#originally I planed for this prompt to be something from Expensive Mistakes

[greenheartart]

Day 22 - Trail

Just a nice Rus, out on a walk.

[wildandsexyjacks]

Mocktails & (Not So) Useless Company Parties

Seungyoun + #11 from this holiday prompt list

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: alcohol consumption

You love your job, you tell yourself over and over again, looking at your own reflection in the mirror of the ladies room. You do what you’ve always wanted to do, what you’re good at, what makes you happy. It pays extremely well too, so really no complaints there either. The real problem is your boss. The old cranky son of a bitch has no life of his own and for some reason, he believes you don’t need one too, which is why he’s making you stay in town for Christmas when in fact you should be back at home eating your mom’s cookies and drinking hot cocoa with tons of marshmallows.

This stupid event is not even that big of a deal, to be honest. It’s just a boring business award ceremony, filled with fancy-dressed people from the entertainment industry drinking mocktails (mocktails!!) and bragging about their achievements this year and YOU are what your boss has to brag about right now. You know your cooking show’s been pretty popular lately, with a lot of celebrities wanting to join in as guests and its rating points only going up every week, so it was obvious he’d want to show you off... But it’s Christmas. Your favorite holiday and you’re spending it in an expensive designer dress with uncomfortable heels, looking pretty and greeting people who don’t give one real fuck about your show or the story behind it, only its numbers.

While you stare in the mirror and hate everything, the giggly pair of girls who got in the bathroom right before you come out of their stalls, so you smile and wait for them to wash their hands and leave. As soon as they close the door, you take a silver flask from where you previously stashed it under the sink and pour it in your drink. After taking a sip, you put the flask back in it’s hiding spot and fix your hair one last time before exiting.

The moment Mr. Yang - executive producer of your show and close friends with the company CEO - said you’d be his date for the year-end events it became obvious you couldn’t be sober for this. However, the CEO’s wish to hold the party at his wife’s art gallery and the fact that she abominated alcohol had you mastering a plan to do it under everyone’s nose.

It was all going very well up until your third visit to the bathroom for refills. Someone storms inside without warning and catches you red-handed.

“Oh, sorry, this isn’t the-.” the guy frowns “Are you okay?”

It’s when you realize you’re probably a bit tipsier than originally intended. You look from him to the mirror again, taking in your reflection one more time: shoes discarded on the floor, flushed cheeks.... you’re obviously looking at least somewhat drunk. With your glass set on the sink and the open flask in your hands, there’s no point in trying to pretend this isn’t exactly what it looks like, so you just mumble a yeah and resume spiking your drink.

His brows furrow even more.

“Don’t you think this is a bit too...? Um, okay.” The man moves forward, grabs your arm and takes the flask from you, then smells it and instantly makes a face “Woah... Would you like some eggnog with your rum?”

You look him dead in the eye.

“This is the ladies’ room.”

“Well, I admit to my mistake.” He closes the flask, and puts it into the inner pocket of his blazer “But you don’t look too good right now so is there something I can help you with before I leave? It’s Y/N, right? You’re representing tvN so we’re both under CJ and it’d be bad form to leave you like this... I also happen to really like your show, even tried the pear risotto at home and no one died after eating.” You laugh, and he smiles, seemingly taking pride in that “Seriously, I’m a big fan.”

That’s funny because you’re looking at the Cho Seungyoun, a.k.a WOODZ, hip-hop and r&b star and variety show king. He looks ridiculously handsome in an all-black suit with his hair pushed back, which makes you vaguely embarrassed of your current state so you try to discreetly fix your appearance.

“You look beautiful, don’t worry, that’s not what I meant.” he leans against the marble sink and crosses his arms in front of his chest “What’s the matter? I mean why are you sneaking booze into a company event?”

You roll your eyes and mirror his posture, sighing.

