#WHERES THAT FUCKIN IMAGE OF THE PERSON IN THE TAGS GOING CRAZY

[fostersffff]

Ok, alright, I'm gonna fuckin' say it because it's been in the back of my brain because I keep seeing fanart sharing a particular theme, and I don't know if it's just people making fun fanart for themselves or something deeper, but considering I've raised a more general version of this idea before, I'm just gonna lay it out. And I'm even gonna put it beneath a break to avoid inadvertently spoiling anyone who may be inclined to read this later and haven't blocked the tag:

(also this should go without saying but don't tell me either way)

Is Battler transgender? And Beatrice is the ideal image?

It's been fucking killing me that I can't figure out who Beatrice is. She, or the person who became Beatrice, must have existed in relation to Battler at some point. But we haven't been introduced to any characters like that, except I've been vaguely tossing around the idea of a Fukuin House baby, which- as we get further and further away from it- feels more like a red herring.

So, like, was Battler's affirmation that created Beatrice that they would tell their family about how they identified? And then they left Rokkenjima and then upon returning and seeing the portrait of Beatrice it created a Magical Cope™ where Battler either needed to confront and understand themselves, or deny it and live without it forever?

I'm honestly hoping this isn't the case, because I got led to this conclusion specifically by seeing at least three totally unrelated pieces of fanart of Trans Flag/TERF Killer Beato since I started reading, and figuring out the mystery based on that would be a bit of a downer.

And, if this is just a crazy left-field guess because of that, it'll be fun to have down for future reference.

[mortifyingideal]

i was tagged in this by the wonderful @fremulon (thanks cherry!) and accidentally deleted the whole thing twice so now i'm mostly just posting it out of spite and without a read more due to said spite. SUCK IT TUMBLR.

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

I have 10 published out loud and 1 published anonymously

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

226419

3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

okay so this is really only my most recent life. i have been around a lot. a lot. i was there, gandalf, during the superwholock years (and an active participant) so over the course of my life it's like

Harry Potter, Teen Titans, Sherlock, Doctor Who, Supernatural, Inception, Daredevil, The Avengers, The Musketeers, Wells & Wong Mysteries, Twin Peaks, Homestuck, Red vs Blue

but in this lifetime i'm just writing for Good Omens (and have written for DuckTales and Cruella)

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

1 — Loosely Ballroom (surprising absolutely nobody)

2 — Look Not Too Deep

3 — ergo propter hoc (okay this one is kind of a surprise actually but i'm very happy about it i love this fic)

4 — café au vin

5 — an institute you can't disparage

5. Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

i do! i try to respond to every comment i get on the day of/the day after i get it. i've met a lot of good friends this way, and i also just like taking the time to respond to people who've taken the time to respond to something i made. makes me feel good (plus i want everyone to like me)

the only downside is it can get a bit overwhelming at times? particularly with LB, which gets a shitload of comments per chapter and can take me up to two full days to read through them all and answer, and if i'm having a bad brain time i just cannot face doing it. so if you've ever left a comment and i've not responded, i promise It's not because i don't appreciate it. my brain machine just was going brmmmmmmmmm.

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

i was going to say NONE BECAUSE I DON'T WRITE ANGST but i guess if i had to decide it would be the RVB fic that's on my ao3 right now, which has an angstily hopeful ending.

7. Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

hahahaha

CRAZY LIKE A FOX

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

not as far as i'm aware! i have had several uhhhhhhh overly familiar meant-to-be-jovial comments on/about the above crossover from people i don't really know very well that have told me i'm a terrible person or i've committed crimes while i'm out here like, cool this is art i made and put in the world for fun and believe in and i don't really... know you? but those comments were meant in good faith imo so i don't really think it counts as hate

9. Do you write smut? If so what kind?

the last time i tried to write smut, crowley got stabbed, so the kind that sends people to the hospital i guess?

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not to my knowledge. good luck formatting all the images and italics, anyone who might try.

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

again, not to my knowledge!

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

infamously. it's the only reason anyone might have read this far. also attempting to collaborate on an as-of-yet-unfinished-project with @indieninja92 who is a creative genius with their finger in many, many pies. speaking of, have you visited hauntedswords.com recently?

13. What’s your all time favorite ship?

errrrrr i mean probably aziraphale/crowley, not to seem obvious. they've been with me since i was like 10 years old, they haven't gone anywhere, they will probably be bothering me until the day i die.

14. What’s a WIP you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I WILL FINISH ALL OF MY WIPs. okay no that's not true, i have the start of an inception fic that is a GO AU that i honestly think would have been fucking slammin' but the time for that has passed now.

15. What are your writing strengths?

a very definite sense of character voice, attention to detail in terms of enriching the world i'm writing in, dialogue dialogue dialogue, smash cuts (are they even called smash cuts in writing? WHATEVER THEY ARE I CAN DO THEM)

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

you are my collaborator. you send me back part of a chapter and tell me i have a sentence that is a bit too lengthy and doesn't work, and i need to edit it. i send it back to you. the sentence is now an entire paragraph and a half, with three jokes, a metaphor and a new line of dialogue embedded in it, changing the overall tone of the chapter. this is known as The Mort Special.

i also get very in my own head about not really being a good writer, or not being as good as the people (or person specifically i suppose) that i'm working with. i'm working on this! i'm not working on The Mort Special, though, that's always writing gold.

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

this is a really weird and specific question, who hurt you OP? errrr i guess much like any quirk of writing, it's fine when used sparingly and with a deft hand.

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

fuck me, probably Harry Potter? neopets roleplaying boards were a gateway drug.

19. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

this is the part where i pretend i'm going to say something other than Loosely Ballroom. i don't think i'll ever make something else in my life that's made me feel the way making that has. it's been—to delve into reality TV speak (and paraphrase crowley from a future chapter)—a real emotional rollercoaster.

plus it's just fuckin' funny isn't it.

tagging @phoenix-soar, @thyra279, @heycaricari, @stillseekwill and @katnoggin (and anyone else who might want to!)

[sleepymccoy]

Aziraphale’s demon aspect

As voted by 246 people!

The winner is

Owl

with nearly 26% of the primary vote

many people added in their free form answers that they were imagining a barn owl specifically

Owl was the front runner the whole way through this survey, but most of the time by a very beatable margin. The 40 or so people who voted in the last night really tipped it over, it was a tight race! And the results are crazy split imo, a quarter of votes constitutes a win! I love the different opinions and ideas we all have so so much

Ram/sheep came in a hearty second with 16.5% of the vote

A very regal demon there.

After that it gets a little murky, so I’m going to share the second graph I made when is every animal that got more than 1% of the vote. So it’s the top six animals

Magpie and Lion holding strong! Then Moth and Goat looking very good

The second question let you vote for as many options as you thought were appropriate for Aziraphale! So, there were a lot more write-ins! It’s crazy!

I’m using google sheets so I can’t get it to show you every name, but the raw data will be in a read more so you can scroll through everyone’s beautiful imagination there

Again, Owl winds with a solid 20% of the vote. Ram/Sheep coming in with about 15%, followed by Moth, Magpie, Goat, Lion, then Tortoise.

Tortoise was 11th in the first round, tied with Snake (but pale), and managed to surprise me by coming through so strong in the second. Slow and steady, baby.

Nearly everyone who wrote in about Magpies told me that Magpies hoard stuff, so it’s nice to see the hive mind at work there!

Five people told me they were voting goat because of that one piece of art by @hollow-head​ that shows Aziraphale scaling a bookshelf like goats do cliffs. As an artist myself I found it legitimately moving that this one image had stayed with people so strongly. That’s just beautiful. Here’s an example of just one person’s comment

idk dude i just remember one person posted art of him scaling the bookstore shelves like those goats scale mountains and just eating his clothes while he reads it was so fuckin funny but anyway goat eyes are great or he could have lil stubby horns that r covered by his hair

One moth enthusiast took the time to give me a short essay on their choice of moth. I have included a portion of it, cos it was so great

So if I had to choose an insect, it would be a moth, preferably a Megalopygidae, also known as the Flannel Moth. They are fluffy, white-beige and look innocent and fluffy, but their larvae can cause painful inflammations. A poodle moth would also fit because it's almost pure white.

Here’s a flannel moth for everyone

and a poodle moth, which i honestly thought was a hoax but i looked into it just now and it seems legit? There’s not a tonne of proof, but the og pictures are from a scientists who stands by them, so like, wow

And then a DIFFERENT PERSON put this in;

the moth i had in mind is Acherontia atropos, in polish called Zmierzchnica trupia główka (meaning more or less "dusk death's head"). i have a whole symbolism planned out and stuff 

Fucking, moth fandom come through!!

I’m vaguely scared of moths, fun fact. I don’t like the thick thunking sound they make when they hit stuff.

Here is the second round but with all the animals that got four or less votes removed for ease of viewing

the one segment there at 12 o’clock that google hasn’t labeled for me is Swan at 0.9%

I cannot believe I didn’t put swan in as an option, that’s all write-ins

So, to summarise, I suggest you take a lot of this with a grain of salt. It is not meant as an instruction to fandom or to railroad creativity. I have a narrow corner of the Good Omens fandom that I interact with, and while this quiz was up for a week I’m not sure it reached a great variety of people. About 250 folks filled it out, which was tonnes more than I expected and I love each and every one of you for filling it out!! But I have noticed that Owl was first on my list and in the free form answers the example prompt I gave included, “such as a breed of owl that specifically speaks to you,“ so I think it’s possible I did that unknowing bias thing that practiced survey folk know now to do. So, grain of salt.

I also think that if animals like Swan and Cat were in the list of options they’d’ve gotten more votes because the people who voted for those were coming up with it fresh themselves. I suspect people would’ve voted for them, but it just didn’t occur to them in the moment. In much the same way it didn’t occur to me in the moment I was writing this survey.

So people know, I got the ten or so animals that I put in the survey from searching the demon!aziraphale tag on tumblr, so it was all stuff that other people had come up with. I was trying to avoid my own bias, but i think in hindsight i could’ve done better!

Having said all that, this was all so much fun and the results are clear!!! Love a good owl!aziraphale

Imma continue to draw my boy as a ram, though. Cos this was all just for a laugh <3

numbers and a few more things under the cut

So some of these have half a vote ascribed to them. That’s for people who in their freeform answer said things like this;

ngl, that one post about him being a swan still makes me laugh

Mourning Dove. Though that Scallop answer was fucking brilliant

And I kinda made a judgement call that that wasn’t a vote, but it was kind of a vote. So I gave them half a point.

There were a few situations where people would write in a specific species. If I got more than one vote for the root animal I just grouped them together, but if it stayed the only vote then it kept the species. Cat got the most specific species mentioned, and in the second vote Bat had a few species mentioned (albino bat being my fave), but I ended up grouping them all just under Cat and Bat to give them a better chance of getting on the graph. There were probably a few other examples but I can’t think of them. The one exception to this is the person who wrote-in Duolingo Owl specifically. For that one I figured Owl is already pretty solid, and that’s just fucking funny, man

I was also pretty generous about some stuff. So, this person didn’t vote for Moose but they clearly regretted it so I added a vote for Moose in the second one where you could vote for multiples. They kept their Ram and Goat votes, of course, but I added Moose for them

I get very bastard energy from my demon az headcanons. Like f-ing shit up for a laugh more than anything, but otherwise indifferent. That's kinda why I like the ram/sheep/goat thing so much because it reminds me of indifference and random chaos. Or a moose. Shit, I should have written in moose

So yeah, it’s hardly a double blind study that’d stand up to any real criticism, but it was fun and I think the essence of it is fun!! Scroll through and have a read. Imma pull a few more of my fave write-ins and put them down the bottom cos it’s great. Esp the ones that only got one vote, the reasonings were stellar on some of those

Here is the first vote results, where everyone could only vote for one animal each

Owl 63 Ram/Sheep 40 Magpie 28 Lion 26 Moth 21 Goat 17 Swan 4 Eagle 4 Dove 4 Cat 4 Tortoise 3 Snake 3 Scallop 2 Rat 2 Rabbit 2 Mongoose 2 Badger 2 Shima Enaga 1 Shark 1 Porcupine 1 Orangutan 1 Mouse 1 Long Furby 1 Hippopotomaus 1 Goose 1 Duck 1 Dragon 1 Cow 1 Cereberus 1 Boar 1 Bee 1 Bat 1 Alpaca 1

Second Vote results, where everyone could vote for as many as they wanted

Owl1 82 Ram/Sheep 136 Moth 108.5 Magpie 98 Goat 96 Lion 72 Tortoise 61 Snake 37 Eagle 33 Cat 9.5 Swan 7.5 Lizard 4 Rabbit 4 Badger 3 Mongoose 2 Dove 2 Mouse 2 Squirrel 2 Bear 2 Raccoon 2 Capybara 2 Dragon 2 Bat 1 Long Furby 1 Rat 1 Boar 1 Goose 1 Peacock 1 Pangolin 1 Lindworm 1 Moose 1 Chinchilla 1 Duolingo Owl 1 Cackatoo 1 Crow 1 Cow 1 Alpaca 1  Dodo 1 Shark 1 Big Dog 1 Snow Leopard 1 Scallop 0.5

All voting was optional. To help explain how scallop lost 1.5 votes from first to second, I believe the people who voted for it in the first question just skipped the second cos they’d said their bit.

In terms of how many people engaged with the questions, Q1 had 245 answers and one skip. Q2 had 241 answers and 5 skips, and Q3 where I just let people talk at me if they wanted to had 84 answers and 162 skips.

So please enjoy my selection of free form answers. They all made me smile but putting all 84 in seems excessive to me, so I’ve chosen the ones that are either full blown mini essays or that make me laugh. It’s still a lot, this project brought me so much joy

-

Shima enaga - It's the hair man

Cow (aka golden calf)

Scallop. He is a snack.

Swan. Elegant but very capable of fscking you up. Mates for life.

basically anything that is both gentle in nature and fiercely loyal, territorial and protective (but prone to anxiety). Also hedonistic esp. with food. For all of these reasons, I think a dog would be the best choice.

Dragon with his hoard of books

it’s about the teeth. just too sharp and too many to be human. (comment from op here, this person voted for shark, just for context)

Turkish Angora cat. Magnificently fluffy, incredibly intelligent, love heights and will jump off crazy high things and land on your head, gloriously dignified until they see a string and run into a wall, love one or maybe two persons to distraction and want everyone else to fuck off, will drape themselves over their person’s shoulders and go to sleep, range from “will jump in the sea to hunt fish and has a murder pit full of seagulls they’ve massacred” to “will fall over at the sight of a baby bird”, very particular about food and will yell at you if you get it wrong. Also the breed that some asshole took three cats from and bred parent to child to make Persians. The cautionary tale has been acknowledged and we love our crazy smart, single braincelled children.

I usually imagine him as an owl because they are nocturnal (and we know that Aziraphale can easily stay awake the whole night reading). Also the image of an owl puffed up is kind of ridiculous and reminds me of him, of how an annoyed Aziraphale would look. However the options above have made me think that a lion would suit him very well, too. A lion or just a very BIG cat. I mean, he makes pleading eyes to get what he wants, likes to be confortable, is a bit of a bastard and often puts himself in awkward situations from which he needs to be rescued. He just... acts very cat-like in my opinion. Also owls and cats are both predators, but are usually imagined (or, at least cats are) as cute little creatures, just like Aziraphale is an Angel of the Lord (a Warrior, actually) but looks all soft and cute and huggable. I dunno. Maybe I just want to pet an Aziracat.

I love all the other people's thoughts about demon!Aziraphale, but what about the honey badger? I try to explain why I have it in mind for demon!azi: its name (I think it's funny, expecially in English because 'honey' can make you imagine it's something sweet (it is for me), while the 'bad' in badger can be an alarm bell (like 'be careful! It is not like it seems!')); its face (ok, who can say its face isn't cute? I think, and hope, nobody can, and like the name, it is a misunderstanding: as always, be careful, it's not like it seems!, I think demons can say something about demon!azi as like "you don't seem like a 'good' demon, you can't be, your face (animal and human) is too f-ing disgusting sweet to be a demon!", I think maybe even angel!crowley, at the beginning, can think something like this ("how in the world somebody so cute like you can be a demon?"), then he discovered how demon!azi can be a very talented demon sometimes, but in Crowley's mind azi is still his little cutie angry furry); its furry's colour (black=demon, white/grey/silver/idkitsname= color of demon!azi's wings, because even if he fell, I can't say no to his white wings 😭); it is a snake's predator (and in my mind angel!crowley is still a snake); its solitary life (demon!aziraphale is alone and he doesn't mind it, unless it's angel!crowley we're talking about, then our cute demon minds it); its behaviour (demon!azi, even if he's cute, can be a really very talented demon: honey badger is fearless and dangerous, it can fight bigger animals if there aren't other chances and it can't escape); its skin is very tough (except for a soft/safe spot, behind its neck if I remember well, that only angel!Crowley knows and sometimes he uses it to calm demon!azi down or make azi do some good deeds); its diet (it has a sweet-thooth, for honey in primis, but it can eat everything it wants... Doesn't it resemble demon!azi?); it's smart (search for Stoffle on your browser if you don't know)... Ok,I think I finish, sorry for the novel 😅

I tend to think of animals that meet three criteria: (1) they exemplify “faults” in his character exaggerated to “sins”—gluttony, greed/hoarding, sloth, (2) they are species that favor fawning or flight as a defense mechanism but can also be bold on occasion, and (3) blend very well or have a keen affinity with human society, specifically thriving in urban (i.e., city) environments. This is mostly because I can’t see “Aziraphale” in a reverse AU that doesn’t preserve some of his core traits as an angel (a little hedonistic, hoarding, anxious, etc.). So I like city-dwelling bastard animals with bonus points for relation to scripture, like a rock dove or a fox or an owl.

Owls aren't  smart, and the pedant in me says not an owl. But, thinking on it, demon aspect, owls are perceived as smart, but designed as deadly silent predators, patient and solitary. So actually demon Aziraphale could take on more owlish aspects. I just like cockatoo better, since they are smart, and showy. Or a crow, although that does amusing things with Crowleys name.

god imagining him as a chimera is !!! (comment from op, there was this odd flurry of mythical animals being voted for one night. i think the survey hit a corner of fandom that leans that way. there was also dragon, another chimera, a griffon, and a lindworm all at the same rough time)

Magpies are great because they’re cute and fluff themselves up (go look at Sophie the magpie) and like hoarding their favorite things but also I’ve watched one just straight up kill another bird before because corvids are sneaky little bastards with no lack of a mean streak if they’re crossed

It’s the duolingo owl, I’m so sorry op but it just is. I genuinely don’t mean to clown on your post, but this take was delivered to me in a sleep induced haze and I believe it’s the god given truth. Demon Aziraphale WOULD try to make you learn a dead language and he’d go about it in a vaguely threatening way (comment from op, you’re so fucking right dude. also, shit like this is made for clowning, i’m with you 100%)

When choosing a demon aspect for a Aziraphale, I usually tried to keep in mind the artistic tradition of which animals are linked with demons. The Good Omens team seems to have drawn inspiration from that source because all the animals we do see are either reptilian or insectoid. Those species were often shown inhabiting hellish landscapes in Renaissance and Baroque paintings. However, Aziraphale never struck me as cold or slimy or hard like an exoskeleton. So if I had to choose an insect, it would be a moth, preferably a Megalopygidae, also known as the Flannel Moth. They are fluffy, white-beige and look innocent and fluffy, but their larvae can cause painful inflammations. A poodle moth would also fit because it's almost pure white.

Ok so the only reason I pick magpie is because those bastards are smart as hell but also know how and when to inconvenience the shit out of you, and if you gain their trust then they're absolute darlings but if they decide "nah, dont like ya" then you're basically done and you'll wake up every morning with shit on your car window. I also chose sheep/ram cuz I mean... idk it suits him. I don't remember my other choice but I'm sure I had a good reason.

I feel like a barn owl would suit him well but I'm not really sure why, I also think that a moth would suit him really well because of the whole "moth to a flame" thing and as a demon he would have gotten burned because of that attitude.

I write a reverse AU fic called Lambs to the Slaughter where Aziraphale's demonic aspect is an albino sheep! I imagine him as a mix between a wild Argali ram and the first woolly domestics. I chose an Argali because they're the largest species of wild sheep, but I wanted him to have traits of a domestic breed because he obtains his animal aspect from a sheep in Abel's flock which would be several generations down from the original wild species in Eden. I really think a sheep suits Aziraphale! They're an incredibly common animal and have been since they were first domesticated. Likewise, since the start of human history, Aziraphale has been living side-by-side with humans, providing for them, and protecting them. Due to how common they are, sheep are often unnoticed, which Aziraphale leans into. Crowley wants to stand out. He has a dedicated aesthetic and an obsession with human invention, where Aziraphale leans more towards simpler, known things and creature comforts. He fades into the background, and that suits him fine. He doesn't have to be outstanding to Heaven or to humans or even to Crowley -- it's enough to do his part, to trust in a bigger plan. People associate sheep (especially lambs) with innocence or ignorance which foils nicely to Crowley as the serpent tempting with knowledge, as well as with Aziraphale's own sharp mind and ongoing embers of faith in a system that is failing him, Crowley, and all of humanity. Sheep are, like Aziraphale, soft, cute, and hiding a hard-headed stubbornness and a surprising strength that makes them absolutely fearsome. Aziraphale is very much the sort to put his head down and push relentlessly forward regardless of the pressure and strain. Rams in particular have thick skulls to withstand the brutal force of headbutting one another in displays of dominance. While Aziraphale is clever, he's not above rolling up his sleeves and getting the job done, as messy and unpleasant as it might be (see: pulling a gun on the Antichrist). Also sheep are associated with Pan, a god associated with food, music, theatre, and the criticism thereof, which hit many of Aziraphale's personal interests and hobbies! I like the idea that in a reverse AU, the demon formerly named Aziraphale might be the original basis for Pan!

I wrote in Orangutan for the first question because if I remember correctly they are some of the most violent apes. Although I'd accept bonobo for him too. They fuck alll the time.

mothman aziraphale,,,,, thats it

Snowy owl, speremint's tortoise, and I just adore the goat.

moth - dusty and eats books

Long Furby the way Loni-Capri draws it.

I keep thinking about that Black Philip quote "doest thou wish to live deliciously" because... it fits so much with the general epicurean/hedonism vibe the Fandom has for him ... but in a demonic way and also I think a lot abt that art piece (already referenced many times probably but what the hell) of him climbing his own bookshelves, it's just so good!!

Albino Lion/white lion (matches his hair).  I feel like maybe I should explain why I think Lion would fit him best, lol. Lions actually are rather sedate, inactive for 20 hours of the day (see: Aziraphale reading and unmoving- yes I pulled wiki for this to make sure I didn't spout anything terribly wrong, shhh)  but also there's nomad lions. Lions that range widely and move around sporadically either alone or in pairs (*looks at Crowley after apoconope*) (pairs are more frequent among males who have been excluded from their birth pride)  but also I think of lions as protectors, defenders, and what is Aziraphale if not that? If not an angel who fiercely protects humans, crowley, earth? (When he finally overcomes heaven and it's abuse) lions don't hunt unless they're hungry, don't attack unless they're defending. They've been known to sit directly next to jeeps full of people and just watch them, not attacking or being aggresive.

I saw art once (I have no idea who the artist is) of Demon!Aziraphale climbing his bookcases like a goat and absentmindedly chewing on his sweater while he reads. I felt like the goat aspect suited him perfectly.

Honestly I wrote Az with a rat aspect because, well, it fits who I see demon Az as. He's not super powerful but he is very consequential, like rats carrying plague fleas (this also describes how I see Az tempting). He tries to blend into a crowd, which is arguably one way rats survive, and can get himself into places/situations that should be impossible or super difficult. Like snakes, rats have been unfairly maligned by our culture for a long time, even though they are very social with their colonies, smart, affectionate, and generally good beans. Finally, male pet rats are known far and wide as the lazier of the sexes while the girls are super curious and adventurous.

Somehow his tartan pattern becomes either his colour scheme or his coat/feather pattern.

Eurasian eagle owl. A big, unapologetic grump of an owl that is soft as soft can be underneath. Possessor of the glare to end all glares to be used in such dire situations as being interrupted when reading or being told one has "had enough cake".

[hiraemy]

dear dream

“After spending half of your life with your crackhead friends, the last year of highschool finally pounds on your door. At first, you’re more than eager to finally finish school without regrets, but as the year comes to an end, you realize that you’re running out of time.”

tags:  fluff, comedy, a bit of angst, 7dream assemble, highschool!au, bestfriends!au, a lot of references to HSM, Camp Rock, MCU, disney animations, and Naruto (you don't have to know all of them, those are just extras)

warnings: a lot of swearing, drinking, shitty past relationships, mentions of mental problems, implied parents issues

word count: 25,5k

10 Months Until Graduation

“I’m sad and lonely, can someone please—  “ 

“No.” Renjun interrupts you, not even letting you finish your sentence. You pout, showing him your best puppy face and your cringiest aegyo, but he doesn’t bat an eyelash, already used with your bullshit “For fucks’ sake, what is it?” 

“I need human contact. 'had a sad, depressing thought last night.” You whine, dramatically leaning your head on his shoulder and making a scene. Renjun doesn’t waste a second before pushing you off him, and you just sulk around for the sake of drama. "I'm going to die as a single cat-lady"

“And? I like being single, and I also like cats, so I don't see the problem here” Jeno pops his tongue out, trying really hard to open the kimchi jar his mom packed for him. You blink twice at that, but you decide to not question why the fuck Jeno has a big jar of kimchi to eat at 9 fucking am, preferring to focus on your issue. "There's more important things to think than getting laid. Exams and Basketball, for example,"

"I disagree, but do your best" Donghyuck mocks him, fake saluting as he takes a bite of meat in his mouth.

"I don't see why you're making a scene" Renjun groans, also taking the time between bites of food to voice his opinion "It's just high school. You'll have an awfully long time to find your destined one later on life. They say that high school relationships never last long anyway,"

“First of all, fuck you Renjun,” You narrow your eyes at him, the male snickering amusedly at you, making you roll your eyes. “C’mon, guys. It’s senior year, there’s prom! I just realized no guy in this school will have the guts to invite me because of my fuckin’ ex and all of you"

"Why are you blaming us?" Jaemin asks, quite bewildered. You shrug at him.

"Dunno. Why don't you tell me? I don't understand how the male species work!" You roll your eyes, poking your vegetables with your chopsticks, but not making any move to take them to your mouth. "Just heard some guys in the tennis club sayin' that the expectation bar was too high because I hang out with you. It doesn't even make sense, what the fuck?!"

"I still don't see how your love life problems involves us—" Renjun chips, drinking his juice.

"You guys do know that you have to invite someone, right?” You wriggle your eyebrows at them, grinning like a mad woman. 

“Not going to invite you.” Hyuck immediately deadpans and you roll your eyes at him

“Ew! Are you insane? I’m not going with you— That’s, like, incest!” You pretend to vomit, scrunching your face. "I'm not asking any of you to invite me. I'm just saying that, if I don't get a date to prom, I'm going to concentrate all of my efforts on getting y'all a date!"

"Ten bucks says you'll forget about this plan in less than two months" Jisung raises his eyebrows and you gasp dramatically at him

"I'll give her five weeks" Chenle grins and you also give him your best betrayal look. “Well, Jisung and I are going together anyway, since we're not actually seniors—” Chenle announces, exchanging looks with the younger one and crossing their arms in the most bro-way possible. "By the way, how are we going to sneak in?"

You try to ignore them for the sake of your sanity and you narrow your eyes at the rest of the group, half-expecting them to say something.

“Chill, we have more than half of the year to get a pair.” Mark says with his mouth full of watermelon, making you crunch your face in disgust at him. 

“Why are you so obsessed with prom anyways? It's not, let's say, mandatory to every girl to have someone to escort them to the party. It won't be a big deal if you go alone” Jaemin shrugs and you glare at him

"It's not about having a date to prom. The point is, we're graduating! We have to make it special, right? A night to remember, the night of all nights and everything! We're ending highschool—"

“If we pass, which is not easy as you sound—” Mark shivers, but you ignore him for sake of your speech

"...and we have to make it special! So, I'm getting y'all dates to prom!"

“Can I quit?”

“Shut up Injunnie. And no, you can’t”

9 Months Until Graduation

It’s a sunny, tiring day. You’d gone through two tests today, one in chemistry and another in physics, and you were sure you’d failed both of them. You and the rest of the squad go to a nearby coffee shop, your mind still working non-stop in a foolproof plan for setting up your friends with someone, lowkey feeling bitter about Chenle, who was right saying you were almost giving up in less than five weeks.

You realized too late that your friends were hopeless when it came to their love lives. You tried playing cupid, but no one was successful, except for Donghyuck, who had a notorious reputation of being a fuckboy. Jisung was too shy to even talk to the girl. Chenle had absolutely no chill, treating the girl in a bro way. Jaemin was lowkey rumored to be gay because of the way he interacted with Jeno, and those rumors made no one take you seriously when you asked to go on a date with him. Jeno’s love was clearly limited to his three cats, Bongshik, Seol and Lal. Renjun didn’t even try. 

So, in summary, Mark was your last hope.

"Go ahead, she’s single" You said, pointing to a pretty girl that was in the waiting line for her iced tea. Mark awkwardly stood up from your table, moving almost like a robot to talk to her.

“So… Sooyoung, right?” His face is a mix of embarrassment, cringiness and fake confidence as he leans on the wall awkwardly, trying for the cool guy image but doing poorly on it. The girl is confused and takes a few steps back, slightly creeped out.

“Hmnn, no? I’m actually Soyeon, but nice try, I guess...”

Donghyuck had his fist stuffed into his mouth trying to conceal his snorts. Jeno and Renjun had curled into themselves, heads buried in their arms, hiding behind the backs of two unsuspecting girls on the table ahead of them. Jaemin was smiling openly, whispering new ideas, while you try to suppress a giggle behind your hand. Chenle’s rich ass is recording everything in his iPhone 11 Pro Max with 512GB, making sure he captures everything in the highest quality possible— even if all of you know it will be blurry in the end, because he keeps giggling and his hand is shaking—  and Jisung is half amused, half cringing at all the judging stares they’re receiving from everyone else in the store.

“Oh, yeah, right, Soyeon, totally knew that, hahah!” Mark’s glare turns back to your table and sends a middle finger behind his back, and everyone loses their mind. He messes with his hair, trying really hard to not cringe as he speaks the next sentence. “So...  I’velostmyphonenumbercanIhaveyours— ”

“What?” Soyeon frowns and Mark turns so red that Jeno chokes on his own saliva and Donghyuck has to muffle his laughter on his hoodie. Renjun pokes you and points towards his phone, who has Jaemin’s contact on it. The other boy is messing with his settings, changing his ring tone and putting on the loudest volume possible. He gives Renjun a thumbs up, exchanging a smirk with him.

“I’ve lost my phone number, can I have yours instead?” The poor boy manages to say, regretting all of his life choices. In that exact moment, Renjun presses the call button,

“Hey, I just met you, and this is crazy~ But here’s my number— ”

Call Me Maybe blasts off as Jaemin’s ringtone making everyone crack up, even Soyeon, who seems to understand the situation in the moment your squad— aka, mainly you, Donghyuck, Chenle and Renjun, — falls to the ground howling. She glances at your group and gives a peace sign to Chenle's camera(that now was in Jisung's hold), amused as fuck. She gives Mark a pity pat on the back and leaves him behind with slumped shoulders.

“I hate y’all” He says as he comes back to your table, sitting next to you and burying his head between his arms. You give him a pat on the head, smiling slightly.

“Well, at least that was funny” You tease, sipping on your iced cappuccino. “Never thought I would see someone being more awkward than Jisungie when it comes to speaking with girls, what the fuck”

“Sooyoung, right?” Renjun mocks, not bothering to hide his cackles. Jaemin mimics a disgusted expression, putting his hand on his chest 

“My name is Soyeon! How dare you?!” He overreacts, slapping Renjun’s shoulder sassily. You laugh as Mark’s nose scrunches painfully

“It’s not my fault!” Mark whines, cheeks red. You sigh, shaking your head. Again, your friends were hopeless after all.

“I give up,” You admit bitterly, pouting when Chenle smirks. He extends his hands to both you and Jisung, wriggling his fingers quite cocklily. Both of you groan as you give him a ten dollars bill each. 

8 Months Until Graduation

You don’t know how the fuck things turned out this way. At first glance, it was one of those days where you’d think that nothing could go wrong— and that’s exactly when everything went to shit. 

You were okay until now, it had been a long time since one of your ex-friends wasted their time spreading rumors about you. But today, at least half of the entire school was somehow convinced that you were some kind of child problem who raided innocent convenience stores? 

Donghyuck was also in deep shit. He had this fling going on with some girl you didn’t know personally, and he was really interested in making things serious with her, something that wasn’t very common to happen in his fuckboy life. Then, karma came kicking his butt, the girl saying she didn‘t want to have any serious relationship right now.

Jisung was lowkey in one of his bad days, when he’d let mean comments get into him. This time, he was feeling bad about the boys in his and Chenle’s class, the assholes ones. In general, Jisung was a shy kid, so the other kids took that as an advantage to make fun of him behind his back, and today, they messed with his lunch box when he wasn’t looking. 

