#edit: link to the interview in replies - I wasn’t remembering quite right

[princesscharlesofmonaco]

.

[kieranfm]

𝟏𝟏𝐏𝐌  ,  𝐑𝐎𝐘𝐀𝐋𝐄  𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆  𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌  ,  𝐁𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐍  ;  𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴  𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵  𝘣𝘦  𝘩𝘰𝘸  𝘪𝘵 𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴  ››   𝐊𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐍  +  𝐄𝐕𝐀𝐍 

it  was  one  of  their  bigger  shows  of  the  tour ; 1,200  people  ,  19,589  off  of  selling  out  madison  square  garden  .  so  why  didn’t  it  feel  like  it  ?  usually  there  was  a  high  crackling  in  his  veins  ,  alighting  him  from  the  inside  out  ,  as  he  left  behind  the  screaming  of  a  crowd  that  wanted  more  .  but  kieran  had  felt  more  when  they’d  stepped  off  stage  after  playing  to  520   ,  or  even  200  ,  than  he  did  coming  off  stage  of  the  royale  tonight  .  he  couldn’t  put  his  finger  on  it  .  the  reason  WHY  it  felt  like  he  hadn’t  just  done  what  he  did  every  other  night  before  .  the  reason  WHY  the  high  wasn’t  quite  so  bright  .  the  reason  WHY  he’d  caught  the  same  look  from  mikey  ; as  he’d  wished  him  good  luck  ,  &  conan  ; as  they’d  caught  eyes  during  the  opening  notes  of  cheer  up  baby  .  the  same  look  he  knew  all  too  well ;  as  if  they  were  waiting  for  him  to  tip  over  an  edge  he  hadn’t  walked  the  line  of  in  MONTHS  .  .  .  everything  was  good  .  wasn’t  it  ?  a  smile  pushed  its  way  onto  his  lips  as  his  feet   hit  solid  ground  &  one  crowd  turned  into  another  smaller  one  ,  full  of  congratulations  for  surviving  ANOTHER  show  .  but  just  like  the  congratulations  was  like  clockwork  ,  kieran  still  found  himself  looking  for  the  one  person  that  had  been  missing  from  the  start  .  the  one  person  that  only  came  in  the  form  of  words  lit  up  on  his  screen  .  words  that  seemed  to  come  few  & far  between  —  or  at  all  more  recently  .  maybe  that  was  why  everything  felt  OFF  ;  there  had  been  no  ‘  knock  ‘em  dead  ,  baby ’  to  send  him  out  on  stage  with  &  he  couldn’t  remember  the  last  time  he’d  gone  on  without  it  .  hell  ,  he  couldn’t  even  remember  the  last  time  he’d  gone  this  long  without  a  WORD  from  her  .  but  with  ruairi’s  hands  falling  heavily  upon  his  shoulders  ,   &  an  airy  voice  that  put  him  on  edge  filled  the  air  ,  he  let  himself  be  pulled  along  in  the  tide  .  clinging  onto  the  quiet  embers  that  popped &  crackled  away  in  his  veins  as  the  high  fought  its  way  through  the  haze  of  worry  .  she  was  busy  .  that’s  all  it  was  .  

so  why  did  it  feel  like  something  was  wrong  ?

it  was  enviable  though  .  the  way  in  which  kieran  ALWAYS  found  his  way  back  to  evan  ,  because  even  when  a  whole  ocean  separated  them  he  always  found  her  way  back  to  her  .  the  only  thing  was  ,  it  seemed  as  if  evan  wasn’t  finding  her  way  back  to  him  .  because  as  the  noise  of  the  dressing  room  died  away  ,  people  going  their  seperate  ways  to  either  begin  the  pack  up  for  a  day  on  the  road  tomorrow  or  to  take  their  celebrations  elsewhere  ,   he’d  slipped  his  phone  from  the  pocket  of  his  jacket  .  the  cool  surface  settling  in  his  palm  as  the  glow  of  his  screen  reflected  back  the  same  thing  it  had  done  earlier  when  he’d  given  up  waiting  &  tucked  it  away  for  safe  keeping  ;  NOTHING  .  there  was  absolutely  nothing  . his  top  teeth  gnawed  at  his  bottom  lip  as  he  pulled  up  the  bottom  of  his  screen  in  hopes  that  it  would  reveal  anything  other  than  his  own  texts  :

         21/07/21  8:43pm          📲 i  can  only  assume  you  didn’t  pick  up  my  call  earlier  bc  you               were  too  busy  making  saint   valentine  fall  in  love  with  you          📲  but  it’s  nearly  2am  for  you  and  i   ,  personally  ,  think  it’s  rude  i                  haven’t  heard  ANYTHING  about  how  it  went  yet

         22/07/21  4:02am          📲  alright  you          📲  it’s  9am  there  and  i  woke  up  to  nothing          📲  i’m  calling  you  the  minute  i  finish  this  morning  radio  shit

         22/07/21  9:05am          📲  i’m  the  one  that’s  mean  to  be  the  gd  enigma  , evan

         22/07/21  10:00am            📲  well  ,  call  me  whenever  you’re  free  bc  i  would  like  to  know  if                   saint  valentine  swiped  our  best  photographer  from  us  

         23/07/21  3:02pm          📲  we  just  wrapped  soundcheck  for  the  day  and  we  go  on  at  9:15                 tonight          📲  so  i  can  talk  if  you’re  free

         23/07/21  3:43pm          📲  the  lads  said  they  haven’t  heard  anything  from  you  either            📲  is  everything  okay  ?          📲  has  something  happened  ?

what  the  HELL  was  going  on  ? surely  if  something  had  happened  to  her  eloise  ,  or  isla  ,  would  have  called  him  .  .  .  no  —  no  ,  she  was  busy  ; caught  up  in  editing  photos  for  saint  valentine  .  he’d  seen  how  focused  she  could  get  on  her  work  sometimes  &  with  him  not  there  to  pull  away  physically  the  time  could  EASILY  get  away  from  her  .  but  that  did  nothing  to  settle  the  cloud  that  dampened  the  glowing  embers  that  were  a  sad  excuse  from  his  post-show  high  . the  bottom  of  his  phone  tapped  against  his  palm  as  his  eyes  lifted  to  focus  upon  the  wall  above  the  wooden  clothes  rack  his  jacket  hung  on  .  it  didn’t  make  sense though  .  .  . she’d  been  shooting  for  saint  valentine  .  she  would  have  called  after  that  .  she  SHOULD  have  called  after  that  .  where  the  hell  was  she  ? “  you  okay  ?  ”  conan’s  voice  forced  his  eyes  to  refocus  ,  bringing  him  back  down  to  reality  ,  &  turn  his  attention  towards  him  .   silence  passed  between  them  for  a  split  second  as  kieran  tried  to  place  the  look  hidden  within  conan’s  features  .  they’d  been  friends  all  their  lives  .  he  wasn’t  imagining  the  smothered  worry  hidden  within  his  eyes  ,  “  what  do  you  know  ?  ” ��  what  ?  ” he  lifted  his  phone  towards  conan  ,  “  evan  — ” &  there  it  was  ,  the  flicker  of  worry  break  through  the  cracks  .  it  was  all  he  needed  . “  i  asked  you  earlier  if  you’d  heard  from  her  .  ” “  i  haven’t  .  ” “  but  you  know  why  she’s  not  answering  me  ,  don’t  you  ?  ” “  guys  —  yo  ,  what  t’e  fuck’s  going on  —  ” but  kieran  ignored  ruairi  as  he  watched  conan’s  jaw  work  from  side  to side ,  “  what  the  fuck  aren’t  you  telling  me  ,  conan  ?  ”   but  it  was  mikey’s  voice  that  answered  him  & kieran’s  eyes  snapped  instantly  towards  him  ,  “  it’s  not  his  fault  ,  kid  .  i  told  him  not  to  say  anything  until  after  the  show  .  ”  kieran’s  gaze  flickered  towards  conan  for  a  moment  ,  noting  the  apologetic  look  in  his  eye  ,  before  he  looked  back  at  mikey  .  “  i  ,  we  ,  needed  you  out  there  with  a  clear  mind  .  ” “  why  wouldn’t  my  mind  be  clear  ?  ”   mikey’s  hand  lifted  to  rub  at  his  jaw  before  he  pointed  towards  the  couch  in  the  middle  of  the  room  ,   “  come  sit  down  .  i  have  something  to  show  you  .  ”

the  nausea  had  set  in  the  minute  he’d  taken  a  step  towards  the  couch  .  but the  minute  mikey  had  handed  him  the  article  brought  up  on  his  ipad   &  begun  to  explain ,  kieran  felt  SICK  .  his  fingers  curled  around  the  edges  of  the  ipad  tight  enough  to  press  harshly  into  his  flesh  .  no  —  NO  .  this  wasn’t  happening  .  it  made  NO  fucking  sense  .  Bex  &  The  Found’s  Kieran  Walsh  Confirm  Rumors  are  True  .  .  .  speculated  to  be  growing  intimately  closer  .  .  .  make  it  known  outside  of  their  inner  circle  .  he  couldn’t  stop  reading  it  .  he  couldn’t  stop  starring  at  the  photos  .  hoping  that  any  moment  one  of  them  would  yell  gotcha  or  the  article  would  simply  vanished  .  but  no  matter  how  hard  he  tried  or  how  long  he  waited  ,  nothing  changed  .  the  words  were  still  there  ,  plain  as  day  &  painting  him  as  a  liar  .  the  photos  were  still  there  ,  plain  as  day  & painting  him  as  an  ASSHOLE  .  this  couldn’t  be  happening  .   “  why  didn’t  you  tell  me  .  ”  his  voice  was  low  ,  dangerously  so  . “  we  needed  you  to  have  a  —  ” “  a  clear  fucking  head  ,  i  know  .  but  T’IS  —  ”  he  tossed  the  ipad  onto  the  table  between  them  as  dark  eyed  focused  on  mikey  ,  “  you  should  have  fucking  told  me  as  soon  as  you  found  out  .  ” “  jani  only  called  me  this  morning  .” “  it’s  been  out  for  T’REE  fucking  days  ,  mikey  .  ”  his  hands  jutted  out  towards  the  discarded  ipad  ,  “  what  t’e  FUCK  has  she  been  doing  for  t’ree  days  t’en  ?  she’s  our  fucking  pr  manager  isn’t  she  ? isn’t  it  her  job  to  look  out  for  shit  like  t’is  ? ” “  kieran  —  ”  conan’s  voice  broke  through  the  haze  &  his  fingers  curled  into  a  fist  as  he  turned  towards  him  , “  what  ?  ”   “  take  a  breath  .  ” kieran’s  gaze  darted  frantically  over  conan’s  features  .  but  as  conan  held  his  gaze  ,  the  anger  within  him  teetered  &  his  breath  hitched  in  his  chest  .  evan  had  to  know  this  was  all  bullshit  .  she  HAD  to  .  .  .  but  the  timing  of  it  all  was  too  much  to  gloss  over  .  the  photo  had  come  out  on  the  21st  &  he  hadn’t  heard  a  SINGLE  thing  from  her  since  .  she  wasn’t  just  busy  .  she  believed  it  . his  voice  cracked  as  he  spoke  ,  “  this  is  evan  .  ” “  we  know  .  ” it  was  then  he  took  a  look  around  at  the  four  that  sat  along  side  him  .  features  sharpened  by  anger  softening  as  he  dragged  in  a  deep  ,  shaky  breath  ,  “  t’is  is  all  bullshit  .  ”   but  as  ruairi’s  features  broke  from  a  second  kieran’s  brow  arched  ,  “  is  it  ?  ”   “  i’m  sorry  ?  ” “  well  —  i  just  mean  ,  DID  somet’ing  happen  between  you  two ?  ” he  froze  for  a  moment  .  processing  ruairi’s  words  &  trying  to  figure  out  if  he’d  heard  them  right  .  but  before  he  could  even  form  a  reply  ,  a  pillow  was  thrown  directly  into  ruairi’s  face  with  a  heavy  thump from  conan’s  direction  . “  what  kind  of  fucking  question  is  t’a  ,  mate  ?  ”   “  okay  ,  okay  —  stupid  question  . ”  ruairi  fumbled  with  the  pillow  down  as  he  brought  it  down  his  lap  ,  kieran  rolling  his  eyes  as  he  let  out  a  breath  &  bring  a  hand  to  rub  at  his  forehead  .  if  it  was  ANYONE  else  ,  it  would  have  be  the  last  straw  .  but  as  ruairi’s  gaze  darting  between  four  faces  that  looked  at  him  expectantly  ,  kieran  couldn’t  be  mad  as  he  explained   “  but  look  .  i  told  you  i  t’ought  she  seemed  t’  be  weaselling  in  a  lot  of  places  that  are  usually  made  for  evan  &  she  seemed  to  cling  onto  you  so  —  i  t’ought  since  no  one  seemed  to  WANT  to  ask  it  ,  i'd  ask  it .  just  t’  be  sure  . ”kieran’s  hand  dropped  to  his  lap  as  he  shook  his  head  ,  exhaling  a  breath  ,   “  i’m  not  cheating  on  evan  wit’  bex  .  ”  he  paused  for  a  moment  as  his  fingers  linked  together  ,  eyes  darting  towards  the  screen  of  mikey’s  ipad  ,  “  you  all  were  t’ere  .  we  were  taking  her  back  t’  t’e  bloody  hotel  because  she  was  DRUNK  .  ” his  gaze  were  frantic  once  more  as  they  darted  between  conan  ,  ruairi  &  ,  adam  ,  before  settling  on  mikey  ,  “  we  know  ,  kid  .  but  we’re  not  the  ones  you  need  to  be  telling  that  to  right  now  .  ”  he  was  right  .  it  had  been  THREE  days  since  this  had  dropped  &  all  he’d  said  to  evan  was  things  about  her  god  damn  saint  valentine  job  .  he’d  kept  the  whole  walking  out  of  the  interview  from  her  to  stop  her  from  freaking  out  over  rumours  of  him  being  with  bex  .  but  now  here  it  was  plastered  across  a  website  for  all  to  see  .  he  didn’t  want  to  think  what  was  going  on  in  her  head  .  “  yeah  ,  yeah  ,  you’re  right  . ”  his  hands  were  shaky  as  he  reached  for  his  phone  jean  pockets  ,  so  much  so  that  it  took  a  few  attempts  to  be  able  to  press  her  name  on  his  list  of  recent  calls  before  he  brought  it  to  her  ear  .  one  ring  ,  two  rings  ,  three  rings  ,  four  rings .  .  .  voice  message  .  he  pulled  the  phone  from  his  ear  &  hung  up  .  “  fuck  .  ” “  it’s  early  in  the  morning  t’ere  ,  right  ?  she’s  probably  asleep  .  ”  adam  ,  always  the  voice  of  reason  . “  fuck  t’at  .  she  can  wake  up  .  ”  ruairi  ,  an  idiot  but  the  most  inline  with  the  thoughts  in  his  own  mind  .  she  did  make  him  promise  to  call  no  matter  the  time  .  “  try  again  .  ”&  he  did  as  took  in  a  breath  as  he  pressed  her  contact  again  ,  lighting  his  phone  up  before  he  brought  it  to  his  ear  . &  he  tried  again &  again  &  again  .  he  tried  until  finally  ,  the  line  on  the  other  end  broke  .  he  sat  up  straighter  ,  forcing  everyone  around  him  to  tense  .  nothing  .  no  voice  message  .  he  took  the  phone  away  from  his  ear  for  a  moment  to  see  the  time  ticking  over  .   “  what’s  going  —  ”  but  kieran  waved  ruairi  away  as  he  brought  the  phone  back  to  his  ear  .  hesitating  for  one  more  second  before  he  finally  spoke  ,  “  evan  ?  ”  another  pause  ,  “  don’t  hang  up  .  please  .  ”  he  shifted  to  the  edge  of  the  couch  ,  “  i  can  explain  everyt’ing  .  ”

[pinkbubbles-and-bigtroubles]

Wicked Game

Another round of the 5sos fic writing collab brought to you by @maluminspace​ and @h0tsos​. There are so many amazing writers involved and I highly recommend checking out the event master list linked below. Thank you to the Sagittarius sorceress  @sexgodashton​ for being very caring, patient, and kind while helping me tame this monster.  Massive shout out to @ghostofmashton​ for the photo edits, especially Ashton’s eye. that’s my favorite. You’re a rock star. Texas girls forever, love you to bits!

Event Master List

Prompt: Chef AU with Cashton

Dialogue Prompt: “Kissing you is all I’ve thought about since the moment we met” First person to spot it in the fic and send me a screenshot gets a personalized blurb request.

Word Count: 20K+ Team Long Winded Bitch strikes again, this will be posted in multiple parts over the next couple of days. This first part is about 5K

Rating: 18+ Slash fic Strong language, alcohol and drug use, and a misogynistic and racist comment. Sexual scenes including masturbation, toys, voyeurism, oral, and anal sex.

Summary: Ashton is ready to move on with his life after his painful divorce from Luke and the demise of the restaurant they’d built together. With the help of his protegee and sous chef Hima Singh, Ashton is ready to take on opening weekend of his new restaurant Anne-Marie’s. Calum is a reporter filling in on an assignment and is surprised when his past comes back to haunt him. Hima arranges an interview that takes an unexpected turn between the two men.

Part 1

"Great job, guys, we couldn't have had a better opening weekend. Thank you so much for making it happen," Ashton told the two staff members in the kitchen who'd closed as he unlocked the back door.

"No problem boss, glad to be here. We made money this weekend. See ya tomorrow," DeSean told him as he left.

Ashton locked the door behind them and walked out into the empty dining room, his steel-toed boots echoing heavily on the distressed blonde faux hardwood floors. He stopped to adjust a few tables, double-checking sightlines and looking over the layout of the tables. The upside-down chair legs cast long shadows in the soft pink neon glow. 

He looked up at the sign above the bar that read "Anne-Marie's." He smiled, not caring if anyone thought it was cheesy to name his restaurant after his mother.  His mom had always been his lucky star, and he couldn't have gotten through the last couple of years without her. 

"You look so serious,' a voice behind him startled him out of his thoughts.

"What the fuck Hima," Ashton yelped, clutching his chest dramatically. "I thought you were still in the kitchen." 

"The guys didn't leave me anything to do so I decided to change and have a drink with you before my brother gets here," she tossed her bag and chef's coat onto a stool grinning at Ashton. She hopped up to sit on the bar before swinging her legs around as she pushed off. Landing without a wobble she reached under the bar and grabbed a bottle of black label Bushmill's Irish Whiskey and two short glasses. 

"Straight for the good stuff, I like the way you think," Ashton smirked, taking a seat at the bar. 

"To simply mark the occasion, of course" she poured them each a shot before adding a splash of water.  She raised her glass, "Cheers to you, Boss, and to Anne-Marie's." 

They clinked glasses. "Couldn't have done it without you," he replied before taking a sip.

"Awwwwww thanks Ashtton, " she grinned at him. "Damn that's good, the whiskey makes me forgive the Irish for how dreadful Guinness is. Did you see Kevin Mackie snuck in last night? I expect a write up in the Metro on Tuesday and I know you saw Patricia Bennett," she rolled her eyes at the name.

"She makes herself hard to miss," he snorted. "I missed Mackie though. Why didn't you tell me?" 

"Because we were busy and I didn't have time for you to get all giggly and nervous. He got the crab puffs and the Mac and Brie and inhaled them. You were right about the nutmeg; I thought he was going to lick the plate."  She opened two bottles of beer before hopping back over the bar and taking a seat next to Ashton. 

"How did this weekend compare to the opening of ‘Lune Rouge’? Was it as good as the first time?" Hima finished her whiskey before shaking a pack of Camel Crush cigarettes out of her bag. 

"If you get ashes on the bar Paloma will flip her shit," Ashton warned. 

"I'm not afraid of her," Hima snipped, but she made sure to be careful. No sense in antagonizing their temperamental main bartender. 

"This opening was definitely smoother than the first one. We didn't know what the hell we were doing. The first night we ran out of duck fat and gorgonzola before the dinner rush was over. My sous chef's sister had to run to Whole Foods for emergency supplies. We got lucky the press ignored us for a couple weeks until we got a little buzz going. This time I knew what to expect but there was also more pressure," he paused, taking a pull on the bottle of beer. "This time I  expected to succeed right out of the gate." 

"You succeeded there," Hima stubbed her cigarette out in her empty glass. "I really need to quit." 

"You could get a puff bar and start vaping," he teased.

"I'm not a fucking junior varsity cheerleader. I can take my cancer like a big girl." She checked her phone. "Ugh it's almost nine, and it's gonna take me at least thirty minutes to get home. You're closing tomorrow with me right?" 

"Yeah, I'll be in around 11 all this week. Rafi is handling brunch with Gloria but I want to be here," Ashton double-checked his phone. "Tuesday I have that interview with Men's Life and they just emailed me." 

Hima saw his nose scrunch up as he read.  "What's wrong?" 

"I thought they were sending Taj, but instead of rescheduling the interview, they're sending Calum Hood," Ashton sneered. 

