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jesuisgourde · 3 years

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gay/queer references in Peter’s journals

Again, I have probably missed stuff due to going through pretty quickly and also due to having stared at this document for so long, everything has kind of blurred together.

Sometime close to the day that Carlos & I watched 'Love And Death on Long Island' (and afterwards paraded through the tea rooms of Picadilly) we both filled in application forms and were tres excited to be invited to the same group 'interview' - twas more like an audition though. I got the part. Carlos never. This did not bring any animosity - we both know that success for either of us is magnified a million times if it is shared by us both.

from 'A Diamond Guitar' by Truman Capote "Except that they did not combine their bodies or think to do so, though such things were not unknown at the (Prison), they were as lovers. Of the seasons, spring is the most shattering: stalks thrusting through the earth's winter-stiffened crust, young leaves cracking out on old left-to-die branches, the falling asleep wind cruising through all the newborn green. And with Mr Schaeffer it was the same, a breaking up, a flexing of muscles that had hardened. It was late January. The friends were sitting on the steps of the sheep house, each with a cigarette in his hand. A moon thin and yellow as a piece of lemon rind curved above them, and under its light, threads of ground frost glistened like silver snail trails. Tico Feo had been drawn into himself - silent as a robber waiting in the shadows."

Then a meet with Bounds Green's African prince outside whitechapel tube, rugged lookies at I in military attire & to a ruptured Albion rooms tidied in hours and now lids drawn heated on the eyes. A young looking fella has a crush on me.

Jackie/Camillia/Marie/Kate/Chris/V. churchill Jackie/Evelina/Jasmine/Sachi/Dalston/Sussie Sandra/Carlene/FP/Jay/Dalston/Kraut

There sat a young black man, perhaps in his early or middle twenties. He looked for all the world like the archetypal rude boy. Clean, cheap reebok, nike, adidas variously rolled, laced & zipped about his lean, spreadeagled body that hung loosely about the waiting room chair. Gold & tattoos adorned his person, and a blank animal look was attached to his clear face. He sat before me in a row of four empty chairs, staring at polished floor or the mundane television. A balding white man minced in & all perceptions were suddenly proven to be false as they embraced and snuggled up to each other, giggling & whispering & touching each others noses.... very much in love, fingers crossed for the blood tests.

[Image: an article from Gay Times of an interview with Peter. For some reason, the portrait included alongside the article is of Carl wearing a grey and black t-shirt.] Name? Peter Doherty Age? 22 Where are you? I'm on the motorway just north of Southampton. What kind of day are you having? (Vaguely) Erm... quite misty. Something's waiting around the corner, but there are no corners on the motorway, so we'll just have to wait and see what lies ahead. Maybe something will happen tonight.... What's this we hear about you once being a rent boy? Well, when times are hard, duty calls. How long ago was it? When I was 19, about three years ago. How do we know this isn't just a Shaun Ryder-type lie? 'Cause if it was, it would make me a complete scumbag and I'm not, and I'm not interested in that kind of pantomime. It wasn't a very happy time. I didn't really enjoy it. Why did you give it up? (grimly) Well, certain people disappeared... and anyway, ultimately I found myself no longer in such a vulnerable position anymore. Dawn broke, and I realised that it was a beautiful world after all. Have you done any other dodgy jobs? All of us in the band have tried to deal, but it's not good if you like the drugs too much. You just end up using them yourself! I once was a gravedigger. I used to do it with my mate in Willesden Green cemetery. We didn't actually do the digging, a machine did that, but we used to have to fill them in. It was pretty grim work. So are you gay then? Love is love, wherever it comes from. I'm not anything, really. I am a very sexual person but... I dunno, I believe in liberty... The Marquis de Sade has a lot to answer for... Do you get a lot of gay fans? Yeah - well, there's one guy in particular. He's very shy and he follows us around. He brings in letters and cards and stuff, but he's very quiet. I think John (the bassist) is the main pulling power in the band. Are you jealous about that? Nah! I've known him too long.

You know I'm alright i dont even care i like it when they stare & stare call me queer, dear oh dear a million things & what I wear He's real hard when he's with his mates but I'll saw him again & he was too late

Dear NME I'd have thought after the Gay Times piece, the interview with Rapture fanzine & our recent gig at the Slum Club everything would be clear. No it still remains to give a big hearty fuck off to all these twisted suburban types calling me a liar. Vulnerable young men & women all over the world find themselves victims of circumstance.

she was dressed in suit & tie & lightly etched-on moustache. 'I've always wanted to kiss a bird in the back of a taxi.' she says, running her hand up the fishnet ladders of my thigh. Stepping onto the front line in Bow puddles, elevators, buzzing doors,

[Image: the original page in the book has been preserved. Two paragraphs have been boxed off with biro. They read:] “...cast Richard Burton and Rex Harrison as bickering queer barbers and then much more uncompromisingly in William Friedkin's adaptation of The Boys in the Band (1970), which introduced some of the plainer four letter words in the English language to the screen for the first time. 'Who,' asks Cliff Gorman, in his brilliant portrayal of the most effeminate of the homosexual group as they gather for a soul-searching party, 'Who do you have to fuck to get a drink around here?' Other homosexual manifestations to occur in movies around this time included an elliptical but unmistakeable male fellatio scene in John Schlesinger's Midnight Cowboy (1969) when Jon Voight, as a broke and disillusioned Texas stud importunes in a New York cinema....”

[Image, top left: a blurry photo of John onstage, playing bass. Image, top right, sideways: a photo of the band onstage. Carl and John are on the left, sharing a mic. Peter is on the right, playing guitar and singing into his own mic. Image, centre left: a torn photo of Peter sitting in a chair, shirtless, playing guitar. Only his bottom half from the chest down is visible. Image, centre left: a torn photo of Peter sitting in a chair, shirtless, playing guitar. Only his top half from shoulders up is visible. Image, bottom left: a torn fragment of a photo. What looks like a denim-clad knee and a yellow carrier bag are visible. Image, bottom middle: a photo of someone's knee in torn jeans, taken from under a table. Image, bottom right: a torn photo of Carl in a black sleeveless shirt, posing with his fingers in his mouth.] [A paragraph from the original page of the book has been left exposed and boxed off with black biro. It reads:] “The Boys in the Band was displaced by an immeasurably more powerful portrayal of homosexual groups, Fortune and Men's Eyes (1971). Set in a Quebec prison, this disturbing, factually based drama vividly recounted the corrupted of a heterosexual convict trapped in a tough, potentially vicious homosexual society. In one horrifying scene, a weak, put-upon prisoner is gang-banged by his fellow inmates; in another, the 'hero' is blackmailed by his cellmate into accepting him as his lover for the duration...”

Like a cat on a hot tin roof Like a macho man in a roomful of poofs I have tried in my way to be free.

[Written in Peter's handwriting] Jerome... is that how it's spelt? [Written in someone else's handwriting] Yes it is [Written in Peter's handwriting] Can I read you something? [Written in someone else's handwriting] Yes please.....

I insist, new book of Albion, befuddled by drugs I may yes about 2 but I do not miss out entirely on the subtleties of the inhuman relation ships that are this the mainstay of my stay here in one bounce of a loaf. Boys are fooled into fooling with boys. [...]

More general references/some extra explanations:

“The boy looked at Johnny” is a line from Patti Smith's song “Horses,” part one of a three-part song called “Land.” In the song, a young man named Johnny is assaulted by another man in a locker room; he then mentally journeys to other fantastical lands and visions. A lot of people interpret it as being about gay sex, although some people interpret it as being about a stabbing.

Peter quotes and references Jean Genet's writing and works about Jean Genet many times. While Genet's works are nearly all about crime and prison (one of Peter's main interests and points of fascination), all of his works are very explicitly gay. The Thief's Journal is more about Genet's various lovers than it is about his criminal history. Our Lady Of The Flowers is about a drag queen and her criminal lovers, and is also extremely erotic.

(“Jerome” is Jerome Alexandre, vocalist of The Deadcuts, who was friends with Peter and Mark Keds.)

#squash transcribes books of albion #peter doherty #feel free to request compilations of other kinds too

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barnesandrogersfanfics · 4 years

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Ocean Eyes - Part 11

A/N- OMG i finally updated!!

Please like/comment/share if you like this. Seeing that people are actually enjoying this fic makes me wanna write more lol 💕💕

I got next to no sleep, i just laid in bed going over and over the things Chris had said....was he being serious?? or was it the alcohol talking??

Finally giving up on sleep at 5:30am i got up and dressed and decided i needed to talk to someone about all this. When i went downstairs i made a cup of tea and grabbed Chris's coat from the back of the chair then headed outback, Dodger following behind me.

I walked down to the pool area and sat down at the table and chairs that were next to it where i was far enough away from the house to have a private conversation. I unlocked my phone smiling at the photo of Chris, Scott and Mason before scrolling to my recent contacts and hitting call.

"Hello" she answered after two rings.

"Hey ma, i didnt wake you did i?"

"No sweetheart, you know me I've been up since 5am"

"Thats because you're crazy" i chuckled.

"why are you up this early? This is very unlike you"

"Ive not really slept..... mom something happened with Chris last night and i'm kinda freaking out...."

"Oh god please tell me you haven't slept with him already....."

"No! Jesus Ma...."

"Thats good, so what happened?"

"Well after Mason went to bed last night i stayed up with Chris and Scott, we had a few drinks and just hung out you know? Everything was fine until Scott went to bed" i started explaining shaking my head, i told her all about Chris ending things with his girlfriend, about him getting jealous about Derek and then i dropped the kicker.... Chris confessed to still loving me and wanting a second chance!

"Wow, thats alot to take in"

"Tell me about it! Ive been up all night going over it again and again"

"So what did you tell Chris?"

"I just said that we needed to talk about this when we were both sober. I mean he could wake up and forget he even said any of this to me last night"

"Would you still bring it up if he does forget?"

"I don't know Ma, i don't know what to do"

"Only you can answer that, i can't tell you the right thing to do here baby. All i know is that you have loved that man since i can remember, even when he left and broke your heart you still loved him"

"You love who you love right?.... i just feel like an idiot" i mumbled picking at the sleeve of Chris's coat nervously.

"You're not an idiot"

"I feel like one!"

"Just talk to him, take things slow.... maybe use this time together to get to know eachother again before you decide on anything. Also, just remember this effects Mason now"

"Thats what makes it worse ma" i quickly wiped away a tear that rolled down my face, Dodger came over putting his face in my lap and i smiled as i scratched behind his ear. When i looked up my breath caught when i saw Chris slipping out the sliding door and heading my way.

"Shit, he's coming over.... i gotta go Ma. I'll call you later"

"Okay sweetheart, good luck.... deep breaths, i love you"

"Love you too, bye".

I locked my phone and placed it on the table before wrapping Chris's coat tighter around me. Dodger spotted Chris and went bounding over to him excited to see him up and about.

"Morning, you're up early" he said before sitting in the chair beside me.

"Morning, i couldn't sleep. Thought id call my mom to check in"

"All the way out here?"

"Its early i didn't want to wake anyone up" i shrugged picking up my tea taking a mouthful.

"You sure thats all it was?"

"Mmhmmm"

"You're not hiding from me after last night?" He raised his eyebrows at me questioningly.

"So you remember what you said last night?"

"Of course, i wasn't that drunk" he scoffed reaching for my tea and helping himself to a few mouthfuls.

"Im not hiding, just.... thinking"

"About?"

"About what the fuck i'm supposed to do!"

"Do you love me?" He suddenly asked making me look up at him, into those eyes.... damn him!

"What?"

"Do you still love me? Its a simple question babe"

"Its not a simple answer Chris" i shrugged "i mean of course i do but i just..... the way you treated me before.... how do i know that wont happen again?"

"It wont i promise! I know how bad i messed up...."

"You say that now but i can't help but worry about you changing your mind.

You broke my heart when you left me and now we have Mason to think about.... i don't want him getting hurt if this doesn't work out again".

"So your answer's no? You wont give me a second chance?" He asked sadly his eyes tearing up, i forgot how emotional he could get.

"Maybe we should just spend this time together, get to know each other again and go from there?" I said taking my mom's advise.

"So you're not ruling it out completely? Its not a hard no?"

"Im saying maybe, just... baby steps" i smiled over at him and he nodded smiling back at me as he reached over and took my hand.

"I promise you i wont let you down again, i wanna be the man you deserve and the dad that Mason deserves"

"Id like that a lot, even though i hated you for what you did... i still missed you"

"I know, i missed you too"

"Lets go in im freezing" i said getting up, Chris was suddenly standing and pulling me into his arms holding me tight.

"Chris..." i mumbled into his chest as my hands landed on his waist.

"Im sorry i just needed to hold you"

I sighed and wrapped my arms around him... as nervous as this made me it felt so good to be in his arms again.

"I'll make things right again i promise" he mumbled pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

The weeks were flying by and we were all still in lockdown, it was now May and there was no sign of anything changing just yet.

Chris was doing a lot of online interviews to promote his new show 'Defending Jacob', when these video chats took place Scott and I made sure to take Mason to another part of the house so he wouldn't interrupt.

Things with Chris and I had been going good, we wouldn't act any differently around Mason but once he was in bed we'd snuggle on the sofa.... we'd shared a few kisses here and there but thats as far as it had gone.

"Mom can we take Dodger for a walk?" Mason came running in from the backyard with Dodger diving on the sofa next to me.

"You better go ask your dad buddy"

"Dad!!!!" Mason yelled loudly making me laugh.

"Why are you yelling?? i'm right here" Chris said walking in from the kitchen with coffee's. Mason chuckled cuddling up to me suddenly going all silly.

"Why you getting all shy?" I asked as i run my fingers through his hair.

"I don't know" he mumbled hiding his face against me, Chris sat down next to him and picked him up pulling him into his lap.

"Whats up pal? Why was you calling me?"

"Mom said i had to ask you if we can take Dodger for a walk"

"Sure we can! Why don't you go get your shoes on and grab Dodgers leash while your mom and i finish our coffee then we'll go"

"Yes!! thank you dad!" Mason wriggled down from Chris's lap and run upstairs to the room he'd been staying in.

"Maybe it'll wear him out enough that he has a nap, kid has too much energy!" I said looking over at Chris.

"He loves walking Dodger thats all"

"So do i but not this much! Poor Dodge is probably begging for a rest!"

"He's fine, we'll just walk up the road a bit throw the ball around... we don't have to be gone long"

"I guess"

"You coming with us?"

"Yeah why not".

We walked Dodger as promised and let him and Mason run around playing fetch. Chris took me by surprise by grabbing hold of my hand pulling me close enough to kiss me.

"Hey! We said not in front of Mace...."

"He's not looking its fine" he laughed "so, i was thinking maybe you could stay in my room tonight?"

"And what if Mason catches us??"

"We'll say we're having a sleepover" he smirked.

"You're terrible!"

"You didn't say no though" he wriggled his eyebrows at me.

"I didn't say yes either. Mace, come on Bud we're heading back" i called out stepping away from Chris even though all i wanted to do was pounce on him!

As i looked over to where Mason and Dodger were playing i spotted a familiar car parked across the street outside of the gated area.

"You've got to be shitting me....."

"Whats wrong?"

"Thats Brian's car out there"

"What?!!! Are you sure?"

"Yeah"

"Im gonna kick this guys ass i swear to god...." Chris said as he started to storm towards Brian, i quickly grabbed his arm pulling him back.

"Lets just go back inside, call the police. I don't want you getting into trouble over that jackass. Just get Mason and Dodger and lets go. He cant get in here"

"Okay.... okay lets go" he whistled for Dodger who came bounding over followed by an out of breath Mason and we walked back up to the house locking ourselves safely inside while Chris called and reported Brian.

Everything taglist: @jesseswartzwelder @dumblani @barnesandrogersworld @patzammit @rynabarnesrogers-reading @rainbowkisses31 @rororo06 @supernaturalwintersoldier @fairlightswiftly @hiddelstannerbarnes

Ocean eyes: @supraveng @michelehansel @melissaglenn5 @denisemarieangelina

@mrsjeffwittek @mery-be @marvelfansworld @cmalass @capstopavenger @fallenoutofrose @kelbabyblue @biebsmylife95 @loser-alert @traceyaudette @w3lissax @jennmurawski13 @ford66steal @saiyanprincessswanie @christocrave

@jakiki94 @torntaltos @my-dearest-agent @buchanansebba @ms-betsy-fangirl

#chris evans #chris evans x reader #reader insert #steve rogers #captain america #ocean eyes

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controloffandoms · 3 years

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Buck Begins Fic Recs

For @thisissirius

Here are a couple of fics that I have written. And I’ll probably add a couple of favorites that I’ve read along the way!

Nothing I Ever Did Was Good Enough

Buck bit his tongue, looking away from his father. It was too early in their get together to have a blow out. He especially didn’t want to have that blowout in front of Chim and Albert. “You know, firefighting, until recently, has had a huge amount of off duty suicides due to improper care of mental health. The department has changed to help firefighters through hard times of losing patients or families in fires by hiring departmental psychologists and having service animals available for visits to the firehouses after really tough calls. If someone isn’t in the right mindset, we could lose more people, not to mention our own people and that person. Mental health is no joke,” Albert stated. Buck had to hide is smile, but he turned to Albert, giving him a knowing look and small smile. His parents spluttered for a few seconds before Phillip turned to Albert. “I don’t think I was talking to you. Mind your own business, this was a family matter.” “Don’t talk to him like that,” Buck nearly growled. “He is family.”

~~Or the one where the parents visit and Buck is in over his head...luckily his family has his back.

~~~~Part 1 in the Nothing I Ever Did Was Good Enough series

Nothing I Ever Did-

~~~~Part 2 in the Nothing I Ever Did Was Good Enough series

"Watch your attitude, Evan," Margaret glared. "Why should I? All you've ever done is put me down and compare me to Maddie and try to make me into her. News flash, I'm my own person and I'm different! I get that nothing I ever did was good enough, but I don't have to keep trying to appease you and let you walk on me or my family. So if you could kindly drop the attitude and rude comments regarding Eddie and Christopher, it would be much appreciated. They invited you into their home and you've been nothing but assholes since you got here! Clearly you came here with opinions and baggage and a want to have your way, but that's not going to fly here. You best just head out of town tonight, you're not wanted here in my life or Maddie's life. We don't want your toxicity melting into our families because I'll be damned if the shit you've said tonight will ever affect my niece or my kid!"

~~Or the one where Eddie hosts the Buckley parents and just tries to be supportive in general...but the parents are nightmares. Featuring cuddles with Chris, Eddie, and Buck.

Not The One You Wanted

“Evan, I don’t know what you expected us to do.”

“Love me anyway,” it had been said like his heart had been ripped out...which, it felt like it had. Because that was the truth, wasn’t it...all he ever wanted was for them to love him anyway. He wanted his parents to give a damn about him but they never did...it was like he was a responsibility that they never wanted.

Maddie had said that their parents had been different back then when they were sentimental and made a box for her...and now Buck knew why. Daniel. His older brother Daniel...a brother that he didn’t even know existed until he sat down with Maddie to look at all the baby photos in the box...and there were plenty...Buck can hardly remember ever getting portraits like these done during his childhood….but his parents were different back then.

-OR- Evan Buckley deserves love and hugs because of how shitty his parents are.

*This is honestly one of my favorites that I’ve written...it’s like a character study while Buck was trapped in the warehouse with some liberties surrounding the reason Buck’s in the warehouse*

Secrets

He’d been lied to his whole life...Maddie had never thought to tell him about not being his actual sister...his parents were acting like it didn’t matter...like he should just get over it. Buck’s eyes met Chim’s...and his whole body went rigid. “You knew,” he whispered, looking directly at Chim. “You knew and you didn’t tell me?!” He rounded on his sister, “you told him, but not me?!”

“Evan, I was trying to protect you-”

“No, you don’t get to do that! You don’t get to try and protect me! I’m a grown ass adult, I deserved to know but instead of telling me, you told him and even though I’ve known him longer he still didn’t tell me!” Buck shook his head, backing from the room. “I can’t do this,” he whispered.

-OR- Buck finds out the secret Maddie's been keeping from him while his parents are visiting...he is understandably betrayed.

*Basically, Buck Begins and the Daniel scenes hadn’t happened yet and I wanted to know what the secret was, so I came up with this.*

Ambush of the Parents

Based off the new Promo (or the one I just saw) where we see Maddie, Chim, Albert, Buck and (who I believe) are Buck and Maddie’s Parents. Buck’s dad says “you’ve been seeing a therapist?” and Buck responds “Well, the job can be stressful.”

