#probably not. whenever i use my friends' electric guitars i am weirded out by how small they are and how bendy the strings are

[a-passing-storm]

Do I need an electric guitar...

#(the answer is no) #(i do not) #(i want one. kind of badly. will i still want one badly in a week? hm.) #i've been thinking about getting an electric guitar for a couple weeks but... is that long enough #i don't think so. i have an acoustic guitar already. and bass is definitely my Primary Instrument (read like “preferred weapon”) #but someday... maybe i'll get an electric guitar. maybe. i don't know. #i DO have my own money now though. since i got a job. and i could certainly afford an electric guitar. but like... is it worth it #probably not. whenever i use my friends' electric guitars i am weirded out by how small they are and how bendy the strings are #like they are... soft. the strings. they are thin so they hurt a bit but they bend SO much. it's weird. acoustic has more resistance #or something. idk. but when i try to play electric the strings just w o b b l e. this is such a weird ramble it has such a weird cadence #but it's fine. #anyway acoustic guitar feels more like electric bass than it does electric guitar #to me. at least. i think i will still go to guitar center tomorrow to try some electric guitars out. but i won't buy one. #also feel free to read this whole ramble but replace “electric guitar” with “five string bass” because same thoughts #dante dicit #dante digreditur #bassist #guitarist #bass #electric guitar #guitar

[rpf-bat]

Celebrate The End Of Things With Cheap Champagne

Pairing: Frank Iero x Reader

Genre: Angst 

Summary: @sirloin-steaks requested a Frank story based on the song “New Year’s Day” by Taylor Swift. 

It’s December 31st, 2006, and My Chemical Romance are ringing in the New Year, performing live in Times Square. Frank invites you to come out, and see the show. But, an after-party at the band’s hotel, takes a turn, that nobody saw coming.

Trigger warning for substance abuse. 

You stood on the deck of the ferry boat, watching the bright lights of New York City draw closer and closer. You used to take this ferry every day, from your hometown in New Jersey, to your job in Manhattan. But, that seemed like so long ago now. 

Once upon a time, your friend and former coworker, Gerard, would catch the morning ferry with you. But, after the September 11th attacks, he’d quit his job at your company, and started a band. His decision had puzzled you at first. But, the first time you saw My Chemical Romance perform live, you had understood. 

That was also the night that you met Frank. His guitar playing was electric, and you told him as much, after the band finished their set. It had been at some shitty dive bar - the only venues that would take them at the time. But, he’d told you that night, that he, and Gee, and the guys, were going to make it to the big time. You’d admired his ambition, and the two of you became fast friends. And he’d been right. 

Now, four years later, My Chemical Romance was one of the biggest bands in the country. Their album, The Black Parade, had just dropped two months ago, debuting at #2 on the Billboard charts. They had gotten popular enough, to receive a prestigious offer. Ryan Seacrest had asked them to play New Year’s Rockin’ Eve, tonight, in Times Square! 

Millions of Americans tuned in every New Year’s Eve, to see the concert broadcast, and watch the ball drop at midnight. It was crazy to you, that your dorky friends from back home in New Jersey, had gotten “big” enough to perform alongside glitzy pop stars, like Christina Aguilera.

You were so psyched for them. It would also be the first time you had seen them in a while. Frank was the only one of the guys who still technically lived in New Jersey. When he was home, and off the road, he would come over to your house all the time, to watch movies, or play video games, just like in the old days. But, the last time that had happened, had been months ago. He, and the rest of the band, had been traveling around nonstop, doing radio and TV interviews, to promote the new album. In February, they were supposed to embark on a world tour. 

“But after tonight’s show, we’ll have a little bit of time off, before the tour starts,” Frank had told you excitedly on the phone, yesterday afternoon, when he’d invited you to the gig. “I really hope we get to spend more time together, Y/N. I missed you.” 

You had missed him, too - more than words could describe. Your heart ached whenever you drove past his house, knowing that he wasn’t in it. You had things you wanted to say to him tonight - things you’d been waiting to tell him for a long time. 

Your heart hammered as you stepped off the ferry, and began walking towards Time Square. The streets were packed with people, all rushing towards the same place you were. You knew some New Yorkers had started camping out at three o’clock in the afternoon, to get the best seats. If Frank hadn’t sent you a VIP pass in the mail, you’d surely have ended up in the way back of the crowd, nowhere close to the stage. 

You showed your pass to the security personnel, who were looking through peoples’ bags at a checkpoint, near the entrance to the Square. They waved you through to a special designated area, in the front row, for friends and family of the performers. You were pretty sure the kid on your left was the fourth Jonas Brother. You felt remarkably out of place. 

But, then your phone beeped, alerting you that you had a text. A smile crossed your face, when you realized it was from Frank. 

We r about 2 head onstage, he said. I will see you after our set, I promise! There’s nobody I’d rather ring in 2007 with :)

You heard the crowd start screaming, and your head whipped around, as you watched the announcer stroll onto the stage. 

“Please welcome our next musical guest - My! Chemical! Romaaaaance!” 

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

Their performance was amazing. They were one of a dozen artists performing tonight, so they only got to do three songs, before they had to get offstage and make room for the next act (Gwen Stefani, apparently). But, they put their whole hearts into those three tracks. Frank was jumping around like a maniac with his guitar, despite the freezing cold. Ray even had a pair of “2007” sunglasses on. 

You screamed for them, like every other girl in the crowd. At this point, you thought with a frown, there’s probably ten thousand people, with a crush on the same man, that I’ve been pining for since 2002. 

...Then again, you considered, the ten thousand other girls, don’t have backstage passes. 

Your frown disappeared, when you walked backstage, and a pair of arms immediately circled you. 

“Y/N!” Frank grinned. “Thank you so much for coming out and seeing us tonight!”

“Wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” you grinned, hugging your friend back. “You were amazing.” 

“Thank you,” Frank said sincerely, releasing you from his grip. “Are you ready to get out of this cold?”

“Where are we going?” you asked. 

“Back to the hotel,” he explained. “Ray’s not feeling so good.” 

“Oh, no,” you frowned. “I’m sorry to hear that.” 

“Hi, Y/N!” Ray greeted, waving at you with one hand, while he pulled a tissue from his pocket, with the other. He blew his nose loudly. “....Sorry,” he muttered. “How are you?”

“It’s okay!” you assured him. “I’m fine...I’m sorry you’re not doing so well, though. You sound awful.” 

“It’s this East Coast weather,” he shrugged, throwing the tissue in a nearby wastebasket. “I hate doing outdoor shows, in the wintertime.” 

“You sounded great onstage,” you reassured him. “Nobody could even tell you were sick.” 

“The dorky sunglasses conceal how puffy his eyes are,” Frank confessed. “Poor guy didn’t sleep at all last night.” 

“Well, hopefully, I’ll sleep better tonight,” Ray chucked. “We’ve got two rooms at the Knickerbocker Hotel - one for me and Mikey, and one for Frank and Gerard.”

“Speaking of which,” you asked, “where is Gerard?” 

“Here I am!” chuckled a voice behind you, and you turned and saw your old friend Gerard, beaming at you. “Sorry, I was busy calling our cab. It’s so good to see you, Y/N! Thank you for coming.” 

“Thank you for inviting me!” you smiled back. “I’m really proud of you guys, getting to be part of such a major event.” 

“Oh, it’s surreal,” Gerard confessed. “I used to come up here with my mom and dad, and Mikey, every New Year’s Eve, to watch the show live.  I never thought I’d be in the show.” 

“We’re really lucky,” Mikey smiled, appearing beside Gerard, with a glass of champagne in his hand. 

“Ooh, where’d you get that?” Frank asked. 

“They’re giving them out to all the VIPs,” Mikey explained. “Would you like one, Y/N?” 

“I don’t think I qualify as a Very Important Person,” you confessed. 

“Nonsense,” Frank shook his head. “You’re very important to me.” 

“Yeah,” Mikey nodded. “You’ve been good friends with all of us for a long time. You can have whatever you want.” 

“No time for that,” Gerard shook his head. “Our cab’s here.” 

“C’mon,” Frank said, lacing his fingers with yours. “We have to go out through a secret exit, so that the fans don’t mob us.” 

“Oh, shit, really?” you chuckled. “I feel like a secret agent.” 

“Our lives have gotten so weird, honestly,” Gerard confessed. “I’m kinda glad that we’re gonna put some distance, between us and these crowds.” 

“Yeah, it’ll just be five of us, once we get to the hotel,” Mikey nodded. “Well...four. Ray is gonna go to sleep in our room, as soon we get there. But, the rest of us can party in Frankie and Gee’s room til midnight.” 

“Or later,” Frank grinned mischievously.

You smiled at your four oldest friends. “I can’t wait.” 

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

“Ok, question,” you asked uncertainly, staring at the yellow cab in front of you. “How are we gonna fit five people in there?”

“It’s gonna be a tight squeeze,” Frank chuckled. 

“Well, hey, we’ve managed to fit in smaller places before, right?” Gerard pointed out. 

“True,” Ray laughed. “Remember when we were traveling around New Jersey, in our shitty little van?”

“We were all practically right on top of each other,” Mikey recalled. 

When the band had first started, you had gone with them, on weekend trips, to play a gig, in the next town over. You’d squished between the boys, somehow, and helped them carry their equipment into the venue. Watching them rock the faces off the local kids, had been so much fun. 

But, as time went on, they started getting offers to play at clubs across state lines. Day trips turned into months-long tours. You couldn’t commit to that - unlike Gerard, you still had a day job. And so, you started seeing the guys less and less. Then they’d gotten a record deal - and everything had gotten even more complicated. 

“That was….a long time ago,” you frowned. 

“Yeah,” Frank said wistfully. “I wish we had the chance to do that again.” 

“Well, now, most of the time, we don’t have to squish,” Ray pointed out. “We have a nice, roomy tour bus, with bunks and everything.” 

“You’ve come a long way,” you smiled weakly. 

You were quiet as you piled into the car. As the taxi started driving down the street, you stared out at the night sky, and the city lights flying by. Suddenly, Frank gently touched your hand, making you turn, and face him. 

“Hey,” he said quietly, giving your hand a squeeze, “are you alright, Y/N?” 

“Yeah,” you shrugged. “I’m fine. Don’t worry.” 

“Tonight’s supposed to be a party, remember?” he teased. “So, try and smile for me, okay?” 

“I’ll try,” you promised. It was far easier to smile, with him around. 

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

You could tell as soon as you walked into the lobby, that this was a five star hotel. A crystal chandelier, cast a soft glow over the pristine decor. 

“We already got our room keys earlier,” Gerard explained. “So, we can go ahead up.” 

You nodded, and followed him and the guys to the elevator. 

“I think I’m gonna crash as soon as we get upstairs,” Ray confessed, sniffling into his tissue again. 

“I don’t blame you,” you said sympathetically. The elevator dinged, as you arrived at your floor. 

“Since I won’t see you guys until tomorrow,” Ray sighed, “Happy New Year, alright?”

“Happy New Year, Ray,” you waved, as you watched him unlock his hotel room door, and head inside. “Feel better soon!”

“Thanks, Y/N,” Ray wheezed, closing the door behind him. 

“Alright, let’s head into our room,” Frank grinned, opening the door to the adjoining room. “What do you want to do first?” 

“Let’s turn the TV on,” Mikey suggested, immediately looking for the remote. “I wanna see the other performances. They’re still broadcasting live right now.” 

“Oh, true,” you nodded. “We can still watch the ball drop tonight, on this flat screen!” 

“I wanna look at the room service menu,” Gerard grinned. “Y/N, you can have anything you want. Just let me know.” 

“Thanks, Gee,” you grinned. “Should we get champagne to toast with, at midnight?” 

“I’ll get it for you three,” Gerard shrugged. “For me? I guess I’ll order a club soda. If they put it in a fancy glass, I can still clink it with yours when the clock strikes twelve.” 

“Yeah, that works,” Frank agreed. “Looks almost the same.”

You frowned. That’s right, you remembered. Gerard is about two and a half years sober now. 

You remembered going to see them, at their Englishtown show, during Warped Tour ‘04. Gerard had been a mess. You hadn’t seen him in two or three months, and you were shocked how much he’d deteriorated. You’d felt helpless. If you’d had more time, maybe you could have talked some sense into him. But, the very next day, he had to get back on his bus, and head to another gig, in Pennsylvania. 

Frank had called you on the phone, maybe a week later, and told you Gerard had decided to get clean, on his own. You didn’t know how, or why. You didn’t know fifty percent, of what went on in your friends’ heads anymore. 

“.....Y/N?” Frank called, his voice stunning you out of your thoughts. 

“Sorry,” you blinked. “Did you say something?” 

“Yeah, I said I’m going out to the balcony, to have a smoke,” Frank replied. “I asked you if you wanted to come with me?”

“Oh….yeah, sure,” you nodded, and followed him out. “Got a light?” 

“Here,” Frank said, pulling a lighter out of his pocket, and handing it to you. 

You took a pack of Marlboros out of your purse, and lit one. “Thanks,” you said, handing it back. 

Frank lit his own cigarette, and took a drag. You glanced over at him as you inhaled the nicotine, watching how the cool night breeze tousled his hair. 

“I thought you said on the phone, that  you were trying to quit,” Frank raised an eyebrow. 

“I should,” you sighed, exhaling smoke. “I know it’s bad for me.”

“Sorry for being a bad influence,” Frank laughed. “I know I got no room to talk.”

“It’s not your fault,” you shrugged, taking another puff. “I guess I’m just stressed tonight.” 

“About what?” Frank asked, looking at you curiously. 

“It’s stupid,” you mumbled. 

“Tell me,” Frank insisted, taking his free hand in yours again. Your heart raced at his casual touch. 

“I just…,” you sighed, unsure how to begin. “I never see you guys anymore.” 

“I’m sorry,” Frank frowned. 

“No, don’t be,” you shook your head. “I’m being selfish. I should be happy for you, right? It’s a good thing, that the band has gotten so successful, that you have fans in practically every city in the world, that want to see you.” 

“Yeah, they get to see me,” Frank groaned. “But, I don’t get to see my friends, or family - any of the people I love most - for months at a time.” 

The people he loves most. Your face reddened. Did you really fit into that category? 

“After tonight,” you asked, “how long will you be in town?” 

“The first night of the tour is February 22nd,” Frank explained. “The gig’s in New Hampshire, so we’ll be flying out the night before.” 

“So we have….slightly less than two months, to spend time together,” you calculated. “And after that, the next time you’ll be in my neck of the woods is…?” 

“Bamboozle Festival,” Frank replied. “That’s in May.” 

“Wow,” you frowned. “Are you playing all three days of the festival, or…?”

“Nah, just one,” Frank said sheepishly. “We’ll be in Jersey for a night….the very next day, we’ll be playing a gig in fuckin’ Maine.”

“The fun never stops, I guess,” you deadpanned. 

“I mean, it is fun,” Frank admitted. “I love being a musician. Playing my guitar, onstage, is all I’ve wanted to do, my entire life.” 

“Yeah, it’s your dream,” you said quickly, “that’s why I should just shut up, and let you…”

“You don’t have to shut up,” Frank interrupted. “Y/N, I want you to tell me how you feel.” 

“How do I feel, Frank?” you repeated, your emotions starting to get the best of you. “I feel like I don’t even know my friends at all anymore! I don’t want you to turn into a stranger, whose laugh I could recognize anywhere. I’m still working the same dead end job I had the day I met you….but your life has completely changed. You’re gone 80% of the year, and yeah, I know you text or call me whenever you can, but when I’m not there face to face, I still miss so much of your life! You used to be just….a guy next door, that I could listen to records and smoke with. Now you’re some….millionaire rock star. That coat you’ve got on right now is probably worth more than my first car, and you’ve probably got girls in every town, throwing their panties at you…” 

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t look twice at any of those girls,” Frank said, looking you in the eye, “if a certain someone, told me, that she wanted me to be hers, and hers alone.”

A certain someone….? you gasped. Did he mean…?

“Hey!” a voice interrupted, and you jumped, as the sliding glass door slid open, and Gerard stepped onto the balcony. “There you guys are!” 

“H-hey,” you stammered, taken aback. 

“Everything alright?” Gerard asked, raising a quizzical eyebrow. 

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s cool,” Frank mumbled, not looking at you at all, as he stubbed his cigarette out in the ashtray. “What did you need?”

“We’ve got about five minutes til midnight,” Gerard smiled. “Figured you guys would want to come back inside, so we can count down the last seconds of 2006 together.” 

“Oh, right, of course,” you blinked. “Did room service already bring up the champagne flutes?”

“Yeah, they’re ready to go,” Gerard nodded. “....Wait. Where’s Mikey?” 

“We thought he was with you,” Frank said, looking confused. 

“No,” Gerard shook his head. “I went to the bathroom, and when I came back out, he was gone. If he’s not on the balcony with you guys, where did he go?” 

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “Maybe he went to his and Ray’s room?” 

“Oh, yeah, that would make sense,” Gerard nodded. “Let’s go get him.” 

