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missjanjie · 4 years

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Take Me Back to the Start | (10/10)

Title: Take Me Back to the Start Summary: Everyone remembers their first love. Not everyone carries those feelings from childhood to senior year. Yet Brock is starting his last year of high school while still longing for the relationship he lost five years ago. Meanwhile, José is at the top of the food chain and seems to have it all together. But maybe their story isn’t over yet. Word Count: ~3k (this chapter) / ~31.4k (total) Relationship(s): Branjie (Brooke Lynn Hytes/Vanessa Vanjie Mateo), Sportsdoll (Jan Sport/Nicky Doll) Rating: E

read on ao3 | ko-fi

Brock stared at himself in the vanity mirror. He wasn’t sure what he was waiting for, maybe a sudden burst of energy, of enthusiasm, something to alleviate the knot of anxiety in his stomach.

Then José walked in with timing so perfect, Brock momentarily wondered if the universe had literally answered his prayers. “You ready for this, big guy?” he asked, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“As I’ll ever be,” he replied, placing his hand on top of José’s for a moment, then turned to face him. “But now I’ve got my good luck charm.” His tone brightened up as his arms looped around his boyfriend’s waist.

“Who, me?” José batted his lashes innocently, then let out a laugh louder than he intended, needing to clap his hand over his mouth. “You don’t need luck, but I’m glad to give you a boost,” he told him, kissing his temple.

Brock grinned fondly. “I always need you, baby,” he cooed sweetly. “You need to go take a seat though, I’m up any minute now,” he said, sharing a quick kiss before José left to take his seat in the audience.

The performance itself was a bit of a blur for Brock. He knew he was nailing every move (or at least hoped he was), but it didn’t feel like he was on stage. It was calm, like he was alone in the studio, headphones in and the world tuned out. This was his zen, his happy place. It was one of the only things in his life that he was unequivocally confident in, for better or for worse.

And when he was done, he still had a rush of endorphins washing over him. Brock had never quite understood what people meant when they described something as ‘as good as sex,’ but he could now comfortably admit that while sex won out, this was definitely close.

He went to the bathroom, splashed some water on his face, and looked at himself in the mirror. That was it. It was over. Win, lose, or draw, there was nothing he could do to change the impending outcome. And waiting was the hardest part.

“All competitors please return to the stage.”

The loudspeaker announcement was repeated a couple more times as the dancers made their way back to the stage. Everyone was full of the same nerves and anticipation, but Brock could hardly focus on anything, even when awards were being given out. All he could focus on were people moving across the stage to get their awards.

“And first place overall goes to…”

Brock had already come to terms with not placing. All the confidence he’d had during his performance had inexplicably dissipated. He was practicing his ‘I’m okay, I just need to try harder next time’ speech in his mind. He could get over this, it wasn’t the end of the world, he just–

“Brock Hayhoe!”

Nothing had ever snapped him back into reality faster. He nearly tripped over himself as he walked up to get his trophy, beaming broadly. Now, he was wondering why he’d doubted himself at all. He hadn’t been delusional during his performance, it was a culmination of everything he had been working for. He deserved this, and damn it, he was going to enjoy his moment.

And when he was finally allowed offstage, Brock ran right to where his mom, coach, and José were waiting. The only thing better than having this moment was sharing it with the people he loved. “We did it!”

“You did it.” Anna smiled with pride. “You’re the one that put in all the effort and hard work. We helped along the way.”

“And I couldn’t have done it without that help,” he replied as a compromise. He was too elated to argue, and moved right on, giving them all a hug, and José a big kiss on the lips.

“Let me see this shiny prize.” José grinned, picking up the trophy. “It’s gonna fit real nice in that spot you got saved for it,” he mused. “You sure as hell earned it.”

Brock chuckled softly, leaning down and kissing his cheek. “I told you, you’re my good luck charm.”

José grinned as he pulled his jacket on and handed Brock his. “The argument’s getting pretty compelling, I’ma give you that,” he admitted, leaning into his boyfriend’s side when the taller teen wrapped his arm around him, and stayed close as they made their way into the parking lot and said their goodbyes to Anna.

------

Brock had been riding the high of winning the competition well through Thanksgiving and into early December. He was finally able to quell the harsh voices in his mind that filled him with doubt and anxiety. Every time he looked at that trophy, front and center on his shelf, he was reminded that finally, everything was paying off just as he’d hoped.

And José’s voice was louder than all of those negative ones anyway. The two of them remained nearly inseparable, both of them watching TV in Brock’s room when suddenly, Joan called them downstairs. They jumped up and raced down – she was clearly either excited or concerned based on her high-pitched tone.

“What’s going on?” Brock asked.

She handed a large envelope to him. “You have mail.”

“It’s from the Boston Conservatory,” he read, his voice suddenly hushed. “I applied for an early decision,” he explained to José. His logic had been that he would only do that for his top choice. That way, if he got in, he got the decision making out of the way early, and if he didn’t, he would have more time to work on a new plan.

“It’s big, that’s a good sign,” José offered.

“You think anything big is a good sign,” Brock retorted, making sure he whispered soft enough for his mom not to hear. With a deep breath, he opened the letter, but closed his eyes as he took the piece of paper in the front out. He kept his eyes shut for another moment before finally reading his fate. “I… I got in,” he said before it really hit. “I got in!”

“You got in!” José was much louder, hugging him tightly.

Joan put her hand over her heart as she looked on with pride. “I can’t believe you’re moving across the country, I’m so proud of you. Oh, I’ve got to go call your grandmother,” she remarked gleefully as she went into the other room.

But José’s enthusiasm started to die down. “You’re moving across the country?”

“Well, yeah, that’s where Massachusetts is,” he explained as they went back to his room and sat down on his bed.

José shook his hands out and tried to hype himself back up. This was Brock’s moment, he wasn’t going to ruin it over those details. “Cool, yeah. I’m happy for you. I knew you was gonna get into a good school.”

“José, I…”

He shook his head, already feeling guilty because Brock didn’t sound so excited anymore. “No, no, we ain’t doing this right now. We’re celebrating you. Because I’m happy for you.” His voice eased from defensive to sincere, his expression softening. “Because I love you.”