“I don’t know what I’m doing here, my boss won’t even let me promote my show. I’m only allowed to greet people and smile while he does all the talking. This is so stupid, I should be on a plane to Toronto right now but I’m in this useless party wasting my time instead.”

Seungyoun rubs his chin, pondering his next move. After a while, he nods to himself and glances at you, arching an eyebrow.

“I can’t send you to Toronto but maybe I could help fix the other issue. How quickly can you sober up?” You shrug and bend down to put your shoes back on while he downs your drink, grimacing at the taste “Ugh, awful.” 

You laugh again while checking your make-up, then wash your hands and hold onto the arm he’s offering so you can both exit the bathroom.

And for the next couple of hours, Seungyoun does the absolute most, introducing you to everyone he knows and talking about your show with enthusiasm. He wasn’t lying when he said he was a fan, you notice. He talks in detail about the dishes and the guests from previous episodes and seems truly interested in what you have in store for the next season when you explain it to higher-ups from other CJ subsidiaries. 

It’s a blessing Seungyoun be so charismatic and funny because everyone is too busy falling in love with him to pay attention to the way you lean on him for balance and laugh just a little too much. By the time they start handing out the awards, you’re sober enough to go up on stage with Mr. Yang, who gives a quick speech thanking you and the staff - and you do the same. After that, you’re free for the rest of the night and Seungyoun makes good use of that, tapping your boss on the shoulder as soon as you get up from your seats when the ceremony ends.

“Excuse me, sir, can I borrow her for a moment?”

Busy talking to other executives, Mr. Yang waves his hand, barely looking at him, and you take that as a yes.

“Thanks for saving me.” you say as he offers his arm once again “I had a lot of fun tonight.”

“Don’t mention it. I know it’s hard to believe but I’m actually kind of shy so it was nice to have your company.” he pats your arm, glancing at you “Have you seen the paintings here? They’re pretty awesome.”

You shake your head no, so he takes you to the first open room he can find. The sign by the door says the exhibition is called FLOWERS ON A RIVER, a series of gongbi flower and bird paintings by a chinese artist named Chen Zhifo.

When you go inside, there’s no one else there, the guest using up all their time for networking instead of art appreciation. Seungyoun drags you to study a very long line of flower paintings hanging on the wall, reading their titles and descriptions out loud and making funny comments about the birds.

“You know,” he starts when you reach the last painting “I’ve never been invited to guest on your show even though we’re from the same company...”

He glances quickly at you, pouting and blinking several times, and it makes you laugh. Yes, you both come from sister companies but no one could call that a real connection. Not to mention you didn’t even know he could cook before earlier tonight, anyway.

“My boss picks the guests.” you shrug. “Sorry.”

“I see. Well then maybe I could cook you dinner at my place, say, later this week... and you could put in a good word for me with your boss or something...”

You look up at him, surprised. Maybe you’re still a little drunk, but you muster up the courage to take a step closer and ask him what’s on your mind.

“Are you trying to buy your way into my show or ask me on a date, Seungyoun?”

“Oh, I don’t care, whatever helps me see you again the fastest.” he leans down a little, bringing his face closer to yours while staring at your lips “Which one do you prefer?”

“I think right now I’m gonna go with the date and we can talk about work later.” you decide, wrapping your arms around his neck and standing on your tiptoes to meet him halfway for a kiss.

“Ho ho ho.” Seungyoun mumbles, smiling against your lips.

It’s Christmas and you’re in a stupid useless party, but now you don’t regret it anymore.