Disclaimer: Please don't read if verbal abuse from parents triggers you.

~~~~Or Buck’s parents are absolutely horrible and Buck’s family defends him.

Buck Begins

Buck always tried to please his parents. He wanted to be recognized and loved. He tried to get their approval but it was never enough. *Includes flashbacks, this was before Season 4 was even in production*

~Evan had thought that the SEALs would make his parents proud. He tried out for the SEALs, he went through training, but it still wasn’t enough. Then he’d dropped out. That had been the icing on the cake. Evan had never had a big blowout with his parents. He’d always tried to appease them. He tried to be the perfect son…but they never thought he was good enough. So when he dropped out of the SEALs, having a shouting match with his father as a consequence, he left for South America. He bartended and had fun. Then he’d gone to LA and became a firefighter and he hadn’t contacted his parents since the blowout.

Here are some fic recs that are not my own works

double vision wrapped in last night’s party clothes by amirlywritingfanficnow

"I have always been honest with you." When Eddie's voice cracks, Buck's composure almost cracks with it. "Why can't you just be honest with me?"

When Buck is let in on a long kept family secret, he doesn't know what to do. He almost ruins things with the one person that keeps him from feeling like he's floating away with no way to land, but it ultimately turns out okay with help of a little communication.

*This one pulled at my heart strings a little*

but i leave it in my heart, cause I don’t want to stay in the dark by neoncrayolas

Buck hadn't meant for the confession to come out like it did. He'd wanted it to be more eloquent and not so full of snot and tears.

But once it was out, there was no going back.

Or, part character study of Buck, part coda to 4x05.

*Basically, Buck isolates himself, Eddie gets worried, and Buddie is endgame

Learning to Breathe by TearsThisSideofHeaven

Boy, he thinks as the city lights blur a little in his vision, my therapist is going to have a field day with this.

*Short little fic that delves into Buck’s emotions with Eddie trying to support him

Finally Safe by WinterLioness

In the aftermath of finding out a family secret Buck finds himself going to Eddie. Christopher and Eddie use their Diaz charm to help.

*This picks up on the emotions Buck feels not only because of the family secret but because Maddie kept it from him (not full on hate, but what any normal person would need to work through) and Eddie is there to support him. Features cuddles with the Diaz Boys.

Not Related to the story line of 9-1-1 but has a whole ‘Buck Begins’ vibe because I was world building: The Life We Live

*The Old Guard AU no one asked for* "Athena had seen many a millennium and many men, women, and children die. She had seen the rise and fall of civilizations. She had felt the pain of loneliness and the happiness of community...but she’d never, in her many years of living, seen something like Eddie, Buck, and Chris. She’d never seen this profound of a bond, even between herself and Bobby. After Buck lost Abby and, later, Ali, Athena wasn’t sure he would have let his heart reach out to another person that he could lose...but she was proud of him. He built something that was hard to come by in their way of living. He built a home."

*I’m really proud of this one, it turned out well*

Not Related to the Story Line of 9-1-1, Fics by others!

Please Don’t Say You Love Me (because I might not say it back) by Queerfeministdork

"Say I love you loud, and say I love you often. It was an easy sentiment, and it was a beautiful background picture. But something clenched tightly in Buck’s chest when he saw it flash open as he handed Hen her phone. Because he knew it was a simple thing for most people, that most people could just let those three little words slip out without a care. But he couldn’t. They always got caught in his throat, stuck behind his chest. Tamped down before he could think to breathe them out."

Buck always wished he could just say the words. Turns out, maybe people just know.

*Basically, Buck can’t say ‘I Love You’ as easily as everyone else and panics about it...but eventually, everyone understands.

everything is blue by amirlywritingfanficnow

When Evan Buckley is ten, he discovers nail polish.

In which Buck paints his nails, Eddie is flustered, and May is a matchmaker.

*Basically Buck and Eddie saying fuck toxic masculinity. Buck enjoying painting his nails and Eddie is definitely in love with him.

Coming Home To You by kariberri13

The 118 want to know more about Buck, but the man won't give them many details. That is until the biggest detail walks through the station's bay doors.

*Not focused on his past, but a different story focusing on the fact that Buck is married to Eddie and has a kid that he didn’t tell the Fire fam about.

There are tons more, but this is what I could think of off the top of my head!

Hope you like them!

#buck begins fic recs #buck begins #fanfiction writing #9-1-1 #evan buckley #buddie #evan buckley x eddie diaz #eddie diaz #christopher diaz #the buckley parents #fic recs #for thisisserious #longish post

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ella-se-vuelve-loca · 4 years

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Chapter 23

I’m so sorry for missing last week! I forgot - honest mistake! You guys have been wanting to know what’s been inside (Y/N)’s package for so long, so I won’t keep you waiting any longer! I hope you enjoy chapter 23!

Grand Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Previous Chapter

(Y/N)’s P.O.V.

Out with the old and in with the new.

I think it’s time to redecorate my room and throw some things away. I haven’t really taken down any photos of me and Joel since the whole breakup but it’s been a long time coming.

I feel like I could hear his name now and no longer feel the need to cry. Yes, it still hurts, but it’s gotten easier for the simple fact that I haven’t seen him in months.

I know he’s sorry for what he did, but it still doesn’t change what happened. We’ve got our own lives to live and he’s obviously way too busy to be with someone. Besides, Johann has been a good friend to me in helping me get over him. It’s better this way… right?

Mi abuela once told me that if I can’t get someone out of my head, then maybe it’s because they’re supposed to be there. My heart still reaches out for him, but my head tells me to just let it go already.

Why must I be stuck in this dilemma?

I went straight to my closet and looked through clothes and shoes I didn’t want anymore. I need a wardrobe change anyways, so I’ll just buy something new next time I go out shopping. I folded them up and put them inside a box I had on top of my bed.

Victoria has been really hesitant to talk to me about Chris since he’s friends with Joel, but I keep telling her not to worry about me and that she can tell me anything and everything about the two of them.

Little by little, she’ll open up and tell me all about their late night talks and the things he has planned for them when he comes back home from tour.

It makes my heart smile at the thought of one of my best friends finding love in an unexpected place. It makes me wish that Joel and I were still together and on good terms, but I know that can’t happen.

I’m happy she found someone and I just hope that he’ll love her right.

I walked over to my little vanity and grabbed a spray bottle, watering the flowers Johann had brought to my house recently. Ever since my birthday, he’s been coming by with all sorts of gifts and new flowers every few weeks.

It’s sweet of him to do that and bring more pop of color into my home, but I don’t need flowers to know that he cares. I leaned down and took a whiff of the beautiful scent, bringing a small smile onto my face as I pulled away. They’re gorgeous.

I sighed and grabbed some old trinkets of mine and tossed them into the box. When I’m done clearing out the things I don’t want, I’ll just send these off to Goodwill. Someone out there will have a better use for it then I will.

I grabbed picture frames and laid them on the bed, getting ready to replace them with new and updated photos of me and my friends but I stopped once I saw a photo of me and Joel when we were at the carnival together.

I frowned and traced his face with my fingertip as I thought back to all of the good times we’ve had together.

None of it was fake for me. Nothing was just for pretend or some sort of game. It was real. My feelings for him were real. I shook my head and took out the photo.

The quicker I get rid of this, the quicker it will be to get over him.

I got down on my knees and reached under my bed for a box I keep all my photos in, but was surprised when I took out something I haven’t seen in a few months. “Oh.. hello there..” I mumbled to myself. “I completely forgot about you..”

It was the random package I got for my birthday earlier this year, still unopened. I looked around my room, debating if I should open it now and see what lies inside this mystery box.

I mean… it couldn’t hurt to peek, right? It was sent to me afterall. I looked down at the package in front of me and slid my hand across the top, collecting itty bitty dust bunnies. It’s been a few months.. I think it’s about time I see what’s inside. The weird message still lay on top.

‘Only meant for your eyes’?

What kind of surprises lie for me in there?

I stood up and went to grab a pair of scissors and sat back down on my floor, bringing the package on top of my thighs and slowly tearing open the tape on top.

What’s so special about this gift anyway?

“C’mon (Y/N), it can’t be that bad…” I lifted up the lid of the box and found smaller boxes inside. “Hmm… it doesn’t look dangerous, so that’s a plus.” I placed the package down next to me and reached inside, lifted one of the boxes up to my chest and opened it.

I softly gasped as I looked at the small photos of me and Joel that were hung up on a string, displayed so simple and perfectly.

It showed pictures of when we were making silly faces at his camera when we were under the willow tree. When we went bowling together and I completely destroyed his ass and won… one where we went mini golfing and we were in his element… our carnival date… and random ones he took of me when I wasn’t even looking at him.

I was reminded why I fell in love with him just looking back at these memories he had printed for me. It’s sweet, but he really shouldn’t have done this. It’s like he’s roping me back in. I glanced down and lifted up some of the little notes that were written for me and read them out loud.

“I love your smile. It’s the brightest and cutest thing on this earth. Please don’t stop smiling because of my mistakes…”

“Memory: When we went bowling and you “cheated” so you could win was when I knew I started to fall in love with you. I met someone who was as competitive as me. I met my match… ”

“Memory: When we kissed for the first time, I swear to you, it felt like time had stopped. It was just us two and nothing else mattered in that moment but you… ”

“I love how you’re a little old school. Drive - In movie theatres, bowling, mini golfing.. you made love easy. Next thing I knew, I was head over heels about you. I was a fool to let that go… ”

I could feel my face getting warmer as tears started to well up in my eyes. No, it’s not fair. He can’t do that to me once I’m starting to get over him. I read through a few more until I reached something small and hard on the very bottom. “What’s this?” I mumbled to myself.

I lifted it up and was confused when I found a USB Flash Drive in my hands. I sniffled and looked around my room for my laptop and turned it on once I found it.

“C’mon, the one time I need you to hurry the fuck up, you’re taking forver..” I mumbled at my laptop as I grabbed the USB and plugged it in on the side, waiting a couple more seconds before a document popped up on my screen.

“Dear (Y/N)” is what he named it. I stopped for a moment and sighed, clicking on the document as a video of Joel’s face popped up on my screen. I took a deep breath in and closed my eyes for a second.

If I watch this, then this might change everything. I don’t know if I want to see or hear what he has to say. I’m trying to get over you, Joel and I was doing perfectly fine without you in the picture.

Do I really wanna watch this video just so he could try to change my mind?

I sighed and thought for a few more moments. Yes… the answer is yes. I moved my mouse up to press play and waited for him to come onto the screen. Maybe this is a bad idea…

“Oh God.. I hope this is working..” he mumbled and fixed up his curly locks. “Um… hi. It’s me, Joel. Listen, before you go off and turn this off or throw this package away, please just hear me out. I’m just asking for a couple minutes of your time..”

I covered my mouth with my hand and felt tears welling up in my eyes once again as he continued.

“I know you probably still don’t want anything to do with me anymore and want me to leave you alone, but I can’t for the love of everything holy get you out of my head. I never knew that I could ever feel like this for anyone.”

He sighed and leaned down a bit, covering his face and sniffled. He cleared his throat and looked back up at the camera.

“I fucked up. I lost one of the best things to ever happen to me and I have no one else to blame but myself. It was the stupidest thing I ever did… I wanted to come clean after I realized that what we have.. what we had was something more. It was starting to feel like those cliché romance movies. It was becoming real.”

He smiled for a moment before he frowned again. I felt tears slowly sliding down my cheeks as I hastily wiped them away. Oh my gosh, I can’t believe I’m crying. Why do I have to be emotional? Why do I still feel something for him?

“You deserve better… but.. I would like to be that person for you, if you’ll have me. (Y/N), you are not a second choice and I’m so sorry that I made you feel like that. You know.. I actually can’t bring myself to delete the photos of you I have in my phone. I guess there’s a part of me that still wants to believe that I can somehow fix this.”

He looked down at his hands and I noticed that he was holding a small heart shaped box and I wondered what could be inside.

“I waited as long as I could at the airport for you..”

Wait… what did he say? I leaned in close to my laptop screen as he continued talking.

“I waited and it almost ended up with me missing our flight. I couldn’t wait any longer because I was actually physically dragged away and onto the plane. I prayed that you would be there before I left so I could at least see your face.. but, you didn’t show and I got your message right then and there that it was over..”

“No, Joel! You’re wrong! I was there! I got there and Johann told me that you didn’t bother to wait. That you just left without saying goodbye and hopped on without - … ”

Wait a second… no, that can’t be true. Johann wouldn’t.. lie to me, right? He knows how I feel about Joel and how I was willing to just.. omg...

“Despite everything, I want to give us another chance. I want us to start over and fall in love again. I uh..” He cleared his throat and held up the heart shaped box in his hands. “I got you something. Well, a few things. You can pause the video to open them up if you haven’t already..”

I pressed pause and reached into the package, taking out another small box and placing it down on my lap. I feel all discombobulated now. There’s so many mixed emotions going through my mind.

I slowly opened up the box and felt my chest tighten slightly.

I bit my lip and slipped both accessories onto my body, playing with the butterfly dangling from my wrist. I reached for the last box, noticing it was the same small heart shaped one Joel was holding in the video.

“It’s beautiful…” I mumbled to myself as I slipped it onto my finger, admiring the way how it looked on me. It’s a perfect fit. I looked at the pieces of jewelry he gave me and realized that they all match. They’re all butterflies. “Oh Joel… ” I frowned, reaching down to press play.

“Butterflies are known to be a sign of good luck and hope, but for me… well, you know that saying of getting butterflies in your stomach when you’re around someone you love? It’s the same feeling I get whenever I’m around you. It’s another cliché thing, I know but I don’t care. It’s how I feel.” He smiled while looking down at the ring in his hands.

“I love it, Joel. I really do.” I spoke to my laptop screen, as if he could hear me.

“I figured I should get you a set and have them all matching. I know it’s not much, but I saw them and thought of you. (Y/N), over the next few months, I’m gonna be sending you flowers, letters, and treats that I think you’ll like from the places I’ve been to. I’m doing this kind of.. anonymously, almost.” He shook his head and bit his lip.

I looked up at the flowers that were on top of my vanity and my mouth agape. These couldn’t possibly be from Joel, can they?

“Look, I know I don’t deserve a second chance, but a guy can still hope, right? But, if this all turns out to be a flop and that I’ve been wasting time and money for someone who doesn’t want me anymore… I’ll stop.”

I felt my breath hitch in the back of my throat. Stop…?

“I’ll stop sending you ‘I’m sorry’ gifts and leave you alone for good. I won’t bother you anymore and you can be free of me. I wouldn’t be surprised after what I did. This is my last shot. After this… I don’t know. I guess I’ll just have to find a way to get you out of my mind and let you go.”

I shook my head and softly cried. “No, Joel.. no please don’t.. I want you. I want you back..”

“I know this is kind of a long shot, but I want you to come and visit me sometime during the tour. I’ll be sending you flowers randomly over the next few months. I’ll be leaving small messages inside with the time and place we can meet up in each state I’m going to. I have a busy schedule, but I’m making time just for you. If I don’t see you or hear from you within the few months, I completely understand.. ”

“Joel! C’mon, we gotta go!”

“Alright! I’m coming!” He looked up at the person calling his name and then back to the camera. “I gotta go, duty calls.” He gave me one last small smile and sniffled.

“One last thing…” He leaned in and spoke. “Please don’t tell anyone but your friends. Let’s just keep this a secret between us, yeah? I’ll explain more if I see you..”

Why keep this a secret? Does he not want anyone to know about me? If it goes wrong, nobody knows about it but us, is that right? Is that why?

“Joel!”

“Ya me voy!” He sighed and shook his head. “I really gotta go…” He got up and held up the camera to his face. “Happy birthday, (Y/N)... I hope you had a good one.. bye..”

And with that, the video ended and I was left sitting on my bed with a tear stained face. I honestly don’t know what to say..

I bet I look like a fucking mess right now.

I got up and wiped my tears away, going straight for the flowers on top of my vanity and looked for any sort of message or note inside the bouquet.

Nothing.

There’s nothing there.

“Of course..” I mumbled to myself and moved a strand of hair away from my face. Joel has been sending me flowers and this whole time I thought it was Johann. Well, to be fair, he has been coming by with them in his hands. Told me they were “just because” flowers.

Does he know something about this though? Could he have taken out the messages inside and claimed them as his own? Well whatever the reason, I know one thing for certain.

The next time I get flowers from “Johann”, I need to find and read that message. I am not going to miss my flight this time around.

I’m coming, Joel. Just wait a little longer…

Next Chapter

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jamielea81 · 4 years

Text

Conversations

Chapter 6

Description: You accompany your friends on a day trip to Animal Kingdom Theme Park where you meet Scott Evans by chance. This one afternoon leads to a year long friendship with both Chris and Scott over text messages and phone calls.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warning: Cursing, drinking, maybe a little heartache.

Word Count: 7,750

A/N: Comments and reblogs are always appreciated. Italics are internal thoughts. This is strictly for fun. I know nothing about the lives of these two individuals, so this is purely fiction.

Catch up with chapter 5

Scott called about an hour later. The two of you apologizing to each other which neither of you really needed to do.

“Look, I’m sorry about Chris taking my phone. I should have called you when I got home rather than calling you with Chris there,” Scott said.

He sounded down which you hated. None of this mess was Scott’s fault.

“You honestly have nothing to apologize for. I’m sorry that you were even caught in the middle of whatever that was,” you replied and took a deep breath. “I don’t want to fight with Chris. But I don’t think it’s fair that he gets to pick and choose when he wants to be a part of my life. I mean, it’s been about a month of us barely speaking.”

“Completely agree with you there,” Scott said.

“I get it though, he’s with Courtney now. And for as much as he and I were talking before New Year, I can see how that wouldn’t necessarily be something you could carry on doing when in a relationship,” you said.

“Plus, my brother is a flirt.”

“That he is,” you sighed.

“On to more serious topics. So how slutty did you decide to go?” Scott asked.

“You’re impossible,” you replied.

Jana agreed that neither dress would be considered as Scott put it, slutty. One just showed a tiny bit of cleavage and the other showed just a tad more. You decided that the deep purple flattered more, even if it did show a bit of cleavage.

Ethan arrived promptly at six with a bouquet of roses in hand. The varying shades of pink matched the color of his cheeks, which frankly was adorable.

The Capital Grille was a beautiful restaurant with old world charm. Mahogany stained wainscoting and rich red paint covered the walls. Crisp white linens with intimate lamp lighting adorn each of the tables. It’s far nicer restaurant than the last few dates you have been on. You like Chilis as much as the next person, but Ethan was definitely trying to impress and you appreciated the effort.

“I hear congrats are in order,” you said, pleasant smile on your face.

He ducks his face for a second but then offers a strong grin. “Thank you. Thank you. I take it Jana told you the news?” he asked. You nodded, taking a sip of your champagne cocktail, enjoying the flavor of the peach vodka. “I worked hard and it paid off.”

Lifting your glass, you angled it toward him. “Cheers to making partner,” you offered.

He clinked his glass of bourbon against yours, offering you a gentle smile and a muttered thank you.

Dinner was delicious and the ride home not as awkward as you assumed it would be. While you had known Ethan for over a year, each interaction had only been minutes and it was generally him offering you dazzling smiles. This Ethan was sweet and eager to know about you. The cockiness that he generally pushed out was more subdued and a part of you could see this moving on two a second and a third date.

Ethan walked you to your door and you were almost tempted to invite him in, but you did want to push this into a one and done date. Leaning in, you offered him a hug which he fully embraced. The woodsy scent of his cologne enveloped you as your face rested in the crock of his neck. After you hugged a bit too long, your pulled back with flushed cheeks, only to be met with his soft pillowy lips cooling the heat.

You went to bed that night with a smile on your face. Jana and Scott could hear about your evening later.

Ethan sent you a text around lunch the next day. Just a simple check in that kept that smile going.

Ethan: Hi 😊 Hope your day is off to a great start.

On Valentine’s Day, Ethan didn’t send anything or ask to take you out. It was much too early for something like that in your opinion, but he did send you a good morning text and another that afternoon.

Ethan: I know this is short notice, but can I take you to breakfast tomorrow?

Y/N: That sounds great. Do you want to meet somewhere or are you picking me up?

Ethan: I’d like to surprise you. Pick you up at nine?

Y/N: Great! I’ll see you tomorrow.

Ethan: Have a wonderful day beautiful.

Brunch was at Disney’s Contemporary Resort. The California Grill not only offered dinner with a spectacular view, but it also offered an upscale brunch on the weekends. On your first date, you told Ethan about your love for the mouse. Even though he was a native Floridian, he confessed he’d only gone to the parks a couple of times as an adult.

“We should go sometime,” you said, pointing at the castle that could be seen from your table.

“Yeah?” he asked.

“I mean, only if you want to. It would be a fun date,” you said shyly.

“You’re going to let me take you on more dates?”

What a flirt.

“Or I could take you. Ever think of that?” you sassed.

“Alright. Yeah, you take me out. As long as you buy me a churro,” Ethan said.

“I’ll even throw in popcorn!”

Ethan stuck out his hand for you to shake. You turned your head to the side and gave him a lopsided grin before extending your own.

“Deal,” he said.

The date ended in a sweet kiss that felt right.

It was a week before Chris makes the first move and reaches out to you. Via text message of course. You’re in the middle writing an article about your brunch with Ethan a couple of days ago. The brunch is not a new offering at the hotel, but it’s the first time you’ve dined there and your boss agreed it could be a nice article for the paper’s online edition. Since you thought an article was a strong possibility, your date humored you as you took several photos of your and Ethan’s entrees, the buffet offerings as well as the Bloody Mary bar with your phone’s camera. You’re happy you did. It’s always nice to be able to use your own pictures to add a personal touch to the article rather than using images Disney supplies.

Chris: “Please forgive me – I know not what I do”

That asshole.

Using your love of soft rock against you was a cheap move. He knew about your obsession with Bryan Adams. It wasn’t something you shouted from rooftops, but you also didn’t hide it which is why you confessed one of your more recent regrets was missing him in concert at Red Rocks. A guy you were seeing at the time suggested the trip to Colorado but you didn’t feel the two of you were at the “vacation together” stage.

Chris: Can I call you? I really want to talk to you.

You slapped your phone face down on your desk.

Nope. Not right now. Work first. Chris drama later. Much later.

A second later you grabbed your phone off the desk and saw that a new message had come in.

Ethan: Hi Beautiful. Can I see you tomorrow night?

Smiling to yourself, you typed out a quick reply.

Y/N: Hello Mister charmer. Yes, I’m free tomorrow night.

Hitting send on the message, you placed the phone in the desk drawer. Out of sight, out of mind.

With the dinner dishes currently drying in the rack, you walked outside to your lanai, sitting down on the cushioned loveseat. Tucking one leg under the other, you got comfy. Despite it being the middle of February, the temperatures were still comfortable in the high sixties at night. You dug your phone out of your pocket and passed it back and forth between your hands. The text from Chris had burned a hole in your brain all afternoon, despite your best effort to forget it. Taking a deep breath, you counted to three before hitting the phone icon on Chris’ contact information. If you two were going to have a conversation, you wanted to have some control.

It rang only twice before he answered.

“Y/N? Hi.” He definitely sounded nervous which slightly put you at ease.

“H-hi, Chris. Is now a good time?” you asked.

“Yeah…Just give me a second,” he replied.

It sounded as though he was moving. You could hear voices in the background getting quieter. Then you heard a door close.

“I can call you back later, if you’re busy,” you offered.

“No. No. Just watching TV with a friend. Not a big deal,” Chris said.

Part of you wondered if the friend was Courtney. Not that it was any of your concern.

