#(( people will take very clearly unintended messages from it *and then get mad at the show for those messages* ))

[waitlifted]

(( I rewatched rent a couple of days ago (the proshot, bc eden <3) and while I didn't think anything could make me more annoyed than the brainless and nuance-free takes I see about TTS. the brainless and nuance-free takes about rent might top it. like at least TTS fandom has the defense of being aimed at a demographic without fully developed critical thinking skills ))

[cappymightwrite]

How can you not understand sansa's plot in the books? kshdhsjs dont you fucking know how to read or what? its really simple, she is not a fucking important character and you are just mad bc you know she would never be queen. thats why your little brain decided to not understand it.

You know, I think it's interesting how your insistence that I don't know how to read, I don't know Sansa's plot, etc., is packaged in this tone and language that completely reveals your own anger and frustration, your own feelings of being threatened, or innconvienced by ideas that don't adhere to your own. Bestie, how thin-skinned are you? You mention that "[I'm] just mad" because I counterintuitively don't actually believe what I profess to believe? But you're the one yelling in my inbox. And that sensitivity is further emphasised by the fact you've sent this anonymously, that shield to real accountability, where you can afford to speak rudely and condescendingly. But anon, the outcome isn't the gut punch fuck you you think it is. I didn't read this and feel cowed by your words, if anything I laughed, and then felt... almost pity because although you have the gall to send anon hate, you seemingly have no confidence in your own interpretation of the text, you're own assertion that Sansa "is not a fucking important character." Because if you did, you wouldn't behave this way, because you would have the composure and assurededness to sit back and think, well, they'll all see I'm right in the end. But you didn't do that did you? No, instead you decided cowardly anon messages that highlight your easily irritated demeanor and immaturity were the way to go.

Also, can we just for one second take a step back and analyse what this insistence that Sansa "is not a fucking important character" by (perhaps unintended) extension really suggests about GRRM as a writer? The insistence from some that she's not important, she's just a side character, she was only introduced as a foil to other characters, she'll never make it north, her arc is purely to become less vain by marrying an ugly man etc, is all deeply reliant upon a reading that only emcompasses AGOT, at best, and your own biases of what you want to be true for your faves, at worst. Because really, I think it's actually insulting to GRRM's skill as a writer to say that Sansa is a nothing character essentially, not compelling enough, not destined for any kind of influence, not going to have any impact on the wider plot etc. To that I'd say, well why is she a character then, what is her function in the story beyond just a narrow sphere of influence? And you might respond to that with, well quite, she should have been killed off books ago! But do you know what that implies about the writing as a whole? Sometimes we get so wrapped up in these characters I think we forget... they are fictional characters, someone is writing them, and within a larger, interconnected plot, and connected to a wider narrative ethos.

You're saying GRRM, an incredibly meticulous writer, has included a pov, there since book 1, that ultimately will have no great impact upon the wider story and characters, which is what a postion of power in the north would be. God, how limiting is that in terms of narrative! You talk about "little brains" but yours seemingly refuses to allow for anything that, in your own words, isn't "simple", and therefore arguably pretty reductive and quite boring. Possibly you don't care if GRRM's adeptness at character arcs and subversive writing falls away in the case of Sansa, as long as that means he writes something postive for your fave elsewhere. Which again, is a very limited approach to reading this series as a whole. Frankly, too many people read ASOIAF, yourself included anon, as separate plotlines which you can pick and choose from, dismissing those that you deem uncompelling as therefore unimportant. It's all important. Particularly those who have been POVs from the beginning.

But anyway, to conclude... I think my first in English Lit and the fact I'm on a Masters programme for a humanities subject has assured me, if I ever had a doubt, that I do in fact know how to read and understand texts, but more than that, I know how to analyse and think critically. It's you I would be concerned about anon, if I deigned to think of you at all beyond this interaction. So, go outside and touch some grass, and while you're at it, think about what impression you give off as an individual when you send anon hate like this, because I guarentee to you, it's not the content of your message that takes centre stage here... it's your own cowardice and immaturity.

Finally, a word of warning, if I get a repeat of your earlier display I will most likely delete and block. At the end of the day, despite these instances where we clearly disagree, I respect your right to think (very) differently about this book series and its characters, so be an adult, learn some accountability, and do the same.

[forever-rogue]

Unintended Consequences - Part 7

Summary: Y/N and Ben had been best friends since the day six year old Y/N dropped her ice cream in front of Ben and he had offered her his. The rest is history. Until Ben went to Hollywood and disappeared for five years, before suddenly waltzing back into Y/N’s life with one simple request.

A/N: So yeah, things escalated quickly last week, huh? Well, what’s life without a little drama after all? I Y’all were very split as to whether you were Team Ben or Team Joe. I’m curious to see it after this chapter... Anyways, thanks for reading and enjoy! Taglists are open! xx

Pairing: Ben Hardy x Reader

Word Count:  6.3k

Warnings: language, slightest bits of smut, general heartbreak and angst (but what did y’all expect??)

MASTERLIST

»»————-　　————-««

“No,” he said sternly, “you’re both fucking traitors. And I am done with both of you.”

Y/N groaned as Ben hastily retreated inside, slamming the sliding glass door shut so hard she was surprised it didn’t shatter into a million tiny shards. Chancing a glace at Joe, she saw that he had his head buried in his hands, trying to process what had just happened. She waited for him to say something, but he remained silent, the reality of the situation hitting him like a freight train.

