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chattonlait · 4 years

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Pretty Lies

“When you’re walking across the runway, Adrien, just make sure you hold your chin up, and even if you don’t feel confident, make sure you make long, confident strides.”

“Even if I don’t feel confident, mama?”

His mother’s eyes crinkled, “Even if it’s not real, try to make it real to your audience. They only know you, and the clothes you’re wearing. They don’t know your story.”

A.K.A The fic where Adrien has the worst month of his entire life and it spirals wildly out of his control. Modeling is tough work. Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21142004/chapters/50316563

“When you’re walking across the runway, Adrien, just make sure you hold your chin up, and even if you don’t feel confident, make sure you make long, confident strides.” “Even if I don’t feel confident, mama?” His mother’s eyes crinkled, “Even if it’s not real, try to make it real to your audience. They only know you, and the clothes you’re wearing. They don’t know your story.” Adrien held his head high, took a deep breath and he walked. One confident stride followed the other. Cameras flashed in his peripheral but he was too blinded by the stage lights to see each and every one. His mind wandered, his throat tightened in an impossible way and he blinked back the tears that he knew would give him the perfect en vogue look when the shots released in a few hours. Nobody would think there was something wrong, they’d point at it and go, “That’s just part of the look.” Even if it wasn’t, because he made it real to his audience, and they didn’t know his story. He turned at the end of the runway, flashed a smile that made his eyes crinkle, and walked the other way. His heart felt like it would pound out of his chest at any moment. He closed his eyes and when he opened them again he was backstage. His heart stilled and he walked back to his dressing room, letting the bright lights drown out his feelings.

It had been so long since his mother’s advice rang in his ears. When he first started modeling, he repeated it like a mantra, day after day, shoot after shoot. Sometimes he’d think about it during fencing lessons, and Chinese classes. If he held his head high, and made long confident strides, then he could do everything. The world didn’t need to know what was going on inside his head. He changed out of the runway clothes, hanging them up on their pristine velvet hanger. “Something’s bothering you, kid,” Plagg’s voice broke the cacophony in his head and Adrien turned, smiled, “I’m fine, just stressed, that’s all,” and he shrugged his shoulders like it was the easiest thing in the world, plucking a blonde hair off the shoulder cuff. It was a truly beautiful garment, hand beaded. There was no doubt that his father was a brilliant designer. Plagg floated over to land on his shoulder, face nestling against Adrien’s cheek. He leaned into it, selfishly, and sighed. It was a long day, and the exhaustion weighed heavily upon his shoulders. After that runway shoot, he had to go over to Luka’s to watch their Kitty Action rehearsal (a song that Adrien wasn’t in, something he would forever be grateful for) He enjoyed his time with his friends, and he got it preapproved by his father. That didn’t help explain the anxiety settling in the pit of his stomach, coiling up like a frightened snake. “Okay Mr. Stressed, care to put pants on?” Adrien snorted out a half laugh, “Yeah, I will. Don’t worry. How else am I supposed to show off the Agreste loungewear line?” He rolled his eyes, opening up the box his father had left him. At least it should be comfortable. And it was, he realized as he popped the sweatshirt on, combing his hair artfully back and out of his face. It was still sticky with styling products, falling in loose waves around his head. He took a makeup wipe to his face in an attempt to rid himself of the thick layer of foundation on his face. It halfway worked, and when he looked up at himself he felt like it was okay. Smeared mascara was a look, right? Oh well, he didn’t have time to take off the rest of it. He managed to jump into joggers, and toe his sneakers back on before he was grabbing his bag and rushing through the door. He didn’t stop jogging until he was out of the building, flipping the hood of the sweatshirt up. Plagg stayed by his side, tucked in the space between his neck and shoulder. “That exciting, hmm?” Adrien laughed, genuinely, “It is, it’s practically a sleepover..” Practically? Who was he kidding? It was a sleepover by all sense of the word, and his father actually approved it. His heart beat heavily, not with dread, but with joy. “Ohhh a sleepover! How exciting, did you remember-” “Your camembert, yes Plagg, I remembered your camembert, but you have to stay hidden. I’m only bringing you along because..” “Because anything can happen, I know, I know. And while you listen to your friends write and perform music, I’ll be making the coziest home out of your bag.” “And you call me weird,” he huffed and shook his head. The houseboat was in sight in it’s massive glory. The top of it was lit up with beautiful string lights that reflected against the inky water it sat upon, swaying slightly against the waves. Adrien took a second to compose himself, sucking a deep breath in, and exhaling it slowly. It was just a sleepover, it was so simple, but it was with so many of his friends. Marinette, Alya, Juleka, Rose, Ivan, and Luka. Nino wasn’t able to make it but it would be okay. Head high, confident strides. The text message said to just walk in so he did, and he was greeted with well- a lot- They were laughing in the practice room, it smelt like popcorn and oddly like pancakes. Plagg zipped into his bag and grinned up at him. Adrien swallowed and walked in, laughing nervously. “Sorry I’m late, I tried to get here as fast as I could.” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, he really did try to get there quickly, he knew he was quite late though. What if he missed the rehearsal? “I didn’t know you wore makeup during your shoots, Adrien,” Alya was the first one to speak and she sat up from the floor. In seconds she invaded his personal space, swiping a thumb under his eye. Oh right, the smeared mascara. “Well, in shoots I uhm- no? No makeup during shoots but this was ah.. runway and those pictures are like uhm, well you know, super candid and stuff so it’s important to wear makeup so that you look alright from all angles, and you know, this is kind of the debut before the winter collection so it’s a bit more macabre,” he was pressing his fingers together, a nervous tic he’d been told to stop multiple times. He couldn’t help it, Alya was just so close and Adrien’s nerves were still shot from his modeling endeavor Juleka’s head cocks out along with Marinette’s, and Adrien felt heat rise in his cheeks. Was it that weird? “I thought you might be finally trying a punk look,” Juleka said with a smile and a little nod, hiding behind her hair again. Marinette giggled, “It would be an interesting look on you,” and she patted the spot next to her, “Both of you need to come sit!” Adrien nodded and shifted his bag, smiling at Alya. She smirked back at him and led him along. Luka smiled at him and patted the spot next to him. Adrien sat down, succesfully, between Luka and Marinette. “If I did a punk look my father would probably keel over,” he didn’t mean for the joke to come out as dark as it did but even Ivan snickered. “Or have a freaking stroke,” Alya added.

“So he’s still controlling?” Luka asked, and Adrien could only shrug. “Just.. overprotective. Looking different can get you into trouble, I guess? Or get you odd looks, and I do represent his brand.” Marinette sighed, “His very posh, fashion forward brand.” “Exactly!” Adrien leaned forward, crossing his legs and bringing his knee up to his chest, “But I do enjoy the modeling, I’m actually doing something new for the winter line.” “Ooh, you have to spill,” Rose spoke up, and laughed, “The winter shows are always the best! The clothes are sooo avant garde.” Adrien couldn’t remember a time he ever talked about himself so much, maybe as Chat Noir, but that didn’t count. He really did love modeling though, it was so easy for him to talk about.

