Liam’s “route”, but with a F/F pairing. I’ve added more description, filled holes, and made a few adjustments but I just want to be clear that a lot of this text is from the book itself and I’m not claiming to have written it.
Note: Happy first full-chapter release!
New York, Once Upon A Time
“Just another glamorous New York Saturday night of hauling trash to the dumpster…” Riley laments, heaving a heavy bag over her shoulder. It lands with a slick, crinkling plop.
“It could be worse. There could be—” Daniel’s voice jumps an entire octave – “rats! Riley, help!”
“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of this adorable little mouse family. They’re trying to get by, just like us.” Daniel is Riley’s friend and co-worker. They both work closing shift at a small local dive bar. Riley never needs the help, but Daniel usually tags along on trash duty to avoid the ever-present wrath of their manager. Speak of the devil—the back-door swings open, and their scowling manager pokes his head out the door.
“Hey! Riley, Daniel, quit slacking off over there!” He barks.
“You told us to take out the garbage,” Riley says.
“And now I’m telling you to wait on the bachelorette party that just rolled in. Chop chop!” The manager snaps his fingers twice.  
The previously quiet restaurant is much louder now that the aforementioned bachelorette party is here. Wait. Riley swears her manager said bachelorette party. At the front of the restaurant though, there are three men, and none of them look like they are meant to be at the same place.
“Waitress, there you are. We need your best table!” A crisply dressed man in a suit calls out.
“Forget the table. Just bring us whiskey, and lots of it,” says the only man who looks like he might actually belong here.
Daniel looks to Riley, pleading with his best puppy-dog eyes. “Riley, please take this one. I’ve got a date tonight, and I’ll never make it out of here in time…”
“You really want me to take the them?” Riley asks, thinking it over for a moment. They look like a handful but—“I’m on it. The tip will be insane! I’ll have those guys eating out of my hand in no time.” Daniel’s eyes light up.
“You’re the best!”
“Are you two still talking? I’ve seated them already. Now get over there before I dock your pay!” The manager shouts. Riley heads over to the table where the three men sit, talking. Daniel makes the smart choice to dart into the backroom before their manager finds some other task to take up too much of his time.
“Hello, gentlemen. I’ll be taking care of you this evening,” Riley says. She glues on her most charming and helpful smile.
“Waitress, steaks for the table,” declares the third man. His black polo and slacks are still too nice for a place whose menus aren’t even laminated, though his outfit is blazer-free.
“How about some filet mignon, medium rare and prepared with a bearnaise sauce?” The man in the suit phrases it as a question, but his tone of voice doesn’t match.
“The closest thing we have to filet mignon is the deluxe burger.” Maybe one of them would notice, if they took the time to look at the single-page menu in front of them.
“Dare I ask for your wine list?” The suited gentleman frowns.
“We’ve got an excellent house red,” Riley offers.
“House red?” He sounds deeply offended. Unfortunately, it’s still not enough to rank him in her Top 10 Worst Customers.
“It also comes in white,” Riley says. Seeing the situation starting to get out of hand, the lone casually dressed member of the group takes over the situation.
“We’ll be fine with a bottle of whiskey…and four deluxe burgers.”
“Four?” Riley asks. The man nods behind her, and Riley turns to see a young woman enter the restaurant. She looks just as out-of-place as the rest of her group, but the only thought Riley has time for is she’s really cute!
“Sorry I’m late. Thank you for your patience, Miss…?”
“Uh, Riley.”
“Charmed to make your acquaintance, Riley.” She introduces the group afterward, presenting their names before her own: Tariq, Drake, and Maxwell. The woman’s name is Lia, and Riley knows she won’t be forgetting it anytime soon. She nearly fumbles her words trying to answer back.
“Trust me…the pleasure’s all mine.” Focus, Riley! “It’s nice to meet you. Now let me go put your order in. Be right back!”
---
Later that evening, a little after the bar has closed, Riley is finishing up when someone taps her on the shoulder. It’s Lia, just as polite as when she first walked in. “I think we’re about ready to head out. I just wanted to thank you…and apologize. I know we kept you late, and my friends can be…demanding.”
“Demanding? Nothing I couldn’t handle,” Riley assures her. Lia smiles particularly brightly, like this is more relaxed than she is used to being.  
“I got the feeling that you could take care of yourself. If you don’t have any other plans tonight, maybe I can make it up to you by buying you a drink. We’re about to go to a club.”
“Oh? Which one?”
“We were hoping you might have some advice about that. We’re not from around here.” That would explain their voices, fluent in English but with an accent Riley can’t quite place.
“I recommend going…” she could recommend the hottest club in town, but the group didn’t seem like the partying type, especially not Lia, “to a gorgeous secret cove by the beach. Forget the club.”
“You know…that actually sounds perfect. To be honest, I’m getting a little tired of the usual bachelorette party antics. Lead the way!”
“Sure! Let me finish up here, and I’ll meet you out front.” Riley rushes to get through her work and heads back to change. I am so ready to get out of this uniform, she thinks, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror.
It’s not often she has cute clothes to change into after work, but it’s warm enough that a casual summer dress is more comfortable than her usual after-work clothes this time of year. When Riley steps outside, the rest of the group is waiting for her, open shock on all of their faces.
“Wow,” Drake says.
“Wow?” Riley asks.
“I…almost didn’t recognize you,” he clarifies.
“That uniform wasn’t doing you justice,” Tariq says.
“Yeah, the waitress is hot,” comes Maxwell’s charming contribution. Lia clears her throat, loudly.
“Her name is Riley, and I doubt she appreciates you talking about her like that.”
“Right. Sorry, Riley.” Maxwell scrambles to apologize. “I meant to say, you look lovely. Now let’s get this party going!”
“So she’s our tour guide now?” Drake asks.
“Riley was kind enough to agree to show us around. She’s doing us a favor, so play nice,” Lia says. Riley gathers that this is their usual dynamic, given how unfazed Lia seems about having to scold both Maxwell and Drake.
---
A short time later, Riley and the group pile out of the limo at the beach, and the guys head off towards the ocean.
“We should build a bonfire,” Drake suggests. This is the first time Riley has seen him smile since he asked for that bottle of whiskey earlier.
“I’m not doing manual labor,” Tariq says.
“Sorry, I forgot who I was talking to. What I meant was, I’ll go build a bonfire.”
“This place is awesome! Skinny dipping!” Maxwell makes a point of drawing out the last sentence. Tariq is the first one to interject this time.
“Keep your pants on, Maxwell.”
“Thank you for bringing us here. I can tell the guys are enjoying themselves already,” Lia says, in a polite, indoor voice.  
“I bet you’re used to putting everyone else first,” Riley says.
“And why would you say that?”
“I can tell. I’m good at reading people. Now, forget about your friends. What about you? Do you like it here?”
“I love it.”
“It’s my secret spot, so I’m really trusting you.”
“I’ll do my best to be worthy of that trust,” Lia answers diplomatically, but Riley can tell she means every word. “Though there’s just one problem…How am I supposed to buy you that drink?”
“You’ll think of something.” Riley smirks. “Or maybe you’ll just keep owing me.”
“Fair enough. So what should we do?”
“We should…” Riley looks around the cove to remind herself of the best options, “climb up the cliff!” Lia looks startled that Riley would even think to suggest it, but not unwilling.
“Way up there?” She asks, stalling. Riley isn’t about to let her do that. She takes off for the rock face.
“Try to keep up!” Finding handholds and places for her feet, Riley quickly scales the cliff face. When she finally reaches the top, she grins, panting to catch her breath. “…Did it.” She extends a hand down and helps Lia up.
“Thanks.”
“What do you think?” Riley asks.
“Huh?” Lia may still be…just a little out of breath.
“The view. Worth the climb, right?”
“Oh, definitely.”  For a moment, they both look out, watching the moonlight play on the waves below as the wind moves through the clouds. Then Riley shivers.
“Cold?” Lia’s face twists with concern.
“Maybe just a little…” Lia peers back down the cliff face.
“I see that the guys got the bonfire going. Let’s head back down and warm up.”
---
Back at the bonfire, Lia’s friends play by the water nearby while the two of them sit together by the fire, appreciating the crackling flames as they warm their hands.
“Tonight’s been quite the adventure…” Lia trails off for a moment, searching for the words. “I never thought my night out on the town would end up like this. You’re really something else, aren’t you?”
“I’m going to take that as a compliment.” Riley beams at her.
“Believe me, it is. Spending time with you tonight has been the most fun I’ve had this entire vacation.”
“I guess that means you haven’t really been enjoying yourself very much.”
“It’s been wonderful, but there’s something missing. I really wanted to do one thing in particular while I was here…”
“And what’s that?”
“It’s…well…you’re probably going to think it’s silly, but I’ve always wanted to see the Statue of Liberty. It wasn’t really in the guys’ plan, so we just never got around to it. And now it’s my last day here…” Lia pauses, reeling in the emotion in her voice. “I don’t mean to sound so ungrateful. It was thoughtful of my friends to throw me this bachelorette party. They’ve done their best, but I’m not in the mood to celebrate.”
“Wait a second, it’s really YOUR bachelorette party?” At this point, Riley had written it off as a joke, or maybe a bad ploy to get free drinks—hah, her manager is far too cheap for that. “You’re pretty flirty for an engaged woman. I don’t think your fiancée would be too happy about that.” Riley knows that’s a bold thing to say, maybe even an act of flirting in itself, but she finds herself doing it anyway.
“That’s the funny thing. I actually don’t know who I’m going to marry yet…only that I’ll have to pick my fiancé by the end of the year.” Strange how, in spoken English, fiancé and fiancée become the same word.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Riley’s eyes go wide.
“The truth is, Riley…I’m the Crown Princess of Cordonia.”
“You’re a princess?” Riley asks. Lia already looks disappointed, and Riley can’t help but try to soothe the frown from her face. She leans closer but doesn’t dare to touch. “This doesn’t change anything. I don’t care what your title is. You’re still the same woman I met earlier this evening…caring, thoughtful…” Lia really is amazing. How do I tell her that? “I’ve seen a lot of customers come and go, but I’ve never seen any woman at their bachelorette party be concerned about whether the waitress was having a good night.”
Lia smiles now, though its tentative at first. “You don’t know how rare it is to hear someone say that. You’re the first one, in fact. It seems the more I talk to you, the more I like you, Riley.
It’s strange…I’ve known my whole life that I have to take up the duties of the monarchy. I’ve always wondered how that’s shaped me, who I might’ve been without the crown. You could be anything, do anything. What drives you, Riley?”
“What I really want is…to live every day to the fullest. Sure, I’m only waiting tables now, but…I like to make every day an adventure.”
“That’s beautiful, Riley.” A comfortable silence falls between the pair, looking out to the surf. Maxwell, Drake, and Tariq are splashing in the water.
“Got ya, Tariq!” Maxwell shouts.
“I told you, these shoes are leather!” Tariq shuffles his feet in a futile effort to avoid the water.  
“Aw, lighten up, Tariq. You’ve got, what, a hundred pairs?” Drake teases.
“Looks like your friends are having fun,” Riley says.
“Good. I’m happy for them. They deserve to have fun. Tomorrow, it’s back to Cordonia for the start of the social season,” Lia says resolutely.
“But it’s not tomorrow yet…”
“What are you suggesting?” There is a little gleam in Lia’s eye that Riley wants to keep sparkling.
“You said you wanted to see the Statue of Liberty. Let’s do it! I know a place where we can catch a boat tour. Best view in town.”
“Right now? But it’s way past midnight. Won’t all the tours be closed?”
“Oh…right. I forgot how late it’s gotten.” Riley’s disappointment lasts only a moment, and then she’s smiling again, struck by what she hopes is a brilliant plan. “In that case…you’re lucky I can call in a favor.”
Lia’s eyes are wide again. “A favor? And just like that, you can get us on tour boat after midnight to see the Statue of Liberty?”
“Well, maybe a few favors, actually, but I have some friends who owe me.” Living every day to the fullest has its perks, and that includes a lot of people she knows just well enough to ask for a favor. Riley is also banking that the opportunity to give an actual princess a tour will sweeten the pot. “It won’t be easy, but I know this is important to you, so…let’s go!”
Apparently, her speech is not enough to rally Lia, who is still standing there open-mouthed. “Right now?” she asks, again.
“It’s only getting later every minute we wait. Besides, it looks like the guys are busy enough. I bet they won’t even notice you’re gone.” Okay, I may be overselling it, just a little. But it will be worth it!
“You’re not going to take no for an answer, are you?”
“Nope.” That makes Lia grin again.
“Then I happily surrender to your demands.”
---
Riley and Lia make their way to the docks overlooking the city skyline. “…And here we wait,” Riley announces grandly.
“For?” Lia asks.
“A magical boat I’ve summoned just for you.”
“Not a bad view…” This time, when Riley glances over, Lia isn’t looking at the water. They both quickly turn their gaze back to the water. They both smile.
“Now, I’m dying to know why you’re so eager to see the Statue of Liberty.”
“Can’t you guess?”
“You want to see the Statue of Liberty..because you might never come back here.”
“You’re right. Even if I’m ever able to return to New York, it certainly wouldn’t be as a tourist. I have a feeling I’ll regret it if I don’t see the one thing I wished to when we left Cordonia. Knowing I was so close to what I wanted, but I didn’t reach out and grab it.” Lia looks back to Riley for a long moment…then looks away.
“Lia…” Just then, the blast of a horn startles them both! Looking out across the water, they can see a tour boat pulling up! “There’s our ride!”
---
A short time later, they are on their own private tour boat headed to the Statue of Liberty.
“Part of me didn’t think you’d pull this off,” Lia admits.
“You didn’t think I could pull it off? You just don’t know me very well.”
“You’re right. But I’d like to fix that. You’re fascinating, Riley. Why are you doing this for me?”
“I’m doing this because you seemed like you needed it.” It’s the easiest question Riley has been asked all night.
“That’s…so sweet of you. To be honest, no one’s ever done anything like this for me before.”
“Really? Come on, you’re a princess. I bet people do things for you all the time.”
“I do get all the perks that come with being royalty, but no one’s ever seen me as just…me. No one’s ever listened to me the way you do. No one’s ever come up with a spur-of-the-moment plan to make my dreams come true.”
“Lia…” Remember, she’s going home tomorrow. “You mean that crack team at the bachelor party couldn’t pull this off?”
“Heh. They try, but they’ve got nothing on you.” Suddenly, the boat slows and the mists of the harbor part. In the distance, the Statue of Liberty appears.
“So? What do you think?” Riley asks.
“Magnificent. I’ve heard that art has meaning because of what it makes the viewer feel. Whether it’s ink splatters on a canvas or the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, it only matters if it moves you.”
“And?” Hopefully now is not the moment Lia decides the Statue of Liberty is a rusted piece of junk.
“And right now, looking at this view with you, I feel like anything is possible. Thank you for this moment, Riley. This feeling…this means more to me than you could ever know.”
“Lia…” How am I supposed to keep it casual when you say things like that? Lia cuts her off before she can say anything else.
“I want you to know that I admire you. Your adventurous spirit. The way you follow your heart.”
“You can live that way too.”
“If only. My whole life I’ve prepared myself to do what’s best for Cordonia.”
“Well, we’re not in Cordonia now…” Riley looks up into her eyes as Lia draws close. It’s Riley who takes the plunge in the end, pulling Lia in and kissing her deeply. For a moment, Lia stands frozen in shock again, but she relaxes moments later. Riley can feel the grin on her lips before they pull away. Lia leans her forehead against Riley’s.
“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”
“I try.”
“I’m glad to have met you, Riley. I’ll never forget this night.”
---
The next morning, Riley gets ready for the day. “Last night was fun…but it’s time to face the real world…” Talking to herself is a bad habit she has gotten into since moving out on her own for the first time. “…and that means going back to work.”
She has just made it to the doors of the bar when she hears a familiar voice!
“Riley! Glad I caught you.” It’s Maxwell, and he doesn’t bother to wait for her response before continuing, talking a-mile-a-minute like a businessman trying to rush a phone call. “We’re heading back to Cordonia so Lia can find someone to marry and all that jazz. But before I go, I wanted to officially extend to you an invitation to join us for the festivities in Cordonia.”
“Huh?” I must have misheard.
“You wouldn’t usually be allowed to join…but I want to sponsor you!”
“Sponsor me?”
“I’m from a noble house, and usually they would select one of their own family members, but we can sponsor anyone we choose. And you’re my pick.”
“You want to sponsor me? Why me? Isn’t she looking for…a husband?”
“Technically,” Maxwell emphasizes this word heavily, “it says ‘spouse’. But I’m not just doing it for you. I saw how Lia looked at you last night. I’ve never seen her so happy. Honestly? I don’t want her to lose that. We’re kinda crunched for time, though. I’ve got a plane leaving within the hour…”
“Whoa! You’re moving a little fast, don’t you think?”
“No time to waste. The opening Masquerade is tonight! It’s the start of the…uh, I guess you could say, it’s the start of the competition.”
“What do you mean?” Lia didn’t mention last night that there would be some sort of Love Tournament!
“There’s a whole horde of handsome, rich, noble men vying to become Cordonia’s next king. And it’s not just about winning the Princess’ hand. You’ve also got to prove to the council that you can rule Cordonia with her. But I think you’ve got what it takes. You’re witty and charming.”
“Uh, thanks,” Riley says, dumbfounded. She knows this is insane, and Maxwell’s speech doesn’t make her feel any less nervous about being the only woman vying for the Princess’ hand, but her mouth moves on its own. “So…a fancy Masquerade…and what else am I getting myself into?”
“Fun stuff, I promise! You’ll get to go yachting in the Mediterranean, skiing in the Alps, and dancing in the Royal Palace… Or, y’know, you can stay here…and go back to your waitressing gig with your crappy boss. That’s probably about as good.” By the end, she can practically feel the sarcasm dripping from his mouth. Riley thinks back on everything that happened last night. That she said she wanted to live every day to the fullest, and how much she wanted to spend more time with Lia.
“I’m in,” she says. Maxwell does a little hop of excitement.
“Yeah! Go pack your bags. This is going to be the adventure of a lifetime!”
Tag List: @sibella-plays-choices​ @client-327​
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nordic-breeze · 5 years
Text
I was going through my files and I came over this document I sent to my friend @distant-rain pretty much the same day I realized I had fallen in love with Arthur, after weeks of being in denial or shrugging off my daydreaming of this cowboy as nbd or thought experiments and boy was I confused. 
I knew next to nothing about RDR1 when I wrote this December last year and I didn’t know much about RDR2 post chapter 2 either except for Arthur’s fate, which I had just learned of, and oml was I upset and confused. Though also scaringly accurate about certain things.
Now over six months later, I love this cowboy even more. And I kept true to my word. If anyone wanna read the rambings of a fangirl who had just found her new obsession be my guest.
I was blown away by how massive this game is. The level of detail is incredible and I greatly appreciate the effort put into creating this world. Yeah, we’ve all heard about the horse testicles shrinking in cold weather but it’s not like it’s just one bizarre detail being essentially a dick joke in an otherwise average game. No, RDR2 is detailed enough that it actually makes sense to add in peculiarities like that. The amount of wildlife alone, I mean, ever since the PS2 era I’ve been used to seeing animals in games but R* created whole-ass ecosystems in RDR2, several of’em, from snowy mountains to marshlands, with animals that act so much like actual animals. Just listening to the birds singing, it’s like being out in an actual forest!
Characterization is another thing that amazed me, in particular the protagonist. I knew nothing about the first RDR when started playing RDR2, nor did I know anything about RDR in general other than it was western-themed and made by the GTA-guys. I expected somewhat of a similar characterization as GTA where every character is a stereotype or a caricature. I genuinely liked GTAV’s story for what it was and even though every character was more or less an asshole, some of them were also weirdly likeable and even earned my sympathy (and hint of affection) occasionally.