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

Gerard knocked loudly on the hotel room door. 

“Come on, Mikey!” he called. “We got three minutes til midnight, you’re gonna miss the ball drop, dude!” 

The door swung open, but instead of Mikey, a sleepy-looking Ray answered. 

“Mikey’s not in here,” Ray said with a yawn. “It’s just me.”

“Oh, sorry for waking you up, man,” Gerard apologized. 

“Wait,” Frank realized. “If he’s not in either hotel room, then, where is he?” 

“Maybe he went to go get ice?” Ray suggested. 

“Or maybe he went downstairs, to ask the front desk guy something,” you guessed. 

“Let’s split up,” Frank suggested. “You guys go down the hall and see if he’s by the ice machine. Y/N and I will look for him downstairs.” 

“Yeah, we can do that,” Gerard agreed. “Hopefully we’ll find him before the end of the year!” 

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

“This elevator’s taking too long to get up here,” Frank said impatiently, hitting the down-arrow button a second time. 

“Wanna just take the stairs?” you suggested. 

“Works for me,” Frank shrugged. 

You followed him into the stairwell, your heart still pounding from the conversation on the balcony. What would have happened, you wondered, if Gerard hadn’t walked in when he did? 

Frank kept his eyes on the flight of stairs in front of you, not saying a word, as you walked past the sign, indicating that you were now on the second floor. 

“Maybe he didn’t go this wa...oh, fuck,” Frank gasped, coming to a sudden stop.  

Your blood froze, when you saw what he was looking at. Mikey’s unconscious body, lay sprawled across the bottom steps. He was face down….he didn’t even look like he was breathing. 

“Mikey, oh my god!” You ran to his side, flipping him over, so that you could see his face. “Frank, we have to help him!” 

The bassist looked deathly pale, and his lips had turned a horrifying shade of blue. You felt for a pulse. It was there, but it was disturbingly weak.

“Come on, Mikey, wake up!” you pleaded, shaking his shoulders. “Oh my god, what’s wrong with him?!” 

“I think he’s overdosing,” Frank realized, kneeling by your side. 

“On what?!” you gasped. 

“On whatever he went downstairs, to pick up from his dealer,” Frank growled. “Goddamnit! We need to call 911.” 

“Mikey!” a familiar voice called, and Gerard and Ray burst into the stairwell. 

“Oh, god!” Gerard gasped, when he saw his brother, lying eerily still in your arms. 

“I’m trying to wake him up!” you explained. “It’s not working...fuck, what do I do?” 

“He needs a doctor,” Ray realized, whipping out his cell phone. “....Hello? Yes, we’re having an emergency…...the Knickerbocker Hotel….umm, Six Times Square….please hurry….my friend isn’t breathing…” 

You shook Mikey’s shoulders again. His eyes fluttered open, but his pupils were like pinpricks. He gasped and choked, like he couldn’t get air into his lungs. 

“Come on, Mikey, hang in there!” you begged. Oh god, what if he died?!

You could see the headlines now. World Tour Canceled After Bassist’s Hospitalization. You’d wanted more time with Frank….but not like this, damnit! 

Since when did your oldest friend’s kid brother do smack?! 

I really don’t know anything about them anymore, you realized, tears clouding your vision as you listened to him wheeze. Minutes felt like hours. 

“Out of the way!” called an unfamiliar voice, and you gaped as two paramedics dragged a stretcher down the stairs. 

“Ma’am, we need to move him,” a uniformed woman barked. “Time is of the essence.” 

You let the EMT scoop Mikey up, and load him onto the gurney. 

“What did he take?” the second paramedic asked. 

“I….I don’t know,” you stammered. “We just found him like this.” 

“Ma’am,” the man pressed, “we’re not here to judge anybody. But, any information you have, can help us figure out what antidote he needs…”

“Here,” Frank said. “I found this next to his body.” 

He handed the paramedic a needle. Oh, god. 

“I see,” the paramedic nodded grimly. “Judith! Get this man two milligrams of naloxone, stat!” 

“Is….is he gonna be okay?!” Gerard gasped, tears in his eyes. “That’s my baby brother….”

“We’re going to try our best to save him, sir,” the female paramedic (Judith) promised. “We need to move him to the hospital, as soon as possible.” 

“We’re only going to be able to fit two extra people in the ambulance,” the male paramedic warned. “Who’s going?” 

“Me,” Gerard said immediately. “He’s my family!” 

“Who else?” the paramedic demanded. “We don’t have time to waste.” 

Mikey gasped for air on the gurney, his face growing bluer by the minute. 

“I’ll go,” Ray decided. “Frank, you stay here with Y/N, okay?” 

“O-okay,” Frank stammered. You clung to him,shaking, as you watched the paramedics drag your friend out of the hallway, to the ambulance waiting outside. 

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

“.....Happy New Year!” the oblivious voice of Ryan Seacrest rang out from the television screen, as you walked back into the hotel room, wiping your eyes on your sleeve. 

Confetti was falling in Times Square, as the credits rolled. You’d missed the countdown. There had been no toast, no midnight kiss (although perhaps, the latter had been foolish to even hope for.) 

“This wasn’t how 2007 was supposed to start,” Frank sobbed, sinking down onto the bed. “Fuck!” 

“H-he’s gonna be okay,” you stammered. “The doctors are gonna save his life…”

“You don’t know that!” Frank cried, kicking a bottle of Dom Perignon off the coffee table. It shattered, sending broken glass and alcohol all over the floor. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry, Y/N,” Frank apologized, kneeling to pick up the shards. “I shouldn’t have done that…”

“Ssh, stop, you’re gonna cut yourself,” you warned, grabbing his hands. “We can clean that up later, okay? I understand that you’re only lashing out, because you’re scared…” 

“Of course I’m scared,” Frank wept, burying his head in your shoulder. “That’s one of my best friends.” 

“He’s my friend, too,” you said softly, stroking Frank’s hair. “I’m scared, too, but there’s nothing we can do now, but pray.” 

You sat down on the bed, and Frank sat with you, still sobbing into your shirt. You were choking back tears yourself. 

“I….I didn’t know he was doing that stuff,” you said guiltily. “I’m never around you guys anymore….I….”

“I didn’t realize the extent of the problem, either,” Frank confessed. “And I’m with the kid almost every day. I should’ve noticed, but I was too self absorbed, doing my own dumb shit…” 

“Ssh, it’s not your fault, Frankie,” you soothed. “We got him, to the people that can help him. That’s all we can do.” 

“It doesn’t feel like enough,” Frank sniffed, still clinging to you tightly. 

“No,” you agreed, your heart aching, “it doesn’t.” 

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

You woke the next morning, to the feeling of warmth against your side. Your eyes fluttered open, and you realized that Frank was sleeping next to you. What?!

Your cheeks reddened as you stared at his sleeping face, so close to your own. “...Frank? Why are you…?”

Reality filtered back into your head, slowly, as you recalled the events of the previous night. Oh god….Mikey! 

Was he okay? You still didn’t know. You and Frank had sat beside each other on the hotel room bed, crying, clinging to each other for comfort. You supposed you had fallen asleep like that. 

“.....Huh?” Frank groaned sleepily. “Y/N…?” 

He shot up, jerking away from you, almost as soon as he realized, that your bodies were touching. “I...I’m sorry!”

“N-no, it’s fine…” you stammered. 

“Fuck….I need to check my messages,” Frank realized, groping for his cell phone on the bedside table. He sat up,and put his feet on the floor. “Owww!”

“What’s wrong?” you gasped. 

“I just stepped on a shard of the bottle I broke last night...fuck!” Frank swore. 

“Oh no,” you winced. “Is it bleeding?” 

“No, it’s just cut a little,” Frank shook his head. 

“Do you want me to call the front desk,” you offered, “and see if they can bring up some Band-Aids?”

“No, it’s not that serious,” Frank insisted, opening his flip phone. His eyes widened, as he clicked through his inbox. “Oh….oh, thank god…” 

“What?” you demanded. 

“Ray texted me, around like two in the morning,” Frank explained. “He said Mikey’s gonna make it. The doctors were able to reverse the overdose in time, and he’s gonna make a full recovery.”

“Oh, thank goodness!” you cried, tearing up from sheer relief. You had been so scared, that Ray’s text, would say that Mikey hadn’t survived. He’s gonna be okay. He’s alive. 

Frank, however, didn’t share your grateful smile. 

“What’s wrong?” you asked. 

“I’m sorry that you had to see that, last night,” Frank frowned. “We ruined your New Year’s Eve.” 

“It’s not your fault,” you shook your head. “I’m glad I was there, to help you find him. I wouldn’t have wanted you to go through this alone.” 

“I hate to ask you for even more help,” Frank grimaced, “but, we need to clean this shit up.”

“You’re right,” you nodded, leaning down to help him pick up the glass shards. “It wouldn’t be fair, to leave it for the hotel staff to pick up.” 

“Some bands dig trashing hotel rooms,” Frank sighed, grabbing a towel from the bathroom, to mop up the puddle of champagne. “Not me, though. I feel bad, making a mess, that some housekeeper is gonna have to deal with.” 

He’s a kind person, you thought to yourself, as you carefully placed the pieces of bottle into a waste basket. Not everyone would take the time to do this, after the night we had. 

“Shit, look at this,” Frank sighed, pointing down at the hardwood floor. “Nobody blew out the stupid scented candle, that Housekeeping lit before we checked in, to make the place smell pretty. Now, there’s dried wax all over the floorboards.” 

“You had bigger things to worry about last night,” you reminded. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even notice the candle was still burning, with everything else going on. I would’ve reminded you to put it out.” 

“That’s not your job,” Frank said, pulling a guitar pick from his pocket. He tried to use it to scrape some of the wax up, but it didn’t seem to want to budge. “None of this is your job.” 

“What do you mean?” you blinked. 

“You said last night, that you don’t see us for months at a time,” Frank reasoned, scraping harder with his pick. “And then...last night, you finally see us again, and this happens.”  

“You couldn’t have predicted something like that,” you assured him. 

“We complicate your life, Y/N,” Frank frowned. “I complicate your life. You don’t need this fucking drama. The best thing I could for you, is probably just leave you alone. Stop inviting you to see us when we’re in town. I’ve grown apart from a lot of friends since I left New Jersey. Why can’t I just let this relationship go, too?” 

“I don’t want you to do that!” you protested. “Frank, our friendship is really important to me. I would be miserable if you suddenly stopped inviting me to hang out.” 

“I don’t just want to hang out with you,” Frank mumbled. “I want more than that.” 

“....Huh?” you cocked your head. 

“But it’s not fair, for me to ask you for that,” Frank signed. “Not when I know damn well, that I’m about to spend the majority of 2007, hundreds of miles away from you.” 

“Ask me for what?” you demanded. You suddenly remembered the words, he had spoken to you on the balcony, before your night had gone straight to hell. 

“I wouldn’t look twice, at any of those girls, if  a certain someone, told me, that she wanted me to be hers, and hers alone.”

“Nothing,” Frank murmured, picking fruitlessly at the wax on the floor again. “It’s stupid. Ignore me.”

“I won’t ignore it,” you insisted. “Frank, what were you going to ask me?” 

Frank looked at his shoes. 

You sat down on the floor next to him, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder. “....Frank?” 

“I was going to ask you...to be mine,” Frank confessed. 

You gasped, audibly. No way….he really felt the same way about you, that you did about him?!

“But, it’s not right, for me to ask you, to make that commitment to me!” Frank said miserably. “Not when I’m just gonna disappear on you again. And...you saw, last night, what my life has turned into. What my band has turned into. I’m a mess….why would you want to be with someone like me?” 

“Frankie, I love you,” you said plainly. Now that you knew he returned your feelings, there was no point in hiding it anymore. “I’ve loved you for years.” 

He raised his head to look at you. His hazel eyes, swimming with tears again, stared into yours. “You….you mean that?” 

“Yes,” you said emotionally. “I’ve been in love with you for so long….but, you’re a famous rock star now. I’m still just an art school dropout. You can do so much better than me.” 

“Funny,” Frank chuckled bitterly, “I was about to say the same thing, about you.”

“Frank, there isn’t anybody better than you,” you sighed, and grabbed him by the collar, pulling him into a searing kiss. 

His lips met yours, hesitant at first, but then suddenly you were toppling to the floor, as he pressed himself against you, with four years worth of buried desire. 

Life was so short. You realized that now. 

His hands tangled into your hair as he kissed you over and over. “Be mine,” he gasped, coming up for air. “Please be mine, Y/N….even if it fucks up everything…” 

“Frankie, it’s okay,” you assured him, as you gazed up at him tenderly. “I don’t care if you’re gone a hundred nights. You’re worth waiting for. Just promise me, that when you do finally come home, I can….have you.” 

“Oh, you can have me any way you want me,” Frank breathed, leaning down to kiss you passionately again. “I won’t touch anyone else while I’m away on tour….nobody else is as beautiful as you. You’re the only one that I want.”

“You’re the only one that I want, too, Frankie,” you promised him, claiming his mouth once again. “I want you every day. Not just when you’re the toast of the town. Not just when times are good. I want to be there with you, through the bad times, too. I want to help you when you’re scared, or even when something fucked up happens, like last night... because I love you. I’ll stay with you, no matter what….even when it’s hard, or it’s wrong, or you’re making mistakes. I don’t care. I just want to be with you.” 

“I want to be with you, too, Y/N,” Frank vowed, kissing your eyes, your nose, your mouth. It was like he couldn’t get enough. “You’re the woman I choose….because, hey, there might be lots of women who’d love to be my New Year’s Eve kiss. But, you’re the only woman I know, who would stick by my side, helping me clean up bottles on New Year’s Day.”

#frank iero x reader #frank iero imagine #substance abuse tw

[purplesurveys]

907

Are you one of those lucky people to own a walk-in closet? lol lucky people. No I don’t have one of those. Is there a random object you own that has a huge personal significance? Well it’s more significant today because we had our virtual graduation this morning... so I’ll go with my graduation sash. Ever since I started university I’ve always wanted to wear my own sash in a physical ceremony so again, it sucks that our batch got affected by the pandemic. Do you use Google? For just about everything, yeah. Would you like to go swimming right now? That would be soooooo so nice. I’ve been going through old vacation photos and I really miss the beach. Can you play electric guitar? Nope.