He nodded to Rose’s comment, and then to Marinette and Juleka’s questioning, wide eyes. “The winter show is always more couture, it’s not about wearable fashion stuff like this,” he fluffs up his sweatshirt, “Which is going to be apart of the new Agreste lounge slash sportswear collection- I digress. The winter shows, it’s where designers from all over the world are assigned a model and they design a fashion piece based off of them. This is going to be the first show that I’m doing just by myself- and on stage in general. I won’t even know which designer I’ll be working with until next week.” “So instead of it being about wearable clothes, it’s basically an art show? Kind of like pop versus Indie?” Luka asked. Adrien nodded, “It’s exactly like that. The Ageste brand is definitely a more commercial brand, but the brand itself hosts smaller designers to come to Paris once a year and show off their art. Every design is made to the model’s body, which means it’s all one of a kind. Whatever I’ll be wearing? It’ll be the only one and that’s.. Exciting.” It was also heart racing. He used to watch his mother walk across those runways, in gowns with multiple tiers, intricate beading, and gorgeous patterns. Gowns that billowed around her and made her look like a floating angel surrounded by twinkling lights. This would be the first year that he walked that stage in her place, there was so much weight to it, emotionally, and publicly. If he screwed up on stage, he wouldn’t hear the end of it from his father. . And he’d disappoint himself, but he would never say that out loud. “That sounds absolutely incredible! So many designers and garments in one place. It must be such a hub of inspiration,” Marinette bounced her fists up and down, “What I’d give to be one of those designers.” Adrien tilted his head, “You could be, one day. They are randomly chosen, and it’s annual. As long as you keep applying, you could totally get in!” “You think so?” “Marinette, I’ve seen your designs, I know so.” Alya elbowed Marinette and Marinette squawked. Everyone laughed and Luka stood back up, Ivan followed. “We’ll all be ready for that winter collection, but in the meantime, why don’t we get some practice done. It’ll help us brainstorm in this creative hour of night. Rose bounced up, “I’ve been working on new lyrics!! Here,” she dug around her bag and handed everyone a piece of printed paper. Adrien shifted to scoot closer to the couch, sitting with his back against the seat, giving the rest of them room to perform with their instruments. He couldn’t focus on the words on the page, and peaked up over the top of it to look at Marinette. She was probably gathering inspiration for the new costume designs for the song. She took out her sketchbook and everything. Adrien leaned in a little closer, watching her pencil move across the page but not really seeing what she was drawing. He wasn’t close enough to tell what exactly it was. A bodysuit, maybe? A pantsuit? Who knew, certainly not him. He got lost in her movement before realizing that the rehearsal was starting. It was like coming back up from being underwater, and he realized he must have spaced out at some point. Marinette’s eyes were focused on the band Adrien looked there too, at Ivan on the drums, Rose singing, Luka on guitar, and Juleka on bass. The song hit him then, resonating a deep chord somewhere in his heart and his throat tightened up again. He should have read the lyrics, it would have made him feel less stupid but in that moment his brain caught up with his body when Rose sang. “Maybe we’re just friends, but I want more.” Adrien hit his fist into the flat palm of his hand, “It’s a love song.” Rose giggled into the mic and for the second time that night, Adrien felt his face going hot. “Sorry, I promise I read the lyrics it just.. It didn’t hit me until now, hearing it out loud.” Marinette had her hand over her mouth and Alya nudged him, “I’m glad you caught onto the meaning behind the words.” “I never did claim to be a great poet, or understanding poetry,” he scratched behind his ear and laughed with them, “Still, I think it’s great. It’s a refreshing take on a love song it’s so.. In your face!” Rose smiled, her cheeks turning pink, “I’m glad that you caught it! If you caught it, then our audience certainly will!” Everyone nodded, and Adrien settled back against the couch, glad that his spotlight moment had finally ended. He still felt how his cheeks burned and he kept his face clasped in his hands to hide himself. One day he’d actually read the things that were handed to him, and read them well, so that he wouldn’t embarrass himself like that again. They resumed rehearsal and Adrien put his head down on his knee. He was tired, beyond tired, and it was finally catching up to him. All he wanted to do was lay down but he was enjoying his time with his friends. They were all so.. Lively, and happy. It was an energy he wasn’t used to, but he appreciated to a level he would never be able to describe in words. He felt safe in the presence of his friends, undoubtedly safe. The beat of the song throbbed in his ears as he nodded off, cheek falling flush against the couch cushion

#bee fics #miraculous ladybug #ml #chat noir #ladybug #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #alya cesaire #rose lavillant #luka couffaine #ivan bruel #juleka couffaine #gabriel agreste #light angst uknow u know

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perspectiveswithjasmine · 4 years

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Elite (C)

It all happened so fast. The lights, the celebrities, the parties. It seemed like a scene out a film. All of it seeming so surreal, at times I had to pinch myself to prove that I wasn’t dreaming. I had become the object of attention. Flying from country to country, Appearing on talk shows and T.V. shows alike, and being put on the cover of Vogue. It was just intoxicating. I was what girls aspired to be. I was the talk of the time. Every step I took, every breathe I had to take, was now being seen by the entire world. I had now become a part of the select few who would no longer live the average life. I had become a celebrity, an icon, a new member of the Elite.

I fell for a man of equal status. The son of a wealthy businessman, he had followed in his father’s footsteps, owning businesses far and wide, ranging from Hotel Chains, Apparel lines, and Music Labels. Starting off at the age of 15, he began to invest in local artists in his neighborhood, and thanks to his father, in time, grew to be some of the top charting artists of our era. He then began owning businesses internationally, managing to build his net worth to $20 million by the age of 24. This same man, was the same person who was so embarrassed to ask me to dinner, he had to send a waiter to ask for him. But once we had got to talking, I had realized that this man would steal my heart, and in time, he did. He had understood me completely, and I to him. We grew together in the madness and insanity of this fast paced world and industry.

Now, 2 years later, just arriving from fashion week in Paris, I pull up to his condo in the Upper East Side of Manhattan. Before I get out, I admire the rainfall in the city. The way it slides down the glass window, joining the rest of the earth. A true representation of how no matter how much we build and create in this world, the earth will always show its dominance. “Everything alright, Ms. Lockwood?” I look at the driver as he stares back through the rearview mirror. “I’m doing just fine, thank you for asking”, I say as I open the door. Right when I step outside, I’m bombarded with paparazzi. Flashing lights and photographers huddling around me, their questions seeming like the buzzing sound a swarm of bees make around their hive. The doorman of the building quickly paces towards me with an umbrella and rushes me inside. The photographers surround the door, taking picture after picture. “They’re like maggots in a trash can”, the doorman says as he wipes the water off his coat. I couldn’t stop myself from releasing a small laugh. I go up to him and give him a $20 tip. “It’s the price of fame. It’s the contract we signed with the devil when we entered this world”, I take a quick glance around, “Is Drake here?” He laughs as he puts the bill into his coat pocket, “Yes, Mr. Remy is here. He got in earlier today”. “Thank you Carter, I sincerely appreciate it”, I say as I walk towards the elevator door. “My pleasure Ms. Lockwood, All in a day’s work, as they say”, he says as he takes his position back at the door. I look at him and smile before I enter the elevator. I click the button to the 45th floor. I try to straighten myself while I wait. The elevator door opens up and I step into his luxurious apartment. The aroma of lavender fills the air. I walk up to the main window overlooking the city and stare at the skyline being covered by rainfall. Clouds cover the sky, leaving the sun nowhere in sight. I can hear his voice drift through one of the rooms. He’s on a business call. I can always tell by the half forced laughs and emasculated tones. Being pushed into this world I grew to understand the language of men with money. I lay my coat on one of the loveseats, and step over to a mirror placed in the middle of his living room. I take a look at my face and try to salvage any damage made by the rain. “A beauty that launched a thousand ships” I turn around to see him staring right at me from a corner of one of the rooms. I let out a small laugh, “I’m hardly anything close to the fairness of Helen of Troy”. His face gives a little smirk. We both pause and stay in place. We stand still in complete silence, only allowing our eyes to speak for us. He then walks over and brushes a piece of my hair behind my ear, “To think, a woman of such allure and stature stands before me with equal admiration, it’s hard to believe at times”. I scoff at him, “You’d think after 2 years you would start accepting the fact”. He wraps his arm around my waist and pulls my body closer to his, “That’s what love can do to a man, creating a type of madness in his mind, fearing that what he’s experiencing could only be that of a dream, having him doubt reality” He then takes my face into his hand, “I love you Camille” he says as he pulls our lips together.

As I zip my dress back on and put myself back together again, I step go into his living room, only to see him standing in front of the window, waiting for me to be done. His eyes completely fixated on the city. I walk up and stand there with him, staring at the city as well. “It’s so interesting at how much promise is out there, how many opportunities lay before us”, he says, his eyes still glaring towards the skyline. I think for a second and smile, “It’s really beautiful isn’t it? How much every individual is capable of and how much they can achieve”. He turns and looks at me with confusion, making me look at him in the same manner, “I’m not sure what you’re talking about, how does the people have anything to do with this?” he says with confusion all over his face. I sit there and question my statement for a second but then shortly respond, “Well I was assuming you meant the opportunities that each and every individual has in this world.” He looks at me bewilderment and laughs afterwards, “That’s not what I meant at all. The people don’t matter, they’re just puppets and pawns awaiting our next move.” I take a step back as I take moment to understand what he said. “What do you mean by Our next move? Who are you referring too?” He takes a step towards me and tries to grab my arm, “I mean us. The people who have the ability to make change. The few individuals who have influence and power over what people think and say. What they buy, what they do, and how they do it is all influenced by us. We’re the ones who get to decide how they live their lives.” I move away before he can touch me. I stand still in disbelief at what he had just said. He senses my shock and grabs me, pulls me over to his couch and sits me down. “Camille, you can’t pretend that this hasn’t crossed your mind before. You yourself is a living example of this. Everything you do and say is all monitored by the entire world. You can dictate if people should wear yellow or blue. You have the power to influence millions. People want to be you. They want to follow your example. You cannot sit there and tell me that the mere thought has not crossed your mind”. I sit there and take a moment to process everything he’s saying. I have thought about it. Multiple times. Sometimes it overwhelms at how much responsibility I have and how much I have to live up too. There are nights I sit in fear at what I might do and how it may affect all of those who watch me with complete admiration and devotion. I look to him and see his eyes pouring into mine. I stand up and walk towards the window, staring towards the landscape of the city. Sitting there in silence, his eyes still on me, I turn around with my arms crossed together, “You’re right, I have thought about it. Many times.” He smiles wide, stands up, and paces towards me but I hold a hand out keeping him in his place, “What I don’t grasp is how you view the people who we have influence over. How you can view them as puppets and pawns. Does their existence only serve one purpose? Are we not the same flesh and bone as they are?” He looks at me with the same confusion as he did before and stares at me blankly, “Do you honestly think that we are the same as the people below us? People like Carter who remain in their mundane lives, forever in their same routine? Camille, we’re nothing like them. Yes we are of same flesh and bone but we are not like them in any way. We create the world around us.” I stand there in silence, just looking at him as he goes on, “For instance, I just got off the phone with one of the managers of my apparel line. We’re going to start a new trend where people start using the phrase ‘grippin’. We’re going to put it on T- shirts, Hats, even Jewelry. I’ve even started conversations with artists who said they’ll feature the phrase in their songs. All of that because I wanted too. Don’t you understand how powerful that is?” He starts to laugh with this new look in his eye. A look I’ve never seen before. I still stand in silence as he starts to calm down. He realizes my reserved composure, takes my face into his hand and motions my eyes into his, “Camille, I want you to know of what I, or should I say, what We are capable of. I want you by my side throughout all of this. I’ve even considered going into politics in the near future, and if I do, I want you, my Beautiful Penelope, to be there right by my side.” Before he can go on, a phone starts to ring, he reaches into his pocket and realizes who’s calling, “Camille, I have to take this, it’s a very important business call, but I want you to know that I love you. I need you to trust me, there’s nowhere but up for us.” He grabs me in his arms, looks at me with his eyes, and kisses me on the forehead. He then walks away into one of the rooms.