But it never really went deeper than that nor was it particularly long-lasting (still way more than I expected tho). I bonded with one of the characters more than I thought I would but not nearly as much as I would had the characters felt more like actual humans and not like the epitome of stereotypes. But it is what R* wanted and it worked. I expected the RDR2 characters to be the same but to my surprise the characters, especially Arthur, are fleshed out, complex, even relatable (depending on your actions I guess). Unlike GTAV, they act and react like actual human beings. Well, human beings that have lived their entire life (more or less) as outlaws. In a country and time period foreign to me. But still they felt human. Ofc I’ve not gotten to know any of the NPC’s as well as Arthur but from various missions and eavesdropping on their conversation I’ve gotten to know them a bit. Hosea is my favorite. He seems like a good man despite being an outlaw and I love how everyone goes to him for advice and how supportive he is. I also wish more people (esp a certain Dutch man) could listen to him more. I also really like Charles. He definitely got morals and could be a good influence on Arthur and the others. I haven’t seen much of Sadie yet, but think I’ll like her too. Lenny seems nice. That one scene when he and Arthur went out drinking together was absolutely brilliant! And lil Jack’s adorable ofc. Only one I don’t like is Micha or Miach or whathisname. I know no one in the van der Linde gang are saints but that guy is a total psychopath. I kinda wish Arthur had gotten his way there when he said they should just leave him in jail as he was nothing but trouble and it annoys me how Dutch is sticking up for him. Yeah, speaking of, not too fond of Dutch or that German guy either atm.
But all in all very impressed by the large open world, the level of details to well, everything and the characterization. Soundtrack is great, graphics are stunning, animations smooth, the horse-riding simulation is just extraordinary and you never know what’s gonna happen as you ride through the map. The amount and variety of random events and encounters are truly impressive. Often comical, like that wildlife photographer who keeps getting almost eaten up by the wildlife he’s trying to document, sometimes eerie like the serial killer side story, or sad like when Arthur met with his former love. Or a combination of said elements like the pig farmers I ran into. With no pigs. But were still veeery well fed. You know, when people are just a liiitle bit too friendly? That eerie feeling you get when you just know something’s wrong but you can’t quite put your finger on it. Until you can. I thought they were husband and wife I really did. You shoulda seen my face when I realized they were in fact brother and sister. Me and Arthur had the exact same face. They were living as husband and wife tho. Well, up until I killed them.
I also love the contrast between the more ‘modern’ world and the simpler life. I could go into town, buy food at the saloon and rent a room or take a bath at the hotel. Or I could ride a few mins out into the wilderness, hunt and gather my own food, cook it over a bonfire and sleep under the stars. Electricity exists, but people are still completely dependent on oil lamps and open flame. Trains and trams exist, cars have been invented, but people still mainly travel on horseback. This contrast between old and new as an era is ending and the modern era is about to begin has been an amazing experience considering the level of detail the game has. The colonization of the new land, which has been largely unknown to me, the contrast between this and modern-day America we see on TV. So many people did not even speak English, I often find abandoned buildings, or burnt-down buildings, some with bodies inside, leaving me wondering what happened to them, I found a ghost town whose inhabitants had been wiped out by a plague. It was tough for many I reckon.
In fact, I find the exploration of this foreign but also somewhat familiar, beautiful but harsh world and its many random events and encounters waaay more interesting than the actual main story itself, which is why it took me forever to reach chapter 3. In fact, the story is probably my least favorite part about RDR2, as backwards as it may sound. I’ve never been into western stories or aesthetics, and I’m certainly NOT into the whole ‘outlaws till the end’ stuff ugh. I fail to sympathize with the whole ‘boo-hoo the world no want outlaws like us no more it’s unfair’. Ugh, go cry me a fucking river. And then go get a job. A real job. Yeah, I get it that adapting to society is tough, life’s tough deal with it and stop preying on others. Wow, robbing two trains in short time and staying in the same fucking area actually has consequences, I’m so shook!
So yeah, story-wise I don’t quite ‘get it’ and Dutch is really starting to get on my nerves, which is probably why I prefer to just ride off alone and experience the world. I guess RDR2 story will rely heavily on being torn between gang loyalty and your own morality and principles but since I have virtually no concept of group loyalty that is all lost on me. My own morals and principles all the way. I’m like, ‘these people suck, take Hosea, Charles, Sadie, Tilly (maybe John Marston and his family) and leave these bitches behind’.
At the beginning, I did kinda liked Dutch. He seemed genuinely sorry for Sadie, took her in and saved her life, even if it meant another mouth to feed in dire times. And he showed Kiran mercy despite hating the O’Driscol’s. But as I’ve progressed thought the game, his grand speeches about sticking together, sticking with him, slowly but surely has turned from pep-talk to keep people’s spirit up to sounding like a cult leader desperate to keep his following no matter the cost. Yesterday when I was playing, I overheard him quote some quasi-philosophy book to Lenny and used the words to twist them into his own convictions to support his decisions. And when Lenny objected, Dutch literally said ‘you’re breaking my heart, kid’. Wow Dutch, talk about manipulating your protégé.
It was the mission when those lawmen approached Arthur as he was fishing with Jack that really made me consciously see Dutch in a new light. Up until then, RDR2 had mostly been fun and games but that conversation left me feeling a bit uneasy. But I just figured it was the main story finally picking up pace and also, I figured I was near the end of the chapter. I carried on, suddenly eager to see what would happen and was thoroughly surprised by how the chapter ended. In a bad way.
While both chapter 2 and chapter 3 begins with a ‘new start’ vibe, chapter 3 felt very different from chapter 2. Mostly it was that feeling that Dutch’s obsession with ‘sticking to this life’ is going to get people killed. Idk, it’s this eerie feeling something’s wrong but can’t quite put my finger on it-feel again. But thanks to internet being internet I already knew some spoilers so I couldn’t help but to look up something and… well, let me put it this way. I’m never going to finish this game. Ever. It breaks my heart because in so many ways it’s truly an amazing game and a fantastic experience. But I’m just not that into the story, I don’t like where it’s heading and I don’t want to see what’s coming to character(s) I’ve come to care deeply about.
I still want to explore the world more, see what unfolds, do more challenges, add stuff to my compendium, maybe get some trophies… but I doubt I’ll ever progress much story-wise. Quite the contrary, I might reload an earlier save and just stay in chapter 2 forever.
(wrtten a couple of days later)
Seems my instincts was right on the money, esp concerning Dutch. Sad thing, I do believe he is sincere. In the first few chapters at least. He is manipulative but I also believe he’s convinced himself that he’s doing the right thing. And then his obsession will eventually get the better of him and when people and the lifestyle is slipping away from him, he doesn’t handle it well at all. Ugh, it’s so frustrating, I just wanna gather all my favs and yell: “leave nooow, before it’s too late!
It’s not for the sake of spacing it out or making it last. I just don’t want to progress in the story at all. I hated losing Horseshoe Overlook. HATED IT HATED IT HATED IT!!!! Yes the new place is beautiful, yes I know it’s the life of the outlaws and RDR2 does show that life for better and for worse whereas most stories tend to romanticize the whole thing, yes as outlaws they can’t stay for too long in one place. But as mentioned I have a hard time sympathize with and immerse myself into that lifestyle. Yes, I got all my upgrades and a whole new area to explore, a bigger nearby town, and closer to that big city. Still hated it. Horseshoe Overlook was my place. The Heartlands was home. And the view was stunning! And I liked Valentine. It was small and dirty but I had good memories from there. Until I had to shoot up half the town. My motivation for continuing the main story is at absolute zero.
It was more what the transition represented, I guess. You never know what will happen in RDR2. And it’s true, for random encounters, and many of the individual missions. But when it comes to the story as a whole, I feel like I already now can predict how it’ll play out. Every chapter begins with the gang on the move, finding a place to settle down and have a fresh start, even chapter 1 (as they were on the run bc a heist gone wrong or something). Then they settle down, go into town to get to know the area and establish connections and looking for easy money, often at the expenses of others. X random events later, they get too overconfident or careless, screws up or get hunted down, it ends with a shootout, then they are on the run again, finds a new place to settle down where Dutch promises that THIS TIME IT WILL BE DIFFERENT until they’re wanted on the entire map and can’t go anywhere cos the wild west is ending. I really liked it at Horseshoe Overlook and whenever Im in that area again I’ll just get sad.
I had no idea I’d gotten so emotionally invested so I was really surprised at how much I disliked moving camps and all. I’ve also gotten so fond of Arthur. I was so busy with exploring, doing challenges, learning to hunt etc I didn’t even realize it happening. Until one scene had me almost tearing up! I think because, we as the player really have to look out for him. Even though I make sure that he eats regularly, he’s still underweight. When out riding I usually set up camp when night falls so that Arthur can get some rest. Something I’d never think about in any other game. And I always give him coffee in the morning. Then it’s his journal that gives such valuable insight into who he truly is as a person. There’s no doubt he’s so much more than just a mere outlaw. He writes surprisingly well and is open and is surprisingly honest about his thoughts and feelings. How torn he is between the life of an outlaw and wanting to be a better man, a better person. How he admired Charles because, for him it was ‘so easy to just be good’ whereas he himself always feel torn between good and evil. And his journal entries when he meets his long-lost love Mary and saves her brother from the cultists. The expression on his face as he said goodbye to her on the train station… how utterly heartbroken he was… how she still loved him too… man, that one tore at my heart. Still does when thinking about it.
I wish I could take Hosea, Charles, Sadie, Tilly, John’s family and maybe Lenny too with me, run off and start anew. Charles would have good influence on Arthur and encourage him to turn his life around and find his place in society and encourage John to be a better father and role model for Jack and they could all learn how to live as free men and women without robbing or hurting anyone (unless they deserve it). Like, Charles is an excellent hunter and tracker. He’d totally get enough food for the gang and maybe even enough to sell. He could train Jack too. Hosea was always more of a conman/grifter than a brute/robber. He could con bad guys or rich assholes Robin Hood style. If anyone gave him grief, John and Arthur would settle the score. Arthur could sell animal pelts and John could take up carpeting. They’d be such a happy lil family. But, RDR1 is yet to happen so it’s all just wishful thinking *sigh*
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gingerlexi2897 · 5 years
Text
O Lord, you have searched me and known me! You know when I sit down and when I rise up;     you discern my thoughts from afar. You search out my path and my lying down     and are acquainted with all my ways. Even before a word is on my tongue,     behold, O Lord, you know it altogether. You hem me in, behind and before,     and lay your hand upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me;     it is high; I cannot attain it.
Where shall I go from your Spirit? Or where shall I flee from your presence? If I ascend to heaven, you are there! If I make my bed in Sheol, you are there! If I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there your hand shall lead me, and your right hand shall hold me. If I say, “Surely the darkness shall cover me, and the light about me be night,” even the darkness is not dark to you; the night is bright as the day, for darkness is as light with you.
Psalm 139
  CAMP
Wow. Just wow. When we embarked on this journey a month ago, I had no idea what was in store. All I knew was that we were meeting up with a team from Scotland to help run an English camp in a little town in Hungary and what I’ve seen is God work in ways far greater and higher than I could have ever imagined.
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After our few days of rest and exploring Budapest, we caught the train (well a horribly hot and smelly bus and then eventually a train) to Miskolc in the northern part of the country where we were met by Dave, an absolute gem of a Scot who roped us into this adventure, and the Hungarian pastor Atilla, and his wife Margaret. We made a few pit stops to pick up some last-minute supplies and a birthday cake for Gregor before we headed the 45 mins further north into the green mountains of northern Hungary for the little village of Bodvaszilas. As we stepped out of the minibus in Atilla and Margaret’s yard, there was this oddly comforting feeling that washed over us. This is where we are supposed to be. From the minute we stepped out of the vehicle, we were welcomed by a small crowd of thick Scottish accents and hugs from all ’round. I have never in my years of ministry seen a team connect as well or as quickly as we did with the team of Scots, Hungarians, Slovakians, and Czechs. There was none of that awkwardness or standoffishness that often comes with the territory. We were made to feel a part of the group and it wasn’t too long before I came to love them as if I had known them all my life.
Since we arrived on that Saturday afternoon/early evening, we had some time to get a little bit acquainted with the local area before we launched headfirst into camp the following day.  While camp itself didn’t technically start until Sunday evening, our duties started bright and early Sunday morning with church where we were responsible for leading worship and then down at camp where we finished the last few details of set up as the kids began to arrive.
As this year was the 10th anniversary of camp, things were a little more special than the previous years. As someone who was just having their first experience at camp, it was so cool to hear the stories and see how God has worked through camp in this little town near the Slovakian border and in the lives of people that live in the surrounding areas.
Somewhere between 140 and 150ish kids attended camp this year, but the impact on the community doesn’t just stop there. In some form or fashion, either through the cultural nights like Scottish night or American night, or the concert put on in town on Thursday, or even just afternoon sports down on the football pitch, we would end up with locals joining in on the fun. Not only is that a huge outreach, but this is the second year in a row that a group of Chinese Christians from Budapest have driven the 3 hours to be a part of what God is doing there. Standing around camp you had a glimpse of what Heaven will be like; people from all different backgrounds, cultures, and languages coming together and laughing and worshiping the same God.
The Sunday through Saturday of camp was absolutely non-stop. We were up by at least 8 every morning for team devotionals before heading down the hill to camp where we would do breakfast with the kids, followed by a wee bit of free time and then morning activities. As a way to sort of wake the kids up and get everyone hyped for the day, we would start off with singing, silly games with Stevie, a quiz, and even a small attempt at Zumba with Gregor. (please, no more squat pulses.) We would round it out with a short testimony and then split off in our respective age groups for games and lessons.
Since the kids at camp ranged anywhere from 4 to 18+, each group functioned a little differently. While the younger kids focused more on games and crafts to tell the stories of the week, the older ones had more discussion. Our theme for the week was “ARE YOU WITH ME?” to which we would respond “I AM with you.”. We took our theme from Psalm 139 about how no matter what you have done in your life or where you find yourself, God is always with you. Even in the darkest valley, even on the tops of the mountains, He is there. To illustrate this, we taught the lessons of The Rich Young Ruler (Mark 10:17-31), The Woman at the Well (John 4:4-26), Peter denying Christ (Luke 22:54-62), and Zaccheus the tax collector (Luke 19:1-10). All of these people had made mistakes and many of them in the eyes of the world were beyond redemption. Yet Jesus took time to speak to every one of them and offer them the chance at forgiveness. Each evening after games and free time, we would gather in Atilla’s church for evening worship and evangelism where we would sing a few songs and then hear a message on the lesson that we had covered earlier in the day. When Friday rolled around, we had come full circle back to Psalm 139 and Christ’s love for us.
After evangelism in the evenings, we would go back down to camp for cultural nights and on Thursday, we had a concert in the town hall where a popular Hungarian Christian singer came and lead worship for us. Friday evening as kinda the pinnacle evening, we lit a bonfire and spent the evening chatting with the friends we had made through the week. Even though I don’t speak Hungarian and many of the kids only spoke a little English, it was super cool to see how you don’t have to have a common language to have a connection. It was a good reminder to step outside of one’s self and allow God to work in the space left. Mind the gap. 
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I want to say a HUGE thank you to each and every one of you who prayed for us while we were at camp. It means so so much to all of us and I want you to know that your prayers worked. There is no way any of us should’ve had the energy to go at the week like we did or have the intentional conversations or the connections we did if not for God. Being involved in missions doesn’t just mean you have to get on a plane and fly across the world. There is so so much more to it than that and I want to thank you for going on this journey with us. 
We are already making plans to be back at camp next year, and God willing, we will have the privilege see most of these people again!
  Are you with us?
Lexi
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Also, huge shoutout to Kieren for making the camp video this year! If you’ve got a few minutes to spare, definitely take a look, it captures the week beautifully. 
  Tabor 2019 O Lord, you have searched me and known me! You know when I sit down and when I rise up;
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just-another-fan17 · 6 years
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Like You Never Left
Word count: 12,940 words (geez man)
Pairing(s): Romantic Prinxiety with some small side romantic Logicicality
Warnings: Lots of fluff, lots of angst, but we all love a happy ending (tbh I don’t think there’s any warnings...I guess anxious and or self-depreciating thoughts? Only a little though...don’t you worry) 
Author’s note: WOW OKAY. Hey guys! A little while ago I asked @tinysidestrashcaptain if I could tag them in a story I wrote featuring everyone’s favorite sides and I was really fake because I contacted them FOREVER AGO. I only just now worked up the courage to finish and post it. Oops? I’m sorry I’m doing my best over here. Please be kind to me, this is the first fanfic I’ve ever written.
Just some clarifications below…
 Anything in-between these…
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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~>>
…is a flashback
Anything before or after this…
………………………….
…is either a break in scenery or a P.O.V. change
 I included that just in case the writing isn’t clear enough, I’m so sorry. I’m a mess. I’ll go now.
~Laur
Roman’s P.O.V.
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“Okay, it’s a straight shot. Whoever gets down there first wins and gets to pick the movie for tonight.”
“Bold of you to assume there’s a chance you could ever beat me.”
The two best friends sat in their wagons preparing to take off down the steep hill, one boy ever more confident than the other. After the shouted count, “3…2…1…,” off they went, laughter echoing in the warm summer air.
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Roman pulled into the university’s parking lot with far too much time to spend in the lecture hall than he would have preferred. After a quick text, to make sure his friend was already inside, he begrudgingly hauled his backpack on and walked towards the double doors. He’d already had a terrible start to his morning when, in a rush, his shirt got caught in a loose screw on the battered screen door, pulling the thread of the sleeve, causing a small tear. Everything seemed to go downhill from there. As he trekked down the pathway, he found his thoughts drifting to how little time he had left in this place.
Junior year. Spring of junior year to be exact. Graduation was rapidly approaching for seniors, and it was all anyone seemed to be talking about. He was walking up the steps of the main building and could hear a group of friends tittering about graduation parties and dinners. He eyed them wistfully.
After a rough battle with the zipper, he was finally able to wrench the books he needed out of his backpack for art history. He then promptly threw his bag down with a glare.
“Well, don’t you look lovely this fine Friday morning.”
Roman inwardly smiled at his friend’s obvious sarcasm. His mussed up brown hair hadn’t seen a brush yet and his shirt was wrinkled with a long thread dragging a mile behind him. Truth be told he wasn’t quite feeling like himself. He hadn’t for a while, but today he seemed especially frazzled and he couldn’t for the life of him figure out why. He turned toward his friend sporting an indifferent expression.
“Logan, do me a solid and don’t attempt conversation before 8am,” he deadpanned.
Logan just smirked and raised an eyebrow, occupying the seat next to his friend.
“Is there any particular reason you look like you have not encountered a mirror this morning?” Logan eyed his friend’s out of place appearance.
Roman turned to his friend, hands flailing about, annoyance rolling off of him in waves, as he launched into his rather loud explanation.
“You wouldn’t believe the nonsense I’ve had to endure today! My alarm didn’t go off because my phone was never charging and lost it’s battery so I woke up late. I rushed out of my house only to tear my favorite shirt, suffered through an absolutely ridiculous amount of traffic, and then I didn’t have enough time to stop at Starbucks for my usual,” he finished bitterly.
Logan just smirked at his exasperated friend, barely holding back quiet laughter.
Logan McClure and Roman Prince had been close ever since the two had engaged in a very heated debate in freshman year English. While Logan is far more reserved than Roman, their drastic dynamic differences balance one another out quite seamlessly. Roman will often wax poetry about how it was written in the stars or some other such fated nonsense. Logan likes to think it was how often one was mistaken for the other. Though they only had a few lectures together, teachers always seemed to call them by the wrong name. Both with brown hair, hazel eyes, and a similar tall stature, it was difficult for most to tell them apart before Logan opted for his glasses instead of contacts. Though, in hindsight, their stark personality differences should have done the job.