You don’t know who suggested it, but at the end of the day, all eight of you were buried under the blankets in your house. You pushed the sofas to the wall, leaving enough space between the couches and tv to lay down mattresses in the floor. Chenle bought enough snacks for all of you, including McDonalds fries for Jisung, and Haribo gummy bears for you. 

Avengers Endgame was playing on the big screen, a classic that you’d watched and cried a million times before, being a great fan of the MCU and the greatest Iron Man agenda between your friends, who were all Captain America supporters, except for Donghyuck, who was your only ally in this war. 

Talking about Donghyuck, the boy was feeling especially cuddly tonight. He convinced Renjun to lay down on the couch with him, but both of them were fighting constantly to see who was going to be the big spoon (Renjun won). Jisung and Chenle were sitting down on the mattress, with their backs also on the couch, taking their sweet time with the food Chenle had bought. They weren’t paying that much attention to the movie, but rather, making fun of Renjun and Donghyuck arguing. Jaemin and Jeno took over another couch, and the pink haired boy had his legs all spread over Jeno’s lap without a care in the world. Jeno didn’t seem to mind that, tapping rhythmically on Jaemin’s knee while paying attention to the movie. You and Mark were laying on the mattress, at some point, you had asked him to cuddle as you were lowkey feeling needy for human contact. 

Welp, no one can be a cold hearted bitch for too long, you thought amusedly.

The mess of limbs was strangely comforting. You had your back pressed against his chest, his arms wrapping around you firmly, keeping you close enough for you to feel his muscles moving when he took a deep breath. For a moment you wondered if his arm that was under you didn’t feel numb because of your weight, but you didn’t ask, as Mark never voiced a complaint about that.

"Y'know, I lowkey feel like you're the Black Widow of our group," Mark whispers as the camera zooms on the red haired woman's worn out state in the Vormir planet. You blink slowly, confused, turning your entire body to face him, adjusting your position, so now you can snuggle into his warmth, your hands slowly finding a good spot to rest in his back.

"But she’s the one that dies in the end? Are you implying that I’m gonna die?" You tease, smiling at how Mark quickly becomes flustered. 

"That’s not what I meant!" He whines, playfully pinching a bit of your skin. "It's just that you share a lot of things. Like, she dies for the sake of her family—"

"Yeah, she still dies. Am I supposed to be flattered by that?"

"Oh god, shut up and let me finish" He groans, the muscles on his neck moving with the deep sound he lets out of his throat. You try to not focus too much on that, concentrated at how his face muscles move at each unique expression he makes. "Natasha is one hell of a woman, no one can deny that. She's strong and badass, and sometimes, her humor actually reminds me of you? The part when she dies, she is sacrificing herself for the soul stone and for all of her friends-slash-family, because she wants all of them back, even if she doesn't know if the plan is going to work out in the end"

"Hmm, that's true" You hum in agreement, raising your eyebrow questiongly. "But I still don't get how you think we look alike. Except for being the only female in a group full of testosterone, of course,"

"You're pretty, strong and badass." Mark says, as if stating the obvious. You feel your heart beating faster, being your turn to feel flustered with his straightforwardness. "And I think you would be a team player too, the type of person to go to that extent to save everyone else, to put a hundred percent of faith in your family just like that" 

"Wow," You chuckle nervously, looking away for a moment to recover your posture. You fake a cough on your fist, staring at the screen— That’s the exact scene where Natasha's sacrifice happens, the beautiful scenario and its color palette stunning you for a single second. Then, you remember that you’re still talking to Mark in hushed whispers to not annoy anyone else, and he half-expected you to continue the debate. "Hmmm, If I’m Natasha Romanoff, I guess you would be Peter Parker, then?" 

"Why?" His eyes shine with curiosity at your words, and you can't help but to feel lured in his gaze, almost as if he was some time of magnet you couldn’t take your eyes off.

"You're almost the real life version of him," You let out a tiny chuckle, impressed with your own analogy. "You're both nerds, awkward as fuck, but still a sweet and pretty good looking bastard— Like, how the hell can you get the best of the two worlds? Being handsome and smart at the same time, that's like, cheating, but in real life" You complain pettily, pretending to be upset just for the sake of drama. 

Mark smiles, and you’re shy enough to let the topic die just like that. You turn around  again, thanking the gods that the room was dark, so no one could see the color difference in your heated cheeks. His hands never leave your waist, and you feel safer than ever in his arms. 

"Are the babies asleep?" Jaemin asks after the post credits scene finishes, the black screen of the tv staring back at them.

"Chenle and Jisung passed out before the Battle of Earth, pussies" Renjun teases, taking the opportunity to jab freely at the unsuspecting boys. He looks at you and Mark, both of you in deep slumber in each other's arms. "Awww, how cute. I'm going to puke, but it's worth it"

"Indeed" Jeno nods, smirking at your peaceful expression. Mark moves around his head and groans, making the four awake boys tense up, afraid of the older waking up. He mutters something incomprehensible under his breath, but quickly settles in burying his nose on your hair, making everyone let out relieved sighs.

"Well, now that the babies are all asleep, it's time for us to watch some real grown man stuff" Donghyuck states, taking the tv remote on his hand.

"Are we going to watch Frozen or Tangled?"

"Tangled, what type of guy do you think I am?"

7 Months Until Graduation

“I’m going to die!” Donghyuck cries dramatically, shaking you by your shoulders and you just let him do whatever he wants, your head bouncing to every direction possible without resistance, soul almost dead at this point. “I’m going to be crushed— Oh dear lord, please, save me from being stomped by giants on court—”

“Oh shut the fuck up, no one has ever died playing basketball” Renjun sasses him. Renjun would never admit, not even on his deathbed, but he was also scared shitless of the players of Busan High.

He was pretty sure he had a clear reason to be intimidated, after all. One of the players was almost 2m, and at least four of their team had over 185cm. As if that wasn’t enough, they were built like titans, not resembling high schoolers at slightest.

“Is this fucking anime?” You couldn’t help but hiss, making people laugh at the bitter tone you had. While Busan’s players were all damn trees, Jeno, Donghyuck and Chenle were at the average height for teenagers— something between 170 and 175. The only member on their team that was above 180 was Yukhei and some another freshman that was almost 190 or something, but that freshman wasn't exactly on the good side of the ability spectrum, so he was pretty useless.

“Think positive” Everyone turned to Mark, waiting for him to finish his sentence. He scrunched his nose and seemed to think hard, trying to come up with an excuse “If everything goes to shit, you can sub Renjun in. A great strategy if you were to ask me, because they won’t notice him running between their long ass legs!” He grins proudly at the reactions, being successful at helping their friends to relax before the game. His bliss barely lasted three seconds before Renjun had him in a chokehold, making everyone burst out laughing again.

“Being serious, now,” Jeno’s face morphed to an early defeat with a heavy sigh “I doubt we’ll be able to do something against them. Height is a big advantage in basket. They also say that Busan are the favourites to win the championship, so we're in deep shit”

The changing room was in a tense silence at his words, everyone silently agreeing with him and not quite knowing what to say as comfort. 

"You could say this is a championshit— Ah, Park Jisung, why did you hit me?!"

"That was absolutely horrible, even for you" The younger one grimaces, while Chenle rubs his shoulder, the grin on his face unwavering despite the disapproval of the pun. You were in deep thought, until you suddenly gasp and clap your hands, expression lighting up as having a great idea.

“Let’s dye our hair!”

“Suddenly?” Donghyuck raises his eyebrows, but you just smile at him

“No, no! I’m being serious!” You say proudly, closed fist hitting your open palm “Let’s make a bet! If you guys win, I’ll let you do whatever you want with my hair— dye it the most ridiculous color to ever exist, make me bald or shave one of the sides— you can choose, I don't really care!”

"You already want to do it, there is no point in betting on that" Renjun deadpans. You prompily ignore him.

“Actually, I think that’s a good idea—”

“Great! Jaemin will also do it with me!”

“What?! I never said anything—” He protests indignantly. You give him a smug peace sign

“Ya, hyung is screwed~!”

“Oh, am I hearing right? Our Jisungie will also do it for the sake of the team? What a cutie!” You tease him in aegyo, making it extremely cringy as your fingertips poke him from the sides.

“Cutie? Ha, never in a million years—”

“Ah, Injunnie, no need to be shy! We all know you also want to do this~!”

“Ah, shit—”

Before you could trap Mark into dying his hair, the manager from the basket team came into the room searching for the three missing players. Donghyuck, Chenle and Jeno stood up from the bench and were about to leave, before Mark called up to them, silently pleading with the girl to give him more time. She sighs heavily and nods, lifting three fingers to wordlessly say that you had three minutes.

“Hey, come here for a second~” He said cheekly, forcing everyone to form a circle and join hands in the middle “Let’s cheer up, will ya? Nothing is lost until the very end as long you have hope. You guys can win, believe it"

"Is this Naruto or something?" You joke, raising your eyebrow and high pitching your voice "I'm gOiNg tO bE hOkaGe, BeLieVe it!" The boys laugh at your impersonation as you made a hand sign for the sake of anime weeb antics

“Stop that, I’m being serious!” Mark whines, nudging you slightly on the shoulder.

“Hyung, are you daydreaming?” Chenle deadpans and everyone bursts into laughs again 

“Maybe? Dreaming or not, I still believe in you—” He sighs in defeat "...dattebayo."

“That’s cheesy” Donghyuck teases, his face reveals how touched he actually is. 

“That’s cringy as hell, but lowkey heartwarming. How the fuck?” Jeno is exasperated. “Fuck it. Our dear Lee Markie took the precious time of day to bless us with this amazing and inspiring Naruto speech, so, daydreaming or not, let's win this shit, dattebayo!” Jeno laughs with his whole chest and we all cheer.

"By the way, if we actually win, you're going bald" Donghyuck nudges you, making you whine dramatically. “A bet is a bet. No backing down, pussy”

“Ha, as if!”

"Hm— Three minutes are up, can you please, wrap this up?" You tilt your head to see the manager, awkwardly standing on the door. She seems uncomfortable interrupting your group moment, so you take pity on her and gather everyone’s attention on you again.

"Alright~ Let's do a cheer" You say you stand up, closing your fist and motioning to everyone to form a circle. "What are we going to say? Team 7? Konoha Ninjas? Ninja Alliance? Or maybe we can do something like Wildcats? Like, from High School Musical—"

"Hell no!" They groan and you giggle satisfied with their reactions. Chenle mutters his suggestion quite hesitantly "Well, if we're aiming to win, let's do this properly. So, how about Dream? Because we're being highly illusional, or whatever—"

"I like that" Jeno encourages him, putting his arm around Chenle's shoulders reassuringly. He sends a look to Mark, eyes turning into crescent moons “Hyung, you can do the honors~”

“Alright, let's wreck this shit. Yo, Dream!”

“Jjeoreo! Juja! Fighting!”

“Am I allowed to reference High School Musical 3 now?” You ask no one in particular, although Mark, Jisung and Renjun all let out a groan at your antics. Jaemin just chuckles, amused. "This is just too perfect to let it pass without any references. Senior year, tense basketball game and everything. We just need someone to dramatically shout some encouragement out of nowhere"

"Are you going to suddenly sing Now or Never?" Jaemin teases, but he instantly regrets when he sees the look on your eyes. "Wait, shit, don't do that!"

"Why? It's a great idea!" You whine, smiling. Your voice is drowned by the screams and cheers, but you still hum to yourself as you watch the fast-speed plays in court “This is the last time to get it right, this is the last time to make it all night—”

“First of all, you got it wrong. It’s this is the last time to make it or not, not all night. If you’re going to sing this shit, at least do it right” Jaemin scolds lightheartedly and you pout at him, sticking your tongue childishly

“Whatever— Oh, NICEEEE CHENLE!" You suddenly scream at the top of your lungs, also hearing the boys screaming excitedly with his successful basket. After that, Jeno made an awesome steal that made the crowd roar again, passing it to Hyuck, who scored a 3-pointer. Everything was great until Chenle was knocked back harshly by the 2 meters guy, falling on his back into the ground.

You swore loudly, worry consuming you, but Chenle was okay. He got up with Yukhei offering him his hand and the referee gave the team two free throws, which were the points you needed to tie with Busan High.

"Quick, Jisung, you have to stand up and shout Troooooooy!” You nudge his side, teasing him now that you were reassured that Chenle was fine. Jisung looks at you startled, caught off guard. "C'mon, think of that as public demonstration of love for your bestest friend in the entire world—"

"No way" He shook his head, cheeks burning. You chuckle, deciding to take that task for yourself.

“Chenleeee!” You scream in a singing tone, making everyone around you turn their heads. You see the boy squeezing his eyes through the benchers, trying to find where that came from, until he found you and let out a snort of amusement. You’re satisfied when he gives you a thumbs up, even more when Renjun hides his face behind Mark’s back, extremely ashamed of being friends with you.

Even if you made your friends want to lowkey kill you on the spot, you still sang loudly Gabriella’s part everytime Jeno, Chenle or Donghyuck got a free throw in game, which gladly weren't that much. It didn’t matter if your friends had second-hand embarrassment, because in the end, everyone else was extremely amused for your antics. Also, they crushed the Busan team. 106 - 94.

Ps: you were almost sure the school’s cheerleaders also sang with you a few times, chanting WILDCATS as a joke, but Renjun refuses to believe in you. 

6 Months Until Graduation

“We’re really doing this, huh” Jisung cringed at the volume of bleach sitting on the pot, sniffing it and scrunching his nose at the horrible scent. “Hey, Chenle, smell this”

“Why— OH GOD! Park Jisung what is that—”

“I didn’t think you would keep the bet, if I’m being honest” Jeno admitted and you just laughed, taking the coloured dyes out of their boxes

“Nah~ This was a win-win situation for me. I always wanted to dye my hair, and now I have an excuse to do it without anyone coming for my ass!” You say smugly, smirking satisfied as you put all the bottles on the table. 

“By the way, where are your parents?” Mark worries and you try very hard to not grimace, heading into the bathroom to properly prepare the dyes and hiding your expression from view for a few seconds. Your eyes are fully concentrated on the task, so you don’t notice that Mark can see your expression by the mirror.

“They’re out, again. Some meeting in Kyoto or something— I don’t know. But we have the house to ourselves, so it’s okay.” You say it nonchalantly, even if it’s fairly obvious that you actually care about not having your parents here. Before Mark or Jeno can say anything about it, you give them a big smile, passing by them and returning to your bedroom, where everyone is messing around “The bleach is ready! Who wants to go first?”

“Me!” Chenle shouts, jumping in a plastic chair you placed in the middle of the room, with a journal already covering the floor and a towel on his shoulders. You smile tenderly at him, running your gloved hands through his hair and imagining yourself washing his scalp— except for the fact that you had bleach, not shampoo on your hands. You were really counting on the youtube tutorials for this one

“I bought every single color I could find on the shop” You giggle, trying really hard to not forget any step, but also paying attention to Renjun and Donghyuck bickering to decide what game they were going to play on your tv. “What color do you want, Lele?”

“Injun-ah, we’re all tired of playing Overwatch~ Let’s play Just Dance for once~!”

“Are you out of your mind? How can we put that if you all will dye your hair—! The dye will just fly around!”

“Green” Chenle replies with a shit eating grin, ignoring all the noise that the duo were producing “They say, go big or go home, right?”

“Well, technically, we’re in my home already, so—”

“You know what I meant!” You snicker at him, smiling like a proud parent for some random reason. 

“I’m going for pink!” Jaemin decides all of sudden, taking the pink bottle in his hand and messing with it. You gasp dramatically and hit his hand, forgetting that you have bleach on your gloves and making a small splash on his skin

“No, no, crap, you’ll drop it—!” You scold him, scarred for life, and you take the open bottle from his hands, seeing that the few seconds were enough to make a big pink stain on Jaemin’s hands. You sigh like a tired mother

“I know I don’t need to, but now I also want to dye my hair!” Donghyuck pouts, eyeing the bleach on Chenle’s hair as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world. Chenle sends the older boy finger guns, winking smugly.

“Do we have enough bleach for extras?” Jeno asks and you nod, already wrapping aluminum paper on Chenle “This is dumb, and I’m propably going to regret it tomorrow— but screw it, I want blonde.”

“Okay, okay.” You agree, internally screaming, because your hands were going to suffer bleaching everyone’s hair, including yours. “Mark, put something on your phone?” 

“What kind of vibe do you want?” He asks in return. You hum, distracted by the sounds of Call of Duty on the tv, the controller in Renjun and Jaemin’s hands. 

“Dunno. Your call,” Is your response. Since you’re not facing him, you don’t see Mark sending you a shit eating grin before he decides on a playlist.

It’s not long before We’re All In This Together is blasting on your room, the most iconic and cheesy song possible, and you can’t say that you hate it. As Jisung and Donghyuck try to remember the original choreo, accidentally slapping each other in the process, the rest of you scream the lyrics on the top of your lungs, and for a moment, it seems like the world’s problems don't exist inside of your house.

For once in a long time, your house finally feels like home.

 (Chenle and Jisung decide later to try to make a cover of Breaking Free— Jisung as Gabriella, of course, and the charming Chenle Bolton with aluminum paper on his hair. It went viral on your Instagram, thanks, Chenji!)

5 Months Until Graduation

“Would you rather have no ears or no fingers?”

“Totally no ears!” Jaemin giggles, his fingers itching in the air and pinching Jeno’s cheeks with affection “If I didn’t have my fingers~~~I! Wouldn’t! Do! This!”

You choke on your spit, laughing your ass off at the state of Jaemin, his messy pink hair shining a different tone with every light of the party. He was long ago drunk and you and Jeno had to take care of him while everyone else wandered around some random guy’s party. Jung Taehyun? Jeon Taeyeon? You didn’t know exactly his name, but you knew that he was an older friend of Mark.

“Nono~~ y/n~~ You guys know I love you~~ right?” Jaemin whined, giving up on standing still and plopping down on top of Jeno. The sober male sighed and gave a few pats on Jaemin’s back, already tired. You couldn’t stop your laughter and he flipped you off, continuing to sip your drink giddily. You were careful to not be completely drunk, tho.

“Wait a second, it’s that Renjun?” Jeno asks, pointing to a spot far from you three. You squint your eyes and you confirm that yes, it was Huang Renjunnie making out with some girl you didn’t recognise in the middle of the dance floor.

“Junnie? Whaaaat. Where? I can’t see himmmm~”

“Holy fucking shit” You grin like a madwoman, ignoring Jaemin’s frustrated whines and you cup your hands around your mouth “Yo! Renjunnie! Let's! Get! It!” You scream, even if you know no one will hear you because of the heavy bass. You laugh and take a sip of your drink, extremely amused with yourself.

“I’m going to puke…” Jaemin chokes out and you blink in alarm. Jeno sighs and puts Jaemin’s arms around his shoulders, supporting almost all of his weight and standing from the bar with a bit of difficulty.

“I think it’s time to go home, Jaemin-ah” He states, already moving. You follow both of them, catching Jaemin’s phone that he almost forgot behind and putting it in your jeans’ pocket. 

“No! But I’m having fun here~~ I don’t want to go home” He whines, pouting, and you chuckle at his aegyo, making funny faces at the back of his head just for the fun of it

“Chenle and Jisung texted me, they already went home” You speak, cringing at the brightness of your phone when you unlock it. “Mark and Hyuck said before that they were going to crash somewhere, I just don’t remember where. And Renjunnie is having fun~ Not going to interrupt that!”

“Just text him. He’s sober, so it won’t be a problem” Jeno says and you agree “Jaemin, do you think you can hold it for a while? The puke, I mean,”

“Maybe. Maybe yes, maybe no—” Jaemin almost crashes with a random stranger, and you cringe, saying sorry before rushing both of them to the exit

“Very helpful” Jeno deadpans and Jaemin chuckles dreamily. You smile and open your mouth to say something, just to be suddenly startled by a hand on your shoulder

“y/n? Is that you?” You freeze at the voice, grin vanishing off your face. You turn around with a blank expression to meet Hyunjin, his eyes glinting with so much hope that your heart was crushed in a single second.

Jeno notices that you’ve stopped moving, turning around and grimacing at the sight of the other boy. All of the previous cheerfulness disappears from his face in milliseconds, and you can’t say that you don’t share the sentiment. 

“Wow— You look really good tonight” Hyunjin says, eyeing your exposed legs, and you roll your eyes, suppressing the urge to slap his beautiful face

“Yeah, I know” You fire back sassily, glaring at him and trying really hard to not let your real emotions show on your expression. Your chest squeezes painfully at the sight of your ex-boyfriend, and all you want to do at this moment is to cry and shout all your pent-up frustrations at him, but your voice is lost somewhere deep in your throat.

“Blue hair looks good on you” Hyunjin compliments after a few awkward seconds of silence, not even intimidated by Jeno’s glare and your clear discomfort, never ceasing eye-contact. His hand comes closer and cups a lock of your hair, admiring the blue, almost purple shade, and you falter slightly as he pushes it behind your ear.

Deep down, you hope that Hyunjin can see what he has done to you. You hope that he can see the mix of anger, betrayal, heartbreak, disappointment and pain in your eyes. You hope that he knows every seed self-doubt he has planted in your chest since the two of you broke up last year, and that he feels guilty for every painful word thrown on you.

But you also hope for things that you know aren’t right. You search in his dark eyes for something— anything that could convince yourself he still loved you, that he knew what went wrong last time. Even if you passed half of last year crying and moping around the corridors, forcing your friends to give a long pep talk to assure your self-worth every two weeks, ten seconds of eye contact with your ex were enough to break down long eight months of healing, resurfacing old wounds in your heart. 

“Y/n, let’s go” Jeno calls you, breaking the magic between you and Hyunjin. You sigh, reality crashing on you like a heavy, unforgivable truck. You push his hand away quite harshly and bite your lips, already feeling the familiar burn of tears in the back of your eyes. 

“Yeah, right. Sorry.” You mumble under your breath, not sparing Hyunjin a second glance and turning around to the exit, following Jeno with a heavy heart. 

You find a sealed can of beer on top of a coffee table and you scoff, taking it without second thoughts.  

“Fuck, I’m not drunk enough to deal with this shit”

You open the backdoor of Jeno’s car and you help him set Jaemin in the backseat, both of you ignoring the pink haired boy’s drunk whines and protests as you let him lay down with his head on your lap. You also ignore the lightheadedness caused by the alcohol that you consumed and the worried glances Jeno throws you every fifteen seconds. You know that he has good intentions, but you can’t help but to feel overwhelmed with everything— it’s not like you were going to break down any second now!

Okay, forget it. You don’t know if you can hold your tears until you arrive at home.

“Jaem, is auntie at home?” You ask, stroking the pink strands softly. He groans, burying his face on your belly

“Nooo… Don’t take me home… Mom will kill meeeee! She said last time that… if she catches me drunk again, she’s gonna...” He whines and closes his eyes. You wait for him to continue speaking, but it takes a few seconds for you to notice that Jaemin had fallen asleep on your lap.

“Can Jaemin crash into your house for tonight?” Jeno asks, looking at both of you through the mirror. You know that he is hesitant about bringing Jaemin to his own house because his parents are quite strict with drinking.

“Yeah, but I don’t know if I can carry him” You say without making eye contact, looking at the world outside the window. Your fingers make loops in Jaemin’s hair, almost like a nervous tick to ground you in reality. 

“Don’t worry about that, I’m helping you” He states, eyes focused on the road. You don’t notice his eyes looking at you every once in a while checking your facial expression, as your mind keeps backtracking to Hyunjin and your past relationship, along with all the hurtful words both of you exchanged when it ended.

Jeno lets out a sigh, adjusting his grip on the steering wheel and forcing himself to stop looking.

“No one is looking. You can cry now.”

4 Months Until Graduation

“y/n, the smartest and beautifulest person I have ever met—” Donghyuck speeds down the corridor, tacking you and grabbing your shoulders as if there is no tomorrow

“...what did you do?” You deadpan, not taking any of his bullshit. The boy straightens up and moves his neck to search something in the crowd of students that are in the corridor, sweating bullets

“You know Kang Mina, right? Pretty, cute, same biology class as you—”

“And Mark’s crush since middle school?” You add, raising an eyebrow and not really caring for the skinship, since it was usual between you and Hyuck.

“Yes, that one!” He whisper-shouts. “I heard from Seulgi, who heard from Joohyun, who was in the bathroom when Eunwoo and Nayeon were talking about Sejeong, who said—”

“What—”

“Kang Mina is going to confess to me!” You blink, trying to process the information.

“ ‘the fu— Wait, I thought Mina liked Mark back?” You’re open mouthed, the surprise showing clearly on your eyes. Hyuck nods, wanting to pull his hair off his scalp “Did you tell Mark?”

“No! What do you think I am?” He is almost offended, but you just shrug it off. “I don’t know what to do! I didn’t do anything, but Mark will kill me and—”

“Just dump her nicely, it’s not that hard” Donghyuck whines and shakes you again, making you dizzy

“But I don’t want her to confess!” He argues, saying as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “If she confesses, everyone will hear about the rumors— so, the solution it’s quite simple! If we can stop her before she finds me, we can—” Hyuck pauses, his eyes widening and seeing something above your head. “Oh my fucking god, Mina’s coming in this direction!” 

“Ah, Donghyuck, can I talk to you—” You hear her voice, a bit far, and you sigh as you feel a pair of eyes burning on your back. She’s pretty and a really good person in general, but you can’t help but pity her in this moment.

“Put your hands on my waist.” You whisper quickly under your breath and he nods. 

You raise yourself on your toe tips and catch Hyuck’s cheeks on your hands, trying to not cringe outwardly. You place a peck almost on the corner of his mouth, hearing a shocked gasp behind you, and you know that your plan worked. Based on the angle Mina was, she probably thought you were kissing him on the lips.

You’re quick to distance your body from his, disentangling your shoulders from his grasp and you sigh, lowkey feeling bad for the other girl. 

“Is she gone?” Just for the sake of the drama, you pretend to clean your lips from all traces of Hyuck, sticking your tongue out “Disgusting— Really, I thought I was kissing my grandma, what the fuck—”

“C’mon, I don’t kiss that badly~” Donghyuck whines and you narrow your eyes at him, noticing a bit of your lipstick on his face. 

“Shut up!” You made a move to slap him on the shoulder, but he barely moves out of the way, making you huff. “You’re owing me lunch”

“WHAT? But you’re loaded! Why do I have to pay~?”

“Jesus fucking christ—” Renjun plops down on your usual lunch table, dumping his bag on the bench without ceremony. 

“Injunnie, you’re not even christian” Donghyuck snickers, not bothering to swallow before talking. You make a face at that, but you don’t comment on his horrible manners

“Fuck that too. Why the hell is everyone saying that you two kissed in the corridors? And Mina’s name is on the rumors too, but I don’t get how the hell is she involved?” Hyuck chokes at Renjun’s words and you chuckle, deciding just to sip your tea peacefully and watch the drama unfold.

“Well, you see—” In that moment, Mark arrives, a puzzled and slightly annoyed expression on his face. Donghyuck panics even more at the sight of the older male, already planning his testament on his mind. You guess Mark heard what happened too.

“So, you two a thing now?” The canadian boy raises his eyebrow and you double over, fake puking with the absurdity of his suggestion.

“Oh god, please no. I may be single since last year, but I still have standards!” You whine, putting your hands on your chest feigning hurt. You notice Mark’s face changing and he’s not annoyed anymore, just confused. You don’t even know what caused that— It was almost as if he was relieved...?

“So why is everyone saying that you’re together?”

“That’s what I was asking too,” Renjun adds. You and Donghyuck exchange glances, and you shrug it off, silently saying that he should settle this mess on his own.

“Uh— I just needed help to solve something”

“Hi, I’m something~” You can’t help but tease, laughing obnoxiously loud. Hyuck shoves you slightly, but you don’t stop cackling “Relax, we didn’t kiss. I just took one for the team and did a self-sacrifice of my public reputation— By the way I’m a great actress, aint I?”

“No one thinks that,” Renjun deadpans and you pout. “Why the trouble, tho?” Hyuck sighs and you focus on him on the corner of your eye, wondering what he was going to say

“I’m sorry, bro” He decides to be fully honest with the oldest, who is confused as fuck. “Mina likes me and was going to confess. I panicked.”

Renjun is just surprised as you were when you first heard that. You carefully observe Mark’s reaction, expecting him to be angry or hurt, but he isn’t. He has an unreadable expression and just shrugs, shaking his head.

“Ah. It’s okay, I already knew.” You’re dumbfounded, eyes wide and mouth wide open. The other two have similar reactions to yours, and Mark chuckles at that. “I found out last year. Not gonna lie, it hurt like a bitch— But it’s okay now, I moved on” 

“Wow.” Hyuck looks half surprised, half pissed. “So all of the suffering I passed just to make sure you wouldn’t be mad was useless?”

“Yes?” You chuckle, amused. Donghyuck lets out a groan, dramatically falling on the table and Renjun smirks

“You’re a dumbass.” He snorts, making Hyuck whine. You cross eyes with Mark for a millisecond and you send him a smile, which is returned immediately.

“It’s not my fault that Mark fucking Lee doesn’t tell me things!” He cries out, sniffling. “Everything would be a lot easier if I didn’t have to run away from Kang Mina for the entire fucking day!”

“Well, in my defense, my pride was really hurt—” The canadian tries to defend himself, scowling 

“In your defense, I think you should shut up or I swear to god I’m gonna fucking kill you—” 

3 Months Until Graduation

It’s 11:27pm. You should be asleep at this time— or at least, ready to go to bed, but you don’t think you can sleep any time soon. Your gaze is fixed on the ceiling of the bedroom when you hear your phone ringing under your pillow. You stretch your hand blindly under the covers until you find it, not checking the caller before accepting it.

“Noona?” Jisung’s voice breaks the quiet of your house, and you’re immediately alarmed by his tone. It’s almost as if he’s tired, throat hoarse after crying for a long time. You know that tone very well.

“Hi…” You trail off softly, not knowing what to say. You hear a sniff form the other side, making your worry increase ten times.

“Can I come over? ...please?” He asks and you’re already out of your bed, the socks on your feet protecting the skin from the cold floor as you soflty agree.

Exactly seven minutes and forty three seconds after, Jisung arrives at your home. You furrow your eyebrows as you take in his light clothes and the cold weather outside. His nose is red and his eyes are puffy, the usually neat hair reduced to a bird nest. 

“What happened?” You urge him in, catching a fluffy blanket from the sofa to throw on his shoulders and forcing him to sit on your couch. “Where is your car? Where were you? Your house is too far to come here on foot, Jisung-ah!”

“I was at a park nearby, not at home” He mutters, head down. 

You purse your lips, deciding to shut up for now and give him space to think seeing as he doesn’t seem very comfortable to say anything for now. You go to the kitchen and come back quickly with a mug of warm milk and chocolate in your hands, which you give to him. You sit down beside him on the couch, turning on the tv and searching something on Netflix to put as background, while you wait patiently for him to open up. The film starts, and the soft piano music that plays in the start of Inside Out successfully manages to make Jisung relax a little bit.

“Do you look at someone and wonder,” You say simultaneously with the woman’s voice, wiggling your eyebrows playfully at Jisung.

“What’s going on inside their head?” The corner of his lips lift and he completes the sentence, his whole posture softer and slightly happier. You’re proud of his mood change, humming satisfied.

Three minutes into the movie and you hear a sigh escaping from Jisung’s lips. It’s a subtle gesture, but when he moves closer to lean his head on your shoulder, you know that he’s ready to talk. You lower the tv’s volume a bit, just enough to have it as background, but not disturbing your conversation.

“Are you going to forget me?” His voice is small as he speaks with hesitation, as if he fears saying out loud would make it become true.

“What do you mean, Jisungie?” You face him, not daring to point his childish choice of words. 

“In three months, you and the hyungs are all going to college. The next year, it will be Chenle and me, and then—” He chokes, tears staining down his face, and all of sudden you feel your heart break in a million pieces. “Are things going to change? Between us, I mean”

You fall silent at his words. As you think hard about what to say, you rub circles on Jisung’s back, as it is the only thing you can do to provide comfort for now.

“I don’t know, Jisungie…” You admit, sighing heavily as you feel the emotions growing on you. You don’t dare to actually cry, feeling that it would be extremely selfish of you to not be the stable one right now.

“You guys are all I have…” Jisung breaks down, sobbing, and you pull him in a tight hug, hiding your own face on top of his head. “I’m afraid— Noona, what’s gonna happen? Our paths are too different, are we going to depart?”

“I don’t know,” You start, the tap of your fingers creating a rhythm on the back of his head “We all have different dreams— for starters, Mark wants to pursue music. Renjun is going to do art. Jeno? Probably something along the lines of profissional basket. Hyuck is trying for Journalism, I think, and Jaemin is going to be a physician. I don’t think all of us can go to the same college, but that’s okay.” Jisung hiccups “No matter the distance, we’re under the same sea of stars every night. If someday, you feel lost, we’ll be here to guide you. We’ll be your compass and your lighthouse.”

He stays silent, and you make a lot of circles on his hair, tangling the blonde locks between your fingertips.

“There is a saying that I really treasure... Ohana means family. And family means—”

“...no one gets left behind or forgotten” 

“Yeah, that’s right” You let out a weak chuckle, “You’re my family, Jisung. I—, no, we won’t ever leave you behind or forget your name.” You let go of him to stare directly at his eyes. When Jisung looks at you, he’s surprised to encounter a small smile on your lips, despite the light tears making their path through your cheeks. “Time may pass, we may go different ways— But we’re always going to be each other’s home.”