“I’m glad you called. I was a little worried when you didn’t reply to my text,” he said almost shyly.

“I was working.” You took a breath. That wasn’t the whole truth. “Too be honest, I wasn’t sure I wanted to. This has been weird for me,” you said.

“Been weird for me too,” he interrupted. “You’re right. We haven’t been talking, so I shouldn’t have expected you to have told me you had a date. I’m sorry.”

You’re not sure what you expected from the conversation. Chris didn’t really owe you anything. If you guys weren’t as close as you once were, then that’s just the way it is. But you couldn’t help yourself.

“Why haven’t we been talking? I mean…I feel like I’ve put effort into it. Into our friendship. You know what? Never mind. I appreciate you saying sorry. I’ll let you go,” you said.

“What? No. Please. Tell me what you were going to say. Please,” Chris pleaded.

You let out a slow breath and licked your lips. “You really pulled away in January,” you started. “And maybe the last couple of weeks I’ve stopped trying as much, but I started to feel like I was the only one trying. This…this thing between us shouldn’t have to feel like work.”

He slightly groaned. “I’m sorry. I’ve just been busy and I know that’s not fair to you. Sweetheart, I don’t want to lose you. Can we please try again?”

There he goes again making you weak with that nickname. You truly missed talking to Chris and you really hoped the two of you could get back to the way you were. As long as he tried.

“Okay. But only because you said please.”

He chuckled at your response. “Good. Ma did teach me manors, I’ll have you know,” he said.

“Then how do you explain Scott?” you asked.

You’d like to say that your friendship with Chris went back to daily phone calls and constant text messaging, but it didn’t. It was better, but it wasn’t what it once was. You chalked it up to him being with Courtney and you being with Ethan. The two of you texted each other once a day, but it was mainly memes and the occasional, “how’s your day?” Neither of you brought up your partners. But that was probably for the best. Besides, that just seemed…awkward.

That Magic Kingdom date you wanted to take Ethan hadn’t happened yet. The two of you had been seeing each other for just over a month. Two weeks in, he asked if you were exclusive and you said yes. It might have seemed fast to some, but you were seeing each other every other night. He texted you daily with sweet words and charmed you with multiple phone calls. A fresh bundle of various types of flowers in gorgeous hues of red, pink, yellow and creams were given to you weekly. Ethan was great and you were happy. Were you in love? No. But that’s something that came in time.

While you hadn’t gone on a true double date with Jana and Brooks, you had dined with the two of them at dinners with the other partners. Other nights were spent schmoozing Ethan’s clients. It had become a regular thing the last two weeks. You drew the line at three nights a week. Some nights you just wanted time with your boyfriend. And some nights you just wanted time for yourself. On the nights he was out without you, he’d come over when he was finished to spend the night at your place. Often dragging you to bed way earlier than you were used to. Scott did not appreciate your missed late-night phone calls, but you always made sure to touch base with him at some point during the day. You did not want to be accused of being a friend who forgot about everyone else once in a relationship.

“You’re lucky I love you. Taking your calls during the middle of the day like you’re my mother. Am I going to meet this boyfriend of yours?” he asked.

“Am I going to meet yours?” you countered.

“Touché…So, Chris and Courtney broke up,” he said casually like he was discussing the weather.

“Oh.” You’re so caught off guard, you’re not sure how to respond. “Is he okay?”

“Yeah, they do this. He says this is it this time. They just don’t work together,” he replied.

This is none of my business.

You reply with a hum. Since Chris and you don’t discuss your relationships as some sort of unwritten rule, it doesn’t feel right to discuss his breakup.

Scott seems to get the hint.

“What are you guys doing tonight?” he asked.

“Just watching a movie at his place. Nothing too exciting,” you replied.

Ethan knew about Scott, but he didn’t know Scott was an actor or the brother of Captain America. You didn’t hide it, but Ethan just wasn’t invested enough in knowing your friends. He was busy and you understood that.

Jana had taken a late lunch and met you at a strip mall near her office for a quick lunch and some shopping. With all the dinner dates, you needed to add a couple of dresses to your rotation.

“Are you out five nights a week like Ethan? I just feel it’s excessive,” you asked Jana.

“Kind of.” She shrugs. “Maybe three nights. Some weeks, just once,” she said.

“Then why the fuck have I been going three nights a week the last two weeks? I have to encourage him to go without me. Sometimes I just want to watch TV,” you whine.

She lets out a choppy laugh. “Ethan’s a work-aholic. I’m pretty sure I told you that before you two even got together. He’s just trying to prove himself to his new clients and the other partners.”

You had a pile of dresses in your hands and it was getting to the point where you were pretty sure your arm was going numb.

“Come please,” you beckoned Jana with a head nod toward the changing rooms. “I need you to help me decide.”

She followed you, taking a seat just outside your changing room door. Before you even put on the first dress, Ethan was calling you on your phone.

“Is it Ethan?” Jana asked.

“Yep. Hang on,” you told her through the changing room door.

“Hey Eth.”

“Hey Beautiful. How are you? Are you at work?” he asked.

“Good and no, taking a long lunch,” you said while shimming your pants down. Expertly holding your phone between your cheek and shoulder.

“What are you doing?”

“Shopping for some dresses. All these dinners we go on, I’m running out of things to wear. Jana met me, we grabbed lunch before and are headed back to work soon,” you said.

“Oh.” He sounded disappointed “Where are you?” he asked.

“At that strip mall on Citrus near your office,” you replied.

You’ve managed to unbutton the twelve or so buttons on your shirt without dropping your phone. You throw your fist in the air to celebrate, almost dropping your phone in the process.

“Wait, you’re near my office and you didn’t stop by?”

You love that he always wants to see you, but he spent the night at your place last night. But then again, you’ve dated guys that thought two dates a week was a lot.

“Eth, aren’t I seeing you tonight? I just needed some girl time,” you replied.

“Alright, fine. I just miss you,” he mumbles over the phone.

Your cheeks grow hot. This big, bad, scary lawyer is mush for you.

“You’re too sweet. I’ll see you later though,” you said.

“Okay. Bye sweetie,” he said.

“Bye Ethan.”

You slip on the first dress and walk out to show Jana. She immediately shakes her head and you walk right back in.

The next three she’s iffy about, but tells you to put the last of the three in the maybe pile.

You walk out in the fourth and she gasps. “That’s way too nice for a night out with clients, but that looks so good on you.”

You turn around to get a different angle in the mirror. She’s right. The cobalt blue looks great against your skin tone. The cut making your ass look great. You nod and smile, doing a twirl to make her laugh.

Before you make it back in the changing room, she grabs your hand.

“What did Ethan have to say,” she asked.

“He was just checking in,” you say with a shrug. “Wanted to know if I was stopping by when we’re done.”

“He calls a lot, doesn’t he?” she asked hesitantly.

“Jana,” you half chuckle. “Where’s this coming from?”

She lets out a small sigh. “It just seems like you guys spend a lot of time together. Do you ever feel like it’s lot? You were texting him at lunch.”

You’re not sure what’s she getting at. Yes, Ethan checks in quite often, but it’s a new relationship and you like spending time with him. It makes you feel good that someone cares that much about you. And yeah, it’s a lot, but it will probably lessen as time goes by.

“It’s new, Jana. We’re at that stage where we can’t get enough of each other. It’s fine. It’s sweet.”

She gives you a small smile. “Okay. You’re right. I’m just being weird. I am really happy for you,” she adds.

You walk back into the changing room, suddenly feeling a little down. You change out of the dress, opting to put your dark wash jeans and pink button-down back on. You grab the maybe dress and the cobalt blue dress to pay for. There’s a tiny bit of doubt planted in your mind now and you’re not sure what to think.

Ethan’s cut back on the amount of nights he works late in the office, instead opting to work at your place or at his. He’s even trimmed down on the client and partner dinners, only going if you have agreed to go. It’s a lot of time together and it’s really starting to take its toll. At first, you loved all the attention, but you can’t help but think back to that tiny seed of doubt that was planted a few weeks ago. Scott’s even mentioned that you’re more withdrawn, despite your best effort to call or text him often.

It’s a beautiful spring night and you’re on your lanai enjoying the extra hours of sunlight that April brings. The darkness of winter always gets you down; you can’t help but soak up the sun for as long as you can get it. You’re working on an article for Epcot’s Flower and Garden Festival for the online edition. The festival has been going on for a month and you’ve already written a preview article for the paper, but this one is more your speed. You’ve been writing more and more for the online edition. Those articles allow you to really insert yourself into the story and write about the event from your personal experience.

The sliding glass door opens and closes behind you. You feel Ethan’s hands on your shoulders as he starts to gently rub them. An hour ago, volumes from The Southern Reporter and The Law of Torts, as well as his laptop were spread out across your kitchen island.

He kisses the top of your head. “Let’s go to bed sweetheart,” he softly says into your hair.

It’s eight o’clock. And the sun hasn’t set. The urge to snap at him is strong, but you bite your tongue.

“Go ahead without me. I want to finish this tonight so it can go up tomorrow,” you replied.

You turn around slightly and give him a small smile. This has become a normal fight between the two of you the last couple of weeks. Ever since he’s cut back on his nights out. You’ve always been a bit of a night owl, going to bed at ten feels like a compromise.

“Sweetie, I’m beat. It’s been a long week. You can finish that up in the morning. Wake up with me, you sleep too late anyway.”

You sigh out loud. “Ethan, this is work. I really need to get it finished and I don’t want to wake up at six and feel like I need to rush to finish. You’re perfectly fine to go to bed without me.”

He comes around the loveseat to stand in front of you.

“Please? For me?” he begs, voice light and sweet that you almost cave.

You shake your head. You’re not even tired. He’ll be passed out in fifteen minutes and you’ll be lying awake for hours.

“Sorry Eth. I’ll see you in there later,” you said.

You offer him a smile again before turning your attention back to your laptop screen.

“It’s like you don’t want to spend time we me anymore.”

Really? This is how this night is going to go?

“That’s not fair. We see each other almost every day. Even yesterday when I was at the park late for work, I still crawled into bed at your place when I was done.”

“My point exactly, I was already in bed.”

“We’re both busy Ethan. You work a lot. I work a lot. I honestly am giving you all my free time. I haven’t seen Jana in forever and she works in the same building as you!”

The two of you have only been together for two months. It’s too much too soon and you feel like you’re going to implode.

“Excuse me for wanting to spend time together with my girlfriend,” he said abruptly.

“If you’re sleeping, we’re not really spending time together either,” you counter. “I have to get back to this.” You point at your laptop.

“You write stories about theme parks, Y/N. It’s not that serious,” he grumbles as he starts to walk back inside.

You hop up, going after him, catching the door before he closes it.

“What a shitty thing to say. This is my career. I don’t care if I am writing about the neighbor’s dog taking a shit in my yard. I’m a writer and a journalist.”

Your face is on fire and you feel like your heart is going to beat out of your chest.

“You’re right. You’re right. You’re right,” he quickly offers. His hands going to your biceps.

“I think you should leave,” you said sternly.

“Y/N, sweetheart. I’m sorry.”

“Ethan, I need space. Please just leave,” you replied.

He nods solemnly, letting go of your arms and walking back in your bedroom to grab his duffle bag.

He walks back out of the room and gives you a sad smile before making his way to your front door. “I really am sorry for what I said.”

You nod your head and follow him to the door, closing it once he’s through the threshold. There’s a pit in your stomach and you’re shaking slightly. Finding the couch, you collapse onto it and as the tears start to flow. You don’t know if your crying because your angry, hurt, or overwhelmed.

Sleep that night is restless. Ethan has been a part of your day for the last two months. It was an odd feeling to sleep without him. What he said about your job was hurtful. Did he really think so low of you? The man that praises you daily with sweet words and gentle kisses found it so easy to cut you down.

The story doesn’t get posted the next day like you had planned. You opted for a sick day, staying in bed and ignoring your phone completely. You needed a day just for you. The relationship was too much way too soon. You’d always had that independent streak and to practically be living with someone suddenly, it was a big change.

You managed to finish your story before going to sleep that night, e-mailing it off so that it could be posted in the morning. Finding your old alarm clock because you still didn’t want to face your cellphone was a struggle. It was buried inside a box of clothes for donation that you’ve been meaning to drop off for the last seven months. Setting the alarm for nine, you fell asleep easy due to the lack of sleep and the crying the night before.

As expected, you had several missed phone calls from Ethan, a call from Jana and a couple of text messages from Scott and Chris. You didn’t talk to Jana or Brooks at all yesterday and you knew Ethan wouldn’t go to her with this, so you knew it was just a normal check in call you missed. It was hard to listen to Ethan’s calls in the morning. You were still pretty angry at him for what he said about your career. You were also angry at yourself for sticking in a relationship you weren’t entirely happy with. You really liked Ethan and cared about him, but you knew you couldn’t go back to the way things had been. The three messages were all the same. Apologizing for how the conversation went. Saying he missed me and hoped I would forgive him. You still needed more time.

Y/N: I need more time. Please understand.

A few minutes later her responded.

Ethan: Of course. Take all the time you need.

You fired off similar texts about having a migraine yesterday to Jana, Scott, and Chris. Since you weren’t sure what was going to happen with you and Ethan, you didn’t want to say anything to Jana or Scott yet.

A few days had passed when you finally called Ethan and asked to meet at the coffee shop the two of you took to visiting on Sunday mornings. You were nervous about seeing him which was such an odd feeling. You had gone from seeing him, kissing him, sleeping with him, to not speaking for several days and your nerves were shot.

When you entered the small shop, you saw Ethan already sitting at your normal table, two cups of coffee already waiting. He spotted you as well and quickly stood up, offering you a nervous smile.

“Hi,” you greeted him.

He leaned in for a hug and you accepted it.

“Hi,” he responded, still holding you.

When the two of you let go, you took a seat, already grasping on to the mug for comfort.

“Thanks,” you said, slightly lifting the warm mug.

“Thanks for meeting me,” he replied, small smile on his lips.

“Of course. Listen. I’m sorry for how I handled our fight that night. I shouldn’t have kicked you out, instead we should have talked. Actually, I think we should have talked a lot sooner than that night,” you said.

“I’m so sorry for how I behaved,” he interrupted. “I didn’t mean what I said about your job. I over reacted and I apologize.”

“Ethan, it’s more than that,” you sighed out. “We aren’t working. I care about you, but I don’t think we fit together as a couple.”

He starts to shake his head slightly. “That’s not true. We get along so well and we feel so right.”

You take a deep breath and let it out slowly. “It’s just too much for me. All this time we spend together, it’s too much too soon for me. I’ve always liked my alone time, and time with friends. I’m not used to spending every night with somebody. I’m sorry.” You pick up the mug and take a few sips. Breaking up with someone is never fun and your thankful this is only your second time. Granted, getting broken up with is no picnic either.

“But-But that doesn’t mean we need to breakup. I can give you space. Start sleeping at my place more. This doesn’t mean we can’t see each other,” he argues.

You take his hand in yours. You truly do care about Ethan, but you let yourself get wrapped up in someone else which you know isn’t healthy. Ethan pretty much planned your days and nights for the last two months and you just let him. Looking back, you wish you wouldn’t have jumped right into the relationship. Maybe things would have been different.

“I care about you, but this isn’t what I want. I’m sorry and as cliché as it sounds, I want to be your friend again,” you replied.

You’d still see Jana; she was your best friend. Neither of you would want the awkwardness that would come from your regular office visits.

He squeezes your hand and then keeps it encompassed in both of his. He takes a couple of breaths before speaking.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t work this out and I’m sorry if I pushed to hard too fast,” solemnly he replied.

You shook your head no. “That’s on me too.”

The two of you part the same way you began, with a hug.

That night you call Jana and then Scott. Jana’s supportive of your decision but she’s also upset for you. She brings up your office visits and you explain that you don’t see a problem with them. Of course, it will be awkward to begin with, but you hope you and Ethan can get to a place where you’re able to have conversations as you are coming and going.

Scott is taken aback that you’re calling him at midnight your time, he’s even maybe a little surprised you are calling at all.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I recognize this number,” he said with such snark.

“Is this Chris Evans? Maybe I have the wrong number,” you sassed back.

“You bitch,” he said before bursting into laughter.

“Yes, it’s me calling, brat. Deal with it,” you said.

“The boyfriend let you have a free night?”

Had you still been dating Ethan, you would have only rolled your eyes at that, but now that you’re broken up, it only shows you that you really were wrapped up in each other.

You let out a small cough, then clear your throat. “Well, actually, um, we broke up.”

“You did? I’m so sorry sweetie. Are you okay?” he asked sincerely.

“Ye-yeah. It was for the best. I think I just need to pledge of celibacy. Apparently, I’m not cut out for a relationship.”

“I doubt that. That’s not what he said is it? I’ll beat him up,” Scott threatened.

“No, no. Not at all,” you chuckled. “I broke up with him. I was beginning to feel suffocated by the amount of time we spent together. And if I wanted to do my own thing, he would make me feel bad about doing so. Plus, he called my job a joke more or less.”

“Well, that’s horseshit and I hope you know that,” Scott said.

“Completely agree. Sure, maybe it’s not something I want to do forever, but I enjoy my job and I do it well. It hurt that he said that, which is what caused me to take time to myself and decide to end it. I just need some me time,” you said.

“You deserve it. But don’t get holed up in that house of yours. Call Jana and some of your work friends to go out. You need to let loose,” he said.

“Yeah. You’re right. Probably this weekend.”

But you didn’t. It was work and then home for the last five days. You did make it to the grocery store over the weekend, but that was the extent of your adventures. You hadn’t gone to Jana’s office yet, but you did meet for lunch a few days prior. It was easier to mope at home. Alone.

Scott: Please tell me you’ve left the house besides going to work.

Y/N: I went to the store on Sunday. Does that count?

Scott: Sassy, you can’t stay home and just be sad. That’s not good for you either.

Y/N: I’m fine. I was with someone almost every day for two months, being home alone is a nice change.

Scott: I’m not disagreeing there. But it’s also therapeutic to socialize with others. Maybe get drunk. Dance on a table.

Y/N: That sounds more like your speed Grumpy.

Yes, it was nearing the end of April, but you still had those twenty or so Christmas movies to get through which is what you were working on Wednesday night when Scott called you at a surprisingly early time.

“Guess what?” he gushed.

“What?” you said with a laugh.

“I’m coming to visit you!” he sing-songed.

“What?! When?” you asked.

“Friday. So, you better call in sick or take the day off.”

“Not that I don’t want you to come, but what’s with the last-minute trip?” you asked.

“What? I can’t just want to visit?” he insisted.

“Scott…”

“When one of my bestie’s is down, I am there for them. You’re one of my bestie’s and you need me. I’ve already booked the flight, so you can’t say no.” he chided.

“Hon, I appreciate it, but I promise you I am fine. Of course, I’d love to see you though.”

“Good. Then it’s settled,” he said.

“Are you renting a car or am I picking you up?”

“You are stuck with me all weekend, so you are picking me up. I’ll text you my flight info,” Scott said.

“Goodnight trouble,” you replied.

“Night Sassy.”

Now you needed to clean your house. Sure, it was clean, but overnight guest clean? Not even close.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It was Thursday night and Scott was packing his bag last minute for his trip to Orlando in the morning. Not entirely sure what their plans will be, even though he’s the one that planned the trip, he packs a little bit of everything. A suit for going out, shorts, tees, sandals, boots.

“Sassy has a pool, right?” he said to himself. “I’m sure she does.”

With swim trunks securely packed in his rolling bag, he zips it up, before dropping it to the floor.

His phone starts to ring and he sees that it’s Chris, suddenly remembering he was supposed to call him to cancel.

“Hey,” Scott answered.

“Hey. What time are you coming by?” Chris asked.

“Yeah, I’m sorry, I forgot to call you. I’m flying out early tomorrow so, I’m not coming by.”

“What? Where are you going?” Chris asked.

“To visit Y/N,” Scott said.

“Why are you visiting Y/N?” Chris asked, surprise evident in his voice.

“Because I want to see her. Plus, she needs me.” Scott answered.

“Needs you? What’s going on with Sassy?” Chris asked, growing tired of this game Scott was playing.

“Why? God, do you not talk to Y/N, like ever? She and Ethan broke up.” Scott exclaimed.

“We talk,” Chris scoffed. “Just not about her boyfriend. When did they break up? Is she okay?”

“Like a week or so ago. Maybe call your friend once in a while,” Scott spit out.

“Yeah, you’re right. You’re right.” Chris sighed out.

When the call ended, Chris wiped a hand down his face, leaning back into the couch cushion. Scott was right. He hadn’t been calling Y/N like he should. When they had that long call a couple of months back, he told her he didn’t want to lose her friendship and while they still talked, they were barely friends at this point. If he was being honest with himself, he was a little jealous that Scott was visiting her. He needed to make a change.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

After picking up a very excited Scott from the airport, the two of you made a stop at the liquor store per Scott’s request, because, per Scott, “I don’t trust your wine selection.”

Sigh.

After that regretful stop which included picking up a bottle of raspberry flavored vodka, the two of you stopped at a grocery store for breakfast items, frozen pizza, and chips and salsa. The essentials of course.

After a quick tour of your house including a stop in the guest room so that Scott could set his bag down, he immediately ordered you to take a shower.

“I love you like a sister, but you’re looking rough my dear,” he said.

You had showered that morning, but didn’t put any effort into your hair, makeup, or outfit choice.

“Scott, I really don’t want to go out. I rather just hang out with you. Please?” you pleaded.

“We don’t have to go out, but we are getting pretty tonight. Go shower and I’m going to lay out what you are wearing on your bed,” he said.

You stuck out your lower lip to pout, but complied. Scott was here. In your house! Really, you’d go out if he asked. You started toward your bathroom, Scott promptly slapping your ass as you went.

“Brat!” you said, turning around sticking out your tongue.

After a quick shower, you blow-dried your hair, applied some light makeup before walking your towel clad body to your bedroom. Scott laid out the cobalt blue dress you bought with Jana about a month ago but never had the chance to wear. You smiled to yourself, quickly changing into the dress, opting to go barefoot since you weren’t actually leaving.

Walking back into your living room, you were met with a wolf whistle from Scott. He was dressed in a blue suit, the shirt underneath in a slightly lighter color. The two of you almost matching which made you grin.

“Looking pretty good yourself Evans,” you replied.

“Thank you.” He bowed to you. “Thank you,” he said.

“What are we having for dinner?” you asked.

“Let’s start with the chips and salsa. And the vodka. We’ll have the wine tomorrow,” he replied.

It was going to be a long night.

The two of you never did eat anything else. The bag of chips was entirely gone as well as a lot of the raspberry vodka. Scott commandeered your Bluetooth speakers at one point, starting a playlist he had created. The two of you dancing in your fancy clothes and barefoot to Liam Payne’s Strip That Down.

You know I love it when the music's loud But c'mon, strip that down for me, baby Now there's a lot of people in the crowd But only you can dance with me So put your hands on my body And swing that round for me, baby (swing)

“Are you having fun?” Scott yells over the music.

Your body continues to dance to the beat. You offer him a thumbs up, because you’re singing along.

“Oh, strip that down, girl. Love when hit the ground, girl. Oh, strip that down, girl. Love, when you hit ground.”

The song changes to Demi Lovato Confident. Scott starts to sing along and you’re in hysterics.

“I used to hold my freak back. Now I'm letting go. I make my own choice. Bitch, I run this show So leave the lights on. No, you can't make me behave.” Scott sings out.

Scott grabs you so that your back is against his chest. He takes his phone and starts recording the two of you swaying and singing along.

What's wrong with being, what's wrong with being What's wrong with being confident? What's wrong with being, what's wrong with being What's wrong with being confident?

Scott apparently sends the video clip to Chris because a short time later, Chris is facetiming Scott on his phone.

“Chris!” Scott shouts when he sees his brother’s face on the screen.

“Where are you two?” Chris asks.

You kind of duck out of the way of Scott’s camera. Throughout all your phone calls with Chris going back to October, you’ve never once facetimed him before. Even with the amount of raspberry flavored vodka in your blood, it still made you nervous to talk to him face to face.

