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angrylizardjacket · 3 years

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and i’ll miss you

a run to paradise au | [ p l a y l i s t ]

Summary: Lola’s dad, Leo, lives. A series of conversations between Lola, Leo, and Irene, her mother, throughout her life.

A/N: 15,449 words. @misscharlottelee @local-troubled-writer for putting up with me all through writing this. this is making me so fucking emotional you don’t even know. lola’s parents aren’t shitty i promise!! i will say that lola is manipulative but it’s never for negative or selfish (mostly) reasons, but still thought i should warn you.

----

Lola’s sixteenth birthday present from her parents is tickets to see KISS perform live when they were set to come to town in a few months, seeing as how they were currently her whole family’s favourite band. Well, okay, they were her dad’s and her’s, and her mom liked their music well enough but was never fanatical. However, Irene would hum along and tap her foot as she did the diner’s banking for the night once it had closed, as Lola and Leo blasted their music from the jukebox as they were cleaning up for the night.

“A friend of mine got me the tickets,” Leo was telling Lola, “you know Bill, he’s the guy who always eats his fries with no sauce,” he prompts, and Lola makes a noise of recognition.

“He hasn’t been in for a while,” Lola pointed out; he’d been a regular for as long as she could remember, he was a good friend to her father, and once snuck them onto set for a TV show he was working on at the time, though Lola didn’t recognise the show, her dad was overjoyed.

“’Cos he’s been managing KISS!” Leo’s practically bursting with excitement, acting like a big kid, up to his elbows in dishes with his daughter beside him, drying them. Lola, upon hearing this news, almost screams.

“Sweethearts, please don’t let the neighbours think we’re being murdered,” Irene called out from the counter, though there was the faintest smile in her words, and both Lola and Leo called back an apology.

----

For each day that the concert grows closer, Lola grows more anxious. Her friends, while she enjoys their company and their tastes in music, are far more fond of ABBA, and don’t get why Lola’s so excited about punks in face paint. Lola’s cut out a picture of KISS and sticks in the front of her binder, and one friend wrinkles her nose at it, calls them gross.

Lola likes ABBA. Lola likes all sorts of music, Leo had made sure of that, but it was disheartening that her friends weren’t so open minded. Which is why she can’t ask any of them what to wear to the concert; they don’t go to rock concerts. Her dad’s ‘you’ll look kick ass in anything, Lola’ is well-meaning but unhelpful; he has to say that, he’s her dad! Surprisingly, it’s her mom who saves the day.

“You’re fretting, Keola,” her mother says softly. They’re in the diner, side by side at the counter during a lull; the hiss of Leo cooking from the kitchen, and the hum of music from the jukebox fill the air, but Lola’s twisted the straw in her hands that no matter how she untwists it, it’s mostly unusable, not that she’s noticed, looking at the wall where her parents have put their music memorabilia.

“I’m not fretting,” Lola huffs a little. The concert is in two days and she still doesn’t know what to wear, “mom am I a dork?” And it’s more nervous than Lola had wanted it to sound, even if it had been playing on her mind for almost a week.

Irene’s lips twist into something faintly amused at the phrasing, but her eyes are kind and gentle.

“Sweetheart, you are mine and your father’s child,” she says, “we are both very big dorks.” Lola gives her a look as if to say ‘that’s really not what I wanted to hear right now’, but Irene continues, “but I would also say we’re the coolest people I know; me, your dad, and you, of course.” At least at this, Lola’s expression softens, turning honest and a little forlorn.

“All the outfits I try for Saturday make me look like a dork,” she says quietly, “and my friends think KISS is gross.” She doesn’t intend for it to sound petulant, or whiny, though it comes across like that a little, but thankfully her mother can hear how genuinely sad this all makes her.

“Do you want to borrow something from me?” Irene asks, and Lola gives her a somewhat sceptical look that she’d been expecting; her daughter’s only ever known her as her mom, and as an accountant. Even now, she’s in a smart, black button-down and black slacks, knowing full-well that the dress code at Leo’s is quite casual. “I wasn’t always a grown up, you know,” Irene gives a faint grin, and Lola gives her the benefit of the doubt.

----

“Dad, stop- come on dude, be cool,” Lola insisted as she stepped out of her room on Saturday evening, wearing a band t-shirt of his that he’d leant her, her favourite black jeans with the rip in the knee, Doc Martins that had been a present for her last birthday, and the leather jacket from the back of her mom’s closet.

Leo was tearing up. Irene says his name very softly, her hand on his shoulder, but her expression is understanding. He’s really trying to keep it together, but his expression keeps scrunching up like he can’t quite help himself.

“Is that your jacket?” Leo’s voice is strained, looking to Irene.

“The one I wore to every concert we’ve ever gone to together,” Irene tells him, and Leo wraps her up in a hug, hiding his face from his daughter as to not appear as emotionally overwhelmed as he clearly was.

“I can’t believe we raised the coolest kid in the world,” Leo finally spoke, clearly crying with pride. Irene laughed softly from amid his embrace, and as much as Lola could act embarrassed, she herself was trying to act like she wasn’t getting emotional, “it’s her first concert and she’s already cooler than me.” Leo crowed.

“Dad,” Lola said, trying to sound embarrassed, like she thinks any other teenager would probably be, and not grateful, the way she actually feels, “you’re gonna have to redo your eyeliner.” But she can’t help herself, and joins her parents, if only to hide how emotional the moment was, in the way they wrap her up in a group hug.

And before they leave, Irene sets firm ground rules, to make sure neither of them goes too haywire; above all, Lola is never to leave Leo’s sight, she’s strict about this.

“And Lola,” Irene adds, taking a deep breath, “but if you end up meeting the band, if Bill wants to you and dad to say hi after, I know this seems silly, but please promise me something,” Lola frowns a little at her mother’s intensity, but nods as a prompt, “don’t touch them. Don’t let them touch you. Don’t shake their hands. Don’t leave your father’s side at all. Please,” and she looks to her husband, expression imploring, “Leo please, I know you think I’m overreacting, but please.”

“I promise,” Leo says, as serious as Lola’s ever heard her father, and Irene gives a grateful smile, and wishes them a wonderful night.

----

Lola doesn’t have to ask her father if he can see alright, even as she’s sitting on his shoulders; he towers over most of the crowd, and from this vantage point, Lola feels like the most powerful person in the world... Right before the opening act finishes, and KISS walks on stage.

They know all these songs too well, have been listening to them intently for months, and Lola and Leo belt the lyrics back like their lives depend on it. They mosh together when she climbs off his shoulders.

“Don’t you wanna push through to the stage?” He yells over the music; he’s ready to steamroll through the crowd if Lola asked, but she’s shaking her head, grinning from ear to ear.

“I’d rather hang out back here than for people to start throwing stuff at you because you’re blocking their view,” she points out, before adding, “don’t be weird, dad, I’m doing this for the greater good.” Leo raises his hands in mock surrender, grinning from ear to ear with pride. He doesn’t say that she’s considerate, he doesn’t argue that even if she were at the front of the crowd, he could still stand back and still have her in his sights, he just enjoys the moment, enjoys the fact that his daughter still likes his company.

“You’re a good kid, Keola,” he tells her seriously, as the song is winding down. Lola makes a face at that, but then grins and shouts;

“And whose fault is that?!” With amusement and love in her voice.

She’d had her angry, bitter moments, had cursed him and her mom and the diner and the work she had to do when her friends were out being hooligans, but he was grateful for moments like this, for moments when he knew that deep down, she loved him, and loved her family.

As the night comes to an end with three encore songs, and as everyone’s filing out in a messy stream, a pair of surly-looking security guards cut easily through the crowd to Lola and Leo, telling them that they need to come with them. Lola, terrified that they were going to get reprimanded for how she’d been sitting on her dad’s shoulders and probably blocking people’s view for a third of the show, is glued to her father’s side as he’s trying to make conversation with the now-silent security detail.

But then there’s Bill, former diner regular, current KISS manager, beaming from ear to ear, welcoming them backstage with open arms, wishing Lola a happy birthday, giving a joking apology that the tour was two months too late for her. Lola laughs with relief, and steps apart from her dad as she follows Bill through the theater’s winding corridors to the green room, but Leo’s still got a hand on her shoulder; she’s glad for the contact, not wanting to get lost.

“You sure we’re allowed to be back here,” there’s something strange in her dad’s tone, like he’s trying to imply something that goes over Lola’s head. Bill gives him a knowing, but reassuring look, as he tells Leo that it’s fine, and that the band will be on their best behaviour while they’re there. His gaze flicks to Lola for a moment; she’s confused, what, are they drunk or something? Even at sixteen, and as much of a wild child as her father was - and still kind of is - she’s naive.

Well, okay, the band are already drunk, but at least that seems to be the worst of it.

They’re still in their makeup, though it’s a little smeared, a little sweated-through, but they’re bright and friendly and forthcoming, and seem so grateful when Leo and Lola both babble their praises. Bill introduces them as old friends, as ‘Leo and his daughter, Lola’ with a strange emphasis on daughter that Lola doesn’t catch, but then the band, who’d been watching the two of them, watching Lola talk about how cool it was, how much she loves them, they look at Leo as if seeing him for the first time. He’s bigger even than the security guards, with his hand on Lola’s shoulder, standing close to her; the band are watching him like startled rabbits all of a sudden, and when Lola looks to her father, she sees him levelling a look of warning at the band. The moment he sees Lola looking, however, he grins down at her, and addresses the band.

“Listen, we’re absolutely stoked to get to meet you guys, you fuckin’ kick ass -”

“Kicked. Fucking. Ass!” Lola agrees as punctuation, and the tension in the room eases considerably as they all give a fond chuckle at her enthusiasm.

“You want a beer, man?” Ace Freehly asks, and Leo hesitates, looks to Bill, who nods, and then to Lola, who’s finally looking around the dressing room with wide-eyes.

“Just one,” Leo concedes, and Lola nervously asks if she can look around. She gets permission, and Leo sits on the arm of the sofa that Bill had taken up, asking the band what kind of music they listened to in their spare time.

Lola’s naive, but she’s not an idiot; she’s heard bands sing about how they loved girls who were seventeen, she’s heard gossip about celebrities with young girlfriends, hell, she’s at an age where her friends are talking about ‘fooling around’ and it actually means something. And she’d seen how the some of the band members had looked at her, the way she’d dressed up to fit in, maybe looking a little older than she was - she can hear her mother’s warning in her head, and knows why her father was acting protective. For all that the kids her age might think she’s being too safe, being too childish, her parents have never lead her astray; if they’re working this hard to keep her from the band, there was a good reason, and she’d trust them on that.

They leave in much better spirits than they’d arrived, the tension having defrosted between Leo and the band, but even so, as they’re saying they’re goodbyes, and shaking hands, someone offers Lola his hand, but she hears her mother’s voice and moves on instinct, taking a step back, a step closer to her father, though she’s beaming and waving and thanking them for getting the opportunity to meet them, and see them play, and Leo’s hand wordlessly comes to rest on her shoulder, even as he’s using the other to still shake hands. It’s an unspoken connection between them. An understanding for which Leo is so incredibly grateful.

She’s a good kid.

----

“I hear you’re gonna start helping mom with the finances,” Leo says, tone light as he approaches Lola, squirrelled away in the corner booth that’s unofficially hers, as she pores over her homework.

“All I said was that I was thinking of taking a few of the business subjects as electives,” she says, not looking up, sounding distracted, “and music.” She added, as if to put her father’s heart at ease.

“Business subjects?” Leo asks, sliding into the seat across from her. Lola’s holding her highlighter in her mouth, looking up from what looks like English notes. She nods. Leo is quiet, and folds his hands on the table and gives a look that he hopes is intrigued, or curious, or some sort of non-judgemental prompt for her to explain why.

“Mom’s like a calculator of a person; if you could win at doing taxes, you know mom would win taxes,” she says, sitting back and pulling the highlighter from her mouth to fidget with, “and the only reason you don’t have a Michelin Star is because the inspectors are classist, bitch-ass jagweeds who wouldn’t even make the detour that you’re worth -”

“Lola,” Leo admonished her phrasing with a slight frown, and her scowl deepens as she looks to her father.

“Mom said it first.”

“Your mom did not call the Michelin Star inspectors classist, bitch-ass jagweeds,” he countered with, and Lola huffed, knowing it was the truth.

“She called them classist,” she corrects herself, sinking further into the chair and into her terrible posture, “and the other stuff she said too, just not the bitch-ass jagweed stuff,” she concedes, before sighing, and almost out of view from how badly she’s slouching down in her seat across the table, “but I’m just... here, and sometimes I think about seeing if I could talk to Bill about being a musician because I’m kind of okay at piano and singing and that stuff, and I love music and I think it’d be cool to have a job in the music industry, but every time I think about getting a note wrong while someone’s watching me I feel really sick, and now every time I even think about playing in front of people I start feeling really sick, so I’m trying not to think about being a musician, but I keep having these little ideas for the diner and I think about how one-day I’ll be helping run it, and I don’t wanna do what you guys are doing here, so maybe doing not-finance-business-stuff could be my thing.” She’s laying side-ways on the seat of the booth by the end of her rant, hands beneath head, staring at the gum someone’s put there. When she’d finished her homework, she’ll grab the scraper. Oh god, what other teenager thinks like that? Mom was right, she is a dork... Okay, maybe she should have realised sooner, like when she developed a strong opinion on the Michelin Star inspectors.

“Two things,” Leo says, after a beat of silence; he’s still sitting perfectly still, and his voice is kind, “one; if you want to have a job in music, you don’t have to be on stage, you don’t have to have people looking at you if you don’t want,” and as he speaks, Lola slowly raises herself to a sitting position, “and two; what ideas do you have for the diner, kid? I’ve always said we need a designated ideas man, I think you’d be perfect for it.”

In the end, still helps Irene with the finances, though her mom somehow manages to make it interesting, and Lola will always fondly look back on the night she and her mother had taken a break from working on the coming month’s roster to drink milkshakes.

“You’re his favourite person in the world, Keola, he’d steal the moon if you asked,” Irene spoke fondly of her husband, “and of course you’re my favourite too, sweetheart, but I draw the line at using our entire life savings and mortgaging the diner to buy enough tomatoes to fill the diner -”

“But theoretically,” Lola was trying to hold back her laughter, “if we did, we’d have enough money that we could buy enough tomatoes to fill the diner.”

“You’re greatly underestimating the amount of tomatoes we’d need,” her mother chuckled.

“What if I got a great deal on tomatoes, since we’re buying them in bulk?”

“We’re not -”

“Theoretically!” Lola had crowed, which had dissolved into laughter, while her mother played up her annoyance with a sigh, though she was grinning from ear to ear. As the laughter dies out, and Lola finishes her milkshake, she looks over the draft of the roster, and hums. Irene, intrigued, hums in return, hums a question.

“You should put Parker on the weekend; give him the Friday and Saturday nights, and the Sunday lunch,” Lola muses.

“I thought you said he was annoying? Do you want him cooking out the back?” Irene leans forward, following her daughter’s gaze and frowning at the messy schedule.

“Fuck no -”

“Language.”

“He ignores dad’s ‘no idle talking in the kitchen during the rush’ rule, and when he’s serving when it’s not a rush he won’t shut up about WWE, but, he’s cheerful as hell and works well under pressure, which,” Lola takes the eraser from the table and scrubs off a name, before taking the pen from her mother and writing the same name elsewhere, “is why Candice should be taken off the rush on Saturday since she had a meltdown the last three times she was scheduled then. But she’s really good when it’s slow; she refills stuff, helps with prep, folds napkins into swans, and makes great conversation with customers.”

Irene marvels as her daughter talks through a schedule that would optimise each of the strange and wonderful employees they had, and realises something with startling clarity.

Irene knew how the numbers worked. Leo knew how the food worked. Lola knew how the people worked.

----

“Sweetheart, it’s your second-last Prom, wouldn’t you rather go than spend the night at work with your parents?” Irene asked; Prom night was always a slow one, even for a Friday. Lola gives her mother a strange little smile, tapping her fingers against the counter.

“I’m gonna leave it up to chance,” she said, which confused her mother, who was refilling a napkin despenser.

“Leave what - oh, Candice; I know you worked hard as her campaign manager, but she’d want you there with her, win or lose,” Lola’s parents had been confused but supportive when Lola announced that not only their server, Candice, get nominated for Prom Queen, but that Lola was going to be her campaign manager, despite the fact that Prom Queen nominees didn’t usually have a campaign manager.

Candice, who was flourishing with her new shifts, curtesy of Lola’s scheduling, was more than happy to agree, and the two became fast friends. Lola herself was blossoming with the new task, staying up, excitedly making posters, and writing speeches, and hoarding the phone for hours every night to talk to Candice, and the new friends she seemed to be making. It wasn’t that she was unpopular, it’s just that she was standoffish, quiet, and focused, and took pride in her work, which happened to be at her parents’ diner.

Between the campaign, being in charge of the rosters for the diner, the general work she did around the diner, and her school work, Lola’s life was pretty full, and she was surprisingly happy.

Leo had overheard when Candice had approached Lola after her shift, had pointed out how Lola had scheduled her to work on the night of the Prom, and how Lola had sworn before profusely apologising. Lola had offered to cover the shift, and been quick to reassure Candice that it was okay, that she didn’t need Lola at Prom, that she’d do great and be wonderful and that all the hard work was done; now she just needed to look pretty and win. Candice had wrapped her up in a hug, overflowing with gratitude, assuring Lola that she’d owe her one, and in turn, Lola had brushed her off, saying it was nothing, apologising again for the scheduling mistake.

At the time, Leo’s heart had swelled with love for his daughter, proud of her for sticking to her commitments, and for being so kind and reassuring. On the night of the Prom, he sees Lola looking a little giddy, almost a little nervous, and thinks she might just be worried about Candice. Then, when the diner is at it’s quietest, there’s noise outside, and Lola almost shrieks, much to her parents’ dismay.

“They’re here!”

Through the windows, the little family, and the few other employees see a hoard of well-dressed teenagers, some where crowns and sashes, making their way past the window, lead by Candice in a crown, beaming.

There’s chatter, as the other teenagers realise where they are, saying they love this place, some a little tipsy making grateful noises as they divide themselves into groups and fill over half the diner in an instant. There’s a booth where everyone’s wearing crowns, and Candice leaves them, assures them she’d be back, before she bolts to Lola, who’s practically bouncing with excitement. The girls squeal about how Candice won, and she’s adamant she couldn’t have done it without Lola. Of course, Lola humbly brushes it off, babbles about how proud she is.

It ends up as one of the busiest night they’ve had in months.

Perhaps she’d just wanted to help a friend, maybe she’d worked in some way to bring the Prom to her when she ended up not being able to go; mostly her parents think it’s a fluke.

Until the next year.

Until, amid college applications, scholarship applications, work, and homework, Lola sets her sights on campaigning for their new cashier, Abigail, her classmate.

Until it’s her last Prom, and again Lola’s had to swap shifts with the girl she was campaigning for.

Until her parents hear it again.

“They’re here!”

It’s deja vu, with Abigail in a crown, so overjoyed, and grateful, bring with her even more than had been there when Candice had won.

“Didn’t we come here last year? Fuck, man, this place is the fuckin’ best, we should do this every year!” A boy in a white tuxedo announces to a resounding cheer, and yes, he seems a little bit drunk, but Irene and Leo have paused in their food prep to see Lola turn and look directly at them, upon hearing these words, grinning from ear to ear like it was her plan all along.

Oh.

“We may have raised a super villain,” Leo muses, though he can’t stop himself from sounding a little proud as Lola turns back around to head back out and take more orders from students clamouring for food.

----

“I feel like we should sit you down and talk to you about... something, but I’m not quite sure what,” Leo says, wiping down the tables well past midnight, while Lola was cleaning the windows that somehow had grease stains on them. Irene, from where she was organising the till, where they had received so much so quickly that half the bills had been stuffed in haphazardly, chooses this moment to pipe up.

“Using people is wrong, Keola; Abigail and Candice are your friends, you shouldn’t be using them just to make yourself popular,” she reprimands, to which Leo makes a stern noise of agreement. Lola, however, pauses, sitting on the table.

“Ma, if anything, they’re using me; I’m the reason they both won Prom Queen. I wanted to see if business management was something I’d want to do, and it turns out; yes, and I’m good at it. My two-year plan paid off,” she said simply.

“Two year plan?” Irene asked, baffled, and Lola, two months shy of eighteen, crossed her legs and beckoned her parents over.

It takes some explaining, from the fact that when she realised she might want to do business, that she might want to do business managing, and that she’d been thinking about how Leo had told her she could do work without anyone else realising that it was because of her if she wanted to. So she gave herself a challenge; work with the people she knew, to eventually help the business she cared about, the diner. Of course, this asks more questions than it answers.

So Lola explains that she’d switched Candice onto the shifts she works best in to keep her happy, and spent time getting to know her and being kind and building her confidence until she could casually bring up the idea of Prom, and how Candice would kick ass as Prom Queen, and that she had a shot at it, and that Candice would believe her and follow through, and more importantly, let Lola be her campaign manager. Lola knew how people worked, knew what certain people needed to hear, who to interact with to create the most wave, how to market an individual.

“Also, the scheduling thing wasn’t an accident; Candy and Abby love their jobs, and love this place - which is really a testament to both of you - and love me and the fact that I won them Prom Queen; if I tell them I can’t go to Prom and they win, even if I told them I don’t mind not being there, they’d still kind of feel guilty, and I figured they’d want to come and, I dunno, thank me and show off the crown. They love it here and love you guys, like I said, and it’s something to be proud of,” Lola shrugs, wrinkling her nose a little as she looks at her hands, “but, yanno, one night on it’s own doesn’t make a tradition, so I rinsed and repeated with Abby. Now two years in a row, the Prom Queen has come from here, and after the Prom they’ve come here and had incredible food; the people becoming Juniors and Seniors, the top contenders for Prom Court, remember coming here and having a great time after Prom two years in a row. I’m kind of working towards it being a tradition, it was my two year plan; turn one of the slowest Fridays of the year into one of the busiest.”

“While I’m very grateful you were thinking of us,” Leo says slowly, trying to process all the information he’d just received, “you shouldn’t manipulate your entire high school -”

“Twice,” Irene softly reminded him.

“ - twice, just to help the family business.” Leo had his head in his hands.

“No-one was hurt,” Lola added, “and, bonus, I know there’s already a few kind of superstitious Sophomores who will be coming in and asking for job applications soon,” she paused, “not that we need the help, but raises the diner’s profile a little, don’t you think?”

“You know the diner’s doing fine, we’re not struggling, sweetheart,” Irene still sounded like she couldn’t quite believe all of this.

“I know,” Lola’s voice was quiet, and finally her parents looked at her, saw her looking at her hands where she was fiddling, quiet and pensive.

“Then why, Lola?” Leo asked, finally, and she shrugged, a little helpless, as if she hadn’t spent the past two years carefully manipulating her friends, colleges, and peers, simply to increase business at the diner for two nights, one year apart, hoping it would become tradition going forward.

“I wanted to see if I could.”

Looking at their daughter, Irene and Leo see themselves in how she came to be like this; Leo’s got more love in his body than almost any other human, he’s personable and kind and hard working, while Irene’s smart, driven, and ruthlessly pragmatic. Their differences complimented each other, it’s why they worked so well together in all aspects of their life, and to see how well those traits worked within their daughter, they were certainly proud, but Irene quietly suspects that Leo may have been right.

If Lola didn’t become one of the best managers in her field, she’d end up a super villain... Irene’s actually kind of proud, and honestly, so’s Leo.

----

Going to college for Business Management seems like the most logical thing in the world for Lola to do next, and of course her parents would be happy to pay any costs associated, but it’s still nice to discover she’d received a scholarship, thanks to the glowing reports from several of her teachers, whose subjects she made sure to do well in as they would look good when applying specifically to be a business major.

Leo’s the one who drives with her and her things to her new college housing in New York, to her dorm, who meets her roommate and dorm mother, who hugs her for a full minute in the carpark before he leaves. They’re both pretending like they don’t have tears in their eyes.

Lola’s babbling away, reminding him about how he should start advertising the Prom-related discounts for the diner three weeks before the Prom itself, how he should have his employees who are students put up posters around the school, or at least he should put up posters around the school, and the places where teenagers hang out. She’s reminding him which of their employees work best in different circumstances, and why Belinda can’t work with Judas for more than two hours and -

She’s crying, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hands as she talks, until Leo takes her shoulders firmly, and her voice dies in her throat as she comes back to reality.

“You’re going to be amazing,” he says softly, tears shining in his eyes. Lola’s lip quivers at this, and she surges forwards, wrapping him in another hug as she cries.

“You’re going to be amazing, we’re always just a phone call away, my sweet girl, but I know you’re going to take the world by storm,” Leo mutters into her hair, holding her tightly.

“Be good. Be kind. I love you,” he tells her as they finally step back from each other, and Lola wipes at her eyes again, quiet this time, nodding adamantly, before telling him she loves him too, that she’s so grateful for him, that -

“Come on, dude,” Leo says softly, with a gentle smile, “be cool.” And hearing the words that, for so long, had come to mean ‘I love you, I feel the same, but you need to be strong’, since Lola had first said it back when they’d first seen KISS together, has Lola laughing with fond adoration.

None of the other Freshman moving in, saying goodbye to their parents, appear to be half as emotional as she was, but honestly, she didn’t really care.

----

“Hey, question;” Lola’s voice is hesitant over the phone when Irene picks up one quiet evening in the diner at the end of Spring, at the end of Lola’s second year of college, “would you or dad know how to get in contact with that guy who manages KISS? The old regular? Bill?”

“Why?” Irene asked slowly, a little concerned given how much she and Leo had omitted when they talked about him to Lola when she was younger.

“I wanted to see if he needed an intern for the summer.”

It makes sense, but the prospect still makes Irene nervous.

----

“Leo I’m home~” Bill practically sings as he throws the door open to the diner on a bustling Monday afternoon. The server at the door skitters back in the face of his enthusiasm, and as a few mean-looking individuals slink into the diner behind him. Through them all, however, is Lola, who doesn’t even announce her presence, just slips past Bill, darting through the diner and through the kitchen, so by the time Leo’s looks their way, he’s already being bowled over with a hug.

It was a surprise, and Leo’s yelling he’s so excited. KISS is halfway through their tour, playing Providence the following two nights, but Lola and Bill had dragged the band along to surprise Leo while they were close.

Leo’s babbling away as Lola ties up her hair without even having to ask, stepping up beside him and falling into the routine of helping him prepare food. Bill and the band have taken up residence in a booth, chattering amongst themselves, while Lola and her father work and catch up.

“Wait, Lola, sweetie, go sit, go sit,” Leo insisted, catching himself before he lost sight of the whole situation, “I’m not paying you, go sit with the band; you’re customer -”

“Dad -” Lola tried to protest, but Leo was adamant, nudging her out of the kitchen with determination. As they pass the counter, Leo grabs a note book, and gives the confused server a kind smile, following Lola to the band.

“Vito, what do you recco...” Ace asks glancing up from the menu, but he trails off, seeing her father practically shadowing her.

“You guys remember Leo, right?” Bill looked like he was trying not to laugh as he shoved Peter further into the booth to make room for Lola. The others were all, for what seemed like the first moment on tour, silent. Then, Gene speaks.

“If you’re sick of our fuckin’ shit, Bill, murder us yourself, like a real man,” he says, voice gruff, and Lola has to fight not to smile in the face of her father’s bemusement.