-

it’s still christmas where i live so..... happy holidays everyone 💜

also i’m a time management disaster so i missed seungwoo’s birthday because when do i finish anything on time right? but i WILL have the next ysay chapter finished before the weekend so wooseungdans stay tuned xx

[gadgetgirl71]

Top Ten Tuesday 23 February 2021

Welcome to this weeks Top Ten Tuesday. Originally created by The Broke & The Bookish, which is now hosted by Jana @ That Artsy Reader Girl. Each week it features a book or literary themed category. This weeks prompt is:

Books That Made Me Laugh Out Loud

(Claire @ Book Lovers Pizza)

Rachel’s Holiday 

Synopsis: Here’s Rachel Walsh, twenty-seven and the miserable owner of size 8 feet. She has regular congress with Luke Costello, a man who wears his leather trousers tight. And she’s fond – some might say too fond – of recreational drugs. Until she finds herself being frogmarched to the Cloisters – Dublin’s answer to the Betty Ford Clinic. She’s outraged. Surely she’s not thin enough to be an addict? Heartsick and Luke-sick, she seeks redemption in the shape of Chris, a Man with a Past. A man who might be more trouble than he’s worth.

Can You Keep a Secret?

Synopsis: Emma is like every girl in the world. She has a few little secrets.

Secrets from her mother: 1. I lost my virginity in the spare bedroom to Danny Nussbaum while Mum and Dad were downstairs watching Ben Hur.

…From her boyfriend: 2. I’m a size twelve. Not a size eight, like Connor thinks. 3. I’ve always thought Connor looks a bit like Ken. As in Barbie and Ken.

…From her colleagues: 4. When Artemis really annoys me, I feed her plant orange juice. (Which is pretty much every day) 5. It was me who jammed the copier that time. In fact, all the times.

…Secrets she wouldn’t share with anyone in the world: 6. My G string is hurting me. 7. I faked my Maths GCSE grade on my CV. 8. I have no idea what NATO stands for. Or even what it is…

…until she spills them all to a stranger on a plane. At least, she thought he was a stranger…

Get You Kit Off

Synopsis: Formerly Sex, Lies & Llamas From the author of the Number 1 bestseller – No Bra Required & Guess Who I Pulled Last Night? I’ve read Nikki’s previous books and loved them so I was expecting great things from her again. Guess what? She’s delivered!! The combination of humour, thrills and classic girl might- or might not-get her man is a real winner. If chick-lit is your thing Nikki is the author you need to read. Just brilliant!! – Amazon Reviewer WOW!! I loved this book. I have to be honest and say I put off reading it after I’d bought it, I loved the other 2 books by this author but football is not my thing and I thought the football theme running through it may have spoilt it for me … how wrong was I !! I can’t recommend this book or this author highly enough, I couldn’t put my Kindle down – can’t wait for more stuff from Nikki Ashton!!! – Amazon Reviewer Molly Pearson doesn’t have children, but as the Player Liaison Manager for a premiership football club, she does have twenty-two professional footballers and one jealous fiance to take care of – which as far as she can see is quite similar. With having to deal with problems from players buying zoo animals as pets, to losing their false teeth and a whole lot more, Molly can’t wait for the season to end. But, her life becomes even more complicated, when the man who broke her heart six years earlier, comes back into her life. Hail the returning hero, Joe Bennett, now one of the best footballers in the world and the club’s most expensive signing. Every woman wants him, every man wants to be him, and he’s returned for one reason only – he wants Molly back. With engaging characters, Sex, Lies & Llamas, is a humorous, yet sometimes sad romance depicting the difficulty in always doing the right thing, especially when love is involved.

Someone Else’s Fairytale

Synopsis: Jason Vanderholt, Hollywood’s hottest actor, falls head over heels for every girl, Chloe Winters, who hasn’t gotten around to watching most of his movies. It’s the ideal fairytale… for most people. The last thing Chloe needs is public attention. It brings back dangers from the past that she’s worked her whole life to escape.

The Single Girl’s To-Do List

Synopsis: Rachel Summers loves a to-do list: • Boyfriend • Flat • Great job

NOT on the list: • Being dumped

Best friends Emelie and Matthew ride to her rescue with an entirely new kind of list – The Single Girl’s To-Do List. Rachel doesn’t know it, but it will take her on all kinds of wild adventures – and get her in some romantic pickles too. And then it won’t be a case of what but who she decides to tick off…

• Mr. bendy yoga instructor • Mr. teenage sweetheart • Mr. persistent ex • Mr. deeply unsuitable

The Single Girl’s To-Do List gives Rachel the perfect heartbreak cure – and proves love is out there if you’re willing to take a chance.