"Chill dude, it's not that bad," Hima was confused by the venom in his voice. "Yeah he's a bit of a goof, but he's hot and not a pretentious dickhead. They could've sent Felipe." 

"True, true," he grumbled as he saw a black Honda pull up outside. "Kabir is here." 

"Shit, ok see you tomorrow, Boss," she grabbed her stuff, gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, and ran out the door, locking it behind her. 

Ashton walked through once again. He made sure the lights were off in the employee lounge. Since many of his staff members used public transport or worked two jobs, Rafi had convinced Ashton to provide his staff with a decent place to take a break and get ready before or after work.  He built a small shower stall, lockers, and provided clean towels, and as his new kitchen manager, Rafi took responsibility for maintaining the space. Ashton took a last look at the bar, double-checking for any stray ashes Hima might have missed before setting the alarm, locking up, and heading home. 

Calum opened the email from his editor and swore loud enough to wake the scruffy brown terrier mix snoozing at his feet.

Hey Cal,

Sorry it's such short notice but Taj's mom had an emergency and I need you to cover for him. He's interviewing Ashton Irwin, remember him? He had the Lune Rouge a few years ago. Well, he's got a new place, diverse staff and we're doing a feature. Maybe even the cover if he's really pretty. Tuesday at 2 pm I'll send you the address and details after I talk to Taj. Oh, and my friend Nick is coming into town and I told him you'd show him around. It's been a while since you had a date but you'll like him. He's kinda short, but he's got big muscles, huge dick, perfect credit. You could do a lot worse.

Call me tomorrow

Sham

This isn't good, this isn't good. Calum's mind was racing. He rubbed his temples trying to think. Taj was notoriously reliable and responsible, so if he was taking off on short notice, it must be serious. It was just his bad luck it was Ashton Irwin. 

He usually covered travel and sports for Men's Life while Taj handled food and fashion. Calum didn't mind taking back food and dining for the time being. He'd started in that industry, working as a line cook while he went to school for journalism. He'd quit both when a flirty, older professor recommended him for an internship at California Culture and he managed to land a real job. Professor Davis had been highly disappointed to lose him as a student and catch him making out with her son who went to the same college. He'd found a tiny shitty apartment, spent his life on the road for work, and sent every penny he didn't need to live on to his family. He didn't even date for the longest time until he met a handsome blonde with sharp features and a sharper tongue.

He couldn't remember if it was four years ago or five, but he clearly recalled his review of Lune Rouge had not been nice. Calum was in a toxic relationship with the restaurant's sous chef at the time. He'd let his personal life spill over into his work for the first and only time. It wasn't something Calum was proud of and while he felt he owed Ashton an apology, the right time and place hadn't presented itself yet. He'd run into Ashton twice since then. The first time he was with his husband, and Calum wasn't about to humble himself in front of Luke. The second encounter came not long after their marriage broke up. Calum was dating a photographer at the time, when Ashton came to the photographer’s art show. They were briefly introduced but Ashton's chilly demeanor discouraged any further conversation, so Calum avoided him the rest of the evening. He remembered being unable to stop staring at the handsome chef with the sad eyes. He'd always hoped they'd bump into each other under better circumstances. I guess an interview will have to do.

********

Ashton sat out on his condo balcony overlooking Echo Park, taking in the night air and enjoying a second bottle of IPA. Hima was right, the opening had been a smash. Anne-Marie's had the best staff he'd ever had the pleasure of working with, and aside from a small mix up between gruyere and Havarti cheese, the opening had been smooth. The alcohol hummed in his veins as he allowed his mind to wander back five years. 

Lune Rouge's opening had been a chaotic mess of brilliance, balls, and blind luck. He was a year out of culinary school, newly married, and ecstatically in love with his husband. Luke was a trust fund baby; his dad ran a major studio. He put up the funding for their restaurant which procured a prime spot in trendy West Hollywood. Ashton had the idea of taking traditional French cuisine and turning it into "pub grub." Luke created a kitschy tacky cool interior with the ambiance of fairy light curtains, vintage 90's movie posters, an eye-popping pink and aqua come scheme.  Featuring a bartender who doubled as a DJ, the restaurant became an immediate hot spot.  

 The culinary press treated them like rock stars and it went to their head.  Ashton was portrayed as the mysterious boy genius, boisterous and foul-mouthed, he ran the back of the house, oversaw the business and created the menu. Luke, who's blonde-haired blue-eyed good looks were regularly described as "angelic", was the frontman, often schmoozing in the dining room, taking song requests, or slinging drinks behind the bar. They worked so well together until they didn't. 

Ashton shook his head, not allowing himself to linger on negative thoughts, not when he'd fought to regain balance. He'd spent the last year freeing himself from the wreckage of his partnership with Luke. Still, tonight after the opening, alone and overlooking the city lights, his mind kept going back to the exhilaration of that first opening night. After they stayed late with the crew for a drink to celebrate, Luke's hand wandered up Ashton's thigh causing him to almost choke on his tequila. Soon Luke started whining about all the paperwork he had to do before they could go home. The crew quickly bagged it out of there, not wanting to get roped into more work. 

Ashton swallowed at the memory before glancing around at the other balconies. It was late enough most of his neighbors should be asleep. Already hard, he reached down and squeezed his bulge through the thin fabric of his pajama pants. 

After letting everyone else out of Lune Rouge that first night he'd been puzzled to find Luke no longer at the bar. He heard noises coming from the office. When he opened the door, he found his husband, shirtless, and waiting for him. 

Ashton slid his hand into his pants swiping his thumb across the leaking tip. He heard a sliding glass door open and froze in place until he realized it was his neighbor below him chatting on the phone. He stroked himself and let his mind wander back to Luke. It had been too long since Ashton got laid, and Luke was still the best sex he'd ever had. He shuddered and bit his lip thinking about the way Luke grinned at him as he opened the office door. Before Ashton could say a word, Luke was sinking to his knees. A bit awkward given his long legs, but it didn't take long before he was letting Ashton fuck his throat. The thought of those blue eyes looking up at him as Ash's hands tangled in those blonde curls caused a moan to slip out, and his neighbor stopped talking at the sound. 

"I think somebody is having sex," he heard her whisper. He almost laughed. 

His dick was twitching flat against his stomach as he ducked back inside his bedroom, kicked off his pants, and grabbed a small tube of lube. Ashton shut off the light and stepped back outside. 

The breeze cooled his fevered skin as he stood there looking out at the city and stroking his dick. The idea that he could possibly be seen turned him on almost as much as his trip down memory lane.  He swallowed another moan thinking about how Luke's lips felt against his, their tongues tangled until he pulled back looking at Ashton with mischief and love before giving him a wink and turning around. 

Ashton's breath caught in his throat as he worked his cock thinking about it. The red and white striped pants his husband pranced around in that night had been blissful torment working him up until the moment he slid those pants down and bent over the desk.

"Come take what's yours, my love, I've been wanting you all night," he cooed, wiggling his hips. 

Luke was a whiny boy when he was getting pounded, and the memory sent Ashton closer to the edge. He felt his knees tremble as he increased his speed, the city lights becoming starbursts in his vision as he edged himself closer. At the moment of release, he swore he could feel Luke pushing back against him taking him in as deep as he could go. 

When Ashton opened his eyes, he found himself sweaty and streaked with his own seed. He was amazed he'd managed to stay quiet, but his neighbor was chatting away obliviously. He went back inside, cracked another beer, and took it with him into the shower, trying to focus on his day tomorrow.

 It was after midnight by the time he went to bed. His body was exhausted but the adrenaline from the opening weekend hadn't quite worn off. He found himself still restless and playing on his phone. After scrolling through Instagram, he found himself looking at the page belonging to the Galway Grill-- Ashton cringed at the name-- an Irish pub and microbrewery very recently opened by Luke and his boyfriend Finn. 

Ashton simmered with resentment perusing the menu; they'd recycled at least half of the Lune Rouge recipes, his creations. He'd heard they'd rushed their opening to launch the week before Anne-Marie's, and even with Daddy's deep pockets the decor looked slapped together, all flash no class. He came to a picture of the happy couple and couldn't help but notice how thin and tired Luke looked despite his huge smile. He felt a twinge of concern for his ex before pushing his phone away in disgust. Rolling out of bed, he headed to the bathroom and fished an orange prescription bottle out of the cabinet. He broke a valium in half and swallowed the smaller piece with a gulp of water straight from the faucet. He scrolled through different sounds on his phone before settling on crashing waves. He spent the next ten minutes stretching and practicing deep breathing to push out any lingering negativity and troubling thoughts. It was too late to drag up the past and there was nothing to be gained. Ashton crawled back under the duvet and sank into a deep sleep dreaming of blue eyes.

*********

Hima rolled into work a little after one, pleased to see a decent lunch crowd and multiple delivery orders going out. She ordered a chicken mojito wrap for her lunch and headed back to the office to find Ashton. She found him in his chair with his laptop open on his desk, a notebook in his lap while scrolling through his phone. 

"So what's the Monday morning report, Boss?" She asked, taking a seat across from him. 

Ashton was beaming as he spun the laptop around to show her. "We made 30% over our projected sales. We came in right at payroll, actually a little under if you can believe that." 

"I've checked the reservation book," she responded, flashing her phone. "We're booked solid for dinner Friday and Saturday and will call is 3 pm-7 pm. We're probably going to have to do that all week." 

"Whatever you need. This weekend is going to be bonkers. If you have any suggestions, I'd like to do something for the staff. That reminds me, I've got to talk to Maisie." He scribbled down a quick note.

"She's already on it," Hima laughed. "The servers who struggled are coming in for extra training with her and Dakota. I have no doubt she'll straighten them up or ship them out."  

Ashton nodded as Daniel knocked on the office door to bring their lunch. 

"How's it going out there? Let us know if you need anything," Ashton told him.

"We've got this, Boss, enjoy your lunch," Daniel closed the door behind him.

"He's Rafi's brother?" Hima asked before taking a big bite. 

"Cousin, Gloria is his sister," Ashton replied tucking into his roasted corn and quinoa salad with queso fresco. 

"Are you ready for this interview tomorrow? You look tired," Hima looked concerned. 

"I am tired," he shrugged. "I just wanna get this over with. I'm thrilled we're doing so well, but that's not what the press wants to talk about." 

"Don't think about it like that. Anne-Marie's will stand on her own. You've just gotta get through this week. I know it's a lot," her words were half-muffled by a napkin.

"Tomorrow is the worst of it. Mackie called and is available Tuesday at one or Thursday for dinner around four. Since he's already been here for dinner, I thought I'd let Rafi wow him this time," he told her.

"Good idea, try to keep it short because if he drinks he gets super chatty. He gave a lecture at school and came to the bar afterward; he would not shut up," she warned.

"Chatty bastard, got it," he replied and they both laughed. 

Anne-Marie's was his restaurant, but he couldn't have done it without Hima.  She was fresh out of culinary school working as a line cook at the Hilton when he'd discovered her a little over a year ago. Ashton only lasted four months before chafing under the corporate yoke and deciding to strike out on his own. She'd been the first person he'd hired for the restaurant, guaranteeing her first year's salary out of his own pocket. Rafi and DeSean were excellent managers for the kitchen, but Hima was a coach: she understood the business as a whole. He'd let her handle most of the press and promotion, and she'd scored two big interviews.

Gourmet Table had interviewed him last Thursday The piece wouldn't be that in-depth, but they'd spent three hours photographing food. He expected the Men's Life article to focus more on him and his personal life. Calum Hood was known for his sharp pen and take-no-prisoners style.  He'd given Lune Rouge two stars and a biting review during a brief stint at California Culture before he'd become known. It was five years ago, but Ashton still had the clipping somewhere. Calum had branded Lune's food as tasty and imaginative but thought the presentation was lacking in creativity. He'd ripped into the decor, calling it "somewhere between art house and frat house," and labeled Luke and Ashton "spoiled pretty boys pretending to be chefs." Luke had brushed it off with a laugh, but it still bothered Ashton. 

Unlike the Hemmings’, Ashton’s family didn't have money to throw around. He'd started at sixteen, washing dishes and peeling vegetables for Chef François at Bordeaux on Hollywood. He'd taken culinary classes after high school while working full time. Sadly, Chef François had a heart attack and retired around the time he met Luke. 

"You're not listening again," Hima complained, licking her fingers. "Rafi killed it with this wrap. The chicken is amazing, but the cucumber-mint salad and the tamarind chili mayo are next fucking level." 

"You're right, I'm not. Sorry about that," he pushed his plate aside.

"Ok, what's got you so rattled? You've handled the press like a champ up until now. Is it Mackie or Hood? Who needs to catch these hands?" Hima stood and assumed a fighter's stance, bouncing on her toes. 

"Easy there killer, I can defend my own honor. Mackie is an irritating little mosquito. He just wants gossip, but he's got enough readers so we all have to kiss his ass. Hood gave me one of the few bad reviews we got at Lune, and it stuck. He called us frat boys and said we were trying too hard," Ashton rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed by saying it out loud. 

Hima raised her eyebrows and smirked, "I love it when you're petty. You're always so perfect and Zen, it's annoying." 

"My therapist would disagree. Oh shit, that reminds me," he straightened up in his chair and grabbed his phone. "I've got an appointment at 2:30. I'll be back before 4," he dropped his eyes to the floor. 

"Ashton," her voice was soft but commanding, and he looked up. "I don't know what's going on, and if you don't want to tell me that's fine. I want you to take care of yourself, whatever that takes. Ok?" He nodded and she smiled, "You can tell Dr. Claire that I've confirmed her for 8 pm Saturday, and you're going to personally cook her dinner. We've got the 50th anniversary that night so maybe you could flex and make your Pavlova's? I'll get the berries myself." 

"It's a deal; we can comp them champagne, too. I'd better get going before I get yelled at. She's a stickler for punctuality, I think it's a British thing."  

"I'll hold things down until you get back," Hima gathered up the dishes and headed out with Ashton right behind her. 

*********

Ashton drew a deep breath and exhaled through his nose as the reporter settled in the chair across from him.  Kevin Mackie's column in L.A. Metro was the definitive opinion for restaurants on the West Coast. His readers loved the snarky tone, celeb sightings, and bitchy gossip that peppered his column. His reviews could make or break new restaurants. 

"Let me start off by saying I love the decor of this place. It's rustic, but not in that played out, hipster-in-the-woods nonsense," he leaned in and lowered his voice towards the end of the comment with a coy smirk. 

"You'll find no Mason jars here," Ashton replied, taking the bait. Kevin liked people who liked him, and his most recent column was a snarky takedown of "Pinterest style interiors." Ashton found the article tedious and uninspired, but there was no need to be antagonistic right out of the gate. 

Ashton watched as the reporter ordered his lunch from their server Zia. He guessed Kevin to be in his forties, and he thought he could see fresh hair plugs, bleached blonde, and a bit of Botox. Rumor had it, he'd recently split with his long-time girlfriend over a fling with a much younger waiter. Ashton tried not to pay attention to industry gossip. However, his personal problems made their way into the column more than once, and he couldn't help but feel the tiniest bit of satisfaction at the other man's problems. 

After they'd both ordered, Kevin sat back and took a sip of his Pellegrino water and smacked his lips. "I was here the other night and I have to admit I was prepared to be underwhelmed. A menu based on sandwiches and comfort food sounded like an upscale Applebee's, but I really liked it despite myself. I was surprised to see your main girl was on the mature side, but she's efficient as hell so I get the trade-off." 

Ashton's body tensed at the insult to Maisie, and he took a deep breath. Exhaling through his nose he forced a smile that didn't reach his eyes. Kevin was prattling on with some bit of gossip as Ashton sipped on his iced coffee. 

"So let's start with something simple and ease our way into the rough stuff," Kevin set his voice recorder on the table between them. "Tell me how you formulated your top-secret house coffee blend." 

Ashton broke into a wide grin as he described taking two months to travel and sample different beans, learn more about the roasting and blending process. Kevin sipped his coffee and nodded as if deep in thought, but his eyes kept wandering to Ashton's biceps. He'd been baking this morning so he smelled of cinnamon, his black t-shirt damp and clingy from sweating under his chef coat.

"So we sell the house blend all year, but we have single-source coffee that's seasonal, all of it fair trade," Ashton finished proudly. 

"Coffee has always been your thing if I remember correctly," Kevin said.

"True, true, and once I started roasting my own beans it became a true obsession." 

Kevin followed it up with a couple more softball questions about menu details and sandwiches. Ashton expounded on his love of food. "Cooking for someone is a simple way to show care, to be enjoyed almost as much as dining should be. Food is caring and comfort; it sustains us. It brings people together in a shared experience."

 "Ooh that's a nice pull quote," Mackie chuckled. "I love when y'all have media training. It makes the bullshit flow much smoother.

Ashton seethed but said nothing. He'd watched this man's pettiness wreck a good opening, and Ashton couldn't do that to his crew. Zia brought their lunch. Ashton noticed Kevin had also ordered the chicken mojito wrap. 

"This looks delicious. I think it's a nice touch that you've got so much, let's say diversity, in your restaurant. That you're actually letting them make their own food makes your menu more interesting. Not all restaurants get it. Please tell me you've seen how horribly Finn ripped you off for that tacky Irish pub," Kevin glanced up at him a tiny smirk playing on

"I haven't paid any attention to that," Ashton wanted to end the interview right there. 

"Oh come on, you've had to see how much he's trying to recreate the magic you and Luke once had. The menu is tired, I don't give a fuck if he is Irish. Finn has no imagination yet fancies himself an impresario. Luke's still got it though. He even asked when I was coming here. I didn't tell him of course, I'm a professional after all." 

"Of course," Ashton nodded checking out of the conversation. The reporter talked as he ate which given the wrap he was eating proved especially messy and little flecks of food kept flying his way. Ashton watched the door, nodding at customers, silently willing someone to come and save him. Kevin was still talking about himself when Hima and Zia came out of the kitchen. Ashton tried to catch their eye when he felt a hand on his arm. 

"I wanna ask you about that one," Kevin leaned in so he could almost whisper.

"Who? Hima? What about her?" Ashton was pretty sure he wasn't going to like the answer. 

"What's the deal? I've only ever seen you with Luke. Did your palette change that much? India must've been a real spiritual awakening for you huh?" Kevin winked at him, thinking he was clever. 

Ashton controlled his breathing trying to keep his temper in check. He looked over at the reporter who kept talking oblivious to the situation. 

"Who doesn't like trying something exotic. She seems like a smart cookie. She's darker than most Indian girls you see, like a rich brown butter sauce. I bet she tastes like tumeric though." 

"Get out of my restaurant" Ashton hissed, his hands gripping the table to restrain himself from physical violence. "You are not going to insult my staff, my friends, in their restaurant." 

Kevin started to speak but Ashton cut him off.

"Not another fucking word" he kept his voice at a low growl so as not to cause a scene. He noticed a couple of the closest tables were already watching them. "You've said enough and I'm barely holding back as it is. Get out of my restaurant, don't ever come back, don't ever speak to me again, and if you trash me in this review I promise you I will find you and fuck you up personally." Ashton stood up and Kevin flinched, the sight would have made him laugh if he hadn't been so furious. He stepped back and the reporter scrambled out of his seat leaving his lunch unfinished. Ashton walked back into the kitchen, Hima fast on his heels. He kicked the door open to the break room and headed for the speed bag hanging in the corner. He'd learned the hard way punching walls usually resulted in the wall winning the fight so he'd given himself something easier on his hands. 

Hima watched him from the door, his back and biceps rippling as he went two minutes at full speed. When he finally turned around she could see the anger had cooled somewhat. She hated that her boss looked incredibly sexy when he was angry. 

"Are you gonna tell me what happened?" She asked when he turned back around. 

"Nope, it'll just piss me off all over again, and I gotta get ready for another fucking interview. With a guy who already doesn't like me," Ashton put this coat back on and headed into the line to check on Rafi. 

At least the second interview can't be worse, she thought, wishing she believed it. 

*********

Calum eased his beat up Range Rover into the parking lot of Anne-Marie's amongst the Mercedes, Audi's, and Teslas. He cursed the traffic when he checked the time. He was late, and they were busy. Not a good look he thought, grabbing his bag. 

He smiled at the ladies waiting for a table before introducing himself to the impossibly serene hostess. He was quickly led to a table in an alcove not far from the kitchen. As he pulled out his voice recorder and notebook, he noticed a young woman heading his way. Her black hair was knotted tightly in a bun on top of her head, and her chef's coat had a large streak of what might be hollandaise sauce. He remembered his editor, Jacqueline, telling him Anne-Marie's had a female sous chef. He checked the notes she'd given him quickly as she was stopped by a server. Hima, Culinary Institute of America graduate, 23, Indian maybe? 

"Hello I'm Hima Singh, you must be Calum Hood," she greeted him. From up close, he noticed that her eyes were a rich golden brown and that her smile didn't reach her eyes. He chalked it up to her youth; his editor said she was 23 but she looked like a teenager. He mentally stopped himself there. He'd become jaded by one too many husband/wife teams in recent years trying to rebrand a post-divorce startup as a "new adventure." While the divorce was true, Calum knew Ashton's history.