2 Months Until Graduation

Girls and boys are separated during P.E, everyone knows that (it was a pity, because surely you would’ve loved an free-opportunity to throw a ball at Donghyuck’s face), but one day, when the teachers decide to merge the class, you’re dumbfounded. All of the seniors are in the gym, separated into girls and boys on opposite sides of the benches. There are big speakers connected to an old and beatdown radio, making you shudder, lowkey knowing what is going to happen.

“So, as all students already know, the date of your prom is coming soon!” Mrs.Park claps her hands loudly to shush a bunch of girls that couldn't stop giggling, sending a dirty look at the girl's side of the students. 

You pretend you don’t notice Hyunjin staring at you from across the gym, praying internally for every single god you know to save you from this situation. You accidentally make eye contact with Mark and you mouth “save me” to him, forcing a panicked expression, trying to use your eyes, then your chin, and soon you’re shaking your head like a mad-woman to point at your ex, while not actually pointing to him. However, Mark was far from understanding your failed (and pitiful) attempt to use telepathy.

“It’s a tradition of more than fifty years in our school that we vote on a king and a queen for prom. The fortunate pair are the ones to open the dance floor, so, it’s quite mandatory that all students learn how to properly dance, as everyone has a chance of becoming king or queen!” You don’t miss how Hyunjin’s eyes spark with hope at Mrs. Park’s words and you shudder, groaning.

“If you already have a pair, please, go towards them and help yourselves to an empty spot. We have the entire sport court for us, so feel free to use the space, as long as you don’t leave the gym, of course.” Mr. Jung, the Male P.E teacher says. “If you haven't invited anyone yet, you can practice with a friend, that’s okay too.”

“Shit” You whisper dreadfully, your fingertips trembling on the side of your body. As the first students break out from the groups to join their pairs, you try to conceal yourself between the bodies in the crowd, your eyes traveling to anything that could possibly help you.

You could hide under the bleachers and pray that no one catches you. Or you could make a run into the locker rooms. Or you could beg to a random stranger to pretend to be your pair— no, that wouldn’t work, knowing Hyunjin, he wouldn’t stop even if you were engaged to someone.

Okay. Lockers it is, you decide, already turning in that direction with adrenaline in your veins. That didn’t last long, as you feel a cold hand grabbing your wrist before you can make a run for it. You freeze on your track, cursing every single divinity above. You’re certain that they were mocking you in this exact moment, saying something like “oh, look at that dumb, stupid kid!” ang giggling as they watch you suffer.

“y/n. Can we talk?” You slowly turn back, meeting Hyunjin’s dark eyes with your own. They held so much sincerity and fondiness that almost made you believe that maybe, the two of you could be happy. Almost.

“No—” You try to free yourself from him, but his hold on your wrist is firm. You give up and look away, but you can’t force your body to reject his touches. It’s been a long time since Hyunjin last touched you like this, without anger or resentment. For a single second, you’re caught up in the past again, dreaming awake of when you and Hyunjin were the perfect couple.

“Please… I just want to make things right this time.” He pleads softly. When he notices that you refuse to meet his gaze, his hand cups your cheek with all the care in the world, gently turning your head to look at him. You want to scream and cry, but surprisingly, you also don’t feel the need to. 

“How so? Are you finally going to apologise?” You can’t help whispering those harsh words, surprising even yourself by your boldness. Hyunjin has a surprised look, eyes wide and lips parted, but you don’t feel as bad as you’d have felt if it was last year. 

“What—” He mutters, but quickly composes himself, sighing. “Look, y/n, I know you were hurt when we broke up—”

“That’s an understatement.” You interrupt him pettily. He glares at that and you surprisingly feel nothing. If anything, you were lowkey satisfied that you were giving him a hard time.

 “...but I regret that. Everything.” He continues, ignoring your words. You inhale sharply, already feeling the annoyance build up. “I had a long time to process things. Nothing is the same without you— We were the best things that happened to each other. You’re the piece that was missing in my puzzle.”

“Wow. Nice speech.” You force your expression to be blank, your words being filled with all the sarcasm you could reunite. “But you had almost one year to think about things and you only realize that now? That’s impressive, even for you. Einstein would be impressed, ha!”

“It was at that party, two months ago. I tried everything, but nothing could fill the empty space on my chest. On the start of the year, I tried leaving a letter on your locker, but you never answered, so I thought that was it. But seeing you again made me understand what I had lost.” He takes a deep breath and moves his body to come closer to yours, still ignoring every word that you said. “I still love you. Please, y/n…”

“Don’t do that.” 

In a second, you’re out of his arms. Hyunjin blinks, seeming lost, and you scoff. His hand that previously was on your face now is hanging in the air, as you slapped it away. You see from the corner of your eye people hushing around both of you, trying to peep, but you ignore them easily.

“A year passed, and you still don’t understand anything, Hyunjin!” You almost spit the words, glaring at him. “You were the one who broke up with me. You were the one who said you deserve someone better than me, who said that I wasn’t enough for you. You also were the one who thought that I had sex with my childhood friends— oh god, that makes me sick just remembering it— and forced me to choose between them and you!”

“I’m sorry—”

“No, you’re not.” You hiss lowly, self-conscious of the fact that you were still in the gym. “Did you know? Since last year, I have been trying to understand what went wrong with us. I cried, every fucking night for two months after we broke up. I thought the problem was me— Hell, you made sure to highlight in your speech that day—, and for a long time, I hated myself for not being enough! Then, when I thought I was getting better, you come out of nowhere to suddenly say you regret everything? Fuckin’ shit—!”

You’re crying. You realize that too late, aggressively wiping your tears with your blazer. A quick turn of neck and you also realize that, gladly, people didn’t make a crowd around you. However some of the students noticed the argument and were stealing sneaky glances. 

“But in the end, I have to thank you.” You don’t see around any of your friends, and you’re lowkey glad for that. “If you weren’t such a shithead and said all those things now— I think I would’ve never really understood what everyone always says about you, Hyunjin. Hell, you don’t even care about me, you just want someone to kiss your fucking feet!”

You take a deep breath and you’re more than ready to continue your monologue, exposing yourself emotionally after everything, but a hand on your shoulder breaks you from the rush of adrenaline, bringing you down from the adrenaline in your blood.

“That’s enough, y/n…” Mark whispers, squeezing your shoulder as a reassurance, and you’re startled by his sudden appearance. You inhale and let out another sigh, wiping your face again, trying to remove all traces of the previous breakdown. “You made your point, hm? By now, I think Hyunjin understands that things won’t end well if he tries to approach you again.”

You let out a chuckle unintentionally with his slightly threatening tone and both of you walk away from Hyunjin, Mark’s arm wrapped around your shoulders to carefully guide you between the students, knowing that you weren’t paying attention to anything right now. 

You’re lightheaded and a mess of emotions inside. You feel like you’ve said too much, that you exposed ugly parts of yourself that you’d rather no one knowing about it, but you also feel like you didn’t rant enough to be satisfied. Many words are stuck in your throat, feelings that you would’ve preferred to be thrown on Hyunjin’s face like a petty revenge, just to see him flinch, instead of being bottled up inside.

But you’re okay. It hurts, but your heart is slowly healing. You’ll be okay.

“By the way, I already asked, but Mrs. Park won’t let us skip off the slow dance practice… And almost everyone already has a pair, so…” Mark says sheepishly and you let a small smile appear on your face. He shyly offers you his hand, the other one behind his back like a gentleman. You carefully put your hands on top of his, finding amusement on how his doe eyes widen, as if he didn’t expect you to actually take him. 

“I guess we’re stuck together” You complete his sentence shyly

You would kill yourself if anyone else had seen you in this vulnerable state, but when it’s Mark, you guess that you don’t mind his company.

1 Month Until Graduation

It’s been a while since you last used the school’s music room. Senior year and exams were taking a toll on you, even if you tried to deny it, and you almost had no time to properly have fun. 

But exams were over. All you had to do now was wait for the results— and find someone to take you to prom, but you didn’t want to think about that.

“Hi, sweetie-pie!” You say, in a honey-filled tone that would make yourself gag if it were in another situation

“What the fuck, y/n—”

“Shut up, I wasn’t talking to you!” You snap at Renjun, looking at the piano again changing back your expression to the loving one. You lean on the black, elegant, and probably expensive instrument that the school had, giving it a full peck on the lid. “Oh, my love, I missed you too much~ I’m really sorry for not visiting you soon”

Renjun furrows his eyebrows and pretends to puke with your antics and you let out a big laugh by that. He has a paper on his hands with a big logo full of mandarin characters on behind and he stares intensely at it, as if he wished it could bring itself to life and give him the answers he needed. You sit on the piano stool silently, your hands moving swiftly through the keys in a warm-up, without actually playing any song.

“I actually feel like Kelsi” You hum, your voice taking him out of his concentration on the paper. 

“Who?” He raises his eyebrows, confused

“High School Musical. The pianist, shy girl.” Renjun sighs heavily and you giggle at his tired eye roll

“After all these years, you still reference High School Musical at every fucking opportunity you get” He complains, making you grin

“Of course!” You beam, your hands producing a soothing and calm background noise. “We like music. Also, we’re in high school. And, the cherry on top: some of our squad are on the school’s Basketball team, the most cliche thing to ever happen. It’s almost a sign from the gods, saying ‘Do it!’. It’s only natural that I should be following the legends’ example, right?”

“No” He deadpans

“Ah, okay then,” You say, pouting. You shift your attention to the piano again, “I won’t sing or play to you anymore!— You’re also banned from this room. Yeah, yeah, that sounds right— Leave, you’re not allowed to listen what I’m going to play!”

“If you sing any of High School’s discography again, I swear to god—” he ignores your childsh remarks, scoffing and mumbling quite bitterly, also appearing on your peripheral vision and sitting beside you on the bench. You drop the brat attitude and stop playing for a second, making a comfortable silence fill the room. 

“No, it’s not that” Your tone is uncharacteristically soft. You watch as recognition flares in Renjun’s eyes right in the firsts notes you play, and you look away. “It’s been a long day, without you my friend.”

“And I’ll tell you all about it when I see you again” He joins in, the harmonization of both of your voices not failing to make a chill run down your spine. The good kind of chill. You let him continue the song, bobbing your head and smiling slightly. “We’ve come a long way from where we began. Oh I’ll tell you all about it when I see you again. When I see you again”

“Damn. Who knew? All the planes we flew, good things we've been through. That I'll be standing right here, talking to you about another path. I know we loved to hit the road and laugh. But something told me that it wouldn't last, had to switch up, look at things different, see the bigger picture. Those were the days, hard work forever pays. Now I see you in a better place” He raps, but his voice lacks the edge that a rapper normally displays. Instead, his tone is soft, almost singing rather than rapping. That style suits him, you think.

“How could we not talk about family, when family is all we got? Everything I went through you were standing there by my side. And now you gonna be with me for the last ride” You join him, even if your voice is on the weaker side as you’d have liked to let him have this moment solo. He notices this and nudges you, signalling to take the next part.

“So let the light guide your way, yeah… Hold every memory as you go” You sing with confidence and emotion, your voice vibrating, but not cracking. You lock eyes with Renjun, hoping that he could understand all of your feelings. “And every road you take, will always lead you home… Home”

“It’s been a long day, without my friend. And I’ll tell you all about when I see you again… When I see you again.”

Your hands leave the piano and fall limp at your sides. You purse your lips, feeling your eyes starting to water and you suddenly can’t bear to maintain eye contact. Renjun has his neck upwards, looking to the ceiling.

“What’re you doing...? You look stupid...” You mutter, still mocking his position despite your own emotions. You watch him from the corner of your eyes, as a single stray tear escapes and he gulps. You feel yourself breaking apart with him, the pain in your chest being ten times more intense than when you broke up with Hyunjin last year.

“...nothing” He manages to say, his hand searching in the air for a few seconds before he catches your own, intertwining your fingers for reassurance. You also feel your throat closing and you finally let yourself cry, lowering your head and making your hair cover your face from the sides.

“...did you tell anyone yet?” You whisper, afraid that if you say the words out loud, they’ll be even more frightening. 

“...no.” He sobs, covering his face with his other hand. You whip your head back, throwing all your hair behind your neck and rubbing your own palms harshly through your face as if punishing them for breaking down would solve anything. “I don’t even know what to do yet… I don’t want to leave, but—” 

Renjun leans his head on your shoulder, crying freely. You wonder, if the pain on your chest was already insufferable, how was he feeling? You didn't want him to leave, and neither did he wanted to do so, but if things were to this point… How could you ask him to stay? How could you be selfish?

Reality was cruel. Renjun was an exchange student. Deep down, you already knew since the beginning that things weren’t set to be permanent. You knew that he wasn’t like Chenle, whose parents came to live in Korea. Unlike you, Renjun had his own father, mother, sister and grandfather waiting for him to come back to home. Knowing that, how could you hope for him to stay?

You bring him to a tight hug, burying your head on his shoulder and crying your eyes out. You didn’t want to, but you started to fear the future. You wanted time to stop, to never graduate, to never go to college, so you all of you could be together without worries. You were being selfish and you also knew that, but you couldn’t find in yourself the willpower to stop that ugly feeling.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry… I’m sorry…” Renjun chants like a mantra, and you feel a wet patch on the fabric of your shoulder. You don’t mind, as your tears had already formed a bigger stain on his blazer.

“This is not a goodbye” You choke, swallowing with difficulty “We’ll see each other again”

3 Weeks Until Graduation

“Mrs. Park asked me if we could do something to perform in prom” You say as you enter the music room, counting the presence of all seven heads before nodding satisfied to yourself.

“And why should we do that?” Hyuck whines, laying down on the couch and facing you upside down “School is almost over, she can’t bribe us with extra points!”

“Well, I think we all forgot that Chenle and Jisung aren’t seniors, and theoretically, can’t attend prom—” You giggle nervously, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear “But Mrs. Park said that if the music club performs, she can let it slide”

“It’s not that bad” Jaemin arches his eyebrow, glancing at the two youngsters and shrugging it off “We were planning on sneaking them from the kitchens, but this works too— It also prevents anyone from getting to jail from food poisoning”

“What the fuck Jaemin” You deadpan, the boy just sending you a peace sign. For the sake of your mental health, you decide to ignore that for a while.

“But it’s still such a bitch” Donghyuck sighs, rolling his body so he is now with his belly on the sofa. He supports his hands on his elbows in the classic flower position, which, may you add, makes him appear more innocent than he’ll ever be. “We have 3 weeks to come up with something original? Are you kidding me?”

“She said it’s alright if we cover something, as long we perform it live” You explain, breathing deeply to not lose your patience

“But it’s no fun if we do it like that~~!”

“Then why are you complaining in first place?!” You bicker, glaring when Donghyuck smirks, fluttering his eyelashes innocently. You roll your eyes and flip him off, making him snort.

“What are you? Five?” Renjun deadpans, shoving the other male on the side. Hyuck pouts, sending finger hearts at him(Renjun ignores all of it.)

“Guys, I think I have something—”

“We all know Lee Haechan has a single-digit IQ” Jeno mocks, earning another whine from Hyuck.

“Don’t use my artistic name like that!”

“Artistic my ass” You pretend to cough, “It’s more like a nickname you made when you were in middle school because you thought it was cool, but backfired badly when you grew up"

“Who even calls themselves Full Sun?” Renjun teases. Donghyuck gasps dramatically, fully sitting up so he can put his hand on his chest.

“Excuse me, Haechan is a fucking amazing name!” He pouts, his reaction making you snort ungracefully

“Guys—”

“Hey, children, let’s stop bullying your friend~” Jaemin speaks in his aegyo tone, taking Donghyuck’s cheeks in his hands and making kissing faces at him “Let’s spread love~”

“No, fuck! Mooooooooom! Save me!” Hyuck screams, terrified. You smirk amusedly and finally turn to Mark, who had already given up on trying to speak. 

“Sorry, what was it?” You tilt your head, noticing the papers in his hand. You take a seat on the office chair beside him, sneaking a glance through the computer and the music files in it. You don’t understand anything about producing, but Mark was good at it, so all of you could record songs even if you were just highschoolers. 

“I have something in my drafts that could help us” He says, giving you the paper with the lyrics on it. Both of you ignore the chaos rising behind you, already being used to the loudness that came up with your group. 

You raise your legs into the chair, sitting cross legged, leaning slightly forward. You don’t even notice yourself resting the back of your hand on Mark’s thigh, fingers playfully wiggling around as a silent request for him to take his hands in yours. He takes your demand in no time, tangling his fingers smoothly with yours in a firm, but gentle grip. You smile at that, a warm feeling consuming your body entirely.

“Puzzle piece? That sounds cute” You giggle, watching as Mark clicks in a file that you see that hasn’t been edited in more than a month. He stretches out for a headphone, putting it on your ears carefully before starting the track. The entire time your eyes are glued to his face, observing each feature in him as he’s distracted. Suddenly, you’re afraid of being caught staring for more time than it should be considered okay for friends, so you quickly turn your eyes to the computer, feeling your chest bubble with something you quite don’t know what it is.

“I started working on it before finals, but I didn’t do much because I had to study” He explains as you squint your eyes through the multiple layers and notes that you didn’t understand. Your eyes travel again to the lyrics sheet, a smile spreading in your lips unconsciously.

“You’re my missing puzzle piece~ Finally I solved it. You filled every piece of my heart, even the scarred part of it to the fullest. And somehow, you’ve become my everything, my missing puzzle piece” You test, the lyrics leaving your mouth quite smoothly with the incomplete song melody. “I liked it” You say, spinning your chair to face the dreamies again, noticing that they had calmed down and were quietly enjoying your voice. You feel shy with the sudden attention and you clear your throat with your fist in front of your mouth to hide it, passing the lyrics sheet to Jisung, who’s the closest. You lowkey miss the feeling of Mark’s hand trapped in yours, and that realization makes you even more shy. You take a deep breath, calming yourself down.

“Jaemin and I to wrote the lyrics” Jeno announced proudly, Jaemin nodding with him

“You did a good job” You smile proudly, raising a high five to both of them. Jaemin came to hit his hand with yours, but you troll him in the last second, changing your fingers to scissors. 

“You’re impossible” He deadpans and you roar with uncontrollable laughter. Jeno smirks, giving Jaemin sympathetic pats on the back

"I did something just for the overall feeling, but it's pretty nothing yet" Mark says, not seeming to be affected by the general chaos. "But I think we can finish it in less than a week? So there will be time to practice,"

“So, what were you thinking about? The melody, I mean” Chenle asked and you gave space for him to come closer, moving your chair. Mark pulled out his guitar supporting it on his thigh.

“Mostly C, E, A minor, G and F” He says the accords as he plays, switching the order to get other verses, but not playing any note besides those. The difference between stroking up and down the strings, along with the occasional change of chords are enough to bring a simple and aesthetic feeling. “Since it’s more in the heartwarming side, I think we could try for an acoustic vibe, y’know?”

“It’s good” Renjun nods, holding the sheets. “”Hello, it’s been so long, isn’t it?” The small piece that I put in my pocket and carry around everywhere, please be with me so it can be fuller and prettier. Na Jaemin, what the fuck are these—”

“Hey!” He protests, pouting “What’s wrong with my lyrics?”

“It’s cringy as fuck”

“The whole song is cringy as fuck, I don’t see your point here, hyung” Jisung mocks, and you giggle, agreeing with him

“But it’s cute” Chenle shakes his head, smiling slightly. “More than having everything, not losing that one thing is more important.” He reads the lyrics, nodding along

“Whoop whoop— Who were you thinking about when you wrote it, hm,~~? Was it me?” Hyuck leans down to support his weight on Jeno’s back, much to the other boy's dismay. 

“Ah. I won’t say, you’ll tease me to the end of the world” He sighs, earning a giggle.

“I knew it!” He exclaims, deep down already knowing the answer without even asking. 

"Ah, shut it, will ya?" Jeno grunts, rolling his eyes. "It's not about just one single person. It's more about us. There's eight of us, a pretty big group, might I say, but it somehow feels empty if a single person is missing. That's why, Missing Puzzle Piece"

"Wow." You say, caught off guard. Your lips curve upwards and there is a soft look in your eyes as you take in Jeno's flustered face by his own confession. "Why are you so good at writing lyrics?" You tease him lightheartedly.

"Maybe it's because Lee Jeno is the most awkward person I have ever seen" Renjun ponders, smirking.

"Nah, that's just Mark. Jeno comes in a second close, he's more like, the type that doesn't know how the fuck are you supposed to express yourself" You argue, Renjun having no choice but to agree with you.

"He's one of those talented composers that uses music to confess their feelings!" Chenle giggles like a teenager girl, poking Jeno's biceps. The latter has a suffering expression, apparently, giving up on having a peaceful environment.

"I can totally see Jeno using music to confess to someone" Jisung ponders out loud, making you cackle. "Imagine this: it's two am, Jeno has a guitar on his lap and is sitting on the couch. In front of him, on the center table, are Seol, Lal and Bongshik. They're the only ones he loves anyway, so he's serenading them!"

You think you're having an aneurysm from the intensity you laugh and shake your shoulders, feeling your belly burn with every snort you let out. Your eyes travel across the room and they stop at Mark’s expression, admiring how his muscle faces contort with every laugh that escapes from his lips. 

“Ah, fuck, why am I being so attacked right now?” Jeno curses, slightly pissed but his body completely still against the couch.

“Don’t worry, Jeno-ah, everyone has their moments” Donghyuck teases. Jeno narrows his eyes at him, gripping his shoulder in a tight grip and applying force enough to make the other boy whine, while giggling happily “Ah, ah, I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Please, don’t— Ack!”

“We’re getting off track” Mark warns, although his smile reveals that he’s having fun watching Hyuck suffer. “Guys, let’s focus right now, right? We can mess later”

You’re scared of what this fuzzy feeling in your chest means. But at the same time, you feel safe, as nothing in the world could hurt you. It’s a giant mess of feelings that you didn’t want to tackle right now, so you just let it be.

2 Weeks Until Graduation

All of you were reunited in Chenle's backyard. His house was big enough for you to decide suddenly that you wanted to do a sleepover— More exactly, you wanted to sleep outside. The first option was to go to a beach, but you still had school to attend, so camping on the grass with multiple tents set up seemed fair enough. (Also, Chenle’s parents were the only ones that had a house big enough for eight teenegers and didn’t care if those eight teenagers were screaming and being hormonal kids)

Three tents were set up. You didn’t mind sharing with one of the boys, but Mrs. Zhong was really worried, so you decided to at least give her some peace of mind. You had the smallest tent to yourself, while Chenle and Jisung shared another small one and the others shared the large one. Mark brought his guitar from home and was mindlessly playing with the strings, producing a soothing background music to fulfill the silence. The rest of you were sprawled on the grass, looking at each other, or in your case, the starry sky. There were some lamps on the outside of the house, but you guys chose to put a cheap yellow lantern in the middle of the circle just to set up a sappy mood, almost like a city-version of camping. 

“Did you guys get your exam results?”

For almost a month, all eight of you made a silent deal to never mention college and exam results. It was painful to even consider that you weren’t going to see each other every day, so it was easier to pretend that it wasn’t going to happen any soon. That, and you were silently trying to not upset Jisung. The episode of three months ago was still clear in your head— you hated yourself for it, but his words messed with your emotions. It was hypocritical as fuck of you to assure him that everything was going to be okay when even you didn’t know if it was true or not. You didn’t spill the tea directly to Mark, Renjun, Jeno, Donghyuck or Jaemin, but they already knew that Jisung and Chenle were highkey worried about all of you graduating. 

So, when Jisung finally addressed the elephant in the room— To say that you were tense was an understatement.

“I passed. Seoul National.” Jaemin breaks the silence, a grin on his face. 

“What?!” You exclaim, immediately rolling around so you were on your belly and you could face him. You had the biggest and proudest smile on your cheeks. 

“SNU? Wow” Jeno exclaims, punching him on the shoulder, being joined by both Renjun and Donghyuck. Jaemin whines, but his smile never leaves his lips even once.

“That’s amazing!” You feel your shoulder relax a bit at the news, beaming at him. 

“Yeah. And it’s not that far either” Jaemin adds, you notice that Renjun’s expression falters a bit. You don’t dare to mention his change out loud. At least not for now.

“It’s not a big one like Jaemin, but I passed too. Hanyang University. I tried for Architecture, actually. Changed my mind at the last second.” Jeno giggles shyly and you also beam at him.

“What do you mean ‘it’s not big’?” You whine, being your turn to slap his thighs. “It’s seventh in South Korea! Be more proud of it!”

“I thought you were going to go after basketball” Mark wonders, tipping his head

“I was.” Jeno shrugs at him. “But there are a lot of things to take into consideration when you choose a sports career. The most obvious of them is height, and well— I have 1.77. It’s pretty good for the average korean man, but I don’t think I would’ve made it into a basket team.”

“Ah, true. That sucks, tho” Chenle groans, tucking his leg into himself. “I have 1.78. It’s not a lot either.”

“It happens.” Jeno finishes “I’m not upset about it, actually. I’m really looking forward to study architecture— I have an uncle that works at a construction company and if I do well, he said that he can take me under his wing”

“Well, as long you’re satisfied—” Hyuck pats his back, also using the situation to snuggle into him. “We’re happy for you”

“Thanks” He smiles, his eyes turning into small moons. 

“Music, Sungkyunkwan University. ” You take the cue, announcing proudly with a peace sign. “It’s not the closest, but still is around Seoul, so it’ll be okay. At most i’ll have to take long rides on the train to meet you guys, so it still works”

“Sungkyunkwan is awesome” Jisung’s eyes sparkle and you let out a shy chuckle, nodding “I want to try for them next year, but I’m not really sure”

“Whoa, imagine that? Park Jisung as my super duper cute junior?” You tease, poking his leg. Jisung makes a face at you and you laugh.

“Well, for me, I’m at Kwangwoon. I’m going for Journalism and communications” Donghyuck announces, pulling you closer and forcing you to sit up for him to sneak his arm around your shoulders. “It’s far as fuck from the other Universities here in Seoul, but at least, we’re close.” He says that last part directed at you, making you nod.

“I passed in Music in Chung-ang” You widen your eyes at Mark, but not in the good way

“You’re going to Anseong?” Your voice wavers, but he just chuckles.

“Nope. They have a Seoul campus.” He explains, chuckling “If you guys think Kwangwoon is far, just wait until you see on the map where it’s located—”

“I’m going back to China.”

Mark’s voice dies and you almost break your neck with the speed you turn to look at Renjun. His gaze is fixed on the grass, not daring to maintain eye-contact with anyone.

“Sorry...” He mumbles. Before you can say anything, he sniffles and wipes a stray tear. “I— My parents—” Jaemin engulfed him in a tight hug. Renjun buries his head on Jaemin’s shoulders, sobbing. You don’t even notice when the tears start to flow down your own cheeks.

“It’s okay… We aren’t mad, Injunnie…” Jaemin soothes, tapping the other male’s back.

“It’s just that... I miss them… Too much”

Renjun was an exchange student, you remember again for the nth time this month. His parents still are in China. He was living almost three years on his own, going home only on holidays. You can’t even imagine what he’s thinking or feeling, being conflicted between his biological family and his heart family.

“I got into Sichuan Conservatory of Music. They’re great and have an interdisciplinary background in music and art, so I was really conflicted, but—” He chokes. Chenle and Jisung also come closer to comfort him as he talks. ”I spoke with my mom. She said I could choose to stay in Korea if I really wanted to, but I miss her and my dad too much”

“Oh, Injunnie, that’s amazing…I’m proud of you”  Jeno encourages and you lift yourself from the ground, immediately tackling Renjun, hugging him from behind. After a few seconds, everyone is in a big and messy group hug. You hope that Renjun doesn’t care about tear stains on his shirt the next day.

“When are you leaving?” Jisung’s questions break your heart in countless pieces, making you bury your face even more in Renjun’s back.

“Three weeks after graduation.” He mumbles almost incoherently and you sniff.

The hug lasts a good ten minutes before Jisung complains that his back was hurting from bending it to reach Renjun’s height, making everyone let out a good laugh. Renjun wipes his face and you follow his example. His face is slightly swollen and his eyes are red. You notice that Donghyuck also has reddish eyes, but you don’t comment on that because you’re also certain that you look worse. Jeno was trying to hold it together, but even he couldn’t hide the sorrow in his eyes. Jaemin was consoling Jisung, who was still sobbing despite the earlier joke, rubbing the younger one’s shoulder. Chenle had an arm loosely above Renjun’s shoulders, not crying, but obviously affected by the news. Mark sighs loudly and takes back his guitar, back to playing some random tune on it, trying to make the atmosphere less depressed and awkward.

“There isn’t a campfire here, but…”

You recognize the first strums, as your lips quirk up.

“Camp rock? Really?” You laugh, but your chest starts to grow warm with the choice of music “That’s, like, the cheesiest thing in the story of cheesy things.”

“I hate to admit, but it fits the moment.” Jaemin mutters, a teasing tone. 

“Shut it, both of you” Mark scolds slightly, but you just widen your smile.

“So let’s sing na, nanananana, hey~, yah” Donghyuck starts. He makes eye contact with Mark, and both grin. Mark joins him, their voices blending softly in the night “C’mon and sing na, nananana, hey, ya.”

You sigh, pretending to be annoyed, but the smile on your face can’t fool anyone.

“This is our song, that’s all it matters, cause we all belong, right here together, there’s nothing better than singing along~ This is our summer” You grin, maintaining eye contact with Mark and Donghyuck at all times. “This is our song”

“And this is our song~” When all of your voices join, you can’t help but to feel emotional. All of your hands (except Mark’s) maintain a nice rhythm, clapping as your voices fill up the backyard. Hyuck takes charge of the adlibs, his honey-tone enhancing everyone and perfectly synergizing with all the voices.

You take a look at everyone’s faces. There’s a kind of understanding, even if no one said anything out loud. The song is happy, but it holds an emotional baggage to it as each one of you already knows that you won’t be able to sit down and sing carelessly like this in the future. 

You all sang multiple times together. None of you were professionals yet, but you liked to think that music had an important role in holding your friendship together. You couldn’t count the amount of random moments when one of you was humming a song, and out of nowhere, there was a full choral singing, even if it was the silliest song humankind has ever produced.

“This is our song…” Mark finishes, his hand falling limp on his lap. 

“Wow. Out a whole list of emotional, happy, but sad songs to choose from, you take one from Camp Rock.” Jisung sasses, even if it’s clear that his words don’t hold a real bite. “Real shitty taste, if I must say, even more for someone who’s going to take music”

“Excuse me? Camp Rock is great!” He defends, offended. You giggle at that.

“You’re going to be a professional musician one day. You’ll write your own songs, right? If you don’t do anything else inspired by us, I swear to god, I’m ending this friendship” You joke, nudging his side. 

“I’ll think about it” He smiles at you, making your chest fill up with warmth. His fingers suddenly pause the music and you watch as he gulps nervously and looks directly at the eyes of everyone “Even if we’re physically distant from one another, let’s try to be in touch, right?”

“Yeah…” You mutter along the boys and you lift your head so you’re staring at the stars. They twinkle and shine at you, almost as if they understand the bittersweet situation you have on your hands.

“Markie-poo” The older boy is startled as Hyuck brings back the old nickname he had given him when they were children. “Why don’t you do a chant for all of us?” 

“What— Why me?” He whines and you chuckle.

“You’re the oldest. It only feels right.” Jeno interferes, half teasing, half touched. 

“C’mon, Markie-hyung~~” Jaemin shakes his shoulders, forcing aegyo with a full pout that makes you cringe. Mark groans, shaking his head,

“Ah, you guys—” He scolds, but there is a fond smile on his cheeks. You smile, taking your time to admire your friends.

When you first met Mark, you thought that he was a goody two-shoes. You were ten, and at that time, you were constantly upset with him because he was the type of student that would remind the teacher that she had passed homework last week(and you also weren’t the type that would actually do your work sheet). You don’t even remember when you two started to be actually friends, and you don’t even know where you would be right now if you didn’t have him in your life. 

Jaemin and Jeno kind of came like a package. You’d known them since you were children— since you were five, actually. You remember playing with them sometimes in the playground, bickering because you thought insects were gross, while they loved to hunt for butterflies and bugs. Sadly, you’d moved from the neighborhood when you were eight, and your parents decided that the tiny house wasn’t enough for them. Despite that, five years after that, you find them in the same school and class as you— Also, same class as Mark and Donghyuck. 

Although they were inseparable, they were different on their own. Jeno was more laid back, the chill kind of guy. His humor was underrated— but that was expected, considering that you had a lot of pranksters and screamers on your group—, his jokes sometimes passed over your heads as not everyone had enough braincells to actually understand.

Jaemin had some crazy mood swings. One day, he was the calmest person to ever exist, and another, he spoke as if he was high on drugs and would say questionable things. He was either a patient and loving guy, or he would nag you until you rip your ears off. It was slightly unsettling how good he was at reading you and giving advice, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

You hated Donghyuck at first. He was a cool guy that made everyone laugh, but you couldn’t stand his teasing jokes at some moments. You and him formed a friendship only when he dropped his carefree mask. You found him crying behind the bushes of the garden because of a mean comment some kid made when they thought he wasn’t listening. In fifteen minutes of real, heart-to-heart conversation, you’d finally seen that he wasn’t just a jokester, and he wasn’t always happy, like everyone else assumed.

