#actually never mind the hardest part is always what to put in the caption

[dealwrought]

short drawing (5min?), longer drawing (15-20?), longest drawing (about an hour but i made soup in between so unsure)

[wonder-womans-ex]

And The Song Keeps Playing

Part 2

The days drag on. Then they turn into weeks, and months, and those drag on, too. The whirlwind that was Sirius has disappeared from Remus’s life, and he is left drifting aimlessly from decision to decision, not quite sure what to do. 

There is no determination in Remus’s life, There is no passion. There isn’t much of anything, really, if you don’t count the empty space on the other side of the bed and the late nights spent at the bar down the street. The only thing he truly has to live for are memories, because his past with Sirius is the most important thing in the world—someone has to remember it, and he knows that somewhere, Sirius is trying his hardest not to. 

It’s funny, really, that he didn’t realize just how large a part of his life Sirius was until Sirius was gone. He has no one to go to, no shoulder to cry on, because it was always supposed to be Sirius’s shoulder. Before they were lovers, they were friends, and it never really occurred to either of them that they could ever be nothing at all. 

Well, it probably occurred to Sirius. But he’s not going to think about that. 

In any case, Remus has only four contacts in his phone. One is Sirius’s cell, one is Sirius’s old work number, and the other two… well, he’s not about to call his mother or his Great Aunt Caroline and tell them that his first real relationship—with a man, no less—has reached its—in hindsight, somewhat inevitable—end. 

All of which means he’s left, heartbroken, in an apartment he can’t afford on his own with nothing but photo albums he should really throw out but can’t bring himself to and an engagement ring that never got to see the light of day to keep him company. Remus has a gaping hole in his heart that can’t be filled with anything but Sirius, and since Sirius is no longer there, he has no choice but to not try to fill it at all. 

He writes. 

He writes because that’s all he knows how to do. He puts pencil to paper and spins stories of completely fictional people who are, in no way, shape, or form, anything like anyone who happens to be named Sirius Orion Black. No, his characters are blond and red-haired; his characters have spring-green and ocean blue eyes; his characters have skin like cream or terra cotta or freshly churned soil. Not one of them is pale bronze with thick dark hair and grey eyes that darken with anger or fear or sadness or lust. Not one of them loves like it’s all he was born to do. 

Marcia at the bookstore still smiles at him when he arrives for his shift. She still rolls her eyes and pretends not to notice when she catches him reading on the job. But Marcia, the only person he ever used to willingly make conversation with—other than Sirius, obviously—has no idea that every time he catches a whiff of one of the cigarettes she smokes on her break, he has to fight back tears. 

It only takes three months—which is longer than he had expected, actually—for him to look at what he has and know, with sickening surety, that there’s no way he can make rent. Barely a week later, he’s locking his apartment door for the final time and handing over the key to the lady (Janine, her name says) behind the front desk. 

He’s got a duffel bag in one hand, full of as many clothes as he could fit. In the other—or, technically, balanced against his hip—is the huge blue tupperware bin full of vinyl records—mostly Sirius’s, but six of them are his own, and that’s the excuse he gives himself for keeping them. Everything else is on the moving van: the turntable and the toaster and the sofa he almost put up for sale on eBay but eventually decided against. He and Sirius bought that sofa together, which of course has nothing to do with it. Nothing at all. 

There’s only one thing Remus can’t excuse; there’s only one thing that makes his carefully woven story of not missing Sirius begin to crumble: that ugly old bird paperweight that Sirius had loved so much. It’s funny, in a morbid sort of way, because Remus used to spend so much time trying to convince him to get rid of it, but now, strangely, bitterly, it’s all he truly has left of him. 

In truth, he’s not sure how he does anything anymore. His head is still a storm of fresh heartbreak and poisoned Cupid’s arrows and the all-consuming need that is Sirius—or, rather, the lack of him. Sirius isn’t there, which means love isn’t, either, and the truth is that time passes a lot more painfully quickly without those two vitally connected things there to make everything real and meaningful and worth remembering. 

So he finds himself standing in the middle of an empty apartment, staring up at the water stains on the ceiling, not knowing what truly happened to get him here, except for that it is in every way Sirius’s fault. 

It feels strange when he thinks about it, but this is the first time he’s ever lived alone. He and Sirius, when they made the inevitable change from friends to more at age fifteen—after three years of lingering gazes and hugs that lasted just a few seconds longer than necessary—had immediately known, deep inside, that somewhere out there, there was a one-bedroom apartment and a life together waiting for them. It’s common knowledge that teenage romances never go far, but that was never supposed to apply to them. 

He wonders how long Sirius had been planning his escape to greatness, and then he decides that knowing the answer to that question would be what undoes him completely. 

So Remus waits. He goes to the bookstore and waits for customers; he lies awake in bed at night and waits for sleep to come to him; he reads the newspaper every morning and waits for Sirius’s name. His heart breaks a little more as first September, then October comes to a close and the possibility that Sirius left him for nothing becomes more and more real. It’s been almost a year, and Sirius’s promise of I’m going to be famous doesn’t look like it’s going to stop being broken anytime soon. 

Them just as quickly, it has been a year—November sixth will forever be etched into his memory; he knows that as sure as anything—and Remus Lupin finds himself in a dimly lit bar nursing a whiskey that tastes like crying himself to sleep. Or, at least, he thinks it’s whiskey. He wasn’t really paying attention when he ordered. As long as it does its job of erasing tonight from his memory, it’s good enough for him. 

Over in one corner of the bar, there’s one of those Coca-Cola ads—the retro ones with old-fashioned teenagers in old-fashioned clothing. This one shows a redhead girl and a dark-haired boy on a picnic blanket, and the happy smiles on their faces seem to Remus to be taunting him. At the bottom, it’s captioned ‘make it a date — share a coke!’ and he tries to think of something witty and wry to say about it, but all his mind provides is the way Sirius’s eyes used to crinkle when he laughed. Hell, maybe they still do, and Remus has to squeeze his eyes closed to stop himself from crying when he wonders who the cause of Sirius’s laughter—his happiness—is nowadays. It isn’t him, that’s for sure. 

Under the sign is a piano. There’s a man sitting there; his fingers dance along the keys to create a melody Remus hasn’t let himself notice until now. 

He takes first one step, then another in that direction, and before he knows it—before he’s truly ready—he’s meeting a pair of dark hazel eyes from just a few feet away. The man smiles when he sees him. 

“Got any requests?”

As soon as he says it, Remus will wish he hadn’t, but he has to anyway. He owes it to himself. “Play us a song; you’re the piano man,” he whispers, and his voice carries well in the far-too-silent bar. 

A grin. “I’d been hoping someone would ask.”

It’s fine, at first. He lets the music wash over him; he takes in the story of a man with not quite enough to live for. But then the barely-there ache begins to consume him. This is, in a way, his story—his and Sirius’s—and with every word, he feels as if his heart is being laid bare. Before, he was hurting because Sirius left him, but now he’s just hurting because Sirius is gone. 

It’s the last epiphany he wants to have while he’s here, in a bar at the end of nowhere street, listening to this fucking song and trying for the life of him not to cry. 

He can’t do this. 

“I’m sorry,” he chokes out, stepping away from the piano before he can see the expression on the man’s face. A woman by the door turns around indignantly when he shoulders past her, but he barely notices. He’s outside, and he can breathe again, and he stands in the red glow of the neon sign and presses the heels of his hands into his eyes and sobs. 