"Yup that's me, it's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Hima," he shook her hand, relieved to see her relax a bit. 

"Chef Irwin will be out shortly. He's helping with a problem in the back" she glanced towards the kitchen, and Calum had a feeling she was lying.

"Can I get you something while you wait? Do you like coffee? We have a house blend cold brew Chef Irwin selected himself that we roast and grind on-site," she asked motioning towards the sign listing the daily selection of teas and coffee. 

"Thanks, but maybe not coffee. I'm nervous enough without more caffeine," he admitted, "but the lavender and blackberry infused lemonade sounds amazing." He smiled and her face softened. 

"Absolutely," she signaled to Zia who brought Calum his drink and a basket of warm, fluffy yeast rolls with Anne Marie's cinnamon honey butter. The smell reminded Calum he'd skipped breakfast as his stomach began to rumble. 

"So you're Chef Irwin's sous chef? I heard a rumor you were a partner as well," he asked, almost drooling as he tore into the soft bread, watching the steam escape. 

"Yes sir," Hima's smile finally reached her eyes, and she sat down across from him. "When he got his core team together for Anne Marie's, there's three of us total. Desean and Rafi are his kitchen managers, and he gave us the opportunity to buy in as minority investors, no pun intended." 

"These rolls are incredible. Please take one before I finish this whole basket and ruin my lunch. How long have the three of you worked for Ashton, excuse me, Chef Irwin?" He asked.

"Desean and Rafi were part of his Lune Rouge crew. They go way back, but he met me fresh out of school and took me under his wing," she told him.

"Did you go to CIA?" Calum was jotting down notes, getting a feel for the story.

"I wish, it's so pretty up there. My twin brother attended Brown, and I went to Johnson and Wales so we could stay close." 

"You're a twin? Is he a chef as well?" Calum asked.

"Are you kidding? He's a lawyer, of course, my parents had to have one in the family," Hima laughed. 

Zia appeared beside their table. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but Rafi is looking for you, Hima." 

A worried frown replaced her warm smile and Calum felt his nerves bubbling back up. He glanced around and caught sight of Ashton, flushed and sweaty from the heat of the kitchen, poking his head around the corner. Their eyes met, and Calum felt like he'd been hit by lightning.  

Hima saw his reaction and whipped around to see what Calum was looking at. Spotting her boss she quickly excused herself and hurried to the back. 

Zia cleared her throat and Calum realized she was still standing next to his table.

"Would you like to try Rafi's plantain skewers while you wait? It's my favorite thing here, and it'll leave room for whatever these geniuses cook up," she asked with a smile and a wink. 

He nodded and she headed to the server station to put the order in. Calum looked around and started taking notes.  The most striking thing about the decor was how they'd used diffused skylights for soft lighting to accent the Nakashima-style crafted wooden furniture.  Thanks to his Mom’s love of Antiques Roadshow when he was younger Calum discovered his preference for natural grain wood and bespoke pieces. He liked the use of pastel neon signs to complement the muted green and blue tones of the mosaic tile floors and he thought the framed pictures of what he assumed were family photos of the staff provided a really nice personal touch. The largest photo was in the bar of Ashton and his mother, the restaurant's namesake, Anne Marie. 

Zia set a plate down in front of him. "The boss will be out in a minute., Let me get you some more tea," she told him. 

The skewers consisted of chunks of pineapple, plantain, red onion, and sweet potato grilled and dusted with chili powder and brown sugar served with a yogurt sauce for dipping. 

Calum was almost finished with the first one when Ashton came out of the back, making his way towards him. The chef stopped to talk to several customers, the hostess, and Zia before he made it to Calum's table. Cal licked his fingers, wiping his hands clean with a Sani-wipe before standing up and offering a handshake. 

Ashton took his hand and Calum wasn't expecting it to feel so soft. Caught off guard Calum stammered out an introduction as he sat, but he noticed Ashton just nodded, barely listening. 

"If today isn't a good day we can reschedule," Calum sipped his tea, his throat suddenly dry.

"I'm here aren't I?" Ashton snapped. He folded his arms across his chest, his hazel eyes narrowing at Calum. "I still remember your first review you know."

Calum's pulse was racing. He hated confrontation, and he hadn't expected Ashton to kick off right away. He knew he'd better suck it up and apologize if this wasn't going to go completely off the rails. 

"Listen, I wanted to apologize. I shouldn't have been such a dickhead."  As he spoke Ashton scoffed at him and Calum felt his cheeks get warm.  "I was young and stupid. I let something personal affect that review. I'm sorry." 

"Personal? With Luke? What do you mean by that?" Ashton went from annoyed to hostile.

Calum realized he'd said something wrong but wasn't sure what exactly. He was floundering trying to think of what to say next. 

"Nothing with Luke, no no no. I was involved with Finn and we weren't getting along. It's so stupid I know, but I think you're a great chef. The new place looks incredible, and Hima is a delight." 

The anger drained from Ashton's face, leaving him looking empty and sad. His head dropped to his chest, and Calum held his breath waiting for him to speak. 

"I'm really sorry, it's not you, but I can't do this right now. Maybe we can reschedule or something. My apologies, but I have to get back to work," Ashton mumbled, standing up. 

Calum spotted Hima watching them from the podium, chewing on her lip, her black eyes wide with concern as Ashton hurried back to the kitchen. Calum started to get up but she was too quick for him. 

"Well, aren't you lucky. I'm going on my lunch and I hate to eat alone," she slid back into the seat across from him. "Please forgive my boss. He's had a rough day, but I'm better company anyway." She waved to Zia who headed their way. "You gotta try the toasted gnocchi with gorgonzola cream sauce if you like cheese, but if you want something lighter the apple carrot kale wrap is excellent too," she smiled at him, and to her relief he smiled back, both of them realizing the situation might be salvageable after all.

(A/N: y’all my tag list, much like my life, is a hot mess. I know some of what I write isn’t for everyone. If you want tagged in part 2 of this fic or my upcoming smuts, pink kink series, or dad!calum series please let me know. I apologize for my previous mistake)

@sublimehood​ @tea4sykes​ @be-ready-when-i-say-go​ @scribblesos​ @kiiiimberlyriiiicker1995​ @wildmichaelflower​ @castaway-cashton​ @damselindistressanu​ @notinthesameguey​ @cashtonasfuck​ @irwinkitten​ @mermaidcashton​ @malumsmermaid​

[rhinoswriting]

A Life On The Road - Part 4 (A Luke Hemmings FanFic)

Overview: Elizabeth and Calum have been best friends since they were 15/14 respectively. Elizabeth is from and lives in the UK, but her family lived in Sydney for a brief 2 year period which is how the two met.

With 5SOS embarking on their biggest and most ambitious world tour to date, Cal has invited Elizabeth along to work as a photographer/content creator for their social media. This is in the hopes that travelling with them will help Elizabeth achieve her dream of becoming a full-time travel writer.

Elizabeth is acquainted with the rest of 5SOS but doesn’t know them tremendously well. Obviously that changes as they are all forced to be in one another’s company for the duration of the tour. As the tour progresses and new friendships blossom, Elizabeth feels the connection between her and Luke grow more and more.

A/N: Picking up in Paris. There’s drinking and swearing in this one.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

******************************************

“That was genuinely one of the best meals I’ve ever had.” Michael announced as we exited the restaurant.

“It was incredible! I’m still so jealous of your main though, Mikey. Like, mine was good but I should have got the same as you.” I replied.

“So where to next? The night is still young and we have no obligations before tomorrow’s soundcheck.” Ashton asked the group.

A bar was obviously the unanimous decision. But I did convince them to walk aimlessly until we found a bar. That way we could see some of the landmarks lit up and I could get some content both for the band insta and to go alongside any Paris articles of mine that got picked up.

“I’m going to have my work cut out topping these,” I told the guys as I reviewed the short series of photos I had just taken of them by The Louvre, “So I think that counts as me done for the night. Time to find the nearest baaarrrr!”

It didn’t take long to find a bar. It also didn’t take long for us to all have a cocktail glass held in each hand. While the meal was excellent, it was quite a posh place, something none of us were exactly used to. This bar felt much more like our kind of place. It was time to really relax and have fun as nothing more than a group of friends.

In terms of music it was a bit hit and miss as to whether or not we knew the song playing. While that stopped us singing, it never stopped us from dancing. Also, not being familiar with a song was an excellent opportunity to get the next round of drinks in.

“Hurry up! I don’t have a good grip on these! Quick! Take your fucking drinks!” I yelled as I returned from the bar doing my very best to carry five glasses.

“Thanks, EP!” Cal shouted back as he took two glasses from me, passing one on to Michael.

“TO EP FOR ADDING MORE FUN, AND RIGHT NOW DRINKS, TO TOUR AND BEING A STEP CLOSER TO ACHEIVING HER DREAMS!” Ashton called as he raised his glass into the air for a toast.

“TO EP!” The four of them shouted as they clinked their glasses together.

“You guys are too much at times,” I laughed, “But thank you very much none the less.”

With that slightly embarrassing moment of attention out the way we got back to dancing and sipping on our drinks. After a few songs Cal excused himself to the smoking area. Not long after he’d gone Michael went up to the bar as it was his turn to buy the round, leaving just me, Luke and Ash dancing in a little triangle of space. That was until Live In The Moment by Portugal. The Man started playing. 

As soon as we recognised the song Luke gave me a knowing look as I exclaimed ‘As if!’ because only hours ago in that random little coffee shop had we bonded over our mutual current obsession with the song. From that point until the song faded into the next Luke and I were solely focussed on one another as we passionately sang the lyrics at each other and let the beat draw our drunk, dancing bodies closer together in the already small space. 

Without even realising it we became only inches apart, loudly singing into each other’s faces with our drink-free hands moving between air punches, waves and resting on each other (his hand on my waist, mine on his shoulder). And then far too soon the song was over.

“That’s officially made my night,” I declared as I took a step back and downed what remained of my drink, “That was the best coincidence ever.”

“I think that just became our song.” Luke smiled down at me while pushing a few curls back out of his face.

“Are you fucks going to take your drinks now? Because I’m 30 seconds away from drinking them.” Michael somewhat playfully asked, pulling the two of us out of our bubble.

It wasn’t long after taking our drinks from Michael that Mr. Brightside came on and the five of us went mad for it on the dancefloor. And it turned out that, just like a multitude of other clubs I’d been to, Mr Brightside was a subtle signal that closing time was fast approaching. After the two songs that followed, the music stopped and the house lights came on.

“Boooo!” We all declared, clearly not ready for the night to be over just yet.

We collected our jackets from the cloakroom as we were ushered out into the cold Parisian night air with the rest of the crowd. Once out on the street we checked the time for the first time in hours. Realising it was 3:05am and nowhere else was likely to still be open we began our walk back to the tour bus.

It may seem strange to say, but drunk walks home at the end of a night out are one of my favourite things in the world. I get such a feeling of togetherness when I’m laughing and slightly staggering down the street with friends. It always makes me feel like I belong. And semi-lost under the streetlights of Paris I had that feeling of belonging wash its warmth over me. I took two large steps to catch up with Cal and looped my arm through his, 

“I so fucking glad I’m here. Thank you so much for being my best friend. And thank you for having bandmates that are so easy to get along with.” I told Cal as I placed my drunk, sleepy head against his arm as I wasn’t quite tall enough to reach his shoulder.

As Cal and I continued our drunk heart-to-heart we absentmindedly followed the other three in what we hoped was the direction of the tour bus. Seeing as we hadn’t been paying much attention to them and their antics, it was a bit of a surprise to hear Ash shout “Smile!” at us. Thankfully we were quick enough to pose. 

The result was a pretty cool photo of us, arms still linked, pulling tongue-out faces while flipping the camera off. I asked Ash to send it to me, edited it a bit and kept it in my Insta drafts for review and posting in the morning. By the time I’d done this, we’d managed to find our way back to the bus. Once we all piled in we promptly collapsed in our bunks for what remained of the night.

*

The next day was actually quite a relaxed one for me by touring standards.

I was woken up by Michael repeatedly prodding my upper arm. Once I stirred and opened one eye to find him there, he let me know that Ashton had gone and done a coffee run and mine was waiting for me in the kitchen area. Begrudgingly I got up, because I knew the caffeine would do me good, and I also really needed painkillers for my head. As I padded into the bus’ kitchen area in my XXL tee I saw that the guys were looking just as rough as I felt and probably looked too.

“Thanks for the coffee, Ash.” I said as I picked up the cup with my name on, “I don’t suppose there’s any painkillers on this bus?”

“Got some on my coffee run. Here you go.” Ash responded handing me the small rectangular box.

“You lifesaver.” I said taking the box and settling down on the small sofa next to Luke who was barely awake.

As everyone was pretty hungover we didn’t talk much. We just sat in a comfortable silence while we waited for the caffeine to kick in. 

The silence was finally broken by Lou getting onto the bus and letting the four guys know it was soundcheck in 30 minutes. This prompted them to go and change out of their joggers and freshen up a bit. As they did so I dug out my laptop, charger and notebook from my bunk in order to set up a temporary desk at the kitchen booth’s table and get some work done.

After two hours I’d managed to finish, proof read and send off my article on Glasgow to ELLE; as well as flesh out two article ideas for Paris. Pleased with what I had achieved in that time, despite my headache only being dulled slightly by the painkillers, I took a break. 

Predictably, after making some instant mug ramen, I ended up on Instagram; which was when I remembered the photo in my drafts from last night. I clicked onto it and saw drunk me had gone a bit too far when altering the brightness and warmth of the photo. Once I had edited them down and was pleased with how it looked, I tapped out the caption “Two of a kind!” with the emoji of the two dancing girls at the end, tagged Cal and hit ‘Post’. Not quite ready to go back to work, I decided to get dressed and head into the venue to see what the guys were up to.

The guys were just finishing up the meet and greet, so I hopped round to the front of the venue and gave some of the roadies a hand with prepping the t-shirts and hoodies into piles by size at the merch booth. In between pile sorting, Lou appeared to let us know the boys were in Dressing Room 4 doing radio interviews over the phone and to avoid that area of the venue until they were done. Not knowing when exactly that would be, I headed back to the bus once the merch had been sorted and video called Drew.

“Work is so shit without you. Your replacement sucks too.” Drew complained.

“Aww I’m sorry, Drew! Have you heard back from the other firm you applied to?”

“No, not yet. But I should hopefully within the next week. I can’t survive much longer with these people. How’re you surviving on the road?”

“Really well actually! Not to rub it in or anything.” I laughed.

As I was divulging into some of the details and anecdotes I heard someone slapping their hands along the length of the bus as they approached the door.

“Oh. It sounds like I’m going to have to go.” I managed to say before the door opened and Luke stepped onto the bus, “Adios. I’ll call you again soon.”

“Oh shit, sorry, I didn’t realise you were on the phone.” Luke apologised as he caught the tail-end of my conversation, “We’re all just chilling in the main dressing room now, so I said I’d come and find you.”

“Let me grab my camera gear and I’ll be right with you.” I told him while shimmying out of the booth at the front of the bus.

After a few wrong turns backstage, which resulted in a game of Marco Polo between Luke and Michael as a way to guide us the right place, we were back into our comfortable evening routine. They got prepped and hyped up and I documented it with my camera. That evening I took each of them down the hall to a really cool, cobalt blue door I’d spotted for some solo shots. Luke, taking the longest to decide on his stage outfit for the night, was the last of the four I photographed.

“That red silk shirt was such a good choice.” I complemented him as I held my eye up to the viewfinder, “It contrasts this cobalt door so well. And the two together really bring out your eyes.”

“He doesn’t need a bigger head than he’s already got!” Cal called playfully down the corridor.

Luke let out his infectious giggle and I seized the opportunity to grab another photo while chuckling myself. It was a great photo. Such a pure moment captured. I almost didn’t want to share it on their social media, but I knew that was a foolish, and not to mention selfish, thought.

Not long after that the guys were called to the stage. I took my place side of stage and ritualistically fist bumped each of them as they took to the stage for another amazing show. I felt I had already got enough content while in Paris, so I chose to just enjoy the performance instead of worrying about shots and footage. It was the first time I had let myself do so on this tour and I had a blast.

“It looked like you were having a good time tonight.” Cal later remarked when we were all back on the bus and on the road to Brussels. 

“Don’t tell Lou, but I sort of let myself take tonight off shooting to enjoy the gig as I already have so much Paris content.” I confessed as I reclined on the sofa in the lounge at the back of the tour bus.

“Your secret is safe with us.” Cal reassured with a wink, before taking the final swig that remained in his beer bottle, “Right you fucks, I’m off to bed. See you in Brussels.”

Not long after, Mike and Ash made their way to their bunks as well. This left just Luke and I chilling in the back lounge. As he was scrolling through Netflix looking for a film to put on, I asked him, 

“Are you not shattered too?”

“Eh,” He shrugged, “A bit, yeah. But I always have trouble sleeping. Plus after our drunk chat the other night I’d like to hang out with you more, and I seem to only really get the chance at night.”

“I’m not going to argue with that.” I responded while draping a blanket over my shoulders as the opening credits to Groundhog Day began. After a pause I continued, “We can hang out during the day you know. Like take a break and grab lunch or something. Hey, why don’t we do the coffee run together tomorrow? That’ll be an opportunity to hang out.”

“I’d like that,” He smiled, and then tugged a little at the blanket, “Don’t go hogging all the blanket.”

I released my grip on the blanket, allowing Luke to drape it over himself as well. The added warmth of his body next to mine made me feel even cosier and it wasn’t long before I nodded off to sleep.

The tour bus abruptly coming to a stop a few hours later managed to rouse me from my slumber. As my eyes fluttered open, the rest of my body registered that I wasn’t in my bunk, or even laying down, and that the warm thing my head was on smelt very good. Once my eyes were open and no longer fuzzy with sleep I realised that I had fallen asleep during the film, as I was still sat on the lounge’s U-shaped sofa. Luke must have fallen asleep at some point during the film too, as the nice smelling thing my head was resting on was his shoulder, and I could feel his head resting gently on top of mine as he snored softly.

“Wake up. Hey, Luke. Wake up, “I prompted as I gently shook his thigh, “I think we’re in Brussels.”

[kriscme]

One Life to Live

Hi, sorry for the delay if you’re following this story on Tumblr.  The chapters that have been put on AO3 have at last caught up with the chapters here.  New chapters will go up weekly from hence on.   You might find it easier to read on AO3 though.  I’d link if I knew how.  I’m Kris22 over there. 

As always thanks to Ronja for allowing me to write fanfic of her Hunger Games fanfic “The Chance You Didn‘t Take” available on AO3 and FanFiction. Chapter 30 “Marcus presents well on TV, doesn’t he? You wouldn’t guess how much he hates it.”  My hand stills as I focus on the screen and Buttercup nudges his head beneath my palm in protest. I absently go back to scratching him behind the ears and his chest rumbles in contentment. “Yeah, well, you soon learn to fake it,” replies Johanna from the other end of the sofa.  “You should know that better than anyone.”   “Yeah,” I say.  Fake or not fake, real or not real, on television who can tell the difference? “That’s where Gale and I used to meet to go hunting,” I tell her.  Cressida had Marcus stand with his back to the valley, using the mountains in the distance as backdrop.  The sun was directly behind him and it shone through his golden-brown hair and set it aflame as if it were a halo.  Man-on-fire, I can almost hear Cinna say.  He’s the darling of the media now.  I don’t envy him.   I nervously wait for the moment Cressida interrupted the interview to ask me how I feel about a national park but it’s like it didn’t happen.  It’s been edited so seamlessly that no one would guess there’d been a break in the dialogue between Marcus and herself.  True to her word, there’s not even the slightest glimpse or mention of me anywhere. And nothing either in the separate feature she did on District 12 that had aired immediately before.  

I let out my breath in a long exhale and feel the tension ebb from my muscles.  I imagine Marcus in District 13 having the same reaction.   We felt sure that if there were any compromising footage it would come out either before the interview was broadcast or during.   And apart from that . . . um . . . incident in the woods, what else could they have on us?  Only that Marcus was a guest in my house but that was a very reasonable arrangement given the circumstances.  Otherwise, it was all very circumspect.  No public displays of affection, no chaining naked to trees, no fights with logging companies.   Only Johanna knew the extent of our relationship, and I doubt she’d have told anyone.  Peeta’s engagement to Lace would have made a juicy story, but thankfully he’s protected, having done nothing to attract publicity to himself – either through his own actions or through association with another.   “Looks like you’ve dodged a bullet,” says Johanna.  She reaches for the remote to switch off the television and then settles back onto the sofa.  A plate of Peeta-made cookies is on the coffee table delicately iced in Peeta’s signature style.  She takes one and scrapes off the icing with her teeth.   Johanna likes the icing best.  If you let her, you’d end up with a plate of cookies that look as if mice had been at them.   “It would seem so,” I reply.   I wish I could feel more certain, but if I’ve learned anything from my experiences is that life seldom is.  In fact, feeling safe almost guarantees that you’re not.   I forget to stroke Buttercup again, and tired of my erratic attention, he decides it’s time to move on.   He drops to the floor and ambles over to his favorite lounge chair, tail swishing. He leaves behind a layer of cat hair on my dark green trousers. “I told you nothing would happen,” says Johanna. “Wouldn’t want to ruin the fantasy they’d put so much effort into perpetuating, would they?  I stand naked against a tree for a good cause and the media goes berserk.  You get caught shagging against a tree with the current golden boy and then nothing.” “You know that’s not true,” I say, exasperated that she still thinks like this.  “Maybe at one time, when it would have made the Capitol look stupid if the truth came out, but not now.  They’ve had no compunction giving Marcus bad publicity in the past so I can’t see why it would be different just because I’m involved.  We were mistaken about what we heard that’s all, and then we let paranoia take over.”