Both boys waited for their teacher in amicable silence. Logan glanced at Roman out of the corner of his eye frowning. Something was going on with his friend, he could feel it. Logan knows he’s more emotionally inept than most, but if the great Roman Prince is known for one thing, it being obnoxiously loud and ‘looking absolutely fabulous at all times!’ He would be lying if he told himself Roman’s rather subdued expression and unkempt appearance wasn’t quite jarring.
“Hey, Roman-”
Roman’s text tone abruptly stopped him from voicing his thoughts.
Logan saw his face morph into something giddy…and that always spelled trouble.
“Remy’s friend is having a bonfire this Saturday!” Roman’s face lit up at the prospect, while Logan groaned internally.
Roman slowly turned to his friend, a sly expression already in place.
“Hey Lo-”
Logan, in turn, cut him off before he could even begin.
“No. I am not going to subject myself to the nonsense of Remy Marzena on one of my only two days of peace and quiet.”
Logan’s tone brooked no argument, but Roman’s puppy dog eyes had other plans.
“But I can’t go by myself! Besides, you know our dear friend Patton will be there too…” he trailed off enticingly.
“You say that as though it will influence my desire to go.” Logan leveled him with a look, fighting off the blush threatening to spread across his cheeks.
Patton Sanders had puzzled Logan ever since they’d met. He was always cheerful and optimistic at the strangest of times. Logan would forever deny how endearing the literal personification of sunshine could be. Unfortunately for Logan, he and Roman attended Springfield University, while Patton and Remy attended college up town at Pennbrook University. The only reason Logan had ever met Patton was through Roman’s rather unfortunate friendship with Remy. Both had met during the summer of freshman year at the district theater. Logan couldn’t comprehend how one person could be so…extra. Though Roman was quite theatrical himself, Remy, it seemed, was on another level. How he could be related to the sweet, kind, caring, lovable-
“Oh, do excuse me. If it weren’t for me the most socialization you’d ever experience would consist of late nights with your Advanced Methodical Statistics textbook.”
Logan didn’t appreciate the sarcasm, or the spot-on presumption. Roman’s pout was starting to get to him, and Roman did a mental victory dance when he saw the edges of Logan’s eyes soften ever so slightly.
“C’mon Lo, you wouldn’t leave me to fend for myself out there, now would you?”
Logan shifted his gaze to Roman knowing that his answer didn’t matter, seeing as he would be dragged there anyways. Roman’s pout persisted, and Logan winced as he finally felt himself give in.
“Ugh, you make me sick.”
Roman perked up at his friend’s response and texted back that he and Logan would be there. Worked every time. He learned from the best after all.
When the announcements crackled over the loudspeaker he turned and caught a glimpse of his hair in the window’s reflection.
A rat’s nest indeed.
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Roman sat with his back against his bedroom door knowing the loud knocking would only continue the longer he remained stubborn.
“Come on Ro, open the door. It can’t be that bad!”
Oh, but it was. Sixth grade started tomorrow, and he had a haircut he only ever saw in his nightmares. Everyone, it seemed, has had their experience with this particular nightmarish milestone and he was devastated to have to suffer through it so soon.
“You’re just gonna laugh at me,” Roman huffed.
“I won’t laugh I promise! C’mon open the door,” he trailed off quietly, but encouragingly.
His friend was met with stubborn silence, until a muffled “fine,” could be heard. The door opened to reveal the same old Roman…except his hair was...different. He was sporting a bowl cut that was rather reminiscent of Justin Bieber. The other boy couldn’t help the huge smile that lit up his face, which he quickly attempted hiding behind his hand but to no avail.
“SEE. I knew you would betray me!” He stomped his foot to emphasize his point. He looked for all the world like an angry kitten.
“Aw c’mon it’s not even that bad. You made it sound like they shaved half of it off and cut the rest while wearing a blindfold or something,” he paused at Roman’s squeak of offence and continued, “Look, I know we have school tomorrow, but I practically begged your mom to let me stay and watch a movie and eat lots of food to make you feel better. So, will you come downstairs with me? It’ll take your mind off of it,” he pleaded with his eyes. Those stupid brown puppy dog eyes. He knew Roman couldn’t say no to those stupid brown puppy dog eyes.
Roman looked him up and down, pretending to ponder the offer already knowing he was going to give in, and brushed past him. “We are watching The Incredibles and I get the purple blanket.”
His friend laughed and followed him down the stairs, “Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, moody.”
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He caught a small smile on his face when he snapped back to reality. Almost immediately, his normally cheerful face was downcast, and he stared at his feet. He wouldn’t be thinking about it anymore. As his day wore on, he let his friend’s comments on how tired he seemed today roll off his back, brushing off the concern. He was fine. He just had to convince himself.
His day consisted of the usual monotony plus a lecture on self-representation by multiple teachers. When his last class ended he all but ran to his car. Once he plopped in the front seat he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. After a few minutes of blissful silence, he started the car and let the radio play quietly in the background as he drove. The sun shone through the trees painting the street with a soft afternoon glow.
“Alright listeners, our next set is going to take you back. We’ve got some oldies but goodies right here on 93.7 W.S.T.W…” that was all the warning he got before Dancing Queen followed by Welcome to the Black Parade came on the radio. An odd pairing, but that didn’t stop his squeal of delight as he turned the volume up and rolled the windows down. At stoplights people in neighboring cars and passersby on the street turned to stare. His bitter sweet singing could be heard by all as he turned left down his street.
“WE’LL CARRY OOONNN, WE’LL CARRY OOONNN, AND THOUGH YOU’RE-”
He was abruptly cut off when he almost hit the back of a large truck.
His car jerked to a stop. He turned the radio down as he tried to collect himself. He stayed frozen at the four-way, long after the truck continued on its way, in an attempt to calm his breathing down. The quiet guitar solo continued in his silence as he stared into space. He found his mind wandering to late nights listening to this album with him, the smile upon hearing his favorite solo, his voice…
Eventually, the laughter of three kids riding their bikes snapped him out of the staring contest he was currently having with his steering wheel. His small smile fell from his face as he watched the kids race each other to the townhouse at the end of the street, carelessly throwing their bikes down by the porch. They looked to be no older than 11 or 12 but Roman couldn’t be sure. Once other people moved into that townhouse he hardly paid attention to that sort of thing anymore. Bottling his emotions had served him well so far. Ignorance is a foolproof system.
His thoughts drifted to the occupants of Brookhaven Ave and how little he knew of them now-a-days. He mentally counted the five families that remained from his childhood. Wait, make that four. The Berkley’s had just moved out a two months ago in October. He hadn’t even bothered to get the name of the new family that lived across the street and neither had anyone else in his family. Roman continued to stare at nothing, his eyes glazed over as he was lost in thought.
A loud honk snapped him back to his senses.
“Oh shi-” the curse was mentally cut off as he hit the gas harder than intended, jerking the car forward.
He pulled up to his porch and ambled inside, with a quick “I’m home!” to announce his presence. Without a word from anyone else, he made it to his room where he released a big sigh that was supposed to release the tension from his shoulders. He flopped on his bed and looked out the window only to see those three kids back on their bikes circling around the corner. He let out a wistful sigh as his gaze caught the rope still attached to his bed. He smiled wryly.
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He used all the strength that a lanky, 9th grade emo could possibly muster to tie the rope securely to the bottom of the bedpost.
“There.” He stood up eyeing his work proudly.
“Okay, so what’s the plan exactly? You haven’t told me what you’re doing and honestly I’m starting to wonder if I should be scared,” Roman said teasingly.
He turned back, trying to hide the blush threatening to spread across his cheeks at Roman’s remark. Thank god for foundation. He took a deep breath that was supposed to help compose himself and turned around, smirk in place. “Okay, so, I know you’re not allowed out tomorrow for the Fourth of July-”
“Yeah no thanks to you,” Roman cut in, only slightly miffed.
He scowled the interruption and continued, “-Anyway…your parents know you’re not supposed to be out. Fortunately, mine do not,” he finished proudly.
“Am I supposed to be getting where you’re going with this?” he asked tiredly.
His friend rolled his eyes and exhaled slowly through his nose. “The fireworks start at 9:30pm. You can still hang with me at my house and we can watch them from the roof as planned. All you have to do is throw this out the window and climb down. Easy. Simple.”
Roman wasn’t sure if he was supposed to laugh or scoff, so he settled for a mix of both.
“Y’know, if it were anyone else, I’d tell them I’m not scaling the side of my house to hang out with the person who put me on house arrest,” he finished.
Roman stood and grabbed the rope testing its strength.
“Ah, well, good thing I’m not anyone else,” he countered smugly.
Later that night, Roman’s parents would find his room empty. Too busy wondering how the heck he got out of the house, they missed the dangling rope keeping the window cracked.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~>>>
The rest of the week continued with nothing more eventful than a pop quiz in art history. It was finally Friday night, and the small group of friends were hanging out in Logan’s basement as per Roman’s begging request. The guys had been informed of the bonfire earlier that week and apparently a good handful of people were going to be there, much to Logan’s distaste. All the sudden this weekend was looking to be pretty miserable. Logan didn’t realize he was scowling until someone was waving their hand in front of his face to get his attention. He looked up to see Patton with a confused look in his eye.
“Hey, you okay? You were…glaring,” he finished with an uncertain smile. Before he could respond, Remy opened his mouth from across the room.
“Astute observation Pat, but he’s been glaring at the corner of the room for the past 20 minutes now,” he said laughingly. Roman just looked on in amusement, at the flustered look on his friend’s face.
“I’m quite alright. I was just thinking about tomorrow and suffering through an entire evening with Remy.” He put his head in his hand and continued, “Maybe I’ll just stay home and tell everyone that I’m dying of a terminal illness,” he trailed off languidly. Logan inwardly grimaced at how utterly dramatic and Roman that statement was, though he quickly brightened up when Patton laughed.
Remy had finally had enough of this blatant disrespect. It was a party.
“God, you too? How many people do I have to bend over backwards to convince to quit being such a stick in the mud?” The frustration was clear on his face as his head flew back in exasperation. “It’ll be fun. Gurl, honestly, you can’t even talk. You always say shit like that and then you finally get there, and you end the night with: ‘That was actually pleasantly surprising,’ or ‘I suppose it was not as unbearable as I expected,’” he said imitating his voice with annoying accuracy.
Roman stayed quiet that night. He tuned out the good-natured bickering of Logan and Remy. The smile slipped off his face as his thoughts consumed him again. He glanced at Patton who was not so subtly staring at Logan, lovestruck expression in place. He sighed bitterly to himself. He was really happy for his pining friends, ecstatic even, but his lovesick heart could only take so much. Roman was suddenly shaken by his own thoughts.
“Oh god…lovesick?”
He was brought back to reality by Patton shouting over Logan and Remy.
“Guys, GUYS!” His dad voice captured the attention of his friends and they silenced immediately. “Enough fighting. You will settle your differences like civilized people.”
Roman looked up to see the Mario Kart loading screen and Patton holding four Wii remotes.
Logan and Remy just looked at each other sly grins in place.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“You better look out Princey, I’m catching up!”
“I don’t think so, you hot topic reject…” Roman threw back a red turtle shell and laughed victoriously when it hit head on.
They were on the last lap of the final race of the circuit and he was not about to give up yet. Roman was too cocky for his own good, and he looked to change that. His gaze hardened with determination, and a sadistic smirk grew on his face, as he gained another power up. A game changing power up. His smile quickly turned even more sinister as they sped closer towards the finish line.
“Hey, Princey.” Roman looked over at him briefly acknowledging his words.
“I’m sorry our friendship had to end this way.” Roman’s eyes flew wide with betrayal as he finally realized what was about to go down.
With no hint of guilt or remorse, the blue turtle shell was sent with a shout of victory.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~>>>
Roman woke up the next day with not much else to do than wait around and start getting ready.
He was scrolling through the depths of YouTube when he got a text from Remy.
HEY if you don’t start getting ready you’ll never get there and then I’ll have to kill you and I don’t plan on going to jail for manslaughter
A few seconds later…
Yet
A laugh bubbled out of him before he could stop it.
How Remy seemed to sense these things was beyond him. He let out an overdramatic sigh and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Damn, it was 5:30pm already? After putting on fabulously subtle makeup, he decided to check the weather and of course it was going to be unreasonably cold. Why did life hate him so?! He ran his fingers through his hair pushing it out of his way and opened his closet.
His eyes locked onto the old, abandoned hoodie before his mind could catch up with him. His grip on the door loosened as his shoulders deflated ever so slightly. Suddenly struck with annoyance he scoffed and reached for the hoodie. He was so over being sad and melancholy all the damn time.
Besides, he was in an edgy mood as of late.
 Virgil’s P.O.V.
He stood in the middle of his room looking at all the packed boxes with his heart in his throat. It felt like the room was slowly suffocating him. He was going back soon, and if that didn’t fill him with enough terror and anxiety for the rest of this life and the next, he didn’t know what would. Worse than that? He was living on the same street. Right across the street. What the fuck was he supposed to do now? Never go outside and hope for the best?
Luckily, his mom knocked on his door frame and cut off his downward spiral.
“Hey V? You doing okay? The moving truck should be here in about 10 minutes…” she cut in gently.
“Yeah I-, yeah.” His gaze never left the pile of boxes as he answered.
His mom sighed and sat on his bed, motioning for him to do the same.
“Honey, I know this move is sudden. I know you’ve already begun school, but I thought you’d be thrilled being able to go back! You were devastated when we left Pennsylvania, and it’s still something I haven’t forgiven myself for but-…” she was rambling.
“Mom.” He cut her off. Her jaw snapped shut at the harsh tone. Something she still hadn’t gotten used to over the years.
“In case you’ve forgotten,” he continued, “I didn’t exactly leave on the best of terms,” he finished, scowl in place.
It was the one thing he would never forgive his father for. No, no he can’t even blame his father.
‘You were the one who kept it from him, remember? Remember how heartbroken he looked? How could he ever have trusted you after that?’
He had to shake himself from his thoughts. His mind consistently antagonizes him with everything he should have done differently, and damn him, for messing everything up. He knew whose fault it was. It was only natural that he’d try to find someone else to pin the blame on.
He knew he had changed over the years. There’s only so much pretending you can do to convince people everything is fine before it wears you down. Eventually, he just stopped trying. His smiles dimmed until they weren’t there anymore, leaving an almost permanent scowl. His broad shoulders hunched in on themselves. Any and all optimism flew out the window, replaced by stone-cold cynicism.
High school wasn’t easy on him. Best years of your life, my ass. He looked back at most of high school with a bitter resentment and longing. Finishing senior year somewhere totally new just seemed to taint what good memories he retained. It was hard enough for a gay, edgy emo to make friends as it was, but when they moved, V didn’t even try. He didn’t want to try anymore. The bullying only cemented that decision. So he kept building his walls higher and higher. No one could be allowed to see past his walls ever again.
“V, honey, it’s been years since I’ve seen you smile. I know that things have been less than ideal. This whole move, transferring all your credits, starting at a new university is scary. It’s okay to be scared.” She looked over only to see her son glaring at the floor, but continued. “Penenbrook is a great school and I just know that you’ll make friends this time around. Your father’s relocation could be good for you. Besides, I know at least one person will probably still be waiting for you when we get back.” She turned gauge his reaction. He could only offer a sad, barely-there smile still aimed at the grey carpet. He could only hope at least.
When he didn’t reply, she got up and grabbed a box. “C’mon. Let’s get some of these downstairs.”
The family packed their belongings in a tense silence. His mom tried to initiate small talk but the two Manson men didn’t feel like talking. It’s a surprise to no one that V and his dad don’t have the best relationship either. Both of his parents have jobs involved with the government that prevent them from sharing certain information with their family. V had to learn to understand that sometimes not one but both of his parents had to go away on the weekend and he wasn’t allowed to know where or why. As he grew older, he couldn’t help the part of his mind that wanted to resent his parents. When they moved away from his childhood home it only worsened.
Once the van was packed up, he slid into the back seat and put on his headphones almost immediately. T-minus 13 hours and 45 minutes. He passed the houses and streets he’d come to know the past three and a half years. He didn’t expect to feel any sadness upon leaving, and he was correct in that assumption.  He couldn’t help the jolt of excitement he felt when the car passed by a sign that said, “Now Leaving Florida, Come Back Real Soon!”  
Maybe things were finally looking up for him.
………………………………………………………………
Things were decidedly not looking up for him.
He and his family were all sitting at the dinner table when his mom dropped the bomb on him. The chit chat immediately stopped when she noticed his expression. He paused with his fork halfway to his mouth.
“…What?” Silence reigned, so he tried again.
“What?”
His father had finally had enough with his apparent insolence and put down his utensils to stare his son in the eyes.
“Pennbrook is a fine school with top programs and teachers. I will not listen to your complaints simply because you are unable to live on campus,” he said with gruff finality.
In hindsight, he should have looked into it, but as of late, his mind has been…occupied by other things. Now, however, all he could think about is the lack of privacy he would now be subjected to living at home full time. On some days, he’d argue that it be worse than prison. He and his father were stuck in a glaring match until the boy finally gave up and sat back in his chair allowing an overdramatic sigh to fill the room.
Dinner continued, and he found himself staring out the window at the house across the street. The light was still on in his room.
…………………………………………………………………
Monday came sooner than he would have preferred.
He slammed his hand down on his alarm clock and looked over at the time. He blearily processed that it was 6:00am and that he needed to get up in order to ensure the least amount of embarrassment today. He pulled his blankets off and walked towards the door furiously trying to rub the remanence of sleep out of his eyes. A light switch would have been useful but that was all the way on the other side of the room, so he was flying blind. In his sleep induced stupor, he forgot that there were still boxes all over his room and that fate never planned on being kind to him. He barely took three steps before he stubbed his toe and fell forward.
“AH, fucking dammit!” He sat on the floor, his head between his knees, debating on whether he even wanted to stand up. Eventually, he decided he’d rather suffer in class than face his father’s wrath today.
He survived the rest of his morning routine without any other mishaps. He threw on his black skinny jeans, combat boots, and patched up hoodie. He didn’t even want to think about what he would have to endure today. He looked at himself and tried to look at the bright side. At least, there was going to be no picking on him. He learned early on that looking as scary and unapproachable as physically possible could really help you in the long run. He ran his fingers through his hair in an attempt to tame it, but a few stubborn bangs still hung in his vision. His eyes were cold, and he prided himself on his disaffected scowl. If he was lucky he could just sit in the back and blend in. He put light, barely there, black eyeshadow under his eyes just for kicks. He supposed this new school could use an edgy loner. He would gladly fill that position.
He ran his fingers through his hair and walked downstairs. After grabbing his keys, his wallet, his backpack, and an apple on the way out the door, he roughly sat down in his old, beat up Honda Civic and plugged in his phone. An oldies emo playlist should lift his spirits. A loud guitar blasted through the speakers, and he was off down the street sparing a single glance back in the mirror.
His classes didn’t start until 8:00am but he was still surprised he found good parking at 7:15am. He parked his car in the visitor’s spot and walked up to the main entrance. He couldn’t help the scoff at the saying etched into the archway of the building.
“Pennbrook, where excellence is habit? Oh, god.” He shook his head and sighed.
He walked in towards the main office with his backpack slug over one shoulder, already slightly amused at the atmosphere this school was attempting to put forth. As he walked down the hall, he saw posters and signs with various absurd sayings: “Pennbrook University, where forward thinking begins,” “Preparing for life is more than just test scores,” and his favorite, “Be who you are and be it well.” Yeah, okay.
He walked into the main office and was greeted by a too-perky receptionist.
“Hello! What can I do for you, son?” He wore a light brown sweater, a pink tie, and glasses. His desk was covered in various amounts of different cartoon paraphernalia, some he recognized and others he did not. His blinding smile crinkled by his eyes.
