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overheardatthecontinental · 3 years

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Talk Chapter 19

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It was over, but not done.

There were still so many things to do before John could drop everything and go home to Helen.

He starts by calling Nick.

“H-hello?” Jesus, the boy really was afraid of him.

Ironic, John thinks, considering he owes this kid more than he can ever hope to repay for allowing Helen to contact him during her imprisonment. And then looking out for her at the cost of his job, possibly his life if DeLuca had found out.

“It’s done.” He says, “DeLuca’s going to be picked up by Adjudication. Are you able to stay until someone gets there to pick up Isabella?”

“Yeah, yeah. Of course. The, uh, the bounty’s dropped then?”

He exhales and, fuck, it feels so good.

The bounty is dropped. The contract is closed. And while he doesn’t think either of them will ever be truly safe, no one is coming after her anymore.

“Yes.”

“Good. That’s, that’s good.” Nick sounds relieved, too. The younger man pauses for a moment and then tentatively asks, “Would you do me a favor, Mister Wick, sir? She told me if I ever wanted to talk… I just was wondering if you could ask her to call me. When she’s back and settled and shi—stuff. Stuff.”

And, god, Helen was just that good. And it had started as manipulation, he knew. A way to save herself when he wasn’t there to do the job but there was no doubt in John’s mind that Helen would meet with Nick every week, for as long as he needed.

“Yeah, kid. I’ll pass it along.”

“Thank you.”

John pauses, thoughtfully. “When Isabella’s been picked up, head over to the Continental. Ask for Winston. New York is always busy. I know they’re looking to hire another Sommelier. It’ll pay more than Syndicate; I can guarantee that. I’ll put in a good word for you.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

He shakes his head, in disbelief of himself. He knew Helen was his reason, but John couldn’t quite pinpoint the moment he had gone utterly and completely soft .

Maybe she’d have some insight to that, he thinks, smiling to himself.

And, because he doesn’t want the knowledge that he has gone soft to spread, he adds, “Don’t fuck it up” and ends the call.

After all, he isn’t done in the Underworld.

For starters, the contract had been dropped but that didn’t mean the memo had gotten out. And that needed to happen before he brought Helen back home. The last thing he wanted was to bring her back only to have some kid target her because they ignored the notice.

The hotel buzzes as John walks through the front door.

He ignores it, as he always does, approaching the front desk. There’s a small queue that has gathered in front of Charon, but the Concierge waves him up.

“The Manager is expecting you. He is in his office.”

John nods his thanks and turns towards the hall where he’ll find Winston, only to run into Verdugo.

The other assassin looks him over, regarding him with vague interest. He’s carrying a weapons bag, slung over a shoulder. A duffle bag resides in his other hand.

He’s leaving, John realizes. Verdugo was a drifter.

The only thing that had kept him in New York was the possibility of a substantial bounty that has since been removed.

Verdugo breaks the silence first, “I’ll admit, when I heard you were trying to get the bounty removed, I didn’t think you could do it.”

John raises a brow.

Because what the hell is he supposed to say to that?

Oh, no worries. Totally get it. You wouldn’t have wasted both our time if you had only realized sooner that you couldn’t kill my love?

“It was just business.”

Now that, John thinks, is something he’s grown very tired of hearing.

The Underworld, for better or worse—and right now, John Wick was very much leaning towards worse , was all about money and advancement. Status.

The values he has been exposed to, he realizes, had been very self-serving. No wonder so many narcissists and hedonists thrived in the Underworld.

And John had survived because he was so self-reliant. He had thrived in a world where favors are currency by being willing to help others and avoiding asking for any help in return. It made him rich, in more than just money. The pile of markers in his collection is unparalleled.

But he still went home alone. To an empty house. In an empty life, where escapism had been his only fulfillment.

Drifting.

In control but, somehow, still empty.

Until Helen had forced her way into his head, laying claim to his heart.

And suddenly everything that had once seemed so complicated and out of reach was within his grasp.

In that moment, he pities Verdugo.

A man, so much like him in so many ways. A drifter. Free of roots and obligation. Making a name for himself by virtue of skill and competency. But hollow like a tin soldier.

Verdugo will move on to the next contract. The name Helen Kingston will be replaced with another unfortunate soul, who John is certain will not be as lucky.

And he’ll make his money and build his legacy.

And he’ll go home alone. To an empty house. In an empty life.

John wants to kill him along with anyone else who had hurt or threatened Helen’s life, but it occurs to him that might be a mercy. And maybe Verdugo doesn’t deserve mercy but John didn’t deserve mercy, either. But it had found him.

Still, he feels the need to say, “If I ever see you anywhere near her…”

“You won’t.” Verdugo assures him, “Be seeing you.”

“No.” John says, “You won’t.”

He leaves Verdugo standing in the hall as he makes his way to Winston’s office.

The old man doesn’t even look up as John walks in. “It would appear that you had a busy day.” He says as he practically collapses into one of the leather chairs.

“Busy week.” John amends, “I think I finally understand the phrase thank god it’s Friday .”

Winston smirks, rising to his feet, “Drink?”

He shakes his head, “No, thank you. I’ve had enough today, while playing politics. Did you happen to hear from Sofia?”

“Yes,” Winston says, pouring himself brandy, “I already sent someone to collect Mateo. And Isabella. She said you got a confession from the former.”

“Lorenzo plans to force the counsel to convene on Monday, here in the city.”

“He wants justice meted out swiftly.”

“That makes two of us.” John agrees with a nod. “I want this done and in the past.”

“Understandably. You managed the impossible this week.”

“Didn’t think I could do it?” John asks, thinking of his conversation with Verdugo and the time that had been wasted pursuing Helen Kingston.

“On the contrary,” Winston says, taking the seat next to him, “You made me a great deal of money.”

John arches a brow.

“You successfully removing the bounty was the long odds over at Dex’s. Fifty to one.”

And, fuck, but that makes him laugh. He didn’t realize how much he needed that after the stress of the day, “How much did you put down?”

“Five grand.” Winston looks at him strangely and it occurs to John that he’s probably never laughed in front of Winston before.

“Well-played.” He says, shaking his head in amusement. While he never intends to tell Helen of the betting odds placed on when she would die and by whose hand, he can’t help but think that she’d get a kick out of it. Either that, or she’d be pissed she never got a chance to get in on the action.