I have always feared of what man is capable of. Seeing the history of our humanity and what we have been able to do with just a simple idea and the power to do it. I’ve even questioned my own power and have been afraid of what I may do with it. I stare out towards the skyline and watch the rain cover everything, gloom covering the sky. I can hear the beginnings of thunder in the distance. I hear him laugh in one of the rooms and slowly walk towards the doorway of the room he’s in. I stand by the corner and just watch him as he carries on with his business. This man is capable of change. He has the will and power to do it. I saw the look in his eye when he told me. I could see the person he would become. Yet, why was I scared? This man who had stole my heart. Who had allowed me to feel safe and warm. I kept staring at him thinking at what potential truly he was capable of. At what he may do, and how it might affect the rest of the world, for better or for worse.

Circa 2015.

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potatogoon · 6 years

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Navinci’s workshop in Paris - Fan Account

I went to the workshop with a friend and we were meeting up with other participants we had talked with online an hour early. Everyone was so nice and so happy to be there! At one point, I saw Minsung going into the dance studio and started freaking out! So yeah, I made a great first impression.

We were then lining up to take the polaroids and group pictures. Polaroids were first to go, and I was at the front of the line. The staff asked us to think of a pose to do for the picture but I was freaking out so much my mind was completely blank and I ended up standing awkwardly next to him.

We I went to him for the picture, I said hi with the biggest smile so that he’d knew I was happy to be here and also to kind of make up for being a total groupie earlier. He said hi back (because he’s a very polite person) and gave me a tiny smile (He seemed kind of shy? Maybe because he wasn’t sure what to expect of us and how we were gonna act, and I can’t blame him for that tbh).

Once all the pictures were taken, the staff led us to the dance studio. My friends and I changed as quickly as possible so that we could be in front (lol). Before Minsung came in, the staff gave us a couple of rules (like don’t run at him, touch him, scream etc. and shout out to the French translator who was hilarious and kept making jokes, she really helped defuse the tension because we were all nervous as FUCK). Then Minsung came in, greeted us, introduced himself and then the class started.

SLUT LIKE YOU

Just so you know, Minsung is an AMAZING teacher! He talked mostly in English (credits to him for doing that because he did struggle to find his words but he made sure we all understood what he was telling us) and he would always take the time to help us understand what we had to do and let us take our time to learn and memorize the choreo. He was very patient with us and I love him for that!

He’s also the sassiest person alive. Especially during slut like you, showing us movements as “bitch slaps”, making faces and teaching us how to do his famous walk and even telling us, to boost our confidence: “who runs the world? Girls!”

At the end of the class, he separated us into three different groups to dance the choreo with him. At one point, he asked me and another girl to change groups and I kind of freaked out internally because he pointed at him and said “you go to group A” and in my head I was just like “omg he’s talking to ME!”

He then chose one of my friends and another girl to dance “Slut Like You” while being filmed by the staff and at the end, my friend went into complete freestyle mode and she was AMAZING!!! I’m sure she made Minsung very proud to have her as a student! He also danced to “Slut Like You” himself and it was AMAZING!! And everyone was hyping the shit out of him, which was pretty awesome!

Before we had to go change, Minsung asked us to sit down next to him. He started asking us where we were from, who was from Paris, how old we were and if some of us were dancers and whose dream was it to not be a dancer. A bunch of us raised our hands and he asked us individually what our dream was. At that moment, I was looking at him and I realized it was all real. He was there, in front of me and had just taught me one of his choreos, which has been my dream for 4 years. That’s when I started crying.

Minsung then turned to me and asked me “What’s your dream” immediately followed by “Oh, why are you crying???”, everyone around me went “Awe don’t cry!” (which made me cry even more tbh, I was a whole mess) and then Minsung threw his sweat-covered towel at me (which was hilarious omg thank you for making me smile). I then told him it had been my dream for 4 years to get a dance class from him because he was my favorite dancer and he was like “Really? Four years??”. He had a hard time believed I’ve been a fan of his and admiring him for so long. After that, I told him I wanted to be a nail technician and then showed my nails, since I had done a special Navinci nail art for the workshop. He took my hand, looked at my nails while smiling and then kept my hand in his a little longer. We looked at each other in the eyes and just kept thanking each other. That’s something I’ll never forget.

He went on to tell us that we needed to chase our dreams, to be prepared for the hardships to come and to never give up. In the end, we are all artists and need to be proud of our creations. Show it to the world, be proud of yourself and all your hard work. And if it breaks? It’s okay. Keep going, repair it so that you can make it even better.

Minsung truly is an inspiration and a few others started crying at that point. His speech really was beautiful and inspiring. I’ll never forget what he told us and I will always remember his words to keep myself going.

MOVE

Since there were a lot of new people for this class, the beginning was the same. Pictures were taken, we changed, staff gave the rules and Minsung came in.

For “Move”, we actually learned 2 choreos in one. The chorus was Taemin’s but the beginning was Minsung’s creation. And of course, it was voguing! While he was teaching us a particularly difficult hand movement, he went to every student to check how everyone was doing and took the time to correct us if we made mistakes and show us again how to do it properly. When it was my turn, I was thinking “don’t fuck up don’t fuck up don’t fuck up don’t fuck up” and I couldn’t look at him while doing it because I was so nervous. When I was done, I looked at him for his reaction and he looked at me with his eyes wide open and said “very gooood!” and I died a little bit inside.

His part was really beautiful and I was so happy that I finally got to learn some voguing (especially since it was taught by Minsung). It was pretty tough but I think I managed to do it quite well. Minsung apparently thought so too.

Just like for “Slut Like You”, he picked two students to be filmed dancing with him. And he picked me. He pointed at me, said “you go to the front”, picked another student to do the same and then played the music before joining us. I was sooooooooo nervous but I honestly think I did really well and I can’t wait for the video to be released! I was proud of myself and my friends were hyping me up so much, it made me really happy.

SCISSORHANDS

Yup. That’s right. We also learned the choreo to “Scissorhands”! I was so happy because I love this choreo soooooo much and have been wanting to learn it for a long time and I can’t believe I actually got to do it. It’s so hard though, the movements aren’t just difficult, you also need to do them very fast (I don’t think anyone managed to do it at full speed). We first learned the hand movements while sitting down before the steps and body movements. In the end, Minsung chose two students again to dance with him and he actually hesitated before deciding not to pick me, which made me feel pretty happy again (and I was also glad he didn’t pick me to be filmed dancing “Scissorhands” because I couldn’t memorize the choreo well enough, I would’ve just looked stupid).

He then danced to “Scissorhands” by himself and it was just beautiful. He is such an amazing dancer and we were so lucky to see him and learn from him.

After the class ended, I got to see him one last time in front of the dance studio building. My friends and I were trying to decide on where to spend the rest of the day when he came out. We said goodbye to him and he gave us the most beautiful eye smile I’ve ever seen.

That’s where it ends for me. I know what happened at the dinner event because my friends got to go but I don’t feel like it’s my story to tell. Just know that Minsung really does know all of us from social media; he knew the people going to the dinner because he had been stalking them for who knows how long! So if you’ve left comments on his pictures, he saw it. If you posted fanart, he saw it. So please, keep sending him love because he really deserves it, and I don’t think he realizes how much he means to us. We need to show that he is important and how he has had such an amazing and positive impact on our lives. He really deserves it.

This was literally the best day of life. I got to meet one of my idols and one of my biggest dreams came true. I also got to meet a lot of amazing people. It was so nice to see people that have been supporting Minsung and ToppDogg for so long and I got to meet people that I’ve only seen online, it was amazing! I will never forget them because they too, made this day beautiful.