Chenle came when you were 13. He was a cute junior, but he had slightly language barrier problems because he didn’t know how to speak korean well. As a canadian kid himself(but living in Korea since he was a child), Mark took upon himself to help Chenle adapt to school, even if their languages weren’t the same. You thought that Chenle was cute— and that didn’t change even now, almost in adulthood—, and you did all you could to help him. He was thrilled and hyped for everything, making your heart melt for him like ice cream on a sunny day.

Jisung came almost at the same time as Chenle. Both of them were in the same class, and Chenle took the other boy to meet his older friends when he realised that Jisung hadn’t any friends in school. Your mother instincts were activated almost instantly. He looked up at you as an example (you were a mess at studying and procrastinated to do every single assignment, but he still idolized you) and you pushed yourself to not disappoint him. You and Jaemin also bickered, trying to compete for Jisung’s love, but at some point you had achieved a mutual agreement of sharing his heart—much to Jisung’s dismay.

Renjun came much later, in freshman year of high school. He first met Chenle, as both of them were chinese, but he had more practice in speaking korean then the other boy at the time he had arrived. He was the one you clicked with the quickest. You thought that he was a shy, innocent boy at first, but his witty remarks matched perfectly your group dynamics, and everyone warmed up to him in no time. 

For three years, the group was complete. You took them for granted— You thought you were going to be each other’s anchor for the rest of your lives, and you’d never separate even if you had the biggest fight. You didn’t consider that you didn’t need a fight to go on different paths. 

The sound of bickering and teasing was so familiar to your ears that you were afraid of the future, when you wouldn’t hear Chenle’s high pitched laugh, or Jaemin’s whines and aegyo everyday. Or Donghyuck’s teasing, Renjun’s sass and Jeno’s deep chuckles. You wouldn’t witness Jisung’s nose crunching when he cringes, or Mark’s entire face blushing when he was embarrassed. You would lose that.

Maybe you were being dramatic. It’s not like any of you were dying— You just were going to college, for fucks’ sake. But you couldn’t help the painful squeeze of your chest, as you were missing something that was still here.Renjun was staying in Korea for 3 weeks after graduation. That gave you exactly a month until you’d have to say goodbyes. 

“Okay, okay, I’ll do it.” Mark gave in. He straightened his posture. “Yo dream!”

A single tear made his path down your cheek, but you didn’t bother to wipe it off.

“Jjeoreo! Juja! Fighting!”

You still had time

Five Days Until Graduation

“Hm, hi—”

“It’s three am,” You state groggily, “Why the fuck are you calling me at three fucking am, Mark Lee?”

You hear a gulp and the line stays silent for a whole minute. You close your eyes for a few seconds, dazed, not even registering the time passing as you’re half asleep. Mark finally speaks after two minutes

“—an we meet up?”

“...what?”

“I said, can we meet up?” He repeats, slightly exasperated. You yawn and he sighs. “It’s important, I swear,”

“...how important…?” Your voice is muffled by the pillows and Mark can’t help but to release a deep chuckle. You swear you’re in dreamland again, as you think that his laugh had some kind of spell that made your entire body relax at the same instant.

“I’m at the front of your home” Your eyes are wide and you immediately jump out of the bed, kicking the warm covers to the floor and rushing to your window. You push the curtains, looking through the glass

“What the fuck— Mark, why are you outside? What in the world—”

“It’s okay. Just come down, please…”

Your eyes soften and you sigh. You have known Mark Lee for more than nine years by now. You were sure you could recognize every emotion that passed in his eyes— That’s why you believe that he holds some kind of emotion that you’re not even aware of, and he desperately wants to hide it from the world. It’s almost like you’re in middle school again, when he lied about being fine, and insisted on being the perfect student, overworking himself to the limit and refusing to admit that he was human too and was likely to fail sometimes.

But it’s also different this time. His chuckle is bittersweet, most likely not sincere, but it’s not a hundred percent fake. The only thing is you can’t point out why you think that.

“Also, it’s cold outside, so wear something warm, okay?” He adds, interpreting your silence as agreement. You catch a hoodie that was thrown on your chair and you wear it over your pajamas, putting your fluffy slippers on your feet. 

You quickly go downstairs, not really caring if you made any noise. Your parents weren’t home anyways, so you didn’t have to worry about that. You unlock your door, only to see Mark in your yard, staring at the road. He’s not looking at the cars, you realise, he’s looking at the stars. Mark has only a white t-shirt, jeans and a black blazer that you guess that doesn’t do wonders, considering the way he hugs himself searching for warmth.

“Wear something warm, that’s what he said” You mock him, but deep down, you’re slightly concerned.  “What are you doing? Come inside, quick!”

“Sorry” He apologises, but you give a light slap on the shoulder as he passes by, muttering something about he shouldn’t apologise under your breath. He makes a beeline for your couch, hiding his face in his hands that were supported on his thighs.

“What’s up with you and Jisung, coming at my home late at night for pep talks?” You try to joke, failing as your voice cracks. Your chest is squeezing and you feel like you can’t breathe properly even if Mark hasn’t said anything yet

“I’m sorry” He mumbles again. You bit your lower lip, frowning.

“It’s all right, you know I don’t mind if you guys decide to raid my home at random times—”

“It’s not that... I’m going back to Vancouver.”

You go blank. Mark raises his head, doe eyes wavering. He’s not crying, but all the pain and despair are clear in his gaze.

“W-what…” Your own eyes are wide. You feel your throat dry and you can’t think of any words that made sense to be spoken out loud, the living room suddenly spinning and closing on you. “As a travel…?” You know it’s not, but you still hoped that, somehow, you had overanalyzed and misunderstood all of his red flags.

“No… I’m moving”

You suddenly can’t breathe. You stumble back to the table room, your knees giving up and forcing you to sit on the glass. The first tears drop from the corner of your eyes, but you barely register them.

“Fuck, I’m sorry—” Mark pleads again, standing up and walking around the room nervously. “I wanted to go to college with you guys— or at least be here in Korea, but—” He massages his forehead, hands dropping down to his lower face to drown a scream.

You force your legs to stand up, slightly wobbling in your steps as you walk to him. You launch yourself at him, circling your arms in his waist and clutching him as if your life depended on that, drowning yourself in the sensation of being squeezed between his own embrace while you had the chance to.

“It’s my grandma,” He talks after recovering his composure, burying his chin on your shoulders. You lay your forehead on his collarbone, afraid of letting him see your own despair “She has alzheimer. We thought she was doing okay, but last night, my auntie called… She said that grandma had an episode. She wasn’t eating, and was almost forgetting how to breathe during her sleep, so she was rushed to the hospital” You finally feel his tears dripping down your hoodie and you raise your hands to his upper back, drawing circles on his skin. “Mum and auntie agreed that granny probably doesn’t have much time… So we’re going back.”

“W-when—” You choke on your saliva, moving away for a second so you could cough and wipe your ugly tears. Mark catches your hands in his, not wanting to completely cease contact “W-when you’re going?”

“...wednesday.”

“But that is—”

“Five— No, actually, four days from now.” His hold gets tighter and you slowly process the information.

“So… You won’t attend prom, right…?” You want to slap yourself for that question, shaking your head. His grandma is passing away and the first thing you say it’s about some stupid party. Wow, way to go, you thought bitterly. “Sorry, ya’ don’t need to answer that.”

“I’m sorry” he shakes his head

“Stop apologising!” You scold, breaking down in tears once more. You feel your shoulders shaking and you try to wipe your face again, but you can’t win against the flow down your cheeks. “It isn’t your fault, so stop being so sweet and caring and everything! Shit, why the fuck am I the one crying—?! I should be the one supporting you, not the other way around…I’m so stupid, why—”

“Don’t say that, you’re not stupid...” Mark brings you again to his chest and you sob, your fingers gripping the fabric of his t-shirt fearing for the future. His left hand snakes up to your neck, making you lean your head on his shoulder again as he plays with his fingers through your hair strands. “Prom is important, I know that… If I could choose, I’d stay one more day, just to wrap things up properly, but…”

He doesn’t finish his speech, his voice dying a bit. You feel a gentle tap on your shoulder, and the next thing, you’re staring directly at Mark’s eyes. Despite the overall depressing situation, he still gazes at you fondly, wearing his heart on his sleeve without any second thoughts. His hand is nothing but caring as he moves the hairs on your face behind your ear, leaving traces of warmth in your skin in the trail. He withdraws a bit, only enough to tinker with his phone quickly.

“Y’know… We were partners at that dance lesson a month ago... And since neither of us has gotten ourselves a date to prom, I guess we’re still in game, right?”

You recognize the first notes of Perfect easily. A little laugher escapes from your mouth, your lips curving themselves to match Mark’s own smile. He drops his phone somewhere on the couch and casually messes up his black hair, somehow managing to make himself twenty times more attractive than the usual, also making exaggerated motions of fixing his blazer before curving down to an elegant bow from the 90’s.

“It’s not exactly what I had in my plans, but…” He reaches out, his hand open right in front of you. “y/n...Can I have this dance?”

You wipe the corners of your eyes one more time before nodding quite shyly, which is a feeling so foreign that you suddenly don’t know how you’re supposed to act. Mark seems to notice that as he takes upon himself to connect your hands, his fingers intertwined with yours and his touch burning through your skin. He lets out a content hum, slowly taking some steps back to reach a free space, far from both the couch and the table. You watch mesmerized as he confidently guides your hands to his shoulders, his arms wrapping around your waist with ease, almost as if your bodies were meant to complete each other. 

You’re dumbfounded, to say, at least. It was almost as if the roles were reversed. Since you were children, you had always been the confident one, while Mark assumed the more awkward type of boy— You’d made fun of him more times than you could count, repeating the iconic quotes he spilled when he was pressured and nervous (“this is so high, it’s like my grades!”). Suddenly, he’s not horribly awkward with skinship anymore, and you don’t know what exactly to think. Did you like it? Yes. Did you hate it? Also, yes.

“Cause we were just kids when we fell in love, not knowing what it was.I will not give you up, this time” You whisper the lyrics, swinging side-to-side. You don’t dare to sing the next verse, though. Mark nods, looking at you as if you were the most beautiful thing he has ever seen in his whole life. His hands are nothing but gentle as he spins you around, something that was never taught in Mrs. Park’s class last month. 

You hate the things he makes you feel. Your heart is full, but at the same time, it crushes within itself painfully every single time you’re reminded that Mark is going back to Canada. His hands made your skin tickle— in the good way. It brings chills, because it’s cold, but it also is extremely warm. You’re hyper aware of his arms circling your waist tenderly, your fingertips squeezing his shoulder with tenderness. Deep down, you already know that this isn’t how friends would interact with each other, but you’re too afraid to acknowledge that, and eventually make things even more difficult.

“We are still kids, but we're so in love, fightin' against all odds… I know we'll be alright this time” He sings, his raspy voice echoing in the walls. You feel the tears coming back to your eyes, “Darling, just hold my hand, be my girl and I’ll be your man. I see the future in your eyes”

You’re tired of crying. You’re afraid that you were being overdramatic with all of this graduation thing, and for a second, you started to question if you were being annoying, all of your self-confidence dropping for a swift moment. You bring your arms upwards from Mark’s shoulders, wrapping them around his neck in a deep embrace, taking the opportunity to hide your face in his collarbones again. Mark lets out a tired sigh, unspoken words flowing around you with a deep melancholy. 

You’re tired of people leaving you behind, you finally realize. Some old memory comes flying in your mind, one time that Jeno mentioned that you might have some abandonment issues, and you had denied it back then with all your might. However, if he said the same thing to you today, you would have no choice but to agree with him.

First were your parents, who had never cared for you in the first place, leaving you behind while they went on long business trips since you were eight. Then your girl friends at middle school, who ganged up on you one day and said that you weren’t cool enough to hang out with them. Hyunjin, your ex, who made sure to blame you for all mistakes made in your relationship. Maybe all of that justified your anxiety of losing your friends, the only ones who had stayed until now. You knew that people could easily keep being friends, even if they were in different countries, because they had the internet to chat even if they were miles apart. A part of you screamed inside, extremely dull as you couldn’t help but to think that you wouldn’t talk to any of your friends if you weren’t in the same classroom everyday.

“We’ll be okay” Mark whispers in your ear, as if he could sense your thoughts going spiral. 

You close your eyes tightly, letting yourself imagine you and Mark, in prom, with fancy clothes. You imagine him wearing a tuxedo, leading you into the dance floor, the fabric of your dress swaying in the air as if you were in some kind of Hollywood movie. Your friends would be cheering you on, and everyone else from school would be looking at you dreamly, as if they wanted to be in yours or Mark’s place. 

Baby, I'm dancing in the dark, with you between my arms

Barefoot on the grass, listenin' to our favorite song

When I saw you in that dress, looking so beautiful

I don't deserve this, darling, you look perfect tonight

Zero days until graduation

“Yah, if you don’t stop crying, your eyes will get so puffed that not even the best foundation in the world will help you” 

“What you’re talking about, Jaemin, I’m not crying—”

“Yeah, sure, everyone believes that—”

Your last week has passed in a blink of an eye. Before you could even process what was happening, you and the rest of your friends were in your house, drinking and spending your last hours with Mark before he had to leave for Canada.

It was dramatic. Since his flight was at 2 am (who the fuck thought that flights at 2 in the morning were a good idea?), you decided to spend the whole day together. Once every three hours, one of you would burst into tears, mainly you, Donghyuck and Jisung, the crybabies of the group. 

You didn’t go to the airport to see him off. In fact, Mark didn’t let any of you see him— He said it would be more painful that way. That didn’t prevent you from crying your eyes out anyway, and at this point, you think you actually dehydrated yourself from the alarming amount of tears you spent in the last 48 hours. 

“Fuck you then,” You hiss, hearing the laughters of Jaemin and Chenle from your computer. You were on discord, in a server that had all of you, including Mark. Just seeing his name appear on the members’ list made a jab straight into your chest, your eyes watering effortlessly. “—not gonna cry tonight. My tear ducts are dry already”

“I smell bullshit” Jisung pops out of nowhere and you sigh. 

“Anyway, not gonna happen. Not crying tonight, nuh-uh” You shake your head, slightly pissed “First, it’s extremely humiliating to cry on prom— Even more if you’re alone, that’s just… Sad.”

“And who the fuck said that?” Jisung roasts, making you sigh. Ah, so much for raising him, you think.

“I did” You counter, extremely concentrated on your current task: putting on your makeup. The boys were playing PUBG, not bothering to prepare themselves, for now. You still had more than four hours until prom, but you were anxious and couldn’t help yourself. “Whatever, what I’m trying to say here is that I won’t cry tonight. I don’t need to make everything more depressing than it already is, so I’ll just dance my worries away. It sounds like a good plan to me”

“Wow,” Chenle gasps suddenly, and you pause your artwork to briefly look at his icon flashing on your screen— A childhood picture of him holding a giant gun, smiling brightly as if nothing was happening. “Your levels of bullshit just hit the fan”

“Ah, you’re both so mean to me~” You whine, pouting even if they can’t see it. You’re unconsciously trying to deflect the situation, even if you’re not aware. “Both of you are younger than me, but why am I being so disrespected like that?”

“Because you’re lame” Jisung fires and you let out another whine. Chenle yells something about Jisung’s poop hands almost killing them on the game, but you’re not paying enough attention to understand whatever they’re arguing about.

“Okay, now, back to the topic,” Jaemin cleans his throat and you feel your shoulder tensing up. “I’m worried”

“You don’t need to, I’m fine” You’re a bit defensive. Jisung opens his mouth to say something sassy, but you don’t understand what he said, as Jaemin’s voice drowns him.

“I think we know each other long enough to know that’s completely, utterly, totally, entirely, absolutely full of bullshit”

“Wait, doesn’t all of that mean the exact same thing?” Chenle pipes up, confused. Jisung, Jaemin and you let out a synchronized sigh. Right, foreign problems.

“Like I said, you don’t need to worry, Jae” You spoke in a soft tone, halting your hand that was blending the foundation. “I will be fine, I guess. There’s not much to do about Renjunnie and Mark leaving anyway, so it’s no use to waste your time worrying about me.”

“Don’t put yourself down like that,” He scolds, but his words didn’t hold a real bite. It kinda reminds you of how a mother scolds her child— You didn’t actually experience that, but you suppose that’s how it’s meant to be. “It’s okay to feel hurt, even if there’s nothing to do about. I’m just saying that you shouldn’t bottle it up. Renjunnie was really worried these days, because you wouldn’t say anything about your feelings.”

“Yeah” Jisung butts in, only because he didn’t know what to speak, but he felt the need to be verbal. You can almost see Jaemin rolling his eyes in his house, but that thought doesn’t humor you like it should.

“Well, it’s just that...” You start, but you can’t find the exact words to express the mess in your head. “All of us are passing for the same thing, so I feel like it’s unfair of me to be complaining and crying at all times while you guys are not”

“And why the fuck do you think we don’t complain and cry at all times?” Jaemin is quick to counter, making you sigh for the nth time. “Hyuckie didn’t answer anyone yesterday because he was busy crying and eating ice cream while he watched Toy Story 3 and 4”

“Toy Story is sad, it’s normal” Chenle defends, as he cries every time single time too. 

“Yeah, he also cried over Spiderman: Far From Home and the last episode of ICarly. You know, the one when Carly goes to live with her dad and everything” Jaemin shrugs, but you don’t actually see it, you just imagine him doing that. 

“That’s tough, buddy” Jisung mutters

“Well, do you see a pattern there?” Jaemin continues, ever patient “That’s Hyuck’s way to cope with Mark leaving. He’s not that good either, but at least he lets himself feel bad and he talks to someone about what he’s thinking. That’s way more healthier than closing yourself and not talking at all, if you ask me.”

“So, do you want me to spill all my inner insecurities and ugly cry again?”

“Basically, yes”

“What the fuck Jaemin” All four of you chuckle at that, even if it wasn’t the best moment to actually be funny. Somehow, you feel a bit less overwhelmed with everything, as Jaemin’s words helped you understand that you weren’t being annoying, as your low self esteem suggested. You fall silent for some seconds, taking your time to process everything— Chenle shouts again at Jisung for dropping the wrong item and you take a deep breath, their casual bickering grounding you to reality. “... and thank you, I guess…”

“It would make me ten times happier if you kept on talking, but that’s also okay, I guess. Can’t have everything we want,” He jokes, using your own words and a light hearted nagging tone, making you smile a bit. “We can have more deep talk some other time, when you feel like you’re ready. Just, please, don’t cry again. You’re going to have giant dark circles and puffy eyes on prom night,”

“Fuck you, they’re not that bad” You pout, returning to your task of preparing your skin.

“By the way, do you want a ride? Jeno’s mum offered us,” Jaemin changes the topic and you can also hear shuffling and muffled voices in the back “Hey, auntie, I’m talking right now with y/n, can you say hi?”

“Oh, hi my dear!” Mrs. Lee says, giggling. Your heart warms up at the woman’s voice, her sweet image being always kept on your brain as a comforting one. “It’s been a long time since you last came to visit, right?”

“Yeah, since the beginning of the year” You nod, not registering that this was a call and no one could see you. “How are you, auntie? Are you good these days?”

 “Yes!” She shouted, her voice distant from the microphone. You heard water running, so you presumed she was washing something—Maybe the dishes? “I’m proud and very emotional today, you see. I remember taking watch over you, Jaemin-ah and Jeno when you were just children playing in the park, and today, you’re going to prom”

“Ah, yeah, auntie! About that, I was just convincing her to go to prom with us” Jaemin adds, and you can see his scheming face from miles away

“Oh, that’s right, dear!” Mrs. Lee agrees, the water dying down and her voice much closer this time. “Jeno told me your parents were in Japan this week, so we can take you and the boys. I will take a lot of photos, don’t worry!” She giggles and you smile

“Are you sure I won’t be a problem? I don’t want to intrude” You say shyly 

“Nonsense!” Mrs. Lee assures, her tone indicating there was no other option “It’s always good to see you, honey. Don’t tell Jeno, but I love you more than I love my own son~”

“What about me~~?” Jaemin whines, making you both chuckle. 

“At this point, I think you’re like our adopted son” Mrs. Lee muses out loud “Well, anyways, it’s been good to talk to you. I need to iron Jeno’s clothes, so we can speak later~ Ah, Jaemin, can you go bang on the bathroom’s door? Jeno’s taking too long on the shower!”

You chuckle as Mrs. Lee’s voice starts to fade in the background, the male probably walking off to the bathroom. Chenle and Jisung continue to bicker about PUBG, and right now, your heart is unexpectedly warm and fuzzy, unlike the feeling of emptiness you had until some hours ago.

“Yah, Park Jisung, how could you miss that shot?!”

“He was moving!”

“HE WAS RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU!”

You and Jaemin snicker, amused with the duo’s antics. At some point, Chenle’s words became slurred enough for you to not understand his chinese accent, while Jisung kept making strange and confused noises. You hear some shuffling on Jaemin’s end, background voices, and something that seems like Jaemin taking off his headphones.

“Are you on the server?” You recognize Jeno’s voice and you suppress the urge to scream in everyone’s ears just to annoy him.

“Yeah? Why?” You doze off for a bit, staring at the wall in front of you expressionless. You don’t understand what Jeno says next, only waking up from your daydream when the Jaemin says “Hey, I’ll have to go now, and it’s better if the kids also start to get ready for prom too.”

“I’m not a kid anymore” Jisung mutters, and you can imagine the pout on his lips even if you don’t actually see it.

“Yeah, keep telling yourself that—” Jaemin snorts, “Anyways, y/n, I’ll text you later whenever we’re picking you up or if it’s better to come here to Jeno’s house”

“Tell them I said hi!” You hear Jeno scream and a smile pops up on your face without even realizing it.

“Jeno said he hates all of you” Jaemin lies shamelessly, and you hear the other boy screaming at him while he laughs his ass off. “Whatever, bye!”

The party was mesmerizing. 

You weren’t going to lie, you’d thought the school wouldn’t spend this much effort on prom, judging by the ex-students that graduated last year, who said the school barely paid any effort on decorating the hall. But his year, they seemed to be redeeming themselves for their previous mistake.

There was an elegant chandelier hanging from the ceiling right in the entrance, each shard reflecting a different light in the walls that made you mesmerized. The hall was decorated in golden tones, giving the ambient a luxurious vibe that really made everything feel like you were finally entering adulthood. Each table had a delicate flower arrangement with candles, which honestly, made you flabbergasted. 

The moment your eyes laid on the dancing floor, you felt an inexplicable unease deep down in your stomach. The lights were perfect, the DJ contracted by the school had only played good songs in the short five minutes you were in the party, and everything was absolutely flawless, so why were you upset?

“Do you miss him too?” Donghyuck’s quiet voice snaps you out of your trance, only then that both of you were frozen right in the entrance, where everyone was taking their pictures. You eye Chenle and Jisung, both going ahead, already saving a table for all of you. Their fancy tuxedo contrasted with their green and pink hair, making a funny sight overall.

“Stop talking like Mark is dead” Jeno laughs weakly, elbowing him. Renjun had his eyes lost in the view, obviously, head flying over the skies. It didn’t need a genius to guess what was going on inside his head.

“It feels incomplete” Renjun mutters, and you swear you saw his eyes watering. You purse your lips and look away, already feeling the emotions wanting to pour out. “I mean, we started as eight. Why are we ending with only seven?”

“Actually, we started with six— Chenle and Jisung are younger, even if we forget that sometimes” Jaemin shrugs off and Renjun rolls his eyes.

“You know what I meant, don’t try to be funny!” Renjun snarls, making grabby hands at Jaemin, wanting to choke him. 

“Well, let’s stop this depressing conversation. I miss Mark, but it’s really lame if we end in ugly tears right on prom night.” You finally say, taking a deep breath. To try to lighten up the mood, you smile teasingly “Ah, by the way, my mascara is waterproof, but I’m not sure about the rest of my makeup, so you fuckers better behave!”

“Won’t promise anything,” Donghyuck chuckles and you slightly slap him. He runs his hand through his hair, making a mess on top of his head, but you had to admit that he looked good that way “We have a show to do, right? Let’s do this, so we’re free to drink”

“They have drinks here?” Jeno raises his eyebrow, surprised. Hyuck smirks knowingly, a shit eating grin that you knew too well.

“Nah, I brought them” He snorted, and you couldn’t help but to laugh along. Chenle and Jisung came back, the latter without his blazer, as he used it to mark the table you were taking as occupied. At the sight of them, Hyuck smiles and raises his fist to the center, nudging everyone to form a circle. “Let’s do a cheer, hm?”

“Who will lead this time?” You can’t help but ask, a bittersweet feeling taking over your emotions. You observe quietly as they gaze at each other’s faces, silently debating who was the most proper one to take the honor. 

“You should take this one, noona,” Jisung says after seconds of silence, making you widen your eyes in surprise. 

“What?” 

“I agree,” Jeno nods approvingly, a proud smile on his face that you don’t quite understand. He exchanges glances with Jaemin, who has a similar expression on his face, and you can’t help but to feel left out of some hidden information both of them have. “It’s only right. The one to lead the cheer has to be some type of leader, and you fit that profile.”

“Ah, fuck” You raise your face suddenly, looking up to the ceiling and wiping tiny tears from the corner of your eyes. Your voice wavers a bit and you hear the boys laugh fondly, a tiny smile also appearing on your lips. “I said I wasn’t going to cry now, why the fuck are you guys making it so difficult for me?” You whine, sounding more like a crybaby than teenager-slash-adult.

“C’mon, let’s end this properly, right?” Renjun laughs and you feel his hand resting on your shoulder, squeezing it softly. You gulp, taking another deep breath and extending your fist alongside the other ones. Your hand is slightly smaller than theirs, but the image of them forming a circle is something you’ll certainly hold deep in your heart for a long time.

“Yo, Dream!”

“Jjeoreo! Juja! Fighting!”

“1, 2, 3… Testing, 1, 2, 3” You send Chenle a pointed look, but the boy just giggles cheekily. You shake your head, smiling with his antics, and you take your sweet time to adjust the microphone stand to your height. 

The lights dim slowly, until nothing could be seen upstage. You sigh, closing your eyes for a second and allowing yourself to take in all the things. Every student’s expectant gaze, some school staff and buffet staff who were also enjoying the moment and the weight of the future on your shoulders. All the uncertainty and fears you held deep inside your chest, along with the unsaid feelings for someone who was out of reach.

For three minutes and forty seven seconds, you let go of all of that. 

“As the world I’m heading towards and matching up to is getting bigger, it makes me feel an emptiness somehow”

“As if solving up the scattered pieces, we are matching up our stories. Inside the empty spot in my heart, there’s a piece called you taking place”

“You’re my missing puzzle piece, finally I solved it. You filled every piece of my heart even the scarred part of it to the fullest and somehow, you’ve become my everything. My missing puzzle piece”

“The fact that I have a flaw, the truth that I am imperfect. All of it makes me feel small. But in between those gaps, we can fill one another with it, so I don’t even realized that it was empty”

“More than having everything, not losing that one thing is more important. Through you, I came to know that”

“You’re my missing puzzle piece, very dazzling, it becomes one scene inside the world that I’ve been trying to put together alone. Like the hands that are interlocking tight together, because without you, it can’t be completed, so that we won’t lose each other, my missing puzzle piece”

The performance runs smoothly, your voices complementing each other in beautiful harmonies. You pour all of your emotions into each part, feeling like you’re letting go of a burden. When the music ends, you feel slightly lost, but at the same time, as if you’d never lose your direction in the future. 

"Thank you, the music club, for this heartwarming performance." The principal says as you leave the stage with a bow. He clears his throat to continue with his speech "Friendships like yours are beautiful and incredibly rare, so I advise you, young ones, to treasure all the tiny moments you spend with each of your friends. High School is the first time you came in contact with a bit of the adult world. And sadly, High School probably is the last time you're still able to be a kid freely, to live without worrying about responsibilities. From now on, you're adults. You're responsible for every action and every decision you take, being them wrong or rightful ones. You're free to choose whatever path you want to pursue in your life, and which ones you will want to have with you in your journey. Hard times will come— but don't forget everything you lived until now. It's okay to lean on your family and friends when things become too heavy to handle alone. Hold each other close, and I'll assure you, you're going to be fine"

You can't help but to feel touched by the principal's words. The corners of your lips curve upwards and you take a quick glance through the faces of your friends, memorizing them in your mind. 

"Okay, now I'm skipping the cheesy part. I'm sure no one wants to hear the long speech I prepared about college and responsibilities anyway" The principal fumbles with his papers comically, erupting a roar from the crowd. He smiles satisfied. "Now, for the interesting part you all waited for! For years now, our school keeps the tradition of choosing a king and a queen to prom. Now, I'm inviting our dear Mrs. Park to come up to the stage to help me announce who is the charming couple who will receive the title of king and queen!"

"Hello, our dear graduates!" Mrs. Park cheered, the happiest you have ever seen her in your life. "As you know, the voting took place one week ago in the end of day at school, and today, we will have the pleasure of meeting our most loved couple—"

You tune her out, the principal’s speech still lingering in your head and making your thoughts run a hundred miles per second. The party’s walls felt too suffocating, almost as if they were closing on you, and you knew you couldn’t stay there for much longer.

“Are you okay?” Jaemin whispered, his hand squeezing your shoulder comfortably. You sighed, shaking your head

“Yeah,” You said, your voice wavering and clearly stating that even you weren’t sure “I just need some fresh air” 

“Alright” He nods, tapping lazily on your head. You take that as a good sign and you flee your group discreetly. You pass the golden arch by the side entrance, admiring silently the shiny decoration that made the hall look ten times more illuminated than it really was. 

When you finally cross security and find somewhere more private, you’re at some kind of garden. It’s not fully in the open, as you can see the tall walls that limit the building, but it’s a nice spot to admire the night sky. The first thing you notice is the chilly air— You clearly remember the weather being warmer when you were outside, so you guess that the sun fully setting was enough to make the temperature drop.

The stars are bright in the sky. They twinkle at you, and for a second, you think that they’re trying to pass a hidden message to you. Strangely, you feel your shoulders relax, releasing all the tension you built for the past minutes just by being with the comforting presence of stars. You close your eyes, breathing deeply and taking a few seconds to calm down the flood of anxious thoughts that invaded your mind. 

“Oh, you’re here”

You go blank. You feel frozen in place, your entire body refusing to move a single muscle. Your eyes are wide open and you feel like you’re not physically able to turn your neck, almost as if there was something on it preventing you from looking behind you. That something was anxiety, you soon realize, ready to cry on the spot.

Your lower lip starts to tremble and you feel thousands of different emotions burning in your chest, ready to burst at any moment. Taking a deep inhale, you shyly turn your head, afraid that the voice was just a cruel prank of destiny.

“Mark” His name leaves your lips along with all the air in the lungs. You don’t cry— You were shocked enough to make all brain power short circuit completely.

Mark Lee stood in all his glory, right here, right now. Less than three steps of distance. In Seoul, not in Vancouver, like you were thinking until a minute ago. You were sure this was an image you would be able to see only in your dreams, but somehow, you were living the real thing, seeing Mark Lee attend the school’s prom. His dark hair was styled handsomely, parted exactly in the middle and showing his forehead for the entire world to see. He wore a black suit, his blazer left open lazily showing off the navy tie and the white blouse under it.

“What— Mark—” You gasp, the words losing themselves in your throat, “Weren’t you supposed to be in Canada right now? What the—”

“Hm?” He raises his eyebrows in surprise, and you’re more confused than ever “Didn’t Jaemin and Jeno tell you?”

“Tell me what?” You shriek, almost screaming on the spot. Mark chuckles at your reaction, making that annoying, warm feeling bubble up again. He takes a timid step forward, so you’re face to face, an arm's distance from him. You hear a tiny voice in the back saying that you were dreaming— Maybe you were still in bed, probably in deep slumber, that was the only fucking way—

“There was a problem in our plane,” He starts explaining, doe eyes never leaving yours. His stare slightly overwhelms you. It’s full of unsaid feelings and memories, and you’re afraid of what will change if you admit your own feelings. “I got one more day until the next flight, so here I am"

"Wow…" You say, not being able to think of anything else to express yourself out loud while trying to understand what the fuck was happening. Mark smirks, amused with your shocked expression and lack of words. "Why didn't you say that sooner? Oh fuck, wait, you said that Jaemin and Jeno already knew? What the actual fuck— Why did you get late? Well, I'm not complaining, since you're here when I actually thought that I would never see you again because you were going to stay with your family and there was no guarantee that you would actually come back, and if you even came back to Korea how was I supposed to deal with— Oof"

Mark efficiently shuts you up by bringing you to his chest by the shoulders, your face hitting his body gently in a hug. He is chuckling fondly, and you note (quite embarrassingly, if you were to add) that you can feel the way his heart beating fast because you were leaning directly on his chest. 