Brock’s expression relaxed into a smile. “I love you too.” He took both of José’s hands into his own. “And we’re gonna celebrate, okay? We’ll go out for dinner, see if we can convince my mom to let us have some champagne.” He started to kiss along his jawline as he spoke. “Then we’ll come back here and celebrate in our own way.”

José didn’t mean to laugh, but he thought it was cute how Brock was just trying to distract him. And he let it work, he had no reason not to. He knew they would have to sit and talk about their feelings eventually, but that could wait. Maybe if he waited long enough, Brock would forget about it entirely.

------

Brock sighed, strumming his fingers against the table and sipping his iced coffee. If there was one thing he needed, it was to talk to his friends, especially since Courtney and Steve had been on this relationship journey with him from the beginning. “I just feel bad, you know. I get how he feels, getting into this school is everything to me, but up until that, he was everything to me. I just don’t know where to go from here.”

Courtney frowned and scooted her chair closer to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You’re still gonna go, aren’t you?”

“Of course, that’s not even a question.”

“Good,” Steve chimed in, “because we were both ready to kick your ass all the way from here to Boston.”

Courtney nodded in agreement, but quickly went back to being concerned. “Have you guys talked about it yet?”

“Not yet,” Brock told her. “I will, I promise. We just both kind of came to the conclusion that we didn’t want to let that sour the mood. He knows I know that something wasn’t right, and that we have to work things out. But I have faith, I’m not too worried.”

His friends nodded in understanding; even if they wouldn’t outright say it, they had become invested in the final outcome as well. “When are you seeing him next?” Steve asked.

Brock glanced out the door of the Starbucks. “I’m actually going right to his place from here, wish me luck.” He hugged both his friends before he got up. “Oh, wait,” he paused, texting José, then getting back in line shortly after.

So the first thing he did when José let him inside was hand him his coffee. “See? I told you I knew what your usual was.”

José took a sip, then gave a signal of approval. “You did good, baby. You did good.” He gestured to him to follow upstairs and they went into his bedroom. He sat cross-legged on his bed and looked up at Brock expectantly. He knew what was coming, neither of them said so, but it was a gut feeling.

And Brock knew exactly what José was thinking, so he saw no need to beat around the bush. He spun the desk chair around so when he sat, they were face-to-face. And with a deep exhale, he ripped the bandage off. “I know you’re upset that I’m going so far away. Let’s talk about it.”

He didn’t think he would ever get used to how comfortable Brock was with being blunt with him. It was a relatively new development, considering how long they had spent dancing around their feelings. It was jarring – he was usually the one to take the ‘no bullshit’ approach. “With you bein’ all the way across the country without me aren’t you gonna forget about me? What’s gonna stop you from moving on?”

Brock frowned, the sadness in his boyfriend’s eyes absolutely crushed him. “I couldn’t forget about you if I tried, and believe me I’ve tried. In case you’ve forgotten, I couldn’t forget about my feelings for you after five years, I think I can make it a few months at a time.”

“It’s different, B,” José insisted. “We still saw each other almost every day, even though we didn’t talk. When you’re in Boston, you’re gonna meet all kinds of cool East Coast people… maybe you won’t need me anymore.”

“Oh, baby…” Brock frowned and cupped his boyfriend’s face. “I don’t think you understand just how incredible and unique you are. I could travel across the whole world, meet new people every day, and I know for a fact that no one will ever hold a candle to you. You are so special, you always have been.” He placed a kiss to his forehead before pulling back. “Do you have a college plan yet?”

José looked down and away, shaking his head. “I dunno if I’m the college type, boo. Maybe community college. My mama wants me to go to a trade school, learn some practical shit like plumbing or welding or whatever.”

“And those are both great options if that’s what you want to do,” Brock assured, then paused. “What do you wanna do?”

He laughed humorlessly, chewing on his lip. “You really wanna know?”

“Of course.”

“I wanna go to beauty school.” It was the first time he had actually said it out loud, but if José could confide in anyone, he knew it would be his boyfriend. “You know, do hair and makeup and all that… but it ain’t easy to make a living off of that.”

Brock moved to sit next to him on the bed. “If that’s what you’re passionate about, that’s what you have to do. If you want to be a makeup artist, I know you’re gonna be the best makeup artist around. You always give your all with everything you’re passionate about.”

José looked at him with a soft smile and a glimmer of hope in his eyes. “You think so? ‘Cause, I mean, I could look for schools out there, don’t really matter what state I get licensed in.”

“Now we’re talking,” he encouraged. “We could get an apartment together, it’ll be cheaper than room and board. I mean, it’s a big step, but…”

“No, wait, I like the sound of that,” José brightened up. “You and me in our own little place, being all domestic and shit… That’s real cute, I see that for us.”

Brock wrapped an arm around him and kissed the top of his head. “You don’t have to commit to anything yet. You’ve got plenty of time, but now you know that you’ve got options, that we can make it work.” He ran his fingers gently through José’s hair. “And if you decide you don’t wanna make that move, we’ll do the long distance thing. We’ll have phone calls and FaceTime, we’ll be able to meet up at every break.”

José tossed his now-empty cup in the trash and laid down, tugging on Brock to join him and cuddling into his side. “Truth is, I don’t see any future without you in it. I know we haven’t been back together all that long, but… I dunno, I just know, you know?”

“I know.” He chuckled lightly. “I feel that too. Like… it feels fast, but fast is the right speed.”

“Could be ‘cause we already put in four years of work,” José mused. “You know, built the foundation.”

Brock held José close and kissed his forehead. “We have a great foundation. Sturdy,” he hummed.

------

José let out a frustrated huff. “Will you fucking hold still?”

“I’m trying!” Brock insisted. “I’m not used to things poking me in the eye like that,” he whined, doing his best to keep his face and body still so José could keep going.

And he did appreciate the effort, holding Brock’s head steady with one hand while he continued the eye makeup with the other. He had already come far too close to completely messing up the eye, and he wasn’t about to risk anything now that he was so close to getting this second eye. “Oooh shit, this is looking real pretty. Definitely the best eye look so far.”

“I can’t wait to see it,” Brock hummed.

“You’re gonna love it. Now shut up so I can do your lips,” José said as he set the brush and palette down and picked up the lip liner. “I’ma try to overline it again, I watched more tutorials so I think I can get it right this time.”

Brock didn’t want to disrupt him again, so he just stayed completely still while José continued with his masterpiece.