#minsung #kim minsung #navinci #toppklass #navinci in paris #fanaccount

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dfpbetrayed-blog · 5 years

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Modeling And The Tragedy Of Karen Mulder

The news that '90s supermodel Karen Mulder was arrested in Paris for making death threats to her plastic surgeon could be written off as, at worst, a punchline, or at best, the latest expression of an unbalanced woman's erratic behavior.

Karen Mulder was a blonde 5'10" Dutch teenager who shot to fame after a friend sent in pictures of her to the Elite agency's famous Elite Model Look competition. Within two years, Mulder had given up high school to work full-time for clients like Valentino, Giorgio Armani, Calvin Klein, Yves Saint Laurent, and Versace. She made the covers of British Vogue, Italian Vogue, and various international editions of Elle, among many other magazines. At 21, she bagged a multimillion-dollar multiyear contract with Guess? She was picked as one of Peter Lindbergh's iconic gaggle of leather-clad biker supermodels in American Vogue in 1991, when DUMBO was still thought of as a little dangerous.

That's Mulder second from the right, between Stephanie Seymour and Naomi Campbell. Her career, still managed by Elite, flourished through the 1990s. Mulder capitalized on her wholesome look with commercial gigs, like her two appearances in Sports Illustrated's Swimsuit Edition, and she became a Victoria's Secret model. There was a Karen Mulder doll, made by Hasbro. Mulder dated a racecar driver, she dated Prince Albert II of Monaco, she dated a real-estate developer named Jean-Yves Le Fur. They broke up, but it was still Le Fur who picked her up off the floor of her Paris apartment and called the ambulance in the winter of 2002, after Mulder attempted suicide by overdosing on pain pills.

The suicide attempt and the coma she would lie in for two days following it came after Mulder had told the press, "From the beginning, I hated being photographed. For me, it was just an assumed role, and in the end, I didn't know who I really was as a person. Everybody was saying to me, 'Hi, you're fantastic.' But inside, I felt worse from day to day." It came after she laid a formal rape complaint in France against Prince Albert. It came after she said, "My job distracted me from my worries. It enabled me not to be myself, to pretend I was someone else." It came after a notorious appearance on French television where her various claims — that men at Elite had raped her, that she had been coerced into having sex to garner better contracts, that Elite had used her and other models as sex slaves in a ring that extended through the top echelons of French society, implicating politicians, members of the police, and other top officials, that her own father had raped her, that she had been sexually abused by a family friend from the age of 2, that she had been hypnotized and raped, kidnapped and raped, and raped some more — were regarded as so potentially libelous that France 2 not only never aired the segment, but destroyed the master tape. No matter: In a series of more-or-less coherent magazine interviews, Mulder repeated most of her accusations, and added that her agency had encouraged her to use cocaine and heroin. She told the Daily Mail, "They tried to turn me into a prostitute because they thought it would be so easy. I was raped by two bookers. I reported them and they were fired. Another time I was shut in the office of [a high-profile man from the modeling world] for a whole day. All these people who betrayed me I used to love very much. Then I realized how big the conspiracy was. It brought in the government and police, who both used Elite girls. People have tried to kidnap and poison me."

Her suicide attempt came after she was packed off to Montsouris hospital and heavily sedated for five months of treatment for depression and anxiety. (Gerald Marie, the head of Elite Paris and one of the men Mulder had accused of raping her, paid.) It came after Marie was filmed on hidden camera by the BBC trying to give a 15-year-old model £300 for sex, and bragging of how many entrants to the Elite Model Look competition — average age 15 — he was going to sleep with that year. It came after Mulder's attempt at a crossover music career resulted in the release of a cover of "I Am What I Am", which peaked at number 13 on the French pop charts in the summer of 2002. It was after recanting all her rape accusations, and explaining that she was in fact dealing with the aftermath of childhood sexual abuse and had "gone overboard," that the former supermodel tried to kill herself. Since emerging from hospital, and until her arrest yesterday, Mulder has kept a low profile.

How a woman like Mulder, one of those people who journalists are always quick to say "has it all," could fall so far, so fast is not really the question that commands interest here. We all know this story: it's got drugs in it, and predatory older men, and very young women, and the abject self-consciousness of the individual whose worth is in her pictures. It's always more or less the same story, even if Mulder, with her recantations and paranoid stories of kidnapping and poison at the hands of a shadowy "they," isn't always its most credible narrator. It's the story of Wallis Franken, of Ruslana Korshunova, of Katoucha Niane.

It's the story presented in a 60 Minutes segment from 1988 that reported, according to author Ian Halperin, "about the many models who had been drugged, raped, and sexually harassed by the world's top agency owners." (Halperin characterized the segment as "shocking.") It's the story of the BBC's undercover documentary of Elite executives offering to pimp out their models for drugs. (This was seen as "alarming" and "surprising.") It's the story models like Sena Cech are telling when they talk about being coerced into sex by photographers and clients at castings and on the job. (These accounts, and model Sara Ziff's documentary that provides one vehicle for them, were described in the Observer by writer Louise France as both "shocking" and "surprising.")

What amazes even more than how little the story actually differs from telling to telling, how fundamentally the same its elements remain, is our capacity for disbelief. It takes a certain dedication to one's own credulity to insist on being "surprised," "alarmed" and "shocked" by a situation that has been the subject of interest from such under-the-radar media venues as 60 Minutes going back a generation. As a culture, we have so far managed, through every news story and blog post and exposé, to maintain an innocence of the realities of the modeling industry that is almost touching. Or nearly culpable.

Our persistent willingness to be taken aback by the notion that wealthy, powerful, older men, when left in charge of a younger, poorer, female workforce, might generally act as something less than gentlemen, is testament to the power the multibillion-dollar fashion industry wields as an expert creator of narratives. It's this attitude of disbelief that allows agency directors to claim they had no idea some of their models were using cocaine and that some of their bookers were dealing it to them, or that some photographers like to sleep with models and some bookers encourage models to go along with it. Our endless capacity for shock is what gets Karen Mulder sedated and lets Gerald Marie retain, to this day, his position as head of Elite Paris.

The longer we keep up our charade of disbelief, the less the industry will change. One of the most chilling scenes in Sara Ziff's documentary, Picture Me, didn't make the final cut. A model was talking about a photo shoot that took place she was 16, with what Ziff has described as "a very, very famous photographer, probably one of the world's top names." When the girl left the studio to go to the bathroom between shots, the photographer cornered her in the hall. Then he started touching her dress. "But you're used to this," Ziff reported he said. "People touch you all the time. Your collar, or your breasts.

It's not strange to be handled like that." Then the world-famous photographer put his hand to her crotch and forced his fingers into her vagina. The teenager, who had never even kissed anyone before, just froze and waited for the man to walk away. They finished the shoot, and she never told anyone. The day before the New York premiere, she begged for the scene to be cut.

But more and more models are speaking out. (I have.) If only we can dispense with our "shock" at what they have to say, perhaps this is an industry where some realistic chance for improvement remains.

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littleglitterbab · 4 years

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Let me take you on a journey. a dumb one.

Okay so I fell down the dumbest research rabbit hole, and I need someone to come with me.

So I've been getting more into sewing, and last week I was scrolling through Vogue Patterns website and I saw this pattern:

My brain upon seeing this awfully familiar outfit:

Join me on the dumb research journey I went on this week.

Before I start, I’d like it on the record that I 10000% do not support the orange teratoma or anyone associated with him. I just was really fascinated by this specific topic for and then fell down a rabbit hole of research. January 2016, the orange Cheeto was inaugurated and the less said about that the better- the only thing I’d like to note about the whole affair is that during the inauguration Melania Trump was wearing a rather stylish blue coat and dress combo, which was a custom Ralph Lauren outfit. Custom meaning it was created specifically for Melania, for this event. There was a whole lot of hullabaloo about who was going to dress Melania for the event, with many designers outright refusing (bless them). Ralph Lauren explained why he agreed to dress Melania, but honestly I don’t give a shit.

A year and a half later, Vogue Patterns released a pattern (V9266) in their fall collection that looks identical to the blue coat and jacket, down to the dart placement on the dress. It was even made in the same colour for the pattern photo. The lookbook for the 2017 fall collection was released in July 2017. Vogue Patterns is owned by the McCall Pattern Company, as of 2001.

Fashion, especially fast fashion, has a history of copycat fashion, due to the way American copyright laws are structured, but this whole thing got me thinking- what kind of history is there of this outside of the fast fashion world? Was this common prior to the rise of fast fashion? What about patterns? Is the pattern of the Ralph Lauren dress being published by Vogue a common occurrence, or is this just an unusual case? Did Ralph Lauren tell Vogue, go ahead publish my dress, or did Vogue just say fuck it and blatantly copy him? Tell me the truth, Vogue Patterns, I need to know!!

Buckle up y’all, it’s time for a very cursory history lesson on counterfeit fashion.