“No-one’s getting murdered; Leo’s has the best food this side of the country, right, Vito?” Bill asks easily, looking to her, and she can feel her father’s questioning gaze on her too, so she looks to the others, smile blinding.

“I know I might seem biased, but I swear I’m not,” she fans her fingers out on the table, leaning forward, eyes shining with sudden enthusiasm, “I know you guys have a weird history with my dad, I wouldn’t bring you here if it wasn’t worth it.” She assures, and slowly but surely, the others look at the menu; her dad’s still watching her carefully, even as she’s sitting back, confidently telling the others that whatever they order would be good.

“Was it you or ‘rene who loved The Godfather?” Bill pipes up, addressing Leo, and Lola, in her seat, goes still.

“It’s ‘rene’s favourite movie,” Leo says with a slowly forming smile, as Lola chances a look up at him. When she sees the amused, even proud look in his eyes, she gives a small smile back.

“Is mom around?” Lola asks, gaze quickly darting to the counter and the kitchen, and then to the nondescript door that led to the second floor where she her family had lived all her life.

“At the grocery store, we ran out of whipping cream,” Leo explains, smile growing wider as he lets himself bask in the moment, “menu hasn’t changed much in the last few months, what are you hungry for, Vito?”

Of course Lola’s right about the food, of course, and the band chatters amongst themselves, and to Leo easily enough, though when Irene gets back, for all that she’s thrilled to see her daughter, she’s less than thrilled to see KISS being obnoxious in one of her booths.

Pulling Lola aside, she speaks quietly, glad to see her, demanding to know if the band treats her with respect, scowling when Lola casually rolls her eyes and says the band doesn’t treat anything with respect.

“But I still live by what you said the first time I saw them,” she added, and Irene frowned, “don’t let ‘em touch me, don’t shake their hands.” And Irene gives a faint smile at that. After a moment, Leo’s warm, booming laughter fills the restaurant, and both women turn to see him throwing his head back, eyes creasing in the corner as the rest of the band seem pleased to have made him laugh.

“They’re gonna give you and dad all access passes to their Wednesday show,” Lola says softly, watching the band, watching her dad sit in the seat she’d vacated.

“Oh, that’s so nice, but you didn’t have to -”

“I didn’t ask them to,” Lola tells her frankly, “they’ve been acting like my dad is some violent asshole whenever I bring him up because he was super protective when they met him the first time, even though they know I love him, so I brought them here, and knew dad was too kind of a person, and too good of a chef, to not win them over. They also definitely didn’t believe me when I said how good his food was, even when Bill backed me up. They’re not exactly introspective people, so when they offer the tickets, they won’t realise it’s because they feel guilty for making me upset whenever I bring up dad, but still, they’re trying to make up for it without realising what they’re doing; they think they’re just being kind to a new friend and a cool dude, without thinking about why giving these tickets feels better than it usually does. Friends are made, you guys get cool tickets, everybody wins,” Lola’s still watching the band joke around with her dad and Bill, and she lets herself smile a little, even as her mother is quietly watching her.

“They aren’t my friends this time, mom, this is business, and if they didn’t want to feel guilty for shittalking a good man, then they shouldn’t have shittalked a good man,” and though her mother says her name with a faintly disapproving tone, Lola’s lips thinned with annoyance, “if you disapproved of me doing this shit, you wouldn’t have told Bill about the Prom scheme I pulled in high school.”

Then Irene says her name again, like an apology, like regret, like she was aware of her betrayal.

“On the plus side,” Lola took a deep breath, grinning and finally looking to her mother, “I’ve already kind of got a reputation; Bill called me Vito the first day I came in, which is how I figured out you’d told him, and someone misheard and thought it was my name. It stuck.”

“They’re calling you Vito?” Her mother said softly, earlier disapproval vanishing with soft glee, “for the record, I said that while I don’t condone some of what you did, I admired your tenacity, perseverance, and finely tuned social awareness.” Okay, that made sense, and something warmed in Lola’s heart hearing that.

“Well thanks to that, I think they’re implying that I’m The Godfather,” Lola snorts, looking back at the table, “well, Bill was, the others don’t actually believe it, but they still use the nickname.”

“You don’t want them to know that that’s... your goal, do you?” Irene said, wrapping an arm around Lola’s shoulders. Lola rests her head against her mother’s.

“I’ll only use my powers for good... usually.”

“I know, sweet girl, you’ve got a good heart.”

----

“I’ve got my own desk! I’ve got my own office!” Lola’s all but squealing over the phone to her parents, explaining about how she’d been offered a job with Bill’s company as a PR consultant while she insisted on staying in New York and finishing her degree.

She’s living with her music-producer boyfriend, spending every other weekend at industry events, spending nights in dingy bars that boasted live music as if she were scouting talent, attempting to study during the day while putting out various bands’ fires from afar.

“That’s wonderful, Lola,” her dad gives a contented little sigh where he and Irene are pressed together, both trying to listen to her speak.

“You’re still studying hard though, aren’t you? I’m glad you’re doing well but you know you’d regret it if you didn’t finish your course so close to the end,” Irene pointed out, and Lola assures her that she’s still going ahead strong, that the company gives her half-days when she has lectures to attend, and she sounds... fulfilled.

They’re still calling her Vito; she’s garnered herself something of a reputation in the months leading up to her graduation, and anticipated full-time employment with the company. People from all sides are urging her to move out to LA, but she’s refusing to budge until she graduates, and for that her parents are proud.

Back home, there’s been a strange influx of out-of-town patrons to the diner, music fans, or bands, or part of the industry, usually New York based, saying that Lola had recommended this place, if they were ever in the area. It was heart-warming to think she still thought of her parents so often that she’d still go about recommending their diner. They don’t think much beyond it; she’d been true to her word and only seemed to be using her way with people in professional matters.

But still, it was jarring hearing ‘the Godfather sent me’ when chatting with customers, even moreso to know they meant Lola every time.

----

“One of Bill’s friends in LA called me up about a job,” Lola’s fretting in her parent’s diner for the first time in a long time. A year out of college, she’s been on the road essentially since graduation, working as an assistant manager, for Bill for some time, then for Kenny Laguna with Joan Jett & The Blackhearts, and a few smaller bands around New York as a manager in her own right, though by virtue of her role as an assistant, she’d been working with everyone in the industry that he usually had dealings with, setting up meetings, organising schedules for the band, setting everything up so all her bosses had to do was sign off and only worry about the bands themselves.

Lola had her fair share of flings in that time, but it was hard when she was always travelling, and even with the people who she seemed somewhat serious about, she never brought them home to meet her family. Her parents tried to reason that she was just young, that if she wanted to find love, she’d find it in time, but thankfully she seemed more concerned with her career than ever dwelling on heartbreak.

“That’s exciting; would we know the band?” Irene asked, printing off a receipt for a customer and wishing them a good day. The customer smiled back, and went on their way, and Irene joined her daughter, stealing one of Lola’s fries.

“Not really, they’re a little metal, kinda punk band, Motley Crue, but Doc - that’s Bill’s friend - he thinks they have potential, and he thinks I’d be the right person to help him, and help them.”

“As an assistant?” Irene asked, frown creasing her brow, and Lola makes a face.

“As co-manager,” she said, clearly in two minds about the situation.

“Co-manager?” Her mother prompted, and Lola wrinkled her nose for a moment, taking a sip of her drink.

“I’ve been on tour, all over America, right? But I’ve never...” she hesitates, “actually ever lived more than two hours away from you guys.” Lola fidgeted, “which I know is a dumb reason to not move, I’m an adult, and everyone’s pushing me to move to LA, so even if it falls through I’ll probably still get work, but -”

“Sweet girl, you don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with, you don’t have to explain yourself, not to me, not to anyone,” her mother says, reaching out to rest a hand on Lola’s cheek. For just a moment, Lola leans into her mother’s hand, taking the familiar comfort and basking in it, letting out a gentle sigh.

“They’re flying me out in two days to meet the band, and I can decide where to go from there,” she says softly, and Irene gives her a fond pet, assuring her that nothing is set in stone.

----

“Do you remember when I did that thing in high school, that whole thing with those girls, Abigail and... Candice? I think? How I managed them and got them voted Prom Queen?”

“Lola I love you with my whole heart, but sweet girl, you had a whole supervillain monologue prepared that night, so yes, I remember,” Leo says to his daughter, the two of them in the kitchen of the diner the night before Lola’s set to leave for LA. They’ve closed up for the night, and Irene went upstairs to their little home above the diner to relax for the night while Lola stayed, and Leo refilled the salt shakers. The corner of Lola’s lips quirk into a faint smile where she’s leaning her hip against the counter a few feet away.

“I still can’t believe no-one caught on; only you and mom had any idea, or even still know,” Lola admitted with a faint laugh, and Leo assures her that he’ll take that secret to his grave, his tone amused at how he was overstating the importance of the secret. Lola considers for a moment, shifting her weight on her feet before asking, “do you remember, even before that, saying about how I understood people the way you understood flavours, the way mom understood numbers?”

“Vaguely,” Leo’s voice was concentrated as he reflected on his daughter’s teen years in the diner. Lola made a faint hum at that.

“Do you think there’s ever going to be anyone other than you and mom who understands me?”

It hits Leo like a truck, the tone, the rawness to her voice, the way so much had suddenly clicked into place with understanding.

Lola was who she was because she was listened to, because Leo and Irene had worked to make sure she felt understood, showing by example as they befriended their customers, the people around them too, to build a kind, family atmosphere in their business too. So too did Lola, going through life listening to people, getting to know them, understanding them, understanding more and more as she went that while people loved feeling understood, feeling seen, they very rarely put in the effort to understand others in such a way, even people who were putting the effort into them.

“Oh Keola,” Leo’s voice comes out an apologetic breath as he puts down the salt shaker he’d been working with, and at that, he can see the tears spring up in Lola’s eyes. Without hesitation, he’s crossing to her, wrapping her up in a firm hug, “you will find someone who sees you, Keola, who understands you, and maybe they won’t understand the world as well as you do, but it won’t matter, because they’ll understand you.”

Lola, who’s hugging him back tightly, fingers digging into him as she’s shaking, crying, scared to leave, scared to be truly on her own. It’s breaking Leo’s heart to see her like this, to not know what to say or how to comfort her in the right way, so he holds his daughter close, and reassures her, and she gives a quiet thanks, muffled against his shirt.

----

“They live like horrible, little, drunk rats and I hate them,” Lola tells her mother flatly over the phone from the hotel Doc McGhee’s company had put her up in for the week.

Doc she liked well enough, she’d been to events with him, gotten to know him, and spoken extensively to him after he’d called her to ask if she’d co-manage Motley Crue with him; he’d called her up because the band had talent and potential, but he could see that if they weren’t managed properly, they would end up as their own worst enemy, with the whole world loathing them. Some controversy was healthy, but it felt as though this band could be capable of worse.

He’d called asking for Vito, for the Godfather specifically, and despite Lola’s apparent lack of experience in the industry, he knew what he was doing when he called her.

The day after she’d flown out, she’d had a meeting with Doc before he’d brought the band in. She’d worn all black, well fitted and perfectly tailored suit, with black shirt to match, hair perfectly straight and makeup dark but clean. She’d looked the part, had stood beside Doc as the band was brought in, her hands clasped behind her back, not sure what she was expecting to see. The band had been dressed down for the most-part, all in varying dark colours, all denim and hints of leather, and boots that made them a little too tall for her liking. She’d held out her hand across the desk, expression stony, and as they’d all shook her hands, they’d looked her over, and while some were leering, one, who looked to be the oldest of the group, Mick, seemed unimpressed.

“That’s a child,” he had said, and Lola had blinked slowly at him, allowing Doc to make the introductions.

“That is Vito Fields;” Doc corrects, tone firm, and Mick, upon hearing this, looks to her very suddenly. Lola raises a single eyebrow at him as Doc keeps talking, “she’s worked with KISS and Joan Jett; anyone in this industry who knows of Vito knows you want her in your corner, you boys are lucky she’s considering working with you.”

“She seems like a bitch,” the one in the middle, Nikki, pipes up, his pupils wide and shiny, a dead giveaway that he’s high, and he’s smirking at her like he’s waiting for a reaction.

“I am a bitch,” Lola tells him flatly, looking him dead in the eyes, while the younger two on his other side, one dark haired, Tommy, and one blonde, Vince, startled by her response, break out into giggles.

“You’re Magic Touch Vito?” Mick asks, voice having taken on a strange quality she couldn’t quite identify, though her lips quirk into the barest smile, even as the other three clutch at each other, trying to muffle their laughs at their own dirty-minded implications.

“The very same,” Lola gave a slight nod, and suddenly, there was something impressed in Mick’s eyes. After touring with them, KISS had kindly written a song entitled Magic Touch, about Lola, which as the line ‘she's got the magic touch / oh no, but it ain't what it seems’ implied, wasn’t sexual in nature. In actual fact, it was about how they hadn’t realised how much she’d worked to make their lives run smoothly, to keep them from any serious controversy, how they’d seemingly worked more cohesively and agreeably when she had been around, until she was gone. When asked who it was about, the band would always answer ‘the chick from our management team last tour, Vito’.

They don’t quite know what to make of her, think she’s too uptight, too serious, and they invite her to their gig the following night, in an attempt to see if she could loosen up, fit in, and Lola accepts easily, knowing she has Mick on her side, and that the other three should be easy enough to win over, if what she knows of them is correct.

So she dresses up for the show, clothes tight and dark and revealing, boots high and hair higher, makeup dark and smoky and eye catching; if nothing else, she looks the part. She sits by the bar, nurses a single beer all night, and at least Doc wasn’t kidding about their talent; small miracles, she supposes. They’re loud and energetic and everything about rock and roll that she has come to love, but once the gig is over, they’re messy, spilling off the stage after their gear is packed up, easily distracted by pretty girls and promises of booze. Mick is the first to the bar, and seems surprised to see her dressed the way she is, fitting in so easily, and she gives him a smile, a nod, a raised glass of appreciation, before someone stumbles from the crowd and almost runs straight into her, bracing themselves on the bar either side of her, sweaty and panting and grinning and babbling apologies - Tommy, if her memory serves her well.

“Hey, Doc was right, you guys play well,” she tells him amicably, tone much sweeter and more animated than he’d heard yesterday, so it takes him a few moments to place where he knows her from before it dawns on him. And he’s drunk and tactile, his hands on her arms, her thighs, her face, as if making sure she was real, and she was the same girl from yesterday.

“Vito?” Tommy asks, still only inches from her where he’d almost bowled into her. Lola, seemingly unphased by the proximity, smile and confirms as much, her hand coming to rest on his where he was braced against her thigh, gentle contact, nothing more.

And he’s telling her she’d gotta come back to the after party, at the Motley House as he called it, and he turned, wanting to call the others over, still with his hand on her thigh, but they’re lost in their own various states of debauchery. Lola buys him a few shots for good measure, which he’s grateful for, and lets him loop his arm around her shoulders as they head back to the Motley House with the crowd.

Another pretty girl, however, calls Tommy away with promises Lola definitely won’t make, so he goes, and Lola follows the crowd back to the house with the door nailed shut. Her fishnets catch on something as she’s climbing through the window and they rip, and a guy hoots appreciate from inside the house, but she’s not bothered by him as much as she is by the house itself as she takes in the scene.

“No shame in admitting you can’t hack it,” a voice in her ear mutters, accompanied by a hand on her hip, and for a moment Lola’s composure breaks as she’s startled, turning sharply to see Nikki Sixx, standing over her in his platform boots and stupidly tall hair, wearing a grin that’s all teeth. Lola doesn’t know enough about Nikki to read him, to understand him, apart from the fact that she recognises that he’d putting up something of a front, and had been both times he’d spoken to her.

“I find your lack of faith disturbing,” tone cool as she finds herself quoting Star Wars with a smirk, she looks Nikki in the eyes, and is glad to see the momentary flicker of confusion as she refuses to back down despite his goading. Then, she looks over her shoulder, “you live like rats, but that’s not necessarily a complaint since it fits with your brand.” And he doesn’t seem to know if that’s a compliment or an insult, but he’s left bemused by the encounter, as Lola heads through to the kitchen, avoiding making eye contact with Vince who’s getting head from a groupie on the counter, as she takes a beer from their fridge and goes to mill about in the main room.

Lola’s never been much of a drinker; Irene’s been sober since she was pregnant with Lola, and Leo only ever drank socially outside of work, and he didn’t exactly have a lot of social encounters outside of work to begin with. Lola herself was never particularly discouraged from drinking as long as she took care of herself, and sure she had some wild nights in college, but despite her field of work, she preferred to keep drinking to a minimum. Drinking dulled her senses, and she didn’t want the people she was working with to see her as anything less than what she wanted to show them.

She’d be the first to admit that she had issues with control, both of herself and other people, but it was yet to detrimentally effect her life, or the people around her, so she found it to be more of a strength than a flaw, at least for now.

All through the night she found herself talking to fans and groupies, talking up the band, the boys, putting on a bubbly persona, perhaps overplaying her own inebriation after only two drinks, giggling and making a spot for herself amongst their groupies. She declined the drugs as they were passed around, keeping her mind clear as she was able, while not being a buzzkill, pouting and making up excuses about a drug test at her work the next morning, how she’d only just gotten the coke out of her system and she couldn’t fail another one -

Everyone was so understanding of her fake sob story, she almost misses Mick, sitting a few feet away on the arm of the sofa, laughing to himself, watching her.

“You’re good, girlie, you’re good,” he gives her when she approaches, and Lola raises an eyebrow at him, still smiling, “you planning on outright fuckin’ our frontman, or you gonna tease him like you did the drummer?”

“If I have to fuck him, I’ll fuck him,” Lola shrugs with a smirk, joining him and looking out at the gathered crowd, “but I don’t think it’ll come to that.”

So the next day when she calls her mother, tells her mother that the band lives like rats and that she hates them, she immediately follows it up with ‘but I think I’m going to stay’.

----

Be sweet to Tommy. Be honest with Mick. Keep Vince’s revolving door of girlfriends from seeing him hook up with groupies. That’s the trick to keeping three quarters of the band happy.

Nikki changes from moment to moment it seems. He’s a hard worker musically, but a loose canon in the rest of his life, and he never seems to be sure of what to make of Lola, so she can never be sure of what to make of him.

She still lives loosely by her mother’s suggestion, to never let them touch her, which means she’s never done anything more than let the three younger ones cop a feel occasionally, or kiss them on the cheek, but she’s never let them get further than that, she doesn’t need to. She’s kind to them, good to them, she compliments their music and their work ethic when they’re working particularly hard. She remembers the names of the hookers they like when Zutaut brings them in, and she gets on well with the rest of their team. Their scandals are kept out of the papers, and when they release Too Fast For Love there’s buzz in the industry from the moment it drops.

“I know a guy,” is all Lola says when they ask, when in reality she spends nights that she’s not with the band going to VIP events for music executives, rubbing elbows and kissing ass and casually talking up the band within earshot of the bigwigs. Her free time in the day is spent reading tabloids and listening to the bands being managed by the people she meets, and making friends with club owners up and down The Strip who she’d met before, through KISS or Joan Jett.

“Sweet baby Vito,” Doug Weston kissed Lola on both cheeks as she walked through the doors of the Troubadour one sunny afternoon, the day the band was set to perform, “it’s been too long; have you gotten taller?” Doug smiles from ear to ear, holding her shoulders and looking her over as the band, behind her, seems bemused, “how are my boys, Bill and Kenny? You hear from them much anymore?”

“Dad tells me Bill is good -” Lola assures with a smile, before looking over her shoulder, “boys if you wanna start setting up you can go ahead, right Doug?” She grins at the club owner, who nods, gesturing to the stage for Motley and their roadie to go ahead as he takes Lola and leads her to the bar.

Lola seems to have an encyclopaedic knowledge of the bands who have come through the Troubadour before they’d made it big, praising Doug on his foresight, assuring him that Motley would be one of the names on that list he helped grow in popularity. He asks her how she knows so much, how she remembers so well; simply put, Lola tells him it’s her job.

For a moment, Doug is quiet, looking at her, his eyes searching her face for any hint of insincerity or doubt, and upon finding none, he gives a strange little smile.

“You know what they say about me, little Vito, don’t you?”

Lola hesitates, because of course she knows, and him so pointedly using her nickname only makes clearer his meaning.

“You’re essentially the Godfather around here, Doug, I know that, I wasn’t trying to -”

“You’re putting the work in; I’ve heard your name time and again now from my friends and colleagues, you’re working with one band but the whole Strip knows you, kiddo,” he’s giving her a fond, perhaps even impressed look, “little Vito, you’re so young, but I can already see you growing into your title.”

And pride swells in Lola’s chest as she hears this.

A week later, a tabloid article will be released with an article on Motley Crue’s quick rise in sucess, with a quote from Doug himself.

“How could I say no to having them play here? Those boys have got more talent in one hand than any do in their whole bodies, not to mention they’ve got Doc and The Godfather behind them; mark my words there’s success on their horizon.”

“Lola!” Leo had shouted excitedly through the phone the moment she’d picked up, and Lola had laughed nervously, unsure of the exactly reason for his call. Leo had babbled about seeing the article, how he’d pinned it up on the wall of the diner, right next to the photos of KISS, and Joan Jett that had been taken when they’d visited. He goes on in delight about how he and Irene were so proud; Lola couldn’t help but tear up.

“Doug Weston called you The Godfather, Lola!”

“I know, dad,” Lola had laughed a little, and Leo had whistled through his teeth, low and proud.

“What did I tell you, kiddo, already taking the world by storm.”

----

“You know how I was... I was like having trouble with Nikki? Like I could figure him out?” Lola brings up over the phone to her father, a few month into being in LA.

“Nikki’s the asshole one?”

“The asshole one, the one you’d like,” Lola clarifies and confirms, and Leo makes an understanding noise in the back of his throat, “I think... I think I’ve figured him out, I think I got him.”

“How so?”

“He, um,” Lola hesitates for a moment, shifting a little where she was sitting on her bed, “he’s actually kind of like me, which I think tripped me up, not like, as refined or anything, or as invested in people, but,” she can’t help but softly smile, “he just wants to be seen, you know, as a musician, as himself, except that things have been shitty for him so he’s actually scared to feel seen, you know?”

“So are you going to make him feel seen, or would that scare him?” Leo asks, and Lola tells him that she’s going to be careful, like she’s always been.

She’s already started; a few days before, she’d turned up to the studio only for a beleaguered assistant to nervously warn her that Nikki had been in there all night, drinking, snorting, and writing music frantically.

“Sixx?” Her voice had been quiet, and he’d looked up with wild, tired eyes, levelling a pen at her through the glass into the sound booth where she’d entered.

“You!”

“Me?” She gave a slight smile, despite how there was paper and broken glass everywhere, and one of his hands was bleeding.

“You!” He’d reiterated with a scowl, though Lola kept her approach slow, opening the door to the recording studio, carefully picking her way over to him, while he continued to point at her.

“What are you writing?” She asks carefully, and finally he looks down, to the page with it’s bloody fingerprints, and messy scribblings.

“What do you want from me?” He asked, and she’s wondering if he’s talking to the page before he looks back at her, confused and hostile as he regards her. Lola’s expression falls.

“Right now? I want you to come to the bathroom so I can clean you up and get you some medical attention -”

“You want something you always want something, you know too much about everyone we meet, everywhere we play, every photographer who shoots us, every writer who writes about us, every interviewer we speak to,” he sounds half-mad, but Lola’s blood has run cold, “it’s like the more you know about everyone, about us, you can predict us, can plan for if we go rogue, how you can lasso us back in line like we’re your cattle; you’re The Godfather but you never explained to us what that means.”

Lola swallows hard, steeling herself for a moment before she looks Nikki in the eyes.

“What do you want from music?” She’s dropped the kindly voice, “you understand it, you understand how to make it sound good, how to make something people will like and want to listen to, and you know what to do to keep it from being a disaster because you know the note before, and what notes should go after,” she explained, and in the face of her cool composure, Nikki’s hostility was actually... disappearing. “To me, people are their own kind of music when organised well enough, when I know where they’ve been, so I know how to keep them out of disaster, which topics not to talk about, to know what’s worked to bring things to their attention in the past, so I can use those for you guys in the future.”

Nikki is quiet, looking up at where she’s standing over him, and then at the paper in his hands.

“You’re organising us to... to what?”

“To optimise productivity,” Lola said bluntly, “which is hard, considering who you all are, but I’m glad Doc called me in. I feed your egos in the way you all respond to best, and keep you all from self destructing, and I pull you assholes from the gutter, and you get a successful album. I’m not hurting anyone, it’s my job to make you successful.”

She’s got her hands behind her back to hide how they’re shaking; she’s never been so bluntly honest with anyone since she’d explained her Prom Plan to her parents years ago.

“You won’t remember this,” she tells him, and he looks sharply at her, though she’s saying it more for her own peace of mind than for him. She offers her hand to him, and he quietly takes it, lets her take him to the bathroom and clean him up. She calls the Motley House, and Mick, and Doc, and lets them know that Nikki wouldn’t be in today, and she takes him back to her little apartment a few blocks from the Strip.

“This is tiny,” Nikki comments, his first since Lola’s monologue about her true intentions.

“I’m frugal,” Lola responded, flatly, showing him through to her bathroom, advising him to shower or bathe, though he made a face at that.

“Why am I here?”

“Because I have actual toilet paper and I didn’t want your hands to contract sepsis,” she responds with irritation, but soon enough, as she’s reading through the stack of tabloids that she has delivered daily, she hears the shower being turned on.

After an hour, she realises something may be wrong, as she hasn’t heard him moving about in there for a while, and when she knocks there’s no answer, and cracking the door reveals that he’s fallen asleep sitting at the bottom of her shower. Sighing deeply, Lola turns off the water, tries to wake him, and gets a sleepy, groaned response, which at the very least means she doesn’t need to call a paramedic. So she dries him off, and wraps him up in her bathrobe, and deposits him in her bed, while she listens to the radio and takes notes while reading the tabloids.

“Vito?” Nikki’s bleary voice greets her around sunset, and Lola, who’d been painting her nails and humming along to a cassette of the latest Queen album, looks up sharply at him. When their gazes meet, he regards her curiously before yawning, “I remember, you know?”

“Remember what?”

“What you said, how you use people because they’re like music,” he says, and grimaces when he tries to use his hands, only to see they’re bandaged. When he asks for a drink, Lola has to tell him she has nothing in the apartment, and he calls her a bitch under his breath, but that was to be expected.

“I don’t use people for fun, I... I...”

“There’s no sweet way to say it, is there?” He sits up with a groan, though he still manages to smirk, and Lola’s expression sours.

“Are you mad at me for manipulating people in the industry to make Motley Crue successful?” Her lip curled, tone derisive as an insult sat on the tip of her tongue, but Nikki paused.

“Are you trying to manipulate me by saying that?”

“What? No!” Lola had insisted, “everyone else thinks I’m the version of me that I want them to know, okay? But you... you’re the only motherfucker who knows I’m all of them at once, and also, well, none of them,” she admitted after a moment.

“Well how does me knowing that help you?”

“It doesn’t, okay?! I can’t figure you out, Nikki, I don’t know how the fuck to -”

“How the fuck to control me,” Nikki said, seemingly proud of that achievement.

“I don’t control you dumbasses, I keep you out of jail; if I wanted to control you, I’d try keeping you from hookers and drugs and falling asleep in gutters, I’d make you presentable for a mass-market audience, but none of you want that, so I’m trying to keep you alive and keep you productive while still being yourselves, get it?”