“Okay, just needs setting spray and it’s done,” José announced, spritzing over his boyfriend’s face, then taking a step back to admire his handiwork. “And that’s it, go on and take a look.”

Brock opened his eyes right away and looked in the mirror. “Oh wow, babe, this came out so good,” he beamed brightly. “I am so impressed, you’re really getting better each time.”

“Good, gotta build up that portfolio,” he hummed, grabbing his phone. “Alright, look at me and give me fashion.”

“Fashion, got it,” he giggled, then did his best to give a ‘model’ pose while José took pictures.

José gave a nod of approval when he decided he’d gotten enough options. “I think that’s a wrap,” he hummed. “You’ll help me pick which ones to send to Courtney, right?” After Brock had explained José’s new endeavor to his friend, she had offered to edit them to enhance his portfolio even more. So far, he had built up a decent repertoire, as he was lucky enough to have plenty of friends – and a very supportive and patient boyfriend – that were happy to be painted by him.

“Of course. I say we pick a top three at most, that should be enough to work with,” Brock suggested as he got up. He wrapped his arms around José’s waist. “I am so proud of you, you’ve really dove into this, and any cosmetology school is gonna be lucky to have you.”

“Couldn’t have done it without you,” José beamed. “Literally, couldn’t afford all this fuckin’ makeup on my own,” he teased, then looked up at him sincerely. “No, but really, thank you for believing in me, I knew you had to be the first person I told for a reason.”

Brock ruffled José’s hair lightly. “There should never be any doubt in your mind that I believe in you more than anything. You’ve supported me through so much when it comes to my dreams, now, I’m just happy I get to do the same for you.”

José leaned his head against Brock’s chest, holding him close. “We make a good team, don’t we? Hopefully we can keep being a good team in Boston.”

“Don’t worry, babe,” Brock smiled, rubbing his boyfriend’s back, “even if we can’t, it’ll take a lot more than three thousand miles to break up this team.”

#branjie #branjie fic #rpdr rpf #rpdr fanfiction #oh my god can you guys believe this is actually done #it only took me nine months lmao

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eurosong · 4 years

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Undo my ESC

Good evening, folks! If you saw my first instalment of “Undo my ESC”, the annual feature where I make a year’s Eurovision better for me by making alterations in each country, you might have thought that ESC getting cancelled had dulled my edge, since, comparing to usual standards, I hardly changed much at all there. Well, that’s because, once again, we have seriously uneven semis, and Semi #1 would have been killer, whilst Semi #2 would have been dead. Here is what Í would have done to even those semis up! 🇦🇱 Albania: The Albanian delegation had seemingly done all it could to wash its hands of, well, two years of comparatively excellent results with authentic, melancholically poëtic and qualitative tracks, namely Malland Ktheju tokës. They brought in Byuckman, in whose interest it is for the contest to become as generically “radio-friendly” as possible, and the genius who brought us lyrics like “this is love/rain falls from above”. As judges. Of a serious musical festival. The foreign jurors did as expected, and voted for the appointed “bop”, but were foiled, however, by one of the minority Albanian jurors on the panel who put it low in her ranks. An actual renowned music professor who got called all the names under the sun for doing so. And so, to an ensuing shitstorm, the classical and powerful Shaj prevailed instead. Unfortunately, the battle was won but the war was lost, because the representative herself took the lessons of 2018-9, threw them down the aeroplane toilet on the way to LA, and ripped the spirit out of the song, reverting back to the previous Albanian trend of terrible “revamps” and laboured translations into English. The result, Fall from the sky, is but a husk of the original. In my ESC, I’d probably simply keeping the original version of Shaj, which was my uncontested #1 of all songs, but part of me would opt for Ajër, which I love almost as well but which doesn’t carry the baggage of hanging over my head like the sword of Democles this entire season. 🇦🇲 Armenia: I’ve more often than not loved the entries of Hayastan, from the joyous Jan Jan to the soaring Fly with me and defiant Walking out. To say they took a step back this year is kind – it was more like a powerful jump backwards that landed them in the nearest ocean, where they sank like a stone. It was one of the most singularly unpalatable NFs that I have ever watched in this era. Rather than retraumatise myself by going into detail about it, I’ll just say, I would have sent Srbuk or Artsvik again to get the top 10 that I feel both warranted!

🇦🇹 Austria: What a journey for Österreich. From Conchita to this guy, a perky homophobe who explicitly said he wished his kids would not turn out to be gay. He comes up with a third-rate impersonator of a third-rate Benjamin Ingrosso impersonator’s third-rate impersonation of a Timberlake b-side. I would throw that in the bin and invite Pænda back from last year for a shot at redemption after her gorgeous Limits got slept on in 2019.