Jewelry counterfeiting can be traced back to the 1800s, and probably later, with sly counterfeiters passing off “paste” jewels (paste meaning made of a type of glass) as the real things. However, you can see the intrinsic value of precious and semi-precious stones, but the value of a design of clothing seems less evident. Obviously people have wanted to dress like rich/famous people since the dawn of time, but when did copying specific designers come about?

In the 1860s, Charles Worth began signing his labels on his dresses, arguably making this the first “designer label”. Worth’s garments were highly sought after and were also exceptionally expensive. So, people started to copy his work. Just the act of labeling his clothing made it easier to forge his work, since just the label itself could make you think the garment was from the house of Worth even if it didn’t look like any of his designs.

Jumping ahead a century, in the 1900s, employees of Bergdorf Goodman would travel each year to Paris to purchase samples of garments from designers to take back to New York so that they could reproduce them and sell them to customers. While this wasn’t a case of counterfeiting patterns, perhaps this is one of the branches that leads to it? It’s easy to imagine an employee sneaking out a pattern or sample to make copies independently of the licenced retailers at Bergdorf Goodman.

In that vein, Elizabeth Hawke, an American fashion designer, was employed at one point as a “covert sketcher” by a dressmaker known for making high-quality, illegal knockoffs of designer clothing in the early 1900s. (Someone make me a blockbuster movie about this woman please)

In the 1940s-1950s Christian Dior’s New Look was so incredibly popular and in demand that many counterfeits popped up across the globe- including ones made by American fashion designer Nettie Rosenstein. Interestingly enough, she modified Dior’s silhouette to make it more accessible to the average person, notably by reducing the yardage in one dress from 15 yards to 7 yards.

During this era, department store employees that attended Dior’s couture shows had to pay an entry fee, which also went towards the purchase of a sample as well as the license to copy it.

Decades later, the process of copying designs is a lot simpler and (tragically) doesn’t involve employing covert sketchers. Rather than needing to get a hold of the actual garments, fast fashion manufacturers have instant access to the latest collections once they’re published online. This means that the timeline from original on the runway to counterfeit in the mall can be as short as two weeks.

All of this is really interesting, and the copyright laws surrounding sewing patterns and designers are super whack, but this doesn’t answer my ultimate question of WHY DOES VOGUE PATTERN 9266 EXIST?!

The Melania Trump outfit isn’t the only occasion where pattern companies have released patterns for well known outfits. Simplicity and McCalls have both released many look-a-like patterns for costumes worn on Game of Thrones, The Addams Family, The Hobbit, and Mirror Mirror (you know… that Julia Roberts movie from 2012?? me neither).

Due to my own lack of knowledge on couture fashion, I wasn’t able to locate any other cases of designer looks being reproduced by pattern companies. So, like, they might exist? But as I am a fashion newb, I was unable to find any further examples.

What I did find is that some designers have collaborated with Vogue Patterns to release licensed sewing patterns. For example, Vogue released 11 patterns by Alexander McQueen for Givenchy between 1998 and 2002.

More importantly, I discovered that Ralph Lauren had done the same thing with Vogue Patterns in the past as well! I found photos of patterns from the 1970s to the 1990s. However, something to note about these patterns is that they were all very clearly labeled “Ralph Lauren” in all capital letters, which Vogue Pattern 9266 lacks.

So, conclusion? Tl;DR? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Vogue Patterns and Ralph Lauren have a history of collaboration, but V9266 doesn’t have the same labeling. Also, if Ralph Lauren had decided to give Vogue Patterns his pattern to license and distribute, why would it take a year and a half? Couldn’t he just like email them his notes or whatever? Conclusion: I have no fucking clue you guys. Someone with an actual background in this field needs to take over for me.

In conclusion, I think the blue dress/coat combo is really stylish and I’m super annoyed that it was worn by someone I want absolutely no association with because otherwise I’d be 100% down for making my own. Morals : 1 Fashion : 0

Sources:

http://www.sewcratic.com/learn/sewipedia/pattern-companies/vogue-pattern-company

https://mccall.com/v9266

https://www.today.com/style/melania-trump-s-inauguration-day-dress-designed-ralph-lauren-t107230

https://heavy.com/news/2017/01/melania-trump-blue-dress-coat-inauguration-inaugural-designer-ralph-lauren-style-photos-jackie-jacqueline-kennedy-who-designed-made-cost/

https://www.edelweisspatterns.com/blog/?p=6005

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PTWWdLX1rAg

https://issuu.com/mccallpatterncompany/docs/vogue_patterns_fall_2017_lookbook

https://www.vox.com/2018/4/27/17281022/fashion-brands-knockoffs-copyright-stolen-designs-old-navy-zara-h-and-m

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elizabeth_Hawes#Fashion_career_in_Paris_(1925%E2%80%931928)

https://www.thecut.com/2014/11/new-fashion-exhibit-thats-all-about-knockoffs.html

https://blog.pattern-vault.com/cosplay-costuming/

https://blog.pattern-vault.com/alexander-mcqueen-series/

https://blog.pattern-vault.com/2018/09/07/ralph-lauren-50-years/

#fashion #fashion history #vogue patterns #v9266 #ralph lauren

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hkvoyage · 7 years

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Fic: Butterfly Wings - Chapter 30

Story summary A fashion blog started at University launched Blaine Anderson’s fortune and fame. As Vogue’s new editor-in-chief, he is struggling to find an original angle for an upcoming issue. Kurt Hummel has recently arrived in New York City after finishing high school, and is having no luck building a musical theater career, so he decides to explore another passion of his: fashion. He applies for an internship at Vogue, and Isabelle sees in him the perfect fresh face to liven up the magazine, and convinces him to try out as a model. Kurt meets Blaine, and in spite of their 10-year age difference, sparks fly. Can they overcome misunderstandings and sabotage to find their happily-ever-after? Klaine model AU. Rating for this chapter: General (overall story is mature) Word count for this chapter: 6,140 Can also be read on A03 / FF Masterpost is here. The fantastic artwork produced by Cassie at CC-Graphics can be here. Thank you to the amazing @lilyvandersteen for the beta work and support. ***** Surprise! I want Kurt and Blaine back together in this story as much as you do! Therefore, you’ll be getting two updates a week until they reunite.

***** “As a kid I quite fancied the romantic, Bohemian idea of being an artist. I expect I thought I could escape from the difficulties of maths and spelling. Maybe I thought I would avoid the judgment of the establishment.” - Peter Wright February “I can’t believe I already have 1,850 followers for Surf’s Up! and every day I get more. I only posted a couple of comics on Tumblr a week ago.”