Do you have an HDTV? My parents do. When was the last time you drank something through a straw? Around a month ago when my dad bought milk teas for me and my sister. Have you ever tried to teach yourself a different language? I didn’t teach myself per se, but I have tried my hand learning Spanish on Duolingo several times. It always comes in phases – I get passionate about learning and use the app for weeks, then it kinda burns out after a while. Right now I haven’t used it since I got sick in May. How long was your last phone call? A little longer than an hour, I think. It was pure silence though; we just wanted to hear each other’s surroundings. Do you need to repaint your nails? No, I never get it painted. Has there ever been a horoscope that came true for you? Psh. Are you a fan of industrial metal? Holy shit I feel so stupid right now. I thought this was referring to a literal kind of metal and I thought, that is such an odd thing to be a fan of...Google quickly taught me that it is in fact NOT a material for building infrastructure jdsskfjskf. Anyway, no I am not a fan. Are you one of those people who chew two pieces of gum, not one? Yeah, occasionally. I don’t like how one piece loses flavor all too quickly so I go ahead and pop two in. Do you have a wall calendar? Not since 2008. We only had a wall calendar in our old house; when we moved here we started to rely on digital clocks and our phones to tell the time. Have you ever taken the pictures from a calendar and used them as posters? I haven’t had a calendar like that, so no. I’ve done this with magazines though. Can you handle the cold? Hahaha no, I can’t. I was already in so much pain in 20ºC weather in Sagada, and I fared much worse in 12ºC Japan weather. I would still pick living in a colder climate in a heartbeat over a tropical one, though. Have you ever been to Canada? Nope.  Do you believe in superstitions? Just one superstition involving my university that doubles as an inside joke, so it’s not like I take it 100% seriously. It’s a generations-old joke that’s impossible to ignore if you’re a student, so I just jumped in. When was the last time you took a taxi somewhere? It was from the airport to back home, but I forgot where we landed from. Bohol I think? Palawan? I don’t even know anymore. It was so inconvenient I begged my dad that we stop using taxis as transportation for our future trips. Would you ever join the army, airforce or navy? No. How old is the person you last kissed? 22. Is there a friend that you can always rely on to get you out of a jam? I don’t think so. When it comes down to it they all have their own different things going on and I can’t just call them whenever and expect them to come to me, and that’s okay. Generally though, I think my most reliable friends are probably Andrew and Angela. What was the most embarassing thing you've had to buy? I’ve never felt embarrassed by anything I had to buy, but it can get a little uncomfortable trying to buy napkins when my dress or pants are already soaked. I get over it quickly though, since menstruations are normal lol. Have you ever tried to balance the light switch between off and on? When I was a kid. I haven’t tried it in a while. Do you believe in ghosts / supernatural occurences? They’re fun to think about, sure, and I do enjoy watching the supernatural episodes of Buzzfeed Unsolved where they go ghost-hunting. I like to think that they somehow exist, but I still also very much maintain my skepticism at all times. Have you ever mistaken a person's gender? I’ve used the wrong pronouns accidentally but I always correct myself and apologize once I’ve noticed my blunder. What was the most expensive thing you've broken? My old iPhones. I’ve also sported a few dents on my car, but I wouldn’t say I broke the car. Has anyone texted you yet today? Not text, but online chat. We had our virtual graduation this morning so my inbox was swamped with congratulatory messages and such. Did you stay calm during the whole swine flu scare? I did, but I mean I was 11 and had no clue how serious it was supposed to be. I remember cheering when they suspended classes for a week because of a local swine flu case, so yep – still ignorant back then. Is there a light on in the room you're currently in? There is, but it isn’t turned on. Are your feet touching the floor? Nope, they’re on the bed. Have you ever been in a car accident? Mild ones, nothing too life-threatening. Do you usually make back-up plans? Yeah man I’m so anxious I always have at least plans A-C lined up in my head and ready to go whenever necessary. Can you focus well in high-stress situations? Usually. Without the aid of mascara, do you have long eyelashes? I do. I get compliments on it all the time too. I didn’t realize it was apparently a nice feature to have until more and more people pointed it out haha. Is there a kind of music you listen to that helps you release your anger? Yeah I have a playlist that’s lined up with all of my favorite loud, angry punk rock music specifically for when I’m pissed off. Are you one of those people who keep their feelings bottled up? I can, particularly whenever I feel like it’s not worth it to blow up. Is one of your friends extremely odd but you love them regardless? Not really. Aya’s pretty weird but I wouldn’t call her extremely odd. Is there anyone you dread going into public with? My mom when she’s mad. Are you a victim of writing run-on sentences? For the most part, I wouldn’t say so. If I write a run-on sentence it’s almost always in an informal setting where I’m more loose with punctuation, like if I’m chatting on IM or writing an answer on here. Still, I try to avoid them and I never do it in a formal situation. Graffiti: an art or an act of vandalism? They can be both. Some people who genuinely just want to fuck around vandalize, like how I’ve seen “Mark <3 Erica” in spray paint on public walls or some similar shit lol. But a lot of graffiti are art as well; many have important messages or symbolisms to say. Do you buy things online? I’ve done it a few times. Not regularly. I like being able to see and touch something before buying it. Are you easily frightened? I definitely am but at the same time I’m really into horror movies and serial killers and a ghost-hunting series? Hahaha it’s weird. I guess I enjoy the thrill that comes with having those interests. Do you have a favorite model? Over the years I’ve loved Elizabeth Jane Bishop, Kiko Mizuhara, Taylor Marie Hill, Gigi Hadid, Bella Hadid, and (controversial pick!) Kendall Jenner. Have you ever watched Titanic? So many times. Honestly, one of my favorites. What's your current facebook display picture of? It’s my official graduation photo wearing my graduation sash! :) I finally changed it last Friday after I got the email saying I’m on the list of graduates. How about your IM display picture? My main IM is my Messenger, which also uses my Facebook photo. Is there anyone whose hair you envy? Gabie’s for one. Hers is really smooth and silky and wavy. Would you act in a movie if it offered a role? If I was going to be a mostly unseen extra in a blockbuster film and still be paid like $600 for it, then I don’t see why I wouldn’t take it. Does speaking in front of people make you nervous? Only if there’s going to be an unscripted aspect to it that’ll make me have to come up with answers on the spot, like miting de avances or thesis defense. If I have a script or even just a general gist of what I want to say, I have no problem improvising and speaking in front of a crowd. Can you read in a moving vehicle or does it make you sick? It makes me sick but it hasn’t stopped me before. Have you ever dated someone who was extremely shy? I’m the extremely shy person... Or have you dated someone who took things too fast? I felt that way with Gab at first when she wanted to have sex like two months after we started dating, though I was scared mainly because it was going to be my first time and I wanted to make sure I was comfortable. Now that I’m a little older, two months seems like a healthy amount of time. Does the idea of driving 220 mph sound exciting to you? Sounds terrifying. It could be fun, but only if we’re in the middle of nowhere where there’s loads of space to go that fast and no chance of crashing. Everyone has a weakness, what's yours? Food. Do you or anyone you know have an account on Deviantart? I had classmates in high school who had accounts but I’m not sure if they still have it, or if Deviantart is even still as active as I knew it to be. Thoughts on the Dunkin Donut commercial that says "America runs on Dunkin'"?  It’s a creative slogan but if I was American I wouldn’t want a doughnut place claiming to represent my country. It cute though. Do you bother buying movies on DVD anymore or do you just download them? I watch them on Netflix, which is still technically like buying them since we pay for the subscription anyway. Do you listen to Daughtry? No. Do you get your eyebrows waxed? I don’t. Waxing looks so painful to me. How do you take your coffee? Lots of creamer or milk, a little sugar. I like trying out different coffees, but when I’m simply relaxing I do want my coffee as least bitter as possible.  If you have a dog, what breed is it? I have an aspin mix, though we never figured out what Kimi’s other half is. And I also have a beagle. Have you found someone who makes you unconditionally happy? I don’t know if 'unconditionally’ is possible but yes, I do have people who make me very happy. Do you have a friend who always seems to be dying their hair? Not anymore. Jo used to dye her hair like every month though and she must have been able to go through the entire rainbow. She looked sooo good in each of the colors. Would you swap names with a friend? I love all their names but I don’t see why that would be necessary. Do you plan on going to university? I did. I graduated today. Guys who wear muscle shirts, yes or no? Idk man, they can wear whatever they want. Are you a fan of Carrie Underwood? No. I liked some of her singles when I was younger, but I’m not a fan in that I have her albums and know her lesser-known songs. Do you make playlists on iTunes? I used to, when I still used iTunes. I make playlists on Spotify now. Have you ever forgotten someone's birthday? I don’t think so. Are you scared of being left behind? Yessir. I’m super competitive, so I hate the feeling. Do you remember your last dream? No. I’m really bad at remembering them unless they’re nightmares or insanely strange. I do know that I dreamt while we were watching mass earlier on the television though, hahaha. Do you know someone who is an obsessed Star Wars fan? So many people in my circle are. Is politics something you don't care about? No. If there’s anything I give tons of fucks about, it’s that. What's a movie/tvshow/book/series that is way overrated? I’ll go with the first things I thought of...in that order: To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before; Stranger Things (it’s good, but not as good as people hyped it to be); I don’t really read anymore; and what do you mean by series? Just realized I only gave 2 out of 4 answers lol oh well. Do you think Barbie presents an unhealthy image to young girls? I don’t like how its physical features are still unrealistic; but I appreciate their attempts at diversity. I can’t say it was upsetting seeing a Filipino-themed Barbie :) Is there a pet that you desperately want? All I ever wanted were dogs, and now I’ve got two of them. Would you ever get your bellybutton pierced? Nope. Are you musically talented? Hahahahaha Have you ever shot a gun? Not a real one, so no. Athenna’s dad had this practice gun he used for target practice (duh) and I messed with that a few times. Do you have a friend that always changes their mind last second? That’s Gabie. She’s lucky she’s my girlfriend and that I love her, because it’s actually a big pet peeve of mine. Are you not afraid to voice your opinion? Yup. The only time I don’t say it out loud is if it’s unnecessary and if it’s going to be simply disrespectful. An example would be when my uncle offered to make me a carrot cake for my grad gift, and I just said yes because it was already generous enough for him to offer me a free cake when he runs a food business. In reality it’s not my favorite cake at all; it wouldn’t even be in my top 20. Are you one of those people who are always pushing their limits? Yes, I definitely overwork myself to the point of exhaustion and burnout. But I honestly prefer doing things and being busy than sitting around. Is there a word that you will always find humorous? Bubbling. Because Drake and Josh.

Do you frown upon immature people? Typically. Have you ever slipped on ice and hurt yourself? This may have happened to me once or twice when I was still regularly visiting the ice skating rink at the mall. People were always super nice and helped me get up, though. Do you try to have an intimidating impression? I don’t try. Apparently it’s naturally the vibe I give off. Living in the big city or chilling in the country? BIG CITY. Always the big city. I’ve gone to the country/province so many times; I already know what it’s like there. I’ll always prefer a noisy city. No one seems to obey the legal drinking age, do they? Hahahaha a lot seem not to. I know so many high school kids who’ve had a drink before turning 18. Do you like your country's flag? Sure. I like that we can switch up the colors depending on if we’re at war or not. Have you ever made a totally amazing snow fort? I’ve never even seen snow before. Do you use Bounty Paper Towels? No. Are you the one usually behind the camera or the one in the picture? BEHIND If you get married, will you have a traditional wedding? Traditional, yes. Religious, no. Do you feel you’re slowly losing one of your friends? No. But now that I’m no longer in school, I really hope I’ll continue to be friends with my orgmates. I’ll certainly keep in touch as much as I can. If you draw, what's one thing you always have trouble with? Everything about it. Is there someone you know moving away any time soon? No. I do know my friend’s sister had already moved and started her new job in California, but when the pandemic started she had to go back here. This virus is just ruining so many great things for everyone, man... Allergic to anything? Nope. How many cars have you owned? Zero. I drive one; can’t say I own it because my parents bought it. What are you going to do after this? Maybe take another survey.

#survey #surveys

[barnesthesarge]

I Found: pt 8

Bucky X enhanced!Reader

Warnings: nada ??

Summary: as someone trying to get their life together, Bucky understands why you’re not coming around right away. He’s helpful in every way possible but there’s something more to his actions, when you get taken away from him you start to notice that.

Y/N had been discharged a week ago, and everyone started to notice that she came out of her room more. Even if she was just reading, or listening to music. A couple times at dinner she actually joined in the conversation.

Bucky started to give her space, he kept staying around her like a lost puppy, and everyone else was starting to catch on.

“Why don’t you just ask her out already?” Sam had teased for the fourth time this week.

“Because she doesn’t like me like that.” Bucky answered.

Nat was getting sick of hearing the same argument, she decided to go talk to Y/N about it. She knocked on her bedroom door and waited.

The door opened, “Hey Nat, what’s up?” Y/N had her shades open and was watering a small plant.

“I wanted to ask you something, about Barnes.” The door shut behind her and she walked to stand next to Y/N.

“Alright, what about him?” She sat down on her large windowsill, Nat sitting beside her.

“What’s your guys’ relationship? Y/N shot her a weird look.

“We’re friends? Natasha what’s this about?” She laughed warmly with a blush creeping to her ears.

“Well, I see the way you two look at each other, and he follows you around like a loyal dog. But both of you say you’re friends.” Natasha was studying Y/N’s reaction for any hint of attraction, but Y/N was well guarded.

“We look at each other like friends. He’s just looking out for me.” She rubbed her neck where the disk once was.

“You keep telling yourself that.” Natasha left the room and Y/N started to think about it, was there really anything more to Bucky’s actions?

——————

Natasha barged into Bucky’s room, where he was having a conversation with Steve, “Barnes.”

“Jesus do you not know how to knock? We’re having a personal discussion.” Bucky groaned.

“Ask Y/N out. I just talked to her, she’s definitely into you.” Bucky blushed.

“I’m sorry w-what? Did you tell her? Nat this is so not cool.” Bucky buries his face in his hands.

“Of course not. I just asked her what her relationship with you was and she said the same thing as you, and she had a look on her face that suggested otherwise.” She winked, “See ya’ boys. Goodluck Barnes.”

—————

“Tony.” Y/N walked into the open office, Tony was bent over his desk, and using a magnifying glass to work on something.

“Hey Y/N what’s up?” He abandoned the project and came to hug her.

She accepted the hug, “I was wondering if you could go with me to a music store in town. I want to get a guitar.” He furrowed his brows.

“Why don’t you ask Bucky,” He shot her a wink, “you two seem to be getting along pretty well.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, “How come everyone sees it but me? So is that a yes or a no?” Tony studied her carefully.

“Y/N you and I both know you see it too, and sure I will. Just let me change really quick.” He left to his bathroom and Y/N decided to look at what he was making.

It looked like some sort of power source, she shrugged and waited for him, when he came out she finally spoke up, “What are you working on?”

“Oh, that? It’s an implant, for you. So I guess my trackers were bad so I’m designing a new one, and this was can prevent anyone from muting your powers. I think it’s a worthy project.” Tony looked at her to see her reaction, she grinned.

“Thank you Tony, that means a lot to me.” They started walking towards the elevator.

“I couldn’t have done it without you anyways, that disk you had in your neck? I kept it to see it’s properties. They connected that thing to your nervous system, like with Bucky’s arm? But they did it to cancel your powers. Whoever designed your powers, and this neck disk, really knew what they were doing.”

“That makes sense, well kinda. I don’t understand most of what you said, you’re too smart for me.” They went down the elevator and started heading to a music store.

“So what’s with the sudden guitar interest?” Tony asked when they walked in, the bell jingling.

“I used to play before I was taken. Not very good but I want to take it back up.”

“Hi welcome to Hoffman’s Music, would you like any help with anything?” An employee asked, Y/N asked where the guitars were and she led them to the guitars. “We have electric and acoustic.”

“Do you guys have any that are acoustic and electric?” Tony asked, the employee nodded and showed him the three they had in stock.

“Tony those are expensive as hell.” Y/N mumbled when the employee walked away.

“Eh so be it, I owe you a couple after what you went through.” She shook her head.

“That was a set up, none of us could’ve known that.” He chuckled.

“Well I shouldn’t have made you go—“ Y/N’s phone started ringing, it was Bucky. “Answer that.” Y/N stepped away and answered.

“Hey Bucky what’s up?” Y/N watched Tony bring one of the guitars to the register and sighed.

“Where are you? Are you safe?” He asked and Y/N heard his evident panic.

“I’m at Hoffman’s with Tony, don’t worry I’m completely safe. Are you alright?” She heard him huff.

“I am now that I know you’re okay. I’ve been looking for you for fifteen minutes Y/N. Please tell me you’re leaving next time.”

“Bucky, last time I checked you aren’t my dad. I can come and go as I please. Take a chill pill and text me next time.” She snapped into the phone.

“I know that Y/N, I’m sorry doll,” the nickname slipped again, “After what happened I just got worried. I’m sorry.”

“What’s going on? With you? Ever since I got back you’ve been really protective.”

“Can we talk about it? Like in person, when you get back or something?” Y/N rolled her eyes but agreed.

“Alright I gotta go, Tony’s trying to buy everything in the store. See you.” She hung up and led Tony out of the store.

“Tony you fool, how dare you spend all that on a guitar!” He started chuckling.

“I just ordered a kazoo too, I’m gonna annoy the hell outta Steve.”

—————

Y/N carried her guitar in a new case and set it onto her bed, she opened the case and pulled it out, it was stunning. Dark mahogany wood, beautiful golden accents, Y/N started to think it was too good to play.

“I see you got a guitar.” Bucky strolled in and sat down on her bed, “Can we talk?” He asked hopefully. Y/N closed the door with her mind and nodded, she pulled out her guitar tuner app and started tuning it.

“What’s up Buckaroo?” She teased but Bucky didn’t even smile, he seemed tense.

“About us...Nat said she talked to you.” Y/N stopped tuning.

“She did yeah,” she closed her phone and set the guitar off her lap.

“I-uh, do you like me?” Y/N felt heat rising to her cheeks, she wasn’t sure how to answer that.

“Well we’re friends, so yeah I like you. I wouldn’t hang out with you if I didn’t.” He clenched his jaw.

“Y/N you and I both know I’m talking about something more.” He didn’t turn to look at her.

“What do you want me to say?”

“The truth.” Y/N realized he probably wanted to only ever be friends, but she understood. She was a couple handfuls, he had his own problems, why would he want hers. Besides, she didn’t even know if she liked him or not.

“I don’t know. Sometimes I think I do, sometimes I realize I’m not good enough to be with anyone, let alone you. I understand why you just want to be friends, I promise I won’t let it ruin any—“ Bucky cut her off.

“Y/N I’m asking because I like you, I don’t want to be friends I want to be more. I’ve wanted to be more for so so long, probably since I first laid my eyes on you.” She shook her head.

“That was infatuation obviously, you barely know anything about me. I tell you a couple things about myself and then it’s this?” She gestured between the two of them.

“Y/N, do you just want to be friends? And from what you’ve told me, I don’t see what there is to not fall for you. You make me so happy, in ways no one else does. I’m not explaining my feelings, I shouldn’t have to.”

Y/N but her bottom lip, “Bucky I can’t even take care of myself half the time. I wouldn’t be a good girlfriend, I’m not even a good friend. I’m distant and moody and I have an awful attitude.”

“That’s because you hide yourself just like I did! You’re not a good friend, you’re a great friend! You’ve done nothing but consider me, this past week has been one of the best of my life. Taking care of you is nice, talking to you is nice, hell being around you is nice. I feel a pull between us, just tell me you feel it too, if you don’t I’ll leave you alone about it and I’ll never mention it again.”