🇧🇬 Bulgaria: Some people had the neck to say to me “who needs Hungary when Bulgaria is coming back?” Well, I do. Hungary were constantly in the top of my rankings, and just quietly and consistently brought quality. Bulgaria has brought me one good thing – Poli Genova’s œuvre – and a tonne of hype. Their song this year was one of the favourites, and I still can’t wrap my head around how other than the force of PR. It’s a bizarre, unsettling combination of passive-aggressive “look how much you’re making me hurt myself” lyrics with Disneyish saccharine accompaniment, topped off with a key change?! For want yet again of a national final, I would bring Poli back – third time even luckier? 🇨🇿 Czechia: The Bohemians (and Moravians) keep it contemporary but superficial for a third year running, although, thankfully, for the first time since they began doing national finals, we finally have a song without a dubious attitude towards women in the lyrics. Not that there is much to analyse in those lyrics. It’s a merely ok song for me, no better, no worse: a superior alternative would have been Barbara Mochowa’s lush and contemplative second effort, White and black holes, or the glorious 90s British indie-influenced All the blood. 🇩🇰 Denmark: Did Denmark confound international monitors into calling it the world’s happiest country by exposing them to the relentlessly cheery songs that they pick for Eurovision lately? And yet – I really do say yes to Yes, To a certain extent, to a limited amount of exposure, and despite the fact that it leans a little too hard into the territory of sounding like a second Little talks. It was one of the few good songs from DMGP – I also liked the 80s shoegaze-ish Den eneste goth– and I feel so mad at DR that they won’t give Ben and Tan a guaranteed second shot to represent their country after they won in front of an empty crowd. 🇪🇪 Estonia: The days of Eesti being Beesti seem like from a distant memory to me, but there was some quality and quirkiness in Eesti Laul, buried under mountains of beigedom, like the rich-voiced Egert Miller’s soulful Georgia, the jazzy Write about me, or the feisty earworm that was Ping pong. Instead, we got a dreary dirge with sub-Hallmark lines about wot luv is, which would have sounded dated in a contest 30 years ago, sung by a repugnant guy who tried to get people to vote for him last year by leaning on the idea that he was the “only true Estonian.” I’d have Egert get his rightful place as Jüri Pootsmann’s spiritual successor. 🇫🇮 Finland: I was one of the few to be jubilant when a bizarre ode to an Italian porn star with a backing track sounding like a violated version of Eläköön elämä came second in the polls to its spiritual opposite: a shy and rather awkward guy singing a quietly moving song about the passing of time. I love Looking back and wouldn’t change a thing. 🇬🇪 Georgia: You never know what to expect from Georgia, except the unexpected, and yet even I was surprised by what they came up with: a close-shaven guy with veins popping in his head screaming “why don’t you love meeeee?” to a rocky, electronic backdrop. Me being me, I actually do like it a lot. “Take me as I am” sounds like a veiled potshot at the big 5 and a vindication of Georgia’s “keep it weird, send what we want” philosophy. I could suggest that the lyrics, that sound like those of a spurned angsty teen, change a bit, but that would be defeating the purpose of Georgia: one takes them as they are. 🇬🇪 Greece: So, somehow, despite S!STERS coming dead last with 0 pts in the televote last year, using exclamation marks to substitute the letter I is now a thing in Eurovision with the advent of Superg!rl. I spent an hour watching folk waffle on in Greek in its reveal show only for them to reveal the song literally at the very end, so after that, it was a little underwhelming, and nowhere near as good as Better love in 2019. I don’t hate it – and the music video’s concept of her being an amazing superhero who can change the world, but instead she’s stopping people slipping over bananas and rescuing cats from trees is weirdly endearing, so it can stay, but I’d improve the lyrics, particularly in the chorus. “I’m a supergirl, supergirl, in a crazy world, crazy world” is not much higher than “this is love, rain falls from above” in historically bad Greek lyrics at ESC. 🇮🇸 Iceland: Daði Freyr came back from near-victory with the delightful Is this love, added a lovely inspiration in his newborn daughter to a similarly funky and playful track, and came out with Think about things. Unlike what usually happens with songs that are a little bit odd, I was positively surprised to see it walk the NF, and become a phenomenon even outside the ESC fandom. This was perfect and joyous from beginning to end. I hope Iceland will not be like the other Nordics, and will invite Daði directly back .🇱🇻 Latvia: I have come to enjoy the bizarre chaötic energy of Still breathing, It’s a hot mess, but I take weird over dull any day. It wasn’t my favourite in Supernova – that would be the effortlessly cool Polyester, an earworm with a social conscience, written about the cost of fast fashion but dismissed by many people as “she luvs t-shirts song lol”. Given that Samanta Tina tried over half a dozen times to go to ESC, finally won and then had the chance ripped out of her hands by the cancellation, I don’t have the heart to remove her from my ideal ESC 2020 though. She stays, but maybe the staging changes? It’s odd to have what you believe is a feminist anthem but then relegate your backing singers to in the distance, their faces shielded away. 🇲🇩 Moldova: Life is too short to follow Moldovan national finals, especially when you know, lately, that whoever is backed by the hilariously inaptly named Dream team will win there. They are like a parasite, sucking out the colour and fun out of a country that once had plenty of both – cross-reference Hora din Moldova or Lăutar to name just two examples. I guess out of an uninspiring lineüp, I’d go for Moldoviţa for having at least a hint of the brassy folk that used to be their calling card. 🇵🇱 Poland: Speaking of calling cards, after a one year hiatus with an arresting combo of white voice and rocky instrumentation, Poland has returned to what it has most often done in recent years – presented us with an absolute dirge, Empires, which seems like it was written by an unenthusiastic English student whose homework assignment (for which they received a generous C-) was to write a poëm with a bunch of metaphors “we’re moths to a flame, birds to a pane of glass, gasoline and a match”. Despite having a big music industry from which to choose many gems, Poland offers me little alternative choice given that there were only three songs in their grand final – one by the Czech representative last year who, as you might guess from what I said literally a sentence up, isn’t even Polish!Horny Elf, who’s contractually obliged to write only creepy lyrics for songs, tried to represent Polska with a song inspired by a true-life situation where he went around Tel Aviv with a cardboard cutout of one of the hostesses of the show. It’s a love song inspired by gallivanting around with a piece of cardboard. Addressed to that actual hostess. And it’s an almighty earworm that hasn’t escaped my mind since. Amazingly, his Lucy would be my Polish representative. 🇵🇹 Portugal: Portugal is another country beloved by me by for dancing to the beat of its own drummer, or perhaps, rather shedding tears to the strumming of its own fado guitar. They struggled being different, they won being different, and for the last few years they’ve struggled again, despite having a lot of support for both O jardim and Telemóveis amongst fans. This year, the televote went for one interesting song, the charmingly Gallic, accordion-drenched Passe-partout, a song about a cultured girl shaking off her boorish ex who could “never even get into Piaf”, whilst the jury got behind another interesting song, Gerbera, an entrancing, arresting and poëtic song laden with metaphor about the idea of music competing itself. This let Medo de sentir,second in both polls, turn silver into gold. It’s a lovely, heart-felt track, but rather unexceptional - I would have had one of the other more singular songs win. 🇸🇲 San Marino: The weird boil on the face of ESC that somehow never pops, SM is back after its bewildering qualification with a tone-deaf dentist wailing to a microwaved disco song… with something actually palatable, sort of. The aptly named Freaky is dated, odd, overly busy, but Senhit has a lot of charisma, and the idea of “break[ing] all the rules, mak[ing] up some new [ones] and destroy[ing] all of them too” and “life goes by too quickly not to be freaking it up”, well, maybe we do get on board. 🇷🇸 Serbia: Serbia is usually a byword for quality at the contest – they won with one of the best 21st century winners hands down in Molitva, and also sent some of the most beautiful compositions in the contest’s history at the hands of Željko. This year, they decided to join in the leitmotif of reliable countries sucking by sending a group that sound like a third-rate mid-2000s girl band from Transnistria when beautiful songs like Cvet sa Prokletija were right there. 🇨🇭 Switzerland: Fair play to the Swiss for not doing a Cyprus and leaning in on their success with their male Fuego, She gat me, and instead going in a completely different direction with this moody effort. I’m not entirely convinced by the teenage emo-ish lyrics or the unnecessary falsetto, but Répondez-moi is a refreshing effort, and has the bonus of being in French too! And the automatic qualifiers: 🇫🇷 France: You’ve heard of France, right? You know, that wee country south of Belgium, north of Andorra, not much of a music industry… or so you’d think, given that the troolee jeenyuss new delegation, who abandoned their brilliant national final which showcased how diverse and qualitative their music scene is despite it being a huge success in the fandom, and instead reached out to the writer of last year’s last place song for the UK and a few other rentaswedes and they produced something that sounds like a b-side that not even Westlife would have recorded, replete with a stock key change. About as French as IKEA köttbullar. A real shame for one of Europe’s most highly esteemed cultural hotbeds. If they wanted to pick Tom Leeb, who seems like a nice guy and has written some lovely music, he could have made his own song and it would have indubitably been scores better than this. 🇪🇸 Spain: I’m going to apply this to all the automatic qualifiers voting on this semi-final: they scrapped a national final for this? OT was not an ideal format as last year demonstrated with its shit show of contestants sabotaging themselves so as not to get picked for ESC – but still. There’s not much I can say about this other than I don’t like it much and I’d rather Spain return to a proper NF. You don’t spend time trapped on a bus where this song with its torturous falsetto was on replay and emerge with fond feelings. 🇬🇧 United Kingdom: Usually, in this space, I can point to a song that the UK should have sent and that I fell in love with – like I wish I loved you more or You. Once again, though, another big 6 nation scrapped their NF after tanking it with a bizarre format last year. The BBC said nothing for months, then were unwilling to spend tv time on ESC this year so just blurted out an announcement of an announcement in about 40 seconds after some dance show. And then they dropped this song. It’s… passable at best, with an annoying chorus (especially that beat in “my last… breath”) and a staggering amount of repetition in a song that clocks in at only around 80% of the standard Eurovision song length. James Newman surely could have come up with something better. It’s a baby step in the right direction, but one taken at the shore where you need to start running to avoid getting pulled away in a rip.