She turned on her heel, rushing back inside to try and track down Ben; Joe was to distraught to move, so he remained there silently, not even full aware of the fact that she was leaving. 

Opening the door, she let herself inside, treading with caution over to his bedroom. The apartment was silent, almost eerily so, and she almost wished he was yelling at her instead. She could deal with a fight, a good argument always got her riled up, but she couldn’t stand the deafening silence. It was one of the most lonely and soul crushing things in the world.

Standing in front of his door, she raised her hand, debating on whether or not she should knock. There was no illumination peeking out from under his door, but she knew he was in there. Listening intently, she could hear him muttering to himself under his breath, his words slurred and incomprehensible. She pressed her knuckles gently against the door before lowering her arm.

Opting not to knock, she put her hand on the doorknob, jiggling it lightly and trying to get inside - but alas it was locked. There was some shuffling on the other side and she could hear him stumbling to the door. After a few antagonizing seconds, Ben opened the door just a hair, his tired, bloodshot eyes meeting hers.

“Go away,” he commanded, no ounce of joking or amusement evident. She stuck her hand in the doorway and tried to push it further open, but he was steadfast and refused to give into her, “I said go away. Why don’t you go and find Joe. I’m sure he can make it all better.”

“Ben,” she felt her nostrils flare with anger at his lack of willingness to even talk. He just pushed her hand away and shut the door, instantly locking it without another word. More fired up than she been before, she pounded against it, not caring about how loud she was being, “Ben Jones, you’re an absolute idiot! You can’t just run from your problems and play the victim! You’re as much a part of this as we are! Right now you’re just being a right prick.”

Once there was nothing but still silence from inside the room, she gave the door one last kick and walked away to her own room, closing the door with a low click before resting against it and slowly sinking down, warm salty tears sliding down her face. It was back to square one - yet again.

She didn’t know if she had ever experienced a more tense situation than the predicament that she found herself in now. Ben was sitting next to her - well, as far away as he could without raising any eyebrows or bringing any suspicion to their little facade. He hadn’t spoken more than a few words to her throughout the entirety of the day, sans for are you ready to go? Even those simple words were delivered in a harsh, cold tone. If he wanted to be petty and act childish, she could give it right back to him.

Now she was stuck in a limo with a bunch of people she didn’t know, a group of clout chasers she was sure. She felt silly and out of place wearing the fancy, glittering gown, sat next to Ben who was wearing a smart suit. Part of her had hoped that he would change his mind about attending this dinner gala, feigning illness or something, anything even, just to get out of it. But he had remained steadfast in attending, no doubt just to grind her gears, however Y/N refused to complain. There was no way in hell she was going to give him the satisfaction.

Joe meanwhile had left the apartment early in the morning, only providing her with a quick explanation as to his departure. I can’t be here right now, I’ve got to go, he had murmured at her, not even meeting her eyes. She had opened her mouth to say something, but by the time she had found the right words Joe was long gone. It annoyed her more than anything; he was essentially leaving her to deal with Ben on her own, not there to act as back up to try and explain the situation.

Not that it ended up making a difference; Ben had sulked in his room all day, only coming out to go to the bathroom, keeping his eyes trained on the floor. It was almost enough to make sure want to smack the two of them, both men acting like children rather than agreeing to sit down and talk things over.

“Typical,” she had muttered to herself, “typical men.”

“Y/N,” Ben’s low voice interrupted her thoughts and pulled her back into reality. She turned to him and forced a smile onto her features as she felt a few heads turn her way. He reached for her hand, and laced their fingers together, causing a jolt of electricity through her spine. It was a familiar feeling, which normally would cause butterflies to erupt in her stomach, but today it was an entirely different sensation.

“Darling,” she responded, giving his hand an unnecessarily tight squeeze. He nodded her response but quickly cooled off, not wanting to tarnish his image and start an argument then and there.

“We’re here,” he told her as he gave her a gently push towards the door. The thought of tripping him flashed through her mind, but she decided against it. She wasn’t at that petty level; not yet anyway.

“Wonderful,” she commented, lowering her voice so only he could hear her, sass running through it. He huffed at her, but followed her out of the limo, keeping an arm tightly around her waist.

They remained silent, hanging onto each other the bare minimum amount to make it look like they were interested in each other. It was all a game of acting, and if Ben could do it so effortlessly, so could she.

As soon as the cameras starting flashing, she pulled him closer and held onto him like it was her only job in life. In a lot of ways it was - quite literally. Ben was only about a beat behind, but quickly caught onto her act. He plastered on a big smile, stopping and posing for the cameras, making sure to show her off.

As annoyed, mad, and angry as he was with her, even he couldn’t deny that she looked absolutely breath taking - her dress was elegant, but there was an effortless elegance about her, like she didn’t even have to try. No matter how hard he tried to deny it, she had his heart, and he feared that he always would, even if she was falling for Joe.

Y/N still felt nervous around all the cameras, but was slowly learning to live with them. The more they were around, the more of an everyday reality they became. A small knot formed in her stomach as she trailed after Ben, letting him take the lead and the attention of the press - he was the one they came for after all.

