#to chicago to open up another where he meets sydney | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

equallyshaw · 4 months

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𝓼𝓮𝓮𝓲𝓷 𝓻𝓮𝓭 | 𝓶𝓪𝓽 𝓫𝓪𝓻𝔃𝓪𝓵 𝓪𝓾 ↠ love at first sight! ↠ au masterlist!

↠ warnings: none? ↠ word count: 2.3K +

when sydney told olivia that they'd be hosting the team's new years party that year, olivia was not too thrilled. she was looking rather forward to spending the night out on the town, but once sydney demanded her sister's presence that evening; she'd be getting it come hell or highwater. it was around 7 pm when she heard music beginning to play, throughout the house and sighed. she had just finished her makeup and hair for the evening, and quickly sent a few texts out to her best friends naomi and nastia, who were in california and chicago that evening. sydney propped open her door just a bit, "can you watch the girls for a few minutes?" and with that olivia turned around with a huge grin on her face with her hands open wide for her two nieces for them to run towards her. she picked both of them up and pretended to eat them, causing them to shriek loudly bringing a smile to sydney's face.

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it was two hours later, and after many many rounds of playing barbies with the two girls- she was relieved by another wag for a bit to grab a drink. she sighed loudly and playfully, once she reached the kitchen counter where matt and sydney were talking with another player. "god! they are so mini you's." she teased while opening up a seltzer, to which matt laughed loudly. "they are a mini syd." he joked, causing sydney to slap his arm playfully. "you are off babysitting duty for the night, i promise." sydney mused passing a small plate snacks,f from the charcuterie board. "good. i could use the night off every once in awhile." she joked, causing the two parents to laugh and tease her relentlessly. "oh! you need a night off?" both sydney and matt joked, causing her to giggle. "why yes!" she hummed, before taking her plate and drink towards the living room. she quickly made her way over towards grace - anders lee's wife and holly, bo horvat's wife. "hey!" grace beemed, pulling the red head into a small hug. "hi holls!" grace said hugging holly as well, "what have i missed?" she grinned sipping some of her drink. "oh lets fill you in!" grace joked, and the three went into catching up mode.

this was the first time in a few years that olivia had made it home for the holidays, her father and mother had been visiting her for the past four plus years while she had been at school in los angeles. she hadn't come back for much of her breaks, besides the off-season, because she was a sucker for new england summers.

she was engrossed in a long conversation when mat had shown up at the party. he greeted some teammates, and their partners before he saw the infamous red head that was never to be found. since matt had been traded from toronto, he had yet to see olivia in the flesh.

oh, how he could not bare to look away.

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it was around 11 when mat had finally worked up the courage to say hi and introduce himself. the two found themselves in the kitchen grabbing some refreshment replacements, and snacking on some more appetizers. "you're olivia right?" mat asked as the two hadn't said anything to each other for a few minutes. she looked up from her phone, and nodded. "yes. and you are?" she questioned looking at mat. she had never seen him before, and she could see the somewhat arrogance oozing off of him. he looked at her, taking in her blue eyes. god, mat knew he was officially gone - even if she hadn't spoken more than a few words to him.

"im mat." he said not moving from where he stood, a few feet away from her. she nodded giving him a small nod, "nice to meet you mat." she said respectfully. he nodded, continuing to look at her as he sipped his amber looking drink. "this is the first time I've see you before, what got you over to the east coast?" he said somewhat teasing, somewhat seriously. she sipped her drink before responding, "well, I've been in los angeles at ucla for the past four years. i graduated in 2022, but haven't had a chance to come back since the summertime. which meant you weren't here." she mirroring his tone. he tsked his tongue, "such a shame. I've heard a lot about you, and how fun you are." he said grinning. "oh really? i am just enough fun, thankyou." she hummed, "a respectable amount." she teased cocking her head to the side just a bit. "interesting. but seriously, syd and matt always said that you're welcome but that you never take up their offer?" he questioned, sipping more of his drink.

the fucking nerve of this dude, she thought.

"well, thats not really your business is it?" she questioned slyly. he chuckled as she sighed, knowing he was not giving up. "since my parents moved to california full time, i really don't have a huge reason to come back here. besides, long island is their home. not mine." she said truthfully, "besides, its not like i can leave los angeles whenever i feel like it. i have work there, that i have to tend to." she said shifting her feet. "oh really? what kind of work, anything interesting?" he questioned, actually interested. she nodded, "i have a boutique jewelry shop that i run with my mom. im actually here on business, we are interested in opening up another shop in the hamptons actually." she said feeling the shift in the conversation. the tense conversation turning to genuine. "oh really? that's actually really cool." he said and she nodded, "yep." she said a bit too short, than she had anticipated. "whats it called, like the name?" he questioned. she smiled, "it's called greenwich jewels." she said. "i think that's the first smile you've had since this conversation started." she rolled her eyes. "there you go, ruining the vibe." she said chuckling just a bit. "me?" he teased, "yes! just when i thought that you were actually being nice and interested, you go and ruin it with your demeanor and your sarcastic tone." she said shaking her head, and mat was eating this interaction all up.

when he didn't respond, and all but continued to stare at her, she scoffed. "you're unbearable, guess all the rumors i've heard have been true." she chastised, before turning to leave. "oh? you have heard of me, huh?" he questioned, trying to get her to not leave. she froze, turning towards him just a bit, "unfortunately." she grimaced before leaving the kitchen.

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she was on facetime with kappy, around 11:50 while she was in the office on the first floor. she needed a few minutes by herself and then kappy called, and it was good timing. "yeah barzal is an animal, definitely a jerk." he said and that made olivia laughed loudly. "are you sure you didn't describe yourself?" she teased, and he flipped her off in the process. "but seriously, when are you coming to st louis red?" he questioned and she shrugged. "do i seriously have to wait until the off-season?" he questioned, and she shrugged again. "ill let you know." she said truthfully. he nodded, "but you're the CEO you make your own schedule i thought?" he said causing her to laugh loudly again. "alrighty kap, hush." she said rubbing her face softly, holding back a giggle. " ill call you in a few days?" she questioned and kappy nodded, "happy new years red." he smiled, to which she mirroed. "happy new years kappy." she hummed, before ending the facetime. she plopped her phone onto the white desk in front of her, as she stretched her body out. she was ready to go to bed, and knew she'd be taking the two little ones to bed shortly at 12; and give their parents some time without the little ones.

her head whipped to the door, as it squeked open. she rolled her eyes as she scowled. mat smirked, stepping into the room. "if you wanted privacy for our new years kiss, you should have just said so. i had to search the whole house like a sleuth." he said amused. she scoffed, turning back towards him. "what is your problem?" she demanded, as her phone began to go off. the both of them looked towards her phone that was still on the desk, and 'zeeeegrass' flashed on the screen. she gave mat a glare, as she picked up her phone. she swiped to accept, and saw the lovely dirty blonde fill her screen. "hi z." she said looking up at mat who only leaned against the door, still staring at her. "yo! when are you back home again?" he questioned and olivia tore her glare from mat to trevor. "seriously z? i've told you how many times?" she said a tad bit annoyed, "oh woah, who pissed you off?" he asked animated. she giggled, "you'd never guess." she said monotoned. trevor grinned, "let me guess, matty said some bad jokes." and that made olivia laughed. "no, but i wish it had been that." she said truthfully, "but ill be back on the 7th." she followed up. "cool cool well happy new years ginger, but i gotta go. jacks calling me." and she felt the blood drain from her face. "oh. nice. well happy new years z." she said, now desperately trying to get off the phone. "alsooooo, my new years resolution is to figure out what happened between the two of you in the hamptons, will i have that resolution granted?" he teased, and she shook her head no before hanging up. she stood up now, feeling somewhat nauseous, and wanted to desperately hide her face from the world.

"please let me go mat." she said looking at the ground, as mat had not moved from the door. she looked up at him now, and crossed her arms. "id like to leave, without making a scene." she said unenthused. he grinned, "now i gotta know...what did happen between the two of you, huh?" he teased taking his arm off the door, and took a step closer towards the redhead. she shook her head, "none of your business- again." she chastised. he chuckled a bit, "if you tell me, ill tell you a secret." he said enticingly but she gave him a disgusted look. "you're actually crazy, mat. wild." she said as she heard the group outside beginning to count down from 12. he stepped right in front of her, invading her space. she could feel the heat and arrogance radiating off of him, making her shiver with a chill. "mat.." she trailed off as he leaned in, pausing just before his lips would have met hers. he smirked, staring straight into her blue eyes.

she swallowed harshly, as she looked down at his lips. as soon as they heard 'one' from the other room, mat swiftly took hold of her by placing his hands on her lower back while simultaneously kissing her. her hands instinctively went to his face, to hold on to him in some way. his hand began to move down further before she realized that she had been kissing him back. she pulled back, not meeting his eye. without saying a word or looking at him, she moved past him and out of the room. as soon as she was halfway down the hallway, she placed a soft finger on her rosy lips. she cursed herself on how vulnerable she had been, and how much she liked the kiss. but she hated the guy. she quickly filtered herself into the living room seeing sydney and matt with the two girls, and olivia kneeled down to them to hug the two. "who's ready for bed?!" she said and the girls shook their heads, and jumped up and down. "i thought we said no sugar past 9:30?" she questioned looking up at sydney, and then the both of them looked at matt. he put his hands up in innocence, causing the two sisters to laugh. "you guys enjoy the rest of the evening, im gonna head up with these two." she said grabbing ahold of their hands, and the three of them headed upstairs. as she picked up the youngest one at the base of the stars, she saw mat coming back into the living room. the two froze momentarily before olivia broke eye contact, and headed upstairs.

while she headed upstairs, mat went to go say by the hostess'. "mat! happy new years, darling." sydney said pulling the younger hockey player in for a hug. she left an arm on his shoulder, as they turned towards matt. "thanks for the hospitality, but im gonna head out. a bit more tired than i had anticipated." he said and the couple nodded. "lets walk you out. but first, take some desserts!" sydney said pulling mat towards the kitchen, along with matt.

matt for the rest of the night, could not shake the red head and even acknowledged that he may have gone too far. he realized that that he might have been a jerk, at some points. though the girl would argue, it was the whole time. even as he drove towards his apartment where his ex was waiting for him, he couldn't shake the girl. he cursed himself, once he realized he wanted to see her again. even if in the capacity he did not totally want.

but he knew one thing, he was smitten.

back upstairs a little while later, as the two girls were tucked in and read to sleep; olivia headed towards her room that the two young ones had dubbed 'tie tie's room', because it was right across from theirs. she laid down on her back, looking up at the white ceiling that was straight out of the gilded age. her thoughts were running a mile a minute, she hated mat and wished she would have slapped him. slap that stupid but attractive smirk off of his face. no, she despised that arrogant and cunning canadian. she turned over on her stomach and screamed into the comforter. she needed to get back to california without seeing him, or else she might hurt his feelings.

no, she'd kill him.

hope you all enjoyed! please like and reblog if you did (:

tags: @toasttt11 @cillianthinker

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fictionalmenmakemecry · 5 months

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Fuckin' with the Ecosystem- Chapter 5

Characters: Carmy Berzatto x reader, Richie, Sugar, Sydney

Summary: The tension between you and Carmy has made work a little more uncomfortable, since the last time you saw him, he was running out your door. With the renovation of 'The Bear' on its way, the challenges start building up. This leads to a hospital visit and you meeting someone from Carmy's past.

Warnings: Blood (If any way squeamish), Fluff, Angst, Cursing, Mold

A/n: Things are getting ssppiicyy! This chapter is starting to get to the knit and grit of it. I hope you guys are ready for it. Thank you for all the support. I've had a lot of fun writing this chapter. Please, please let me know what you think! I want to know if you're enjoying it or not. It's a long one, so get a hot beverage and buckle up!

If you haven't read, here's: Chapter 1 , Chapter 2, Chapter 3 and Chapter 4

Enjoy!

You woke up in your apartment, and your eyes getting forced into focus and landing on the stale Chinese that was left on your floor. The memories from the past night flooded your brain. Your first night in Chicago and a memorable one, not for a good reason.

You pulled yourself off the mattress of the floor and went to the bathroom dreary eyed. You took the next five minutes to figure out how the shower worked before hopping in.

"Why can't we just paint around'em'?" Richie voice carried as Carmy entered the back door.

"I wanna do this right. You're being lazy", Fak said back.

Carmy walked up to see Richie, Fak, and Marcus near the lockers.

"Ayyy Cousin, your back" Richie brought his hands up grinning.

"How did it go?" Marcus asked, leaning up against the wall.

"Yeah- fine..." Carmy hummed, scratching his neck.

"Is she coming in?" Richie asked, messing with a paint scrapper.

Carmy paused, his mind lagging behind the rest of him.

Richie glanced over to Marcus with furrowed eyebrows and Marcus shrugged his shoulders. Both of them aware of the mess, which was Carmy, in front of them.

"Oh.. uh.. yeah, maybe, " He mumbled, walking away.

"Um.. okay then, "

"I'm telling you, it's not gonna take that long. Don't make me get mom," Fak brought Richie's attention back

"The fuck you are" He snapped.

"Watch me" Fak threatened leaning into Richie

"I dare you," Richie warned, towering over his short stature.

"Mom... mom.." Fak said quietly, pushing Richie's buttons.

"Do it." Richie spat back.

Marcus stood between them, watching them argue. He decided to take matters into his own hands and start unscrewing the bracket off one of the lockers.

Carmy knocked on the opened door of the office. Sugar's head popped up with a smile on her face.

"Hey," She spoke softly.

Carmy nodded.

"Where Syd?" He asked, looking down the hallway.

"She's not in today. She's gone to talk to some old colleagues about the new menu" Sugar clicked the pen in her hand a couple of times.

"Oh, right- yeah... I remember her telling me somethin' about that, " He uttered, thinking back.

"You alright? You seem....off. " Sugar looked at Carmy worriedly.

Sugar was always tuned into Carmy. As the years passed growing up together, Carmy was always cold and distant. Never wanted much attention from anyone. Sugar had this innate behavior to pick up whatever subtle mood Carmy was in. Whether he wanted to show it or not.

"Uhh.. yeah, just a rough couple of days.."

"Wha-"

"MOMM" Fak voice traveled immediately, breaking Sugar's train of thought.

She got up from the chair and sighed, making her way out to the sound of bittering between Richie and Fak.

Carmy took the place of Sugar. He rubbed his hands over his face, wanting this day to be already over.

He brought out his phone and looked over your old texts. Should he text you good morning ? Or maybe sorry, sorry for dipping like an ass.

He didn't want you to think that he was coming on to you just to sleep with you. He was so worried that you would think he's just another asshole guy thinking with his dick. Once he left, he realized that's what you probably thought of him. He wanted to tell you how much you meant to him. That the feelings bubbling up inside of him were getting out of control and he didn't know how to handle it. The only thing he was certain of now, was that he needed to ignore them and focus on the restaurant.

His fingers hovered over the keyboard for a moment. He locked his phone and tossed it on the desk.

He leaned over, letting his head hang, still feeling exhausted. At this point, he wanted to forget about last night. He had too much shit going on right now. He couldn't buckle. Especially with everything going to plan, this was a critical time. Last night was a mistake. He was tired, and emotions were high. He needed space from you. He needed to reset himself.

"Good to have you here in one piece, sweetheart." Carmy heard Richie call out.

He could feel his heart thump knowing that you were in.

Fuck.

He continued to sit there listening to the conversations you were having with everyone. He was trying to grasp your mood. His leg started to jitter.

"I'm just glad that I'm here so the real work can start," you chuckled.

"Ooh you little bitch" Richie grinned crossing his arms.

"Is Carmy in?" You asked in a more serious tone.

"Office," Sugar hummed, making you look behind, not noticing her before.

You turned with open arms and hugged each other. Even though you haven't been in the last few weeks, you've gotten close to Sugar with being on the phone so much. She seemed to be always available when you needed her even with the chaos she was dealing with here.. You appreciated that, with the stress of moving.

"Hi," you smiled.

"I've gotta check out your new apartment sometime?" Sugar asked looking into your eyes, pulling away from the hug.

"Definitely, thanks again"

You made your way to the office hearing a cluster of voices start again from the locker situation.

You took a deep breath, wanting to just get past this. You walked up to the doorway, feeling your hands clam up.

Carmy was sitting in the chair scrolling through his phone.

"Hi...." You smiled weakly, not wanting your voice to sound shaky.

"Hey." He bluntly said, continuing to scroll.

"I just want to talk about last ni-"

"No need. I fucked up. Don't worry about it." He looked up finally, his lips pressed and eyes cold.

You were caught off guard with his bluntness.

"Oh, well.. no-" You started, wanting to explain your thoughts.

"Honestly, it's all good. Things are hectic right now, so let's just forget it." He stood up and shoved his phone in his pocket.

You moved to the side to let him brush past. No words came to your mind after being dismissed the way you were. You heard him chime into the conversation with the others. You stood there, not quite understanding what happened.

Was he mad?

Your stomach sunk from the disappointment. Was Carmy not the person you thought he was? You thought he would understand the situation you had with Nick. But it seemed like he didn't even care. Maybe you didn't know Carmy as well as you thought you did.

That thought made your stomach churn. Everything was perfect one moment and then gone the next. You sat down on the chair and passively looked through some of the documents that Sugar asked you to look over. You were reading the words, but nothing was going in. Your mind was far away from work.

"You need to take the lockers down." Carmy said, glancing at Richie, who was rolling his eyes.

"Don't see the po-"

"Cousin, if we gonna do this, aren't half assin' it"

"Thank you," Fak chimed in, gesturing his hand to Carmy.

"Where's the paint?" Carmy asked looking down at the one can on the floor.

Fak gave a side eye to Marcus realizing they might have messed up. Carmy brought eyes back to them.

"That's it?" He whipped, seeing the expressions on their face.

"Well.. it's cost a lot... for just one can. The one you wanted.... We could only get one, " Fak explained, scratching his forehead.

Carmy exhaled out feeling annoyed with the situation. He felt the money slipping through his fingers and they haven't even started on the big jobs yet. He brought his hand over his face, puling down his expression while thinking.

"Look.... it's fine. I know it's not gonna to be enough. We'll increase the budget for the paint. Don't have an option"

"Marcus, go with him, make sure he gets enough, maybe another two cans" He continued.

"No worries, Chef." Marcus nodded and followed Fak out, making their way to the office to get one of the bundles of money that was hidden before continuing with the mission of getting more paint.

Richie and Carmy started unscrewing the old rusted brackets of the lockers. Richie groaned on about how his date last night was the dullest one he has had yet.

"Cousin, listen, this broad was stiffer than a slab of plaster." He explained, as the brackets creaked and started slowly pulling away from the wall.

"Mhmmm," Carmy peeked to the front side of the lockers over to Richie, making sure the lockers didn't topple over.

"When I brought up Bill Murray, she didn't even fuckin' blink. Like Bill Fuckin' Murray and I got nothin'. I had enough after that. Paid the bill and left. " He sighed.

The lockers creaked more and more as they lifted away from the wall. They were beyond their prime, with rust covering the sides of them. As Richie and Carmy moved the lockers away from the wall, the exposed back part of the locker broke away. Carmy readjusted his hand to get a better grip to start lifting it away from the wall. With his hand moving and not looking at where it was going, the rusted back panel glided along the inside of his hand.

"FUCKK" Carmy spat, dropping the locker immediately while looking down at his bleeding hand.

Carmy saw blood emerge from the palm. A long cut from one side to the other side.

Richie quickly worked his way around the locker to see Carmy gripping onto his wrist, his hand getting more and more covered in blood.

"Christ," Richie exclaimed, racing to the kitchen to get a clean rag.

"Shit" Carmy hissed.

He thought of you in that second, knowing that you knew first aid. He was hesitant to get you, with everything that was going on between you two, but the amount of blood was freaking him out.

Hearing Carmy yell out your name in such distress made you instantly jump up and run over to the commotion. As you turned the corner, you saw Carmy look to you with panic set in his eyes.

Richie is holding a rag tight around his hand. Your eyes traveled down to see splotches of blood on the ground where they were standing.

"What happened?" You asked frantically, rushing to Carmy's side.

"I-I fuckin' sliced my hand on the locker" Carmy spat feeling the pain get more intense now that the shock was wearing off.

You glanced over to see the loose panel, sticking out.

"Lemme see." You leaned over carefully, taking the rag away.

His hand was pumping blood, and travelling all over his hand. The rag was already dyed red.

"Carmy, it's deep. You gonna have to go to the hospital" you winced looking at his fresh open wound.

"Fuck me" He leaned his head back hating the thought of being stuck in the E.R for the rest of the day.

You looked over to the locker to see rusted metal exposed. You didn't want to take your chances. He was definitely going to the E.R.

"Someone's gonna have to bring him to hospital" You looked around.

"I'll bring 'im" Richie offered, still holding pressure to Carmy's hand

"No...no, you gotta stay here and finish this" Carmy said adamantly.

"Sugar?" You asked, not seeing her anywhere.

"Gone to get us lunch." Richie flickered his eyes to you briefly.

You exhaled knowing you were going to have to do it. Which wasn't great after the whole fiasco last night.

"I-I'll take him" you sighed knowing it was going to be awkward as hell.

"No..no you gotta stay here and sort things out with Suga'"

"Well one more day isn't gonna break us" Richie spoke up.

"Let me just fuckin' bring you ok?" You snapped getting annoyed from the lack of urgency between the two of them.

"Fine" Carmy said bluntly.

Richie offered his car and helped Carmy in the passenger seat as you got in the driver.

"Don't go too hard on her" Richie cheekily grinned leaning on the passenger window.

"Why the fu-"

"He's talking about the car," You smirked back at Richie

Carmy did an audible sigh clutching on to the newly stained rag on his hand. You looked over your shoulder after putting the car in reverse. Richie gave a salute watching you both pull away.

"How far away is the hospital?" You asked pulling up to a junction.

"About ... uh.. 20 minutes... if traffic is not bad" Carmy mumbled keeping his head down.

He continued to give you directions as you got closer and closer. No other topics were brought up, and to say it was awkward was an understatement. The tension in the air was bad, and you glanced over to him from time to time, but he would just stare out the window gripping onto his injured hand.

"Carmy, I just want to talk about las-"

"Can we not?" He cut across you.

You took a deep breath not appreciating his coldness towards you out of nowhere.

"Why.... Why can't we talk?" You said gently, not wanting to make the situation worse than it already was.

"Cause' I'm in a fuck ton of pain. Is that ok?" He looked at you for the first time since being in the car.

"...Okay" You hummed

You tried to not take it personal as you knew he was in a bad spot right now. He was having a hard time. But you wanted this out in the air. To just talk about what happened. What went wrong. Why was he so distant from you.

As you pulled up to the E.R door Carmy struggled to unbuckle his belt but after a few attempts he got it.

"I'll see you in there, let me just park the car" You said before watching him get out.

After 15 minutes of driving around trying to find something, you were finally able to park the car. You walked through the sliding doors and looked around to see if you could find a curly haired man sitting down with a bleeding hand. As your eyes scanned, you found him in the backend of one of the rows of seats.

"Want help?" You asked gently, sitting beside him

You watch him struggle writing with his left hand while holding the clip board against his lap with his injured one.

He brought his eyes up and nodded, giving a weak smile. It wasn't much, but it was something. He told you the information as you worked down through the form.

"My birthday is-"

He paused noticing that you were already started writing down his digits of his birthday.

"You remember?" A small smile creeping up on his face naturally.

You glanced up and nodded. Of course you remembered. You remembered forcing him to tell you years ago. He was stubborn, but after snooping through his application for the job that was stored away, you found out.

A minor detail that you remembered about him meant a lot to him. He never expected anyone to know his birthday as usually he thought the day was more of a burden for everyone than anything else. He always tried to glide past his birthday as fast as possible, which was hard to do when he lived in Chicago. But in New York, it was easy to forget when no one knew it in the first place. But when you got to know each other more, you demanded to know.

He didn't even realize you knew until it was the end of a long service night.

"Carmy, there's gonna be a problem with your paycheck this week, for some reason the direct debit is gonna be offline" You explained standing on the other side of the of the counter he was scrubbing.

"What you mean?" He squinted his eyes, figuring out what you were on about.

"I don't know, something about the bank fuckin' up. Vince wants you in his office" You continued.

"Uhh.. ok" Carmy looked over his cleaned bench before throwing a rag over his shoulder making his way to the office with you following behind.

He really didn't need this to happen right now as he was already behind on rent and he couldn't give his landlord anymore excuses.

Carmy gently knocked the closed office door before opening it, sticking his head in to see a small sponge cake with buttercream frosting sitting on the desk in completely darkness with candles on top brightening up the room.

His face light up immediately. He looked back to see your face covered in a cheeky grin.

"Un-fuckin'-believable" He shook his head with a huge smile on his face.

You ushered him into the office trying not let anyone know what was going on. You closed the door behind you and saw him look down at the cake with the candlelight reflecting off his eyes.

"I told you I would find out" You cackled, going over next to him.

"Who else knows?" He glanced at you.

"No one. Hence why we are hiding in Vince's office. Plus, I don't have enough cake for everyone.... So it's our little secret. " You giggled, feeling the mischievousness get to you a little.

You watched as he stared down at the cake smiling, like he didn't think it was real.

"Happy Birthday Carm" You said quietly, feeling your cheeks hurt from all the grinning.

He looked over at you and mouthed thank you. He gave you a half hug with his one arm wrapped around your shoulders before leaning down and blowing out the candles bringing the room to darkness.