“You really want Motley to do well?” Nikki asks, tentatively, surprising Lola, who had her head in her hands.

“You fuckin’ dickbags have so much talent and absolutely no ability to function as human beings. Yes I want you to do well, I know you can, and I know you will, but dude, if you all go out in a firey ball of carnage, they’re not gonna blame you guys, because you’re the talent, live fast die young is what talent does, and they’re not gonna blame Doc,” her voice catches in her throat, and Nikki realises she’s on the verge of tears, “they’re gonna blame the twenty-three year old girl who everyone in the industry knows, and is calling The Godfather, who has a reputation despite only doing this shit for a few years -”

“Vito -”

“My name’s Lola!” She’d snapped, and Nikki had gone quiet. “You’re a talented musician, Nikki,” her voice had gone soft, and she gently thumped her forehead on the table, “you’re all talented men, I’m just doing the only thing I can do to get you the success you deserve, okay? I made a promise to never manipulate people for evil, and I don’t break my promises.”

After a long silence, Nikki finally spoke up, saying her name, her real name.

“Lola, thanks for taking care of me.”

----

“So this is Motley Crue,” Leo says the day Lola walks into the diner with the band and Doc, and Leo’s trying to reign in his instinct to be excited and proud and loud, trying to act discerning from behind the counter... Right as their Too Fast For Love album begins playing over the jukebox. The band seems confused, Lola hangs her head, and Leo’s lips immediately twist into an overjoyed grin, “that wasn’t planned but I love it!” He delights, and goes over to greet the band, giving each member a hearty handshake, managing to name each and every single one of them before they introduce themselves, which only serves to mortify Lola.

“You talk about us?” Tommy teases, while Lola’s standing by her father, face bright red.

“Drummer Boy, you’re killing me,” Lola groans, but takes her seat beside Nikki, and he throws an arm around her.

“Don’t worry, Leo, we’re taking care of her,” and he gives Lola’s shoulder a squeeze.

The thing is, Leo knows he can believe Nikki, knows because after a year, Lola’s told her parents practically everything about the band, every terrible, sordid detail, but also about their talent, and how they can be good people when they want to be. Leo and Irene have hear the change in the way Lola spoke about the band, heard Lola marvel at the way the band seemed to grow more protective of her after her breakdown in front of Nikki, how they defend her when they’re in their right mind, and at least attempt to listen to her some of the time. They’re still themselves, still far from perfect, but it’s become a known fact that The Godfather had the might of Motley Crue behind her now.

Mick and Leo got along well, of course Leo got along with all the band well, but he and Mick’s taste in music aligned, and there was a certain wisdom to the pair of them that eluded the others.

And when Lola hands tickets to the band’s show the following night to her mother, she assured her that it wasn’t their idea, it was all Lola’s. Irene wraps her in a tight hug, pride in her eyes, before she looks over at the band, louging in a booth like they own it while the diner was meant to have closed twenty minutes ago, and Leo’s still talking to them. It’s empty apart from the band, and Lola’s about to start washing up so her dad can keep getting to know the band, but her mother speaks quietly.

“They’re good boys,” she muses, and Lola snorts.

“They’re garbage boys, ma, pretty terrible, you know they fucked an eggroll so their girlfriends couldn’t tell they slept with other girls?”

“Oh I know they’re terrible - eggroll, really? -” Irene made a momentarily horrified face as Lola confirmed, but as a shiver of disgust passed down Irene’s spine, she continued, “but they’re good to you.”

And looking at them, Lola sees the band and Doc smiling and laughing and chatting with her dad, picking at the crumbs they had left of the food they’d been served, and for a moment, Nikki looks over and catches her gaze. He raises an eyebrow at her, a silent question; Lola gives the barest nod back, and he turns back to the conversation.

“They’re pretty good to me when they want to be,” Lola agreed.

----

“Lo, we wanted to run this past you first,” immediately hearing these words from her father, Lola’s stomach drops, “but you remember your Aunt Malia who lives back in Hawaii, right?” And as Lola confirmed as much, Leo went on, “her youngest, Kai, is going to come and live at the diner; he’s about your age and Malia says he’s wanted to be a chef for a long time. I thought he could come work with us, or maybe stay here if he wanted to study in the states.”

“Why do you need to run it past me?” Lola asked, voice quiet, though her heart eased considerably; the news had been much less dire than she had been anticipating.

“He’s going to be sleeping in your old room is all, I know you’ve moved everything out, but I didn’t want you to be surprised if you dropped in; when you stop by, we’ve converted the old study into a spare bedroom.”

“Okay,” Lola wasn’t quite sure why the news hurt so much, but it did, though she tried not to let her father hear as much, “as long as he does a good job, that’s all we can ask for, right?” And Leo seemed happy to hear as much.

But it had sent Lola spiralling; all her life she’d thought she’d end up running the diner when she got old enough, but now she was getting to be old enough, and living a completely different life.

“Would it make you happy?” When had coming to Nikki Sixx for life advice become a real option? They’re sitting in a round booth at a bar, both dressed casually, sitting side by side, probably closer than was necessary, though Lola liked the contact.

“Yes,” she admitted, “if I went home and ran the diner with mom and dad for the rest of my life, I’d honestly be happy.” She admitted.

“And us, the industry, everything you’ve been working for, you’d give it all up for them?” He asked, and Lola picked at the label on her beer bottle, stomach twisting with guilt.

“If they asked,” came her answer.

“Did they ask?”

Lola swallows hard, and realises with startling clarity that Nikki knows where her train of thought is headed.

“Does the life you have here make you happy?” He asks, tone demanding an honest answer, and Lola nods once, before his final question hits her squarely in the chest; “would they want you to give up this happiness you’ve built, the experiences you’re still yet to have, for them?”

He understands her.

“And if I asked, would you stay here and manage us?”

“What?” Lola’s voice came out soft and surprised as she looked to Nikki, her eyes wide, and a little misty with all the emotions and thoughts blurring together in her mind.

“If I get any sort of say or vote in this, I’d like to keep The Godfather on my team,” he muses, grin getting a little wider, tone a little more honest, “‘d like to keep you around, Lola.”

----

Kai vaults the counter the first time Lola walks into the diner after he arrives. It’s been a few months, Lola’s been overseas with the band, but she’s back, and had wanted to stop in home to see how he was going. They’d spoken often; he’s as kind and outgoing as her father, and seems just as enthusiastic about food, which is good. At first there had been jealousy, that he was there, while she couldn’t be, but her parents always assured her there was a place for her if she wanted it, if she wanted to come back.

But Nikki had been right, they wanted her to see the world, so long as she knew they’d always be there for her to come home to.

But it’s Summer, Saturday afternoon, and Kai looks up as the bell rings, spots Lola, and drops the napkin dispenser he’d been refilling, vaulting the counter to sweep her off her feet in a hug. He’s chattering away about how good it is to meet her, how people keep saying the Godfather sent them and how it’s weird knowing they mean her, about how a few more bands had come through, without Lola even, word of mouth having spread that this was the place to come to in Boston, and he gestures proudly to the wall of photographs, and how more had been added; Areosmith, the Pixies, Blondie.

“And you! You’re -” suddenly spotting the person who’d come in behind Lola, Kai’s eyes go wide and his words stop for a moment.

“Nikki Sixx, man, good to meet you,” Nikki grins brightly, “Kai, right?” And Kai nods, before blinking away his shock and nodding, shaking Nikki’s hand vigerously.

“Good to meet you, dude, lemme go get Aunty; Leo’s at the markets,” he says, and then he trots off, calling out to the kitchen staff where he was headed. The moment he’s disappeared up the stairs to the flat above, Lola leans into Nikki, huffing a laugh.

“God, he fits right in,” she muses fondly, and Nikki wraps an arm around her, himself trying to process Kai’s enthusiasm.

And Irene greets Nikki and Lola with warmth and excitement, the three of them sitting in a booth together while Kai goes through any changes to the menu, lighting up when Lola asks what he recommends. Nikki and Lola sit close as they chatter away, recounting stories to Irene about their travels, words flowing together like they were rehearsed; as Lola’s overcome with a fit of giggles recounting one of Nikki and Tommy’s stunts, Nikki wraps his arm around her, pulling her close as he seamlessly takes over the story, grinning from ear to ear. As Lola’s giggles subside, she looks back to her mother, and Nikki’s voice goes quiet as Lola takes back over telling the story, instinctually in sync, and oh, Irene realises fondly, they understand each other. Despite everything she’s heard about the band, about Nikki, she’s filled with an indescribably sense of calm knowing Nikki made Lola this happy, made her feel understood. She’d be here if he broke Lola’s heart, but until then, she’d be happy for them.

“Lola!” It’s Leo’s voice that interupts them, and instinctively Irene reminds him that he’s holding eggs, without even needing to look at him. When they all do, they see Kai handing Leo an empty, plastic fries basket for him to drop in surprise instead, and he does so, which makes Lola laugh, even though she’s tearing up at the sight of him.

Nikki relaxes his grip on her shoulders without her needing to ask, and she ran to Leo, jumping to wrap him in a koala hug as he anticipated as much, holding her tight.

“If you guys ever wanted her back here to stay, you know she’d be more than happy to do it, I don’t know how you guys did it, but she loves you more than anything else in the whole world,” Nikki says quietly to Irene, the pair of them watching Lola and Leo, still hugging, with Lola koala-ed onto her father, talking to each other.

“She’s lucky to have Leo,” Irene said softly, “and so am I,” she admits easily, with a smile, “we both just wanted to give her the world, and if that, for her, means taking over the diner, then she’ll always have a place here, but if she wants more than that, if for her the world is the world, we’ll do everything in our power to help her get it,” she paused, before her smile turns amused; the expression looks so much like Lola’s, “but I suspect she doesn’t need our help with that.”

“And Nikki,” Irene turns to him, to look him in the eyes, and he knows that she knows every terrible thing Lola knows about him, but the thing is, he trusts Lola, and Lola loves and trusts her parents more than anything in the world, so if she’s trusted them with his dirty laundry and they still treat him kindly, he knows he has nothing to fear, “as long as you love her and treat her well, you’ll have us in your corner too.”

----

In 2005, it seems as though everyone in the entertainment industry knows about Boston’s famous Lionheart Diner, renamed in the mid-90s to coincide with the official forming of Lionheart Talent Management in LA, a label that would develop a reputation for finding talented underground acts, and making them huge.

Over the years, it had become a tradition for touring rock groups to visit the diner, claiming The Godfather sent them, even if Lola had never interacted with the band. As time wore on, bands outside of the rock genre caught on to the tradition, and soon even those from film or television or even art had joined the tradition too.

The business was booming, it had become a spot for tourists to come take photos against the wall of famous band photos, and people would often stop by on the off chance that someone famous would be around. They’d invested in selling shirts, plain black with the Lionheart logo over the left breast, and the word ‘crew’ printed in all capitals in white across the back.

The heart of the business remained, with Leo, seventy-one and still spry, as Sous Chef, while Kai had stepped up as head chef. One of the benefits of being part-owned by a successful management company was that Irene was able to retire, as Lola’s in-house accountants took care of the diner’s finances, and her little sixty-nine year-old mother could spend her time relaxing, or playing with her grandchildren.

In 2005, Lola went home in anticipation of a letter she hoped her parents would be receiving, taking Nikki, their son, and her entire rolodex of industry contacts with her.

In 2005, Lola and her family are awoken by a legitimate yell sounding through the little flat above the diner; it’s Leo, he’s excited and nervous and panicking, and Lola’s rubbing sleep from her eyes as she finds him, alongside her mother, sitting at the kitchen table, looking at a pristine, off-white envelope.

“We should wait for Kai, we have to call him, we have to call him now,” Leo’s chattering away, already up, and when Lola sits at the table, Irene hands her the bulky envelope before she even has to ask.

The return address was the Michelin Offices in Paris.

Lola’s smile grows wider.

The kitchen is eerily silent, apart from Lola’s son Mal moving about the kitchen, making himself cereal, as all the adults wait quietly for Kai to arrive with his own wife and baby daughters.

“I heard they were... were coming to America, but I thought it was only New York,” Leo looked so much younger for his nervous excitement, and once Kai had sat down and realised what it was, Lola pushed the envelope towards her father.

With shaking hands, Leo opens the letter, he and Kai reading the congratulations that had been sent to them, the praise for their food, their plating, their atmosphere and service. Leo’s crying, his hand pressed to his mouth, he’s crying, and Lola can feel the tears in her eyes too.

“They gave us two stars,” he chokes out, pride in his voice, “two whole Michelin Stars, the only restaurant outside of New York,” he’s sniffling as he lets Kai take the letter, pulling the book from the package, thumbing through it, and bursting into tears, the book in a white-knuckled grip as a lifetime of work is finally granted the recognition it deserved.

“Two stars; excellent cooking, worth a detour,” Kai was crying too, his pride overwhelming him, and it seemed, all other at the table, aside from Nikki, and Kai’s wife Julia.

Lola spends the next week organising a party, calling everyone and anyone to invite them to Leo’s, promising her father the night off to celebrate, but he waved her off, so long as she would work by his side for the night. Of course she agreed.

It was a star-studded event, surprising the locals, with Lola calling her contacts who loved the restaurant, and Leo and Irene and Kai calling old regulars they wanted to celebrate with, everyone who heard the news was delighted, knew it was well earned, and cheered as Leo unveiled the new sign with the Michelin Stars on full display.

“Thirty years ago,” Lola makes a toast, and the room falls silent, all looking at her on this night of mirth and merry, on this night of celebrating Leo and Irene and their family and their staff, “I claimed that the Michelin Star Inspectors were classicist, bitch-ass jagweeds, who hadn’t given the diner a star because they couldn’t even be bothered making the detour it was worth,” and that got a laugh to rise from the crowd, while Leo’s surprised Lola remembers that, hell, he’s surprised he remembers that, “but they’ve finally come to America; they said they were coming to New York, but you know what- you know fucking what? They made the detour! Because they’d heard this place was worth it! They knew what my parents built, what everyone here still upholds, it’s world class, it’s excellent cooking, it’s worth the detour!” And a cheer rises from the crowd, just as the diner deserves.

But something about it sticks for Leo, something about it is familiar, perhaps it’s just the way Lola’s smiling, but he asks for a word with her, and she agrees easily. She’s not his little girl anymore, neither of them as young as they once were, but they sit on the back step of the diner, the door shut, the celebrations inside muffled.

After a long while, Leo looks to Lola and gives her a fond little smile.

“I’ve really raised a supervillain, haven’t I?” And Lola acts confused for all of two minutes before she gives up the ruse, grinning like she’d been caught red-handed.

“Hey, if this place didn’t deserve any Michelin Stars, it wouldn’t get any; I just wanted to get the word out there so people would know where to look,” she shrugged, and Leo threw an arm around her, pressing a kiss to her temple.

“How long were you planning this?”

“That day in the diner when we talked about my future, and I said this place deserved a Michelin Star,” she admitted, and Leo’s eyes went wide, realising just why she’d remembered that day so well during her speech.

“Your thirty year plan?”

“I didn’t know when they’d come to America, honestly I think you guys would have still had enough notoriety to warrant someone coming to check this place out fifteen years ago,” she mused, “but like I said, it’s because this is a good diner, dad, I only brought it to their attention.”

“Lola, this is you life -” he tried with concern, though Lola rested her head on his shoulder, cutting him off with reassurances.

“I love my job, I love the life that I have, and the people in it, and it just so happened that the thing that I’m good at and do professionally means I have some influence; I promised I’d only use my powers for good, and this is the good-est thing I could think of,” she ducks her head, to hide her teary eyes, so glad that finally her family, her father, got their deserved recognition.

“All for your lil’ old family,” Leo gave a watery chuckle, overwhelmed with pride.

“All for my lil’ old family,” Lola agreed, sniffling, and Leo pulled her into a tight hug, so Lola’s next words were muffled against his chest, “come on, dude, be cool.”

“You made the whole world love us because how much you love us, I will not be cool,” Leo held her tighter, and Lola laughed softly, wanting this moment to last forever if it could, “you were never a supervillain, sweet girl, you’ve always been my hero.”

#rtp #nikki sixx #nikki x lola #tommy lee #mick mars #Doc McGhee #vince neil #kiss band #the angry lizard writes

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euphoria-svt · 4 years

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Hesitate [Part 3 of Be Alright]

A/N: Long overdue but I’m finally done with my thesis so yay for that! This last part is inspired by Hesitate by Jonas Brothers because I had the idea right after I went for their concert I still miss them so much wow my pcd is horrible. Anyways I hope you enjoy this one!

On a totally different note, I hope everyone is doing okay in their isolations! It’s not an easy time for the world right now but I hope there is something we can look forward to soon. Always remember to check in with loved ones and my ask/inbox is always open if you need a friend to talk to. Stay healthy and safe, my loves ❤️

————————————————————

Be Alright [Part 1] | Back to You [Part 2]

Word count: 2.4k

Being on the road was not as easy as Connor thought it would be. The more days he spent working and travelling, the lesser time he had on his phone. The first few months, he tried to check up on you almost every day. Although it consists a lot of saying ‘hey’ and getting a proper reply hours later because of the time zone, he made sure to send you updates and sometimes little snippets of the work he was doing.

You were proud of him. Extremely proud. You were happy that Connor got to live his dreams, get the exposure he was getting while working for Shawn and visiting beautiful places that he would never expect to go to.

But when the Asian leg of the tour kicked in, it became harder for the both of you catch up via Facetime and texts became less frequent. When it was morning for you, Connor was already fast asleep and vice versa.

And you didn’t mind it. You couldn’t keep depending on your best friend who was on the other end of the world. It was just a few months left until he would be back with you, Mike and Sam at UCLA and that was the one thing you would look forward to.

xxx

Connor was in the middle of editing a video backstage, a few hours before the concert started. The past few days has been rough on him and his sleeping schedule was screwed up.

He admits; the past few months have been such an opportunity for him but with a job this big meant the risk that comes along with it was big as well. He needed to follow certain schedules by Andrew, get things done on time, go around backstage filming for their ‘behind the scenes’, adjust his body clock to totally different time zones.

He was really looking forward to head back to LA and spending time with his family, his friends, and especially you. Connor hasn’t spoken to you in over 2 weeks and he felt guilty that he keeps forgetting to send you a text before he’s piled with his work.

Connor shuts his laptop after saving his work and picked up his phone. Checking the world clock to confirm that he wouldn’t be bothering you when he called, he then switched to Facetime.

When you didn’t answer his call, he wanted to send you a text instead just to let you know that he hasn’t been dead for the past 2 weeks. As he opened your chat, he noticed the ‘last seen’ under your name was 3 days ago. Connor became anxious. You weren’t really the type of person to not check your chats daily.

“Hello?”

“Mike?” Connor sighed in relief when his best friend answered “Hey man, how are you?”

“Same old same old, Brash” He chuckled “Why are you calling me? Aren’t you usually working right now?”

“I was but then I realized I haven’t spoken to y/n in a while and I felt bad” Connor admitted “I called her but she didn’t answer and her Whatsapp said she’s been MIA for 3 days. Have you seen her recently?”

When Mike remained silent, Connor grew more and more nervous. He knew there was something that he didn’t know.

“Mike?”

“She didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?” Connor asked; feeling an uneasy feeling in his stomach “Mike, did something happen? Is she okay?”

“Nothing happened to her, Con” Mike reassured; already feeling that his friend was on the edge of freaking out even more “Con, her grandma passed away a few days ago”

And that, made Connor feel like the worst best friend in the whole world.

“I thought she told you, man…” Mike said with guilt “She headed back home last week because her mom said her grandma was in a critical condition and she wanted to be there for her in case anything happened”

“And you haven’t heard from her since?” Connor asked.

“She told Laila that she wasn’t going to classes for a couple of weeks” He answered “None of us has heard anything from her”

“Why didn’t she tell me?” Connor frowned “I’ve been here, totally oblivious to how she is doing when I should be there with her. I should be comforting her the way she was there for me when I was at my lowest”

“Con, you know this isn’t your fault” Mike insisted “Look, she understands that your job is pretty big right now and if she dropped the news on you, you’re going to want to come home when she knows you can get in trouble for it”

“I can’t sit here, Mike” He shook his head “You know damn well that I can’t continue with my job knowing that she needs me more than ever right now”

“I gotta go… I have to sort things out with my boss”

“Connor,” Mike sighed before Connor could hang up “Just… Don’t get in too much trouble, okay?”

“I don’t know, Mike” He muttered in return “But I guess I’d have to take the risk”

xxx

“No”

“What do you mean no?” Connor gawked. Shawn, who sat next to Andrew, shifted uncomfortably because he knew this was going to end bad.

Andrew sighs as he looks away from his laptop “Connor, look buddy, I get that it’s a difficult thing for you to not be there for her… But I cannot allow you to fly home when we need you around”

“Andrew, we have enough footages!” He reasoned back “Please, man. I just need to go home for a couple of days to make sure she’s fine”

“You signed a contract” Andrew said sternly “That said you would be working unless something happens to an immediate family. Since it’s not you grandma, I can’t let you leave”

“Andrew-,”

“No buts” He cut Connor off “I don’t want to hear it, Connor. A deal is a deal. We made an agreement that you signed to not go against. I can’t do anything about it”

Without another word, Andrew got up from his chair and left the room, leaving Connor angrier than ever.

“Connor” Shawn snapped him out of his thoughts “Go,”

“What?” Connor asked confusingly, looking over at his friend.

“I’ll handle Andrew” He assured “Go home. Take the week off and meet us in Australia, okay?”

“He’s going to be pissed” Connor stated.

“He’s being unreasonable” Shawn shrugged “Listen, I’ve heard you go on and on about this girl of yours so she must be really special. If she needs you, go be there for her”

“Thank you, man” He sighed in relief “Just… Thank you for letting me do this”

xxx

It was a day of long flights for Connor and his body was drained. He sent you a few texts last night but as predicted, the grey ticks didn’t turn to blue ticks.

With his little luggage, he dragged it behind him up to your driveway where 2 cars were parked, which meant you and your mom were home.

It took a few seconds after he rang the doorbell to hear footsteps approaching. When the door opens and your mom saw Connor standing before her, she was taken aback.

“Connor,” She said in a surprised tone.

“Hi Mrs. y/l/n” He greeted politely “Can I come in?”

“Yeah honey, of course” She answered and moved aside. Once they were in, she asked “What are you doing here? I thought you weren’t coming back until December?”

“I was” Connor nodded “But I also heard what happened”

Your mom could only nod understandingly “She told you?”

“Actually, no” Connor frowned “Found out from Mike but I’m really sorry for your loss. How have you been holding up?”

“I’m alright, honey, thank you” She smiled softly “It’s been a difficult time for us but we know she’s in a better place now”

“I’m more worried for y/n right now” Your mom continued. Connor could see the bags under her eyes and how strained she sounded “It took a toll on us but she’s taking a longer time to process it all”

“Do you mind if I see her?”

“Not at all, Connor” She replied “I know she’s always saying she doesn’t need to depend on anyone but we both know she relies on you a lot and right now, she needs you more than ever”

“I rely on her just as much” Connor chuckled softly “It’s the least I can do for her as well”

xxx

Connor knocks thrice on the door and waited for a response. He waited for another minute before knocking again but still didn’t get an answer. When he found the door was unlocked, he pushed it open; only to be met with a dark room.

Your bed was messy, curtains drawn and the only light entering the room was from the street lights outside. He watched you at your balcony; back facing him with your headphones on, which explained why you didn’t respond.

He slowly walked over to the balcony and stepped out of the room. He didn’t know how he could get your attention without scaring you too much so he rested his hand on your head.

You were startled when you felt something on your head and your heart starting beating faster. You slowly looked up and saw Connor instead, you let out a sigh of relief.

“Con?” You asked with wide eyes as you proceed to take off your headphones “What are you doing here?”

“Hey,” He greeted softly and slide down on the floor next to you “What? No hug?” He asked in a teasing voice.

You rolled your eyes playfully but leaned forward to give him a hug. Connor wraps his arms around you protectively and let you bury your head in the crook of his neck “Mike told me what happened” He said softly “I’m so sorry, sweets”

He hears your shaky breath and felt the tears on his neck. He rubs your back comfortingly, running his hand in an up and down motion “Hey,” He cooed “Let it all out, sweets”

“I just miss her, Con” You sniffled “I miss her so much”

“I know, baby” Connor pressed a kiss to your head “And I’m so sorry she’s not here anymore but she is always going to be looking out for you; no matter what”

There was nothing else he could do except let you cry it out while he holds you.

Out of everyone he knows, you were one of the strongest people he has met. To see you in a fragile state like this broke him. He wished nothing more to take your pain away. He’d take the pain for you if he could.

“You didn’t have to come back home just for me, Con” A few minutes later, you spoke softly.

He pushed you away a little so he could look at you and wiped away your tears “Of course I had to” Connor insisted “You’re my best friend and I would never hesitate for you, ever”

“Did you get in trouble with your work for it?” You frowned.

When he avoided your gaze, you sighed “Connor…”

“Look, don’t worry about it, okay?” Connor insisted “I’ll work through it when the time comes. The important thing is that I need to make sure that you’re okay”

You leaned your head against his shoulder ��Thank you” You said softly “For being here with me”

Connor intertwines your finger and brings your hand up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss on the back of your hand “You’ve been there for me through my lows. Let me take care of you now”

xxx

It’s a few days later and Connor was dreading to leave you once again.

“Connor, I’m going to be fine” You reassured him as you both stood near the gates at the airport “Go, dofus” You chuckled softly “You’ll miss your flight”

“That’s a good thing, right?” He asked “I can tell Shawn I missed it and I’ll just have to stay”

“Connor,” You gave him a pointed look “You can’t avoid work forever. Go. I’ll be fine”

“100%?” He asked, biting his lower lips in hesitance.

“110%” You smiled “Now give me a hug and get your ass out of here”

“Bossy”

“Thank you for checking up on me” You muttered against his shoulder “I’ll see you in a month, right?”

“A month” He nods, wrapping his arms around you “Promise me you’ll eat and sleep regularly?”

“Yes, mother” You rolled your eyes playfully and pulled away “Call me when you land”

Connor waves to you one last time before he headed towards the gate. Every step he takes, the more he felt reluctant to leave you. He spun around and saw you in the same spot; watching him.

Connor sighs. Guess it’s now or never.

He rushes towards you, noticing your expression changed to confused.

“Did you forget something?” You asked once he was near to you.

“Can I just do something now that I may or may not regret?” Connor asked nervously.

You raised an eyebrow “That depends. Wait, what are you-,” Connor interrupts you by bringing his hands up to face, and pressing his lips against yours.

It felt like a split second to you. Saying goodbye to Connor, watching him run back to you, him kissing you, you kissing him back.

It felt like there was no one else around you and the world stopped working.

Connor takes a deep breath after he pulls away moments later and rests his forehead against yours with his eyes closed.

“Uhh… Well…That was…”

“If you say awkward, I’m going forget this ever happened and move to Japan” Connor threatened.

You let out a chuckle and shook your head. Your arms wrapped around his neck; fingers playing with the ends of his hair “Unexpected, that’s all” You answered.

“Felt like if I left you again without kissing you… I’ll never really tell you how I feel about us”

“Wow, hey there, Brashier. Don’t get ahead of yourself” You joked “You haven’t even taken me out on a date so there really isn’t an ‘us’ right now”

Connor rolls his eyes playfully “I’ll take you on all the dates when I get back”

“Deal… But for now, I’ll see you in month, okay?”