“Bucky..” He stared into her eyes with hope, surely she had to feel it too.

“Y/N?” He waited, his eyes slowly losing their brightness.

“Okay yes I feel a pull, Christ. You’re not making this easy.” Bucky grinned, “I’m not ready for a relationship or labels or anything, but we can give this—us, a try. Alright?”

“We can go at your pace, we don’t have to do this right away Y/N whenever you’re ready.”

—————

@yafriendlyfangirl @animegirlgeeky

“Y/N wait! You forgot this!” Y/N’s Dad yelled after her as she was about to leave for the mall. She turned around as her dad handed her a twenty dollar bill, “Get yourself some lunch while you’re there, on me.”

“Thank you Dad! I gotta go, I love you.” She hugged her dad again and waved by to her mom. “I’ll see you guys later!”

“Don’t eat too much, I’m making your favorite tonight!” Her mom called.

“I won’t. See you soon!” She disappeared outside the door and climbed into her friends car.

Sometimes Y/N felt that fate had a cruel way of telling her things, like the fact she never returned to her family. Y/N strummed her guitar slowly, living for the current feel it gave as it pressed into her fingers. She was studying her sisters instagram, her sister was in New York, right now, and Y/N wouldn’t dare ruin her trip for her before college.

“Doll, what’s troubling you?” Bucky asked, he had been listening to her play for an hour.

“My sister’s in New York right now.” She clenched her jaw sadly.

“Let’s go see her.” Bucky urged and sat up.

“No. She’s always wanted to visit New York and I won’t ruin her trip by truth bombing her and seeing her. I wish I could just be frozen right now. Wake me up in a hundred years.” Y/N sighed and put her guitar back in its case.

“Doll, you wanna know something? This is going to sound harsh and all, but at least you still have a family. I would give anything to see my little sister again, but I can’t. I outlived her and she never got to see me again. You have the opportunity to see her, so do yourself and her a favor, and do it.”

“I just...Alright.”

“Good, FRIDAY, find Y/N’s sister.”

“Right away, Bucky.” The A.I. responded.

—————

#bucky barnes #james barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #mcu #marvel #bucky imagine #bucky x reader #bucky x you #fanfiction

[itsjustkind]

WISHLIST!!

it’s long so it’s under the cut. includes: general, ships, and specifics for individual characters. if my theme is being weird (apparently it has been recently??) I can post individual sections for people, not under a read more, or send them on im.

General || open to everyone (including characters specified below)

Discussion of the confession dial and its impact on the Doctor, particularly immediately afterwards. (Paranoia, sleeping difficulties etc.)

AU where the Doctor’s blindness doesn’t get fixed by monks that somehow have the power to do that

this (the tags)

this

brainwashing/mind control plots where the Doctor no longer feels like he’s the Doctor

the Doctor needing rescuing because he hates it lol (captured/taken into a holding cell/interrogated and stuff like that)

more Professor Docco stuff. AUs where specific muses are present in series 10?

Ships || open to established ship partners (meaning we’ve had more than one ship thread, or at least discussed a relationship between our muses. if you’re not sure just send me an im!)

The Doctor working out how he feels about touch. Which affection he likes and doesn’t like, what’s acceptable to him on bad touch days, how much touching he likes on a good day etc. but I’d especially like him to feel that his partner is supporting him through that? and understands that he doesn’t know it himself and needs help with working it out? (his experiences with being understood are Not Good in series 8. literally in his first episode he’s basically rejected by Clara and I think that does have a lasting impact. I just want him to feel like someone understands and is still going to love him no matter what?)

The Doctor learning to accept help. I mean look at this idiot, he won’t even accept help when he’s blind. Maybe with a minor injury or something? Something he would normally ignore until it gets worse, but a partner convinces him it’s worth letting them help with it. (hint: he accepts help if he believes it’s to make someone else feel better) He then discovers it isn’t so bad after all, and maybe next time he’ll have a tiny bit more trust and let them know when he needs help. If we have a verse together, this trust will be present in any of our other threads in our verse.

Protectiveness. Both the Doctor being protective of his partner, and them being protective of him. 50% of him is like ‘no I don’t need any protecting, I can handle this person attacking me just fine even if I am bleeding in multiple places’ and the other 50% is like ‘you....like me enough to be protective??? over me???’

Hair stroking. The Doctor loves it and will sign up for that at any opportunity

Playfights?? The Doctor is initially good at them, because of his height, but that means he can be easily pushed off balance and generally isn’t coordinated enough to fight back as strongly once he’s lost his upper hand. (rub it in his face when he loses. he’s too smug about his height and someone needs to do something about that)

Make it clear to him that he’s loved and wanted? 

Babies. Twelve has dad skills and I want him to use them in a context where he actually gets to be a dad or dad-figure rather than just have brief contact with a child.

Specific to Missy || requested by @drapetxmaniia

The Doctor doesn’t leave Missy on Skaro (I think it was ooc for him and I want to rewrite it)

Instead of locking Missy in the Vault, he invites her to travel with him for the duration of her ‘sentence’, providing that ultimately she’s under his protection.

More Vault threads --- they have seventy years worth of content there!

The Doctor and Missy being friends and talking and spending time together like friends do?

The Doctor breaking his oath because he’s rubbish at keeping things like that and taking her on secret trips behind Nardole’s back

Specific to Simm Master || requested by @drapetxmaniia

The Doctor apologises for not coming to look for him after the End of Time

Rewrite the whole of the Doctor Falls challenge, because I don’t like things that happen in it (actually this can apply to Missy too)

An AU where Simm Master is in the Vault/travelling with the Doctor, and we entirely ignore the Doctor Falls and give the Master the opportunity to reform and develop a relationship with the Doctor without being compared to his future self :)))))))))))))))

Fobwatched Twelfth Doctor working for Harold Saxon and feeling strangely drawn to him

The Doctor really struggling to hide spoilers from him about Missy 

The Doctor encountering him while travelling alone, and trying to initiate conversation without revealing his own identity (it probably doesn’t work because he’s an idiot but the Master goes along with it for a bit anyway maybe?) anyway this could happen in any of his canon gaps (after Death in Heaven but before Last Christmas, after Hell Bent but before THORS, after the 24 years on Darillium but before series 10)

Specific to Clara Oswald

Clara encountering the Doctor after Hell Bent and something going wrong with the neural block which causes him to remember her

More just hanging out? They’re so close in series 9 that I’d love them to just chill together sometimes

The Doctor playing electric guitar really loudly and annoyingly while Clara is trying to sleep

The Doctor going undercover at her school again

Genuine threats to her safety, causing the Doctor to pull out his whole ‘duty of care’ thing when they’re safe again. all that angst.

Specific to Jack Harkness || requested by @canspotatimeagent

Discussion of immortality and losing people because they have that kind of grief in common

The Doctor taking Jack back in as a companion

The Doctor encountering Jack soon after one of his losses where there’s a gap in canon (after Death in Heaven but before Last Christmas, after Hell Bent but before THORS, after the 24 years on Darillium but before series 10)

The Doctor being rubbish at sticking to his oath and taking an impulse trip in the TARDIS and ending up finding Jack

Specific to River Song

The first few months spent on Darillium, with the Doctor’s worries and fears about the commitment he’s made and the impact of that

The Doctor having issues caused by his time in the confession dial, including sleeping difficulties, paranoia and constant keeping time, and finally talking to River about them.

River helping the Doctor relax about touch and hugging because even though he does get used to it in series 9, he’ll still only really accept it from Clara because she’s closest to him and he’s had time to relax around her

The Doctor dealing with the fact that he can’t just fly off whenever he’s feeling vulnerable (sick, upset etc.) and actually needs to let River support him

AU where River doesn’t die and she’s around in series 10 to see him being a professor

#wishlist | all of time and all of space #wow i didn't think this would be that long #anyway if you're interested in any of this PLEASE let me know and i'll im you/send an ask/make a starter #i might edit this later if i think of more stuff idk

[random-storykeeper]

My OHC compilation video is here! This time, I showcase all 29 entries I’ve submitted for One Hour Compos in 2018. The cover art in the centre of the thumbnail is done by my friend catnippackets and I still can’t get over how amazing it is that she took the time to make it for me. :)

Last time I did one of these compilation videos, I made it so that the blurbs I wrote about the individual pieces was on its own, private post. I forgot you could do read mores on video posts, so this time I figured, why not just make this all public? That’s in the full post below:

OHC 482 "Connect the Dots" - When the first OHC of 2018 kicked off, I had a lot of trouble thinking of ideas on how to approach this theme. Eventually, I just settled for keeping things simple, using chiptune with a little bit of guitar to create a more pleasant little nighttime piece.

OHC 483 "Patternwork" - When I first saw the images, I wanted to be direct as possible in terms of my theme approach musically. I would use guitars as my choice of string instruments to convey the “threads” and have them repeat simple patterns with triplets going against eighth notes, taking away and adding layers as the piece went along. I exhausted almost every guitar I had in my soundfont collection and ended up having to use an electric guitar. Surprisingly, it worked out pretty well.

OHC 484 "Going Your Own Way" - I usually approach underwater themes in the same matter - sine waves with lots of release. This time, I wanted to do something a little different, but still chiptune. So I decided to focus more on having a direct melody and using square waves instead. I actually quite like the carefree melody I came up with here - sadly, I didn’t really know how to develop it any further so I ended up just repeating it a lot throughout the piece, haha.

OHC 485 "Rays and Rain" - This theme was difficult to work with. I wasn’t really sure what to interpret the pictures as. I ended up just thinking of “rain with some light coming through” and kind of went off with that in a more laidback fashion. It was this compo that I discovered that slowing down the tempo while using delay that is synchronized to the current tempo creates a cool kind of pulsating effect, which is heard at the end.

OHC 486 "Distant Hearts" - This piece was one of the few vocal entries that felt like it kind of fell into place as I went along. I actually am using an excerpt of the post compo version I did for Chips Compo, the full version which I’ll be posting to my channel some time later this year. 

OHC 487 "Drivin' 'Round the Galaxy" - Space in a car = chiptune blues? Sure...and don’t forget the high whistle with plenty of vibrato. :P

OHC 488 "Glass Curiosity" - I’m really not good at doing “rave” or dance pieces, so I decided to just focus on making something that would kind of try to capture the feeling of “losing yourself” via drinking. I mean, it’s a really basic interpretation, but towards the end, I play around a ton with the tempo as well as the filters. 

OHC 491 "From the Earth" - Whenever we get nature or plant themes, I feel like I’ve always tried to make them happy and joyous. This time, I wanted to go for a more tranquil, calmer approach. With acoustic guitar, flute, piano and violin, everything started to fall into place from there.

OHC 492 "Cybernetic Rush Hour" - At this point, I realized that my own sounds were severely limiting me, particularly in the electric department. Chiptune sounds weren’t quite cutting it for me, so I ended up booting up Harmless and taking a couple presets from there. I only barely know how to use it, unfortunately. Maybe someday, I’ll learn. The piece only started working for me when I hit those running notes at the end, but by then, time was already running out. 

OHC 493 "Routine" - One of the first things I think of when I see a bunch of machines is “conformity” and sticking closely to regular tasks. So I tried to keep the notes as even as possible and then put in some vocals. Ironically, the “just don’t come out of the blue” line really does sound like it came out of the blue lol

OHC 494 "Iris Chase" - I remember playing this one Ludum Dare game that had a red eye similar to these pictures. You would play as a person trying not to die while trapped in a room with several other people. I think the eye would kill people based on a vote and if not it would just kill people randomly. Anyways, I wanted to go with this sort of idea - a sinister eye constantly searching for the kill. I tried to play it really weird with slow pitch LFO, maybe some distortion, tritones, a gradually faster tempo. This was a lot of fun to make, and felt a bit different from what I normally was used to making, which in my opinion, was good. 

OHC 495 "Palace 9" - So I pretty much had my instrument set in mind once I saw the images - harps, violins, pizzicato strings, y’know, things that would be light and heavenly. Then I realized, I didn’t really have a good lead. Turns out, the oboe makes a great lead. Although now that I think of it, pitch bending it doesn’t sound that good haha.

OHC 496 "Paws on the Sidewalk" - Seeing fur made me automatically think of white fluffy dogs, so I decided I wanted to make a piece about taking a dog out for a walk on a pleasant sunny day. And yeah...started out with the first few notes you hear on the guitar, and just sort of went at it from there.

OHC 497 "But Only For a Moment" - I really wanted to do a ballroom dance piece for this one. Not only that, but the experience of sort of “having that first dance”, heart pumping in your chest, the pause of anticipation. Of course, it didn’t exactly turn out that way, but the idea was to set a “beautiful” scene cut short by time. How appropriate, given that this is OHC. Surprisingly, this did well in the compo. 

OHC 501 "IV Dream" - This was a weird OHC to come back to. I had never worked with a text theme before, so I was a bit taken aback here. There were so many interpretations I could go for. The one I felt the most comfortable with doing was an ocean/underwater track, but I wanted to go for something different but still water related. Then I remembered: just the week before, I was in the hospital (I burst my appendix, it infected my lower abdomen and I had to stay there for a week) and they put an IV in my hand for the antibiotics and hydration. As I was falling asleep there, I would recall the dripping sounds as the fluids made their way into my hand. I dunno, I guess that was kind of a weird approach to the theme: “I’m dreaming of flying through the sky but I’m actually just stuck here in the hospital”. Plus my voice got all messed up from the operation, so the vocals probably sound a lot worse than they normally do. :P

OHC 502 "Chipititis" - I missed making straight-up chiptune, so I made straight-up chiptune. That’s all, lol.

OHC 503 "Open Up" - I chose to go with the theme of “solitude” being a more positive theme, maybe focusing more on the calmness/meditative side of being alone and allowing yourself to be open and free in isolation. The pads in my soundfont set, as I discovered in this compo, actually work really nicely to set a fuller atmosphere. 

OHC 504 "Long Lost Reconnections" - In this compo, I tried to make a song based on a dream I had that felt real to me. Unfortunately, I ran out of time before I could fully develop the lyrics and the theme didn’t come across as well as I had hoped. 

OHC 505 "Confrontation" - Falling. How on earth are you supposed to portray this musically? I decided I would have to go with the basics: fast, descending chords. Then I hit a bass groove and decided it really needed a sax melody, so I put in that sax. By then, I decided that this piece would be about constantly falling with no end in sight, and having to come to those terms that eventually, you’ve got to land on something...right?

OHC 506 "Being Bold" - When I made this piece, I put in a definite end, and regretted it soon after hearing it in the listening party. Personally, it sounds so much better when the notes at the end don’t resolve, like in the “where does the hope go from here?” sort of way. 

OHC 509 "Forgetful Traveller" - Another one of those “hard to convey” themes. The chords had to be just right, conveying someone moving forward, but also kind of thinking that “maybe I should have gone back because I forgot something”. Well, I tried my best.

OHC 510 "Conflicting Voices in My Head" - imo this is easily one of the roughest of the vocal entries I’ve ever done. In the original compo version, I had a lot of trouble getting the vocals to be loud enough for people to actually hear them. Third time’s the charm, I hope. 

OHC 511 "Porcelain and Plastic" - I wanted to do a spooky, unsettling piece for this one, so I tried to make a piece about “feeling strange because you’re being watched by a bunch of old dolls in a dimly lit room and also, you might be turning into one of them”. 

OHC 512 "Rest in Victory" - Before I started the compo, I wanted to make a piece that would keep building up until it got to a sort of “grand finale”. So for this one, I tried to keep it simple, with the same set of chords repeating and just adding different layers as I went along. I had this crazy idea of putting in electric guitars and wasn’t really sure how these were going to work, but I think there’s some ideas in there that I kind of like. 

OHC 513 "Lullaby For a Needlessly Productive AllNighter" - I submitted this with a weird title because it was almost too long to be submitted properly (there’s a weird glitch on OHC where if you submit a title that is too long, it just glitches your piece out entirely). As for the piece itself, I wanted to make a lullaby that was kind of related to my own problems of wanting to stay up to constantly get stuff done. 

OHC 530 "Giants" - I missed out of OHC for several months due to one of my classes last term directly conflicting with the time that OHC ran. So I was pretty excited to return. Live entries are always more nervewracking, but they’re a little easier to set up, in a sense - plus, you get more control over the tempo and stuff. That being said, since they are done in one take, there’s a lot that can go wrong. I almost got this one down until I messed up on the last few notes, oops. 

OHC 531 "So Just (Let Me Be)" - The theme page originally showed “sjsj” as the theme, so most people started basing their pieces off this. It wasn’t until a few minutes in that the official theme was actually posted. Rather than starting a new piece entirely, I decided to just combine the two themes together. I tried to make several lines of the lyrics start with “S” and “J” then I ran out of time. 