“Ben! Ben, over here please!” the reporter’s smile stretched from ear to ear as she looked Ben up and down, clearly making eyes at him. He exchanged a quick look with Y/N before taking her by the hand and striding over to the reporter. She shook his hand, and only gave Y/N a quick nod of acknowledgment, “Ben Hardy, it’s lovely to see you this evening! Dressed sharply as usual, who are you wearing tonight?”

“Thank you, it’s an honor to have been invited tonight,” he let out a small laugh, and if Y/N didn’t know any better, he was slightly nervous. His palm started to feel sweaty in her hand, and she swore it was the tiniest bit of his old self poking through, “I’m actually wearing Tom Ford tonight, and this lovely lady is wearing Valentino.”

She had almost forgotten the ritzy origins of the pretty dress draped across her body, figure hugging in all the right ways. A few years ago she would have never even dreamed of owning anything like this, and now it was all being handed to her on demand.

“And just who is this beautiful mystery girl that we’ve all been seeing so much of lately?” she turned her sights to Y/N, who could feel her cheeks heating up under the intense scrutiny. Ben let out a small chuckle before turning to her and placing a small kiss to the side of her head.

“This is Y/N,” he smiled at the woman, “my beautiful and wonderful girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?” she questioned, and Y/N swore there was a glint of judgment and jealousy in her eyes and tone. Of course, she was envious, like most women were. Her barrage of social media messages clearly indicated that.

“Yes,” Ben tilted his head to the side and raised his eyebrow in question, “you know the old story, lifelong best friends turned lovers. It’s a pretty cliche story actually, but what can you do? True love finds a way.”

“You two are very lucky,” she was internally awing at them, mildly envious of the beautiful duo standing in front of her. She made quick work of thanking Ben for his time before turning her attention to other celebrities coming down the red carpet.

Y/N felt rooted in place, but Ben tugged on her hand, urging her to come along and not hold anyone up. Snapping back into attention, she sauntered after him, trying to put an adoring look on her face.

What she really wanted to do was to smack the smile off of his face. He had laid it on thick, extremely thick, for the reporter. It was an extremely idealized version of events; perhaps what should have happened instead of what actually transpired.

In an ideal world, yes it should have been true. But instead it was completely complicated mess that had led to more hurt feelings than anything else. She was partly to blame, and she was willing to stake her portion of that blame, even though it appeared no one else was.

As soon as they were inside, momentarily tucked away from the hustle of people, Y/N got close to Ben and nudged him harshly in the ribs. He hadn’t been expecting the gesture and let out a loud oof as he clutched his side. He opened his mouth to say something but she prevented him from talking by sharply cutting him off.

“What the hell was that?!” she hissed and a look of confusion crossed his face, “that reporter? Could you have been anymore of a liar?”

“That’s the whole point of this thing, in case you forgot!” he gestured between the two of them hands flailing wildly as he attempted to prove his point. In essence, he wasn’t wrong, but he didn’t be so cocky about it.

“I get that,” you rolled your eyes at him, “but you made it seem like a lot more than what it is. I mean ‘cliche best friends to lovers’? You could have left it at girlfriend.”

“Well I didn’t,” it was easy to see that he was getting annoyed but she was in the mood to push his buttons. That way she could really see how could he was at acting.

“Maybe you should have,” she gave a few nearby people a megawatt smile as they passed by, seeking their table in a sea of people. He gripped her wrist almost painfully tightly pulling her along, “maybe a bit of the truth would suffice.”

“Oh, like the fact that you’re throwing yourself at any man that looks at you,” he countered dryly, refusing to meet her eyes. She was livid, anger slowly starting to pump through her veins, “oops...is that too honest?”

“It’s not honest, it’s a big fat lie,” they had finally reached their table, a small sense of relief that there would be people joining them. It would be easier to keep from completely having a throw down if the threat of lingering eyes and company was upon them. Sitting down, she angled her chair away from him, “you’re just being an idiot. Maybe you could use your words for once instead of just reacting. Every choice has a consequence, Ben. And just so we’re clear, Joe isn’t every man, and I didn’t throw myself at him.”

“Oh, that’s rich,” he scoffed as he played with the silverware in front of him, eyes darting around, looking for any sort of distraction, be it person or thing. He watched her for a moment out of the corner of his eye, “you’ve known for like a week and you were already making out with him.”

“He kissed me!” she didn’t know why she felt the need to defend herself suddenly, “and time doesn’t matter. You can know you like someone after a few days. What are you jealous it took him a week and you twenty odd years? Maybe you could take a lesson from him and learn not to be a total prick. Oops...was that too honest?”

“You really want to do this right here and now?” he gritted his teeth as tried to keep a neutral expression on his face. He was trying his best to keep calm, but the unsaid things inside of him were slowly starting to bubble up. Ben knew he said have gotten them out a long time ago, but he waited and sat around on it, and slowly everything was coming to a head. 

“If it’ll actually get you talking to me instead of acting like a stupid little boy, then yes,” she retorted with such as much vigor, leaning back in her chair and giving off a cool, collected vibe, “all of this could have been resolved already you know. But you had to go and skulk around like a lost puppy and avoided me all day.”

“Y/N,” his eyes were clouded over with anger as he clenched his first against thigh. She was getting to him and they both knew it, “I swear to God. You’re the one being a brat now-”

“Ben? Y/N?” the sudden interruption of their table mates was welcome. Her heart had begun thumping wildly in her chest as they spurred each other on, but it would have to be put on hold for the time being.