#eurovision #eurovision song contest #opinion #esc 2020 #eurovision 2020

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maasterrookie · 6 years

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A Fiets Feat. ft. 33B, a stranger, and a bicycle repair shop

Act I: Bent, but not broken.

It was a chilly night filled with warm company and cold beer. Four couples plus one Paige, parked their metaphorical nine-wheeled vehicle at De Gouverneur where they squeezed around two tiny round tables on the crowded, and coveted terrace. Dutch, German, and English could be heard at varying decibel levels, with hybrids of all three within the same sentence.

Following Frank’s birthday toast, a broken glass once filled with Licor 43, and a plan to ride back by taxi, bus, and bicycle, the ennead dissembled. Tobi and Paige, the only cyclists, set off—first to her bike, locked up close by on the Markt.

Jump on the back! I’ll drive us to your bike.

I think maybe I should drive, and you should get on the back…usually it’s the guy who drives.

No, no, no, I can do it. This is feminism.

(note: this is not feminism)

Tobi reluctantly hops on the back and Paige, with unwavering pride and trembling legs, pushes forward across the cobblestones. Not having exceeded 15 meters from their starting point, she makes the fateful decision to ride over the curb (in her defense, the height differential was at most 5 centimeters). The front wheel performs the task seamlessly. The rear tire, is not so lucky.

THWUMP

The bike is immobilized. The rear wheel looks like what can only be described as pizza dough being tossed in the air by an Italian chef. With some effort, it is popped into place just for the walk back. With their heads hanging low, and hands freezing cold, Tobi and Paige escort their bicycles over the river and all the way home.

End scene.

Act II: Fiets, fiets everywhere, but not a shop to fix them

And thus starts the saga of Paige and her bicycle. The next day is Sunday, when hardly anything is open. And the day following is Monday (are you keeping up?), when the same holds true (Chorus sings: why Maastricht, WHY?!?! This is such an inconvenient cultural norm, and frankly, counterintuitive coming from a society built on efficiency).

Per the suggestion of Freddy, I check with the affordable mobile bicycle repair shop. Looking at photos of my taco shell-esque wheel, they suggest I bring it to the shop because of the degree of the damage. The soonest he can see me is Tuesday and if not, then not for another two weeks. Sounds easy enough, right? The catch: I am in class on Tuesday from 8:30 – 20:00 with only three half-hour breaks. The aforementioned bicycle shop is 4.2 km away. This is impossible. Thus, I adopt the second phrase (out of two…) I can say in Dutch: zorgen voor morgen.

End scene

Act II: There aren’t enough letters in the alphabet

Plan A: With an infinite amount of coursework and intermittent existential crises, the last thing I need is my mode of transportation to be kaput. As a mature and focused student, wholly dedicated to my coursework, I decline my dear friends’ invitation for a night out after my 11.5 hour day of uni because I am all the things I have described myself to be and recognize the dire need to get this bicycle fixed the next morning and dive into my coursework—sans hangover (also I don’t know how the bus system works and really can’t be bothered to walk that far…).

7:30, Wednesday morning: I wake up early to myself a breakfast worthy of the queen that I tell myself I am, and get ready at a nice pace that properly wakes me up.

9:30: I pack up my book bag, and depart with the plan to walk my bike 3 km to the closest, most affordable, and quickest cycle shop in order to arrive when it opens at 10:00. I try to pop the wheel back into a position so that it can be walked, but as most things go in my life, it becomes evident that the wheel only had the stamina for that night to make it home that fateful night. Plan A is scrapped.

Plan B: 9:45: Jan finds me, despondent and defeated in front of our house, unsure of my next move since the bike is too heavy to half-carry that distance. In his most selfless, goodhearted, Jan-fashion, he offers to drive me and the crippled bike to the shop despite whatever plan he had for himself this Wednesday morning.