“It’s going to be the longest month ever”

————————————————————

Please reblog or leave a comment! ❤️

x rina

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#connor brashier #connor brashier imagines #connor brashier fic

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kalypsichor · 4 years

Text

oh darling [ beatles x reader ]

summary: backstage on the England leg of your tour, you meet the four Liverpool boys of your dreams

prompt: can i request a reader who’s a musician/singer and a big beatles fan so they sing their favorite songs at a concert (my peronal faves are “honey pie”, “oh, darling!” or “for no one”, but you can choose!) and the boys were secretly there!! the boys meet them after the show and the reader just loses it?? maybe some romance?? warnings: too much backstory, badly researched 60s slang

i’m fudging the timeline around so that in this fic oh! darling was released in the early 60s instead of in abbey road and reader is meeting them in the mid 60s. reader is american and I incorporated some romance but left it open-ended. more notes at the end!

masterlist

This is what you love most about touring. A thousand faces shining with the glow of the stage in dark concert halls; the satisfying dig of guitar strings into your fingertips; each inhale of breath that rushes into your lungs and is converted to notes ringing with clarity, clashing with dissonance; and the raw electricity of it all.

As the last chord of the song fades into the air, you allow yourself a giddy, adrenaline-fueled smile. The crowd roars and stomps their feet and you can feel the ground vibrating underneath your feet. It takes a while to get them to quiet down, and when they finally do, you lean in towards the mic.

“I’d like to thank y’all again for coming to tonight’s show!” Cue more screaming. “We’re going to close out with a song by a band you probably haven’t heard of— very underground, very obscure, you know. One of your lot. This is Oh! Darling.”

The crowd erupts into more cheers and you allow yourself to reminisce about the first time you’d heard this song on the radio. A few years younger and without a nickel to your name, your band had been just a hobby during the off-seasons of school. In the sweltering New Orleans summer, crammed into a friend’s garage, you wrote and played songs inspired by the local rhythm and blues so popular at the time. It was all just for your own enjoyment, of course— you didn’t think that anyone outside of Louisiana would like your kind of music. But you loved the slow grinding tempos and the strong backbeats that were so fun to dance to, even if you and your bandmates were the only ones who’d ever sing or dance to them.

Until, of course, you changed a radio station one day and suddenly heard that very same rhythm and blues from some internationally known band called The Beatles. “Well,” you said, turning to your bandmates, “if some pasty English boys can play it on the radio, why can’t we?” So the band began booking gigs at local bars, then theaters, then across the world as its popularity grew. All the while, you fell in love with the English band, buying every new record and learning your favorites on guitar.

And here you were on tour in Britain years later, living a dream you could barely believe. A giddy smile spreads across your face as you realize the enormity of being here at all, thousands of miles away from home and singing the song that started it all. Your fingers pluck the familiar strings and you feel yourself settle into a nostalgic beat.

Oh! Darling, please believe me I’ll never do you no harm…

When it’s over and you take your last bow, sweat beads your face and neck and you want nothing more than a cold shower and a bottle of champagne. The din of cheers and claps follows you into the wings of the stage where your manager waits with an odd smile on her face.

“Some people here to see you,” she says. You grab a cup of water from one of the assistants and down it like, well, water.

“I thought we weren’t letting fans backstage today.”

“Yes, but these aren’t the usual fans. They’re… you have to see for yourself.”

You set down the glass, already wishing you were in bed. “Look, Grace, I’m sorry but it’s just not a good time. I don’t care if it’s the Kennedy’s or Jesus Christ himself, tell them to come back later.”

“It’s been said that we’re bigger than Jesus, y’know.”

If you turned your head any faster you would’ve gotten whiplash. That familiar Scouse accent that you’ve only heard in records and interviews… but there was no way it was—

“John Lennon?” It’s your drummer, Thomas, who speaks. “You’re John Lennon. God, that’s unreal. I’m talking to John fucking Lennon.”

“Oh, don’t mind us, we’re just backdrop,” grumbles one of the other three. He’s got dark, intense eyes under heavy brows and a mop of hair. This is George Harrison in the flesh and blood, and he would seem very serious if it weren’t for his toothy, almost canine grin. You feel a thrill race down your spine from the almost predatory look that he gives you.

Kate, the bassist, peers over your shoulder. “Y’all are a lot shorter in person,” she comments. Then, quietly to you, “Close your mouth, honey. You’re catching flies out here.”

You really hope you’re not drooling. It’s no big deal, right? Except that your idols are standing right in front of your eyes, mop-tops and all. You suddenly become hyper-aware of how your hair is plastered to your face and yet somehow also sticking up in eighty different directions. Why didn’t you use more product? More importantly, why haven’t you said a single word yet? They must think you’re some kind of idiot. Okay, do something before it becomes awkward. A handshake! A handshake is good.

You stick out a trembling hand. “Hi,” you say, voice breathy and high like some kind of schoolgirl with a crush.

Too late, you realize that there’s no way all four of them can shake your hand, idiot, and you’ve already come up with four different ways to fake your own death and never speak to anyone again when Paul McCartney (Paul! Freaking! McCartney!) takes your palm with a gentle but steady grasp. He brings it to his lips in a mock bow, eyes peering up under fluttering eyelashes.

“M’lady.”

(Is this what cardiac arrest feels like?)

“Down, boy!” John pats the back of the bassist’s head, smirking, and before you can mourn the loss of his touch they’ve begun bickering like an old married couple.

A different hand takes yours. Thick, calloused fingers. Cold metal rings press into your skin. “Don’t mind them, they’re children. I’m Ringo.” And here was Ringo Starr with the signature grin. Something about his sweet, wide smile makes you relax instinctively. He’s just human, like you. They all are. Underneath the fame and fortune, you’re all just messy humans with a love for music. And with that realization, you let yourself settle back into your usual self.

“They’re not so bad,” you say. “I’ve seen worse. At least they’re potty trained, right?”

This gets an adorable laugh from him as well as George, the latter of which had been talking to Kate about guitars until now.

“Great job up there, by the way.” You blush at the compliment and George goes on, “Those are some wicked brilliant riffs! You’ve got to show them to me sometime.”

“What, and let you steal our band’s secrets? You’ll have to try a little harder than that, mister.”

The three of you fall into an easy banter, mostly gushing about each others’ musicianship. Eventually, John and Paul break their fight, realizing that they’re no longer the center of attention.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” John says a little breathlessly, still laughing from something Paul said. You try not to notice how pink his cheeks are or the way his hair falls perfectly into his eyes from the toustling. “Say, why don’t we take this somewhere with a booth and at least three pints of alcohol?”

“There’s a pub two blocks down,” Paul chimes in, “and they always let us take the back door. The fans can get crazy, y’know.”

Pru, the other lead vocalist, swings an arm around your shoulder and answers before you can. “Sounds boss. I’m ready to split if you are, mop-tops.”

They look confusedly at one another and you huff, elbowing her in the ribs. “What she means is that we’d be delighted to go. Right, Pru?”

She scoffs something along the lines of stuffy Brits but nods. With that, the two bands begin making their way to the exits, melding into one raucous group of overlapping conversations. Before you can make it there, however, your manager grabs you by the arm and looks you in the eye with a steely glare.

“I better not being seeing your face in the papers tomorrow.”

You roll your eyes. “Okay, Mom.”

“And be back at the hotel before three! You’ve all got interviews in the morning and I do not want another situation like Toronto on my hands. You hear me?”

“That reporter was a sexist pig and I meant what I said. Also, I wasn’t that hungover!”

“Don’t worry, ma’am,” George pipes up, “We’ll get her back in one piece. Maybe two, if we’re unlucky.”

You pat Grace’s hand and her glare softens. “Alright, get outta my sight.” She waves a hand and walks off, already rattling off instructions a mile a minute at some poor intern.

“Is yours like that too?” you ask, looking after Grace fondly as she picks up a costume rack without slowing down. If the terrified look on the intern’s face is any indication, she’s still berating him to high hell.

“Honestly,” George replies, “I think all managers are. Mum away from home, y’know. Eppy’s always right and it’s annoying as hell.”

You share a knowing smile before surging on to catch up with the group already at the door. John’s at the lead. Elbowing your way through, you make your way to his side.

“It’s a side entrance so it shouldn’t be too bad,” he says, pushing on the handle.

Immediately, a barrage of sound smacks you in the face hard enough to do a double-take. Apparently, you and every other person in London knew about the side entrance because you’re met with a sea of clamoring fans. Heads turn toward the opened door in a mesmerizing, horrifying ripple of motion. Someone mutters a heartfelt fuck under their breath. It’s probably you.

“There she is!” a girl screams.

“I love you! I LOVE YOU!”

“Is that the Beatles?”

“MARRY ME PAUL! I WANT YOUR BABIES!”

Amidst the chaos, someone intertwines their fingers in yours. It’s John. He looks down at you with a boyish grin and, not for the first time, you lose a bit of yourself in his gaze. The other three boys share the same wild glint in their eyes. He leans close until his lips brush your ear and for a moment you let yourself believe that you’re alone with him and nobody else.

“This is the part where we run, darling.”

And so you do.

notes: because i’m horny for music history, i spent way too much time researching oh! darling’s musical composition. the song is heavily influenced by new orleans rhythm and blues as well as louisiana swamp blues, music styles originating from african-americans/creoles/cajuns in the 50s (read more about it here!). so in my mind, reader is of the same ethnic background as the music she creates, but you’re free to interpret it however you want!

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yeontanismypresident · 5 years

Text

BTS Reaction: They Meet Their Newborn

a/n: I apologize for Namjoon, Taehyung, and Jungkook’s being so short. I was having trouble coming up with the right words and scenes, but hopefully you still enjoy it hsdj.

Seokjin

“Yah! You imbeciles get back here!” Jin yelled as he chased the maknae line around the dorm living room. While he had gone to the bathroom, the three youngest put random spices in his food.

Jimin cackled, hiding behind the couch, “You’ll never catch us!” He squealed as Jin rounded the furniture, rushing to grab a hold of him. Just as Jin’s fingers were about to grasp his shirt, Jimin ran down the hall and hid in a random room.

“Come and get us hyung~” Taehyung and Jungkook chanted in sync before they escaped into the hallway as well. Jin huffed, mumbling to himself and going after them.

Your voice held confusion when you spoke, “Uhh, Jimin? What the hell are you doing?” Jimin turned quickly, taking in the scene that was in front of him. Seeing you on Jin’s bed, he froze, realizing he was in his hyung’s bedroom.

“Uhh, hiding from Jin?” he said unsure. When all you did was raise an eyebrow at him, he stated more confidently, “We put all kinds of spices in his food, so he’s trying to capture us now.” All you did was hum, and then went back to the book you were reading.

Feeling his gaze still on you, you sighed, not taking your eyes off the page, “Yes, you can stay in here Jiminie.” He said a quiet thank you, then sat down next to you, pulling out his phone. He could hear the screams and laughter of Taehyung and Jungkook as they continued to run from Jin.

“So what are you reading?” Jimin questioned you, getting bored of switching through the same apps. If Jin wasn’t chasing them anymore he would have left, but he could still hear the wild footsteps outside the room.

Right as you were going to answer, a wave of pain washed over you. Jimin looked up from his phone when he heard you gasp for air. When he saw you holding your lower abdomen, he freaked out.

“Oh my god! Y/n are you okay? What hurts?” he frantically asked you, placing his hands on your shoulders.

You gritted your teeth, taking in a deep breath and got out, “Just a contraction. God, it hurts like a bitch.” He observed as your hands clenched the bed sheets, face turning red.

“Y/n, how far apart are they?” Jimin asked you, knowing if they were frequent he should tell his hyung.

As soon as the contraction ended, you stated, “Every six minutes...” His eyes widened, shocked with your words.

“Y/n-ah! You need to tell Jin hyung!” he exclaimed, standing from the bed.

You grabbed his wrist, stopping him from leaving, “No. He doesn’t need to know. It’s fine, really. I don’t need to go yet.” Your voice was shaking, nerves coursing through your veins.

“What do you mean? You need to leave when they’re five minutes apart!” he got out of your grasp, heading out of the room to find Jin. Walking into the living room, he saw Taehyung and Jungkook pouting on the couch. Jimin tilted his head, wondering where the eldest was.

Right as he was about to ask, Jin came up behind him and grabbed him in a headlock, “Ha! Got you! You little pabo!” Jimin tried to escape his member’s arms, but had no luck. Jin started to drag him over to the other two youngest men.

“Jin hyung! Stop, let me go!” Jimin continued to fail in leaving the older’s grip. Jin just laughed, throwing him beside his friends.

When Jimin attempted to stand, Jin held him down, “Now, here’s what’s gonna happen. You three are going to clean the dorm, while I watch and make sure you do it. That’s your punishment for ruining my precious food.”

“Hyu-” Jimin tried once more to warn him the problem, but Jin wasn’t having it.

Jin pouted playfully, “No, I mean it Jimin-ah. How could you guys do that to me?” The other two makneas watched in curiosity as Jimin rolled his eyes and stood up.

“Hyung! Y/n’s contractions are six minutes apart!” Jimin finally huffed out before falling onto the couch.

Jin’s eyes widened, before he paled, “What? Why didn’t you tell me that!” As Jin rushed to his bedroom, Jimin yelled out a ‘that’s what I was trying to do! Jeez..’

Slamming the door open, he saw you sitting with your eyes screwed shut. He hurried over to you, wrapping an arm around your waist. He helped you up from the bed, walking towards the door.

“Where are you taking me Jin?” you wondered, allowing him to lead you to the living room. The rest of the BTS members were already there, coming when they had heard Jimin’s yelling.

He grabbed your hospital bag, telling you, “I’m taking you to the hospital.” When you heard him say those words, you broke from his grasp. He turned to look at you, confused on your actions.

“No. I’m not going,” you fiercely said, backing away from him. You whimpered as another contraction came.

Jin held you up, his voice frantic as he tried to get you to listen to him, “Yah, c’mon Y/n, we have to go. Your contractions aren’t far apart. We don’t have time to waste.” Once it passed, you, once again, escaped his embrace

“I-I can’t Jin, I can’t go. I’m s-scared. I’m not ready to be a mom,” you whispered, your fear showing through your voice.

His eyes softened and he reassured you, “Hey, baby, you’re going to be the best mom ever. I’ll be there with you through it all, I promise. Okay?” Seeing you hesitantly nod your head, he smiled at you, “Now, let’s go bring our little girl into the world, hmm?”

Ten hours later, you did just that. You were laying on the hospital bed, completely exhausted, but smiling at the little bundle in your arms. Jin was leaning over you, landing a gentle kiss on your lips, before softly kissing your daughter’s head.

Yoongi

Yoongi kept checking his phone to see if you had messaged him yet, wanting to make sure you were alright. He was currently on tour in Japan while you were stuck in Seoul by yourself. Sure, you had his mom with you, but he was still beating himself up for not being able to be there as well. You were 38 weeks pregnant and ready to pop any minute. He had talked to management to see if he could take a break from this tour, but they gave him a hard no. Telling him how he couldn’t let army down, but if he was being honest, he would rather let them down than to make you, his wife, go through labor alone.

Hoseok’s voice tore him from his worries, “Yoongi hyung, it’s your turn to get makeup done.” Yoongi just hummed, glancing back down to his phone, eyebrows creasing when there was still no message from you.

“Yoongi-ah, she’ll text you if something happens, but right now we need to get ready,” Jin placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it one gentle squeeze. He sighed, before standing up from his place on the couch. He walked over to the stylist, sitting down and looking back to his phone.

Everyone around him watched just stare at his messages between you, his knee bouncing up and down. No one blamed him for being so anxious, anyone would be if they were in his place. They all knew he felt incredibly terrible, scared he would miss the birth of his son. Yet, every person in that room knew that wouldn’t be the case. If anything did happen, he would be on the next plane to Seoul, taking the two hour flight home no matter what.

Once the BTS members all had their makeup done and outfits on, they got ready to go on stage. The screams and fan chants could be heard from backstage, and the sounds somewhat calmed Yoongi’s nerves. It always made a smile appear on his face, and today was no different. Just as they were about to head on stage, one of the stylists came running towards them. They were all confused when she stopped next to Yoongi, only realizing what was happening when she spoke.

“Yoongi-ssi! Your mom called, Y/n is heading to the hospital,” the stylist’s voice cracked a few times from how breathless she was from running. Yoongi just stared at her with wide eyes, not knowing what to do.

Thankfully, Namjoon knew exactly what to do, “Hyung, go. We’ll explain to management what happened later. But right, Y/n needs you, so go.”

Yoongi didn’t need to be told twice, for he ran to the room where their stuff was. After he had all of his belongings, he took a taxi to the airport. Getting a ticket, he got on the plane, texting you that he was on his way, before putting his phone on airplane mode. For the whole plane ride, he couldn’t sit still, thoughts on how you were doing plaguing his mind.

Arriving at the airport, he got into a taxi and rushed to the hospital where you were. When he got there, he ran to the front desk, panting out your name. The nurse told him what room, and he quickly made his way there. Turning a corner, he saw his mom outside the room.

“Mom!” he said out of breathe, finally reaching her. His mom just gave him a smile, before ushering him inside. Walking in, he saw you on the hospital bed, giving him a tense smile. He scrambled over to you, grasping your hand in his tightly.

He looked at you with soft eyes, “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here with you baby.” You tilted your head, taking in his appearance. He was still dressed in his concert attire, sweat coating his forehead, puffs of air escaping his mouth as he tried to catch his breath. It was obvious he had left straight away and that warmed your heart.

“It’s okay Yoongs, you’re here now and that’s all that matters,” you spoke through clenched teeth as another contraction, stronger than the ones before, pulsed through you. He bit his lip as you squeezed his hand painfully, slowly numbing it.

Eight hours later, and you were finally done giving birth. Yoongi got on the small bed, cuddling you into his chest as the two of you waited for the nurse to bring in your son. His mom strolled in and sat on the chair on your left, just as the nurse arrived. She walked over, handing you your son, Seo-joon, before leaving to give you all space.

Yoongi’s voice was trembling when he stated, “He’s so beautiful..” You glanced up at him to see water glistening in his eyes, a teary smile on his face. Smiling back him, you leaned your head on his, looking back at Seo-joon.

“He looks like you,” you mumbled out, taking in how his nose was boopable just like his fathers.

Your husband chuckled, placing a kiss on the top of your head, “Yeah, yeah he does.”

Hoseok

Humming to yourself, you danced around the kitchen to the music playing. You were cooking a celebratory dinner for the boys. They had just won an award and were doing a vlive at the BigHit building. Hoseok had asked if you wanted to join them, but you told him you’d rather stay at the dorm. Though, you did tell him him not to eat anything, informing him you were cooking for them.

That was an hour ago, the food now done, and you just needed to set the table. Once you had the table cloth on, you started arranging the plates and silverware. Grabbing the pot from the stove, you placed the food in the middle of the table. Stepping back, you wiped the sweat from your forehead. Usually cooking and setting the table wouldn’t wear you out. Yet, seeing as you’re 35 weeks pregnant, it took a lot out of you.

A sharp pain from your lower abdomen had you grunting, leaning on the chair next to you. Taking deep breaths in and out, you calmed yourself down. It was probably just something you ate. Nothing to worry about. Once it ceased, you straightened up, walking into Hoseok and Jimin’s room where your dress was. You picked up the boysenberry purple dress and went to the bathroom. Putting it on, you checked yourself out in the mirror, smoothing the material. You were slightly shocked to see it actually looked good. Your insecurities had been more frequent, but Hoseok had always been there to reassure you. If anything, he thought you looked even more beautiful pregnant. But can you blame him? It was his child growing in you.

Hearing your phone ring, you rushed to get it before it stopped. Seeing your boyfriend’s caller ID and picture, you smiled and answered the call.

“Hello?” you greeted him, hearing the rest of the members in the background, yelling and laughing.

“Hi baby, we’re about to leave is there anything you need us to bring?”

You went through everything in your head, before deciding you had everything, “No, I don’t think so. I’m pretty sure I have everything.”

“Then we’ll see you in about, umm, 15 minutes?” he asked you more than told you.

You giggled, “Yeah, bye baby.” Just as you two were about to hang up, you gasped.

“Jagi? What is it?”

You stared, surprised at what you saw surrounding your feet, “Umm, Hoseokie, there is actually something you can do.”

“What? What is it? Y/n baby you’re scaring me,” Hoseok’s voice was frantic as he heard the tremble in yours.

You took a shaky breath and grabbed your hospital bag, “My water just broke. I’m going to have the neighbor drive me to the hospital. I need you to meet me there.” You tried to stay calm, knowing he would freak out even more if you were freaking out.

“What?!?! Fuck, you’re not even due for another five weeks! What the fuck, ok, I’ll meet you there baby. I love you.”

You smiled, knocking on the boys’ neighbor’s door, before saying goodbye to your boyfriend. The door opened, and there stood a smiling Myung, who’s eyes grew in size when he took in your appearance.

You nervously spoke to him, “Hi Myung-ssi, um, you see. Uhh, my water broke, and Hoseok isn’t here and I need a ride to the hospital. I mean, only if you want to! I don’t want to bother you. I could always drive myse-”

“Y/n-ssi, it’s okay. Let me just grab my keys and wallet. Is Hoseok-ssi meeting you there?” Myung cut off your rant, reassuring you. You nodded and he helped you down to the lobby and his car.

When Hoseok arrived at your hospital room, you had already been there for twenty minutes. He rushed in, tears racing down his cheeks and sniffling. He stumbled his way over to you, tightly gripping your hand, “Jagi, is everything okay? Is the baby okay?”

“I’m so scared Hobi, the doctor said she’s coming out today. T-they said I have to have a C-Section. But it’s too early, I’m only 35 weeks. S-she’s gonna be premature. What if she doesn’t make it?” you said, scared out of your mind, looking up at him with fear swirling in your gaze.

Too many thoughts were running through his head, but one thing you said stuck out to him, “W-wait...you said she?” The thought of having a little princess with you caused his tears to fall even faster.

“Yeah,” you gave him a watery smile, squeezing his hand.

The doctor walked inside and cleared his throat, “Are you ready Ms. L/n and Mr. Jung?” You took a deep breath and nodded, ready to meet your daughter.

Seventeen minutes later and you heard a crying fill the room. Gasping, you watched as the nurses made sure she was breathing and had a healthy heartbeat. Once everything was cleared, a nurse wrapped her up and handed her to you. Hoseok cried as he took in the view of you holding your daughter, his daughter.

Namjoon

“Namjoon hyung come say hi to ARMY!” Jungkook yelled from where he was sitting down on the floor. All of the boys were sitting in a circle in the middle of their dance studio. They were doing a vlive, wanting to thank them for all their love and support.

Namjoon walked over and sat down next to Jin, leaning on his hands behind him. They all joked around and read the comments from their fans. Namjoon read one of them out loud, “Namjoon oppa, are you excited to meet your daughter?” A bright smile came onto his face, dimples appearing, “Ah, I am. It’s been a long journey and I know Y/n’s definitely ready for it to be over.” He joked at the end, causing the boys around him to laugh. They all knew that was definitely true.

“Is it a boy or girl?” Jimin red another comment, looking expectantly at his hyung.

Namjoon looked into the camera, “We’re having a boy. I just hope he isn’t as clumsy as I am!” Everyone laughed, secretly hoping the same. Lord knows how you would feel having to take care of two clumsy children.

This carried on for several more minutes, before Hoseok’s ringtone broke the joking. He pulled it from his pocket, eyebrows furrowing when he saw your caller ID. He answered the phone, putting it on speaker, “Y/n?”

“Yeah, hi Hoseok, where the fuck is Namjoon?” your voice came through the phone. Hearing the cuss word, the questioned man choked on his spit.

“I’m right here Jagi, we’re doing a vlive. What did you need?” Namjoon attempted to warn you not to say anything worse, but you honestly didn’t give a shit.

The boys heard you scoff on the other end, “Do you really think I give a motherfucking bitch ass shit about if you’re live when I’m about to push out your child?” Everyone froze as soon as the words met their ears.

“Wait, what?! You’re in labor?!” Namjoon squeaked out in shock. Why hadn’t you called him?

You rolled your eyes, even though they couldn’t see, “Yes, you piece of shit. And you would know this if you had answered your phone.” Oh, so you had tried to reach him. Guilt overcame him, making him feel miserable. How stupid could he be? Your voice was still stern as you spoke once again, “It’s your fault I’m pregnant, so you better get your ass here now.” And before anyone could get another word out, you hung up on them.

The BTS members all sat in silence, before Namjoon grabbed the selfie stick and ran out of the room, “ARMY, let’s go have a baby!!” He talked to all the viewers on the taxi ride over, only turning it off when he was about to go into your hospital room.

“Hi jagiya, I’m here!” Namjoon cheered, walking over to where you lay, kissing your forehead with bright eyes. Rolling your eyes, you sighed, knowing he would be getting an earful when you were not in pain.

Jimin

The screaming fans that were there for soundcheck could be heard from where the boys sat in their dressing room. They were holding a concert, here in Seoul, to kick off their small tour. Taehyung and Jungkook were messing with Jin, the rapline were discussing the tour, while Jimin was on facetime with you.

“Jagiya~ I miss you~” Jimin said in a sing-song voice. He should feel embarrassed, since he’s only been away from for an hour, but he couldn’t care less. Ever since the two of you found out you were pregnant, he’d been even more clingy and protective. You couldn’t lie, you loved when he was clingy.

You giggled, shaking your head with a cheesy smile on your face, “I miss you too Jiminie~” He sighed dreamily, loving when you missed him as well.

“What have you been up to since I’ve been gone baby?” he asked you, tugging on a lose string on his shirt.

You hummed, pretending to think it over, “I’ve been watching Netflix, that one drama I told you about.” He nodded, letting you know he knew which show you were talking about.

“Jimin-ah, it’s time to go on for soundcheck,” Yoongi said before Jimin could say anything. He sighed, pouting as he heard you laughing at him.

You bit your lip, wishing you could star into his eyes without a screen in between you two. You gazed at him for a little longer before stating, “I’ll see you when you get home baby. I love you.”

“Okay princess, I love you too,” he replied, blowing you a kiss. He hung up, your cute giggles echoing in his ears.

He got up from his seat, huffing out a breath, and then headed over to where the rest of his band mates were waiting for him. They all walked out on stage, interacting with the fans who got early access. After talking to them and joking around, they started going through their set list, making sure everything was in order and ready to hold the actual concert. Two hours later, they were getting ready for their first song. Time flew by and before Jimin knew it, the concert ended and they were saying their goodbyes to their loving and loyal fans.

Tiredly following behind his friends, he made his way over to where his phone was. Clicking the home button, his lock-screen lit up up the screen. He gazed at it happily, it was a picture of you and him cuddling on the couch fast asleep. His smile fell into a confused frown when he saw a random number had called and left a voicemail. Unlocking his phone, he listened to the voicemail, feeling his heart stop and drop in his chest.

“Hello Mr. Park, this is Dr. Kim. I’m calling to let you know your girlfriend has gone in to labor and to get to Severance Hospital as quick as you can.”

As soon as the line went silent, he dropped to his knees. His hearing was going in and out, gasping for oxygen, vision blurring. He could faintly hear someone yelling his name, trying to calm him down from the panic attack he was having.

Finally coming to his senses, he stumbled to his feet, weakly repeating, “I n-need to get to the hospital. I need to get to the hospital. I need...” Namjoon grabbed his shoulders.

“Jimin, Jimin! Why do you need to go hospital?” Namjoon’s voice was stern, attempting to get through to him.