Wedding Tiers

Synopsis: The path of true love never runs smooth. But for some, it’s one seriously bumpy ride! A heartwarming new romantic comedy from the bestselling author of A WINTER’S TALE. Growing up in the beautiful Lancashire village of Neatslake, Josie Gray and her childhood sweetheart, Ben Richards, always dreamt of living a life of rural bliss. And when Josie inherits her beloved Grandmother’s cottage, it seems they might just have got what they wished for. Josie throws herself into her wedding cake business, whilst Ben gains increasing acclaim as an artist. But the tranquil village turns into a hive of activity when Josie’s childhood friend, Libby Martin – now a wealthy widow – returns to the village, planning a lavish wedding to rival any celeb bash. The day goes with a bang, and soon Libby and Josie are hard at work at their fledgling wedding business, hiring out Libby’s beautiful Elizabethan home for ceremonies, with Josie creating all manner of wonderful cakes. But amidst all this romance, Josie’s fairytale relationship with Ben turns into a nightmare, and she quickly becomes Love’s number one cynic – until charming wedding photographer Noah Sephton arrives in Neatslake with a very different outlook on love! Can this hopeless romantic persuade pessimistic Josie to give romance another try? Or will it be a case of always the cake maker, never the bride!? A charming, witty and feelgood novel, ideal for fans of Katie Fforde and Harriet Evans.

The Bette Davis Club

Synopsis: The morning of her niece’s wedding, Margo Just drinks a double martini and contemplates the many mistakes she’s made in her fifty-odd years of life. Spending three decades in love with a wonderful but unattainable man is pretty high up on her list of missteps, as is a long line of unsuccessful love affairs accompanied by a seemingly endless supply of delicious cocktails.

When the young bride flees—taking with her a family heirloom and leaving behind six hundred bewildered guests—her mother offers Margo fifty grand to retrieve her spoiled brat of a daughter and the invaluable property she stole. So, together with the bride’s jilted and justifiably crabby fiancé, Margo sets out in a borrowed 1955 red MG on a cross-country chase. Along the way, none of what she discovers will be quite what she expected. But it might be exactly what she’s been seeking all along.

From acclaimed humor writer Jane Lotter comes this madcap, laugh-out-loud adventure, The Bette Davis Club.

Revised edition: This edition of The Bette Davis Club includes editorial revisions.

13 Dates

Synopsis: When Noah Wilson first encounters the quirky, opinionated and very beautiful Angel Fallon, his world is turned upside down. It’s clear she’s not his normal type, but Noah can’t stop thinking about her—which doesn’t bode well for the blind date he’s already late for.

Convinced by his friend (and self-professed dating expert) Marlon that thirteen dates is all you need to fall in love, Noah decides to give it a try with Angel. They should be incompatible: she’s impulsive and he’s a planner; he wants to settle down and she doesn’t ‘do’ relationships—or anything, for that matter—the way Noah is used to. But there’s something about Angel, and Noah can’t shake the idea that all they need is twelve more dates.

Despite some near-disasters involving rock climbing, saddle sores and jellied eels, it seems his plan may actually work. But even if they do reach the magic number, can that really mean they’ll just fall into their happily-ever-after?

The Shelf

Synopsis: Everyone in Amy’s life seems to be getting married (or so Instagram tells her), and she feels like she’s falling behind.

So, when her boyfriend surprises her with a dream holiday to a mystery destination, she thinks this is it – he’s going to finally pop the Big Question. But the dream turns into a nightmare when she finds herself on the set of a Big Brother-style reality television show, The Shelf.