Yeah. That sounds right.

“I know the rumor mill will have heard that the contract was dropped,” John says, “but is it possible to get Administration to send out a mass message? To confirm it, and make sure anybody working solo is notified?”

“I’ll see to it myself.”

John nods gratefully. That would make him feel much better about taking her back to the city. Although he’s already mentally preparing himself for the wave of anxiety that will surely hit the moment, he leaves her alone to go back to work. He tables that particular worry for now.

“I have another favor to ask.”

Winston rolls his eyes, “Indeed?”

“Nick Russo. Ex-Syndicate. He burnt some bridges today to help keep Helen safe. I’d appreciate it if you considered him for the second Sommelier position you were considering opening up.”

The old man hums, “I’ll meet with him.”

“Thank you.”

And just like that, two things are checked off his list.

Winston was good like that. As Manager, it was his job to be accommodating and helpful and ensure everyone was getting the best services that could be offered to those serving the High Table. But it was also more than that.

For decades, Winston had been a mentor to him.

After being introduced by Charon, Winston had immediately taken to the young, reckless assassin. He’d seen something that others had brushed to the side.

And John had been skeptical. Untrusting.

But Winston had been relentless. He offered sound advice that John found hard to ignore. Slowly, John had found himself utilizing the Manager. After moving back to New York, it became clear that Winston knew the city and its inhabitants better than anyone.

Somewhere along the line, John had begun to trust him.

Winston had tried to line John up for Management but had accepted his decision when John, respectfully, denied interest in such a path. While Winston mourned John’s lack of ambition, he continued to serve as a mentor.

Arguably, the closest thing John had ever had to a father-figure.

John doesn’t doubt, for a moment, his decision to retire. He will miss very little about the Underworld. But Winston would be counted amongst them.

And while John doesn’t particularly want to have this conversation, he owes it to Winston to be the one to tell him.

“I’ve decided to retire.”

Winston’s head turns sharply, “Pardon?”

John sits up straighter in the chair, “I’m retiring. As soon as everything has been taken care of, I’m leaving the Underworld.”

“Jonathan, you have obligations.” Winston says, shaking his head, “You can’t just retire .”

“Lorenzo is freeing me of my contractual obligations. I intend to reach out to Viggo to make arrangements as well.”

“Lorenzo D’Antonio is letting you walk away?” The surprise is evident in his voice.

John nods.

“Miraculous in itself, but you cannot expect Viggo to do the same.”

“I won’t take no for an answer.” John says softly, “One way or another, I’m getting out. And I’ve made up my mind about this. It won’t be changed.”

He leaves no room for argument. Bittersweet as it may be, there is nothing that can change his mind anymore. Even if Helen didn’t want him, he would have left to keep her safe. His enemies wouldn’t have used her against him if he was no longer a problem.

But Helen did want him. She loved him, beyond all reason.

“Whatever will you do?”

John feels his lips twitch. Aside from keeping house and devoting the majority of his time to ensuring Helen’s happiness—that she never regrets choosing him, he really isn’t sure. He knew he didn’t have it in him, nor did he have the credentials or the qualifications, to work in the real world. At least, for most occupations.

And, truthfully, he was tired of the constant work.

Hating his life and coming home to an empty house, John had filled his life with work. Work until the point of distraction. Which meant extra jobs, far beyond working for money. He worked to kill people and time, respectively.

Decades of working seven days a week, every day of the year.

He’s looking forward to the break.

Maybe he’d pick up a hobby. He’d continue to bind books through the coldness of the winter. Maybe he’d even start to sell them or volunteer with a library to fix old tomes.

Maybe, come springtime, he’d actually open the pool in his backyard which had been closed and unused since he first moved in.

He planned to cook for her. Maybe he’d get into that. Learn to make things from scratch. To bake.

The possibilities were endless.

“I don’t know.” He answers honestly and he’s… surprisingly okay with that. The uncertainty would usually throw him for a loop, but John finds himself completely and unexpectedly happy not knowing. It was freeing.

“Are you—”

“Yes.” John interrupts before Winston can say sure . “More sure, more certain than I have ever been about anything in my life.”

Winston nods, slowly. He doesn’t understand, John knows. The old man probably won’t ever understand why John was giving up the wealth, the prestige, the permanent get-out-of-jail-free card that existed for the members of the Underworld.

“When?” He asks.

“As soon as possible. I plan on testifying Monday. I’ll meet with Viggo after and inform him of my intentions.”

“It will not be easy.”

“I don’t expect it to be. But it won’t matter. Whatever Viggo demands, I’ll do it.”

And he would. Nothing would stop him.

They sit in silence as Winston seems to digest it all. It’s odd, he thinks. He knows Winston disapproves, just as he had when John had first told him about Helen. But Winston knows that John doesn’t give a fuck about approval. No one’s opinion influenced him, save Helen’s.

He missed her.

It had only been hours since he had last held her in his arms, and he missed her.

Was this what it was to be in love? To crave the presence of another in any and every form? To hold them in your mind’s eye even when you are away?

How did people stand it, living like this?

And yet, John acknowledges, he would not give it up for the world.

“I find myself at a loss for words.” Winston says after minutes of silence. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. You were ready to burn New York to the ground to find her. Ready to declare war on the High Table to get her back.” The old man shakes his head, “And you seem certain. I know your mind will not be changed. But I feel the need to ask you, once more, Jonathan: is she really worth it?”

John thinks of her smile.

The kindness in her eyes.

The warmth of her touch.

Her quick wit. Her inquisitive nature. The way she just accepted things as they were. The way she shut him down when he was starting to bullshit himself. The books he had mentioned in passing on her bedside table as she made the effort no one else had to understand him.

John nods, “She really is.”

……….

He parks the car and John feels another wave of relief wash over him. The fact that it’s over, that Helen is safe keeps hitting him again and again. And now, he’s within feet of her.

John slips out of the car, admiring for the first time since they moved to the Vermont safehouse how bright the stars were when there were no lights around.

The front door opens and Marcus steps out, his bag in his hand.

“I take it everything went well?”

John nods. “You leaving?”

Marcus nods back, closing the door behind him. “After everything, I figured you two could probably use some time alone.”

He’s grateful for Marcus’ reasoning. While John had no intention of kicking Marcus out, he’s right. The only thing John wants to do is wrap Helen up in his arms and never let her go.