Jimin looked at his hyung with tears in his eyes,”Y/n, s-she went into labor five hours ago. I need to get to her, I can’t miss this. I can’t hyung.” Namjoon nodded, and helped him gather his things, then proceeding with him to the car waiting for him.

Getting into the vehicle, Namjoon held Jimin as he cried. His heart broke for the younger man that was like his brother. He knew Jimin would hate himself if he wasn’t there to help you bring your son into the world. He knew Jimin didn’t want you to go through all the pain alone. Suddenly the car slowed to a stop, and the eldest of the two moved the curtain to see if they were there. He was shocked to see they were stuck in traffic, still three hours away from the hospital.

“Namjoon-ah, why are we stopped?” Jimin asked him, completely afraid to hear the answer, that he forgot to use honorifics. Though, Namjoon didn’t care at that moment.

The driver’s voice answered Jimin’s question before Namjoon could, “There seems to be an accident up ahead. Which explains all this traffic. We should get there in the next four to five hours.”

“Four to five hours?! No! I have to be there now, I can’t, I can’t miss any more. Is there any way we could get there faster?” Jimin started to hyperventilate, eyes darting around.

Namjoon placed his hands on Jimin’s, voice calm and even, “Jimin-ah, it’ll be okay, I promise.” Though, his words did nothing to reassure the dancer.

True to the driver’s words, they arrived four hours later. Jimin didn’t even wait for the car to come to a stop before he was out of the vehicle and dashing inside. As soon as he got your room number, he ran to you. Bursting through the door, he was graced with the sight of you smiling down at your son. You looked up when he walked over. He expected you to be frowning or yelling at him, full of anger. Yet, you were anything but that. Instead, you gave him an exhausted smile, before handing over your baby to him. Jimin lovingly gazed at him, his thumb softly grazing the infant’s cheek.

Taehyung

“5, 6, 5, 6, 7, 8,” Hoseok’s voice rang throughout the room for what seemed like the hundredth time that evening. In reality, they had only been practicing for an hour and a half, but it had already been a long day. Starting from eleven in the morning, they had two interviews, a photo shoot, and now rehearsal. Taehyung had asked you if you wanted to join them, which he was hoping you would agree, but you had told him you would be fine at your shared apartment. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t worried. You were 39 weeks pregnant and ready to give birth any minute now, so could you really blame him for wanting you to be with him at all times?

Coming back to the task at hand, Taehyung started dancing to Baepsae alongside the rest of the members. Hoseok finally let them all have a small break after going through different songs for half an hour. Greedily gulping in breaths of oxygen, Taehyung slumped against the wall, pulling out his phone from his bag. Turning it on, he waited for everything to load. Once it did, he saw he had more than fifty messages, all from you. His breath hitched when he read through them.

You: Hey Taehyungie, don’t freak out, but my water broke and Minseo is bringing me to the hospital

You: Okay, the doctor just left and said I’m only 5 centimeters dilated so you still have time to get here

You: Update, I’m now 7 centimeters

You: Taehyung, where the fuck are you? I’m 8 centimeters. I start pushing at 10.

You: I swear to god, if you’re not here soon we’re gonna have a problem.

You: It’s Minseo, Y/n can’t text because she’s currently pushing, but she wants me to tell you “If you’re not here in the next 20 minutes, I’m gonna divorce your ass you fucking dick.”

Checking the time, he saw the last message was sent not even five minutes ago. Hopping up from the floor, he ran out of the room without any indication on where he was going. The other boys yelled after him, but he was already long gone. Taehyung threw the company doors open and ran all the way to the hospital. When he arrived, he only had five minutes to get to you. He wasn’t going to lie, he was scared you actually would divorce him. He panted as the door banged against your hospital room’s wall.

“I’m here! Please don’t be mad and divorce me!” he yelled out, hands on his knees as he heaved. The doctors and nurses all chuckled, but you were glaring at him with heated eyes.

You put your hand out towards him, growling, “Get your ass over here and hold my hand. Now.” He tripped on his way over, letting you have a death grip on his hand. He felt your hand shaking and looked up to observe your face. You were biting your lip, eyes wide and scared. He grasped your chin, softly turning your face towards his. Staring into your eyes, he gave you a soothing smile, kissing your lips.

Many hours had passed, it was well into the night, when your daughter was born. The two of you teared up when you heard her beautiful cries. She was placed in your arms and was currently sleeping. Taehyung barely ran a finger down the side of her face. She was absolutely beautiful and looked like the both of you.

Jungkook

Jungkook and you were chilling in his bed, watching some movie that you forgot the name of. He was completely entranced by it, while you were bored out of your mind. You were also starving for some greasy food. Grunting, you untangled your limbs from his and got up.

“Where ya goin?” Jungkook mumbled, not entirely focused on you. You just walked out without telling him. If he wasn’t going to give you his whole attention you weren’t going to give him any. Sure, you were being petty, but you were pregnant so it was a good enough excuse.

Trudging into the dorm kitchen, you opened the fridge, and looked at all your options. The thing that caught your eye was Jungkook’s left over lamb skewers. Smiling, you heated them up and then headed back to the comfy bed. You waddled over and sat back down next to your boyfriend. Said man looked over when a delicious smell entered his nose. It was silent, the only sound being the movie still playing. Well, before Jungkook rudely interrupted it.

“Are those my lamb skewers?!” he exclaimed, mouth dropped in shock.

You smiled and happily ate them, “Yup!” Your voice was cheerful and light, causing Jungkook to get his signature ‘Jungshook’ face. If you weren’t carrying his child, he would have fought you for taking his food. Seeing as you were, and he really didn’t want to see you cry or have to sleep on the couch again, he didn’t say a word. Instead, he just turned back to face the TV in his room.

An hour later, and you gasped, your hand flying through the air and smacking him in the face. He let out a startled noise, jumping away from you. His palm touched his reddening check, staring at you in disbelief.

“Why the fuck did you just hit me? I let you have my last skewers!” he yelled out, glaring at you.

You looked at him in excitement, “Kookie! I just had a contraction!” His eyes grew in size, looking like a deer caught in headlights. Why were you excited when he was scared?

“W-what? What does that mean?” he innocently questioned you, not having a clue of what you meant.

You danced in your spot, “It means we’re gonna have a baby with us soon!” He froze, absolute fear coursing through him.

“No.” he said one word, and that word not only broke you, but it angered you as well.

You narrowed your eyes at him, a scowl on your face, “Excuse me? What do you mean no?” Whatever game he was playing at was not funny.

“No. I-I don’t want the baby anymore!” he blurted out, even though he knew that wasn’t true. He was the one that was the most excited about having a child with you. He was just scared he wasn’t going to be a good enough dad. What if he dropped it? Or what if he forgot he even had a baby when he was playing a game?

You scoffed, crossing your arms, “Well it’s a little too late for that don’t you think Jungkook?” Your words were ice cold, and it made him shrink in on himself. He didn’t want to make you mad at him.

“I do want the baby!” he frantically said, not wanting you to leave him.

Uncrossing you arms, you looked at him bewildered, “Which one is it Jungkook? Do you want the baby or not?” You were getting tired of this small fight, and of the small cramps that were from the contractions. You noted in your head that they were seven minutes apart and you’d need to leave for the hospital soon.

“I’m just...I’m scared I won’t be a good father, and that you’ll leave me when you realize this..” his voice was quiet, trailing off towards the end.

You brought him into a loving embrace, “Hey, hey, Kookie. You’re gonna be the best dad ever. Don’t worry.” He took a shaky inhale and nodded, helping you up so you could get ready to go.

Around 8:41PM, you were pushing and pushing, exhausted from all the work. Jungkook was standing next your bed, face white as a ghost as he stared at your pain filled face. God, he felt like he was going to throw and pass out. When the doctor announced that your babies, one girl and one boy, did he actually pass out, leaving you to sigh and hold your children.

uhhh idk how I made this tiny font, I hit a random button while holding down ctrl, but it’s so cute. if anyone knows how I did this please let me know!

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fmdminaharchive · 3 years

Text

❧ past to present.

date(s): 31 december 2020 mentions of: n/a word count: +/- 750 warnings: n/a details: minah meets up with minji briefly after the triple fantasy concert in busan and spends that time doting on her baby sisters just because she can, unfortunately that moment is far too short. just more na siblings interactions because i Can also a prelude for a follow up solo which will have actual significance.

“unnie!” a high-pitched, elated voice screeches through the backstage area and minah has ample time to spin around on the heels she’d been wearing while performing, not having gotten around to changing out of her stage outfit with the concert only just having ended when a familiar body collides with hers, arms immediately wrapping around her younger sister to cuddle her close. “minji, how did you get back here?” minah gasps out in surprise, holding minji at an arm’s length distance to take her in. the blonde highlights in her hair are definitely new but apart from that, she looks exactly how minah has known her for years, signature sharp smile and all.

“oh, you know me, i got my connections.” minji shrugs simply, batting her lashes innocently far as minah is aware, the backstage area was supposed to be off-limits to anyone that wasn’t staff or artists. minah suspects her manager to have something to do with it, spotting the older woman watching their interaction fondly from a distance.

perhaps minah isn’t too surprised, minji had a way of working herself into people’s hearts like that.

“of course you do, just stay out of trouble yeah? don’t stress mom out even more than you already do you menace.” minah warns her but her tone of voice is soft, fond, it’s not like she could ever truly give minji a hard time and her sister seems aware of that, she must be with the way she buries herself tighter into the embrace. “don’t worry about that, minseo unnie is on my ass enough as it is, i couldn’t do anything fun if i tried.”

minah laughs, shaking her head. “minseo is just looking out for you, try not to bicker too much.” she tries to appease minji, earning her a sharp scoff from the girl. minji and minseo have never gotten along very well, minah was very aware of that, if there was anyone going at each other’s throat in the na family home, it was probably them. “far more important, did you like the concert?” she asks to distract minji from their current topic.

it works like a charm, the frown between her sister’s eyebrows easing up and smiling widely, nodding eager. “it was so cool! unity’s stage was so cool, truly no one could ever compare!” minji beams from ear to ear and minah playfully rolls her eyes. “you were supposed to come see me remember? not drool over unity with your friends.” she huffs in feigned offense, bumping her hip into her sisters. “it’s not my fault they’re all so hot-” a pointed look from minah, minji giggling innocently. “but you guys were really good too! you looked so pretty on stage unnie, i totally bragged to all my friends about my cool unnie singing better than half the artists performing!”

minah shakes her head, mildly exasperated. “you’re such a damn brat jiji.” she sighs, fingers coming affectionately through minji’s hair. “are your friends waiting for you? i don’t want you wandering around by yourself.” her sister was nothing short of a menace after all, minah didn’t trust her not to dash off and take a peek at whoever else was still backstage if she could help it.

“don’t your trust me unnie?” minji asks and minah just simply shakes her head, causing the younger to pout. “okay, okay, fine, they’re waiting for me outside, we’re going out for hotpot, join us maybe?” her eyes twinkle and minah’s chest aches with the overwhelming urge to say yes, to spend time with minji and her group of friends a decade younger than minah herself. but she can’t. minji might be here but that doesn’t mean this is free time, that she has any control over what her days look like. no, this is still work time and work doesn’t care about family, it doesn’t care about the holidays and it surely doesn’t care about minah wanting to grab dinner with her little sister.

minah just smiles sympathetically. “sorry jiji, i wish i could be my schedule won’t allow for it.” she admits mournfully.

“oh, but of course, no problem.” minji tries to remain cheery, minah can tell, bt her smile is wobbly and it no longer quite reaches her eyes. “just, let me know when you’re in town next time yeah? we’ll just... meet up then.”

minah knows she doesn’t have to say out loud that she doesn’t know when that next time will be, probably not on short notice.

#*:･ﾟ♔– «am i the only one who remembers» // solos.#//minji is a unity stan cuz i said so

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sophcaro · 5 years

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Destiny | WMatsui - Epilogue

November 2021 – 3 months later

Rena entered her childhood bedroom, a feeling of nostalgia tainted with slight unease filling her at the view greeting her. Gazing at the countless souvenirs at her effigy, she got reminded once more that her old bedroom had long ago ceased belonging to her, to transform into a shrine dedicated to her existence. Stepping inside, she was careful not to bump into anything, not knowing where to look at between the magazines, framed pictures, goodies and posters on the wall.

She had had the opportunity to enter Jurina’s own childhood bedroom, and there was no denying that Jurina’s mother possessed the same desire to keep as many memories as possible of her unique and precious daughter. However, in no way could it compare with the current state of Rena’s old bedroom. There were so many boxes everywhere, that she couldn’t even pretend to catch a glimpse of the surface of her bed.

“You should have warned me in advance that you were coming, I would have prepared the room for you.” Rena glanced over her shoulder, witnessing her mother standing on the doorstep. “Come and take a cup of tea.” She wavered at her. “The weather is so cold outside. It will heat you up after your travel.”

Rena followed her outside, her attention falling on the two cups filled with green tea disposed on the living room table. “Don’t worry about it. I easily managed to find a hotel close by, and I didn’t want to be of any disturbance.”

“What are you talking about?” Her mother pulled a chair, inviting her to take a seat opposite her. “I would have tidied your bedroom in an hour.”

Rena found her mother’s underestimation of the situation comical, lucid that it would have taken ages to clear the mess her mother had accumulated during all these years.

“Why did Jurina-chan wanted you to sleep separately?” Her mother asked in a mixture of confusion and concern.

“Ah…” Rena hadn’t explained everything over the phone, and feared how it might have looked. “She’s a bit superstitious. She says we’re not supposed to sleep together the night preceding our wedding. So, I thought I would use the opportunity to come and visit you before the ceremony.”

“I never heard such silliness.” Her mother seemed utterly dumbfounded. “So where’s Jurina-chan? Is she alone at your apartment?”

“No, she’s also in Nagoya. She’s staying at her mother’s place. We’ll meet them later on at the venue.” Rena took a sip of her tea, watching in curiosity as her mother stood up from the table and disappeared without warning, returning with a large brown photo album.

“When you said you were coming, I thought we could go over your photo album.”

Rena shifted uneasily on her seat. “Mom, I…”

“Oh, come on. When was the last time you took a look at your childhood memories?”

Probably many years, and for a good reason, Rena wanted to reply but kept her thoughts to herself, not wishing to argue. It wasn’t that she had had a terrible childhood, but she always felt uncomfortable reviewing old pictures. It was like gazing at a person that she didn’t fully recognize, a girl that was far from representing the mature and confident woman she had grown into over the years.

When her mother motioned the sofa, Rena relented and took a seat beside her, her mother not waiting to flip the pages and share a few comments. Rena was impressed by the collection she had managed to gather over the years, failing to remember some shots taken. There were a few depicting her passage in kindergarten, undeniable moments of pure and genuine innocence. Followed a couple during elementary school, those bringing less happy memories. They reminded her of a period when her parents’ work had forced the family to move away, resulting in her changing school and losing good friends she had made.

It had been a complicated period of her life. At this age, children were not kind towards each other. Rena couldn’t count the number of times she had witnessed children in her class being bullied or pointed at for being different. Those experiences had transformed her into a distant and reserved kid. As she stumbled upon pictures of her brother and her playing and having fun, she recalled that those difficult years were not void of good memories.

During her childhood, both her parents had been largely absent due to their consuming work, bringing her older brother and her closer. When her mother arrived at the page marking the beginning of her teenage years, Rena was conscious that her older brother had definitely influenced her. After all, who else but him had introduced her to the wonderful 2D world? Even if she and her brother didn’t always have the same tastes and didn’t agree on everything, this new discovered passion had led her to open up. Connect with people who shared the same common interests.

“That reminds me that your brother is late.” Her mother looked up from the photo album with a slight frown. “He was supposed to arrive thirty minutes ago.”

“He probably got delayed because of work. I’m sure he’ll arrive soon,” Rena tried to sound reassuring.

“You also work a lot, and you are punctual when you visit us. He better not be late at the wedding or I’ll…” Her mother didn’t finish her sentence, yet the sight of her brow furrowing threateningly gave away the scolding her brother was certain to be subjected to.

“You’re worrying too much. Why don’t we take a look at the other pictures?” Rena took the initiative to turn the following page. When she faced a 17-year-old version of herself clad in an idol uniform, she was astonished. She had absolutely no recollection of this particular moment. “When was this picture taken? Who took it?”

“It was the day of SKE48’s first concert. Remember families had been invited to assist to the event?”

It took a moment or two for Rena to search her memory. “Oh yes, right…”

“This picture was taken after the concert. When you heard that we were backstage, you came to see us,” her mother went on. “You were so exhausted that I could tell this concert had been very demanding for you, but it was impossible not to notice how happy you were. Until that day, I had my doubts about the path you had chosen to follow. But when I saw the satisfaction on your face, I didn’t regret allowing you to audition. It didn’t matter how many years you would stay in this idol group; your father and I knew this experience would change you for the best.”

Rena was touched by her mother’s confession.

“Later on, we met with Jurina-chan.”

Rena’s eyes widened in shock. “Wait, you did? I never heard of it.”

“Your dad and I were making our leave when a young, shy girl approached us. Jurina always seemed so energetic and overly enthusiastic, that we were startled by her seriousness. To be honest, I did worry you two wouldn’t get along. I even wondered why management had paired you with a girl so young and different from you. It took me a while to realize I was looking at things from the wrong spectrum.”

“We complemented each other,” Rena finished her train of thoughts, receiving a nod of agreement in return.

“Who could have imagined that this 11-year old kid who promised your father and I - with such bold confidence - to always take care of you, would one day be the person you would marry?”

Rena laughed. “She told you that? Really?!”

They were distracted by the sound of the front door opening, a familiar 33-year-old short dark-haired young man soon appearing in front of the sofa.

“You’re late! Your sister arrived 30 minutes ago,” Rena’s mother reprimanded him.

“I’m sorry, I got delayed at work.” He scratched his head nervously. “I missed my Nozomi and had to take the next train.”

At the sound of keys turning into the lock once more, Rena’s mother stood up at once, the door opening on the head of the family holding plastic bags. “You didn’t forget anything, did you?”

“No, I got everything you wrote on the list.”

“I better check he didn’t forget anything for lunch,” the mother mumbled. “Lately, he’s been very distracted. He forgets where he left his keys, and even misplaces his shoes.”

Rena hid a smile at her mother’s worrying expression, following her retreating form as she hastily went to join her father in the kitchen.

“So, this is really happening.” Rena’s brother took a seat next to her. “My little sister is getting married this afternoon. Do you realize how much pressure that puts on me? Mom won’t stop asking when I’m going to get married with Sachiko.”

“Oh, I… I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not. You wanted to get married, nevermind the cost and the consequences for your poor older brother,” he said with a cheeky smile.

Rena pretended to be offended. “You make me sound so selfish.”

The opened photo album got his attention and he turned a few pages, witnessing the progressive growth of his sister through the ages, until he arrived at the end of the album and stumbled upon a photo extracted from a magazine.

“I can’t… I can’t believe mom put that picture in here,” Rena stammered, recognizing the 2014 Bubka magazine her mother had taken the extract from, and showing the Matsui pair clad in newlyweds’ outfits. “Jurina showed me that same photoshoot a couple of weeks ago. She’s convinced it was a premonitory sign.”

“As in it was… destiny?” He seemed pensive, pondering over her declaration. “Yes, I can imagine that. I think your bride-to-be is completely right.”

Rena surrendered, laughing. “You can tell her that when you see her later. I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to learn that someone shares her view on the subject.”

Her brother lingered on the picture of the WMatsui pair, then closed the photo album. “She makes you happy, doesn’t she?”

Rena was caught off guard by her brother’s straightforward question. “Yes, she does,” she smiled warmly. “No one makes me happier.”

His face shone with satisfaction and pleasure. “Then you have all the right in the world to be a little selfish.”

******

It was the beginning of the afternoon when they met in the hall of the ceremony venue, Rena’s mom approaching and dialoguing with Jurina’s mom with great ease. Seeing both their families getting along couldn’t make Rena any more pleased. In fact, the two women had clicked so well that she suspected them to have communicated often lately, even more the past 3 months to discuss the upcoming wedding preparation.

While both their mothers were engrossed in their chat, Rena used the opportunity to sweep around the hotel she and Jurina had chosen to hold the wedding celebration. She was more than satisfied with their decision. It had taken a while to find a place that would – not only accept to hold such a special ceremony – but also suited both their taste in terms of service offered and location. The Japanese law only allowed them to register their union in Tokyo. Yet, when it came to choosing the ceremony location, it was naturally that they had opted for Nagoya.

After inspecting the place, her gaze landed on Jurina standing opposite her beside Yumiko. Her fiancée was wearing a casual outfit; long black jeans along with a pair of white and blue Puma sneakers. Rena distinguished an all-too-familiar Hawaiian tee-shirt hidden beneath her leather black jacket, the letters of the Aloha greeting slightly worn out from years of use. Just as her father and brother, Jurina was listening to the conversation unfolding, and Rena found her abnormally quiet and serious. Given the circumstances, she would have expected her to be more cheerful and talkative, and her current silence struck her as odd.

Reaching out for Jurina’s hand, she pulled her aside, enough to grant them a little privacy. “Hey, is everything fine?”

“Yes, why?” Jurina brightened up.

“You are?” Rena studied her carefully, skeptical. “You haven’t said a word since you arrived. Are you feeling nervous?”

“Nervous? No. Why would I be?” Jurina blinked, as if puzzled by what she was asking. “I haven’t stopped thinking about this day for the past three months. Sometimes, I have difficulty believing this is really happening. But if there’s one thing I know…” her voice dropped down to a low murmur. She laced their fingers together and moved forward, leaning her forehead against Rena’s. “It’s that I love you and I want to spend my life with you.”

Rena’s chest warmed up at her profession of love. “It is happening.” She slid her fingers beneath Jurina’s chin and brought her face back to hers. “And I love you even more.”

“No, that’s not possible,” Jurina said with an impish grin.

“Oh yes, it is. And you won’t manage to get the last word on this.” Rena tugged onto the hem of her tee-shirt.

Jurina arched an eyebrow. “Wanna bet?” she leaned closer to her, whispering in her ear seductively. “I can be very persuasive when I want.”

Rena gave her shoulder a playful slap. “I think we should stop. This debate is becoming a little-”

“Silly?”

“Just a bit.” Rena gently kissed her cheek. “By the way… I know you said you wanted us to get changed and prepare ourselves in separate rooms, but really, it’s not necessary.”

A serious look passed over Jurina’s features. “No, I told you. It’s bad luck to see each other’s dresses before the wedding.”

Rena bit down on her lower lip, not convinced Jurina had been entirely honest with her. “I’ve never been a superstitious person, and I don’t feel at ease with the idea of leaving you alone. There are three hours left until the ceremony, and I know how apprehensive and stressed you can get before important events. And this is… This is our wedding. You have to understand I have difficulty believing you when you say you’re not-”

“It’s very important to me. And besides, I won’t be alone. My mom, Mayu, Churi… I’ll be surrounded by many people. You have nothing to worry about. Really, I mean it.”

“Alright then,” Rena reluctantly surrendered. “But if you ever change your mind or feel the need to talk to me, I’ll be right next door.”

“I know. Thank you. Thank you for understanding.” Jurina pressed her lips against hers, pulling them into a long, passionate kiss.

Rena was stunned by the intimate gesture in public, not failing to notice from her peripheral vision their families staring at them.

Jurina turned red, understanding what she had done. “Please…” She didn’t dare to look back. “Please tell me they didn’t see anything.”

Rena suppressed a smile, preferring to opt for a white lie. “Don’t worry, they are not paying attention to us.”

******

Jurina stared at her reflection through the mirror, releasing a despondent sigh as she studied how she looked. She had long ago swapped her previous daily clothes for her wedding dress yet, nevermind how frequently she went over and over her appearance, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing. So why on earth couldn’t she put her finger on the problem?

There clearly wasn’t anything wrong with the dress. Her white French under-bustle wedding gown fit her size to the perfection - not too tight nor too loose - loving the soft satin touch underneath her fingertips. As for her hairstyle, the professional hairdresser hired for the occasion had respected her request up to the finest detail. She had brushed back her jet-black hair and tied it into a neat bun behind her head, the latter closed by a flowered pattern hair comb to which was attached a flyaway veil falling down her back.

Jurina checked that her Marquise silver crystal leaf shape earrings were well adjusted, then distractedly played with her silver platinum teardrop Zirconia necklace, upset that she couldn’t find the origin of what was troubling her. Today was supposed to be the most important moment of her life: she couldn’t afford the slightest mistake. Everything needed to be as perfect as she envisioned.

The sound of the dressing room door opening brought her out of her thoughts and she glanced back, witnessing Mayu entering. Jurina stood up at once. “How is the preparation going? Has everyone arrived yet? Have you seen Rena?”

“Everything is going well and no, I haven’t seen her,” her best friend, and one of her bridesmaids, answered with a small groan. “You already asked me all those questions 10 minutes ago. I told you have nothing to worry about. If you wanted to see your future wife so badly, then why did you decide to get changed in separate rooms?”

“Because it’s bad luck! Rena and I can’t see each other’s wedding dresses before the ceremony!”

“Says who?” Mayu crossed her arms over her chest. “I saw Yuki’s dress before our wedding and the world didn’t end. Look.” She pointed at the wedding band on her ring finger. “Still happily married eight months later.”

“Yes, yes, it’s just… It’s just that I’m a little curious to know how she’s doing,” Jurina admitted a little sheepishly. “But I refuse to see her before the ceremony. That’s out of the question.”

Mayu rolled her eyes at the bride’s stubbornness, then glanced over her shoulder when Yuki entered the room with precipitation. “Oh my God, you should have seen Rena’s dress! It’s so… beautiful!” Yuki was unable to contain her enthusiasm. “And her hair! She arranged her hair like-”

When Jurina shot her a warning look, she stopped dead.

“Oh… I completely forgot.” Yuki clasped her hand over her mouth.

They were interrupted by another knock. Akane, clad in her pink bridesmaid dress, appeared through the doorframe. “Hi. I was checking to see how things were going and if you needed my help?”

“Oh good,” Mayu let out a heavy sigh of relief. “Yes, it’s good you’re here. I think I’m going to lose my mind if Jurina questions me again about the wedding preparation or her future wife. One that she’s dying to see by the way, but refuses to meet for completely foolish reasons.”

Jurina glared at her.

“I’m going to check with Yuki how the wedding preparation is going,” Mayu said, addressing Akane. “Do you mind staying with Jurina for a moment?”

“Of course not.”

Yuki followed the petite girl out of the room, tilting her head in Jurina’s direction one last time. “Do you need anything? Is there something I can get you?”

“No, I’m fine. Thank you for asking,” Jurina said with a grateful smile.

“You’re welcome,” Yuki winked at her. “And you know, Mayuyu is right. You have nothing to worry about. Everything will be perfect.”

“Yes, your wedding will be perfect,” Mayu quickly confirmed. “Trust me; I made absolutely sure of it.”

The corners of Jurina’s mouth turned up, slightly frustrated with herself that her friends reassuring words didn’t seem to be enough to put her at ease.

As Yuki and Mayu made their way out and closed the door behind them, Akane watched the future bride taking another seat in front of the mirror. She joined her side, concerned when she noticed her troubled expression. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“I think I’m about to lose one of my bridesmaids,” Jurina said, half-joking, eyes turned towards the floor. “Mayu is right. I haven’t stopped badgering her about Rena and the wedding preparation since I arrived. I feel so useless in here. I should be outside, preparing the ceremony and making sure everything is going well.”