"Carmy?" A woman called out.

Carmy got ripped out of his dissociated state by a familiar woman's voice.

You both looked up to see a brown hair woman in navy scrubs glancing down at him.

You looked over to him with his eyebrows furrowed.

"Uhh......Claire?" He eventually said.

She nodded eagerly.

"Oh my god, it's been so long. I didn't know you were back in town" She grinned.

He sat there for a moment. He couldn't believe Claire was here. He was caught completely off guard. His attention snapped back when you gave a light cough, realizing he hasn't introduced you yet.

"Hi Claire, nice to meet you" You leaned over shaking her hand when Carmy finally got the words to introduce you after staring at her for awkwardly long time.

"What happened?" You watched as she brought her attention to the blood stained cloth.

"Uhh.. I-I had an accident- but n-nothing too serious" Carmy stuttered.

"Okay, well let me have a look at it for you and get you fixed up" She smiled flickering her eye between the both of you.

Whatever you were witnessing, you felt like the third wheel. You felt like you were watching their meet cute after years of not seeing each other. You could sense something going on between them which unsettled you.

"Do you want to head back? I think I'll be okay from here" He looked over to you pressing his lips together.

You glanced up and noticed her eyes soft with kindness and joy like she was in a Hollywood movie as 'the girl next door'.

"Um... okay" you brought your eyes back to him.

You were taken aback with being dismissed so quickly. You definitely felt that you were interfering with something between them now.

"What about your ride? I could wait out here til' your done" You offered.

"I'll call Richie. I think you head back and make sure everyone still on track" He gave a quick smile.

"Thanks for bringing him in" Claire hummed taking the half filled form off of you.

You watched as Carmy followed Claire down the hall. You were left sitting there not understanding what had happened.

What was going on? Who is Claire? Is she his ex?

All these thoughts whizzed through your head as you made your way back to the restaurant with Google Maps on your lap.

If she was his ex, then they must have ended pretty civil.

Family friend maybe?

But the way she looked at him. The way her eyes sparkled when she first came over. It definitely seemed more than friends.

You continued to overthink as you pulled up and put Richie's car into park. You sat there for a moment to gather your thoughts and pull yourself together.

"Ayye , you're back fast," Richie chimed, unscrewing the lockers on the other wall.

"Just me," you gave a weak smile.

"Did he bleed out on the way there?" Richie scoffed turning the screwdriver against the wall.

"Ha. Ha". You mocked walking over to him,

"Do you know a Claire?" You questioned, handing back Richie's keys.

He paused on what he was doing, putting the keys back in his pocket, and a smile emerged his face.

"Claire? Highschool Claire?"

You shrugged, not trying to show not to care. You had a feeling that your poker face wasn't working though.

"Why?" He walked over closer to you.

"She was at the hospital. She's looking after him." You stated.

You could feel Richie eyes on your face, trying to pick up any emotion resting on your face.

"Yea, yeah, that sounds about 'ight. I think I remember Fak sayin' somethin' about that" His eyes still on you.

"I remember running into her couple of years ago and I barely recognized her. You should have seen her in her ugly duckling stage."

You instinctively felt your mouth scrunch up.

"She had these ugly ass glasses when she was younger. She's a beaut now" He continued.

You looked down, avoiding his eyes, afraid that he would see all the emotion on your face that you were feeling in your stomach. The bubbling anxiety that seem to get stronger and stronger with every mention of this Claire.

"I remember she used to have the biggest crush on him years ago... like-"

"I gotta catch up on some work, but uh... Carmy said he ring you when he's done" you muttered before b lining it to the office.

Richie raised his eyebrows, leaving him hanging by the lockers. He wasn't an idiot, he sensed something was going on between you and Carmy. Whatever the hell was happening, he wanted no part in it. He learned his lesson from the past of getting involved with Carmy's love interests.

You heard Fak and Marcus come back with the paint, and Sugar followed, holding lunch in a big brown paper bag for everyone.

Lunch was spread across what furniture was left up at the shop's front. It looked desolate now with a lot of the counter space removed and the signs taken down from the walls leaving rusted marks behind. Everyone was settled by leaning against the wall or counters, stuffing their faces with lunch.

"Where's Carm?" Sugar asked, holding a sandwich.

"Hospital" Richie muffled with a mouth full of bread.

"What?" Her jaw dropping slightly open thinking of the worst case scenario.

"It's okay... he just cut his hand", you showed your hand to demonstrate the wound.

"It was deep, so brought him to the hospital to get stitches" You continued.

She nodded lightly, trying to catch up on what had happened.

"He'll be okay" you gave a reassuring smile.

"Ooohh he'll be more than okay" Richie laughed.

"Claire is nursing him" He smirked at Sugar.

"Claire Claire?" Sugar asked staring at Richie on the opposite side of the room where he was sat on the counter.

"Oh yeah, forgot she worked there" Fak hummed taking another bite of his lunch

"Fuck me, bangin' body and smart, go cousin" Richie grinned cheekily.

You bite your lip hard trying to hold back from showing how agitated you were getting. It clearly wasn't working though.

Shut up Sugar mouthed to Richie before quickly glancing at you. Richie eyes flickered to you also. You felt your face heat up and looked down avoiding anyone's eyeline. Your stomach was in knots after Richie's rave about Claire. What you thought was just going to be a little bit of a rough day, was turning out to be one of the worse days.

"Thanks for the lunch Sugar. I'm gonna catch up on some work and eat in the office" You gave a fake smile to her, clutching the sandwich in your hand.

You went back to the office and closed the door wanting to be left alone for awhile. You didn't touch the sandwich, you couldn't even stomach taking a bite right now. You tried to settle yourself by taking deep breaths. It helped a little til' your heard the familiar hum of Carmy's voice in the distance. You closed your eyes and tried to block him out not wanting to hear anything that was being said about this 'Claire'.

"OOOHHH.. Here comes the devil himself, " Richie announced, seeing Carmy come through the front door.

Carmy had a puzzled look on his face not completely sure what he was coming into.

"You hungry?" Sugar asked offering the sandwich to him.

"Uhh.. yeah, thanks" He gave a quick smile before scanning the room.

"..Wait, I was 'pose to give you a ride?" Richie realized taking a swig of his can of coke.

"Y-yeah, well... Claire offered, she was on her lunch" He unwrapped his sandwich.

Richie looked over to Sugar and wagged his eyebrows repeatedly while she rolled hers.

As they pulled up on the curb, front of the building, the windows covered in newspaper. Carmy opened the door, he gave a small smile before getting out of the car.

"Carmy...." Claire's called out, making him look back, his hand still on the handle.

"I would hate to lose contact... again." She took her phone out of pocket and tapped the screen a couple of times before handing it to him.

He took it off of her to see 'New Contact' on the phone.

He paused for a moment and looked up, giving her a brief smile. For some reason, he hesitated. It was still the same Claire that he doted over years ago. The feeling he had when around her was there but...something wasn't right. When he first saw Claire, he barely recognized her. She looked so different, but her manner was the same. She was still shy, gentle, with the same kind smile.

He typed out his number fast, not looking over it before handing it back to her.

She looked down at her phone and saved the number. She brought her eyes back to him.

"Thanks for the ride", they looked at each other for a moment.

"See you later" she smiled watching him get out of the car.

Carmy leaned down and looked through the passenger window, giving a loose wave. He watched as she pulled away and drove down the street.

As they caught up while she was fixing his hand up, he couldn't stop thinking about the look on your face when Claire introduced herself. The look of confusion? Sadness? Or maybe jealousy?

The thought of you feeling jealous made him think that maybe he had read last night wrong. Maybe you wanted him but just couldn't for some reason. it didn't matter how many time he told himself to stop over analyzing the night, he couldn't. He kept thinking on what he could have done differently.

What was wrong with him? Why couldn't he just stop thinking about you. Stop wondering what you were thinking of him? He couldn't even think straight when talking to Claire.

Since yesterday, you haven't left his mind once even when he was occupied doing tasks, his mind would still be revolving around you. He was tired. He needed time to re-center himself. It wasn't healthy thinking in circles like he has been. Especially about someone who was one of his closest friends.

He walked towards the door with his newly bandaged hand. He had a feeling that he was going to get an earful from Richie about Claire. Memories from the past jolted his mind of Mikey and Richie hounding on him about bedding Claire. They would go on about how it would 'loosen' him up, whatever that meant.

For the rest of the day, both you and Carmy avoided each other. With so much going on with the restaurant, it was easy. Sugar and you were in the office dealing with registering the new restaurant and organizing the safety inspection when it came to gas line. Sugar headed home earlier, with Pete calling her about dinner being ready. You realized that no one was going to give you that call as you usually went home to a microwave meal calling your name.

"Hey I'm gonna be lockin' up ina bit" A soft voice came from the door.

Your head snapped up from the interruption.

"Uhh.. yeah. No problem. Let me just tidy up here, " you fumbled, caught off guard with him even talking to you.

Carmy fought with himself all evening, whether he should say anything to you about last night and even today. He knew he was cold towards you and felt like a piece of shit.

Fuck it

"Uhh.. s-sorry for today. Its been kinda rough and-" He said, looking with sympathetic eyes.

"Honestly, don't worry about it. You've been through enough as it is" you gave a reassuring smile and gestured to his injured hand.

He looked down at the bandage and smiled. He realized that you were there for him when he needed you. There was no hesitation on your end. He felt even more guilty about earlier now.

"How is it?" You asked bringing him back to the conversation.

"Um.. It hurts... B-but I'll live"

"Thanks for helping me... Really" He continued.

Silence came between both of you. Your eyes lingered longer than they should. His too. For one second, things seemed to be normal. A part of you wanted to hug him. You imagined yourself crashing into his chest and breathing him in. But there was a nagging feeling in the back of your mind. Your mind always wandering back to Claire.

You wanted to ask about her. You wanted to ask him how important she was to him. Was he interested in her? She clearly was interested in him. There was no doubt about that.

But all those questions were obvious, and the answers would hurt too much. You wanted to be clueless about them, but your brain was intrusive with constant thoughts about Claire.

"I'm glad I was able to help." You gave a gentle smile tapping your pen mindlessly against the desk.

After everything that has happened today, Carmy was happy to see you not completely hate him. It gave him some peace that you've recovered from how he acted the previous night.

"Well, I'll start closing up." Carmy scratched his head, turning back towards the kitchen.

You sat there with a smile spread across your face. You felt the familiar fuzziness in your chest. The feel that you could only associate Carmy with. He was the one who could you blush with just one look.

With the back door locked, you both walked around towards the front of the building where the yellow hued streetlights reflected off the newspaper covered windows.

Carmy stuffed his hands in his pockets trying to retain any heat left in his body. He glanced over at you to see the light breeze carry some of the loose strays of hair across your face. You shook your head trying to get them out of the way but failed. As cold as it was, he wanted to take his hand out and gently moved them behind your ear. He saw how your nose and ears got redder with the harsh cold surrounding them. You caught him staring but he brought his eyes down instantly, hoping that he wasn't admiring you awkwardly for too long.

These urges that he got were hard to ignore. He didn't want to think like this. As hard as he tried, his mind would always lead more than friends when it came to you.

If there was any chance of clearing the air about the past night, this was going to be it. While you both were alone and no chaos was happening around you.

"I know last night was a mess.... and I wan-"

"N-no, no, I was a dick." He stated continuing to look down at the ground.

A memory flashback through your mind of him walking out the door in a rush.

"Okay... maybe a little" a smile crept up on your face.

"Yeah," You heard a chuckle from him.

You wanted to tell him that what happened last night was nothing to do with him. You wanted to explain why you were like this. You needed to tell him how you felt. Whether he felt the same or not. You could at least put it to rest and not wonder what if. With Claire in the picture, the urge for you to put yourself out there was stronger. But also, the chances of getting hurt were higher.

"Carmy, I've never told you this... but.." You broke off trying to find the courage.

You looked over to see him looking at you. His eyes searching your face.

What the hell. Just tell him what you feel.

Before its too late.

"I've never said thank you for contacting me... for reaching out" you sighed, feeling your heart thump in your chest.

You couldn't do it. Even if last night showed you anything, maybe... even maybe he might feel the same way about you.

The edges of his lips curled up like he knew you backed out on what you were actually going to say.

"Of course, you were always on my mind, " He hummed

That surprised you. You knew he was onto bigger things after getting an offer for a new job in New York. You knew how fast the restaurant business was when it came to successful chefs. Maybe he was making it up, just to be nice. Or maybe it was true and you needed to just stop overthink everything word that came out of his mouth.

The idea of inviting him over to your place crossed your mind. You wanted to not have the last memory of him there rushing out the door slamming it on his way out. You wanted to put yourself out there and inviting him over would be the first step to do that.

There was a couple of moments of silence before you took a deep breath.

"Um.. Do you-" You started but heard a faint buzzing.

Carmy took his phone out of his pocket to see a random number pop up on his phone. He looked up at you nearly asking for permission to answer it.

You nodded, not wanting to take him away from the phone call. You watched him swipe his finger across the screen and bring his phone up to his face. He looked over to you, giving a light smile.

"Hello?" He answered.

You heard the murmuring of the other person on the end of the phone.

"Oh.. Claire, " He announced, bringing his eyes down to the ground.

Your ears perked from him calling her name out.

The feeling in your stomach dropped. She has his number. Of course she does. If they're exes she wouldn't delete it and if they're close friends then she would definitely have it. The pure disappointment you felt made you nauseous. You clenched your jaw waiting for the horrid feeling to go away, but it didn't. You felt like this phone call was going to drag on for awhile and didn't want to be tortured listening to conversation.

You gestured your thumb over your shoulder, indicating to Carmy that you were heading home. He pressed his lips together into a flat smile and nodded in acknowledgement. You gave a smile and wave, with him returning one back. You began to walk down the street hearing Carmy's voice get more and more distant.

Carmy watched you walk away and bit his lip in annoyance. He wished his phone was on silent.

"Carmy?" He heard Claire call out on the other end of the phone.

"Oh, y-yeah, sorry... did I? I didn't see the typo when I put it in" He shook his head bringing his attention back to the conversation.

"I was thinking about maybe we could meet up tomorrow night... if your free" She added.

"Uhhh.. y-yeah I should be." He responded.

He started slowly walking back to his apartment absent-mindedly continuing his conversation with Claire.

Days went by and things started getting serious. All of you realize that the place was going to need more than just a facelift. The excitement of finding the money, made Carmy and Sydney think that a lick of paint some new furnishings would make their vision come to life. That's until the ceiling collapsed on top of Richie in the form of black mold.

"This place is solid.. I swear- I swear to you on my own grave" Richie placed his hand on his chest looking over at Sugar and Sydney.

"I don't know, look at the black patches along the walls" Sydney pointed to the corner where the lockers were.

"Nah, some bleach and paint and these walls are good as new"

"Syd has a point, that ceiling looks like it about to cave in any second" Sugar commented crossing her arms looking up above Richie.

"Hold on, just look" Richie leaned over and grabbed a broom that was leaning up against the wall.

He held near the end of the broom and hit the tip of the handle to the ceiling.

"See? If it was mold, I wouldn't be able to-"

Suddenly a black cloud of dust bellows around Richie with chucks of the ceiling falling around him.

"Shit!" Syd shouted jumping back with Sugar, avoiding the clump of black mold landing where they were.

With the dust settling, Richie head hung in defeat. He was still holding the broom with the majority of him covered in black dust.

"Fuck me" He mumbled to himself.

"As you were saying Richie?" Syd chuckled with Sugar.

"Yea.. yeah whatever..." He uttered.

"Oh God... Syd I hate to break it to you but.. I think we are gonna need more than just a facelift" Sugar leans over looking up at the crumbing hole above Richie.

"You okay?" She brought her attention down to Richie who now started using the broom to swept the mess just created,

"Yea.... just covered in black shit" He huffed.

"Yeah... We are definitely gonna need more than just a facelift" Syd sucked in her lips wondering how they were going to break it to Carmy.

Later that day, the news got around about the hole in the ceiling, which lead to an emergency meeting at the shop front. You received a text from Sugar asking if you could come in even though this was your first day off since moving here. You didn't really mind as you were still setting up your apartment and resting.

You came in from the back and leaned over to see the gaping hole near where the lockers used to be before making your way to the front to see Syd, Sugar and Richie already discussing things.

"Hey" You greeted before getting hit in the face with a musky smell that was getting stronger as you walked in.

"Oh God... What the hell is that smell?" Your face morphed into disgust as you resisted the urge to breath through your nose.

"That would be Richie" Sugar nodded her head towards him.

You glanced over to see a depressed and filthy Richie on the other side of the room leaning up against the wall.

"Hey, hey I tried to get this shit off but the more I rub, the more it spreads. I needa shower" He said irritably.

"Where Carmy?" You asked surprised not seeing him yet.

"We were gonna ask you" Syd said furrowing her eyebrows.

Within that moment, the locks on the front door clicked and Carmy came walking through the door with his shoulders uptight shielding him from the frosty weather outside.

"S'up, sorry... I got caught up" Carmy closed the door behind him

"..With Claire" Richie coughed out, smirking at Carmy.

"Shut up" Carmy giving a dirty look to him.

"What's up?" He turns his attention to everyone and landed his eyes on you, giving a brief small smile.

You gave a smile back but having a depressing feeling from the image of him and Claire hanging out before this which was probably true. You wished Richie didn't say anything so you could have pretended to be oblivious.

"We have a new feature that Richie created today-"

"How the fuck did I know it was gonna come down like that"

"Richie, if I remember, did you not- and correct me Syd if I'm wrong, swear on your grave that this place is 'solid'" Sugar clapped back with air quotes.

"Fuck you- you're not the one that got cover in black sh-"

"Guys, guys c'mon" Syd tried to interrupt with Sugar and Richie yelling at each other at this point.

You looked over to Carmy to see him pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance.

"Cousin, stop" He raised his voice looking over at him.

"COUSIN, SUGAR!" He yells bringing the arguing to a halt but with Richie and Sugar giving each other death stares.

"Thank you" Carmy exhaled.

"Here's the deal, there's a massive hole in the ceiling and it doesn't matter who caused it, it's there now" Syd glanced over to both Sugar and Richie before continuing.

"The facelift that you and I talked about.. well.. it's turning more into open heart surgery at this point" Sydney explained looking over at Carmy.

"Yea, yeah... I had a feeling you were gonna say that" Carmy hummed leaning his head back staring up.

"Fuckin' shit" He said under his breath.

"I- I was doing some light research coming over here and from what I'm seeing..." You paused knowing the number you were going to say next was going to hurt.

"We're gonna need at least 400,000 dollars more" You winced and bite your lip not wanting to bring the bad news.

"Holy shit" Sugar gasped.

The place was silence to the point where you could hear a pin drop. The atmosphere was tense with everyone tired of the challenges the restaurant constantly throwing at you all.

"We're gonna have to inform the city that we have critical mold issue" You explained.

"What?" Richie called out with a puzzled face

"Yea, apparently in state of Illinois if you- hold on" You pulled out your phone and pulled up the tab you had open already.

"I quote 'if you have significant damaged caused by mold you have to notify your neighbors and IDPH" You read looking up from your phone.

"So with that, I looked up what might need to be done when it comes to the mold issue... and.. ", you put your phone in your back pocket.

"Well.. my very rough guesstimate is around 400,000 dollars.... at least" You added biting your lip.

Everyone stayed silence processing the bomb you just dropped on them when it came to changing the whole plan of the restaurant.

"Carm... I know you don't want to... but we gonna have to go to Jimmy" Sugar spoke up looking across to him.

Carmy knew they were forced into a tight corner with the condition of the property. The idea of pumping serious money into this place was becoming very real.

"Fuck... I know. He mumbled

"That's gonna be a fun conversation" Carmy inhaled rubbing his eyes with both of his hands.

The rest of the night was spent on all of you coming up with a pitch. A pitch that would somehow convince Jimmy to lend even more money with no proof that he was going to get it back. Carmy, Sugar and Richie were apprehensive with Sydney being the only positive one. But she didn't understand how awkward Jimmy can be, especially when he had something to hang over your heads like the fine total of 800,000 dollars.

"18 months? Will that be enough?" You glance over to Carmy as you all surround a scrap of cardboard that Carmy was scribbling figures over.

"It's gonna hafta be... I feel like he won't give us any longer"

"It's gonna be tight..." Richie voiced out.

"We're gonna have to hit the ground running. Pretty much booked out every week" Sugar added biting on her thumb nail.

"We'll have to open up sooner. Way sooner" You looked over to the makeshift calendar that had the timeframe of when everything was getting done across the wall. With a lot more getting added on to the to-do list and a less time to work with, a new calendar was going be to be needed.

Carmy brought his hands up behind his head extending his elbow outwards. Everyone continued to look down at the torn piece of cardboard seeing the future of the restaurant on it. The future of all the success on it. It was unnerving to see it in plain figures. Money having a chokehold on survival rate of 'The Bear'.

"Everything will be fine...." Sydney said to herself.

"...Won't we?" She glanced at everyone with her face covered in anxiety.

The room stayed silent with the sounds of city in the background.

Chapter 6

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Taglist: @wabi-sabi1090

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loveabledirtbag · 8 months

Text

1.03 - brigade

what a chill opening. we learn carmy owns a coat, AND a hat? not just a white shirt and black pants. that’s what we call character growth, gang.

it’s amazing how in episode one we see the back of mikey’s head, in episode three we hear him say “let it rip, buddy”, and when he is finally revealed later on in the season i had NO idea it was gonna be who it was (more on that later). and now every rewatch when i hear him talk, or we see the back of his head i go “how could i not realize who the actor was playing mikey before it was revealed?”

i had NO idea that was molly ringwald at al-anon for the longest time. but i saw her name in the credits and had to think hard about who it could be! it was honestly like, “well….the only character who even remotely looks kinda like her would be the woman who spoke at the al-anon meeting, but there’s no way….right???” and then i googled it. yeah. that’s molly ringwald! this show does cameos so well. joel mchale last episode, now molly ringwald. so good.

i think it’s really good writing that when carmy attends al-anon for the first time, molly ringwald (i’m sure her character has a name, but i don’t know what it is) talks about “keeping my side of the street clean”, and that inspires carmy to implement it in his own “life”, his life being the shop. however, he doesn’t have the skills, the practice, the knowledge or anything to know how to implement “keeping you side of the street clean”. so he does the best he can with what he has: kitchen systems. which to him means implementing a french brigade. i also love that in the long run doing that DOES actually help the shop, but at the end of this episode we’re kinda shown that it’s a totally shitshow flop.