Along with five other women, Amy is dumped live on TV and must compete in a series of humiliating and obnoxious tasks in the hope of being crowned ‘The Keeper’. Will Amy’s time on the show make her realise there are worse things in life than being left on the shelf?

A funny, feminist and all-too-relatable novel about our obsession with coupling up, settling down and the battle we all have with accepting ourselves, The Shelf introduces the freshest new voice in women’s fiction.

The Wish List

Synopsis: Be careful what you wish for… Florence Fairfax isn’t lonely. She loves her job at the little bookshop in Chelsea and her cat, Marmalade, keeps her company at night. But everything changes when her stepsister, Mia, announces that she’s engaged to her boring golf-playing boyfriend. That’s when Florence meets Irish love coach, Gwendolyn. …because you just might get it! When Gwendolyn makes Florence write a wish list describing her perfect man, Florence refuses to take it seriously. Finding someone who likes cats, doesn’t wear pointy shoes and can overlook her ‘counting habit’? Impossible! Until, later that week, a handsome blond man asks for help in the bookshop… But is Rory the one, or is he simply too good to be true? Florence is about to find out that her criteria for finding Mr Right aren’t as important as she thought – and that perhaps her perfect man has been right there all along…

Until next week.

#JustForFun, #Top Ten Tuesday, #TopTenTuesday, #TTT

[we-are-guildmaster]

Original Story: Dreamer

I like to write in my spare time and I’ve decided to share a little of it here when the mood strikes me. Below is the first part of a story I’ve been working on for a while, I got off to a good start then stalled a bit. I hope you enjoy.

It’s 6:32 am on a Sunday and I was woken up by a Dream. I don’t Dream often anymore, I find as I get older my nights are filled with normal dreams. But tonight I had a Dream. It was of the get together of course, it almost always is. Normally, I would roll over and go back to sleep. But this early morning I received a text.

Prepare to report.

That’s all the text says, and it’s from a number I’ve never seen before. But I know the message is for me, and that there is so much more to it.

The hunt went wrong this year.

Let me tell you a story. On a small farm some where deep in the countryside lives a family, we’ll call them the Johnson family. The Johnson farm is in a remote part of the country and is far from just about anything. It doesn’t produce much, a little of this, a little of that. But each year the Johnson Family farm plays host to a get together.

People from all walks of life come out. They drive for hours, fly, bus, take trains, or do what ever it takes to get there. Most years it’s a different group of people, rarely the same person twice. They show up on what ever day they are suppose to, great the Johnsons with familiarity, even if they have never met before. They are welcomed in and treated as old dear friends. Each person, never more that 13 in total, sometimes as few as two, leaves their donation on the hall table as they arrive, a cashier’s check for $100,000 U.S. funds. Dad Johnson collects the checks in the morning and deposits them in the bank.

The rules are simple. On this one night a year, you don’t go outside, you don’t invite your friends over, you forget the world outside your bed room door even exists. You stay inside. Because this is the night the monsters come out.

Simple back ground, in nature there are predators, the best ones look like something other than what they are. Insects especially are good at this trick. They can look like sticks, or leaves, or chunks of wood, but when the time is right their true colors show through.

Now that that idea to the next level, there are predators who hunt humans as prey, their trick? They look like us. A mistake most people make is thinking that these things are, or were human. They aren’t and never were. They just wear our look to fit in and bide their time. The good news is that just like every other predator-prey relation ship, there are a lot more of us than there are of them.

The ones that are good at what they do, you never hear about. They lead their seemingly normal lives and no one is the wiser. People on the fringe of society near them just disappear from time to time, old folks in nursing homes who have no next of kin, homeless people on their last leg with nothing left to loose, you get the idea.

The ones that are not so good, well, you read about them in the paper and their names are hard to forget. Gacey. Daumer. Bundy. They have the monster equivalent of an eating disorder.