“Thank you.” He says, “For everything. I’ll never be able to re—”

“Don’t.” Marcus shakes his head. “I was happy to do it. More for her sake than for yours. You’re still kind of a dick but… she makes you almost tolerable.”

John huffs out a laugh, “Who would have thought.”

“That the only person capable of taking you down was a therapist who can barely form a sentence fragment without coffee?” Marcus exhales in disbelief. “Mind-boggling. Call me when you two get back to the city.”

“Will do.” John promises as Marcus throws his duffle into the trunk of his car as he makes his way up the short stairs and into the cottage.

John slips off his suit jacket, hanging it by the door. He undoes the buttons on his vest, one by one, as he walks down the hall towards the living room. He tugs that off, too, draping it over the couch.

She’s not in the living room or the kitchen. He continues down the hall towards their bedroom. The door is open and, sure enough, Helen is in bed. Her back leans against the headboard, a book is open in her hand.

John leans against the door, undoing the top two buttons of his shirt.

Before him is a sight he could spend an eternity gazing in wonder at. Her glasses have slipped down the bridge of her nose as she reads. He watches as she reaches for her bookmark without looking up, turning the page as she inserts it.

Without a glance, she smiles, “Hi honey, how was your day?” She asks as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. He loves her for it. For making him feel some semblance of normality amidst the bullshit and the chaos.

John swallows even as his lips twitch in amusement. “Oh, you know. Bitch of a commute. Faked a powerful man’s death. Tried my hand at politics. Not a fan. Then I took down a mafia boss.”

She sets her book aside before removing her glasses. Helen scans him up and down, assessing for injuries.

His heart swells with love and adoration. It consumes him and makes it almost difficult to breathe. He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do with all these emotions flowing through him.

And, like she can sense he’s overwhelmed, Helen stands up. She crosses the room, her dark eyes gazing into him.

He wonders if she can see his soul. And if she can, will she change her mind about him? Will she realize how truly terrible, how awful he is?

But as he looks into those brown eyes, all he sees reflected back is love.

She loves him, he thinks, even though he doesn’t deserve it. He was a despicable human being. One who had dragged her into the depths of Hell. Even still, she never wavered.

Helen was stronger than he ever hoped to be.

And she loved him. Despite everything.

It staggers him.

Helen reaches him and he cannot help but fall to his knees before her. His arms wrap around her middle, seemingly of their own accord, and he buries his face against her stomach. John’s breath escapes him in a shudder as her arms come up around him, holding him.

She strokes his hair and he can barely hold back a sob.

“I love you, John.”

And, fuck it all, the dam breaks.

He’d lost her, this week.

Someone had taken her, stolen her from her bed. Had hurt her to get to him. Had put a bounty on her head for the sole purpose of manipulating him, simultaneously activating agents to find her and kill his beloved.

Verdugo, who promised to make it quick.

Kate, who would have obliterated Helen until there was nothing left.

The kids in the alley, looking to make a name for themselves, would have killed her.

Along with the hundreds of others who had searched for her, even idly.

He had spent a week feeling out of control, out of his depth. Unsure of how to save her, hating himself for putting her into that position. Terrified that one wrong move could lead to her death.

“I’m sorry.” He chokes out, aware that his tears are soaking into her shirt.

She steps back, only to drop to her knees, too. Her arms wrap around him in a tight hug as he rests his head at the crook of her neck. A hand comes up to cradle his head.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” She assures him.

He swallows, heavily. He’s not sure when he last cried but it had to have been decades.

“It’s my fault…”

The arm around his back tightens and she turns her face to his head.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t… didn’t protect you better… and---”

“Hey,” the hand on his head moves to his cheek and she leans back to look at him. Her thumb strokes a tear, “You didn’t know. You had no reason to suspect that I would be targeted. But you know what?” Her fingers massage his neck, “I’m glad I was.”

He tilts his head in disbelief.

“If DeLuca hadn’t have taken me,” she says softly, “I would have seen you for an hour this week. And an hour next. And the week after that. And that would be it. I would have loved you from afar because that’s all I could do.

“But now,” she runs her fingers down his face, “I can hold you. And kiss you. And love you. And that is more than worth the price of spending a couple uncomfortable days locked in a basement and a couple more hidden away from the world.”

John shakes his head, because she is unreal sometimes. “You deserve so much be—”

“ We don’t get to decide what we deserve, John. That’s never been up to us.” She echoes what she had told him that day in her office. Hours before she had been taken. “But we do get some say in how we’re going to live.”

John finds himself swallowing, his breath hitching as he tries to breathe in. “And how are we going to live?”

“Well,” Helen says with a soft smile, “We’re going to start by hiding away for the rest of the weekend. And you’re going to make good on your promise to fuck me on your tongue until I can’t scream anymore.”

He can’t help but chuckle at how serious she sounds but fuck . Yeah, he’s definitely doing that.

“And then, we’re going to go home. And instead of picking my lock to sneak inside and watch me sleep, you’re going to fall asleep next to me. And instead of leaving before daylight, you’re going to wake up with me. Every day.

“We’ll take weekend trips to Vermont, every now and then. I’ll make you go antiquing with me.” He laughs at that. Helen smiles back, continuing, “And I’ll make you take me to that other house you’ve got in Maine.”

“It’s on a lake.” He tells her, thinking she might like that. He’ll buy a boat. Or a few, unsure if she’d prefer a motorboat or something like a kayak. Whatever she decides, she’ll have. She’ll never want for anything so long as he is breathing.

Helen moves so that she is high on her knees. Her hands reach to cup either side of his face and she leans in to press her lips to his forehead.

“We’re going to have a really good life.” She promises and fuck, he believes her. “And we’re going to be so fucking happy.”

She kisses her way down his face, slowly. Tenderly.

Her lips reach his. How, he thinks, can a kiss be so gentle? So different than anything he’s ever experienced.

It was glorious when she kissed him passionately. It drove him wild when her teeth nipped at his lips or her tongue greedily sucked at his own.

But she’s being so soft that it might very well break him again.

She didn’t look at him and see the Boogeyman. Even knowing who he was, she didn’t let it influence her opinion of him.

He felt human in her arms, in her eyes.

He loves her for it. Among the plethora of reasons that he loved and adored her.