“Hi, I’m the new transfer student? I was told to come early today for my official schedule and ID card?” He kept ending his statements as questions, but the man didn’t seem to mind.
“Ah, yes, of course! Manson, Vi-”
“-uh, just V sir. Please.” He was quick to cut him off with a wince, lest anyone else hear.
The man peered up at him through his glasses with an amused glint in his eyes.
“Of course.” He walked back over to his desk to fish around for V’s papers and handed them over with a sugary sweet smile.
“Your first class begins at 7:50am. Here is your schedule as well as your student ID. The school layout is pretty simple. Three ‘L’ shaped buildings, two floors. First floor room numbers begin with one and second floor room numbers begin with two. I’m sure you’ll be able to figure it out. If for some reason you’re having any trouble, I’m sure one of our students or faculty members could help direct you,” he finished his rant looking to see if he caught all that.
“Thank you, Mr…” he trailed off inquiringly.
“…Picani,” he supplied.
“Mr. Picani. I really appreciate it,” he said with a slight smile. That smile immediately fell of his face as he turned to walk out into the hallway.
And with that, he was out in search of his first class. He had enough time to glance through his schedule and walk to all the classrooms he would be forced to suffer in for 50 minutes later that day. It was still only 7:40am, but he begrudgingly walked to his first lecture. The hallways were quite crowded at this point, but it didn’t matter. People parted like the red sea when he turned down the hallway. He was a few inches or so over six feet with dark eyes, an eyebrow piercing and a pointed glare in anyone and everyone’s general direction. His gait held a purpose as he walked swiftly and quietly into his homeroom. A quick scan of the room and he was walking toward the seat all the way in the back by the window. The room quieted ever so slightly as he made his way to his chosen seat. He dropped his bag to the floor and pulled his headset on determined to drown out the noise. Chatter slowly built back up as the clock approached 7:50am.
An older man in his mid to late 40’s walked in and called for silence. V took this time to actually look up and realize that someone had dared to occupy the seat next to him. The boy looked at him and smiled slightly before looking back at their professor.
“Good morning, delinquents,” he said as he set his things down. The class laughed as he prepared to take attendance.
V tensed in his seat because he knew what was undoubtably coming. He just had to appear unaffected and maybe it would pass over painlessly.
“…Jenson, Lombardo, Marzena, Mans,” The man started rattling off names, but stopped as though he wasn’t expecting one of them. No doubt his. God, didn’t they inform teachers of anything anymore?! The professor looked up scanning the room until his gaze landed on V.
“Manson?” he questioned.
V sat unmoving as all heads swiveled in his direction. Using every ounce of strength not to crumble as all eyes were on him, he only offered a two fingered solute as any indication his professor was correct.
“Ah, Mr. Manson, I was informed of your transfer. Might I inquire from which school?” He asked innocently, a tired smile in place.
V sighed but answered, “Sandalwood State in Florida. My family just moved back to PA.”
“Oh wonderful, I do hope you find Pennbrook to be a wonderful school to spend the remainder of your college years,” he said with gusto. He turned back to his attendance sheet, read off the rest of the names, and launched into the syllabus.
V was shocked to say the least. Maybe he could get by without his name being spoken aloud. A futile hope, but hey, he was doing good so far. Maybe this luck would stick with him. The kid next to him chose this moment to turn to him and try to introduce himself.
“Hi, I’m Patton,” he smiled amicably. He had a fairly tall build with brown hair and shinning blue eyes.
V just stared, shocked that anyone would even attempt conversation at this point. C’mon, his resting bitch face should’ve been enough!
“I’m V,” he supplied.
“Just V?”
“Just V.” He turned away trying to cut off anymore interaction.
V was hoping that this horrifying awkward tension would be enough to halt this conversation in its tracks, but then again, he was never that lucky. A kid wearing sunglasses chose this moment to turn around and introduce himself.
“Hey gurl. I’m Remy, the fun one, here for your viewing pleasure,” he spoke around the straw in his Starbucks iced macchiato bullshit. He had short brown hair swept back from his face. V couldn’t help the snort that came from his nose at the boy’s antics. He relaxed slightly in his chair.
“I’m V, the emo one, from your nightmares,” he deadpanned. That line had both Patton and Remy laughing.
Remy eyed the singular eyebrow piercing, eyeshadow and unruly hair.
“Honestly honey, I would’ve pegged you as a mellowing punk kid,” he pondered aloud. V just stared.
“A mellowing punk kid…” V tested the words on his own tongue. “Original. I haven’t heard that one yet,” he let a smirk ease its way onto his face.
The sudden shuffling startled him out of this impossible interaction. It seems the syllabus was all that was going to be covered today. V was at a loss. It was his first day, and he was supposed to be silently brooding in the corner. Patton reached for V’s schedule and scanned over it.
“Oh cool, you’ve got Philosophy with me at 2:30pm!” His eyes scanned over the rest of the sheet. “That means you can join us for lunch!” V tried to object but Patton looked back up and him with hopeful shinning eyes that were rather reminiscent of a small child, and V found his resolve weakening.
“I-…s-sure, whatever,” he mumbled.
With that, they grabbed their stuff as Remy dramatically gestured toward the door.
“Follow me, you tall, misunderstood shadowling!” V looked at him with an eyebrow raised.
“You’ll soon learn that my brother will be the most dramatic and theatrical person you’ve ever met,” Patton supplied helpfully.
Remy just laughed without denying his claims, and the three of them marched on to find food.
Maybe not the most theatrical…but he was pretty darn close.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was one of his cleverer ideas.
The two friends were lounging on V’s bed when inspiration struck. Roman jumped up jostling V, who had his head hanging over the side of the bed.
“Good sir, I think I have a particularly grand idea,” he declared with a regal stance.
“Thank God. I don’t think I’ve ever been this bored in my life,” V said unmoving.
“We shall construct a grand movie theatre and have an equally grand Disney movie marathon!” Roman shouted a bit loud for V’s taste, but he was intrigued nonetheless.
“How many times are you going to say ‘grand’ before you explain how exactly we will accomplish that?” He said with playful sarcasm.
“Dishonor me again peasant and I will see to it personally that you die a very painful, boring death.”
V fought to keep the smile off his face.
………………………………………………………….
“It’s a drive-in movie!” they chorused. V’s mom felt an amused smile tug at the corners of her mouth.
She had to admit, it was pretty well put together, considering they were only eight. The TV set had been pushed against the open bay window facing the deck with blankets draped around acting as curtains. The two friends had dug out their old, beat up wagons and piled them high with pillows, blankets and popcorn. They were her really expensive throw pillows, but she couldn’t find it in her heart to discipline them.
“Just make sure you kids put everything back where it’s supposed to be when the movie is over,” she said with a smile. The two just offered her cheeky grins and a promise that everything would be cleaned up.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~>>>
Days turned into weeks, and weeks very quickly turned into a few months. Christmas and New Year’s had come and gone, and spring fever was in the air. V was honestly shocked at how fast time seemed to be going by. School was bearable. He had actually managed to make friends, but even then, he tried to keep his distance. They were constantly trying to get him to go out with them, but he was content with just observing from the side lines. He skipped out on all the hangouts. The only real friend he’d ever had was, it seemed, too far out of his reach. He didn’t need to depress himself further by going out to some party where everyone knew everybody else. That’s what he kept telling himself anyway. It was best not to think about it.
“Hey tall, dark, and emo. How are you this fine morning?”
Welp. The universe just shot that dream straight to hell.
Remy leaned against the door of V’s emptying lecture hall peering at him over his sunglasses with a suggestive smile, awaiting a response. V already knew where this conversation was headed, and honestly, he wasn’t sure how much more of this hounding he could take.
“I’m not going,” he said as he brushed past him avoiding eye contact. Remy hurried after him nonetheless. They both had lunch with Patton, so he wasn’t about to escape that easily.
“Oh, come on, dead girl walking, just come out with us this weekend. You need to get out and experience the people outside this mental asylum,” Remy complained. V smirked a little at his comment before carefully schooling his expression back to careless and uninterested. Despite his efforts, Remy saw it and decided to jump on it while he had the chance.
“Look, it’s a simple gathering with some food, some people, and a bonfire. There isn’t much that could go wrong, so you can give your anxious mind a break.” Remy was aiming for casual conversation, but he couldn’t conceal the whining annoyance in his tone. After being turned down too many times in the past week, there wasn’t much patience he had left to offer.
“My anxious mind is fine. And anyway, I couldn’t go out this weekend even if I wanted to. Both of my parents are away, and I need to watch the house,” V knew it was a weak excuse, but he’d had a long morning and lunch was calling his name. Remy scoffed.
“Where are your parents going that they needed to entrust you to ‘watch the house’? I don’t think your house would spontaneously combust if you left for a few hours.” Remy tried to keep the amusement out of his voice but failed miserably.
“My dad is involved with the government and sometimes his job requires my parents to go away for a few days. I’ve never known what for. He’s never legally been allowed to tell me. All I do know is that they’re both in Washington D.C., or so I’ve been told.” V spoke as if it didn’t really matter, but Remy could sense the underlying irritation.
Remy’s eyebrow quirked up at that. He and Pat had known him ever since a little ways through the first semester and he was quickly adopted by Patton, forming their little group of friends, but the ever-elusive boy was never really forthcoming with any information regarding his past or parents. The more he thought about it, he didn’t really know much about his dark, strange friend. Hell, they didn’t even know his name. Remy sought to change that. He continuously refuses to hang out with anyone outside of school and Remy just can’t fathom why. Who doesn’t want to have fun? Any outing with the fabulous Remy Marzena is surely not an outing to be missed.
“Damn that sounds frustrating. What did you do when you were little, and they had to go away?”
It was an innocent question. V knew that he didn’t mean anything by it.
That didn’t stop the pain in his chest.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was 2:13am.
“I just don’t understand. I’m their son, right? I feel like I’m supposed to know. I must be obligated to know, right?” V asked anger coursing through his veins.
Roman just sat on his bed and listened to him vent. V was staying with his family for what seemed like the tenth weekend in a row. He could see this eating away at him. V always claimed that he was fine. That it didn’t really bother him. That there was nothing to worry about. He was just about done dealing with his fake smile until V’s careful control all but snapped about ten minutes ago.
“I mean, I know it was last minute, and they said they didn’t want to, but this happens all the time. We were all supposed to hang out this weekend, and last weekend, and the week before. It’s like they plan these things just so they don’t have to spend time with me,” he finished bitterly. His anger was quickly diminishing, a defeated expression overtaking his features. He stopped pacing to stare at the carpet.
He looked at V with sad eyes but didn’t interrupt. There were tears at the corners of his eyes when he finally let out a choked sob.
“Am I really so bad that they’ll take any and every chance to get away from me?” V turned to him, looking for something, anything that could prove him wrong.
Roman quickly stood up, crossed the room and pulled him into a tight embrace. V clung to him like he would disappear if he let go and cried on his shoulder until there were no more tears left. He pulled away, an apology on the tip of his tongue, but Roman cut him off before he could even begin.
“Don’t. Don’t you dare apologize,” he cut in hotly. He saw his friend’s thick tears, broken expression, and smudged eyeshadow and something inside him snapped.
V’s eyes widened, and his jaw snapped shut. He looked taken aback at his forcefulness. A few stubborn tears still rolled down his cheeks. He tugged him over to sit on the bed and forced V to look him in the eyes.
“It burns me up inside to see you apologizing for your emotions so don’t do it again.” V took a minute to absorb his words and nodded mutely, his eyes never straying from the determined, hazel pair staring back.
“I saw how upset your mom was when they left. Her strained smile may have fooled you, but it didn’t fool me,” his eyes softened as he decided to give up on the tough guy act and sit down beside him. He hesitated before taking V’s hand in his own. A blush took over his face but he continued. “I know this is hard for you. I know you wish that they were around more often. I don’t want this making you think that you aren’t worth anything to anyone. Your feelings matter. You matter. You have so many people that care about you. Hell, my parents have practically adopted you and I’m convinced that they like you more than me,” he huffed out a laugh trying to lighten the mood.
He saw the ghost of a smile on V’s face. He let the silence hang over them for a few minutes before continuing, “They do love you, y’know. They might not be so good at showing it, but they love you, so much,” he said desperately. V’s gaze remained resolutely on the floor. He resolutely ignored the part of his mind that thought Roman meant it wasn’t only his parents that loved him so much. His small smile fell into a thin line.
“How do you know?” he mumbled, voice was still strained. His friend perked up dramatically with his signature mega-watt smile.
“Because, I’m your best friend. I know everything,” he said proudly with his hand on his chest. He batted his eyelashes at V until he couldn’t resist a small laugh.
V turned to him and his eyes softened as he tried to think of how he could possibly put into words how much that meant to him. How much he meant to him. So, naturally, he did what any other emotionally insecure 17-year-old boy would have done at a time like this. V’s eyes turned mischievous and Roman looked at him confused by his sudden mood swing. Before he could blink, V snaked his arm around his waist and swung him around onto his back. His friend let out an undignified squeal as V quickly pinned him under his weight. He squirmed to get out of V’s hold, and had this been a few years ago he would have succeeded, but with V’s recent growth spurt his struggle was fruitless. V quickly pinned his hands above his head in victory. Their hysterical laughter dissipated the remaining atmosphere in the room.
However, as their laughter died down, both of them seemed to realize just how close they were. Both boys were panting heavily, sporting a pink blush. Roman was short-circuiting. Holy fucking shit he’s on top of me, he’s on TOP OF ME, HE’S-. V wasn’t doing too well himself, suddenly realizing the compromising position he threw himself into. Neither one dared move.
In the middle of V’s spiraling thoughts about forcing yourself on you best fucking friend for god’s sakes, what are you doing!? What were you thinking?!, Roman’s eyes shifted to V’s lips and back to his piercing stare.
That stopped his train of thought in its tracks, and his breath hitched audibly. V didn’t know what the heck he was doing, but he felt himself slowly leaning in anyway. Their lips were only a hairs breath apart-
A loud car horn snapped them both out of their fervor and V sat up with barely concealed panic. Roman sat up as well and the two of them were decidedly looking everywhere except each other.
Eventually, Roman cleared his throat and V’s gaze snapped back to him.
“Perhaps we should get some rest, yeah?”
V looked at him and nodded in agreement, and they both shared a small smile, silently agreeing to forget about whatever just almost happened. They rolled onto their backs, pulled up the covers, and stared at the ceiling. When V heard the steadying of Roman’s breath, he turned on his side and mumbled out a quiet, sincere “thank you,” into the silence.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~>>>
“I stayed at a friend’s house,” he said looking away. He was currently thanking whoever was looking out for him up there for his choice of an extra layer of foundation today.
Remy nodded his head and didn’t pry any further accepting his short explanation. They both fell into a comfortable silence as they paid for their food and made their way to a table in the back of the cafeteria. Pat was already there. Remy decided to leave a standing offer if he decided to change his mind.
“Well, if you feel like living dangerously tomorrow, you text me and I’ll pick you up on my way to the party. I can’t stay too long so that means you won’t have to stay too long if you’re really that hesitant.” Remy looked at him awaiting a response. V just sighed and looked over to him tiredly.
“If I consider it, will you let me suffer through the rest of my day in peace?” he huffed. Remy’s whole face practically lit up and Patton let out a tiny squeal in delight.
“I’ll take that as a definite maybe!” he cheered.
V just groaned and glared in the other direction.
 Both P.O.V.
He was not one for social outings. The bonfire started at 7 o’clock and he was no closer to a decision. He’d already received a text from Remy earlier that day asking if he was “ready to live a little.” He stared at his phone debating on whether he really wanted to face people tonight. Somewhere deep down he really did want to go, but his mind was constantly rattling off hinderances: “You’re just going to be sitting alone the whole time. They probably won’t even like you. Remy only offered to be nice.”
He was getting really sick of that voice. He stared down at his phone, the text bar blinking back at him. In a moment of pure impulsiveness, that he would probably regret later, he finally sent a message back:
Fine. But if this all goes to shit, I will never go outside again and you will be forced to live with that on your conscience forever.
He got an instant enthusiastic response:
YES. FINALLY. Fucking took you long enough lol
I’ll come by your house at 6:45pm…shouldn’t take us too long to get there but I will need an address from you 😉
V will never understand this boy’s constant positivity. Patton must be rubbing off on him. He sent his address nonetheless. He trudged up to his room trying to decide if his usual style would scare everyone. If he was being honest his style had really mellowed out over the years. People would laugh if they could see his 14-year-old self now. He shook himself of the thought and settled for ripped black skinny jeans, a distressed purple long sleeve, a black beanie, and his old black combat boots.
Time ticked by quicker than he would have liked. Soon enough he received a text from Remy saying he was waiting outside with Pat. He looked in the mirror and gave himself a mental pep-talk before heading out the door. His hand hesitated at the handle as he gazed through the window. He looked longingly across the street and saw all the downstairs lights on. He prayed no one could see him as he walked out and quickly made his way to the car waiting for him. Pat was driving it looked like and Remy was in the front passenger seat. He made his way into the back seat only to look up and find two pairs of eyes scrutinizing him.
“Uh, can I help you?” he said defensively. Both boys just laughed causing his scowl to grow.
“Relax, we just thought with all the glaring and brooding you do at school your outfit would be a little more emo than this,” Remy replied breezily.
“Weren’t you the one who dubbed me the mellowing punk?” V replied smirking. Remy just laughed and typed in the directions to his friend, Jake’s house.
“Hey kiddo! I love your eye makeup!” Patton looked awed and V was just shocked he’d received a compliment at all. He looked at Pat and smiled shyly.
“Thanks Pat.”
The car fell into an easy silence as they drove. Internally, V was freaking out a bit. He had agreed to go to this thing, but he had absolutely no idea what was in store for him. As if reading his thoughts, Patton piped up from the driver’s seat seemingly sensing his panic.
“We’re almost there, he lives in the next town over so it’s not too far,” he began. V took his chance to grill them for information.
“So…who’s going to be at this party exactly,” he said hesitantly.
“It going to be us and a few of the other guys and gals.” He looked both ways and turned left at the intersection.
“And who are these ‘other guys and girls’ exactly? Where do they go to school?” he asked. He stared at his phone trying to appear less anxious.
“Oh, they all go to Springfield University,” he replied easily. V’s head snapped up.
“Springfield University?” he parroted back, eyes wide.
He must have heard him wrong.
Patton glanced at him in the rear-view mirror in confusion.
“Yeah. Why, do you know someone?” Pat asked out of curiosity.
V took a minute to calm himself down and rationalize that Roman probably didn’t go there. V remembered that Ro had thought about it, but before they finished high school, he was still on the fence about Springfield and the local charter school. Besides…how could he know Remy or Patton anyway…The chances were infinitesimal at best.
“Yeah,” he replied without thinking. “Well, no, I mean I used to know someone who might go there, but I doubt he’d be wherever we’re going tonight.” Remy wasn’t sure if V was trying to reassure them or himself. Remy looked at Patton, then back at V before posing his own question.
“Oh. How’d you know him?”
V took a minute to respond. In that time, a small bitter sweet smile spread on his face.
“We were best friends,” he began. The other two boys thought that was all they were going to get out of him, but he continued after a small huff of laughter, “He lived down the street and we did practically everything together. Ever since we were little we were a neighborhood menace.” He laughed outright at that as he remembered a particular moment with Mrs. Berkley chewing them out for drawing on the side of her house with sidewalk chalk.
The other boys were stunned into silence. They had never seen V so easygoing and animated. He seemed almost wistful. But then his smile became crestfallen. “But-..uh…I haven’t really seen him since senior year of high school when I moved.” His head was in his hand as he looked out the window.
Remy was watching him carefully. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say V looked a little lovesick. Eventually, Patton spoke up and that was enough for V to catch himself and revert back to his usual closed off expression.
“Well, what’s his name?”