"Calm down, you're hyperventilating" He whispers in your ear, making a chill run down your spine. Again, you have to actively remind yourself to breathe properly. You take in his scent, burying your nose in his collarbone, and you feel his fingers tracing random patterns over the fabric of your dress. "Well, for starters, I was in the airport since midnight— The flight was supposed to be at 2am, but it was delayed to 4am. After that, they delayed again to 6am, and then to 8am. At that point, my parents were pissed and decided to speak with some manager, and he said he was sorry and that he could reschedule us into a first class that was going to leave tomorrow, so boom! Here we are," 

"That's great—" You choke out. Mark's face softens and he removes one of his hands in your waist to carefully wipe something in your face. Shit, were you crying? "Ah, shit, I had a bet with Jisung that I wouldn't cry today. You're making it really hard for me, Mark Lee!" You whine, and the boy just chuckles.

"I guess I'm sorry?" He smiled sheepishly. "By the way, I called Jeno and Jaemin his afternoon after a good nap and told them. Didn't they tell you?" 

"No!" A pout appears on your face. You sigh, wrapping your hands in Mark's waist and burying your head again in his collarbone. For some reason, you really liked the smell of his cologne. "Can I murder them?"

"Nah, at least hear their reasons first. Then you can do whatever you want" He shrugs off. You hear the music booming inside the hall and you don't even notice when Mark starts swinging around lazily. "By the way, you don't have to worry too much, okay? It sounds bad if I word it like this, but I'll be back from Canada in no time"

"Are you implying that your grandma—"

"Damn, I already said that it isn't like that!" He whines, making you chuckle. He sighs deeply, leaning his chin on the top of your head. "I mean, I don't plan on staying in Canada for too long. Even if my parents decide to stay back there, I'm still coming to Korea after all the mess finally gets finished. My whole life is here, after all"

"...whole life…?" You repeat, leaning your head back so you can stare at Mark's dark eyes directly. He blushes, a shy smile appearing on his lips

"Yeah," You smile at him, your chest covered in warmth despite the chill weather "I grew up here in South Korea. I might be born in Canada, but what Vancouver has to offer is absolutely no match for what I already have in Seoul. You and the other kids"

You don't say anything, although it is more like, you can't think of anything good enough to express what you're feeling right now. Mark breathes deeply and his face changes to something more serious. He breaks the hug gently, instead, going for your hands and taking them in his own.

"Y'know, five nights ago, when I told you I was going to go back, I said that I wasn't going to say anything," He shakes his head, as if reviving a memory "I told myself that it would be too selfish to burden you with my feelings and to go away for months or years, with no predictions of when I was going to come back."

"I already knew, tho" You reveal shyly, staring at your connected hands. "Your feelings, I mean"

"Yeah, I'm not the best when it comes to hiding them—" Mark laughs and you chuckle, raising your head to look directly at him again. "Anyway, that night, when I left your house, I felt horrible. You know, those anxious thoughts? I didn't know anymore if I was sure of what I was doing. For one part, I want to see you happy, more than anything in the world. Even if that happiness lies with another person, that would be okay for me as long you were happy and satisfied. But the other half of me is selfish— What if I had lost my chance? What if I messed things up? What if the long time really tears us apart?"

"It won't" You assure weakly, gripping his hands more firmly. He nods, agreeing with you.

"Those were like, 3 am insecure thoughts." He clarifies, "I was going to leave without saying anything, I swear. But this plane problem came up, and fuck, call me stupid or any shit like that, but I feel like it's a sign? Like, really, what are the chances that something happens exactly like this?" 

"Maybe the airport manager is some kind of angel?" You joke, making him chuckle with you.

"Yeah, maybe" He takes a deep breath before returning to his monologue "So, fuck everything I thought was right until like, a night ago. I'm going to be really selfish, and I'm really sorry for it, but... I love you. I don't know how, or when it happened, but I love every part of you, no matter how much you dislike them."

"Mark—"

"No, please, let me say everything at once, okay?" He pleads. You nod, letting him have his moment "I realized it too late. All the protectiveness over the whole Hyunjin thing, I thought it was a normal thing to feel as friends, because the other kids also hated him— But there was a moment that everything clicked, and I was like, fuck, I really like her, and then, it was like a switch being activated. I started seeing everything from a different point of view and slowly it came to me why I wasn't upset about Kang Mina back then. It was never her, y'know? There is such a big difference between the things I thought I felt for her and the things I actually feel for you— Wait, why are you crying again?"

Mark pauses his speech, looking at you bewildered. You sniff loudly, the tears pooling on the corner of your eyes, and you shake your head.

"It's just—" You look upwards overwhelmed, trying to reduce your tears "Sorry, this feels too much like a dream and a nightmare at the same time. I'm scared of what I feel about you— I'm scared that I'll love you too much, and then you'll end up leaving"

"I'm sorry" Mark's face falls and he has guilt written all over his eyes. "I'm being extremely selfish right now"

"No, no, it's okay" You reassure quickly, shaking your head, "I'm just a crybaby, as usual.. Ah, is my makeup fucked up right now?" You chuckle nervously, trying to change the tense mood.

“It’s a bit smudgy here, but you’re still pretty” He says, his thumb wiping the corner of your eyes with so much care that you feel like you’re going to melt under his touch. You take a deep breath, locking your own eyes with his and forcing yourself to maintain them there

“Look, I don’t know if I made it clear enough, but…I do like you—” You shake your head at your own words “No, wait, I think it’s safe to say that I love you at this point. I feel like I’m about to combust every single time, and I lowkey hate it, because at the same time you make me feel funny inside and also trigger a lot of anxious thoughts— Those aren’t your fault, of course, but they still happen every once in a while”

“What are you worried about?” His voice is quiet, almost as if he was stepping on eggshells. You’re again, reminded that Mark Lee was one of the sweetest and most caring boys you’ve ever met, and that he was worried about you.

“I feel like I’m not enough. Like, hell, you’re fucking Mark Lee and I’m just same, old, me” Your voice cracks painfully “Jeno was right— I think I have some abandonment issues, and lowkey speaking, I think I’m a big burden to carry around, even more if you’re going to the other side of the globe in less than one day”

“You’re not a burden” He is quick to counter, his grip on your hand making a good job on grounding you to reality. “Having abandonment issues or not, you’re still you at the end of the day. I think I already said this before, but I love every single part of you, even the bad ones that come around. I’m not going to leave you behind for anything in this world— Fuck, I don’t think I would be able to live with myself if I did that”

“...” You’re speechless, feeling the urge to cry, but also not wanting to ruin what was left of your makeup. Your nose scrunches into a cute pout and Mark lets out a soft chuckle at your funny expression.

“If you’re up to it… I think we could try something?” His voice wavers, slightly hesitant. “You don’t have to feel pressured to agree, of course! It’s just that— I want you to know that I’m willing to wait until we can be together properly. That I won’t meet anyone else, because you’re the one that—”

“Yeah, it’s a good idea.” You cut Mark’s ramblings, a small smile appearing on your lips. His shoulders relax immediately, relieved that he didn’t make a fool of himself. You stood in a comfortable silence, taking your time to process all of the information that was dumped on you in the last fifteen minutes. Mark suddenly gasps and looks at you with wide eyes

“Holy shit, does that mean that now we’re boyfriend and girlfriend?” He squeaks, making you raise your eyebrows at him amusedly

“You were the one who asked!” You can’t help but to tease him, finding extremely cute how his cheekbones moved around in his many expressions

“Oh yeah, right,” He mutters to himself. “Does that mean that I can kiss you? I mean, now that we’re boyfriend and—”

You raise yourself on your toe tips, your hands cupping Mark's cheeks and bringing his face closer, connecting your lips and efficiently shutting him up. It feels strangely like a bunch of fireworks being set off in your chest, with sparks of electricity running in your body by every second. Mark's lips are soft, perfect against your own. All of his previous awkwardness disappears in question of seconds, as he pulls you by your hips against him, your own hand moving from his cheeks to the back of his head, messing with his hair mindlessly. His tongue is the first to ask entrance in your mouth, and you part your lips without second thoughts just to feel his tongue clashing directly against yours in sync. 

The kiss breaks off with your lungs burning, both of your breaths heavy, but that doesn't stop you from giving one last affectionate peck on his lips before backing down with your feet fully on the ground. You give him a bright smile, not paying any attention to how you feel your entire face and neck burning, focused only on Mark Lee and how your heart feels like it's going to burst out of your rib cage soon.

"That was… great," His smile makes his entire cheekbones go upwards, exposing some cute dimples on their way. He looks at you like you're his entire world, and for a second, you're lost in the way his eyes twinkle, almost if they are lost brothers of the shiny stars in the night sky. He leans his head towards you again, his forehead against yours and eyes staring at your soul. His left hand goes to his blazer pocket, taking a red pendrive from it and offering to you.

"What is this?" You take it, fingers carefully touching the device as if they were some kind of lost treasure. Mark grins at you.

"It's called Dear Dream, actually—"

“MARK FUCKING LEE, HOW DARE YOU”

You let out a high pitched scream, feeling someone throw all their weight on top of you, almost making you lose your balance and fall down if it wasn't for Mark and his spidey-sense reflex, supporting you with his arm behind you. 

"LEE DONGHYUCK, I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!" 

You finally come down to earth after near death experience— Is your heart still beating? Just to be sure, you put your palm on your chest, feeling the unsteady beats combine with the deep breaths. Donghyuck has one arm around you, and another in Mark's shoulders, crocodile tears on his face. You see Renjun running through the entrance, screaming something at the other boy, Chenle and Jisung after him with some big smiles and Jaemin and Jeno at the back, grinning like some twisted version of proud parents™

"You absolutely fucking bastard! How dare you?!" Hyuck shrieks, and you take a step back just to make sure you're not caught in the crossfire, however, you don't let go of Mark's right hand. "I come to make sure y/n hasn’t killed herself and suddenly you appear out of nowhere?! What the fuck— I'm feeling extremely betrayed right now what the hell"

"Hyung!" Jisung exclaims, wide eyed "What are you doing here?" 

"None of you actually know?" Mark gasps, glaring at Jeno and Jaemin, both of them shrugging off "What— I thought I asked you two to deliver the news?"

"Nah, too much work." Jaemin smirks innocently, making his best to show puppy eyes to be let off the hook. "We were like, debating if we should let the crybabies know, because it would be really cool if we were drowning in tears in one moment and in the next— boom! Mark Lee is fucking back! Oh, no, not actually back, but you got the hang of it"

"What do you mean crybaby?" Hyuck whines, still clutching Mark as if he was afraid of letting him go. "I'm not a crybaby, what are you saying? I’m suing you for spreading wrong rumors about my cold, totally devoid of emotions—"

"You're crying" Chenle deadpans, an amused smile decorating his face. 

"Besides, it was a nice surprise, wasn't it?" Jeno grins sheepishly, his hands buried deep in his pockets. "The plan worked— Hyuck is crying, y/n is crying, Jisung is trying to disguise his tears but we all saw it anyway and Injunnie is crying somewhere deep inside!"

"I cried a lot and ruined all of my makeup, I hope you're proud," You sniff bitterly, making everyone laugh at your miss fortune. You feel Mark's thumb caressing the back of your hand fondly.

"Donghyuck has the worst timing ever, I swear to god—" Renjun rolls his eyes, glaring at said boy who whines again in response. You feel the heat going back to your cheeks, suddenly shy under the knowing gazes of your friends

"I dunno what you're talking about?" You pout childishly, hoping that they save you from all the teasing and embarrassment, but of course they won't.

"Good try, our dear y/nnie!" Renjun smirks at you, finding amusement on how your cheeks redden up, along with Mark's neck turning a slight pink colour. "But well, you see, Mark has his lips tinted in red, and he hasn't let go of your hand since we found you two— So tell me, are you finally together after all this time of simping for each other like some kind of dumb Disney movie?"

"Fuck you Renjun," Mark sighs, earning another laugh from the dreamies. He raises your connected hands in the air, showing them to the world, and you watch with a dumb smile as your friends' faces lighten up one by one until all of them have that same genuine smile. 

"It happened?" Jisung mutters rhetorically, awestruck. You feel your eyes water with all those overwhelming emotions, but you limit yourself to a simple nod, curving your lips upward. Mark smiles shyly, not answering the youngest with words, but rather with actions. He gives you a light peck on the top of your head, proud with how their faces soften.

"I'm happy for you. You deserve someone good, hm? Not that our Markie is the bestest example, but c'mon, he's at least decent!" Donghyuck says teasingly, letting go of Mark to envelop you in a bear hug with a little laugh, his hand messing with your hair. You nod against him, not trusting yourself to come up with a verbal response, "I still hate Mark for not telling us earlier that he was coming to prom, but I guess that everything ended well, so perhaps we can forgive him, right?"

"Yeah," You chuckle, amused with Hyuck's antics and your boyfriend's absolutely done expression. 

Boyfriend, hm? That sounded good in your ears.

"Hey, now that we sorted this mess, let's go inside" Jeno pleads, sighing. "We're kinda losing the whole point of prom being outside like this—"

You hum in agreement and all of you set off to go back inside, your hand finding Mark's one naturally as you match each other's pace. He suddenly stops, clearing his throat and successfully gaining the attention of everyone.

"Hey guys, let's do this" His voice is firm, confident. You send him a confused look, but he just smiles proudly at all of you. "Yo, dream!"

it's all flooding back, this is only one part

this is just a bit, believe this is our bookmark

we were swept away by the current so naturally

but i don't want this to sound like

we're about to depart

 if i ever get lost

i won't turn to dust

i'mma call back,

don't forget my tone

whenever you shout out like we used to

hope we always feel like,

“Let´s do it! Fighting!”

[younghoax]

Marc Coney • New York City • 2001

“Everything will be different now. Marc’s gonna take care of us.”

He’s twelve and his mom’s smiling -really, genuinely smiling- as a man -Marc- stands in their doorway with his hands in his pockets and a smile on his face.

The man says, “Hey, Jordan. It’s nice t’meet you, kid.”

He’s got blood drying on his collar and his hair’s a little messy, but Jordan really believes him. Nick’s not been gone for long, but Marc’s taller and stronger and Jord’s got a feeling he’s got something to do with Nick picking up his shit and going for good last week.

“You too,” he smiles back as he watches Marc shut the door behind himself. He asks, “You staying for dinner?”

Marc laughs for some reason, ruffling Jordan’s hair as he passes him to flop down onto the sofa. “I’m staying for a while.”

The following months are awesome. They go to the park and shit, and Jordan has kind of outgrown shit like the park, but it’s just nice to feel so normal. Marc’s got a son; named after him, Jordan guesses, but he goes by his full name, Marco. He tags along sometimes - sleeps over on weekends and although they don’t have a hell of a lot in common (Marco’s got a year or two on him and is kind of a miserable asshole) but Jordan decides he can live with it.

Marc’s got so many friends that he’s lost count; everywhere they go, somebody stops him, and the guy has his own business and always ends up selling something, even when they’re on the move.

***

Thirteen years old and just now really understanding what a drug dealer is. Kind of embarrassing when it finally clicks into place, but at least now he understands where all the money is coming from. Some nights in the week, he hangs out at Marc’s friends’ houses and they all sit around a table and sort through different powders and plants and don’t even try to hide it from him since he admitted that he knows.

... Only problem with those guys watching over him is that, despite working for Marc, they don’t have the same friends as he does. He later discovered that it means they also don’t have the same protection. There’s this one night in September when one of the guys offers to walk him back to his apartment when he gets the okay from Marc.

“I don’t give a shit about school,” Jordan’s telling the guy whose name he thinks is Danny.

He’s one of the only names Jordan can remember, and it’s only because of the distinctness of his bone structure and the slit that he always has in his left brow. He’s younger than a lot of the other guys, but still somewhere in his mid-twenties.

The guy laughs though and, despite being a personal favourite of his, Jordan scowls at him and asks, “what’s so funny?”

He shrugs, says, “you’re just a kid. Marco was the same. You’re too young to decide what to give a shit about. Wait ‘til your-”

But he doesn’t get to finish because there’s a figure that comes out of nowhere, slamming him to the hard ground before a fist is flying into his face. There’s another guy with the first, and he’s got Jordan on the ground before the kid’s even realised Danny is down.

J’s breathing picks up, panting, panicking as this guy looms over him but doesn’t even say a word. He squirms, thinks maybe he’s not strong enough to push him off but he’s small enough to wriggle out. No such luck.

“Yo, hey hey hey,” Danny shouts, then pauses to spit on the ground beside his head, blood and saliva landing on the sidewalk as he tries to wrestle the man off of him. “He’s just a kid, man, c’mon.”

“You Nick’s kid?” The guy’s breath reeks, and Jordan shakes his head hurriedly. The stranger turns to Dan, and the guy that has the man pinned asks, “where the fuck is Nick? He fucking owes me.”

It’s just panic. Dan’s still down, trying to shove the stranger off but barely moving him an inch, and Jordan’s having no more luck. The man only has him by a hand on his shoulder, and it’s too easy and makes too much sense for Jordan to reach into his pocket, press the button--

“FUCK,” the man rolls off him and ends up in a hunched position on the ground. “Fucker stabbed me!”

“What the fuck,” the other says, and he must move as well because then Danny’s pulling Jordan up from the ground and shoving him behind himself. The knife falls from his hand, trembling as his eyes dart between the three men.

“He’s Marc’s kid. Marc Coney. You can’t fucking touch—”

“Shit.” The guy goes white – takes a few steps (limps) back. “Fuck, yeah, alright.”

Jordan doesn’t quite get what that means. He’s busy watching the hand pressed to the one stranger’s thigh turn wet and red as he holds his wound. The other man says, “Our bad man. Our bad.”

“S-sorry,” he blurts, then looks from the blood seeping through the man’s fingers to the knife on the ground, then to Danny and back again. “Sorry, I—“

“Don’t be sorry,” Danny interrupts, then looks the bleeding man dead in the eye and spits on the ground. Jordan’ll never forget that. How something so vulgar and disgusting held so much weight.

Spit at a man and you’re begging him to knock your lights out. If he doesn’t? You’ve already won.

Jordan’s pretty sure they slip away without a fight because they’ve heard Marc’s name, but when they’re a block away, Danny tells him, “you sure fucking scared them away,” then, “’ey, is this your knife,” as he looks at the weapon he’s carried from the scene. He adds, “shit, s’better than mine, keep hold of that,” as he looks down at Jordan with a half-smile, the orange streetlights bouncing off his hollow cheeks and darkening his eyes.

He still looks pretty handsome even with the cut on his mouth. A little menacing maybe, smiling despite the blood between his teeth, but he’s still just about the most powerful image Jordan’s ever seen.

When he takes the knife back, his hands aren’t shaking anymore.

Danny hangs around in their apartment for long enough to give Marc a play-by-play of the night, and the man seems pretty damn impressed by Jordan; doesn’t even seem to care how he got his hands on a knife. His son, on the other hand, sits on the couch looking unimpressed as he tells him, “that’s the stupidest fuckin’ thing I ever heard,” as he scowls between Jordan and Danny. “Who gave the kid a knife?”

Nobody cares.

***

Marc Coney is a big name. Jordan’s mom wasn’t joking a year ago when she said he’d take care of them. Fourteen years old and he can walk home at night alone because anyone that touches a hair in his head is practically sacrificing themselves.

He’s hanging out with this kid from school, Ryan, on the tennis court a few blocks from home. Jordan can’t remember the last time he saw it being used—not that they need to worry about that now, at ten o’clock at night in the winter. They’re both sat with their legs crossed; knees to knees in the centre of the court.

“There was blood on it for ages,” he tells him as he hands the knife over. “They came outa nowhere. I ain’t seen ‘em since.”

Ryan looks taken aback as he turns the knife in his hands, already flipped open. He’d jumped when Jordan pressed the button, but he figured he’d best do it himself to save the risk of his friend losing a finger. “Were you alone?”

“Neh,” Jordan shakes his head as watches the light bounce off the blade, then looks up and spots it reflect into the boy’s eye. Blue. Very very blue. And J’s never really got it, the way people go on about eyes. Never found that shit important. But fuck, are they blue. “Was with… Some guy.”

“So cool,” Ryan mumbles, right before Jordan leans over and presses his lips to his.

He hears the knife fall from the boy’s hand, and for a moment there’s a palm pressed lightly to his chest as Ryan kisses back, but then suddenly it’s shoving him away and Ryan’s looming and there’s fist pummelling into his face.

Then he’s by himself.

***

“What did he look like?” Marc’s asking a million questions before Jordan’s even said hello. “I’ll fucking kill him, I—”

“Calm down,” his mom grits through her teeth from the couch, but she’s sprawled out with her eyes shut so he’s pretty sure she has no idea what’s happening. The boiler’s broke again and she’s wearing her robe beneath the blankets and towels she’s under. She’s shivering like crazy, like she can’t control her body. Shivering so bad that her fingers are all crooked and cramped up--

“Don’t tell me to fucking calm down! This was for me, everyone knows the kid, they know I—”

“It was just some kid from school,” he interrupts him, eyes darting from Marc to his mom. Can’t decide who to give his attention to right now. “Sorry, it’s nothin’, really. Doesn’t matter.”

Marc squints, still gripping Jordan’s chin as he inspects his eye. “Some kid? What’s his name? Last name? Does he—”

“It doesn’t matter, Marc,” he insists, bats his hand away. “It’s nothing to do with you, honest. It’s my problem. I can handle myself. I think mom needs--”

“Why’d he hit you?”

Shit. “I d’know, we… We don’t get along.”

“Fuck that. I wanna know his last name. He got a dad? Brother? Fuckin' uncle? What’s the name Jordan?!”

He shoves past the man, needs to find more towels or a coat or something. He spots his own bedsheets poking out from the other layers draped over her. She can have ‘em. “I don’t know, I don’t know! It doesn’t matter!”

“People don’t get punched for fuckin’ nothing, kid!” He’s not even sure who Marc’s mad at anymore as he grabs his arm and pulls him back before he makes it across the room. When he turns Jordan back around, there’s a vein bulging from his forehead. “I’ve got a reputation, Jordan, tell me the fucki—”

“I kissed him,” he snaps. “I- I kissed him so he punched me. Just some kid.”

The red in Marc’s face doesn’t fade, and the vein in his head doesn’t deflate, but he stops shouting as he seems to take a minute to catch his breath.

“Sorry,” Jordan says. “Wasn’t meant to worry any—"

Marc wears these rings; gold rings, some with jewels and some not. When the back of his hand strikes Jordan’s cheek, all he feels is metal.

His mom is passed out by then, so he takes himself off to his room and climbs into bed, just a bare mattress now. He lays down with his clothes on but doesn’t fucking cry.

***

Things are kind of off after that. Marc doesn’t have a lot of time for Jordan, and he finds himself hanging out with Danny and the others more often. Or, getting babysat by them – but he forgets that that’s what this is, sometimes.

One evening, sat with Danny and Marco in some flat he’s never been to, Marco tells him, “my old man told me about you,” with that same look in his eye he always has; void; unimpressed; probably stoned, now that he thinks about it.

Jordan just shrugs, just says, “okay,” because God knows he ain’t in the mood for Marco’s attitude when he’s still got a scab healing on his cheek from the back of his dad’s hand.

“Says I should keep my distance. Doesn’t like fags, my old man.”

“’Ey, don’t be a dick, Marco,” Danny says, then adds, “s’alright with me,” as he nudges Jordan’s shoulder, who just looks at him confused. “If you’re a fag. I don’t give a shit,” he clarifies. “My girl’s brother’s a fag. He’s a’right.”

“Fuck off, Danny.” Jordan stands. “Both of you,” he adds before he leaves.

He decides he doesn’t need a babysitter anymore.

[cockbiteproductions]

multiples of 8, except in the misc section. all even numbers for the misc section

200: My crush’s name is: well well well this question again. you’re not getting anything out of me!!! they fucking use this website!!!

192: I am allergic to: nothing. but i found out like yesterday not everyone gets dermatographia and im kinda annoyed. what do you mean your skin doesnt get red and puffy the moment you touch it......

184: Xbox or ps3: xbox solely because of ah

176: Last YouTube video watched: my watch history says this, which is a scene from a show called billions. this scene in particular is about my favorite character asking about their introduction scene with their former mentor figure that they quickly outranked and asking why they were picked for the internship that lead them down this [entire shitpath].

168: Luck: [long sigh]. [puts on clown makeup].

[obi wan voice] im my experience there’s no such thing as luck. 

[rian voice] luck? there’s probability plausibility and actuality. luck is superstition. luck is lazy math. [winston voice] that’s what i always say.

160: Soul mates: again souls arent real..... nor do i believe that people are “meant for each other” on any sort of cosmic/larger level. you are more compatible with people based on your upbringing and your interests and your values and those are adaptable over time though some people are so different that they will never get along and other people match/complement each other incredibly well.

152: Phone or Online: lmaoooo this questionnaire once again showing its age. throwback to when these things weren’t synonymous. online for sure. what am i gonna do with a phone? talk to someone with my fucking voice? i think not.

144: Oranges or Apples: to eat by themselves? probably apples since they are easier and less of a mess. and apples are more consistently better than oranges. oranges, it’s easy to get a batch that just sucks. juiced? probably orange. i love me some fuckin orange juice. but i like apple cider more than orange juice.

136: Hillary or Obama: lmaoooo again.. the age of this. 2008 or 2012. going to guess 2008. obama but not like. enthusiastically. while he was certainly better than [what we got going on now] he still bombed the hell outta some countries......

128: Manicure or Pedicure: ive never had either but i would probably be more comfortable with a manicure. people touching my feet would make me ticklish.

120: Gay Marriage: the only type that should be allowed. sorry straights youre no longer allowed to get married. /s obviously.

112: Facebook: oh BOY are you fucking ready. are you???? im starting the readmore NOW because this is going to be something. i doubt anyone except robots maybe will actually read my deranged pro-privacy anti-facebook/social media/surveillance rant but im angry every time i think about it and if i were a more important person than a rando on the internet with a keyboard im sure facebook would hire someone to kill me one day.

FUCK FACEBOOK. FUCK THAT SHITTY ASS WEBSITE THAT AT EVERY TURN HAS BEEN REVEALED TO HAVE HORRIFYING PRACTICES OF DATA COLLECTION.

but before that, they need to pay some goddamn fucking taxes. they are profiting off the data of billions of people and getting away with paying SO LITTLE back. 

you ever hear about deepface? no this is not the beginning of a prequel meme. deepface is facebook’s facial recognition technology and facial recognition is fucking terrifying. that shit is as good as humans at facial recognition at this point. does that not scare you? that a bunch of computers can figure out if this photo contains you or not? it’s one thing if humans recognize each other, but another thing when computers who can process data almost infinitely faster than humans can are able to do it. the scale and speed at which these fucking nightmares operates is hard for us to imagine and so we are all not scared enough of what they can do. this kind of technology is so deeply privacy violating it’s hard for me to stress it enough. every image of you ever uploaded on the internet could possibly be put through facial recognition tech. and with the fact that there are cameras literally everywhere at all times now at this point it’s so fucking possible that if desired, someone could find out where you are at all times. and that gets SO scary when used by governments. are you comfortable with your government knowing where YOU are at all times? yes? what about if tomorrow your government is overthrown by a group of radicals you completely disagree with? you still comfortable with that? facial recognition is kind of a fucking pandoras box that we are opening and now that we have the technology available to us, unless we actively take steps back from it, it WILL eventually/already is being used in malicious, intensely privacy invasive ways.

and everything in that above bullet point goes for ALL DATA COLLECTED ON YOU, EVER. everything you’ve ever said on facebook is probably put through some multi layered neural network fucking robot who is learning how to understand what humans say on your input and also cataloging things about you as a person. it is doing SO MUCH more than reading the exact text of what you are saying and then picking up on keywords. neural networks are an attempt to copy how humans think by making an artificial version of a brain basically. in simple terms it’s a map of points and connections and you feed it data for a while and tell it what the desired outcome should be. it will adjust those connections and the weight of those points based on your data and expected outcome. that change in connections and weights is how it learns. then after a while it has fed on enough data that it will begin to expect what your desired outcome is. now imagine millions and millions of connections and points. it’s fucking huge. you ever hear about how we don’t know how machine learning/deep learning/neural networks works? this is that. it’s because they are so large and they have changed their weights and points so much that we no longer understand how it makes its decisions. ml is on a deeper level starting to understand what you mean when you say words. like a human. and can pick up nuances humans cannot because of its perfect memory. do you understand how scary this is? do you? i really do not know how to express this better how absolutely buckshit wild and terrifying the idea that everything i say online can be scraped and put through a robot and a profile on me and who i am and my ideals can be gathered almost instantly. how hard would it be to write a scraper that goes to my blog and grabs the text of every post in my talk tag? and then there’s free and open source nlp software (or you can pay for it) and you can feed in everything ive said on this blog ever. you can go to my facebook. you can go to my twitter. you can find my profiles on every online platform ive ever used and take everything ive ever said and determine what kind of person i am based on that. and then you can then make further distinctions based on that data. (sidenote: facebook wouldnt have to scrape the data on my profile, it’s all in their databases already. they have everything ive ever posted on public or private, on my old profile i’ve deactivated, every photo ive posted or been tagged in, everything ive ever uploaded to their servers or have been associated with.) and someone or robot can make decisions about me based on that data. it could just be am i likely to buy [this product] or it could be something much more like am i a threat? am i dangerous to you, the person using this data about me? what are my politics? what are my views on [this topic]? are they too extreme? should i be denied [real life thing] based on what this machine has determined about me from my data online? not to sound fucking crazy, but you ever watch that episode of black mirror? nosedive? and its system where you can rate interactions with people? how this one girl was trying to increase her ranking so she would qualify for a cheaper price on housing? how we’re already starting to see things like this in real life with china’s social credit system?

call me a fucking wack job but i think it’s so deeply creepy that we have digitized so many aspects of our lives and leave machines we no longer understand how they make their decisions to analyze every bit of data about ourselves.

by the fucking way facebook tracks data on people WHO DO NOT USE FACEBOOK. FACEBOOK TRACKS DATA ON PEOPLE. WHO. DO. NOT. USE. FACEBOOK. are you scared? i am.

i’ve been thinking about this tweet from @/malwaretech on twitter from a few days ago. text: On a serious note, social media tracking is more extensive than you may think. For example: those Facebook 'like' buttons you see on every website? They call home. If you're logged into your FB account, it records that you visited that web page, even if you don't click 'like'. doesn’t that sound a lil fucked up to anyone else? that facebook knows that i visited that webpage even though i did not tell it? that it will use that data to build a better profile on what my interests are and that it will use that data to better sell ads to me? i’ll be honest i am unsure of if facebook sells that information to other vendors. i think that might be not allowed but i wouldn’t be surprised if that data somehow got into the hands of people who arent facebook.

the fact that for the longest time you could NOT get your data deleted from facebook? that even if you deactivated your account facebook would still keep all of that in their shit ass servers forever? as far as i know, that’s changed now, but i would not at all be surprised if the next day it was revealed that facebook was Actually Keeping all that info anyways

the fact that by default facebook’s privacy settings are set to allow anyone to see most info about you? just this whole opt out culture is so fucking wack. it should be opt in. your privacy settings should default on the MOST PRIVATE and it should be up to you to ACTIVELY SEARCH OUT how to change them to public. it is ON FACEBOOK to actively cultivate privacy but of fucking course they don’t.

lmao cambridge analytica politics russia brexit trump. i don’t have the energy to even open this fucking can of worms but i will say that again, another layer of deeply fucked up that political campaigns can use that data to try to coerce or influence elections.

do you remember when in 2019. yes twenty. fucking. nineteen. 2019. two thousand and nineteen. 2019. i dont know how more to stress how recent but late this is. 2019. facebook admitted that it and instagram were still. STILL. STILL. S T I L L. storing passwords as plaintext? meaning your password that is “password123ilovedogs” is stored AS “password123ilovedogs” in their database. it is STANDARD AND EXPECTED PRACTICE that websites store SECURE hashes of passwords (not like fucking. md5 or something) meaning you do a bunch of fucking “irreversible” math on the password and store that instead of the actual password itself. so the db would be storing “298!79v@w8W#R;3,f9jf” instead of your actual password. anyways face. fucking. book. was storing passwords as plain text. which means if they ever have a data breach on their passwords db then all that data inside will just be your actual goddamn password. your actual goddamn password. what the fuck? what the fuck? and we still use this website? we? me? i use this website daily? i use this website on a daily fucking basis and allow it to continue to collect information on me? im so goddamn angry.

the fact that now in this day and age you are considered weird for not having any social media? super fucked up. the fact that employers will check your social media and if you don’t have one that is somehow a red flag? weird as hell. why must we participate in the world’s largest data collection scandal ever just to be a member of society? i cannot choose to opt out. facebook collects data on me even if i do not have an account. society expects me to have some form of social media and if i do not then that i am the weird one for it. if you choose to live a life of trying not to be tracked it is almost impossible. can you live your life in modern society without an email address? without a smartphone or laptop? there is an expectation that every person is available to communicate with digitally and if you find the practice of data collection abhorrent and don’t want to use websites that do so, then you’re the weird one who has a LOT of society’s services unavailable to you.

im not going to even touch on the psychological effects that facebook and social media have on people other than to ONCE AGAIN, say they are very real and deeply fucked up.

by the way check out haveibeenpwned. enter your email and it’ll check against databases to see if your email has been on recent dumps. i have been. lately there have been a few older accounts of mine that have been breached and it’s terrifying.

fuck jesse eisenberg man he fucked over spiderman crazy

fuck faang. fuck big tech. fuck data collection. btw edward snowden is a hero. fuck all of this.