“Yes,” Ben’s chest heaved as he looked at the couple that was joining them at the table. They looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t quite place. Either way he too was glad for the quick escape from the rapidly escalating argument. 

“Looks like we’re your table buddies for the evening!” the woman was chipper, almost nauseatingly so, but Y/N just flashed her a quick smile, opting to remain quiet, retreating deeply inside her own thoughts. 

“Fantastic,” he told them as they sat down and began to chat among themselves. Under his breath he murmured, “bloody freaking fantastic.”

The rest of the night had been spent in relative silence, the two of them only exchanging the necessary banter; otherwise it was a lot of frigid behavior and annoyed facial expressions. Luckily no one seemed to notice except the two of them

The ride back to the apartment was silent as the two of them sat on the opposite ends of the car. Several times she swore she had seen him open his mouth to say something, but no words ever came out, and the air remained thick and tense. Y/N was sure if she had had a knife she could have cut it, but instead she just stared at the rapidly passing buildings of downtown Los Angeles. She had entered the city with so much hope and excitement, and now she desired nothing more than to leave and go home. But she didn’t have her own home anymore; all she had was Ben’s apartment.

The rented apartment was still dark upon their return, no sign of life anymore. Joe hadn’t come home all, she concluded as she flicked on the lights and tossed her coat onto the couch.

Ben stood there awkwardly for a few moments, carefully contemplating his next as actions as he looked between Y/N and his bedroom. It would have been much, much simpler if he just ran and hid, keeping to himself. But this was Ben, and he was never one to make things easy. She could feel his eyes boring holes into the bare, exposed skin of her back, but decided to ignore it. Instead, she stretched, purposefully doing so slowly, letting out a low moan as her tired joints popped.

Once satisfied, she started to head to her bedroom without another word. She had almost made it free and clear until she felt a tugging on her wrist and looked up to find Ben standing there, silently, the most brooding of looks on his face. She tugged her arm and gave him a confused look. 

He’d been as cold as the Night King and now he suddenly wanted to talk. It was hard to track his moods, but she didn’t even bother to try anymore. She knew there were plenty of raw emotions flowing from everyone, and he’d never been a big sharer, preferring to keep things bottle up and to himself. When they were growing up, she’d often had to drag it out of him, forcing Ben to open up to her.

“What?” her tried to keep her own tone even, not wanting to start a ruckus when it wasn’t necessary. He remained there, still as could be, only his mouth opening and closing a few times, his eyes already glistening with tears. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she tried to look anywhere but his soft emerald eyes, knowing she’d be ruined if she did. After a few tense moments of him not saying anything, she stepped further into the room and started to close the door. But he held up his and hand and prevented it from shutting completely.

“I’m sorry,” were the only words from his red lips, so soft and quiet she almost didn’t hear them. Crossing her arms over her chest, and she waited for him to carry on. Voice cracking almost like a boy going through puberty, he said, “for the things I said last night. I was just…angry. I know it doesn’t excuse anything, but yeah. It was really wrong of me and I should have been went there.”

“No, you shouldn’t have,” she agreed, raising an eyebrow at him, “you hurt me, Ben. You get a little upset someone is showing me attention and vice versa and you just flip out? Calling me those names is awful, you made me feel like absolute garbage.”

“You think seeing my friends cozy up behind my back and making out made me feel good?” he countered. There was that fiery attitude coming through again. She sighed and realized this was going nowhere - he wanted to make amends but only on his terms, “you know how I feel about you, Y/N.”

“And I’ve told you how I feel,” she opened the door further, standing across him in a sort of challenge, “I’ve never made it a secret - I loved you once and you had the chance. And I’m not saying it wasn’t all your responsibility to confess, that was mine too, but we didn’t. And maybe we should acknowledge that fact and realize it was never meant to be us. Something would have happened by now if it was meant to be. But it hasn’t, and honestly, I don’t think it ever will.”

“We’re here, now. Halfway across the world from our home and together,” he ran his hands over his tired in frustration. He was trying desperately to get her to see his point, but it wasn’t working, “that has to mean something!”

“We’re here because I work for you now,” she almost laughed, “not because we’re lovers on a vacation. You need to learn to accept that. There is us and there never will. That’s the truth of matter. I know it can be hard to accept that, but you have to.”

“Y/N,” he sighed at her, taking a step closer into her room, as she took a cautionary step back, “I love you. I am in love with you. I always have been…that feeling never went away.”

She scoffed at him, staring past him at the wall so he couldn’t properly gauge her reaction. Her heart was going around in flips as her mind almost drowned in thoughts as she pondered over his words. In some ways it would have been so much easier if he just hated her, if he just screamed at her. That way at least she’d have a proper reason to hate him.

“Can you make them go away? Try at least,” her tone much softer than she had intended, giving away the fact that her cold front was slowly melting. The curly haired golden boy always had a way with her. No matter what he said or did, there was always something that drew her back to him; he was worse than nicotine in some ways.

“Don’t you think I’ve been trying?” he shrugged his shoulders, lifting his hand slowly and reaching out to touch a lock of her hair, twisting it ever so gently in between his fingers, “I’ve been trying to do what you want, respect your wishes, but it’s hard. So damn hard, and seeing you with him doesn’t make it easier.”