“I told you the webcomic would be a hit. I’m sure it helped that we blogged about it on our Krian accounts,” Blaine replies. “I have a few ideas for the story, but nothing has prepared me for the comments. I’m not sure what to do, because everyone wants Biffy and Jamie to get together.” “It’s way too early, Sam. The guys haven’t even come out of the closet! Don’t you know that the ship gets together at the end?” “Will readers really want to wait until the end? How do I keep the plot going?” “Sam, it’s pretty basic. Use the OMENS plan - Obliviousness, Missed chances, External factors beyond their control, No effective communication, and Smut in small doses. That usually works.” “Cool. I guess it’s the same formula for most Krian fics. It takes a while to create the comics, so I won’t post anything new for another month. Will people wait that long for an update?” Sam asks. Blaine thinks this question over carefully. He really wants Sam to succeed with his Surfs Up! webcomic. “It’s hard to say with only a couple of comics posted, but I have an idea. Why don’t you set up some dummy Twitter accounts for the main characters and get them chatting to each other? It would be an easy way of filling people in on their backgrounds and how they think about things. Give links to the Twitter accounts on your Tumblr master post and people will flock over to see what it’s about. You can even have a few scheduled Twitter Q&A sessions to answer questions about ‘Jiffy’.” “Hey, man. That’s a cool idea. I need to find something to do now that I can’t read KrianFeel’s fics.” “Did I hear you right?! You’re no longer reading KrianFeel’s fics? I never thought this day would come!” “Mercedes has banned me from reading them during her pregnancy. Something about not wanting to deal with so much kinky action in the bedroom.” “Then I’m not going to tell you about yesterday’s update...” “What happened, Blaine? I need all the deets!” Blaine laughs at Sam’s commitment to the story. “The chapter starts with Kevin and Brian doing homework together at their apartment in New York City. They both look up at the same time and realize that all their roommates are out… And they are alone for once. Brian waggles his eyebrows and Kevin gives him that smile – the one he uses when he understands what’s going to happen. The next thing you know, Kevin has Brian spread out on the couch, slowly stripping him of his clothes. Kevin starts to blow Brian, but then at the critical moment – at least from Brian’s point of view because he’s about to climax - Stan returns home. What a cock-block! It ends with a scene where Kevin tells Brian that Stan’s got to find his own place to live.” “Sounds like a filler chapter, so I didn’t miss much,” Sam replies with a deep sigh. So, how’s Mercedes doing? Is the pregnancy coming along nicely?” “That’s why I called you, dude. We went to the doctor’s this morning and Mercedes had a sonogram. I could see the baby! She’s about six inches long, and I could see her head. I could even hear her heartbeat!” “You know the sex of the baby? I thought that wasn’t possible for another month or so,” Blaine asks. “Nope, we don’t know for sure, but I’m certain it’s a girl. I want the baby to be a girl like Mercedes.” “Awww…” Blaine coos. “So dude, I wanted to ask you something important. Will you be baby Evans’ godfather?” “Oh my god! Absolutely! I’m so honored that you asked me.” “Of course I’m asking you. You’re my best bro. Mercedes definitely wants the baby baptized, and I’ll let you know the deets closer to the time. It will probably be after Mercedes’ national tour.” “Count me in. So how is the country and western singing going? Have you found any regular gigs?” “It’s hard to get into the country music scene in LA. I’d be much better off in Nashville, but that isn’t going to happen any time soon. Not with Mercedes recording and going on tour so soon after the baby is born. I’ll need to take care of my baby girl then.” There’s a pause in the conversation and Blaine can tell that Sam is thinking about how to break into the country music business. However, he waits patiently, because Sam will confide in him when he’s ready. “So what’s up with you, Blaine? I saw some pictures of you on Instagram with some tall hot dude.” “Oh… I went out a couple of times with a lawyer I met when I was signing the paperwork for the Westerville Monarch House. Connor is a really great guy, but I’m not sure if I’m going to see him again.” “Why the hell not?” “I like Connor a lot, but he’s never going to be the special one in my life, because he’s not…” “Kurt. Blaine, I know it’s tough but you’ve got to move on. Maybe Connor is your rebound guy.” “Connor doesn’t deserve to be somebody’s rebound guy. I really don’t feel ready to move on. I don’t think I ever will.” “Promise me that you’ll give Connor a chance and go on a few more dates. It’s not like you’re doing anything else and it beats staying home by yourself.” “Maybe,” Blaine sighs. He knows he should give Connor more time to see if things will develop. “Maybe what you need is a change in scenery. Come visit me in LA. It will be totally awesome! I can teach you how to surf and you can hook up with some of the dudes. They’re pretty buff and I’m sure they wouldn’t mind being your holiday rebound guy.” “Thanks for the offer, but I don’t want a holiday rebound guy either. I’d love to hang out with you, but I just took some time off in India and went home for Christmas. I’m saving all my vacation time this year for when the Monarch House in Westerville opens.” “Just remember, you’re always welcome to stay.” ***** “Did you see the photos I sent you?” Michael asks. “Yeah, Dad. Monarch House really looks like a construction site now. I can’t believe the renovations already started this week.” “Believe it, son. I’ve gone every day after work to see how it’s progressing. Meagan is handling everything well. I think she’s going to make a brilliant director of the Monarch House. She might not have any experience with a project of this scale, but she’s smart, super organized and really committed.” “I have you and Mom to thank for getting everything sorted out. I could never have done it without you… Both of you. I can’t believe that you got the planning permission through so fast.” “You can thank Burt Hummel for that. It’s amazing what a call from a Congressman can do.” “You know Burt Hummel? Do you know he’s my Kurt’s father?” “I didn’t know Burt before this project. When the press release went out for the purchase of Monarch House, Burt called me. He said he was 100% behind the concept and would help in any way he could. When I mentioned we were waiting for the city council to approve all the plans, Burt said he knew the Westerville mayor very well - something about helping out his teenage daughter when her car broke down one snowy night in Lima. The very next day, the mayor called me and said the plans had been approved.” “Wow, I guess it does pay to have friends in high places. You didn’t… umm… discuss us as well?” “Of course we did, Blaine. How could we not? It was mostly pleasantries about how Kurt is doing in Paris and how you’re doing in New York City. One thing I’ll say is that if Kurt is anything like Burt, you know how to pick them. Burt seems like a decent and honest man.” “Well, don’t leave me hanging, Dad! What is the news on Kurt?” “Kurt is settling in nicely and boarding at an old lady’s house in Central Paris. He’s about to start his first modeling job with Dior. I think it’s a perfume ad. He also has a job for the Paris Fashion Week. Kurt is making friends and exploring the city.” “I wish I was doing that with him.” “All in good time, Blaine. Don’t lose hope. Kurt is so young. You have to give him some breathing space to experience Paris on his own. But make sure he knows that he’s still very much in your thoughts and heart.” “I’m not sure how to do that, Dad. Kurt is living on another continent.” “Tweet him, send him something that has a special meaning for the two of you. You’re a smart man, Blaine. You’ll think of something. Andersons are like the Canadian Mounties – we always get our man. Ha! I never thought I would be using that expression to describe one of our love lives.” Blaine rolls his eyes as he chuckles. That sounded a bit awkward, but he knows that his father means well. ***** Blaine has been feeling out of sorts all day. It’s been exactly one year since Isabelle brought one Kurt Hummel to his office as Vogue’s ‘fresh face’. At the time, Blaine had never suspected that his life would be both shaken and stirred. However, life hasn’t been the same since that fateful day. Until September, Blaine has spent most his free time with Kurt and has fallen deeply and irrevocably in love. Blaine has mixed feelings about the fateful night of the diva-off. He was so happy when Kurt finally kissed him. Sure, things went a little too far, but he was so lost in his emotions that there was no way he could pull back. When they left the theater, Blaine felt optimistic about his and Kurt’s future together. Then the ‘Klainegate’ video hit the Internet the next day, and nothing has been the same since. In hindsight, Blaine thinks that he should have gone after Kurt as soon as he left Vogue – when he was at Elle and still in New York City. However, at the time, Blaine felt hurt that Kurt had cut him off so completely by accepting the Elle job, moving and changing phone numbers. When Blaine finally decided to seek out Kurt in Ohio and see if things could be mended, he discovered that Kurt had moved to Paris. So exactly one year later, Blaine is just where he was this time last year. Alone. Blaine reflects on the telephone conversation he had with his dad a few days ago. As much as he wants to book a ticket on the next flight to Paris, his dad is right. Kurt is young and should experience Paris on his own for a while. But that doesn’t mean that he can’t let Kurt know that he’s thinking of him… missing him… wanting him. Blaine just needs to find subtle ways of getting that message across. Thinking that there’s no time like the present, Blaine tweets A year ago today, @KurtHummel walked into my office and life hasn’t been the same since. #InstantConnection, #FriendsForever Connor invited him out to the Comedy Cellar to see Ben Bailey do his standup show, but Blaine declined the invitation, knowing he would be poor company tonight. No-one wants to be with someone feeling blue in a place that’s supposed to make you happy. He had promised Amy he wouldn’t stay home by himself tonight – she emphasized that it wasn’t productive to drown in his sorrow. Blaine knows of only one place where he wouldn’t feel out of place this Saturday night, so he gets ready for a night out. ***** Blaine enters the Treble Club Jazz Club and takes a seat at the far end of the bar. It’s the perfect place to sit on such a busy night, hidden in the corner, but still able to see the stage. “Hey, Blaine. What will you have tonight?” the bartender asks, placing a coaster on the bar in front of him. “Not sure. I’m not in a bourbon and soda mood. Any suggestions?” The bartender nods and spends a minute or two mixing a cocktail. When he slides the tall glass towards Blaine, he merely says, “The Never-Ending Story.” Blaine sees a shimmer in the drink and gives the bartender a quizzical look. “It’s basically a Long Island Iced Tea but with Unicorn Tears gin instead of… well, gin. Blaine slowly nods, because whoever knew there would be a gin liqueur called Unicorn Tears. However, his attention is soon on Marley Rose, who steps onto the stage. She sings a long set - a mixture of soulful slow love songs and more upbeat country blues ones. Once the set is over and the encore performance has been sung, Marley Rose slowly makes her way over to the corner of the bar. “Blaine, what are the chances of you coming here three Saturday nights in a row? You’d think that you didn’t have half of New York’s eligible bachelors knocking at your door.” ‘New York Fashion Week is starting soon and so I’ll be out every night. Today’s a special day, and I didn’t want to be with anybody. Besides, I like it here - I like listening to you sing.” Marley Rose smiles at Blaine and takes a sip from her drink. Blaine is relieved that she gets it – she knows that he’s thinking about Kurt but doesn’t want to talk about him. “How’s the song-writing coming along? I was so excited when you told me before Christmas that you were playing the piano and composing again.” Blaine bows his head and places his two palms on his forehead. “I’m enjoying playing the piano, but the song-writing is another matter altogether. I actually composed a song called ‘I'm Never Saying Goodbye to You’. It is so melancholy that I had even considered submitting it to Adele. Song-writing is unleashing emotions that feel too personal and raw. I’ve got to figure a way out of this funk.” Marley Rose squeezes his shoulder and gives him an encouraging smile. “Maybe we can both do each other a favor. I’ve written the lyrics to a song called ‘All or Nothing’. I’m thinking that it needs upbeat music to accompany it, but I can’t figure out for the life of me a single musical note. Perhaps you could help me?” “Why not? E-mail me the lyrics and I’ll see what I can do.” ***** Blaine wakes up early Sunday morning, thankful that he had only one ‘Never-Ending Story’ drink last night. After a run in Central Park and a shower, he opens his e-mail and notices a new message from Marley Rose. True to her promise, she has sent him the lyrics to her new song. Blaine pours over the lyrics as he eats his breakfast. Then, with a newfound energy, he sits down at the piano. After doing his usual warmup exercises, he starts to compose the music. I can't stay here I am not the girl Who runs and hides Afraid of what could be And I will go there I need time, but know That things are always closer Than they seem Now I'll do more than dream yeah! The lyrics resonate with him, and he can’t help but wonder if the full story with Kurt has been told, or if there’s a new chapter waiting in the future. He hums out possible music to go with the rest of the song. Once he has an idea of where the composition is going, he switches on the mic and starts recording.