“We’re at Sassy’s house!” Scott replied.

Chris chuckled at Scott’s response. “I could have sworn you two were at a club. You’re dressed to go out. Sassy, you were lookin’ sexy in that video Scott sent,” Chris said loud enough for you to hear.

You know your cheeks are flushed, from the dancing, drinking, and now, Chris’ comment.

“This is just how we do big brother,” Scott said. “Sassy’s being shy from the camera.”

Scott flips around his phone so that you can see Chris and he can see you. You wave awkwardly at him.

“Hey sweetheart. Good to see you again,” Chris said.

He looks good, but, when doesn’t he? He’s got on a simple gray t-shirt and jeans, but his hair has grown out a bit and his beard is full.

“You-you too,” you said with a smile.

Scott turns the camera back to him. “Don’t give me that pout. Call Y/N on your own time.”

“I was just calling to see how you to were getting along,” Chris offers.

“Smashingly of course. But if you will excuse us, we have a dance party to get back to.”

Scott disconnects the call before you hear Chris respond back. You give him a smile and resume Demi’s song.

You wake up to another hangover. In your defense, Christmas was months ago. You did pretty well with the whole ‘I’m never drinking again’ thing. Despite Scott being shown where his room is this weekend, he’s asleep next to you. You had managed to change into a t-shirt, but Scott had only managed to take his jacket off. Deciding to let him sleep since he is a guest, you make your way to the bathroom, slipping on a pair of sweats first, and then to the kitchen.

You make pancakes and sausage patties because it’s quick and easy and you really need something in your stomach as soon as possible. It’s already after eleven when breakfast is ready.

Walking back into your bedroom, you crawl back into the bed, running your hand through Scott’s hair to gently wake him. He starts to stir and puts on a sleepy smile.

“Breakfast is ready,” you said softly, withdrawing your hand.

“Well, don’t stop,” he said, eyes still closed.

You let out a giggle and resume rubbing his scalp. “It’s going to get cold.”

When that does nothing to get him moving, you speak again. “I made pancakes.”

“Finnnnee. I’m awake.”

You both spend a lazy day in the pool. Scott lounging on a floaty shaped like a piece of pizza and you on a donut. A frozen pizza is baked around three in the afternoon because your stomach starts to growl much to Scott’s delight.

Jana calls to see how Scott’s visit is going, but you think she’s more calling to pry. When Scott hears his own name, he asks who you are talking to. You tell him it’s Jana and he grabs the phone from your hand. You’re only hearing one side of the conversation but he’s asking her and Brooks to dinner and apparently, they agreed because he tells them we’ll meet them at seven.

Dinner is at a bistro near your house that you’ve eaten at several times before. You always get a cup of French onion soup no matter the time of year.

“Is this one driving you to book an early flight tomorrow?” Brooks teases.

“She won’t let me leave! I don’t know how you worked with her for so long.” Scott replied.

You and Jana shake your heads at their teasing.

“The paper offers great benefits. That’s really the only reason.” Brooks said while shrugging his shoulders.

“You two love me. Don’t give me this shit.”

The table erupts in laughter and you find yourself smiling for a second night in a row.

Scott and you opt for more pool time on Sunday. His flight isn’t until six that night, so neither of you are in a hurry.

“How are you doing?” he asked.

“I’m fine. I’m really glad you came out. This was a lot of fun,” you replied.

“It really was. I’ll bring Zach next time.”

“That’d be great,” you said.

“How are you feeling since the breakup?” Scott asked.

“Mostly good. Ethan was a really good guy, but we moved too quickly. He moved too quickly, but I just went along with it. I’m sad it didn’t work out, but I learned what I don’t like.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” he asked.

“Losing myself. While I was still very much me, I caved a lot. Mostly did what he wanted to do. I love being in a relationship and spending time with someone I care about, but I’m also important. My work is important to me. My friends are important to me. I lost a bit of that when I was Ethan.”

Scott offers you a smile. “You’re still very much Sassy to me.”

“Always,” you replied.

With Scott safely in the air, headed back to L.A., you resume your Christmas in April marathon. You’re phone rings with Chris’ name on the screen. He hasn’t called you in months, so you’re a bit surprised. You hit pause on your movie and hit the call accept button.

“Hi, Chris.”

“Hey sweetheart,” he said.

“Scott’s already on his way home if you are looking for him.”

“Yeah, I know. He called me from the airport. I just wanted to call and talk to you, if that’s alright.” He said.

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s completely alright. Dork,” you chuckle out.

“Oh, I’m the dork? I’m not quite sure about that.”

And just like that, the two of you started to build up your friendship like it was the first time around.

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Chapter 7

#chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans reader insert #scott evans #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fan fiction #chris evans fan fic #chris evans imagine #chris evans au #conversations

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athingthatwantsvirginia · 4 years

Text

Not Joyce or Monet

PART THIRTY-NINE OF THE DO YOU SEE HER FACE? SERIES

Pairing: Jess Mariano x Original Character (Ella Stevens)

Warnings: major discussions of parent death/death in general, smoking, drinking, plentiful pop culture references

Word Count: 6.3K

Summary: Jess publishes his second book and Ella receives a troubling call from Stars Hollow.

Flopping face-first down onto the bed, Ella breathed a sigh of relief. It would have felt strange not to have a little champagne at Jess’s book launch party. But, she was a lightweight. She was floating somewhere between tipsy, buzzed, and drunk. At least she was still capable of slipping off her shoes before making her way to the bedroom. She’d even managed to change into pajamas, brush her teeth, and wash her face. A far cry from the screwdriver incident at Liz’s baby shower. A heavy winter snow fell outside the windows and a touch of cold air seeped into the draughty apartment. Goosebumps rose lightly on her skin. In her state, they felt nice instead of uncomfortable. She was already dozing when Jess came in, having taken a quick shower. His hair was still damp as he climbed into bed next to her, the movement shaking her from her haze.

“Did you like your party?” she murmured, watching as he shut off the lamp and rolled over to face her.

His face was aglow with the bluish light of the snowy Saturday evening. “Mhm.”

She snickered a bit at his nonchalance. “I know you hate parties, but Chris insisted it was the best way to drum up business. And you do like surprises, Mr. Spontaneity. Matthew and I made it as lowkey as we could.”

“It wasn’t so bad, Eleanor. Really,” he said, shrugging. “You’re remembering that you whispered lines from Catch-22 in my ear all night, right?”

“I figured you’d need some Joseph Heller to make it through,” she explained, slightly sheepish.

Jess smiled. “Of course. And watching Chris and Leo get so drunk they do their acapella version of ‘Under Pressure’ could never be bad.”

“Leo does do a damn good Freddie Mercury,” Ella agreed, chuckling. “I didn’t realize the publishing agents would all go blackout level, too.”

“Oh, yeah. You should’ve seen what Chris did for the Subsect launch. It was like that scene where E.T. gets drunk. But if there were fifty aliens in the movie instead of just one,” Jess said flatly, begrudgingly.

“You must be a little drunk if you’re letting a cheesy eighties movie slip. Or have I finally converted you?” she teased, snuggling deeper into the pillow.

Jess smirked. “Not yet. Chris made me try his Manhattans to see if they ‘tasted too much like gasoline.’”

“I have a sneaking suspicion that they did,” Ella said.

“Someone give the lady a prize,” Jess shot back tiredly. “Good thing we walked there.”

“Yeah. And good thing I got to watch you catch a snowflake with your tongue on the way back.”

“Shut up.”

“Hey, don’t be embarrassed, cutie,” she said, forcing her laughter down. “I’ll be eating my words when you watch me fall on my ass while we’re ice-skating with April.”

She knew if he’d been entirely sober, he wouldn’t have gotten so caught up in his wonderment at the storm. But Ella had also seen him sticking out his tongue awaiting a snowflake in an old, yellowing photo album Liz had shown off during her baby shower. In it, Jess had been no more than three. Dressed in a raggedy winter jacket on some grimy corner of New York City. He and Liz were sticking their tongues out together. Seeing the photo had given Ella’s mouth a bittersweet taste. It was hard to imagine Jess ever feeling so relaxed around his mother. She saw the same rare awe from him on the walk home. Most of the time, he was so weighed down by the world he could barely come up for air. She thought she had never seen him look so young at heart before.

“Can’t wait,” Jess hummed, mocking. It was nearly time for April’s winter break, and Anna had somehow agreed to let her spend it with Luke, Lorelai, and Rory. Ella and Jess had opted to return to Stars Hollow for Christmas, after the bumps in the road on Thanksgiving. Two more days, and they’d be braving the icy roads on their way up to Connecticut. April had already called them to schedule a time for ice-skating. The proper, analytical way the little girl spoke never failed to amuse Ella.

“Me neither,” Ella quipped as her eyelids began to droop again. She could smell the minty scent of Jess’s shampoo.

As he watched her begin to drift off, he leaned in to press a kiss to her forehead. From what Matthew had said, Ella had essentially been put in charge of the party when Chris’s trademark irresponsibility made an appearance. Matthew had jury duty and couldn’t assume his usual role of organizer in the wake of Chris’s chaotic decision-making. What she’d managed to throw together, though, was one of the better parties Jess had ever been to. The publishers they knew usually sent younger employees to the underground press launches, and Chris had ended up making friends with most of the usual suspects at the launch for Jess’s first book. Ella had made sure the guest list only included familiar faces. If they just had to throw him a surprise party, which Chris demanded (normally, she wouldn’t have listened, but if it was a matter of getting his book better exposure, she was willing to risk it), she’d try to make it as comfortable for him as possible. Or, at the very least, bearable.

And she’d just gotten done with finals two days earlier. He could see how tired she was. Her nerves over the possibility of seeing her father during the winter holidays hadn’t helped her sleeping recently either. Though Jess wasn’t sure how it would actually pan out, she claimed she wanted an attempt at apologizing for what she’d said at Adam’s graduation. She was sick of family nonsense, she said. Maybe if she levelled the playing field, they could begin to understand each other again. Ella herself wasn’t sure exactly what had sparked her desire to try again with her family, but suspected it might have been Thanksgiving. Jess, simply put, was someone she admired. Seeing him trying to mend his relationships (even though he didn’t have to, even though it was difficult), made her feel just a little more confident. Maybe not everything turned out bad, after all.

Shutting his own eyes, Jess slipped his hand beneath Ella’s shirt, his fingertips ghosting over her back. She smiled softly at his touch, feather-light. A pleasant shiver rolled through her.

“Thank you for the party,” he said, barely above a whisper.

“Well, thanks for writing my new favorite book,” she answered instantly, sleepy and sincere. “I’m so fucking proud of you.”

. . .

There were still a couple hours left until lunchtime when Ella slipped through the door at Truncheon, but it wasn’t entirely uncommon for her to show up and work a little. Especially when she was on break from school and got antsy. Jess had debated giving her the easel he’d bought her for Christmas early, so she would have something new to focus on while he tied up the odds and ends at the book press. But, ultimately, he wanted to wait until the morning after they returned to Philadelphia. It would be far more surprising to wake up and find a Christmas present wrapped up in the living room on the morning of New Year’s Day than on the actual gift-giving holiday.

When he’d left for his last day of work prior to their trip to Connecticut, she’d still been half asleep. Her sketchbook was open on her bedside table, a pencil drawing of a child with hollow eyes having yet to be shaded. She’d been up late working on it the night before, on a roll. He hadn’t even shut the door to the apartment before she was out cold again. He’d been anxious to get back home, to pack and prepare for the trip. In his opinion, there was no use in only opening for a Monday and then closing for the holidays the rest of the week, but Matthew’s stickler spirit won out. Jess wasn’t going to be skipping around the store in merriment as the rest of the world took a vacation, but he also wasn’t moping around like Chris. He was in the midst of diffusing an argument between his two coworkers when Ella arrived.

He wanted to smile when he saw her, and almost did. But then he got a good look at her hazel eyes, and immediately he could tell something was wrong. It wasn’t that she was sleepy, though she looked a bit haggard in with her peacoat tied around her haphazardly and her hair wild, dotted with the snowflakes falling steadily outside. Instead, she looked almost unreachable. His Eleanor who was always so present and vivid and alive, even in the midst of drudgery. And she wasn’t daydreaming, either. She wasn’t off in her own thoughts, thinking of Emily Dickinson or James Joyce or Claude Monet. No; she was simply not there. Not really.

“Hey, honey. You’re early,” he began as she approached him, where he stood in between Matthew and Chris. The two of them didn’t even notice she’d come in until Jess addressed her, still too caught up in their argument over where to place the new books of free-form poetry.

Swallowing harshly, Ella gave a weak smile and raked her fingers through her hair. She walked up to them, wringing her hands together. Jess didn’t need to see her hands to know she had already bitten her nails down to the quick. At the interruption, Chris gave a frustrated huff and turned to Ella.

“Ella, please tell Matthew it makes zero sense to put the free-form poetry anywhere near the sonnets! They should be on opposite ends of the store, as far as I’m concerned,” he exclaimed in exasperation.

Matthew rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest as his jaw clenched. “I’m glad you’re here, Ella. Please tell Chris that we don’t only sell poetry, and free-form or not, it has no business anywhere near science fiction!”

Furrowing her brows, distracted, Ella shook her head. “Um...I don’t know...but I….”

“What?” Jess asked as she gestured slightly with her hands. Her face was pale, and she almost seemed confused, at a loss for words. It didn’t happen to her often, to say the least.

Blowing out a breath, she tried again, jerking her thumb back over her shoulder. “Back at the apartment...I just got a call from my brother. My dad’s dead.”

Jess’s heart dropped into his stomach. “What?”

“Yeah,” Ella said, nodding. As she continued, she took a hair elastic from her wrist and began pulling her locks into a ponytail. “Adam said he was in a car accident this morning. Driving home from some bar in Maryland. If I had to guess, he was still a little drunk from last night. No one else got hurt, which is good. He hit a patch of black ice, and he was going too fast, and I guess he just went right off the road. Into a tree. And he wasn’t wearing his seatbelt.”

Her speech became more urgent with every word, as they heard it sink in for her in real time. But she was never frantic, only determined and stern. The spacey fog was fading from her demeanor, though it remained in her eyes. Only in her eyes. She didn’t give them time to respond, just kept thinking out loud.

“Noah’s already on a plane from Oregon, but I don’t think he’s gonna be any help. And Adam said Fiona’s freaking out, so I’m almost definitely going to have to make the arrangements. I know you guys have work and stuff, but we need to pack up and get there before the rest of the family does, or everything will probably just explode on principle. Fuck! This is just like him. To die a week before Christmas!”

“Whoa, hey, Eleanor, just slow down for a second, okay?” Jess began, taking a hesitant step towards her and grabbing her hand. He squeezed once, hard, hoping to calm her down at least a little.

“Jesus, Ella-” Chris began.

“I’m so sorry,” Matthew said.

Ella shook her head, her face stoic. “Don’t, okay? Don’t be sorry. No one needs to be sorry. He was a fucking drunk, and it finally caught up with him. I just need to get back to Stars Hollow to take care of this, and then maybe Christmas won’t be completely ruined. Sound good?”

“Elle, just hold on. You should sit down and-” Jess said, but she cut him off.

“No, Jess. Seriously, I’m fine. Let’s just go and get it over with, and then it’ll be done,” she said, her hand never leaving his though she didn’t squeeze back. Her tone was tight, clipped, but she didn’t sound angry. He recognized it from the night on the bridge when she’d told him about the days following her mother’s death. The way she held it all together, and blocked it all out. Numb and headstrong.

“Do you want us to come with?” Matthew asked, watching with uncertainty as Ella began to tug Jess towards the door, grabbing his bag for him and handing him his coat.

“What? Of course not,” Ella said, insistent, as though it were obvious. “All I need to do is steal Jess for a few days. You need to do whatever it is you’re gonna do with Mabel. And Chris needs to do whatever it is he’s gonna do with Leo, and you need to tell me about it when we get back. I can pretty much guarantee your stories will be more fun than mine.”

“Are you sure?” Chris chimed in, brow heavy with worry. Her iciness surprised him. He had never heard someone react to a parent’s death quite so flippantly before.

“Yes. Jesus, Chris, keep up,” she replied, in a way which would have spurred a playful argument on a normal day. Again, her nonchalance unnerved all three of them.

Jess interlocked their fingers again instantly once he had his bag and his coat, almost heading out the door already. She was moving too fast for him to process much of anything, only reacting. He hadn’t seen her in such a frenzy in a very long time. “Eleanor, wait. Stop.”

“I can’t stop, Jess. I told you, we’ve gotta get there before my uncle has time to hit on Fiona and before Noah has time to piss off Adam. It’s fine. I promise. I’m fine.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but she pulled him out the front door instead. As they went, she shouted over her shoulder to Matthew and Chris: “Happy holidays! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

And then, she and Jess were gone. Chris and Matthew exchanged concerned, flabbergasted glances.

. . .

Flashback was the word that came to the forefront of her mind, as she stared up at the ceiling in the Gilmore living room. Luke and Lorelai were trying, and she appreciated it. They could both tell she didn’t want to talk about it, only wanted a bit of normalcy after the long day. And they’d obliged. After all, they’d had practice. Lorelai knew exactly what to do. She’d had Luke bring dinner home from the diner: turkey sandwiches and sodas. She’d suggested they watch a movie after dinner, something campy horror. Finally, they had settled on The Lost Boys. Ella knew how much Jess hated the movie, especially Kiefer Sutherland’s mullet, but he never complained once. A large part of her wished he would. She wanted it to be the way it was supposed to be. She wanted to have Christmas in Stars Hollow with the people who felt more like her family than her father did. Adam celebrating with one of his school friends in Boston, Fiona with her sister, Noah with his finacée in Oregon. But, of course, things never went as planned. Not in Ella’s experience at least.

At some point during the movie, she’d fallen asleep on the couch. No matter how much she wanted to stay awake until the end, she couldn’t keep her eyes open. Dealing with Fiona’s blubbering and Adam’s silence and Noah’s anger had pretty well exhausted her. Not to mention the business setting up the funeral at the church. She’d spent nearly two hours with the pastor, but the service was only halfway planned. She wished Aunt Julie could arrive sooner, but the girls were in school until Tuesday. Erin had some big recital she was pitching a fit about missing. Ella couldn’t blame her. She wouldn’t want to be there if she didn’t have to be. No, they would arrive on Wednesday morning. Two hours before the funeral, set for noon. At some point before then, Ella would have to sort out the flower arrangements and the music and the programs. At least Luke was providing the food. She assumed he would before he even offered. And she would have to write the eulogy. But she wasn’t even thinking about it yet. Every time the idea of writing it entered her mind, she would start humming a Stevie Nicks song and pointedly ignore it.

It was all too familiar. The planning, the writing, the consoling. Since they’d arrived in Stars Hollow that afternoon, it had been a non stop barrage of tasks and tears. None of it was surprising. And it almost made her want to laugh. The minute she heard that her mother was dead, she had burst out laughing, a nervous reaction she couldn’t control. Granted, the laughter came from deep inside her, and probably resembled a pained shriek more than an actual giggle. But it was laughter nonetheless, and her father had recognized it as such. He’d yelled at her until his voice became hoarse. She knew it wouldn’t happen again. He was the dead one now, after all. But still, she didn’t let the anxious laughter escape. She didn’t let anything escape. After the punishment she’d received for letting go last time, she knew not to do it again. No one was there to smack her, to scream, but she just couldn’t bring herself to forget how it had felt. Like she couldn’t even grieve right. And the best way to grieve became to not grieve at all.

She laid with one hand on her stomach and the other behind her head, analyzing the popcorn ceiling. She’d awoken with the room dim and the TV shut off. A quilt which she hadn’t fallen asleep under was draped over her, and there were hushed whispers in the direction of the kitchen. She hadn’t planned to wake up until morning, but she hadn’t planned to fall asleep there either. They were supposed to be sleeping in the apartment above the diner for the vacation, while Rory and April took the spare beds in the Gilmore house. But neither girl had yet to arrive, and Lorelai insisted Ella and Jess stay over after dinner. It was no use driving over in the snow, even if Luke’s was only about a minute away. Ella couldn’t believe how similar it all was to before. Sleeping alone on the Gilmore couch as others worried over her a few feet away.

She listened, in spite of herself. It was too tempting not to eavesdrop when she’d already heard her name so many times. Luke was concerned about her forgetting to eat. Lorelai was concerned about her shutting everyone out and being overwhelmed by the funeral preparations. And both of them were concerned about her coming to blows with Fiona at some point in the next few days.

Sighing, Ella ran her tongue over her teeth and remembered she hadn’t brushed them. She debated not doing so, but decided to just bite the bullet. With everything else on her mind, she thought it best to eliminate all the outward elements which might impede her from getting back to sleep. She rolled over on her side, preparing to sit up, when she saw Jess. She thought he’d be in the kitchen, talking with Luke and Lorelai. Instead, he sat on the floor with his back against the sofa. His head was near hers, leaned back. His eyes were closed, but he wasn’t snoring. She doubted he was fully asleep, but nonetheless attempted to get past him and rummage through the bag on the armchair to find her toothbrush. Her stealth proved lacking, however, when he began to stir as soon as she reached the bag.

“Hey,” he said quietly, rubbing at his eyes with the heels of his hands and doing his best to seem lively. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she replied, fishing her toothbrush out from the sea of clothes she’d thrown into the duffel before they sped away from the apartment in Philadelphia. “I just forgot to brush my teeth.”

“Oh,” he said, nodding and hoisting himself up. His neck was already sore from the position he’d dozed off in, unwilling to follow Luke and Lorelai into the kitchen with Ella asleep on the couch. “Me too. I’ll come with.”

She nodded back, grabbing his toothbrush as well. The whispers didn’t cease until they made their way into the kitchen, Luke and Lorelai looking up at their entrance. Ella debated using the upstairs bathroom, not disturbing the two of them. But she didn’t have the energy to climb the stairs, and it would be the first time she could get a good look at the new half-bathroom they added next to Rory’s room. The smell of the diner food lingered, and it made Ella’s chest feel just a touch less tight. Lorelai broke out into a small smile at the sight of the two of them.

“You need anything, sweetie?” she asked, speaking only to Ella.

Though she felt a bit uncomfortable under everyone’s gaze, Ella smiled back. There was a warmth in her stomach at Lorelai’s voice. She focused on that feeling, and only that feeling. “No, we’re fine. Just brushing our teeth. The dentist would be pissed at me if I broke the pattern after over twenty years.”

“That’s true. Always best to avoid the Sweeney Todd dentistry possibility,” Lorelai agreed, nodding. Then, she yawned theatrically and looked at Luke, who only rolled his eyes at the dramatics. “I think we’re gonna head upstairs. It’s past our bedtime.”

“Still got those four o’clock deliveries, huh?” Jess asked sullenly, eyeing Luke. Many a morning when he was a teenager, he’d been awoken at half past three by the sound of Luke’s alarm.

Luke sighed. “For the business that housed and fed you for two years? Yeah, I do.”

Ella snorted a laugh, and nudged Jess playfully in the ribs. “Like you’re not always up before the sun, even on Saturday.”

“Where do you think that started?” Jess shot back, pointing an accusatory finger at Luke. “He screwed with my internal clock for life!”

“I think that’s enough fuel for future therapy sessions for tonight,” Lorelai announced, rising from the table, Luke following.

“Agreed,” Luke grumbled.

As they exchanged goodnights, Lorelai gave Ella a kiss on the cheek. Immediately after, she scrunched up her nose and smudged the lipstick from Ella’s freckled skin with her thumb. To Ella’s shock, Lorelai also gave Jess a short hug before making for the stairs. Luke hugged Jess, too. The two of them still had trouble showing physical affection for each other, as they probably always would. Ella had to stifle a laugh at the awkwardness between them.

When Luke hugged Ella, though, she felt tears prick at her eyes for the first time all day. She recognized his familiar smell, the soft feeling of his flannel, his strong arms around her. Somewhere in her mind, it occurred to her that the way it felt for Luke to hug her was what she had always wanted it to feel like when her own father hugged her. And she knew for sure she would never get it from him. She could finally be certain there was nothing left to do to repair her relationship with him. There was no time left for Jake to make her feel as safe as Luke made her feel. As he never had, even in her childhood. But by the time she and Luke broke apart, she had gathered herself enough. She cleared her throat and blinked away the glassy sheen in her eyes.