[calypsoff]

Fifty Seven. Part 2

Looking over at Chris, he keeps falling asleep in the SUV. Meanwhile I slept and he didn’t, I wonder if he got any type of sleep actually come to think of it but him sleeping in the SUV he must be exhausted. Opening my bag and grabbing my phone, I’m sorry but he looks too cute asleep with his phone in hand, he is hanging bad. Aiming my phone camera and taking a picture, he is going to have one nasty neck pain when he wakes up. Tapping on IG and tapping on IG story, adding the picture and captioning ‘He still makes every appointment for me and FYI! He calls me a mouth breather lol. Love you @fuckyopictures’ pressing send on the post, I want to wake him and tell him about his neck, but I will leave it, let me call Jay Brown while I’m here and tell him I will do the Grammys, I don’t feel like shit anymore and I am ready to do that. I am ready to perform before I give birth, placing my phone against my ear as it rang out. Watch his ass not pick up, he always busy doing something “Rihanna” he answered “oh, very formal. In a meeting I am guessing?” He must be, I know that voice “you know me, but I had to answer. Everything ok? You’re important to me” he is so caring “I accept, me and Chris discussed, and he says make the Grammys about you, keep this a secret and then walk the carpet” I want him to know that Chris was involved “I like your husband, he is a clever man. I will tell them; this is going to be great. I will contact you soon I have to go. Bye” he disconnected the call, well he’s happy anyways. But I am excited about this, I think Chris is right. But I hope my face doesn’t look fat, oh my god I hope my face doesn’t come out because I will cancel that shit with quickness. I need to tell Tina actually, get the team together for the performance.

My driver opened my car door for me “thank you, I am going around to wake him” I added before he rushes over and opens the door for Chris, he is still asleep and I had to sit in silence because of him. Dragging open the car door “Chris, hey” tilting my head to see his face, god he is knocked out asleep “Christopher” patting his thigh, his head shot up and eyes wide open “hey” I laughed “we’re home, come out” walking off, he will eventually come out of the car. Making my way to the house, I am generally getting used to living here. At first I was a little not really liking it but I am getting there, it’s nice and smaller then what I would have gotten but I do like the stairs going up. I will need to childproof the whole house soon though, unlocking the door and pushing it open. Looking behind me and Chris hasn’t made his way out so I will leave it open for him, looking behind me once again “is he coming?” It’s making me doubt myself, the driver was going to go back around but I heard the door shut. Let me wait for my sleepy head to come, my smile grew seeing him dragging his feet. I am very much in love with him, the same way I saw him the first time, I do think to myself did I like him first day and if I am being honest with myself I was more scared he would be mean to me but I did fall for him “I love you Chris, I really do” Chris lazily put his arm around me “I know you do” he said huskily “you have really opened my heart in ways that I didn’t think could happen, I just want to thank you for loving me in every way” Chris chuckled “you’re being very loving now huh, what you want?” He questioned “dick” and I’m being deadass “that can be arranged, what you doing now” I’m sure Barry is here somewhere “office” nodding my head “can I come? I just want to be there for you, I want to know your business, if you don’t mind?” I want to be involved “but what if I’m not doing it right, you’re going to judge me” he is right “but then you learn, it’s ok” he needs to learn.

Chris keeps on looking over at me and then laughing, not sure why but he’s feeling like I am judging him but I’m not at all “how do you like, let me ask this. How do you take care of your family without giving them a job to help you? Like you and your family are good, no jealousy or upset but they live good, if you understand what I mean” why is Chris looking at me like he shy “what is it?” He’s stupid “no just looking but tell me” I chuckled “I don’t hire family, I treat them. When I go to Barbados I buy them gifts, I never have my family struggle at all. If they were I would want to know how to help, I learned giving money is a no. It doesn’t help, they do live good, and I do bring them on holiday and things but hiring family gets messy, even friends. I rather hire a person I don’t know then family. Worst mistake same goes for friends. I do spoil them, if they have a venture then I will help them with it and they know it. This is why I asked and said if they have a venture help them but hand on heart, after I heard they fucked your supplier up I wouldn’t give them shit, so why did you leave them in Vegas? For what? To have fun” Chris’ eyes widened “erm no” the erm speaks volumes “erm yes, don’t stick up for people like that Chris; they are playing with your money, so when something fucked up happens it will be Chris Brown’ friends messed up, never them. Your name and then mine, you need to be lethal, they will learn. The hardest part for you is maybe letting go and it is for me with my dad so I understand but now I am a wife and mother to be, I know where my loyalty lies and if my child or husband comes in harm’s way by my dad then I will cut him off, he can hurt me but not my family and trust me Chris I am waiting for that moment, I had to become this way or I would be taken advantage of and broke I guess” I didn’t want Chris to think I’m a hypocrite by saying that “I understand, so how would I do it. Telling them?” Good question “take them out for a meal, but Chris I have a feeling in my heart you’re covering up for them. They were in Vegas for nothing, and you left them there. I saw their posts, if I know they are using us as a pass into things, I won’t be happy. Nobody does that” Chris’ face went so small like I struck a nerve and I just know this game; I have lived through it and I don’t play at all.

Chris has been quiet ever since “so who is Deja?” I asked, he is answering her emails “she is working with my social media, since she started the page it has been super lit, there is three of them and they are answering service stuff, Neima and Cena are making a website which will be live soon” nodding my head “ok, that is fine. What to do with that, do a good launch. Freebies and stuff, entice people. I will promote it too; it’s your big day Chris so tell me when. I can you know be at your event, I mean not really but if you do a little IG live I can be on it, Chris it’s a big step. Be excited for it, so erm” I paused thinking “have you announced that website coming soon?” He nodded his head “ok, now post it on your personal page how excited you are. Just announce there is a surprise to come, I will figure something out for you. Let me just help you ok?” He was about to speak “but I am not with you to use your name” putting my hand up “stop, just let me help you and say there is a surprise, but I will think about what to do ok? Now discuss this with your team, your new team. I am going to find Mel, show her our baby, show her how active it is” getting up from the chair “you’re going to do good Chris; I just know it. I will help you” touching the top of his head before I walked off, he worries too much what people will thing when he shouldn’t “actually Chris, I have one. I will design a piece of clothing, limited edition” I winked at him, that just came to mind so quick there. That will help him a lot, they will eat that up, well my fans will anyways but then people will start buying and like his stuff because I do, he makes good stuff.

In no way shape or form am I being selfish with Robyn or declining what she wants to do for me but I wanted to kind of do it in my own but the more I realise, the more things are explained to me, the more hard this is to do on your own without the right backing which I have, with Robyn. I have Drake to fall on too also, I will contact him actually to help but I just need to get over this Barry and TJ shit “you’re here” Barry made his way into my office, looking up from my lap “you seem really down for a nigga that just saw his baby throwing up gang signs” I snorted laughing “gang signs, nigga” dapping him “I just saw the scan photos, cute bro. Baby is really claiming westside already” watching him sit down “thank you, I am excited for when the baby is here, just tired. If I am a little quiet” Barry looked around the office “you spending time with Mel then?” I mean what else if he here for “yeah, lay the pipe and leave” he laughed “that was your saying, don’t give me that look. She likes a chunky nigga with a big dick, what can I say” shaking my head “if you’re speaking like that then close the office door, what did you do in Vegas when I went?” I asked but I know what happened of course, I am not stupid “we were at your plot and we just were vibing, girls were just passing their numbers. We just living, you know what happened” Barry pointed at me “how many?” Barry cackled “yo, the girls were good” I sighed out “bro, leave Mel alone please. Just leave her, I don’t think you should be doing this to her. She is a good woman” Barry pulled a face at me “right I see you have your life in order, you’re married and everything. Just stay out of single folk business bro, come on” kissing my teeth “it is my business Barry, Mel is practically a sister to Robyn and if she finds out Robyn will know that I know! She fucking will, I am asking you as my friend to leave her alone” Barry knows I mean it now “just like that huh? We had sex and she’s a bad bitch you know these caribbean women love sex, you don’t know her sexually Chris, she sucked me off on the first time you know chicks like that stick, she is ok with it” he is a liar “bro I am telling you now, it ends here. You nicely say to her that I am not ready to settle, that is Robyn’ sister and I know this will upset her, and I thought you wouldn’t just be a dickhead about it, you got to stop and stop talking like that you dickhead! You know my wife’ background so shut the fuck up” Barry looks annoyed with me.