“remove myself from any situation that is, or could become, toxic”…well, someone’s never worked in the service industry. and i think that’s probably the point? because to me that’s the bigger point being made in her speech, but carmy’s whole life right now is the restaurant, and the restaurant is a toxic situation, and carmy can’t remove himself from his whole life. so he chooses to focus on keeping his side of the street clean instead.

the hard cut to “remove myself from anything toxic” to what is, arguably, the most tense scene of the whole show until episode seven, is very well done. and so poignant. we go from “remove yourself from anything toxic” to jumping RIGHT INTO an extremely toxic situation: richie and sydney screaming at each other, a line out the door, people not doing their job right, the whole works.

also, i don’t want to anger any sydney stans. but i think it’s strange how many people i’ve seen saying that sydney is always perfect, and carmy is always an angry monster. because here is sydney just absolutely making the situation worse by meeting richie at his asshole level. he’s yelling at her, and she’s yelling right back. she’s actively NOT helping. in fact, carmy is the one trying to mediate, and trying to calm everyone down. i’m not trying to shit on sydney! i love sydney. but i’m pointing out that this show is very good at making everyone human. everyone is nuanced. everyone is at fault at one time or another and no one is perfect. im also not defending carmy for every instance. he makes mistakes. REPEATEDLY. but he doesn’t only make mistakes. here is a scene where carmy is trying to do it right, and sydney is at fault. obviously i haven’t even mentioned richie, but that’s because of course richie is at fault. it’s richie. the louder richie is is equal to how wrong he is in any given moment.

the man with the sysco hats orders 2 dogs with everything on them, and richie says “$5.25”…i mean, i know a dog isn’t the most expensive thing in the world, but damn. it’s not exactly a mystery why they were having money problems…i looked up a chicago style hot dog place near me and one dog is $6.25

oh damn, carmy at home, and he’s wearing a black t-shirt! so much character growth! we’re learning carmy owns other clothes!

i think it’s strange in the scene where we see carmy not able to sleep, and so he goes into the restaurant early. because manny, angel, and marcus are already there, but marcus asks “what are you doing here so early?”. that’s not necessarily the most weird thing in the world, bakers are usually the first in at a place, because dough and baking in general takes a lot of time. manny and angel could also be there early to wash dishes. typically dish washers work the hardest in a kitchen. but it is strange because this early into the shift how many dishes are there for them to do? if it’s only marcus getting his prep ready, i don’t think the shop needs to be paying for two dishwashers to wash the few dishes marcus would be making. keep in mind that the beef also only has two dishwashers when they are going through a wild and hectic dinner rush. i find it more believable that they’d need two dishwashers for a dinner rush (professional dishwashers are some of the most skilled dish cleaners you’ll ever meet. they’ll clean shit so fucking fast it’ll blow your mind) more than i believe they need two dishwashers right away in the morning when it’s just marcus prepping dough for sandwich bread. but that’s not even the weird part! marcus wonders why carmy is there early, but then sydney just happens to also be there. she’s just getting in, but she’s at the shop too and no one thinks its weird she’s there so early. and then just a few minutes later ebra is also there. if so many cooks are at the beef right away in the morning, why is it weird that carmy is there? we already know carmy is obsessed with the place and spends all his time there. and he’s also the one who is supposed to be directing everyone in their cooking, as well as helping with prep and cooking himself. so why is it strange that he’s there so early? i assume it is just the writers trying to let us the audience know that he couldn’t sleep?

i do love the sort of inspirational talk carmy and marcus have. where carmy is trying not to be triggered by thoughts of his past restaurant while looking at all the dishes he used to make, as he tells marcus stories, and as marcus is being inspired by them.

not that i’m the most knowledgeable person on cooking and kitchens, my time has been pretty limited, but TWELVE PEOPLE??? i’ve never heard of a dish that takes twelve people to make. by my best estimates with carmy explaining how to make the dish he only mentions maybe 6 people: the two chefs cooking down the plum wine. the person(s) cooking the plum consommé. which carmy says takes hours, so let’s just say it takes two shifts which means two chefs. the chef making the compressed plums. and then maybe a different chef who takes the consommé and makes it into the gelée. idk how you take six chefs and make that into twelve, but DAMN

carmy talks about these compressed plums cut into perfect squares, but there’s no square plums in the picture. which is so confusing to me. i’ve thought about this forever. i hate how much time this has taken up in my life. the plums are circular in the picture, but carmy says squares. why didn’t they write it differently? they had to have had the reference photo for the dish, right?

i like to think that the chef who cracked the plum gelée was luca from copenhagen. but as carmy tells the story we’re only getting flashbacks to his shop in new york, and we don’t have any evidence that luca worked with carmy in new york.

i’m glad that the show addressed being a woman in the kitchen. i know that being a woman in the service industry is getting better, BUT there’s still so much work and progress that needs to be made. obviously. and so we have two women in the beefs kitchen and one has learned how to be as tough as nails (tina) and the other has proved herself with talent, and is insistent that she doesn’t need any help with anything (syd).

it’s also poignant, because sydney is tiny and marcus is a giant with a golden retriever soul, and he just wants to help without even thinking of the fact that sydney is a woman. that’s obviously not an excuse, but i really believe marcus is just puppy-dogging his way forward and is just like “can i help? that thing is three feet above your head, but it’s at my eye line so i can grab it!” and sydney struggling with all her might is like “nah! i got it!” even though she clearly doesn’t got it.

the continuation of the tomato mystery!!! mikey was buying tiny little cans? even though the bigger cans are cheaper per ounce? whatta mysteryyyyyyyyyy????? (more on that later)

the short back and forth between carmy and ebra *chefs kiss*! again, ebra is criminally underused! even more so in season two (more on THAT later). but “english carmen!” “the more i understand about michael, the less i understand. rest in peace, young man” “who cares? we don’t use tomatoes anyway”. there’s nothing abundantly funny in the lines, but ebra’s delivery is just PERFECT

the conversation between carmy and sydney, specifically the conversation continually being interrupted, is just spot on. i don’t think i had a single meeting or important conversation with someone when i worked service industry that wasn’t continually interrupted by a million things. seriously, gang….management in service industry is just a fucking lot.

i think carmy’s idea makes a lot of sense, and also has some context to it. even in episode one carmy says he wants to start defining roles in the shop. i get sydney’s hesitancy because of her history in restaurants, and carmy does a bad job explaining his reasoning behind it. but if you’re dealing with a chaotic shit show, isn’t part of the answer introducing some order?

THAT BEING SAID: the moment sydney agrees to running the kitchen in this new system and carmy says let’s go is SO SHITTY. it might be one of the worst things carmy does in the whole show. reordering an entire restaurants workflow, when some of the staff have been there for DECADES, and putting the responsibility on the newest hire, and then telling her the moment she agrees that it’s gonna happen that instant and she’s going to be running the meeting where is being announced...it’s stupidity to the utmost extreme. i know carmy isn’t trying to be shitty, but FUCK dude. that is SHITTY.

“yo, carm the phone ringing” ….no shit marcus. it’s been ringing all morning, in carmy’s office. where carmy just came from. again, it’s probably a writers technique to show us that the phone ringing is something that we should have on our mind, because this shows sound design is very intentional, and it’s possible we could subconsciously think that the phone ringing is only meant to add to the chaotic sounds of the shop. but when thought of practically…carmy can probably hear the phone marcus.

once again, carmy talking about harnessing their gifts, organizing the special thing the whole team has. in my opinion he is coming from a place of respect, and love for these people (many of whom he has known for years) and wants to give them a chance that life has denied them because he knows they can rise to the occasion if given the chance. but i can also see where people could argue carmy is white-savioring, or “my fair lady”-ing, or some other toxic thing. but i do think carmy is going about this with the right intentions, and not as “i’m better than these peasants, they need my help”

what a weak pun by richie. escoffier/scoffi-gay. weak. i mean, yea, also homophobic and offensive. but what a crime to name puns. come on richie.

i wonder if it means anything that as richie makes the joke, the camera is on angel and he looks sort of annoyed and displeased at richie. we’re two seasons in without knowing much about angel, it could just be a camera cut to make the scene more interesting and dynamic, but for some reason angel is looking at richie and he doesn’t look happy

“i was in a brigade once” “what happened?” “many people died” GOD, EBRA! so funny! but also, fuck, that’s tragic dude! but then carmy’s “…o-okay, this is gonna be different”. is delivered so well. just the air of “i didn’t think i’d have to be telling people that a french cooking brigade would be different than a somalian army brigade…”

“like hierarchy!” “more like a regular chill-archy…” syd is so awkward, and this is one of those scenes where you close your eyes and groan because you wish she was anything but awkward. the writing, the acting. god, so good!

“i’m the sous, right? which means i just follow orders even if it leads to tension, and chaos and resentment and ultimately doesn’t work. but yeah, that’s what i do.” is SO GOOD. if any good person has ever been in a management position before, they KNOW that’s the eternal power struggle between owners and staff. and is also why i think the service industry desperately needs to unionize. because far, far, far too often managers have to voice something from ownership that fucks over the staff because part of their job is just to do as they are told, much like how staffs job is to follow orders from management. and it sucks! and if a good person is not careful, they follow orders and ignore their conscious and walk right off a cliff and suddenly they’re in a viral video talking to camera’s about how their staff deserve to work minimum wage without being allowed bathroom breaks for 12 hour shifts and how child labor laws are ruining this country, all because they’re just doing what the owners are saying and they forget that they’re in charge of actual human beings.

“chef de partie?” “yes” “…i accept!” GOD EBRA!!! i would die for ebra.

i love with the camerawork that from richies face we know something isn’t quite on the level with niko. we don’t know what (yet) but his face says “damnit niko, why are you calling? don’t mess this up for me and get me in trouble.” that’s added to by the subtle “i’ll hit him” from richie. he means “i’ll hit him back” as in “i’ll get back in touch with him and talk” but by cutting out the “back” it sounds a little more threatening: “i’ll hit him”, “i’ll punch him, because he’s gonna get me in trouble.”

also, it’s so beautiful and sad that carmy can’t see richie’s face. because he says that it felt like mikey was alive for a second. and richie looks like “i know exactly what you mean” but richie also looks like he’s saying “i can’t deal with that right now; because i’m barely holding on myself, so i can’t carry you too.” so richie says “no thanks” and carmy is just left to believe richie doesn’t care about him. just more assholery from richie. but we the audience know, oh, richie is broken.

i think the show does a decent job of showing anxiety and panic this season. BUT i think they go above and beyond in season two. the ringing and grabbing his heart is good, but season two really helps channel the anxiety

peep the crisp white sneakers on carmy’s feet as he walks into the church for al-anon. i know jeremy allen white is a sneaker boy, and i wonder if those shoes are just jeremy’s, or if they also wanted to give carmy some sick sneaks to go along with his denim love

quick peep at syd’s japanese knife. much like carmy’s japenese knives. i don’t know if anyone reading this knows about different countries knife philosophies and how their knives are designed to suit that philosophy (maybe philosophy is too strong a word…), but it’s interesting that carmy and sydney share a similar knife

ah, hiding in the walk-in because you need a moment to yourself to stop yourself from crying. i miss it and also don’t miss it. you know? maybe that’s ptsd? the scene is all the better because syd goes into the walk-in talking to the team with the most empty cadence a person can have. she’s saying what she’s supposed to be saying but she doesn’t believe a word of it herself. which also means the team doesn’t believe a word she says

ok. there’s very few good things to say about tina up to this point, which is probably why i haven’t talked about her much. but the fact that she clearly has so much beef with syd, but still she goes into shop-mom mode the moment sydney gets a cut. i just love it. every shop has a shop-mom and every shop needs a shop mom. tina is one of my favorite characters, of all time, and her journey is so well done this season.

and of course sydney doesn’t help anything by getting defensive and once again trying to prove how good and tough she is, instead of just accepting the care and help she needs.

and….of coooourse tina goes from trying to help sydney to then immediately turning the heat up on her stock and sabotaging her. because tina might be the shop mom, but sydney is annoying her, and trying to change everything, and so shop mom goes mama bear on her and fucks with her.

sloppiest “assumed” drug deal ever between richie and niko. like they’re looking around and trying not to get caught and somehow they miss that carmy is RIGHT THERE

here again with syd’s burnt stock, carmy is a little bit of an asshole. obviously we think he’s being more of an asshole than he is, because we know sydney is having a hard time being the sous in the shop with everyone against her, but carmy doesn’t. to carmy, he put the only highly skilled chef in charge while he left, and he gets back and no one is doing what they should AND sydney is (seemingly) making rookie mistakes which she should know better than to make. so he does get a little angry at her, and even from his prospective he could have been less intense, BUT from his view it’s like “how did you mess this up? this is cooking 101”.

again too, when sydney’s trying to explain that tina should be on onions, but tina’s on lemons and carmy just wants her to say “yes, chef” and do the onions…i have mixed feelings on. because, once again, we the audience know that carmy is being an asshole and not helping sydney’s already shitty day. but carmy doesn’t know about sydney’s shitty day (which is also his fault), and to his credit sydney trying to explain that she has tried to get tina to what she’s been told and tina isn’t listening sounds a lot more like whining than explaining. there are times and places, and right after being scolded for burning your stock is not the time to try and explain that the real problem is actually not you, but tina. is carmy ultimately way in the wrong? yeah! but he’s asking syd to say “yes” and in the moment she should have just said “yes”. your bosses makes mistakes, and when they’re telling you something, it’s not the best time to show that they’re wrong and you’re right. sometimes you just gotta say yes, and hate them in your head. and if they’re a good boss (like carmy is) you then go and talk to them when things are calmer. they have that moment later in the episode when things are calmer.

i’m not trying to say that people just have to put up with angry shit from their bosses…but in a moment of stress, ESPECIALLY when you’re in the service industry, sometimes you just gotta nod your head, take whatever they say, and curse them in your head. because in a heated and hectic moment in a shop, you’re not gonna convince them of the nuanced issues going on. that has to come later when things calm down and they have a clear head.

knowing that the hands that are prepping the food are actually syd’s and carmy’s hands (i know the actors have names, i’m sticking with syd and carmy) never ceases to amaze me. especially in the scene where syd preps the onions, because you can really tell she got skilled at it. with carmy they cut back and forth and so they can make us think he’s moving faster than he is, but they had a long shot of sydney just cutting, and she was zooming through. (the gif below is carmy because i was struggling to find a gif of syd cutting)

i always wanna know why the suqaar isn’t good? like, it’s so bad that sydney is near revolted. because ebra says it with such pride and confidence, carmy seems excited by it. but then when sydney tries it she’s so disgusted. was it actually that bad? or was sydney just in such a bad place that nothing could taste good?

those lowboys are SO gross. i have nothing else to say, really. just real bad.

it’s rather unprofessional that when “someone” took sydney’s onions she bursts out of the kitchen to the front of house, WHILE richie is hanging out and talking to a customer, to yell at him asking where her onions are. richie is working. obviously hanging out with customers might not seem much like working, but that’s front of house (FOH) shit right there. and to yell in front of a customer (which she and richie have been doing a lot in this episode) is just unprofessional from someone trained in the way of fine dining.

the small detail of syd having her overwhelmingly bad day, and when she goes into carmy’s office he’s just sitting there, and then the first thing he says is “we should be outsourcing bread”, which was 1) in her 30 page packet last episode, and 2) talked about just a few hours ago in the team meeting carmy skipped out on. it would be beyond frustrating. and we know that carmy is actually working, like, the guy stays late to hand scrub the floor, so he’s really working. but it just looks like he’s chilling while syd is running around, and that doesn’t help her boiling rage and panic.

the most painful thing is the world is sydney yelling at marcus about him offering to help her with something again, to the point that her hand is shaking and her eyes are bulging…and then he leaves and she dumps it all over herself. i’ve never been a woman in a male dominated workspace, but i have been someone who really wants to prove themself, and to then have it blow up in my face, especially if it LITERALLY blows up in my face like it does to syd, and the added shame of knowing you wasted a bunch of money (veal fat isn’t free), is stay-awake-at-night-reliving-that-moment kind of painful.

but, it’s also so sweet, and so relatable of marcus to come in after hearing the spill, to sydney standing there covered in her own mistake, and to wordlessly leave and come back with towels and help her. everyone in the world needs a marcus.

that first inkling of seeing HUGE payments to KBL electric! my brain was just like “oh shit, mikey was laundering HARD”

i love the scene where marcus tells syd that family dinner is ready, when syd walks out of frame we stay for just a moment on tina. tina cleaning her station. because to me i think it’s easy to assume, well, she obviously has to clean her station at some point while working, so it’s now. but after having a few back and forth moments with syd in the episode, where syd specifically asked her to clean up, i think it means something that tina is finally cleaning up. and knowing the arc she goes through in the next episode, i think this is like a seed being planted showing us that even tina is slowly being changed by the new system that carmy and syd are implementing in the beef.

i know that this is like the tiniest detail, that has also been talked about SO MUCH by people in the restaurant industry. but carmy drinking out of a plastic container hits to good every time i see it. i’m 29, i haven’t worked in food-food in like 8 years, and i still love using those containers as water glasses. THEY HOLD SO MUCH, plus you get them for free if you order pho from my favorite restaurant (and most restaurants where you’re ordering soup to go) so it’s like an added treat with my pho.

i do think it’s important that carmy can tell something is wrong with syd. only because he’s been so single minded for three whole episodes. missing cues from the people around him about the pain they’re in. i know there’s a lot of discourse on here about if the relationship between syd and carm is moving towards romantic, or showing the depths of a truly deep and trusting friendship/business partnership, either way i don’t care if the writing and performances are good. but it’s important to note that this is the first time carmy has looked outside of himself/the restaurant at someone else and noticed them for real. he went to find syd, and upon seeing her body language asked her what was wrong. obviously, most of what was wrong is because of him, but he still tried to make it better and showed that he’s the kind of boss who actually cares and is trying to create the best working environment for his staff as possible. he’s just human and struggles at doing it.

i’ve read a few people say it’s shitty that carmy admits to being harder on sydney than everyone else in the shop, but i really don’t think so. no one else has gone to school for cooking. no one else but syd can comprehend most of what carmy says or even understand his vision for the place. syd has been at the beef for a few days/weeks/maybe a month or so? and she’s now the number two over people who have been there for decades. so i don’t think it’s outrageous that carmy holds sydney to a higher standard. or is more upset when she sinks to richie’s level to yell at him, or when she isn’t able to properly make a stock. once again, i’m not trying to excuse carmy’s bad behavior, but my first day in a kitchen i was treated with baby gloves, but when i was a supervisor, and in charge of training people in, i would never hear the end if i messed up something simple. because i knew better, and carmy knows that sydney knows better.

i think it’s worth noting that sydney says “i think this place could be so different than the other places we’ve been at.” she says “we’ve been at”. not “i’ve been at.” she’s assuming, and assuming correctly, that carmy has also been in some terrible kitchens. and she’s assuming, and assuming correctly, that carmy is also really tired of it

i think it’s probably only really tv magic that we’re in episode three and sydney feels comfortable to tell carmy that she wants to partner with him in making the beef better, but that he also has to listen to her ideas. that’s a lot of trust in the emotional maturity and headspace of a boss that you haven’t really had any previous emotional connection with. like we haven’t really seen her and carmy connect or have a mutual understanding of the other. we haven’t seen him give syd a reason to think that he wants her to partner with him in improving the beef, or that he’s all that interested in listening to her ideas. HOWEVER this scene works because we know carmy so well already, and we know syd really well, and their chemistry sells it. so she basically says she wants to talk freely with her boss and be heard and listened to and instead of him shutting her down like 90% of bosses would do, he says “you’re absolutely right, and i agree.”

and for her leap of faith, we see carmy open up to her! carmy opened up! he’s trying to work through his gunk! it’s so good!

FUCK BRUNCH

ok. i love brunch. but i hated working brunch. it’s the worst shift in the world.

the scene where carmy comes out of the beef on a break, cigarette hanging from his lip, his hair a particular kind of wild, to listen to sugar’s voicemail…that is the vibe and look i have wanted to replicate from the moment i saw him, and i have no idea how to show the person who cuts my hair because the look is just “sweat and grease” and that’s a hard ask in a salon chair.

i like the flow of learning its michael’s birthday, with us returning to the beach with carmy. because it makes the fact that carmy heard mikey say “let it rip, dude” more powerful. carmy is thinking of mikey on his birthday, carmy’s been thinking of mikey all day, and it’s been nagging at him and weighing on him and everything he has said and done has been because today hurts worse than most other days have.

the question then becomes: timeline-wise, is carmy at the beach the same scene that started the show? we know that only a day has passed, did carmy wake up and go to the beach, and then after work go to the beach again? i’m sure someone with more attention to detail could tell me if the sun is in the same position in both scenes, or if the sun is on the opposite side of the sky in one from the other. but it mirrors the opening so much that it kinda feels like we opened on either the beginning of the day, or the end of the day, and now we’re closing on that same visit to the beach, to remind us of that trip and to put the day into a greater context with mikey’s birthday. if i had to bet, i would bet that both scenes happen at sunrise, because we have a shot of the shop while the dinner rush is happening and it’s dark outside. like past sunset dark. we know they close late, like 10/11pm late. which is far after sunset. so if carmy is walking outside while there is a sliver of light, it’s probably sunrise.

UFFDA, i love this episode. i feel like it slowed way down (except for that one scene during a lunch rush), and amped up both the emotional ante, and the comedy. the next episode to me is like a mid-season finale, because it wraps up some major themes and storylines and opens up some new ones, but we’ll talk more about that in episode four!

#the bear #the bear fx #the bear hulu #marcus the bear #sydney the bear #the bear tv #tina the bear #the bear review #the bear series #carmy the bear #richie the bear #liveblog #live-blogging #the bear episode three #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto

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gifted-burnout-archive · 3 years

Text

Mistletoe and Wine

Word Count: 3.1K+

Author’s Note: So I have had this idea for literal months, one that I really wanted to write but never quite knew how to. So here it is! We started with fluff, we move on to angst, and there will be smut further down the line. Inspired a fair amount by the songs ‘Remeber that Night?’ by Sara Keys and ‘To Love Someone Else’ by Avery Lynch. Plus, Bobby deserves some fanfiction! Also, I know these are kinda short but I thought it would work best so don’t hate me pleaseeee.

Pairings: bobby/trevor wilson x reader - platonic!reggie and alex x reader - former luke x reader

Warnings: discussion of death, general angst, upsetting circumstances.

1999.

Bad habits are a hard thing to break. Doing something over and over, getting used to the action of it, deciding to take that thing out of your life entirely is a conscious and difficult decision. It’s why people fall back into bad relationships, or start smoking again, or pick up that extra tub of ice cream: breaking that habit when it didn’t feel so bad in the first place is hard. People like familiarity, people like to be comfortable, people like to be docile in their own lives.

Well, some people do.

But there is a flip side: when good habits are broken by external factors, they can be hard to retrieve, replaced by bad ones instead over overcome. The external factor varies, of course: moving to a new house can stop someone from exercising; a change of job can ruin a healthy sleep schedule; anxiety over test can stop someone eating.

The lost of a loved one can cause someone to cut of friends, family, places: everything and everyone that held them together.

It was Y/N’s first time back in Los Angeles since it happened.

The incident she never found the courage to speak about: that prompted her to pack her things and move to the other side of the country and live with her grandparents until she finished at college. The incident that forced her to make friends with strangers, to go to church every Sunday to keep good faith despite not even being Christian: and yet she had still arrived back where it started, standing on her parents’ porch, looking down towards the garage she hadn’t seen in years.

“You changed your hair.”

“You got famous…”

The young man walking up the driveway dressed how Y/N expected him to: gone were his hand-me-down too-baggy jeans and the black and white striped top he never seemed to take off, the leather vest jacket he had glued spikes onto the shoulders of. He had replaced it with suede shoes and a leopard print shirt, a hat perched atop his mess of hair like he was still in the southern hemisphere, not LA at Christmas.

“I brought wine. Old stuff, good stuff.” He said with a grin she couldn’t help but smile back to, though it was only ever so slightly. He suited his new look; he exuded an air of confidence that matched the person she had known four years and a half years before.

“Why are you here, Bobby?” Y/N finally asked, finally looked to her old friend, pulling out a cigarette case from her pocket, then a lighter, sitting a stick between her lips and lighting her face with the orange flame from the zippo. “Last I checked,” She said through the cigarette, inhaling before blowing out a stream of smoke. “You were in Sydney, on the big world tour.”

“I go by Trevor now, you know.” The young man corrected her, making his way along the driveway and bouncing up the porch steps, resting himself against the wooden railing beside her. When she offered the cigarette, he accepted, passing it back as wisps of smoke blew from his nose. “Your parents called me; said you were in town again…” He let out a sigh, looking over at the girl he knew, her face lit by the Christmas lights the family had wrangled onto the front lawn’s bushes. “Do you really not want me here?”

“Of course I do.” Y/N replied, her eyes drifting back towards the garage. “I just… I don’t know if I can even go close to it anymore.” Her voice was barely a whisper, her body tense until bobby’s arm came over her shoulders and pulled her close, the taller boy hugging her from behind. They stayed that way for a few minutes, swaying a little when the breeze demanded it, sharing the cigarette and another in mutual silence, all while her parents let Cliff Richards play in the kitchen beyond the front door.

“We said we’d all spend this Christmas in that garage, no matter what happened, remember?” Bobby reminded Y/N of the reason she had even travelled back home in the first place: to fulfil a promise she had made to her friends all those years ago. “1994, we were all 17… We made the promise to one another to spend Christmas together five years from then.”

“They didn’t keep their half of the promise, Bobby.”

“How do you know?” He asked, pressing a kiss to the top of her head before breaking their embrace, turning Y/N so they stood side by side, his arm coming over her shoulder as she smoked the last of the cigarette, his other hand still holding the rather pricey bottle of red an assistant had recommended before he got on the plane. “We do this together… I have a feeling they may just be waiting for us there…”

Bobby’s words, and his height, weight and strength advantages, caused Y/N to let herself be dragged down her old driveway in defeat, shuffling in a pair of old house shoes her mom used to wear, the rest of her still dressed up in the more fanciful attire she had picked out for brunch with her mother that morning. His hand squeezed her shoulder, a comfort despite their years apart.

It was nice to know they were still friends after everything...

Bobby only let her go to open up the heavy garage door, handing the bottle of wine over to her before doing so, the wood creaking and groaning after years of disuse. Y/N screed the cap off the wine, taking a swig as she watched on, and attempt to calm her heart perhaps; it seemed to be racing a thousand miles a minute and faster with every inch wider the entrance to her garage got.

“Bobby-”

“Too late… It’s open.” Bobby cut in, the door wide enough for him to slip inside and flick on the light switch, the dim glow sparking Y/N’s curiosity as she followed him into long lost memories.

The room was almost exactly how the guys had left it those years before: blankets strewn over the couch; instruments sat, set up for the next band practise. The only difference seemed to be the excessive amount of dust that covered the furniture, and the deflated air mattress on the far side of the room. But there it was: under the flickering solo lightbulb, with air so thick it had Y/N taking another gulp of booze to wet her throat, the old studio.

“It feels like we’re 17 again, doesn’t it?” She managed to whisper, noticing Bobby in a similar state of awe from out the corner of her eye, him being the first to take a step further into the room, and another. She watched him walk through the furniture, the instruments: all the memories they had made in that little shack at the end of her driveway.

Y/N could see it all too, like a movie being played before her eyes. She saw the boys practicing until the early hours, constantly full of energy and life and adrenaline, no matter her parents’ half-hearted nags for them to abide by quiet hours. She could see nights of song writing on her family’s old patio furniture, takeout ordered in from the Chinese place two streets over. There was a constant sense of joy, of pure unfiltered happiness that came from their music, from the months they spent perfecting their first album and hustling for that fucking gig at the Orpheum.

In an instant Y/N’s subconscious smile turned to a frown. All the happiness was overshadowed by the weeks after; of nights spent sobbing into her pillow, of the three funerals they held within a week, of Bobby leaving when they needed each other most.

“Hey, hey.” Bobby’s worried words brought Y/N back from the daydream, his hands cupping her face as his thumbs swiped across her cheeks, collecting the tears she hadn’t noticed falling. “Are you alright, love?” He asked gently, lifting Y/N’s chin for their eyes to meet.