A large part of her was screaming to let him continue, to let him have his way with her, but she refused to give in again. Grabbing his hand, she untangled his fingers from her hair and quickly tied it all up in a sloppy ponytail.

“Try harder,” she suggested, trying her best to brush him off, “please. I can’t do this with you. I know there are feelings for you that will never go away, but I don’t think I can ever forgive you for what you did. My mind always goes back to it, and I just…there’s no way for me to justify it. I needed you, so badly, but you weren’t there. For all I knew you could have been dead too; but instead you were just out living the Hollywood dream.”

“You insist on pushing me away, continually, over and over again when all I want to do is support you and love you,” Ben’s voice start to escalate as he became more annoyed. It was slowly turning into a repeat of the previous night, “what do you want from me? Please, just tell me what it is you want. Anything!”

“I want to know why you weren’t there when I needed you most! I want to know why you weren’t by my side when my life was falling apart and I was barely keeping it together,” she felt it all start to come out now, the words quickly spilling from her mouth, “why weren’t you there as I watched my mum get sick and die? When I was getting abused for months by a scumbag I couldn’t get rid of until the police intervened? When I had to work multiple jobs just to scrape by. I didn’t want money or anything else from you, Ben, just you. You to hold my hand and tell me I’ll be okay. But you didn’t. No one did. I had to pick myself up by the bootstraps every single time. I cried myself to sleep for months on end, feeling like there was nothing more for me. Where were you?”

“Y/N, if I had any clue of what was going on-”

“You would have known if you were there,” she wiped her glassy eyes with the back of her arm, trying her damnedest to prevent a complete breakdown in front of him, “even if you weren’t physically there. If you just called or texted or…anything.”

“I-I can’t say anything but I’m sorry,” his voice was cracking as well, soaring higher as he grew more and more upset, “I’m sorry I was a shitty friend, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I loved you sooner, I’m sorry I just left. If I could do it all over, I’d give all of this up - everything, if it meant I got you.”

“Then tell me why you didn’t come back,” she demanded, chewing on the inside of her cheek so hard that the metallic taste of blood flooded her mouth. She cringed slightly at the taste, but stared him down, “tell me what was so important. What was so much more important than me? Than us? Than yourself?”

“I was scared,” he confessed, leaning against the door with a small huff, “scared that I’d waited too long to come back to you. Scared to admit that you were right and Hollywood had sucked me in. Scared to give it all away and come home. I’d didn’t want to be a failure.”

“And what did it cost?” she held up her hands and gestured wildly. His feet suddenly appeared very interesting and he kept his gaze trained on them.

“Everything,” his response finally came after a few moments that felt like hours, “absolutely everything.”

“Why didn’t you come back to me?” she didn’t even care about the shakiness in her voice at this point. She felt like she was finally making a breakthrough and wanted some real answers to her questions. It was what they got deserved, “was I not good enough for you anymore?”

“No,” the word was loud and clear, following her question immediately. He languidly raked his eyes up her body, taking his sweet time before meeting her eyes, “because I got here and it wasn’t anything like I expected. Everyone wanted to control me, telling me to do, how to act, what to wear, what to say. And I wasn’t strong enough to tell them no. I wanted my shot and I figured this was what it took. It went to far…when I first told them about you, they all but said to forget about and everything back home. That wasn’t who I was anymore, that was the old me. At first, I tried to fight back, but they always held it over me, claiming that they could unmake me just as easily as they made me.”

“And you accepted it,” she confirmed. Suddenly everything garnered a bit of clarity and made more sense; not that it made it easier to accept. At least she understood now.

“Yes,” he agreed, wringing his hands nervously, “at first I was mad, angry that I had to be someone who I wasn’t. But slowly I became that person. With each passing day it became easier and easier to leave it all behind and become who they wanted. I wasn’t just Ben Jones anymore, I was the embodiment of Ben Hardy. I thought about you almost everyday, knowing you probably despised me, that you started hating. But I could just never bring myself to call. After a while, I just accepted who I had become. If I had any idea what it would have done, the pain it would have caused…”

“But you did,” she sniffled, shrugging her a shoulder as she watched a single tear slide down his cheek. He didn’t bother to wipe it away, letting it fall onto his shirt, “you knew what the right thing to do was. I know you did, Ben, I grew up with you. You should have pushed through. I’m not saying it was all your fault, but a large part of it was. How could you just abandon everything and everyone? Money, fame, it’s all fleeting. What we had wasn’t…”

“I know I fucked up…”

“Yeah, you did,” her tone was still soft but there was a lot of hurt behind it, “how would you have felt if the roles were reversed? If I had just left you for years without a word?”

“I’d be angry, hurt…” he mused aloud and just nodded in a sort of ‘aha’ moment.

“Well,” she concluded. He just nodded, moving slightly closer to Y/N, the distance between their bodies becoming less and less, “that’s how I feel, except a million times worse.”

“Let me win your trust back,” he pleaded with her, his eyes never wavering from hers as he slowly reached up and traced a finger along her jaw, “let me back in. I know I don’t deserve it, and it won’t be easy, but please, I’m begging you. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

“Ben,” her voice was barely above a whisper as he touched the corner of mouth, lingering on her soft lips. She wanted to push him away, knowing this couldn’t be right, but she could herself frozen. She wanted this, deep down inside she knew that. It was wrong, especially with everyone’s emotions running rampant and out of check.