I’d agonized over whether I should tell Marcus about Remus and the knowing look he gave me when I returned to camp.  In the end, I decided that he should have all the information just in case he needed to be prepared.  That was a mistake.   Between Cressida’s return to the Capitol the following day and Marcus’s for District 13 a week later, our waking hours were spent alternating between optimism that we had nothing to worry about and then dread that we had everything to worry about.   Marcus was petrified that another scandal would put his mission in jeopardy.  As there’s no official mandate from the central government to establish national parks, he depends on the goodwill and co-operation of individual districts and a negative association with me – any association with me, actually – could have that support withdrawn.  Especially in 13 where my name is anathema.  For me, it was the terror of a media onslaught, that what had happened before could happen again – my private life no longer private but entertainment to be analyzed and exploited.  That the careful re-building of my life as plain Katniss Everdeen would all come to naught. That it might impact on Peeta, who’s only just now finding himself after what Snow did to him. We had our first ever real argument.  I told him it was his fault for breaking his own rule and luring me into a clandestine meeting with him for sex.   And he said it was my fault for . . . he couldn’t quite articulate why it was my fault but it had something to do with being Katniss Everdeen.  It seems if I’d been a nobody we could have fucked in the main street (his words) and while it would likely have had us arrested in 12 it wouldn’t have merited even the smallest mention in the Capitol.  Because, you know, we’re just ignorant hayseeds and they are so much more sophisticated than we are and they have no morals (my words).  Oh, and he wasn’t exactly a nobody either.  In fact, that was the problem.   We did calm down and apologize to each other and had make-up sex, which was nice, but it wasn’t how I imagined we’d be spending our final days together – tense, fearful, with each blaming the other for our predicament.   It wasn’t until the night before he departed for 13 that we came to a mutual understanding. Neither of us were at fault.  We were victims of our celebrity – a celebrity that neither of us had sought.  Mine was thrust upon me, and his was a regrettable consequence of his life’s work. But I did tell him he was partly to blame.  If he had been fifty, pot-bellied and bald instead of young, handsome and with eyes the color of maple-syrup that could melt any women’s heart, he wouldn’t attract a fraction of the media attention that he does.  And then he told me that if I had been a scraggy, wrinkled old bat instead of young and nubile with eyes like silver moons and hair evocative of midnight, all the Games prowess in the world couldn’t have made me the cultural icon I’d become.  We were just too good looking for own good.   And then we laughed and had sex – playful, affectionate, I-want-to-remember-this-forever sex.  

But the worry was still there when we lay in each other’s arms that night, and the next morning when we said our goodbyes.  It was a bitter-sweet ending to what had been an unforgettable interlude but as I watched him pass through the Village gates for the last time, rucksack piled high, long legs in hiking boots striding purposely towards the next wilderness to be saved, I was struck by the rightness of it.  It was how it was always going to end; how it always should have ended.   Johanna tosses a denuded cookie back onto the plate and picks up a fresh one.  She ignores the pained look I send her way.  “Would you have gone with him?” she asks.  “If you could?” I brush cat hairs from my trousers to give me a few seconds to think about it.   I’d honestly never considered it since I can’t leave 12.    But there was a time when I could have happily left everything behind and followed him around the country, hiking mountain trails and making love at every opportunity.   It was at the concrete house by the lake, the morning after we’d made love for the first time and there weren’t enough superlatives in the world to describe how wonderful I thought he was, although now I find it hard to determine exactly what I did feel for him.  

“No,” I say eventually.  “Even if didn’t mean being in the public eye again, I still wouldn’t.  We don’t want the same things.”  I hesitate, wondering if I should say anything, but then blurt it out. “I don’t think I’m normal.” I brace for the sarcastic response I’m sure to get, but to my relief it doesn’t come.  “None of us are,” she says grimly.  “You don’t go through what we have and come out normal at the end of it.”  She’s silent for a moment, but then rouses herself. “But if you want me to comment further, you’ll have to be more specific,” she adds.   I sigh.  I don’t know to explain it to myself, let alone to someone else.  “Well, it’s about how I felt about Marcus.   I mean, it wasn’t that long ago when I would have done almost anything for him.  He made me feel so . . . so . . . “ “Turned on?” she smirks.   I feel my face grow hot.  I should have known the real Johanna couldn’t be too far from the surface.   “Yes, but more than that.  Wanted.  Desirable. And we had so much in common too. But when he left, I didn’t feel much of anything.  I should have been devastated, shouldn’t I?” “Rebound.”

“What?” “It was a rebound.  It’s when you haven’t got over one relationship and you dive straight into another.  Marcus gave you the validation that Peeta didn’t.  It’s not so complicated.  Pretty simple, in fact.  Happens all the time.” “It does?” “Yep.  It goes like this.  You feel like shit because you’re still hung-up on your ex so you’re looking for a distraction – something or someone to make you feel better.  So along comes Marcus who is clearly attracted and you transfer the feelings you don’t think Peeta wants on to him.  Only it doesn’t last because it’s not based on anything real.” But some things were real.   I really did like him, felt a connection with him, even.  And I liked the sex, but maybe that’s just a physical thing.  I haven’t been with enough men to know if it’s different when it’s with someone you truly love.    “A rebound is bad then?” I ask. “Depends,” she says.  She takes another cookie from the plate.   “Has it made you feel better or worse?  And then there’s the person on the other end of it.  It’s generally considered not fair to them.  But, if you had to pick the ideal man to have a rebound with, you couldn’t have done better than Marcus.  I told you at the beginning– one track mind.  Nothing competes with saving the forests for him.” Gale.  He was like that.  The cause is more important than any relationship.  As soon as Gale heard about the uprisings in the Districts, he no longer wanted to escape with me into the woods when just minutes before, he’d been so keen.  But Peeta, he would have gone with me, even though he knew it was a bad idea.   “He told me he doesn’t keep girlfriends for very long.  I guess that’s why,” I say.   He’d also have figured out what a liability I’d be to him.  And I certainly wouldn’t want the kind of life a relationship with him would entail.    That final week had been an eyeopener for us both.  But at least it ended well, all things considered. I put out my hand for a cookie but change my mind when I can’t find one that hasn’t had the icing scraped off.  

“You’re disgusting,” I tell her.  But I can’t keep from laughing.  It’s part amusement, part relief.  No repercussions from that lapse of judgement in the woods and an explanation that makes sense to me about my feelings for Marcus.  I feel a sudden rush of affection for the woman who’s helped me through this – and more besides.  Once I compared her to an older sister who really hates you.   I guess I have to revise it to an older sister who sometimes seems to hate you but really doesn’t, and you can always depend on to have your back.   “I’m going to miss you,” I say. “Yeah, I know,” Johanna replies casually as if she were picking lint off a sweater.  “But my reason for coming here in the first place was to help Marcus out and he’s gone.   Peeta doesn’t need me anymore either.  So even if I hadn’t been asked to, it still would have been time for me to go home.”   “You’re going to be great mayor.” “Thanks, but I’m not mayor quite yet.   I have to be elected first.  It’s the way it’s done now.”  Before the war, District mayors were appointed by the Capitol but now all governing roles are decided by vote.  It’s the republic Plutarch had talked about, just like in the history books. The people elect their own representatives.   “You’ll get it,” I say confidently.  “They love you in 7.  They wouldn’t have asked you to run, otherwise.”  Who’d have guessed that Johanna would be destined to be Mayor of District 7, but when you think about it, it’s the perfect fit.  She’ll bring passion, commitment and integrity to the role.  And essential for a career in politics, a thick skin.   “So, have you thought about what you’d like to do on your last night here and to celebrate your candidacy?” I ask. “How about drinks first at the pub and then dinner at that restaurant you like or maybe see a movie.  Or we could do all three.  Anything you like. “ “Anything I like?” she asks ominously. Images of pub crawls, strippers and naked sprints through the streets flash through my mind.  “What I’d like is dinner with just the four of us. You, me, Peeta and Haymitch.” I groan.  This is far, far worse.  “You more than anyone know the circumstances – “ “I don’t care,” she says flatly.  “Ever since I got here, I’ve been stuck between the two of you.   Haymitch has too.  Why don’t you think of other people for a change and how it affects them?  You and Peeta are Haymitch’s family!  What do you think it’s been like for him?” “He hasn’t said anything,” I say, on the defensive.  “How can I know if – “

“It should be fucking obvious!  How brainless can you get?”  She gives me a look filled with contempt.  I guess she’s back to being the older sister who hates you.   I hadn’t considered it from Haymitch’s perspective.  He’d have missed the dinners, I suppose, but it’s not as if they could continue forever. They were only intended to help us establish a routine.  And besides, it was Peeta who showed the first signs of breaking from them.   “It’s not like I started it.”  As I say it, I realize how false that is.  I was the one who put a complete stop to the dinners and made things awkward between Peeta and me.  All because I couldn’t handle him being with Lace.   “I don’t care who started it,” she says, but less angrily than before.  “It’s time for it to stop.  Is this how you’re going to live the rest of your lives?  Forever trying to avoid being in the same place at the same time?  You’re neighbors, for fuck’s sake.  You’ve been in two Games and a war together.  You don’t throw away a bond like that because he fucked another woman when his brain was mush.  And now that you’ve fucked another man, you’re even.  There’s nothing standing in your way now.  So, what’s stopping you?  It can’t be Lace.  She’s gone.” Gone, but not forgotten.  Not by me, and not by Peeta either.  But Johanna does have a point.  If Haymitch is a kind of father figure to us both, then that makes us his children.  And having two children who don’t get along and won’t join in any family activities if the other is there too, can’t have been easy.  For my own part, it has been a strain avoiding Peeta when we live so close, work similar hours, and have Haymitch in common.  But it hasn’t been just me.  Peeta stopped seeking me out like he used to when he found out that I’m in love him.  Nothing about our situation has changed, Lace or no Lace.   He stays away from me because he knows that I’m in love him and he feels bad that he can’t love me back.  And I stay away from him because I know that he knows, and feel humiliated that he does.  But if . . . “You’re right,” I say.   “It is ridiculous.  You make the arrangements and I’ll be there.” “And now that Marcus is out of the picture – “        

She stops suddenly, confused.  “You will?” “Yes.  In fact, I can hardly wait.  It’ll be fun.”  I rise from the sofa to gather the cups and the plate of ruined cookies to signal that the visit is over.   Johanna looks stunned as if she can’t believe how easy that victory was.   She was probably all primed to go into battle and then it failed to materialize.  How disappointing that must be.    

“Oh, Johanna!” I call out cheerily just as she’s about to walk out the door.  I’ve just remembered something Haymitch told me.  “Maybe we should let Peeta do the cooking.   He likes to do it.  He’d always take over when we had our dinners.”  If I have to do this thing, I at least want the food to be good.   “Sure,” she says, still dazed.   And then she’s gone.  I wonder if Peeta has already agreed to it, or that she still has the job of guilting him into it too.   I decide that it doesn’t matter either way.  Peeta will be motivated by the same reasoning as me.  The present situation can’t continue.   It’s funny, in the way that’s weird rather than amusing, that mine and Peeta’s situation is now reversed.  In the days following the Games and before we embarked on the Victory Tour, he avoided me for pretty much the same reasons I avoid him now.  And, in turn, I avoided him for the same reason he avoids me.  It’s the discomfort of being around someone whose feelings you don’t return.   But there’s one crucial difference. Peeta had hope.  I know that now from what Haymitch told Peeta before the prep teams arrived.  He could afford to wear his heart on his sleeve knowing that there was a good chance that if I was given the space I needed, it was only a matter of time before I felt the same way.  I have no hope.  Therefore, my strategy will have to be different.  This is about survival, not about capturing Peeta’s heart.  

Peeta will have to believe that whatever I felt for him, I no longer do.  That’s the only way we can be at ease with each other.   I may never stop loving him, but I know how to bury my feelings so that they don’t show.  I’ve had plenty of practice at it.  After my father died.  When I was reaped.  When he started going out with Lace.   I can do this.  I can put on a show.  I don’t even have to be good at it.  In the Games, Peeta was convinced I was in love him because he wanted to believe it.  So now I do the opposite and he’ll believe because he wants to believe.  And if he can’t do that, he’ll pretend.  We’re both very good at pretending.   Chapter 31 Venia purses her lips at the state of my nails. “There’s not much I can do with these apart from a polish.  If you want artificial nails, you’ll have to come back when Octavia’s here.” “It doesn’t matter,” I say.  “I mostly just wanted my hair trimmed.”  The shape Flavius had cut into my hair has nearly all grown out.   Working at the school during the week, and out in the woods with Marcus on the weekends hadn’t left much time for trips to the beauty salon.   I ask, “Where’s Octavia?  Not sick, I hope.”  

It’s unusual not to see Octavia at her station, her auburn head bent over her task.  Since Venia re-united with her coworkers, each has settled into their former specialties as beauty therapists.   Flavius is hair and makeup.   Octavia is the nail expert.  And Venia is skin treatments and waxing.   “She left work early,” smirks Flavius.  “She has a date.”   Venia collects a few tools from the nail station and returns to my side.  While Flavius cuts, Venia smooths and buffs.  It reminds me of my days as a tribute when all three of them would be working on various body parts at the same time. “We weren’t busy, anyway,” says Venia. “You’re the last customer for the day.” I know.  That’s the reason I chose to come at this time.  I didn’t want to take the chance of running into Lace when she’s having her roots done.   “Anyone I know?” I ask. “Possibly,” replies Venia.  “He’s from 12.  Thom something.  Bick? Hick?” “Hickory?” “That’s it.  Hickory.  Octavia’s had crushes before but she’s got it really bad this time.  I caught her looking through wedding catalogues.”  Venia pauses mid-buff.  “I’m worried for her.” “How come?” Thom is a nice guy.  He was a friend of Gale’s who helped with the clean-up of 12 and gave me a ride home in his cart when I was too weak to walk home. That was the day Peeta came back. “Because of . . . you know, of what we did before the war.”  I don’t miss Venia’s use of “we”.  If Octavia is accused of being a facilitator of the Games, they all are.

“But doesn’t Thom already know?  He was in 13 at the same time as you.”  All the survivors from District 12 actually.   But Venia shakes her head.  “Octavia didn’t know Thom then.  We didn’t mix very much with the people there.  We thought it safer to keep to ourselves. Especially after the bread.”   I suppose being shackled to a wall and beaten for simply taking an extra portion of bread wouldn’t exactly endear the populace to you.  

I try to reassure them.  “You do know that I’d vouch for you if it ever came out?  And tell them how you helped prepare me for the rebellion propos and Snow’s execution?” “I know you would.  And maybe we’re worrying over nothing.  But we risked a lot coming here and 12’s our home now. Flavius has met someone too – he’s from the Capitol, so that’s not a concern but if we had to leave . . .   And Lucia is settled in school and has made friends and Cicero has a good job at the medicine factory . . .” And so Venia goes on.  Flavius chimes in too.  He tells me they’re set to take on two apprentices and once the tailor has moved out, they want to expand the salon –

“What?  Arthur’s leaving?”  This is the first I’ve heard of it.  But maybe that’s not so surprising.  I haven’t seen much of Arthur lately.   It’s been only been Max, Johanna and me at pub nights.  Arthur is obviously spending his Saturday nights elsewhere.   “Oh, he’s not going far,” says Venia. “Just to another store on the main street.  He says it’s better situated for passing trade and with the dressmaking shop next door it will likely bring more business to them both.” “I don’t think more business is the only thing those two want from each other,” says Flavius with a suggestive wink.   “Flavius!” chides Venia, but she can’t conceal a smile.  “It’s true, though.  We misplaced the stone we use for sharpening scissors and Octavia went to ask Arthur if we could borrow his.  But no one was there even though the door was open.  So, she went through to the back, thinking that’s where he’d be, and she caught them red-handed, kissing, and his hand was up her skirt.  Octavia forgot all about the stone.”   The two of them collapse into giggles.  “We didn’t think he had it in him,” says Venia, when she’s able to speak.   Neither did I.  I can’t laugh about it though.  Peeta will be devastated when he hears that Lace has moved on.   And so soon after their break-up too.   But as badly as I feel for Peeta, I also can’t help feeling happy for Arthur.  If there was ever a man who deserves reward for long devotion, it’s him.  I only hope that Lace proves worthy of it. One thing I do know is that Peeta isn’t going to hear of it from me.  I’m done being involved in his love life.  It’s brought me nothing but trouble ever since he made that confession to Caesar Flickerman years before.  My only objective is to get over him if I can and make sure that he thinks I have. And that makes this dinner tonight so important.  It will set the stage for our relationship going forward.   We’ll be friends.  Not necessarily close friends.  But at least friends who can enjoy social occasions together and feel comfortable in each other’s company.   Johanna wants us to dress up so I guess that means I’ll have to wear a cocktail dress.   I have one already in my closet.  It’s the emerald green dress I wore to the party in 8.  But it’s long sleeved and in a heavy fabric and that makes it too hot for this time of the year.  I’ll have to go down to the basement where most of the Cinna clothes are stored.  There’s a whole rack of cocktail dresses to choose from. But what do you wear when you want to show that you’ve made an effort, but don’t want to appear as if you’ve set out attract anyone in particular – and by anyone, I mean Peeta.  

I begin by eliminating colours that are evocative of sunsets or flames.  That takes care of anything orange, red or yellow.  And then anything that Lace might choose.  If Lace is Peeta’s idea of feminine allure then I should make sure to do the opposite.  Therefore, no pastels, ruffles and especially any kind of lace.  No.  No. No, I think as I reject one dress after another.  And then I find it.  The perfect dress.  And so different from the girlish or jeweled frocks that Cinna usually dressed me in that it’s almost as if he knew that one day, I might have a need for a dress such as this.  It’s in unrelieved black.   Simple and unadorned in slinky silk jersey.   I really like it, but Peeta, who loves colour, probably won’t and it’s sure to send a message that I didn’t dress to please him.   I accessorize it with black high-heeled sandals and silver and jet earrings.  The dress comes to just above the knee with a deep halter neck.  It’s impossible to wear a bra without it showing, so I leave it off.  I turn around to check how it looks in the mirror from the rear.  The clinging fabric does set off my best asset, but since it’s a dinner and I’ll be sitting on it, no one will see it.  The burn scars, although much improved from the skin treatments, are still noticeable on my back.  I decide to draw attention to it by putting my hair up in a kind of messy bun.  This will contrast with Lace’s unblemished skin and immaculate hair and will surely show Peeta that I don’t care at all about being attractive to him.   I arrive at Peeta’s door at the same time as Haymitch.  He’s wearing a dinner suit, but his white shirt has already untucked from the waistband and his tie isn’t around his neck but dangling from his breast pocket.  His eyebrows rise as he takes in my appearance and his lips curve in a sardonic smile.  If I needed any confirmation of how incongruous I look in this get-up, I just got it.   Johanna answers the door, elegant in a wine-red fitted dress with matching shoes.  She appears to have paid a visit to the salon too, because her hair is now a uniform color and has been restyled to lie flat against her skull and frame her face instead of the usual red-tipped spikes sticking up all over her head.   “I like your new look,” I tell her.   “Yeah, it’s more conservative than I usually go for but I figure I have to start looking the part of mayor sooner or later.  But what about you?  What have you done with Katniss Everdeen?” I smile and shrug.  I’m unsure if not looking like myself is a compliment or not. Peeta stops short when he sees me, his mouth gaping, but he collects himself quickly.  “You look beautiful,” he says.  

“Thanks,” I murmur.  He sounds sincere but I know how easily Peeta can fake it.  “You look good too.”  And he does, in a cream suit designed by Portia.   We move into the dining room.  Johanna’s gone to a lot of trouble.  I can almost imagine we’re at one of those fancy restaurants in the Capitol.  Fresh flowers, dim lighting, the furniture polished to a high sheen. The table is resplendently laid out with the finest dinnerware and gold cutlery.  These came with the house.  I have them too but I’ve yet to use them.   I wonder if Peeta recognizes the pattern on the plates as the same as those that accompanied our feast in the cave.  Johanna and Haymitch take seats at opposite ends of the table. That leaves Peeta and me to sit across from each other.  