V just stared at the back of the driver’s seat. It was a simple question, so why was it so hard to just say it. This wasn’t Harry Potter and he wasn’t Voldemort. For so long, he never spoke his name simply because the memories were too much. Even his family had picked up on it. His mom was always so careful about it, like she was constantly walking on egg shells. Those mannerisms were eventually present in nearly every interaction, but V didn’t like to dwell on it much. He seemed to finally snap out of whatever daze he was in before he realized he hadn’t answered yet.
“Roman. Roman Prince,” he finally choked out.
Oh.
Oh.
Patton and Remy both shared a look of disbelief before they carefully schooled their expressions.
“Well hey, maybe one of these guys will know him,” Pat encouraged. V offered a noncommittal shrug before turning his gaze back down to his phone.
“Yeah. Maybe,” V mumbled.
……………………………………………………………………..
When they pulled up to the house V tried to quell his initial panic upon seeing the ridiculous amount of people. This had to qualify as some sort of public disturbance, right? The sound of Patton and Remy opening their respective car doors shook him from his anxious thoughts. He silently followed them towards the house. Once they got to the end of the driveway, a smiling blonde came walking towards them.
“Hi guys! Glad you could make it. Who’s your friend?” he asked with a welcoming hug and smile.
“Hey kiddo! This is V. He just moved here a few months ago,” Pat answered for him.
“Hi Jake, thanks for having me,” V replied nervously. After some relatively painless small talk, and an explanation as to where everything is, he left the three to their own devices.
There was a huge bonfire out back stocked with anything and everything to make s’mores, along with patio furniture and extra chairs set up on the driveway surrounding a smaller fire pit to accommodate the ridiculous throng of teenagers. Roman and Logan had just roasted some marshmallows, with only a few marshmallow fires to report, and were now sitting on the driveway chatting aimlessly. Roman snuggled deeper into his hoodie as a particularly cold breeze made him shiver.
Patton and Remy quickly surveyed those they could see and lit up when they spotted Roman and Logan. Remy finally spoke up and began to introduce everyone he knew from afar.
“Okay, so you’ve met Jake. Over on the couch is Julia, Maddie, Brandon, Matt, and Anna,” Remy rattled off. He smirked at Pat motioning for him to continue.
“And, over on the other side is Lia, Peyton, Roman, and Logan,” Patton finished. V was nodding his head along before what Pat said had finally caught up with him.
His entire body froze and his breath hitched audibly.
No. No.
His eyes were impossibly wide, and his mouth was opening and closing at a loss for words. He jumped behind Patton and curled his hands into fists, quietly cursing the air blue.
“Are you guys fucking kidding me right now?! Why the fuck didn’t you tell me he was going to be here!? I can’t fucking talk to him, you don’t get it!” He whisper-shouted.
Remy brushed off his panic. V could faintly hear Patton trying to calm him down, but his gaze was focused on the glowing man by the fire. He looked so different, yet the same. His heart leapt into his throat as he heard him laugh particularly loudly at whatever his friend had said. He hadn’t heard that sound in years. His brown hair was perfectly styled he noticed, the fire giving his hazel eyes a urethral quality. He noted the crinkle by his eyes, the gentle curve of his nose, the cupid’s bow of his lips. His blissful moment was broken when he heard Remy call him over here.
“Hey Ro, get over here!” Remy yelled with a laugh. V watched helplessly from behind Pat’s shoulder as he and his friend walked around the firepit in his direction. He couldn’t stop shaking and his eyes were blown impossibly wide. His voice was nowhere to be found and his feet seemed glued to the ground. His protests died on his lips as Roman came over and hugged Remy.
“Took you long enough. You’re the one who forced me to come to this thing and you show up late?” Logan asked playfully.
“Well, we had to make an extra pit stop,” Remy said while he hugged Roman as well. It was then that Roman noticed the dark figure behind Patton. V turned away from him hiding behind his hair as Roman tried to meet his eyes.
“Who’s your friend?” he asked but received no answer. “C’mon I don’t bite…much,” he tried to joke.
V knew he had to face the music. There was no way out of this, God there was no way out of this. He let out a shaky exhale and stepped out from behind Patton. He painfully tore his gaze from the ground and looked at him through his bangs.
“…Hey there Princey,” he tried to smile.
…………………………………………………………………………..
The world stopped.
His confident stance faltered as his phone clattered to the ground. His heart stopped. Tears gathered in his eyes without his permission. His mind was running a mile a minute. Roman wasn’t sure if he was sad, angry, happy…he had been numb for so long, and he only seemed to realize that in this moment. Only one person had ever called him that, and he left years ago, along with whatever genuine happiness he had. He took in two sharp breaths before he attempted to speak.
“…V?” he whispered.
A few tears were flowing freely now. A sob threatening to come out of his throat. Roman looked on to see panic on his face as he began rambling.
“No, no, no, no, no don’t cry!” Patton and Remy watched as V’s carefully constructed walls tumbled down. Gone were his cold eyes and standoffish stance and attitude. His eyes were scared and panicked, as he held his hands up to try to placate the man in front of him. “Please, I knew I shouldn’t have come I’m so sorry I didn’t know you were gonna be here and-” but he was cut off by Roman’s hysterics. His hand was over his mouth trying to calm down before he was all over him.
“Oh, just shut up and get over here,” Ro laughed through tears as he jumped him.
V staggered forward as Roman pulled him into his arms and burried his head into his neck. V hesitantly wrapped his arms around his back and rested his nose on his shoulder, a tear rolled silently down his cheek.
“Where have you been, you emo nightmare?” He laughed, but didn’t move from his current position.
V couldn’t have smiled wider as a loud laugh tore out of his throat. The first genuine laugh he’d allowed himself in a while. They only held one another tighter.
“I was in…it was Florida,” he mumbled quietly.
Roman pulled back to look him in the eyes, a ghost of a smile graced his face. He looked at him like he wasn’t real. His thumb brushed a stray tear from V’s cheek as he studied his face. Gone was the 2007 emo haircut and makeup. His hair was cut and styled a little shorter, hiding under his beanie. A few pieces hung in front of those brown, dough eyes he missed so dearly. His features grew sharper, and he most definitely grew taller. Only an inch or two shorter than Roman himself. V blushed under his scrutiny.
“Look at this hair,” Roman laughed as he ran his hand through it, effectively removing the beanie and mussing it up.
“I like it.” V tried not to melt at the affectionate touch. Roman looked over all his features, and after a beat of silence, Roman spoke up again, “You grew up.”
“Hey, so did you,” V said with a wide smile. “You’re taller than me now, damnit. And look, you finally got a haircut that fits your face,” he finished with a laugh.
“You know me, I couldn’t endure another-”
“-sixth grade bowl-cut disaster,” they finished together laughing.
Their giggles died down and looked at each other, faces turning serious.
“Roman…” V wanted to explain. He wanted to explain what he couldn’t all those years ago.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Silence.
That’s all there was between them.
A heavy choked silence.
“…you’re moving…?” The way Roman’s voice cracked may as well have broken Virgil.
He wasn’t meant to see the text from his mom about the moving truck. V almost dropped the glass of water he was holding when Roman asked about it. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. Virgil just needed a little more time.
Virgil tried to speak. He tried to find the right thing to say, to explain himself, but the words wouldn’t come.
“How long have you known about this?” Shock punctuated each word, and again V floundered for what to say.
“I-..it-…a few months.”
A choked scoff was all Virgil got in response.
“Where?” Roman tried to appear indifferent, but his eyes gave him away.
Tears started to gather in V’s eyes. That was the one question he couldn’t answer. He couldn’t, he couldn’t, and that pained him more than anything.
“I-…Roman, I can’t tell you.” V looked at his friend desperate for understanding, but he was met with barely concealed outrage. Roman knew why Virgil couldn’t tell him but that didn’t stop the anger permeating through his entire being. If it weren’t for his  fucking parents. But that didn’t matter in Roman’s head right now. He was just beyond hurt…betrayed that Virgil would keep this from him for so long.
Then suddenly Roman realized something. Virgil was crying. Something he would never normally do, even in front of his best friend. Roman was mad that he was just finding out about this, sure, but Virgil wouldn’t be so panicked if it weren’t a big deal.
“Is it close? Will we still be in school together?” Roman tried to sound hopeful, but he was waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“It’s-…no Ro…it’s out of state.” The dam finally broke and silent tears began to fall.
Roman let out a humorless laugh, and his face turned cold. He felt like he’d just been kicked in the stomach, and Virgil wasn’t much better.
“When.” Roman was desperate for answers. His whole world, it seemed, was being taken away from him. The one person that he cared about the most, the one person who understood him the most, the person he loved the most was about to move away.
Tears were flowing freely down V’s face. He opened his mouth to speak but after a few failed attempts at getting the words out. He took a deep, shaky breath and spoke up in a quiet voice.
“Five days.”
Roman’s eyes flew wide.
“Days?! You’re moving away in five days and you didn’t think to tell me months ago? Why didn’t you tell me sooner? When were you even going to tell me?!”
Angry. He was angry.
Virgil’s tears continued to fall. His hands we balled into tight fists at his sides and his breathing was labored as he stared resolutely at the floor.
“I-I tried to-, I didn’t mean-…” He couldn’t even form a sentence. He was overwhelmed, on the verge of an attack, but he was trying to keep himself together. He had to explain.
“It’s the middle of the school year! We’re supposed to be graduating high school in four months together. We’re supposed to be getting ready for college together. Getting ready for the rest of their lives together. I thought that you and I-…I thought…” Roman’s voice broke and he shook his head.
“V I’m your best friend! At least I thought I was. What possessed you to tell me five days before you had to leave that I’m probably never going to see you again, because I don’t even know where the hell you’re going!?” Roman was borderline hysterical, but his anger was overriding his sadness. Virgil continued to look at the floor, tears blurring his vision.
A beat of silence passed and suddenly everything that had been going on recently made more sense. Why they hadn’t been able to hang out at his house, why V’s mom always gave Virgil looks when Roman talked about what they were planning to do this summer. All of it.
Roman finally broke the silence.
“I have to go.”
Virgil’s head snapped up at his words, but his feet wouldn’t move to stop him.
He wanted to tell him everything.
He wanted to scream at the top of his lungs how he had tried to tell him before but he just couldn’t bring himself to do so because it hurt so damned much. He wanted to tell him how much he wishes to spend as much time together as they can before he has to say goodbye. He wanted to tell him how much he was going to miss him. His laugh, his nicknames, his dramatics, his limitless kindness and wit, his unbelievable ability to calm and reassure him in his darkest moments. His ability to understand. He just wanted to tell him how much he loved him.
It was a lonely five days.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~>>>
“I’m sorry.”
Virgil’s mouth snapped shut, confused.
“Roman, what in God’s name are you-”
“ -you didn’t deserve my temper tantrum.” He paused taking in V’s face of confusion. “I shouldn’t have shut you out. I should have stayed. I should have talked it out with you. There’s so much I should have done differently. Instead, I let you go without a goodbye,” he trailed off quietly. A rueful smile could be seen on his face.
“Ro, if I had just told you sooner. None of that would’ve happened.” V turned his face away trying to stop the second barrage of tears threatening to fall.
Roman grabbed his chin with one hand and forced Virgil to look at him. Shock replaced his sadness and a bright blush spread across his cheeks.
“V, I don’t blame you for anything, no matter how much you think this is your fault. I’m just-…I’m so glad to have you back,” he finished with a huff of laughter. There were still tears in his eyes and the laugh was strained, but it was something Virgil didn’t know he needed to hear all this time.
Roman’s eyes slid down to his lips before coming back up to meet his eyes. V briefly wondered if he’d imagined that.
“…Virgil?”
He was asking permission and Virgil sure as hell wasn’t going to lose this chance while he had it. He leaned forward, his lips lightly brushing Roman’s, hesitating only a moment longer before Roman captured his lips in a gentle kiss. Roman put his hands on the sides of V’s face while Virgil’s hands tangled themselves in Roman’s hair. The kiss slowly became more passionate as Virgil pulled him even closer. The butterflies in Virgil’s stomach had him dizzy, but he was about to complain. Roman smiled through the kiss absolutely elated. He caressed Virgil’s cheeks like he was something beautiful, trying to make up for the years they lost.
They were breathing heavily when air forced them away from one another. They didn’t break eye contact. They stood shell shocked at what had just happened, both on cloud nine. Then Virgil started laughing.
“You don’t know how long I’ve thought about that,” he eventually got out.
Roman’s smile could have lit up an entire city block.
They hugged each other again, both sporting ridiculous grins before something caught V’s eye. He moved away slightly and ran his hand over the hoodie Roman was wearing.
“Wait, is this…is this my MCR hoodie?” he said with mock outrage.
Roman had the decency to allow a blush to appear on his cheeks as he decided to feign innocence.
“What, this? I haven’t the faintest idea as to what you’re talking about…” Virgil raised an eyebrow in amusement. His smug smile hid the part of him that absolutely melted because it’s been years since they’ve seen each other, and yet Roman is wearing his sweatshirt. He waited about 30 more seconds before Roman gave up the charade, Virgil’s grin never faltering.
“Hey, you’re the one who left it in my room. Finders keepers, my chemically imbalanced romance.” He shot him a sly look and stuck out his tongue for good measure.
V just stared at him. He was smiling so wide he could barely talk.
“God, I missed you.” He spoke with such conviction that Roman could feel the warmth spreading through him at his words.
Roman tugged him forward and they remained in a silent hug. That’s when Remy took his chance.
“Not that this isn’t incredibly adorable or anything,” he waited to continue as the two finally realized that they had an audience.
Virgil quickly stepped away to ease the blush on his face, but Roman yanked him back with a firm pull, tucking him securely against his side with an easy smile. This only caused his blush to worsen.
“I have a clarifying question,” Remy continued.
Virgil looked on in confusion at his inquiry.
“Roman, what did you say his name was?”
And just like that Virgil went from super relaxed to super panicked. Roman looked over at him in confusion before he quickly cut in.
“No, no, no. Don’t. Do not.” He tried to sound menacing, but the fear showed on his face. He was in no place to give orders.
He looked at Virg and then turned back to Remy as realization dawned on his face.
“You mean to tell me you don’t know his actual name?” he said with barely contained amusement.
“He’s a dark, brooding emo! How could you expect us to know such private information?” Remy was going for sarcasm, but there was a hint of underlying exasperation. Roman let out a loud laugh at that.
“Oh please, Virgil is the softest emo I’ve ever encountered in my life, and he’s only gotten softer,” he finished pulling him closer, pecking his cheek. V…no, Virgil groaned while trying to bury his face in his hands.
Remy let out a soft snort. “Vir-gil?” He tested the name on his tongue. Virgil looked at Roman, a pout in place.
“Oh my GOODNESS, I love it,” Patt said cutting in with an adoring squeal. 
Virgil was not amused.
He threw some choice words at his prince charming and just like that the two reunited friends began to bicker back and forth, settling back into their dynamic seamlessly.
“Okay, you sir, are coming with me,” Roman declared.
“Where exactly are you taking me? Looks like some Blair Witch Project woods back there,” V trailed off jokingly. Roman just looked at him with a fond, amused smile.
“There are marshmallows down there with your name on them.” V abruptly stopped walking and stared up into his eyes, looking more serious than he ever has in his life.
“Take me to them.”
Roman laughed and tugged him along. The three people who witnessed this entire exchange decided to hang back to give them some well-deserved catch up time. Just as Logan was about to ask Remy and Patton what the hell was going on, a very loud and very undignified yelp was heard from across the driveway.
“D-did you just taze me?” Virgil sounded shocked and every bit as embarrassed as one could imagine. Roman just stood there with a smug smile. V looked back and saw Remy and Pat looking back at him with barely contained amusement, before turning to Roman with determination.
“You do realize of course now I’m going to have to kill you,” he said matter-of-factly.
Roman ran towards the bonfire with a shout of, “You’ll have to catch me first, Gerrard Way!”
“You are NOT getting away from me this time!” He laughed as Virgil ran after him.
………………………………………………………………………
Later that week one would find the two at the top of a hill, sitting in their rusty old wagons. They looked positively ridiculous with their long legs hanging over the sides, but they couldn’t find it in their hearts to care.
“Okay, we’ve got a straight shot. Whoever gets down there first wins and gets to pick the movie for tonight.”
Virgil looked back at Roman, smirk in place.
“Bold of you to assume there’s a chance you’ll beat me, Brendon Urie.”
The two best friends sat in their wagons preparing to take off down the steep hill, both men confident as ever. After the shouted count, “3…2…1…,” off they went, laughter echoing in the crisp spring air.
  And there she is! I just now realized that idk if “taze” is a universal word for poking at someone’s side to tickle them or if that’s something only my friends and I say…but it’s all I got. Also I made them all from Pennsylvania? Yeah. It’s fine, Florida is mentioned in there. 
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed my first attempt at writing these cuties! Perhaps I’ll continue to do so in the future.
Thanks, you muffins!
~Laur
97 notes · View notes
80soleff · 6 years
Text
je t'aime, eddie: one
summary: “pardon my french, eddie spaghetti, but you’re the cutest fucking person i have ever seen.” aka, the foreign exchange fic.
word count: 1,282
pairings: reddie, side stenbrough, side benverly, lots of platonic kaspbrough
a/n: the pennywise incident still happened but in like 2014, this takes place in 2017!
1, 2, 3, 4
it was definitely an impulse decision, on his part. he could have said something else when asked what he wanted for christmas that year. something… normal. like a camera, or new art supplies.
but no. the words that came flying out of bill denbrough’s mouth were pretty peculiar. “a person.” he said, as his parents looked at him, confusion clear on their faces. who the hell asks for a person for christmas? well, not a person. a foreign exchange student.
it’s not something he’s thought of before, just something that came to his mind moments before the question was asked. he had the other losers of course, but things around his house got lonely after three years. three years of no georgie and three years of not knowing what to do with himself.
after explaining to them what he actually meant, his parents agreed. in fact, they thought it was a great idea. it would be a “good way for bill to have some exposure to another culture” as they said. he never really viewed it as that kind of opportunity, but he definitely wasn’t opposed to it.
so, gathered around bill’s laptop in the middle of the year, the denbroughs signed up to be a host family. it was a long process, background checks and orientations, signature after signature, but the day finally came where they would get to pick the person to live with them for the next year.
his name was eddie and he was from france. 16 years old, just like bill and the rest of the losers. the biography under his picture tells the story of his family and how he used to live in america until he was six. he spoke english pretty well, but he usually spoke french.
naturally, bill procrastinated so much that he didn’t tell the others that eddie was coming until the day was four days away.
the losers club sat around a bonfire in bill’s backyard, as they usually spent their summer saturdays. stan and bill were sitting on a bench, sharing earbuds and a thick blanket draped over their shoulders. ben and beverly were reading a book together, beverly’s hand holding the right page and ben’s holding the left. richie and mike were looking at something on mike’s phone and laughing.
bill was pretty sure stan knew he liked him. i mean, he has been pining after him ever since the summer before freshman year. he saw bev look up from her book and over at the two of them. she gave bill a knowing smile and went back to reading. beverly was the only one who knew about bills crush on stan, but she found out by accident. it’s actually a really funny story.
beverly was coming over and bill’s hands were shaking. when he told all of the losers his parents would be gone for the weekend, she had asked to come over. mike told him that was code for “dude, she totally wants to make out!” but how were you supposed to make out with a girl? surely it can’t be that hard. he heard a knock at the to snap him out of his worried thoughts.
he practically ran down the stairs and opened the door. “hey b-b-bev.” his stutter came out more than he would have liked it to.
“hey bill! can i come in?” she asked him through a smile.
“y-yeah. i m-mean, yeah.” beverly took off her boots and they walked up to his room.
“i’m not sure if we all tell you enough bill, but you’re an amazing artist.” walking around bill’s room, she ran her fingers over the drawings and doodles hanging on the wall.