John wraps his arms under her thighs, rising to his feet, and pulling her up with ease.

She kisses the corner of his mouth as he carries her over to the bed. “I love you,” she whispers as he lays her down.

They both undress, taking their time.

The initial desperation has faded and while John is certain it will come back again, he is more than content to take it slow.

When they are both naked, John revels in the warmth of her skin. He kisses his way around her body, allowing his hands the time to memorize every curve, dip, and swell of her body. And she lets him, like she knows how badly he needs this.

And she probably does, he thinks. She’s always been in his head.

Helen’s hand reaches the top of his head, stroking back his hair as he kisses every inch of skin he can reach from his place atop of her.

His open-mouth grazes across her collarbone and John soaks in the way her hand tightens in his hair, her sharp intake of breath as his teeth scrape against her skin. He wonders what other sounds he can coax from her body… He’ll spend forever finding out.

John kisses her lips again. How addictive that feeling, that taste has become.

One hand tilts her head, allowing him to deepen the kiss while his other stretches down her perfect body, dipping between her thighs. He cups her core, feeling the warmth radiating from within her. He dips a finger between her folds. She’s soaking and it’s all for him .

He kisses her harder, feeling his lips bruise as he gently circles his clit with his finger.

She moans into his mouth and he swallows it down.

I love you , he thinks, and has to remind himself that he can say that now. He doesn’t have to keep it bottled in. He wonders how long it will take until he can say it without hesitation. Until it spills as easily from his lips as it comes to echo in his mind.

“I love you, Hels.” He tells her, kissing down her jaw.

“John!” She cries out as he continues to toy with her sensitive clit. He reaches down, coating his fingers in her slick heat before pressing them into her opening. His thumb takes over rolling over the sensitive bundles of nerves.

Helen whimpers, her nails digging into his back. He nips at her throat with his teeth. She’s marked him well enough. Now it’s his turn.

He wants to claim her. To leave his mark all over her so that anyone who sees her will have no doubt that she is taken. One day, he swears to himself that he’ll put a ring on her finger, but until then, he’ll be content with this.

More than content.

He sucks at her neck and plays with her clit until she is a moaning, writhing mess. Before she can reach her release, however, he removes his fingers from her pussy and brings them to his lips.

Helen shudders as she watches him suck her essence from his fingers.

His own cock twitches at the taste.

When he is done, she grabs his hair and yanks him back for a kiss. She sucks on his tongue, tasting herself and he’s never been harder in his life.

John takes his heavy cock in hand and brings it to her entrance. He pushes inside slowly, inch by inch. Letting himself focus on every sensation. The way her pussy yields to him, clenching around him. The way her stomach tightens and her breath stutters. Her grip around him.

He closes his eyes as he finds himself completely buried inside of her. His hips cannot go any further.

The hitch in her breath delights him. John draws back out, reveling in the soft changes in her breath, before he drives back in. Helen cries out and he kisses her neck. Her pussy tightens around him at the sensation.

He’s never needed anyone the way he needs her.

He knows he never will again.

This woman is everything to him. She is it for him. And he’ll love her with every fiber, every atom of his being until he dies. And then beyond.

“Fuck, baby!” She cranes her neck, giving him more access.

He makes a mental note of how much she loves the attention he’s paying to her throat. He nips and she arches her back, crying out yet again. Clenching around him, again.

John rolls his hips, careful to ensure steady pressure to her clit.

Because it’s about her. It’s always been about her.

He lifts his head, turning her head back to him so he can kiss her yet again. Languidly drowning in her as he takes his time fucking her, bringing her to the edge yet again.

Helen swears, her nails biting into him. Her hips meet his, grinding against him as she moans. His thrusts increase in speed and John feels Helen’s entire body seem to tighten.

And all at once, she breaks around him, crying out as a wave of pleasure slams into her. The way her pussy throbs around him is enough to make him lose his resolve and he soon finds himself spilling inside of her with a loud groan.

His eyes lose their focus as his head drops down to the pillow, nestling in the crook of her neck as he breathes heavily. The rush of immediate pleasure leaves him but he is left feeling glorious as he lies on top of her body, still buried inside of her, still feeling the aftershocks of her own orgasm milking him.

With an exhale, he raises his head to look back at her. Her beautiful eyes gazing at him.

Helen reaches up. She pushes back the hair which had fallen into his face before wrapping her hand around to the back of his head, guiding his forehead to rest on hers.

“I love you, John.”

“I love you, too.” He says, swallowing back the emotions that overwhelm him.

And he’s never going to let her forget it. She will never have the opportunity to forget or doubt that he loves her. That she is his everything.

What she said earlier was true: they were going to be so fucking happy.

And he was going to do this right.

John kisses her cheek, “How about I buy you dinner?”

Helen smiles back, “After all this, you better.”

......

One more chapter of this installment to come

thanks to @meetmeinthematinee for reviewing and editing <3

#john wick talk #john wick #john wick fanfiction #john x helen wick #helen wick #john wick prequel #overheard at the continental #the Matrix has queue #john wick fanfic #john wiction

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bluehhj · 5 years

Text

listen to me — chapter 20

LISTEN TO ME — 0020

listen to me masterlist;

WORDS: 2.5K

As they waited in the queue, Jinah repeated to herself that she didn't have to be afraid, for all that was fake blood, special effects and costumed people. There was nothing to fear, it was just a movie like any other.

Jisung, who was standing next to Choi, would choke out a laugh every now and then while looking at her out of the corner of his eye. Although he had seen more than three times, he had chosen the movie "The Nun" to make sure that Jinah had never been interested in even looking at the trailers, and the queue for that session wasn't so long and so they would've to be in the midst of so many people inside the movie theater, since neither of them liked crowded places.

"You know you don't have to go, do you?" Han asked as they advanced a little further toward the entrance. As much as he wanted to see her false pose of brave collapse like a house of cards, he didn't want her to be traumatized. "We can change and see a romance."

"I don't want to." Jinah smiled nervously. "This movie isn't scary, I don't know why you're so worried."

Jisung laughed and raised his eyebrows quickly, "All right, you're the one who knows."

When they handed in the tickets and entered the dark room, Jinah swallowed hard to note that besides her and Jisung, only about ten people were there, most of them concentrating on the front seats. Her intention was to have something to distract herself with, whether it was a child chewing popcorn or a couple kissing, but apparently she'd have to keep full attention in the movie until it finished and twisted to avoid suffering a panic attack during the mission.