White wine is poured into cut-crystal glasses and starched linen napkins are laid across laps.  I wait for either Johanna or Peeta to start bringing in the food but they stay seated.  How are we to eat if the food never leaves the kitchen?  I eye the woven gold basket filled with soft rolls in the center of the table.  Is that all we get?  Just then, Cass enters the room carrying a large silver tray.   “Good evening,” he says, as places a bowl of soup in front of each of us.  “I hope you brought your appetites with you.  Don’t forget to save room for dessert.”   And then he’s gone.  Presumably back to the kitchen. “What was that?” I say to no one in particular. “Cass is doing all the cooking tonight. He’s a qualified chef.  He can cook all sorts of things - not just pastries and desserts,” says Johanna. “Yes, I know that.  But what’s he doing here?” Peeta answers.  “Johanna thought it would be nice to have a professional do the cooking so we could relax and enjoy ourselves.” Right.  I just wish Johanna’s idea of relaxation was drinks at the pub, or a barbeque in the backyard.  Any place where I didn’t risk locking eyes with Peeta at any minute.  We can scarcely look at each other. Every time his eyes chance to meet mine, they flit away.  It’s like being back at school.  We’re doing a very poor job of acting at ease with each other so far. I’m a lousy actress at the best of times but I expected better of Peeta. Clearly the knowledge that I’m in love with him freaks him out to the extent that he’s forgotten all his acting skills. The food is a welcome diversion and I tuck in. The soup is creamy pumpkin sprinkled with slivered nuts and little black seeds.  Sublime.  I recognize it as one of the soups at the Capitol feast.  It’s followed by those delicious little roasted birds filled with orange sauce. Then fish swimming in a green sauce flecked with herbs.  And then, oh, I don’t believe it!   Lamb stew with dried plums!  On a bed of wild rice!

That makes me think of our feast in the cave, of course. It’s even served on the same patterned plates.  My eyes instinctively search out Peeta’s.  Do you remember it?  You must, surely.  How excited we were when that parachute arrived.  How careful we were to eat only small portions so we wouldn’t be sick after so many days of hunger.  And then how we whiled away the time until we could eat again – snuggled together in the sleeping bag, my head on your shoulder, your arms wrapped around me, imagining our life together if we survived the Games.  You, me and Haymitch, you said.  Picnics, birthdays, long winter nights around the fire retelling old Hunger Games tales.  You must remember it!

But Peeta doesn’t look my way.  His gaze flickers between Johanna and Haymitch without it ever landing on me even though we’re sitting directly across from each other.  And he laughs just a little too loudly at Johanna’s poor taste joke about prunes and how we’ll all shit well tomorrow.    He remembers our feast in the cave, all right!  I’m certain of it.  He just doesn’t want me to know that he does. To spare me the humiliation, probably.  I want to kick myself.  Gawping at him like a love-sick idiot – practically begging him to remember one of our most intimate moments together.  At least Peeta has his wits about him, not letting on that the stew holds any particular significance.  

I quietly return to my stew.  It’s not as good as I remember it and I can only manage a few mouthfuls.  Saving room for dessert, I tell Johanna, when she comments.  Unfortunately, there’s a long break between this course and the next.   I suppose Cass wants our stomachs to have a rest before he brings out the dessert which is sure to be spectacular.  But it makes the pressure to appear congenial and unaffected by Peeta’s presence that much harder when I don’t have the food to distract me.

Since I got here, Peeta hadn’t spoken a great deal, and me even less.  The conversation has been carried mostly by Johanna and Haymitch.  She’s been picking his brain about the challenges of town planning and the provision of services such as garbage collection and road maintenance.  Johanna had better get this job for mayor.  She already acts as if it’s hers. That’s why it’s a surprise when the focus of attention turns to me.  I’d been occupied twisting my crystal glass around by the stem watching the colours change across its facets.  Anything to keep my mind off the person sitting opposite me.     “You’ll step in, won’t you, Katniss?” Johanna asks.   My head jerks up.   “Hmm?  What – “ “She doesn’t have to,” says Peeta quickly. “Step in for what?” I ask, directing my question to Johanna.   “To watch the tapes with Peeta.” says Johanna. Before I can respond Peeta interjects again. “There’s no need to bother Katniss.  I’ll be fine with Haymitch.”     “You won’t,” says Haymitch.  “The tapes labeled ‘to be watched with Katniss’ are all that’s left.  It’s probably why the content has become repetitive lately.   Aurelius has obviously run out of material I can help you with.” “You need to watch all the tapes,” Johanna adds.  “You don’t know what memories are missing until you do.” “Katniss has already done her share.  I’ll be fine watching on my own,” says Peeta.   Johanna shakes her head.  “You know that’s not how it works.  You need someone to put it into context.  Besides, the tapes were her idea to begin with. She should see it through.”   Peeta turns to me for the first time.   “There’s really no need.”   He’s almost pleading with me. I really want to accept his offer to not watch the tapes with him.  I know he’s giving me an escape but if I go along with it, it gives the impression that I’m afraid and that’s not good either.  It has to appear as if I have nothing to hide.  Which I don’t.  Except the part that I’m still in love with him, of course.   I can see where he’s coming from.  After my slip-up with the stew, he’s worried that if I’m compelled to watch the tapes with him, I’m sure to give myself away.  He’s protecting me from myself.   I look coolly into the blue eyes of the person who is now my greatest opponent and I promise myself I will defeat his plan. Johanna is right.  I should finish what I started.  Remember that my primary objective was for Peeta to find himself. And if those tapes hold the final pieces, then I’m determined that he shall have them.  I will watch those tapes, no matter how bad they are, and he will never guess from my reaction that I still carry a torch for him.  It’s the only way we’ll ever be able to act normally around each other.   “I’m happy to help,” I say.  “Same time and place?” All eyes are on him.  He’s trapped and he knows it.   Peeta’s nod is almost imperceptible.   What a timely moment for Cass to bring out the dessert.  It’s a tower of pastries filled with different flavored custards, welded together with chocolate and studded with raspberries and sugared violets surrounded by an immense web of delicate spun sugar.  There’s enough for at least a dozen or more people.  But the best thing about it is that its position in the center of the table effectively blocks out my view of Peeta.   So, Dr Aurelius has sent tapes that he wants Peeta to specifically watch with me.  I wonder if I was ever going to be told about them.   Probably not if it had been left up to Peeta.  He’s obviously anxious about what’s on them.   That makes me think that he has most, if not all, of his memories back.  Enough, at least, to guess at how I feel about him.  It seems that the tapes have progressed from those which showed me either indifferent or acting a part to when I began to return his feelings.  And the irony is that it’s made not a scrap of difference. I’m glad now that Dr Aurelius sent the compromising tapes first.  I had never stood a chance with him, even without Lace.  

Cass comes out to clear away the dessert plates and the remains of that pastry thing.  He frowns at how little impact we made on it.  But it really was huge.  To make him feel better, I ask if he can wrap it up for me to share around the staff room tomorrow.  Max will probably make some joke about chocolate covered balls and phallic symbols. We finish with tea for Peeta and me and coffee for Johanna and Haymitch.  Haymitch takes from his pocket a silver flask and pours a generous slug of whatever’s in it into his cup.  

The dinner finally comes to an end.  I pull Johanna aside before I go, ostensibly to say goodbye to her.  I won’t see her tomorrow.  The train for 7 leaves very early and Peeta has offered to walk her to the train station.

“The whole night was a setup, wasn’t it? To get me to watch the tapes with Peeta again?”

She doesn’t bother denying it. “Yep.  Someone had to give the two of you a nudge in the right direction.” She gives me one of her stern big sister looks.  “Don’t waste it.”

“I won’t,” I say.   She doesn’t have to know that I have something completely different in mind to her.    

I hug her goodbye and wish her luck.  I don’t know when we’ll meet again.  Not with me stuck in 12 and Johanna busy being mayor but maybe she’ll find time in her schedule to visit at some point.  

“Don’t be a stranger,” she calls out as I leave.  Where have I heard that expression before?  Ah yes, Plutarch.  They were the last words he spoke to me before he left the hovercraft that brought me back to 12.   Thankfully, even after that scare with Marcus, that’s exactly how it’s stayed.  

“Never,” I call back.   No one could ever be the little sister that Prim was.  But maybe I’ve gained a pretty good substitute for an older one.  

[woohooligancomics]

Artist Spotlight: John Wilker, donut novelist to the stars

Welcome to the Laugh It Forward Kickstarter Artist Spotlight! Every day you'll meet new cool artists doing amazing things, so check them out!

Today I'd like to introduce you to John Wilker!

John Wilker is the author of science fiction novel series Space Rogues. The second book in the series is scheduled for release in early Spring. He took the plunge into self-publishing after years of writing lead to winning NaNoWriMo in 2016 (for my English-speaking readers, that's National Novel Writing Month).

While he's not yet cast of the shackles of corporate life, he works a second job running a conference and events company (which to be fair, he thoroughly enjoys). In a previous job he has the distinction of operating a mailing list which served the practical function of announcing donuts, but for which most subscribers came instead for a short story about the donuts. Sadly, donut story emails are lost to antiquity.

Sam: I used to make the mistake most artists make when asked about my work, and get into the details like characters, plot and story elements. Those are important in telling stories, but I learned they don't really draw people in. So I'm going to ask you to tell us a short story about the more important question:

why do you create your art?

John: I've always been drawn to sci-fi. Spaceships, robots, other worlds, are all so exciting to think about, especially when life on earth is currently less exciting (that's the polite way of putting it). I've always been an optimistic dreamer, looking at the night sky and thinking about the worlds that are orbiting each star I can see.

Sam: I don't know... there are a lot of problems right now, certainly but I think it's still exciting. It's just not exciting the way you generally want your excitement. Like, spear-catching is probably quite exciting! :P

My second question is who or what has most inspired your work? If I compared you to someone, what names would you be most flattered to hear?

John: For a long time, I wasn't a reader. I read for book reports, etc. but never for pleasure. My parents even had to bribe me with GI Joes to read a book and write a report.

That changed in high school when a friend loaned me a copy of "The Elfstones of Shannara." That book changed the course of my life. I read it over the course of a weekend. I rushed out and bought my own copy that I still own 20 odd years later and have re-read many times. Terry Brooks showed me how amazing a world other than our own could be.

Jumping ahead a bit, I LOVED the Wild Card series, because it was such a clever mix of the spaceships, robots, etc. thing, with more realistic settings. Just stoked my imagination like no one's business. I think that's what got me interested in writing, seeing that the stories didn't have to be so fantastical and over the top. Just a good story with characters people like.

Sam: Wait... didn't G.I. Joe tell you reading was half the battle? You didn't take advice from Joe?!

I think I'm thinking of a different Wild Cards -- an anthology series of superhero novels edited by George R.R. Martin. You know, before he was a hack.

But you did remind me of the first novel I managed to finish... not my favorite by a long shot, but I still remember, Ties of Blood and Silver, a sci-fi by Joel Rosenberg. I never did get around to reading Guardians of the Flame or the Prisoner of Zenda. I think I wanted to read, but when I was young it was really difficult for me -- it took me a while to train my eyes to do it with any competence, so I read slowly. Thankfully my reading speed is a lot better now in my early 40s. ;)

Last question. What have you learned from your work, and what's your advice for younger creators?

John: That it's a business. I knew it was to a degree, but it is mostly business, with creating mixed in. I'd love to spend every free minute I have writing (and I try to), but there's so much that goes into it, that isn't writing; at least if you want actually to make any money at all. I've met a few writers who write, to write. They don't sell, but they seem happy. As much as I love writing, I want people to enjoy my labors, so I spend a lot of time trying to let people know I've made a thing.

That said though; it's worth it. Seeing someone write a review, or reply to a newsletter email and comment on how much they enjoyed the writing, makes my day every time.

Sam: Yeah, marketing is definitely something that most of us artists struggle to learn... and I don't think we're alone in that at all, I think it's a challenging thing to learn in general. Part of that is because most marketing books or blogs are so horrible, you have to wade through a lot of useless crap to find the advice that's useful. But that's also part of why I'm publishing these artist spotlights, because I want to help people with that.

And you're right, it is very worthwhile when you get your message out and people enjoy it or are helped by it. :D

Any final thoughts?

John: Support creators. Buy their stuff, support them on Patreon, whatever you can afford to do. We need more makers in the world, especially now.

Sam: Thanks for taking the time for this interview, John, it's been a pleasure.

To see more of John's awesome work, check out his website. You can also find him on Facebook, Twitter, and most importantly, if you enjoy his work, share this interview, and sign-up for his email newsletter!

p.s. If you are also an artist and are planning a Kickstarter, you might find my Six Tips to Kickstarter Success helpful, plus links to other helpful resources. Also thanks to Andrea Demonakos who's handling the bulk of our rewards fulfillment to help our Laugh It Forward project go smoothly!

[shazyloren]

The Dragon Club: Chapter 2 - Awards and Violins

Summary:  Jon Snow is an online blogger who gets an interview with the sort after Daenerys Targaryen, the Editor of Valyrian, a multi-million dollar fashion magazine. He'd heard so much about the silver-haired and silver-tongued woman and he running of her business; he would have to be smart to get anything more than five minutes. Will he be safe walking into the Dragon's lair or will he get thrown to the Lions?

Note: Enjoy Chapter two!

Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/12018519/chapters/27201402

------

She had her back turned to him; she glancing out of the big bay window as the city buzzed with life below. She seemed in a sort of trance, not even turning her head when he stepped through the door. The office was not large, but it had the same surgical cleanliness that Jon had disliked in the rest of the building. There was a clean white desk which held her computer and a phone; her mobile to the side of it.

There was a violin on a stand in the corner; A Primevera 200 by the looks of it, Brandon had thought about getting it for Jon one Christmas but had ended up getting the Stentor Conservatoire instead. In the opposite corner there was an old record player in a stand with at least 100 vinyls. The room felt the most homey part of the whole building, but there was no coats hung up or mugs of coffee anywhere; no bookshelves with the classics on them. Jon preferred his own office.

All of this went through his head withing a few seconds; and as he turned his gaze back to the woman in front of the window, he could see her reflection in the mirror. A look of tranquillity graced her features. The infamous purple eyes; the puffy yet chiselled cheeks and her full lips. Her infamous silver-blonde locks were in braids and travelled all the way down her arch of her back. She was short, shorter than Jon expected and suddenly as he processed her appearance in his mind, his eyes fell to her garb. An all black pantsuit with a black flowers embroidery with gemstones all over it; a very peculiar thing that on anyone else Jon may have found himself laughing at, but on her it looked good. All previous nerves from sitting outside the office went. She was just a person at the end of the day; and Jon was ready to grill her for his website.

The women who entered with Jon spoke once more, bringing the Editor out of her trance. "Madam, the writer from The Wolf Online is here to speak with you"

"Thank you, Missandei" Daenerys spoke still gazing out the window. Missandei bowed her head in a low nod and exited the room. Instantly Daenerys stood a few inches taller and turned to me Jon's eyes. Jon thought he saw fire in hers, actual purple flames as the lights in the room made her pupils glisten. Jon thought he saw surprise in her face; he didn't know why he would've seen that particular expression on her face or why she would be surprised in his appearance but he still saw it nonetheless.. Jon cleared his mind instantly; he needed to be focused on getting the best interview he possibly could. After all, it was known that she didn't do many. She spoke as if she could read his mind. "Jon, is it?"

"Nice to finally meet you, Miss. Targaryen" Jon spoke politely as she took a seat in her large white desk chair.

"Please take a seat, and if it's fine with you, call me Dany" She held authority when she spoke; she wasn't giving Jon a choice really, he was telling her that was how she wanted to be addressed. It did surprise him though; he'd have thought she'd wish for him to address her as Miss. Targaryen seeing as they didn't know each other and they were conducting a formal interview. "You've come to ask me some questions; I believe"

"Aye, I have" Jon's northern accent purred in the room; it was a burden in situation likes these however; no one took him seriously. They always thought he sounded rough or as if he didn't care about what he was speaking of but he did. He was passionate about the world and passionate about pointing out everything wrong with it; that's why Journalism had such an appeal to him. He could use his voice to raise issues and change the world one blog post at a time. "That's a nice Violin; you play much?"

"From time to time" She leaned back in her chair, her arms resting on the rests. She looked like she was a queen on her throne. A small smirk enveloped her lips. "Not that has anything to do with my business"

"No it doesn't; but it sure will humanise you more when I write my article" Jon could see she wanted the power in the room, it only spurred him on to try and rattle her cage. And he knew he'd done so when the smirk disappeared off of her lips. He decided to start of small. "Let's forget the violin. I've heard many accounts but I want to hear it straight from the Dragon's mouth, how did you come up with the idea of Valyrian magazine?"

"The Dragon's mouth, such nice terminology for someone you've only just met" Dany's eyebrows were raised, a small amount of venom in her mouth.

"I've heard stories" Jon coolly replied.

Daenerys stared at him with almost a mark of respect, an appreciation for his honesty. She was smiling as this random man spoke to her in a way other had dared not to; or at least Jon felt like she was. He'd heard about Journalist been thrown out of this very room after only a few minutes; of a so called list of people banned from the building. He didn't want to be one of them but he still wanted to tread the line very carefully. Before his brain acted; she continued to talk.

"I've always enjoyed fashion; while living at home I often loved to dress up in my mothers vintage pieces. She collected fashion from all over the world and from different time periods. I used to spend hours lost in the fabrics and sequins, lost in dresses and corsets and leather bags and delicate shoes. I always thought to myself 'If my mother catches me in here; I am in trouble' and yet I still never left. I was enraptured with them all. She had two rooms in the house full of vintage pieces; and I can still remember them all"

"My father collected Literature; we had shelves and shelves of first editions of all the classics, Chaucer and Shakespeare and Mary Shelley. It was the smell more than anything that made me want to go into writing, the dusty feel of them" Jon nodded in understanding.

"Chaucer is a favourite of mine" Jon found himself slightly put off as Daenerys didn't take her eyes off of him. "'Who shall give a lover any law?’ Love is a greater law, by my troth, than any law written by mortal man"

"The Canterbury Tales" Jon appreciated the classics, and it looked as if she did too. Jon decided to test her. "In every cloud, in every tree-filling the air at night, and caught by glimpses in every object, by day I am surrounded with her image"

"Wuthering Heights" Dany's paused for a small moment. "Whoever you are—I have always depended on the kindness of strangers"

"A Streetcar Named Desire, a little more modern than Chaucer but still a classic play. My sister's did a performance of it when they were 13 and 11 in our garden. Arya is still the best Blanche I've ever seen" Jon laughed. He noted the time by the large metal clock on the wall to the right; he'd been in the interview five minutes; and he'd not been kicked out yet. "Chaucer and the Bronte's and Tennessee Williams and all the rest, were what got me into writing; you say your mother's vintage collection made you compelled to be apart of fashion"

"Indeed; her and my father's complete hatred for it. I've always been a stubborn child and anything my father says I'm not to do I've disobeyed; whether that is going to Nordstrom and buying a Chanel purse or opening my bedroom window and climbing out of the house when I had been grounded. The usual things"

Feeling like things were going semi to plan; he decided to bring out the big question.

"Recently your company has been under fire for some comments a former employee made about your working relationship with your staff; I believe the term 'Evil bitch' was used liberally in the New York Times. Care to comment?" Jon went straight for it; he knew it was a long shot that she'd answer the question but he wouldn't be doing his job if he didn't ask.

"And here I was thinking we were having a good time, Jon" She stood up from her chair and turned her back to him; staring out of the window once again.

"So you don't deny them" He leaned back in his chair; scribbling noted while she continued to ignore him. "It's a funny word, bitch isn't it? When did it become acceptable to use it to defame a woman's self confidence and assurance in the workplace?" He could see her petite frame rigid with anger, the infamous Dragon's fire. He continued as she never spoke. "Now all stories have some form of truth to them; there was quite clearly an issue with the lady in question. A Miss. Doreah Qarth?"

Daenerys snapped.

"Miss. Qarth's decision to part from this company is none of your concern. It is of no one's concern but hers and mine" Jon felt like he'd been smacked in the face by a metaphorical door. She'd closed the conversation on her former employee straight away; but Jon found himself wanting to know more, wanting to find out the ins and outs of her company. "She didn't like the way I worked; we had a disagreement and she went crying to the newspapers. I'm not saying I'm not assertive when the time comes; but if it pleases you, this conversation is now over"

That was it; the interview was done. He'd asked two proper questions and spoke of classic literature. He didn't get a chance to ask about her large donation last month to the WWF or the cover she'd done with his sister Sansa. She didn't look at him again; she just continued to star out of the bay window.

Annoyed that he'd wasted his time; not sure he could make anything out of this small ten minute exchange with her he got up off the seat and shoved his notes into his folder, leaving her with one last scathing line as he walked to he door.

"Thank you for your time, Miss. Targaryen. This is an honest piece I am looking forward to writing"

[babygirlgalitzine]

acting

Honestly I have no clue where this came from but I’ve been writing it for a while and Fake Dating is my favourite AU of all time so it does fit with day 7.

They don’t know how they ended up here. Honestly. But somehow, a simple comment in a televised interview had made social media blow up within seconds, “Aaron and Robert” trending almost instantly worldwide. Next days’ magazines and newspapers had headlines consisting of “Sugden and Dingle- the hottest new couple?”