“thanks, i t-try.” he said in a nervous tone. beverly then walked over to him and got pretty close. she glanced down at his lips a few times and so did he. she started moving in. oh my god. oh my god. this is it.
one innocent kiss progressed into making out pretty quickly. they were nearing bill’s bed until he disconnected their lips.
“holy shit.”
beverly laughed at his words. “you okay there, denbrough?”
“i’m gay.”
she started jumping up and down in the air and cheering. “oh my god, i knew it! richie totally owes me twenty dollars!” he stared at her in disbelief, watching her celebrate in the middle of his bedroom floor. “kidding, kidding.” she raised her arms in defense.
“w-wait, you knew? h-how…” bill trailed off and sat down on his bed, shock evident on his face.
“bill, you look at stan like he hung the stars. i think we all know. except stan, he’s sooo oblivious.” he slowly processed the information he was given. who couldn’t look at stan like that, he’s gorgeous. was it really that obvious? he always thought the secret glances he stole at stan were when no one else was paying attention. bill just nodded his head in response and beverly came over to engulf him in a hug.
“it’s okay, i think i’m the only one who noticed. i won’t tell, swear.” she extended her pinky out toward bill and he intertwined his with her own.
he came out to the losers at the quarry the next day. he didn’t expect anything but support, but he was still scared. they all shared a big group hug and to say his attention stayed on stan the whole time definitely wasn’t a lie.
smiling at the memory, he watched as mike and ben added various twigs and logs to the growing fire. he really hoped eddie wasn’t homophobic or anything like that.
“guys, i h-have something t-to tell y-you.” everyone shifted their attention to bill.
“what is it, bill?” stan said, nervousness evident in his voice.
“n-no, it’s nothing b-bad.” richie raises his eyebrows, waiting for him to say something. “w-well, basically, i h-have a foreign e-exchange student c-coming to live with us in f-f-four days.”
“four days?! bill, why didn’t you tell us? that’s crazy, man! i mean, how are we gonna understand this fucking kid?” richie looked at bill with shock in his eyes, as did the other losers.
“he s-speaks english, d-dumbass.”
“four days? wow… where is he from? how old is he?” mike asked inquisitively.
“f-france. he used to l-live here when he was l-little but he m-m-moved away. he’s sixteen.” stan has the slightest bit of anger in his voice.
“he’s gonna live here? with you?” bill laughed at him.
“where e-else would he live?” he only huffed in response.
“ooo, eddie? you know me, i love a good french boy.” richie was openly bisexual and proud.
“beep beep, richie!” they all said in unison. “do you have a picture, bill?” beverly asked and bill took his phone out.
“we’ve been t-texting. he seems r-really nice.”
on the screen, richie saw what he thought was the best sight he would ever see. it was a picture of eddie standing in front of the eiffel with a big smile on his face. “hm. very frenchy.” ben said and they laughed at him.
“he’s an adorable frenchy.” beverly said looking at the picture.
“adorable? he’s a smokin’ frenchy.” richie trailed off into the summer night.
“say “frenchy” one more time and i’m-”
“m-my mom talked to h-his mom on the phone. she’s c-c-crazy. he has to t-take like, a j-j-jillion pills a day.” bill told all of them.
“what’s wrong with him? he looks mighty fine to me.” richie said with a smirk plastered to his face. stan elbowed him in the side.
“i th-think he has asthma. not s-sure what the o-others are f-for.” richie looked at the picture again.
“oh, eddie spaghetti, i’m gonna have so much fun with you.”
special thanks to @roses-for-reddie because she’s such a hypeman. should i continue this fic? send me an ask and tell me what you thought!
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captainsconsort · 6 years
Photo
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Ok I’m going to try to calm down and write down the events of the day in order.
We saw our first Takarazuka show this trip today, Land of the Gods. It was good. I forgot to even read the English summary so I was a little vague on the plot and characters but the basics were self-explanatory. Most of all it was a visually stunning show so a great one to see live. I especially liked the realistic fireplaces and bonfires glowing and smoking. There was also a suitably desolate snowy backdrop and great use of the grand stairs. The costumes were unusually good too. Maakun did a good job though she shines much more in something like Top Hat. Her acting or singing doesn’t really wow me though it’s adequate and she looked good in her uniform. The romantic scenes and kisses and dancing with the very elegant Reimi Urara were great! Yurika got plenty of stage time and opportunity to look cool though she didn’t get a story of her own so we never got to know her character. Aichan didn’t really get to do much acting as Rasputin. The character was pretty much the supposedly funny revue bum dressed in a heap of rags, only with an added touch of Lucheni. Susshii was magnificent as the empress.
The revue was the best non-nihonmono revue I’ve seen live (though I’ve only seen Greatest Hits and Phoenix Takarazuka). There was perhaps a bit too much of the cheery singalong in silver costumes but the set itself was tastefully sparkly. Tasteful might be the wrong word but Vegas extravagant, not just cheesy. They recycled the oriental-style blue jumpsuits from the great dance Maakun fronted in Phoenix Takarazuka. There was also a homoerotic top-nibante duedan in sparkly velvet jumpsuits that resembled the ChigiDaimon one a lot, only with dynamic otokoyaku background dancing and fire. And a great ominous scene in grey suits and a striking red sequin dress. And a really damn great kuroenbi with the glitter on the stairs (as a projected starry sky) instead of on the suits. It was just as bombastic and militaristic as I like it. Dancing is really what Maakun does best. The troupe has no really great singers but they all do ok.
Oh and there were still toujitsuken left for the evening show after the morning queue was gone. And an acquaintance has some extra B seki for next Thursday when we’re in Osaka so let me know if you’re interested and I’ll get you in touch.
Ok, now for the flailing and screaming. We spontaneously went to Bunkamura and bought tickets for the opening of Checkov’s The Cherry Orchard because Nonchan plays a minor part. (We were going to see it but not necessarily today.) Hard to tell without the language but it seemed to be the original play though they renamed it something. Turns out Nonchan played the governess. It was almost a pantomime part making great use of her skills. She got to do a lot of silent acting in the background while others talked so I just stared at her through my opera glasses and ignored the plot. I don’t think she even spoke to the other characters but she acted so much with her body and had some small monologues and even a little singing and dancing. She looked a bit like a pantomime artist in a striped shirt and beret and heavy makeup. She has A Face. None of the others did. It was like she was in a different play. Both because her character was cut off from the rest and didn’t really care about their troubles, just amused them and herself, and because her acting and stage presence were on an entirely different level.
They had a poor live goat fettered on stage for the entire second act and that poor animal was the best thing about the play besides Non. It was a very well-mannered, expressive and picturesque goat. Non kept petting it as she passed by (there was a lot of passing by, crossing the stage, moving the sets etc). She even ran to the back of the stage and petted it in the curtain call. She also danced to the band in the curtain call. There was live music in the play and I feared it would be country but it was more like klezmer so the music at least was good.
Then aaah! We quickly wrote a card to her and decided to wait by the stage door to hand it over personally if possible. We didn’t have any luck waiting by the stage door at Orchard Hall after the Elisabeth Gala in January. Apparently the big names left by car or some other way. The smaller Theatre Cocoon had a separate stage door though and there was a little crowd there so we joined it. We weren’t dressed for it and it was rather windy. Some gave up and left after a while. We only saw one guy actually meeting the actor he wanted.
After about an hour we decided to give up and give the card to the guard inside the stage door. We joked that we would bump into Non right inside the door. Then we did. Well almost. The guard was about to make a phone call about the card and just then Non passed by and @siridealphosphorus had the wits to stop her as I snatched the card back from the surprised guard and gave it to her directly. So we got to talk to her inside in the warmth.
She was so nice! In fact she was exactly what I thought she would be but didn’t dare hope. She asked where we were from and when we said Sweden she said oh you wrote me a letter! She just chatted on amiably in Japanese about being happily surprised she had fans in Sweden, asking if we did live there and not in fact in Japan, when we got to Japan this time etc. She did slow down when we just nodded and grinned like morons and switched to shorter, simpler questions and then even to English, which she apparently speaks. She asked where we stayed and if we’d get back ok or miss the last train. She said of course we could take pictures with her (inside in the light instead of outside in the dark too!) so we got treasssssure! Then we went the same way a little bit and she waved as she crossed the street. Damn what a day. What a day.
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santiagostyle · 7 years
Note
1-150 ;)
I definitely didn’t scroll 3 months back in my archive just to find this ask so I could make a point but anyway LET’S DO DIS
1. Who was the last person you held hands with?
Good question lol probably my brother???
2. Are you outgoing or shy?
Both depending on the circumstances - usually outgoing if I’m with friends and shy if I’m by myself
3. Who are you looking forward to seeing?
My best friend from uni (who doesn’t go to my uni anymore), I’m going to a concert w her this weekend I’m supes excited
4. Are you easy to get along with?
Yes I’m a damn delight
5. If you were drunk would the person you like take care of you?
I mean ?? Yes probably but I wouldn’t ever be in a situation where they would be the only person there to look after me. Like my friends would be there first and foremost
6. What kind of people are you attracted to?
UGH people that make me laugh
7. Do you think you’ll be in a relationship two months from now?
Probably not
8. Who from the opposite gender is on your mind?
tbh my theatre lecturer bc i have class in half an hour and haven’t done the reading
9. Does talking about sex make you uncomfortable?
Depends on 1. who i’m talking to and 2. the context in which we’re talking about it but usually no
10. Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with?
probably my best pal from uni
11. What does the most recent text that you sent say?
“Yeah I got some”
12. What are your 5 favorite songs right now?
Four Jews in a Room Bitching - Cast of March of the Falsettos
My Boo (triple j Like a Version) - Flume, Vince Staples, Kučka, Ngaiire, Vera Blue
I Have Confidence - Julie Andrews
Rude Judas (mashup) - Rihanna vs Lady Gaga
Romeo (Bassline remix) - Basement Jaxx
13. Do you like it when people play with your hair?
YeS
14. Do you believe in luck and miracles?
Yes
15. What good thing happened this summer?
I went overseas (although technically that was during Aus winter but it was summer in the US where I was???)
16. Would you kiss the last person you kissed again?
Yes
17. Do you think there is life on other planets?
Probably?? I try not to think about it
18. Do you still talk to your first crush?
Hahahah not unless I see him in person
19. Do you like bubble baths?
Yes
20. Do you like your neighbors?
No unfortunately 
21. What are you bad habits?
I bite my nails and I fidget constantly
22. Where would you like to travel?
Europe!!!!
23. Do you have trust issues?
Y E S
24. Favorite part of your daily routine?
taking my bra off lmao omg
25. What part of your body are you most uncomfortable with?
?????? idk all of it
26. What do you do when you wake up?
Snooze my alarm tbh
27. Do you wish your skin was lighter or darker?
I mean neither but I wish I could tan instead of getting sunburnt
28. Who are you most comfortable around?
my uni friends and my best friend from high school
29. Have any of your ex’s told you they regret breaking up?
I mean not in those exact words
30. Do you ever want to get married?
I mean hopefully yes
31. If your hair long enough for a pony tail?
Yes
32. Which celebrities would you have a threesome with?
Melissa Fumero and Andy Samberg but like only if their spouses were cool with it
33. Spell your name with your chin.
I am,,,, not going to do that 
34. Do you play sports? What sports?
I dance and I do yoga
35. Would you rather live without TV or music?
GOD NEITHER like I listen to music 24/7 but…. brooklyn 99
36. Have you ever liked someone and never told them?
Yes many times tbh
37. What do you say during awkward silences?
Hahaha nothing I’m the worst
38. Describe your dream girl/guy?
two words: Melissa Fumero
39. What are your favorite stores to shop in?
I really like H&M
40. What do you want to do after high school?
Plot twist I’m a uni student (I’m studying theatre, film, and english literature)
41. Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance?
depends on what they did
42. If you’re being extremely quiet what does it mean?
I’m either really like upset/mad or really tired
43. Do you smile at strangers?
I try to most of the time
44. Trip to outer space or bottom of the ocean?
Bottom of the ocean but also fuck that
45. What makes you get out of bed in the morning?
My alarm???? Fam I got class to get to
46. What are you paranoid about?
Literally everything this is a dumb question
47. Have you ever been high?
Nope
48. Have you ever been drunk?
yes many times
49. Have you done anything recently that you hope nobody finds out about?
not that i can think of thankfully
50. What was the colour of the last hoodie you wore?
Grey
51. Ever wished you were someone else?
I regularly wish I was Melissa Fumero does that count
52. One thing you wish you could change about yourself?
I wish I could sing tbh
53. Favourite makeup brand?
probably Too Faced
54. Favourite store?
Was there not an identical question not long ago
55. Favourite blog?
tbh probably @elsaclack but @johnnydora is i mean not terrible
56. Favourite colour?
probably purple 
57. Favourite food? 
BURRITOS
58. Last thing you ate?
a ham and cheese toasties
59. First thing you ate this morning?
…. the ham and cheese toastie
60. Ever won a competition? For what?
ACTUALLY YES I once one a competition to go to a cinema and see a performance of of Iolanta and The Nutcracker (but the nutcracker was a super weird absurd version) 
61. Been suspended/expelled? For what?
Neither
62. Been arrested? For what?
Nope
63. Ever been in love? 
Tbh probably not
64. Tell us the story of your first kiss?
HAHAHA wow I was drunk at a party and the guy who like low key tried to ruin my life a few years beforehand 
65. Are you hungry right now?
always
66. Do you like your tumblr friends more than your real friends?
i mean tbh i like them equally as much
67. Facebook or Twitter?
facebook
68. Twitter or Tumblr?
tumblr
69. Are you watching tv right now?
no lol I’m in class
70. Names of your bestfriends? 
Macy Temiqua Sandra Megan and like. a lot more
71. Craving something? What?
SURPRISINGLY nothing atm
72. What colour are your towels?
tbh depends on the day mostly purple
72. How many pillows do you sleep with?
3
73. Do you sleep with stuffed animals?
nope
74. How many stuffed animals do you think you have?
probably like 7
75. Favourite animal?
meerkats
76. What colour is your underwear?
black
77. Chocolate or Vanilla?
chocolate
78. Favourite ice cream flavour?
cookies and cream
79. What colour shirt are you wearing?
purple
80. What colour pants?
black
81. Favourite tv show?
is this really a question
82. Favourite movie?
Cruel Intentions
83. Mean Girls or Mean Girls 2?
The OG
84. Mean Girls or 21 Jump Street?
Mean Girls
85. Favourite character from Mean Girls?
Ms Norbury
86. Favourite character from Finding Nemo?
Dory
87. First person you talked to today?
@johnnydora
88. Last person you talked to today?
uni pals
89. Name a person you hate?
donald trump
90. Name a person you love?
baby samberg
91. Is there anyone you want to punch in the face right now?
see question 90
92. In a fight with someone?
not atm
93. How many sweatpants do you have?
too many tbh
94. How many sweaters/hoodies do you have?
also too many
95. Last movie you watched?
I honestly don’t remember but probably One of the Greats if that counts as a movie??
96. Favourite actress?
duh Melissa Fumero (but also Sarah Michelle Gellar is fantastic)
97. Favourite actor?
these are stupid questions ok the answer is Andy Samberg but i also love Robert Downey Jr
98. Do you tan a lot?
No
99. Have any pets?
negative
100. How are you feeling?
TIRED AF i was up until 11:30 last night doing an assignment
101. Do you type fast?
yes
102. Do you regret anything from your past?
not really i don’t think
103. Can you spell well?
you bet your ass I can
104. Do you miss anyone from your past?
Yeah I do
105. Ever been to a bonfire party?
Negative
106. Ever broken someone’s heart?
I hope not???
107. Have you ever been on a horse?
No I don’t think so
108. What should you be doing?
taking notes looooool
109. Is something irritating you right now?
not RIGHT now????
110. Have you ever liked someone so much it hurt?
yes sigh
111. Do you have trust issues?
yes
112. Who was the last person you cried in front of?
I very rarely cry in front of people (I very rarely cry full stop) but I think it was my dance teacher
113. What was your childhood nickname?
my parents usually called me Emma Jade
114. Have you ever been out of your province/state?
yessss
115. Do you play the Wii?
we have one but don’t use it haha
116. Are you listening to music right now?
nope
117. Do you like chicken noodle soup?
I do not think so hahaha
118. Do you like Chinese food?
yes give it to me
119. Favourite book?
To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee
The A to Z of You and Me - James Hannah
The Unbearable Lightness of Being - Milan Kundera
120. Are you afraid of the dark?
yes
121. Are you mean?
I hope not
122. Is cheating ever okay?
no
123. Can you keep white shoes clean?
lol no
124. Do you believe in love at first sight?
Not love at first sight, maybe infatuation
125. Do you believe in true love?
yeah i guess so
126. Are you currently bored?
a little
127. What makes you happy?
Brooklyn 99; my friends; anything having to do with theatre, film, or literature
128. Would you change your name?
No i don’t think so
129. What your zodiac sign?
Gemini
130. Do you like subway?
yessssss
131. Your bestfriend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do?
I don’t really have a best friend of the opposite sex but like depending who it was I would either be v happy or a bit weirded out
132. Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with?
my best friend from uni
133. Favourite lyrics right now?
I’m gonna be free and I’m gonna be fine (maybe not tonight)
134. Can you count to one million?
god no
135. Dumbest lie you ever told?
I told someone I was out with my parents bc I didn’t want to answer the phone haha
136. Do you sleep with your doors open or closed?
Closed
137. How tall are you?
5′6″
138. Curly or Straight hair?
??? I have ?? wavy hair
139. Brunette or Blonde?
Brunette
140. Summer or Winter?
Both for different reasons
141. Night or Day?
Both but probably night
142. Favourite month?
June or October or December
143. Are you a vegetarian?
Nope
144. Dark, milk or white chocolate?
milk
145. Tea or Coffee?
coffee
146. Was today a good day?
so far yes
147. Mars or Snickers?
Mars
148. What’s your favourite quote?
“Everyone who terrifies you is sixty-five percent water. And everyone you love is made of stardust, and I know sometimes you cannot even breathe deeply, and the night sky is no home, and you have cried yourself to sleep enough times that you are down to your last two percent; but nothing is infinite, not even loss. You are made of the sea and the stars, and one day you are going to find yourself again.”
149. Do you believe in ghosts?
Yes
150. Get the closest book next to you, open it to page 42, what’s the first line on that page?
“Speaking personally, David, I want to tell you you have all my sympathy. Really. These things can be hell.”
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rosieandthekangaroo · 7 years
Text
Bruno’s farewell
I am making this post entirely in English because, as the title indicates, it is about Bruno’s farewell and, although he is French and knows how to speak Spanish, we communicate mainly in English and, given that there’s a slight chance he will read it, I’ll do it in English. 
So, as said, this is about Bruno’s farewell. You might remember him from other posts like the times I go to castells, dantza, Bondi library, parties, and when we went to the korrika! (Oh no, he didn’t come to this last one.) So now you’ll be thinking “wow, he is in so many posts!”. Well yes, he is an important person in my life and we share quite some activities. 
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See, we get along very well.
I am scared that he leaves and he’ll be fucking missed. Buuuuuut this post is about his fun farewell weekend, so I am keeping my sentimental thoughts and words about Bruno for one of my next posts, fully dedicated to my Beautiful Bondi Beach Boys Beñat and Bruno (aka BBBBBB or BnB for short), because, although sharing is scary, sharing is also caring and I do care about them, a lot, so I feel like sharing why. Also they are forcing me to write about them.
We started the weekend waking up way too early to play some paintball next to Newcastle. They gave us all the gear:  really professional, very smelly and extremely hot.
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We gave Bruno a unicorn onesie to be able to easily identify him.
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We got divided by teams and the best one was mine (purple):
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I swear I am in this picture, but right now I don’t know who I am. We know who Bruno is, and that’s what’s matters.