With some awkward maneuvering, clumsy knotting, and bungee cord assemblage, we have the bike halfway sticking out of his trunk, and are in place to get on the road. Key in ignition, foot on the gas, and…the battery is dead (as is part of my soul at this point). We haul the bike back into the house, and I move on to plan C.

Plan C-E: Phone screening. I call three repair shops, asking if they offer mobile services, or pick-up services. None do. I look up bus regulations to see if bicycles are allowed. They are not. I message an acquaintance with a car to see if she is available to do me such an inconvenient favor. She is not (thanks for being open to helping later, Trish!).

Plan F: What I have told myself is my last ditch-effort resigns me to posting on Sharing is Caring (a widely-used facebook page for Maasi residents where services, suggestions, warnings, and helpful tips are among the myriad of posts that make it up). I briefly explain my predicament (maybe I should have posted everything above…) and am advised by Sven to go to the repair shop just around the corner from where I live. I had been avoiding this option per Freddy’s warning that it was pricy (usually I am willing to pay for convenience, but as I am a broke student again…). Sven assures me it won’t be too expensive and it will probably be ready that day.

I am complaining about all of this to my roommate, Jule, and she mentions that she needs to fix her bike so we decide to drag ours together to this place. I’m in—roommate bonding, get my bike fixed (probably today!), and the weather is gorgeous. Let’s drag these POS bikes 500m and get it over with.

We drag them, it’s no easy task (my arms were sore the next day…), they take one look at my bike and say I should go somewhere else. Why? Not because they can’t do it…they assure me this is possible, but looking at me they know I can’t afford it. When I ask how much, he says without blinking “130 euros”. I black out, and somehow get my bike home with Jule’s help.

Intermission

Act III: Fools rush in

Plan G: Looking back at my post on Sharing is Caring, I have some suggested persons tagged. I reach out to them and get a response from one kind stranger. He says he has not repaired bicycles in a while but would be happy to help.

At this point my expectations are so low, they are at the bottom of the River of Styx in the Underworld, so I give him my address and expect him at 2pm on Thursday (for my mom and any other nervous skeptics reading this, we had a mutual friend, he is a student at UM, plus he came when some of my roommates were home).

True to his word, he brings a wheel, tools, some interesting conversation, and he sets to work. About an hour later he goes to pump up the tire and realizes he popped the tube in the process…without hesitation he says he will take the tube from his own bike (!) and replace mine, leaving him to walk home, which he “does not mind”. My only thoughts are “how did I find such a kind, semi-capable stranger?!”. Cool. As long as I get a working rear wheel at the end, I’m happy this will all be over.

Thankfully I kept my expectations low because the kind stranger ended up popping the second tube as well…at this point we’re both ready for it to be over. He starts suggesting remedies for me to take care of the tube after he leaves. Unbeknownst to him, the debacle of this bicycle saga has filled me with a confidence I didn’t know existed outside of my typical placating behavior. I ask that he comes back tomorrow with a new tube before I pay him because I’ll be damned if I pay this guy for creating a whole new problem for me. He agrees and goes on his way.

Plan H: I am filled with some guilt the next morning over asking him to come back. Rationalizing that as he was acting as a good Samaritan (without being tied to any organization to fix the wheel he is technically not liable beyond his own conscience to fix what he broke in the process), I tell him I will pay 20 instead of the originally agreed upon 30 euro and let him off the hook (reasonable?).

Plan I: The bike is now maneuverable, but not ridable, thus I return to plan A. I walk the bike on a lovely Saturday morning (it’s been a week now since the incident) to the originally planned repair shop. They are skeptical looking at it, especially when I explain that I let someone unaffiliated with a repair shop fix it.

Turns out the formerly three-gear rear wheel is now a single speed (per the kind stranger’s semi-capable handiwork), but nonetheless rideable. At this point, it’s really a victory that I maintained my sanity enough to not toss myself into the Maas after pushing the bicycle in first.

Act IV: The epilogue

At some point I will dish out the cash to get a proper rear wheel (currently accepting donations…majority of the funds will be used for therapy and gelato), but for now, I am going to enjoy the beautiful Dutch weather and continue with my internal affirmations to avoid crying in the shower over my imposter syndrome and crippling self-doubt.

Meanwhile, I have cut my hair in an attempt to metaphorically rid myself of this entire situation. Otherwise…life is pretty good for this one in Maastricht.

The end.

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zacandshan · 7 years

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Our first day in Ecuador was a short stopover in a town called Guayaquil. We decided to stay only one night because the biggest draw for us was heading to Banos, but there was one thing our young animal lover Zaccy couldn’t resist seeing before we set off- an animal reserve! Especially this one, which consisted of Flamingos, Tortoises, Otters, Monkeys, but the most appealing to see for Zac was - SLOTHS. The Animal Reserve was AMAZING. We ooh’d & ahh’d over every animal we saw. They all roam free with very little keeping them there. We saw so many Tortoises just roaming around through the reeds & even more Iguana’s in Reindeer pens. We did a complete lap of the Reserve & didn’t see a single Sloth, so we decided to go back around again & pay more attention to the signs. Of course there was a Sloth in one of the first pens we’d passed! He was sleeping in a little dugout right in front of us but in our haste to find one we didn’t see him right away. Seeing so many cool animals kept us smiling all afternoon. We stayed at the Dream Kapture Hostel, which was really lovely too. It had a teeny tiny pool which was perfect since it was mid 30s while we were there. We sat in the pool in a blow up chair, beer in hand & booked our Hostel in Banos & begun planning what we’d do while we were there.