104: The future: man we’re in for it. i am not optimistic about it at all. too much tech progression / not enough foresight / expansion/globalization of the world / global warming / political and economic issues are all coming to a head to make the world a fucking disaster.

96: Changed a diaper: never done it! i am not around children often.

88: Something I will really miss when I leave home is: having a vague idea of where things are locally. im very bad with directions.

86: The thing that I’m looking forward to the most: answered already.

84: People call me: yeesa, apparently. i have a fair amount of nicknames but i just call myself teresa.

82: I have gotten a speeding ticket: sure haven’t though i deserve one

80: The first person i talked to today was: soph​ because she wakes up at a normal goddamn time so i’ll sometimes have a text from her from a few hrs ago

76: Right now I am talking to: milo and a discord server im in for a group of friends i made when i was applying to college. though i havent responded in quite a while since i went on my angry facebook rant.

74: I have/will get a job: well i HAD a job for the beginning of the summer when i was a TA but i do not any more as that was first summer semester only. hopefully in the fall i’ll have a job as a TA again but who knows. and then after that when i graduate i hope hope hope hope hope i will have a job lined up.

72: Today: woke up. made a plum smoothie. played minecraft. took a nap. here i am. it’s all very riveting.

70: Next Weekend: it’ll happen for sure. odds are i will be waking up and eating food and coming on the internet and chatting with friends and doing a bit of writing and trying to learn a bit more html.

68: The worst sound in the world: answered already.

66: People that make you happy: will roland lmao. 

64: My friends are: well it’s basically the same people i tagged in my last post on people who make me happy.

62: My School: you tryin to doxx me? it’s alright. not the best for my major. and also stupidly trying to reopen for the fall because theyre greedy and idiots. it was like my 5th choice school but it is what it is.....

60: I lose all respect for people who: already answered

58: Your hair color is: black as fuck. im east asian.

56: Favorite web site: controversial but archive of our own dot org i guess. i believe in their mission and like how they have advocated for fans and have created a fan-owned space on the internet. they’re not perfect but i overall support them.

54: The worst pain I was ever in was: answered already

52: My room is: a time capsule of what i liked in late middle school/early high school.

50: Where would you like to be: im fine where i am. maybe visiting friends though. i would like to Hang With Them and Do Fun Activities.

48: Ever been in love: who’s to say....... what is love? (baby don’t hurt me). but for real the concept of love is weird to me, especially romantic love. i don’t know. i’ve certainly obsessed over people. i’ve noticed i kind of “pick people” to have crushes on. i can’t really say why. but then it creates a feedback loop of i pay more attention to them -> i think more about them -> i like them more. so i’ve made conscious decisions that have lead to me obsessing over people.

46: More guy friends or girl friends: girl but that’s just because people in fandom spaces tend to be women and most of my friends ive made through fandom.

44: One person that you wish you could see right now: kaity is coming to my town but we cant see each other because of a pandemic so im kinda fucking miffed about that. i didn’t get to see maria before she left my state so i’m also miffed about that.

42: Have you made a list of things to do before you die: lmaooooo no. i would just like to be satisfied with my life. would like to see friends. do fun things with them. 

40: Last person I got mad at: idk im not generally a mad person. mark zuckerberg probably.

38: I wish I was a professional: as in i suddenly have all the skills and talent needed to be a professional? i think a director &|| writer tbh. i would love to have the Creative Vision necessary to come up with dope ideas AND translate what i have in mind into real life. i would love the ability to be able to tell compelling stories that mean a lot to people.

32: Athlete: lmao if it was 2008 or 2012 i would ahve said ryan lochte but nevermind. idk. maybe katie ledecky.

24: Movie: am not much one for movies...... star trek 2009.

16: Book: i don’t know how to read.

8: Yankee candle scent: idk about yankee candle specifically but i love the smell of apple. 

[dyscrasia-eucrasia]

<<Prev | Next>>

Content Warning: This chapter depicts a brief scene of attempted assault

Part 9

"What's up Claykids, welcome back to my second channel, new vlogs every single day," Clayton Howard shouted at the Go Pro he held at arm's length from his face. Angel knew he was loud based on his videos, but hadn't been prepared for just how loud he really was. It took a lot of restraint not to cringe away. 

"We're here with AngelVinh96, go follow him on Insta," Clayton continued, wrapping an arm around Angel's shoulders and pulling him into frame. Angel flashed a bright smile at the camera. "Angel's here to show us how they party in West Virginia!" 

"Hiiii," Angel cooed, holding up a peace sign for the camera.

"Okay, and cut," Clayton said, and he lowered the camera, his huge smile instantly disappearing. He released his hold on Angel's shoulders. "That's good for the intro, we'll start filming again when we actually get to the club." 

The conversation had been like that since they'd met up. Clayton had been all business, talking about shots and directing not only his friends, but Angel as well. Angel couldn't help but feel disappointed. This was sort of what he'd expected talking to Demie to go like when he'd approached him after the concert - awkward and parasocial. But Demie had been easy to talk to. Clayton, on the other hand, was the worst kind of influencer, the kind that was purely a performance. 

And he'd looked so relatable on Youtube, too. 

"Alright, so where are we headed?" Clayton asked, turning to Angel. His face was so devoid of joy that it was eerie. 

"Alright, so, Broadway is the big gay nightclub," Angel said. "There's Atmosphere, but they don't have a dance floor." 

"Aw man, we're going to a gay club?" One of Clayton's crew moaned. Angel thought that that one was Jason Ransom, but he could've been Miller High. It was hard to tell, they were both blonde Californian white guys. 

"Man, shut the fuck up," Clayton said. "You can deal with gay guys hitting on you for one night." 

That was the saving grace of all this, at least. Clayton was openly bi, and even if he was just as image-obsessed as the rest of Youtube, Angel might still be able to get a hookup out of this. Plus the exposure on Youtube would really help his Instagram follower count. 

"So how long have you been a dancer?" Clayton asked as they walked down the sidewalk towards the club. Angel fought back a sigh of relief. Clayton was asking him about himself, so the guy couldn't be that self-absorbed, right? 

"Like four years?" 

"Wow, so you're like a veteran, huh? How'd you get into it?" 

"It was in college - I really, really needed money, and I mean, I did theater in high school so I already knew how to dance, just not on a pole, y'know? And then it wound up being more fun than school, so I just sort of stuck with it." 

"That's dope. So, this the place?" He nodded to a two story plantation-style house, complete with columns, with rainbow flags flying from the second story balcony. 

"Yep, this is Broadway." 

"Cool, cool, let me get some shots." 

Clayton pulled out his Go Pro again, and turned it on. As soon as he did, his face light up with a smile and he started shouting. It was eerie, like he'd flipped a switch and become a totally different person. 

"Yoooo, check it out guys, this place is DOPE!"

"Look at this Colonel Sanders looking place, fam!" One of his crew shouted behind him. 

"Let's go inside!" Clayton said as he ascended the porch steps. Angel followed after him, flashing his ID to the bouncer. 

It was a Thursday night, so the place wasn't jam-packed, and there weren't any drag shows scheduled, but the bar still thumped with dance music and there was a decently sized crowd. 

"Yo, this place is so fuckin' country, I love it," Clayton shouted over the noise as Angel led him to the bar. 

"Okay, so, my tradition here is to always start out with a shot of Fireball," Angel shouted, smiling as Clayton shoved the camera in his face. 

"Alright, yeah, show us how country kids party," Clayton shouted back. 

Angel ordered, and within a minute the bartender produced enough shots for the entire filming crew, who had gathered around the bar. Clayton took a minute to hand off his camera to one of the guys and coordinate camera angles, then picked up a shot glass. 

"Alright, on three," he shouted. "One, two, THREE!" He knocked back the shot with ease, and Angel followed suit. 

Clayton's entire body shuddered, and he yelped. "Oh shit man, that's fire!" He shouted. He looked over at Angel, who hadn't had a reaction to the shot at all. "Dude, look at this fucker, look how fucking calm he is!" Clayton grabbed the camera back and shoved it in Angel's face again. "That shit was spicy as fuck, how are you not even affected?" 

"That wasn't spicy!" Angel laughed. "That was like, white-people-spicy! It's not actually spicy!" 

"Check this guy out," Clayton shouted, "balls of fucking steel over here!" 

"C'mon, let's dance!" Angel shouted, grabbing Clayton by the strap of his tank top and pulling him towards the dance floor. 

"You heard the man," Clayton shouted into the camera, before tossing it back to one of his crew. 

Angel quickly learned that Clayton had no rhythm to speak of. He moved jankily; gyrating, but not in time to the music. He couldn't really keep up with Angel. Still, it was fun. Or at least that was what Angel told himself. He would've preferred someone who could actually dance, but it wasn't like Clayton was known for dancing or anything. It wasn't like he could really be disappointed. 

They stayed on the dance floor for a few songs, always shadowed by one of Clayton's crew, before Angel dragged Clayton back to the bar. "Okay, we gotta get more drinks!" He shouted. 

After downing another drink, they headed back to the dance floor. Clayton loosened up some, but he was still way off rhythm. 

"I gotta go take a leak," he shouted after a couple more songs. 

"Sure, bathroom's over there," Angel shouted, pointing. 

Before he could tell what was going on, Clayton grabbed the sides of his face and brought him in for a sloppy kiss. His crew hooted in drunken frat boy-style approval. 

Angel had no time to react before Clayton stumbled off the dance floor. He just stood there, stunned. Sure, he had had a crush on Clayton for ages, but this wasn't how he wanted the hookup to go down. He didn't necessarily need anything romantic, but he wanted it to at least feel like… something. Like it meant something, even if the meaning was just that they were both horny. Instead, all it felt like was that Clayton was doing it for the camera. 

He walked off the dance floor, going to lean against a wall. Clayton's cameraman followed him, and Angel hated it. He wanted a chance to think, but he had to smile for the camera. 

Clayton emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, and spotted Angel. He grabbed Angel's hand and practically dragged him over to a bench. 

"Hey, you should dance for us," Clayton said, almost collapsing onto the bench. 

"I've been dancing!" Angel laughed. 

"No, like, you should give me a lapdance or something!" Clayton shouted. 

"Um… I don't really do that outside of work," Angel said, laughing again, though this time it was tinged with anxiety. 

"C'mon, it'll be good content!" Clayton said. 

"Strip! Strip! Strip!" His cameraman started chanting. 

"C'mere," Clayton yanked on Angel's hand. Angel lost his balance and stumbled, almost falling on Clayton's lap. 

"Take it off!" The cameraman shouted as Clayton grabbed at Angel's shirt. 

"Stop," Angel said, shoving Clayton's hand away. 

"C'mon, one little lapdance," Clayton slurred, sticking a hand on Angel's crotch. 

"Fuck OFF!" Angel shouted, pushing Clayton hard and standing up. 

"Uh oh, made him mad," the cameraman jeered, coming in close with the Go Pro. 

"Get that out of my fucking face!" Angel shouted, swatting it out of the cameraman's hand. It hit the floor with an audible crack. 

"Hey, you're gonna break my camera," Clayton whined. 

"Good!" Angel shouted, kicking the camera across the floor. He didn't wait for Clayton to react. He wanted out of the bar, now. He stumbled towards the door, and out into the muggy night air. He stomped down the sidewalk, in the opposite direction from where they'd all parked to get to the bar. 

He accidentally hip-checked a public trash can, which wobbled, and then spilled. He let out a guttural shriek of frustration, walking away from it before anyone on the street could say anything. He rounded a corner and spotted a bus stop bench, collapsing onto it. 

He bent over, his head between his knees. He felt like he was going to puke, but it never came. There was nothing in his stomach to puke up. He'd starved himself all day, hoping that he'd get to hook up. 

Well, that definitely wasn't going to happen. 

He fought back tears. He didn't want to cry on a public street. He fumbled in his pocket for his phone. He knew he should get an uber, but he couldn't stop himself from opening up Instagram. There, right at the top of his feed, was a picture of himself at Broadway. Clayton had posted it, and tagged him in the post. His notifications were going crazy as people began to follow his account. 

He closed the app, pressing the top edge of his phone against his forehead. He wanted to throw the thing across the street, but knew better. 

He felt betrayed. Not like he'd ever had any trust in Clayton - they didn't even know each other - but he'd at least figured Clayton for a good person. He guessed that was why people always said you should never meet your heroes. 

He needed to talk to someone. He needed to vent. He needed someone to tell him that it would be alright, that he was more than what he made himself out to be online. 

There was only one person he could think of that would do that. Or at least had the potential to do that. 

He opened up the phone app and dialed a number. As always, the phone rang for a long time before it was finally picked up. 

"Demie?" He asked in a shaking voice. 

[nazario-sayeed]

No one like you (Kamilah x MC)

Summary: Kamilah and Amy reunite after Paris- but Amy ends up saying more than she meant to. 

Word count: Around 2000.

Author's note: I was talking with some friends that it would be fun to see Kamilah's reaction to the Paris threesome, so I thought: why not write it? I used the default name for my MC. English is not my first language, sorry if there are any mistakes. I wrote this quicker than I'm used to so it might be shitty it probably is. 

Rating: I'm saying 18+ to be safe but there's nothing explicit. 

Also, I listened to the song Stars Dance by Selena Gomez while writing this, so it's my suggestion for you guys.  

Tag list:  @nazariortega  @duchess-ash-flame  @lahelalove @carreraleigh @donutsgirl36 @queenkaneko @msjpuddleduck @quinnskelly @flyawayboo @brightpinkpeppercorn @jlpplays1 @desiree-0816 @sibella-plays-choices @embarassingsmartphonegame @mfackenthal @iam-the-fuckin-queen @loversintheshadow27 @sleeping-with-her06 @emisondifields @shreya-mackenzie @galaxyside-0 @gavryllo

"We should probably get some rest now, and at dusk we leave to talk to Dracula" Kamilah said when they arrived at the hotel lobby, like it was the most casual thing in the world. "Lily and I already have rooms, but I'll check you in."

Amy placed a hand on Kamilah's shoulder before she could walk to the receptionist desk.

"Kamilah, maybe you could get only two more rooms? For Jax and Adrian, I mean. We could share, if that's okay with you." Amy suggested, shyly. Although they have been together for months now, they never really had the talk. They knew they cared deeply about each other, but had never put labels or boundaries on their relationship. Kamilah eyed her curiously and smirked, before placing a gentle hand on the other woman's cheek.

"Of course, Amy. I was already going to do that. I've missed you these past days" she leaned in and sweetly kissed her lips, making Amy tremble from head to toe, before walking away to book the rooms. Amy stared dumbfolded and a bit flushed as the vampire elegantly crossed the lobby. She still hadn't gotten used to the power Kamilah had over her- and over pretty much everything and everyone else. Kamilah could make her weak on her knees when she was being her normal self, stoic and determined, but Amy felt like she would melt into a puddle everytime the vampire showed her more tender side. The fact that a woman as amazing as Kamilah could feel this kind of affection towards her made her feel dizzy.

The two women went to the luxurious suite Kamilah got for them after saying goodbye to the rest of the group. As they walked in, Amy's jaw dropped to the floor.

"Woah… Kamilah, this room is incredible!" she said, taking in all the beauty of the place. Everything looked fancy and romantic, and Amy couldn't control her urge to throw herself in the huge bed. She honestly thought it was the most comfortable bed she had ever laid on.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it, Amy" Kamilah smiled and opened a bottle of wine, pouring it into two glasses. She walked to the bed and sat next to the young woman who had a content smile on her face now, offering her the wine. Their fingers brushed against each other when Kamilah handed her the glass, and Amy felt a warm tingling sensation where they briefly touched. She let out an exhausted sigh.

"After everything that happened in Paris, I feel like this exactly what I need. This bed is so comfortable I can almost forget that less than a day ago I had to fight my way out of a bloodshed" she said, kind of joking, but it backfired. Her mind immediately filled with the images of that crazy night: the Order killing vampires and humans left and right, the strong smell of blood invading her senses, Serafine being dragged away like an animal... But the most traumatic memory of all was Adrian attacking the Order's soldiers like a beast, so changed and taken by fury that she could barely remember he was a person at that point. Something on her face must have given her away, because she felt Kamilah's hand on her arm.

"Are you okay, Amy?" the bloodkeeper still felt surprised when Kamilah used such a gentle tone with her. For the rest of the world, Kamilah was cold, intense, and closed off. But Amy had seen a part of her that she wouldn't show to everyone: a caring, warm and almost loving side.

"I'm trying to be." she took a long sip of her wine before continuing "It's just… One minute, I was having fun with Adrian and Jax on a private lounge and in the next the Order had invaded Serafine's club and it became pure chaos, you know? And not the good kind of chaos. I can't stop thinking about it" she let out in one breath, her voice shaky. Kamilah ran a hand up and down the other woman's arm trying to comfort her; it wasn't much, but Amy would always feel calmer when Kamilah touched her. Her touch was addictive and somehow magical.

"They're gonna pay, Amy. We'll make sure of that. Those people... They're way passed civility. What they've done it's unforgivable. Adrian's reaction was… extreme. But I do get it. In moments like that, it's easy to let the anger go over your head, it's easy to lose control." she said, and Amy could see in her face that was there was a lot on her mind. She looked hurt and angry for a few seconds, but soon her face changed, like she had just realized something. Kamilah turned to Amy with an eyebrow raised.

"You said you were having fun on a private lounge with Adrian and Jax? What were you doing there?" she asked. Oh shit. "Knowing you, I'd imagine you'd like to stay in the middle of the club taking everything in. I've been to Serafine's club before, I know how interesting things can get. And you are a very curious woman, Amy." she said, and Amy's face immediately turned red. Fuck. She didn't even notice she had mentioned the private area. Kamilah eyed her with interest, waiting for her answer.

"Oh… Uhh… We were, huh" she stumbled on her words. She didn't wanna lie to Kamilah. They weren't exclusive or anything, but telling her that she had a threesome with two others council members was an uncomfortable situation to say the very least. She was feeling suddenly shy and could feel her heartbeat quickening. When her eyes met Kamilah's, the vampire seemed almost amused. Like she knew what happened, but wanted Amy to say it. Amy blushed even harder.

"Things got pretty interesting at the lounge too" she admitted, looking down. Kamilah held back a chuckle.

"Really? How interesting?" she teased, smirking.

"Uh… I think you know, Kamilah." she said, avoiding her gaze. Kamilah smiled and put her fingers on Amy's chin, tilting it up so she could look into her eyes.

"Oh, I have an idea, yes. But please, do enlighten me." she told Amy, and the bloodkeeper knew it wasn't a suggestion. Kamilah's firm tone made her want to do everything and anything she told her to.

"We… uh... " she felt her face burning, but Kamilah didn't back down. Amy let out a long breath and blurted out the next words "We had sex, okay?"

Kamilah was enjoying herself way too much. She didn't really mind that Amy kept seeing other people. But she looked adorable all flushed and bothered, and Kamilah couldn't help herself. The fact that Kamilah could feel attracted to one person at all was pleasant enough, but monogamy seemed like a concept destined for failure when it came to humans- their lives were too short and they felt way too much.

"I thought so. Jax or Adrian?"

Amy looked at Kamilah thinking she was teasing, but the vampire seen legitimately curious. Shit. If she could possibly blush harder, she would've.

"Uh, actually… both." Amy admitted and buried her face in her hands, embarrassed. Kamilah's eyes went wild and her jaw fell open.

"Both?!" she couldn't hide the surprise in her voice. She cleared her throat, trying to disguise it. Amy sighed and cautiously removed her hands from her face, looking at Kamilah. Her face was emotionless once again.

"Yeah… I guess we got carried away. The ambience was very suggestive, we had a couple of drinks..." Amy trailed off, trying to explain herself. Kamilah didn't respond so she went on "Are you mad? You know how much I care about you, and we never really said anything about being exclusive, but I don't know what you're thin-"

"No" Kamilah cut her off. Her voice sounded a little more harsh than she wanted. She reached out a place a hand on Amy's, giving it a little squeeze and speaking again, with a more delicate tone "I'm not mad, Amy. I think it's charming that your heart- and apparently other parts of you as well- are open to more than one person." Amy felt herself blushing again but Kamilah was smiling. The vampire pulled Amy to her, and they laid back together on the pillows, Kamilah's arms wrapped around Amy. "I know how limited most humans can be when it comes to relationships and monogamy. But when you've lived as long as I have, you tend to think jealousy is a frivolous emotion."  

"What about you, Kamilah?"

"What about me?"

"Are you also open for other people?" she asked tentatively. She wouldn't mind if Kamilah said yes, but she was kinda hoping she wouldn't. Amy had feelings for Adrian and Jax, yes, but what she felt for Kamilah was completely different. It was so intense, so passionate, so unique. She had fun with the boys and she cared about them, but Kamilah held a special place deep in her heart. If she wanted Amy to stop seeing them, the bloodkeeper would do it in a heartbeat.

"Amy, before you I didn't even know there was still a place for romantic feelings in my life. I thought I had grown out of it. But then you came along and reminded me of what's like to care about someone. I hadn't felt attracted to someone for a long time. Until I met you. You are... something else." Kamilah said tenderly, and kissed the top of her head.

"So… that means you don't have anyone else?" Amy asked, just to be sure, and Kamilah chuckled.

"No, Amy, I don't have anyone else." she confirmed, and then tilted the other woman's head so their eyes met. Amy felt a chill run through her body; Kamilah's gaze was intense, and so was her voice "And even though I don't mind that you are also dating Adrian and Jax, you know I could make you forget both of them in a second, don't you?"

Amy felt hypnotized. The feeling of Kamilah's fingertip on her chin was too much and not enough at all, at the same time. Amy's breath got caught in her throat and her heart started to beat faster inside her chest. She couldn't force her mind to form words; and before the young woman could even blink, Kamilah straddled her hips and gently pushed the collar of Amy's shirt down and placed a kiss on her neck, making her gasp. She moved her mouth to whisper on her ear "And I know that neither of them come even close to me."

Kamilah placed a hand inside one of Amy's thigh, moving it up so they were under her skirt and dangerously close to where Amy wanted her the most. Amy tried to move so she could feel any kind of contact, but Kamilah kept her still with ease. The vampire moved her face so her crimson red eyes were looking directly into Amy's brown ones.

"Kamilah, please..." Amy whispered, dignity nowhere to be found. Kamilah had barely touched her and she was already at her mercy.

"Please what, Amy?" she whispered above Amy's mouth, with a firm tone. Their lips were inches apart.

"Please, touch me" Amy begged, desperate to feel what only Kamilah could give her.

"Good girl" Kamilah smirked before leaning down to hungrily kiss her. She let her hand move to between Amy's leg, making her moan into the vampire's mouth and melt into her touch.

It didn't take look until Amy was screaming Kamilah's name, overtaken with pleasure and lost in Kamilah's spell. She used her hands and mouth to remind Amy that no one else could make her feel like she did.

Many hours later, Amy felt worn out. Her legs were shaking and she felt like she wouldn't be able to walk for at least a week. She was panting, flushed and breathless by Kamilah's side. The vampire had a content smirk on her face, but she had barely broken a sweat- and it was more than enough to turn Amy into a euphoric mess.

Her heart was pounding inside her chest and she couldn't bring herself to form a coherent sentence. But there was one thing on her mind: Jax and Adrian who? 

[hearteyes-for-killmonger]

One Night Only 2, Part 6

A/N: This one is a flashback from ONO 1 only it's from Erik's perspective. For @muse-of-mbaku

---

Twenty-three days had passed since Erik had seen Y/N and he was in Ontario, Canada backstage with a cup of hot water, lemon, and honey as he listened to the crowd of thousands. A cough drop rolled on his tongue as he waited. The opening act was a young duo who needed exposure. They definitely had the talent. They performed their asses off living in their moment and he smiled at the energy they brung. The crowd was really feeling them.

(Y/N) I miss you

The message on his phone screen was the same one that had been there for the past twenty days. It may as well have been his screensaver at this point. For the eighteenth time in the day alone, he re-read the three small words in the nearly empty text thread. He could imagine Y/N's voice in his head telling it to him. He could still hear her, thinking of when she yelled after him in the airport. The memory always made him smile.

Don't respond, he told himself. She needs this time to develop who she is and you'll only become her crutch if you respond now.

The truth of the matter was usually enough to get him to put the phone down.. This time, however, despite his best efforts, his thumb hovered on the screen ready to respond. He typed four words before he stopped himself, deleting them character by character. Be strong. You can make it.

Whether he was thinking about her or himself, he wasn't sure, but he knew if he texted her now, they'd never stop talking. She'd never get the opportunity to move on and to grow alone. She'd gone from relationship to depression to relationship. She needed time to live with just herself so that she could discover herself without anyone else's input and find out what it meant to live for only one person, chasing her own dreams and desires.

For her own good, he had to ignore her.

The performance ended with a howl of screams and applause for the duo. The dramatic shift occurred where the music for Erik's set came in and the crowd went wild. It was time for Erik to go on, they were calling for him.

This is for you, he thought darkening the phone screen and running out onto the stage jumping with the mic in his hand.

From now on, everything I do is for you.

---

Ontario, Montreal, Vegas, New Orleans, Atlanta, Houston, Chicago, London, Bucharest, Rio, Lima, Brasilia, Lagos, Accra, Nairobi, Cape Town, Johannesburg, LA, Detroit, Anchorage.

Another stop, another city, another set with him pouring everything out on stage and exhausting himself, sweaty but satisfied. More nights with women throwing their bras and thongs onto the stage and coming backstage.

He's sure to wink at a few women when their eyes meet as he's performing. Their cameras are on him and he knows they'll go back and look at the footage later especially if they plan to post it somewhere. He gives one young lady with long blonde braids the mic watching her finish his lyrics as he bobs his head along with her. The moment in the car with Y/N when his song came on the radio comes to mind as he grins throwing the girl a t-shirt. He must've done that in four different cities. Everytime.. he had to smile because he couldn't stop seeing and hearing Y/N in those girls. He kissed one girl on the cheek and she almost passed out. He had to catch her and hold her for a second until she was okay.

Backstage meets were full of loyal fans, some down to earth and some a little crazy. He could always pinpoint the ones who felt entitled to him simply because they paid for a backstage pass. He was cordial with them, but he refused to put up a front to satisfy their expectations of him. He was Erik Stevens, a nigga from Cali.. and this puffed up image of him that the media sold was just that, puffed up. The ones who could vibe without demanding a performance of a character were the ones he preferred to mix with backstage.

He gave handshakes, dapped up, and hugged those who came on equal footing as souls connecting to the music. He fucked the ones who came as groupies, their love for his music so strong it transferred onto him. Some of them had been attracted to him from day one to the point they actually started listening to his music because of it. Some of them, their intentions from the very beginning were simply to have sex with someone famous. He gave them what they wanted. He fucked them all.. if they were attractive. 

He didn't fuck the women with those bright hopeful eyes though nor did he fuck the ones with sad eyes. There could only be one of those for him now. Every time a woman looked up at him like he was her hero it only served as a reminder of that fateful day that forever changed the way he thought about love.

---

"It's been five months... The fuck is she doing," Erik snapped.

He'd long been off tour and yet Y/N hadn't come. He clearly recalled asking her to come to him when they were together. He thought she would. He'd hoped that she would. He wanted her face to be the one he saw once his tour had ended. He wanted her in his bed and in his house. Alas, she had not arrived.

"She doing her.. Ain't that what you told her to do," Corey replied smartly over the phone.

He did, but he ain't expect it to take this long. It had been TOO long. She should've found him when his tour was over. He could've been helping her right now instead of talking to this nigga over the phone. Well, he could still help her... and matter of fact, he would.

He floated her name to a few people in his circle in hopes that they could scout or create opportunities for her. Anything that he could do without overstepping or making it obvious.

---

Nine months and he was still waiting on the woman who'd come into his life and turned it inside out. He read her text message again. It was starting to feel like a fever dream, their time together. It was like living months without his heartbeat. He'd been reduced to checking her social media accounts that he'd gotten hold of regularly just to get glimpses of her, making sure she was doing well. He'd created a separate account just do he could follow her and lurk without her knowing. This way, he didn't have to sweat over accidentally double tapping or hitting the heart. He could also view her lives without his name appearing. This eased his mind because he felt closer to her, but it still was not close enough. He was happy to see her coming into her own gradually and he loved the glimpses into her life, but he wanted to be part of it.

The day finally came when he saw her pictured with another nigga, light skin with freckles like an old banana. Who was that nigga? He dug through the comments and looked for any tags following them until he found the profile. James Porleau.

Porleau. His lip twisted in irritation scrolling through the man's account... also known as Jimmy.

Well fuck you, Jimmy, he thought as he scrolled. He went back to the photo of them together. They'd both posted it and it set off red flags in his mind. Stop it, he told himself. She needs this, and how many women have you fucked? Let her get it out of her system. 

That was until a week later he saw that her IG account was suddenly on private and that blew him. Wrong move, babe. Luckily his fake account was already following her so he could still see her posts.

"Corey tell her take her Instagram off private. Can't nobody like or enjoy her shit if they can't access it."

"I ain't even know it was on private.. how'd you know? Damn you a stalker for real, huh?"

"I'm just checking on her."

"Riiight," Corey drags, "... You musta seen Jimmy," he chuckles.

"Who is he anyway?" It wasn't worth pretending he hadn't.

"A placeholder.... She misses you but she need dick to keep her warm at night and you not here. I keep telling you to just pop up on her. That nigga would disappear real quick."

"I can't. She's in her zone right now, growing, and if I pop up she might get distracted. This is all healthy for her...I just don't like that nigga." Looking at the two of them together made him uneasy. "I'm a look into him to make sure. Just to be safe."

"Nigga," Corey laughed on the other end.

"I'm serious."

"They not. They just fuckin around."

---

Fuckin around. Who fucks around like this for months? Y/N and Jimmy seemed to be going strong and there was nothing in Jimmy's past that Erik could hold up or frown on. He was a lawyer and a decent guy it seemed. Inside, he was conflicted. He didn't want them together because it made his heart burn, but at the same time she WAS his heart and he was glad she wasn't alone. There were five photos with him and Y/N together. He swallowed his emotions and continued to scroll.

He could see pictures posted at Corey's engagement party. The shoes he'd bought. He rolled his eyes still not believing he'd bought a grown man's shoes. Mostly, he'd scrolled the feed to get glimpses of Y/N. She looked as beautiful as ever and despite the turmoil boiling in his gut due to the fact that she was still too far away, he was glad to see she had a big smile on her face where she was. 

He felt like a fan.

---

"She quit her job," Corey blurted when Erik answered the phone. Erik had just left a meeting with his manager and PR person to discuss some of his most recent behavior. He'd cussed out a white guy who'd bought backstage passes and wasn't satisfied because Erik didn't cater to him. The guy tried to force Erik to pay more attention to him but Erik refused to be treated like a toy. The guy deserved worse than the few choice words he got and Erik made that known when he refused to apologize or do anything to make the situation go away. He simply didn't care. 'Figure it out. I'm not doing shit,' he'd told them before storming out.

"She q-.. Is that good or bad? She need money?"

"Nigga. Who don't need money?"

"I'll say it like this.. Is she in danger of losing her apartment or not eating?"

"Nah nah.. Nah, never that. She getting money from her social networking. She one of them influencers now."

"Oh damn.. Is she happy?"

"Oh yeah. She happy as hell, her lil pickle head ass dancing all over the living room right now."

"She don't know you talking to me right?"

"She in there with Anaya not thinking about my ass. See, “BIG OL FREAK, BIG BOOT BIG OL TREAT.. see they ain't paying no attention."

"Nigga, I slid you that track in secret because you were a Megan fan, damn! Don't make me regret it! It ain't out yet... I gotta get my verse together."

---

The day came where Y/N finally released her own original music, music she'd written and arranged herself. He sat in his Ferrari 488GTB with his phone connected by bluetooth and the music playing through his speakers. He'd been waiting a year to hear her song and now that the time had come,  he rested his head against the headrest and let the sound caress his ears. Her soulful, smooth, and angelic voice rode the beat with precision. With the volume up and the sound enveloping him, it felt like she was there and singing directly to him. This about me, he thought with a lazy smile listening to her words. That nigga couldn't make her feel like this.. and I know it ain't about her ex.. Nah, it's definitely about me. The thought had him replaying it and for the next week it was his go to song. He knew every word and could sing it. He often did when he was alone.

From singing covers to her own original music, she'd taken large strides. He was impressed and proud that she'd worked hard to carry out her vision to accomplish her dream. He could not stop grinning whenever he heard her song... and then he heard it in public. He was out and about and he heard it, it was brief, but enough for him to recognize it. His stomach was leaping. He looked around for the source, but it had been so quick. That's my baby. His chest was swelling, heart full. That's when he knew for a fact she'd made it.

---

Erik witnessed the success of her EP and bragged on her where he could, of course not to the point of it being loud or widespread enough for it to get back to her. He was careful not to tempt her into cutting off her progress for some haphazard reunion. Of course, he was still fuckin groupies left and right.

He saw the explosion in her social media for himself, her verified side account so that her main could be reserved for her inner circle. He saw all the plays she got on Pandora, Spotify, iTunes, and YouTube. He could finally Google her and see her on multiple platforms. She was linked to him. Their names were still used together, but she was standing alone as well.

She'd gotten fans and followers. Lotta comments and likes. Aight now.. Drake.. back the fuck up. Along with her fame came the thirst. Hella niggas were liking her pictures and leaving random emojis.