“For a starter, you’re the one who insisted on not seeing Rena before the wedding,” Akane gently reminded her. “And about the ceremony, you have nothing to worry about. The hotel staff is extremely competent and prepared everything. And frankly, I think you have nothing to fear. Between Rena’s mom and yours welcoming the guests, Mayu arranging the flowers every 5 minutes, Yuki harassing the kitchen staff, and Airin checking the seating plan over and over… I would be astonished if you managed to spot a single issue on your way out.”

Akane’s words managed to make her smile. “Have you seen her? I mean, Rena…” she asked awkwardly, curiosity getting the best of her. “I don’t want to know anything about her dress but… Did she seem fine? Did she look happy?”

“We exchanged a few words when she arrived with her family, but I haven’t seen her since. Not since she locked herself up in her dressing room. I believe Airin is with her, helping her getting prepared.”

Jurina took a moment to process the information.

“I shouldn’t be behaving like this. It’s supposed to be the best day of my life and here I am, annoying everyone around me with my questions,” Jurina admonished herself.

“You’re not annoying me.” Akane held Jurina’s hand, startled when it trembled inside hers. “Wait, you’re nervous.”

Jurina didn’t dare to look her in the eye. “Imagine if I trip on my dress? Or I forget my vows because I’m too stressed? All my family and friends will be present to witness such a disaster, and Rena will remember it for the rest of her life.”

Akane giggled. “Everything will be fine. It’s completely normal to be nervous. You said it yourself: it’s the most important day of your life. When you will walk down the aisle, everyone that matters to you will be here to witness you committing to the person you love. Today, you’re taking one of the most important decisions of your life. I wouldn’t expect you to be anything but nervous.”

Jurina swallowed a nervous lump in her throat. “Will you believe me if I tell you that’s not exactly helping?”

Akane gave Jurina’s fingers a light, reassuring squeeze. “You need to enjoy every minute of this day. There’s nothing more beautiful than the bold step you are both taking today. I’m truly happy for both of you. I mean it.”

“I know you do.” Jurina was touched by her friend’s last words. It had required some time, but during the course of this last year, the conflictual relationship between Akane and Rena had mended and progressively transformed into a mutual respectful and sincere friendship. “Thank you. Thank you for saying all that.”

“So, are you more relaxed?”

Jurina made a face. “Well, uh… You want an honest reply?”

“At least I tried. Wait, I have an idea.” Akane’s eyes widened and she quickly got up. “Do you mind if I leave you alone for a few minutes?”

Jurina was taken aback by the strange twinkle in her eye. “Sure, of course. Don’t worry about me. Take all the time your need.”

“I’ll be back soon.” Akane span on her heels, leaving the future bride trying again to find a non-existent issue with her appearance.

******

Rena ran the brush through her long brown hair, making sure the ends fell nicely in front her left shoulder and down her chest. When she deemed herself satisfied, she settled the comb back on the dressing table and directed her attention towards the jewelry box. Opening it, she retrieved a pair of golden bracelets. She placed the first around her left wrist, making sure the attach was well-secured, then seized the second matching one and placed it around her other wrist.

Rena took a short intake of breath and paid attention to her reflection across the mirror, trying not to be too distracted by the other feminine presence in the room quietly observing her. Rena’s fingers trailed down her arms, enjoying the soft sensation of the delicate flowery pattern of her white lace half-sleeved wedding dress. It had taken her a few attempts to find the right dress that would suit her taste. When her eyes had landed onto that simple but elegant wedding dress in the shop, she had instantly fallen in love with it.

Rena couldn’t help but check twice that her bracelets were well-attached, not wishing to lose them during the ceremony by accident. She was ready to add the final touch to her appearance, and seized the lipstick. As she carefully applied a gentle pink color on her lips, her gaze met across the mirror with the other girl sitting in the room. At her bridesmaid’s distinctive expression of admiration, Rena blushed. “Airin, can you please stop looking at me like this?”

“Oh, I-” Airi cleared her throat. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stare at you.”

Rena laughed softly. “You’ve barely left my side in two hours. You can leave if you wish, I’m almost done.”

“It’s fine. I’ll stay,” Airi shook her head negatively. “I want to be here in case you need anything.”

Rena eyed her with mild amusement. “Alright, but can you explain why you are acting as if it was the first time you were seeing me in that dress? Do I need to remind you that you were present when I bought it?”

“Yes, but it’s not the same thing. You were only trying it on. Today is special, and you are exuding such beauty and happiness.”

“Alright, that’s enough...” Rena lowered the lipstick and turned around. “You haven’t stopped complimenting me. It’s getting very embarrassing.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t help it. I wouldn’t be surprised if Jurina falls in love with you all over again when you walk down the aisle. I hope she won’t faint when she sees you, or it will be problematic to continue the ceremony.”

Rena chuckled at her foolishness.

“Do you think she will like it?” Rena faced the mirror, a sudden knot in her stomach. “I haven’t overdone it, have I?” When her questions were met with a longing silence, she gazed back, witnessing her best friend staring at her. “What is it?” A worried expression washed over Rena’s face. “Is something wrong with my makeup? Or my hairstyle? Do I need to change something?”

As Rena was about to adjust her hair, Airi quickly stood up and placed a reassuring hand on top of hers. “No, everything’s perfect. You don’t need to change a single thing. It’s only that I noticed something since we’ve arrived at the hotel. You looked so calm and relaxed, even laughing and telling jokes, that you almost managed to fool me. It took me until now to understand it was all an act.”

“An act?” Rena blinked.

“Yes, an act. To hide how you truly feel deep inside. Stressed and nervous.”

“Why would I be…?” Rena started, only to face Airi’s knowing look. “You caught me. I cannot hide anything from my best friend, can I?” She sighed with resignation. “And here I thought I was hiding it well.”

“You were,” Airi admitted with a gentle smile. “I simply couldn’t shake the feeling that you were behaving oddly, given what is at stake today. Why are you trying to hide how you feel? It’s completely normal to be a little nervous given the circumstances. I’m sure Jurina must be feeling the same way too.”

Rena opened her mouth, but didn’t have the opportunity to answer that a knock interrupted them. “Airin? Are you here?”

At the sound of Akane’s voice, Airi went to open. “Hi, Airin. How are things going on your side?”

“Good. And you? How is Jurina doing?”

Akane heaved a deep sigh. “I think I’ve never seen Jurina so nervous. She even managed to drive away Mayu and Yuki with her constant questions about Rena and the ceremony. That’s why I was wondering if R-”

“Jurina is very nervous?” The door flew open, revealing a concerned Rena staring at Akane questioningly.

“She… she is,” Akane confessed, surprised by the bride’s sudden apparition. “I did my best to calm her down and reassure her, but I couldn’t be of much help.”

A short moment of silent followed, until Rena took a step outside the dressing room. “I’ll go and see her.”

Akane spoke up hesitantly. “I did think about that too, but she seems adamant on not seeing you in your wedding dress until the ceremony. So, I’m not sure how… I’m not sure what you can do.”

“I know, and she won’t see me. But I think I know a way to help her relax,” Rena replied confidently and walked in the direction of Jurina’s dressing room, leaving both bridesmaids exchanging baffled looks.

******

“Jurina, it’s me. Can I come in?”

Jurina froze at the familiar feminine voice. No, it wasn’t possible, she cast over her shoulder a look of bewilderment in the direction of the door. Rena couldn’t be here: they had agreed not to meet until the beginning of the ceremony. Her mind had to be playing tricks on her; it had to be the explanation. Given how frequently her thoughts had drifted towards her fiancée for the past 24 hours, it wouldn’t be that improbable. When the unexpected calling of her name was followed by a long moment of silence, Jurina faced the mirror, shaking her head at her own divagations.

That’s precisely when two successive small knocks sounded against the door. “I know you’re here. Please open the door.”

Jurina flipped around, her heart racing: there was no mistake possible. Paralyzed with shock, she remained seated on her chair, not knowing how to react. More than anything, she wanted to stick to her initial decision to stay as far away as possible from Rena until the moment was right. Unfortunately, it was a complicated task to shut down her inner voice wishing for the complete opposite.

“R-Rena…” Jurina’s voice quivered. “What are you doing here?”

“Akane told me that you’re very nervous. I had to come and see you.”

The revelation caused some discomfort to Jurina. “She shouldn’t have told you that. I’m fine, really. And you can’t be here. We agreed not to see each other before the wedding, remember?”

“Yes, we did. But there was no part in this agreement that said we couldn’t meet, right?”

“I don’t… I don’t understand.” Jurina was perplexed.

“Do you trust me?”

The question definitely took her by surprise. Jurina wondered why Rena was asking her such a silly thing, when she already knew the answer. “Of course, I do.” A glowing warmth spread through her at the thought of her eternal devotion for the girl standing on the other side of the door. “With my life.”

“Then please trust me when I ask you to open. I’ll close my eyes, and you’ll do the same.”

It took Jurina a few seconds to process the suggestion. “You will?” Her voice filled with a mixture of hesitation and hope.

“Yes, you have my word.”

Rena’s last promise managed to get the best of her resolve, and Jurina got up on her feet. A wave of anticipation swept through her as her steps led her towards the door, extending her hand once she was within reach. Seizing the handle, she felt a brief flicker of doubt. Shutting her eyes close, she pulled the door open. Jurina moved backwards, a pair of footsteps not hesitating to approach. The door was carefully shut closed, feet inching forward the following moment.

Jurina’s hands had come up automatically, and she took a step nearer. Tentatively, she raised her hands towards Rena’s face, lightly touching her cheeks. Her hand moved on its own volition from her cheek to her jawline. Then, she stroked her hair lightly, deducing her fiancée’s hairdo when she felt it resting above Rena’s left shoulder. She took a step nearer and, slowly, she slid her arms around her waist and drew her towards her gently. With a sigh of pleasure, she settled her chin upon Rena’s shoulder.

“I missed you. I missed you so much.” Jurina was unable to keep the ache of longing out of her voice.

“I missed you too.” Rena placed a kiss on her cheek and wrapped her arms around Jurina’s neck, bringing them closer. Her hands played across Jurina’s back and shoulders, caressing her in slow, gentle motions. She allowed the embrace to continue a little longer, then disentangled herself from the hug.

Rena’s breath was warm and soft against her cheek, and Jurina’s heart pounded, feeling their lips a few inches apart. Jurina resisted for a moment, wanting to gauge Rena’s intent. Yet something pulled on her, like an unseen force. The desire to bring their lips together and taste them overwhelmed her. Jurina gently laid her lips on hers, a warm sensation spreading through her the instant their mouths connected.

Feeling the passion in the kiss exchanged made Jurina realized that she hadn’t been the only one craving for such physical proximity. They peeled themselves apart from one another to breathe but never let each other go. Jurina’s eyes remained closed as she kissed her deeper and held on tighter, savoring the sweet depths of her warm mouth. It asked her all the willpower in the world to not open her eyes and examine her beautiful features, conscious she would regret it later if she succumbed to the temptation.

“I want to see you so badly,” Jurina whispered against her mouth, kissing her.

“Does it mean we can open our eyes and see each other?”

“No, we can’t.” Jurina kissed the hollow of her collarbone, feeling the throbbing pulse in her neck. She nibbled on her earlobe, provoking a moan. “And that’s your punishment for even suggesting it.”

“If that’s my punishment,” Rena purred, tightening her hold around Jurina’s shoulders. “Then I might be tempted to suggest it again.”

Jurina groaned, not believing her fiancée’s cheeky attitude. She drew back and leaned closer to claim her lips once more. “I think…” she managed to hold herself at the very last moment. “I think we better stop. The ceremony is in half an hour, and I don’t want us to get carried away.”

“It’s not as if the ceremony will start without us. But you’re probably right. I should return to my room if I want to finish in time. And you’ll need to check yourself in the mirror for any trace of lipsticks.”

Jurina laughed.

“You should have told me the truth,” Rena chided her gently as she pulled back. “You’re not the only one being nervous.”

Jurina was astonished by the revelation.

Rena cupped Jurina’s face between her hands. “And please stop worrying. Everything will be alright.”

Even with their eyes closed, Jurina could feel Rena’s smile as she kissed her tenderly one last time. Jurina was so terribly tempted to snap her eyes open. She held on as best as she could, waiting as she heard the door opening and footsteps drawing away, the door slowly shutting close the following moment. Her eyes sprang open, and she released a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding. As she listened to the sound of Rena’s footsteps fading away into the distance, Jurina repeated to herself that it was all worth the wait. Nevermind how difficult it had been to stand by her decision during those last 24 hours, she knew that her patience would soon be rewarded.

******

The organ music played and the murmur of voices inside the ceremony room died away, all conversations ceasing at once. Slowly, the large doors creaked opened, all heads turning in unison in the direction of the other bride’s arrival. Jurina stepped forward from her standing position next to the altar, craning her neck to look for her. For a moment, it felt as if time had been suspended. Jurina managed to put something of a brave face, but inside, she was a ball of nerves.

The irony of the situation struck her hard. How come that she, Jurina Matsui, who took pride in having no difficulty singing and dancing with confidence in front of a full stadium of 40 000 fans, felt completely overwhelmed when it came to committing - in front of a small group of people composed of their families and friends - to the person she loved? Stomach churning, heart beating wildly, she waited in a mixture of apprehension and anticipation for her future wife to arrive.

That’s when she appeared in the open door.

The sight of Rena, her beautiful fiancée clad in the most resplendent white lace half-sleeved wedding dress she had ever seen, managed to take her breath away. Across the room, their eyes met, and she trembled slightly at the tender expression upon Rena’s face. The silent control, the gentle smile Rena was sending her. At that précised moment, Jurina couldn’t think of a time she’d ever been happier.

It would have been impossible for Rena to ignore all the pairs of eyes riveted on hers as she entered the ceremony room. Keeping her composure, she tried her best not to be destabilized by the attention she was receiving. Instinctively, her gaze sought to meet the one she was about to link her fate. And that’s when she saw her, Jurina, standing at the altar, her face beaming with adoration, her loving eyes fixated on her and no one else.

Rena’s heart leaped with happiness.

Rena took a deep steadying breath and marched, one slow step at a time. For some reason, the aisle seemed a thousand miles long. From her peripheral vision, she recognized a few former SKE members standing at the back; Kumi, Yuria, Masana and Yuka, to name a few. She progressed further, other acquaintances and friends of theirs appearing in her field vision; Mariko, Yosuke, but also Yuki and Mayu.

At every step she took, she felt her heart hammering against her ribs even more rapidly, betraying her inner agitation. At her passage, Rena witnessed the loving smiles from her family, and the look of affection Jurina’s mother sent her way. A warm glow of gratitude coursed through her body. The presence of their respective families here today proved once more that her union with Jurina was not only accepted, but had been both blessed and approved.

As she reached the altar where the marriage officiant waited for her, Rena paused and turned around to face Jurina.

They quietly stood in front of each other, and a sense of awe swept over Jurina. She allowed herself to visually admire her, spellbound by Rena’s captivating beauty, and the gentle makeup sharpening and refining her delicate features. She brought a closer look at the white lace wedding dress she was wearing. She marveled at the finery work of the flowery pattern of it, which covered Rena’s chest and half-sleeved shoulders, and ran all the way down to the bottom of her dress. At this instant, Jurina knew with absolute certainty that she had been right to be patient. Discovering here and now Rena’s dress rendered this unique moment even more impactful.

Jurina traveled up back to her face, and stared up into the small brown orbs so close to hers. Jurina’s eyes clung to hers, unable to look away. She distinguished the nervousness Rena had described during their previous, brief meeting in the dressing room. Here it was, carefully hidden behind a mask of apparent composure and self-assurance, but betrayed by the rapid fluttering of Rena’s eyelids.

Rena didn’t know who took the initiative, but their hands connected on their own volition. The gesture held so many different meanings. It expressed their mutual love and devotion, but also the attempt to reassure and calm one another during such a significant, yet not devoid of stress, moment of their life. Rena had not a clue what kind of outfit her fiancée would be wearing today. Jurina had preserved the secret well, hiding it at Akane’s place to make sure she wouldn’t stumble upon it by accident.

Rena was conscious of her own faintly tremulous fingers, but she refused to let go. Jurina was gleaming with such joy, that it sent her pulses racing. Rena studied her dress, appreciating how elegant and feminine it was. She noted every single aspect of her appearance, from the precious earrings and necklace, to the delicate veil falling down her back. Rena knew that Jurina had been extra careful in making her appearance as perfect as possible, not that she expected any less from her.

The organ music stopped and, letting go of each other’s hands, both turned to face the marriage officiant as he spoke.

“Dear friends and family, we are gathered here today to witness and celebrate the union of Rena Matsui and Jurina Matsui in marriage. Through their time together, they have come to realize that their personal dreams, hopes, and goals are more attainable and more meaningful through the combined effort and mutual support provided in love, commitment, and family; and so today, they will begin their life together, as wife and wife.”

Jurina’s eyes were fixed on the marriage officiant, but she couldn’t disregard the sound of her heart pounding erratically. It required great self-restraint on her behalf to not lose focus. All she desired was to chance another glance at her special person. How long had she been in love with Rena? She didn’t have a clear answer to that question. Yet she knew precisely when she became fully aware of it. That day at the beach, when she and Rena had exchanged a kiss for the purpose of a SKE videoclip, had been a revelatory moment for her. But Jurina was conscious that her feelings for Rena went back way before that.

She was a kid with boundless energy when they crossed path for the very first time. Rena was six years older than her, almost a young adult. They were complete opposite. Shy, introvert, quiet. While Jurina enjoyed a talkative chat with the other members, Rena preferred to sit alone in a secluded area of the room, immerged in a game on her Nintendo DS. Up until now, Jurina couldn’t explain why she had been so irresistibly drawn to her. Was it her wish to help the other girl integrate? Or her desire to get along with the one who had been chosen by management to be her double center?

None of those reasons would ever explain the strong feelings that had arisen in her. Against her will, something had blossomed in her naïve heart. Intense emotions she had buried deep inside her. Feelings she had refused to confess, for fear of rejection. Until that evening of January 2015, after the AKB48 Tokyo Dome concert. Rena’s tears had begun to fall in a downpour, releasing her inner emotions when she confessed and reciprocated her feelings in that hotel room.

“True marriage is more than simply joining two persons together through the bonds of matrimony. It is also the union of two hearts and the blending of two families. It lives on the love you give each other and never grows old, but also thrives on the joy of each new day. Marriage is, and should be, an expression of love. May you always be able to talk things over, to confide in each other, to laugh with each other, to enjoy life together, and to also share those moments of quiet and peace, when the day is done. May you be blessed with a lifetime of happiness and a home of warmth and understanding.”

While the marriage officiant was reminding them about the reason of their presence, Rena’s thoughts drifted away. It struck her how far they had gone and how much she and Jurina had accomplished these past 13 years. Whether as partners on stage on in real life, happiness and sadness had been part of their journey. They had laughed and cried together. Had learned to accept their mutual differences. Witnessed their love growing and their relationship maturing. At some point, their paths had diverged, their hearts never ceasing to beat for each other all along, until a twist of fate reunited them.

Was it destiny, that had brought them together during this Summer of 2008? When they met for the very first time, and would become for many years to come the iconic WCenter of one of the most successful idol groups in Japan? Was it destiny that had, when all seemed lost, made their paths cross after three years of separation? Rena didn’t have any clear answer to those questions. During all these years, it seemed their respective fates had been closely intertwined, leading them to that precise moment in time.

The marriage officiant paused his speech, Rena understanding that the exchange of vows had arrived when Jurina faced her back with expectation. Rena couldn’t help despite herself but reach forward and gently take her hands inside hers. She wanted to convince herself that it was her simple way of giving Jurina a little strength and confidence. After all, she didn’t need to get inside her fiancée’s head to guess her apprehension. However, she was conscious that the spontaneous gesture was also partly selfish, a small part of her hoping it would help her reduce some of her own stress.

When the marriage officiant turned towards Jurina and spoke, his voice seemed to fill the void of silence with something grand and portentous. “Do you take Rena Matsui as your lawful wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish until death do you part?”

Jurina laced their fingers together, her whole face spreading into a smile as she opened her mouth to speak. “I do. I promise to always be there for you, to shelter and hold your love as the most precious gift in my life. I will be truthful and honor you, as I embrace as the most important part of my life. I will care for you always and stand by you in times of sorrow and joy, forever nurturing the love I feel for you.”

The marriage officiant settled his attention on Rena next. “Do you take Jurina Matsui as your lawful wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish until death do you part?”

A soft and loving curve touched Rena’s lips. “I do. I promise to always be there for you, to shelter and hold your love as the most precious gift in my life. I will be truthful and honor you, as I embrace as the most important part of my life. I will care for you always and stand by you in times of sorrow and joy, forever nurturing the love I feel for you.”

At the discreet head signal of the marriage officiant, both maids of honor stepped forward, carrying the wedding rings on white little satin pillows.

“Wedding rings are made precious by our wearing them,” the marriage officiant went on, announcing the next crucial and most anticipated phase of the ceremony. “Your rings say that even in your uniqueness you have chosen to be bound together. Let these rings also be a sign that love has substance as well as soul, a present as well as a past, and that, despite its occasional sorrows, love is a circle of happiness, wonder, and delight. May these rings remind you always of the vows you have taken here today.”

Jurina’s nerves tensed; she directed her attention to the pillow brought to her. Carefully, she retrieved the ruby and diamond wedding ring laying on the top. It was a perfect match to the ring Rena had given to her during her romantic proposal in Paris. Lifting Rena’s hand, she placed the ring on her finger. “I give you this ring, a symbol of my love, as I give to you, all that I am, and accept from you, all that you are.”

Rena recovered the sapphire and diamond wedding band from the pillow presented to her, the couple smiling together as Jurina’s finger was pushed up as Rena put the ring on her finger. “I give you this ring, a symbol of my love, as I give to you, all that I am, and accept from you, all that you are.”

The marriage officiant’s voice resonated in the ceremony room for his final words. “And now, by the power vested in me, I hereby pronounce you wife and wife. You may kiss your bride.”

The couple’s eyes glittered with emotion; it was almost too much happiness to bear for both of them. They leaned forward and pressed their lips together, sealing their union with a kiss of eternal commitment.

******

Airi quirked an eyebrow, drawing closer to an unenthusiastic Akane standing alone with a bouquet of flowers in hands next to the gift table. “I hope one day you’ll present me the lucky one.”

“Stop it,” Akane growled. “I want to get rid of it, but I’m afraid Rena will take it the wrong way.”

“Get rid of it? Why? It’s a lovely bouquet.” Airi bent down to take a sharp inhale of the flowers secured in the bridesmaid’s hands: a perfect mixture of fresh blue forget-me-nots, white lilies and red roses. “And not to mention, personally handled it you by the bride. It’s offensive to even think of such a terrible thing.”

Akane rolled her eyes at her mischievous expression. “She didn’t handle it to me, it was pure coincidence.” She could vividly remember her shock when Rena had tossed the bouquet over her shoulder, and it had landed in her hands. Everyone had turned in her direction and clapped, congratulating her for her triumphant catch. To not give away her unease, Akane had mustered her best polite smile, especially when Rena and Jurina had both beamed at her with pride and joy.

“I don’t believe in coincidences.” Airi shook her head in disapproval. “I think everything happens for a reason.”

Akane followed her friend’s gaze as it landed on the young married couple going from table to table and conversing with their guests.

“Look at them. Can you believe that their paths crossed more than 10 years ago? They were brought up together, then circumstances separated them, until they got reunited again. What does it say to you?”

“So…” Akane pondered, then continued with a slight joking tone. “You also believe like Jurina that it was destiny?”

“Why not? If it wasn’t destiny, then what was it? If there’s one thing that this wedding proves, it is that they were meant for each other.”

Akane was at a loss for words.

“So no, you cannot throw away the bouquet.” Airi’s eyes flickered between a dumbfounded Akane and the wedding flowers she was awkwardly holding. “Not only it would be rude and disrespectful to the bride, you would be ignoring a sign the universe is manifestly sending you,” Airi added playfully, then delicately touched Akane’s hand. “Promise you will keep it? It would make me sad if you didn’t.”

Akane was about to say no, yet for some strange unknown reason, her head ended up saying the opposite and nodding in agreement. A smile of pleasure plastered Airi’s features. Akane let out a despondent sigh, watching her friend walking away and disappearing into the crowd. Despite herself, Akane couldn’t help but look down to her bouquet of flowers, Airi’s previous words coming back to her mind. As long as Akane recalled, she never believed in such things as meant to be or destiny. She brought her attention back to the happy newlywed couple, cursing Airi for the tinge of doubt filling her.

******

Yuki beamed with admiration. “Look at them. Jurina and Rena look… they look so happy. So beautiful and pure in those elegant white dresses.”

“Pure, huh…” Mayu, who was standing by Yuki’s side, tapped her index finger against her chin. “I think I know what they are going to do this evening when they get home, and I’m almost sure it doesn’t involve anything pure.”

Yuki’s jaw dropped in shock. “M-Mayuyu! My God, you are impossible!”

“What? What did I say?” Mayu threw her a puzzled look.

“Why did you have to put this kind of image in my mind again?!” Yuki buried her face between her hands in despair.

“Eh? What image?”

Yuki frowned at her, suspicion arising. “Nevermind. I need to find a way to clear my head, and you are not helping. I need to find something to do.” She looked around them, an expression of victory flashing through her eyes when they locked on the kitchen door. “I know! I’ll go and check how they are doing with the wedding cake.”

“Sure, see you later.” Mayu shot her an amused look, not feeling ashamed in the slightest about her mischievous deed. Why would she be? Her wife was way too cute when she was flustered.

******

Following the wedding ceremony, everyone had been invited to take a seat at the dinner tables. During the course of the meal, Jurina and Rena’s bridesmaids, friends and families had taken turns in sharing stories – some touching, others lighter and amusing – about the recently newlywed Matsui couple. The meal went on pleasantly, accompanied by occasional pictures and videos representing moments of their life, and facilitated by the discretion and professionalism of the hotel staff.

They had finished eating the main dish and were taking a small break, a festive, joyful music playing in the background while waiting for the decisive moment of the cutting of the wedding cake. After sharing a few words with her family, then with her guests, Rena had wandered around the room. She took time to admire the remarkable work the staff had accomplished with the decoration of the place. Her steps lead her to the gift table, impressed by the quantity of presents they had received for their wedding.

Rena glanced over her shoulder in Jurina’s direction. Her new wife was immerged in her conversation with Mariko. As soon as the break had been announced, the guests had slowly dispersed in the room, and Jurina had checked with her if she didn’t mind her spending some time with Mariko. Rena had given her immediate consent, more than aware how much Jurina had deeply missed the older girl. For more than a year, the former AKB idol had been absent from Japan, living and taking English classes in Great Britain.

“Congratulations on your wedding.”

Rena snapped out of her reverie. At the view of the male actor clad in a black tuxedo, her mouth tugged into a smile of pleasure. “Thank you, Yosuke. But you don’t need to congratulate me again. You already congratulated Jurina and I after the ceremony, remember?”

“I know, but I wanted to do it once more. Thank you for inviting me and Tsuzumi. It’s a beautiful wedding.”

“You don’t need to thank me,” Rena protested softly. “I’m glad you both could come. I know it wasn’t easy to free yourself with the shooting of your new drama in Korea.”

“I do feel a bit like an idiot though,” Yosuke went on with an amused look. “I had the answer right in front of me, but I refused to see it.”