OHC 532 "Melting Point" - When I saw the hot springs, it immediately made me think of the hot springs I went to in Japan last summer. It was one of my favourite experiences there. But yeah, I tried to grab a combination of instruments that would sort of capture the contrast between the hot and cold. Vibraphone for a bell-like sound, pizzicato strings for the forest setting, marimba for a warmer sound. Marimba worked surprisingly well for this theme, and I wasn’t the only one in the compo who thought this. 

OHC 533 "Hibernal Regret" - Didn’t really want to do a vocal entry, but I couldn’t help myself - this piece needed words, so I put them in. I tried to keep them short and simple rather than spending a huge chunk of the hour just trying to come up with meaningful lyrics. This allowed me time to process them properly and polish things up a little more. Never really thought I’d be combining winter and space, but hey, it was an interesting combination.

#ohc #compositions #music

[aleatoryalarmalligator]

Life Story Part 89

For some reason both Allison and David were gone one weekend. It was a rare turn of events in which I had the entire basement to myself. I spent that weekend feeling weird, waiting for whatever was going to happen to finally happen already. I paced about. I listened to an early album of Sandy Denny's 'All Our Own Work' by Sandy Denny & the Strawbs. To me it remains one of the best and underlooked folk rock albums of all time. And I remember falling in love with Sandy Denny's voice. There is a version of the song 'Nothing Else Will Do' where she is on lead vocals. It's probably one of my top ten favorite songs. I hesitate to go ahead and call certain songs 'my song', but Nothing Else Will Do is one of my songs. It's very simple, and seems to have an upbeat 60's folk rock guitar sound, but Sandy Denny's voice is that of some  goddess, and the lyrics describe this simplistic and yet very powerful yet depressing and aching longing for something beautiful and perfect that can never be reached. If I ever die and become a ghost that haunts homes, I will be turning people's radios on and playing that song in the house at night when my victims are alone. It means that much to me.

Allison and I would listen to quite a bit of The Magnetic Fields classic '69 Love Songs', and 'I'. Every song is a love song or sorts. It's humorous, dark, flowery, wild. Every one of those songs brought me into the world of a different version of romance. I love Stephin Merritt's low voice and singing style. David found this kind of music syrupy, and wasn't particularly enthralled by The Magnetic Fields as Allison and I were/are. But for me, Stephin Merritt is kind of a hero.  I saw that not lightly – as I can generally separate certain people from what I like about them artistically. Even someone like David Bowie, who's music uplifted me in ways no other music has that position doesn't really get the title of hero to me. Stephin Merritt is a sort of kindred spirit to me. I admire his indifference, and I can identify with it. A lot of people think he's an asshole, but somehow I really don't see it – perhaps I don't get offended by the same things as other people do. He's disinterested in a lot of what's going on around him, painfully honest, and keeps to himself whenever possible. I think he's a poet. And 69 Love songs is a staple to my existence and the person I am today. They play loudly and over top the noise and mindlessness of the world at times, declaring in 69 different ways, the insane and beautifully simple crazy state of defiance against every ugly monotonous meaningless boring wretched aspect of life; being in love – in all it's horrors and joys and nostalgic longings and humor. These songs are all living breathing friends of mine that never die out or go away.

Sarah and I went to Home Depot one late windy April 1. It always seemed important to note that this was April Fool's Day. We were there to pick up some building items for the remodeling of her living room wall. In the parking lot, we saw me father – so we went up to say hello as ignoring him at this point would have been weird of course. I hadn't been to his house in about three or four weeks. Since he had started to do a little better for himself – fixing up the house – not working at the factory anymore after having been there for forty years, I wanted to quietly demonstrate that things weren't going to go back – I would be helpful but not casually let things ever go back to him feeling comfortable entirely. He didn't just get to have me at his house anymore for any old reason. He could always stop by my place briefly if I wasn't busy, but it would generally have to be with a sort of unsaid stipulation that he couldn't entirely be himself. It was how things had to be now. I don't know if he actually understood that as much as he just had to accept whatever attention we gave him.

Standing in the Home Depot parking lot, he started to tell us what he'd been up to. He had just been working on his house when someone had come to his house. Zack. Zack...just showed up, coming down from meth. Zack was paranoid, puking. He didn't even know what he was doing at my father's house. And now... my father was letting him live there. ZACK WAS NOW LIVING IN MY OLD BEDROOM. He lived in my old bedroom. Zack, the one I wrote thousands of poems for, the one I used to think about and write love letters to that I never once sent – the one I had finally gotten over, the Zack who had drunkenly tried to kiss me outside the gym in high school. That Zack. The Zack who told me I was special and he loved me 100 times. That Zack. That Zack, now lived, in my..bedroom. The real Zack.

Sarah and I were silently in a state of shock. Particularly me. Other than the fact my eyes were probably falling out of my head, aside from the fact my head exploded like the guy from the 80's horror film, Scanners, I hid my complete and utter surprise and my father carried on talking about how Zack was now his good buddy and he was going to help my father fix up his house. Sarah and my mind connection brain magic had worked! Why else was he at my old house? What had brought him there??? My father didn't know, Zack was too high to remember why he came to my father's door – perhaps he had subconsciously caught on in some altered state of consciousness. And everything I had waited for for those seven years... was now coming to pass... Zack came back to me. It was all happening NOW. This was an assault on reality. I was beyond confused. The mirror of life had shattered before my very eyes. This was, something.. I couldn't quite place. The pieces of my life that I had learned to accept as broken no longer had to be broken. Everything had come together. The story I had held onto for so long was now in fruition.

Sarah and I quickly agreed to go to Kendrick together. Since that was where Sarah already lived, I just hopped along with her and we drove back into Kendrick. We both talked a little about it. We knew this was the perfect opportunity to rebefriend Zack. When we arrived, Zack wasn't at the house yet. But I could sense his presence in every wall in the house. The air around me anticipated his presence. I didn't even know how I should actually feel – it felt more like my blood had become electric. Something beyond feeling was happening. It was hard to describe. Perhaps it is comparable to the return of some messiah. Perhaps it is like watching a comet fly to earth that will destroy life as we know it. It was a loud and yet silent sense of deterministic certainty that my life and perceptions were not what I had thought they were. Whatever happened happened, but nothing could ever be the same after this.

My father was using the upstairs kitchen for some reason. He had remodeled the little room that hadn't been used as a kitchen for fifteen years. So we were all upstairs when we heard the door downstairs creek open. I heard the familiar sound of echoing footsteps in the old entry way. Sarah and I were sitting in the corner of the room, our eyes waiting expectantly at the entrance of the make shift kitchen room. My father was standing by the sink cutting vegetables. Allison and David were sitting in the chairs at the other corner. My father was obliviously talking away – he had perhaps the least idea that anything pivotal was happening. His voice drowned out underneath the sound of static craziness that had suddenly overpowered everything I knew to be true, just about to be undone for once and forever. My hands were shaking. I felt like running but I also felt like my entire body was made of jello. There was no escaping this.

And then Zack showed up at the steps. He looked momentarily very nervous. He was tall and thin, scrappy. He wasn't the boy I once knew. He was definitely older now. As he came to the door, he looked immediately at Sarah, and then briefly towards me. We all said hello. He said hello back, and then he went into my old bedroom and shut the door. It was subtle. But it had happened.

Later on that night, he came out of his bedroom. My father was rather excited to have Zack in his house. Perhaps my father saw him as a surrogate son, a more manly cool son than David. Zack could play the guitar. He could sheet rock. My father clearly looked up to Zack in certain ways. It was too weird. How had this even happened? I kept asking myself these impossible to answer, ill defined questions that there were no answers to. It simply was. Zack was at my house. He came downstairs where my father had set up his speakers. I think my father, in his mind was hoping that Zack would be in a band with him. Rumors in town were always that Zack was a music maverick. My father had been compulsively buying all this music equipment for years, hoping some musician would want to respectfully use my father's equipment and create some tight four piece rock band that would go professional, and my father would be in part – a founder to that. It was a dream of his. I think this meant a lot for him. He wanted to have the fun of the old days when he was in a rock band – he didn't want to feel old, or like he wasted forty years slaving for a factory that ejected him once he was used up.

Zack came down, and my father asked him to play and sing House of the Rising Son. So Zack did it. We watched him in the corner as he played and he sang. He seemed much more inspired by Alice in Chains than he had been Sonic Youth and Nirvana when he was younger. And yet it was still him. I didn't know how to feel about it really, but I thought it was cool and interesting and intense. It was hard for me to be objective. It was hard for me to be anything. I couldn't process the reality of what was even happening. After he played music for a bit, and my father talked on and on, proud to have found this musician he could now feel he semi owned, Sarah started edging towards the possibility of getting Zack separated from my father. It was clear, as the tactical socializer that she was, that we weren't going to get all that close to having a meaningful dialogue with Zack unless we got him away from the chatter of my father. It was clear that he wanted to be there to oversee whatever Zack was up to, to control every aspect of Zack's presence before us all.

And I guess in a way I couldn't really blame my father. He wanted Zack to be his friend. It seemed so strange to me to watch my father pine for Zack's approval. How did we get to this place? With Zack walking around my old house – my father following behind talking away. Hadn't my father physically assaulted me for befriending Zack in high school? It made little sense to me to see it all playing out this way. I couldn't believe my father's involvement in any of this. If it really had been Sarah and I that had dragged Zack with our thoughts to my house so we could meet him and reconnect, I felt badly that my father had been used as a stepping stone to that end. But could I really feel all that bad? After all he had put me through, for him to merely be a tool to get to Zack really didn't seem all that unfair.

In any case, we were going to honor this opportunity. The fact that Zack had arrived after our psychological incantation wasn't something that we were going to take lightly – what it all meant was completely up to interpretation, but it had happened – it was real. This was the thing I had been waiting for. Sarah and I went upstairs and formulated a plan to separate Zack from our father. We decided to make like we were going to go for a walk. As soon as we got to the door, Sarah was going to tell Zack he was coming with us. She wasn't going to ask, she was going to tell. It was so forward. I never could imagine being that forward myself. If I tried it, it would have come off differently. But when Sarah was like that, people seemed to like it. We went downstairs, where my father was still talking to Zack. As soon as my father went into the kitchen, she grabbed Zack by the shirt and told him he was coming on a walk with us.

The walk was surreal. Zack towered above Sarah and I as we walked down the sidewalks which were so familiar and yet so different from when I had been young. It was dark out, with just the faintest glimpse of what had been the edge of the day left on the horizon. Sarah did most of the talking, asking questions about Zack's life. I walked behind them, contemplating every word. Zack was religious now. He was very religious. He was hoping that we were religious as well. He was on meth, but had been clean for about two weeks. He explained to us that God had brought him to the house. He was suspicious of police officers being around. He sold drugs, and he had some on him. I had been silent the entire time, but I piped up amiably and told him he could put the drugs on me. I would get in trouble for him – if it came to that.

I didn't always understand what he meant. He talked symbolically, and sometimes like people knew what he was talking about. It had a vague dreamlike quality – like it might mean something, if you thought a little bit harder about it. But that had been the way Zack was in high school too. I guess some things had not changed. Sarah was really laying a lot of questions down. I had to admire how great she was at getting people to open up. Zack had been nervous about us being there at first – he acknowledge that if he had known we would have shown up at my fathers he would have tried to not be there, but now he was grateful that he had shown up. We asked him about why he had stood us up a year before. He told us that he was scared of us. We wielded some kind of power, or something. Another vaguery. Implications of some grand spirit realm. Support to my theories that Sarah and I had brought him there.

When we got back after talking at the park for a few hours that night, Sarah, Zack and I made a pact to not lose touch. Then Sarah had gone back home, promising to come back the next day. I went and slept in the empty room on the floor downstairs. I laid in bed that night, not tired in the least. I couldn't process this. Zack  was upstairs sleeping in his new room. I felt an energy flowing through me. Everything I touched felt charged and alive. Allison lay sleeping next to me – and she might have been a million light years away from me. I was still not tired when six am rolled around. I wasn't hungry either. I wasn't anything. I was everything and nothing all at once. I had evolved somehow. The idea of eating made me sick. Food was no longer the energy I was living on. I was living off of an abundance of something else entirely. It  had all happened so fast. I couldn't process how I was feeling.

The next few days, Sarah and I hung out with Zack – we were back and better friends then maybe we ever had been in high school. My father spent most of the day talking to Zack, and we would fill in the rest of the day. I always felt mildly left out of the conversations, and I tried to understand why that was. With my father, I felt like it was because I was a girl. But with Sarah I felt like I was overshadowed by someone with more immediate and satisfying personal qualities. It felt to me as though Zack listened to Sarah and looked at her more than he did me. Sarah assured me this was not the case, and I decided it was for the best that I believed her. But something was nagging in the back of my thoughts. Shouldn't I be happy? Zack was back in our lives! Was I jealous? Why was I jealous?

Every moment of my existence felt electrified. I had never had such frantic thoughts in my life. Two days went by, and I had not slept. I nibbled on some toast one evening that Sarah gave me. I wasn't hungry yet, or tired. I felt agonized and euphoric all at the same time. My skin felt different stretched across the meat and bones of what made me who I was. Everything felt different, in so many ways I couldn't even begin to explain. Sarah seemed to be going through  a lot as well – or so it seemed. When I talked to her, we both would go on and on about how amazing it was that Zack had come back to us. I took a walk by myself one night – to reflect on everything that seemed to be happening. I couldn't shake this desperate anxious sense that something was happening all around me. Things were even more dreamlike and surreal then they had been that winter. I sat down at the Honest bench by the store. In Kendrick, there are two benches – one being by the park – called the Honesty bench, and the other being by the store, the Liars bench. I sat down at the Honesty bench, and I decided to be perfectly honest with myself. I closed my eyes, and I did everything in my power to blank out my ranting mind. I still loved Zack. I must – it was the only explanation to any of this. It felt weird in ways, not quite the way I imagined it would. It mostly didn't feel good, if I was going to be honest. I had troubles breathing. My heart was racing like I was running for my life – and it never slowed down which was partly why I wasn't sleeping. I felt as though I had no skin – there was no escape from being inside my body. It felt like I was on drugs. But it must have been love. What else could it even be. It would explain why I was feeling jealous. It explained why everything in my life had suddenly disappeared. There was almost a higher purpose to all this too, when you considered that I had known this was going to happen!  Zack was now the one who mattered the most to me.  He had come back to me.

I realized I was going to need to tell Sarah immediately. It couldn't really wait. Telling her was important because she was more or less the person who shaped the types of conversations and communications that were had between all three of us. She might not have seen her role as a sort of leader in that regard – however she was. She could help me, or accidentally hurt me, and I needed to communicate clearly what my feelings were so she could do well to be careful with them. I was going to have to be honest to Allison and to David as well. Both of them were a little bit lost. I wasn't all there anymore – I was distant. I had checked out entirely. They were very confused by it all. And now, for the first time in my life, I needed to be honest to Zack. I had never been honest to him when it had mattered. If I had been honest to him in school he might never have started using meth, which had essentially ruined his life. I couldn't find the words to tell Allison and David, so I wrote it out on a piece of paper 'I love Zack'. There it was in words. It looked so foreign and crazy to see that written down on the scrap of paper, in my own handwriting no less. I handed it apprehensively to Allison in my bedroom that night, and she handed it to David to read. They both shook their head knowingly. They had suspected as much. And of course to my father I told nothing. He seemed more desperate to keep Zack as his musician buddy. Zack was his project, and I could tell he was beginning to see Sarah's visits as a sort of threat – but he couldn't figure out what was going on.

I went up to Sarah's house and told her that night after my walk, and after I had let Allison and David know. She seemed amused in a distant sort of way. She had nothing to say about it really – nothing to ask specifically. She was silent for the most part. What she mostly seemed concerned with was me dating Zack while he was actively addicted and using meth, and that became the focus of our conversation. He had overdosed a year back. Both of us wanted him clean. It was more important than anything else. Feelings aside, we had to agree to just be his friend. I agreed. I knew I loved Zack, and that was really enough. At this point, I couldn't really imagine being intimate with Zack. It was strange. I didn't really want to be close to him like that. I wanted his approval, his attention. I wanted something from him – something I am sure that was aligned with the universe, but wasn't ready for yet. It was why I had troubles distinguishing if it was really love or not. However, I knew myself enough to know that love always came on kind of strange with me. I had felt all sorts of romantic feelings before, without so much as the idea of kissing someone being the primary focus. Human relationships and feelings are far stranger and more varied than what is considered normal in society – in various ways both physical and none physical. I wasn't going to try to figure it all out. I just knew that it had to be love. I was in a state of sheer madness.

Another week went by. I was only managing an hour or two of sleep a night. I felt dizzy, crazed, euphoric and suddenly at times I felt like I was being dunked into some unnamed psychological torture. Sometime I felt like something very wrong was happening, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I felt myself being ripped to pieces. The world seemed to waver and grow thick and thin. Looking back, it's actually hard to entirely identify all the feelings I was feeling at the same time, all the anxiety. I felt like I didn't have a center anymore. Remembering all of this is like remembering a severe fever. The only time I felt calm was if I was around Zack and Sarah. When I was alone, my heart would begin to race, and my thoughts would follow suit and something in the back of my thoughts told me something was wrong. I knew life would never be the same again.