Luke ruffled her hair as he stepped back from her. If he saw that she was upset, he didn’t acknowledge it. “Don’t worry, kid. We’ll get everything figured out tomorrow.”

“I know, boss,” she replied.

. . .

The cigarette smoke made her a bit nauseous, but it was also comforting in a way she was slightly ashamed of. The winter air was crisp and biting, and her cheeks were frosted roses. Embers glowed orange in the darkness as she took a long drag, burning her lungs. She was already regretting it, but she simply felt too tired to think out the actual consequences of what she was doing. She had tried. She really had. But falling asleep, with Jess snoring softly beneath her as they lay on the couch, was absolutely impossible. Fatigue was weighing down her bones, and there was a perpetual ache throbbing behind her eyes. But each time she got close to sleep, the thought of her father would flash across her mind, and she would be wide awake once more.

Once she gave up, she had managed to sneak outside unnoticed. The wind whispered past her, hollow and haunting. But maybe everything was feeling spookier because death was at the forefront of her mind. Then again, when wasn’t it? Though the shock had certainly hit her with full force when she heard the news, she couldn’t bring herself to be surprised. The other shoe had dropped. She knew it would, just when she let her guard down. The moment she forgot to worry, the universe had knocked her down again. She flicked her cigarette and watched the excess ash melt a small spot in the snow below the steps.

At the sound of the front door creaking open, she startled only a little. For a wild moment, she wanted to put her cigarette out and hide it behind her back, pretending to be innocent. Especially if it was Luke. But she had to remember she was a grown up. And the feeling disappeared entirely when she saw only a disheveled Jess wrapping himself up in his jacket as he came out onto the porch and sat down next to her.

“You’re gonna catch a cold out here,” he remarked, holding her peacoat out to her.

She took it with a trembling hand.

“Thank you,” she said solemnly, breathing out a long stream of smoke as she spoke. The coat was old and cheap, and did little to help a Connecticut winter, but she shrugged it on anyway.

He nodded, chewing on his bottom lip. “Don’t mention it.”

They sat in silence, an owl hooting somewhere in the trees beyond the house. Ella didn’t put the cigarette out until it got so small it began to burn her fingers. After she’d discarded it, her breath still puffed out, along with Jess’s, in frigid white clouds. Flurries of snow fell in scattered sprays, but the night was mostly quiet and overcast. Jess crossed his arms over his chest, waiting.

She spoke, as he knew she eventually would, after a few more minutes. Gesturing down to the crushed cigarette, her tired eyes met his. “Do you want one?”

“No, thanks,” he said, shaking his head. “Where’d you get those in the middle of the night in Stars Hollow, anyway?”

A thin smirk ghosted over her lips. “Snatched ‘em off Bootsy’s newsstand.”

“Really?” he asked, laughing slightly, with eyebrows raised.

She snorted and rolled her eyes. “Don’t act so surprised, Mariano. I was sneaking out of my bedroom window long before you got here.”

“Touché.” His eyes lingered on her, hair glistening golden in the soft light and eyes still far off somewhere miles away. He hesitated before he continued. “Did you walk all the way to Bootsy’s without a coat?”

She shrugged, glancing down at the Doc Martens on her feet. “I’m fine. I had my good shoes on. Besides, it’s only like a minute away.”

“Alright.”

“Seriously, Jess. I’m fine,” she snapped after a moment.

“Okay. I get it,” he said instantly. “You’re fine. You’re not cold.”

Ella ran her hands through her hair. Her body shook as she yawned.

“You wanna go back to bed?” he asked.

“No,” she said with a heavy sigh.

“Are you sure?”

“Jesus, Jess! Stop trying to take care of me! Stop asking me questions! Just let me fucking sit here!” Ella exclaimed, huffing in frustration.

Jess recoiled slightly, and he nodded at her again. He ran a hand over his mouth and swallowed down the million other questions which were rising in his throat. The ones she’d refused to ask on the drive up, and the ones she apparently still wanted to avoid. “Sorry.”

She rolled her eyes, mostly at herself. “No, I’m...I’m sorry. I’m just tired. I couldn’t fall asleep.”

“We don’t have to sleep if you don’t want to. We could watch one of Lorelai’s cassettes in there,” Jess suggested, fighting hard to keep his tone light, bracing for whatever reaction she was going to have.

“I love that she still has cassettes,” Ella said wistfully, though not smiling. Her voice was low and raspy as she stared out ahead of her into the darkness and the lightly falling snow.

He nodded a little. “I know you do.”

Ella’s hands were itching to hold another cigarette, but she fought the urge. The pack which sat on the porch steps next to her would almost certainly be crumpled up and thrown in the trash the moment she reentered the house. Along with the lighter. But it was nice to have them there. If she wanted. They sat wordlessly, listening to the rustle of the wind in the evergreen trees. Jess didn’t make a sound. He was just far away enough not to touch her, almost in silent askance of whether she wanted space. She did. And she didn’t want to talk. She didn’t want to talk almost as much as she didn’t want to write the eulogy. She wanted to be able to push down the sorrow and the rage until they just dissolved and she was as happy as she had been just a day earlier. Yesterday, she may have even been hopeful. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt hopeful about her family. But, now, she had to stop herself from reaching for a cigarette yet again. And she felt herself wanting a drink. A drink stronger than champagne at a book launch. And then the words started flowing before she could overthink them, before she could lock them away in her heart forever.

She swallowed thickly, looking down into her lap at her nail-bitten hands. “This is just like it was the last time.”

“Oh yeah?” he whispered, shifting a bit closer to her.

“Yeah,” she echoed, so quiet he almost couldn’t hear. She sniffed. “I mean, last time my dad was the devastated one instead of Fiona. But Adam still got pissed at Noah, and Noah only got more pissed because Adam was mad at him.”

Noah had only made it to town an hour before Ella left to go back to the Gilmore residence for the night, but he and Adam were at each other’s throats pretty much as soon as they saw each other. Upset that his Christmas vacation was being disrupted, Noah had insisted on staying at a motel instead of at the little blue house in which they had grown up. Adam wasn’t happy about it, accusing Noah of acting as though he was too good for them. In turn, Noah asked Adam why he wasn’t mad at Ella for staying with Lorelai. Adam had shot back immediately, saying Noah had abandoned the entire family the minute he could, while Ella stayed behind. At that point, Ella knew there was no way to diffuse the situation. She’d only offered to walk back with Noah to the motel, leaving Adam to sleep in his old room. Luckily, Fiona’s sister was already in town for the holiday. So, it didn’t wholly fall to any of the three of them to console her.

Jess and Luke had both offered to go over to the house with her after helping with the arrangements, but she’d insisted on meeting her brothers there alone. The surreality of the moment didn’t dawn on her until she saw Adam’s teary eyes and Noah’s flushed face. It was like she had stepped into the past. She’d come back to the Gilmore house to find Jess sitting in the living room, halfway through the Russian novel he’d brought with. In the face of his questions, she’d only given him the liner notes and then fallen mostly silent for the rest of the evening.

“And Lorelai and Luke won’t let me brush my teeth without asking me if I need anything,” Ella continued, with a scoff in her words. “And, I love them. I do. And I’m so fucking grateful that it hurts. But, I’m fine. I’m totally fucking fine.”

“So I’ve heard,” he quipped.

“You’re hilarious.”

“I’ve heard that, too,” he said.

She laughed breathily, lifting her head to look up at the sky. “Shut up.”

“Will do.”

Then, after a moment: “I just wish...I wish it wasn’t like this. I mean, he was a shitty dad. But he was still my dad.”

He watched as she chose her words, carefully. Her voice had more emotion than he’d heard all day. Bringing his arm around her shoulders, he hoped to lessen the trembling of her hands just a little. She leaned into him, letting herself feel his warmth but fighting the wateriness in her voice. Of all the things she didn’t want to do, crying was at the top of the list.

“And now...I don’t have parents. I don’t even have a dad who hates me and never calls,” she continued.

“He didn’t hate you,” Jess interjected.

She shook her head. “Yeah, he did, Jess. He fucking hated me. Because I looked like my mom and I didn’t like Fiona and I wouldn’t quit talking back at the dinner table. But it doesn’t bother me. I hated him most of the time, too.”

He hummed in response, listening.

Her face crumpled for only a moment. But, again, she regained her composure. A couple silent tears threatened to slip over. “But at least I had someone to hate, y’know? Now, it’s just...no one.”

She took in a shaky breath, and Jess began to rub circles over her back. He recognized that her shivering was no longer due to the cold but from the sobs she wouldn’t let loose. Ella’s stomach did a flip, as she clenched her hands into fists. But she just couldn’t hold it in any longer. She let a single wimper pass her lips. And then, the levee broke. She put her head in her hands and finally began to weep, cries from deep within her escaping at last.

“I just...I don’t have p-parents anymore,” she spoke through sobs, trying to get her voice under control but failing miserably. “I’m not anyone’s daughter anymore. I don’t belong to anyone anymore.”

Jess shut his eyes for a moment, feeling a crack in his heart as he heard her anguish. But a part of him was relieved she was finally letting it out. He knew not all of her tears were for her father, but for her mother as well. He’d never seen her cry so hard before, so hard she couldn’t catch her breath and she was beginning to feel sick to her stomach. She stopped being able to talk after a while, only crying, folding in on herself.

“I...I don’t...belong to anyone anymore,” she repeated.

Gnawing on his bottom lip again, Jess smoothed an affectionate hand over her hair. He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. Though he couldn’t see her face, Ella felt her cheeks heat up at his seeing her sob so openly. Jess spoke in a clear, strong tone.

“Listen, Eleanor, I know it feels like you’re alone without them, but that’s not true, okay?” he said.

She let out a tearful scoff.

“Hey, hey, hey, I’m serious,” Jess continued, placing a hand on her damp cheek and turning her face gently so she would look at him.

She wanted to avoid his eyes, embarrassed, but simply couldn’t bring herself to look anywhere else. The sight of him almost made her physically relax.

An earnest crease stood out between his eyebrows when he spoke again. “You belong to me, and I belong to you. That’s how it’s always been, hasn’t it?”

She stared at him for a moment, stunned at his words, as tears kept rolling steadily down her cheeks. But then, her lip began to quiver and she closed her eyes. Jess was worried she was about to get angry again. But instead, she slumped weakly against him. He could feel her tears begin to wet the neckline of his t-shirt as she rested her head on his chest. Breathing out long and slow, Jess wrapped his arms around her. He didn’t know whether his words had helped, but he was doubtful. No amount of talking was going to make her feel any better. He couldn’t crack a joke or start a playful argument or do a magic trick. He could only be there. He simply sat and held her against the wind.

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Friday, October 23, 2020

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Janet DavisonRoyal Expert

The lessons of becoming Diana in The Crown

(Ollie Upton/Netflix)

For Emma Corrin, preparing to take on the role of Diana, Princess of Wales, in The Crown was something of a psychology lesson. The 24-year-old actor assumed the part knowing full well those watching her arrival next month in Season 4 of the Netflix drama will already have well-established impressions of a member of the Royal Family who grew from "Shy Di" to one of the most photographed celebrities and fashion icons of recent times. Those existing impressions made assuming the role “incredibly daunting,” Corrin said in an interview from London. It helped once she got the script and saw the story. But there was also considerable work with a coach on “understanding the psychology behind a lot of what was happening.” And a lot of what was happening to Diana was “incredibly unnatural and quite intense,” Corrin said. At the age of 19, Diana Spencer moved from an apartment she shared with friends in West London into Buckingham Palace after her engagement to Prince Charles, the heir to the throne and a man 13 years her senior. Diana thought “it was going to be the best event of her life and that they were going to live happily ever after, but then [she discovered] he was with another woman,” Corrin said. Along with that, there was the pressure that comes from being a royal in the public eye. “All of these are very extraordinary circumstances, really, for someone to be operating in,” said Corrin. “These things that she was exposed to come with a whole lot of pressures that affect someone’s mentality, and that was really interesting.” Even so, there are still all those impressions viewers will have before they catch their first glimpse of Diana when the new season of The Crown starts streaming on Nov. 15. And what if Corrin’s portrayal doesn’t match those impressions? Does that matter in trying to create a successful portrayal of such a well-known person? Not necessarily. “If you talk to actors who have to play a real person ... especially somebody that is so world famous and familiar as Diana — [the challenge comes] because audiences are expecting that actress to look and sound just like the real thing,” said Bill Brioux, a longtime television columnist and commentator. He looks no further than the actor holding the central role on The Crown for Seasons 3 and 4 as an example of overcoming that challenge. “I think Olivia Colman [as Queen Elizabeth] has shown that you don’t have to be a carbon copy, that you might capture a nuance or an essence of someone,” Brioux said. “Certainly, Colman spent a lot of The Crown looking surprised and perplexed, you know, aghast at times.” And we certainly aren’t used to seeing the Queen looking that way in public. “So I think it will be interesting to see how Diana is received,” Brioux said. As she prepared for the role, Corrin said she became overwhelmed “by the amount of factual information out there about her and also … the thought that I would be portraying someone so well-known." Corrin said she “started work on her mannerisms and her behaviour and figuring out why she did the things she did or what she would feel about certain situations that I was going to be acting. “ Corrin also spoke to Patrick Jephson, Diana’s private secretary. “He knew her very well and was able to provide a lot of insight, which was wonderful.” With Diana, Brioux suggested, there may be more pressure on an actor than if the portrayal was of a person not so well-known. “People all have their own expectations of Diana in their minds,” he said. “You’re going to disappoint a lot of people no matter what you do, so hat’s off to this actress for taking it on. “I think that there’s potential, though, if you come close, to get a lot of rave reviews because everyone knows the subject and that’s how they’ll judge it."

For more on Corrin’s experiences preparing for the role, click here.

A rare day out for the Queen — and no mask

(Ben Stansall/Reuters)

Royal visits can typically give the royal guest the opportunity to see some cutting-edge technology or to meet individuals being recognized for their work or volunteer efforts in helping others in their community. But Queen Elizabeth’s first major public engagement since the coronavirus pandemic struck in March offered more than a chance for her to visit a new defence research centre west of London and check out the latest in explosives detection. The visit to Porton Down, where scientists are also helping in the response to the pandemic, seemed designed to offer a larger symbolism. “I think it was a really important message for her to send that even though … we’ve been in lockdown and we’re facing new restrictions, the Queen was still able to meet people involved in the COVID response,” Roya Nikkhah, a royal correspondent for the Sunday Times newspaper, told the CBC’s Renee Filippone. Still, the visit, which the 94-year-old carried out alongside her grandson, Prince William, sparked questions — and criticism — because neither of them was wearing a mask at a time when Britons must wear face coverings in stores and other indoor spaces. Those involved in the visit were physically distanced, and Buckingham Palace said safety protocols were followed. Reuters reported that staff at the research centre had been tested for COVID-19 before the visit. “Every precaution that could be taken was taken,” said Nikkhah. “That’s why the Queen didn’t have to wear a mask.” Royal author Robert Jobson told the Daily Mail that Elizabeth was sending a “message of confidence to the people.” “She’s going back to work, she'll go about her business in the usual way, but without taking chances. She is reassuring the public that things must go on as normal, wherever it is safe to do so.” The Queen has spent much of the time since the pandemic struck in isolation at Windsor Castle, considered to be her favourite residence. She has returned there recently after spending a few weeks with Prince Philip at Balmoral Castle in Scotland, and a shorter period on her Sandringham estate northeast of London. Throughout the pandemic, Elizabeth has conducted official duties via video or over the phone, and made two appearances within the walls of Windsor Castle — one for a considerably scaled-down recognition of her official birthday in June, and one to bestow a knighthood on Capt. Tom Moore, a 100-year-old honoured for his charity fundraising. Still, it’s unlikely there will be many other outings like her trip to Porton Down anytime soon. “I think [it] was probably a bit of a one-off,” Nikkhah said. “I don’t think we’ll be seeing a lot more of her on public engagements.”

A new portrait for Canada

(Chris Jackson/Getty Images/Government of Canada)

There is also considerable symbolism on display in Queen Elizabeth’s new official Canadian portrait. While the portrait is new to the public, the photo itself was taken more than a year ago, in March 2019 at Windsor Castle, by royal photographer Chris Jackson. He shared it on social media late last week. In the portrait, the Queen is wearing her Canadian insignia as sovereign of the Order of Canada, Jackson said, along with the Order of Military Merit. The diamond and blue sapphire necklace and earrings she is wearing were a wedding day gift from her father, King George VI, in November 1947, and were worn during her five-day trip to Canada in 1990. Jackson said on Instagram that it was an “incredible honour” to have the opportunity to photograph the Queen for the portrait. “I’ve been lucky enough to have visited Canada many times now with members of the Royal Family and have the fondest memories of the people I’ve met.”

Royally quotable

"My family and I knew nothing about it and were at a loss to know how we could help alleviate the terrible pain she suffered."

— Camilla, Duchess of Cornwall,

reflects on her mother’s death from osteoporosis

26 years ago, and went on this week to note the “huge strides” made since then in treatment and research into the disease.

Royals in Canada

(Hans Deryk/The Canadian Press)

When Charles and Diana came to Canada in late October 1991, it was the last trip they made to the country together. And in ways it was two visits in one for the couple, whose collapsing marriage was under intense media scrutiny at the time, as they went their separate ways for much of the seven-day sojourn.

One stop for Diana in Toronto took her to Casey House, a hospice for people who have AIDS.

“Diana had just begun to venture into the issue of AIDS, then repellent to much of society, but it was still surprising that she chose to see a hospice full of very ill people rather than some less harrowing AIDS setting,” Casey House founder June Callwood

wrote in Maclean’s magazine

after Diana’s death in 1997.

Callwood had a mixed view of Diana, but that visit to Casey House, where she sat and visited with hospice residents, left a lasting impression.

Diana “wanted nothing less than to change the world for the better,” Callwood wrote. “And perhaps she did. On that lovely afternoon … she made everyone at a small AIDS hospice in Toronto feel worthwhile. That’s quite a gift.”

Our friends at CBC Archives have taken a closer look at the 1991 visit, which was also the first time both William and Harry went with their parents on a foreign trip.

Royal reads

1. Meghan, Duchess of Sussex, says she

avoids speaking about controversial topics

in an attempt to ensure she doesn’t put her family at risk. She also says she’s been told that in 2019, she was the

“most trolled person in the entire world.”

[BBC, The Guardian]

2. More than 60 years after Queen Elizabeth gave a pair of swans to a city in Florida,

it has sold off three dozen of their descendants

in a bid to ease a crisis in overpopulation of the birds. [The Independent]

3. Thirty years after Diana laid a ceremonial foundation stone for a cancer hospital, her son William

did the same

. [The Daily Mail]

4. Dutch King Willem-Alexander says he

regrets going to Greece for a holiday

after he and his family were criticized for taking a trip during the pandemic. [BBC]

Cheers!

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

Text

Survey #378

“come as you are, as you were, as i want you to be”

Have you ever dreamt in another language? No. How long will you try out something you don’t enjoy before giving up on it? It really depends, but in most cases, admittedly very quickly. What’s something you recently realized or discovered about yourself? *shrug* What’s the most interesting news you read or received recently? What about the most depressing? Not in a good way really, but it was certainly interesting to learn I have such severe sleep apnea. Like, I was certain I didn't. The most depressing would be uhhhh... I guess Jason's mother's death, but I don't know how "recent" you'd consider that by now. Would you let politics get in the way of a relationship? It depends. Some beliefs I absolutely would not tolerate (like anti-LGBT), others I would just agree to disagree with. What is one way in which you need to learn to control yourself? I need to get better at controlling my mouth when I'm extremely upset. Do you use a photo editor? I use Lightroom and Photoshop for photography. Is your dad overweight? No, I think he's actually underweight. Ever been honked at? Yes. What’s the name of the most recent baby a friend has had? Easton, I think? An old middle school friend had him. Have you ever taken medication to help you fall asleep faster? Yes, but they never work for me. How did your parents pick your name? I dunno. If you had to move to another country, where would you move? Canada. Do you have a balcony? No. Who is a singer that has given you chills? Man, I get chills easily with music. David Draiman from Disturbed, his cover of "Sound of Silence" is BREATHTAKING. That's number one. There are many others, they're just not coming to me at the moment. Do you have a drone? No. What was the spiciest thing you’ve ever eaten? Some wings at Buffalo Wild Wings. I got some crazy hot sauce. Have you ever discovered something gross in your food at McDonalds? No. What was the last thing you used sliced bread to make? A sandwich. How long did your shortest relationship last? Like a day lmao. Would you rather have a trampoline or swimming pool? A POOL!!!! I've talked before about how I want one so, SO very badly to exercise my legs without having to worry about sweat, and I can take a break the very moment I need to. Do you own a Snuggie? Yeah, somewhere. Do you listen to any unsigned bands/singers? Who? Yeah, quite a few on YouTube, but my favorite in Jonathan Young. He is SO damn talented. Who is your favorite video game character? Pyramid Head from the Silent Hill franchise. What kind of pictures do you post on Facebook/Instagram/Snapchat most frequently? Mostly of my pets lmao. Have you ever been on vacation with a significant other? No. Have you ever considered “unplugging”/taking a significant period of time away from technology? No. I know I'd never stick to it. Do you prefer to watch a documentary that is about a situation/event or a documentary that is more of a personal character study/biography? The latter. Meerkat Manor comes to mind with that, and everyone knows how much I adore that show. There was also one about rhesus macaques I fell in love with. Basically, I love animal docs, haha. Can you think of a recent time in which you might have been better off resisting, but you did something because you “just couldn’t help yourself”? Probably eating something. When you are getting to know someone, do you tend to worry that the other person will lose interest in you once they get to know the “real” you? Yyyyep. What is something that you would like to do, but really aren’t able to because of your location? (e.g., see art or get a certain job) Man, a lot of things. Photograph meerkats is a biggie. What sort of job do you think is best suited for your skills? Is this an in-demand position or something you’re unlikely to actually get? If I could actually handle the heat and was in good shape to traverse the outdoors, I think I'd be a great wildlife biologist. Even more though, if I could beat my social anxiety, I would ADORE being an animal educator with kids. Do you believe it is the responsibility of businesses, or prominent business leaders (think Bill Gates) to take the lead on social issues whether by using their influence or their money? Saying it's their "responsibility" sounds unfair and puts a lot of weight on their shoulders, but I do feel they should by their own volition and kindness use their position for good, such as through monetary assistance and other things. Have you ever gone to a job interview and realized that you didn’t want the job? Yep. Have you ever asked that someone sacrifice something (a habit, relationship, job, etc.) for you? A habit, yes. Looking back it was stupid as shit. What would you call your body type? Ew. Has anyone ever hacked your accounts before? Yes. Do you enjoy big holiday dinners? Considering I spend them with my sister's bigoted, homophobic, and racist in-laws, not especially. I always feel very uncomfortable and disliked among everyone for being the "black sheep" among 'em. Is your vision good? God no. Even with my glasses, it's very poor. I need a new prescription badly. Do both of your parents have jobs? Mom has something of the sort, like she cleans a local church for a small pay, but it's not really a "job." She's still recovering from cancer, getting her strength back up and such before she can handle a consistent job. Dad's had a job for as long as I've lived. What is something you’ve always wanted a boy to do for you? How heteronormative. But whatever. It's so fucking cheesy, but singing a cute song to me while slowdancing sounds so super adorable to me. What food are you craving right now? I am craving something sweet like