To keep from being wiped out wholesale the monsters have what are essentially game wardens. They monitor the heard and let the other predators know which members of the heard can be picked off safely, when, and how. The world is divided up into 13 regions, and each region has a warden.

Each year, if a warden is having a problem with one of his monsters, he comes to the Johnson farm on the right day and meets with other wardens who are also having problems. They trade information about their problem children, decide on a course of action, and then seal the pact with a traditional hunt.

And what do they hunt you may ask with dread in your voice? One of us of course. Not one of the dregs this time, not this night. When you are sealing the deal, it’s a full on prime specimen. An athlete, a career violent offender, a military special forces operative, someone who actually has a fighting chance. They hunt them, kill them, and feast on the body. The next day Dad Johnson goes out with the tractor, digs a very deep hole, and drops what little remains in and buries it.

But this year there was a problem. This year dinner didn’t go down quietly. And now here I am on a Sunday trying to rub the sleep from my eyes and waiting for the next phone call.

You might be thinking, this guy must be one of the wardens, after all he knows so much. Or maybe he’s just one of the monsters, a silent hunter who has a guilty streak and wants to share his story. Unfortunately wrong on both counts. I am one of the few humans who is born with the ability to Dream. Capital D.

When you go to sleep, your brain takes the miss matched chunks of information, throws them into a blender, and spills them back out across the inside of your eyelids as dreams. Little d. There is no real rhyme or reason to them, it’s just a random bunch of crap your mind puts out there for you to unwind.

When I, or some one like me, which is about 1 in a 10 million people, go to sleep we normally get what you get, dreams. But sometimes, when it’s important, we Dream.

Look at it like this. Jim and Frank get into a fight and they both get arrested. Jim says Frank started it, Frank says Jim started it and no one can figure out what really happened. Jim’s story paints Frank as the bad guy, Frank’s story paints Jim as the bad guy, and both of them believe in their hearts that they are telling the truth. Now in most cases there isn’t much you can do. A judge will listen to both sides and decide what’s what and hand down his verdict. Who ever is ruled against feels cheated and it’s fairly inefficient.

But let’s change it up a bit, let’s say that there was a video camera hidden where Jim and Frank were and caught the whole thing. Now the judge has a blow by blow accounting from an unbiased source. Things become a lot easier for all involved. Those of us who Dream, we’re the video cameras, and we only video tape monsters.

No one knows why we can Dream. Even the really old monsters can’t remember a time when there weren’t Dreamers. But every monster knows we’re out here, and every monster knows that if something big goes down, a Dreamer is going to see it. So from time to time we get asked to come in and tell the higher up monsters what went down so they can keep the rest of the beasties in line. The rules concerning Dreamers are simple. We come when called, answer truthfully and completely, and we stay off the menu, that’s it.

Now why would we be on the menu in the first place you ask? A good question. You see Dreaming take a lot out of you. It’s kind of all we’re good at and built for and it takes up most of the resources out bodies produce. So your average Dreamer is sickly, and dysfunctional in a big way. People on the fringe of society, old folks in nursing homes who have no next of kin, homeless people on their last leg with nothing left to loose, you get the idea. Prey.

Me, I’m one of the really lucky ones, a high functioning Dreamer. I’m confined to a wheelchair, barely able to make it from chair to bed on my own, but completely together in the mental department. That makes me a valuable tool for monster society.

The phone rings, it is 7:04. They must be really on the ball this time, usually takes then over an hour to get to me on the list. As tempted as I am to let it ring I answer on the second tone. “Did you Dream?” the voice on the other end is raspy, and impatient.

“Yes.” I try to hid the fear in my voice, but I know he can hear it.

“We’ll send the van. Be ready in an hour, pack a bag.”

“I’ll be ready.”  Pack a bag. That’s a new one. I slowly transfer into my chair and begin my morning ritual, bathroom, hair, clothes, meds, pack the bag. That’s what life boils down to in the end. Rituals. What we do when we go into auto pilot, the things that pass the time between. I finish up and check the clock,7:49. They’ll be here soon.