Jisung chose a pair of seats from the next to last to sit down and Choi tried to see the bright side of the situation. At least if she was reasonably close to the door, she might run somewhere else if things started to run out of control — and out of control she meant witnessing some evil manifestation off the screen or something. The straw of the soda glass was stuck between her lips during the entire sequence of unnecessary trailers and advertisements, and Jinah even considered the possibility of actually watching that movie as a normal person, but then the following words came out before her eyes: "Based On Real Facts".

"Fuck, Jisung!" she complained, taking care not to speak as loudly as she wanted. "Why didn't you tell me that this shit really happened?"

"You said you weren't afraid."

"I-I..." Jinah thought for a moment and fell silent, regaining her composure. "I'm not afraid, I just don't like leaving my house uninformed," she lied.

Jisung laughed again, amused by all that, and murmured a "relax" before looking at the screen. The movie had just begun.

♡˖°

It was as if Jinah was a balloon about to burst with every new fright.

No matter how many times she looked at the clock, the minutes just didn't seem to go away. Her heart was so fast that she felt like an old woman with a tachycardia; her eyes didn't stop quietly anywhere and her nervous system was being extremely tested by Han, who laughed at her face every five minutes.

"I can also watch a horror movie, she said," Jisung mocked. "I wonder where that brave girl has gone now."

And even as she was about to ask for help, Jinah still wanted to support her fearless image: "I'm still fine, if you want to know."

"It's not what it looks like." Jisung put his hand on the girl's damp palm. "You're sweating, you're so nervous."

Choi would certainly say some tattered excuse, such as blaming the nonexistent heat, but, before she could open her mouth, the fucking idiot Nun reappeared just to put an end to the little self-control she still had and her first involuntary reaction was to squeal a little and squeezing Jisung's hand against hers, entwining their fingers without even realizing it, and then bringing close to her heart.

"I don't want anymore!" she whimpered.

The boy smiled and, even in the partial darkness, stopped to watch the girl's face as he felt the beating of her heart. It was undeniable the fact that he had found her beautiful from the first moment he laid eyes on hers, but he didn't always admire her details so closely. Jinah was sweet and sour in the right dose. Sometimes it sounded a bit childish, but it was captivating. Beautiful eyebrows, beautiful eyes, flawless smile, rosy lips; Jisung couldn't deny even to himself: she was beautiful at his sight.

"Why did you want to come, being so afraid of this kind of movie?" he asked without taking his eyes off Jinah's almost terrified face. Part of him wanted to hold her.

"'Cause I wanted to go out with you again" there was this detail: Choi didn't hide things when she got nervous.

"But we could go out anyway, you silly girl." Jisung got up and pulled the girl to do the same. "C’mon, let's eat something."

Jinah didn't protest and followed the boy out of the room. The funniest thing was that they were walking hand in hand around the mall as if they were a couple and only noticed it halfway to their chosen diner, which resulted in a minimally embarrassed Jisung and a half-annoyed Jinah cause she had lost the touch. After facing the queue of requests — Choi recovering from the trauma of the movie and Han teasing her —, they sat at a table by the window.

"How's the internship?" Jinah changed the subject, since she didn't want to talk about the events of minutes ago after having sworn that she'd never see another horror movie in her life. "I know it's only been three days, but do you feel well already?"

"Yes, it's interesting." Jisung took a sip of soda while his eyes searched the place to see if there was anyone he knew. "The only problem is that, sometimes, the people are too noisy."

"At least you're not in Changbin's place, who's going to start his next Monday. Imagine just having to put up with an entire classroom full of hyperactive kids." Jinah grimaced in disgust. She envied her friend's patience to deal with that sort of thing. "At the very least, I think I'd have a stroke."

"Does he really want to be a teacher?" Jisung frowned. "He'll scare the kids with his homicidal face."

"Of course not, Changbin's a baby inside."

"I don't know... This week even he was completely angry there in the store, just missing breaking everything."

"It must be because Jade and him were going through some problems, but now they're well again" Jinah glorified the heavens for that. It was horrible when the two of them weren't well, because a tense atmosphere settled in the apartment and everything seemed out of place. “The infamous jealousy."

Jisung shook his head in brief agreement and there was a pause in the conversation as they ate their sandwiches. Added to the topic of jealousy, it was a perfect loophole for him to begin to travel in his own thoughts and to bring up subjects he didn't want to revive, but which were always there, marking presence inside his head. Jinah soon noticed the boy's rapid change of mood.

"Are you thinking of her?" she asked cautiously and Jisung sighed. Han felt as if he could never be with Jinah without the shadow of Chaerin appearing between them as a barrier. He didn't want to ruin the night with his problems, but Choi was willing to listen to them, because, in her conception as a psychologist, you can't overcome anything by trying to choke it.

"No" Jisung lied and forced a slight smile. "It's just bullshit in my head."

"It's okay, you don't have to lie to me. You were like this after I told you about jealousy."

"We had a few crises," and before he could stop the words, Han was already venting. It wasn't his fault that talking to Jinah was so comfortable. "Or rather, I had a few crises..." another sigh. "Before I didn't realize it, but, looking better now, we haven't been well for a long time. It was a hard way to reach the last point."

"Can I ask how it happened? I mean, you say Chaerin ran away with another guy, but I wanted to get it right" Jinah knew she was stepping on eggshells by asking all those questions, but just kept insisting on them because the boy, however, didn't show any hesitation at the time of answering them.

"She had left home early that day" was the first time Jisung had spoken openly about it. He remembered hiding many details when he reported what had happened to Yoorim and Hyunjin. Not because he didn't trust his friends, but because he didn't feel comfortable enough. "I called and always fell in the mail box. She didn't even respond to the messages. She just came back at night, when I was already thinking that something serious had happened, she apologized before going to the room and packing" Jisung even would cry, but when it came to his ex-fiancée, his tears were already dry. "I asked what was going on, but she held the cry and didn't answer. Something told me it was a cry of guilt." rolled his eyes. "She left and I couldn't do anything. When I looked out the window I saw Seungmin's car and it was clear."

"So, you already suspected she might be having something with Seungmin before that happens?"