I need to speak up about it, I won’t say it to them, but he needs to stop this thing “right, so you’re upset about something that has nothing to do with you, why can’t you just keep your nose out of it right. I am having fun, she is too” he is funny “so she knows you’re having sex with other women? So I can just go up to her and tell and she will know?” he knows damn well that Mel doesn’t know shit “Chris, look. You are my brother, just let me have fun” punching the desk “Barry! You fucking listen to me, you drop it. She is a decent girl and doesn’t deserve this ego you have got right now; in her delusional mind she thinks you’re a good man! Not knowing you’re telling me she is a easy fuck! Fucking leave her or we going to have problems!” I shouted at him because I lost my temper, is he being fucking real right now with everything he is saying, playing girls like that “is everything ok here?” Mel and Robyn walked in “yeah, just having boys talk, right Barry?” he is angry, I know my friend “yes” sitting back in my seat “what are you both doing here?” I questioned “just Mel is going out with Barry now and I just come here to see your face” rolling my eyes playfully “miss me that much, my mom loved the photos. She is emotional about it, good looking out telling me to send them” my mother is so overjoyed, thanks to Robyn telling me to send them to her.

I was going to go for a nap, but Robyn sent me a text message saying come upstairs, that her back hurting so I guess I better make my way upstairs and help my baby to sleep. Walking up the steps while looking out of the window, my back yard is so damn beautiful. I really love it here, it’s so peaceful. Clearing my throat as I made my way to the bedroom, I think we need to start fixing the bedroom next door to ours for our baby. A smile grew on my face, just pure excitement hit me because I am about to be a whole daddy, I already love the baby “I am here” opening the bedroom door “you good?” closing the door behind me “oh you stood up now? You just text me that your back hurt and here I am, we can nap together” squinting my eyes “wait, you didn’t have makeup on before?” I pointed “I like how you notice poppa, I got dressed up for you. But” she dragged out undoing her robe, raising an eyebrow as Robyn took off her robe exposing her naked bottom, my breathing hitched “damn” I breathed out, she looks so beautiful naked “you look so good Robyn” it went straight to my dick, I felt it flinch already. Walking over to Robyn “your body is amazing Robyn, every part of it. You are really carrying our child, which makes you amazing” rubbing her bump with the back of my hand staring into her eyes, leaning down to Robyn and pressing a kiss to her lips and then moved away from her lips to cheek and down to her neck.

Our eyes met and held when I stepped forward and grabbed Robyn, pulling her body back to the edge of the bed. Licking my lips, I can’t help but touch her bump “you good with me touching your bump?” lightly touching “yes” Robyn placed her hand over mine “just makes me so happy to know how much you care” biting my bottom lip, moving my hand back and leaning down. The head of my erection pressed against the entrance of her sex and I am ready to be buried deep inside of her, it has been so long. I plan on slowly pushing myself all the way to the hilt and fill her completely. Spreading her legs wide and pushing them back into the air “you good?” I asked, I have too “yes, it’s ok Chris” I held on to her ankles and slid inside of her “damn!” Robyn spat, my groan was deep and long when she gripped my member and tighten around me. My hips barely moved forward; my rhythm is so slow. My eyes are locked on my dick sliding in and out of her. I enjoy watching myself disappear deep inside of her, it amazes me how stimulating such a thing as watching yourself stroke in and out of my wife could be. My eyes gazed up when I heard Robyn moan, her voice was caught in her throat, and all she could do was look up at me with begging eyes “faster” she wants me to go faster, to stroke a little deeper, to push a little harder. This agonizingly slow speed I was serving her was beginning to drive her mad clearly “I have to be nice” is Robyn crazy, we have to be good and not crazy about this.

I stared down at her face, loving each priceless expression she made. The ruffle between her eyebrows, the wrinkle of her nose, how tight her eyes were clenched shut, and what really turned me on, the way her tongue brushed across her bottom lip before pulling it back inside her mouth and biting down. It drove me wild, awaking the beast inside of me, but I had to contain myself. I fought the urge to flip her over and drive into her, something I really wanted to do, but I couldn't. I have my baby to think of now, I have to be good. Pulling out of her and thrust back inside of her and picked up my speed. Finding a natural rhythm, each stroke was filled with passion. Letting go of her ankles, I gripped her hips and piston into her. The bed rocked back and forth as Robyn gripped me and released, gripped me and release. My speed picked up more and my head fell back in ecstasy. It has been so long since sex “oh fuck!” I shouted; I know I will come early because it’s been too damn long since.

She came, I came. We both came hard. With a raspy grunt, we remained connected, our climax still slowly riding through us. I fell forward and placed my hands on either side of her, sucking down on her neck. My open mouth kisses moved across her ear "I love you" I started moving my hips again “my man always hard huh” I grinned “for you” nuzzling her nose, I am hard as hell for Robyn and always will, look how beautiful she looks under me “if I wasn’t already pregnant I would be” I didn’t even leave Robyn, I just can’t believe how hard I am still “you feel weird?” Robyn asked, placing her hand on my chest “a little, I would have flipped you over and fucked you so bad” kissing Robyn’ lips as I thrusted into her.

[st-crylo]

Rebound

Part 6

A/N: Sorry this took a little bit longer to get out, I’ve had a really busy couple of days. I hope you guys like this chapter, it’s filled with some drama!

Warnings: Swearing

Word Count: 5.2K

Tagging: @nankstasty @haylaansmi @thomasscresswell

Masterlist

Going home the next afternoon sucked. It was like plunging into ice cold water after being wrapped in warm blankets, and the moment you stepped through your front door that Sunday afternoon, you felt alone again. 

Your mom had given you a lecture about having not messaged her after the movie, but she seemed to get over it quickly. It was clear to you that she was simply content in seeing you do something other than hiding in your room in your sorrows. You couldn’t say you blamed her. Even as the feelings of sadness and loneliness crept back into you, you could recognize that your refusal to interact with the outside world following the receiving of the picture was nothing short of sad.

However, as you sat in your room that night after dinner, looking for something to keep you occupied, you began to scheme. You and Kylo were “official” now, so you needed to cement suspicion in the student body before going to school tomorrow. Just as your friendship had come to a shock to the student body, so would this, and if the student body knew, Shawn would know. 

Looking through your phone, you browsed the pictures you’d taken over the weekend. Seeing a picture you’d tried to take of Kylo that morning at breakfast, an idea came to mind. Closing out of your camera roll, you opened up Instagram, creating a new post. The first picture you used was a picture of the waterfall at Endor State Park. The second was the picture of Kylo at breakfast, his hand covering most of his face as he reached for the camera. You quickly typed out a caption before pressing the word “post.” Then, you decided to move over to your bio. For an extra bit of spice, you quickly edited your bio, adding the word “taken” in the space it had once been when you’d been dating Shawn. Then, you put today’s date and saved. Now all there was left to do was wait. 

It took maybe fifteen minutes before you’d gotten a message in your DM’s. You opened up the message request, and much to your content, the message was exactly what you wanted.

Are you dating Ben Solo?

You responded with a quick yes before your phone began to ring. Kylo’s name flashed across the screen, and you picked up, putting the phone to your ear.

“Y’know, I’m hurt you used that picture,” came Kylo’s voice with feigned annoyance. You laughed before letting out a sigh.

“I figured that picture would be a little more mysterious. Besides, the other picture I have of you, you were making that stupid face. I figured you would hate that picture more,” you responded, leaning against your bed frame as you stared out the window. 

“Fair point. This is gonna cause a shit storm tomorrow, you know that, right?” he asked. 

“That’s the idea. Gotta get the people talking.”

“Alright, well, I’ll see you in the morning. Later.”

“Later,” you responded before hanging up the phone. As soon as you put the phone down, though, you felt the buzz of a message coming through. Bringing your phone back up from your lap, you saw you had a message from Poe.

Please tell me you’re joking.

You couldn’t lie and say you didn’t know this was coming. After all, none of them liked Kylo, especially Rey. You knew Rey would have a lot to say about it eventually, but you really weren’t expecting an almost instantaneous message from someone. A part of you wished you could tell them about the plan, how you weren’t really interested in Kylo that way, but you knew they would hate that too. The idea of you even hanging around Kylo was hard for any of them to understand, you weren’t naive enough to think otherwise. If you told them about the plan, they’d say something about how Kylo had put you up to it, and how it wasn’t really you. So, as hard as it was, you had to keep the facade up with them as well.