The lady at the Hostel had told us the bus leaves for Banos every day at 12.30-12.45ish, so we made our way there with our packs that are getting scarily heavier each time we pack them. The taxi arrived at the Terminal at 11:50am exactly, which was a lot later than we would’ve liked because we had hoped to get lunch & casually stroll around to find the best company to travel with. This meant that finding a bus to get on was our first & only priority. We went to the area where all the bus companies were & Zac spotted one called “Banos”. We rushed up to the counter & the person serving us told us it was leaving in 10 minutes! It was only $22 for us both so I got some cash out & sent Zac off to get us some lunch while I paid for the tickets. After I’d gotten the tickets & interpreted that we had to go up a level for the bus I waited in the spot we’d agreed upon for Zac, stressing out as minute by precious minute went past & there was no sign of him! It didn’t help that it was a hectic bus terminal & most of the men were about Zac’s build & dark eyed & haired! It was 3 minutes until we had to leave when I spotted him & ran towards him as fast as I possibly could with 20kgs hanging from my body! We made a mad dash up the escalator where of course people in no rush at all were completely congested & making it impossible to get through. When we reached the second floor & ran to the buses, we were told it was the next floor up. At this point we had 1 minute until the departure time & our bodies were already aching from the weight of our packs & heavy bags hanging from every limb! We hobbled/ran up another escalator & saw the bus company that we were going with, thankfully they hadn’t left yet but we were rushed onto the bus & soon comfortably sitting down, with lunch & everything! We made it with seconds to spare & then we were off on our 6 hour journey to Banos!

A child & his Mother got on the bus a few stops after us. The child who was about 4 was sitting in front of me, he was really shy but kept poking his head over the seat to suss out who we were & probably curious because we look so different. I kept poking my tongue at him & pulling silly faces until he eventually cracked & began doing it back. After that he was little Mr Chatterbox! Pointing at things & talking about them. Pointing to lettering on our window & saying “uno, dos, tres, quartro” counting the letters. I was nodding, & ahh’ing along. I pulled out some hand sanitiser which smells like Banana & he stuck out his hand to try some, so I put a little in his hand & gestured for him to smell it. He laughed & then laughed some more when it was all cold when he rubbed it all over his hands. He became obsessed with it & kept asking for more & more. I said no more over & over again, purely because I wasn’t going to have any left & you come to rely on it pretty heavily in South America! I eventually caved & on the last time I put a dollop in his hand & he smashed his palm up into his face getting the hand sanitiser all in his eyes & nose! He started crying to his Mum & pointing at me! Hahaha. I was mortified! Once he calmed down & got over it he started asking for more again but I was pretty happy to say no this time, little traitor! He eventually fell asleep & left me to listen to my podcasts.

We arrived in at Banos at around 7pm. We got our bags & started making our way down the first street we saw. We stopped in at a Crepe shop & asked the people working if they knew where our Hostel (Hostel Chimenea) was, to which they gave us really good directions & we found it within 10 minutes! We had booked a private room, which we found had a double bed & a single, our own bathroom & balcony with a really pretty view over Banos! Right next door to the hostel was a gorgeous waterfall which we got a perfect view of from the rooftop restaurant of the Hostel. We ditched our bags & set out to find some dinner. The town was absolutely buzzing with Christmas lights & decorations everywhere, music, street food & people. There was a store front seeing donuts which Zaccy couldn’t resist so we decided that was good enough for dinner & continued exploring. After walking for a while I got fairly hungry so we pulled into a restaurant, ordered beers & food & sat listening to a man playing guitar & singing. He said he would play something romantic for us (spew!) and then put his CD down on our table, saying it was for us, no no for us! At the end of his set he came up casually mentioning it was for $5. He’d played basically solely for us so we couldn’t very well turn him down & bought a bloody Spanish CD we’ll likely never listen to again (struggling to remember whether we even have anything that can play CD’s these days!) but it was all in good fun.

These may look like your ordinary hot chocolates, but in actual fact at Arome in Banos, you can pick out any block of chocolate from their store & they melt it down into a drink for you. Yup, a whole block. Zac chose a passionfruit infusion & I chose Andean Rose which was like a Turkish Delight. SO YUMMY! Ecuador is famous for its choccy & there are Cacao trees EVERYWHERE so it would’ve been rude not to indulge a little. The quality was amazing & the blocks we selected had won Gold & Silver for best chocolates blends in the world in 2016!

Our first day in Banos was Christmas day! We decided to take it easy & just stuff ourselves with food. Breakfast was banana splits & we had dinner at a nice restaurant where a couple from the Nederland’s sat down next to us at the bar style bench we were sitting at overlooking the street. We quickly got chatting to them & discovered they were on a 6 month unpaid break from work. They’d been to South America several times & we bonded over what we’d each had planned. They had just come from the Galapagos & raved about the things they’d seen & showed us photos of them swimming with manta-rays. The guy Jan is an Engineer, but as a hobby does up old VW Combi vans. They also showed us pictures of their apartment & a spare sleep out they have & said we were more than welcome if ever we find ourselves in the Nederland’s! 20 minutes outside of Amsterdam & everything. Happy days! We all were appropriately merry by the time we left, and by appropriately merry of course I mean completely trashed (we had drunk the restaurant out of vodka so we had to swap to rum instead), but exchanged details & parted ways, stumbling in the directions of our respective hostels.

The next morning we woke up & decided we’d go to the End of the World swing! It sits perched high on a mountain & hangs from a tree & you get to swing out over the edge of the steep mountain. We’d read that it was usually very busy especially when you go with a tour company but you could catch a taxi up there for a fix price & he’d wait for you to be done & drive you back down again. We went with the latter, as buses & shuttles didn’t leave until about 2pm & we wanted to beat the rush.

We got super lucky! There was basically no-one else up there & we got to go on the swing several times! It was absolutely breathtaking scenery! Zac was a little nervous at first but as a childhood swing fiend I happily jumped on & started launching myself out into the air. After a few goes Zac joined me & people were laughing at us hanging upside down from the swing! (Sorry Linley!) They also had a flying fox there, nothing too crazy but it was still a lot of fun. All of this for $1! BARGS.

Views from the tree house in the clouds.

After venturing back down the mountain we headed into town to start looking at tour companies for the many activities Banos has to offer. We were most interested in seeing waterfalls, canyoning, zip lining & bridge jumping. The first company we saw offered a trip out to see Pailin del Diablo - the main waterfall attraction in Banos & one we’d been looking at photos of since the day we started planning this trip! For only $5 it stopped at a few other sights & you also had the option of zip lining too. We got to the zip lining spot & it was only a pretty short one (about 100m or so) whereas the ones I’d read about took you on 6 different lines with the longest being 550m! We decided to save ourselves for the better zip lining & instead went on a ride where you are basically put in a mechanical yoyo & thrust out over a valley, where you roll forwards & backwards, upside down & sideways again & again. It was terrifyingly awesome. Will post a video seperate to this.