"Maybe" Jisung bit his lower lip for a moment. Even though it was complicated, he felt good talking about all those things that had been trapped in his throat for so long. "I had read some messages and noticed strange things, but it was always 'my head's thing'" he made quotations with his fingers, repeating what he heard so much from Chaerin's mouth whenever he asked about it. "But I can't feel as much anger at Seungmin as I wanted, after all, if Chaerin hadn't paid attention to him, we'd be fine now. It makes no sense to blame only the affair, because who really owed me respect didn't."

Jinah nodded, approving Jisung's way of thinking, so she wouldn't have the trouble to make him understand that part.

"When the two left," Han continued his account of the worst night of his life. "I felt the whole world fall on my back. It was difficult to clean up the mess of glass shards I made in the room, and, before I could ruin the whole kitchen too, I remembered the call center number. I meant to talk to Sorn, I think you know her." Jinah nodded again, smiling slightly as she remembered the Thai. "She had helped me a lot in the last few days, but it was you who answered this time. And by the way, the service wasn't one of the best," he joked, although he was telling the truth.

"I confess I felt a little bad for not having the standard treatment with you," Jinah admitted. "But I only started to act normally after I was sure you wouldn't do anything you could regret, otherwise I wouldn't have said so much bullshit. We would've extended the conversation if you hadn't turned it off."

"You threw it in my face that at least you hadn't been kicked by your fiancé, you wanted what?"

"But you did stress me first!" Jinah defended herself, patting the table as she remembered that Jisung had also thrown unnecessary things into her face. "I didn't return because I thought you wanted to be a little alone, or maybe you'd call again to talk to some other attendant, but, anyway, the idea of looking for you in college was already firmly in my head."

"I actually thought about calling again to talk to someone else, but your voice..." Jisung pressed his lips together as if he had no weapons to deal with. "It managed to calm me even by saying idiots."

"I realized you liked it" Jinah smiled. "So much that you must've wasted a good few minutes looking for my branch in the early morning."

"Just a few" Jisung smiled too. "Still, I thought you didn't care."

"You thought wrong. And I do care until today, you know that."

"Thank you, JinJin." Choi used all her willpower not to freak out when she heard Han call her that way without being drunk. "I don't even know how to thank you for all this."

"You could thank me by moving on," Jinah murmured, hesitantly for the first time. No one could blame her for looking at Jisung and feeling an overwhelming desire to kiss him, but not being able to do so, after all, the boy was still trapped in his old relationship. It wasn't as if she expected the love he felt for Chaerin to disappear overnight, but she believed he had to at least try, and Jinah was so willing to help him overcome all those bad things... "I know it's hard, but it's been almost a month. Life has to go on, don't you think?"

"With moving on," Jisung put his elbows on the table. "do you mean to get a good mood or open my heart to let other people in? Because, if it's the first choice, I think I'm already doing it."

"The two options sort of complete."

"I don't know, Jinah." Jisung ran a hand through his hair absently. Choi almost died without air. Why did he do that to her poor heart? "I don't want to be with someone while I love someone else, and it's not like I have too many suitors."

Jinah blushed, so much that it was impossible to hide from the boy.

"Wait..." Jisung's eyes widened. "Don't you-..."

"No! Of course not!" the girl had tried to fix it, but her face only turned redder. "Aish, don't start to misinterpret things!"

It wasn't the first time that Jinah had given him signals that shouldn't be given to mere friends, but Han always took it as a joke. However, since the small meeting at the home of Hyunjin and Yoorim, when Choi quietly asked for a kiss, a set of internal doubts struck Jisung. If Woojin was there, he'd probably tell him to stop being dumb and grab the opportunity, but, in his head, it wasn't as easy as it seemed.

"Sorry" he disguised as if he really had misunderstood and believed in the girl's acting. "Would you like some ice cream?"

He didn't even have to ask twice.

And as he looked at Jinah without her realizing it, Jisung wished, with all his heart, that he might correspond to her correctly someday.

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martinlawless · 3 years

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Velo-Schils BMCR Double Circuit Races

2 x Cat ABCD races 9 May 2021 Northern Gateway Sports Park, Colchester

The Northern Gateway Sports Park is a rubbish name for a really good brand new facility on the edge of Colchester. It features a one-mile cycle circuit loop. The Velo-Schils BMCR races there caught my eye as it was a chance to check it out.

This would be my first BMCR race and partly a plan to focus more and more on veteran’s racing, with a view to having a good go at some of the Vet 50+ races next year. The 30 spaces filled up pretty fast and I scanned the start list beforehand and did a crude calculation of who I might be able to get the best of, and who was better than me. My slide rule suggested I would be 14th.

I packed well in advance. It’s nice to feel prepared. However, with 48 hrs to go, my rear wheel decided to fail. It is on its last legs. Or maybe even finished. Luckily, a word out through Strava and I had several offers of a spare wheel. I also found time to see Richard in Ashwell for some TLC on the wheel to patch it up as best as could be done.

The drive over is quite long, but it’s very easy and I’m there without fuss. The facility is really new. It reminds me of Lee Valley Velodrome in some ways: layout and general buzz. The circuit has a similar vibe too.

The loop is really quite straightforward, making it fast. The bends are mostly gentle, it’s as good as flat, so every corner is attacked at speed. It is a flatter version of the Lee Valley circuit, without the dead-ish corner at the far end. An MK Bowl-Lee Valley lovechild. It does have an oddly sketchy chicane - near the finish line too. In itself not a bad challenge, but the run off is into chunky gravel and pretty certain disaster if you need to ride into it. I would recommend they fringe it with some safer rideable edges. Like they have at Lee Valley.

I arrive in good time, register and pin up and get a good 20 minutes easy rollering in. Mostly to wake the driving legs up. It’s warm with a light breeze for the first race. This would be a double race event. Each half-hour race, half an hour apart. I have brief chats with CC Luton’s Matt who I met at the Ashwell chaingang a few weeks ago. And I get to congratulate Valentino on his great 6th place at last weekend’s Hog Hill race. I twiddle away in the car park whilst watching the 60+ age category race and hope I’ll be as fit and fast as those guys one day in the future.

We set off on a neutralised lap. We’re going clockwise. I hear later that British Cycling won’t approve the course to go anti-clockwise. But can’t work out why. Going clockwise means hitting the chicane hard near the finish line and adds considerable drama.