That it's All or nothing All or nothing Cause this is my life I'm not gonna live it twice There's no in-between Take it too extreme Blaine spends the rest of the day making minor adjustments and re-recording. When he’s satisfied with the end result, he sends Marley a text. Got my muse back and composed the music for the song. Want to meet tomorrow night to hear it? B

Gathering all his courage, Blaine attaches the audio file to an e-mail for Wes with the following message: I’ve been working on my music again. Marley Rose wrote the lyrics and I’ve composed the music. It’s something that I want Kurt to hear. Could you please forward this to him? Thanks – B. ***** “Prêt sur le plateau,” the photographer calls out when the lighting is ready. “Ready on set,” Louis, his Parisian agent, whispers to Kurt. “Don’t worry, there are only a dozen or so things that you’ll need to learn in French. You’ll pick those up quickly today.” Louis and Kurt step out onto the rooftop of a skyscraper, with the cityscape of Paris in the background. Kurt is freezing, as the sun is weak on this winter’s day, but he’s thankful that the wind is blowing only softly. Kurt is wearing a charcoal-gray suit with a simple white shirt. Instead of a tie, the first three buttons are undone, exposing his neck and his upper chest. Fortunately, it’s slightly warmer with the photography lights beaming at him. Kurt is surprised at the traditional poses he’s asked to take – standing near the guard rail, adjusting his shirt cuffs, lifting up the jacket lapels, and stuff like that. It all seems so easy after posing for Elle on the dance pole. “I want the faraway look. Like you are thinking about a beautiful femme, or homme. And face the city.” Kurt turns and leans his upper half on the guard rail, taking in the mix of historic and modern buildings of Paris. There is only one person to think of to give him ‘the faraway look’ – Blaine. He calculates the time in New York City and wonders if Blaine is awake yet. Is he alone in his penthouse or waking up with the new man in his life? Kurt has seen photos on Instagram and Twitter of Blaine out and about with a tall and good-looking man. They weren’t taken at high-profile events, but rather at coffee shops, the theater and local restaurants. Blaine looks comfortable around this new man, but something’s missing. There’s no hand-holding or shared smiles – nothing to indicate they are lovers… yet. Kurt had zoomed one of the photos and stared at Blaine’s eyes, for they are always so expressive. Blaine’s eyes look warm, but they lack the sparkle – the way they used to sparkle when Kurt and Blaine were together. “Cut. We’ll take a 30-minute break to warm up. The look was parfait, Kurt.” Kurt dashes inside and goes down one flight of stairs, where the model prep area has been set up. Louis immediately comes over and throws a wool blanket around his shoulders. “Kurt, don’t look sad. You were magnificent on set. The Dior manager is very pleased with the shoot,” Louis says. “I’m not sad about the photo shoot. I was thinking about someone towards the end of the session, and I miss him.” “The world is a small place. Why don’t you invite him to Paris to visit you? After this photo shoot, you have two weeks before you’re needed for the next job. Paris can be very romantic, even in the winter.” “I wish that it was that easy, Louis. But the man that I miss has found another.” “Impossible! There is no such thing as finding another after you.” “That’s not what the photos on Instagram and Twitter say.” Louis goes off to get Kurt a hot drink from the canteen. Kurt desperately wishes that Blaine was here in Paris - but Blaine isn’t, and no amount of wishing is going to change that. Kurt finds his phone and opens Twitter. He’s surprised when he reads the tweet from Blaine, reminding him that they met exactly a year ago. Has it really been that long? Blaine’s message has been retweeted thousands of times, with #klaine tagged. Kurt tosses his phone aside when he reads the retweet, Why aren’t my babies together? Before reading the tweet, Kurt thought that Blaine had moved on with his life, with brand-new projects and a brand-new man. But maybe the tweet means that Blaine misses him? He picks up his phone and retweets Blaine’s message, And what an amazing year it’s been. #InstantConnection, #BucketLists, #GoodTimes, #FriendsForever ***** “How did the photo shoot go, Kurt?” “It went really well, Dad, although it was shot outside and it’s cold here. The ad is going to hit the March issue of the magazines.” “Let me know which ones so I can go out and buy ‘em.” “The ad will definitely be in the American issues of Vogue and Elle.” “Then I’ll buy Vogue next month.” Kurt laughs when he notices his dad’s earnest expression, obvious even through Skype. “You’re probably Blaine’s number one fan.” “Of course I am. I really respect what he’s doing in Westerville with that Monarch House project. We had a long chat about it, and I think I might be able to convince him to open the next one in Lima.” “Wait a minute, when did you have a long chat with Blaine?” Kurt can see his dad take off his cap and rub his head nervously. “I wasn’t supposed to tell you about that.” Kurt wraps his arms around his waist and arches one eyebrow. “About what, Dad?” “After I dropped you off at the airport last month, Blaine came to the house looking for you. When I said that you were on your way to Paris, he looked as if his world was ending. Blaine was a mess. A snow storm started and I couldn’t send him back to Westerville in that state, so he spent the night.” Kurt shakes his head. He wishes that his dad had told him about this earlier. “And you just talked about his Monarch House project?” “No, of course not. It was all I could do to convince him not to jump on the first plane to Paris.” “Blaine wanted to come to Paris?” “Of course he did. Blaine is crazy about you. However, I convinced him that you need this time to figure out things for yourself.” Kurt rushes through the rest of the conversation because he wants some time on his own to think about this. When he gets off Skype with his dad, he heads down a floor and runs himself a hot bath. Once he’s soaking in a tub filled with his favorite lavender-scented bath oil, he thinks about what his dad told him. Kurt wonders what his reaction would have been if his dad had told him that Blaine came over when he had first arrived in Paris. He probably would have taken the first plane back. But his dad was right… He does need this time to experience new things and to gain a perspective on his relationship with Blaine. Kurt steps out of the tub and gets into his nightwear. After doing the long version of his nightly moisturizing routine, he heads back upstairs and crawls under the warm down duvet on his bed. Not everything his dad said made sense though. If Blaine is so gutted about Kurt moving to Paris, why is he dating another man? Why is it only now that Blaine is tweeting him? Kurt knows that Blaine is sentimental, so he must still like Kurt to remember the day they first met. But does Blaine like him just as a friend or could there be more between them? ***** “Café au lait et un petit pain au chocolat, s'il vous plaît (A coffee with milk and a chocolate-filled bun, please),” Kurt requests, sitting at the famous Café de Flore on Paris’ Left Bank. Kurt has switched his usual grande non-fat mocha order to something he feels sounds more adult. Besides, the flaky croissant pastry with fine dark chocolate chunks on the inside satisfies his sweet tooth. “Mon chouchou, I’m sorry I’m late. I was painting François and lost track of time,” Antoine apologizes as he slides into the seat across from Kurt. He snaps his fingers to grab the attention of the garçon and orders a double expresso. “Of course, I would prefer to paint a portrait of you,” Antoine adds with a wink. Kurt gives Antoine a tight-lipped smile. This isn’t the first-time Antoine has asked him to pose for one of his paintings. However, Kurt feels uncomfortable posing in the nude. Although Antoine promises he can cover up his ‘bits’, it doesn’t feel right that the first man to see him naked would be like this. Antoine hints at it, but never pushes, and Kurt is grateful for that. Kurt has met up with Antoine a dozen times since they properly met at the afternoon tea with Emmeline. They’ve played the tourist on the Left Bank and visited the Pantheon, the Sorbonne University and The Invalids. They’ve strolled through the Jardin des Plantes (“we must return in the spring when the first flowers blossom”). They’ve also explored the little shops and boutiques in hidden streets that Antoine knows so well. They have gone to clubs and bars and met up with Antoine’s friends. Wherever they go, Kurt notices that Antoine always attracts a crowd. His easy-going nature, good looks, and natural charm draw everyone to him like a magnet, women and men alike. Antoine has always been a perfect gentleman towards Kurt and makes sure that he’s included in the conversations, introducing him to his friends, who are artists, writers, musicians, chefs, and professional students. Kurt always enjoys himself with Antoine’s friends and is curious about their lifestyle. They seem to live in the moment, without thinking about the future. This isn’t a bit like he was raised in Lima, Ohio – where commitment and family are what really matter. “Mon chouchou, I have an idée magnifique (magnificent idea) for next Saturday if the weather is beautiful. Everyone must experience the Château de Versailles.” “I’d love to visit the palace where Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette were married. It’s on my bucket list of places to visit in Paris.” Kurt bites his lip and wishes he’d never