Robert sighed as he flicked through his phone. “Spam…definite no to that interview. HE SAID WHAT?!” He frantically clicked a link on an email he had just received from his representative, explaining that Aaron Dingle had mentioned him in his latest interview and people were bombarding her with questions concerning Britain’s hottest new couple.

“Aaron Dingle Confirms New Romance?” the headline had read, with a botched Photoshop edit of two relatively new press released photos of Aaron and Robert. “In a recent interview, actor Aaron Dingle may or may not have confirmed he is in a relationship with rival actor, Robert Sugden. Speaking in his interview, Dingle, 26, joked about the rivalry between the pair, stating ‘No, there’s no bad blood there at all. Rob’s a great lad and we get on quite well. He’s a good looking lad, no wonder he gets all the girls screaming over him, I feel like that when I see him too.’ This comes after last month’s revelation from Mr Dingle that he is, in fact, gay. With Mr Sugden already out as bisexual, could this be their confirmation that they are a couple?”

Robert rolled his eyes before responding to Cindy, his representative, to deny all rumours that he and Aaron are an item, seething at the thought of it. He had been asked questions about Aaron throughout his career, the both of them starting their career at roughly the same time, in rival shows and only ever seeing each other at award shows.

People had quickly become attracted to the thought of them being together, fan accounts set up for the pair of them, coining the name ‘Robron’: something the press had picked up on after Aaron’s interview. They both knew how people felt about them but even when they both got questioned on it in interviews, they quashed rumours straight away.

When Aaron came out as gay, rumours became strife again, the public and press all just assuming that he must be in a serious relationship for him to come out at this stage in his career, having just released his second film which was the most anticipated film of the year. They both understood how difficult it is to come out in the industry they’re in, Robert having come out as bisexual just over five years ago, after he was pictured falling out of a nightclub with a random man and kissing in the middle of the street.

Aaron’s phone buzzed on the arm of the chair he was sat in. A Twitter notification. Mentioned by @Robert_Sugden: @AaronDingle so when were you planning on telling me you fancied me?

Aaron snorted in response, shaking his head in utter disbelief. He knew exactly why Robert was doing this publicly. He wanted a reaction from everyone. Aaron decided to reply back, tweeting Always fancied ya sweetcheeks. Text me anyway.

He wasn’t sure why he asked Robert to text him, but they had each other’s numbers from right back in the start of their career. They’d probably exchanged a few texts between them, mainly just about certain roles they were playing throughout the years they’d known each other.

He chuckled at the replies growing in the hundreds by the second, suddenly nervous at the prospect of Robert actually texting him. He decided to go off the Twitter app and focused on the script he was flicking through originally, before his phone buzzed five minutes later, the name Robert Sugden lighting up the screen. Hi, it’s Robert was the text. Aaron responded with Yeah I know, idiot. I’ve got your number.

Robert rolled his eyes at Aaron’s response. If he knew one thing about him, it was that Aaron was known for being sarcastic at times. They exchanged more texts, mainly just talking about the interview and the scripts both of them were flicking through. They talked for hours, never short of anything to say and it never become awkward. Robert had moved from his lounge to his bed in the time they were talking, not mentioning to Aaron, but Robert knew he’d moved because at one point he has spent quite a few words wrong before apologising saying Sorry, I just moved.

He didn’t know when exactly, but Robert must have fallen asleep in the early hours of the morning because he was led with his pillow upright and his phone next to his head, the battery almost dead. He plugged it in to charge before looking at his texts, not remembering the last thing he and Aaron said. I guess you’ve fallen asleep? Night was the last text from Aaron after he hadn’t responded to a question sent just thirteen minutes before at 03:07. Robert quickly answered the question and admitted that he did fall asleep before he collapsed his heavy head on the white pillow, sighing at the events of the day before.

Aaron woke up to his phone buzzing on his bedside table. His eyes flicked over to the clock and saw that it was almost midday. He picked up his phone, fully expecting it to be a missed call from his agent who needed Aaron to confirm whether or not he was interested in his recent script.  Instead, it was a text from Robert. Aaron groaned before responding with morning and pulled his quilt away from his body and leaving the bed. He’d been up until the early hours of the morning texting Robert, the two of them catching up like they were a couple of school friends who hadn’t seen each other for years. At one point, Robert had stopped responding and because it was quite late, or rather, early, Aaron decided that he must have fallen asleep. Aaron tried to sleep after that, he really did. But he tossed and turned for almost an hour, being too hot sometimes and then too cold. He couldn’t sleep with his elasticated bottom of his trackies halfway up his leg and no matter how many times he shoved it back down with his big toe, they always seemed to ride back up. It resulted in him sleeping in only his boxers, one leg under the quilt with the other one out, pillows shoved to his face and the mattress cover bunched up in the middle of the bed.

“I’m just saying, we need to hurry up with confirming this role. Robert! If you take this role, they need to cast the love interest straight away and they’ve got a rough idea on who they want, but they aren’t budging until you do.” Michael, Robert’s agent ranted as they both walked through the offices.

Robert stopped in his tracks and turned to face Michael, “Who are they casting?” He asked.

Michael looked down at the papers in his hand, red suddenly covering his face. “We-well nothing’s been confirmed yet but it’s looking likely to be Aaron. Aaron Dingle.”

That shut Robert up. He grabbed the papers out of his agent’s hands and pinched the ballpoint pen that was balancing in between Michael’s right ear and the side of his head. Robert quickly skimmed the terms and conditions of the contract before scrawling R. Sugden.

He was now signed up to do the film. With Aaron.

The news spread quickly that Robert was tipped to do the film. Of course, this meant that rumour mill had started spinning because it was also in the public domain that Aaron had been interested in the same film for the past couple of weeks.

Aaron turned through the channels on his TV screen just moments after confirming his role in a new film. He wasn’t really focused on what was going on, he just continued pressing the ‘next channel’ button as he stared absent mindedly at the colours flicking. “Could rumoured couple Robert Sugden and Aaron Dingle be on their way to becoming work colleagues at last?” The news presenter asked, looking directly down the camera. That caught Aaron’s attention. “It has come to light just moments ago that both Dingle and Sugden have signed their contracts for what’s rumoured to become the biggest blockbuster of the decade. We sat down with the director just weeks ago when speculation was strife about the love interests in this new movie and he told us that the love interest is definitely going to be a same sex couple. With this fact, and the news that both Aaron Dingle and Robert Sugden have agreed to a contract, could they be that same sex couple?”

Aaron stared at the screen, long after the report had ended. He was in a state of shock. Him and Robert had never worked together, they’d never really been together alone, only ever seeing each other at award shows and after parties. He texted his agent and asked if it was true that he and Robert were going to be working alongside each other. Not even five minutes he got a response, confirming that they were, indeed, going to be filming as each other’s love interest.

So I suppose we’re working together. Aaron had texted Robert later that night. Seems like it was the response he received. Somehow, half an hour later, Robert was sat in his car, driving following the instructions on his satnav. They had the brilliant idea of spending some time together, away from any colleagues or press, so Robert had offered to drive to Aaron’s house, right there and then. He pulled into the driveway and quickly got out, turning to face where he had just come from, checking to see if anyone had followed him. He couldn’t risk being seen going into Aaron’s house, not with all the rumours flying about.

He rang the doorbell and heard a voice from inside shout “It’s open!” Aaron.

Robert chuckled under his breath and stepped into Aaron’s house.

The first thing Robert noticed was how homely it was. He had family photos on the wall leading up the stairs, and a very distinct smell of cinnamon and orange. He noticed that he had a cabinet in his lounge, and upon it, various statues he had won over his career. Robert looked around, spotting a pair of old trainers placed sloppily next to the door. Looking up, he saw Aaron stood holding an Xbox control.

“Hey.” Robert said first, nodding at him.

Aaron looked at him, biting his lip before asking, “Wanna play? I’ll go and get us some beers, you choose the game.”

Robert took the control and sat down in front of the TV, stealing a glance at Aaron as he walked away. He was dressed in comfortable clothes, a pair of light wash joggers and navy hoodie. Robert suddenly felt over dressed in his shirt and jeans.

“Thanks.” Robert said as Aaron held out a can of lager for him.

They spent over an hour chatting to each other about anything and everything, arguing over FIFA because Aaron was convinced that Robert used a cheat on him, but really Aaron just wasn’t that great. At one point, Robert had got wound up because Aaron deliberately got one of his players sent off so he ended up nudging Aaron, Aaron then overdramatically fell to his side. They acted as though this wasn’t the first time they spent quality time with each other. It just felt natural.

Somehow, they’d ended up putting on a boxset and ordering in a Chinese, and before long they’d got to the end of the boxset in the early hours of the morning. Robert could feel his eyes drooping as he stood up to drive back home, but Aaron must have seen how tired he was,

“Stay over, I’ve got a spare bed you can use.” Aaron said, packing the empty beer cans in a bag.

Robert looked at him and yawned. Aaron continued, “You’re shattered! And I’m definitely not having your death on my conscience if you fall asleep at the wheel. Just stay over in the spare room and you can leave tomorrow.”

Robert finally agreed and Aaron showed him where the bedroom was.

 The next morning, Robert woke up to the strong smell of bacon and coffee coming from downstairs. He padded across the hallway and down the stairs, trying to remember the layout of Aaron’s house. Walking into the kitchen, he saw Aaron leaning against the worktop, a mug of steaming coffee in his hands while he fried some bacon. Robert sat down on one of the seats, pulling his shirt down a little to cover his boxers.

“Some of that for me?” Robert teased, his head nodding towards the frying pan.

Aaron gulped his coffee and nodded. “Yeah, ‘was gonna bring it up to you but I didn’t know if you liked tea or coffee.

“Tea please. 2 sugars and milk.”

Aaron nodded and flicked the kettle on, before pulling out another mug and some milk from the fridge. Robert watched as Aaron moved around, shirtless and only in a pair of football shorts. He looked good, great even. He was muscular, worked out a lot evidently. His shoulders were broad, and his arms looked almost comforting. “Ta.” Robert said, his throat dry as Aaron passed him his now made tea. “Mm, I should probably get going soon, I’ve got a meeting.”

Aaron nodded, before pulling the toast out of the toaster and putting the bacon on it. “Yeah, just stay for this and then you can go. Don’t want you driving on an empty stomach, do we?”

Dirty Stop-Out Sugden: Robert Sugden pictured leaving Aaron Dingle’s home. They’d been spotted. The paparazzi had photos of Robert walking into Aaron’s home the evening before and then again in the late morning, his hair dishevelled and in a top of Aaron’s. “Actor Robert Sugden was pictured going into, and then leaving, rumoured boyfriend Aaron Dingle’s home. He entered the property just after 7pm on Friday night and left just before 11am on Saturday morning. News also came out on Friday that both Dingle and Sugden will be co-stars in an upcoming film for the first time.”

Robert rolled his eyes as he saw the news pop up in his Twitter mentions constantly. He was waiting outside the meeting room, now changed into a suit to seem more presentable. “Nice to see you wearing your own clothes and not your boyfriends.” Cindy had commented as she opened the door for Robert to enter.

“Oh not you as well! I was in the spare bedroom!” Robert exasperated, clearly annoyed with all the new rumours.

Cindy chuckled as she sat down next to him, “Yeah but I know you Robert. And I also know that Aaron is definitely your type. You should go for it!”

Robert snorts and begins to look at the sheets of paper that were laid out in front of him on the table before his phone buzzed in his pocket. Have fun at your meeting, boyfriend😉 “I hate him, I actually hate him” Robert thought as he smirked at the message on his lockscreen.

Think we should just tell people now, boyfriend😉 Robert responded when the rest of the people came in to discuss the already signed contract, talking about when filming would start and what to tell the press in any interviews. Half an hour later and Robert was fully informed and ready to drive home. Before he left the building, he checked his phone again and it was full of notifications from his emails and Twitter. “Aaron, you bastard.” He muttered under his breath as he opened Twitter to see a post from Aaron. @AaronDingle: would love to finally announce that me and @Robert_Sugden are official. We wanted to keep it a secret but now its all out

Robert played along and retweeted it, sending Aaron a heart emoji.

The tweets blew up straight away, retweets and likes going up in their hundreds every second. New outlets rushed to get their stories out first. Both Robert and Aaron got multiple calls and emails, all of them from their agents, wanting them to talk to them first before speaking to any press.

Robert found a photo he took the night before, the two of them sat eating a Chinese whilst playing FIFA. Aaron had his hoodie up, covering his fluffy hair, a huge smile on his face, showing off his chow mein. Robert was in the front of the photo, laughing at Aaron’s reaction to it being taken. He posted it to Twitter, tagging Aaron in it before driving home.

By the time Robert had gone home, his and Aaron’s tweets had reached half a million retweets, and their names were trending worldwide with links to hundreds of news articles all claiming they’ve spoken to them. Aaron rang him. “Maybe we shouldn’t have done this?” Aaron almost questioned.

Robert unlocked his front door and chucked his script on the table, alongside his keys. “No, maybe not. But it is fun.”

Aaron sighed down the phone before admitting that it was. “Anyway, you can come around to mine if you want? I’ve got the script to look at and we should probably read through it properly because we start filming in two weeks.” Robert gushed out, toeing off his shoes and undoing the top buttons of his shirt.

“Yeah, alright then.” Aaron said before the two of them put the phone down.

Robert rushed upstairs, pulling out some joggers of his own and the top of Aaron’s he borrowed. He downloaded a few films onto his TV and put two copies of the script on to his coffee table and waited for Aaron whilst scrolling through his phone.          

Twenty minutes later, there was a knock at Robert’s door. He walked to it, opened it up and moved to the side so Aaron could walk in. “I’ve brought some beers.” Aaron announced, holding a pack up.

“Oh, nice one! I completely forgot about that to be honest.” Robert admitted as he let Aaron walk deeper into his house.

“Is this the script?” Aaron shouted from the room he just walked into. Robert followed him and put his phone in his pocket.

Robert nodded, “Yeah, I picked up two so you can have this one until you get your own.”

Aaron picked it up and flicked through the pages. He only got a sample script before signing the contract so he didn’t get to see his role completely. Part way through looking his eyebrows shot up and Robert chuckled at his reaction. “So we are love interests then?” Aaron asked.

Robert nodded, “Seems that way. Probably makes sense for us to be dating then, ey?”

Aaron sat down, laughing. “Oh c’mon!” He sighed. “It’s a bit of fun. Nobody’s gonna get hurt.”

Opening a beer, Robert sunk further into his sofa. “S’pose not.” He shrugged. “Still can’t believe we’ve done it though. When people find out we’re going to be hated.”

Aaron opened his own beer now, script balanced on his knees. “They won’t find out! Just carry this on for a bit and then we can eventually say we broke up.” He said as he continued to look at the script. “Oh and we have to kiss. Well that’s gonna make people cry.”

Robert laughed as he looked at his own script.

By the time Aaron left Robert’s house, they had gone through some of their parts together and managed to watch the first Harry Potter. Aaron also decided that they should post another photo of the two of them, so Robert took a photo on Aaron’s phone, where Aaron was slung over Robert’s shoulder, kissing his cheek while Robert smiled at the camera.

“Rob, you’re needed on set.” Aaron said has he walked into his own dressing room, not even shocked to find Robert sat in a chair, with his legs up on the table. It had been three months since Aaron had announced to the world that he and Robert were together and now they were working on their first joint film. The public were none the wiser that they weren’t actually together, both of them getting closer as time went by so people saw them in the streets together.

“Yup, I know. I’ll go now.” Robert said, groaning as he stood up.

Aaron sniggered. “Old man.”

Robert’s head whipped around straight away and he pointed his finger at Aaron, “Shut it, you, or I’ll take back what I’ve left on your desk.” He walked out of the room, softly shutting the door and Aaron could hear his heavy footsteps walking up the corridor.

Aaron rolled his eyes and sat where Robert was just moments before. He picked up his phone that was put on his desk, groaning in annoyance about his smashed screen that he hasn’t found time to fix yet. Next to his phone was a closed box of Malteasers, a pack that was definitely not there when he left the room a few hours prior. That must have been what Robert was talking about, Aaron thought as he opened them up. Except, underneath the box was a piece of lined paper that looked as though it had been ripped out of a notebook. It had been folded up, hiding the message that read: Aaron, meet me at The Dorchester, 6pm tonight -Robert x

He grabbed his phone, checking the time. 3pm. He had three hours to find a suit and get to the hotel. Quickly pocketing his phone and grabbing his script, he made his way out of the room and down the corridor, ready to sign out and drive home. Robert’s just lucky that Aaron had finished for the day, otherwise he’d be getting stood up.

It took him just over twenty minutes to get home, his brain ticking on all the suits he could possibly wear. In the end, he decided to go for a tight fitted black suit with a bright white shirt. He jumped into the shower and then stood in front of his bathroom mirror with the towel wrapped around his waist and did his hair. As he was applying a bit of gel to his hair, he heard his phone chime from his bedroom. He ran in, his hand clenched around the towel making sure that it didn’t fall down. He took his phone out of charge, smiling as he saw the text from Robert.

Hey, just checking in to see if we’re on for tonight? don’t want to get stood up x

Like he’d turn him down.

Yeah, i’m getting ready now x Aaron responded before he went back into the bathroom and finished his hair.

By the time he had got dressed, he hadn’t noticed his phone going off again with a text from Robert.

Show me what you’re wearing tonight x

Aaron didn’t know exactly when they both started signing their texts off with kisses, but he knew it had been going on for a while by the looks of his messages as he scrolled up.

You’ll see x Aaron texted back before getting into his car and driving.

 Aaron pulled up his car to see Robert leant against his own car, his leg bent at the knee and his foot balanced on the wheel. “Hey.” Aaron shouted out as he locked his car.

Robert straightened up as soon as he heard Aaron’s voice, putting his phone in his pocket and stroking his lapels. He looked up at Aaron as he neared and his eyes scanned his body. Wow. “You look…amazing.” Robert told Aaron, his eyes trailing back up his body to look into his eyes.

Aaron blushed and returned the compliment before they walked in to the restaurant part of the hotel.

“Ah, Mr Sugden, Mr Dingle!” The maitre d’ enthused as they walked through the door. “So delighted you chose to come here for your meal! As discussed on the phone, Mr Sugden, we will place you towards the back of the restaurant in a secluded spot.”

Robert nodded and thanked him, shocking Aaron by grabbing hold of his hand and entwining their fingers together, pulling slightly to get Aaron to move. People looked up from their tables to see the two men walking to their own table.

 “See anything you fancy?” Aaron asked as he peeped over his menu.

Robert pulled his own menu down, looking at Aaron. “You?” He cheekily replied.

Aaron’s cheeks visibly pinkened before Robert spoke again, “Actually, the lobster sounds nice.”

Aaron nodded and looked back at his menu before finding the sea bass and pointing it out to Robert, waiting for him to look up at him. “Rob,” Aaron whispered. “This looks good. Can I get it?”

Robert looked up at his date and said “Yeah, get whatever you want, it’s all on me.”

“You don’t have to do that, I can pay myself, y’know?” Aaron stated.

“Yeah,” Robert started, “I know. But I was the one who asked you here so I want to be the one to spoil you. So choose whatever you want and I’ll buy it.”

Aaron smirked, folded the menu and placed it onto the table. He crossed his arms and stared at Robert, who’s eyes were still scanning the menu. “I can feel you watching me.” Robert said without even looking up.

“Yeah well maybe I fancy you too.” Aaron flirted.

Robert really did look gorgeous. He had left his hair flat as he knew that Aaron liked the softness of it and he was wearing a navy suit with a slightly paler blue shirt. His skin was pale, showing off his darkest freckles and if Aaron looked closely enough, he could see the lightest ones scattered across the bridge of his nose and cheeks.

“So is this you flirting with me for the fun of it, or do you genuinely fancy me?” Robert asked, clearly interested in the answer. He put the menu down onto the table, copying Aaron’s position and looking directly into his eyes.

Aaron shrugged before laughing, his eyes lighting up. “No, I genuinely like you Robert. Shocking, innit?”

Robert reached over and put his hand on Aaron’s, stroking his knuckles softly. “I like you too.”

The rest of the meal ran smoothly, the food being exceptional, but they expected that with the restaurant having three Michelin stars. Robert didn’t want to let go of Aaron’s hand, even though he had to for them to be able to eat. Instead, Aaron took the initiative to link their legs together under the table, so throughout the meal, Aaron foot run up and down Robert’s calf, their other legs with their ankles linked together. Robert appreciated the touch, it made him feel like Aaron wasn’t ashamed to be with Robert.

 Aaron leaned against his car, waiting for Robert to finish signing an autograph for the waiter, something that Aaron had already done whilst Robert was in the bathroom. When Robert came out, he walked straight over to Aaron and held onto his waist. “Good date?” Robert asked.

Aaron looked down between the pair of them, their stomachs practically touching as Robert ran his hands up and down Aaron’s sides. “Yeah. It was the best.” Aaron confirmed.