“I shouldn’t have come home… I should have stayed in Chicago at my job and worked through the holidays.” Y/N said quickly, through shallow breaths, her vision blurring. “I didn’t want to do this but I told myself I should. I didn’t want to do this again; I didn’t want to be here again…”

“Y/N…” Bobby pulled her into a hug, one hand holding her head, the other around her back, opting to rock back and forth slowly, gently, a trick he had learned when they were younger. The other guys never quite knew how to deal with someone crying, let alone a girl, and let alone Y/N. But Bobby did.

It wasn’t every year you changed decade, century and millennium, and Y/N and Bobby decided to call in the 2000s together.

They had been together since Christmas Eve, inseparable really. Bobby opted to stay in LA instead of head for the ball drop in New York, and he felt good about that choice: it meant more time with Y/N, to reconnect, to catch up on the lost years when he was touring the world and Y/N was getting her degree.

Her parents liked it, watching the pair laughing again at Christmas Dinner: it felt like the first time Y/N had laughed since it happened. They didn’t get in the pair’s way when they chose to clean up the garage, spending most of the limbo between Christmas and New Year dusting and vacuuming the shack at the end of the driveway, restoring it to something beyond its former glory.

They strung up lights, washed down the windows and added houseplants, and Bobby took on the heart-breaking job of tidying away the instruments that lay strewn around while Y/N focused on carpet cleaning, on high reach dusting, on anything but the still looming presence of the friends they had lost.

By New Year’s Eve, as Y/N’s parents informed the pair they were headed to their friends’ party, the garage was readied for a night of the two friends drinking: bottles of champagne had been bought, an old antenna tv had been set up to watch the countdown that would take place by the end of the hour. They both dressed up, Bobby in a suit, Y/N in a dress. She did her makeup, he polished his shoes, they styled their hair.

They deserved to have fun, to have something good again.

“And welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the 2000 Countdown! We are five minutes out, and the party is well underway!” The grainy picture on the tv spoke through crackles as Y/N and Bobby lounged on the couch watching, a champagne flute in each of their hands.

“It’s your turn to fix it.” Y/N smirked, gesturing to the television with glass in hand, the sudden gesture causing the liquid within to splash against her hand. “Oops!” She squeaked, the pair sharing a glance before bursting into giggles, both taking another sip of the alcohol. They had been drinking since the afternoon, and as midnight came ever closer the pair became extremely inebriated. It was for different reasons, of course: it was more than just to have fun and get drunk, they were both fighting the urge to run, to shut up the garage and never come back to it.

“Only because you look so darn cute in that dress, alright?” Bobby smiled with his words, pushing himself off the old couch and setting down his drink to fix the antenna. His eyes as he moved the metal rod were on Y/N, watching her reactions to the screen’s picture, stopping when her eyes widened and she smiled wide. “Got it?”

“I love this song!” Y/N exclaimed once the sound came back, some band Bobby hadn’t heard of playing for that particular news channel’s New Year Bash, the only channel they had managed to find after a solid 70 minutes of searching earlier that night. She jumped from her chair, putting her own drink, the slow beat and sweet melody not assisted by the terrible sound quality on the box, but good enough for her to offer a hand to Bobby.

“You know, if you’re not careful I’ll sweep you off your feet.” Bobby teased as one hand landed on her waist, the other taking her hand in his as her second held his shoulder.

They didn’t do much dancing, more swaying to the song as Y/N sang along with the lyrics, her head pressed to his chest, his senses overcome with the scent of her shampoo. He pressed his lips to the top of her head, their eyes closed, they stayed like that through that song and the next. Just holding one another, just being there, the way they wanted to be.

“10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5…” The tv counted them down, Bobby moving a half inch back and letting go of Y/N’s hand to lift her chin. Their eyes met. “4, 3,2 ,1.”

Their lips colliding with the announcement of the New Year was soft, and desperate and sweet. Y/N’s lips were soft against Bobby’s, the heat of his body radiated and blocked out the chills of the cold LA night. His hands came to her cheeks, cupping them as the kiss heated up, the pair stumbling back and into the heavy doors. She kissed him back for a moment, allowing herself the chance to have fun, to feel something other than grief.

But it was short lived.

“Bobby-”

“I’ve been waiting years to do that… I even brought along mistletoe on Christmas. I chickened out, of course but-”

“Bobby.” Y/N said again, louder that time, stopping the man in front of her in his excited rambling. He looked in her eyes, his smile fading when he saw her frown.

“Why not?” He asked before she had a chance to refuse him: he had expected something like it happening as a worst case, of course he had… But this wasn’t meant to happen. “We’re good together, aren’t we? Hasn’t the last week proved that?”

“I’m saying no, Bobby. Can’t you just leave it at that?” Y/N found herself snapping at him, moving from his hold and towards the centre of the room again, downing her champagne glass in one go.

“What did I do wrong? Whatever it is I’ll fix it, Y/N.” Bobby’s words were sincere, a promise to amend anything she asked of him, but her face stayed deadpan as her hands switched from the glass to drinking straight from the bottle.

“Nothing.”

“Then why don’t we give this a shot?!” Bobby demanded, the short fuse on his temper gone. Y/N wasn’t shocked by it, in fact she was angry at herself just as much as Bobby was. “Because I don’t understand how we’ve gone by years and years of grieving and we can’t choose to be happy now! I don’t get why I’ve been in love with you since we were seventeen and you won’t even give us a fucking trial run or something, Y/N!”

“Because of him!”

“Because of who?”

“Luke!”

Silence hung heavy in the air, nearly suffocating the pair as they faced off, Bobby stood by the doors and Y/N stood by the booze. The moment the name left her mouth, tears slipped over, running down her cheeks and ruining the makeup she had worked so hard on earlier that evening.

“Luke?” Bobby asked, his expression clearly one of astonishment as he processed the information. He walked over, until they stood at dancing distance again, and wiped away a tear from her cheek. “I didn’t know…”

“We were dating. Four months.” She confessed with a shaky breath, the relief lifting the dead weight from her shoulders. “We didn’t want to say anything: he and Alex had just finished; I didn’t want to ruin the friendships over something so little…” She paused, stepping back from Bobby. “I didn’t want to come here. I never wanted to come back home, because I knew he’d be here. They’re all here, just watching on, knowing how much I screwed up my life after they went… Bobby, I…”

“Y/N.”

“Don’t fucking pity me!” She snapped again, the raising of her voice causing Bobby to back up, to take a seat on the couch as she began to pace. “He just left. Everything with the Orpheum gig meant we didn’t say goodbye that morning, when you all headed out. It was so instantaneous, so easy… He was just gone. I loved him and he just left, and I’ve been trying to pick up the pieces since and every time I get close I drop the all again, and they scatter, and I have to start all over.” She explained through tears and quick steps, stopping only to gauge his reaction and frown. “Don’t look at me like that. God, I hate when you look at me like that.”

“Like what?” Bobby asked, defensive, having done his best to just listen to what she had to say.

“Like I’m 17 again and attending funerals every other day!” Y/N yelled. “Like you need to fix me!”

“What if I can though?” Bobby suggested, standing up from the couch. “What if we fix each other here? You didn’t go through that alone, Y/N.”

“Maybe I don’t want to be fixed, Bobby.” She stated decidedly, eyes cold as she fumbled for her cigarette case from her dress pocket.

“You’d rather mop over someone who died five years ago than be with me?” The words were ones of hurt, of disbelief, of anger and sadness and something else Y/N didn’t want to discover. Tears stung her eyes.

“I’m not saying that I-”

“He wasn’t some fucking saint!” Bobby yelled, cutting her off in an attempt to make her see sense. “Y/N! You’ve clearly got some image, some fantasy in your head about Patterson that differs from fucking reality!” He reminded her of their dead friend’s faults quite happily, and Y/N slammed down the champagne bottle.

“You’re one to fucking talk!” She countered. “It’s a shame that only I know you stole his entire fucking song catalogue!”

He didn’t know how to respond to that. It was true, after all. He had reasoned that letting the music go unheard was stupid, selfish even, when he had the means and talent to release it to the world. He had told himself it was good, what he was doing, and for a moment he pondered if it was a mistake.

“To think I gave up New Year’s in New York for this shit…” He muttered, watching Y/N light a cigarette with shaky hands. He ran his own through his hair, taking a heavy sigh as Y/N processed his words.

“Get out.”

“Gladly.”

“And don’t ever contact me again, Trevor.” She added, the smoke trailing from her lips as he marched out. Leaving her alone in her memories, without friends or hope for any sort of future.

Alone on New Year’s, with bad habits she couldn’t break and haunted memories of a life she might have had.

Tags (same as last time ish because i am lazy... oops.): @reggiesleatherjacket @parkeret @calamitykaty @crybabyddl @delicatelukepatterson @lukespatterson @kcd15 @siennanoelle01 @eries45 @lolychu @lazydaisy19 @reggieandthereggies @writerinlearning @mjflower @uhmitstori @walkingonshunshine @kristencoontz @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic @ritz-hell-hotel @mishappend @dovegranger @dmcfarland1 @cherrymaybank @oswinsleaf @only-here-for-jatp @jatpfan99 @n0wornever @bookdealer5 @epikskool @thesweetestsinner @fangirlangioma @moviesbooksandfandoms @ohyoureaqueenbutuncrowned @saroo-hawks @charliessunset @bigdesi @avngrsinitiative @emotionalbruv @korydickson @uglypeachh @rogersangel @independentgirl @mon-charmante @writingforphantoms @musicconversedance @heimdoodle @-episkey- @obxmermaid @sunsetcurvenotsunsetswerve @simp4madi @aliciameix @kinda-just-chillin-here @blueyed-one @ghostlyb1tch @leahstypewriter

what comes next? wait and see

#abby's twelve days of christmas #bobby wilson x reader #jatp bobby x reader #luke patterson x reader #jatp luke x reader #julie and the phantoms #jatp #jatp alex #jatp reggie #alex mercer #reggie peters #angst

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toplinetommy · 4 years

Text

You Bring the Moon and Stars to Me (Part Three) - Tyson Jost

Synopsis: A Soulmate!AU where your soulmark only appears once you fall in love with your soulmate

Words: 5.8k

Warnings: Underage casual drinking (Tyson is almost 20 in the first part so it kind of counts)

Part One | Part Two

February 2018 - Denver, CO

“So, have you and Tyson been hanging out a lot?” Caityln asks from where she’s sitting on the opposite side of her couch.

“Kind of. We FaceTime a lot because our schedules don’t match up a lot.” You answer. “We get food or cook a lot together and he’ll invite me over just to hang out with him and JT and Kerfy.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed your car over there more often than before.” She smirks. You roll your eyes at her love of snooping. “I still think it’s crazy that he lives across the street from me.”

“Honestly, same,” You agree. “Speaking of the Rookie House, I probably won’t be over there for a while. Tyson was telling me that their Mentor’s Trip is coming up at the end of this week, so everyone has people visiting them.”

Caityln looks confused as you speak, so you explain further. “The Avs have the dads and stuff come out for a few days to watch their kids play and get to spend some time with them. Tyson said his grandpa is coming down.” You smile. You thought of the way your friend’s face would light up every time he had mentioned his Grandpa Jim.

“Aw, that sounds like so much fun!” Caitlyn exclaims. Suddenly, your phone starts vibrating on the coffee table in front of you, pulling you from your conversation with her. Tyson’s face fills the screen as you pull your phone to your ear.

“Hey, I just saw your car. Come over real quick.” Tyson greets you, foregoing his usual ‘hey’.

“Uhhh, okay,” You stammer, “Let me put shoes and a coat on and I’ll walk over.” You hang up the rather short phone call and stand from the couch to head to the entryway of Caitlyn’s home.

“I’ll be right back, Tyson wants me to go over there for a minute.” You tell your friend as you pull your Doc’s on. She nods at you, not looking up from her phone before you slip out into the cold, nippy Denver air.

You walk up the front steps of the Avs rookie house before you knock on the large front door. Tyson swings It open, moving to the side letting you in.

“Why do you even knock still?” He questions.

“I was raised to knock, and besides, you don’t live alone. I don’t know what I could be walking into.” You reason with him, to which he nods his head in understanding. “Anyways, what was so urgent that you made me come over here for.”

“JT got his soulmark over the weekend!” Tyson exclaims. “Also, Grandpa Jim is here!” He points to the man sitting on the living room couch, not noticing him prior to his gesture. The man, now with the title of Tyson’s grandpa attached, stands up and walks over to the two of you.

You smile at him before sneaking a stern look towards your best friend.

“This is y/n! She’s the one that went to UND with me.” Tyson introduces you. You stick your hand out with the intention to shake Grandpa Jim’s hand, but he ignores the gesture and instead opens his arms to hug you.

“You’re the best friend Tys is always calling me and his mom about then, eh?” He says, pulling away. He takes his eyes off you and looks towards his grandson, which you’re happy about now that you feel your cheeks heating up.

Tyson groans next to the both of you, “Grandpa you can’t just say stuff like that.” Grandpa Jim laughs, not too sure why that’s even a big deal.

He turns back to you, “Y/n, are you coming to Tysons game tomorrow?”

“I wasn’t planning to, I don’t really go to too many games.” You answer.

“Well let’s change that! Tyson can get you tickets, right?” He asks, looking back at Tyson for an answer.

“Yeah, I can. I can get you two so you can bring Caitlyn if you’d like.” He suggests, fishing in his pocket to pull out his phone. He’s tapping away at the screen when you interrupt him.

“Tyson, I’d be more than happy than happy to get them myself, I promise.” You say. You had previously expressed to him that both you and Caitlyn were more than compatible to spend money on your own tickets, to which he constantly responded with ‘then what’s the point of having me as a best friend’. “Just this one time, eh?” He suggests. “It’s a special occasion with Grandpa Jim and all the dads being here.”

You contemplate the proposition before giving in, “I have to make sure Caitlyn can come still.” Tyson nods his head in understanding. A large smile filling his face and his eyes glimmer in the setting sunlight from the windows.

“I’d normally say we can go to dinner afterwards or something but I think the guys are doing a big team dinner after the game.” Tyson mentions. You nod your head, trying to think of an alternative thing all three of you can do.

“Let’s just do something tonight and I can just drive you all to the airport Saturday morning?” You suggest. You knew that they would be traveling to Chicago that morning from your previous conversation with Tyson when he first told you all about the Mentor's Trip and his plans for the week. “Also, let’s circle back. JT got his soulmark? It’s that Sydney girl right? Is he here?”

Tyson laughs at your rambling before shouting for JT to come to the living room through the house. You hear his heavy footsteps and he greets you with a ‘hey’ and a small head nod.

“When do I get to meet this Sydney now that she’s officially your soulmate?” You ask, a smirk playing at your lips. His eyes light up and a smile appears on his face at the topic,

“You can’t keep your mouth shut, huh?” JT chirps his roommate.

“Technically I used it as bait to get her to come over here because I know she wouldn’t have come if I told her she was meeting my Grandpa.”

You smack Tyson’s chest as your jaw drops at his confession. He lets out a quiet ‘oops’ before speaking again, “Well you’re here now.”

“She’s coming during her spring break which is next week so you can meet her then.” JT offers up. You nod, making a mental note to make at least introduce yourself to her.

“Can I see your soulmark?” You ask, moving close to the tall ginger. He nods his head and shows you his ankle where you could make out a small outline of a wolf. “Does it have any meaning?”

“Yeah, we met at college and the mascot is a wolverine there.” He answers. Your heart swoons at his answer, feeling excited for your friend. You stand up from where you were slightly bent over before looking over at Tyson.

“I really can’t stay that long, Caitlyn and I had plans.” You say more to Tyson than to anyone else in the living room.

“Just stay for one drink.” Grandpa Jim suggests. You don’t see the harm in it, so you agree and send a text to Caitlyn letting her know you’ll be a little bit.

“I got that bottle of wine you suggested to me last week if you want a glass of that.” Tyson recommends as the three of you make your way to the kitchen.

“You found it?” You exclaim. “I haven’t been able to find it since I first tried it a few weeks ago.” As you finish talking, the two of you move in harmony as he grabs the bottle of wine from the wine cooler located underneath the island and you go to where the wine opener and wine glasses are located - both of which you urged the three rookies to purchase. You meet Tyson at the island where his grandpa is now sitting, handing him the wine opener for him to use as he pours the three of you a glass.

Tyson moves to sit next to his Grandpa on the other side of the island while you opt to continue standing, leaning on the countertop in front of you.

“I’m your best friend, huh?” You ask Tyson, referring back to your first conversation with Grandpa Jim.

Tyson rolls his eyes, taking a quick sip of his wine before speaking. “Don’t act all high and mighty. You’re my best friend and I’m yours, that’s how this relationship works.”

You can’t argue with him, fully knowing that Tyson had suddenly become your go-to for almost anything nowadays. You take another small sip of your wine, setting the glass back onto the island table top in front of you, pondering the amount of time you’ve spent in the Rookie House lately.

“Have you played the ukulele for her yet?” Grandpa Jim says interrupting your thoughts. He’s looking at Tyson but pointing his free hand towards you. Tyson’s face drops into another groan as he sets his wine glass down hastily.

“What?” You exclaim with your jaw slightly dropped.

“I got him a ukulele for Christmas.”

“Why am I just now finding this out?” You question eyeballing Tyson’s reddening face.

“Because I barely know what I’m doing,” Tyson laughs in an effort to shrug it off.

“Wait,” You interrupt. “That ukulele you have sitting on your bedroom dresser isn’t just for decoration? Like, you actually play it?”

“Kinda,” Tyson repeats his earlier statement in hope this topic of conversation will die down and that the three of you could talk about anything else.

“Oh, c’mon, Tys, you’re good at it.” Grandpa Jim complemented, giving a slight nudge to Tyson’s shoulder with his own. “Go get it and we can play a song for y/n!”

Tyson, knowing he was going to lose this battle with his Grandpa, gets up from his barstool. “I’ll be right back,” He utters, before disappearing down the stairs to his room. He reappeared a moment later, ukulele grasped in his hand. A hand you hadn’t really noticed was all that big until you saw it dwarf the neck of the instrument. You pushed the unfamiliar warm feeling down at the thought and crossed your arms over your chest.

“I only know the one song.” Tyson starts, directing his assertion more towards his Grandpa than you. He strums lightly at the instrument and you can see the wheels turning in his head as he tries to concentrate. His face twists in concentration as his tongue pokes out of his mouth, a gesture you’ve always smiled to yourself at.

His fingers pick up pace and he starts to strum a familiar beat before you realize he’s playing Riptide by Vance Joy. The already small smile on your face widens as you see his concentrated face turn into a smiling one. His head starts bopping along to the beat and you look to his Grandpa, his head also bopping in synchronization with his grandson’s.

He plays through most of the song before the familiar beat fases away and he seems to just be strumming away at the strings. He tilts his head up to the both of you, “That’s all I really know.”

“That was so good!” You compliment. You move your arms from where they were crossed around your chest to play with the stem of your wine glass. Tyson smiles sheepishly, looking down at the instrument now resting his lap.

His Grandpa slaps Tyspn’s shoulder saying he did a good job, and suggests to him that he’ll teach him a few more songs before he leaves. The conversation flows naturally from there as the three of you continue to sip on your wine. You and Tyson share stories from your college days and Grandpa Jim doesn’t miss any chances when it comes to making fun of his grandson - too which Tyson continuously groans in embarrassment at.

One glass of wine ends up turning into two, but you couldn’t complain as you hugged Grandpa Jim and Tyson goodbye in the entryway, letting them know you’d see them tomorrow at the game.

April 2018 – Morrison, CO

“Have you ever thought about who your soulmate might be?” You ask Tyson, voice just above a whisper. Your eyes flicker from the night sky to your friend next to you, before flicking back towards the brightly lit, crescent moon in the clear sky.

“Honestly?” He checks with you, looking at you as you nod your head towards him. “I’ve put most of my time into my hockey career for pretty much my whole life. I haven’t slowed down enough to give it much thought.”

You hum in response, understanding the intensity that was his life. “But have you ever, like, just fantasized about it?”

He stays quiet for a moment, his eyebrows scrunched together and his eyes looking off into the distance thinking over the question. “I guess I’ve thought about what she looks like and what it’ll feel like when it happens, ya know?”

You chuckle at his response, nodding in agreement. The two of you are laying on a shared blanket - the one you kept in your car for moments like these - just off the path of your favorite spot to hike. You had discovered it soon after you had moved to Denver all those months ago, and it had quickly become your favorite spot to come to on nights when there was a clear sky scattered with bright stars.

“I feel like I fall into that category of people that’s all like ‘it’ll happen when it happens’. I’m not actively looking for anyone but I’m not avoiding it either.” He explains further. “What about you?” He asks, turning his head to look at you.

“I’m really excited for whenever it happens.” You start, voice soft and smooth like honey. “Growing up my friends and I would always talk about how we wanted it to happen or what we wanted our soulmarks to look like.” You turn your attention back to your friend whose gaze is already on you. The combination of the moonlight and the stars create a slight, almost ethereal, glow on his tan skin.

“Yeah?” He asks, smiling softly at the fondness in your voice.

“Yeah, like, my one friend back home got exactly what she guessed.” You smile, thinking of the small butterfly tattoo she has on her ankle. “We have this theory that whatever you think it will be or want it to be, will actually be what it is.”

Tyson hums, eyebrows furrowing as he thinks more about your theory.

“I kinda hope mine has to do with the mountains or the sky. I don’t know, it kinda sounds silly now that I’m this old still thinking about it.” You shrug, smile faltering as you feel your walls to start coming back up.

“No, it isn’t at all,” Tyson reassures you. He turns his body towards you, propping his head upon his hand before he continues. “I wanna hear about it.”

“I just feel like I have this connection to the mountains and to the sky and to the moon and to the stars,” You ramble. “Growing up I was always really infatuated by it all and always wanted to go on trips to the mountains and lakes instead of the beach. Like, part of me feels like I was supposed to end up in Denver because what better place is there to get all of that than here.” Your smile comes back slowly as the corners of your mouth turn up at the thought.

“You should go to Lake Okanagan in the summertime.” He suggests. “It’s where I spend my summers, it’s beautiful. You get the best views of the mountains when it’s sunny out.” He smiles at you, thinking back to his memories of last summer.

Quietness falls over the two of you as Tyson rolls back to lay on his back, moving his hands to rest under his head. The moonlight and the stars are the only sources of light on the mountainside. The only sound around the two of you is the wind rustling through the trees and the music playing quietly from your car speakers.

“Does it ever scare you?” Tyson asks. You continue to look at the man lying next to you, unable to read his face.

“Soulmates?”

“Yeah. What if I never find mine?” He asks, barely above a whisper. “It’s so engraved in our minds from such a young age that there’s someone out there for you and that you’re destined to meet them. What happens if you don’t though? Or if the person you fall in love with doesn’t fall in love with you?”

This time, it’s your turn to turn your body to face his, your head now leaning on your hand. “There’s definitely stories like that out there, but you can’t let that thought be the one to cloud your mind.”

“It just seems like so much extra added pressure.” He continues. From the short time you’ve been close to Tyson, you’ve quickly noticed that one thing he struggles with is not letting the pressure get to him.

“You have to remember you’re barely 21, you still have your life – and your career – ahead of you. Don’t forget that.” You reassure. Tyson stays quiet at your advice, closing his eyes. “Besides, you’re too great a guy to not find someone that wants to spend forever with you.”

He doesn’t respond verbally to you and instead nods his head once more letting out a heavy breath. The music and the wind becomes the predominant sounds before he speaks up again. “Hey, thanks for taking me out here.” Tyson speaks, opening his eyes and flicking them towards you. “I needed a break from the stress of the playoff push.”

“Of course.” You reply with a yawn, “I’m always down for spontaneous trips out here.”

You yawn once more, causing Tyson to sit up. “C’mon let’s get you home. I’ll drive.”

You stretch your arms above your head as you stand up, wrapping the blanket around you as you walk to the passenger side door of your car.

Tyson starts your car, turning the music down some before he puts the car in drive and starts the short drive back to Denver.

“You can stay at my apartment if you don’t want to drive back to your house.” You offer, knowing once he dropped you off and started his drive back it would be well past midnight by the time he got home.

Tyson ponders the offer shortly before responding, “I think I’m gonna just head home. I have an early practice in the morning and I don’t want to have to drive around all morning or wake you up earlier than you’re used to.”

You nod your head in response, too tired to use your words to respond.

“I have a question for you.” Tyson starts after a few songs have gone by. “Gabe’s getting married in July. I wanted to know if you wanna go?”

“Is Gabe asking you to ask me or are you asking me to go with you?” You asked, considering you weren’t terribly close to the captain, so you figured it was the latter. You had only hung around him when you made your casual appearance to group-gatherings over the past few months.

“He wants you to come.” Tyson states, “and I want you to come.” He looks at you at his second statement, blush rising to his cheeks in the dark car. You hum as you think about the offer.

“And it’s in California and I know you’ve never been.”

“That’s a pretty good selling point, bud.” You joke, “Ask me again tomorrow when I’m not half-asleep in my car.”

Tyson smiles widely, glancing at your smiling face once more before focusing on the road in front of him.

A few days pass by before Tyson walks through your apartment door kicking off his shoes in a messy manner. You give him a stern look telling him to keep the entranceway neat before he kicks his shoes so they’re neatly placed next to your running shoes and out of the way.

“Sorry we haven;t been able to talk much since I brought up Gabe’s wedding. I promise I didn’t forget I just got really busy with some family stuff.” Tyson rambles as he moves into your living room, sitting on the ‘L’ part of your couch.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” You ask, wanting to make sure your best friend was feeling alright. You take a seat at the opposite end where you were sitting before he arrived, folding your legs underneath you.