What do you mean? You responded before looking at a notification from instagram. Sami had commented a number of emojis underneath your post. Just as you were about to respond, you were receiving another call. 

“Hello?” you asked as you answered the phone.

“Cut the shit, (y/n). Are you really dating Ben Solo? Of all people?” came Poe’s voice from the other end of the receiver. You let out a sigh before answering.

“Yes, I’m dating Kylo,” was all you said. You didn’t need to justify the reason. Even if the relationship was real, you would hope that your friends would respect your choice, or at least not be so up front about it. To be fair, though, Poe was the only one to say anything so far, but you knew more was coming your way.

“I get that you’re hurt from what Shawn did, but that doesn’t make it okay to jump to the next shitty guy who will have you. He’s a piece of shit, (y/n), he’s always getting into trouble, and he’s probably going nowhere with his life!” The words stung. You knew Poe was mad, but that didn’t justify his cruel words. Now, you were starting to boil over with rage.

“Fuck you, Dameron.”

“C’mon, (y/n), you know I didn’t mean it like that, it’s just that-”

“That I’m going for the next shitty guy that will have me? Grow the fuck up. When was the last time you bothered to talk to him, or even know the person he is now? And how the fuck dare you say something like that to me? What the fuck else was it supposed to mean? I know you might not agree with all of my decisions, but I at least hoped you would respect me enough to not degrade me for the decisions I make.”

“But this isn’t who you are! We’ve all been thinking about it, but this really just proved it. You’re not like Solo’s group of friends, and you’re trying too hard to reinvent yourself after what happened,” Poe fought back.

“Sorry that I can’t just go back to the person I was before I got cheated on. Sorry I can’t be the perfect little girlfriend I was to Shawn and never do anything but study and chat all day long! The person I was with Shawn wasn’t really me, and the fact that you expect me to still be that person really fucking hurts. It tells me that you can’t understand how something like that can change everything about a person. Even so, that’s not why I’m dating Kylo. I’m dating Kylo because for once, someone doesn’t expect me to be what they want me to be, and it’s so goddamn refreshing. So go fuck yourself, Dameron, and don’t talk to me until you get your head out of your ass,” you all but screamed into the phone. Once you finished, you hung up, tossing your phone onto your bed. You grabbed the nearest pillow and screamed into it, infuriated. Tears streaked down your face as you steeped in your anger, trying to process the conversation you’d just had.

The next shitty guy who would have you? He made it sound as if you had been jumping to relationships over the years, as opposed to the reality that you’d been stuck in a relationship for three years that ended in nothing. Poe hadn’t even bothered to ask what it was about Kylo that made you want to date him, he simply assumed the worst and decided to share his assumptions with you. Through all your anger, you felt a pang in your chest from the hurt of what had just been said to you. 

You were grateful that your relationship wasn’t actually real though. If it was, this conversation would have crushed you. Even so, you weren’t sure you could ever look Poe in the eye the same way again.

The next morning you tried your hardest not to think about your conversation with Poe, at least until you could tell Kylo about it. You knew Kylo would be furious- rightfully so in your opinion- but you knew that talking to him about it would make you feel a lot better. You rushed out of your house, only barely remembering to grab your lunch from the counter before heading outside and meeting Kylo in his driveway. 

As soon as you caught sight of Kylo, you felt your eyes well up with tears. Kylo smiled at you when he spotted you, but it faded to a frown when he realized you were on the verge of tears. As you approached him, you wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in his chest as you let out a few sobs. He wrapped his arms around you as well, letting you expel your tears before wiping a few of them away. Once you cried all you could, you walked over to the passenger side, climbing into the car. 

Once Kylo had climbed in and started the ignition, he turned to look at you while backing out of the driveway and into the cul de sac. 

“So, are you gonna tell me what happened?” he asked before beginning the route out of the neighborhood. 

You explained the whole conversation with Poe, trying to hold in anymore tears of mixed rage and sadness so you could properly explain. As you expected, Kylo was furious. His knuckles turned white as they gripped onto the steering wheel.

“What the fuck kind of friend even says that?” he said, teeth grit and voice dangerously soft. 

“I don’t know. I don’t understand why he thought that was an okay thing to say to me,” you said, wiping away the tears threatening to spill. 

“On the bright side, I don’t think anything anyone else will say to you could be any worse,” Kylo said with a small bit of optimism in his voice. You smiled up at him, truly thankful for his patience with you. Kylo was certainly a friend that could never be replaced. 

Upon arriving at school, the two of you sat in the car so you could take some extra time to regain any composure you’d lost on the way here. You knew you had to prepare yourself for the eyes that would be following the two of you, but that was the easy part. The hard part was, and would always be, the whispers. If Poe’s reaction to the news was bad, you were afraid to see the reaction of everyone else at Mos Eisley High. 

Sure enough, the eyes were everywhere. Of course, it didn’t help that Kylo chose to make a spectacle about it by wrapping an arm around your shoulders as he walked with you through the halls. It also didn’t help when, at the part of the hall where the two of you usually departed, Kylo leaned down close to you, placing a kiss on your cheek. Despite the incessant chatter in the halls that had the volume of a dull roar, you knew that everyone had just seen Kylo do it, and you couldn’t help the fierce blush that rose to your cheeks as you waved a goodbye to Kylo before he disappeared within the crowd of gossiping people. 

The whispers, however, weren’t as bad as you had feared. It seemed that a lot more people were sympathetic to you, even though they all seemed to disapprove of your choice in man.

“I just can’t believe she’s in another relationship so soon.”

“Can you blame her? I would be moving on quickly too, if I’d gone through the same thing.”

“I just don’t understand why it’s with him.”

Kylo’s reputation simply couldn’t be helped. You could live with that, as long as you didn’t get anymore of what you’d gotten yesterday. The more you thought about it, you kind of liked the idea of dating the bad boy of the school. Maybe it was cliche, but it was kind of thrilling, not to mention the whole construct of your “relationship” was as well. Not only was it a pretty devious revenge scheme, but you’d now have a new reputation of your own, instead of the subservient girlfriend you had always been. It was a nice change, and gave you more of an opportunity to explore who you really were. 

Once you’d gotten to math, everything seemed to calm down a little more. There were still whispers, but the amount had decreased, which was something you could honestly work with. You were sure to be the subject of many a lunchroom gossip for a while, but the less you had to hear it, the better it was. As you pulled out your notebook to begin taking notes, you felt your phone buzz from your pocket. You discreetly pulled it out to see a message from Kylo.

Dickhead Dylan won’t stop staring at me. You held in a laugh as you texted back your reply.

Give him an air kiss. This man is so homophobic, his brain might split in half if you do.

What a sight that would be. 

Letting out a soft chuckle, you shoved your phone back into your pocket before continuing with your note taking. So far, the day seemed to be flying by, which you were actually quite thankful for. It was certainly better than last week's feeling of each block being an eternity. 

Though the whispers had followed you all the way to the cafeteria, you were grateful for the break. Heading out to the courtyard, you spotted your lunch group. As always, Sami and Alan were already there, Sami sketching in her sketchbook and Alan doing his normal routine of pushing the food around on his plate. As you sat down, you pulled out the oreos your mom had packed for your lunch and tossed it Alan’s way. His face lit up as he looked at it.

“(y/n), you’re the best,” Alan said before digging into one of the oreos. 

“I try,” you said with a smile. 

“You don’t even have to,” came Kylo’s voice from behind you. You turned around to see him standing behind you, a smirk on his face as he looked down at you. Then, he took his spot beside you, making sure to sit close so that the wandering eyes in the courtyard could witness the two of you together. It was a spectacle to them, and you figured you might as well give them a show. As soon as Kylo settled down beside you, you leaned your head against his shoulder while taking a bite of your sandwich. 

“You two are really the talk of the town,” Sami said, not looking up from her sketchbook. 

“Can’t say I’m surprised. People love getting involved in business that isn’t their own,” Kylo said before biting into an apple. 