He doesn’t think he’d ever seen Robert smile so bright. His cheeks must have ached at the reaction, his grin all teeth and his eyes crinkling at the side. “So, as I did so well at our first date, can I steal a kiss from you?” Robert asked cheekily.

“Oh, I dunno.” Aaron flirted as he pushed his back further into the car, his arms coming up to hold on to Robert’s lapels.

Robert leaned in and brushed his nose against Aaron’s cheek, delicately kissing it as he moved to his lips. Robert’s own were parted, ready to kiss Aaron finally. Their breath mingled in the air as neither of them really moved closer to the other, until Robert couldn’t wait any longer and his lips wrapped around Aaron’s bottom lip, sucking on to it slightly as his hands flew up to Aaron’s neck, his fingers threading through the short hairs at the back of his head. Aaron groaned almost silently as Robert moved his lips, pushing the kiss deeper, Aaron almost breaking his back against the car. After a few more moments, Robert pulled away from the kiss, keeping his hands at Aaron’s neck, still threading through the hairs and pecked his lips once more before detaching himself completely.

“Wow.” Was all Aaron could say as his left hand came up and touched his now sore lips.

“Wow indeed.” Robert smirked as he kissed Aaron’s forehead and winked before announcing that he was going home.

When Robert did eventually get home, his phone buzzed on the dashboard of his car. He knew it was Aaron straight away so he smiled as he picked it up.

Thanks for tonight, really. Was amazing, best date i’ve ever been on xx

His head fell back onto the head rest and he smirked at the car roof before replying with You’re welcome babe, we’ll have to have another date soon xx

 “And Robert, if you put your hand on his waist...yeah that’s it! Perfect!” The director yelled as he positioned Aaron and Robert for their characters on screen kiss.

They’d been working relentlessly for four hours, running over scenes that needed to be re-filmed and ones that they hadn’t yet filmed. It was tiring and the lights were starting to give Aaron a headache. After this shift, they only had two more days left on set and then it was press interviews for a few weeks, so both Robert and Aaron had been struggling to keep spirits up in a tightly packed schedule.

It had been less than a week since their date. Less than a week since their first kiss- and now their second one would be in character, in front of several cameras. Aaron- or rather- his character, smiled as he leaned forward, getting closer to Robert’s face. Their lips met and it was soft and tender, juxtaposed with Aaron’s wiry beard and Robert’s cracked lips. It wasn’t anything electric, nothing like their first kiss. It was pure, heart-warming even.

“That’s a wrap!” The director shouted. “Thanks boys, that was perfect! Only two more days to go, we’re almost there now.”

Robert smirked at Aaron, his hands still on his waist, warming Aaron’s skin up. He rubbed his hand up and down slightly, trying to not put anyone’s attention on them. “Come to my dressing room?” Robert asked softly before pulling his hand away.

Aaron nodded, not bothering to risk talking. He knew he was falling for Robert and the more time he spent with him, the more he felt like he wanted their relationship to be real. Every photo they had taken and uploaded, every video recorded of them messing around was all real on Aaron’s part. He didn’t want to share it with the world; he wanted to keep Robert to himself.

When they got to Robert’s dressing room, Robert walked in first, Aaron trailing behind him. Robert grabbed hold of Aaron’s wrist, pulling him rather harshly into the door and shutting it behind him, Aaron’s back now pressed against it. Robert smirked and his head went straight to Aaron’s neck, his mouth latching onto the skin and kissing. He mumbled against it, “I’ve wanted to do this for so long.”

Aaron leant his neck to the other side, exposing more of his skin and Robert chuckled as his kissed and nipped at his neck. Aaron could feel Robert’s breath through his nose, tickling him but also raising goosebumps.  He grabbed onto Robert’s hips, pushing Robert into him until their bodies were fully touching, and Aaron’s hands moved down to rest on his arse. Robert moved his head up, breathing heavily now and pushed his lips onto Aaron’s, the younger man eliciting a loud moan. He started to roll his hips against Robert, this time Robert was the one moaning as Aaron grew more confident. Robert grounded his hips into Aaron’s, both of them moving at the same time and kissing more deeply. Aaron could feel something pool in the bottom of his stomach and he was ready to let go completely when there was a knock at the door.

“Mr Sugden, can we quickly run through the interview schedule with you?” The voice asked.

Robert pulled back from Aaron, his head tilting back in disbelief. He looked at Aaron and apologised before pecking his lips and opening the door.

“Oh, hello Mr Dingle. Well if the both of you are together I guess we can kill two birds with one stone and tell you at the same time.” The girl continued but Aaron was distracted by Robert rubbing his back in circular motions.  

Robert nodded at the woman at certain point of her talking and Aaron hoped that meant he was following what she was saying because he had no clue. Robert carried on rubbing Aaron’s back, getting further down his spine and finished with his hand in his back pocket, lightly tapping and squeezing Aaron’s arse. The girl must have known something was up because Robert’s hair was all over the place and Aaron’ face was still bright red and that didn’t seem to be changing anytime soon.

“Yeah, we’ve got it! Thanks Kelly.” Robert announced and opened the door to let her out. Once he knew she was gone, he faced Aaron and began to kiss him again, smiling into the kiss.

 Aaron sat next to Robert, their bodies pressed together on the sofa. It was their sixth interview of the day and thankfully the last. This was always the most boring part of releasing movies, tediously answering the same or similar questions in every interview, trying to think of new and original answers but struggling after the first three times. Robert swore that if he got asked what superpower he’d have one more time he’d retire early. Aaron could see Robert getting progressively fed up as the day went on and he tried to keep him entertained by throwing sweets at him and making ridiculous Snapchat videos of the two of them.

As it is, the final interview was probably the best one of the whole day, the interviewer asking genuinely interesting questions about the difficulties of filming and if they’d ever want to go into directing themselves.

“I don’t think we could do an interview without asking about your relationship. So, how did the two of you get together?” The interviewer interrogated.

Aaron took the lead with this question, “Well I mentioned Robert in an interview and we basically started texting each other and chilling at each other’s houses, having mini dates in the comfort of our own home and now we’re here”

Robert slung his arm around Aaron’s shoulders and pulled him into his neck, Aaron playfully rolling his eyes.

“You look so in love.” The interviewer commented and without thinking, Robert responded.

“Yeah, well I love him, don’t I?”

Aaron’s eyes went wide and his mouth parted. “Wait what?” He practically shouted.

Robert fiddled with his fingers, nervous straight away. Aaron recognised that face and attempted to resurrect his comment by saying, “Sorry, that was the first time he’s said it. But..” He nudged his nose into Robert’s cheek, “I love you too.”

“Awww.” The interviewer crooned.

 Aaron slammed the car door as he sat in the drivers seat. He had driven him and Robert to the final interview because it wasn’t that far away from his house and they had had a break before it. He banged the wheel and shouted “Fuck!”

Robert tapped on the window before opened the door and sunk down into the passenger seat. “I know it was stupid for me to say that then and I really am sorry. Please just forgive me because I’m an idiot and you know it!” His voice cracked, clearly almost in tears. “I shouldn’t have said it in an interview.”

Aaron turned his body around to look at Robert, whose cheeks now had tears falling down them. He lifted his hands up and held onto Robert’s face, his thumbs stroking the tears away. “Hey, it’s fine. I just wasn’t expecting it.” He soothed.

“We aren’t even together, I should’ve asked you to be my boyfriend first.” Robert ranted, his voice shaky from his tears.

Aaron furrowed his eyebrows, confusion flooding across his face. “You were being serious? You actually love me?” He questioned.

Robert sniffed and nodded. “Yeah. Now I’m guessing you don’t?”

“No! I mean, yeah! Yes Robert, I bloody love you! I thought you were just saying it because of where we were!” Aaron rambled, his eyes circulating Robert’s face, trying to decipher how he was feeling.

They were silent for a few moments, staring at each other before Robert grabbed Aaron’s cheeks and kissed him harshly. The kiss heated up quickly, passion rising between the two of them at their confessions. Robert somehow managed to straddle Aaron’s lap, the steering wheel digging uncomfortably into his back but he didn’t seem to care. “I love you too.” He whispered as he pulled back from the kiss, their foreheads touching. Aaron tilted his head up, trying to reach Robert’s lips once more, not wanting to part from him at all. It was Aaron who deepened the kiss this time, his tongue licking into Robert’s mouth before Robert leaned back just that little bit too much and landed on the steering wheel, letting the car horn go off. Aaron laughed into Robert’s mouth, unable to believe the fact that Robert was sat on his lap, snogging each other like horny teenagers at a party.

Robert refused to move from Aaron’s lap, sitting down properly and locking his hands together at the back of Aaron’s neck. “So, will you be my boyfriend? Officially.” Robert asked, tilting his head.

Aaron moved his hands so they were placed on Robert’s arse. “Hmm, yes!” He confirmed. He tapped Robert’s bum once and said, “Now shift, I’ll drive you home.”

 Second date tonight!! You better look good x Robert texted his boyfriend the morning of the film premiere. They had decided that this would be their second date, and as neither had stayed over at the others house since they became official a week ago, they decided that Robert would pick Aaron up and they’d drive there and back together, Robert maybe staying the night.

I’ll look like shit compared to you though, everyone fancies you x Aaron responded and Robert rolled his eyes. It had been an ongoing joke that everyone fancies Robert because he’s bisexual, something that doesn’t bother Aaron at all, despite recent news articles.

A few hours later, Robert got into his car and drove to Aaron’s house, beeping his horn to let Aaron know he was there. His had parked so he was facing away from the house, so he couldn’t see Aaron locking the door and walking to the passenger seat. Neither of them knew what the other was wearing for the premiere, their suits had been picked out and tailor made for their body, tightly fitted in all the right places.

Aaron sat down in the car, chucking his wallet on the dashboard before leaning over and kissing Robert. “You look amazing.” Robert said, looking at him properly before leaning in again. He really was lucky to have Aaron.

Smiling at Robert, Aaron returned the compliments and rested his hand on Robert’s thigh as he drove off to Leicester Square. “So, are you staying over tonight?” Aaron asked, his thumb stroking the outside of Robert’s thigh.

Keeping his eyes on the road, Robert nodded, “Yeah, bags in the back. Doubt I’ll be needing any clothes though.” He flirted.

Aaron scoffed, “Oh shut up!” and looked out of the window, his hold on Robert’s leg not faltering once.

 “Robert! Robert!” “Aaron! Aaron, look this way!” The lights were blinding, the camera’s flashing at what seemed a million miles an hour.

They both hated red carpet events, the screams of paparazzi’s trying to get the best photos for their articles, the interviewers pushing each other just to get the first interview, not even to mention the repeated questions and comments again.

Robert wrapped his arm around Aaron, both of them smiling in the photos. Robert muttered under his breath at one point for Aaron to look behind the cameras, at a woman stood in the crowd wearing a wedding dress, thus creating the best photo of the night, Aaron’s grin as he laughs and Robert looked at the man whose body had crumpled half its size as he laughed, Robert smiling widely too.

When it was time to walk to the interviewers, Robert and Aaron decided to split up, trying to get through as many interviews as quickly as possible with their co-stars. Unsurprisingly, many of the questions asked was about their relationship. Aaron had finished his portion of interviews before Robert, who had now joined the director and was talking about whether Robert himself would like to go into directing. He walked over to where they were being interviewed, indicating to the woman holding the microphone that he was going to scare Robert. He jumped out at him a few moments later, grabbing on to Robert’s waist to stop him from jumping and knocking anyone out. “Don’t! Do that, Aaron. You know I get scared easily you idiot.” Robert chastised Aaron before pulling him under his arm and kissing his cheek. “Just spoke about you.” Robert whispered against his skin.

“Oh yeah?” Aaron asked curiously.

“Yeah, talking about how much I love you.”

“Love you too.” Aaron replied, kissing him again before the three of them concluded the interview and walking into the theatre.

“It genuinely looked amazing though, like I wasn’t expecting the fight scenes to be like that at all.” Aaron rambled on as he opened his front door for him and Robert.

He was definitely a nerd when it came to the final products of films, mind-blown by the production and directing. It was quite endearing for Robert really, he loved to see Aaron excited by something they do as their job. But right now, he wanted Aaron upstairs, in his bed.

Robert kissed Aaron deeply, trying to get him to stop speaking but he didn’t stop instantly, still trying to finish his sentence with Robert’s lips on his. “C’mon, upstairs.” Robert muttered, grasping hold of Aaron hand and dragging him to the stairs.

They continued to kiss as they struggled to make it up the stairs. Robert was leading, mouth on Aaron, his hand pulling at Aaron’s tie as he walked backwards. When they had eventually made it into the bedroom, Aaron quickly unwrapped Robert’s tie and unbuttoned his shirt before ripping it off, the blazer still attached somehow. He kissed down Robert’s neck, pushing him towards the bed before the two of them became tangled in the quilt, moving about undressing each other completely. Robert left open kisses all over Aaron’s body, starting at his neck, going down his chest spending more time than necessary sucking and biting at his sensitive nipples before ending up at his thighs, biting a little bit harder, making Aaron moan in a way that Robert would probably never forget.

 Twelve hours later they had woken up, time now way past midday and the sun beaming in through the open curtains. Aaron’s body was curled around Robert’s, their heads facing each other and Robert’s hand subconsciously stroking Aaron’s hair. Robert woke up first, his eyes opening slowly so he wouldn’t be blinded straightaway. He couldn’t move from Aaron’s hold once he had fully woken up, so he just laid there, a little bit too hot under the cover and Aaron’s overheated body. Aaron woke up around ten minutes later to Robert kissing his forehead.

“Morning.” Aaron grumbled out, morning voice making him sound like a teenager going through the change.

He rolled over and shoved his face into the pillow and groaned before stretching his body and yawning.

“Morning.” Robert whispered back, kissing Aaron softly. “Can we just stay here all day?”

Aaron smirked and nodded, “Yeah, but I’m starving and I need a piss.”

Robert’s face crunched up in mock disgust, but soon smoothed out when Aaron leaned forward and kissed him before shoving the covers off him and walking off to the bathroom. Stark naked. Robert wolf whistled at Aaron and started laughing when Aaron’s response was sticking his finger in the air.

Waiting for Aaron to return, Robert picked his phone up and put it on charge, flicking through his emails congratulating him on the premiere of the film, and links to more scripts. By the time Aaron had come back, Robert managed to send off one email and was now looking through another about the annual award show. He had been invited to it after being nominated for the award that Aaron beat him to, Best Actor. After looking at the other nominees, he noticed that Aaron wasn’t up for it, but that wasn’t surprising considering he had a year out from TV to focus on films.

“I’m up for best actor.” Robert announced as Aaron sat on his bed, holding out some toast while a piece was already stuck between his teeth.

His eyes shot open, “Wait really? Oh my god, that’s amazing! I’m so proud of ya!” Aaron rambled.

Robert was still a little bit in shock, he hadn’t been expecting it at all. “Will you come with me?” He asked, “T-to the award show?”

Aaron nodded, “Yeah, course.”

 Two months later and Aaron and Robert were donning some suits again. It was the night of the award show and Robert was nervous, having made the shortlist and was now up against only 3 people. This would be the biggest award in his career so far and he had no clue what he would do if he won it. He genuinely hadn’t let the thought cross his mind until that morning when Aaron asked him if he had sorted a speech out over breakfast.

“What, no! I won’t even win, I can’t think of anything to say!” Robert ranted.

Aaron moved closer to him and held his arms out to put his hands on either side of Robert’s face. “Hey, I believe in you. You deserve to win this, you’re amazing and you need to start believing that.”

After Aaron wasn’t nominated this time around, they decided that they’d go together and for the first time, Aaron would sit with Robert, surrounded by the cast of his show, rather than Aaron sitting with the cast from his show. They sat together, Aaron on the left of Robert, their hands holding while they drank the first pint of the night.

Robert’s award was the last to be announced, the main award that everyone wanted to take home.

“And the winner of the Best Actor 2017 is...ROBERT SUGDEN!”

The cheers around him erupted and Robert was in shock. This couldn’t be happening. No. Aaron stood up first, cheering and clapping and Robert stood up instinctively, gasping for air and putting his hands to his mouth in shock. Aaron pulled his hands away and kissed him, completely unaware of the cameras that had turned up in front of Robert, waiting for him to start walking up to the stage.

“Wow, erm. Thanks, I guess! I genuinely didn’t have a speech prepared for this because I didn’t think I’d win looking at the other nominees. This morning, my boyfriend kinda screwed it into my head that I should probably think about making one, but I was still convinced I’d lose.” Robert announced, hand wrapped around the statuette. “This is the second time I’ve been nominated for this exact award, and, well we all know how it went two years ago, don’t we Mr Dingle?” The audience laughed at his joke as the camera focused on Aaron for a moment, who was smiling wildly at his boyfriend on stage. “Anyway, I just want to say thanks to everyone at the show for giving me the opportunity to do what I love every day; it’s such a blessing to be working with you. Thanks to everybody who voted for me as well, and a special thanks to my other half, whose sitting over there,” He said as he pointed Aaron out, “you astound me every day that I’m lucky enough to spend with you by my side, you’ve helped me so much and you continue to believe in me in everything I do. I love you.”

“LOVE YOU TOO.” Aaron shouted back, making everyone around him laugh.

  Four years had passed since Robert won Best Actor. It was now 2021 and Aaron and Robert had moved in together. They bought a new house, and decorated it showing both their personalities. Aaron took Robert out for a meal three years ago, in their favourite restaurant. Robert hadn’t noticed at first, but Aaron had booked the entire place out for them. Still, Robert thought nothing of it because they hadn’t seen each other for a while and sometimes Aaron liked to do romantic things like that. The only time it clicked that Aaron was proposing was when he was on one knee, holding the ring out to him. Of course, he said yes and they wed eight months later.

Their favourite memory from their relationship however, was the little baby girl now led in between them in their bed, a white dummy in her mouth and a pale pink baby-grow on her. She yawned around her dummy and the boys watched as it fell to the side of her head. Robert picked it and held it in his own mouth, both of them watching as she stuck her little tongue out. Three days before, their lives changed when their surrogate went into labour, ringing them with the good news. Annie was born six hours later, dark brown hair already curly and bright blue eyes. Robert would never forget seeing her in his husband’s arms for the first time, his daughter wrapping his entire hand around his finger. She still does that now and Robert loves it, he loves seeing his little fingers spreading out, and her even smaller fingernails. She was perfect, and they were content.

[blschaos3000-blog]

Its 5:00 pm humid/rainy

Welcome to “8 Questions with….”

For this edition of “8 Questions with….” I decided to take a different route,instead of finding my interview guest on FB,I decided I would select an interesting person from Twitter.  As I was scrolling my wall,I started noticing a handle called “!!Coby Creatiions!! and decided to check it out and see who this Coby was. My first instinct was Coby was a artist and I have been hankering to talk with another artist ever since I chatted with Louie De Martinis but artists are hard to pin down (yo,Meaghan!!) due to the nature of their work. So asked I asked Coby if he would be willing to talk about his work and himself,I wasn’t expecting such  a quick reply when he “Sure”. I found Coby to be a very pleasant and cheerful person to chat with and that while he is a very good artist as shown by two pieces in the interview,his main passion is writing. He is currently in the middle of writing a novel which is never a easy task and when it gets a little heavy,he pops out for a little California sun. Coby recently started a blog and has started posting his stories and updates there. I provided a link below.  But before you head for the blog…slow down and read my interview with Coby Crawford of Coby’s Creations.

  Please introduce yourself and tell us about latest project

My family calls me Coby and my friends call me Crawf(ord). Twenty-eight years old, living the slow life in Ocean Beach, California. I’m from the small town of Bethesda, Ohio. Moved to Columbus and then here to separate myself from distractions and really get into my work. My main focus is on writing, although I do some illustrations and teach a paint ‘n’ sip class here in San Diego. My most recent finished project is a short story titled “There’s Something in The Woods” but I’m currently in the editing stages of a novel I’ve been working on for a while now. It consumes most of my time.

What was it like growing up in your home? Were your folks readers/artists as well?

My parents weren’t very artistic. I have a feeling that my dad could be if he ever tried, but he’s a very proper man. Not a lot of expression—a bunch of grayscale clothes. But he’s very intelligent and likes all the greats like Lord of The Rings and Star Wars. My mom is the total opposite of my dad. We like to go out and have fun together. We like a lot of the same music, so we hit up concerts together. My older brother is a very good artist. He has great tastes in films and good stories. So, the fact that he loved my novel makes me confident.

Who were your favorite writers/artists growing up? Which came first to you…writing or drawing?

If I had to pick one, I guess I would say Dickens. But, my love for writing didn’t develop as traditionally as most. It started as a love for film. I would always watch these movies, but really get into the story—which ones had the most character growth or took me on an emotional ride? If someone died, and I felt heartache because the writer and, in this case the director, had somehow managed to make me emotionally attached to a character in two hours of watching a story he just made up—I think that’s amazing. My drawing came far before my writing, although it didn’t necessarily come before my story telling. I can remember sitting at my grandma’s coffee table, not old enough to be in school yet. I would draw things that I made up. Maybe a creature from another planet. Maybe a foe for Batman, from a Batman story I made in my head. That’s just a random example.