We then made our way to Diablo! Again it was only $1 entry to the waterfall. We followed the flowing water gushing down to some very pretty pools of water, to find a wooden bridge leading us down to the waterfall. From the top you could see the whole way down as its quite narrow but boy oh boy, it’s forceful! The water was gushing down heavily & kids were standing underneath the water that was spraying everyone from the edge. We magically managed to stay dry while still getting extremely close to the falls. Now we have left the blog too long because we have been so freaking busy, so instead of going through each days step by step I’ll just cover the main things we did.

We booked Canyoning, zip lining & our bridge swing with Geo Tours. They were so friendly & helpful while still being reasonably priced so we felt comfortable booking everything with them. I’m so, so glad we did now too because the experience was nothing short of amazing. The day before NYE we woke up early to go Canyoning, which I’d never even heard of before we arrived in Ecuador but Zac explained to me was basically various ways of getting down several waterfalls. We met at 9am & piled into a bus. It turned out everyone else in the bus was going white water rafting & we got an unheard of trip with 3 guides completely to ourselves. This meant next to no waiting around for other people. We got out to the sight where we put on our wetsuits, helmets & abseiling gear & our main guide Thomas - who was a hilarious & super fun guy - ran through how we’d tackle each waterfall (all 6 of them) & safety instructions etc. We got to the first waterfall which was sort of medium in size, and because I’d been given the Go Pro to film the whole thing by Zac, Thomas said I should jump off first so I could film Zac coming down. HAHA. Yes, I love being the first to jump from a gushing waterfall into the water below. But surely enough, Thomas counted to 3, & I jumped! It was so exhilarating! The water was beautiful & fresh, the surroundings were the most beautiful I’ve ever seen. To be able to sit under a waterfall & look at the lush greenery around you, branches completely covered in moss, crystal clear water just cold enough to make you feel spritely. Every single second was amazing & we never wanted it to end. Zaccy jumps off & we swam down to the next fall.

There’d been a lot of rain that morning & it was still lightly raining while we were Canyoning, making the waterfalls super heavy. Because this one was so high we zip lined down. First we got into position, then Thomas says “LET GO” and you just do, & go sailing down to the bottom to land in the water. Thomas took a bunch of photos of us & splashed us with water & off we went down to the next one. Some we’d lay down on our backs & just let the water carry us over the edge, some we’d abseil down, to which Zac was a bit bumpy & slid off & bruised his hip quite badly but laughed it off like a good sport. The last waterfall we got to jump off & climb up again & jump off again. Since we were the only ones we had time to swim & muck around. Thomas & the crew then took us to pick up the rafters, & we made our way to a restaurant nearby. The Geo Tours crew are literally just like a bunch of mates, when we are driving they had music cranked & were all singing their hearts out & laughing. It made for a really fun atmosphere. When we got to the restaurant we bought our guides a beer & we sat & ate lunch talking to some other folks & feeling a bit merry by the time we left. (Did I mention the 1L standard beer size?)

The next day was Zip Lining. We set out at 10.30am & drove for about 20 minutes to get to the zip lining area. We got helmets & gloves & made our way up to the first line, which was the shortest, just to get a good feel for what its like. Once we were all attached, we jet off screaming & marvelling at the beautiful jungle below our feet. Again I went first so I could film Zac & because he’s a fraidy cat & likes me to go first so I can look silly first & then he knows what not to do. On the second line we had the option of going Superman style or flipping yourself upside down. I chose the Superman way but Zac surprised me by going upside down! You basically sit down in the strapping but then they flip you upside down & push you away! When I saw him coming down the line I had to rub my eyes in disbelief! It was a very proud moment although he said it wasn’t as enjoyable because you don’t really get to see the view as clearly but he was still glad he went. The views were just astounding. We were way above the canopy of trees & were flying over valleys & waterfalls below. It was so amazing.

We could’ve done it all day. But it was NYE & we were ready to PARTY. The NYE tradition in Banos is all men dress up as women & stop the cars using a rope & ask for money to fund their beers for the night. Also everyone in town makes these amazingly impressive paper mache masks & models, we saw some that were bigger than us of Batman, the Hulk, Clowns. Everything. Zac & I got face painting, I wanted to be David Bowie as a year on & I’m still not completely recovered from his death, & Zac chose Anarchy from V for Vendetta. Then at midnight on every street there is a fire where you throw your mask onto & then jump over it as a way of “cleansing” the bad spirits from the past year from you so you can begin the new year fresh. We’d been drunkenly dancing our hearts out to Wham! in a pub when it struck midnight & ran outside to participate. There were fireworks being let off in every direction & fires everywhere. Definitely a NYE to remember.

Paper mache Batman! I don't know how you can make something like this & then throw it into the fire, but geez! The skill!

Me as Mrs Bowie.

A great shot of us towards the end of the night, I was feeling SPARKLY.

The next day we slept until 12pm & then slept some more. Nothing was achieved, or if full days of movies & sleeping is your cup of tea, EVERYTHING WAS ACHIEVED.

We awoke on our last day & absolutely had to try the thermal springs - where Banos gets its name sake. They sit directly below the waterfall next to our hostel & only cost a couple of dollars each. At about 8am on a fairly brisk morning we entered the gloriously warm pools. The first & biggest is practically lukewarm just to get you adjusted to be able to go into the next, which is HOT. You can only stay in for 5-10 minutes depending on how hydrated/experienced you are. But it felt AMAZING in contrast to the cold air outside. The last pool was the hottest, so hot we got in super briefly & then got out & submerged ourselves in the cold pool which made us squeal. We then went to the waterfall to cool off. Zac climbed up first & said the water felt like hail hitting him because it was so cold & heavy. I decided to give it a try & because it was so cold I ran quickly away from it, causing me to lose my footing & fall on my bum in front of a pool full of laughing people. I proceeded to slide down the slippery rocks & lost a fair amount of flesh on the way down. But bathing under the Banos waterfall was a hilarious experience & one I’d be so sad to have missed. Plus the scarring is sure to make me look bad. ass.

This finally brings us up to our last day in Banos. We walked around the town feeling so happy. We’d done so many crazy things- many of which I never dreamed I’d be capable of doing let alone enjoying! We were happy & fulfilled & spent the last night soaking in the atmosphere of beautiful friendly people, the smell of street food cooking, the beautiful sunset & called it a night.

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