you wouldn't believe. It's annoying. Have you ever been in a car accident? Yes. Do you have a lot of scars? Yes, but most are very negligible. I just scar extremely easily. Last person you saw other than your family? My primary doctor. Last movie you’ve seen in theaters? The The Lion King remake. Who was the last person you played a video game with? Ummm I think Girt. Last game you played at an arcade? Zero clue. What was your favorite nursery rhyme as a child? I THINK I particularly liked "The Itsy-Bitsy Spider?" None stand out strongly, though. What is your favorite cousin’s first name? I don’t have a favorite cousin. Would you prefer to travel around the world by yourself or with a friend? I think with a friend to prevent loneliness, but at the very same time, I see a great beauty in traveling on your own. Just taking new things in, seeing so many different cultures, beautiful scenery... I feel it'd be a great chance for exploration of insight. Remind yourself how small you are, that there's a much, much bigger picture than your own problems, that people are so unique but hopefully share common morals... I see a lot of poetry in it. Do you like the smell of coffee? It's one of my favorite smells. If you have a favorite photographer, can you describe their work? I can't possibly pick. I watch literally hundreds on deviantART, and many of them absolutely blow my mind. What’s one aspect of your life that did not turn out as you expected? My lack of a career. Outside of school, have you ever used a thesaurus? Well, online ones for writing. When you see a good-looking girl in skimpy clothing, what is your initial thought? I envy her confidence, like gotdamn girl. Have you ever been in a lighthouse? No. Are you on a laptop or desktop? A laptop. What color is your shower? White. Where do you order your pizza from? Domino's or Little Caesar's. What was the name of the last dog you pet? We've been calling the dog we're holding right now Zoe. Have you ever had anything stolen from you? Yes. Have you ever seen the White House? I don't think so, but it's possible I have when we've driven up to New York, but from a distance. How about Niagara Falls? No. What do you like in your salads and what dressing do you prefer? I just like regular iceberg lettuce with some bacon bits and ranch. Man, that sounds good right about now. Any posters of a band on your bedroom wall? Yeah, Metallica and Marilyn Manson. Do you think it’d be cool to have your body mummified after you die? No. I couldn't rock the mummy look even if I tried, haha. Can you tell the difference between a Scottish & an Irish accent? Not really, no. Can you read music? I used to be able to. Do you work the night shift? I don’t have a job, but if I did, I absolutely do not want to work the night shift anywhere. Have you ever slept over at your best friend’s house? Yes. Is your mother diabetic? Are you? She is, but I'm not. Would you like to learn how to make ceramic pottery? It'd be cool, sure. Ever sang someone to sleep? No. Who did you last kiss? My cat. Why did you last lie? I don't recall. Probably to just avoid confrontation with Mom. What do you put on your hamburgers? Cheese, ketchup, and mustard, generally. Who do you think cares the most about you? My mom. Have you ever sent a dirty picture? No. What’s at the center of your dining table? Honestly, we sit in there so rarely that I don't even know. I think we might have nothing, actually. Have you ever started a rumor? No. Do you like being outside? If it's cool, yes. What’s your favourite condiment? Maybe ketchup. Or honey mustard. Who sang/played the last song you listened to? Chris Motionless is the singer of Motionless In White. I don't know if that's his real last name, though. Do you like yoga? I used to. Now all the bending and shit would make me dizzy as hell with my "how are you still alive" level of low blood pressure. Do you always carry breath mints? No, but I do carry Tictacs with me, but they're for my dry mouth. It forces you to salivate, so it helps. What do you think your reaction would be upon entering the White House? I don't really know. I honestly don't even know how it looks inside. Thinking about it, I'd probably be more scared than anything, waiting for a bomb to drop or some shit lmao. Have you ever grown your own sea monkeys or dinosaurs? OH MY GOD I LOVED those!!! I definitely did! Have you ever thrown a game controller (or the game) and broke it? No, I've never been the type to do that. If I'm SERIOUSLY getting mad, all I do is tighten my grip. Did you ever own an Etch-a-Sketch? Yes. Do/did you ever have glow-in-the-dark stars on your ceiling? I believe so. What movie were you really worked up for that ended up disappointing you? My answer is Warcraft, but only because the fucking orcs' voices were so baritone that I couldn't understand them almost ever lmaooo. Like I had a mild idea of what was going on because of the game, but still. What part of a paper is hardest for you to write? The intro, or the conclusion. Both are difficult to me. Like I want to compose a gripping beginning as well as an end that doesn't just repeat everything I've already said and ends on a strong note. Does it bother you that almost everything is done on computers now? No. KFC Chicken: original or extra crispy? I don't like fried chicken. Think about your first kiss. Did you have any idea what you were doing? I mean, I guess? Like I'd seen kisses enough to know how to give someone a peck. It just came naturally. Did you get Happy Meals just for the toys as a kid? Not just for the toy, but it's the main thing I wanted, sure. Have you ever seen your parents cry? If so, how did it make you feel? Seeing my mom cry absolutely destroys me. I don't want her to hurt EVER. Especially if it's seriously unfair bullshit that has her upset, I also get very angry (not at her, of course) and protective. I've seen Dad tear up once, back when he was telling us about his mother's funeral, and I felt immense surprise more than anything. He does NOT cry. How do you feel about animal testing? It's fucking disgusting and barbaric. Find a different goddamn way. Do you add condiments to your ice cream, or just eat it plain? If I'm having vanilla, I'll usually add chocolate syrup. Have you ever witnessed a crime? Yes. What’s the coolest personalized license plate you’ve ever seen? I'm forever gonna get a kick out of this one that just said "omw," haha.

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''come as you are'' by nirvana #happy pride y'all <3

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liam-93-productions · 4 years

Link

Nearly five years ago, I saw One Direction live. Twice, on consecutive nights – on the first two dates of their On the Road Again world tour. Once was for work, to review the show. The other was for the sheer, heady, sugar-rush pleasure.

I was, I’ll admit, a little on the old side for a Directioner, even then. Most of the 45,000-odd crowd was much younger – not that that you would necessarily be able to tell from the saucy suggestions on their homemade signs. “I don’t want to draw attention to them,” Liam Payne had said fussilyon stage.

It was an on-brand comment for the then-21-year-old Payne, who, had the harried, slightly anxious energy of a father-of-four at Disneyland. And no wonder: it was clear, even to me, that Zayn Malik had checked out, barely bothering to conceal his rolling eyes. He would be gone within the month, marking the beginning of the end (or “indefinite hiatus”) for the biggest boy band in the world.

“It was a point where every day, you didn’t know whether it was going to be the end,” says Payne, sitting in the offices of his PR company in central London. “It was so touch and go, at every single show. I was slowly losing the plot.”

Now 26 and almost totally tattooed, Payne has a new album on which he raps about getting rowdy on Bacardi and being “free” from 1D. At the same time his very-nearly-naked form is plastered on buses and train stations in a provocative ad campaign for Hugo Boss.

Yet Payne is as polite and agreeable as if he were talking to his best friend’s mother. He is tired he says after an energetic early morning music video shoot. “There was a trampoline involved,” he says, sucking on his silver Juul. “It was hell – but it will look great.”

Gym beast and sex symbol are relatively new tags. His role as the diplomat of the group was established from the time they were first assembled from five solo applicants on The X Factor in 2010.

Payne auditioned when he was just 14, but was told by Simon Cowell to “come back in two years”. He did – and, eyes serious beneath his enormous fringe, blew the judges away with a brassy rendition of Cry Me a River.

Growing up in Wolverhampton, he had been a talented cross-country runner – making the reserve list for the British Olympics team. But a fan of Usher, Justin Timberlake and Chris Brown, he was drawn to singing as “the thing that made my parents proudest”. His backup plan, had he not got through on X Factor, was to follow his father into an aircraft fitting factory.

Once grouped in One Direction it took the five boys, then between 16 and 19, to pull together. “At the start we couldn’t get past our own egos,” says Payne. There would be fights over who got to sing what part, and even personal style. “Everybody had their own little thing – it was like having four older brothers.”

Payne went on to write songs for the group, contributing to two-thirds of their 2014 album Four (arguably their best) and even earning a production credit on 2015’s Made in the AM. But in the early days he would be the one to sing the opening part because, he was told at the time, he “used to settle everybody”.

Payne says he was a more experienced performer than the other boys, and a “bit more mature” – which he puts down to spending more time with his dad than his peers, and being so focused on a career in showbusiness. “I’d lived a different lifestyle from 14 to 16. Most kids try alcohol and experiment – I never did any of that because I thought there’s a chance that I might make it.”

Management took advantage of this, he says, telling him his “very specific role” in the group was to keep the rest in line. “I was like, that’s great, innit – because then everyone in the band thinks I’m a dick.” He remembers one of the band’s first hotel stays. “We’ve got plates being thrown out the window, mattresses being ridden down the stairs, and I’m getting calls from the manager saying: ‘You need to sort it out’.”

It wasn’t lost on the fans. Where Malik and Styles were the heartthrobs, Payne says he was classed as Mr Boring. “When you’re at the stadium, and if you get the least screams, it’s like: ‘For fuck’s sake.’”

After a year playing 1D-Dad he gave up and learned to have fun. “If you can’t beat them, join them” – at which point, he notes wryly, the band’s public image became more cheeky and carefree. “And the more fun we had, the more successful it got.”

He recalls performing to sold-out stadiums night after night, seeing “hundreds” of iPhones being thrown onstage in the vain hopes of their being returned with a selfie. “It’s like the kids just lost their minds.”

“There were parts of it that were a bit shit, like there is with anything,” he says, “and there were parts of it that was just euphoria.”

He recalls seeing 15,000 fans camped outside his hotel room in Lima, Peru. Security had advised them to stay inside all day, and because “they were the adults, we thought they were in charge. Then over time we started to figure out that they weren’t, and that’s when we used to run off.”

Yet the adrenaline peaks of performing, followed by long troughs of tedium, were akin to a drug addiction, says Payne. He turned to alcohol. “Doing a show to however many thousands of people, then being stuck by yourself in a country where you can’t go out anywhere – what else are you going to do? The minibar is always there. ”

For a time, he was also taking an epilepsy drug as a mood stabiliser that he says affected his cognitive functioning under certain lights. Payne says he had been well advised to take it, to counter the “erratic highs and lows” he was experiencing – “I just needed a little bit of help to keep me stable” – “but under certain lights on stage or during interviews, I wouldn’t be able to tell them my name”.

The day we meet, Payne has made headlines for telling Ant Middleton on the pair’s Sky One show that the loneliness of fame had “almost nearly killed” him. When Middleton asked Payne if he had ever wanted to act on those feelings, Payne said that he had: “100%”.

He is not inclined to discuss this today, “because it’s a bit dark,” he says, a touch brusquely – “but yeah, it was very touch and go at times”. This was both in 1D and afterwards, he clarifies. As One Direction got bigger and bigger, he says, “I was like: ‘I don’t really know how to deal with this’. Once you start, you can’t really press the stop button.”

The “indefinite hiatus” button, though, was easier – in mid-2015, four months after Malik’s departure, the band made the decision together. “It was a little bit dark and twisted towards the end of it,” says Payne, “but the last few shows were really beautiful moments because the pressure cooker had been let off.

“It was almost like counting down to holiday – we were going to wake up that Monday morning with no schedule.” Afterwards Payne was in therapy for two years, and took six months off. “It was difficult at the start, because I didn’t really know anything about myself. It was a bit of a numb feeling.”

(...)

That schedule is about to get busier, with Payne’s debut album as a solo artist finally out this Friday. Laden with chart-friendly trop house, trap and Latin pop influences, LP 1 plays like a water cannon aimed at commercial radio – there is even a Christmas song.

It has been a long lead-up: the first single, Strip That Down, was released nearly two years ago and established Payne as the 1D member most influenced by contemporary hip-hop – perhaps too much so. A picture he posted to Instagram of himself in February 2018 wearing a chain necklace, flipping the bird and bragging about travelling by private jet was quietly deleted following ridicule.

Amid the success of Strip That Down, which was streamed over 1bn times, Payne was also still “struggling” with alcohol: “I just hid it very well.” He went on to spend an entire year sober – a necessary if boring step. “My social life completely plummeted. I always feel like you never get past the awkward first 10 minutes at a party, when everyone’s like: ‘Do we get up and dance, or do we just sit here?’ I don’t know whether it made me happier, but it was definitely needed.”

His more recent stint of self-discipline was to prepare for his nude photo shoot with model Stella Maxwell for Hugo Boss. In the lead-up, he was in the gym between “five and eight times a week, sometimes twice a day” and eating mostly chicken and vegetables – with no carbohydrates after 2pm and nothing at all after 8pm. For the last “stripping” phase, he ate nothing but porridge and white fish for a month. “It was horrible – but it definitely works.”

The shoot had been his idea, inspired by campaigns featuring David Beckham and Mark Wahlberg – Payne’s role models, whose cross-disciplinary celebrity shapes his own career goals. Last year he auditioned in front of Steven Spielberg for a part in next year’s West Side Story remake, and has been submitting audition tapes irregularly since. “It’s just trying to manage the time in between (...), singer, model and whatever.”

Between the trap beats, tighty-whities and tattoos is he attempting to put across a new, more grown-up image? “Oh yeah, definitely.”

In One Direction, he was “Mr Vanilla – no one wanted to know a thing”. Then, with the “chain and rapper phase … I didn’t really know what I was aiming for, but it was actually exactly where we are right now. I just needed to find the right keys to make me feel like the man I wanted to be.”

Which is, he jokes, is “like a really English Magic Mike”. Do you like being objectified, I ask? “I think it’s quite funny,” says Payne, clearly delighted. The other day, he says, someone sent him a picture of an old lady walking past an enormous blown-up poster of him in his pants. Not bad for Mr Vanilla, I say. “Exactly.”

Liam Payne’s debut album LP1 is out on Friday 6 December

#liam payne #the guardian #one direction #lp1 #liam's interviews #02.12.2019

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bamon4bamily · 4 years

Text

TVD 9x15 - Dream a little dream... (Part 1) Enjoy! =)

Cut to – the secret facility, around 3am. All the guests from the Thanksgiving dinner party have left. Augustus and Darius are having a little one on one before heading to bed.

AUGUSTUS: So, how does it feel to be back from La-la land? You really had us worried for a while. Thought you were a goner.

DARIUS: How long was I out for?

AUGUSTUS: Almost a month… You’re lucky Veritas was able to use his psychic juju to break the illusion. I was about to give up.

DARIUS: Given our history, I’m surprised you even tried.

AUGUSTUS: Well, bygones. And, Pietro can be very persuasive, he insisted we get you back.

DARIUS: I’ll have to thank him for that. Listen, I know we don’t always see eye to eye, and I know I made some mistakes, but we need to find a way to get over our differences, and see this through to the end.

AUGUSTUS: I agree. That’s the only reason I accepted to do this. Also, I have to admit, you do have some irreplaceable talents.

DARIUS: As do you, from what I’ve been seeing… I could have sworn I saw Tamara at the dinner party. What are you, making clones now?

AUGUSTUS: (Smirks) Oh no, clones are of no real use. And, unlike you, I don’t like to tamper with nature. What you saw was technology at its best.

DARIUS: So, like robots, basically?

AUGUSTUS: Not exactly; more like artificial intelligence. Specifically, it’s called ASI, an artificial intelligence superior to human intelligence or ability. The superhuman, as we like to call it in the geek community.

DARIUS: And they call me the crazy one.

AUGUSTUS: Don’t confuse using technology in our advantage with a god complex, and a bad case of fatal attraction. You really lost it, Darius; almost sabotaged the order’s plan to cater to your fantasies. We can’t have that happen again, so, I hope you understand, some adjustments had to be made.

DARIUS: What are you talking about?

AUGUSTUS: Let’s just say, you didn’t get that scar on your head by accident…

DARIUS: What did you do to me?

AUGUSTUS: Don’t worry, nothing drastic. All I did was install a type of control button, to put it in a way. Just to make sure you don’t go rogue on us again. Can’t blame us for including an insurance policy after the mess you made. (Yawns) Well, I think it’s time I call it a night.

DARIUS: Question, did that “tweak” of yours involve some sort of weird programming with the movie Sunset Boulevard?

AUGUSTUS: The fifties noir film?

DARIUS: Yes.

AUGUSTUS: Well, I am a big fan, but no; that’s all you, pal. Anyway, I need my rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.

DARIUS: Sweet dreams…

AUGUSTUS: (Somewhat confused) Uhm… okay. Make sure you get some sleep (he leaves).

DARIUS: I will, eventually… (Darius dozes off in a daydream sort of state; the song Wicked Game by Hula-Hifi, lingering in his mind).

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Cut to – The Salvatore mansion. Damon and Bonnie’s room, around 3 am. Damon wakes up suddenly, sweating and breathing heavily. He turns to Bonnie, she’s not in the bed. He gets up, knocks on the bathroom door, no answer. He opens the door, she’s not inside. Vamps downstairs, finds her watching T.V in the family room.

DAMON: Hey, Bon-Bon; what are you doing?

BONNIE: Couldn’t sleep, and I didn’t want to wake you, so…

DAMON: (Peeks to see what she is watching) Sunset Boulevard, love this movie.

BONNIE: Come, join me.

DAMON: (Vamps speeds to cuddle with her) You okay?

BONNIE: Fine, just a bad case of insomnia.

DAMON: Want some popcorn?

BONNIE: Is the answer ever no when it comes to that question?

DAMON: (Smirks, gets up) One order of large popcorn coming right up (gives her a peck on the lips, and vamps to the kitchen. Bonnie continues to watch the movie; at some point she begins to feel sleepy and dazed, almost immediately, she falls into a deep sleep).

Cut to – 1950, Hollywood, California. The cast and crew, of what promises to be the next Oscar winning film, are getting ready for another day of shooting on set. The lead actress, a true Hollywood diva, is in her dressing room rehearsing some lines. The lead actor walks in the room, hands her a cup of coffee.

KAT: Every day I tell you I hate that…

IAN: And every day I do it anyway.

KAT: Can you just get out, before I have security take you out.

IAN: Is that any way to treat your co-star?

KAT: The only reason you got this job is because your daddy is the head of the studio, you are a horrible actor.

IAN: Kitty Kat, that hurts my feelings. Not everyone can sleep their way to the top, if you know what I mean… Shall we do the count? Joseph, Chris, Michael… Oh, and let’s not forget your recent one, my lovely brother, Paul… I told you, everyone knows about you two, or almost everyone… Aw, poor Candice! Anyway, you can drop the act now.

KAT: And, I told you, who I choose or don’t choose to sleep with, is none of your business, or hers. So, butt out.

IAN: You know, you are quite cute when you get mad (smirks).

KAT: I actually look cuter when I’m kicking someone’s ass; want to see?

IAN: (Wiggles is eyebrows) Ooh, you are on fire today!

Keep it up, maybe you will finally nail at least one scene. (The film director walks in).

MATT: You two are up. And please, stop with the bickering, it’s getting very annoying. Be professional for Christ’s sake! Come on, chop, chop! You are on in five (leaves).

KAT: How dare he speak to me that way! Does he know who I am?!

IAN: Apparently, he doesn’t care; ouch! (Hands her the coffee cup) Here, have some, looks like you are going to need it.

KAT: Shut up… (grabs the cup reluctantly, and takes a sip. Another actress comes barging in, venting).

CANDICE: I swear if I have to do another scene with that incompetent fool, I’m quitting!

KAT: What did Chris do this time?

CANDICE: He can’t tell his left foot from his right one. How on earth did he get the part!

IAN: (Looking at Kat, teasing) Gees, I wonder how…

KAT: (Rolls her eyes, turns to Candice) Come on, he’s not that bad.

CANDICE: Please, you only say that because you slept with him. Not that I’m judging, he’s very hot, but he definitely can’t dance!

KAT: Well, he makes up for it in other areas (smirks)…

CANDICE: (Grins) Naughty, naughty… Anyway, where is Paul?!

IAN: Missing someone? Don’t worry, Blondie, he should be here soon, he’s just running late. Think you can handle a few minutes without him?

CANDICE: God, I hate you…

KAT: That makes two of us.

IAN: (Looking at Kat) You know there’s a fine line between love and hate (smirks).

KAT: In your dreams.

IAN: Every night, at least twice.

KAT: You are disgusting.

IAN: I know (winks. The Assistant Director walks in).

STEVEN: Miss. Graham, Mr. Somerhalder, we are ready for you.

KAT: Let’s go.

Cut to – LAPD Headquarters. The Chief of Police is in his office, smoking a cigarette, looking at a photo of a victim who was found brutally murdered the night before. The victim, an aspiring actress who had just landed her first role, a minor part in a high-profile production.

This town… A concrete monument of decay. From the outside it might seem glamourous, with its movie stars and divas, but it’s nothing more than a sewer filled with rats. Nights reek of booze, gun powder, and flesh blood, masked with a cheap imitation of expensive perfume.

Days are no better. The only difference between the two is that during the day, it’s harder for the predators to hide, or so they think. In reality, the true gangsters hide at plain sight. They mock us, thinking they are always one step ahead, always above the law.

But not this time… not this time… (Caresses the victim’s photo, a tear scrolling down his cheek) My sweet Nina… who could have possibly done this to you? And why?

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(The song “The Two Of Us” by Mark Isham, plays in the background, as the Detective has flashbacks of the woman and the horrendous murder scene; tears keep rolling down his cheeks).

Cut to – the film set. Kat and Ian are shooting one of their scenes.

IAN: Don’t go with him… you belong here, with me.

KAT: Please, don’t say those words. You know I want nothing more, but I can’t stay… He is my husband.

IAN: And I am the man you love.

KAT: Always and forever; no matter how far.

IAN: (Kisses her passionately. As she begins to walk away and the rain begins to pour, he runs after her, turns her around) I’m sorry, but I won’t let you go (kisses her again, the song Godot - The Fragrance of Dark Coffee + Rainymood, starts to play.

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The raindrops continue to fall as they hold each other, probably for the last time…)

MATT: And, cut! Beautiful! Now that’s what I call cinema! We are making history people!

KAT: (Ian is still holding on to her). Didn’t you hear cut?!

IAN: No, must have bad hearing… (he smiles; she tries to resist, yet can’t help but smile herself).

MATT: Okay, everyone, let’s take 30 while we prep for the next scene.

KAT: (To Ian) Did you hear that? (Pushes him away) Now, shoo, skedaddle! (She walks away, he follows behind, teasing her).

STEVEN: Mr. Davis, there is a Detective here to see you.

MATT: What? Why?

STEVEN: I think it has something to do with that actress that didn’t show up on set today.

MATT: Which actress, Steven, there are plenty of them around here.

STEVEN: Nina.

MEET: Nina, who? Doesn’t ring a bell.

STEVE: She’s the actress that is playing Miss. Graham’s handmaiden.

MATT: Oh, yes, I think I remember. What about her?

STEVEN: I don’t know. Why don’t you talk to the Detective.

MATT: Fine. Send him my way.

ZACH: (Shows him his badge) Detective Zach Roerig, LAPD, can I ask you some questions?

MATT: Sure, just don’t take too long, we need to keep shooting while we still have the proper lighting.

ZACH: (Takes a picture of Nina out of his pocket and shows it to him) Do you know this woman?

MATT: Barely, she is just an extra with a very small part, we don’t interact. I only work with the stars, so my assistant might be able to give you more insight on her.

ZACH: I’ll talk to him, that’s for sure. But you are the one in charge of this production, correct?

MATT: I am the Director, so yes.

ZACH: Maybe you should pay more attention to your “not so important” cast members as well. Miss. Dobrev was found brutally murdered last night; just one block from here.

MATT: Oh, lord, that is terrible. What happened?

ZACH: Was I not clear? She was murdered, decapitated to be exact. And, we suspect the one responsible for this heinous crime, is part of this little film of yours.

MATT: That’s absurd! No one here would ever do such a thing!

ZACH: You’d be surprised what people are capable of, especially in a town like this. It ain’t all lights and glamour. This is an official investigation, so we are shutting this production down until we get some answers.

MATT: You can’t do that! We are on a schedule.

ZACH: Well, it looks like you’re going to have to make some changes. I need you to call in everyone in the cast and crew, and I mean everyone. No one leaves, until we clear them.

MATT: Do you have any idea who you’re talking to? I don’t take orders from anyone.

ZACH: You Hollywood types and your sense of entitlement. You are in for a reality check, no one is above the law. Here is a warrant to search the premises and question every single one of you. So, make yourself comfortable, we might be here for a while. I’ll need your office for questioning, while my squad processes the area. I take it you don’t mind. And, to prove I’m not all that bad, I’ll start with you. Lead the way.

Cut to – the Director’s office.

SUSPECT # 1 – THE DIRECTOR

ZACH: For the record, state your full name.

MATT: Matthew W. Davis.

ZACH: How did you know the victim?