“It’s nothing really anymore, Kacey just had a tough end to her senior season and had an injury scare on top of that. All good though.” Tyson reassures you as he pushes a hand through his longer than normal curls. You knew he was due for a haircut soon, knowing that he had a weird thing where he didn’t like being able to tuck his curls behind his ears.

“She’ll be a freshman in the fall right?” You ask, not quite remembering his sister’s age.

“Yeah, she’s super pumped. She got to meet a lot of her new teammates a few weeks ago and said she’s really excited to start playing with them, especially at the next level, ya know?” Tyson says, quirking his eyebrow in your direction.

“I’m glad she’s not hurt then, so she can be ready right away for college.”

“Yeah, me too.” He says, a sigh of relief coming out of his mouth. “Anyways, Gabe’s wedding. You still want to come? I was serious about it when I asked you the other night?” He turns his head to face you, tucking one his large legs under him and moving his arm to drape over the back of the couch.

“It sounds like a lot of fun, yeah. As long as you’re sure Gabe doesn’t mind that I'm coming.”

“I already told you, he said he doesn’t mind and that he wants you there. I even asked him why he didn’t just ask you and he said something about how he just assumed I was already planning on bringing you, whatever he means by that.” Tyson waves off.

“Then, yeah. Give me the dates and I’ll request time off.” You answer, a small, tight-lipped smile tugging at the corner of your lips. His smile mirror yours only slightly larger before the two of you start an argument over what new show you were going to start.

July 2018 - Newport Beach, CA

As you walk towards the baggage claim of the airport you shoot a text to Tyson, letting him know you landed and just waiting on getting your bags. Instead of texting you back, your phone starts ringing and Tyson’s face fills the screen.

“Hey! So I’ve actually been here for a while, so I parked, and now I’m walking towards the baggage claim area, too.” Tyson lets out in one breath.

“Really?” You exclaim. A smile finds its way on your face at the thought of seeing your best friend for the first time since early May in a few short minutes. That was the major downfall of becoming so close to Tyson - he lived hundreds of miles away from you in a different country for close to four months out of the year.

“I’m walking in right now. I see baggage claim number three if that helps?” He says, infliction in his voice as he asks the question.

You don’t answer and instead, turn your body around dramatically looking for where Tyson may be standing. Your eyes move around the large space quite quickly until you see Tyson and his familiar head of brown curls with his phone pressed to his ear.

You shriek lightly at the sight of him and you can see him pull his phone away from his ear in confusion before you’re jogging over to him and encompassing his body into a hug.

“Hello to you too.” He laughs, wrapping his arms around your body tightly. The two of you stay together for a beat too long and you pull away looking up at his face, then looking at the random people standing a few feet away from you to avoid his gaze.

“Whose car did you drive?” You ask. You knew that he had flown in from Alberta yesterday so he obviously didn’t have a vehicle of his own with him, which was something the two of you had argued about the day prior when solidifying your arrival plans. You had told him you had no issues ordering an Uber and meeting him at the hotel which he refused to let you do.

“Gabe let me borrow his actually.” He answers, following you as you lead him towards your respective baggage carousel.

“That’s surprising considering you’re the worst driver I know.” You chirp. He scoffs in response, knowing you don’t actually mean that.

You stand in silence, shoulder to shoulder, enjoying each other’s company as you wait for your bag to come around. Once you spot you go to grab it and Tyson doesn’t miss the chance to chirp you on the size of your suitcase.

“You’re literally here for three days, what the hell did you pack?” Tyson asks, grabbing the rolling suitcase from you. He starts to lead the two of you out of the airport and to the parking garage where he’s parked.

“I needed options! You know how indecisive I can be when picking out my outfits.” You bite back. There had been plenty of times when you were late to something he invited you to and times where he sat around your apartment waiting for you to just pick an outfit. Not to mention all the times you’d ask for his opinion and the countless amounts of times he reminded you of his colorblindness.

“So what are our plans for the rest of the day?” you ask once you’re sitting in the passenger seat and on the highway heading towards the hotel.

“The wedding is obviously Saturday, so we can do whatever we want today and tomorrow. Everyone’s doing a thing tonight at the house Gabe and Mel rented for family that we can go to.” Tyson suggests.

“It’s not just a team thing?” You ask.

“Nah, it’s everyone that’s already in town, like family, close friends, a bunch of the team, and some other players Gabe invited.”

“Sounds like fun. My only request is that we go to the beach and that I can take you to get a pedicure with me.” You muse, looking across the car to see Tyson’s eyes bulge at the word ‘pedicure’. “Please! I don’t know anyone but some of the team so you have to come with!”

“Fine,” He huffs out. “Just don’t put me on your Instagram story.”

You cheer in victory to yourself and turn the volume up on the radio as you hear a familiar song start to play.

The two of you are sitting at a large round table, sharing it with a few of Tyson’s teammates and their dates. Most of them are off on the dancefloor or at the bar getting refills. You’re sipping on your cocktail admiring Gabe and Mel as they continue to make their rounds around the reception room.

“Hey Tys, thanks for inviting me this weekend.” You say, moving your attention from the newly married couple to your friend sitting next to you. There’s a slight glossiness to his eyes and his golden cheeks have a pink tinge to them from what you assume was the many Bud Lights he’s consumed. You can hear the slight slur in his louder than normal tone as he speaks and the way some part of his body seems to always be touching yours, whether it be standing shoulder to shoulder or laying his hands softly on your exposed back.

His suit jacket and tie are long-gone and draped over the back of his seat. The California heat combined with the alcohol he’s consumed has also caused him to undo the first few buttons on his dress shirt and roll up his sleeves. His silver watch stands out against his tanner than normal skin and you admire the contrast before looking back up at Tyson’s face.

“I’m glad you came, too.” He agrees sweetly. He moves his arms that’s draped over the back of your seat causally to grab at your hand that’s sitting in your lap. He stands up, tugging at your hand and setting his drink down on the table in front of him. “Let’s dance.”

You stand up, letting the slit in your floor-length dress fall around your bare leg. “My feet hurt,” you pout, sticking out your heel adorned feet. Tyson glances down at your feet and back up to your face before suggesting that you take them off. Before you can even argue about how pain is beauty or whatever, he’s lifting the thighs of his slacks before he’s down on one knee reaching for your ankles.

“What are you-” You start with a laugh. He interrupts you with a loud shush before moving his fingers to under the straps of your heels.

“I expect us to be tearing up the dance floor all night and I’m not listening to you complain.” He states. You step out of your right heel as he moves to do the same with your left heel, thanking him as he places them under your chair.

He grabs your hand again and drags you out the dance floor, joining JT, Sydney, Alexander, and Marissa. It seems like hundreds of songs go by and as that time goes by it seems as the men in attendance have decided to not only ditch their suit jackets, but start ditching their dress shirts as well. You laugh alongside some of the other girls as they watch their boyfriends whip their shirts above their heads.

Tyson, never one to not act like a fool, also decides to partake in the new dress code. You can see the redness in his cheeks start to pop out and the curls in his hair are starting to bounce around atop his head.

He dances his way over to you as the song fades into the next one, a much slower one this time, and he pulls you into him before you can run back to your table.

“Just one slow song.” He pleads, teeth shining through his smile. He puts his dress shirt back on, choosing to not tuck it back into his slacks, and only doing the buttons up halfway.

“You keep me young.” You muse as you rest your hands softly on his shoulders.

“Shut up,” he laughs. “I’m only, like, four years younger than you.”

You move your arms from around his neck briefly to scratch at your left elbow for what felt like the millionth time that evening, continuing to sway to the soft beat of the acoustic guitar that’s playing.

“You okay?” Tyson inquires with knitted eyebrows once he notices the discomfort on your face.

“Uh, yeah, I think my eczema is acting up again. No big deal.” You reassure him with a smile on your face. “I have lotion back at the hotel.”

Tyson smiles right back at you before pulling you in a little tighter to his chest, continuing to sway to the music. “Good, gotta make sure you’re all good.”

His voice is barely above a whisper, sending shivers down the exposed part of your back. You readjust your arms and rest your hands at the back of his neck, playing with the long curls resting at the nape. You look up at your best friend, with a new sort of adoration in your eyes before speaking up. “Still haven’t gotten your summer haircut, have you?”

A quiet chuckle passed through Tyson’s lips, “No, I was thinking of listening to what everyone was saying and let the curls go wild for a bit.”

You nod your head at his words, knowing that you were one of the many people that encouraged him to keep his hair on the longer side. The song and the chatter of the crowd drown to the background as you look into Tyson’s eyes. He’s looking back at you with what you think is the same look that you have in your eyes, with pure adoration and like you could have hung the moon in the sky.

Tyson’s hands slowly move from the small of your back, one going to your hip and the other curling around your rib cage, and suddenly his head is tilting down towards yours. Going along with both his movements and bravery, your hands tug around his neck bringing his head closer to yours as you tilt your head up, getting ready to meet him in the middle.

You can feel his nose brush against yours and that’s when the background noise comes back, someone in the distance clanking their champagne flute to make a speech and cheers erupting around you. Tyson breathes out heavily, closing his eyes, choosing to instead pull your body flush against his in a hug.

You release Tyson, looking around the reception area to see that Gabe’s sister is the one getting everyone’s attention for a speech. The two of you are standing staggered now, with your shoulder in front of his as Beatrice begins to speak. She dives headfirst into stories about how Gabe would constantly call his twin throughout the years to talk about Mel, stories about the summers Mel spent in Sweden with the Landeskog family, and what happened when Gabe’s soulmark had appeared on his shoulder blade a few years back.

All of the storytelling has Tyson pulling your back into his front, draping his arms loosely around your shoulders. You smile, holding onto his forearms, leaning back into his chest. As Beatrice continues to tell stories of her twin falling in love and finding his soulmark, you can’t help but think about the brief two years you’ve known the man standing behind you.

He was essentially some random Canadian that had somehow forced his way into your life. From finishing your senior year at North Dakota barely knowing him to you landing a job in Denver and befriending his neighbor unknowingly. From getting really into hockey only because you had tutored a few guys on a college team to it becoming an almost every day topic of discussion for you.

From how getting into hockey landed you here, at the Colorado Avalanche captain’s wedding, in beautiful Southern California, dancing with a man you knew would somehow forever have an impact on your life. That feeling was only confirmed when the two of you went to the airport the next evening to get on flights that were going to two separate places - him back to Alberta and you to Denver.

tag list: @REAVENEDGES-LIES (if you want to be added just let me know)

#tyson jost imagine #tyson jost #alex writes #nhl imagine #ybtmastm fic

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doraspenlow · 5 years

Text

ok it’s clown movie fanfic time

We Go On

(you can read on ao3 here)

It’s been three years now and Derry, Maine is a nice town, anybody will tell you that. There’s been a little boom of people moving in, who knows why– getting away from the city, enjoy the suburbs, commuting in to work. It’s a nice town. The people are nice too. There were some… incidents, quite recently actually, but who wants to talk about that. So some madman who once killed his father busted out and killed some kids. Well, he died. (The cops never found out what happened to Henry Bowers, his skull split open, but they weren’t investigating too hard). So that one poor man got thrown off a bridge. The town had a nice little candlelight vigil. It made the local news, and those boys all went to juvie. Nobody talks about these things anymore. Sometimes it’s as if they’ve forgotten entirely. It’s a nice town. Sure thing.

(The five of them will never, ever go back.)

Bill’s new book is coming out, finally, and the preorder numbers are higher than they’ve ever been. The New York Times gave the ARC the best review they’ve ever bestowed upon him. Something about “fundamental humanity in the face of terror”. Something about “the agonies and joys of growing up and facing your childhood”. They still think the ending is shit. That’s alright. Can’t win ‘em all. Anyways, he doesn’t love the ending either.

He and Audra got divorced– a month after the movie project he’d split from came out. The critics loved the movie. (Loved the ending especially, though it’s not his ending, it’s the work of some guy they yanked out of nowhere to ‘fix things up’). Everybody said the director’s an auteur, Audra’s a genius, that if the academy didn’t hate horror it’d get nominations for sure. All the buzz drove him crazy while he meddled around in his office. He screamed once too often. She left him. It’s probably a good thing– he didn’t know how to cut the chain. Three years later and she’s doing prestige stuff now, she’s engaged to that pretty boy actor boyfriend of hers. He’s happy for her. He really is.

He’s left California for Oregon. It’s cool, northern, but with a touch of that west coast freshness. Everything back east is so old. He doesn’t date, he’s taking time to “work on Bill” as he tells any interviewer who asks. One day he might try again– find some nice woman. A blonde or a brunette. Somebody who doesn’t remind him of anybody.

Richie’s still in LA, and he’s started dating, really dating, for the first time in his life. There were some half hearted attempts at having girlfriends in college, and a few hookups with men here and there, but he’s never done the whole romance thing. He feels awful pathetic, dating for the first time in his life at over forty, but it’s alright. The men he’s gone out with have been very understanding. This latest one’s real nice– a clever, tidy sort of guy, doesn’t care for stand up and had never heard of him before a mutual friend introduced them. They’ve been going for a month maybe. He doesn’t think the guy’ll last, but he’s hopeful someday someone will.

He took a long break, after Derry. An unexpected and abrupt hiatus. There were a few months were he wanted to die, a few months after that where he went to a lot of parties and snorted a lot of coke. That ended, and he started visiting this therapist– some beaky little woman his manager recommended. He still wanted to die a little bit, but he decided it was probably better to live. The tour after that crisis was the “Come Out Comeback Tour”– he wrote some of his own jokes for the first time in a long time. He told funny stories from when he was a kid. It was strange, he reflected, that he had funny stories to tell. Rooting around through his memory was like running his tongue along a line of rotten teeth. It ached, almost unbearably. But there were pleasant moments, and he was glad he hadn’t forgotten them.

“I guess my first real crush was this kid in middle school– he’d been one of my best friends forever, but about seventh grade I started having all of these feelings– and I decided to do something nice for him, something discreet– I was going to give him a popsicle. Like a literal popsicle, you perverts! C’mon! Anyways, at lunch one day I bought a bomb pop, I went to our lunch table and… I chickened out. I stuck the popsicle in my pants pocket, because I was 12 and a fucking idiot, and I went on my merry way. It was only after my next class was over that I realized the popsicle had melted through my jeans. It looked like I pissed my pants. But I pissed my pants for love, and how many seventh graders can say that?”

The divorce was a mess– Bev had expected it to be, but it still made her panicky. She didn’t so much as want to see Tom again, much less have a legal battle. For months, she’d wake up crying, miserable dreams dripping out of her mind like water. She won, in court, testified and showed pictures of bruises and witness reports and described how it was all her work, and wound up getting a restraining order against Tom and full ownership over Rogan and Marsh fashion– now just Beverly Marsh fashion. She thinks about changing the name to something modern, anonymous– but she doesn’t. It’s nice to know she has something hers. That she can be just her, and be alright. “You’ll be nothing without me––” well haha, she is something. She’s Beverly fucking Marsh, and that’s something.

It’s nice to be loved, though. Divorce is as sweet as a summer's day, and remarriage is as sweet as honey. She and Ben got married less than a week after it’s all finalized, in a courthouse, in their everyday clothes, a couple of her friends as witnesses. They bought rings on the way home, simple little bands. They split their time between Chicago and Nebraska– Ben’s used to working remotely, and she doesn’t mind it. He’s started talking about maybe building them a house of their own– she says maybe New Mexico? It’s so warm and dry and safe in New Mexico– and all the artists love Santa Fe.

So maybe they’ll move to New Mexico, or maybe they’ll stay here. It doesn’t really matter where they go. They’ll be together. It feels so good to be loved like a person. It feels so good to know she’s a person. She still has bad dreams, but she has nice ones too. Lovely ones– a boat on the ocean with the sky clear and blue. A litter of puppies she can hold. Her husband kissing her. A group of children, laughing children, playing little kid games. There’s seven of them, the children, all splashing each other in a lake, like they’ve never suffered and they never will. She wants to have children, though she’s getting older now. She wants two or three of them. She likes to think she’d be a good mother.

Ben thinks she’d be a good one too. He adds plans for children’s bedrooms to his favorite piece of mental drawing paper– a building titled “the dream home”. He’s been working on it for a decade– the dream home had a double bedroom before he had anybody to share it with. He was so used to loneliness it took him a while to get used to another person’s rhythms– how she’ll get into bed and just then remember to brush her teeth, hopping back out again, how she sings in the shower and refuses to acknowledge it.

He’d once thought he’d be lonely forever. Now, at 43, he’s trying once more to make friends. He goes to dinner parties and makes meaningful conversation, he takes up fishing with a man from work. You might never love your friends as brilliantly, as totally as you do at 11, but there's a comfort in the easy, mild talks about the weather, about work. He lets himself eat ice cream, now and then, and a social life means less time for working out. Nobody really notices– Bev says he’s still hot. But of course she’d say that, she loves him– And oh, it rushes over him sometimes, she loves him, she loves him, she loves him.

He used to write poems, but he hasn’t since college. He feels like he’s getting rusty with words somehow, and he’s always been better with his hands. He’s fixing to unveil this stunner of a municipal building in Chicago– it’s maybe the best thing he’s ever designed. He takes Beverly on a private tour a few days before the ribbon cutting– there’s some last minute things being put together, furniture and lighting, but she still tears up when she looks around. “It’s so lovely,” she says, “this is the most wonderful–” and cuts off, moved. He thinks, looking at the light caught in her hair ‘I’ll build you something even better, darling. I’ll build you a future.”

Mike heads down to Florida, like he used to dream about. On the way there he made a stop in Atlanta to see Patty Uris. She was very polite, pleased to meet one of her dead husband’s old friends– hungry for stories of a childhood he never spoke of. The mirrors were still covered, and she tangled her hands in and out of knots. Mike still felt guilty. He’s been trying to not feel guilty. He told her anecdotes about Stan as a child– he didn’t know him as long as some of the others, but he knew him enough. He knew him when it was important. “Your husband was a brave man.” He told Patty, who closed her eyes. “He was, he really was.”

He contemplated, for a moment, staying in Atlanta– befriending Patty, telling more stories. But he’s a little sick of playing historian, of being a keeper of ghosts. He heads down to Florida. He gets a job in a small town library, makes acquaintances, meets a woman. If he wants, he can go anywhere in the world. The freedom shocks him, the lightness. Anywhere in the world– Rome, Tokyo, Sydney, Helsinki, Cairo. Places where it never rains, places where it rains all the time. He keeps a framed photo of his parents on the counter– his parents as he never knew them– young and just married and laughing to each other. He likes to think they’d be proud of him for leaving. For having the world at his feet.

He has two dogs and a cat, eats vegan, takes up biking. The children at the library call him ‘Mr Mike’ and climb over his arms like a jungle gym. Eventually, his neighbors start calling him Mr Mike too, which is funny. Most people don’t look at him like an intruder, and when they do it’s easier to shake off their stares. His hair starts greying at the temples and he relishes it. He’s made it this far. He hopes to keep making it.

It’s almost always Mike who send the emails, a tradition at this point– “Hey everybody!! Want to meet up? Where, this time? Kansas? Colorado?” And the others will reply– yes-yes-of course-yes-let’s go to Denver-lets get Greek food-I know this really great spot-how about Mexican-July-maybe August?– And he amalgamates their suggestions into plans, sends off the group message, mark his calendar. He sits back and smile, types out “I can’t wait to see you all again”. Presses send.

So it’s been three years now. And here they are, in a Mexican restaurant in Denver (they never get Chinese). They’re chattering about their lives, the five of them– Mike’s girlfriend, Richie’s boyfriend, Bev and Ben’s fertility treatments. Bill’s a little quiet. They look at him. He pulls the new book out of his bag– four copies. They coo dutifully over the cover, flip through the pages. Get to the dedication. Stop. To six that made my lucky seven– Stan, Eddie, Richie, Beverly, Ben, Mike. All my love. The loser’s club rides forever.

“The ending’s still awful.” Bill says, to stop their tears with laughter. They shake their heads and say they’re sure they’ll love it. He thinks they probably won’t– even he thinks the ending isn’t great. He’s bad with endings, he’ll admit that now.

The friends in the book, they all go off. They kill the bad guy, get their tidy endings, resolve their trauma, end up with their sweethearts or happily alone. He wrote it, and yet it still rings half hollow to him. No one can walk off the page happily ever after. They’ll still have nightmares. They’ll ruin relationships, try to pick up the pieces. Things are always going to be difficult. But they’ll keep going. And that’s the other thing he’s always hated about endings– the finality, the never-see-you-again. That’s the worst thing of all. He’s lucky, he thinks as he looks at his laughing friends, his best friends, the loves of his life, he’s lucky that life isn’t a story. That it goes on. That they’ll keep going on.

The loser’s club rides forever.

#it chapter 2 #richie tozier #bill denbrough #reddie #benverly #ben hanscom #beverly marsh #mike hanlon #mine #it fanfiction #my writing #speech #sk tag #it

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cabaretcal · 5 years

Text

you’re the one that i want - a.i.

I’m finally continuing the broadway series after 2653578 years! I’ve been having writers block, sorry about the lack of posts! This is based around Grease, y/n is Sandy, Ashton is Danny. Basically y/n is new to showbiz and Ashton shows her the ropes, friends to lovers trope, you know how we do.

2.5k words

You paced around your small apartment anxiously: it was callback day. Callback day was the most stressful time for anyone in the theatre world. Today was the day you find out if you made the cut to be apart of Grease or if you didn’t do good enough to make the director even bat an eye. You did a lot of theatre back when you lived in Chicago, but New York was different. More competitive. Thousands watching rather than a few hundred. Tourists traveling and spending hundreds on a good seat rather than some regular Chicagoans buying a ticket for twenty dollars. New York was showbiz central.

You took pride in your acting. Back in Chicago, you had countless roles you loved playing: Sally Bowles in Cabaret, Elphaba in Wicked, Zoe in Dear Evan Hansen, and more. But Chicago is way less competitive than the big apple. You knew the theatre world back home, but you didn’t know it here at all.

Your phone rang and you scrambled to pick it up and answer. You contain yourself and say a simple hello. A man's voice is on the other line. You’ve been offered another audition to further your audition process for the part of Sandy. You gladly say yes and end the conversation. You were relieved that you had another audition, but it was still terrifying. You could screw it up and lose your chance. Grease is a classic, and it has to be perfect. Callbacks were the next morning, so you went to bed early and waited for what was to come.

—

You arrived with an open mind. Around ten other girls were there. 10 girls who want to be Sandy. 10 girls who want this role just as much as you. Maybe more than you. If you were lucky you’d get a chorus member at this rate.

A tall man with light brown hair and hazel eyes walks around, greeting the girls. He has a kind smile paired with a silk red shirt and tight black pants, iced coffee in hand. You see him start to walk towards you and you’re slightly confused.

“Hey, how are you? I’m apart of the cast and could possibly end up being your Danny, and we’ll be performing some scenes together for your 2nd audition. I wanted to introduce myself, I’m Ashton.” He holds his hand out and you take it, shaking it and smiling.

“I’m y/n, it’s nice to meet you. Is this your first broadway show?”

He ponders for a moment, “This is my 5th, actually. I did stuff back in Sydney though before I came to New York. You?”

You begin to feel embarrassed. You have absolutely no broadway experience whatsoever. “This is my first broadway show… in Chicago I did stuff though. But nothing here in New York yet.”

“Well you got a callback for the lead so I think you’re in good shape, y/n.” He smiled warmly.

He was different from other actors you’ve met. Many were arrogant and were only there to do their part and leave. He cheered you on despite never meeting you. It was a pleasant surprise.

“Perhaps I am, Ashton.” He smiled and walked to a seat, and you did the same. The director handed out excerpts and began calling names. You watched some of the girls perform scenes and they were all quite impressive. You were very unsure of yourself. You kept growing more and more nervous and you didn’t know if you’d compare to everyone else.

“Y/n! Scene 11, the drive in scene.”

You stand up from your seat and take a deep breath, walking up to the stage.

Ashton cleared his throat, looking at the script then into your eyes, “Hey, you’re not with another guy, are you?”

“No, why?” Your eyes glance down at the script and back into his eyes.

Ashton acts nervous and nonchalant, “No reason… I uh wanted to ask you to take my ring.” He holds out his hand as if there’s a ring there and pretends to put it on your finger. The scene continues, and before you even have a chance to read the stage direction he kisses you. Your cheeks burn and you continue the scene, finishing it out. Ashton smiles at you and goes back to his seat as you do your singing portion of the audition to the song Hopelessly Devoted To You. You go back to your seat, wondering if what you did would be enough.

The last few girls perform and everyone is dismissed. As you put your jacket on, Ashton walks towards you with a soft smile.

“You did really good, I told you it’d be fine. You wanna maybe get lunch? There’s this place down the street you need to try if you’re gonna be a true New Yorker!”

“Sure, why not?” You walk with him to the small restaurant, talking as if you have known him your whole life.

—

“Your favorite movie is Kill Bill? I never would’ve guessed that…” Ashton was sat across from you at the sandwich shop, asking you a series of ‘get to know me’ questions.

“Uma Thurman is my girl crush,” You smirk, “what’s your favorite show?”

“Definitely Brooklyn 9-9. It isn’t deep or anything and it’s just a comedy, but it’s my happy place, what about you?”

“I love Gossip Girl… I know it’s such a girly show but I really like it.” You blush out of embarrassment, but he breaks out into a grin.

“I love Gossip Girl! I watched it with my sister all the time back home. It’s a great show.”