I was still not making the kind of connection with Zack that I wanted to make with him. I wanted to ask him about high school. Sarah and I had intended on eventually asking him in detail to go through and explain his life story after he had left school year by year. It was something he touched upon at times but didn't have a clear narrative for – mostly because it was time consuming and he had been drunk and high for most of it. But what I wanted to know the answers to questions pertaining to me. I wanted to know if he remembered the letter he tried to send to me when I was at the alternative school. I wanted to know about how much of 9th grade he remembered, how he had told me I was special. I wanted to know specific details. He never seemed to have specific details. Did he still love me, or think I was special? Sarah still did most of the talking – and naturally these things weren't for her to ask about or state as that would be very far removed. She never in her way had truly been a part of any of the stuff that had gone on between Zack and I – nor did these burning questions pique her interest like they did me. I explained this all to Sarah. I told her that I felt insecure that I didn't get to talk to Zack one on one – I felt like I was just listening without saying anything. I wasn't just going to fly in and ask him this stuff. I wanted to get there piece by piece – perhaps in a more roundabout way what it was he did and didn't remember.

So, we decided to start this off by me getting rides back into Lewiston with Zack in his beat up dirty brown car. It was staged in a way to where, I could have driven into town with Sarah just as easily on her way to work, or I could have gone with my father – but for whatever reason those options were deemed impossible by our own design. We made it work so I had to go with Zack. Sarah gave him gas money, and I remember the first drive Zack and I took. I was at my father's outside, looking at the plants, silently waiting in euphoric terror for the ride. The terror wasn't something I could run from. It was a terror that inevitably would have followed me half way across the planet – so even though I was frightened, I knew there was no use running. The fear made me bold. I remember Zack pulling into the driveway, him getting out of his car. I looked up at him cautiously. He smiled down at me, and told me we were ready to go. So I got my bag and got in the passenger's seat.

Zack was talking about how he felt on the way back. He did most of the talking when we were alone. He used words like providence, glory, destiny. He looked out at the sky, in the strangest way. He looked at the sky like it was looking back at him. He clearly was pretty obsessed with being back in our lives – and I came to understand that more as I continued to listen. It seemed so weird to me – so unbelievable that I mattered to him. And here I thought he didn't care. I was so honored to be in the car with him, and that he was opening up to me. There was an ere of severe importance in how he talked and expressed himself. I found myself unable to say much, other than ask the occasional question. At the same rate though, at times I found myself not liking what he had to say. He would say something flowery and poetic, and then there would be this vein of simplistic one dimensional selfishness.

I didn't want to admit it to myself, but there were times when he would talk about Sarah or I, and I felt, kind of.. objectified? It was hard sometimes to know what he meant to say. And I never held it against him – because if you knew Zack, you knew this is who he was. But I couldn't help, as I picked the pieces together that he believed some things I did not. For one thing, I wasn't religious. I know I have talked about feeling and sensing and knowing things. But even when I claim these feelings, I know them to be only my truth. I don't dismiss them, but I don't think it's up to me to be settling on a world view based on it all. And even if feeling and knowing things meant something, then perhaps I was misreading it all. It seemed possible to me that if you did randomly pick up information from the world around you, be it something psychic, be it having a fabulous subconscious, be it some kind of mysterious fate, you only were grasping on tiny brick in the grand structure of a grand structure you could never comprehend the entire truth of. I knew that we as human beings have an extraordinarily limited ability to comprehend anything around us. We live in a state of perceiving and hallucinating a version of whatever is in front of us, and our brains are forgetting and restructuring that information constantly. We interpret what we see into whatever the framework allows. And I am no different. Even with the knowing of Zack returning to me, even with all of those feelings that came over me, how could I truly interpret it in a way that wouldn't be based on my own ego? What little insight is had has a predisposed element of being something we pieced together based on our limited understanding of said thing. So religion was essentially taking that little flicker of wisdom, that flicker or wave of intuition that I sometimes felt, and turning it into an egotistical power structure.

Zack's philosophy tended to rely heavily and almost entirely on the notion that God was giving him stuff. The more I talked to him, what little I did question him on, I found myself wondering if he understood anything else. I couldn't really accept this was as far as his thoughts traveled, but at the same rate, it seemed like the notion that God gave him what he wanted was all that really struck him as meaningful. He let me know in his way that he saw Sarah and me as commodities that God had given him for being a good Christian. I didn't want to hear that. It immediately hit me the wrong way, and though I distanced myself from my emotions, having to hear something so base really disappointed me. I didn't let myself name what I was feeling – as I didn't want Zack to dislike me. But, good sleep or no, I wasn't ready to accept that answer. I entertained it momentarily as a possibility, but quickly concluded that even if it were the case, even if I was true, if I was some biblical blessing to Zack, then I would definitely have to align myself with Lilith and dismiss his ideas entirely. I tried to tell myself that what he said didn't really matter.

In the moment, I was often suspended in a place where I didn't know the truth. I had nobody to talk to about any of this – be it the craziness that was Zack back in my life happening all so fast, the fact that I was going three days in a row with no sleep and little food, the feelings from that winter that had all seemed so much like a premonition to what was now taking place, how everything around me looked different – and how I felt like a part of me had died, trying to assess and understand my feelings about Zack, trying to comprehend what Sarah and I were doing, trying to communicate with Sarah, trying to understand Zack's point of views and align them with my own. I thought I might  have been going crazy – I was in fact going crazy at this point. I should feel happy, I reasoned with myself. I was in love, I had struggled and I had persevere, and yet in the corners of my thoughts came this raging and insane feeling of total and complete collapse. It felt like the end of the world. I wanted there to be someone I could talk to about it – I wanted to be able to ask someone, anyone what I should do. But my father was deluded and crazy. My mother was deluded and crazy. Allison and David didn't know what was happening, and when I talked to Sarah, she just nodded and was very aloof.

And it made me feel like something was very wrong – perhaps the wrongest thing I had ever felt, and it was growing within me and nobody could understand or see it. I felt like my ability to communicate was disappearing – an invisible wall was growing between me and everything else, and the only shared company I had was this insane sense that I had no self, and perhaps I never had. What I found felt like a black hole that I both embodied and paradoxically was falling into. I had meddled with something I had no business meddling with – I had challenged reality, and now it was challenging back. And now I saw a truth that lay underneath everything. It was some Chaos that had it's roots in everything. The structure of the world was falling away. And yet, even as I felt this was true, the sun seemed to still come up in the morning and go down at night. Everyone I knew seemed more confused by me. And so there was nobody I could sort this with. My best hope was Sarah understanding. But she seemed silent on the matter.

On that first drive into Lewiston, Zack's car broke down a few miles out of town. He had ran out of gasoline. He casually got out of the car and started to walk. I followed behind him. It amazed me, and sort of impressed me to be honest, that he lived this way. This had been his life. He lived for the moment. One thing broke and he went to the next thing. He owned next to nothing. His life was at the mercy of whatever drug he was on, and whatever nature decided to do with him. He spent most of his life behind the wheel of a car, until that car would break down and he would move on to something else, sure that powers above would cradle and he would find liberation in something new. His only home was alcohol and methamphetamines. Occasionally he would take up a job fixing something, until he had a few paychecks and he would be off again. He relied heavily on other users and his family members – primarily his mother for anything stable. And it all seemed so strange to me. At an early age, I had seen Zack as this glowing beautiful up and coming poetic boy rising to the inevitable status as a famous musician and unstoppable and beautiful spirit of which I felt so connected to. I had believed that and it had not happened. My early life when I had known Zack when we were both young had been enough to give me the incentive to rise up against my own life and to separate myself from my family. It had inspired me to read, to make art, to work hard on myself and articulate my ideas – and to pay attention to my inner world, to create. Because Zack had seen in me things nobody else had ever seen in me – and I had run on that. And that meant a lot. For years it might have been the only thing I had.

So now here I was, walking behind Zack on the side of the highway as the sun went down before us. He walked calmly like he had some kind of ancient wisdom and without a care in the world. After a mile or so, Zack saw a house that he knew the old man who lived there. He went into the place as I stood outside an he came out with some gasoline. And then we walked back, and his car started. We broke down again outside of Lewiston. The air was cool. In the distance the paper factory puffed away. We were quiet but the silence wasn't all that uncomfortable. He asked me with his deep voice if I ever felt like something was hollowed out of me, an then filled with light. It almost made sense with how I felt then – another one of his vague profound questions and statements. I told him I had. It didn't feel like he understood me when I talked about myself at all, so I did most of my talking in the form of asking questions, which he seemed to enjoy answering. And I found that I rather preferred to ask questions.

We met Sarah at Zany's, and she bought us milkshakes at a small table. We  happily ate the ice cream, and then Sarah got off work, finished calculating her tips and sorting her money. Zack and Sarah went back to Kendrick. I stayed in Lewiston for a few days. I thought maybe if I tried to give this Zack business a rest then perhaps I could make heads or tails of it all. I managed to get some sleep that night, and I woke up blazing with energy. I had about thirty dollars to my name, and I had decided that I was going to spend that all on something small and fun. So I walked all the way up 21st street to the Dollar Store and bought a bunch of Easter candy and Bunny ears, and random fun things. I planned on having a miniature party with them. It was something I would have done a lot more of had I had the money. I have always loved miniature parties – buying a movie, pizza, candy or going out to take pictures with a small group of people. Sometimes dressing up, or buying tacky items can make the mundane act of living just a little bit more bearable. It staves away adulthood and monotonous boredom. I once bought two bottles of sparkling apple cider and two small plastic chairs for me and Allison to sit in while drinking the bottles so we could pretend we were getting wasted together.

That night Sarah picked me up from my mother's and I went out to Kendrick with her. The intention was to go to my house and bring the candy and rabbit ears. I figured the act of bearing gifts to the occasion would make him smile at the very least. But when I got to Sarah's house, Alex was there. It was strange, but for some reason I felt a bit sorry for Alex. I didn't know why I should. He never wanted to hang out too much. But it felt weird in that Sarah was spending and focusing quite a bit more energy on her friendship with Zack than she was her relationship with Alex. And honestly, after so long of being in a relationship with him where neither one of them did much or communicated, I didn't know if it was even weird or not. Alex had more recently taken some steps to be out in the living room. He and I were on good enough terms, and he always seemed as though he thought I was rather hilarious. He seemed like a fine friend – even while I thought he was a shit boyfriend. Sarah and I decided to do the party with Alex instead. It was more something he would be into, we reasoned.

Alex noticed how much weight I had lost – my eyes were a lighter shade of hazel, my face was thinner. I was starting to look different in a lot of ways – not just my weight, but that was a good portion of it was due to a sudden and almost inexplicable drop in my weight. In the two and a half weeks that Zack had been living in my father's home, I had dropped seventeen pounds. Never before and never again have I managed that kind of weight loss and I am not sure that I would ever want to. It was the result of the spell of madness I was under – and the first week had been the most painful in ways that are hard to explain. Think of the exercise it took to lose that kind of weight, and then contain that in the course of a few days. The first ten pounds had come off from that first week, and I had felt every bit of it. It came from a racing heart and racing mind and not eating at all. I had felt every angle of that pain. Even though it had hurt, I guess there was a part of me that felt like this madness had made me lovelier and I took a great amount of satisfaction from that. Like maybe I had sold my soul to look more beautiful – and if I had somehow sold my soul for all this, then the least I could do was reap the benefits from that exchange.

Later that night we went down to my house. My father was acting very strange. He didn't like the fact that Zack was hanging out with primarily Sarah and I but seemed completely tongue tied on how to address it. We went into my old rose themed bedroom and sat on the floor around Zack. Sarah and I had brought some candy from the Easter thing we had had with Alex, but Zack didn't seem to know how to address or take the candy. Zack was an extreme minimalist. I swear he would pick a boring piece of basalt gravel over a rare glowing purple gem, and it always puzzled me. In any case, we sat around and asked Zack to tell us his life story. At least what had happened post him leaving high school. He didn't seem to remember much, but he told us what he did remember.

He had been dating Melissa. He and Melissa had made a pact to run away to Minnesota together, and when he had wanted to do that, she had told him no. She had a job here, and money. Her friends and family were here, and what was there for her in Minnesota? Zack had by this time shown no interest in finding a job. What Zack had wanted I think, in traveling back to Minnesota was I think in some naive confused way he wanted to travel back in time. He saw Minnesota as a time capsule where he could escape to his childhood. But of course Minnesota had changed, and he had changed. Melissa had been right in not wanting to go to Minnesota. When I had been young I would have had jealousy based foolish ideas that this was some kind of sign that she didn't love Zack enough. And mind you, Zack as he told us this story didn't have any perspective on it. As he told us this story, I think he still felt like Melissa had abandoned him when she told him no. I would not have been as smart had I been in her shoes. I would have walked off a cliff if Zack had asked me to.

Quietly, I remembered that he had told me he would take me with him to Minnesota someday when he ran away around that same time. It had all been a plan he had had in his young mind, we would leave our families behind early in the morning and we would never return. It also occurred to me in listening to his recollections that he didn't remember me. He hadn't remembered that he was supposed to take me. Quietly it stung but I carried on listening.

So he just basically went to Minnesota by himself. And then he had come back a few months later. Melissa was with someone else, and he got mad and they broke up. Around this time I pieced together was around the same time that he had sent that letter to me that I never got, telling me he still loved me. It had always meant so much to me that that letter had existed, even when I had never been so privileged as to hold it and read it myself. To a degree, this knowledge cheapened things a bit. I had always been number two and there could be no mistake about that. If Melissa failed, he would go to me – or at least extend the offer. I didn't per say see it that way completely, but it would have been totally blind of me not to see it that way to some degree. He never would have written that letter to me had him and Melissa stayed together.

After that, he had started to date Valerie, Melissa and his long time friend. She had been in the class below me, and she had always looked at me quizzically when Zack and I hung out. I realize now that she had likely been harboring feelings for him for years. Val and Zack were seen as a much more fitting couple by everyone who knew them. Even so, they managed to stay together for about year. But by then Zack had started to do hard drugs – meth mostly, and this had upset Val. In order to get back at Zack for choosing drugs over her, she cheated on him with some local redneck friend of Zack's intentionally so he would know about it. I guess it must have all come to light on some camping trip because there was a famous incident where Zack shoved Valerie into a smoldering fireplace – or something like that. He didn't tell us about that part when he told his life story – I later found this out from other people who had been there.

Valerie was fine. And then for a brief time Zack had gone back to Melissa, who I think was willing to give him a second chance. It had lasted three or four months. Zack wasn't clear about what had ended it finally between he and Melissa. I found that out much later. Basically, without getting into too much details, when Melissa discovered Zack using, she had driven to wherever it was that he was at, and she would drag and fight him. Melissa was very small, but somehow extremely feisty. She would walk right into the house he was staying at, and drag him out by being force, relentlessly. She was hoping to wear him down, to force him to stay clean. And eventually she lost that game. She couldn't stop Zack from using drugs. It really was his one and only passion. He didn't even want to play music anymore.

From there Zack said he didn't remember much. Mostly his memories were about driving around all night and all day. He would live somewhere for a month or two and then go somewhere else. He hung out with Billy a lot, and a guy we went to school with named Pete. His taste in music shifted from the alternative 90's stuff of his youth, to Metallica, nu metal and ICP. I couldn't hide the solid look of judgment on that last bit. I'm not a fan of ICP, as it is something my sister listened to quite a bit. It's something that meth users in my area of the world were crazy for. For that matter, I am not a fan of nu metal. I have some obscure respect for Mike Patton from Faith No More, but Limp Bizkit and Kid Rock are terrible. Metallica I could live with in that I could recognize the legitimacy of their impact and their talent. I saw them live when I was fourteen and liked them once a few lifetimes back. I don't judge anyone for liking Metallica even if I don't care for them myself.

But it was moments like this where Zack liked some really terrible stuff. He seemed, much like Roxanne's ex Jeremy – to have some meth inspired Christianity ideas. I've met a few people who have the same notions – mixing their meth highs with religion. I call it Methianity. It generally takes the worst of both worlds and mixes the two. Zack also didn't read and never wanted to read. I couldn't judge him for this exactly. It hadn't exactly valued reading when I had first met him. We had both been considered stupid outcasts in the school. So I had to refrain from feeling judgmental. Plus, he had been wrecked on drugs for years and that had to have brought him back in time. How could I blame him for something so trivial as not reading? It took years for him to get this messed up. It was clear he had problems. As soon as he was off drugs, maybe then he would start to evolve. In order to bring the best out of Zack, I had to see the best in him, and ignore the worst.