"Ayo Corey, tell me something. I need an update. What's she doing? What she need?"

"I remember her saying she need a signed jersey from Steph Curry. She's really been into basketball lately for some reason. She'd love that."

"How bout I send this size 12 foot up ya ass?"

"You still violent as ever, I see. Ornery... You been getting any cheeks?"

"Groupie pussy don't hit the same."

"Not when you've had that number one superfan pussy!"

"Don't remind me. That bitch was crazy."

"But her pussy was fire wuh'nit?"

"She was fuckin crazy. You almost got sniped for that, sending me crazy bitches. You lucky I been in therapy for so long."

"How was I supposed to know the bitch was nuts, she seemed normal to me, I just thought she was a nice lady."

"Nah. I knew something was off. Shouldn't have fucked her."

"Can't unfuck her, but you can hire extra security."

"Nah. If she come around, I'm a handle her."

"Careful E... you soundin like the old you. I know you wanna keep control n'shit."

"Oh I'm in control. I got security, but if she push me they can't protect her from me but for so long."

"Remember she a woman. Though she a bitch, she a bitch with titties.. I guess you supposed to be more gentle.. because of the titties..."

"Yeah well she ain't finna have no titties fuckin wit me. I was taught to believe in equal rights of the sexes."

Click.

Hm? He hung up. Must've been Anaya or someone who walked in.

---

Erik had seen Corey's wedding photos and short clips and through he didn't comment, he congratulated him ans sent a gift. He lurked Y/N's social media catching up on her photos and videos. He was beginning to forget what she tasted like, but when he stared at her through his screen ge could imagine. He was a ghost haunting her pages. He'd become the very thing he'd warned her against. He was stuck on her.

She hadn't posted yet. Every time he scrolled, it was like Russian Roulette. He had to continuously remind himself to check that he was using the lurking account and not his actual account. Also, he was never sure what he'd find. Sometimes the content filled him with intense pride and joy, but sometimes it hurt. That nigga still seemed to be close to her and it got under his skin. She was supposed to fuck around with him and move onto another one, but this nigga was consuming ALL the time that Erik was sacrificing.

He wanted to get on her live.. it was an impulse whenever he visited her page and she had one. THE NIGGA WAS IN THE LIVE. Given, he wasn't the only one there, but still. Erik's jaw tightened and his eyes shut tightly putting the phone against his forehead before putting it away. He needed to think of something different. He needed to go on with his busy ass day.

---

Another year had officially passed.

Pictures posted of Y/N with her and the Corey's baby smiling and glowing living their best fuckin life. Erik didn't want to be bitter, but he couldn't hello that part of him felt bitter. He was lonely. He could see Corey was happy and flexin with Anaya. He'd found a good thing.

Erik wanted to be happy like that, but he couldn't and it wasn't for lack of trying. No matter how many models he went through, how many groupies he fucked, he was still lonely. He laid in bed with other girls as they were passed out from all the sex, scanning through Y/N's pictures. He still had that photo he'd taken when they were in bed together and he was flipping off the camera. It felt like ten years ago instead of two, but emotionally it still felt like yesterday.

Don't know what you're doing off camera.. Wonder what you're doing and if you really moved on..

I sound insecure right now.

Put the phone down. Turn the phone off.

24 hours. Erik kept it off.

The next morning when Erik turned him phone on, his manager had a lot to say. The main thing being, "You ain't answer your phone."

Erik laughed dryly having just gotten chewed out. What could he say?

"It died," he lied. "What'd you wanna say tho?"

---

Typically, Erik could distract himself and push his feelings aside, but he'd seen something this time that he couldn't push aside in his mind. It was a photo of Y/N and that nigga kissing on the lips, the caption: 'I love this man.'

She'd dropped the L word and Erik couldn't breathe. He looked at the phone staring from the word to the picture. It was a punch in the stomach. Had he been waiting on her in vain? Had she chosen this banana faced bitch? Had she really decided to be with him?

Erik had to sit down. He laid down the phone and gripped at his face which was hot, dragging his cheeks down with his palms, fingers sliding down his face. Facepalm. Her with this nigga AGAIN. He wanted to cry.

They ain't look bad together and that seemed to be a popular consensus based on the comments. It made his eye twitch.

He sighed deeply, his jaw tightening. His head felt like it would pop. She was raising his blood pressure and he had to breathe, blinking as he stared at nothing to calm himself. It didn't look like they were just fuckin. They were entirely too close, spending too much time together to say there were no feelings and now he knew. She loved him.

He stood abruptly pacing the floor of his living room. His ear itched at the entire situation and he scratched wildly in irritation releasing his frustration in a loud, "FUCK."

He needed to jog. Stopping short, he decided fuck jogging, he'd hit the bag. In his home gym, he paced and punched the body bag until his fists went numb with pain to match the confusing and excruciating feeling in his heart. He fell to the floor onto his back, sweat covering his face as he tried to shut down his racing mind, chest heaving.

One time. He'd allow himself to see her one time. He had to see her up close even if it was a goodbye. He looked her up to see her next performance. It was at a club called Sapphire. He laid there on the ground thinking of her song and all the times he'd played it. He was starting to think he was wrong about who she was singing to all along.

---

The performance went without a flaw while Erik stood in the back of the crowded club with his hood pulled up, listening with his ears and saying goodbye with his heart. If she wanted him, he'd fight, but if she wanted that other nigga and he truly made her happy, he'd let her go.

The entire performance, he wished her the best, still more excited for her than anyone when she got nothing but applause and positive feedback. He wanted badly to walk up and grab her hand just to confirm that his eyes still held power over her, her heart, and her knees... but he resisted. He'd have stayed longer, but when he started to get recognized, it became a problem

The first woman to recognize him gaped, her mouth and eyes wide. He signaled for her to be quiet with his finger over his lips. When the third person recognized him, it was time to go. He had to leave before word got out that he was there.

---

"Nigga, you are dumb as hell. Them pictures don't mean shit. They ain't even together no more. You depressed for what?"

"I'm not depressed, I'm working."

"This would all be solved if you'd bring ya ass over here then you'd see for yourself... You should've approached her at the club. She'd have lost her fuckin mind and been with you right now, but y'all both wanna be stubborn."

"Well then if that's true... I'm not gonna rush her or or cut off her relationship. I've BEEN ready. I'm just waiting on her. When she's ready she'll come."

"You finna be waiting a decade."

"Aye.. So be it."

There was a strain that Erik could hear. Corey was the middle point and he was trying hard to keep the two of them connected but there was only so much he could do. Erik felt his frustration, but his resolve was strong.

"..UUUUUGH, Y'ALL GET ON MY DAMN NERVES," Corey groaned.

---

3 months passed and Erik was with his lawyer, manager, and producer reworking contracts that would be re-signed. Apparently, his lawyer was peeping shit he missed, earning his check. Erik figured he'd need a new producer soon. This one was sheisty and he didn't wanna have to threaten him or worse. It was best to work with someone else and this lawyer seemed to be doing well with determining the producer's breach of contract making it void.

"One second," Erik put a finger up walking out of the conference room. Typically, he would never walk out of a meeting that serious, but he saw a name on his screen with a new message from a number that hadn't contacted him in two years.

Holding his breath, he opened it.

(Y/N) I'm in Cali can we meet

@imaginewhoever @goddessofthundathighs @panthergoddessbast @thadelightfulone @misspooh @marvelmaree @youreadthatright @forbeautyandlife @theunsweetenedtruth @bidibidibombaclaat @myboyfriendgiriboy @dameshaemonique @blackpantherimagine   @vikkidc @hidden-treasures21 @mysidefanting @hold-me-like-a-heart-beat @syndrlla97 @winteroflife @thotyana-in-this-hoe   @texasbama @gingerylimonte @princessstevens   @magic-madness-heavensin @wawakanda-btch @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @wakanda-inspired @blackgirloneshots @thegucciwaffle @thiccdaddy-mbaku @drsunshine97 @purplehairgawdess @trevantesbrat @indigoxsummers @cccccx1   @dynastylnoire @iamrheaspeaks @blowmymbackout @fonville-designs @they-call-me-le @theblulife @raysunshine78 @sheisexcellent @blackpinup22

[hollowcrovvn]

The Ostensive Fumblings of Being Human (part 7)

Pairing: Connor x female!reader

Rating: T

Summary: January 2039. The aftermath of the revolution continues to shake the city of Detroit. Androids are living in government provided communities while efforts are being made to integrate them into society. You are a grad-student volunteering with the Detroit Crisis Response Unit (DCRU), working to help with relief efforts. Set within the backdrop of the slowing growing Android Rights Movement, Connor, newly deviant, is trying to understand what it means to be alive while many others like him seek equality and justice.

Chapter Summary: You deal with the fallout of your actions the previous evening and get brought up to speed on some past events.

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6) (ao3)

Tagged: @shaydeevee33 @easy-and-steady @goldie516 @house-arya @untilwearestarsinthesky @rainbowsithlord 

Leaving the DPD had felt like a scene out of The Green Mile . Dead man walking. Either you got disapproving looks or looks of marked concern based on the deep circles that had finally caught up under your eyes and the fact you had blood still on your hair and smeared on your neck. You hadn't been allowed to wash it off because, you found out, what happens when your hostage taker gets shot is your entire bloodied self becomes a piece of evidence. Filed away now in the DPD systems were photos of you, face blurred out looking exhausted and splattered red with gore. A little factoid you had never known about and wished you still didn't.

You resisted the urge to itch the spots of dried blood, knowing that the feeling was just in your head and you didn't particularly want it under your nails. That led to another slew of invasive thoughts that you pressed down as quickly as possible.

From another hall, Gavin gingerly walked out, stiff and with a face patched up with butterfly strips and cotton shoved up his nose. People clapped, a well meaning jeer at his expense, as he waved to the crowds like the Queen of England, tossing his jacket over his shoulder.

"Fuck you all, collectively and individually!" he said and you wished you could bring yourself to shuffle passed him quietly but when you came up along side him you worked up the courage to speak.

"Detective Reed?"

He paused, turning to look at you and said with a nasally voice, "Hey, if it ain't the worst Valentine of my life." but a smile followed the words.

"I'm really--"

Did "sorry" even begin to cover it?

"Don't worry about it." Gavin said before you could make that decision, walking you out to the lobby, "If you hadn't of been there, tin-can probably woulda let me get clipped. My cover was blown way before you showed up. If they had your face, they probably already had mine and I was cruisin' for a beat down or worse."

There was no way they could possibly know that and it became apparent to you he was trying to make you feel better.

"And now I get a nice paid vacation." Gavin said, "And believe it or not, from what I hear, you being there mighta been a break. But you didn't hear it from me."

It was late, later than you were accustomed to but not by much. A clock in the lobby read 3am, but the absence of people was also a great sign of how clearly dark it was. Like you it seemed, the good girls and boys of the DPD did not sleep.

"Look. Even I gotta go get head shrinked now because I got beat on and tin-can killed those two shitheads." Gavin began, "And I've been doing this for years. Trust me. It helps."

Gavin pulled a pack of cigarettes from his jacket, putting one between his lips in preparation for both your exit. He held the door open for you even, but with a level of distance that let you know it was out of character for him to be so polite.

"Again. You didn't hear that from me."

He lit it and took a long drag and exhaled, checking to make sure the cotton balls were still in place. He gave you a once over before offering the bud to you. The quickness in which you made a disgusted face drew a gruff laugh from him.

"Go home, valentine. Get some fuckin' sleep, cause you look like a crazy lady.  Have a meal that ain't caffeine why you're at it."

"Or smoke?" you asked, waving away a cloud.

"Ex-actly." Gavin said, punctuating by taking another long drag. Gavin walked you to the curb, hitting the flashing light by the waiting cabs. The door slid open.

"By all means." he said, gesturing that you should take it. You folded into the auto driving cab and Gavin leaned against the top of the car, "See ya around, ---."

He patted the top of the cab and the door shut, leaving you in warm lowlight darkness.

Your apartment was dark when you got home and cold, or maybe that was just you. You hadn't felt warm in hours and the only thing you wanted was to take a shower. You flicked on a table light, moving across the living room to the bathroom and discarding the DPD hoodie and sweats as you went. They had taken your bra because the blood soaked through, but your underwear you still had.

How considerate. you thought, laughing out a sound that was more like a sob.

You moved so slow, feeling like the hands that turned the faucet's on were far away. The water was hot enough to sting, but you stepped in anyway, gasping at the heat. You watched pink rivers slip from your head down your legs and flow into the white basin, disappearing down the drain. You grabbed a bottle of shampoo and scrubbed hard at your scalp, washing again and again until the foam on your hands was pure white and your hair felt stripped.

The crying came on suddenly when you lingered too long on the smell of smoke, the blast of heat and now the press of a gun on your hip, the smell of stale beer and the sounds of gunfire... the image of Connor, staring at you as if he didn't even know you. You pressed your forehead into the tile, letting water hit your back, skin flushing up hot and red.

"Stop." you mumbled to yourself, trying to force the images out, " Stop it, you idiot."

Quit torturing yourself. But it felt good to finally just relent and let yourself cry as much as you wanted. When you could no longer bare the hot water, you shut it off, wrapped up in a towel and walked dripping into your bedroom. You'd already taken the time in the cab to call off the next week, so you picked a pair of shorts and a tank that looked suitable for absolutely living in for the next few days and, still wet, sulked into your living room to sit down.

Distraction. You needed a distraction.

"TV on." you said, and the screen came to life with the display menu of your library. The menu played quiet music, ethereal and electronic and you found yourself just sitting and listening, letting your mind retreat far away into numbed oblivion. The sound of the door opening then scared you so badly you yelped as you sprung to your feet.

"Whose there?!" you shouted, heart hammering.

Quietly, Connor appeared in the door, shutting it behind him. He stood there at the front, not responding to you and keeping his eyes fixed on the ground. He'd changed, still in a suit and dress pants, but no longer splattered with blood. You could hear the creek of the metal as his hand was frozen, gripping the door before finally letting go with a rattle. You could see from where you were standing that his LED was still bright red.

"Connor." you said, feeling a sudden wave of relief, but it was quickly replaced by exasperated, "Jesus, you could have called or something."

Your breath slowed a bit, your expression morphing into one of confusion. Connor seemed to be taking a moment to compose himself before he spoke, tone controlled and methodical.

"You could have been killed today. Do you understand?"

"I was--"

" No. " Connor interrupted, "You could have been killed today, verify you understand."

"Yeah, I understand." you said, feeling a faint bubbling of your own anger brewing beneath the layers as you crossed your arms.

"Lieutenant Anderson should have charged you with obstruction." he said and you felt a sharp stab of hurt at how easily he did so, "Then you wouldn't ever do something this reckless again."

"I thought we were friends ." you said, curling your fists as if that would hold back your anger at this sudden attack.

"We are." Connor said, meeting your eyes at last, "But we almost weren't anymore. Because of what you did. Because of what they could have done."

Connor moved away from the door, pacing in a small trail. He indulged a nervous tick you noted of worrying his hands, wringing them in circles around each other.

“And the thought of you being gone… of there being no more books, no more visiting, no more talking… no more watching you smile or laugh… the sound of your breath when you fall asleep. All of it just gone? ”

His LED was red, solid and holding like the breath in your lungs as you listened to Connor and heard the pain and saw the conflict flashing across his face.

“I feel— wrong. Like my bio-components are seizing. Like I can’t breathe.” Connor stopped pacing, hands dropping to his sides as he looked at you.

“You were so afraid.” he said, voice evening again, "I could feel it."

You remembered the bar vividly, how Connor maneuvered through all of those men and how he just cut them down so easily. He was methodical, calculated and ruthless in his pursuit of his objective. You had never seen him working before outside the confides of the DPD building. You knew now why RK800’s were top of the line crime fighting units, because he was designed to do just that-- fight. Connor was designed to kill and he had and he most likely would again. It was… hard to feel the same about that as you did a human police officer or a soldier. They were trained yes, their skills honed, but this is what Connor was made for. He had once served no other purpose.

Once . You reminded yourself quietly.

"You seemed like a whole other person. I was shocked, and yes, I was scared, but only because I didn't know what you were going to do! I was just looking to not get kidnapped or shot."

Connor was trying very hard to keep his voice calm and machine like, pausing for a moment to collect himself before he spoke, "It is a reasonable reaction when one shoots a man within inches from you."

"Connor," you said, feeling like your own chest was now seizing, "Could we not relive that right now? You saved me, I know that. I was scared, but because of what was happening! Because of what has happened! And I'm not scared right now, I'm pissed off . Big difference."

It was obvious he wanted to say something, but was struggling to do put the words together. Despite that, his LED had gone from red to yellow, which was a welcome sign. The hardened and resolved look on his face had begun to already soften, nearly faded into nothing but a frown as he finally spoke.

"I apologize...I didn't know where to go. I was outside the DPD and before I would have turned in my weapon and written my report." Connor said at last, words shaking just slightly, “But this anger... I thought it would go when it was over, but it's still here and I can't make it stop. That man was going to hurt you and I had to make him stop."

Connor closed his eyes, "I had to follow my objectives. What else should I have done?"

There was something so deeply painful in the way he spoke, something old and lingering like an open wound. It wasn't all because of you and that was somewhat of a comfort, but at the same time it just made your heart ache for him worse. He seemed to come back from his mind, eyes opened slightly and his shoulders went slack.

"If you'd like me to go, I will do so." he said, "Just tell me what to do."

What he was asking for wasn’t comfort, though he might have mistaken it for such. It was just another form of servitude. He cried out for order, for structure and the thoughtless collar of command. It was easier than confronting the reality of his new life, of the fact that he had thought you were going to die and had weighed your life against another and found it wanting. He had made an entirely emotional choice. A human choice.

“I can't.” You said, "You're not a machine anymore, Connor. You don't have any objectives, just the things you've done and what you're doing."

His LED softened to blue.

"As for what I've done," you started, "I don't really have any explanation. I messed up, I know and I'm sorry because I got that detective hurt and-- most likely no one would have gotten shot tonight if I hadn't done what I did."

You took in a heavy breath, "And that's on me. Trust me, Connor. I understand completely. Okay? And what you're feeling? Everything you just said? You weren't feeling what I was feeling, I think you were just as scared as I was... and you recognized that."

There was a slight change in his expression, the thought occurring to him probably for the first time.

"How often have you been put in a situation where someone you like, where a friend is in danger?" you asked, knowing based on his reaction that it could not have been very many.

"When I revert back to my old programming, my old mindset, I am more efficient." he said after a moment, "If I hadn't I wouldn't have been able to fire a single shot. Not when he had you." Connor said, "I had to block it out. And then when it was over I was still afraid. The hostile was gone, but even now I feel the threat lingering."

"Connor." you said, feeling your eyes sting at the expression of a feeling you were all too familiar with at late, "That's a very human thing."

He looked at you, the polarizing opposite of what you'd seen at the bar. Lost . Face open and eyes alive and searching your own with something akin to confusion. As if he didn't know what to even do with these things anymore. It hurt to witness, and while you didn't know how he'd take it, you closed the distance between you both and the moment he was within reach you fell into him, wrapping your arms around his chest and snaking them up his back. You held, tight as your arms could stand and pressed your cheek over the warm hum of his thirium pump.

"You just care. And it makes me a bit less angry at you for ya know-- barging into my apartment. Which arguably, was pretty human too, if you watch too many movies." you said, a slight teasing edge in your voice, but also it came from just the immense relief that Connor was still Connor.

"I... should have knocked." he said.

"Remember that next time, alright?" you said, "Hopefully, though, there is no next time."

Connor was experiencing now, what you as a human had lots of experience with. Embarrassment. It was kinda funny on an android, the way he fidgeted and seemed to be uncertain exactly how to return the embrace. He settled his arms around you and gave a test squeeze. The moment he did, he seemed to lose his reservations, pulling you closer.

"Connor?" you said quietly, but he was busy burying his face into your neck. Clearly embarrassment was a little short lived in androids too. The ghosting touch sent a shiver up your spine and you had an inexplicable desire to shut your eyes and tilt your head back; a silent invitation. The moment centered back down as quickly as it started and you almost yelped his name in surprise at yourself alone.

" Connor." you said, more insistently and he met your eyes, half lidded.

"As much as I'd like to continue this little vent session," you mumbled, "It's time for bed."

You gently untangled yourself enough to look up at him.

"You gotta be exhausted too." you said, keeping your voice quiet.

"My power systems are nominal, but... yes. Yes, I think I am. I should return to Hank's."

Despite yourself, you quickly said, "Do you want to stay? At least until I fall asleep? "

"I have been placed on restricted duty," Connor said, "I can stay all night if... if you're okay with that. I would understand if you were not."

You sighed with something like relief and contentment mixed into one, resting your cheek into his chest and happy to let him tuck your head beneath his chin. He had gone still again, but after a moment began to soothe circles into your upper back, slow repetitive motions that somehow focused your breathing and chased your thoughts away. This was much better.

"Next time, lead with this." you said, muffled, "And then scold."

"---," he said quietly, "I am sorry. I should have knocked. I should have given you the chance to not have to..." he paused, "..."deal" with my malfunctions on top of your own."

"You're not malfunctioning. You're just upset. And honestly? I'd rather be upset together than have been stuck here by myself."

"Come on." you said, and reluctantly parted, taking his hand and leading him back through the hall. Before you could get settled into bed, Connor moved passed you and began to untuck your already unmade covers further. The bed had already been a mess, your pillows half smooshed down between the wall and the mattress or on the floor. You scooped them up and set them at the head of the bed.

"Lay down." Connor said, gentle yet still commanding. You slipped up onto the bed, watching him with curiosity as he shook out the covers. You laid back against the pillows but kept sat up on your elbows to watch him. He lifted up the sheet with a flick, letting it fall over you in a soft puff. He smoothed the blanket down, making sure it was snug around you. You laughed, a soft giddy sound. The duvet came next, warm and soft. Connor moved to the bedside as he got you situated, turning and setting his eyes on your desk chair. He moved to draw it over, but you stopped him with the soft calling of his name.

You freed your arms from the warmth of the covers to open them to him. He paused, eyes taking in every inch of you, soft and unyielding and beckoning him-- come here. Come to bed. He'd never had one of his own before...but adapting to unpredictability was one of his features. He could have questioned it, asked if this was something "friends" did, but he just didn't quite feel like risking the chance of actually changing your mind. He slipped off his tie, unbuttoning the white shirt to show a equally white under-armor t-shirt. He unbuckled his belt and snaked it out of the loops, but let his trousers on. Sitting down on the corner of the bed he took his shoes off and then let you help him under the cover. You tucked into Connor's side and laid your head on his shoulder, wrapping your arm around his middle.

Once, you would have been too shy to do so, but after everything you felt quite entitled. Connor was preoccupied, tracing your shoulder and your arm with the tips of his fingers and the back of his knuckles. He seemed deep in thought, his LED swirling as slowly and deliberately as his fingertips on your skin.

"Are you okay?" you said, voice thick with exhaustion, but still not quite able to shut your thoughts off.

"Processing." Connor said, chest rising up steeply than falling with a sigh. It was a good sound, "And I should be asking you."

"Today was a lot ..." you said, feeling your thoughts inevitably drift back to all the events of the past few weeks and closing your eyes tight, as if it would block them back, "I'm not actually sure if I am."

"Hey--" Connor said, “I am going to schedule you an appointment with victim services. They offer both one on one and group sessions this week.”

“Make it a group. I— am not really good at having all attention just on me.”

Connor seemed just relieved you agreed, having clearly expected more of an argument than that. No, at this point you knew if you didn’t talk about it you’d just keep pressing it down until it exploded. You made a face. Bad metaphor.

“I just get caught in a loop. I think about that day and it’s like I can feel everything and hear and even smell so clearly. It’s just so… much. I just cry. I can’t even stop it, it just has to get out.”

You rubbed your cheek into the soft, smooth material of Connor’s shirt, “I have to distract myself all the time or else it’s just there. Waiting.”

“ Have you heard of the term “grounding”?” Connor asked, “You focus on your surroundings, on what you feel and hear right now in this moment. It helps your senses redirect from the memory.”

“Do you do that?”

“It is a very effective process in certain cases. I also make use of my coin to help “re-calibrate”. But since becoming deviant sometimes that isn’t enough."

Connor's arm left your shoulder for a moment to reach down and pull the blankets back up around you. You splayed your fingers out over his chest, closing them and feeling the faint ridge where the circle of his thirium pump was. Slowly, you slid your hand down further, finding the hem of his shirt. You turned your eyes up to him,

"Is this okay?"

You watched his Adam apple move as he swallowed, eyes half closed.

"Yes."

This was not what Connor had probably had in mind when he recommended using your senses in the present to distract yourself. It was primarily curiosity though that guided your hand under his shirt, feeling the detailed ridges of muscle and tiny imperfections crafted into his epidermis to make him appear more human. They had even carved the pattern of ribs into his chest, not quite the same, but enough of a recreation to trick the mind.

You traced back down, finding that faint circle again at the center of Connor's chest and instinctively he caught your hand beneath his shirt, firm but gentle.

"Sorry." he mumbled, "Reflex. On a case last year a deviant got a bit too close."

You ran the tip of your middle finger over the ridge and felt him push back into the mattress.

"That is distracting." Connor said, not entirely disapproving.

"Isn't that the idea?" you said.

"Your vitals are up , which is not indicative of rest."

You humphed a sigh, but let your hand just rest over the spot, noting now the faint pulse against your palm. If you held your breath, you could hear it, slightly mechanical, but still a steady beating. His breathing was just as even and methodical. Connor did not need to breathe, the pulmonary reflex just there again to contribute to his appearing human, but you tried to match it, breathing in when he did and then out.

"That's better." Connor said, relaxing his grip on your hand to rest it over where yours cupped his heart. Because that was what it was at the end of the day, wasn't it? A biological component that pumped thirium, blood , through him. The thing that kept him alive as certainly as the muscle within your own chest kept you alive.

"This is... different . You and me." you concluded, the word holding an infinite number of meanings and emotions that had accumulated in the time you had known Connor. What was "this"? The connection you had felt back that day at the coffee shop? Or the thing that built up after? Or was it just everything? You were finding it hard to keep your eyes open the more you matched your breath to Connor's and the more your mind pondered instead on more pleasant subjects.

You barely heard Connor whisper back, " I know ."

Morning hit you without mercy as it came to collect it's due from all the sleepless nights before. There wasn't anywhere to go, or anything to do and the idea of not worrying or running yourself ragged was going to take some getting used to. You'd been out running everything, standing still felt like the equivalent of being told to stand still while a tidal wave threatened to rush the beach.

Speaking of beaches , you thought, curling up into a more snug burrito of blankets. Summer never came soon enough in Michigan and never stayed long. And now speaking of staying, you were aware of a distinct absence of Connor in your bed, which was a clear ploy to tempt you into the kitchen where you could smell food cooking.

You rolled up, excavating yourself from the sheets and nearly tripping when it caught around your ankle. You headed, gracelessly into the living room and adjoining kitchen to find not only Connor, utilizing your range to fry what looked to be eggs and bacon, but Josh. Sitting on one of the bar stools you used at the kitchen counter in place of owning a table.

His eyes were wide with surprise, "Damn, you really are good. 2.45 minutes on the dot."

"I told you she would be awake shortly." Connor said.

But you didn't pay attention to most of there back and forth as Josh stood and met you half way with a hug.

"Some new rep came by the Cyberlife plant and said you'd been in some kinda accident. That you were going to be gone indefinitely." Josh said, reclaiming his perch as you joined him at the stool next to him.

"Hold that thought-- Connor."

The android looked up at you, smiling faintly.

"Where did you get that?" you said, pointing to the paper bag marked "bio degradable" that seemed to once contain groceries.

"I used the app on your phone to order you something besides ground coffee for breakfast."

"And now you're-- cooking it."

"I inferred that based on last night, that cooking you breakfast would no longer constitute "too much"."

Josh made a sound, something between a laugh and a cough that you knew was surely meant to conceal the laugh.

"Looks like my concerns were unfounded." he said, "You're in good hands."

You moaned, pressing your hand over your face and dragging it down, "It's not what it sounds like."

Connor just smirked, turning his attention back to his task and flipping the two eggs over, yolk down with a spatula that you didn't even remember owning.

"Are deviants often purposefully obtuse?" you asked, more just to have Connor hear it than to have Josh answer.

"Markus definitely has his moments too." Josh said wryly, "Which reminds me. Markus wanted to know when you think you'll next grace Jericho with your presence. His words. You haven't been to the house since December."

It took you a moment to realize that Josh wasn't asking you, but Connor this. His expression gave nothing away, flipping the eggs and bacon onto a plate and handing it over to you. You took it, but continued to look between the two men with interest.

"You four do fine without me." Connor said, avoiding your very questioning looks, "We can discuss it later though."

Josh noted now your expression, giving Connor a pointed look.

" They have asked for you."

"I don't know why they would." Connor countered, "Again. We can discuss it later ."

"Or right now." you interjected, "What the hell are you guys talking about?"

Josh sighed, looking at Connor with disappointment and-- sympathy? He turned his attention to you, smiling fondly as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear and gave you another sideways hug. You leaned into it, not forgetting you were waiting for an answer. You thought you saw Connor's LED flicker in the corner of your eye.

"I'll head out. Let you two talk. ---, get some rest. You deserve it and know that Simon sends his thanks. I can't wait for you to come by and see everything your work did."

"I didn't do that much." you said with a scoff.

" Yes , you did. Just let North know if you decide to come by. She's taken over security while Simon is recuperating. I hope to see Connor there too."

Connor did not confirm or deny the invite, paying Josh little attention now. And with that Josh left. You poked at the yolks of your eggs with the prongs of your fork, watching the yellow liquid pop free and ooze slowly over the cooked whites.

"Well... I guess when they said "acquainted" they were lying." you said, "Connor, you are part of Jericho's leadership?!"

"No-- yes. It's complicated."

He was indulging that tick of his, immediately moving to clean up the dishes.

"Were you part of the revolution?" you said, barely able to hide the admiration in your voice. It did nothing to encourage Connor though, in fact the tone seemed to make him frown more if anything.

"Only that night." he said, "Before I was assigned to investigate and hunt down deviants. That was my mission."

"And you deviated." you finished for him.

"Yes."

The silence that followed made it clear Connor did not intend to elaborate.

"How? Why? Connor that's a huge deal, how has it never come up before?!"

"You should eat." Connor said, not quite successfully dissuading you. Something in him was conflicted, like always when topics got too heavy. He wanted to talk, but also you got the impression, like you, he didn't know how to start.

"Okay, I'll eat and you just start at the beginning."

"---," he said your name, an edge to his voice, "I am concerned because of the high probability it will change your opinion of me."

"Does that probability score show if my new opinion will be good or bad?" you asked, cutting into the egg.

Connor sighed, "No. It does not."

"Sounds very useful!" you said with a grin, taking a bite of egg and chasing it with a slice of bacon, "This is great by the way, thank you. Now spill it."

Connor smiled despite himself, coming around to take the seat Josh had occupied. He clasped his hands in front of him, keeping himself still.Grounded , your mind offered.

"I should start at the very beginning then. It may be long." Connor said, eyes fixed on some point beyond you as if he was recalling the way a human would. The spin of his LED said otherwise.

"August 15th, 2038. I was called to the residence of Caroline and John Phillips. Their android had deviated and taken their daughter hostage..." he paused, thoughtfully, "There was a salt water tank in the foyer and a fish had fallen out."

[equalstrashflavoredtrash]

movies i like

so @beautifulramblingbrains tagged me in this thing saying ‘what are your 6 favorite films?’ and i love movies so i got carried away and made this list of a lot more than six films...

Cus I cant do shit halfway when it comes to moves, i took some time thinking abt this and ending up choosing my fave 6 genres/tropes and the choosing the best movie that it applies to, with honorable mentions. ***this list is NOT an exclusive list of my favorite films, i eventually cut myself off because i kept adding titles... there are hundreds more i’d mention if i had time, but this is what i wrote down***  (I have lots of very personal opinions about all the films i listed, both favorites and honorable mentions, if you want to know more about any of them please ask)

(all of the film titles link to a trailer of the film, if available. A few of these films can be watched in full for free, those links have been include as an ‘x’ after the title)

THIS IS IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER, IT’S MORE STREAM OF CONSCIOUSNESS

1. BOTTLE STORIES. Fuck, if i dont love sticking a bunch of characters in a room together, or a short window of time, and seeing what happens. Honorable mentions: Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist, Key Largo, Green Room, 12 Angry Men, Dr. Strangelove, or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb and The Man From Earth. Favorite choice: MURDER PARTY!! What happens when a guy responds to a Halloween invitation to a murder party? Well, mostly it’s a bunch of pretentious artist doing drugs and debating how to kill him. I dont know what I love more about the film, the subtle dialog and perfect build up of plot, or the fact that i actually know people like the stuck up artist in it. I just think this was deffo written by someone who went to art school

2. WHERE DOES REALITY STOP AND THE DREAM BEGINS? Come on, i mean, seriously how can you really know when it’s not a dream? Honorable mentions: Perfect Blue, Jakob’s Ladder1, Brazil1, Dark City, Waking Life, Science of Sleep, Alice, and La Jetee. Favorite choice: PAPRIKA!! Shatoshi Kon made so, SO many amazing films in his life and this is one of the best, imo. If you like Inception, know that it was directly influenced by Paprika. And Inception is like a boiled down version; it makes more sense and is less fantastic. Real facts though, i have watched Paprika over a dozen times, and still when i go back to watch it now i notice details i missed before that are subtle but pertain to the over-all ideas and story. Also the soundtrack is fuckin sick.