“That was the whole point though, wasn’t it?” Sami asked, looking up and glancing back and forth between the two of you.

“She’s right, that is the point. Though, if the soccer players think about it too hard, their brains may implode,” you quipped. Kylo let out a chuckle before taking another bite from his apple. 

“I thought Dylan might have an aneurysm, his blood vessel was popping on his head like some kind of cartoon character,” he remarked. 

“Has anyone seen Phasma today?” Alan suddenly chipped in with a mouth full of oreos. You had only just noticed Phasma’s absence. 

“She went to help Jordan move into her dorm,” Sami answered, looking back down at her sketchbook. Alan nodded at her response, shoving the last oreo into his mouth as he did so. 

Once lunch had ended, you and Kylo continued your routine of holding hands on the way to physics. It was a simple way to be affectionate, and the most comfortable in your opinion. The way Kylo’s hands seemed to dwarf your own just made holding his hand feel so natural. 

The classroom went silent when the two of you walked in. You didn’t bother to look and see if Shawn was already present. Instead, you simply walked over to your seat and pulled your notebook out, ready to take notes the moment Mr. Windu began lecturing. 

The silence in the classroom did not lift after that. The only sounds that really penetrated the blanket of soundlessness were the occasional whispers, but they were too soft for you to make out what exactly they were saying. You decided though that you didn’t really care what they were saying, at least in this class. You didn’t want to overhear whatever nasty thoughts Shawn or Dylan might have about you. 

“Well this is a nice surprise,” Mr. Windu said as he walked in the classroom and over to his desk. Once he began his lecture, you could feel the eyes staring into the back of your head, as if the glance was murderous. Though you hadn’t even looked him in the eye yet, you already knew you had pissed Shawn off. It was as if you could feel the hatred oozing from his body, creating a miasma all over the physics room. It penetrated every crevice, and poisoned the very air.

Good. Now he had even the slightest inkling of understanding what you felt. It gave you satisfaction that he was so angry, you couldn’t lie about that. He deserved it, after all, with what he’d put you through. Though you knew there was no way he would truly ever feel what you had felt, this was good enough. In fact it was wonderful, knowing that you had sent him a silent fuck you, and that you’d given him proof that you would never be with him again.

Throughout class, you tried to do little things you knew would annoy him- not that the way you and Kylo had been acting before wasn’t annoying him already. Every once in a while, you would mess with Kylo’s hand under the table, or put your leg flush against his. It truly proved the advantage of sitting closer towards the front of the class. 

At the end of class, you gathered all of your things, shoving them into your backpack so you could be ready to head out the door as soon as the bell rang. When it did, Kylo stood first, waiting for you before continuing out of the classroom. When you fell in place next to Kylo, he wrapped his arm around your shoulder as the two of you walked to English.

“You could’ve cut the tension in there with a knife,” Kylo remarked. “Thought a dagger might materialize into my back with the way he was staring.”

“No kidding. Do you think he’s mad?” you joked, causing Kylo to laugh. 

“Maybe a little,” he responded as the two of you walked into English. When you first walked in, the first person you saw was Poe. The two of you made eye contact for a brief second before you turned away, taking your seat next to Kylo. You could feel Poe’s gaze linger for a moment before you saw him turn towards the front from your peripherals. It was incredible how the site of him brought back even the smallest portion of your rage. 

Trying to calm yourself down, you pulled out everything you needed for class before leaning back in your seat. You then watched as Sami came in the door, sitting in front of you like usual. 

“Can you believe that Mr. Plo is assigning a five page paper on the party system? It’s the second week of school!” Sami said with exacerbation, placing her backpack on Phasma’s empty seat. 

“That’s bullshit. When’s it due?” Kylo asked.

“Friday! I have to have a five page paper done in less than a week! Sometimes I seriously consider dropping out,” Sami huffed. 

“Can’t say I blame you. I have 3 pages worth of math homework to do, and they’re due tomorrow,” you added. 

“Why is it that now that it’s not the first week, teachers decided it’s okay to give mountains of homework?” She said, pulling out her stuff from her backpack. 

“Because we’re seniors, and they’re ‘preparing us for college,’” Kylo answered. He brought up a good point. All of your teachers had mentioned at one point that they were preparing you for college, the hidden specter in the not so distant future. Though it was exciting to think about graduating, college was definitely a daunting thought. You shook the thought out of your mind, though, as Mr. Skywalker stood from his desk. 

Maybe it was the fact that you were in the same room with all of your old friends, but English seemed to move horrendously slow. Every word that came out of Mr. Skywalker’s mouth seemed to move at half the speed, and the ticking of the clock on the wall almost seemed like it was taunting you, showing you the futility of hoping for time to pass more quickly. 

“Alright, the essay isn’t due for another two weeks, but I’m going to go ahead and hand you the rubric. It would probably be within your best interest to go ahead and start gathering any quotes you want to use, and any outside sources too. I know a lot of your teachers are assigning you a lot of homework, that’s why I’m giving you the rubric this far in advance. Any questions?” Mr. Skywalker looked around the room to confirm that no one had any questions. When the class remained silent, he let out a sigh. “Alright, go ahead and pack up, I’m going to pass these around.” 

Without any further prompting, the whole class moved to put their things away in their respective bags while Mr. Skywalker handed out rubrics to each table. After he’d gotten to yours, you also rushed to put your things away, ready to get home. This day had used up a lot of your energy, and you were ready to lie down for a while. Standing from your desk, you slipped your arm through one of the straps of your backpack, and slung your backpack over your shoulder. Sami and Kylo soon followed, standing and waiting for the crowd to pass by before the three of you made your way out of the school. You made a point of looking down at your phone while your old friends passed by. 

When most of the people left the classroom, the three of you walked out, heading towards the entrance of the school. You all walked side by side, moving past the last remnants of the crowd in the halls, everyone just ready to get home for the day. Once you’d stepped outside of the doors of the school, you let out a sigh as the sun warmed up your whole body with its light. 

“You two drive safe,” Sami said to you and Kylo.

“We’re just going down the road,” Kylo said, rolling his eyes. You let out a small laugh at the sight of him doing so.

“Well, you should still be safe anyways,” Sami said, sticking out her tongue at Kylo playfully before waving goodbye to the two of you and heading for the buses. You waved back at her, and then followed Kylo to his car. 

“Well, that’s day one of our arrangement,” Kylo said with a sigh as soon as the two of you had gotten inside the car. You let out a deep breath you didn’t know you’d been holding in.

“I don’t know if I can handle being around my old friends for a while. I couldn’t even look at any of them earlier,” you confessed to Kylo as he turned the key in the ignition. 

“I’m gonna be honest with you. If they really care about you, they’ll eventually come around. Unless I very openly was treating you like shit, they should learn to respect your decision,” Kylo said as he pulled out of the parking spot. You frowned as you thought about his words. You had thought the same way, but another person confirming it just made it hit home. You didn’t want to lose your friends, you loved them dearly, but if they couldn’t accept your choices, you may just have to take a break from being friends with them, at least until they came around. It wasn’t even just about you “dating” Kylo. It was about your need to discover who you really are, and the fact that they would need to accept whoever it was you decided you truly are. 

Poe had said that the way you were acting wasn’t you, but if you didn’t really know who you were, they definitely didn’t. If they didn’t like the person you became, you feared you would have to leave them behind with all of your memories from before Shawn cheated on you, and from before you became friends with Kylo again. It was a hard thing to think about, so you decided to put it out of mind for now.

“On the brightside, Gran likes you. She says you’re ‘a really sweet girl,’” Kylo said, changing the subject, for which you were thankful.

“Oh, really? Have you told them yet?” you asked, turning to look at Kylo. The afternoon sun hit his eyes just right, making them look amber.

“No, but I was going to tonight. Might as well, I’m sure they’ll hear it from my uncle soon enough,” he said, running a hand through his black hair before letting out a sigh. “It’s telling my mom that’s gonna be a little more difficult.”

“Why’s that?”