8:02, a sharp knock on my door, prompt as always. I roll over to the door, place my bag on my lap, and open it. Big guy this time, serious looking, smells of expensive smoke and leather. “You are prepared?” his voice is deep like distant thunder.

“I am.”

“Then we go.” I roll into the hall and lock my apartment door. He takes the handles and moves me down the hall at a study pace. I use to wonder what they were under the skin. I gave that up after a few visits. Monsters don’t like people asking questions. Besides, it’s better that I don’t know. I have nightmares enough with out seeing the naked truth.

We exit the building and he rolls me over to the van, the ramp is already down with the engine running. I’m the only passenger. No surprise there. We make good time to the airport, no small talk, no radio, just driving and my own thoughts. We bypass security with the wave of some credentials, probably fake. A private jet is waiting for us on a back runway. A tall slim woman in a tan suit is waiting by the stairs to the jet. The big guy lifts me out of my chair and loads me into one of the front seats with out a word.

The lady suit and the big guy board and he closes the hatch behind them. She taps the pilot’s door and says, “We’re ready.” I hear some chatter from behind the door and the cabin starts to pressurize. She sits down across from me, “Are you comfortable? Do you need anything?” She has a soft voice with a hard edge, like a razor covered in velvet.

“A glass of juice would be great.” I answer. She waves a hand to big guy, and he pulls open a mini bar and pours me an apple juice. As he does that I look around the plane, nice interior, plush carpets, leather seats with work stations tucked into the sides.

She points to the big guy as he hands me the glass. “Anthony will be your escort. I am Ms. Landers. Our flight is international, do you have your passport?” I nod and pat my bag. “Good. It’s always nice to work with someone who is efficient.” She pulls some papers from a side pocket of her chair. “Have you ever met the Council before?”

The Council. Shit. I try to keep my voice calm and study, no need to tempt fate by appearing any weaker then normal, “No ma’am. I always report to my local handler and he relays to his superiors.” Shit, shit, shit. This is really bad. The Council never sees Dreamers. There are always intermediaries. One of the game wardens must have been important.

“If I may ask ma’am, why am I meeting the Council? My reports have always been factual and prompt when requested.”

A sly grin passes her lips, the kind that makes you think of a fox in a hen house, or a snake in the grass. “Indeed they have been. In fact that is the primary reason you are being selected. The Council has recently…” She pauses as if looking for words, “come under new leadership, and they wish to meet such a valuable asset as yourself.” She leafs through the papers, a bare glimmer of amusement wrinkles the corners of her mouth. “The First Lord wishes to have a better grasp of events than what was being offered through the local handlers.”

A new First Lord, new Council members, could mean a shakeup in the whole monster rank structure. I sip my apple juice slowly, trying to figure out if I am being called to my last report. Anthony sits across from me, his big frame causing the leather of the seat to squeak as is settles under his weight. Ms. Landers hands him a several pieces of paper. “Your travel papers.” He glances over them and slides them into his inside pocket. “Make yourself comfortable, it’s a 7 hour flight. If you need any of your needs met, Anthony is a skilled nurse provider.” Her tone tells me that the conversation portion of our flight is over.

I settle into my chair and adjust my leg blankets. I close my eyes and drift in and out of sleep. Snippets of conversation between Ms. Landers and Anthony drift through my mind as I rest. They speak in a language I’ve heard before, but never learned the name of. Images of castles and dungeons pass through my worried mind, with all the dread of a child waiting for the monsters to come out of the closet.

I hear the wheel screech on the tarmac and feel the impact of the plane hitting lightly on the ground as it lands. The pilot says something in that language and we begin to slow down and taxi onto the runway towards a terminal. The sky outside is cold and grey as the plane comes to a halt we’re still well away from the terminal. The door opens with a slight hiss/ pop and the steps extend. Outside is a long black car with the rear door open.