“I don’t understand,” Rena admitted her confusion. “What do you mean?”

“When we shot Destiny, I would often find you on the phone with Jurina. At the time, I didn’t think too much of it. I didn’t think much of it either at the award ceremony, when I saw you so proud of Jurina’s victory at the General Election. I believed you were being supportive of a former colleague. All I saw was a strong relationship between two people who cared about each other. But it went way beyond that. She wasn’t a colleague or a friend; she was the one you loved.”

Rena became conscious of a growing discomfort. “I’m sorry for taking so long to tell you the truth. When you and I first met, Jurina was still an idol, and only a handful of people knew about our relationship. I realize I should have told you sooner, but…”

“You don’t need to apologize.” Yosuke shook his head, smiling. “Trust me. I perfectly understand the circumstances. You deserve the best, and I can see Jurina makes you very happy. So again, please allow me to congratulate you on your beautiful wedding. I hope we can soon find a spare moment in our mutual busy schedules to meet the four of us around dinner?”

“I would love that. Let me guess: you heard about a new Korean restaurant opening in Tokyo recently?” Rena teased him.

Yosuke let out a small laugh. “Oh no, don’t worry. No Korean food. I’m afraid Tsuzumi doesn’t share my passion for it either.”

******

“I knew this day would happen,” Mariko said with a smug look on her face.

Jurina shot her an incredulous look. “What? No, you didn’t!”

“Of course, I did,” Mariko scoffed. “I have a sixth sense for those things. Remember when Acchan announced her wedding? I had predicted it.”

“You didn’t predict anything, she told you!”

“Okay, maybe she did, but I had seen it coming. Don’t contradict me, you cheeky girl!” Mariko gave her arm a playful slap. “Don’t forget that I flew all the way from London to be here today.”

Jurina’s expression softened. “I know, and I’m so happy you could make it. I don’t think I could have gotten married without you by my side.”

“What are you talking about?” The corners of Mariko’s mouth turned up in a mischievous expression. “Of course, you could have. You need one person to get married, and she now has your wedding ring on her finger.”

“You know what I mean. This wedding wouldn’t have been the same if everyone I care about wasn’t present.” Jurina paused for a breath, emotion taking hold of her. “My family, my friends, even former members of AKB and SKE. I still can’t believe… I still can’t believe so many people came.”

“They wouldn’t want to miss the wedding of the year,” Mariko said on a light, playful tone. She held Jurina’s chin in the cradle between her thumb and forefinger. “Nothing could have prevented me from coming to your wedding.”

Jurina fell into her arms and held her tight. “Thank you for always being here for me during all these years.”

“You have nothing to thank me about.” Mariko returned the embrace. “I love you, Jurina. And I know you and Rena will be very happy. If you ask me, it was about time you both tied to knot. I was starting to get a little impatient.”

“Idiot,” Jurina gave a muffled laugh against her shoulder.

“Speaking of your wife. I’m sure Rena believes she’s being discreet, but she hasn’t stopped peeking in our direction for the past five minutes. I think the message is clear that she needs you.”

Jurina slowly pulled away and followed Mariko’s gaze, indeed noticing Rena watching them from afar.

Mariko gave Jurina’s arm a light, encouraging push. “Go and see her. Enjoy yourself. This is a special day for both of you. You need to spend it together as much as possible.”

“But…” Jurina trailed off, hesitant to already leave Mariko’s side when they hadn’t seen each other in almost a year.

Mariko seemed to read her mind. “I’m staying in Japan for two weeks, remember? We’ll have plenty opportunities to catch up. Send me a text, and I’ll be here.”

“Thank you,” Jurina murmured softly, giving her another tight hug. “I want to know all about your stay in England!”

“Oh, trust me, you will know everything. I won’t leave out a single detail. Not even about the bad food and the terrible weather.” Mariko gave her arm another push, rewarded with a long slow grin. Jurina turned on her heels, and Mariko’s gaze bored into the younger girl’s retreating back. She exhaled a sigh of contentment, proud of what her precious 11-year-old Jurina had become.

******

Jurina didn’t miss the mysterious twinkle in Rena’s eyes as she indicated her with a discreet nod of the head to follow her. Both soon found themselves in an unoccupied, annex room of the hotel. Jurina regarded her in curiosity while Rena carefully shut the door closed behind them, linking their hands. She led them towards the small balcony, and a dreamy smile plastered Jurina’s features at the sight greeting her. The hotel was situated at the 22nd floor of the building, the altitude enabling them to benefit from a breathtaking nightly panoramic view of the city of Nagoya.

Jurina’s gaze swept over the city, taking in the sights, the illuminated buildings and the starry dark sky above their heads. Her attention settled on one district in particular when she caught a glimpse of the big wheel of Sakae. Ah yes, Sakae. SKE48’s birthplace. Where they had both made their debut on that small theater stage. Sakae. The place where they both had hoped for their dreams to become true. Where they had fought so hard to make of SKE a successful idol group.

All their efforts had paid off, hadn’t they?

Jurina glanced sideways, quietly observing the beautiful girl admiring the view with her. No, Rena wasn’t a girl. That term was inadequate; it didn’t fit her description anymore. Rena was a woman, but not any ordinary woman. She was the person she had vowed, in front of their families and friends, to love and cherish for the rest of her life.

“Why did you bring me here?” Jurina asked sweetly, not letting go of her hand. “I love the view, it’s beautiful, but everyone will wonder where we disappeared.”

“We haven’t been able to be alone since we got married. And that was three hours ago. I wanted to find us some moment of privacy to find out how you were doing. How are you feeling?”

Jurina released a blissful sigh and drew her deep into her arms. “I’m happy, Rena. I’m so happy. But I will need some time to get used to certain things.”

“Oh…” Rena stroked her hair affectionately, then looked deeply into her eyes, smiling brightly. “Things like what?”

“I guess…” Jurina gazed at her with slight apprehension, fearing she might find it a bit ridiculous. “I guess I’m still not used to hearing people calling us wives.”

“Oh, I see…” Rena murmured pensively. “Well, you will need to get used to it.” She leaned closer, kissing her gently on the forehead. “Because we are married now.”

“Yes, we are.” Jurina could hardly contain her happiness. It almost felt like her heart was ready to explode right out of her chest at any minute.

Jurina tilted her head to the side and leaned in, closing her eyes, kissing her on the lips. Rena hugged her closer as the kiss lasted, the two of them embracing each other. They stayed in that position for a long time, their lips gently pulling at the other’s, their arms around each other, refusing to let go. “Will you dance with me?”

“Dance?” Rena repeated in disbelief. “Here? Now? But there’s no music.”

Silence enveloped them, until the music playing in the dining room reached them from afar. Jurina flashed a grin. “You were saying?”

Rena laughed, nodding in agreement. Jurina pulled her close, Rena gently leaning her head on her shoulder as they swayed together in rhythm with the slow ballad.

The look of love

Is saying so much more than

Just words could every say

And what my heart has heard

Well it takes my breath away

The two of them alone, enjoying each other’s presence and warmth as they danced on the soft, romantic song playing in the background, made it feel like no one else but them existed in the world.

“I wanted to ask,” Rena whispered in her ear after a while, breaking the comfortable silence they had settled in. “Where do you want to go for our honeymoon?”

“I haven’t thought about it...” Jurina idly caressed Rena’s back through the fabric of her wedding dress, as she seemed lost in a dream. “What about you? Is there any place in particular you would like to go?”

“Oh, I do. Like Spain, Italy, maybe Germany and Ireland too. I haven’t been to South America either.”

Jurina looked back at her with a smile of amazement. “So basically, you want to travel all around the world for our honeymoon. I don’t think that will be possible with the limited free time we have.”

“Oh, right,” Rena pretended to think. “I thought it might be a little difficult too.”

They shared a laugh.

“I know! Why not Hawaii?”

Pulling away slightly, Rena gave her a startled look. “Hawaii? Why?”

“It’s not too far, and we’ve already been there. You enjoyed it, didn’t you?”

“Not too far? It’s more than 7 hours by plane,” Rena pointed out, finding her explanation a little odd. “And we went there to do a shooting for AKB. We stayed there how long? Three days? It’s not as if we had time to do much sightseeing.”

“Exactly! We didn’t! That’s why I always wanted to return one day. I also want to make another stop at that shop you bought my favorite tee-shirt. I want us to have matching ones.”

Rena couldn’t contain her laughter. “Ah, so that’s the reason. You really believe they still have that tee-shirt after all these years? How do we know the shop even still exists?”

“I’m sure it does!” Jurina said confidently. “And no, that’s not the only reason why I want to go to Hawaii. Mayu showed me pictures when she and Yuki returned from their honeymoon. The beaches are beautiful, and they had a spacious hotel room with a jacuzzi.”

“I think Yuki also mentioned something about it,” Rena mused. “We will need to think about it more carefully before making any final decision, but I guess Hawaii could be a nice destination for our honeymoon.”

The door opened abruptly, shattering their moment of peace.

“Here you are!” An agitated Yuki walked in. “I searched you everywhere. The staff says the cake is ready.”

“We’ll be here in a minute,” Rena said with a grateful smile.

Yuki exited the room and Jurina breathed a small sigh of regret. Her cherished time alone with Rena had visibly come to an end. “I guess… I guess it’s time to go back.”

Jurina took a step backwards but Rena quickly caught her hand, entwining their fingers. “It can wait a few more minutes.”

Jurina smiled knowingly at her inviting look and didn’t hesitate to invade her personal space, gently wrapping her arms around her waist. She inched her face closer until their lips were less than an inch apart, Rena’s sweet mandarin orange perfume teasing her nose. Her eyes darted between Rena’s eyes and lips, feeling the flutter in her stomach deepen at Rena’s smile full of love and tenderness. Leaning forward, she tried to capture her mouth, groaning when Rena took malicious pleasure in avoiding her lips.

Rena would never admit it out loud, but she always enjoyed teasing Jurina, finding way too adorable the pout that never failed to appear on Jurina’s lips when she didn’t manage to have it her way. Rena cupped her face, making her meet her gaze. For a moment, they held one another’s gaze, Rena’s wedding ring gently brushing against her skin as she caressed Jurina’s cheek. Her fingers grazed lightly over her nose, then down her mouth, her thumb tracing the shape of her lips, before lowering her head and pressing her lips to hers with the slightest of pressure.

None of them manifested the desire to break the embrace as they shared a deep, lingering kiss, their hearts beating as one. They felt a little dizzy, their hearts swelling with pride and happiness. Even in their wildest dreams, never could they have hoped of finding a better partner for life. On that day of Summer 2008, destiny might have smiled upon them, forever linking their fates and hearts.

END

#wmatsui #matsui jurina #matsui rena #wmatsui fanfic #SKE48 #Watanabe Mayu #Kashiwagi Yuki #furukawa airi #takayanagi akane #AKB48 #Heartbeat trilogy #destiny #epilogue #last chapter

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celebritylive · 4 years

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Taylor Swift‘s highly anticipated Netflix documentary Miss Americana is now available for streaming — and the pop star’s fans will find the film delivers.

The 30-year-old singer unveiled the movie at the 2020 Sundance Film Festival on Jan. 23 to praise from fans and critics alike.

From tackling her recent public political stance to shying away from showing off too much of her relationship with boyfriend Joe Alwyn, Swift provides her fans with a glimpse inside of her complicated life.

RELATED: Nikki Glaser Apologizes to Taylor Swift for Body Shaming Comments Included in Miss Americana Documentary

Here’s everything we’ve learned from Miss Americana.

1. Swift struggled with an eating disorder early in her career.

The pop singer opened up about feeling “triggered” by paparazzi photos of herself in an intimate moment in the film.

“I’ve learned over the years it’s not good for me to see pictures of myself every day because I have a tendency… I tend to get triggered by something whether it’s a picture where I feel like it looked like my tummy is too big or where someone said I looked pregnant,” Swift revealed.

She added, “That’ll just trigger me to starve a little bit, just stop eating.”

Now, Swift says, she’s managed to find a place where she feels happy with her body and doesn’t put too much thought on images of her that circulate around the Internet.

“I don’t care as much if someone points out that I’ve gained weight,” she said. “There’s always some standard of beauty that you’re not meeting. It’s all just f—ing impossible.”

RELATED: Taylor Swift Opens Up About an Eating Disorder She Previously Battled, Says Paparazzi Photos Were a ‘Trigger’

2. Fans will see how the pop star creates her music and lyrics.

Swift gave director Lana Wilson unprecedented access to her music sessions while at the recording studio. The singer admitted she’d never had anyone with her in the studio that she wasn’t collaborating with during a Q&A after the premiere at Sundance.

“I didn’t want to know if it would stop me from feeling like I could come up with ideas and feeling like I could throw things out,” Swift said. “And there’s so much ridiculous-sounding ad-libbing that you do when you’re writing songs. So much of it sounds ridiculous until it sounds all right.”

She continued, “And a lot of that time, I would just always refuse to have any cameras in the studio whenever I write because I just feel like, what if I can’t do it. A then you’ve wasted a day and then I’ve wasted another creator’s time, I’ve wasted my producers time, I’ve wasted a co-writers time and I can’t write if somebody’s there.”

3. How she decided to go public with her political views.

In the documentary, Swift travels to her home state of Tennessee before the local elections to encourage people to register to vote and to also raise awareness as to how then-Senatorial candidate, Republican Marsha Blackburn, was anti-gay marriage, anti-gay rights and for rolling back protections for women when it came to domestic violence and stalking.

In a powerful scene, Swift and her mother, Andrea, attend a board meeting with members of her organization, including her father, Scott, to convince them to allow her to go public with her stance against Blackburn.

With her mother’s backing, Swift tearfully tells the all-male group, “I’m saying right now that I’m doing something that I know is right and I need to be on the right side of history.”

When Blackburn won the senatorial race, however, Swift was shocked and vowed to help increase voter turnout for the 2020 elections — as well as the release of a new political anthem, “Only the Young.”

RELATED: Taylor Swift Releases New Political Anthem ‘Only the Young’ — Listen Now

4. On keeping her relationship with Joe Alwyn private.

While Alwyn was hardly seen in the film — except for a hug he gives Swift after one of her concert performances — the singer says he helped her in the aftermath of the scandal involving Kim Kardashian West and Kanye West.

“I had to deconstruct an entire belief system for my own personal sanity. I was also falling in love with someone who had a really wonderfully normal, balanced, grounded life,” she said.

“We decided together that we wanted our relationship to be private,” Swift added.

There are hints of Alwyn in the documentary, though. A montage of clips shot by the actor is shown, including Swift laughing as she tells him “I love you” while singing “Call It What You Want,” enjoying private dates in nature and the singer blowing out candles on a birthday cake.

“It was happiness without anyone else’s input. It was just … we were happy,” Swift said.

5. Why winning the trial against a former radio host who groped her didn’t feel like a victory.

In 2017, Swift countersued against former radio host David Mueller for $1 after he claimed in his lawsuit against her that she had gotten him fired.

Despite having the judge dismiss Mueller’s lawsuit, Swift said it was more of an ordeal than a win.

“I was so angry. I was angry that I had to be there,” she said. “I was angry that this happens to women. I was angry that people are paid to antagonize victims.”

Swift continued, “You don’t feel a sense of any victory when you win because the process is so dehumanizing.”

Following the trial, Swift shared a touching moment with her mother backstage at one of her concerts. Hugging her daughter, Andrea sobbed in Swift’s arms after her court win and explained how proud she was that she’d defended herself.

Swift hugged her mother back and comforted her, saying, “It’s OK, now.”

6. She didn’t discover burritos until her late 20s — and has a genius way of adding extra “crunch.”

During a recording session for her Lover album, Swift revealed she’d never eaten a burrito “until like two years ago.”

Enjoying a burrito during a lunch break, she showed a recording producer how she added extra “crunch” by adding a tortilla chip inside the burrito and taking a bite.

7. Revealing she felt “trained” to be good from an early age.

In the first few minutes of Miss Americana, home videos of Swift from her childhood are shown across the screen as it chronicles her early beginnings as a singer-songwriting all the way until she found success.

Swift explained she was “trained to be happy” since her childhood, adding the lesson wasn’t always a good one.

“My entire moral code as a kid and now is a need to be thought of as ‘good,'” she said. “It was all I wrote about, it was all I wanted, it was a complete and total belief system that I subscribed to as a kid.”

She continued, “And obviously, I’m not a perfect person by any stretch but overall the main thing that I always tried to do was just be a good girl. I became the person who everyone wanted me to be.”

RELATED: Taylor Swift Reveals She’s Felt Like People ‘Lean in with … Hunger’ When She’s Felt ‘Humiliated’

8. Feeling she couldn’t “bounce back from” the Kimye scandal.

When West released his notorious 2016 song “Famous” with the lyrics, “I feel like me and Taylor might still have sex Why? I made that bitch famous,” Swift responded saying she had not been aware the rapper would call her a derogatory name.

In response, Kardashian West released an edited video of her husband on the phone with Swift, acknowledging the “sex” part of the song. West insisted that Swift approved the lyric, though a rep for Swift said, “Kanye did not call for approval, but to ask Taylor to release his single ‘Famous’ on her Twitter account. She declined and cautioned him about releasing a song with such a strong misogynistic message. Taylor was never made aware of the actual lyric, ‘I made that bitch famous.’ “

Swift recalled the aftermath of the scandal in the documentary, saying, “When people decided I was wicked and evil and conniving and not a good person, that was the one I couldn’t really bounce back from because my whole life was centered around it.”

RELATED: Taylor Swift Reveals Her Mom Andrea Has a Brain Tumor: ‘We Don’t Know What Is Going to Happen’

9. On her mother’s cancer.

Swift was dealt with another blow when her mother, Andrea, was diagnosed with cancer.

“That has been really hard for me because she is my favorite person,” the pop star. “It woke me up from this life where I used to sweat all these things, but like, do you really care if the Internet doesn’t like you today if your mom’s sick from her chemo?”

In a sweet moment, Andrea explains after her diagnosis she did something she’s “always wanted to do”: adopt a huge dog which she calls her “cancer dog.”

Swift explained the pup was also Andrea’s “third child, like a human-sized dog.”

RELATED: Taylor Swift Says Kanye West Moment ‘Burrowed Into My Psyche’ but She Doesn’t ‘Think Too Hard’ About It Now

10. How the 2009 VMAs made her feel like she didn’t belong.

Reliving the experience of West taking the microphone from her during her 2009 VMA acceptance speech, Swift said the moment was a crucial part of her life.

“It was so echo-y in there. At the time, I didn’t know they were booing him doing that,” she said. “I thought they were booing me.”

“For someone who has built their whole belief system on getting people to clap for you, the whole crowd booing is a pretty formative experience.”

She added, “That was a sort of catalyst for a lot of psychological paths that I went on and not all of them were beneficial. It was all fueled by me not feeling like I belonged there. I’m only here because I work hard and I’m nice to people.”

Miss Americana is now streaming on Netflix.

from PEOPLE.com https://ift.tt/2GEwewC

#Celebrity

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chickennoodlesoupfortae · 5 years

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Backstage Love P2

A/N- hey guys it’s part two and this chapter is really just a filler/bridge to make the story flow but the next part will be out in the soon future. I hope you enjoy this sort of slice of life.

Summary-You get invited to see BTS at their concert in your city by a friend. In a turn of events, you end up being rushed backstage mistaken for a crew member that is where you meet Taehyung. You now must figure out how to deal with the miscommunication.

Word count-1.2k

Warning- a little boring sorry the . next chapter will have more fluff and tae. this is necessary to the plot. :(

part one

There was a strange feeling in the pit of your stomach when the show finished. It was a mix of anxiety, butterflies, and guilt. “I don’t know (y/b/f/n), I don’t think I can go backstage again it was already so stressful the first time…” you start rambling “Come on sis, I know you can’t be serious.” she pulled you closer to her “I’m gonna stay back because you’re supposed to be an intern. Go and kill em tiger” she pushed you away You found your way through the crowd and to the end of the barricades. “Ma’am the concert is over the exit is that way.” the guard pointed in the other direction. “Ohh sorry.” you turned around cursing yourself for even thinking of doing all of that again. “(Y/n) what the hell are you doing? Get back here we need you to help manage the pack up.” You groaned in your head it was your boss, wait no she wasn’t your boss. ‘I’m just gonna tell her’ you thought to yourself. “I’m coming.” you hurried over. “I need you to hold this and follow me as I help get this show going, write down everything I tell you and everything I don’t. Ok? Sounds good.” You stopped her before she could start walking ahead “Ma’am you have me mistaken for someone else I believe, this is all just a big misunderstanding but I’m not your intern and I would like to remove myself from this situation before it goes any further than either of us want.” You looked at your shoes handing back the clipboard “I don’t understand are you like a sasaeng or something?” she looked at the clipboard as if looking for the answers there. “No, oh gosh no. I was lead here by security and then I got lost and mistaken for someone. I just wasn’t able to get my voice in all the commotion.” you were now looking at her. “I don’t know what to do, I can’t have you going and spreading this around that would look bad on my part.” she looked up from the clipboard and then scoping out your surrounding area. “Listen here what’s gonna happen.” she looked around the two of you again and then pulled you into a small crook in the hallway. “I’m gonna give you an opportunity no one has ever gotten this easily.” she lowered her voice into a whisper. “You can stay here and I’ll give you the job.” she widened her eyes as if asking you to nod, you nodded saying you understood. “But only if we never speak of this again and you sign a non-disclosure.” you didn’t respond not knowing what to say. “Or the other option is that I call the police for you impersonating a staff member and intruding on the staff’s privacy.” You knew what she was doing using fear tactics and manipulating you into doing what was best for her, but in this case what was best for her also gave you an amazing opportunity. “Of course Ms Miller we have to get on with our tasks” you grabbed the clipboard and pointed at the first bullet. “See here we have to go check on the managers of the venue and pay the final fees in the office on level three.” you used a business tone. “Right this was Ma’am” you started walking her to the elevators. “I’m so glad you decided to stay with us my (y/l/n)” The night was extraordinarily long not allowing you anytime to even call your friend and ask her if she got home safe. You walked to curb and sat down ordering yourself an uber trying to figure out how you were going to explain this to your family. You were eighteen but it was the summer before college so you hadn’t moved yet, at least this would give you some money to get you on your feet. You suddenly felt a hand on your shoulder. You let out a yelp and hit the person behind you. “Shesh (y/n) sorry” you looked back to see Tae shaking his wrist from where you had hit him. You stood up “Oh my lord I’m so sorry. I didn’t think it would be you or else.” you started turning red. “Well, I wouldn’t have hit you.” He started laughing, you just looked down feeling yourself get hot from embarrassment. “I just didn’t see you backstage and I wanted to ask you more about what you’re doing with the company,” he explained. Now sitting beside you. “I’m going to be an intern or more like a personal assistant ‘Ma’am’ basically just helping out with anything and everything. I’m pretty sure I’ll be here for the rest of the tour.” you smiled trying to leave the details as vague as possible in case you were wrong. Thankfully the uber pulled up. “Oh, here’s my ride. I’ll see you tomorrow.” you closed the door to the car letting out a sigh of relief. There was a tap on the window before the car could leave. You rolled down the window. “Where are you going? All staff usually stay at hotels with the group,” he asked eyes wide with curiosity. ‘Fuck what do I say now?’ “I have family in town and I wanted to get in a hello before we leave,” you said quickly “Well remember to be back before five so we don’t leave you behind.” he gave you his boxy smile and waved goodbye. As the car drove back into the city you realized what had just happened. You rushed into your house. “Hi,” you said going straight to a closet to pull out luggage “Where have you been (y/n) honey we were all so worried about you” your mom was sitting on the couch “I don’t have time to explain right now” you were carrying a luggage and duffel bag into your room. Immediately you started throwing in all your nice clothes barely organizing. It looked like you were fleeing the country or something at the pace you were going. “(y/n) where are you going?” your mom asked at the frame of your door. You groaned in response while opening your cabinets looking for your small makeup pouch. She walked over grabbing your hand. “Honey tell me what’s going on,” she asked now a little irritated “Oh my gosh ok.” you threw yourself on your bed looking at the ceiling. “I got offered a job to go on tour with the band I went to see tonight.” you stood back up and started closing the suitcase. You looked at the time “Fuck. No. it’s already three.” “You can’t just leave like this.” your mom yelled “I can and I am” you grabbed both bags and began to look around your room for anything else you might need. You grabbed a couple of loose ends and your polaroid. “Why do I need this,” you asked out loud while stuffing it into your tote bag. “I don’t it’s just stress” you opened your phone to see twenty email notifications. You ordered an uber back to the arena. For the first time that night you let yourself breath hugging your mom. “(y/n) you have to call me tomorrow as soon as this is over and explain yourself or else I will fly out to wherever you are and bring you back.” you laughed nodding into her shoulder “Okay, mom. I promise I will I just don’t have time right now.” you heard a honk outside. Your eyes started to water. “Bye mom I love you, tell everyone I love them and I’ll call them.” you walked out of your house and into the unknown, again.

#bts imagines #bts fanfic #bts taehyung #taehyung fic #fluff #backstage love #bts fluff #fanfic #taehyung fluff #Bts v

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youareeinlove · 6 years

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Ok Im gonna try to remember as mUCH as I can! (Also I cut my sister out because I didn`t know if she would want me to post her in it or not) Im also gonna put every little detail I can so I can look back on this and crY

So Taylornation contacted me Tuesday with the whole confidential message so of course I fliPPED out cried and gave them my information RIGHT away. They contacted me like a few hours not even (the same day) that Taylor liked @stumbleonhometomycats s post on the sideblog we share where she also queued like hUNDREDS of my tour post on there too ajshguhgijrweg. Like rIGHT after I got the dm she texted this to me

so of course I pretended like I didnt know whAT she was talking about because I wanted her to be completely surprised when I told her at the concert and she was and I got her reaction on video ajhguyhijfs which I will show you later in this post.

So on Wednesday I was looking out for a call from Taylor nation and I took and nap so I put my phone ringer all the way up next to my head so it could wake me up ajhugyhijwcd and it did but I was so out of it and trying to get to my mo that I MISSED the call! So I was just panicking and was like was it even them and I tried calling back three times the third time I left a message and told them my name which was good because like 5 minutes after they called back! So I answered and she said this is Taylornation and to keep everything confidential so I asked if I could tell my mom and she was like yeah of course! So like anyone does I was outside so I ran in the house to my mom and put the phone on speaker. They explained everything and they KNEW I was going to the concert on Saturday! They told me I could bring someone so I was going with my sister so I gave her my information. Then all that was left was to wait for the confirmation dm! Me still not being able to process I was just like ya know theres always a possibility something happens and you dont get that dm! But I still kept in mind that it very much could happen so I wrote a letter to Taylor because I knew if I did meet Taylor I`d blank (which I did but we`ll get to that lmaojhyuijfs) I also put my friend Tati @hoeofmyheart s memes in and envelope and I also sent some of you guys on here an ask on anon saying “If you could say anything to Taylor in 2 sentences what would you say 💛” and put that in a seperate envelope. So there were 3 seperate envelopes tied together in a ribbon! I also put gold stickers, snake stickers and a necklase in one of them and sealed the first letter in the front with one of the snake stickers.