But Ben pushed his luck, crashing his lips onto hers with a hungry, fervent passion. Taking only about three seconds to respond, she wrapped her arms around his neck, carding a hand through his golden hair as his hands settled on her hips. A part of her knew it was wrong, that she would fight back and tell him off, but she just couldn’t bring herself to do it. In all honesty, she didn’t want to do it. 

He worked his way onto along her jaw, going down the column of her throat, sucking and biting at the delicate skin, causing her to let out a low moan. Squeezing her eyes shut, she let him take control, deciding to give into him. She had waited for this for so long, craved it and desired it, dreamed of how it would feel to give herself completely to him. 

His hands moved to the straps of her ornate dress and he slowly slipped them off of her shoulders, pausing only for a moment to look up and meet her eyes, asking for permission. She bit her bottom lip and gave him a slow nod, but he stilled.

“Need to hear you say it,” he whispered, his lips lingering near hers, his sweet lightly alcohol laced breath fanning over her, “out loud. Tell me you want this too.”

“I want this too,” she confirmed, resting her forehead against his. She knew this wasn’t right, they shouldn’t be jumping into bed together, while they were still so confused and unsure about everything; fragile and broken. But she needed him, her body needed him, and in the heat of the moment she couldn’t turn him away. For once, for the first time in a long time, it was Ben - her Ben, looking back at her. 

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered tenderly, his hand going to the zipper at her back. She tried to repeat the words to him, but they were lost in her throat; she couldn’t bring herself to say them to him. Instead a noise somewhere between a moan and something akin to a jumble of words came out as he pressed his body against hers. He didn’t seem to notice her lack of reciprocity, too lost in his own little world.

A sense of guilt settled over her, but she repressed it, focusing on the moment and letting herself get lost to him. She had no doubt that there would be consequences from what they were doing, but she was so far gone she didn’t care. At that point, anyone could have seen or walked in and she wouldn’t have given it a second thought.

All she could feel was his skin on her skin as he slipped off her dress before undressing himself, their lips seeming to never part, unless  absolutely necessary. Once he had completely stripped her, he took a moment to admire her naked form, gazing at her like she was the most beautiful piece of art he had ever seen. 

Pushing her back slowly onto the bed, he discarded his boxers so he was as naked as her, crawling over her and placing hot, open mouthed kisses along her soft, supple flesh.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said as he gently traced the contours of her face with a soft finger, “so, so beautiful.”

“Ben,” she pulled him roughly to her lips, trying to ignore the sense of guilt that was growing within her, along with the dull ache between her legs, “get on with it.”

The nest morning, Y/N woke up in messy haze, eyes bleary as the California sun streamed in brightly through the windows. Groaning, she stretched and rolled over to find a heavily sleeping Ben next to her. 

“Fuck,” she whispered quietly to herself. A sense of immediate regret settled over her - she knew this had been a mistake. She should have said no, she should have stopped him; but she hadn’t. She had gone along with it, never putting up an ounce of resistance as years of built up tension was released. Now there was a whole other mess to deal with. 

She slowly climbed out of the bed, trying her best not to wake him. He was so lost in slumber that he didn’t even stir; at least there was that for now. Reaching into one of the dresser drawers, she pulled out an oversized t-shirt and shorts, before padding into the kitchen to contemplate her actions over a cup of coffee. It was highly doubtful that it would help, but at this point, it wasn’t going to hurt anything. What was done was done, now there would only be fallout to deal with.

As she stared at the coffee brewing, so wrapped up in her own thoughts, she hadn’t heard the footsteps approaching her, and almost jumped out of her skin when she looked up and met his eyes.

“Hey,” he said softly, a sleepy half smile on his face, eyes soft as ever, “I’m really sorry about yesterday...and the night before. I shouldn’t have just left like that, especially not when you had to deal with Ben on your own.”

“J-Joe,” she clutched at her rapidly beating heart. She hadn’t noticed that at some point last night he had come home; from his demeanor it was clear that he wasn’t aware of anything that had happened. He hadn’t heard a sound of their lovemaking, or otherwise had somehow repressed, “it’s okay...I know things were tense for all of us.”

“What I’m not sorry for,” he continued on, still so blissfully clueless to everything that happened within the last twenty-four hours, “was kissing you. I wasn’t lying, Y/N. I really do like you, even though I suppose it’s not the ideal situation.”

“I like you too,” she blurted out truthfully, so conflicted by her own emotions. But it wasn’t anywhere near a lie; she liked Joe. She really, really, liked him. But what about Ben? 

“Maybe,” he handed her the coffee creamer from the fridge, a small but sweet gesture, “we could go out sometime? I’d like to take you to dinner. Just you and me, obviously we’d have to keep it very low key-”

“Why?”

“For the press, silly girl,” he explained as if it was so obvious. Clearly the guilt was getting her, “and I’ll talk to Ben. I feel like I need to, to explain everything to him. He’s my friend too, and I owe it to him.”

“I wouldn’t...” she started but trailed off. How was she supposed to tell him that she had just spent the night with him, carelessly letting him have her?

“It’s okay, Y/N,” he pressed a quick kiss to her cheek, pausing only when he saw a few faint marks near the bottom of her neck, but didn’t press the issue. His mind didn’t drift anywhere near the thought of them sleeping together, “listen, I’ve got to go, but I’ll be back this evening. I’ll see you then.”