MATT: I told you, I didn’t. Apart from directing the few scenes she has been in, I have never talked to or interacted with her at all.

ZACH: What were your whereabouts last night, from 11pm to 2am?

MATT: I was here, filming. Went home around 3am.

ZACH: (Shows him a note that reads: You were great last night. Keep it up, and you might become a real movie star someday…). Do you know what this is?

MATT: (Looking nervous) Where did you find that?

ZACH: I’m the one that will be asking the questions. Is this your handwriting?

MATT: It is.

ZACH: Can you explain how, and why, this was found in the victim’s purse the night she was murdered?

MATT: I have no idea. That note wasn’t for her.

ZACH: Oh, really? Who was it for, then? And why do you reckon Miss. Dobrev had it with her?

MATT: I can’t tell you who it was for. And, I have absolutely no idea why that woman would have that note.

ZACH: Oh, come on, try harder.

MATT: This is ridiculous, I want my lawyer.

ZACH: You are in your right to request one, but that would only make you more suspicious. So, I would advise otherwise.

MATT: What do you want from me? I already told you everything I know.

ZACH: Who was the note for?

MATT: Okay, okay… it was for Candice.

ZACH: Doesn’t make much sense though, she’s already a movie star…

MATT: She is, but not a diva, like Miss. Graham. That’s what every woman in Hollywood wants. And I am the only one that can give that to them.

ZACH: That’s a lot of power to be in one man’s hands.

MATT: I worked hard for it, trust me.

ZACH: Sure you did… Okay, I’m gonna let you go for now, while we verify your alibi; but trust me, we will talk again.

MATT: Whatever. Can I leave?

ZACH: Yes, and send your assistant in.

SUSPECT # 2 – THE ASSISTANT DIRECTOR

ZACH: For the record, state your full name.

STEVEN: Steven R. McQueen.

ZACH: How do you know Miss. Dobrev?

STEVEN: She is one of the actresses in the film.

ZACH: More like, was…

STEVEN: What?

ZACH: She was murdered last night, about a block from here. Know anything about that?

STEVEN: No, no, of course not. Oh, god, she’s dead?! This can’t be true… How, why?

ZACH: Well, that’s what I want to find out, pal. Think you can help me figure it out?

STEVEN: Whatever I can do to help, you can count on it. Miss. Dobrev was a lovely gal.

ZACH: Were you two close?

STEVEN: Not really. I met her when we started filming. We talked from time to time, but that was about it.

ZACH: Just talk, ha?

STEVEN: Yes, Detective, I swear.

ZACH: I believe you. Look, you seem like a decent guy. I’m sure, if anyone, you are the one that knows what really happens around this set. Help me out? Miss. Dobrev deserves some justice, don’t you think?

STEVEN: Of course. I will tell you everything I know.

ZACH: Good. Why don’t we start with Mr. Davis’s real relationship with the victim…

Cut to – Kat’s dressing room. Kat, Ian, Candice, Paul, and Chris are talking about the situation.

CANDICE: With all due respect, but who is this Nina person?

KAT: She’s the actress playing my handmaiden.

CANDICE: Oh, her? Well, you can’t really refer to her as an actress, I mean...

CHRIS: She’s a nobody, so who cares.

PAUL: Judging from the Police take-over, something big is going on.

CANDICE: Why do you care?

PAUL: I’m just saying, it doesn’t look good.

IAN: Well, I agree with Mr. slippery shoes and Cinderella, who cares! We should be shooting, don’t want to lose the good lighting.

KAT: Of course you wouldn’t dare to care about anyone but yourself….

IAN: Really, Kitty Kat? This coming from little Miss me, myself, and I. We all know who you are.

KAT: No you don’t, so stop pretending you do.

PAUL: (Sarcastically) Ouch, bro.

CHRIS: (To Kat and Ian, sounding quite bitter) Can you two stop bickering, for like a second! Gees, just get married already! So freaking obvious…

KAT: Please, he wishes!

IAN: I might like a little pain here and there, but I’m no masochist… unless you ask nicely, of course (winks; the Director walks in). Matt, can you please tell us what the hell is going on!

MATT: We’ve been shut down, until further notice. Oh, and no one can leave either, so make yourselves comfortable.

IAN: What! Why?!

MATT: Well, that wannabe actress playing Kat’s handmaiden was murdered last night. Ruined our entire schedule! The Police think one of us did it… ridiculous!

KAT: Wait, what!? She was murdered? No, no… that can’t be… Oh my god!

CHRIS: And I’ll say it again, why do we care? She is a nobody! Or was, whatever!

KAT: Don’t say that! You have no idea who she was…

CHRIS: Neither do you, Kitty Kat.

IAN: (Pushes Chris away from her) First, no one calls her that, but me. Second, back off…

CHRIS: (Sarcastic smirk) Oh, please. Don’t you get it? She will never love you. Once she gets what she wants from you, she’ll throw you out like a piece of trash. So stop trying so hard.

IAN: (Grabs him by the neck) Listen, psycho boy…

PAUL: Stop, both of you. Is it too much to ask for you to act like adults, for once? We really don’t need your little pissing contest drama right now.

KAT: Nor any of this… Everyone get out, I need some space.

IAN: (Looking concerned) Kat...

KAT: I said, get out! All of you! (They leave).

Cut to – the Director’s office.

ZACH: Thank you for your cooperation, this information is critical to our investigation.

STEVEN: (Looking scared) Please, Detective, promise me you won’t tell them you heard those things from me, I would be completely ruined.

ZACH: Don’t worry, your secrets are safe with me, trust me. Now, be a sport and send Miss. Accola my way, will you?

STEVEN: Will do, Detective.

ZACH: Thank you, we will talk again soon.

SUSPECT # 3 – THE ACTRESS

ZACH: For the record, state your full name.

CANDICE: (Flirtatious) Detective, you don’t believe I had anything to do with this, do you? I mean, look at me… do you really think I would be capable of such a thing?

ZACH: Perhaps you didn’t hear me. I said, state your full name.

CANDICE: Fine… Candice Rene Accola. But I swear, Detective, I never even crossed a word with that woman.

ZACH: Funny, that’s not what I’ve heard…

CANDICE: From who? Whoever said that is obviously lying! I have a reputation to protect, I don’t mingle with the extras.

ZACH: Oh, I’m sure you don’t, but I wonder if you get jealous of them?

CANDICE: (Laughs) That’s absurd! Why on earth would I be jealous of her!? She’s a nobody.

ZACH: Maybe she had something you wanted…

CANDICE: What could she possibly have had that I don’t? If anything, she was the one jealous of me.

ZACH: I hear you are quite smitten with an ex of hers.

CANDICE: An ex? What are you talking about?

ZACH: Just cut the bullshit Miss. Accola. I know for a fact that Mr. Wesley and Miss. Dobrev where previously engaged, that is until you came into the picture…

CANDICE: (Nervously) Please, Detective, let me explain…

ZACH: Please, do.

CANDICE: It’s not what you think. I mean, yes, I knew they had a thing in the past, but that was a long time ago. They went to the same Highschool, in this godforsaken town in the middle of nowhere, or something along those lines. But, I swear, I never even spoke to her, nor did he, after that. No disrespect for the deceased, but she was weird, she didn’t belong in the same circle as us. There are levels, and she is, well, was, way below ours. If you are looking for a real suspect, I suggest you talk to Mr. Wood, I know there was something going on between those two.

ZACH: Really, why would you say that?

CANDICE: They are both whack jobs. They would get together after shooting; hang out at this weirdo trash bar down the block called “The Grill”, where all the other city looneys hang out. Trust me, they were into some really creepy stuff.

ZACH: What kind of creepy stuff?

CANDICE: Some obscure vampire nonsense. I’m telling you, totally cuckoo.

ZACH: Vampires?

CANDICE: Yes, I swear! If you ask me, I wouldn’t be surprised if Chris turned out to be one… I mean, if they were real, of course. Only a crazy person would believe those things.

ZACH: I agree. So, you are saying Miss. Dobrev had a dark side?

CANDICE: Oh, for sure! No one ever bought her little “Mary Sue” act.

ZACH: Well, that’s quite specific information for someone who claims not to know anything about her.

CANDICE: I’m just telling you what I’ve heard from others, specifically, from Mr. Wood.

ZACH: Okay, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt on that, for the moment. Now, (hands her the same note he handed the Director) can you explain what this is about?

CANDICE: (Looking genuinely clueless) I have never seen that before, I promise.

ZACH: Fair enough. Moving on, what where your whereabouts last night, from 11pm to 2am?

CANDICE: I was here shooting, until about 3am, I think. I went straight home after that.

ZACH: 3 am? Doesn’t seem like a safe hour for a lady to be driving home alone…

CANDICE: Oh, of course not. I had my driver take me home.

ZACH: What’s your driver’s name?

CANDICE: Mr. Trevino, you can ask him if you don’t believe me. He’s right outside my dressing room.

ZACH: No need, just yet. You are free to go, for now. Let Mr. Wood know I’m expecting him next.

CANDICE: Sure thing. (As she is walking out) Detective, one more thing… I probably shouldn’t say, since she is my best friend, but I feel obligated to mention this, it’s in my duty to do so. You should know Miss. Graham and Miss. Dobrev used to be very close friends, best friends actually. She doesn’t know I know that, but I do. In fact, Kat is the reason Nina got this job in the first place; and the reason why Nina moved from that Mystic place to LA. Just thought you should know… Hope it’s useful information (flirtatious smirk).

ZACH: (Flirting back) Very useful, Miss. Accola; thank you for sharing.

Cut to – Kat’s dressing room. She is looking at herself in the mirror; she seems somewhat sad, but a lot more worried. Ian knocks.

IAN: Kat, please, let me in… I’m sorry… (Kat opens the door, he walks inside, she looks around to make sure there is no one else there; shuts the door after him).

KAT: What do you want? I thought I made myself clear when I said I wanted to be left alone.

IAN: I needed to make sure you were okay (looks around the room) … I didn’t know you knew her outside of the film, I’m sorry if I was insensitive.

KAT: (Goes to her mini bar, serves and hands him a glass of bourbon) It’s just you and me, look for yourself. You can stop pretending now.

IAN: (Relieved) Okay, good… I don’t know how much longer I would be able to keep up with the act.

KAT: As long as it takes; we can’t risk them finding out.

IAN: I know, Kitty Kat, but I’m freaking out here! This place is infested with cops. What the hell are we going to do...?!

KAT: Calm down, we will think about that later… (kisses him passionately, and throws him on to her dressing room bed…)

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*Not my art, loads of credit to the creator, this ilustration is awsome!

TVD 9x15 (part 2) coming soon! Hope you stop by, read, and enjoy! =)

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abbottikeler · 3 years

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The Ikelers: A Family Chronicle, 1753-2018 (Part III)

The Ikelers in the Nineteenth Century There are many descendants of Wilhelm who, to this day, live within a few miles of Jerseytown and his original Greenwood farm. They are, most of them, eight or nine generations removed either from his eldest son, Andrew, or his only daughter, Elizabeth. (Barnabus, his second son, did not marry, and William, his third born, though he married in New Jersey and lived out his life in Columbia County, could not convince most of his descendants to stay. Many migrated west to Ohio and beyond.) Especially if you can trace your ancestry back to Andrew Ikeler, you will easily find third, fourth and fifth cousins in Bloomsburg and neighboring townships. Evidence of their long presence and influence is everywhere in Columbia County—in two Ikeler cemeteries, a church, a street, and even a village named Ikelertown. In the case of Wilhelm’s friend Daniel, and his son-in-law William, Elizabeth’s legacy lives on in the ubiquity of the Welliver name in local phone directories, in the Jerseytown cemetery established by Daniel, and in numerous published histories of Daniel’s involvement with the ill-fated Whitmayers. There is, in fact, near Bloomsburg a country crossroads and a hamlet surrounding it named “Welliverville.” Those two families, after all, were among the first pioneer farmers to clear and work the land after the 1780 treaty with the local native-Americans. Ikelers and Wellivers have been there ever since. In this segment of the narrative, I’ll be looking at three generations of Ikelers who lived all or most of their lives in nineteenth-century Columbia County, PA. They are, in order, Andrew Ikeler (1772-1850) and his wife Christiana, nee Johnson (1774-1865); Andrew’s son Isaac (1804-1883) and his wife Mary, nee Taylor (1810-1872); and Isaac’s son Elijah (1838-1898) and his wife Helena, nee Armstrong (1840-1913). For information about the siblings of Isaac or Elijah (there were in fact a dozen), the best local sources are the County Courthouse and the Columbia County Historical and Genealogical Society in Bloomsburg. Under discussion here are only the children from whom my immediate family and I are descended. Andrew reached his majority in New Jersey under the sole care of his mother. In 1792, he married the daughter of an English settler—the first with the new surname Ikeler to do so. Christiana Johnson’s father, Isaac, was most likely sympathetic to the British cause, since he allowed the union of his daughter to the son of a notorious loyalist. He also later moved to the Pennsylvania neighborhood where Wilhelm had settled. It appears that Christiana and Andrew may have been the last of their generation of Ikelers to leave New Jersey for Columbia County. The 1888 Beers Book makes reference to Andrew’s journey there in 1804. Presumably, he was waiting for confirmation from his father that the land they needed for their growing family had been purchased. That news came in 1804, and Andrew appears on the tax records of 1805 as the owner of a log cabin and a saw mill and 150 acres of land in Greenwood Township. Unlike most of the farmers around him, Andrew seems to have cut quite a public figure. Near the end of the War of 1812, he led a company of militia to the defense of the nation’s capital. While underway, they learned the threat had passed, so he and his men returned to Columbia County without firing a shot. Again, in 1835, he made news when elected Magistrate at the ripe age of 62. At his death in 1850 he had outlived his brothers and his sister by nearly a decade. We know precious little about Christiana’s life, either in New Jersey or Pennsylvania, but she and Andrew lived long enough to see many of their grandchildren grown, long enough to celebrate their 57th wedding anniversary, and, in her case, long enough to see the end of the Civil War. Born before the nation itself, she died at 91 in 1865. One can only image what a diary of her times she might have written! She and Andrew are buried in the far right corner of what is known as the “churchless” Ikeler cemetery, at the top of a hill overlooking both their and Wilhelm’s original homesteads, and planted in corn to the very borders of the graveyard. The site functioned up until 1840 as the informal burial place for Ikelers and their near neighbors. In that year, Andrew’s eldest son, William, set money aside to preserve it in perpetuity and later erected the limestone tombstone that marks his parents’ last resting place. In the row immediately behind them are several broken slabs of slant, the inscriptions on them (if any) long since effaced. It is very likely that they mark the burial place of Wilhelm and his wife, presumably carried there (in 1808 and 1815 respectively) from their nearby log house in a homemade pine box, or perhaps simple in winding sheet. Ironically, far less is known of Andrew’s son Isaac, my great-great grandfather, and his wife Mary Taylor. Though he followed his father’s example and married a woman of English stock, he kept close to the land Andrew left him, and rarely participated in the life of the wider community. Yet, since he lived into the 1880s, I suspect at least one photograph of him must have been taken, and may somewhere still exist. Certainly there are available photos of other children of Andrew. Much research remains to be done on his wife as well. Happily, some has recently come to light through the efforts of my third cousin, Chris Sanders. Mary Taylor was sold by her father into indentured service at age twelve, along with her brother. The promise of an apprenticeship was often written into the contract—in Mary’s case, the promise was, in the course of her seven years of servitude, that she would be taught “the mysteries of housewiffery.” Why her father, a widower, was driven to take such an extreme measure remains a mystery. Perhaps he simply thought he couldn’t manage their upbringing on his own. It was, as one wise genealogist reminded me, a different time. Mary’s servitude did, at least, have a foreseeable end. She married Isaac Ikeler immediately upon regaining her freedom at 19, in 1829. Her son Elijah, perhaps as a tribute to the suffering she had endured in her adolescence, christened his second son with the middle name “Taylor” just two years before his mother’s death. Her memory was apparently cherished by later descendants as well---they passed it down to this very day as the middle name of at least four other Ikeler males. Mary, fortunately, was something of a genealogist herself, and faithfully kept what she knew of the Ikeler family tree on the flyleaf of her bible. For most of us, that partial record represented the starting point for our research into the early generations. Mary Taylor Ikeler predeceased her husband by eleven years. Isaac passed away in 1883. All but one of their eight children survived into adulthood. Both parents are buried under well-preserved limestone monuments in what became the next, newer Ikeler cemetery, atop Ikeler Hill and directly across the road from the Ikeler Church. Their resting place sits right above the border between Mt. Pleasant and Greenwood Townships, looking down on the very hills and fields they plowed. Elijah Redmond Ikeler, their fourth child and second son, is perhaps the most widely remembered and controversial of all the Ikelers in this history. Even his birth year is debatable, variously recorded as any of four years between 1837 and 1840. Most sources, including his large granite tombstone in Bloomsburg’s Rosemount Cemetery, declare it to be 1838, however. From his early days he appears to have been disinclined to take up farming. At 18 he was apprenticed to a mill owner, and shortly thereafter had acquired a share in the business. At the outset of the Civil War, he seems to have been equally disinclined to take up arms in defense of the Union. Whether he paid the standard $300 to send someone else in his place, or simply wasn’t called up because the local quota of soldiers had already been filled, he clearly had no interest in risking his young life for a cause he didn’t believe in. In a Bloomsburg newspaper article from 1864, in which a local volunteer at the front complains about the lack of support and enthusiasm from the folks back home, Elijah is quoted (among others) arguing in favor of a compromise with the Confederacy that would allow the Southern States to keep their slaves and end the bloodshed sooner. By that time he had already been married for a year—to one Helena Armstrong, two years his junior and a resident of Bloomsburg. Her father owned a prosperous stonemasonry business, producing monuments in limestone and granite for local cemeteries and public places, as well as the marble window frames and sills for the more prepossessing homes along Main and Market Streets. Helena also brought an impressive pedigree to the union with Elijah: among her father’s ancestors were the socially prominent Rittenhouses of Philadelphia, and the Hiesters, one of whom had been an officer under Washington in the Revolutionary War. She was thus a member of the D.A.R., with the bona fides to prove it. On her mother’s side she was descended from the Vanderslices, a Dutch family and one of the wealthiest in Columbia County. How did Elijah, the 25-year-old son of a Greenwood farmer, manage to marry into an established upper middle class family such as the Armstrongs? Probably a combination of ambition, political savvy, and good looks. He looks out from photographs and portraits taken of him then and later with a self-assurance and a symmetry of aspect that commands admiration. By 1865, he and Helena had taken up residence in Bloomsburg, the county seat, at the time a settlement of some 3,000 souls on the banks of the Susquehanna. Elijah would remain a townsman the rest of his life. He struck up a friendship with a much older Bloomsburg lawyer, John Freeze, who had lost his own sons to childhood illnesses several years before. Freeze took him under his wing, taught him the law, and, from 1867, admitted him into his own practice as a fellow attorney. Thereafter, Elijah rose quickly to political prominence, becoming Bloomsburg town treasurer in 1870 and district attorney a short time later. His domestic fortunes, despite an initial setback, were also advancing. In 1867, Helena had lost a pair of twins, but she gave birth to one healthy son, Frank Armstrong Ikeler, the next year, and another robust boy, Fred Taylor Ikeler, in 1870. Why they had no more children after that, though both were in their early thirties, I can only speculate. Certainly Elijah grew increasingly involved with public affairs and the business of making money. He participated in the early prosecution of the Molly Maguires (though the miners were ultimately tried, convicted and hanged by others), and he bought numbers of residential properties within Bloomsburg proper (whether for rental income or resale I haven’t been able to ascertain). By the 1880s he thought himself well enough known and respected to run for elected office. The position he sought was that of Presiding (or President) Judge: a five-year term of office with jurisdiction over both Columbia and two adjoining counties. He was twice elected: in 1888 and again in 1893. He ran again in 1898 at the age of 60, but fell ill in the midst of the campaign and died within a week in August, 1898. At the time of his death he was living on Market Street in a mansion-sized home of his own design, known for years after as “the Judge’s house.” The building has since been extensively renovated and functions today not as a place of residence, but as a funeral home. In the last two decades of his life, there was also much going on at home to keep him happy with only two children. Given his risen position in society, Elijah was clearly ambitious for his sons. They both attended and graduated from Lafayette College—the first Ikelers to earn baccalaureate degrees—and, by the mid-90s, both boys had begun to practice law, just as their father had done. Aside from vague rumors that Elijah was a bit too fond of the bottle, and his arguable lack of patriotism during the Civil War (neither one of which sins was considered much of a problem in that part of Pennsylvania), everything about his life and his family seemed above reproach. Particularly in 1888, when he ran for high office, it was essential to his success: he needed to present an unblemished record to the voters of three counties. One small problem arose the year before that election. A chronicle of Columbia County was being prepared, a chronicle that would rely for much of its information on interviews with prominent members of long-established families in the region—people who could recount their own and their ancestors’ history. The chronicle (known then and since as “The Beers Book”) was due to be published in 1888, shortly before Elijah planned to open his election campaign. And, given his social prominence, there was certainly no Ikeler more likely to be approached for genealogical information than Elijah. All to the good, it would seem: a chance to boast, modestly of course, of his and his forefathers’ accomplishments, and perhaps, amongst interested readers, to gain a few votes. The Ikeler section of the Beers Book that appeared in 1888 does indeed suggest the interviewee was Elijah—more than half of the entry praises the deeds of the would-be Presiding Judge, and has little to say of his siblings or his parents. �� But the passage makes some quite curious claims about earlier generations. Fact gets oddly mixed up with fiction—the first Ikeler [it reads] was “Joseph Eggler...of an honored old family of German extraction,” not a tenant farmer named Hieronymus Eichler; he landed in New Jersey, not Philadelphia, arriving in 1760, not 1753; most curious of all, “at the outbreak of the Revolution he promptly enlisted with the Colonists, and throughout that historic conflict unselfishly rendered service to his country.” This founding father of the American Ikelers is also said to be Elijah’s great-grandfather, when in fact Hieronymus is his great-great-grandfather. Elijah skips a generation in order to make Andrew, not Wilhelm, the son of this fictional hero. It is Andrew, so the account runs, who brought the Ikelers from New Jersey to Greenwood Township in 1804. What Elijah’s version does, of course, is to wipe out the first seven years of the family’s indentured servitude, credit Hieronymus/Joseph with an honorable, unselfish war record on the side of the Colonists, and eliminate Wilhelm and the “shame” of his fugitive years altogether. There simply is no Wilhelm in Elijah’s account of his ancestry. It’s a neat blending of fact and fiction, calculated to sit well with his neighbors and the electorate. But I suspect Elijah’s dissembling had a second, and perhaps more powerful motivation behind it. He was, we remember, married to a member of the D.A.R., a descendant of a genuine hero on the side of the Revolution. When the chronicler came calling, Elijah could enhance respect for his heritage in the eyes of Helena by “recalling” an equivalent hero in the Ikeler family past. But it was even more important for both husband and wife that he expunge any trace of Wilhelm and the family’s loyalist background. And God forbid, Helena should find out one of her husband’s ancestors was a redcoat under arms during the conflict! Elijah’s efforts to bowdlerize or mythologize his family’s past remained unchallenged for another 27 years, until both he and Helena were no longer among the living. At last, in 1915, and just two years before his own death, I suspect it was I.B. Ikeler who offered a very different story to the county historian who came by collecting information for a second edition of the chronicle: “In another account it is stated that William Ikeler [so the 1915 printed version reads] was the name of the founder of the Columbia county branch of the Ikelers. William Ikeler also came from New Jersey and settled on a farm…approximately one hundred twenty-five years ago [i.e., circa 1790]. His wife’s name was Barnhart, and their issue were four children: Andrew, William, Elizabeth and Barnabus.” Except for getting Elizabeth Bengert’s maiden name wrong, his version squares with the facts as we now know them. I.B. Ikeler was in the best position to set things straight, after all, since it was he who held that “ancient” deed of sale, the proof that William Ikeler had paid 450 hundred pieces of gold or silver for an additional 350 acres of land in 1804.

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betterdaysareatoenailaway · 3 years

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Sleep Tight For Me...I’m Gone

Lately I’ve been writing these Better Days Are A Toenail Away™️ posts in Microsoft Word, selecting all and changing the font to Garamond, which is so readable and beautiful, and posting the Word docs, paragraphs by paragraph, inside these Tumblr drafts. It makes things look nice, to my old fashioned sensibilities, but fixing errors is a time-consuming and needlessly convoluted four-step process.