“She asks way too many questions. She wants to know every little detail about it, like how I asked, why I wanted to ask, have we gone on any dates yet. It’s just a lot to handle at one time. I’ll let Gran tell her, I’m sure she will almost immediately afterwards,” Kylo responded. You could understand that, especially in this context. You couldn’t blame her, though, it wasn’t like Kylo really talked to her all that much.

“Why don’t you talk to your mom more?”

The question prompted silence, and for a few seconds, the two of you were stewing in your question. You watched as Kylo’s face turned to one of thought as he pondered over how to answer your question. You worried that maybe you’d asked too personal a question, until Kylo began to talk.

“I don’t know. I just don't feel like I can tell her anything. I used to be able to, we used to be really close, but over the years, I guess it became harder to be open. I don’t hate her, like Rey seems to think I do, I just...can’t really talk to her anymore.”

You turned to look forward as you thought about his answer. In a way, it made sense. Most teenage boys felt they couldn’t talk to their parents about things, and you knew for a fact Kylo wasn’t really on speaking terms with his father. It still made you sad, though. You wondered if something like that could really ever be the same.

The rest of the ride home, you changed the subject to more lighthearted conversation. Soon, the heavy conversations of earlier were merely memories in the back of your minds. As Kylo pulled into the driveway, he let out a laugh at a joke you’d made, causing you to laugh as well. When he put the car in park, the two of you both let out sighs.

“Alright, well I’ll see you tomorrow. Try not to drown in your math homework,” Kylo said as he turned off the engine. You smiled and shook your head.

“Try I definitely will, but I can’t make any promises,” you said before stepping out of the car, and heading to your house. 

Once inside, you made your way up the stairs, wanting to go ahead and get your homework out of the way. At almost the exact moment you sat down at your desk in your room, your phone began to ring. Great. With a glance at the screen, you saw that it was Rey, and a chill filled your chest. Though Poe’s response had been disappointing enough, you were more afraid of how Rey would feel. With a deep breath, you picked up the phone and put it to your ear.

“Hello?”

“I was really hoping this was a joke, so I’m asking you now whether it’s real or not,” came Rey’s voice from the other side of the receiver. With a sigh, you rubbed your forehead before answering her.

“Yes, it’s real. Are you gonna lecture me, too?” you asked, already losing your patience.

“Look, I had the sense to wait a day before saying anything to you, and what Poe said was really shitty.”

“At least someone thinks so,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“But he’s not entirely wrong. First of all, you are rushing into a whole new relationship, you have to know how that looks-”

“No, Rey, I don’t know how it looks, why don’t you educate me?”

“C’mon, (y/n), don’t play dumb. There are people who are thinking that you were talking to Kylo before you and Shawn broke up, which in their eyes, makes you no better than him. I know you weren’t, but it doesn’t change the fact that people are thinking that way. On top of that, Ben is shitty. He’s shitty to his parents, and he’s shitty to our grandparents. I have no doubt that in the end, he’ll be shitty to you, too,” Rey combated. You took in a deep breath, because if you didn’t, you would run off at the mouth. Instead, you took a moment to collect your thoughts.

“I’m curious Rey, when was the last time you bothered to talk to your cousin? Like, really talk to him? You don’t even bother to know the person he is before you believe everything that everyone else says. Does he make mistakes, yes, but if you actually talked to him, you might realize that he’s trying to learn from them, but people like you and everyone else in this goddamn town won’t let him. You know what, if all of you are planning to lecture me this week, just tell everyone else not to fucking bother.”

“(y/n), we’re only looking out for you. I think you’re giving Ben too much credit, he spent the summer under house arrest for God’s sake! He’s a loser, and you know it. He isn’t going to go anywhere in his life,” Rey said with finality. 

“You know what, one day I hope you can learn to respect my decisions, even if you don’t like them, but until then, don’t bother to call or text. I don’t need you trying to convince me I don’t know who my own damn boyfriend is,” you said. Without any hesitation afterwards, you hung up the phone. 

You knew it was coming, but that didn’t make it any less disappointing. As tears threatened to be released from your eyes for the second time today, you pulled out your homework and began working, trying to keep yourself distracted from the fact that you may lose your friends over something so stupid.

[cleoselene]

I hate when people shit on things or people that others are interested because of callout culture

life is hard stan who you like.  don’t like ‘em, don’t stan ‘em.

they don’t all have to be saints and I guarantee you one of your faves has done or said something you don’t like

there is no fandom full of completely pure people

and yes it’s easy to tell the difference between what’s forgivable and what’s not

BUT ON AN EVEN BIGGER NOTE

callout culture reminds me of environmentalist culture.  To make an exmaple: there’s a billboard near my house of a green sludge monster (Florida is suffering a toxic algae bloom, it’s horrible man.  I’m getting eye infections from the air quality) and the caption says “DON’T FEED THE MONSTER!  DON’T USE THE WRONG FERTILIZER” and it’s basically putting the onus of this environmental disaster on the individual.  And while I agree that people who fawn over a perfect lawn are wasteful dicks, this disaster is not of their creation.

you see, the real problem is, Florida grows a lot of sugar cane.  Governor Rick Scott and others relaxed regulation on the fertilizer THEY could use.  This runoff of fertilizer is killing good organisms and allowing toxic green algae to bloom, which is colliding with a normal red tide to make people sick and kill countless marine animals and water fowl.

But the billboard is telling us it’s our lawn.  Just like it’s your fault if you didn’t recycle, or buy a hybrid, or if you use a straw.  this is on you, individuals, look what you’ve done.  And we’ve trained others concerned about the environment to shame and harass people who don’t adhere to best practices.

the truth is, however, saving the environment requires a massive effort on the part of industry and government.  Not on the individual.   Not to say you shouldn’t do the right thing, but maybe save your ire for the ones who truly created this mess.

This is like liking an actor who says or does something stupid.  And never a word on the industries that encourage people to embrace prejudices and biases and warped fucking ideas of things (again, not for malicious racists or sexists or whatever, but you can clearly tell when some people are just straight up ignorant, too)

it’s so much easier to yell at fans of someone and tell them they’re the worst person ever.  you can’t enjoy this, consume this, let this give you happiness, because it’s on YOU to change the entire world and YOUR actions are why bad things happen.  You’re the problem, YOU are always the problem.  Never mind that most of us are basically powerless

I’m not telling you not to use your voice if there’s something you dislike.  And obviously actual criminals who have assaulted people are exempt.  Shame away the R. Kelly fans (though you really should be going after his record companies and anyone who promotes him the hardest, more so than fans).   Direct your complaints to the studios, they all have social media accounts, the writers, the people with the actual power to change things are reachable are the ones who need to hear things.  Not some kid who loved JLaw in the Hunger Games movies but is now being told by the internet how much she is the fucking devil.

But don’t harass other fans for just trying to enjoy something in this miserable world, but you remember that one time that actor said something dumb so you must agree!!!  

it’s just you trying to prove you’re better than someone else and it’s tiring

[figureditoutkindalikeit-blog]

PART TWO - “We try so hard to hide everything we’re really feeling from those who probably need to know our true feelings the most” – Colleen Hoover, Maybe Someday

The sun was peeking through the tree leaves and even that early in the morning it was very bright. Lori was sitting on a bench at Regent’s Park with her camera on her lap. She enjoyed waking up early on the weekend to go to parks and take pictures of the first rays of sun hit the trees. There was always a poetic vibe to the light on those circumstances and being able to walk around before anyone else got in the parks, gave a sense of creative freedom to her. She was taking a sip of her hot chai, watching as the first few people begin to enter the park, when she got a text. She places her cup next to her and grabs her phone to check it. The text read: “’I have such desire to sleep and am so much behind my sleep. A good night, one good night and all this nonsense will be swept away’ - H”. Lori smiles at it and replies “A bit dark, but suitable for a morning note, I guess”. Harry answers with a smiley emoji. Ever since they realized both wanted to keep in touch but that wish got lost in translation – along with the disappearing note – they started talking a lot over the phone, and picked up the habit of sending each other little notes with quotes from authors they knew or liked. It was an almost every day thing, taking turns on who would send that day. Harry was the one that forgot his notes duties more often, but Lori didn’t mind, ‘coz she knew he worked a lot and almost always had busy days. When that happened, she just kept her notes to herself, waiting until he realized it was his turn, which didn’t take long because he’d end up missing hers and realizing why she wasn’t sending any. Today was Harry’s day. 