We glide over the start line, the flag goes and we’re off and full gas. As I’ve literally never raced a millimetre of the nice tarmac, I choose to tuck inside the bunch for the first few laps to try and figure out the best lines. It’s a northerly wind and I get into a gliding rhythm of drifting from one side of the bunch line to the other in search of shade from the breeze. At times, the bunch seem indifferent to the optimal protection from the wind, which is good news to me. I find out that the first left bend is too tricky to try and jump on the inside. It’s too tight and you lose all your speed. The far bend that brings on the return leg is gentle and swooping and quite easy to find the right line except for when you get over the rise where you need to be careful not to clip off the left edge of the track. There’s a significant drop in height to the left. If you come off the track here, it would be interesting to see if you could claw back on OK.

The return leg of the lap is gentle in curve. This will most often be a headwind and possibly where a break would most commonly be made or consolidated.

Then, turning to the lap start/finish, there’s a chicane. If you’re not being observant, it will catch you out and you’re off into the heavy gravel stuff. Past here and it’s a dash to the line. Really short.

After a short while I’m conscious of the burn I’m making being at the back. Too much braking and surging. Wasted watts. I try and climb higher into the bunch and have an easier time. I notice many riders are not carrying a bottle but I do - to keep the airways clear and cool and to swig and signal when you want to communicate you’re not going to push hard on the front.

There are some great riders in the mix and I am aware my chances of any success lies in keeping it a bunch and going long at the end. There are some brave moves at a breakaway. But everyone is too fresh to let anything go. Having said that, in to the last lap and one rider has a certain gap while we others chase down the rest of the places. I have a good go at things with half a lap to go and find myself in a decent position where there’s good momentum. It seems it won’t be a slow - then manic surging - finish. My least favourite race finish. We swoop the final corner and everyone is pretty locked into their position. I have a clean run in and am happy to come in 10th, 4th in Age Category (B, 45-49).

We clear the course, there’s a bit of banter and I make my way back to the rollers for 10 minutes to keep the legs turning ahead of race 2. It’s now hotter. The bike computer is saying 26 degrees, with heat bouncing off the tarmac. It’s also significantly windier.

Fresh energy drink. Another gel. A little chewy bar. An apple. We’re off into race 2. I can feel the lack of freshness this time but also know that others will feel it too. It’s a relaxed start and one guy goes rogue over the chicane and cuts across the course, to prove his cyclo-cross skills and maybe to make a point on this pokey-out bit. Laughter over, it dials up. Soon, it’s hot wattage again. I feel like I’m in the Ashwell chaingang, “lap 3”, where it’s biting but doable. I can feel we’re dropping riders here and soon start to see some on the opposing part of the track. But I’m doing OK and enjoying learning the curves. At one point I see Valentino and a few others consolidate a break and think that looks good. I breathe in a make a burst over to them. I’m pleased to have made the leap. Unfortunately, my effort wasn’t quite a clean break and I pull the bunch with me too much. But, I’m pleased to have been able to apply this effort without too much trouble.

Fresh legs. My strategy to get to today with fresh legs looked like this:

Sunday, hard short Zwift crit, full beans for 22 mins.

Monday, easy 2.5hrs road ride

Tuesday, hard Ashwell chaingang, 1 hr 15 mins

Wednesday, hard Ashwell 10m TT, 23 mins 40 secs.

Thursday, nothing really. Home-made 40 mins HIT gym session, + 5k light run.

Friday, 20 miles easy morning tailwind ride. Was thinking about a Zwift crit too, but exhausted by a stressful day at work.

Saturday, nothing. Sports physio in the afternoon.

Sunday, racin’. 48hrs of fresh legs.

I enjoy the level-headedness of my co-riders. No stoopid moves. Though one rider does lurch to the left and I have to be evasive to avoid getting chopped. A Rapha CC rider observes this and raises his eyebrows at me and laughs, while I roll my eyes invisibly from behind my fancy new shades. Drama - but no drama - sort of thing. Grown ups.

OK. Last few laps. I don’t quite know how, but I read the lap counter wrong. On reflection, I may have read “3 laps to go” as the sign was being put out - not to announce it was actually “3 laps to go”. Anyway, for whatever reason, when I see the Colourtech rider, followed by the nippy Stow CC rider ping off the front with what I think is the final lap, I go with. I cross the line and hear the bell and don’t see the chequered flag. Oops. Racing is planning and opportunism. What to do now? Without much thought, I figure, I may as well give it full beans and see what happens. There are no points to score this season. Colourtech chap is significantly ahead and not interested in teaming up. Stow CC fella is burning up fast and I’m catching him. But I’m frazzling quickly too. The bunch are around 8-10 bike lengths behind. Into the headwind and I can see and feel this is a desperate attempt to beat the bunch. They are not relenting and I am dipping below 25mph. This is hopeless.

Stow elbows me to take the front but my help is feeble. Into the final big bend and I can hear the wheels of the bunch. I’m pedalling squares in the final short sprint and swamped. 11th, 4th in Age Category again (B, 45-49). Ah well. I had a go. This might have worked if I had been allowed to escape with half a lap to go. Something to think about for another time. It was good to pressure the bunch and I will think about such a move again in the future. I need to use my TT more in races.

Race over. We’re all done. I say bye to Mark, Valentino and several other of my competitors for the day and get home without fuss. I think about a celebratory McDonalds from the one opposite the park, but the 40 car queue puts me right off an it’s a bobbins Wild Bean Cafe BP garage americano and a banana and clementine from my food bag instead.

I look forward to more adventures here and more BMCR racing too.

Strava links: https://www.strava.com/activities/5266417763 https://www.strava.com/activities/5266971821

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losbella · 4 years

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elizabethcariasa · 4 years

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6 reasons to wait to file your taxes

Yes, that's a photo of my filing season mess, er, process, which explains why I never seem to be able to submit our joint Form 1040 early in the filing season. Getting your tax stuff together is just one of the reasons to not file early.

The Internal Revenue Service will start accepting 2019 tax year returns next Monday, Jan. 27.

A lot of folks already have filled out their 1040s and put them in the queue for IRS processing next week. Good for them. Their annual tax task is done.

But there also are some reasons why you might not want to be among the tax season's first filers. Here are six.