This cemented something for me. I loved Zack, and I was going to stick by him as a friend – nothing more. I wanted to see him through this dark miserable drug addiction of his. I had to show a radical selfless kind of love I had never fully expressed before. It wasn't always going to be fun, or romantic. I wasn't ready to even deal with anything like a relationship anyway. There were things about him that I thought were kind of gross. I didn't want to admit that to myself. It wasn't the fact that he was dirty, or unkept exactly. It stemmed to how he thought at times, and how incurious he was. To a degree I felt like it was part of the reason he didn't seem interested in what I had to say ever. I used to think him and I were very similar, but now looking at it more closely, I guess we weren't. Or maybe we had met at a junction early on in life before flying in opposite directions – me towards books and philosophy, Zack towards drugs. And yet, I had to believe that we still could be close - surely there was some silverlining to all of this. I just had to give it time. I had to be diligent. Nothing good would ever come easy.

PART 88 - https://tinyurl.com/ychmzqbd

PART 87 - https://tinyurl.com/ycvfrwp9

PART 86 - https://tinyurl.com/y8fcu787

PART 85 - https://tinyurl.com/y73j3s9z

PART 84 - https://tinyurl.com/y8chr6hw

PART 83 - https://tinyurl.com/yasrxfkj

PART 82 - https://tinyurl.com/y9wvecz3

PART 81 - https://tinyurl.com/yc7bm62r

My Life Story in Chapters, PARTS 1-80 (this link below will lead you to a list of all the chapters i have written thus far).

http://aleatoryalarmalligator.tumblr.com/post/168782771574/life-story-sections-1-8

#text #writing #life story

[oishioshis]

Favourite Songs 2016 ~A Mixed Bag~

This is probably the longest I’ve put something off in my life, for one reason or another whenever I started writing this list I became overwhelmed or really down on myself. What do I know? Who am I? What value is this at all? Well, none of those questions really matter. I’m doing this for myself and hopefully there’s the added benefit of friends looking at this and maybe getting an idea for what I’m into.

It’s no secret my interests have vastly changed between 2015 and 2016 making this an incredibly hard list to curate, but that process made me realise that this whole thing is kinda nonsense. It’s a fun thing I’m throwing together based on what I enjoyed, it’s not me scouring every release throughout a year and giving you my take on it. I’m going to miss things and skip songs and entire albums, this is an unranked list except for my absolute favourite of the year.

However, before I get into my favourite releases I want to give my take on a hobby I had a couple years back. While I think their releases are often really poor and lacking in mostly every regard, it’s worth highlighting the very rare gem they manage to spit out.

AKB48 - Love Trip

This song is kinda fantastic in that it’s everything I personally feel AKB48 should be. It’s energetic, youthful and intense. AKB48 is often bogged down with releases that are mellow and way too easy going for the sheer amount of personality they have. They should be fun, and Love Trip is exactly that, and well executed, too. The mix of acoustic guitars and wailing electric guitars throughout give the song an energy more reminiscent of their older output, the accompanying layered gang vocals, while they leave something to be desired on a technical level, do add to the intensity of the song itself. It’s not abrasive, it feels just right. Love Trip could be described as a beautiful chaos, as it is a mess, but a mess that works to the benefit of the listener, it’s a song about young love, and the song sounds as chaotic as that moment in your life feels. Overall, I’d say this is the best AKB48 song in years, and continues to be.

Nogizaka46 - Harujion ga Sakukoro

I was once writing what was basically a love letter to this song that I never got around to posting. When this song first came out I adored it, the composition and arrangement is so uplifting and beautiful that it’s hard to put into words how exactly you feel about it. The song is a mix of a thumping house beat and string sections with what sounds like a synthesized chorus vocal line, and it works perfectly. The music itself never really resolves itself in its transitions from chorus to verse until the end where the story of the song is resolved, and I thought that was a very smart, well crafted touch.

I don’t hold Nogizaka46 to the same standard as AKB48. I personally feel that Nogizaka46’s output is very solid for most releases even if they falter in some coupling track decisions here and there, but Harujion ga Sakukoro is a very, very special song and I feel it is a highlight when it comes to idol songs.

Now with that out of the way I get to my favourite songs of the year. These songs are in no real order but at the very end I’ll give my absolute favourite song of the year, so if you only came for that then just skip to the end because this’ll be real boring otherwise.

Favourite Songs

Perfume - Flash

People like to rag on Perfume these days for whatever reason, can’t say I really get it. I understand the music has changed but that doesn’t mean it’s objectively better or worse. I find Flash to be a highlight in Perfume’s discography, and the Cosmic Explorer album, while I understand it’s a bit more western influenced and trendy, it’s a lot of fun. Flash kinda just goes in, heavy on the synth leads, snares for days, it’s dumb fun. It knows it’s dumb. I’d also like to give a shout out to the album mix of Flash, it’s rearranged and the dynamic and structure of the song sounds completely different but it’s also really good, just in a different way.

Kariya Seira - Colorful World

A very fun, electro-funk song. I love the electric piano throughout, the bendy bassline, swimmy, sparkly and stabby synths. I also love Seira’s singing, she’s become a really beautiful singer over the years and this song highlights it unlike no other. If you’re ever feeling down I’d really recommend this song among Seira’s other songs.

BiSH - Orchestra

Probably BiSH’s most ambitious song to date. It gives off the melancholic yet optimistic vibes of a smoother Nogizaka46 song, but with a really intense double-kick build into a flurry of orchestral strings. It’s not really a mix you think of to often, but the mix of metal and a string section with this really off-kilter idol punk singing works beautifully. Idol music can sometimes feel a bit fake, but BiSH always manages to feel authentic and I feel Orchestra is a good example of that.

Fujiwara Sakura - “Kawaii”

My favourite side of Fujiwara Sakura is her really emotive singing, and that especially shows in the chorus of “Kawaii”, it’s a very pretty, sentimental jazz song. It’s very jazz, so if you don’t like jazz maybe this won’t be your thing, but it’s jaunty, it’s a lot of fun. Please try it, she’s really good. I’m on my knees begging. I love her so much.

Maison Book Girl - lost AGE

I’ve never been able to describe Maison Book Girl, they’re a unique genre unto themselves, very heavy on strings and acoustic guitars but chopped and mixed incredibly weirdly. I honestly wouldn’t recommend a single song by them, but their entire discography. It’s so unique, it’s indescribable. It’s all one cohesive style so if you don’t like one song you won’t like any of their songs, really, but you need to check them out.

Ladies’ Code - Galaxy

More jazz! But now lower key and subdued. Galaxy is very pretty musically and visually, so definitely check out the music video. I really like the places the song goes, in the bridge it kinda builds this jazzy momentum in contrast to the very mellow beginning and they carry it towards the end. It’s a very neat, chill song, I thoroughly recommend it. Also I adore the bassline.

Ladies’ Code - The Rain

More upbeat and less subtle than Galaxy, but the bouncy synth on top of the continued jazzy feel from Galaxy makes The Rain my favourite of Ladies’ Code releases from 2016. There’s also something about the lead in with the heavy violin into the hard hitting chorus that makes The Rain feel a bit more intensely emotional than Galaxy. Can’t quite put my finger on it, but I like it a lot.

Lee Hi - My Star

Lee Hi continues her motown streak with My Star, and it’s kinda motown-lite but there’s something about it that I really like. The hook is really catchy to me, it’s reminiscent of contemporary motown where it sounds a bit more pop than full motown and that’s alright for me. I also reward any song for expensing actual session played instrumental work, like this song has actual brass sections. However the main snare they’re using sounds EDM as heck. Song’s produced by Teddy so it’s to be expected to some degree isn’t it.

TWICE - TT

What hasn’t been said about TT at this point? It kinda became a cultural phenomenon in East Asia. It’s a really great song. Excellent use of space in the mix, makes the song sound huge and ethereal, the deep house-esque bass synths are wonderful and the hook is super catchy. It’s a perfect pop song if you ask me.

WJSN - Secret

I adore secret, some would call this maybe the biggest surprise of 2016, but it’s an e.one track, of course it’s fantastic. e.one can do no wrong. The music box lead into the melodic synth with an accompanying string section is probably the thing that immediately hooked everybody into this song. It’s a great, fun way to start off your song. That and, of course, the bimiliya aaaaaAa, it’s incredibly catchy. It never gets boring for me.

REOL - Give me a break stop now

REOL’s vocal inflections and general vocal direction is the hook for me, I love her style, but the song is also the type of EDM trap I’m way into. Abrasive trap horns, heavy ass synth, weird ass BONK replacing the snare, the entire thing just kicks you in the teeth and it’s great. REOL and GigaP did a fantastic job at producing this.

BLACKPINK - Whistle / Boombahyah / Playing With Fire

I’m putting most of BLACKPINK’s discography into one because I thoroughly, thoroughly enjoyed every release they put out in 2016. Whistle’s low-key, simple melodies are something I’m not typically into, but I was immediately hooked by the song, it’s so catchy.  The heavy sub-bass, cowbell rhythm, snare rolling into the bouncy, acoustic build unusually works very, very well and the hook itself is simple and fun, I recommend it.

Boombahyah is basically a pop-ified, big room house banger with all the arabic scale and reverb heavy snares you can handle. It’s almost comical how ridiculous the song is, but it’s a lot of fun, and that’s all I really want.

Playing With Fire is probably my favourite BLACKPINK song of 2016, the electro swing feel throughout, especially in the synth hook is really enjoyable. It’s a very charismatic song, Lisa especially hooks me as I love how she delivers her lines, she’s such a goof but in this song has a lot of attitude.

Red Velvet - Russian Roulette

Russian Roulette is, despite the name, a fun synthpop song with a disco influence. The song is presented in a very monotonous fashion, it leads in with a flat, stuttering “la, la-la, la” and throughout the song the vocals are delivered in a similarly robotic way, very atypical for the blues-y, soulful vocals you’re used to from Red Velvet. I think that’s what makes this song really interesting. It’s a 180 from the absolute belter that was Dumb Dumb, but they still make it work, they, and pop music in general, do not need to be hinged on technical ability to be a fun, entertaining song. While not everybody can make it work, Red Velvet impressed me with their versatility. The music itself is very nice and simple, lots of synth drags, stuttery vocal leads and it even has the rare musical interlude which Korean pop tends not to do too often. Definitely one of my favourite songs of the year.

Oh My Girl - Windy Day

Probably one of the weirder Korean idol releases in recent years. Windy Day is an acoustic heavy, ethereal, bubblegummy type song with very beautifully arranged vocals and an arabic scale (at least I think it’s the arabic scale) influenced musical interlude that completely contrasts the feel of the previous verses. The song is fucking nuts, and it’s great. It’s hard to describe. I really recommend you check it out regardless of the type of music you’re into because it’s a weird one.

Lovelyz - Destiny

Synth, string heavy and intense. It’s not a mellow track by any means, but there’s something about Destiny that is eerie and even haunting. I’d go into Destiny further but I want to write a post in itself about Lovelyz discography at one point where I delve deeper into the sounds and style, but I need to include this because the song is fantastic and you should listen to it.

Absolute Favourite Song of the Year

Gfriend - Rough / Navillera

Both of these songs, to me, are perfect. I find no faults in either of them. They both easily go onto my favourite songs of all time. From the string, guitar heavy Rough to the synthy, discopop Navillera, it’s hard to find a fault, they’re both essentially perfect songs for me. The vocal delivery is beautiful, the way the strings and synths are arranged are both beautiful and powerful, the cute guitar solos feel nostalgic yet unique for the current pop landscape. It all just works perfectly for me. They’re both perfect songs.

And that’s about it. You probably noticed “hey these are all title tracks” well, yes, they are. I wanted to make it easier for myself but I do recommend if you enjoy any of these songs that you check out the respective single, mini-album or album they come from. Also, respect to everybody who produced and was involved with the production of these songs and music videos.

Iggy Youngbae are my dads

[quickbrownfoxjumpsoverthelazydog]

ROY ORBISON'S HOLOGRAM SINGING FOR THE LONELY..

(Let it be known, I am no Music Critic. I’m just a fan.) On a cold wet evening in mid-November, I embarked on an hour’s drive south to see the hologram of Roy Orbison perform in Greenville, SC. Yes, that is correct. Along for the ride was my Ma, and her boyfriend of some years.  It was a special occasion to get to see Roy’s hologram perform, and especially to share it with my Ma. I remember being a kid and one of the only albums I can picture in her possession was that of Roy Orbison’s Hits. She always used to say: “He wasn’t much to look at, but boy could he sing.." (including at least once in the Prius on the drive down, and once post-show): The Peace Center in Greenville is a large auditorium, seats I would say 2,000 butts. (I just search engined it and it appears I was only 112 butts off. As a musician, who plays in rooms, way smaller than this, I just pat myself on the back for being able to gauge that). I crack to my Ma that I must be the youngest person here (I was born in ’83) and I’m not too far off. We bring up the tickets on our smartphone, get scanned in, empty our bladders, walk up the stairs 2 flights to the balcony, get told where our seats are, scoot down the narrow aisle, take off our coats, and pop a squat. It’s about 10 minutes til showtime so we dilly dally for a bit on our smartphones, look around, comment how it’s maybe a little more than half full, talk about how weird this is going to be, until.. the lights go down. Much hushed murmuring, as that cue always cues, and a flesh colored fella comes out, makes some announcements, says there will be 25 minutes of music, followed by a 20 minute intermission, followed by 90 minutes of music, and then he introduces…. !!! … Peter Frampton’s son, Julian. Oh, okay. Frampton Junior walks out and begins to strum his acoustic-electric and launches into a song that he wrote, of which approximately 15 seconds into I can feel hard struck panic begin to swell into every inch of my being as I realize I am stuck there for the next 25 minutes, because I am literally smack dab center of a row that has approximately 18 people to my left, and 23 or so to my right. Any attempt at escape is out of the question.  25 minutes to go.  I decide to try and give it a chance, but alas, I cannot. It is the exact opposite of everything about music that I stand for. I feel like Ethan Hawke sitting on the couch in Reality Bites, after Winona Ryder comes in from making out with that yuppie, and Hawke patronizingly croons: “Ooo baby I love your way.. Everyday..”. (Julian’s pops, nonetheless, in case you didn’t know). Perhaps I am as cynical as Hawke, maybe because the music deserves it, or maybe because I’m an asshole, or maybe just because, like Hawke, I was jealous of something. When 25 minutes is up, I clap for the first time, as it’s Frampton’s last song and I am more than ecstatic. Next up: THE BIG O! After a 20 minute break that is. I begin texting one of my friends. Not because I have nothing better to do, but just because I have to complain to someone about Frampton’s set. Okay okay, I’ll stop the Frampton bashing. I honestly don’t care and that’s not what this essay is about, it’s about Orby! Good ole digitally back from the grave Orby! 20 minutes finally come to pass, and the lights go low again. Much excitement and applause and Woo Hoo's..  And then.. The curtain raises quick as a wink and there’s a huge orchestra must be 25 or 30 pieces and they’re churning out “Pretty Woman” and there’s a screen on the back of the wall and it’s a montage of Roy and “Pretty Woman” actually turns into a sick medley of this and that and the other but keeps coming back to the “Pretty Woman” riff until finally a strong male voice comes on the PA and announces “Ladies and Gentleman! ROY ORBISON!”. And I'll be damned if I didn’t look to the back of the stage thinking he was just going to stroll out from behind the curtain and right down the middle of that orchestra in the flesh.. But that didn’t happen. INSTEAD, ROY comes UP through the GROUND as though on an ELEVATOR straight outta his CASKET, Center Stage, Microphone, Mic Stand, Guitar, Guitar Cable, Grey Suit, Sunglasses, Pompadour, and all! The band has already been “Dum dum dum dumdee doo wah”-ing away, and the moment Roy is fully there, he let’s it come right out: "..Only the lonely.." The crowd is wide-eyed, they’re smiling, they’re laughing, they’re a bit confused, they’re clapping, and so on.  Now, this is probably one of my favorite songs of Orby’s, and I’m into it, but immediately, I can’t help but feel as though.. well feel as though I KNOW.. this just ain’t real. Don’t get me wrong. The orchestra is all outta bubble gum, (i.e. they’re just kicking ass) and Roy’s voice in on point. It’s just that.. it’s just not real.  At least Frampton Jr., bless his heart, was real and in the flesh. He could crack a dumb off the cuff joke or forget to un-mute his tuner pedal. All Roy says is the occasional “Thank you” in between songs. This brings me to what I guess is the posed point of this writing: Shouldn’t live music be: Live? Isn’t that the purpose? I can listen to a Roy record at home or watch a video if I want and have this same visceral experience. In the words of Eddie Vedder, when I see a live show, I wanna see the “distress on a guy’s face as he’s trying to sing and play guitar at the same time.” Ma brought some binoculars, so throughout the show we pass them between us and, looking through, we come to find and agree upon: Roy’s face doesn’t look quite like him. It’s slightly.. off. At least, it’s off from the pictures that have been telling us what he looks like our whole lives (“He wasn’t much to look at…”). Ma also comments “He don’t look like he’s even playing his guitar!” (I assure her, he's actually making chords). I wanna see the distress of a guy’s not-entirely-how-I-remember-hologramed face as he’s singing and (appearing) to play the guitar at the same time.  As the show goes on, I’m able to give into it here and there, and there are some moments of pure magic. Perhaps not a testament to this production, but in the least to Roy as a performer, and the strength of the songs he performed. “A Love So Beautiful” was just downright heavenly with that string section swelling. “I Drove All Night” just about brought me to tears, though perhaps more for the fact it was the song a friend (who recently killed himself) and I learned in order to play at some of our best friends’ wedding a year ago. I overhear the elderly ladies to my right comment a few things every now and then. Sometimes I sneak a look over and they just seem delighted at all of this. I think: what do they think of this show? Is it just a pure magical treat to them? Is their disbelief completely suspended? To see someone who maybe they actually saw live in their time, come back to life while they are here, late in their life, to give them the time of their life, again? I don’t know, I didn’t ask them. Every once in a while, there is a short Photo or Video Montage on that back screen and the Orchestra will accompany it, so, whenever that happens, Roy will literally POOF into thin air, leaving a trail of ghost-like smokiness. Then when he comes back for another song, he will elevator ride up again from the ground/great beyond. When the riff finally comes in again for his biggest hit “Pretty Woman” to close out the show, the crowd is hooting and hollering. And to be honest, I can’t help but tap my foot and bop along, as my Ma does the same, a big smile on her face and a glow in her eyes. And I’m transported back to being a kid, and she’s got this song on, and she’s dancing around to it, and singing along, and I’m watching her, with a glow in my eyes.  I guess that’s just the power a song can behold, everything else be damned.  Maybe this is the future of music, to bring the past back. Or maybe it’s just the future.  But really, it’s here now. It’s present.