“See you then,” she waved after him, staring at the space he had occupied long after he was gone. This was slowly turning into a much more complicated disaster than she had anticipated, and this time she was as much to blame as everyone else, if not more so. 

Leaving the steaming mug of coffee behind, she rushed into her bedroom, hastily trying to shake Ben awake. It didn’t take much as his eyes snapped open, and he gave her an alarmed look.

“What’s going on, love?” he asked as he rubbed the remainder of sleep from his eyes. She shook her head and pointed to the door as a confused look crossed his face.

“You have to get out,” she said simply, wishing things hadn’t come to a head like this, “please just leave.”

“I-I thought...” he looked at the serious expression on her face and saw that she wasn’t joking, “Y/N? What are you on about?”

“Get out, Ben,” she repeated sternly, “just go.”

“Y/N-”

“Last night was a mistake,” her voice was cold as ice as she met his eyes, “it shouldn’t have happened.”

“A mistake?” he scoffed at her throwing the covers back heading for the door, grabbing his discarded clothes, “a fucking mistake?”

“I-I’m sorry, okay?” she swallowed the lump the ever present lump in her throat, “I shouldn’t have let it get that far, I should have stopped it.”

“Then why didn’t you?”

She couldn’t find a good answer, in reality there were none. She stood there silently, starting the at the wooden floor, studying the swirls in the pattern of the wood. He let out a small, angry laugh as he started to leave.

“I’m starting to think that the only mistake was coming back to you, Y/N.”

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[davewakeman]

Talking Tickets: 21 February 2020--MLB! NBA! NHL! And More!

Hey everybody! 

How’s your week? Let me know!

If you haven’t had a chance to fill out my short survey yet, I’d appreciate it if you’d take 3-4 minutes to share your thoughts and ideas so that I can make sure this newsletter and the podcast continue to deliver value to y’all.

Anytime you want to say hello or share something with me, you can always reply to this email…you definitely will get a response from a live human.

To the tickets!

————————————————————————————————————

1. MLB continues to struggle to put the Astros’ sign-stealing scandal in the rearview mirror:

My frustration with baseball is that they just are always on the back foot to use a soccer term.

This week really highlighted the challenge that is going to have for the game to ever right its ship.

I know they report that they are making more money than ever, but from an attendance standpoint, reporting tickets distributed while Twitter is showing you stadiums sitting there with 3,000-5,000 fans a lot of nights isn’t a great look.

Compare MLB’s reaction to the Astros scandal with the way that Man City’sbreach of Financial Fair Play in Europe is being handled and you see a leadership gap, which hasn’t been helped by the Rob Manfred trying to throw the blame everywhere but his office.

From a marketing standpoint, a tough situation, selling baseball in a crowded market, has gotten more difficult.

I’ll type up some more thoughts about this on my blog, but here are a few actionable things:

1. Stop digging. Rob Manfred’s PR team shouldn’t keep running him out there if he is just saying the same things. If you find yourself in a PR crisis, please don’t just start saying crazy things.

2. Step back and focus on how you are going to move forward. Just speaking about the scandal in the past tense isn’t very effective. You have to have a clear plan for moving forward.

In any organization, change begins by sharing a compelling vision for the future. This is obviously a challenge for MLB and all the teams, not just the ones directly implicated in the scandal. The teams need some leadership and a vision for how this ends and how the game gets back on the front foot, their partners and sponsors need this, and their fans and customers deserve it.

3. I’ve worked with teams that have won the World Series and one of the coolest things from my teenage years was making friends with a member of the World Series winning Big Red Machine teams and going over to my friend’s house to see his replica trophies.

Don’t slag on your trophies, ever. Those trophies represent much of the power and emotional connection your fans have to your sport and if you are crapping on that, why are people supposed to even care?

2. The NBA is seeing some financial challenges from their dust-up with China:

I’ve had the flu this week and I haven’t had the voice to record the intro to a new, updated episode with Greg Turner about doing business in China, but if you can make out anything from the first episode, it would be how this was to be expected. (Technical difficulties due to the firewall in China’s internets caused the first episode to be a big disjointed.)

It seems like the NBA is reporting taking about a 4% hit on revenue this year due to standing up for their beliefs in dealing with China.

In a world where brands are all shouting about how “cause marketing” is so important, real cause marketing means you put your bottom line on the line. The NBA did that, on purpose or not.

To me, the more problematic situation that the NBA is facing right now is a ratings slump at the local level with the Warriors falling 66% and the average team down 13%. Which mirror a slump in the NBA’s ratings this year despite a jump in viewership for this year’s All-Star Game.

Right now, we see the NFL rushing to finish up a new labor deal so that they can negotiate their next round of TV deals while extreme premiums are still likely to be had.

My concern is that losing ratings for a season isn’t going to harm the NBA too much, but if the trend of NBA viewing continues to lag, the issues in China become a multi-year challenge, and maybe you have some more injuries, retirements, or other on-court issues…the revenue becomes challenged. And, that trickles down to raising ticket prices, concessions, and merchandise to levels that to higher levels than they are now.

I mean, you’re already seeing in New Orleans with Zion.

As we’ve seen since the online shopping has become so prominent, we have trained consumers to wait and shop for deals. We’ve also seen an entire generation of marketers and business folks that have become almost blindly committed to managing by spreadsheet while consumer spending on experiences has increased dramatically.