Sometimes the only interaction they would have would be the notes, and that was fine. So Lori placed the phone back in her pocket and grabbed her tea from the bench. It was, truly, a beautiful Sunday morning. She was enjoying her peace and quiet when she heard a shout out behind her. She turns around and sees her friend, Jorge.

-          Hey, papi!

-          Buenos dias, mama! – he says with a peck on her cheek.

-          How are you?

-          I’m great, finally a warm morning. I was pretty sure becoming an Eskimo, I’m certain I’d be living in an Igloo if summer didn’t show its face anytime soon.

-          You’re the one that decided to leave Argentina, Jorge.

-          I do miss my porteño sun.

-          Isn’t Argentina pretty cold too, tho?

-          In the winter, as it should be! Summer? Hot!

-          Hm…well. That’s what you get up north, sweetie.

-          Might be true but my latino ass does not appreciate it.

Lori smiles.

-          Where have you been taking that latino ass anyway? I haven’t seen you at the gym lately. You still go there, right?

-          Yeah…well….sort of….

-          You didn’t trade gyms on me, Jorge?! I swear to god…

-          No, no. That’s my gym. It’s just…

-          Jorge!

-          Remember Matt?

-          The juice guy?

-          Smoothie guy!

-          Potato, potato…

-          Well…we’ve been seeing each other…

-          Oh, you finally agreed to go out with him…

-          Yeah, turns out there IS some juice on that smoothie!!!

-          Oh…for a minute there I was happy for you.

-          Ah, c’mon sourpuss. He’s nice.

-          I knew that. I told you that. A million times…you didn’t like his hair, like that’s a good reason for turning someone down.

-          Ah, really? Miss “I don’t date curly haired men”.

-          Ah, ok, that’s unfair…I never said that I wouldn’t date…

They walk out of the park together, arm in arm, talking about their dating endeavors. Jorge had agreed to take Lori out shopping, because she needed a good outfit for a party tonight. Grimmy was having a early birthday party and that was something she couldn’t get out of, not only because she would never do that to Nick, who was a great friend, but because the reason it was an early celebration was because Lori would be flying Italy next week and wouldn’t be in the UK on the actual date, so he decided to have it earlier so she could attend. But she didn’t have anything to wear, other than things Grim’s already seen her in, and she knew he’d be bitter about her repeating an outfit on his birthday, so she needed to make a good impression.

By 1h30 pm, they had already been to three stores, none had anything Lori liked, so they decided to stop for lunch at Andina, the Peruvian restaurant at Shoreditch, before trying some other stores. Jorge comes back from the loo and sees Lori smiling at her phone, before sitting down.

-          Mr. Mystery Man?

-          What? – she says, looking up from her phone.

-          Who are you talking to?

-          What? No one I’m…

-          MMM indeed.

-          What???

-          MMM! Mr. Mystery Man. The guy bringing that smile to your face every time you talk to him.

-          What are you talking about? What smile? What man?

-          Tú piensas que soy tonto, mama? I Love you, but you’re a bitter bitch. Not many drag a smile out of you that effortlessly. Wanna know who does? Un hombre!!!

-          How can you be so sure of that?

Jorge just raises his eyebrows at her. She didn’t even realize she was smiling, but he was right, she was talking to someone that made her happy. Harry had just asked her if she was going to Nick’s party, which meant he was, and that made her very happy. The prospect of seeing Harry live again made her get all sorts of feelings.

She just puts her phone down, looking unfazed at Jorge.

-          No point in pretending to be unbothered now, mama. Your teeth sold you out 5 minutes ago. – he says as the waiter brings them their meals.

Later, at a store, Lori was trying a dress she wasn’t sure about.

-          I don’t know Jorge…it’s too revealing…

-          That’s the whole point.

-          It’s a friends party, I don’t want to reveal anything…especially not to him, I’ll never hear the end of it… - she says already picturing Nick’s face when he sees that cleavage.

As Lori looks at herself at the mirror, Jorge takes her phone from her coat and goes through it. He smiles at the sight of what he was looking for, so he takes a picture of her reflection in the mirror, without her seeing it.

-          I mean…it’s not me, you know? And I don’t think it would be the right occasion as well…

-          To look hot? Every occasion is the right occasion to turn some heads around. Plus, your friend seems to like it.

Lori turns around to find Jorge playing with her phone.

-          What?

-          Edward? He likes it. – He says showing her her own phone.

-          Whaaaaat have you doooone??? – She says grabbing the phone from him.

Jorge sent the picture to Harry, who was listed on her contacts as Edward. He sent the picture with a question mark caption. Harry answered with another question mark.

-          What do you think? – Jorge sent as her.

-          Uhm. Looks nice?! – Harry answered.

-          Do you like it?

-          Yeah. Sure.

-          Would you like to see it tonight at the party?

-          Ha ha. Yeah, sure. Why not? I’ll have to dress up!

Lori could feel her face boiling. Jorge was smiling from ear to ear.

-          WHAT…HAVE…YOU….DONE????? – she says throwing every piece of clothing she could grab at him. – Jorge!!! WHY? Why would you do that?????

-          Queeee??? Now you know he’ll like it.

-          WE’RE NOT DATING YOU MORON! He’s just a friend….oh my god… - she says melting down until she’s completely horizontal on the floor of the fitting room.

-          A friend? Cariño, I’m a friend. And I sure as hell know I don’t get a smile out of you the way he does.

-          Yeah, you know why??? Because he WOULD NEVER DO THIS!!!! – she says sitting up and throwing more stuff at Jorge.

-          Well, it doesn’t matter. What matters is: he likes it…enough for him to want to “dress up”…if you play nice maybe he’ll want to dress down as well later.

-          Vete a la mierda, Jorge!!!!

He Just laughs.

Later that night, Lori is sitting in the car, parked in front of the club Nick’s birthday was at.

-          Ehm…miss?

Lori looks at the taxi driver.

-          Is this the right address?

-          Yes

-          Are…you……coming in? – he says wondering why it’s been 15 minutes since they’ve arrived and she was still inside the car.

-          Ah, yes, sorry. Just….building up the courage.

-          Big night?

-          Potential horrible night.

-          Oh…good luck, then, love.

-          Thank you! – She says paying him and exiting the car.

She stays put at the sidewalk, looking at the building, for another good 30 seconds.

-          Miss…

She turns around and the car is still there, with the driver by the window.

-          I don’t mean to rush ya, love…but I have to keep working for the night…and I can’t just leave you standing there…

-          Oh, right, sorry. Thanks!!! I’ll…I’ll get in. Thank you for your concern, sir.

He smiles and watches her go up to the door. She turns around and waves at him, that waves back and drives off. What a nice man, she thought. She turns around to face the door and the pit in her stomach resumes. She considered not going the whole drive there, but every time she almost told the driver to turn around, she remembered Nick, and how annoying he would be Monday at work. So she takes a deep breath and enters the club. The music inside was loud and the place was packed with people drinking, dancing, having a good time. Lori glances at the dance floor and sees a couple of familiar faces. Some from work, some friends Nick introduced her to already. Thankfully, no Harry. Maybe he couldn’t come, that would be a relief. She walks up to the bar, looking for Nick all the way there. She calls the bartender.

-          What can I get you, love?

-          Anything that gets me drunk. Fast.

-          Are ya sure? – he says, laughing.

-          Like I’ve never been before!

-          Ok. One strong drink coming.

She sits at the stool and looks around for Nick once more. The bartender brings her a glass with a fluorescent liquid inside.

-          What the…

-          Don’t let the looks fool ya. The pretty ones are always the ones that hits ya the hardest – he says with a wink.

-          I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks. – she says taking the glass in her hand.