The game was stressful and painful but so much fun. Some of us got head shots and that was scary. I am not a fan of guns. Not et al.
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After the games we went back to Newcastle where we got divided into rooms in a youth hostel, and got ready to go out. 
Some of us went to get dinner at a kind of festival next to the sea. There were food trucks, live music and people sitting and enjoying the night. 
Since it was “nit de Sant Joan” we had a mini lighter bonfire:
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Not the real thing, but we had fun.
Later we went to a pub where we had some drinks, and the rest of the people (who hadn’t eaten before) ate. We also took some pictures.
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This shots are pure art.
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After that we went to a club and daaaaanced a looooot. 
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Then the club closed so we went to another one and daaaaanced moooooore.
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And then this other club closed so, after some Newcastle night adventures, we got to the hostal and slept.
I was in the “castellers room”, where most of the people from human towers slept. Or tried to. Apparently we are super fans of alarm clocks.
The next morning (today) we went for breakfast at a cool place in front of the beach. 
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They did one of those things where they make coffee look fancy and you feel bad for destroying it.
The day was beautiful and the temperature was perfect, so we went for a walk along the coast.
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We walked to the lighthouse where we stared at the sea for a long time (which is my favorite activity when hangover) and we even saw some whales!!!
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Oh, and mate, of course! Coti was there, so mate was there.
Bruno is leaving and things will change for him and for us. But like Coti and her mate that follows her everywhere she goes, I feel like Bruno is always going to be a very (and my favorite) weird douchebag and I believe that everywhere he goes he is going to have a massive group of friends he is going to bring laughter to. Seriously, this farewell was massive, I wish I had so many friends. I think you have to be very cool to have so many friends.
But as I said, I am not going to get all sentimental here so bye.
Thanks to the people who made this awesome weekend possible. Seriously, this was cool.
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cal-puddies · 7 years
Text
i wish i was || luke hemmings
You carefully slipped out of bed and Luke’s grasp; he was clinging so tightly he might leave bruises, and made your way to the kitchen to make yourself some tea.
You watched the rain hit the window pane and heard the soft sounds of Luke’s feet coming down your hallway.
“You're up early.” He whispers, kissing the top of your head and making his own cup of tea.
“I have things I need to do today.” you mention.
“Thought we were staying in?” he took the seat next to you, but turned to face you.
“I know i said that, but you know that just because you’re home, doesn’t mean I can drop everything and just spend a day in bed with you...” you state, matter of factly.
Luke looks hurt. “I know babe. I just thought we’d get the chance to spend some time together.”
“Well, it won’t be this morning.” you shrug.
The last thing you wanted was to hurt Luke, but you didn’t really have a choice. He couldn’t be in love with you. Well he could, but it wouldn’t be in his best interest. You knew that you’d never feel that way about him. So you’d decided to be cold to him.
At least until you could get the nerve up to tell him to leave.
Luke does his best to be understanding, he's wrapped in a blanket on the couch, watching as you pull your shoes on. “How long you gonna be gone?” He asks quietly.
“I dunno Luke. Probably a couple hours.” You shrug, standing upright after slipping on your shoes. “I have to drop a paper off at school, and go grocery shopping and there are things I need around here…” you ramble.
“Could I come with you?” He asks weakly. He looks lost and he's not expecting you to agree. You're ready to go and he's still in his tshirt and boxer briefs.
And you know he's got flashbacks of last night playing in his head. The ones where he came in and you couldn't get enough of him. You were all over him and he couldn't give you more than he had and you wanted it all. And now you were cold, uncaring.
You stop for a second, thinking about all the outcomes of him coming and finally nod your head. You watch Luke’s face raise in surprise and he quickly gets off the couch and heads to the bedroom to get ready.
You wander around to the mantle in your living room, you didn't spend a lot of time in here because the kitchen table is where you finish up work and homework and you're usually too tired to spend any time in the living room.
You stare at the few photos you have up there, two of you with Luke, one of you with a group and Luke and one of your mom and brother.
You pulled down a photo of you and Luke. It'd been taken about a year ago, early on in the relationship. You'd barely started dating and you guys were at a bonfire at the beach together. You were sat on a log, the two of you had a leg on either side of it and you were fitted against Luke between his legs. He had an arm around your shoulders and that cute smile where his tongue is stuck through his teeth. His eyes are so bright and he looks so happy. It's been awhile since you'd seen him look that happy.
If you were honest with yourself, It wasn't that you and Luke had problems, and you should be ecstatic that he is possibly falling for you. But you found it really easy to disconnect yourself from someone who was always so far away. And you didn't know how to undo it. So you figured it’d be easier to let go than to try.
“Whatcha got there?” Luke asked, coming up behind you.
“Just an old photo of us.” You shrug, one of his hands lands on your hip, the other gently grabs the photo frame from you.
“Oh wow… This was really early.” He stares at it. “We were so happy.” He whispers.
“That we were… everything was new.” You agree. You watch Luke stare at the photo in his hand. You watched his eyes take in the photo. “It's one of my favorites of us. We had so much potential.” You whisper.
“Had…” he whispered. He looked up, “you don't think we have a future anymore.” He stated. He looked sad. Like really fucking sad. “Can I ask why?” He set the frame back on the mantle.
“I don't want to do this right now.” You whisper.
“Well it's fucking started so we might as well finish it.” He seethes.
You look up at him. He's obviously hurt, and angry. And he should be. You can't fault his feelings.
You sigh. “It's not you Luke…”
“Don't you dare fucking say it's you.” He retorts harsh, but quiet.
You take a deep breath and let it out slowly and carefully choose your words. “It was easy to detach myself with you so far away for most of the year…  and even when you are here you aren't always “here”... so instead of opening up and making myself vulnerable to you, I… shut down. It's what I do when I don't think the person can handle me.” You shrug and stare at your feet. It's the most honest exchange you've had with Luke in probably 8 months.
When you finally look back up at Luke, he's looking back at you and he's not as mad as you were expecting. But he looks defeated.
“I can't argue with that.” He sighs. “But I don't want to give up either.”
The two of you stand in silence for awhile. “I still have to run errands.” You whisper. “You can still come.” You offer.
“I'm definitely going to come.” He says. “I told you, I don't want to give up. So I'm gonna find a way to show you that we can do this.”
“Luke… no one's ever been able to change me when I've gotten like this.” You admit.
“Well, I'm not no one and I can't just give up.” He's defiant. He makes his way to the door and he turns to indicate he’s waiting on you.
You blink a couple times but head out the door with him.
Luke fiddles with the radio, he hums along for awhile but then gets overly into it in a desperate attempt to get you smiling. The tension in the car is just too much. But it dissipates as Luke keeps you laughing.
And then things are ok.
Luke puts in a clear effort to keep you, make you happy. He takes you out with his friends, drags you around town and has you out on tour, just to show you he definitely still wants you. He took you home to meet his parents.
It was a very overwhelming 4 months and it made you realize his lifestyle really wasn't for you, and you could tell he was itching to say “I love you.” And you couldn't be sure, but you didn't know if you'd say it back. Of course you have feelings for Luke. It's been almost a year and a half together and you've tried to be open with him, and you didn't want to see the hurt on his face again.
But you couldn't deny the feeling that you weren't right for him. Luke was coming home from tour in a couple days and you knew you needed to sit him down and just have it out, let him down before it gets worse.
If you were smart you'd never let him cross the threshold, because you knew Luke, he'd use his pretty blue eyes and long eyelashes, and his golden curls and his perfect lips to talk you into bed and you'd lose all resolve. It would be at least the sixth time in a year and a half that Luke had been able to change your mind about breaking up. And he never even knew it.
And it wasn't fair to him, because he's putting his all into you and you're just kind of coasting at this point. Hoping he doesn't say “I love you” or want more commitment.
Your phone rings and you drop your pencil, you were in the middle of homework and got lost on the Luke train, which happens often.
“Hello.” You pick up without looking.
“Hey babe. I don't have a lot of time, just wanted to say I miss you!” Luke sang.
“Hey Luke, I miss ya too buddy.”
“You feeling ok… buddy?” He laughs.
“Yeah, sorry. Just working on homework.”
“Gotcha, well I just wanted to say I missed you and I can't wait to come home and see you. But I'll let ya go.”
“Ok, bye Luke, see ya when you get home.”
“Bye love.”
You cringe as you hang up the phone. It's gone too far… way too far.
When Luke comes by you're sat on the couch, reading a book for English. He lets himself in and flops on the couch next to you. His smile is so big as he pulls the book from your hands.
“I'm really happy to see you beautiful.” He says, pulling you into his lap.
“It's good to see you too bub.” You sigh, because he's already won and he didn't even know what he was fighting for. His blue eyes were shining, pink lips turned up into a cute grin, his long golden hair was a mess but it suited him.
“Come cuddle with me?” He asked, a cute yawn  followed. He stood up and held tight to your hand, pulling you back toward your bedroom.
Luke falls back on your bed and pulls you tight against him, soon his hands are pulling clothes off and within the hour your naked and under the covers with him.
And you've somehow found your resolve. And against your better judgment, you open your mouth.
“Luke… we need to talk.” You say quietly, flipping on your side and propping your head up in your hand.
He turns on his side to face you, tucking his arm under the pillow and resting his head on it. “What's up babe?”
“I think you know what I'm gonna say, Luke. You can't tell me you haven't noticed that I haven't quite been myself lately.”
His brows furrowed, and the mood in the room changed drastically. He laid there quietly, staring at you, waiting for you to elaborate. “What are you saying babe.”
“I've tried Luke. I've tried really hard. But… you, you're falling in love. You're days from uttering I love you and I won't say it back… and I don't want to put you through that.”
“Why wouldn't you say it back?” He asked, reaching his free hand out to your free one, and you pull it away.
“Because I don't feel it. I love you Luke, I do. I'm just not in love with you. Don't tell me you're surprised.” You half huff, half sigh. “I mean, fuck Luke. There's an amazing girl out there who's ready to give you everything, and it's not gonna be me. It'll never be me. But I wish it was Luke. If I could love you like that…”
“I mean…” he hmms. “I just don't… how can you say that?” His voice cracks, “What do you mean you don't feel this? Is there someone else?” He's getting worked up, he sits up in the bed. “I don't understand. Things have been good, they've been really good. I've been happy, you've been happy… I thought you were happy.” He sighs, and there's tears welling in his beautiful eyes. “I mean we just… I made love to you…” he whispers.
“That's it Luke.” You sit up. “That's it right there. It was sex to me.” You sigh. “There's no one else Luke, I couldn't do that to you. And I tried, but I warned you. And I don't want to keep dragging you along because you win me over with your eyes and your lips. That's not enough for you to stay with me. I'll never be where you are. I just don't want you to wait on me.”
“But I want to wait on you.” It's desperate and pained as it leaves his throat, as the tears streak their way down his face. “Haven't I made you happy?”
“Of course you have. I'd say I've been happier with you than I ever have been. But that's not a reason to stay.”
“Isn't it? If I've made you happier than anyone, then why shouldn't you stay?” Luke sobs and it makes you cringe. “You could love me, I know you could. You aren't as tough as you pretend.” He sighs. “You need more time… I need more time to show you. We’ll be so happy.”
“I can't let you settle for me, Luke. You can do better.” And now your tears have started, this really was harder than you'd expected. “Maybe we could be happy, but someone else will make you happier than I ever could. I want that for you. I want you to find that.” You explain, exasperated at your own emotions and tears streaming down your face as well.
“Please don't do this. Please babe.” He whimpers.
“Someone is gonna love you so much and with all of their being that you'll forget about me, Luke. I promise.”
He's crying, hard and all you want is to comfort him, so you pull him in, pushing your fingers into his hair, rubbing at his scalp trying to soothe him. “You still care about me.” He whimpers.
“I'll never stop caring about you bub. You've opened my eyes to what a good relationship should be. I'll never forget that.” You whisper, kissing the side of his head. “I just don't want to waste your time anymore, I don't deserve the effort you're putting in. You deserve someone who can love you.”
Things are quiet for awhile. Both of you are working to compose yourselves. Luke’s clinging tightly to you and you can still feel the tears rolling down his face and landing on you.
He sits up, pulling away from you, and looks you right in the eyes, “I do love you, and I think you love me too, and you're scared. You're gonna wake up one day and realize that, and realize that you want me, and that of course I loved you and you deserved it. I don't know why you don't feel worthy of love, but I've never wanted to give it to someone as much as I want to give it to you.”
“Then I'm the idiot Luke, not you. I hear you, I see the effort you're putting in, but it's not reaching me. And maybe… I am scared, but I don't want you to hang around until I figure it out because what if I never do, bub? What if you just waste years on me?” You sob, and take a minute to breathe. “If I wake up one day and I want you and I realize I love you, you'll be the first to know. But… I just… I can't keep doing this Luke. I don't want to break your heart. That's why I wanted to break up 4 months ago but you talked me out of it. I… gave you the chance, and I've tried and put the effort in and I still just… don't feel it.” You let out a whimper. “I want to love you Luke, nothing would make me happier, but I can't pretend. This isn't a fake it till you make it situation. That wouldn't be fair to you.”
Luke pulls you into him now, both of you have started crying again. “I just need more time, give me more time… I can show you.” He's rocking you against him, and you can tell it was his last attempt to persuade you, it's sad and defeated, barely a whisper but you can hear all of the pain behind it. You can practically hear his heart shatter.
And it breaks you. This is exactly what you wanted to avoid. “Luke…” you whimper.
“I know. I haven't changed your mind. Just let me hold you for tonight, ok? I'm not ready to let go yet.” He's oddly calm, but clinging tightly to your body. He lays you guys back and you cling just as tightly to him. You're gonna miss him too.
You fell asleep holding each other with the understanding that tomorrow he'd be gone.
And when tomorrow comes, Luke silently gathers his things, he intentionally leaves a t shirt that you loved to wear and a pair of his athletic shorts, the necklace that he'd given you. He doesn't bother to ask for the shirt of his that you're wearing because he couldn't stand to see you take it off.
You walk him to the door and he pulls you in for a hug. “I love you.” He whispers.
“It's for the best Luke.” You whisper back, pulling out of the hug to look him in the eyes.
“I know you think so.” He opens the door and lets himself out.
You retreat back to the bedroom, shutting the door and pulling the blanket over your head after silencing your phone. It was only a matter of time before his friends knew and would start calling and texting. You couldn't deal with it right now, because your heart was subtly breaking.
Luke spends two hours in his car outside your building trying to compose himself. He's in a lot of pain and eventually he calls Ash to pick him up because he just can't get it together, his heart is indeed broken.
masterlist ||
i wish i was pt 2
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thekelseyproject · 7 years
Text
8.1 Monday Night
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I can’t do this,” I whimpered to the mirror as every single blemish and imperfection flashed like angry neon signs. I mean, had he ever actually looked at me? It didn’t seem like someone with functional eyesight could look past all of…this.
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I turned and stared forlornly at the pile of clothes on my bed. Matt had taken it upon himself to plan our date tonight, but he was being infuriatingly mysterious about his plans, no matter how beggy my texts had become. Should I dress up? Dress down? Were we actually going to walk on the beach, and should I wear a wrap? Was he serious about the spaghetti? Because I didn’t want to wear my favorite white blouse if he was and then drop the inevitable meatball onto my chest. Where were we going?!
I finally settled on a sort of business-casual dress, tights, a light jacket, and a pair of comfortable flats. There, I thought, staring at myself in the mirror, straining to like how I looked. I almost succeeded, too.
Until Leslie walked in, with her perfect hair and flawless skin, glistening with sweat—seriously, only Leslie could look good after a vigorous workout routine. I recalled what Matt said that morning about how I shouldn’t worry about any lingering feelings on that front. Sure, that’s what he says now, but has he ever looked at her? How could I compete???
She immediately lit up when she noticed me. “Wow, look at you!” she cried, clearly ecstatic by the fact that for once I wasn’t wearing jeans. “First date, huh?”
I nodded, straining a smile to mask my anxiety. I chewed my lip as she kicked off her shoes and began to undress. “Hey, Lez, can I ask you something?”
“Of course,” she called over her shoulder.
“Where did you guys go on your first date?”
She paused and turned to me with raised eyebrows.
“Just so I can know whether to be mad at him if he—you know—takes me to the same place.”
She smiled sweetly, that slightly condescending smile she reserves for me when she thinks I said something immature. It was annoying: There were only three years between us, yet she treated me like I was a freshman in high school, not college. “Oh, Kelsey, you don’t have to worry about me. Matt and I are ancient history.” She turned away again.
I rolled my eyes. “I know, but—I just want to know what to expect. Does he go big? Or is he super casual, like dinner and a movie?”
“I don’t know. With you, it’s different. He’s known you for years, and he’s liked you for awhile.”
“Wait—” I began, but she kept talking.
“We’d only known each other about a day when we first went out. I went up to him on a Friday during freshman English.”
I suppressed a growl as I asked loudly, “You knew? That he liked me?”
She twisted back to me, looking caught. “Y-Yes,” she said slowly, guiltily.
“And you just left me stewing for a week, thinking he hated me?” I almost yelled.
“He asked me not to say anything!” she pleaded.
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“Where did you guys go?” I demanded again. Why was she skirting this answer?
She wouldn’t meet my eyes. “Look, he asked me not to say anything to you. A long time before you guys—before you kissed him, okay?”
“He told you?” I gasped, flabbergasted.
“He didn’t tell me, I asked. It was obvious! Not as obvious as you were, but… When he invited you to my bonfire? Do you think he’d do that for just any old roommate of mine?”
Yes, because he’s a nice guy. Even if we hadn’t known each other, he might have seen me, all sad and pathetic and alone, and invited me anyway. I’d always assumed his invitation had been more out of pity than any kind of affection for me, anyhow. But I wasn’t going to let Leslie off the hook for not cluing me into the fact that I was wrong. “Whatever,” I grunted flatly, grabbing my purse and heading for the door.
“Kelsey,” she called desperately.
I paused, my hand on the knob. She couldn't stand having someone mad at her.
“We went to dinner and a movie. That was it.”
I was almost disappointed. “That’s it?”
She bit her lip and nodded.
“So what’s the big deal?” I groaned incredulously. “Why didn’t you just say that?”
She glanced away. “I invited him up afterwards.”
“So?”
Now she looked at me pointedly, incredulous that I could be that slow. “For coffee.”
I finally caught her drift, and my cheeks flamed. “Oh.”
“It was, like, a month after he’d broken up with Caroline. I didn’t know—I didn’t know what had happened. I didn’t know about the baby they’d lost.” Leslie’s voice cracked on the word baby. “I was just looking for a hookup, and I thought he was hot. But as you know…Matt’s not a hookup kind of guy.”
“He turned you down,” I surmised, nursing a tiny swell of happiness at the idea that Leslie didn’t get everything she wanted.
She nodded. “Yeah. We made out for a little while, but as soon as I hinted that I wanted more, he pulled away. It was still fresh for him. He was still in pain, after everything… I made him tea and he told me about it. We’ve been best friends ever since.”
I listened to this with a scowl, but I was also relieved to hear with absolute certainty that nothing more than a brief attraction had ever passed between them.
“I’m sorry, I just thought maybe you wouldn’t want to know that once upon a time I tried to sleep with your boyfriend.”
“Matt’s not my boyfriend,” I countered flatly, the word uncomfortable and foreign in my mouth.
Leslie’s Kelsey smile was back. “Oh come on, you don’t actually believe that, do you?”
Something about her certainty made the pterodactyls alight again in my stomach. “I guess I’ll find out tonight,” I said in a wavering voice.
She checked the time. “You said six, right? You better get going. And just so you know—I’m staying at Jake’s again tonight. If you guys want to come back here—”
“Yeah, like that’ll happen,” I laughed without humor. “Matt’s not a hookup kind of guy, remember?” Even if he was, it still wouldn’t happen, because I wasn’t a hookup kind of girl.