Surprised is an understatement. You never knew a guy could be such a softie. You smile out of relief and drink your tea as He rapid fires questions to you for the next hour.

—

You got the call the next morning. You were officially Sandy. In celebration, he’s hanging out at your apartment and he brought cheap boxed wine.

“What if I’m not cut out for broadway, Ash? What if everyone walks all over me? I don’t know anything about showbiz here in New York.” All you had in your mind was doubt.

“I’m not gonna sugarcoat it. People will be jealous. People will talk about you behind your back. Critics will rip you to shreds. But all that matters is your performance. That dumb, bald critic isn’t the one getting that paycheck and that standing ovation. It’s you. You have to give your all every night. But it’s always worth it. I’ll be with you every step of the way for this show. I’ll guide you. I’ll be like the guy in Pretty Woman! Guiding you through life…”

“Oh Ashton, I’m so lucky you’re my friend. I never thought I’d meet anyone here honestly. You really are the Edward Lewis to my Vivian Ward.” He laughs and clinks his glass with yours.

“First rehearsal is gonna be splendid, darling.”

—

The first rehearsal began at 7:30 am sharp. The first priority was choreography of “Summer Nights”. You met the girls playing Frenchy and Rizzo, and they were very welcoming. Now whoever was playing Jan, however, was a bit snarky. She didn’t even give you a simple hello. You decided to think nothing of it and just go on with rehearsal.

The tech crew brought out some makeshift temporary bleachers for the choreography and everyone got to work. The T Birds and Ashton went to the other side of the stage where the women were all to the other side. You held your music in hand and began your first note while also mirroring the choreographers directions. All was going well until you accidentally stepped on Jan’s foot, causing her to glare at you and yell, “Watch it!”.

You were taken aback. Everyone stopped suddenly and the pianist came to an abrupt halt.

“I’m so sorry-“ you started to say, but was interrupted immediately.

“Maybe you should know what you’re doing if you’re going to be the lead, or were you not aware that you should actually have some experience?”

You mumble barely loud enough for anyone to hear, “I won’t do it again…”

Rehearsal continued, and the room was tense for the remainder of the choreography portion.

“Alright everyone take 5!” The director's voice loudly remarked. Before you knew it, Ashton was walking towards you. His hair was a bit of a mess and his sleeves were rolled up.

“So how was your first choreography session, Sandy?” He grinned, taking a long drink from his water bottle.

You weren’t sure if you should tell him you actually were on the brink of tears. It was way too early to already have complaints, but you were sure that that one girl already hated you and you didn’t even know why.

“It was great, amazing.” You forced a smile and he broke out into a grin. You just couldn’t tell him you were already upset.

“I knew you’d be amazing! I told you it wouldn’t be so bad. We’re doing a run through of the song with everyone next. I’ll get to see you rock it.” He smiled and walked back towards the guys. You sighed, walking back to the group of girls. This would be a long 3 months of rehearsal.

—

You opened the door to your studio apartment and collapsed on the bed, burying your face in your pillow. Then the tears came. You couldn’t believe how upset you were. You didn’t think it would bother you as much as it did, but you felt like you already blew the role of your dreams. You decided to call Ashton, hoping he could lift your spirits.

“Hey y/n, what’s up?” He had his usual cheery tone of voice and you already felt better.

“I know I said rehearsal was great, but the girl playing Jan was really terrible and hurt my feelings really bad and maybe she’s right maybe I don’t have what it takes, Ash. What if she’s right?” At that point you were crying even more. You didn’t expect to cry even more, but it was happening.

“Woah woah woah. The real Sandy Olsson would never take anyone else’s shit. Y/n, you’re one of the most talented people I’ve ever met. You’ve forced me to come over now. I’m gonna make you feel better. Leave the door unlocked and just be expecting me.” He hung up before you could even argue. But you were glad you didn’t have a chance to argue.

—

About an hour passed and your door opened. Ashton walked in, closing the door behind him. He had 2 pints of Ben and Jerry’s and two 4 packs of Smirnoff in his arms. He kicked the door closed gently and sat at the foot of your bed.

“There’s my favorite broadway sensation.” You mumble from under your covers, grinning when you lock eyes.

“Here I am!” He smiled, handing you a pint of ice cream and a plastic spoon, “I also have alcohol.”

You smile, opening the ice cream and wrapping your arms around him, “Thank you for coming here… I hope I didn’t interrupt anything.”

“Well I was planning world domination but I’ll get back to that.”

You laugh mad shake your head, “Well… let’s watch Gossip Girl and get drunk then, shall we?”

“We shall.”

—

“She’s just jealous that you’re the lead! Did you see her callback performance for Sandy? It was so half assed! You definitely were the best.” Ashton was on his third drink and there was no hiding it. He was slurring all of his words and laughing at every little thing. You found it adorable.

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.” A blush crept across your cheeks and you looked down at your cup.

With his hand, he pushed your head up from your chin, “I’m not blind, i know a good actress when I see one, silly. Also, it’s cute when you blush,” He smirked when you blushed even more, “I mean if you want we can practice scenes together outside of rehearsal. We could now! I have my script in my bag…”

Before you could even begin to say no, he was already reading out one of his lines.

“I really like you, Sandy.”

You sigh and grab your script, opening to the right page and sitting across from him on your bed, “Danny, take it easy! What are you trying to do?” You glance down at the book, seeing what his next line is and look back up.

“Can I try something out?”

“Um, that’s not your line Ash-“

His hand comes up to your cheek and before you know it, his lips are on yours. Taken aback, your eyes widen, but then slowly close. You wrap your arms around his neck and twirl the hair at the nape of his neck around your finger and his hands grip your waist. He pulls away and you catch your breath. He smiles at you, “But you enjoyed it, didn’t you?”

“Shut up.”

“That’s a yes I take it.”

You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol talking, but you were sure that you were falling. Hard.

—

“You’re the one that I want, you are the one I want, ooo ooo ooo honey…”

Everyone had gotten down the choreography to this scene, so everyone was just doing a run through without instruction. Before rehearsal even started, you talked to Ashton as usual. He didn’t even mention the night before. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was for the best. Some friendships need to stay friendships. And that was fine, but a part of you didn’t want that to be true. But what could you do? You never mentioned it again. You decided it was for the best.

Countless deli lunches together passed, dozens of coffee runs continued, about 100 more rehearsals occurred, months passed and the day came. Opening night. It was a full house.

You were in your dressing room, finishing up your makeup. A knock took you out of your trance, and you told them to come in.

Ashton came through the door, “Opening night! Are you ready?” He sat on the couch in the dressing room, wearing a tight white shirt and leather jacket, hair slicked back. He looked so good that it physically hurt.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” You weakly smile, “ya know I heard Rizzo has a thing for you.”

“Too bad she’s not my type… I’m into girls named Sandy.”

“Haha very funny, Ash, I mean like in real life.”

“Yeah so do I. A wise man once said, ‘you’re the one that I want, you are the one I want, ooo ooo ooo honey.” You laugh, and look into his eyes.

He’s not drunk right now. He’s sober. He is in your dressing room, telling you he is into you.

“Break a leg, Sandy.” And then he kisses you. And this time you know it isn’t the alcohol talking.

Summer loving. Happened so fast.

#ashton irwin fic #ashton irwin imagine #ashton irwin #5sos imagine #5sos ashton #5sos #5sos fic #5sos blurb #5 seconds of summer imagine #5 seconds of summer #5 seconds of summer fic #broadway!sos

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thruheavenandhighwater · 5 years

Text

Holiday Series - Luke

[Michael] [Calum] [Ashton]

Pairing: Luke Hemmings/ Female OC

Requested By: N/A

Word Count: 3,974

Summary: Coffee shop AU in which barista Luke get stuck working on Christmas.

Luke sighed as he checked the time on his watch. 8:42 am. Less than an hour into his shift and he was seriously contemplating closing up and telling his boss where to shove it. But he couldn’t do that, and he knew it. As much as this job sucked, it was the only one he could find in the city that allowed him enough time off to travel back home a few times a year, so he needed to keep it.

He picked up an old blue rag and began to wipe down an espresso machine when the bell above the door chimed. The cheerful sound signaled to Luke the first customer of the day. He looked up to the door and saw a girl walking through it, a few stray snowflakes following her inside before she was able to close the door behind her.

Her shoulder length brown hair was contained beneath a grey beanie that matched the scarf that she held tightly around her neck. Luke watched her shiver slightly as she stood in front of the closed door, the heat of the coffee shop warming her from the Christmas snow storm that had been raging outside since the night before. Her eyes closed for a moment as she took a deep breath before slowly unwrapping the scarf around her neck and removing it.

She opened her eyes and directed her attention to Luke behind the counter. He felt his breath catch in his throat as she smiled at him from across the room. She pulled off her black mittens, shoving them into the pocket of her coat as she made her way to the counter. Luke suddenly became very aware of the coffee stain on his blue apron and the fact that he’d barely put any effort into getting ready this morning. He ran a hand through his long, blond curls in an attempt to tame them, even though he knew that they always had a mind of their own.

“Morning.” Luke offered with a smile as she got closer to him. Her own smile grew as she greeted him in kind.

“Good morning!” Her voice was soft and sweet, almost like a song in a way that Luke couldn’t quite put his finger on. “You have no idea how glad I am that you’re open today.” She sighed, pulling her wallet from the bag slung over her shoulder.

“Yeah, I guess someone needs to keep the people caffeinated, even on Christmas.” Luke laughed. She giggled along with him, the corners of her lips pulling up just slightly more than they already were. He couldn’t help but to notice that her giggle was somehow even prettier than her speaking voice. The way it fell so easily from her lips made him want to hear it over and over again. “So, uh, what can I get ya?” He asked, his hands gripping the sides of the register a little too tight.

“Uh, just a venti latte, please.” She answered, looking away from him to the wallet in her hand. He rang in her order and read out her total. He pulled his hand away from hers quickly, nearly dropped her money when she handed it to him. She smiled at him again as he handed her change back to her.

“And a name?” Luke asked her, picking up a cup and pulling a marker from the pocket of his apron.

She looked over her shoulder to the empty coffee shop with another giggle. “Are you afraid you’re gonna give it to the wrong person?” She asked, raising her eyebrows as she faced him again.

He felt his cheeks go warm at her question. A small chuckle fell from his lips as he dropped his chin to his chest. “Sorry,” He said. “It’s a habit.”

“It’s fine.” She told him, waving her hand. “It’s Ariel.”

Fuck, even her name is pretty. Luke smiled to himself as he jotted her name on the side of the paper cup. She removed her beanie, running a hand through her hair as she walked to the other end of the counter.

“So, how’d you get stuck working Christmas?” She asked him, leaning over the counter and resting on her elbows as she watched him prepare her drink.

Luke shrugged his broad shoulders, not looking up from his task as he answered. “I usually end up working holidays because I don’t have any family here in the states to spend them with.”

Ariel put a hand over her heart as she pouted her lips. “Oh my, that is so sad.” She sighed. “I mean, my family is far away, too. But I can usually get back to visit them for holidays.”

“Are you from out of town?”

“Oh, yeah.” She laughed. “A tiny little town near Boston.”

Luke hadn’t been expecting that. He finished her drink, capping it before sliding it across the counter to her waiting hands. “So why aren't you there for Christmas?”

This time, it was her turn to shrug. “I'm, like, extra poor this year.” Luke raised his eyebrows as he nodded, that was definitely a struggle that he understood. “Plus, I'm Jewish.”

“Mazel tov!” Luke exclaimed, throwing his hands up next to his face.

Ariel dropped her face, looking down at the paper cup in her hands as she laughed out loud. “Do you even know what that means?” She questioned when she looked back up at him.

“I, uhh…” Luke stammered for a moment, fiddling with the edge of his apron before answering with a giggle. “No, I don't.”

She laughed again at his answer. Her lips pulling up high on her cheeks, showing off her teeth as she smiled up at him. The sound filled Lukes ears and he felt his chest swell with pride that he was able to pull such a beautiful sound from her.

“So how’d you end up in Chicago?” Luke asked once her laugh had subsided.

“School, originally. Ended up dropping out, though.” She answered with a smile. “How about you?”

“Oh, I wanted to be in a band. It wasn’t working out back home, so I packed up and moved here a few years ago. I was completely convinced I’d go back a home a rockstar.” He finished, laughing at himself and his own naivety.

“I take it the band thing didn’t work out?”

“Kind of did for a while, actually.”

“So what happened? Why aren’t you a rockstar?” She asked him as she stood up straight.

“Egos.” He answered simply. “Mine and theirs. They’re still great guys, we just didn’t get on well.”

Ariel nodded, bringing her cup to her lips. Luke watched as she cautiously sipped the hot drink. Her eyes fell closed again and Luke took a moment to appreciate the way the lights in the shop caught the slight shimmer in her nude eyeshadow.

“Well, at least you’re still young.” She told him as she pulled the cup away from her lips, taking a step back from the counter. “There’s still time, rockstar.” She winked at him before turning away. Luke felt his stomach tie itself into about fifteen different knots at the sight.

She took a few steps away from him, stopping at the nearest table and setting her drink down. She began to shrug her coat from her shoulders, revealing an emerald green sweater that hugged her frame beautifully. “Mind if I hang out here for a bit?” She asked. “It’s like the end of the world out there.”

“Fine by me.” Luke answered with a smile. She hung her coat on the rack by the door and sat down at her table, pulling a book from her bag and opening it. The pair were silent for a while. Nothing but the sounds of people outside, snow crunching beneath boots, and the playlist of Christmas songs playing on the speakers around the coffee shop.

The silence was somehow comfortable and unbearably awkward all at once. At least, that was how it felt from Luke’s point of view. Ariel sat at her table, her legs crossed beneath it as she read her book and sipped at her coffee. Since he was on the clock, Luke was trying to find something to fill his time on the off chance that his boss made an appearance. He picked up a broom from the back room and walked into the shop.

“Is this your way of telling me to beat it?” Ariel asked with a smile when he started to sweep up.

“What? No, of course not.” Luke stammered. Why was he so eager for her to stay? He didn’t know her. Hell, they’d barely even spoken since she walked in half an hour ago. “Just, uh, trying to keep busy.”

“Ya know, if you wanted to take a break, I promise I won’t tell on you.”

Once again, Luke felt his cheeks heat up as she spoke to him. He smiled as he leaned the broom against a wall and walked over to where she sat. He put his hand on the back of the chair across from her. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all.” She answered. She placed her bookmark into the spine of her book before closing it and setting it down on the table between them. “I’m sorry, but I have to ask. Where is home for you? I’ve been trying to place your accent and I just can’t figure it out.”

“Australia.” He answered with a chuckle. “West Sydney, specifically.”

“Really? You don’t sound very much like Steve Irwin.”

“Ouch.” Luke whined, putting his hand over his heart and furrowing his brows.

“Sorry!” Ariel said, reaching across the table and placing her hand on his arm.

Luke’s smile quickly grew to a toothy grin as he looked down to where her hand rested delicately on his wrist. “It’s fine. Every time I go home all I hear from my family is that I need to move back because I’m getting an American accent.” Ariel laughed at him. She removed her hand from his wrist and he instantly felt less whole at the loss of her soft touch.

“I don’t know if I’d say it’s quite an American accent.” She said, picking up her cup and bringing it to her lips again. She took a long drink, licking her lips as she set the cup back on the table between them. “But then again, I never got to hear your accent before so who am I to say?”

“If you’ve ever been to Sydney, especially West Sydney, you’ll know that they definitely don’t sound like this.”

“I haven’t been. But I’d love to visit someday, when money isn’t so tight.” She sighed. “I want to see the world. All of it. Every nook and cranny of the every beautiful city the world has to offer.”

“You sound like me.” He said with a grin. “That was one reason I wanted to be in a band, actually. See the world, meet new people, experience new cultures.”

“Well, if the band thing works out, I volunteer to be your merch girl. You don’t even have to pay me.” She said with a laugh as she pushed some hair from her face. “Just take me around the world.”

“Deal.” He answered. “And hey, even if the band doesn’t work out, I’d still happily be your tour guide around Sydney when you go.”

“Well, how can I say no to being shown around a foreign country by a native?”

“I guess you can't.” He told her with a beaming grin.

Just as Ariel was about to speak again, the bell above the door chimed for a second time. Both Luke and Ariel jumped at the sudden interruption. A middle aged man in a long tan coat walked in, shutting the door quickly.

“Storm of the century out there.” The older man said as he walked to the counter. Luke stood from his seat and walked to the back of the counter to help the man. He placed his order, paid, and turned back to Ariel. “Have you been out there?” He asked her.

“Yeah, a little bit earlier. Been here about 45 minutes, though.”

Luke finished pouring his coffee, capping it and sliding it across the counter in same fashion he'd done for Ariel. The man thanked Luke and started towards the door. “If you'll take a nickel's worth of free advice, I'd stay in here as long as he will let you.” He told her, nodding his head to Luke who still stood behind the counter. “It's getting worse out there by the minute.” Ariel smiled at him and offered a silent nod as he opened the door and walked back into the storm.

“Looks like you might be stuck with me for a while, rockstar.” Ariel said as the door closed.

“Could be worse.” Luke shrugged. “At least I've got some company. Hey, you want a refill while I'm back here? On the house.”

“I will never say no to free coffee.” Ariel answered, smiling as she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear once again.

Luke returned her smile quickly before turning his attention to making her a fresh drink. He found himself being extra careful while he made it. For some reason, he was sure that if this drink wasn't exactly perfect, she'd leave before he wanted her to. And he just couldn't have that.

He finished the drink and set it in front of her, picking up her cold drink and throwing it away for her. He decided that he needed to find ways to stay busy again. He began wiping down already sparkling machinery and filling cream dispensers. The pair continued talking while Luke cleaned the entire shop.

They discussed their childhoods, laughing together at notable differences between growing up in America versus Australia. “Wait,” Ariel said, leaning forward, her eyes closing as she shook her head in an attempt to make sense of something Luke had just said. “They really feed that to children?”

“What?” Luke laughed. “It's just buttered bread with sprinkles.”

“I'm sorry, but that sounds disgusting.” She told him, laughing with him as she sat back in her seat. “I can't believe kids would even eat that.”

“Don't knock it till ya try it.”

“Fair enough. Maybe I'll pick up some sprinkles on my next shopping trip.”

A few hours passed when suddenly, Luke's stomach growled loudly from where he was on a step ladder cleaning windows. He checked his watch, it was after 1 p.m. It was definitely much later than he normally ate, but he hadn't even noticed that he was hungry. He was too preoccupied with Ariel and their conversations. Had she really been here for nearly four hours already?

“Hungry, rockstar?” Ariel laughed from her table as she looked up at him.

“Starving, apparently.”

“Good, because I am, too.” She smiled. “Are any restaurants even open today?”

“The chinese place down the street definitely is.” Luke answered. He stepped down from the step ladder and pulled his phone from the pocket of his apron. The part of his brain that never quite left high school wanted to ask Ariel for her number. He pushed the thought away and instead, opened his messages and began to text his order to Eric, the delivery boy from the restaurant. “Wait, you like Chinese, right?”

“Love it.”

Luke’s smile grew as he continued to type out his usual order. “What do you want?” He asked, finally looking up at her.

“Sesame chicken.”

“Rice?”

“Fried, please.”

Luke added her order to the end of his text before tacking on a few emojis and hitting send. “Should be 10 minutes, give or take.” He told her as he replaced his phone in his apron pocket and took his seat across the table from her.

“So,” Ariel started as he sat down. “Am I supposed to keep calling you ‘rockstar’ forever, or are you gonna tell me your name?”

“Luke.” He answered, his teeth showing as he laughed at her. “But if you want to keep calling me rockstar, I’m not going to stop you.”

“No,” She said, her smile growing. “I think I like Luke.” He would conservitavely guess that he’d heard his name approximately 800 billion times in his twenty-two years of life, but hearing Ariel say it for the first time? Easily one of the top five greatest sounds he had ever heard. Even if he’d tried, Luke wouldn’t have been able to contain the joyful grin that quickly covered his entire face.

A few minutes later the door to the coffee shop opened, bringing a huge gust of wind and a man carrying two plastic take out bags with it. Luke stood from his seat and walked towards the man, taking the bags from him and setting them in front of Ariel. He pulled his wallet from his back pocket and started to pull a few bills from it.

“Man, you know mom won’t let you pay.” The guy laughed, shoving Lukes hand away.

“It’s been like three years, she’s gotta let me pay eventually.”

“No, she likes you better than any of us. You’re good for life.” He said, laughing. His eyes swept over the shop before landing on Ariel. “I take it you’re the sesame chicken?” He asked with a smile.

“How’d ya know?”

“I’ve never known this one to get anything other than sweet and sour pork.”

“Interesting.” Ariel said, nodding her head. “I’ll have to keep that in mind.”

“Okay, okay. If we’re done discussing my diet, I’d like to eat now.” Luke commented as he pulled out his chair. “You hanging out?” He asked Eric, turning to look at him as he began to pull take out boxes from the bags.

“Can’t. Mom needs me back to run more deliveries. See ya.” He answered, taking a few steps towards the door.

“Later.” Luke nodded, still unbagging your food as Eric stepped through the door. “Hope you like egg rolls. Looks like Mama Kim hooked us up.” He laughed as he opened a box containing at least a dozen eggs rolls.

“Mama Kim, huh?” Ariel asked as she reached across the table to pluck an egg roll from the box.

“Yeah,” Luke laughed. “I met Eric like my second day in the states and his parents more or less adopted me. Good thing, too. I'd have starved to death if she didn't insist on sending me home with a months worth of food every other day.”

“She sounds sweet.” Ariel said with a smile.

“Yeah, she's the best.” Luke told her as he took a bite of his egg roll.

As they were finishing their lunch, Lukes phone began ringing from his apron pocket. He pushed his chair away from the table as he pulled his phone from his pocket. “It’s my boss.” He said to her, taking a few steps away from the table as he answered the call.

Ariel tried not to listen, sure that whatever the call was about was none of her business anyway. Instead, she focused her attention on cleaning up the takeout boxes that were scattered across the table. She dumped the boxes into a trash can next to the door just as Luke was hanging up his call.

“Did you get in trouble for sitting down at work all day?” She asked as she walked back over to him.

“No,” Luke laughed as he replaced his phone into his apron pocket. “He just wanted to know if we’d had any customers today. Told me to close up shop.”

Was he seeing things or did her smile actually drop a little?

“So you’re finally kicking me out, huh?”

“Well, technically my boss is making me kick both of us out.” He answered.

Ariel returned to her seat and started to pack up her bag. “It’s been really nice hanging out with you today, Luke.” She told him, smiling up at him from where she was stuffing her book into her bag.

“Yeah,” He returned her smile. “Today definitely turned out to be more fun than I thought it would be. I’m glad you came in.” He was searching every corner of his mind to find ways to make her stay just a little longer as he walked to the window to turn off the neon ‘OPEN’ sign. As he flipped the switch, the opening notes to Baby, It’s Cold Outside began to play over the shops sound system.

Ariel gasped from her seat and put her hand over her chest. Luke spun around quickly to look at her, caught off guard by the sudden sound. “I love this song.” She sighed, her eyes falling closed as she began to sway in her seat.

This is it. This was his chance and he knew he had to take it, or risk kicking himself in the ass for the rest of his life for letting it slip away. He took a few slow steps towards her, praying she would respond well to his plan. He listened to the song and grinned to himself as he watched her mouth along with the words.

I really can't stay.

This is it. This is his moment. He took a deep breath as the woman singing finished her line.

“But, baby, it’s cold outside.” He sang. His voice was quiet, too afraid of her reaction to sing much louder than a whisper. Ariel’s eyes shot open, her smile wider than it had been all day as she looked at him. He swore that her brown eyes actually glowed as she chimed in.

“I've got to go away.”

“But, baby, it’s cold outside.” He sang again, slightly louder this time as he put his hand out to her.

“This evening has been so very nice.” She sang back to him as she took his hand and stood in front of him.

“I’ll hold your hands, they’re just like ice.”

“My mother will start to worry.”

“Beautiful, what's your hurry?” Luke placed a cautious hand behind her back, just below her waist.

“My father will be pacing the floor.”

“Listen to the fireplace roar.” Her smile grew along with his as he started to move with her.

The pair spun in slow circles as they continued to sing the classic holiday tune to each other. At some point, Ariels free hand found its way to Lukes shoulder. This was working. He moved his hand to the middle of her back, pulling her into him just slightly.

Before he knew it, the song was coming to an abrupt end. He’d never realized how short of a song it actually is. The last lines of the song played, both of them singing the words to each other, and before he could stop himself, Luke was leaning in. His eyes closed as his face inched closer to hers. He hoped he looked cool, but every single alarm in his body was going off in that moment. The instant his lips met hers, though, all of them silenced.

It was a quick kiss, quicker than he would have liked. But it was beautiful. It was perfect. It was everything that Luke always thought a first kiss should have been. Luke felt her smiling as his lips landed on hers.

Luke broke the kiss, pulling away first. He opened his eyes to see her grinning up at him. A lock of her brown hair had fallen into her eyes. He moved his hand from her back to tuck the fallen piece behind her ear, earning an even wider grin from her as he rested his hand on her neck just below her ear.