So on Friday my mom was planning our trip to New Jersey because we live in long island NY so it would be a longish trip. So her and my dad were planning on staying in the city while me and my sister went to MetLife so she was looking at trains and the only option was gonna get me there at 5:15! and taylornation told me to be there BETWEEN 4-5 and right around this time while I was PANICING Taylornation dmed me that me and my guest were confirmed! So I literally BEGGED my parents to drive us because by car it only takes about 2 hours to get there. She finally AGREED! So fast foward to SATURDAY we left at 1:30 and got there around 3. While I was walking to willcall (where I had to go to get the envelope) I SAW SOFA @lov-eswift so we hUGGED and talked and she got glitter in my hair ajhyijkwhd I also got to meet @whyisntketchupasmoothie whos so nICE I love bELLA!!! So after me and my sister walk to willcall. We got there early so they didnt have them yet. So I texted @stumbleonhometomycats and was like where ARE you??? And she sent me her location and Im a dumbass so I didnt know how to use that lmaooo then finally my sister showed me but by that time Megan was going to find Sofa. So I went to find them both and didnt sEE them so I called Megan and she was just like “Im right in front of you” lmaoooo so we hugged and she squeezed me sO tight shes so soft yall she LOVES me We talked and then I finally pulled out my phone to record and was just like Taylornation contacted me and when I tell you she fell out she fELL out

youtube

So after that Megan said she told her friends she thought something was sus because I literally talk to her all the time but that whole ass week I didnt talk to her as much lmaoksijhguyijkvef So I followed Megan and her friend to her car and she did the macarena to delicate and put glitter on my face after I said I wish I put glitter on my face because shes sOFT and loves mEEEE. Then she yelled at me at like 3:50 to go to will call and check for the envelope lmaooo They didnt have the envelope until closer to 5. After I got the envelope me and my sister walked to where we had to go and people were congratulating me! We also passed @whyisntketchupasmoothie and @ofrunningfoxes who were so sweET and told me she would love me!

We were the first ones there and after a while everyone was there and we lined up. We went backstage and the man that led us told us to leave everything on the table and give him any letters or gifts or anything so I gave him the letters! We then walked in its like this very short hall with a few of taylors outfits behind glass and ahead is the rep room enTRANCE! So we walk in and rep room is so small so as soon as youre in you HEAR Taylor and idk man I just was nOt ready for that. I freaked out as you do got nervous and sat on the other side of the room opposite of where Taylor was lmaoooo there were people there to take Polaroids of us since we weren’t allowed to bring a camera so we took some of those. There was also like fOOD and alcohol which idk if we were allowed to touch any but no one attempted or asked so it just sat there ajhguthvjes so there were only 2 groups left and the other group was still taking pictures so we waited next to the small like square area covered by a curtain where Taylor was and I sAW glimpses of her GOD! So after that group I went in and Taylor yelled “hey how have you been!!!” and had her arms wIDE open so I went to hug her and she grabbed me and roCKED ME then she looked me straight in the eyes and was like “you look prettier in persone !” i was shOOK and she turned to my sister and asks her if she want a hug and that she looks good in yellow! Then she turned back to me stARING STRAIGHT AT ME AND I WAS LOOKIGN AT HER AND MY GOD SHES THE MOST BEAUTIFUL PERSON IVE EVER SEEN???? LIKE????? EVERYONE SAYS IT BUT SHE LITERALLY IS SO MUCH PRETTIER IN PERSON AND I DIDNT EVEN KNOW THAT WAS POSSIBLE???????? SO she talked to us about the show and that we had to get ready for the rain. I was staring up at her I kid you not mouth open with my hand on my chest LMAOOO Then I asked her who she would want on the iron throne in GOT and she was like pondering and put her hand on her waIST SHES SO CUTE and she was like idk i like them all I would have to think about that. Then she was like who would you want and I was like I dont watch it akjhyguhjfd I only asked because Megan said she forgot to ask at her session lmaosjhjkehf THEN I asked her what her favorite vine was and she was like “Oh I cant remember “ lmaooooo I totallY forgot to tell her it was my fiRST concert but I put it in the letter ahyjwkhbhjsf Then she asked if we wanted to take a picture and I asked for the picture if we could do a cheek kiss and she was like “yeah sure! Do you want to kiss mE on cheek? Or do you want me to kiss your cheek” jshghjkfs i lOVE HER so I was like you kiss mY cheek so she bent down and kissed my chEEK!!!!

Then after the picture was taken she made a kiss sounD actually kiSSING MY CHEEK Then as I was leaving she hugged me aGAIN called me sweetHEART and to have a good time!!! She smelled so gOOD and I smelled like her the whole ass night I even smelled like her this morNING We left and they handed my sister two autographed pictures. Then someone gave me a paper with instructions on how to get my picture and specifically said “Dont lose this” So right outside I saw mama swift talking to someone and the girl was just leaving. So I asked for a picture and she said “Only if I get a hug first!” SHES SO CUTE

We took the picture and then she talked about the rain then we left backstage and I lOST the card the man told me not to lmaoguhjevfsc So I told the man that took us back there and he asked someone to go look for it and he came back handed me it and said “would this be it” and in the back of my head I was just like i hOPE so I hOPE no one else lost theirs and I go home and load someone elses picture asjhguyhcd. Like only I wOULD lose something like that. Then we left to go to our seats. I told Megan and Sofia everything I could remember and they both freaked and Megan said she was screaming in the bathroom almakijuekfs

Once we got to our seats we waited for the show and let me tell you guys the show was tHE BEST THING I HAVE EVER SEEN AHBGVJHRDW SHE PLAYED FEARLESS???? WHICH I AHVE ALWAYS LOVED AND CLEAN WHI IS THAT SONG IN THE RAIN LIKE OMG AJHGBHJWD GOD ANS HSHE DID THE THING SHE USED TO DO DURING FEARLESS WHERE SHE SAYS THE STATE “IN NEW JERSEY NOW CAPTURE IT REMEMBER IT” SHE ALSO KEPT REPEATING THAT THIS WAS A RARE SHOW BECAUSE IT WOULD RAIN THE WHOLE TIME AND THAT SHE WAS LOOKING AT HER BAND LIKE “WE HAVE TO REMEMBER THIS SHOW”

#rep room #reputation #Taylor Swift #reputation stadium tour #July 21st 2018

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illstaywithstray · 5 years

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can you do a oneshot with "wait a minute, are you jealous?" with felix 💘💖💗💕😔 ur writing makes my day

4. “Wait a minute. Are you jealous?”

Note: Aww thanks love, I’m glad it does. Y’all reading my writing makes my day. Thank you for requesting!

You sat on the edge of a swivel chair as Eric Son traced eyeliner onto your lids.

“Nervous?”

“Is that even a question,” you scoffed at him, “this is one of the biggest nights in my entire life, Eric.”

Eric laughed at your expression, dusting gold highlight onto your cheekbones. “Y/n, you’ll be fine, you always are.”

“Yeah, but Felix is gonna be here. Watching me. From the audience. It’s insane.”

“You’re worried about your boyfriend watching you? What about the media?”

You snorted. “They’re easy to deal with. And I don’t know, he’s never seen me do anything except like, cheer for him in the audience.”

“And now he gets to like, cheer for you. Don’t worry, you’ll do great. Anyway, I’m gonna be next to you, so we better finish beating your face.”

“Why, because you’re so hot?”

“Exactly.” You scoffed again, rolling your eyes.

“Fifteen till we start,” Lucas Wong, the director of the movie you were in, waved his hands around, trying to gather everyone. “Okay, so this is just a panel, basic press gig, but reporters from top companies are here, so let’s try getting this movie in the books.”

The cast members murmured in agreement and clapped. Eric looked back at you.

“You think we can pull this thing off?”

“We always do.”

You walked out onto the stage and immediately heard screaming from the audience. Eric leaned over, trying to level himself with your ear.

“Don’t worry, that’s just for me.” You looked up at him with a flat expression, gripping his arm hard and smiling at the fans.

You spotted Felix in the audience. He smiled and waved at you, shaking a poster above his head.

“Did he really just say ‘you’re the yee to my haw’?”

“Yeah,” you giggled and waved at him, and then turned back to look at Eric, “why do you think I’m even dating him.”

The press started off pretty easy, with basic questions about the movie and how you felt about filming and the plot. And then the reporters shuffled out and the fans were allowed to ask questions.

“So when did you and Eric start dating?”

You laughed, thinking the girl was joking, “I’m sorry, could you repeat that?”

“When did you and Eric Son begin dating? Like did you guys ever meet before filming?”

You realized it was a serious question, and raised your mic, ready to blow it off. Eric, however, had different plans.

“We actually met before filming once. I think it was backstage at a Stray Kids concert. Right?” He turned to look at you, and you made a weird expression in response, before turning back to the girl.

“Yeah, but we really aren’t together.”

“Officially, at least. I’ve been asking y/n out for the past two months, but she keeps saying no.”

You looked at Felix as soon as he began talking, and you saw his face change.

“Eric, shut up. Guys, I have a boyfriend, and he’s really great. I am in no way dating this man next to me.”

You glanced at Felix again, and he smiled this time.

“So who’s your boyfriend?” Another girl stood up this time, waiting for a response. You couldn’t tell her because of the dating ban, so you tried swerving the question.

“I mean, he’s like pretty great, and he has great visuals-,”

“Yeah, but who is it y/n?” Eric smirked and raised his eyebrows innocently. You swatted his arm.

“I can’t say who he is because of the whole privacy thing with idols, but-,”

“So he’s an idol?”

After an hour of trying to convince the fans that no, you really weren’t dating either Eric or Lucas, you dove backstage.

“Look who it is,” Felix held out roses and smiled. But it was stiff and slightly cold. “Our actress of the hour.”

“Hey Lix. Something wrong?”

“No, nothing. Why was Eric being so weird though? It got annoying so fast.”

“Wait a minute. Are you jealous?”

“What? Where’d you get that from? Of course not.”

“YOU WERE SO JEALOUS- OF WHO? ME OR ERIC? God, now you know how I feel about Changlix.”

“I’m not jealous.” He began turning cherry red.

“Aww, my baby’s jealous.” You laughed as you felt his embarrassment increase. “Felix, I love ya dude. Way more than I like anyone else. Except maybe my mom. But you get it.”

He laughed, genuinely. “Fine. I was a little jealous.”

You threw your arms around him, kissing him aggressively in front of the whole dressing room. “I love you.”

#felix #lee felix #stray kids #drabble #one shot #fluff #requests are open!#skz

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newtmassangsters · 6 years

Text

A million dreams - Newtmas AU (oneshot)

Also available on Ao3

Newt had been playing the piano for ten years now, taking lessons at the Conservatoire with Abigail since he was eight years old. Although he wasn’t her best student, he was the oldest one, and her favourite. The weekly hour they spent together always included at least fifteen minutes of gossips, when they shared everything from their thoughts on music to their personal life. Newt was quite a shy person, but he knew he could trust Abigail on anything, they had known each other for ten years and he felt like she knew him almost as good as his parents did, and definitely better than himself.

Abigail was a 30-year-old woman, with dark, long, hair that fell on her shoulders with elegance. She was very talented, but was nothing like the classic, serious pianist type. She was an eccentric person, took samba dancing lessons, listened to Michael Jackson as well as Rachmaninov, wore long skirts and peace-and-love homemade necklaces, yet had graduated from a musicology and pianist degree at the best school in the country, and knew how to play seven instruments. Because she carried such an unlikely background, she believed in each and every one of her students. When Newt first entered her classroom, he didn’t even know who Mozart was. Now, ten years later, he was able to play Mozart, of course, but also Beethoven, Handel, Bach or any composer she asked him too.

Newt was currently sitting behind the piano, practising a piece for the Conservatoire’s Annual Concert in a month. Each teacher had to choose five of his best students to play at the town’s theatre. The piece Abigail had chosen was a perfect fit for the boy: it was one of Rachmaninov’s Preludes, an elaborate piece, fast but gentle and delicate, that was often left over and unnoticed by famous musicians, yet it could be so deep and meaningful if played right.

At the moment, Newt was struggling with the metronome, trying, and failing, to speed up on the keyboard while not messing up the rhythm at the same time.

“You have to straighten up your hand, love, if you want to get passed 100 beats.” She finally helped him, realizing he was not figuring it by himself. He looked up at her, then stopped everything and sighed in defeat.

“I’ve been trying for half an hour now, Abigail, I’ll never be able to do it!”

“Yeah, right.” She rolled her eyes. “Stop being a drama queen and try harder, Newt. That might save us some time.”

“I just want to give a good performance this time, that’s all.” He admitted with a slightly panicked expression on his face. She didn’t seem to get how much he was afraid of failing.

“Stop worrying, Newt, I know you’ll do good. Thomas will be impressed, I promise.” She leaned on the piano as she winked at him.

The boy looked at her with wide eyes and red cheeks. “W-what do y-you… I… I d-don’t…”

“Oh, come on, buddy, I know you like Thomas! It’s so obvious that I still don’t understand why nothing happened between you two yet. Although they do say that love makes you blind…” she laughed at his embarrassment, but that only made Newt blush even more.

Thomas was another one of Abigail’s student, although piano was not his main instrument. He was the son of the double bass teacher, and at first, he had learnt how to play that instrument, but he soon moved to the saxophone, which was now his main. Three years ago, he had decided to start the piano, in order to be an “accomplished jazz man” as he had told his mom, joking. Because he was a very fast learner, and a known figure in the Conservatoire, most of the first years looked up to him, and everybody knew his name.

“Hey, love, it’s totally fine, I’m not judging. Why do you think I put his class right after yours? You two are adorable blushing and stuttering and eyeing each other every week…” Abigail tried to comfort Newt, coming to sit beside him.

Newt had always admired Thomas, of course, and had had a crush on him for years now. They were in the same music theory class, but Newt was so shy that they never really had an actual conversation, except for the stupid jokes Thomas whispered to him to make the lesson go faster. Thomas was funny, but he was also talented, and kind, and really cute; he was the only one to actually stand up to their terrible music theory teacher when she would pick on Newt. Newt admired the boy so much, he often daydreamed that they could become a thing one day, but he was too afraid to ever admit anything to him, not even that he was into boys. He just dreamed, and hope a miracle would happen someday.

Abigail sighed at the sight of Newt’s face, all sad and desperate. Newt was so much more than what he saw himself as. The blond was so focused on what was around him, Thomas, and the others, he spent so much time daydreaming about what could happen that he didn’t see how important he was to everyone. He wouldn’t notice how the little kids also looked up to him, because he was the oldest student in here, and one of the best. First years kept telling her that they wanted to play “exactly like the blond lizard boy when they grew up”. He was also an important figure of the Conservatoire, always a part of every concert; arriving an hour or so in advance to help fix everything. And, of course, he failed to notice that the brunet was obviously in love with Newt, just as he himself was obsessed with Thomas. They were both hopelessly lovesick and oblivious and had been for years.

“So, will you help me with that bar line, or?” Newt tried to casually change the subject, his cheeks still pink. Abigail rolled her eyes but turned the metronome back on and went on with the lesson.

Thomas closed the front door of his house in a rushed movement and hurried down the street in the direction of the Theatre. He was late for the concert, as always, and if his mom noticed, she would murder him. He had promised her he would come and help fix the stage for once but got caught up in his show and didn’t notice the time until he was half an hour late already. He felt bad for letting her down once again, not to mention that he knew Newt was also helping with the stage and they could’ve done it together. He couldn’t help the little smile on his lips at the thought of spending time with the blond, even if it was carrying chairs and heavy instruments on a stage. Maybe, maybe, this time they would’ve been able to hold an actual conversation, but it was too late now. Plus, he was really looking forward to hearing Newt play. He had already, technically, since their lessons were following each other, but they had never performed the same concerts before, and everyone showed a different side of themselves on stage. He admired Newt’s talent as a pianist, and he wanted to be able to watch him play, also maybe talk to him about it, laugh with him backstage. Thomas really loved to make him laugh.

By the time he finally arrived at the Theatre, and entered by the stage door, he was sweating and out of breath. The first person to notice him was his mother, who immediately sent him a death glare. So much for trying to be unnoticed, he thought bitterly. She sent him to watch over the kids who were waiting backstage and preparing their instruments. As much as Thomas hated it, he went upstairs without arguing.

As soon as he entered the room, he was met by a sight worse than his sister’s room when she invited her friends for a sleepover. Instrument’s cases were left open all over the room, mostly on the floor, with or without the instruments inside. Some kids were playing tag and running over the room, occasionally tripping over the instruments. A group of girls were braiding each other’s hair in a corner, gossiping loudly, another was standing by the open window throwing objects to people on the street, and one boy was crying in a corner because his violin chord was broken. Thomas cursed under his breath for being late, before taking a step into the mess that was the room and getting to work. After fifteen minutes, all girls were decently braided, the majority of the kids had been sent to the courtyard to play whatever game they wanted to that involved running, thus significantly reducing the noise, and the violin chord had been replaced. But Thomas himself was exhausted and sweating ten times more than he had been already. He was just about to allow himself a little rest when he heard someone walking in the direction of the room.

“This is far too quiet. What bloody happen-” Newt suddenly entered the room with a frown on his face, but he stopped dead in his tracks when he noticed Thomas leaning by the window. The latter straightened as soon as he saw the blond and offered him a shy smile.

“Oh, hey Tommy, I didn’t know you were there.” Newt said very quietly, not meeting his eyes.

“Yeah, Mom sent me to calm down the kids. That was not easy.” Thomas chuckled, trying to break the awkward silence between them. His eyes brightened as he saw Newt smile at his comment.

“Yeah, I know, I used to have a sister.” Newt said as he fully entered the room and looked around. “I’ll help you clean up the rest of the room if you want.”

“Thanks.” Thomas smiled as he realized he did get to spend time with Newt before the concert. “And I’m sorry for your sister.”

Newt frowned again, that cute frown he seemed to carry everywhere, until he finally understood what Thomas had meant. “Oh, no! Nothing actually happened to her! My sister, I mean. She’s just… I meant I do still have a sister but what I meant was that she’s grown, now, so I don’t need to watch over anymore.” He tried to hide his embarrassment by bending over to the closest item to clean the place, blood rushing to his face.

Thomas giggled at his stuttering and looked at him with a fond smile. He stared as the blond kept on randomly moving objects in the room, not really caring about ordering it but trying hard to make his blush go away. He could go on studying him all day, and he almost forgot about the kids all around them, lost as he was in the sight of the boy in front of him.

Almost. Because after thirty seconds of him staring all adoringly at Newt, a little girl tugged at his leg and asked with a high-pitched voice, loud and clear: “Hey, mister Thomas, are you in love with mister Newt? Why are you looking at him and smiling like my Mommy and my Daddy look at each other after they say I love you?”

It was Thomas’ turn to blush furiously as he sent a furious glare to the little girl, while Newt turned to him with wide eyes. He opened his mouth in an attempt to justify himself but was cut short by another boy in the room.

“Pfff, that’s not possible, Julie! Two boys can’t be in love, it’s so weird!”

“Yes, it does!” Julie shrieked, clearly upset by the boy’s comment. “My sister says she likes a girl and I even saw them kiss once! And she told me that boys could do that too! So, you don’t talk if you don’t know what you are talking about because if you say mean things like that, then I will tell my sister, and she will ground you!” Thomas looked up at Newt, who was now smiling at the girl, amused by her outburst.

“Puah, your sister, she’s all wrong and bad,” Another boy intervened. “my father, he says it’s very, very bad if you’re a girl and you want to kiss a girl and also if you’re a boy and you want to kiss a boy, and on the lips. And I think Newt is a very cool boy and I want to be just like him when I grow up, so I don’t want him to be a homosexual person because that’s wrong. Also, my father, he is never wrong, so now I don’t like your sister.” Julie turned to him with a furious expression. She was all red and her eyes were almost spilling tears.

Thomas caught her in his arms just as she was about to jump on the boy, and he thought the incident would end there, as he sent the kids away. But Newt quickly turned to the boy and spoke in a very angry and slightly hurt voice.

“Well, I’m very sorry to break the news to you, buddy, but your father might be wrong on that one. At least I know that you are, because I am definitely gay, which means that I do want to kiss boys on the lips even though I am a boy myself. And there is nothing wrong with it, you hear me? I don’t care what bullshit your father wants to say but -“ He was cut off by Thomas’ calming hand on his shoulder. He turned to the brunet who was still holding Julie and looking at him with wide eyes. The sight calmed Newt right away, and he took a deep breath before turning back to the boy, who remained completely silent before Newt.

“It’s alright. You are allowed to be wrong sometimes. But I still want you to apologize to Julie there, for calling her sister a bad person.” The boy nodded and went to Julie to apologize. Newt turned to Thomas again, who was now staring at him with what looked like a proud smile. The blond smiled back, slightly blushing when he realized he had just come out to Thomas and half of the kids of the Conservatoire without even meaning to.

“So, Mister, are you a gay person like my sister and Newt, too? Is that why you are looking at him again?” Julie turned back to Thomas after she had ended her conversation with the other kid.

The question took Thomas by surprise again, and he wished for the second time that she would learn to give people privacy, or at least start speaking quietly. He contemplated not answering, but when he looked up, everyone was staring at him expectantly, including Newt.

“Hum, huh… Yeah, I am. Well, not exactly, more like I like boys and girls both, but… Yeah, that’s the idea.” He avoided looking at the blond at all costs as he struggled explaining his sexuality to the nine-year-old. Exactly how I had dreamed to come out to Newt, he thought.

She opened her mouth to ask another question - and very probably embarrass him more when Abigail barged into the room.

“There you are!” she exclaimed looking at Newt and Thomas both. “I should’ve guessed you two would be all blushing somewhere together. Well, come on then, the concert starts in ten minutes, and I want everyone downstairs in five!”

Newt let his fingers move by themselves in the pattern he knew by heart now. His eyes went from the music sheet to the keynote, checking his movements, although he didn’t really need to read the sheet anymore. He knew it by heart, but it wasn’t elegant to keep his eyes fixed on his hands, and it helped his focus to read the notes as he played. He was so nervous, knowing that Thomas was in the building somewhere, listening to him play. But as soon as his fingers had started moving, he got lost in the music, as he was now. A large grin grew on his face as he played the last chord and he realized he hadn’t made one single mistake. He looked up to Abigail behind the curtains, who was applauding furiously, like everyone else in the Hall. He got up to bow to the public, then gathered his sheets and walked back behind the stage. As soon as he was out of the public sight, behind the curtains, someone ran into him, almost knocking him over, holding him in a tight embrace. His eyes widened when he realized it was Thomas.

“Newt! You were amazing!” the brunet exclaimed as he pulled back, his smile almost as big as Newt’s.

“Boys, keep quiet, will you?” Abigail whispered at them, winking at Newt at the same time. And he didn’t know if she meant it for his performance or for the unexpected hug he just received.

“Let’s get out” Thomas offered as he grabbed Newt’s hand to lead him away. He didn’t know why he felt so bold and touchy suddenly, if it was because of their forced coming-out from earlier, or the fact that they were both tired, but none of them complained.

“Thomas, you’re in in twenty minutes, so don’t get too far!” Abigail reminded them before turning her attention back to duet of clarinets playing on stage.

Newt followed Thomas to a flight of hidden stairs that lead to the upper circle of seats, next to the control room. They had the floor to themselves, as almost no one knew how to get there.

“I found that place years ago when my Mom used to bring me with her at her concerts and I would get so bored that I started exploring the building. Now I go there all the time because there is no one to bother me here and I have a very good view.” Thomas explained as he lead them to seat by the balustrade, still holding hands.

Newt simply nodded and turned his attention to the jazz quartet that was now playing. There was a pianist, a double bass, a saxophone and drums. They were all playing with true passion and it showed in the way the instruments interacted. They responded perfectly to one another, in perfect harmony, yet each one was able to portray its own emotion and added its own version to the story they were writing together. It truly was beautiful, and everyone in the theatre seemed to be caught on their music.

“They’re very good.” Thomas said, stating the obvious. They were sitting side by side, their shoulders touching. Newt had his elbows resting on the balustrade, and his face resting on his arms, looking as if he were sleeping when he had never been more aware of his surroundings, the wonderful music in his ears and before his eyes, Thomas’ shoulder on his, his presence by his side. Thomas was sitting cross-legged, his chest leaning forward and his arms balancing above the void. His eyes were fixed on Newt’s adorable position, but his ears didn’t miss a single note the quartet was playing.

The atmosphere had changed from cheerful to a more serious, nostalgic one. The musicians were playing There Will Never Be Another You, and the saxophone was currently pouring all his feelings in a heart-breaking solo.

Newt finally turned to Thomas, looking at him in the eyes, his head still fixed on his arms. “They are. But I like it better when you are playing.” He was being serious, and Thomas smiled kindly at his answer.

“Thanks.”

They went back to the music. The piece was so known that both of them, even though Newt wasn’t into jazz, could sing the lyrics. It talked about impossible dreams of being with someone that might have left forever.

“Do you have dreams, Tommy?” the blond asked after a few seconds of silence.

“Some. I don’t know. Do you?”

“Yes.” Newt smiled at him. “But they’re always different. Sometimes I have my all life all planned, each second of it, and some other days I have no clue where to go. I can’t make up my mind.” He sighed, thinking about how life always seemed to ignore his wishes and had left so many of his dreams disregarded. He didn’t really know why he was sharing all of it tonight. He didn’t even know why he was feeling so nostalgic and serious all of a sudden. It could have been the music, or the intensity of Thomas’ brown eyes staring right into his. He might not know, but he felt comfortable sharing all of it with him, because the other was listening, and Newt felt like he could trust him. Both of them could somehow feel the thin connection that was linking them together on that night. It was fragile, but they just needed to make it grow stronger, like a seed that had the potential to grow into a beautiful flower if one put enough affection and dedication in the effort.

“So what is this dream about, tonight?” Thomas asked.

“Tonight, I want to be a good musician, a real pianist.”

“You already are.” The brunet cut him off. Newt just smiled.

“A better one, then. A professional. I want to play good music all over the country, all over the world even, I’d be good, but it wouldn’t matter, because it would be all about the music.” He said all of it in a quiet voice, his gaze fixed on the painted ceiling. He didn’t really know where he was going with it, he was making everything up as he said it, letting the music guide his thoughts.

Thomas had leant closer, mirroring Newt’s position resting on the balustrade, his own face now inches from the blond’s one. It was now or never. They might never have another night like this one, just the two of them at the top of the theatre, on the top of the world, looking down on a stage where four men sang about lost love and missed opportunities. Thomas did not want Newt to be an opportunity he missed, he wanted him to be the love he could be proud of, the one that grew strong and beautiful.

“Am I in this dream, Newt?” he asked quietly.

“Yeah” the other whispered, locking their eyes together. “Tonight, I imagine you would be by my side, always. We would be playing together. Just the two of us, together.” The last sentence was so quiet, it was hard to hear it over the bass’ solo.

“And tomorrow?”

“I don’t know. Ask me tomorrow.” They both smiled, not breaking eye contact, Thomas leaning just a little bit closer. They listened together to the music, again. It was about time moving too fast, but they felt like they could ever be able to leave the moment they were lost in.

“I really like you, Tommy.” Newt suddenly confessed, as if it was so evident that he didn’t even need to say it. And it was. It felt so clear, unmistakable, obvious as they were sitting here, on the highest row of the theatre, staring so intently at each other. And he knew how Thomas felt it too.

“I really like you too.” The brunet smiled even bigger, and finally closed the gap that was between their bodies.

There will be other lips that I may kiss, but they won’t thrill me like yours used to do. Yes, I may dream a million dreams, but how can they come true, if there will never ever be another you? The song went on, but lost in their own kiss, thrilled by the feeling of their own lips against the other, the boys didn’t need to be dreaming a million dreams to know that this one was true.

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