1. To make sure you have all your tax statements. If the only data you need to file is from your job's Form W-2, then you probably can (and should) file as soon as you can. But wait for that W-2. Using your year-end paycheck stub may not accurately reflect annual earnings or the amount of other taxable compensation or the taxes you had withheld. Using that sketchy information could mean your tax return would be wrong.

Plus, a lot of folks get a lot more tax statements than just a W-2. These documents not only have data necessary to properly fill out a tax return, but they also are copied to the IRS.

Most these documents are supposed to at least be in the mail (snail or electronic) to you by Jan. 31. Some issuers are on the ball, getting the data out early in the new year. Others, however, are slow. Or your U.S. Postal Service branch or carrier has issues. Or the document went into your junk/spam box and you didn't check before you deleted everything.

Give those third-party form issuers some time. If you haven't gotten them by the middle of February, then contact them and ask for it to be reissued. And you definitely need that correct, official info because, as noted earlier, the IRS gets a copy of these statements. Agency workers will flag your return if it doesn't match the information that the IRS got via the statements but that you didn't report.

Patience also is required if you get any of the tax documents that aren't on the Jan. 31 delivery schedule. In fact, these usually aren't issued until well into the filing season or even beyond.

This is the case with K-1 forms issued for partnerships, LLCs and S corporations, which don't have to be sent until March 15. If you need a K-1 to file, there's no way to do so until you get it.

Filing without the correct information means delayed processing, slowed refunds, an amended return filing and dealing with the IRS much more than you ever wanted.

2. To make sure you have all other tax information. Formal tax statements you need to file your taxes are issued in many cases, but not all. For example, 1099-MISC forms for contract work you did as full-time job or to supplement your regular salaried work don't have to be issued if your total pay was less than $600.

You being an honest taxpayer, however, still need to report that $599 your neighbors paid you for taking those great photos of their son's first birthday party. Check your records to make sure you report all of this type of income.

Also make double check that you have all the details on potential tax breaks, such as medical expenses if you're still itemizing and claiming these costs. Or the expenses you paid for the care of your young children so you could work. You need these amounts — as well as the caregiver's tax identification number — to claim the child and dependent care credit.

Again, if you find such income or expenses after you file, well, you know the drill.

3. To sort through your filing's complexities. If you're one of the taxpayers who gets lots of tax statements, that's an indication your return is more complex. And the more complicated your taxes are, the greater the chances that you'll screw them up if you're in a hurry to file.

If you have more involved taxes — multiple jobs (either full-time or gigs on the side to supplement your main work's wages) or your own business or investments or a big, messy family — you need time to sort through all the related tax implications. In these cases, it's a good idea to start your return early, but then take your time contemplating your tax and filing choices and carefully reviewing the return before sending it to the IRS.

There's another complexity factor that’s beyond your control: the tax laws.

Although we made it through last year, the first filing season under the many Tax Cuts and Jobs Act (TCJA) changes, some things still are in flux. There's still plenty of confusion about the 20 percent tax deduction for some small businesses. Even tax forms are still being tweaked. The new individual Form 1040 and associated schedules, for example, have a different look this year. If you use tax software, it should help you deal with these changes, but these new issues still could complicate your filing.

4. To allow you to find a tax professional. You've taken a close look at your big, convoluted tax life and have decided it's time to turn it over to a professional. Good idea, but not one to be taken lightly or quickly.

You'll need to spend time to determine the type of tax pro that best fits your needs. Then you must thoroughly check out potential tax preparer candidates. That takes time to do correctly, but in the long run, it's well worth it.

5. To ensure you understand your return. I know, most of us just want the filing over with ASAP. I get it.

The hubby and I have been married for a long time, during which I've always done our taxes. And every year when I tell him what I've done as far as our 1040, he wants to brush it off with a "I trust you." I'm glad he does, but I still insist he at least fake listening to my explanations.

It's important that he know what's on the return because when all of us taxpayers sign our 1040s, either with a real John Hancock or an electronic signature, we all are attesting to the return's accuracy.

That's true even if you paid a tax preparer to do the job. The ultimate legal responsibility is yours. And if like the hubby and I you file a joint return, the responsibility is on both of you, even when one spouse did the actual filling out of the forms.

So if you have questions about why a deduction was or wasn't claimed or how come your tax bill was bigger this year than last, ask. Ask your tax software's help option if that's how you're doing your taxes. Ask your tax preparing spouse. Ask your tax professional. And ask until it's totally clear.

6. To get your return right. All the previous tax procrastination situations lead up to this one. Once is enough when it comes to filing. If you're too eager to file your taxes, you might have to do them again because in your rush you didn't include necessary information or made a mistake.

A mistake on a return, such as overlooking some income or a deduction, means you'll need to correct it by filing previously mentioned and usually dreaded amended return (Form 1040X) as soon as you discover it.

Things can get even stickier when it's the IRS that finds your filing faux pas. And you can bet the tax agency will, eventually. In fact, if you make a 1040 mistake, you want the IRS to find it quickly. The longer the tax error sits there, the more tax penalties and interest on what you owe adds up.

But by letting your original return sit there just a bit before you file it, you provide yourself time to take another look. Such review can be valuable.

I've been a professional writer my whole adult (and a bit before) life. Much of that time, I've been writing about taxes. Over the years, I've discovered that writing and filing taxes have something in common. Often, as soon as you're done, you see something you want to change.

It's not too difficult to change an article or blog post. Just call your editor or open your blog publishing tool and make the revision. It's not so easy with taxes (that darn amended return again).

So after you do your return, be it the first week of filing season or closer to April 15, take a break. Step back and go on about the rest of your life. Then come back to your return and look it over. Fresh eyes often make a mistake suddenly seem amazing obvious. Since you haven't sent in your 1040 yet, you can correct it.

Don't miss the April due date: The above six reasons discuss why you shouldn't be in a big tax filing hurry.

However, they in no way advocate that you miss the April filing deadline.

Take as much time as you need to file your taxes completely and accurately. Just do it by the due date. Get your return — or at least an extension — filed by then.

More importantly, pay any taxes due, by the April deadline.

If you don't and then file a return late, that's a whole other set of problems … and another tax blog post!

You also might find these items of interest:

6 reasons to file your taxes early

IRS Free File now open for the 2020 tax season

10 reasons to file a tax return even if you don't have to