 Is there a difference between an illustrator and an artist? If so, what are they?

In my opinion, yes. Artist is a very broad term. Maybe I use it too generally, but I’d call anyone who creatively expresses themselves an artist. An illustrator is just a more specific type of artist that specializes in illustration. You don’t have to be an illustrator to be an artist, but you do have to be an artist to be an illustrator. 

 What scares you?

I fear never feeling like I succeeded as much as I could have, but it wouldn’t make any sense to have goals shy of the moon. I am striving for the absolute best version of myself. I am writing because I want to become one of the best. I don’t fear death, just not accomplishing as much in a lifetime as I could have. Sometimes it drives me, but it’s also a bad mindset. Sometimes I can’t enjoy things like going to a movie or to the beach, because I’m not revising a short story so another one can come sooner rather than later.

Where do you get your ideas from?

They come from all over the place. The idea for the novel I’m writing came to me when I was at the Fashion Meets Music Festival in Columbus. I was watching Ludacris with my brother and girlfriend at the time and I looked over and told them the most random thought for this fiction adventure. That was the seed, then the rest of the story came later. I don’t fish for ideas. I don’t sit around and think what a good story would be. They’re just somehow there one day. I could be driving down the road, see something on a sign that gets me thinking about a topic and then suddenly, I have a great story idea.

What is a typical day for you like, creatively wise? Walk us through a day when are you are working on a project?

Every morning I wake up and promote Coby Creations on my social media platforms from my phone. Then, once I’m alive and moving, I’ll be making a smoothie and coffee in the kitchen, shower and out the door. I can not stay at home if I want to accomplish a lot. I’ll be getting up and looking in the fridge or just creating ways to distract myself. I like to go to this local coffee shop, set up shop at a table and go to work for hours. There will be a pen and notebook beside my laptop. I’ll be typing and then a simple detail or sentence will pop into my head that would make the story better and I’ll write “go find where Chris said this and change it to that.” I’ll know when it’s time to stop. I’ll be forcing words onto the page, when before they would spill onto it. At that point, when I feel like the writing is done for the day, I’ll read and study the works of others for inspiration.

 How do you challenge yourself creatively?

I challenge myself to get weird with it. Stories are only crazy until they’re successful. I don’t limit my creativity. For the longest time I was afraid to show my work because I was afraid of what others might think of it. Some of the stuff I write can be out there, but it’s something special when I let go and write like nobody would see it. Then, I post it on the internet for everyone to see. It’s very freeing to express yourself in your work and show it to the world. I think everyone should be expressing themselves all the time. But you also must be brave enough to face the feedback and criticism. 

 Which is in a better place right now in your opinion: Horror novels or horror films and why?

I would have said novels for the longest time, but at this moment I’m going to say films. I’ve seen some great directors emerge recently like Ari Aster and Jordan Peele. There will always be the ones banking on the possessed dolls or a remake of a remake of some old slasher to sell tickets, but I’ve been very impressed with the originality in some of these horror films in the last half decade. 

 Which three artists/illustrators are tearing it up today and what makes them great?

I don’t know a lot of illustrators by name. They never get the credit they deserve. For an example—I was watching Into the Spider verse and couldn’t quit thinking about how amazing the artist behind that must have been. But unless you read the credits, you’ll never know. I don’t give my input on topics I’m not knowledgeable about. But, since you said artists, I’m going to use it as the broad term I talked about earlier and spin the question. Jack White just released new work. He’s one of the best musicians to ever do it. Tarantino’s new film looks like it’s going to be incredible. He’s pretty much owned the game for fifteen years. And how about George R.R. Martin having the world wrapped up in his story? They’re all original. They aren’t doing anything but being themselves. 

 The cheetah and I are coming to watching a showing of your work but we are a day early and you are now playing tour guide. What are we doing? 

Ocean Beach is the most down to Earth place you will ever step. We’ll take a walk up to Newport Avenue and hit up Hodad’s—the greatest burger joint ever! You’ll get a wave from 9 out of 10 people we pass. Then we can go to a crowded beach full of people from across the world, mostly in San Diego for the surf. Or we can go to one of the numerous secluded beaches around the city where there’s less noise and more relaxation. If your friends with me then you like to go out Saturday night. We might head down to the Gaslamp District. But if it’s a random Tuesday we might watch the sunset and waves from my patio and order a pizza from Poma’s. It’s fire!

  I like to thank Coby for his time,his talent and his words. I’m posting links to his Twitter and his new blog so you can keep up with this very talented young man.

You can follow Coby on his Twitter here.

You can also enjoy Coby’s creativity at his blog “Coby’s Creations“

Oh yeah,you can follow us as well on Facebook and Twitter.

Feel free to drop a comment or three……

8 Questions with……………writer/artist Coby Crawford Its 5:00 pm humid/rainy Welcome to "8 Questions with...." For this edition of "8 Questions with...." I decided to take a different route,instead of finding my interview guest on FB,I decided I would select an interesting person from Twitter. 

[vtmusicomp]

Music Connection

In my previous entry I wrote about Grant’s song lyrics and poetry. That’s certainly not all the writing he did - I found a children’s story he wrote for his two favorite kiddos which I will post here after this entry. He also edited the script for Open Roads, a film project with which he was involved the entire time I knew him (it’s still in development but I expect it be released due to the dogged work ethic and character of Grant’s friend Jared, whose project it is). When Grant and I met, his job was to write posts from the Dad perspective on a weblog for Moms. After that position, he briefly wrote for a marketing company called Blue Sand Design before he moved on to Avery Dennison. At Avery Dennison, he wrote material for corporate consumption as an Internal Communications Specialist. Here’s a picture of him with his colleagues, many of whom came to his Los Angeles Celebration of Life.

He loved his job at Avery Dennison; I have no doubt about it. The wages were competitive, the environment was nice, the culture was positive, and his coworkers were friendly - we should all work there! However, Grant expressed some frustration with not having an outlet to write about subjects meaningful to him, where he would be compensated for his work. He was looking to expand his extracurricular activities with a side-gig, similar to what I was doing with my various bands. If he just wanted to publish, he could have gotten a guest blogger credit on Huffington Post or something similar, but he wasn’t looking to be devalued. Writing for ‘exposure’ – you know, that thing every artist doesn’t know they’re supposed to accept in lieu of getting paid for their hard work – didn’t appeal to him. He needed to build a body of work so he could leverage it into even more work. Luckily, there is a perfect vehicle for this which pays a nominal fee and supports independent artists: Music Connection.

MC put an ad on LinkedIn looking for content writers to review local shows. While it didn’t pay a lot, you did get comp tickets to the shows you were reviewing. Grant sent their editor samples of his writing and was booked on his first gig, a review of the band Ghost Lit Kingdom at the Viper Room. He was so psyched to do this – it’s the perfect gig for a music lover. The band’s manager got him two guest list tickets for the show, which he needed because there’s no way I was not going with him to his first gig. We brought my Canon and I played the role of Live Music Photographer (I should not quit my day job; at best, you could describe my work product as adequate). I also secretly took some notes on the band in case he wanted to throw in anything technical about the music itself, which he did end up doing.

The next show was a 13-piece big band at Catalina Jazz Club. I had a great time getting in front of people to take pictures while Grant sat at the table, critically listening and fulfilling the two-drink minimum.  Some of my favorite reviews of Grant’s included a French girl who tried to do soul and funk (I say tried because neither me nor Grant was buying it, but she was committed and you have to respect that); a blues guy with a gravelly voice and a band full of hired guns; and a Boston-based, punk rock female duo called Mr. Airplane Man. That last one was probably the most indie show either of us has ever been to – and that’s coming from someone who literally plays in an indie rock band.

Grant also wrote Signing Stories, which were articles about bands who had just been signed by a label and were starting to see some success. Grant would interview them over the phone and write up three paragraphs for the magazine. The first one of these he did was for a band called Sunflower Bean. I remember him telling me at the time he thought they were going places. He was right; just this past October (2018) they opened for Interpol and The Kills at the Hollywood Bowl. Here’s a gratuitous shot of us at the Hollywood Bowl in 2017 - this was two months post-radiation, when he had the boy-band haircut and had to use more product than me to get his hair to behave.

What I enjoyed most about all these gigs was how awesome it was to see Grant realize his potential. I firmly believe that, had he been able to dig in and own this new venture, he would have built out his resume and put himself in a position to seize new opportunities. His writing was great, this was something he really wanted to do, and it was a joy to see him so happy while doing it. In fact, at the time of his first craniotomy in January 2017, he was booked for another show. When he notified MC he wouldn’t be able to fulfill that commitment, his editor replied with how much he enjoyed working with Grant, and how sorry he was Grant wouldn’t be able to continue. I always hoped he would go back to it, but he didn’t feel comfortable with his ability to remember enough words to write well. And, he was concerned he’d be tired and wouldn’t have the energy left to be present both for his full-time job and for Wyatt and Naomi. That was Grant - he always prioritized others before himself.

Here’s the articles he wrote - if the links are broken, google ‘Grant Stoner Music Connection’ and you’ll see his listing as an Author at Music Connection. The last one was the Mr. Airplane Man show on January 13, 2017. Ten days later I took him to the ER and they found the tumors. I look at this list and feel so blessed I was able to experience these moments with him - I just wish we had more of them. I like to read his work and remember how much fun it was for me to be the writer’s girlfriend, along for the ride.

January 13, 2017: Live Review: Mr. Airplane Man at Cafe NELA in Los Angeles, CA

November 28, 2016: Live Review: People's Blues of Richmond at Echoplex in Los Angeles, CA

August 30, 2016: Live Review: Blind Lemon Peel All-Stars at Rusty's Surf Ranch in Santa Monica, CA

July 28, 2016: Signing Story: The Dead Ships

May 26, 2016: Live Review: The Running Jumps at Cody's VivaCantina in Burbank, CA

April 29, 2016: Signing Story: MAKUTA

March 15, 2016: Signing Story: Sunflower Bean

February 23, 2016: Live Review: The Phil Celia Band at Room 5 in Los Angeles, CA

February 15, 2016: Live Reviews: Socionic at the Viper Room in West Hollywood, CA

November 10, 2015: Live Review: Becca Moore at Molly Malone's in Los Angeles, CA

October 6, 2015: Live Review: The Terpsichords at Cafe Fais Do Do

September 4, 2015: Live Review: The Dennis Dreith Band at the Catalina Bar & Grill

August 11, 2015: Live Review: Ghost Lit Kingdom at Viper Room

[1000wordresearchreport]

Reply From Draw With Jazza

I did get a reply form jazzy but he said he get some many replies everyday he cant answer them all. he have given me a list of question that he gets asked the most and his replies to them, they are what I'm looking for in this chapter but they will be very usefully throughout the rest of my report 

Dear Student,

I really like to support students and used to be able to answer interview and survey questions but unfortunately I get so many requests for responses along with my normal emails that I am unable to assist any more on an individual basis. I have created a list of past questions and responses which I will send you and I hope they may be of some assistance to your research. Apologies for the generic answer but I get hundreds of emails every day and time constraints make individual interviews impossible. I realise that your questions may not be answered by these documents but this is the best I can do to try and help in some way. Also here is a link to an online interview I did http://www.federationstory.com/drawing-has-never-been-so-interactive/   and I have linked in the questions below to a few autobiographical and relevant videos on my channel. All the best with your project!

Jazza

1. What was the first Job you ever had? Target as a checkout assistant

2. Did you always want to be an artist/animator? Yes- although not specifically animator sometimes I wanted to be a director, sometimes a musician

3. Was there a turning point in your career? Moving away from game design and starting the YouTube channel

4. Did you have a mentor or someone that inspired you? Christopher Hart when I was young. Also Adam Phillips.

5.You’ve got a large following on YouTube but how did you start out? and did you ever think you would have such a large following? Have a look at this video https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MNDY6FWGgmE No I never thought it would get this big but now I find my goals increasing all the time

6. A)  Are you surprised that your making a living from Youtube? and not only you but so many other people?    B)  Do you find that your channel on Youtube allows you to make a comfortable living? People who make a living from Youtube often don’t make it from ad revenue but have to find other ways to support themselves. I have a shop that sells digital art products and that allows me to be a professional Youtuber/Artist and this is a really important support to my channel. I used to take pretty much any freelance work I could get in the beginning- as another way to earn a living, although now I find I have less time for freelance. I am an author and have my first book (on Character Design) commercially published at the end of the year, as well as contributing to other publications. I do still take on occasional freelance but mostly larger commercial projects

7. What do you feel makes you different from other artist on YouTube? That I put my face and personality in my channel a lot. I try and have a community and be informative as well as fun, spontaneous and entertaining.

8. What do you wish you had known before you starting uploading videos to youtube? Be careful how much work to set myself. I tend to underestimate the time it takes to do things and take on too much.

9. Is there anything you dislike about the platform (YouTube)? I wish it was easier to report stolen content.

10. Tell me about your process from idea to implementation? I come up with a lesson plan or script, then I film/record, then I do a rough edit and beyond that I add assets such as video footage or images, finally I polish the edit, render and upload

11. Do you use social media as part of your strategy? Yes I use Twtich, Facebook, Twitter

12. What are some of your biggest achievements? Building a large audience, collaborating with reputable companies, Interviewing talented artists, writing a hard copy book soon to be published in the US and a grant which you know about from Screen Australia and Google

13. What does a typical week in your life look like? Up at between 6-7am, off to the office where the magic happens. I have a schedule planned out about a month ahead which involves the days I am recording and the days I am working on supplementary projects. I don’t finish until 6pm usually, then I try and get to the gym and see baby Jazza.

14. Would you say creative block is an obstacle for you? if so how do you overcome that? Long answer-This should help answer your question: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lh17KFLbuEE https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BqzFpUbbhuc

15. Do you have much time to work on personal projects? NO NO NO, I wish I had more time, …. I try and work on things I love and also that work for my business

16. What are some of you favourite tools and software that you use?

I use Adobe Flash (now Animate CC) for my animations, which is good in that it can be used to create interactive mediums like games/apps as well as animations. ToonBoom is an animation specific program that is quite popular, and though I have not used it very much I plan to do more work with it in the future.  I use Adobe Photoshop for my Digital Paintings and image editing.. I use a Wacom 24 HD which is a high end LCD tablet for professional use. I talk a bit about tablets here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1pqmDjGQmJA

17. Do you get much work outside of your channel? Yes but most of my work comes initially from my channel or from my website but usually from my reputation that is mainly built through the channel.

18. Have you ever turned away work? If yes why? All the time- pretty much every day. The reasons are usually a combination of: 1) Unrealistic budget expectations (want me to work for free or almost free) 2) Unrealistic project expectations (feature film/music video) with little understanding of the amount of work involved 3) Strange project that I do not like or I consider inappropriate (I won’t work on obscene or adult content) 4) I am already booked up (which I am for at least 10-12 months usually)

19. What do you like to do in your spare time if you get any? I enjoy a game of Dota, some nerdy role playing with mates, spending time with baby Jazza and my wife.

20. What advise would you give to someone trying to start their own channel? Work hard, be consistent, have integrity, release what you consider to be quality content

21. Pepsi or Coke?

Coke

22. How did you go about getting into the industry? -Did you have connections or was it a case of putting your work out there as much as possible? I draw constantly- then became professional through YouTube: Have a look at this video- basically I kept putting my work out there, Newgrounds and obviously YouTube  helped a lot with this. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MNDY6FWGgmE

23. What advice would you give to a young animator trying to get into the industry? Becoming a professional animator is not an easy road. There is no one way or sure fire path to success but one thing that you must adhere to is hard work. People who treat it like a profession even when they aren't being paid and try consistently, taking every opportunity to improve their skills, have the best chance of success. Remember it takes doctors and lawyers 6-8 years of daily study and it’s the same with art and animation. Keep practicing, put yourself out there in the animation community and be determined (and a bit thick skinned)

24. Do you prefer working as an independent freelance animator or as a professional at a studio? - Why do you prefer (whichever you prefer)? I have never worked for a studio, just run my own. I have toured some as I may need to set up larger one day and have been interested in how the larger studios work, but I don’t think I would enjoy animating one particular segment repeatedly. I like being part of  the whole creative picture.

25. How did you find the transition from aspiring animator to professional? -Did you face any problems you hadn't anticipated? I had to get a handle on the business and legal side and it is not my strong point. Copyright releases and IP contracts, terms and conditions, deposits- now my wife handles most of that end which is a relief.

26. There has been some speculation that CGI is leading the way for animation and that 2D will become irrelevant. What are your personal opinions on this? No I don't think 2 D will become irrelevant. I think new tools will make producing animations more accessible though.

How did you first get started with art? Have you always been into drawing? I have always been in to drawing (since I can remember)! Art has been my escape, my way to tell stories and create characters since I was a child. I was sometimes quite lonely at school and I was bullied a bit when I started high school, so at lunchtimes (and even during class I admit) I would often sit by myself and draw.

How old were you when you first made the transition into digital art? About 12 years old when I started playing around with early versions of Photoshop and Flash, I got my first tablet at 13.

How have things changed since then in terms of technology? When digital art emerged as an option I knew I wanted to jump on board. I got my first tablet and didn't look back. Obviously since then software and tools have come a long way! However right now things are moving on again and I am so excited because on the channel I have just begun to create 3D art in virtual reality. It's an exciting time! There will be more development in the software and tools for VR art (in the same way as there was with digital art) and no doubt that this is just the beginning.

When did you realise you’d be able to draw for a living? I had dreamed of writing a 'How To Draw' book since the age of 12, but it's not until recently that I have been able to make a stable living in the art world. I began to feel confident about making an OK wage about 3 years ago, when I began to get some reasonable freelance jobs, mainly as an animator rather than solely an artist. It wasn't stable but it was suddenly paying the bills. The problem was animation is very slow work and there was only one of me, so it was always going to be limiting in terms of making a stable wage. I had to convince my wife that it was worth turning down freelance on occasion to keep focusing on my YouTube channel, where I could see building a reputation and better potential for growth than one person animation. The YouTube channel eventually brought the offer of my first published book 'Draw With Jazza- Creating Characters' and even a children's television art show.

How did you get started with your YouTube channel? Before YouTube I used to work as a Freelance Flash Game Designer, but the Flash Game market was taking a nose dive. I had already started doing little art tutorials on YouTube, at first on a channel that contained a mixture of stuff (music etc), because I am usually working on creative projects of my own, but I noticed the art tutorials were quite popular. That is when I decided to start Draw With Jazza and see if it would grow into anything. It was lucky I did, as earning money in the Flash Game market was getting more and more difficult, Draw With Jazza began to grow and gave me the next direction in my career just in time, as I could no longer support myself with Game Design.

How quickly did success come there? You could say both quickly and slowly! I think a lot of people who start a YouTube channel want to see automatic viral videos, the reality is it take a lot of channels years to build an audience (it did mine) and the ones with the initial viral hits often don't go on to be long term successes.  My channel definitely wasn't viral and it took a few years to get momentum, but then it grew quickly. In total I have been on YouTube for about 4 years and after year 1 I had about 5,000 subs, it took 3 years to reach 100,000, now at the beginning of my 5th year I will hit the 1 million mark and I am so excited about that.

What do you think is your secret, and how do you keep things fresh? I love art and I make content that I would be interested in watching. Although I pay a bit of attention to what is popular, popularity is not the main driver for my content choices, as I feel when you do that  the content gets 'fake' and lacks quality. I really believe in making videos that I have enjoyed making and I hope the fact that I believe in what I am doing, comes across! It's not just about art, but also about showing your personality and letting people in. I definitely only do what I believe in. I'm not saying every video is perfect! Every now and again I make a video and I think 'that didn't turn out so well', and sometimes I still have to release it, as doing three videos a week doesn't leave me much room for error. Ironically sometimes the ones I'm not so proud of are really popular videos. You have to be willing to put yourself out there warts and all. My art challenges (left hand drawing, blindfold etc) don't show my best art (that's for sure) but they are very fun to make and popular content.

What would be your advice or top tips for anyone looking to get started in digital art? The same as my advice for any beginner artist, practise, work hard and don't be too tough on yourself. I think most people expect to be good quickly, or maybe when you look at developed artists they make it look easy and then you compare yourself to that. It took good artists, not hours, but years and years of practise. You need perseverance and patience with yourself.

Are there any mobile/tablet apps you’d recommend people should use for drawing on the go, and why? There is Photoshop Sketch and an Illustrator equivalent but I forget what it's called. I personally work a lot on the go but I run Photoshop off my Windows Tablet, that is capable of running the full program. A lot of people like using Sketchbook.

What would a good beginner’s setup be? For digital art you need a descent tablet of some sort, and it doesn't need to be expensive, but get one made for art. You can get started with a basic Huion or Wacom tablet (even picking up one second hand from ebay if necessary). The tablet will need a PC or Laptop with Photoshop or similar on it. There are way more expensive 'tablets' that aren't really made for art and won't give you the same results as a cheaper option, made with artists in mind.