mentioned his bucket list – that’s something special between Blaine and himself. However, remembering the photos of Blaine with the new man in his life, Kurt is determined to get past Blaine and his feelings towards him. ***** Kurt is glad that he downloaded the audio guide app of the Versailles Palace the previous night. Kurt and Antoine have toured all the impressive areas inside the palace - the King’s Apartments, the Hall of Mirrors, the Queen’s Apartments, and the Chapel, but also lesser known areas such as the Gallery of Battles, and the apartments of Louis XV’s daughters. “This palace is so ornate and over the top. I can’t believe the royal family could live like this for a hundred years.” “Now you know why the French Revolution happened. Come with me, mon chouchou. We now need to explore les jardins (the gardens). If Kurt thought the palace itself was over the top and impressive, nothing has prepared him for the gardens. There are meticulous manicured lawns with paved paths creating intricate designs. The flower beds are mainly empty on this winter’s weekend, but the shrubs provide sufficient greenery. There are statues in small pools of water dotted throughout the gardens. “And I thought the palace was the main attraction. These gardens are something else altogether,” Kurt observes. “We’ve only seen a small portion of the gardens. There are almost 2,000 acres at the Château de Versailles. We’ve visited the most famous parts.” Antoine checks his watch and then adds, “Come with me. Let’s grab some lunch.” They stop in a small café, get ham and cheese baguettes and mineral water to go, and return to the gardens. They sit on a wrought iron bench, which is cold. However, Antoine soon has Kurt laughing with jokes and trivia about Marie Antoinette. “I had absolutely no idea that the children’s song ‘Jack and Jill’ was about Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette getting beheaded. It certainly puts a different slant to ‘and Jill came tumbling after’.” Suddenly, classical music is heard from speakers throughout the gardens and the swishing sound of water starts. Kurt looks up and sees the fountains come to life with spouting water. “You are in luck, mon chouchou. Usually the fountains aren’t switched on until spring.” Kurt puts the remainder of his baguette into his messenger bag and rushes from fountain to fountain to see the spectacular water shows. He makes sure to see the Latone, Saturn, Apollo and Neptune fountains. Antoine remains on the bench and laughs at Kurt’s enthusiasm as he takes photo after photo. The train journey back to Paris takes just over an hour and they arrive at the Left Bank in the late afternoon. “The day is still young. Come to my studio, Kurt. I’ll cook dinner and show you my artwork.” Kurt agrees and they wander back to Antoine’s place. After climbing the stairs up to the fourth floor, Antoine quickly opens the door and leads Kurt in. It is a large studio apartment. Half the space is taken by canvases, easels, and paints. The wooden floors are old and unrestored, with oil paint splatters making interesting patterns. There’s an old upholstered couch and a large king-sized bed, which are surrounded by studio lights – Kurt guesses this is also used for the models. There is a small kitchenette along one side and a door leading to the bathroom. “It’s modest, but it works for me. When I get inspired, I can paint right away. I’m planning to make a cassoulet for dinner. Have you eaten this before? “No, what is it?” “I think you Americans would say pork and beans, but it’s a lot more than this. It takes a while to cook, so let me get the casserole prepared and then we can relax.” Kurt helps Antoine with the prep work by chopping onions, carrots, tomatoes, and garlic. Antoine combines this with cubes of pork, ham, beans, and fresh herbs into a cast iron casserole dish and slides it into the oven. He then pours Campari and mineral water in two glasses to create an aperitif. “Santé, mon chouchou,” Antoine toasts as he clinks their glasses together. Antoine takes Kurt by the hand and leads him to the coach. Antoine then heads to the studio’s corner, where there are at least a dozen oil paintings leaning on the wall in the corner. One by one, he takes a painting and places it on the easel for Kurt to view. The first ones are landscapes of the French countryside – mainly fields of poppies and wheat. The next few paintings are classic stills of fruit and flowers. The last ones are portraits of young men in the nude. “You certainly cover the full range of subjects for your art. Which do you enjoy painting the most?” Kurt asks. “The landscapes are the best sellers and help pay the rent. I paint the others when I feel inspired, and currently I enjoy painting the portraits. I do charcoal sketches at first and then the oil painting later.” Kurt can see that Antoine is passionate about his art, as he rants on about the meaning of each painting, with hands waving everywhere and the same look in his eyes as Rachel gets when talking about Broadway. Antoine puts ‘Lucie’ by Pascal Obispo on the sound system and soon they are discussing other things they plan to do in Paris together. The meal starts with a terrine de campagne (country terrine or pate), served with crusty baguette and red wine. Kurt only nibbles at it because he can smell the rich cassoulet cooking in the oven. The main course is soon served with a simple side salad. “I can see why this is a popular dinner in France. The tastes go together so well and it’s hearty for a cold winter’s night.” “I’m glad you like it, mon chouchou. This recipe is from mami Emmeline. Apparently, she got the recipe from the executive chef at the La Fontaine de Mars restaurant decades ago. God knows how she pried it out of Jean-Guy Loustau.” After the dinner dishes have been cleared, Antoine places an artesian cheese platter and baguette on the coffee table and they relax on the couch. “I’m afraid that I can’t eat too much cheese if I want to be able to get into the suits that I model. I already broke my diet with the ham and cheese baguette at lunchtime.” Kurt’s cheeks flush when he sees Antoine’s glance move from his head to his toes. “I really don’t think you have anything to worry about. You are parfait (perfect) in my eyes. I’ll put this away, but I insist you join me for a digestif. Would you prefer cognac, armagnac or calvados?” Kurt has never tasted any liquors before, so he asks for the only one he recognizes. “Cognac, s'il te plaît.” After the drinks have been poured, Kurt takes a sip and finds he can’t stand the taste of cognac. He thinks about how he could get rid of the drink without Antoine noticing. He doesn’t want to appear unsophisticated, but there’s no way he’s finishing this drink. “So tell me about your life in New York City?” Antoine asks. Kurt talks about working at the Spotlight Diner and auditioning for roles in the theater without ever getting call-backs. He then goes on to relate the story of his Vogue internship interview and how he became a model that very same day. “What an incredible story, Kurt. What do you hope for in the future?” “I’m not entirely sure. I want to continue modeling until I get bored with it or people stop paying me lots of money. I’m thinking of studying musical theater and taking another stab at Broadway. I’m also thinking about studying fashion and get into the designing end of things. But for now, I’m enjoying Paris.” “Exactement, mon chouchou. You are young and don’t need to weigh yourself down with plans. This is the time you should live for the moment.” “What do you hope for in the future, Antoine?” “I hope that I continue to be inspired to paint, and people are inspired to buy my artwork. I want a place to live, good friends, and the freedom to do what I want. Une vie simple (a simple life).” When Antoine puts it that way, a life free of commitments and society’s pressures sounds ideal. However, Kurt does want to put down roots eventually, and get married and have kids. “There is one more thing I hope for, and as luck has it, you are here tonight.” Antoine slowly leans towards Kurt and presses their lips together. Kurt can feel the sensation of Antoine’s soft warm lips and it feels nice and comfortable. Kurt is pleased that he’s wanted by such an attractive and nice guy. But there aren’t any fireworks or butterflies in his stomach like he felt with his first real kiss. Kurt doesn’t think anything can compare to kissing Blaine. However, for now, it’s a welcome feeling. “Stay the night, mon chouchou,” Antoine whispers. Kurt jerks away quickly as if he has been burnt by fire. “I’m not ready for that… for things.” “Kurt, look at me. I’m not expecting anything. Okay, maybe more of the kissing. We can take this at any speed that you’re comfortable with. I’m very interested in you and enjoy your company. To see Paris through Kurt Hummel’s eyes is quite magical. So please, spend the night. I can always sleep on the couch if you want.” Kurt likes Antoine. He’s fun to be with, and this would take their relationship - can he call it that? – one step further. Kurt knows Antoine well enough to know he’s not a predator and will honor his word. But something holds him back. He can’t get Blaine out of his mind, and isn’t ready to take things further with Antoine yet. Kurt slowly shakes his head. “I think I better call it a night.” Author’s notes Song Marley Rose writes the lyrics and Blaine composes – “All or Nothing” performed by the Glee cast. Next up: Kurt models at the Paris Fashion Week opens and the Westerville Monarch House opens. It will be posted on Saturday.

#my fic: Butterfly Wings #klaine fanfiction #klaine fan fic #hkvoyagewrites

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