[iamnotthedog]

ST. LOUIS: FALL 1999

Once I graduated from high school, I had been reading road books and travelogues pretty much exclusively for quite a while. After I read On the Road at Jim’s place, I caught the travel bug, and read Celine’s Journey to the End of the Night, Hunter S. Thompson’s Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, Tom Wolfe’s The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test, Bashō’s Narrow Road to the Deep North and Other Travel Sketches, and Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, which came at the suggestion of Mrs. Frame, who really knew me better than just about anyone at the time. Those books all lit a fire under me, and I couldn’t wait to get out of Morrison and experience more of the world, as well as a whole new life out from under my parents’ roof.

I wanted to travel more than anything, but I was determined to go to college first, and I sort of ended up fucking that whole thing up, to be completely honest. I mean, it wasn’t bad or anything, it just isn’t what I should have been doing. I got accepted to a writing program at a private school called Webster University.1 Webster’s a nice school and all, I just say that I fucked up because of all the places in the world that I could have gone after finally getting out of Morrison, I ended up in a suburb of St. Louis, which isn’t exactly the most exciting place in the world. I mainly ended up there because I was lazy with the whole “preparing for college” thing, and I hadn’t even applied anywhere else.

All that aside, I was excited to meet some new people when I arrived at Webster for the first time—as most college freshmen are. But then my first roommate in the dorms at Webster was a total dick. His name was Brett or Brent, and he was one of the several people on my floor who had barely even put their suitcases down before they started complaining that Webster University was too small, and threatening to transfer to UMSL (“threatening,” as though any of us would actually care if they left), where they could live downtown and go to football games and frat parties and chug beer out of holes punched into the sides of cans and maybe even videotape themselves fucking somebody.

That wasn’t my scene. Sleepy Webster Groves with its narrow tree-lined streets and long-haired, grey-bearded writing professors was more up my alley. And after about a week in the dorms, I managed to find a few like-minded people to spend some time with. I met the friend I would eventually end up taking to California with me—John—and John’s roommate and lifelong companion (at least up to that point), Marc.

I was walking down the hall completely aimlessly one afternoon when I heard Bob Dylan crooning through a door that was open a crack, and I smelled incense, so I gave a little knock. John came to the door and peeped out at me with his red eyes, his long brown caveman hair and unshaven chin. He was wearing a tie-dyed t-shirt with a stretched out collar, and baggy sweatpants with a bunch of pockets on the legs. And he was barefoot. He looked at me skeptically, furrowing his brow. “Yes?” he said.

“Hey,” I said, awkwardly. “Uh...what’s going on?”

He opened the door a little wider. Marc was behind him, sitting on a futon with long red hair flowing down over his pale, shirtless torso and a fuckin’ three-foot tall glass bong in his lap. He lifted a lighter in a sort of wave.

“Nothing much,” John said. He kind of tilted his head to the side a little and looked into my eyes. He still looked skeptical.

I stuck a finger in the air in an attempt at pointing at the music playing, as people do. “Blonde on Blonde,” I said. I wasn’t exactly sure how to accomplish what I wanted to accomplish. Then I saw a couple guitars in the corner of the room, back behind Marc. “You guys play? I can play pretty much this whole album.”

That seemed to work, for whatever reason.

“C’mon in,” John said.

John and Marc lived in their own little hippie heaven there in the dorms. Their walls were plastered with tapestries and black light posters and pictures of Led Zeppelin and the Doors and Jimi Hendrix and the Grateful Dead. They always had incense burning and music on the stereo. They would sleep to some of the weirdest shit, too. If you walked by their room late any night—say you were stoned and wandering down the hallway to hit up the vending machines for a Snickers or whatever—you could often hear some Miles Davis piping out through their door. It was the weird Miles, too. Not Kind of Blue Miles, but Bitches Brew or sometimes even On the Corner Miles. Even being a huge Miles Davis fan, as I was at the time (and still am), I couldn’t understand how anyone could actually fall asleep to On the Corner.

After I started hanging out with John and Marc, I ended up spending a hell of a lot more time in their room then my own. The amount of drugs those two smoked was comical. They would literally wake up in the morning and smoke opium. Opium! At, like, nine o’clock in the goddamned morning. Then they would go back to sleep for a couple hours, wake up, and smoke some weed to start their day.

John and Marc were great for me, though—at least at the start—because they were from St. Louis. Born and raised. They were the first people to take me out on the town and show me around. They showed me where to buy my weed—which was actually pretty hilarious, because they got all their shit from a fat black dude named Q who worked in the drive-thru of a local Steak ‘n Shake—and they took me to see shows at the local venues, and they’d drive me out to Marc’s parents house in the outer ‘burbs, which was huge.2 We’d have parties out there whenever Marc’s parents were out of town, which was actually quite a bit because they were getting ready to move down south somewhere, and were always going down there to look at property.

The thing was, though, that after a while John and Marc’s circle of high school buddies that were always hanging around started to wear on me a little—I mentioned that earlier. They had all that history together—all those inside jokes and anecdotes and all that loyalty that seems really nice at first, but really ends up making people lazy and afraid of change after a while. I started to feel like I had actually never left high school myself. So I started seeking out other circles with which to insert myself. These guys who came around to Marc and John’s room every once in a while to score some weed were pretty laid back, and they lived on the floor above us. Their names were Phil and Isaac. Phil was a California boy who had grown up in Salinas, on the Pacific coast, which prompted all of us who had never travelled west and had our ultra-idealized fantasies of California in our heads to ask him why the hell he had come to the Midwest. (His mother worked for the university and got him a really good deal on tuition, or something like that). As for Isaac, he was a classic cinephile type, born and raised in St. Louis, and he resembled the Dude from The Big Lebowski—always stoned, always in sweatpants. He even drank White Russians almost exclusively.

Anyway, I started hanging out with Phil and Isaac more, and Phil and I totally hit it off. He needed a roommate, as his previous roommate was not unlike Brett or Brent—one of those jock types who decided that he needed to drop out of Webster and go to a school with a fraternity and more “loose chicks.” So I said sayonara to Brett or Brent, and I moved into Phil’s room.

Phil was a handsome kid with a neatly trimmed goatee, a friendly smile, and a southern California sense of style. He and I started cruising around together in his tricked out BMW with black lights under the dash, flashy rims, and a lowered suspension. I was at the height of my adolescent kleptomania at the time, and when I got off work at this little deli I had been rolling burritos for, Phil would pick me up and I’d go steal us a big bottle of good liquor from the local big-box grocery store down the street, Schnucks.3 We’d bring the bottle back to the dorms and have some drinks with a joint or two before hitting up some of the other kids on the floor, seeing if they wanted to go drive around and find some shit to get into.

It was around then that I met Leah.

Leah lived right down the hallway from Phil and I, along with her friend, Lilith. Lilith and Leah were both into a lot of the same music as I was, and they were down to party pretty much whenever Phil and I were. The first time Leah came around to my room alone, I was probably listening to some Bob Marley or something cliché like that and working on a paper for one of my classes, and she came in wearing this tight tube top without a bra. She totally took me off guard.

“Hey,” she said, leaning on the doorframe in the open door. I looked at her tube top, her pale, flat stomach, then quickly caught myself, shifting my gaze up to her eyes and smiling.

“What’s going on?” I stammered. “What...uh...what are you doing?”

I had already thought Leah was cool and everything—she was hyper smart, funny, and had great taste in music and books and all that—but after that entrance—after she stood right there next to me and leaned over me and asked about my paper, with her nipples in my face and her sweet breath surrounding me—well, after that she had my attention pretty much all the time. Then one night, we were alone in her room listening to records, and she asked me to give her a massage. She slipped my hand down between her legs and put her hand between mine, and then she got me up into her bed and unbuttoned my jeans and slipped off her shorts and took my virginity. Just like that. It took all of three minutes, tops. I made some excuse that she was way too good and that my last girl had been a dead fish, but in all honesty, I had never even come close to getting laid in high school. My high school experience, as I mentioned earlier, had been nothing but one long dry hump.

So after that night, Leah and I were pretty much attached at the hip for the next few weeks. She was all I needed, really. But we weren’t even one month into our relationship before the honeymoon ended—as they do—and things got real.

It turned out that Leah was clinically depressed. She managed to hide it from me for our first few weeks together, but then she just couldn’t do it any more. It started to show itself—mostly in her retreating to her room, turning the lights off, and refusing to come out for anything.

It always happened the same way. A couple weeks into the semester, Leah had moved out of the dorms to the university apartments where kids with rich parents could afford to live. I’d go over there and Leah would turn off the television. We’d sit on her couch and smoke a bowl. I’d put a record on. She’d walk to the kitchen, right there in the same room, and put on a pot of water for tea. Then she’d come back over to me, stripping some of her clothes off, and we’d mess around a little, go into her bedroom for a while, and then take a nap or shower. Then we’d be talking and thinking about going out and finding Phil or Lilith or something and she’d turn off. Like someone pulled a plug.

And those were the good nights. On the bad nights the plug would get pulled far earlier. Sometimes before I even got over to her apartment. Sometimes I’d be walking around the black asphalt parking lot on that white cement sidewalk around those neatly trimmed bushes by the hot tub that Phil and I used to break into after hours, and I’d be all excited to see my girl, and then I’d look up at her window and see that it was dark and the shades were drawn. After a while I learned to not even try knocking when that was the case. She’d be in her huge bed with her thick white down comforter up over her head, and she wouldn’t come to the door for anyone.

On those nights, I would get so down on everything that I would avoid everyone and leave campus altogether. I’d walk for hours down Big Bend Boulevard, through Richmond Heights, and sometimes all the way through Forest Park to the Central West End—a good twelve miles round trip. I would just walk and maybe smoke some weed, and I’d think of all those travel books and all my favorite characters, and I’d think about how as soon as I just couldn’t take school anymore—as soon as I started to get bored with everything—I’d just get up and leave. I thought about how I had to do that at some point—how I had to do it while I was still young, before the university life managed to scoop up whatever was left of my spirit and funnel me into the downward spiral of some sort of career pursuit or another. What was I in school for writing for, anyway? Screw being taught an art, I wanted to turn myself into art—make myself into the project I would work on for the rest of my life.

I would think about all that while walking and seeing the city at night—piece by piece, building by building—and I loved those walks, even if the part of the city I was walking through was just boring ol’ Richmond Heights. Back on campus, though, I have to admit that I’d always walk by Leah’s place before walking back to the dorms. Sometimes her light would be on, and I’d go over there and we’d run our whole routine, just a few hours later than usual. Other times, though, she wouldn’t even come to the door. And sadly enough, thinking back on all that now that I am more than a dozen years removed from the situation, that depression is still what I remember most about Leah—the way it would consume her, over and over again.

 Webster University is named after the place in which it resides—a mellow, inner-ring suburb of St. Louis called Webster Groves. It’s got a nice campus, with lots of old buildings and trees—some nuns founded it as a Catholic women’s college in 1915 before the first male students were admitted in 1962. ↩︎

 When Marc’s parents finally sold the house, they ended up selling it to some hot shot rookie for the St. Louis Cardinals. ↩︎

 When I say I was “at the height of my adolescent kleptomania,” what I mean is that it was pretty bad right around then. I would have never stolen from an individual person, or from a mom and pop sort of store, but big box department stores and grocery chains were like all-you-can-eat buffets to me. Nothing was off limits. I actually used to go into department stores in the mall or wherever and take like five t-shirts into the dressing room, put ‘em all on, then put my own shirt on over ‘em, cover up with a jacket or a hooded sweatshirt, and walk right the fuck out. I’d never have the balls to do that sort of thing nowadays. ↩︎

#college #stlouis #websteruniversity #artschool #fratboys #bobdylan #milesdavis #ledzeppelin #thedoors #jimihendrix #thegratefuldead #weed #opium #steaknshake #schnucks #suburbs #virginity #depression

[oddlymysteriousphoenix]

#86 12:42am November 12

Dear goodness, I'm horrendous on keeping schedule, college has been doing a flawless job in with not doing my journal, such shame that has bring me, ah. I forgot to mention long ago that I went to a place that handled dementia, all old people, it shocked me that they seemed mainly normal. I would write more, but it was all so long ago so my reactions aren’t so pure as they were back then to it. I’m trying to recall much of what has happened since I haven’t written in ages and now I am upset at myself now, how lovely. Today was nice, just nice, mom was away in Cape Coral with her friends as I wasted my day in a way that makes me guilty. Brenda now takes me home whenever it’s Wednesday which was starting for some 2 weeks ago, very nice of her. She has also stayed home about twice so far, the other times she was too occupied to stay home. I also managed to fix my stuck string from my electric guitar, at first I put olive oil as it was stuck, I looked up on how to get it out and that was what I read from this thread so I did that, it took me another week after I tried another method which this country redneck guy told to just use the thicker strings and push it out, poof, it was magic to my eyes once it works so I put the ‘’new’’ strings in which I have had since I gotten the guitar, but since it wasn’t exposed to air, the packet of strings haven’t aged.  Finally done in doing so, as it took a tedious amount of time to put the strings to the guitar, soon plugged it to my amp that I last used about 2 or a year ago.  I’m thinking of possibly purchasing some pedals to play around with the red guitar. Maybe some distortion or something, I haven’t looked into it. Oh, I also managed to visit Estock and Krupp two Fridays ago, including this one.  His birthday was just this last past Saturday, as in the other one, not the one that just past right now as I type. I’m loading with projects this week, not in my favor, but it’s life. I think I might get into focusing in business, yet I still want to get into guitar. I know I’m losing time, but at least I could one day press a reset button to run away to some new start, that would be great. Maybe one day, some day. I haven’t drawn at all, I do doodle, but even that is awful, ouf. I will be going to my dad in December, not looking forward to it as much since of the tensions between my mom and dad, it isn’t fun hearing the complaints every day from each side. What I do prefer to hear is some indie music I keep finding on Youtube which drives me to focus on music, if only I could play the language of music. Feels as every moment I try to replicate it, it’s a mutated copy of the song, especially when I start singing. I would love to carry the flag to revive the rock industry, as of now it’s vacant, submerged by rappers in which I can’t get along with at all, what a shame. No clue, I would like to raise rock music back up into the radio stations, not making pop songs myself though. I would end myself before I start making actual pop songs compared to this day, dear goodness no. As stated as time passed, underground society would be great to have it grow and prosper one day. I managed to text Juan/Angel awhile back ago, he’s in some rough stuff from her significant other carrying a developing child while he’s working almost constantly. Although I’m honestly never really there for him, he still considered me a good friend with friendship being enough which was more than great to hear. Alyssa is awfully sick with her gallbladder, the doctors will have to remove it apparently as it has stones in it. She says it without being seriously, saying she hopes to die, yet if she did mean it I wouldn’t blame her for it. Ah, I need to write more often, kills me that there’s so ton to say, ton to show and tell. Still thinking on doing smaller entries from my phone, as time passes by or something. Been having these odd feelings on my arms, a burning feeling on my skin on the top side where my arms bends, not a clue why this is occurring. Been also having dreams happening often, no clue what that means, probably need to stop eating before I sleep, who knows?  Gotta keep going somewhere in life, hah. Oh goodness I am surely exhausted from wasting my day again. Old habits die hard I suppose. Maybe I’ll die hard too, whatever that insists. I talked to Bubba and his pals just before writing this, pretty nice. I’m in some weird mood where I would love to randomly explode the heck out of this planet in some insane way, not literally of course. Almost as a careless but emotionally a wreck from all the regrets.  Ill get that friend list in order eventually, bleh.

-1:27am