“Smooth move, rockstar.” She whispered to him as she leaned forward, her lips pursing as she kissed him again.

~~~

As you can see, this is the first part of a Holiday Series! I’m really excited about all of these and I cannot wait to post all of them! Can’t wait to hear what you all think of this and the rest of the series.

Happy Holidays!

Tag List: @crownedbyluke @thecashtonexpress @blue-skies-are-alright @lmao5sosimagines @therainydays4 @rosecth @thesoundsyoumake @kinglyhemmings @a-little-international @harryandthelesbians @lukescherrypie @ashotofblues @youngblood199456 @rexorangecouny @cashton-queen @tothemoonwithclifford @babylon-uncrowned @asht0ns-world @abitloudforanaccousticset

#luke hemmings fanfiction #luke hemmings fluff #luke hemmings holiday fanfiction #luke hemmings christmas fanfiction #luke hemmings coffee shop au #5 seconds of summer fanfiction #5 seconds of summer fluff #5 seconds of summer holiday fanfiction #5 seconds of summer christmas fanfiction #5 seconds of summer coffee shop au #5sos fanfiction #5sos fluff #5sos holiday fanfiction #5sos christmas fanfiction #5sos coffee shop au #my words #holiday series

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in78weeks-blog · 5 years

Text

Solo Trip to Bogota

Nervous about my first international solo trip, I landed at the El Dorado International Airport and worked up the courage to use my very limited and very broken Spanish to acquire a SIM card, exchange some cash, and grab a taxi to head to my hostel. I gave the driver the address to the hostel, which he did not recognize, and after telling him it was in the La Candelaria neighborhood and setting my google maps GPS to direct us to the hostel, I let out a sigh of relief. While he was driving me to my hostel and occasionally getting lost, I directed him by telling him “derecha aqui”, “izquierda a la calle once”, etc. With 15 minutes remaining on our drive to the hostel, I looked down at my phone to the terrifying realization that my phone only had 9% battery remaining. I thought to myself, “if my phone battery dies now, I have no way of knowing where to go, and neither does my driver”. Luckily, I made it to my hostel with 3% battery remaining, and again, I let out an even deeper sign of relief.

I put my belongings down in my aesthetic and quaint hostel, plugged in my phone, and let my mind rest. As I was hanging out on the hammock in the shared space, figuring out my plan for the rest of the evening, two guys arrived at the hostel named Colin and Luke. Talking to Colin for a bit, I learned that he was a coffee roaster for a small company based out of Chicago.

I started to wander toward the Botero Museum, but got distracted by the large crowds down the street. I wandered past artists selling their handmade jewelry and handwoven bags and into a wide open square covered in pigeons. Looking at google maps, I realized I had wandered into Simon Bolivar Square - a popular tourist destination. I sat in the middle of the square and watched as vendors went around trying to sell jewelry, selfie sticks, fruit, and corn kernels - used to feed the pigeons in the square. I scanned the square and laughed as tourists tried to stay still and pose for a picture as pigeons flocked to their corn kernel-filled hands.

After being approached many times by vendors and being satisfied with the photos I captured in the square, I made my way back up the street to the Botero Museum. Fernando Botero is a famous Colombian artist, made known for his unique painting style of chubby subjects. In addition to artwork from Botero, the museum was also scattered with paintings of Picasso, Monet, and Degas.

The Museum was closing soon so I decided to head back toward the hostel to find a place to eat. I stumbled in on a restaurant called “De Una Travel Bar” and used my best Spanish to order myself a meal and two local Colombian beers. Satisfied with my first meal in Colombia, I made my way back to the hostel, hoping to meet and spend time with some of my hostel mates.

Oscar, who was originally from Sydney, Australia was already hanging out on a hammock in the common room and he was quick to start up a conversation with me. Soon after, Shaun and Emily, a couple from Perth, Australia joined us in the shared space. Emily was originally from the states but recently moved to Perth to be with Shaun. Later, Marcel joined us.

We went around the table and answered the following questions: How long have you been traveling, how long are you in Colombia, where have you been and where are you going? Most of the people around the table had some wild travel stories, and had been on the road for quite some time. I was the odd one out, admitting that I was only in town for the weekend.

We quickly exhausted the conversation about the logistics of each of our travel plans, and began talking about the different places we call home. I was most curious about Emily and Shaun’s story, of how Emily who grew up in the United States learned to live in Australia, whose seasons are opposite to what she was used to. Curious about what mysteries lie on the opposite side of the planet, I eagerly listened to the stories that Emily, Shaun and Oscar had to share about Australia.

Soon it was getting dark so we made plans to go to a nice coffee shop in the morning and went to bed.

I’m not sure if it was the sun or the sound of cars driving by on the cobblestone roads just outside of the window that woke me up in the morning. Coffee is one of my big passions so I sprang out of bed, excited to get going to this nice coffee shop other hostel mates were buzzing about. We gathered our crew and walked to the highly aesthetic coffee shop down the street.

Luckily, this cafe had a cupping (coffee tasting) option where they brought out three different coffees in little taster cups. In addition to the coffee, we also each ordered avocado toast. As the food came to our table, we were blown away at how beautiful and delicious the breakfast looked and joked about how much this delicious breakfast would have cost in our respective countries.

Marcel, David and I planned to do the “Bogota Graffiti Tour”, a local walking tour that took us around the streets of Bogota so we could learn about the graffiti of the region, the history of the artist, and the political and social message behind the artwork. As a solo female traveler, I was nervous about venturing too far from the comforts and safety of the tourist areas, but this tour was a great way for me to comfortably explore more of the city of Bogota without risking my safety.

Our tour guide was very informed about the graffiti in the city, as he was a graffiti artist himself. He explained that many of the pieces in the city were politically motivated and made me appreciate the power of art in cultural and social movements. In addition to having the opportunity to learn about the public artwork, I was also glad to have the opportunity to witness the daily lives of the local people.

Unlike any North American city I have ever been in, I felt as though each of the neighborhoods in Bogota were wearing the emotions of the people that resided in them. In the urban, residential, and economically unstable areas where the effect of the government is palpable, the political and social frustrations of the people manifested in powerful murals that could be found along every main street. In the La Candelaria neighborhood, home to tourism and the international youths, the walls were vibrant, fun and whimsical. The political messages did not adorn the walls of this neighborhood as to not upset or confuse the guests. In the business district of the city, the walls resembled that of a North American metropolitan center - plain, simple as if trying to keep up with other technologically advanced cities.

After two hours of walking around the city of Bogota in the heat of the day, we returned to the La Candelaria neighborhood and found a restaurant with local food. We all ordered the meal of the day, which was a humble coriander soup, rice, salad and a single fried plantain. It was exactly what I needed before returning to the hostel to recharge for the remainder of the day.

I took an hour to recharge - both myself and my phone, and soon after ventured out on the streets of La Candelaria on my own, exploring the architectural details of this colorful town. The lights and shadows of the day played well on the brightly painted walls and the warm sun and Latin American humidity was a treat for my dry and weathered skin.

The sun was beginning to set so I took toward Cerro Monserrate - the mountain that towers over the city of Bogota. I was told that the view from this mountain top would put into perspective the size of the Latin American metropolis. There are three ways to reach the summit - a 2,000 ft vertical hike up the side of the mountain, a cable car (which was currently undergoing repairs), and a funicular - a train like vehicle that slowly trails up the side of the mountain. I didn’t have the proper attire for a hike so I opted out of the active option, which left me with a ride up the funicular. As we climbed to the top of the mountain, I started to grasp the size of the city of Bogota.

Latin America is heavily influenced by the Catholic Church and the city of Bogota is no different. At the top of Monserrate Mountain was a giant Catholic Church that was built to honor God in the highest and most visible place in the city. Looking across to the neighboring mountain, there was a gigantic status of Jesus Christ much like the famous “Christ the Redeemer” statue in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil though this one was not available to the public.

I was expecting to meet up with David, Marcel, and Bella at sunset so I killed some time by venturing around the tourist market while I waited. Time after time I turned down the vendors trying to convince me to buy their souvenir trinkets.

About half an hour before sunset, David arrived and together we looked out on the city in silence. Having just met and both of us being relatively introverted, we didn’t have much to talk about. It brought me joy to look around and see all kinds of people and groups enjoying the sunset on this particular evening. Next to us was a very intimate and well-dressed couple, and if I had to guess, this was one of many romantic stops for the evening. Families with crying babies huddled together s the temperature began to drop. International groups of high schoolers couldn’t contain their excitement to be in a foreign country with their 25 “closest” classmates. And then there was David and me, silently appreciating each other’s company without necessarily needing to fill it with words.

A couple minutes before the sun tipped below the mountains in the distance, Bella showed up with her signature bubbly personality and Marcel quietly tagged along behind her. We enjoyed the final moments of the daylight and as the temperature quickly dropped, we started back toward the funicular and down the mountainside.

We went to a restaurant near the hostel called Gato Gris, another recommendation from a fellow traveler. It was a nicer, more expensive restaurant, but it was my last night in Bogota so I decided to let myself splurge. We were seated in a tiny room in the upstairs corner of the restaurant and I admired the decor in this space. The first thing I realized was that an old door had been fashioned into a dining table, and the space was dimly lit with a uniquely boho light fixture.

As we sat around the table waiting to order, I was surprised at how much our time together was dominated by silence. As a group of travelers with a royal collection of unique experiences, I was expecting our time together to be filled with conversation, jumping in and out of stories and never finding enough time to tell the best stories from each of our travels. Instead, our group tended toward silence, over dinner, while waiting in line to buy tickets for the next tourist attraction, and this uncanny silence took me by surprise.

I woke up bright and early in anticipation for my last day in Colombia. Looking around at the other bunks in my room, it was only me and one other person in the sleeping quarters, and everyone else had continued on with their travels. I was on my own for my last half day in Bogota so I decided to go and explore as many coffee shops as I could. Unfortunately, it was Sunday which meant that most of the cafes were closed, but I had a plan to visit two different ones.

I returned to the cafe we went to the day before - Azahar cafe and in my best Spanish, I ordered another cupping plate, but asked for different coffees from the ones I had the day before. The barista seemed to understand my request and brought me different flavors from the ones I had the previous day. I enjoyed the avocado toast from the day before so I decided to order that as well. After filling up on breakfast, I bought a bag of coffee beans to bring home and went on my way.

I stopped in at the Simon Bolivar square again to see it in a different scenery. Since it was Sunday, there was an ongoing Catholic mass that I got to sit in on for a couple minutes. Though many elements of my faith align with that of the Catholic church, the liturgy and catholic priests performing ceremonial acts made me feel very far from God.

I only had a couple hours remaining so I began to wander over to the next coffee shop. I located the coffee shop on google maps but was unable to find the storefront anywhere. Again in my best Spanish, I asked the security guard of the library if they had any idea where this coffee shop was. In very fast Spanish and some vague hand motions, they directed me into the library, through the hallway and around several corners. After asking several other guards inside the building, I eventually found my way to the very kind cash register who made me a fresh cup of coffee and helped me pick out two more bags of beans to bring home.

I sat on the couch in the silent library hallway, sipping on my coffee when a stranger joined me and began to talk in very fast Spanish while pointing at my camera. I regretfully told him that I didn’t speak Spanish “lo siento, no hablo Espanol” and he lit up and responded in very good English “Oh, do you speak English”?

He told me that he was planning on buying a camera but wasn’t sure what kind he wanted. I walked him through different types of cameras, the different models available, but after a short while, I realized that this all seemed to be going over his head, and I wasn’t sure if that was because of the language barrier or the content of our conversation.

It was time to head back home, and a part of me was glad. I felt like my mind was being pulled in so many directions and I had so much to think about.

On the flight home I had a lot to think about. As my first international solo trip, I carried with me excitement, and fear, and had a mind full of doubts. Being able to explore Bogota with the company of other foreign travelers, I felt much more at ease about my own safety, but felt like sticking to my comfortable, English-speaking bubble limited me from truly experiencing all that Bogota had to offer. Spending time with these carefree, fearless travelers unexpectedly stirred up emotions about a topic I feel so passionately about - the purpose and intention of travel. I once envied the boldness and bravery of people who choose to put their lives on hold to travel the world for several months, but after spending time with these people, I was confronted with the reality of this glamorized life choice.

I still have much to process about my reasons for traveling, and hope to one day be able to develop cohesive thoughts about the value of modern day travel.

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citysite217 · 3 years

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itsfinancethings · 4 years

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Recalling the first years of Pride celebrations in the early 1970s, photographer Stanley Stellar remembers how all the energy was concentrated in a small area of Christopher Street in New York City’s West Village. At the time, it was the rare neighborhood where gay people could go and meet in public, and Pride parades operated at a neighborhood-level size too — a far cry from the estimated five million people who attended last July’s World Pride event in New York City, the largest LGBTQ celebration in history.

“It started as a small social thing,” Stellar, now 75, recalls. “There were marchers too — very brave souls with signs, like Marsha P. Johnson, who inspired all of us. When people would taunt us, cars would drive by and spit at us, yell at us constantly, Marsha would be there, looking outrageous and glorious in her own aesthetic, and she would say ‘pay them no mind.’ That’s what the ‘P’ is for, is ‘pay them no mind, don’t let them stop us.’”

That unstoppable spirit is now marking its 50th anniversary: the first Pride parades took place in the U.S. in 1970, a year after the uprising at the Stonewall Inn that many consider to be the catalyst for the modern LGBTQ liberation movement. In a year when large gatherings are prevented by the coronavirus and many Pride events have been cancelled or postponed, over 500 Pride and LGBTQIA+ community organizations from 91 countries will participate in Global Pride on June 27. But, over the decades, Pride parades have evolved in a way that goes beyond the number of participants — and, having photographed five decades worth of them, Stellar has seen that evolution firsthand. “That was the epicenter of the gay world,” he says of the early years of Pride.

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The Stonewall Uprising took place over a series of nights at the end of June 1969. Although the LGBTQ community had pushed back against police discrimination in several other smaller occasions in the late 1960s in cities like San Francisco and L.A., Stonewall cut through in an unprecedented way.

Courtesy of Stanley StellarChristopher Street, NYC, 1980s

“People were ready for an event like Stonewall, and they had the communication and the planning in place to start talking right away,” says Katherine McFarland Bruce, author of Pride Parades: How a Parade Changed the World. Activist groups in L.A. and Chicago, which also held Pride Parades in 1970, immediately made connections with counterparts in New York to plan actions around the anniversary. Where in L.A., the spirit was more about having fun and celebrating, Bruce says, New York was planned more as an action to connect activists. “We have to come out into the open and stop being ashamed, or else people will go on treating us as freaks,” one attendee at the parade in New York City told the New York Times in 1970. “ This march is an affirmation and declaration of our new pride.”

By 1980, Pride parades had taken place around the world in cities like Montreal, London, Mexico City and Sydney. But as that decade got underway, the tone of the events shifted, as the tragedies of the AIDS crisis became central to actions and demonstrations. By this time, Stellar had a large circle of queer friends and started making more photos of the community to document their every day lives. “I really felt like I owed it to us, as in the queer ‘us,’ to start just photographing who I knew and who I thought was worthy of being remembered,” says Stellar, who has an upcoming digital exhibition hosted by Kapp Kapp Gallery, with 10% of proceeds going to support the Marsha P. Johnson Institute.

To Bruce, Pride shows how the LGBTQ community has been able to consistently demand action and visibility around the issues of the day.

Where in the 1980s, groups organized around the AIDS crisis, the 1990s saw greater media visibility for LGBTQ people in public life, leading to more businesses starting to come on board for Pride participation. While the Stonewall anniversary had long provided the timing for annual Pride events, President Bill Clinton issued a proclamation in 1999 that every June would be Gay and Lesbian Pride Month in the U.S. (President Barack Obama broadened the definition in 2008, when he issued a proclamation that the month of June be commemorated as Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transgender Pride Month.)

The early 2000s then saw greater campaigning for same-sex marriage. During the summer of 2010, Bruce did contemporary research for her book, attending six different Pride parades across the U.S., including one in San Diego, home to the nation’s largest concentration of military personnel, where campaigning was concentrated on repealing the “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy. “I think Pride is a vehicle for LGBT groups to make the issues of the day heard both in their own community and in the wider civic community to which they belong,” Bruce reflects — adding that in recent years, campaigns for racial justice and transgender rights have become more prominent.

Courtesy of Stanley StellarKnights Wrestling Team, Hudson Street, NYC, 1990

Yet as these intersectional injustices have risen to the forefront of public consciousness, several aspects of major, long-running Pride parades have come under greater scrutiny — returning Pride, in some ways, to its protest-driven origins.

Some LBGTQ activists and community organizers have criticized the corporatization of Pride, as parades look to businesses for sponsorship to help with the financial demands of rapidly growing crowds. Others question whether any deep-rooted action is behind the rainbow flags. “What happens on July 1 when our seniors can’t get housing, and kids are being thrown out of their homes, and both trans women and cis women are being murdered in the street? Have that rainbow mean something 365 days out of the year,” Ellen Broidy, a member of the Gay Liberation Front and co-founder of the first annual Gay Pride March in 1970, told TIME last year.

Activists in New York and San Francisco have started their own separate parades to protest police and corporate involvement at the more established parades, given both historic and contemporary levels of disproportionate policing of Black and queer communities. And, responding to the lack of diversity in the biggest pride events, organizers have started events to create a safe space for the more marginalized among the LGBTQ community. In the U.K., support has swelled for U.K. Black Pride, which started in 2005 as a small gathering organized by Black lesbians to come together and share experiences. The event is now Europe’s largest celebration for LGBTQ people of African, Asian, Caribbean, Middle Eastern and Latin American descent, and is not affiliated with Pride in London, which has been criticized in the past for its lack of diversity.

Courtesy of Stanley StellarPride Parade 2016

For others, living in environments where being gay risks state-sanctioned violence and even death, Pride events perform a function similar to that seen in places like New York in the 1970s, as a vital lifeline. Recent years have seen communities in eSwatini, Trinidad and Tobago, and Nepal organize to hold their first Pride parades. Activist Kasha Jacqueline Nabageser organized the first Pride celebration in Uganda in 2012, after realizing she had been to several Prides around the world but never in her own country, where long-running laws left over from the colonial era criminalize same-sex activity. “For me, it was a time to bring the community together, and for them to know they are not alone, wherever they are hiding,” says Nabageser, adding that people who might not have seen themselves as LGBTQ activists came to the event, and later joined in with advocating for gay rights in the country. At least 180 people showed up to the first event in the city of Entebbe, and while the Ugandan government has attempted to shut subsequent Pride celebrations down, Nabageser sees the retaliation as a sign of the community’s power in its visibility.

“The more [the government] stops us, the more they make the community more angry, and more eager for Pride. For us, that has been a win,” she says, adding that the community is planning ways to celebrate safely in small groups amid the coronavirus pandemic. “One way or another, we will have Pride, and we have to continue the fight.”

#IFTTT #Blogger

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rafaelthompson · 4 years

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Are Freelance Baristas the Future of Coffee?—Part One

In this two-part series, we take a look at the pros and cons of being a freelance, short-term, or temporary barista.

BY MARK VAN STREEFKERK BARISTA MAGAZINE ONLINE

Imagine a future where baristas are encouraged to have guest shifts, short-term, or temporary work at a variety of different cafés. It’s not necessarily a new idea. Some cafés have guest shifts, barista swaps, or have former employees and friends cover a shift in a pinch. Furthermore, what would it look like to formally work in that capacity as a freelance barista? In this two-part series, we’re taking a look at the pros and cons of independent barista work. In today’s first part, we explore the benefits of being a freelance barista.

For Seattle-based barista Kyle Dols, freelance work is an exciting opportunity. “Being able to experience how different shops flow, meet new people, and experience new coffee recipes—more knowledge is always better, and broadens your horizons,” Kyle says. “I think freelancing is definitely a future for the business. … I think everyone gets less stuck in their ways and gets to experience more of the world we live in, and that’s fantastic.”

Kyle has over 13 years of experience in the coffee industry, including a stint working at MAVAM Espresso Machines. Becoming a barista and entering the competition world helped him overcome social anxiety. He also spent time performing burlesque while making latte art, which helped banish any remaining competition jitters. “I realized, ‘Hey, if you can take your pants off in front of a whole bunch of strangers hooting and hollering, latte art isn’t that big of a deal,” he says. “I made my own persona called Ruff Strutto the Double Shot Entendre. I looked it up and I’m the only burlesque person in history to bring an espresso machine on stage and make a latte while stripping.”

Freelance barista Kyle Dols at the beginning of his latte-pouring burlesque performance. Photo by De-Evolutionary Photography.

Kyle made a network of connections through the competition scene, which led to opportunities for short-term and temp work. For over a decade, Kyle hasn’t scoured Craigslist for barista positions; he’s texted—or been texted by—people he’s met through competition about job leads or open shifts. Often, he’s asked to cover a shift for someone who has called in sick, is out of town, or for baristas traveling to competitions.

One undeniably appealing fact of freelancing is the variety, and another is being exposed to many different coffee preparations. “I like to mix things up,” Kyle says. “There’s a whole world of things out there, and everyone’s doing stuff differently. It’s fascinating to see what is all out there. If I have time in my schedule, if anyone needs a shift covered, I’ll just jump on that.”

For those just starting out, Kyle recommends joining local barista groups on Facebook to find short-term jobs; you can even make a post introducing yourself and that you’re available for temp work. Depending on where you live, there are companies that specialize in short-term barista staffing. New York-based Cups and Need a Barista in Australia are two companies that connect independent baristas with gigs. Both companies affirm another positive aspect of freelance baristas—they help cafés.

Most independent coffee shops don’t keep any backup baristas on their payroll in the event of staffing shortages. Hiring a short-term, temp barista might make all the difference. Photo courtesy of Need a Barista.

Cups is a comprehensive resource for every part of the coffee industry, serving Philadelphia, Boston, Washington, D.C., Los Angeles, the Bay Area, Chicago, and Nashville. Their short-term staffing program coverthatshift.com is designed to help cafés. Emily Miller, director of accounts for Cups, reports that most of the cafés they work with are smaller shops. “Maybe they have a couple of locations, but they’re mostly at the level where they can’t afford to retain the full-time or part-time permanent staff to fill any possible gap in their schedule,” she says. “How we see it is we provide this service to be able to avoid having to add someone new to your payroll. Or I know shops do this, taking on the risk of paying someone under the table because they just need someone for a shift or two; we want to help avoid that risk for them.”

Alex Bray, founder and director of Need a Barista, says that working with coffee-specific staffing companies has its advantages. “Many on-demand services seem to have missed the opportunity of a positive relationship with the service providers on their platforms, but we love the baristas we work with, and we know how important they are to the industry,” he says. The company currently serves Melbourne, Sydney, Brisbane, and Adelaide.

Freelance barista work is a great way to fit in supplemental income into your schedule. Photo courtesy of Need a Barista.

Both Cups and Need a Barista vet their freelance baristas through on-boarding processes, then when there are open shifts available, they alert them through texts, which the baristas can choose to reply to or not. Baristas are independent contractors, which means accepting or rejecting a shift is completely up to their discretion.

“Once a barista is approved and goes live on the platform, they enter the ‘job pool’ for their city, and receive messages as soon as a shift in their area comes up. It’s as simple as replying YES to a shift notification. They then receive the shift details via SMS and email, and go and save the day!” says Alex.

Stay tuned for part two, which will address some of the downsides of being a freelance barista.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR Mark Van Streefkerk is Barista Magazine’s social media content developer and a frequent contributor. He is also a freelance writer, social media manager, and novelist based out of Seattle. If Mark isn’t writing, he’s probably biking to his favorite vegan restaurant. Find out more on his website.

The post Are Freelance Baristas the Future of Coffee?—Part One appeared first on Barista Magazine Online.

Are Freelance Baristas the Future of Coffee?—Part One published first on https://espressoexpertsite.tumblr.com/

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papermoonloveslucy · 7 years

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Lucy and Paul Winchell

S5;E4 ~ October 3, 1966

Synopsis

Lucy convinces ventriloquist Paul Winchell to appear at the Annual Banker's Banquet. When Winchell is running late, he asks Lucy to stop by and pick up his dummies. When she accidentally leaves them in a taxi the understudy 'dummy' has to go on – Lucy!

Regular Cast

Lucille Ball (Lucy Carmichael), Gale Gordon (Theodore J. Mooney)

Mary Jane Croft (Mary Jane Lewis) does not appear in this episode but Lucy does have a phone conversation with her.