3. BLACK AND WHITE THRILLERS! Like yeah, self explanatory, and I could go on about The Third Man or M, but what i really love is stories that make you grip the edge of your seat when you weren’t expecting to. Honorable Mentions: Arsenic and Old Lace, The Virgin Spring x, All About Eve1, Cabinet of Dr. Caligari x, Metropolis x, The Bad Seed and Sunset Boulevard (i want to say Chinatown2 tho i know that was shot in color but to look like noir b&w). Favorite choice: EYES WITHOUT A FACE!! x I have a soft spot for french horror, but what makes this film stand out is the way they danced around taboo subjects like gore, animal abuse, and mad scientists to avoid censors and get a wide release in Europe, while still having those be major subjects in the film.

4. CRAZY SLOW PACED AND BASED IN CONVERSATION! Ok i worried for a moment that this was too similar to the first, but no it’s different. Like man, if the dialogs good, then i'm fucking dooownn, and these are more about the conversation than anything else. Also this is my list so i can do what i want. Honorable Mentions: Royal Tenenbaums, Stagecoach1x, Yojimbo, Fire, Coco and Igor, and Days of Heaven. Favorite choice: STALKER!! x Like hell yeah, i'm so here for a soviet film abt people debating what they’d wish for while hiking to the wishing well. Also i think this film used the b&w to color transition better than Wizard of Oz because you barely even notice the change, like they hypnotize you first then make the switch.

5. ANIMATION! I fuckin love animation. I’ve always prefered cartoons. If you didn't know this, then idk if you know me. Honorable Mentions: Secret of Kells, Triplets of Belleville, Spirited Away, Mind Game, World of Tomorrow, Belladonna of Sadness, Millennium Actress, My Life as a Zuccini, The Hedgehog in the Fog x, The Cat in Paris. Favorite choice: THE THIEF AND THE COBBLER!! (the recobbled cut, specifically) After the production hell this flick went through, it needs all the love it can get. Started in the late 70s, it wasn't released until 1993, and was quickly overshadowed by Aladdin (which is probably directly influenced by the Thief and the Cobbler, but Disney’s not gunna say that). After 30s years of bouncing between animation studios only to get this slap-dash finishing to push it out on VHS, which the final final scenes not only feels disjointed from the story, but the scenes have an fps (frames per second) rate that’s half of the original animation so you can literally see the images slow down in some scenes. The recobbled cut is the best because even though it has a few unfinished scenes (some of which are still just animatics) it is the closest we may ever get to the original, intended version of the film. It’s still trippy as fuck though, and it doesn't have the god awful internal monologue for the thief.

6. MOVIES I FIRST SAW WHEN I WAS YOUNG AND IMPRESSIONABLE AND ABSOLUTELY ADORE! So these are movies which i saw when i was young BUT would be happy to watch again and have lots of opinions about (so this rules out Requiem for a Dream and Risky Business, both i saw too young and i'm cool with only having ever seen them once) Honorable Mentions: Spirited Away, Muppet Treasure Island, Young Frankenstein, Nightmare Before Christmas, Monsoon Wedding,The Dreamers, Airplane! and Fight Club. Favorite choice: DUCK SOUP!! Omg, i dont know if i can adequately express how much i fucking love the Marx bros. I own most of their films and when I was little, i used to just watch them endlessly (and I will still do so while drunk if no one stops me) I know all the jokes and songs even tho i learned half of them before I was old enough to get the jokes.

7. *Bonus round* TRIPPY AF MOVIES!! Like flicks i walked out of thinking ‘the fuck did i just watch??’ Honorable mentions: 2001: A Space Odyssey, Enter the Void, Videodrome, Holy Mountain, Meshes of the Afternoon x. Favorite choice: DOG STAR MAN!! x Sometimes, you need to just lay back and watch undulating colors in silence for a few hours.

Like, i just want to say, that while editing this list i thought of like ten films I couldn't shoehorn into any of these categories, and was very upset i couldn't find a way to mention them, so if you like this and want me to make another movie list, PLEASE SAY SO!!

1 I have included the link to the trailer, but the trailer is shit. The movie is much better.

2 while this film is only brought up saying that it doesn't fit on the list, i do really love the film, but i feel like i should mention that both the director, Roman Polanski and main actor, Jack Nicholson have been directly accused of sexual assault/statutory rape/domestic assault. I, personally, have a cognitive dissonance with this film because I saw it before I learned about both of them and their actions. But as much as I enjoy the story and movie, i cannot in good faith, bring up the film without mentioning this.

[musiccosmosru]

If you’ve ever sent a text to a roommate because it felt more natural than walking to the next room and actually communicating with them in person, you’ve experienced a glimpse into the creative life of Superorganism.

Finding each other on the internet through music forums and YouTube suggestions, the whole band moved into a London house where they create eccentric collages of indie pop together. Before the move, though, their earliest songs were created over Skype calls, Facebook chats, and email file transfers—an internet-based method that continues even now that they live under the same roof.

“The thing is, we still work online,” 18-year-old lead singer Orono Noguchi says. “We’ve started to try collaborating in the same room, being physically there together. But for the most part, we just work on our own demos in our own rooms, then we send them to each other.”

Referring to themselves as a “DIY pop production house,” Superorganism’s eight members sought each other out from far-reaching places like Japan, South Korea, Australia, England, and New Zealand. “At school, I couldn’t really find anyone who was on a similar creative wavelength as I was,” Orono explains. But when she finally met people online who shared her same tastes and do-it-yourself spirit, she says, “It seemed natural to join powers and make something awesome.”

Our full interview with Orono Noguchi is below, in which she discusses her early years writing fan fiction, the inspiring nature of YouTubers, life on the road with an eight-member band, and more.

I was listening to Ezra Koenig’s Beats 1 show last year, and heard him talking about your old fan fiction on air. What inspired your Vampire Weekend fan fiction phase as a 12-year-old?

I was borderline stalking them, I’d say. [Laughs]. I fell in love with their music and their art and I kind of joined an online community of other kids my age that were equally obsessed with them. I don’t know, I just felt like I wanted to create something and that creation was writing fan fiction. I combined everything that I was obsessed with at the time into one piece of fan fiction. So that’s why Ezra was dating Katy Perry and there were YouTubers thrown into the mix. MGMT was in there as well. [Editor’s note: See some of Orono’s fan fiction brought to life here].

Was writing always a hobby for you when you were growing up?

I wouldn’t call it a hobby but English class was definitely one of my favorite classes. It’s always been one of my best subjects since I was a little kid. It felt natural to do that.

I don’t really take anything seriously, including myself. Nor do I really want to be taken seriously, either. I’m not trying to make a statement or anything.

The absurdity of those fan fictions carries over to the humor in your lyrics now. Lots of your songs are about how crazy and weird the world is. Why do you like writing like that?

I think it stems from the fact that I don’t really take anything seriously, including myself. Nor do I really want to be taken seriously, either. I’m not trying to make a statement or anything. So I guess that’s why I jump around from talking about one thing to another. It turns from seeming kind of serious for a second, to jumping back and being wacky and weird. That’s just a reflection of not only me, but the whole band’s personality.

What kind of things were you into back when you were writing those fan fictions?

I was into YouTube, big time. Katy Perry. There were fandoms that I was in, but I wasn’t in one specific fandom. I was just kind of all over the place. I followed random tags on Tumblr and saved every single photo that I found. I was actually obsessed with Grimes at that time as well. Just all sorts of stuff. All internet stuff I’d say.

Photo by Ingrid Pops

You originally found some of the other Superorganism members through YouTube, right?

Yeah, back in the day that song “Somebody That I Used to Know” was a big hit. Kimbra was a feature on that song so I started listening to a lot of Kimbra’s music and she’s from New Zealand. I thought she was cool and I think that got the YouTube algorithm into recommending me lots of New Zealand indie stuff. There’s a viral video for a song called “The Cigarette Duet” by Princess Chelsea from New Zealand. I thought that was cool, then YouTube started recommending me other New Zealand indie stuff, which included some of the Superorganism members and their band projects.

We’re eight different people from different countries and backgrounds. The primary way that we communicate with each other and work is through the internet, so it makes sense to make a collage-like piece of art.

So it sounds like the band had been slowly forming for years, but it finally took shape as Superorganism when you joined?

Yeah, pretty much. We didn’t see Superorganism happening. None of us saw it coming. We were just like, “Hey, cool, we’re talented fun people, let’s get together and make some cool music.” That just came about through random chats on Facebook. 

Bands used to form because all the members happened to live in the same town or they were classmates or something. But you guys were able to seek each other out and be more choosy on the internet. What attracted you to each other?

I’d say a good taste in music brought us together. But also the fact that some of us experienced being an outsider and being kind of isolated in a way. I had a weird situation where I was living in a small town in Japan, but I went to a school that was an hour away in an even smaller town. So I didn’t really have close friends in my neighborhood. Emily lived in Australia and moved to New Zealand. Harry lived in the UK, then moved to New Zealand. So having that experience as a kid warps your perspective in a way and I think that’s what we have in common.

I know you all come from very do-it-yourself backgrounds. Lots of DIY artists end up working in solitude and making music in their bedrooms. What made you guys want to do that in a group setting?

It just made sense, I guess. We kind of do things on the fly. We don’t get our own individual egos in the way of the creative process. So when it came to actually making art and trying to make the best kind of art that we can, it seemed natural to join powers and make something awesome.

Before joining Superorganism, did you plan on being a solo artist or did you always want to be in a group?

I was kind of open to anything. But at the time, at school, I couldn’t really find anyone who was on a similar creative wavelength as I was. That sounds fuckin’ stupid, I’m aware of that. But at the time, I was just working on stuff by myself. 

After you met online, you guys all moved in together in a big house in London. Was it weird going from making songs over email and Skype to living together and doing that in person?

The thing is, we still work online for the most part. Even living together wasn’t that weird because we’re all pretty chill and none of us are really crazy OCD drama queens or whatever. So that works in our favor. It wasn’t that awkward, to be honest.

When you say you’re still working online, does that mean you’re all in different rooms of the house working on your own pieces, then you send it to each other?

Pretty much. We’ve started to try collaborating in the same room, being physically there together. But for the most part, we just work on our own demos in our own rooms, then we send them to each other.

How do you guys split up songmaking duties?

It’s quite freestyle, I’d say. None of us have dedicated parts or anything, because we’re all multi-instrumentalists. We can just do whatever. Also, if you have Logic, you don’t really need to play instruments.

Image via Jordan Hughes

Why do you guys prefer making music at the house instead of a studio?

We’re comfortable in that situation. Also, it saves money. We can do it at home. We’ve always done it at home. So why go to a studio and pay fuckin’ thousands of dollars for nothing, pretty much? We have it at home.

Lots of your songs take shape like collages. There are a bunch of weird samples, sound effects, vocals, and instruments. Where does that style come from?

We’re eight different people from different countries and backgrounds. The primary way that we communicate with each other and work is through the internet, so it makes sense to make a collage-like piece of art.

Where do you guys find those samples and recordings?

It’s a good mix of everything. Sometimes we use field recordings. Sometimes we use royalty free sound effects websites. And sometimes we’re looking for specific audio clips, so we look for that on YouTube. It’s a little bit of everything.

We have a collaborative Spotify playlist and it has 500 songs or so at this point. It’s a mix of everything from Ariana Grande to weird experimental shit.

Your music has all these weird things going on, but it’s also really accessible and pop-friendly. What draws you to weird pop music like that?

It comes back to a lot of us having an outsider perspective. But then again, pop culture is so great because no matter how indie or hipster you are, you have a certain connection with pop culture. I think that’s the most fascinating and best part about it. Just the word “pop” binds us together, but we’re also outsiders. So I guess it makes sense for us to combine the best of both worlds and make that sort of music. 

What do you guys usually end up listening to?

We have a collaborative Spotify playlist and it has 500 songs or so at this point. It’s a mix of everything from Ariana Grande to weird experimental shit.

What are your non-musical influences?

I think most of my influences are non-musical. I do have an inspo playlist on Spotify, but lately I’ve been obsessing over RuPaul. It’s the most fascinating thing ever—the world of drag queens. Not to make a pun here, but it’s a different world. It’s like a different organism of its own. I’ve never dabbled in it, so it’s been very inspiring to me, watching the show. And RuPaul’s music is fucking amazing and his podcast is so great. I just have so much respect for that guy. 

Lots of young artists today make an effort to share everything about themselves on social media, but you seem to be more reserved. Why do you think that is?

Social media is weird and it’s fucked up. Especially for insecure teenagers, like myself. It definitely provides a good ego boost at times, but other times it’s just people shitting on your art for no reason, just because they’re also insecure about their lives. Sometimes I think, “Oh, that would be cool to post on the internet.” And then I’m like, “Oh wait, there’s no point in me doing that.”

But then again, there are so many YouTubers and quote “social media influencers” that all these 10-year-olds follow today. They inspire those kids and make them feel less shitty. They give the kids someone to relate to in a really intense way, because they provide so much of what’s going on in their lives, so publicly. I think there’s a certain beauty to that. I understand them because I’ve definitely felt that, watching lots of YouTubers’ videos about going through really shitty times and depression and all of that.

Hopefully there’s a healthy mix. I think it’s important to try and utilize social media in the most efficient way possible without hurting anyone’s feelings. I know that’s really hard but that’s why I try and stay away from it. I’m not too active on social media because it makes me feel like shit. But then again, it kind of makes me feel good. It’s confusing.

It doesn’t look like it’s turned you into divas or anything, but I’m sure the success has changed some things for you guys. What’s different now as opposed to before you put out “Something For Your M.I.N.D.”?

I think our whole lives have turned upside-down. I think I’ve become a diva in a way, actually. When we started off touring and doing all these interviews and stuff, I was so conscious of how I was being perceived by other people. I was like, “I’m so lucky to be in this position. I don’t want to seem like an ungrateful little bitch.” So I was trying too hard to be like, “This is so great and fun.” But the reality is, touring is the most stressful thing. It’s one of the craziest things that a human being can do, in my opinion. You get up at like three in the morning. Then you do all these interviews. Then you play a show at like midnight. Then you go back and do the same thing over and over again. For a whole summer you do that. Then you go on tour in the States and all these places. It’s so intense and hectic.

I feel like it’s unrealistic to be like, “I’m fine! We’re Superorganism—just a fun, quirky, internet band!” I think that’s bullshit. So here I am, being like, I’m stressed out right now! I’m tired. I barely got any sleep, so I’m telling you about it. I think that’s definitely changed. I think it’s also changed how we make music because we barely spend any time at home anymore. We’re on the road constantly. That makes it hard to make music, because we make music at home where we’re comfortable. Touring is definitely not that comfortable. So we’re trying to figure out a way to make that work. We’re not quite there yet, but we’re still working on stuff, which is good. It’s definitely changed our lives, though, in such a great way that it’s hard to explain. It’s a lot to handle. 

With all the touring, are you thinking about new music yet? You don’t have to give away too much, but what’s next?

Yeah. All the complaining I did just now started because we have a passion for making art and making music. That still applies, thankfully. We are working on stuff and we have been working on stuff this whole time. When we finished the record last August, we actually ended up with way too many songs. Domino was basically like, “Hey, you guys are a new band. Maybe let’s cut it down a bit so it’s more palatable for a wider audience.” That totally made sense and I think it made for a better record. So that was a good call. But we have a bunch of stuff laying around. Hopefully we can release it as soon as possible. Take a break from touring and work on more stuff. Collaborating with other people, too. That’s up in the air.

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The post Do It Yourself, Together: The Internet-Born Reality of Superorganism appeared first on MusicCosmoS.

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12 Steps from Death

David stepped into the small empty conference room and flicked a switch. The fluorescent bulbs sputtered to life one by one with a gentle hum, like old men being roused from a nap. The shadows lingered for a moment though, and for the briefest instant David was gripped by a cold, sickening terror. He shook his head and suddenly the darkness had passed, warmth returned to his frightened husk. He collected himself for a moment, assuring himself that it was probably nothing, and that it was time to get back to the task at hand. David stood in the doorway, hands on his hips, a familiar smile taking shape as he began the weekly routine, the fear had now completely faded. He wheeled a plain-looking folding table into the corner of the room, frowning at the coffee stains that speckled its beige cloth. He lined up the towers of paper cups next to the two large black beverage dispensers, marked WATER and COFFEE. David surveyed the modest spread, setting a box of Costco brand cookies right next to the packets of sugar. David poured himself a cup of joe, made it the same way he always had, with two sugar packets and healthy dollop of cream. The clock ticked softly overhead. The silence broke as David brought in the brown metal folding chairs. The chairs clanged harshly under David’s armpits, revealing their age with every rusted creak. Their light brown metallic shine matched the color of his coffee. He brought twenty chairs, but knew all too well that no more than four of them would be filled tonight. He arranged them into a wide circle, all equidistant, all perfectly angled inward. David found pleasure in these little perfections. He briefly marveled at his work before adding the final touch, a laminated teal poster taped just beneath the wall clock. The poster was simple, just a numbered list of rules. At the top of the poster it’s title read, THE 12 STEPS: in bold, impact font. A second poster hung above the concession table, directly across from the 12 steps, as if they occupied two ends of a single spectrum. The second poster showed a young, military aged black man dressed in fatigues, his head tilted away from the viewer, saluting into the distance. In the background, a pair of jets fly through a soft pink sunset. The image is bound by a black border, in the style of a motivational poster. its tagline reads SEMPER FI: Respect the Corps, Respect yourself. David didn’t even see that poster anymore, it had been here since he got assigned to the room, and probably long before that. It and a million other posters like it decorated nearly every room of the Marine Base. By now all of them had combined into a single image in David’s head, and were as inconspicuous as the patterns that formed in the rough, cream-colored stucco walls. David checked the clock, then his watch. He sipped on his saccharine coffee and stretched his legs, the men would be here soon. David checked his watch again, 6:54. The sound of sneakers on linoleum squeaked toward the conference room, and David’s head perked up just in time to catch the first guest as he shuffled through the door. “Evenin’ Marcus” He said casually, standing up to greet him. “Aw Siddown David,” Marcus said, swiping a cookie with one hand and waving David off with the other, grinning as he did. Marcus was a short man, hunched over from years of a sedentary lifestyle. He had a short, well-trimmed beard that shone white against his dark skin. “How’d Lexi do on that Spanish test?” Marcus asked, not even looking up as he poured himself a cup of black coffee. “She says she hasn’t gotten the grade back yet, but she thinks she did pretty good.” David often forgot just how receptive Marcus was. David never liked sharing personal information with clients, but Marcus was always genuinely interested in what was happening in his life. David presumed it was because he didn’t have much else going on. Marcus waddled over next to David and plopped down next to him with a thud, almost spilling his coffee. The reflection of his glasses made his eyes hard to track. “I know I tell ya this all the time David, but you’re real lucky that Lexi takes to school as good as she does.” Marcus took an enormous bite out of his cookie, a few crumbs trickled down onto his green striped button up. He brushed them off then adjusted his seat. “I must’ve driven my poor momma crazy with all the bad grades I brought home, the things that I made that woman put up with.” He closed his mouth to finish chewing his food, chuckling a couple times under his breath, perhaps reliving some old memory. David opened his mouth to ask about Marcus’s week, but before he could utter a single word he was interrupted by cacophonous laughter. A pair of twenty-something-year-old men burst into the conference room, one voice was loud and commanding, the other voice was quieter but his laugh more than made up for it. Both were indifferent to David and Marcus’s conversation. “You think I’m fuckin’ with ya? I swear to god bro I walked up to this girl doin’ some squats in the gym yesterday, she’s lookin’ fine as hell. Way I figure, she’s prolly hitched to some jarhead who’s out in bumfuck nowhere for the next six months. So I get to thinkin’, maybe she’s feeling a little lonely? maybe she might some company…” The other man pours himself some water, from the look on his face David can tell that he’s invested in the story. “I’m about to hit on her, and guess fucking what dude?” “What?” “I was so busy lookin at her ass, I didn’t even see this broad was squatting more than I am!” Both men started whooping with laughter, the one with the water laughs so hard that he spills a little on the carpet. The other man caught his breath and continued. “So now I’m fuckin stunned, right? How’s some high school sweetheart out here crushin’ my PR’s and still lookin’ like she’s ready for the homecoming dance? So, I check her name tag, and later I looked ‘er up in the database. Turns out the bitch is a friggin Scout. Sniper. Bro. First in her goddamn class! I’m just a fuckin marine thinkin’ I’m gonna get some tail, and I almost got it in with the deadliest woman in the room! who knew!” The two laughed again but less hard, then finally turn to acknowledge David and Marcus. “Howdy boys” The loud one says, sitting down in the seat closest to the door, about as far away from David and Marcus as possible. “Hey guys” says the water boy, who sits down next to the loud one. “Aaron, Andre, glad y’all could make it” David said warmly, as though he wasn’t made uncomfortable by Aaron’s loud and misogynistic banter. Marcus gave them a small wave. Both Aaron and Andre were dressed in their fatigues, even down to the boots. The only reason they were even in here was to keep from getting court-martialed. David pursed his lips and drummed his hands lightly on his thighs. “Whelp, we got a couple minutes till session starts, but seeing as this is about as big as our crowd usually gets I think we can just move right alo-” “Excuse me?” David looked up at the young man standing in the doorway. His hair was short, but it’s not high and tight like an active duty jarhead. From the look of him he probably just got back from a tour. Maybe he was just on some R&R. “This is the AA meeting, right? Am I in the right place?” “Oh yes of course!” David says. It’s been over two months since David’s seen a new face shown up to one of these meetings, and suddenly he didn’t feel so silly about all those empty, perfectly-spaced chairs anymore. “Please, come take a seat with us, we have cookies and coffee if you’d like, we were just about to recite the Serenity Prayer.” “Welcome to the fuckin’ cult” Aaron mutters to the new guy as he sits down. “Ahem,” David says, quieting the room. “Okay, repeat after me” David bowed his head and recited the prayer: “God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, Courage to change the things I can, And wisdom to know the difference.” * The men repeated David’s words, though it felt slightly awkward. The Serenity Prayer didn’t sound very good as a call-and-response. “Okay” David said, turning to the new guy. “Since you’re new here, would you mind introducing yourself and maybe telling us why you’re here?” “Uh, okay, my name is Royce, I’m from Topeka Kansas and-” “And you’re an Alcoholic” David interrupted. “You have to say that you’re an alcoholic if you’re here” “Oh” Royce says, annoyed because he was just about to say that. “And I guess I’m an alcoholic.” “Hi Royce” The men all say, unaware of how weird it is that they have to recognize the new guy by his alcoholism before his humanity. Royce continues, “Anyway, I’ve been stateside for over a year now, and I’ve downed a fifth of Jack almost every day since.” Royce scratched his neck in discomfort. “My wife filed for a divorce two weeks ago, and I didn’t know where else to turn. I heard the base held AA meetings and that’s how I wound up here.” Royce chuckles uncomfortably and doesn’t say anything else. The lights hummed loudly for a moment and began flicker. In those seconds of darkness David felt a chill rising in his lower back   Marcus was the first to break the silence. “Mind if I ask where you served Royce?” “Korengal Valley,” Royce responded, “two tours.” “Holy shit,” Aaron whispered to Andre. “This dude’s the real deal.” David thought about interrupting, some people didn’t like to talk about fighting, especially on day one. But Royce seemed open enough. David knew enough about the Korengal Valley to know that Aaron was right, it was the real deal. The Korengal Valley was a remote wilderness in northeast Afghanistan, defined by snowy mountains and thick pine forest. The few outposts that the Marines had there were small and remote, making air support and troop reinforcements a rare luxury. It was a place for survivalists. The Afghan fighters who occupied the region were some of the toughest in the country, and they knew the terrain far better than any American. Nobody could go to a place like that and come out clean on the other side. “To tell you the truth, I almost miss the Valley,” Royce said. “Every day I was out there I felt like I had a purpose. One day we would be raiding a weapons depot, another day we’d be negotiating with the local tribes. There were a lot of days where we just did nothing, but we always had a goal.” Royce looked down at his hands. “Out there you know what’s important. All that matters is protecting your buddies, and keeping the bad guys away, but over here? I can’t make heads or fucking tails of anything.” He bit his lip and took a deep breath. “I came home and learned that everyone thinks the war is bullshit. They think that the war I lost myself and my friends fighting for was a mistake. They either let me cut in line at the airport or they call me a baby killer, but nobody actually wants to deal with me, nobody cares what I think.” David thought about saying something, but was stunned by how open Royce was about his feelings. It took Marcus over a year to start talking about his experiences in Vietnam. Aaron and Andre still hadn’t talked at all about what they saw in Iraq. It was a strange position to be in as a social worker. Normally the talks here were about day-to-day struggles with sobriety, and it was rare to see someone cut down to the root of the problem on day one. Marcus looked up, his glasses reflected the ceiling lights so that his eyes became two perfect glowing orbs. His voice was cold but reverent. “I take it you met Death a few times out there didn’tcha Royce? David raised a finger, about to tell Marcus off for asking such an inappropriate question, but Royce responded before he could get a word out. The lights dimmed slightly as he spoke. “In the Korengal, everyone meets Death. It’s hard to explain.” “What did Death look like to you?” Marcus said, leaning over his chair, taking the final bite from his cookie. “It varied. Sometimes when we felt strong, Death was like a pack of wolves. They followed us on raids, howling like mad when we shot our rifles. We felt like reapers when we got into firefights. Death made us fearless, and we would watch them tear our enemies’ limb from limb. I remember feeling unstoppable when Death was on our side. I think our boys stopped praying to God while we were out there, because Death was the only one who brought results.” “Sorry Royce,” Marcus interrupted. “You okay David?” he asked turning his head, his eyes still hidden behind those reflective glasses. David was utterly confused. Normally he was the one in control of these meetings but now he was out of his depth. Was this some kind of weird metaphor? Was Royce blackout drunk? “Sorry,” David said, “Please continue.” “But yeah, Death could be anything at any time.” Royce resumed. “When we shelled Taliban outposts, Death was a huge black giant. It smashed trees and stomped buildings, screaming and vomiting fire as it went. We would go down after the bombings to inspect the damage and find all kinds of horrible things, and it gave us comfort to know that it was Death who did it, and not us.” Royce stared at his shoes. “I’m sorry I feel like I’m hogging the conversation, does anyone else wanna talk?” The room was silent. “What about when Death came for your buddies?” Andre asked. “We formed a weird relationship with Death out there.” Royce answered, frowning as he looked downward. The look in his eyes fell somewhere between shame and frustration, but it was hard to read. “Some days it would turn on us. I watched my best friend get taken right in front of me. Death was a giant black screaming banshee, with long talons made of lead. It tore his throat open not six feet away from me. And my buddy just slumped down under a tree. We took his dog tags and that was it. I barely even remember his name. Death constantly reminded us of the nature of our relationship, and we were wise to stay in our lane. I brought Death six more souls that day, and in return I was safe.” Marcus squinted at Royce in confusion, but with his eyes hidden away only his voice gave away his puzzlement. “You weren’t ever scared of Death?” Royce paused for a moment before speaking. “Not for a while, no. But there was one day when all of that changed. For a long time the enemy never knew the exact location of our base. They would shoot mortars off in our general vicinity, and we’d hear the mountains shake as they missed their targets entirely. One day I was out with a couple squads on patrol, and our radio starts goin’ nuts, they’re saying our base got hit. I get back as soon as I can, and its absolute chaos. They’ve already got body bags lined up, two of our barracks look like the surface of the moon. And Death is everywhere, a flock of black vultures picking at bodies and squawkin’ like hell. After that day Death didn’t ride with us no more.” David watched Royce’s face as he told his story, noting that he described this phantom of death with the same emotional clarity as his earlier commentary. His mind buzzed with questions but chose to keep his mouth shut instead. “What the fuck man.” Aaron said, squinting at Royce. “So Death was like a demon or something?” David looked over to Aaron, feeling some sort of relief that he wasn’t the only one in the room confused by Royce’s angel of death. “I dunno” Royce said, sounding slightly embarrassed. “Death doesn’t look like that at all, man.” Aaron said, “I saw it too.” Marcus butted in, “Death looks like a lot of things to a lot of people.” Now Andre spoke, “Nah man, Aaron and I saw the same thing, Marcus. Ya don’t forget a thing like that.” Aaron spoke up again, his deafening voice obscuring all others. “’Dre and I were both in the first battle of Fallujah, AKA Operation Vigilant Resolve AKA a shit-show to end all shit-shows.” He paused for dramatic effect, it was this professional storyteller act that was Aaron’s least attractive feature from David’s point of view. “We were in that whole mess from day one. At the time, it was glorious. Just imagine being in a convoy of 2000-plus jarheads, rollin’ in on Humvees at night, fighter jets rippin’ by so loud that you worry the sky itself might rip apart. We made the helicopter scene from Apocalypse Now look like kids playing in a sandbox. We were apex predators, tippy top of the food chain, and boy was there prey to be had.” David was perplexed. If Aaron was so proud of his combat in Fallujah why hadn’t he talked about these events sooner? Despite his tough guy attitude Aaron had always shied away from talking about the war. Regardless of how strange the conversation sounded, David was getting some real insight into Aaron’s history, and was intrigued to hear more. “I was up in the turret, and ‘Dre was our driver. We spent most of the night circling the city while our jets rained hell. Now keep in mind, this was all because some hajis blew up four Americans a few weeks earlier, made a big fucking parade out of em. They dragged the bodies through the streets, and hung em up over some big bridge, then sent the footage to the news so everybody could see. It was disgraceful, the biggest fuck you to our country since 9/11. So needless to say we were all pretty pissed. They could’ve drowned the city in blood that day and I wouldn’t have batted an eye.” Aaron paused after he said that, as if he had misspoken. But a second or two passed and he resumed the story. “After that first night, we went all in. I’m talking house-to-house sweeps, shootouts ‘round every corner. And the whole time, I notice this weird little speck hovering above the center of town, no matter where we are you can always see it, especially me, since I’m up in the turret this whole time. Most of the time we’re too busy looking for snipers and trying not to run over IED’s to notice, but throughout the day I see this speck getting bigger and bigger. It was the kind of thing that on a normal day would be a big fuckin’ deal if it showed up in New York City, but under the circumstances at the time I figured there were bigger fish to fry.” Aaron leaned back, letting the weight of his story sink in, looking around the room to gauge the interest level of the audience. To David he looked a lot more like a kid telling a ghost story than a grown man reliving the horror of his past. Yet just as David thought this, Aaron leaned in again, his eyes fell quietly onto a piece of dirt at the center of the circle. “That all changed when we got to the center of town though. We had been told to hold back while a couple tanks cleared a building of snipers. I heard the shot and the whole building came down, you could hear the foundation screaming as it went down. And then we were given a green-light to proceed. Just beyond where the building was, as the smoke cleared, we could see the speck. It was a lot bigger now, and we could see it in much greater detail. That’s when I realized what I was looking at. The object was a huge ball, but it was pulsating, sorta like a heartbeat. I could see hundreds of arms and legs sticking out of it, and the whole thing was jet black. It was dripping tar and smelled like shit.” Aaron’s eyes went around the room again. “From then on, I noticed that with every person that died in that city, every child, every woman, every haji, and every jarhead, it got bigger. We moved around the city like cats hunting mice, chasin’ and fightin’ ‘til we cornered them, then finished ‘em off. But Death was always looming above us, slick with oil and dripping all over us until we couldn’t bear to look at ourselves. Death left a stink on us that we couldn’t wash clean. Fallujah counted as a victory in the history books, but it wasn’t one we wanted to write home about. 800 dead, most of them civilians.” Aaron sat there twiddling his thumbs, a uniquely introspective look soured his face, and the room went quiet again. David had never seen anything like it from a guy like Aaron, and half expected him to jump up and yell ‘gotcha bitch!’ but that moment never came. David searched within himself for something to say, but found himself speechless. What could he possibly say that would resonate with these warriors? He had always tried to see the best in his clients, but it had become far too easy to see people like Aaron as broken drunks who didn’t even have their own best interest at heart. For the first time David saw through to the heart of what these men were saying, that they saw something they couldn’t explain, and were forever hurt because of it. He glanced up at the clock, 7:58. Time was up. David ended the session abruptly and watched the men get up and leave. There was a silent frustration as they left, a certain unfinished business to the whole affair. Marcus seemed especially hurt, perhaps he had his own story to tell. David gathered up the chairs and set them back into the storage closet. He wheeled the table out of the room, putting away the cups and sugar and cream, then dumped the water and coffee into a bathroom sink. Last of all he took down the 12 Steps Poster, disappointed that none of his knowledge of the Big Book** had been relevant for tonight’s meeting. He stepped into his silver Volvo and turned the key. A black cat sat in the grass across from his car illuminated in his headlight beams, licking its paw for a moment before running into the darkness. A primordial fear moved up his spine, and David felt the presence of something unearthly in his vicinity. He pushed these feelings aside and drove into the night.

*: The Serenity Prayer by Reinhold Niebuhr is commonly read at Alcoholics Anonymous meetings **: The Big Book, By Bill Wilson is a general guideline for the Alcoholics Anonymous Dogma