TV viewership is a fickle beast. Live by the sword, die by the sword…I guess.

The real focus here has to be on creating communities of fans around teams, communities, stories, and experiences. These can absolutely happen online and offline.

P.S. The NHL is having hiccups as well. This can be even more problematic because the NHL probably would benefit from more television exposure.

3. Rage Against The Machine is raising money for charity and taking on the secondary market: 

I’m going to guess that the Rage Against The Machine tour is going to be interesting. It is their first tour in a decade. It is an election year. It seems like a perfect storm for them, yeah?

This idea that Rage is going to thwart the secondary market would seem consistent with their ethos. Raising money for charities also seems on brand.

Where the big challenge comes in, is whether or not the charity pricing aspect was explained clearly at the start.

Pearl Jam does a similar thing with their charity tickets that support their Vitalogy Foundation. They handle it slightly differently, which I think helps with the messaging and the fan blowback.

To me, this is just a situation where if you have a fan base and you can sell the tickets directly with no issues at all, sell. But today’s consumer also has a higher expectation of transparency…so that if you are going to institute a charity program like Rage to fight the secondary market, just share that at the start.

BTW, where did Tom Morello get his “85% of the secondary market” comment anyway?

And, Don Vaccaro and TicketNetwork have committed to donating all their service fees from the first 3 shows in March to National Action Network, the civil-rights organization founded by the Reverend Al Sharpton.

4. Congress is going to continue to investigate the world of tickets: 

Just as I trying to close out this week’s newsletter, this news came down the pipe. So, on February 26th, 2020, Congress is going to hold a hearing on tickets.

This comes on the heels of a letter being released that Pearl Jam sent to Representative Frank Pallone Jr on Wednesday saying that the BOSS act will hurt consumers and pointing to transferability and transparency of the number of tickets being on sale would be bad for consumers.

After the release of Pearl Jam’s letter, Bill Pascrell sent out a release of his own rejecting Pearl Jam’s feedback on the BOSS act.

This continued investigation of the ticket business is a global trend. Last week, I talked about the CMA in the UK halting the Viagogo & StubHub merger due to their concerns, even as the US government approved the deal despite these objections.

And, this week, news out of Australia shows that people are rallying around an Information Standard in regards to the secondary market.

Along with the UK government stating they will investigate the illegal resale of football tickets in the UK after a report in the Guardian uncovered the ins and outs of massive football ticket resale.

As for how do you approach this story:

* Pay attention to what comes out of next week’s hearing. I stated at the time of the workshop in June of 2019 that I felt like this would be an issue that would hang over the industry through the election because it is easy for both sides to beat down on ticket sellers, technology companies, resellers, and everyone involved in the industry directly or indirectly. Fun for the whole family.

* I’d also pay attention to what gets defined as “consumer” friendly. I’m on the side of giving Pearl Jam the benefit of the doubt. They’ve worked pretty hard and taken steps that definitely haven’t been in their own best interests to do what was right for their fans, but I’m also conscious of unintended consequences.

5. Red Bull shows how to grow a team from the ground up: 

RB Leipzig beat Spurs 1-0 on Wednesday! (Just adding to the suffering of having the flu. You think Dele was mad…try watching a poor showing while barely keeping your eyes open and feeling like reheated death!)

But this story is really great in the context of the continuing story of the Astros scandal in the States, Man City in Europe, and Thursday’s news of the arrest of PSG’s president for bribery.

Closer to home for me, it highlights what is possible with vision as the Mets are for sale and the sale has started to have its own amount of drama…and, as the Knicks continue to struggle at MSG.

3 things here:

1. Vision is so important. Melbourne FC just released a plan this week for their fans. It was called out on Australian radio, but without a plan and a vision…you don’t ever reach your potential.

2. Winning matters, but community is powerful. I’ve given this speech on 3 continents now…but you can’t just sell winning, you need to build a community. Leipzig is showing that now and we can see in a lot of places that there is a thing like winning fatigue. Or, in the case of the Warriors, a new arena and a lot of winning aren’t going to fix a bad season in every case.

3. Marketing matters: Red Bull’s involvement in sports and the way they have managed their teams shows that they understand the value of marketing and they understand that great brands, teams, and organizations aren’t built in a day.

While their teams haven’t been successful 100% of the time, they have been consistent and have continued to focus on their vision, their values, and their message over and over. That’s something we can all learn from. —————————————————————————————————————-

What am I up to this week?

I’ve got a couple of webinars coming up this week starting with Wednesday’s visit of my ebook created in partnership with Booking Protect: What Matters In Ticketing Now.  Sign up for the webinar and learn ideas, trends, and actions that you can take to put these insights to work for your business. 

On Thursday, I’m turning my eye to sales by putting together: The Language of the Sale–10 Ways To Use Language More Effectively In Your Sales Process. This is built on the last 6-9 months of sales training I’ve done with teams around the world and this one will be fast and actionable for your team as soon as you get through with the webinar.

Check out the podcast archives: new episodes coming this week now that my voice is coming back. If you have suggestions for guests and the podcast, fill out the survey at the top of the page. 

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Talking Tickets: 21 February 2020–MLB! NBA! NHL! And More! was originally published on Wakeman Consulting Group