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She cocked her head amusedly. “You would be far from a hookup.”
I turned to leave so she wouldn’t see my rosy cheeks. “Oh God. Here I go.”
“Good luck!” she called after me.
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He was perched on the hood of his car, staring intently at his wringing hands, so my approach went unnoticed. I took this moment to scrutinize his outfit, trying to deduce what his plans were. He looked extraordinarily handsome in jeans and a form-fitting vest—formal, but not. I should be okay, I decided. That was how I’d ended up—formal, but not.
Matt scrambled to his feet when he saw me and smiled. “Hi.”
“Hi,” I said, and blushed for some unintelligible reason. I found it bizarrely hard to look at him while he was looking at me.
His eyes travelled down my dress. “You look nice,” he said.
I couldn’t stop myself from latching onto that word: Nice. Did I just look nice? Why not pretty, or beautiful? If he was my boyfriend—and that was a pretty big if; one night of making out does not automatically entail a relationship—wasn’t it his job to tell me I looked pretty? And yet the only descriptive word that occurred to him was “nice.” I knew I was adding subtext where there was none, but I couldn’t let it go.
He leaned down to kiss me, seemed to think better of it, and pecked me on the cheek at the last second (I failed to let that go, too). He opened the car door for me.
“Thanks. You too.”
Thanks. You too?! What was this, a blind date? This was the man who shared my bed just twelve hours ago! I wanted to kick myself. He looked better than nice. He always looked better than nice. I couldn’t think of a time when I didn’t find him absolutely gorgeous. You too was the best I could come up with? I immediately forgave him for “nice.”
“You’re late,” Matt observed teasingly as he climbed behind the wheel.
“Yeah,” I agreed. “I was talking to Leslie.” What is wrong with me? WHY WOULD I JUST VOLUNTEER THAT INFORMATION?
“Not about me, I hope,” he quipped, grinning nervously at me.
I pretended I hadn’t heard this and gazed out the window.
His grin wilted. “Crap. What did she say?”
“Nothing,” I lied automatically.
He clearly didn’t believe me, but he didn’t press the issue. “How was work?” he asked.
“Fine.”
Silence.
Why is this so weird? I struggled to think of a single topic of conversation, but I only drew blanks. It was like our night together had wiped years of friendship from existence. We were total strangers on a blind date.
The pair of us rode in awkward silence until at last he parked behind a restaurant, cut the engine, and smiled sheepishly at me. “Part one,” he declared anxiously.
“Cool,” I commented blandly.
“It’s the only place I could find that serves kangaroo,” he explained, flushing bright red.
“What on earth made you think I’d want to eat a kangaroo?” I demanded, gaping at him.
“Not kangaroo specifically,” he appended, turning an even deeper red. “I mean…Melbourne, you know?”
It dawned on me that he was trying to pay homage to our vacation six years ago, allegedly when he realized I was more to him than just Isaac’s weird little sister. “Oh,” I gasped, and added, genuinely this time, “cool!”
Matt smiled—or possibly winced—and got out, once again darting around the nose of his car to open my door for me before I could move an inch. I wanted to tell him to stop with the strangely chivalrous gestures, but things were weird enough. I didn’t want to add to his embarrassment.
We walked down an alley with a mile of space between us, Matt deliberately slowing his pace so I could keep up. My knee still ached, but it was a huge improvement over last night. It also helped that I’d popped some ibuprofen before getting dressed in case the beach thing did happen.
“I’ve never been here before,” he said conversationally, holding the door open for me, “so I have no idea what to expect.”
My first impression: loud and expensive. This place was sleek and high-end, with black, white, and gold décor. The shiny marble walls and floor amplified the soft rock and pop fusion blaring from the speakers placed near the ceiling. Modern paint-spattered canvases were hung here and there to add a pop of color.
Everything was so shiny and stylish; I felt like a hobo walking into Saks Fifth Avenue.
“Can we even afford this place?” I asked under my breath.
“I’ll put it on my credit card,” he muttered, but I could tell he was caught off guard by the grandeur. I decided then and there that, though it might cost me a week’s worth of wages, I’d pay for my own meal.
We were seated across from each other in the back of the restaurant right beneath a speaker, so the reverberating music overpowered any normal conversation. I ordered a (free) glass of water and he got a Diet Coke. I postponed any more chitchat by feigning fascination with the menu, but even this only lasted until we ordered (chicken—the only dishes under $30). As the waiter walked away with my only diversion, Matt smiled apprehensively at me.
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I returned his smile with what I hoped was a reassuring grin. “So what’s Part Two?” I yelled in my most conversational tone. “What have you got in store?”
“There’s a theme,” he shouted cryptically.
“Oh, are we attending my brother’s wedding later?” I teased, staring at the woodgrain on the table. It looked like it was moving, making me feel sick; my heart began to pound as my anxiety skyrocketed. I glanced up at him to stop the illusion.
“Not quite,” he said, his eyes sparkling. “Think a little more fun.”
“A watch shop?”
“You’re lukewarm.”
I replayed those days in my head and opened my mouth to answer, but just then, his phone vibrated to life. He cringed as he checked the ID. “It’s Mom. She told me she’d call when she was discharged.” Matt looked up at me, awaiting permission.
“Go ahead,” I sighed, and he scrambled away in search of a quieter area. I closed my eyes as my heart raced in my chest, the music throbbing in my head, my stomach knotting with dark panic as though I’d tilted back in my chair and nearly lost my balance. I put my head down on my forearms, trying to tune out the clatter of the restaurant and the obnoxious music blaring right overhead.
“Kelsey?” I heard as he returned from his call. “Are you okay?”
I swallowed, scared to open my mouth. I lifted my head just enough to shake it.
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“What’s wrong?” he asked in alarm.
I wanted to cry. Why here? Why now? I kept my eyes squeezed closed, willing the walls to stop spinning. “Roller coaster,” I managed at last.
“Roller coaster?” he repeated in bewilderment.
I swallowed hard and tried a word he’d understand: “Migraine.”
“Oh.” He sounded disappointed. “Do you want to go home?”
“Yeah,” I said through a constricted sob. Our first date. I ruin everything. I barely managed to get to my feet and teetered precariously; it felt like my brains were sloshing around in my skull. Matt slapped a few dollar bills on the table to pay for our drinks, grabbed my elbow, and steadied me.
“Are you okay to walk?” he said with concern.
“Let me lean on you,” I whimpered, clutching him to me, squeezing his arm tightly. He was the only thing that wasn’t rocking to and fro. He guided me through the restaurant as I staggered between the tables like a drunken sailor who'd lost her sea legs.
I made him stop by the hostess’s counter and I stumbled over to the umbrella stand, where I tore off one of those plastic bags for when it rains and you don’t want your umbrella to drip everywhere. “Just in case,” I mumbled apologetically.
“In case what?”
“Just get me to the car.”
He did as I asked, taking me by both shoulders and aiming me at the car. We’d just pulled into traffic when a violent wave of nausea forced my lunch back up. I vomited into the umbrella bag, my wet eyes still squeezed tight as the ground tilted and swayed.
“Oh,” Matt said with dawning comprehension as he made a right.
“I’m sorry,” I moaned, trembling all over.
“Stop apologizing,” he growled. “Let’s just get you home.”
I was covered in a cold sheen of sweat now, crying helplessly as my world continued to roll beneath me.
“Does it help if I drive faster or slower?” he asked helpfully, eyes darting between me and the road.
“No,” I groaned.
We were only a fifteen-minute drive from campus, but it felt more like an hour as I sat in the passenger seat, retching every couple of minutes as Matt attempted to drive steadily and smoothly to no avail. Even at stoplights, the ground felt like it was pitching beneath me. I threw up twice more during that interminable ride.
At last, we pulled up in front of my dorm, but I barely noticed—I thought we were still moving. By now I was afraid to walk on my own, and he wouldn’t hear of letting me go by myself anyway. He took my arm again and guided me into the lobby.
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Upstairs, I allowed him to root through my purse for the keys to my room. He pushed open the door and I made a mad, unsteady dash for the bathroom.
I collapsed onto the tile floor as my head swam and the floor roiled, planting my head on my arms over the commode.
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That was when I noticed—
With a sense of impending doom every girl can sympathize with, I got to my feet and pulled down my underwear, sinking onto the toilet in horror. A great red splotch, right down the middle.
It explained a lot, actually.
I closed my eyes and waited for the world to settle down, even just a little, before I climbed once more to my feet and rummaged for a tampon under the sink. “Sheet.”
“Kelsey?” I heard on the other side of the door. “Are you okay? Do you need anything?”
I desperately shoved aside spare bottles of conditioner and hand soap and body wash and lotion and razors. Nothing so much as a panty liner. How did we let this happen?!
“Kelsey,” Matt called again when I didn’t answer.
“Bring me my purse,” I called weakly, holding out one last hope.
“Your purse?”
“Yes!” Why couldn’t he just do it?
I cracked open the door and took it from him and unzipped the inner pocket where I kept my spare pads and—
“Sheet.”
“Kelsey?” He was still standing right outside the door.
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I shut my eyes tight, tears running down my cheeks as I powered through the urge to vomit again. Finally, I swallowed and came to a difficult decision. “Matt, I’m sorry, but I’m gonna need you to do me a very personal favor.”
“Anything,” he promised through the door.
You’re going to regret that. I took a deep breath. “I need you to go to the drug store and buy some tampons.”
“What kind?”
I was so shocked I didn’t answer right away. Really? No self-conscious protests, no pathetic whining about how embarrassing it is for a guy to buy tampons? I got my first period when I was twelve while Mom was pulling a double shift at the hospital. When I confessed I needed pads, Dad and Isaac had acted as though I'd requested they lop off their right hands and eat them. (Ultimately Dad handed me a ten and made me buy them myself while he picked out a bag of chips, a soda, and a cheap screwdriver for some reason.) So the fact that Matt took this news without complaint was completely astonishing to me.
“Regular is fine.” I couldn’t believe I was having this conversation ON OUR FIRST DATE.
“Anything else?”
“Uh-uh.” I listened for the door to close behind him. When I was certain that I was alone, I toppled back into the room and collected a bottle of Excedrin, some PJs, a t-shirt, and clean underwear and darted back into the bathroom.
Despite my unbalanced, nauseated state, I was able to change without puking again. My head swimming and my stomach churning and my uterus whining, I hunkered down on the toilet and awaited my savior, head in my arms.
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I waited about twenty minutes before I heard the door open.
“Kels?” he called softly. “How are you doing?”
“Still dizzy,” I answered from the toilet. The bathroom doorknob turned. “Don’t!” I sobbed.
“I’m not,” he replied patiently, cracking open the door. A box of tampons slid across the floor and tapped my foot, and the door closed again. “Tell me I have good aim.”
I smiled through my anguish and wiped my eyes. “Spot on.” He’d even gotten my favorite brand. What a guy.
I finally exited the bathroom a couple minutes later, took two steps into my room, and tipped into bed. I squeezed my eyes shut as my bed swayed to and fro. I tried to get comfortable, but every movement, no matter how minute, set it off again. I whimpered and curled into a ball and drifted off to a restless sleep.
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The moon was rising when I rolled over and returned to the land of consciousness. Miraculously, my bed felt less like a raft on a stormy sea and more like a wonderfully solid, motionless rock. I opened one eye and zeroed in on the boy sitting at my desk, reading a book by dim lamplight.
“You're still here.”
He didn't look up from the page as he retorted, “And you keep saying that.” A pause as he finished the paragraph he was on, then he glanced up at me and smiled. “Well?”
I stretched and sat up, waiting for the vertigo to return, but everything was gloriously still. I felt lightheaded and ravenous, but otherwise back to normal. “Still as a statue.”
“Glad to hear it!” He hopped to his feet and joined me on the bed, settling startlingly close to me. It felt strange but oddly right. My skin tingled where his leg touched mine, and my heart fluttered at his closeness.
“What time is it?” I asked before he had a chance to notice the anxiety on my flushed face. But for once in my life, it was good anxiety, like a little kid on Christmas Eve, wondering what happiness was in store for her.
“A little after eleven.”
I stared at my feet guiltily. “I ruined your whole evening.”
“Shut up, you didn’t ruin anything,” he snapped impatiently.
“I ruined our first date,” I whispered pathetically.
Matt shook his head exasperatedly but let it go. “There’s always next time.” He peered dubiously at me from the corners of his eyes. “Are you done puking?”
“I think so,” I answered uncertainly. “I used to get carsick when I was little, and that’s what this felt like.”
“Except you weren’t in a car.”
“No.”
“At the restaurant…you said ‘roller coaster.’”
“That’s what it feels like,” I said, flashing back to that moment and feeling queasy. “Especially in the car. I felt like you were driving up walls. Even when I was still, everything was still moving.”
“Yuck,” he commented with feeling.
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“I think it’s a menstrual thing,” I added, embarrassed to be talking about my monthlies with Matt. “I was on my period the last time this happened.”
“Ah,” he said knowingly as though the awkwardness of the topic was all in my head. “Jamie used to get migraines, too.” There was a pause as we wondered what happened next. It was late, our “date” was over, and I was a menstruating mess.
“You hungry?” he asked suddenly.
I contemplated my empty stomach. “Starving—”
No sooner had I answered than he shoved a package into my hands.
“Oreos?” I hastily ripped them open and devoured one.
“Thought you might want something to munch on when you felt better.” He scooted back so he was against the wall, and curled up there. I stared at him for a moment, reading his body language. Perhaps our date wasn’t over. He patted the mattress next to him, smirking enticingly.
“Hold that thought,” I blurted, and bounded into the bathroom. I scrubbed my face and neck, brushed my teeth, tied back my hair, and spritzed my neck with a tiny puff of body spray. I didn’t want him to kiss me—although I wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t—and be reminded of the bodily fluids that had violently spewed out of me just a few hours ago.
When I came out, he was propping my laptop on my dresser. He threw me an exasperated look as I sank onto my bed. “What kind of twenty-first century college kid doesn’t have a TV?”
I shrugged. “I told my parents not to bother, because I only ever watch Netflix, and Leslie’s never here to watch anything.”
“Lot of good that’s doing us,” he sighed. “What are you watching right now?”
His question caught me in the middle of another Oreo. I chewed and swallowed. “I just started my gazillionth rewatch of Firefly.”
“Oh. What’s that about?”
When I didn’t respond, he twisted around to find my jaw unhinged in abject horror. “What?” he asked with a bewildered shrug.
“You’ve never seen Firefly?”
He shook his head. “No.”
“You’ve never seen Firefly?”
“No.”
“How can you have never seen Firefly?”
He shrugged again.
I had to look away from him, gripping my head in distress. “How can I be going out with someone who’s never watched Firefly?” I turned back to him. “But—you’ve watched Doctor Who. How can you have seen Doctor Who but not Firefly? How can you know who Benedict Cumberbatch is but not know what Firefly is? I mean—it’s Firefly.”
He was starting to get annoyed now. “Would you please stop saying Firefly?”
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“Firefly is one of the greatest shows in the ’Verse,” I explained weakly, still in shock. “It’s my favorite show of all time.”
He smiled at this. “Don’t worry, we can still watch it.” He turned back to my laptop, scrolled through the menu, and clicked the “Play Next Episode” button.
“No, no, no,” I cried. I leaped off the bed and smashed the space bar as the amazing cold open of Our Mrs. Reynolds began to play. “That is not how you watch Firefly.”
Matt stepped back from the laptop, crossed his arms, and glared at me.
“You have to start at the beginning.” I stroked my laptop. “You have to watch it the way it was intended.”
“Fine.” He rolled his eyes and sat on my bed, arms still crossed petulantly, while I returned to the episode list and selected Serenity.
I had to justify my overreaction; he must think I’m a lunatic. “It’s just that it originally aired on TV out of order because the network had no faith in its brilliance, which was an absolute travesty.”
He stared at me with mild impatience before he slid back to the wall and gestured once more for me to join him. As I curled up under his arm, he pulled the box of Oreos onto his lap and fixed his attention on the screen.
Feeling warm and fuzzy and swelling with pride that I was about to recruit Matt for the Browncoats, I reached for an Oreo and cozied up with my favorite person to watch the pilot episode of my favorite show.
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I have class in an hour.”
“Skip it,” I begged, aware that this was like asking the sun to rise in the west.
“I can’t,” he said, obviously conflicted. “Exams are coming up.”
“So? You already got into medical school.” I pointed dramatically at my laptop screen. “We have one left. This is what the last ten hours have been about!”
He gave a resigned chuckle. “This sucks.”
“You’re sick. You went on a date last night and you got food poisoning. Or-or-OR—you caught the flu from me. Anyone who saw us can vouch that I was not well last night.”
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He smirked. “You’re desperate.”
I nodded, clinging to him like an anchor, holding him in place. “I really, really am. Please.”
“I am not skipping class to watch TV,” he laughed.
I gasped, clutching my chest, stung by the insult. “Firefly is not just TV.”
He shrugged helplessly. “I wish I could stay.”
“It’s forty-two minutes. We can make it.”
He considered me for a moment, eyes narrowed. “Not if we keep arguing about it.”
I squealed in excitement and started the very last episode of Firefly, victorious.
We’d made it. We’d survived our first date. Well, there actually hadn’t been much of a date to survive, considering we’d been at the restaurant for ten whole minutes before my migraine made it impossible for me to function. But once that nightmare had passed, we’d made the most of it, cuddling on my bed, feeding each other Oreos and binging the entirety of my favorite show in a single night.
The night had started out so awful, but it had ended amazingly.
“I really have to go,” Matt sighed, checking his phone for the time when the credits rolled. He scooted off the bed.
“I really wish you didn’t,” I said in a small voice, curled up on the bed, peering up at him pathetically. The sun had risen hours ago, but I didn’t want our night to end.
He smiled. “Try again tonight?” he proposed.
I grinned happily. “Yes! Yes, absolutely.”
“Not sure I can swing another reservation, though,” he admitted, double-checking his pockets for his car keys, wallet, and phone. “Had to employ a bit of charm to get a table last night at such short notice and then we bailed on them. How about you meet me at D’Onofrio’s? I get out of class at seven.”
This last detail was unnecessary. I was more than familiar with his schedule: I’d spent the last four months secretly in love with him and thus was hyper-aware of his comings and goings. I knew that he worked on Wednesday nights, so tonight, Tuesday, would be our soonest chance to have another go at a “proper” date. I promised myself I wouldn’t let my freaking menstrual cycle screw things up again.
Matt aimed for the door but paused with his hand on the knob like he’d forgotten something. Then he strode back over to me and kissed me intensely—the first time our lips had met since yesterday morning. “Bye. I’ll see you tonight.”
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“Bye,” I breathed, beaming at his retreating back, my heart floating somewhere near the ceiling.
Leslie was standing right outside the door when he opened it. She gave him a once-over and raised a suspicious eyebrow. Matt flushed bright pink, said hello, and hurried down the hall.
She slunk into our room, grinning ear-to-ear, and winked knowingly. “Told you—not a hookup.”
I rolled my eyes. “We literally spent the night watching Netflix.”
She frowned slightly, seemingly disappointed that neither of her friends had gotten laid last night, but quickly masked it with a big smile. “So it went well?”
My grin was huge and involuntary. “Amazing,” I sighed. “Aside from the puking, I mean.” I told her about the horrible migraine and how he’d taken care of me, and how we were planning a do-over for tonight.
“D’Onofrio’s is more casual than the steakhouse,” she said thoughtfully. “Nice atmosphere for a date, though. It’s usually dim and candlelit and the music’s quieter. Super romantic. Get a glass of wine and share dessert.” She smacked her lips. “Dang, kinda wish I was going now.”
I smiled dreamily at the ceiling, imagining me, Matt, and romance. I could not wait.
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