Guest Cast

Paul Winchell (Himself) was born Paul Wilchinsky in 1922. Coming into the public eye in 1948, he became one of the most famous ventriloquists since Edgar Bergen. He hosted the enormously popular children's television show “Winchell-Mahoney Time” (1964-68) in which he shared the spotlight with Jerry Mahoney, one of his most popular characters. Sadly, in a legal dispute over the syndication rights to the show, all nearly 300 episodes were destroyed. Winchell is fondly remembered as the voice of Winnie the Pooh's pal Tigger and (later) Papa Smurf. He returns to “The Lucy Show” to play Doc Putnam in two linked episodes, “Main Street U.S.A.” (S5;E17) and “Lucy Puts Main Street on the Map” (S5;18), as well as doing two episodes of “Here's Lucy.” Surprisingly, Winchell was also an inventor who is credited with the artificial heart, among other innovations. He died in 2005.

Snitchy the Snail appeared with Winchell on “The Dick Van Dyke Show” six months before this “Lucy Show” appearance.

Tessie Mahoney was Jerry's platinum blonde cousin. She was named after Winchell's wife Tessie Nina Moore. Many accused Tessie of just being Jerry Mahoney in drag! Like Winchell, Tessie was from Brooklyn (and sounded it).

Jerry Mahoney (above left) was 'born' around 1935. He was Paul Winchell's co-host on “Winchell-Mahoney Time.” Jerry Mahoney was named after Winchell's grade-school teacher, who encouraged him to pursue ventriloquism. He was carved by Chicago-based figure maker Frank Marshall. The original Marshall-carved Jerry Mahoney is now 'living' at the Smithsonian Institution in Washington DC.

Knucklehead Smiff (above right) was 'born' in 1951, sculpted by Winchell from a copy of Jerry Mahoney's head. He co-starred with Winchell and Jerry Mahoney on “Winchell-Mahoney Time” and many other shows. Like Jerry Mahoney, he now resides at the 'Smiffsonian' Institution, although neither are currently accepting visitors!

Sid Gould (Show Announcer Voice) made more than 45 appearances on “The Lucy Show,” all as background characters. He also did 40 episodes of “Here’s Lucy.” Gould (born Sydney Greenfader) was Lucille Ball’s cousin by marriage to Gary Morton.

Gould performed this same kind of uncredited voice over introduction when “Lucy and George Burns” (S5;E1) performed together.

Marge, a voice on Lucy's intercom is uncredited, as is the female voice of the long distance operator. Marge was also the name of Lucy Carmichael's sister, a character seen in “Lucy's Sister Pays a Visit” (S1;E15).

Having Paul Winchell as a guest star was Lucille Ball's attempt to attract younger viewers to “The Lucy Show.”

Lucille Ball seems to be having occasional vocal problems during this episode.

Upon meeting Paul Winchell, Lucy says “I always read your column” mistaking him for journalist Walter Winchell. Paul Winchell quickly corrects her. She then says “I just get hysterical watching you and Charlie McCarthy” mistaking her for ventriloquist Edgar Bergen. Again, Winchell quickly corrects her. Walter Winchell (1897-1972) was the narrator of Desilu's “The Untouchables” and did the same function for a parody episode on “The Lucy Show” titled “Lucy the Gun Moll” (S4;E25). Edgar Bergen (1903-1978) appeared with Lucille Ball in the 1941 film Look Who's Laughing.

Lucy explains the bank's interest rates to Paul Winchell:

Lucy gave away toasters for new savings accounts back in Danfield when “Lucy Takes a Job at the Bank” (S2;E21).

In the previous episode, “Lucy the Bean Queen” (S5;E3) Lucy was redecorating her apartment. The reveal is delayed as this episode has no scenes taking place in Lucy’s home.

Mr. Mooney returns to the office after failing to find a celebrity to entertain at the Bankers Annual Banquet show. Bob Hope is doing a show for the Girl Scouts in Pismo Beach; Jack Benny is on a tour of Fort Knox; Dean Martin just had an operation to remove a brass rail pressing on his foot. All three of these performers have guest starred on “The Lucy Show.” Pismo Beach was thought to be a funny sounding name and was often used as a punch line in comedy. Fort Knox is an Army base in Kentucky where much of the nation's gold supply is held, so the reference trades on Jack Benny's characterization of a being a miser. Dean Martin's comic persona was that of a heavy drinker, so the reference is to the foot rail found at bars.

Lucy: Oh, gee, aren't there any other movie actors you could call? Mr. Mooney: Yes, yes, but they're all too busy running for public office.

Mr. Mooney is likely referring to Ronald Reagan, who ran for Governor of California in 1966 and won (after this episode aired). He held office until 1975 before setting his sights on the Presidency. In 1980 he was elected 40th President of the United States, an office he held until 1989. His screen acting career began in 1937 and lasted right up until he became Governor. Reagan appeared with Lucille Ball on two episodes of “The Ed Sullivan Show” in the mid-1950s.

Paul Winchell gets a phone call from someone named Gary asking him to play golf. This is probably and inside joke about Production Consultant (and Lucille Ball's husband) Gary Morton's fondness for playing golf.

In the opening scene at Paul Winchell's home, his character Irving Think (a mouse) is standing next to the telephone and Ozwald (with another figure's head attached) is propped up on the sofa. Ozwald was a commercially available doll resembling Humpty Dumpty that required the user to paint eyes and a nose on his or her own chin and hang the puppet upside down to create the character.

After Winchell offers to lend Lucy one of his dummies, Lucy and the episode enters (what Winchell later calls) “the twilight zone.” Winchell's most famous dummies, Jerry Mahoney and Knucklehead Smiff, become animated on their own, without any help from Winchell (although he may still be providing the voices live). It is a surreal moment for a show that tries to keep one foot in a somewhat farcical version of reality (except perhaps for “Lucy the Superwoman” S4;E26).

Lucy describes her boss as Diamond Jim Mooney after Winchell says he sounds like “the last of the big spenders.” James Buchanan Brady (1856–1917) was an American businessman, financier and philanthropist of the Gilded Age who had a particular affinity for precious stones and jewelry. His had a longtime relationship with actress and singer Lillian Russell. At one point, a TV biopic was planned starring Jackie Gleason with Lucille Ball as Russell, but it never came to pass.

Jerry Mahoney and Knucklehead Smiff have a food fight with spaghetti, eggs, and cream pies, something they often did on “Winchell-Mahoney Time.”

Mr. Mooney gets a telephone call from his boss, Mr. Cheever, a character who won't actually appear until the end of the season (played by Roy Roberts).

Although Lucille Ball was game to conquer any comic task the writers created for her, becoming an accomplished ventriloquist in a week was a tall order, so Mrs. Carmichael's lips move when manipulating the dummy she borrows from Paul Winchell as workplace therapy.

The Bankers Annual Banquet and Show is being held at the Beverly Ritz Hotel. Backstage there is a Fallout Shelter sign. After the Cuban Missile Crisis in 1961 (the beginning of the 'Cold War' between Russian and the United States), President Kennedy instructed that sturdy large-capacity structures be designated fallout shelters in case of attack. The yellow and black sign with three triangles inside a circle was used to alert the public that the building was designated such a structure. The saloon door scenery used in the silent movie sketch of “Lucy Meets Mickey Rooney” (S4;E18) is also there, although the painted side is turned away from the camera.

As Tessie Mahoney, Lucy suggests that they sing “Your Dime is My Dime” because they are performing for an audience of bankers. This is a pun on the song “My Time is Your Time” written by Leo Dance and Eric Little in 1924. It was made famous by Rudy Valle who guest starred as himself on “Lucy Takes a Cruise to Havana” (1957), the first “Lucy-Desi Comedy Hour,” and does so again in a 1970 episode of “Here's Lucy.”

Winchell (voicing Lucy / Tessie and himself) sings “What Does This Audience Want?” an original song written especially for this episode. The lyrics reference Milton Berle, who appeared in “Lucy Saves Milton Berle” (S4;E13).

Callbacks!

Ventriloquist Max Terhune played himself in "Ricky Loses His Temper” (ILL S3;E19). Terhune was a skilled vaudevillian who specialized in ventriloquism. On the Orpheum Circuit his dummy was known as Skully Null but was re-named Elmer Sneezeweed in the movies. Terhune was listed as one of the top ten money-making stars in Westerns for 1937, 1938 and 1939, appearing as Max ‘Alibi’ Terhune in a string of B-movie 'oaters.’

Actually a call forward – to the stage and film musical Chicago in which a woman (Roxie Hart) becomes a ventriloquist's doll during the musical number “We Both Reached for the Gun.” Here, Lucy takes on the persona of Tessie Mahoney, sitting on Paul Winchell's knee wearing a platinum blonde wig and pink dress singing “What Does This Audience Want?”

Blooper Alerts

Paul Winchell wants to open a savings account at Westland Bank. Although certainly this is within the bounds of reality, it is likely that a big star like Paul Winchell would have his finances administered by a Business Manager and would not be going to a local bank for a savings account.

Mr. Mooney's Dictaphone explodes just by Lucy touching it.

None of Lucy's file cabinets are labeled. With Lucy's wacky filing system it doesn't really matter anyway!

“Lucy Meets Paul Winchell” rates 4 Paper Hearts out of 5

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alexanderhxmiltrash · 7 years

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My long-winded and long-overdue Hamilton Chicago review

Here's the thing, I could go on for hours about why I love Hamilton and the impact I think it's going to have, but that's a post for another time (that will come, because I have a lot of emotions about this show). For the time being I want to offer my thoughts on the Chicago cast compared to both the original Broadway cast (OBC) and the understudies I had the privilege to see. (A word on some of my comparisons: I've seen Hamilton a few times, and at least three different actors in each role, so that's the basis of my Chicago review.)

Because of my ridiculous obsession with this show, I found myself in Chicago last week to see my favorite show yet again. I had the chance to see the show back in October doing opening weekend, and I was astounded to see how far this cast has come in five months. Don't get me wrong, they were phenomenal to begin with, but this most recent performance blew me away (pun intended).

(If you want the short and sweet version of my comments, check out the tl;dr before the cut.)

In the room where it happens

Seeing the Chicago cast twice was an interesting experience, because with the exception of the parts of Burr and Peggy Schuyler/Maria Reynolds, the cast was the same. The one constant, however, was the pure fire and energy this cast brought to the stage. They had a sort of bright-eyed-and-bushy-tailed feeling that made the excitement in their eyes infectious.

Looking at the Playbill, you can see the cast is overwhelmingly younger than their Broadway counterparts. For many of them, this is their first gig, so rather than having credits of former shows and national tours, they had thank you's to parents, teachers, and God, but that doesn't mean they looked inexperienced. On the contrary, they were an unbelievably talented bunch, but they took on the show with a sense of awe and appreciation for the chance to be a part of the phenomenon.

The New York show has an energy to be because it's been rehearsed for almost two years now and works like a well-oiled machine; Chicago has the drive of a group of people who are diving in head first on an adventure into the unknown together, and it's that ethos that gives you the feeling that you're seeing the American Revolution unfold before your eyes.

The rest of my review is under the cut, but here’s the TL;DR:

Miguel Cervantes was my favorite Hamilton yet. Hurricane. Was. Incredible.

Wayne Brady somehow managed to combine the best parts of a Tony award winner (Leslie Odom Jr) and my favorite Burr (Sydney Harcourt) for a Burr that was calculated, emotional,

Joshua Henry was a new take on Burr that was very entertaining.

Jonathan Kirkland as Washington was good, but not great and only seemed lackluster because the rest of the cast was so phenomenal.

Ari Afsar gets the "Most Improved" award because her performance in October left much to be desired, but in March she was a fiery woman and a wife who did not take any of Alexander's crap - basically exactly how I imagine Eliza Hamilton.

Alexander Gemignani is obviously a Broadway vet with plenty of experience. He made King George his own in such a hilarious and captivating way.

Karen Olivo is an actual goddess and gift to this world who slayed the hell out of Angelica.

Samantha Ware was a decent Peggy, but her Maria was insane. Everything about "Say No To This" felt like I was truly watching an affair unfold.

Amber Ardolino gave quite possibly the most provocative and sexy portrayal of Maria Reynolds I've seen.

Jose Ramos is such an adorable human being and his Laurens/Philip had such admiration and respect for Hamilton. It was beautiful.

Wallace Smith's Mulligan/Madison deviated the most from the OBC simply because he is so different from original Mulligan/Madison Oak Onaodowan, but in the most wonderful way. If Javier Munoz is the "sexy Hamilton", Wallace is the sexy Mulligan.

CHRIS FREAKING LEE. I have no words. With the right actor, Lafayette/Jefferson can really steal the show, and Chris is indeed one of those actors.

(If you’re looking on my review on a specific actor, all names are bolded for scan-ability.)

What's your name, man?

Miguel Cervantes was by far the best man they could have cast to play the titular role of Alexander Hamilton. In New York, Lin Manuel Miranda was obviously a fantastic lead because he wrote the show, and his successor Javier Munoz, often called the "sexy Hamilton," brought a certain charisma and charm to the role, but Miguel seemed to take the best parts of both of them and masterfully mesh them with his own expertise.

When we first meet Hamilton, he's seeing the world like an overly optimistic 19-year-old, and that's exactly what Miguel portrays from the second he steps on stage. What's interesting is how he grows as a character (and in age) throughout the show. Lin and Javi seemed older and almost jaded by the second act, but Miguel kept up the appearance of optimism while having someone else below the surface that you saw more when he interacted with those closest to him, his wife and Washington. In short, he was a politician.

Interestingly enough Joshua Henry as Aaron Burr had a similar quality of hiding his true feelings when interacting with Hamilton. In comparison, Leslie Odom Jr.'s Burr was very reserved, and you could almost see him seething with quiet resentment, so it was especially chilling when he challenged Hamilton to a duel. On the other hand, in New York you also have Sydney Harcourt as Burr who was a very reactive character; you knew what Burr thinking by how he reacted to his surroundings, so it was the moments he didn't react that made you realize there was more than meets the eye.

Joshua Henry found a way to mix the reactive Burr with the Burr who had hatred against Hamilton festering inside. This created a very interesting dynamic between the two because you knew they were enemies by the end of the show, but they were pretending to be friends for the sake of appearances.

The March performance was truly a treat because Burr was played by none other that Wayne Brady. I grew up watching Who's Line Is It Anyway?, so I almost couldn't believe it when I found out he would be on stage the same time we were seeing the show. I knew he was a talented comedian, but how would he handle Burr, a character who is arguably one of the most dramatic of the show? The answer, of course, is masterfully.

My favorite Burr will probably always be Sydney Harcourt because of his reactiveness; some scenes didn't make sense to me or have as much weight when Leslie Odom Jr. performed them because his Burr was such an internal character, but I understood them with Sydney. Wayne Brady perfected that reactive nature while still having the captivating power I saw in Leslie. His only shortcoming was his dance ability, but I won't hold that against him too much. The highlight of his performance, on the other hand, was most definitely "Dear Theodosia"; this might be the first cast I've seen where both actors for Burr and Hamilton have children in real life, and the emotion behind that song was palpable.

I'll take a moment to diverge from glowing reviews to offer my minimal critique of the show: Jonathan Kirkland as Washington. I only say he wasn't my favorite because there honestly wasn't anything that stood out to me, and if I'm having trouble remembering the performance, there probably wasn't much to recall.

The one positive Jonathan had over other Washington's was he seemed to be a solid head taller than all of the "revolutionary set" and it made it feel like I really was watching a more accurate representation of the Revolution, at least in Act I. Hamilton and Co. were basically a bunch of crazy twentysomethings running around and trying to start a new country while Washington, the only real adult tried to hold it all together. That is exactly the feeling I got seeing Jonathan Kirkland looming over the rest of the cast.

The most improved performance from October to May has to be Ari Afsar as Eliza. Here's what I had to say about her in October:

"Ari's Eliza is adorable the second she steps on stage. She looks around her at a city full of change and excitement like a kid on Christmas, which is fine for the beginning stages of Eliza. My problem is that she never looses that, so you don't get a lot of development from one of the most interesting characters in the show. During Eliza's heartbreaking second act, I didn't feel for her like I did with any of the New York Eliza's. She's talented, but I think she's a little inexperienced in terms of Broadway."

I can't say enough how much more I enjoyed her performance in March. I still stand by the fact that Eliza is the most interesting character in the show, and Ari might be the most interesting Eliza I've seen to date. She wasn't this demure, sweet wife who stood on the sidelines. No, this was a woman who tried the do what was best for her husband and he resisted her at every turn.

She still had that child-like wonder in "Schuyler Sisters," and seeing her fall in love in "Helpless," was adorable, but we start to see a different woman around "That Would Be Enough." She's not just singing a sweet ballad to her husband about their future child, she's pleading with him to understand that she wants him more than his ambitions, which can be seen again in "Non-Stop" when Washington asks Hamilton to be in his cabinet; Eliza does not want him to go, and almost seems like she's lecturing him until he throws her own "Look around, look around...." line back at her. She seems to realize it's not worth trying to convince him at the end of "Take A Break." After Hamilton says he has to go, Angelica looks as if she's going to continue to persuade him, and Eliza just stops her and shakes her head.

It's these small moments that give both "Burn" and Philip's death so much more weight. All in all, she might have given one of my favorite Eliza performances, though not necessarily my favorite vocals. (Not to say she was bad, she was fantastic, just not my favorite.)

What comes next?

The actor who probably took the most liberties with their interpretation of the character was Alexander Gemignani as King George III. The defining characteristic of OBC King George Jonathan Groff was the way he portrayed emotions with nothing more than his facial expressions and tone. He hardly moved while on stage, and Rory O'Malley followed suit, but Alexander was all over the place both in voice and movement. Vocally, he didn't copy his predecessors, choosing instead to even speak some lines rather than sing them, and he pranced around the stage far more than Groff or Rory. All of this created a character who was terrifying due to his unpredictability. "I will kill your friends and family to remind you of my love" felt less like a funny like in the song and much more like the promise of a power-hungry ruler.

I've thought long and hard about Jose Ramos's performance as John Laurens/Philip Hamilton and what to say in comparison to the OBC's Anthony Ramos (other than the fact that they have the same last name). I've found Jose's performance is the hardest to critique because he is so similar to Anthony in many ways yet also so different. I think overall, Jose's Laurens/Philip had a bit more innocence to them; there was a spirit of optimism to him where I saw more of a bold and flippant persona from Anthony.

I think what throws me off most is the difference in interactions of Laurens/Philip with Hamilton from Jose to Anthony. There is speculation that Laurens & Hamilton's relationship might have been more than platonic, but even if it wasn't, their bond was stronger than most. Anthony's Laurens and Lin's Hamilton (and even, really, Javi's) seemed to play this up. You got the idea that even if they were just friends, they definitely had no boundaries between them.

With Jose & Miguel, they were still obviously very close, but Jose's Laurens held such a deep admiration and respect for Hamilton. I could almost imagine him standing to the side while Hamilton awed a crowd with his words saying, "Wow, I'm so amazed by him. I'm so proud of him." If we're to believe that Hamilton and Laurens were indeed intimate, this would be the Laurens that is pining after his best friend who's busy falling in love with two girls.

Compel him to include women in the sequel

If you're familiar with the show, you'll know there's a lot of double casting from the first act to the second. As previously mentioned, Hamilton's bff also plays his son and two of his Revolutionary bros become Thomas Jefferson and James Madison, but the most interesting change in my opinion is Ham's sister-in-law who is then his mistress.

All of the doubles tend to be pretty drastic changes, but Peggy Schuyler/Maria Reynolds requires an actress go from sweet youngest sibling (who also sounds like a child) to sexy seductress who can belt like nobody's business. Samantha Ware handles this change beautifully. Peggy in "The Schuyler Sisters" is this adorable girl who's happy to be following her sisters around, but when Maria enters, it's hard to believe they're played by the same actress. In "Say No To This," Hamilton details his affair with Maria Reynolds and how he was blackmailed by Maria's husband. It's a sultry song from the sound to the staging, but it was always a song that fell a little flat to me. That changed in Chicago.

Lin and Javi's Hamiltons paired with Jasmine Cephas Jones (OBC Pegga/Maria) were good, and you could definitely tell Hamilton was doing something he wasn't supposed to, but I ended up frustrated with him for going through with it. With Miguel and Samantha, I felt like I was watching something I wasn't supposed to, but at the same time, I couldn't look away. "Say No To This" is a sexy song, and this was the first time I felt like there was some serious desire from either of them.

Chicago understudy Amber Ardolino took the sexiness of Samantha's performance and turned it up even more (which I didn't even think was possible). This leads me to believe Miguel as Hamilton might be the key to "Say No To This," but obviously the scene wouldn't be possible without the girls. At the beginning of the scene, Maria and Hamilton have an almost kiss, and the sexual tension between Amber and Miguel was heavy in the air. By the time they do kiss, it was a full on make out at center stage, and it was full steam ahead from there on out. Seriously, I felt like I should avert my eyes even though everyone on stage was fully clothed. Bravo. That's acting right there.

Quite possibly the biggest star in the show, excluding the limited engagement of Wayne Brady, is Karen Olivo, who plays the eldest Schuyler sister, Angelica. Karen is a Tony award winner who originated a role in Lin Manuel Miranda's first musical, In The Heights. A couple of years ago, she decided to retire to the Midwest and take a break from acting, but she returned to the stage for Hamilton, and boy, am I glad she did. You want to talk about some freaking character development? I could go on for days about Karen's portrayal of Angelica. She had some serious shoes to fill, too: Renee Elise Goldsberry won a Tony for her Angelica, but I might be willing to say Karen did it better. I'll try to sum up her performance without going on too long.

Let's start with "The Schuyler Sisters." Just as Eliza steps out amazed by New York, Angelica enters the stage in awe, but for different reasons. Angelica is an intellectual (a big reason she and Hamilton are so drawn to one another), so to her, New York is a place of new ideas and so much to learn. My favorite part of the song was her line, "I've been reading Common Sense by Thomas Paine..." Renee's Angelica says it almost as if to warn Burr, "Look, I'm not just a pretty face, okay? I'm educated, so you better back off," but Karen's Angelica looked about how I imagine I do when someone asks me about Hamilton: "Okay, so I found the most incredible thing and I've learned sooo much from it, so let's talk about it and dissect every bit of thematic symbolism and depth in every word here." She can't be bothered to give Burr the time of day because she'd rather engage in political discussion.

Then there's "Satisfied," Angelica's confession that although she saw (and loved) Hamilton first, she's choosing to let him be with Eliza because she loves her sister more than she cares about her own satisfaction. Here's a fun story behind the song: Lin originally wrote this melody in a song for an album Karen had intended to record. The project was tabled, and when it came time for an Angelica feature song, Lin essentially asked for the song back. This could be why Karen's performance of the song is so powerful; in a way, it's coming home to the artist it was meant for. It's an incredible song to begin with, but the performance (before this one) that absolutely blew my mind was from understudy Alysha Deslorieux because she threw in some runs at the end that blew my mind. Oddly enough, so did Karen, which leads me to wonder, which one learned from the other?

Seriously, please send me a message if you ever want to know more about Karen as Angelica because I could dissect every detail of her performance of "Satisfied."

The world turned upside down

Still with me? I'm almost finished, I promise.

For the most part, there were a good number of similarities between the New York cast and the Chicago cast. That stops with Wallace Smith. Let me tell you about my love affair with him as Hercules Mulligan/James Madison. Everything about Wallace's performance is different from Oak Onaodowan's Mulligan/Madison, but it's because he has to be. In now way are Oak and Wallace similar; their demeanor, the way they carry themselves, their voices. Some of the cast could imitate the OBC and use that as a bit of a crutch, but not Wallace. And holy cow, that was the greatest thing he could have done. Hercules Mulligan makes a sex joke in "Aaron Burr, Sir," and with Oak's Mulligan, it was a funny comment between bros while drinking, but with Wallace's Mulligan, I fully believed he had somehow tried to have sex that somehow involved four corsets and a horse.

Whereas Mulligan was crude, Madison was obviously educated, sickly, and upper class. He constantly tried to have perfect posture, even though he had a persistent cough (which Wallace worked into the character wonderfully). His relationship with Jefferson was hysterical, but also exactly how I imagined it to be - he was always there to support Jefferson in whatever he was doing, but also the brains behind some of their schemes. One of my favorite Madison/Jefferson moments came in "Cabinet Battle #1": Jefferson usually drops the mic, but Madison catches it before it hits the floor. Instead, Chris Lee's Jefferson set the mic down on the floor like it was too hot to touch and Madison had to use his handkerchief to pick it up and then pretended to blow on it until it cooled down. It was hysterical.

And so I've saved the best for last. Tony Award Winner Daveed Diggs (*giggles because I can say that*) perfectly originated the role of Lafayette/Jefferson on Broadway, and understandably so, seeing as how elements such as the lighting-quick raps were written into the roles specifically for Daveed. It is easy to say a certain role was written for an actor, but in this case, it's completely true. Knowing that, following up such a charismatic role is no easy feat, yet somehow Chris Lee not only tackles the role but absolutely slays it.

Lafayette is a character that, rapid-fire raps in "Guns and Ships" aside, is easy to forget as he fades into the ensemble fairly easily. Chris Lee refused to let that happen. Remember how I said Jonathan Kirkland's Washington made the Revolutionary Set feel like a bunch of teenagers? Lafayette contributed to that greatly. He was like a playful kitten around stage dancing with Hercules Mulligan and laughing with his bros as they distracted Burr so Hamilton could interrupt Seabury in "Farmer Refuted." He was absolutely adorable.

Jefferson in Act II was the charismatic whirlwind you would expect, and Chris handled Jefferson's swagger and confidence wonderfully. He was so sure of everything he said in the cabinet battles, and the fire within him in "Washington On Your Side" was almost terrifying. He balanced all of this with humorous moments such as the beginning of "Washington On Your Side": the previous scene ends with Jefferson and Hamilton center stage and Burr watching in the background. When Jefferson goes to leave, Burr starts singing about how great it must be to be bff's with Washington, and Jefferson looks around like, "Where the heck did this fool come from??" His ability to mix Jefferson's intensity with humor is astonishing.

Who lives, who dies, who tells your story?

I think it goes without saying that the creative team of Hamilton has gone out of their way to ensure the quality of the casts in every version of the show, and the Chicago cast is definitely no exception. The ensemble is stunning to watch, the main cast are stupidly talented, and everyone involved gives fervently to make sure the show is the best it can be. The show speaks to the dreamer in all of us and never fails to leave me asking, what will be MY legacy?

#hamilton #hamilton chicago #hamiltonchi #karen olivo #wayne brady #miguel cervantes #hamiguel #joshua henry #jonathan kirkland #ari afsar #alexander gemignani #samantha ware #amber ardolino #jose ramos #wallace smith #chris lee

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