First, I have to copy, then delete the paragraph containing the error. Then I open the doc. and paste the error-ridden paragraph back into Word. After I find and fix the error, I need to save it and copy and paste it back into the post. It's time-consuming because I’m not just copying a paragraph. As you can see from more recent post, what I copied looked more like a photograph of the paragraph, not the words themselves written in Tumblr’s default font Arial. For an example of this, see below. I like the way it looks like old newspaper clippings. I posted an article about how my fent dealer John Smith kept getting robbed, and had resorted to putting a machete in front of his front door as a way of preventing this, a lever of sorts, which is plainly visible in the video I posted,

So today I’ve given up on trying to make my posts look like books or zines, and have given into the Tumblr font, which is about as pretty as a horse with his snout shot off.

There are two much longer posts I’m working on right now, one about Nirvana and one about Soundgarden, respectively, and how both bands were very unlike their public perception, but those posts are taking a lot of work so I’m putting them on the backburner because today is some dumbass corporation’s day where it tries to synthesize mental health and profit and the end result is as baldly capitalist and clumsy as you would expect.

I’m not gonna name the company, or repeat their stupid fucking slogan. As far as I can tell (which isn't very far), talking about my trauma has never made me feel better. And in fact it has sometimes made me feel worse, because in telling you what hurts and scares me, I’ve given a part of myself away that I can’t get back. When you’re like me, and you’ve lost everything multiple times, sometimes the only form of power you have is how you choose, or do not choose, to tell your story. And in a world where everybody wants to tell “their truth,” silence is power.

You don’t get to know me, sorry. I’m not gonna hand you my life, both my bad and good experiences, and conclude: “Welp, that’s why I’m so fucked up. Case closed.”

Honestly, I used to be a little confused, or miffed that my former partner (who is an amazing person btw, in every respect) almost never spoke about some of the traumatic things she’d experienced in her past. I took it as a sign that she either didn’t trust me, or she didn’t think I would be a sympathetic listener, or the mere fact of my gender precluded her from sharing because I couldn’t truly understand what it was she had gone through. It’s not like I ever asked her to talk about it, but I did say, once or twice, “hey if you ever wanna talk about that stuff, I’m around.” She never took me up on it, and I let it go.

But as I watched her, and saw her life unfold, over the years we spent together, I began to realize I wasn’t exactly in any position to be telling her how to live her life or how to be mentally healthy. After all, she has found success in a number of avenues, both creative and occupational, and I’ve found neither. I'm not saying the fact that she didn't talk much about her trauma is the reason for her success. I'm saying that she's forged a better path through life than I have, and maybe I should take a cue from that.

She never told me what to do, per se. It was more like living by example. But because I’m pretty dense, and a severe addict, our time together actually sorta reminds me now of that Cornell lyric from his first record: She’s going to change the world. But she can’t change me.

I have certainly found that talking about how shitty my life is only makes me feel more shitty, not free, or unburdened, or better. If you wanna talk about your problems, and you find it helpful, more power to you. Just don’t wait for a corporation to tell you it’s okay to not be okay.

When Chris Cornell died I was so shocked. Of all the grunge icons he seemed the most stable, and he'd survived the rise and fall of two major label rock bands. If anyone had survived the media machine that chewed up and spat out Staley, Cobain, and to a lesser extent Andrew Wood and Shannon Hoon, it was Cornell. He would be the last guy to support hashtag activism like #StarbucksMyLifeSucks. Chris Cornell actually loved to fuck with the best laid plans of corporate rats. Molson once had a few promotional concerts in Tuktoyaktuk, Northwest Territories, called Molson Canadian Rocks Arctic, with both Hole and Soundgarden playing to a crowd of flown-in grunge fans and bemused locals. But the whole anti-corporate thing grunge was known for actually came through when Courtney Love told the crowd she “use[d] Molson Canadian to douche.” Lol. Here’s a photo of Love arriving in Tuktoyatuk.

Cornell told the same people “so we’re here because of some beer company? Labatt’s?” Both artists’ jabs are funny. Cornell’s was a bit more subtle, but that’s what Cornell was like.

So today’s post is about Chris Cornell’s suicide, more specifically the media’s reaction to it. For whatever reason, when Cornell died, every single news outlet, from CNN to Fox to CBC, posted “Black Hole Sun,” as if it’s the only song he ever fucking wrote, or – and this is far worse – the only song he wrote that’s worth hearing. The problem with this is more than twofold or threefold. It's fucking hydraheaded.

Not only is “Black Hole Sun” a mediocre piece of music, it’s a complete misrepresentation of Soundgarden’s sound.

Now, I’m a huge fan of the A.V. Club series HateSong, in which public figures gleefully talk shit about the one song they hate more than any other song in the world. The Max Bemis (Say Anything) one where he talks about Nirvana’s “Rape Me” as a terrible rewrite of “Smells Like Teen Spirit” is terrific, but comedian Anthony Jeselnik’s HateSong takes “Black Hole Sun” apart, and I love it. I think the best line is: I think the more I hear it, the worse it gets. AVC: After the song became a huge hit, Chris Cornell said that he’d written it in about 15 minutes. AJ: I totally believe that. I don’t believe that Soundgarden likes that song. Like, I remember Eminem once said that he knew his song “My Name Is” was going to be a huge hit because the first time he heard it he was annoyed. It’s something about an annoying song that just grabs onto people. But I don’t think that anyone likes “Black Hole Sun.” I’ve never heard of anyone who likes it. I don’t understand why it gets played so much. It’s become a summer jam, and it’s not a summer song at all. Jeselnik is right that Soundgarden didn’t think much of the song. Guitarist Kim Thayil wasn’t kidding when he disparagingly called it the “Dream On” of their live show. And Cornell himself, known for a meticulous approach to his songwriting, had admitted that with “Black Hole Sun”was “probably the closest to me just playing with words for words’ sake, of anything I’ve written. I guess it worked for a lot of people who heard it, but I have no idea how you'd begin to take that one literally.” I mean it’s obvious from the opening lines that Cornell is just playing with words and how they sound: in my eyes/indisposed/in disguises no one knows What songs would have been more appropriate for Cornell’s untimely death? Glad you asked! Cuz there’s like…fucking at least ten that would have been better. I’m not tryna be one of those “the deep album cuts are better maaaaaan,” but with Soundgarden, it happens to be true. With some bands, the single are their best work. With other bands, the singles are the hors d’oeuvres for the entrees. So what deep cuts would have celebrated Cornell’s death a bit better? Well, to begin with, Superunknown’s strange and stately closer “Like Suicide” would have worked, for obvious reasons.

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“Tighter and Tighter,” a song that is actually about the moment of death and what it might feel like, is one of my all-time fav Soundgarden songs. Not only is it a creepy and prescient prediction of what Cornell’s death by hanging himself may have felt like, it’s opening line is a good description of the personification of death: Shadow face/Blowing smoke and talking wind

Another sample lyric: “A sucking holy wind will take me from this bed tonight/and bloody wits another hits me and I have to say goodbye/sleep tight for me, I’m gone/and I hope it’s a sweet ride/here for me tonight/cuz I’m feel I’m going/feel I’m slowing down.”

The morning after Cornell’s death hit the news my buddy and bandmate James told me that en route to work his phone, which was playing music randomly through his car speakers, landed on “Tighter and Tighter” and he had to pull over because he was tearing up.

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“Fell On Black Days” is another song about depression and mortality. Cornell had the following to say about the song: “Fell on Black Days” was like this ongoing fear I’ve had for years ... It's a feeling that everyone gets. You're happy with your life, everything’s going well, things are exciting—when all of a sudden you realize you’re unhappy in the extreme, to the point of being really, really scared. There's no particular event you can pin the feeling down to, it's just that you realize one day that everything in your life is fucked!

Now, if that’s not a cogent and even-tempered explanation of suicidal thoughts, what is? Why else would Cornell have admitted to being “really really scared” by his depression unless he knew what that depression could ultimately leasd to? Here’s some lyrics to “Fell on Black Days.” Dig the high literary use of “whomsoever” and “whatsoever.” Whatsoever I’ve feared has come to life Whatsoever I fought off became my life Just when every day seemed to greet me with a smile sunspots have faded and now I’m doing time cuz I fell on black days

Whomsoever I’ve cured I’ve sickened now Whomsoever I’ve cradled...I put you down I’m a searchlight soul they say but I can’t see it in the night I’m only faking when I get it right I sure don’t mind a change but I fell on black days how would I know that this could be my fate?

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Eagle-eared listeners might think this version different from the album version. They are right. The rendition in the video was recorded live off the floor @ Bad Animals, the Seattle studio owned by Heart, where Soundgarden would record Down on the Upside.

“Boot Camp” is a scary meditation about loss of agency that for years was tied with Zeppelin’s “I'm Gonna Crawl” for Creepiest Song to Cap a Discography, until Soundgarden reunited and released King Animal.

“Taree” is about ghost light, influencing events after dying and features Cornell’s most exhausted, convincing “yeah” @ 2:57.

“Applebite” is a Matt Cameron-penned ponderous clunker about Adam’s original expulsion from Eden. Doomy and death-laden.

“Let Me Drown” is a song about letting someone die.

“The Day I Tried To Live” is frequently cited as Soundgarden’s finest achievement, its odd time signature somehow sounds straight, thanks to Matt Cameron’s brilliant time keeping.

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“4th of July” is a song about a post apocalyptic urban landscape, where the speaker isn’t sure whether he is seeing fireworks or bombs.

“Limo Wreck” is a cool death song and has an eerie 9-11 prediction. “Building the towers belongs to the sky/when the whole thing comes crashing down don’t ask me why.”

ANY of the above songs would have been better than that fucking asinine dirge-like major key fuckaround that has somehow not just become Soundgarden's signature song...but their ONLY song.

Does nobody remember Johnny Cash covering “Rusty Cage?”

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“Outshined?”

“Burden In My Hand?”

“Blow Up The Outside World?”

Did none of these other songs get stuck in the electric head? (The electric head is Rob Zombie’s term for the technologically advanced culture we have found ourselves enmeshed in, or imprisoned by. It was the subtitle for White Zombie’s 1995 hit album Astro-Creep 2000: Songs of Love, Destruction, and other Synthetic Delusions of the Electric Head.)

For my money (which ain’t much honey), the song that best fits both Cornell’s artistic integrity and the sad circumstances of his suicide is “Tighter and Tighter.” I once wrote a whole article on the way artists use “yeah” as a placeholder or as a way to convey emotion when words themselves aren’t adequate. Dig that tired, world-weary exhausted “yeah” at 5:35 of “Tighter & Tighter.”

Or the creepy line going into the first chorus: remember this...remember everything’s just black or burning sun. Not that I agree with such a bleak worldview. It’s a writer’s line. And Randy Bachman has said, “when you’re a writer, you’d step over your own mother.” That’s the Cornell I want to remember. Not that he would step over his own mother. By all accounts he was a committed family man. I mean, I want to remember the Cornell who created strange atmospheric sonic worlds, who explored the dark side that sadly, eventually won out. His otherworldly beautiful music is what I choose to remember about Chris Cornell, not his estate tastelessly exploiting “Black Hole Sun” by using a line from the song to title a posthumous Cornell album of covers No One Sings Like You Anymore. Sigh.

First Cornell’s widow said this was “Chris’s last album.” Okay. What about the Soundgarden songs he recorded vocals for before he died? Kim Thayil was pretty diplomatic about it when asked recently. Cornell did record vocal tracks for the follow up to King Animal.

Kim Thayil: “Given our love for Chris, I do not see us reconfiguring without him.”

But he makes it clear in this interview that Cornell’s widow Vicky has those tracks and won’t release them to the band. Maybe because she blames the band for Chris dying that night? She’s not wrong to believe that they would have known, and seen, what kind of shape Cornell was in, at least at the venue, maybe not later at the hotel.

Kim Thayil: “It’s entirely possible that a new Soundgarden album will be released. Certainly. All it would need is to take the audio files that are available. I tighten up the guitars. Ben does the bass. We get the producers we want to make it sound like a Soundgarden record.”

Interviewer: “Is there an obstacle stopping that?”

Kim Thayil: “There shouldn’t be. There really isn’t. Other than the fact that we don’t have those files.”

Interviewer: “They’re not under your auspices?”

Kim Thayil: “Right. It would be ridiculous if [the record wasn’t made]. But these are difficult things. Partnerships and...property.”

You’re just gonna keep those wav files? And why title his covers album Volume 1 if it’s his “last album?”

Oh right. $$$

No one does sing like Cornell, but is “Black Hole Sun” really the best thing he ever did? The best song he ever sang? Should an album of covers be the last thing he gives to the world?

The only honest answer is no.

Sleep tight Chris. You’re gone.

#betterdaysareatoenailaway #soundgarden #chris cornell #suicide

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ella-se-vuelve-loca · 4 years

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Chapter 12

Grand Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Previous Chapter

‘Hey! You’ve been pretty busy lately and I think it’s time we head out to Johann’s place today :) you down?’

Emilia texted me as I was still lying down in bed, not really planning on going out and just staying in bed… until now, that is. I haven’t seen my group of friends, besides Yoandri, in a little while. My time has been spent with someone and my thoughts have been.. elsewhere.

I’m just wanting to tell everyone and get this weight off of my chest, but at the same time, I can’t. If (Y/N) ever meets the boys, Richard won’t recognize her, right? He’s only seen her for a few seconds at that party we were at. It’s not like he’ll even remember what she looks like.

I know Chris is dying to meet her, having only heard the little stories I’ve told about her to him. He’s been patient, understanding that I wanna keep it private for a while, but it’s obvious that he’s excited and wants to know who she is.

‘Hell yeah I’m in! What time?’

We all were kind of lounged around Johann’s kitchen while we ate some Chinese food that we ordered. It felt good to see my friends again. We were laughing and talking about the things we’ve been up to lately while I thought about Emilia and (Y/N). Two similar, but totally different girls.

Something’s changed though. I don’t see myself gravitating towards Emilia as much anymore, not like I used to at least. I feel like I’ve been lost in my thoughts recently. I need to get back into the conversation.

“So, Joel, you’ve been pretty busy lately. I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever haha.” Emilia smiled. “What are you and the guys up to?”

“We’re just getting ready to release the new album and working on tour dates.” I took a sip from my drink. “We’ve all been pretty busy, so I’m happy that we’ve got some time off.”

“Last time we saw you was at a party with some of the boys from your band.” Johann spoke. “You left fairly early, bro. We didn’t get to talk as much.”

“Oh, yeah uh sorry about that. Something came up and I had to leave.”

“Was it about that girl you were talking to that night?” Emilia smirked and took a bite of her food as Yoandri looked my way with a knowing look on his face. “Wait, what girl?” Johann asked. “Um.. I don’t..” I could feel my face heating up. “Oh come on! She’s the real reason why you’ve been super busy, right?” I didn’t speak. I didn’t say it was true, but I didn’t deny it either. “Oh my God haha you ditched us for a girl?” Johann laughed.

“Hey, she’s not some girl.” I said. “I’m just stating the facts!” He smiled and leaned on his elbows that rested on the table. “What does she look like?”

“Guys, she’s so pretty and she’s actually real.” Yoandri laughed as Johann looked over at him. “You’ve seen her already?” He nodded as I bit my lip. “Let me see her. I can’t believe you never told me about her.” I took out my phone, going straight to photos and I scrolled until I found a recent photo we took together. He took my phone in his hands and observed the photo as Emilia stood behind him, looking as well. “She’s cute..” He scrolled a few more photos before handing me back my phone.

“Oh my God, Joel! She’s so pretty!” She smiled as I blushed slightly at the thought of (Y/N). “She is, isn’t she?” I glanced down at the photo of when we went to the carnival together and smiled at the memory. “We’ve been seeing each other for a little while now.”

“Well, hey! Let’s celebrate.” Johann lifted up his drink and spoke. “A toast to new relationships and finding love in the most unexpected places.” If I had been paying attention, I would’ve noticed that it almost sounded sarcastic.

At the end of the day, we helped him pick up the place and left on our merry way back to own our houses. I decided to stay behind and talk more with my friend while Yoandri and Emilia had left. It was nice getting to catch up with my friends, it’s definitely been a while. I was currently washing the dishes as Johann popped up behind me. “So… what’s really going on?” He asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh come on, Joel. I’m not stupid.” He placed a plate inside the sink and stood beside me. “You were in love with Emilia a few months back and ready to do almost anything for her… what happened?” I shrugged my shoulders and continued washing the plates and cups. “I met someone new and well.. here I am.”

“That quick?” He asked as I stayed silent. I can trust him… right? “It’s not a big deal.” I laughed it off as I finished rinsing the utensils and put them on the clean side of the sink. “Not a big deal? Joel, come on.. is this thing legit?” I washed my hands as I sighed, deciding to come clean to one person I trust. He’s been my friend for a while and I can tell him anything, right? He wouldn’t judge me and I can maybe start to feel some sort of relief by getting this off my chest.

“Can you keep a secret?”

He nodded and waited for me to spill the beans to him. “You can tell me anything, Joel. I’m your friend.” I have to say something. I’m tired of feeling guilty and holding this in. I have to tell one person, at least. “I’m gonna be honest here.. I… I only used (Y/N) to get Emilia jealous in the beginning. That was the only reason why I talked to her in the first place.”

“Ahh see? I knew you were still in love with her.” Johann smiled as I continued. “No, listen. Yes, it was bad intentions at the start and I was head over heels with Emilia, but dude… once I got to know her, I was hooked. She’s really amazing.” I smiled. “She’s so genuine and smart.. she makes me laugh and – ”

“Aanndd that was enough to get you over Emilia?”

“I’ll always love her, yes. She’s my friend but..” I bit my lip. “Whenever I’m with (Y/N), it just feels like it’s just us two and nothing else matters at that moment.” He stayed silent. “Johann, you have to promise me that you won’t tell her or anyone about this. What I did.. I don’t want anyone knowing, especially her. I don’t want to lose what I have with her.”

“Hey, dude relax.” He chuckled. “No te preocupes, you can trust me.”

This guilt is starting to eat me out alive.

I should never have done this in the first place. I should’ve just listened to Richard and leave her be at that party.

But then you never would’ve known how wonderful she really is.

“All things happen for a reason” she said. Maybe… I was supposed to find her. If I never did this, then I would’ve missed out on such a great person… but this is wrong. How this all started was wrong and it’s all my fault. How am I ever going tell her about this? Will I ever tell her? I don’t want to lose her. What we have is amazing and I don’t want to throw that all away. Will she ever talk to me again if she were to find out?

No.. I can’t tell her. I just can’t.

I fucked this whole thing up. I don’t want anybody else. I want her, only her.

I’m not any different from her ex. In fact, I think I’m worse. Using her just to try to get somebody jealous? Yeah, I’m a complete dick. I just didn’t expect for me to... actually really.. really.. like her. What have I gotten myself into? I wanted to tell her that night about everything. To just be able to come clean and hope that she’ll forgive me, but then she brought up her ex and I just couldn’t bring myself to break her heart even more.

I’m happy that I told Johann, though. Everybody else had left and he was there.. it just seemed right? I don’t know, I just really needed to get some relief. Saying it out loud made me feel a little better, I guess.

(Y/N) and I were currently in my car, looking for something to eat until we found a Ricobene’s near by, so we walked in and the sweet scent of food filled our noses. We ordered what we wanted to eat and found a spot we could sit at while we waited for them to call out our name. Her cheeks were rosy from all of the laughter we shared today and I honestly felt like we were on our way to being a happy couple. Like things are looking up for us, despite my biggest secret.

I can’t believe I’m lucky enough to be in the presence of this girl.

“Hey uh I wanted to ask you something real quick.”

“Sure. What’s up?”

“So, a couple of my friends and I are planning on having a little cookout in like a week. It’s just us coming together and having a good time.. and my bandmates will be there too. Well um.. I was wondering if you maybe wanted to come along? If you’re busy, I totally understand and it’s not – ”

“I would love to.” She cut me off. “Really?” I asked as she nodded. “Is it okay with you if I bring a friend or two? I’d like to have somebody there with me that I know besides you.” I laughed. “Of course. The more the merrier.”

I feel a little safe now to finally show her off to my friends. I mean, what’s the harm now? I doubt Richard will know who she is, Johann promised me that he wouldn’t tell anyone and the ones who know are excited to meet her. This is gonna be great, I know it.

It may have started off with me wanting to get with Emilia, but I found someone better and I don’t want to let her go.

“I’ll send you the details then.” I smiled as I saw her get up. “Oh! Hold that thought, they just called our name. Let’s go get our food! I’m hungry.” She laughed as she started walking away, me slowly following after her. I can’t wait to show her off now that I feel less guilty and everyone wanting to meet her. This is gonna be good, I know it.

After we had picked up our food, we had walked out and went back to my car and I drove us to a Drive – In movie theatre. (Y/N) has told me in the past that she hasn’t gone to one of these things in such a long time and wanted to go before they close it. I paid for our tickets and drove us to where there’s not a lot of people parked beside us. We both got out of the car as I opened the trunk, setting up the blankets and pillows I had brought with me.

“We’re all set.” I smiled as she climbed up, me following after her. “The movie should start any minute now, so we came just in time.”

She placed one of the pillows behind her back and sat up, reaching over for the food we had just bought earlier. “What? I’m hungry.” She laughed and reached inside the bag, taking out the breaded steak sandwiches. “Hey, I didn’t say anything.” She handed me mine and got herself comfortable.

People were grilling, many brought chairs to sit outside their cars and others were waiting in line to go and buy some snacks. This is such an old school type of date and honestly I am living for it. Soon enough, ‘Spider – Man: Into the Spider – Verse’ started playing on the big screen as people were now getting themselves ready to see the movie.

“I used to come to the Drive – In every once in a while with my family when I was younger.” She spoke. “Really?” I asked as she nodded. “I loved it. There was one time.. haha me and my dad had brought chairs, and these were the type where you could lie back and look up at the sky. We sat outside of the car while the rest of my family stayed inside. In the middle of the movie, I guess my dad must’ve gotten way too comfortable because the next thing I knew, I could hear him snoring next to me.” She laughed. “I tried to wake him up because the people who were next to us could hear him and he just told me that we’re never gonna see those people again and went back to sleep.”

“Oh my God..” I laughed as she leaned against me. “Yeah, that’s my dad for you.” Having her here in my arms.. I couldn’t wish for anything better. It honestly feels like we’re the only two people here even those there’s a little over a hundred of us here.

At some point during the movie, we had completely forgotten about it and just ended up lying down next to each other, sharing stories and stealing kisses. Honestly, tell me… what could be better than this? My index finger and thumb lifted up her chin so she could look directly at me as I leaned in for another kiss. I placed one of my hands on her waist, running my fingers up and down her side. I brought her a little closer to me as she pulled her lips away from my own and giggled. “I’m ticklish there..”

I raised my eyebrow and smirked. “Oh, really? Do you mean.. here?” I tickled the side of her stomach as she let out a laugh. “Joel! S – Stop! Hahaha!” She tried to push me away from her, but I held her in place as I continued, wanting to hear her laugh once more. “Joel! People – hahaha! – People are g – gonna be looking at us – ssss!” I stopped my movements as I let her breathe for a few moments.

“Oh my.. hahaha! Pinche Joel!” She chuckled and moved away as I lifted up my hands again. “N – No!”

“Relax!” I laughed. “I was just gonna do this..” I moved a strand of her hair away as I placed my lips on hers, giving her a quick kiss. “Did you think I was gonna tickle you again?” I smirked as she nodded. “I mean, I can always – ”

“No! Please!” We laughed as I leaned against my elbow, hoisting me up a bit as I looked at her. Her cheeks were rosy from smiling so much and her hair was all over the place… she was breathtaking. I got closer, leaning in as my lips hovered over hers for a few seconds. I could feel her breath against mine as I looked into her eyes. She’s so beautiful…

“Are you gonna kiss me or not?” She asked as I chuckled, leaning down and placing a sweet kiss onto her lips.

Another perfect date. I can’t wait for many more…

Next Chapter

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