She looks at the limey orange drink and thinks twice before drinking it. But she really needed something to fill the hole in her stomach; she thought why not something that looked like Homer Simpson concocted. So she takes a sip and is pleasantly surprised by how good it tasted. A few people come up to her to say hi, each time made her jump in her seat thinking it was Harry. But the sips she kept taking from her drink helped her not feel so alarmed anymore, when Nick finally comes up to her.

-          There you are!!!

-          Niiiiiickkk!!! Heeey baby! – she says throwing herself to hug him.

-          Jesus!!! How many of those have you had already? – He says picking her back up on the seat.

-          What? This? Erm…JULIO! – she says calling the bartender.

-          His name is not Julio – Nick says laughing.

-          I don’t care. Julio always seems like a suitable name for a bartender, so for tonight…this is Julio – she says pointing at the bartender arriving to them.

-          Hi. Sorry. – Says Nick, smiling.

-          How many of those have you made me already, Julio? – she says lifting her almost empty glass.

-          Three.

-          Three!!! – She says making the number with her fingers to Nick.

-          Oh, ok…well…maybe that’s enough?

-          What? Why??? It’s goooood….

The bartender laughs, cleaning a glass.

-          She asked to get drunk. Sat here and never left. I’m guessing she needed that. – says the bartender to Nick.

-          Yeah, well, she doesn’t drink that much…

-          What is in this anyway? – she says now looking at the bottom of her glass, examining the content.

-          Devil Springs – says the bartender.

-          Oh… - says Nick taking the glass out of Lori’s hand. – Three glasses of Devil Springs is enough for you.

-          What is Devil Springs?

-          Vodka – says the bartender.

-          What? I’ve had vodka before…Nick…why are you taking my vodka away from me?

-          You’ll be saying goodbye to that vodka into a toilet if you keep this up…and that’s expansive shit, so let’s keep it in as much as we can, yea? – says Nick picking her up.

-          Uhh…

He tries carrying her out of the bar, but she insists that she’s not drunk and can walk by herself, thank you very much. So he just walks beside her, guiding her to the upper floor of the club.

-          Oh, VIP? – she says as a big security guard takes a rope out of her way. – You bitch, why didn’t you say there was VIP? I would’ve kept looking for you forever…

-          I did. I told you to look for me at the upper floor.

-          I thought I was at the upper floor.

-          Jesus, woman!

They walk up to a couple of couches near a balcony, with a big coffee table at the center. She immediately blushes at the sight of Harry, sitting in one of them. He was talking to another guy and didn’t seem to notice she was there, so she turned around trying to leave but Nick was right behind her.

-          What are you doing? – says Nick, serious.

-          I’m…going….to take a wee.

Nick raises his eyebrows.

-          You’re going to take a wee….

-          Yes! That’s right – she says with a sudden confident tone of voice – I had too much vodka, I need to pee. – she says smiling.

-          Are you sure you don’t want to throw up?

-          What? No!!! I’m NOT drunk!

She realizes her tone of voice was too loud, so she turns around and sees Harry looking at her. Shit!

-          You want me to take you to the bathroom? – says Nick behind her.

-          I’m…

Harry was just staring at her, taking a dip of his drink.

-          I…

-          Goddamit woman are you having a stroke or something??? – says Nick losing his patience.

-          Heeey, be nice. – Says Harry.

-          Are you going to throw up???? Because if you are I beg you not to do it in the middle of the lounge, it will KILL your career, sister! – says Nick, grabbing her by the shoulders.

-          Are you feeling sick? – says Harry getting up.

-          I’m……

Both Nick and Harry standing in front of her, looking concerned.

-          I think she’s short circuiting or something, Harry.

-          Stop being mean, Nick. – He says, smiling at his friend. – Lori, are you alright? Do you need us to get someone to take you to the bathroom?

-          No, I’m fine. – she says finally snapping out of it. – Sorry, I was…I forgot you would be here.

-          Ah – says Harry.

-          Ah, great. Of course – Says Nick rolling his eyes and leaving.

Harry looks Lori up and down and goes back up to her eyes.

-          What happened to the black dress? – He says putting his non drink-holding-hand in his pocket.

Lori widens her eyes, feeling her skin warm up. Harry had a sarcastic smirk on his face that did not make it easier.

-          I…

-          Oh, no, no. Forget I asked that. If you’re going back to stutter… - Harry says laughing.

Lori smiles.

-          Sorry. I’m not…it’s just…a friend of mine…

-          Yeah, I figured that. – he says smiling and taking a sip of his drink. – Wanna sit?

-          Yeah, I probably should.

Harry laughs and they both sit at the sofa he was in before.

-          This is Rom, by the way. – he says, introducing the man he was talking to before.

-          Hi Roman. – She hands out her hand to shake his.

-          Hi. Lori, right?

-          Yeah.

-          Nice to meet you. I’ve heard about you.

-          Oh, have you? – she says looking at Harry.

-          Don’t flatter yourself – says Harry taking another sip of his drink. She smiles.

-          He mentioned you were coming…didn’t say you were so cute, tho. Why don’t you introduce me to your cute friends, Harry?

-          I just did. – Says Harry. – You can do better – he whispers to Lori.

-          Whoa, thanks, mate. Thank you very much.

-          You have a girlfriend.

-          Oh, yeah…sorry! – Roman says to Lori.

-          Did I do something that made you think I was interested?

-          OOH! – Says Harry leaning against Lori, looking at Roman.

-          Whoa. Cold! How’s Arendalle doing lately, my queen?

-          Pretty good. Thanks for asking. – Says Lori, smiling. – Kristoff’s wondering where you’ve been, however.

-          Am I Sven? – Roman looks at Harry – Harry, am I Sven?

-          You do like carrots a lot. – Says Harry laughing.

-          Jesus! – says Roman leaning back. – I need a drink after that.

Roman leaves to get a drink, leaving Harry alone with Lori. They talk all through the night, until Nick steals Lori to dance with him. Harry stays put, after refusing to join them dancing.

-          Sooo… - says Nick dancing. – What’s up with Harry?

-          What’s up with him? I don’t know…

-          Don’t play dumb. You’re smarter than most people I know. What’s up with you two…you’ve been talking to him all night. I’m not sure I like it… - he says squinting his eyes to her.

-          Don’t worry Nick. We’re just friends.

-          Uhum…

-          We are. We like talking to each other…

-          Uh, sexy!

-          Ah, shut up!

-          Do you have a crush or what?

-          What???

-          C’mon, everyone’s got a crush on Harry.

-          Ah, lovely. That’s exactly what a girl wants to find out…that she has to share her crush with EVERYONE.

-          Oh, so you DO have a crush?

-          Wh…no!!! I don’t. We’re friends.

-          Don’t lie to me.

-          I’m not lying, Grim.

-          Hm…well, watch out for that. It’s not very healthy having a crush on Mr. Styles. Even as lovely as he is…probably why it’s not a good idea anyway.

-          What?

-          You know…nice people…they’re like drugs. You go in, just for a taste, because they feel nice…but then getting out is impossible, because…they make you feel nice.

-          Are you comparing Harry Styles to cocaine? – she says after a second.

-          Fancy you picking cocaine. Why is that?

-          Wh…what drug were you thinking of?

-          Ecstasy.

-          Holy shit, that’s hardcore, Grim.

-          Harry Styles is hardcore, love. – He says twirling, holding her hand.

-          Oh, I’ll be sure to tell him you said that.

-          You better not, you little wanker!

Lori laughs. She dances with Nick for a while, until her feet let her know she needs a chair, so she goes back to the couch right when Rita Ora shows up and Nick turns his attention to her. She finds the couch empty and sits, looking around, trying to find a familiar face in the crowd. After a while looking, she sees Roman with a couple of drinks on his hand. He waves at her from across the lounge.

-          Where’s Harry? – she mouths to him.

He frowns trying to understand what she was saying. She repeats and he looks around, before he shrugs.

-          I think he left – he mouths back to her.

-          Oh, ok! Thanks – she mouths, giving a thumbs up to him.

He lifts his left hand and puts the other over his stomach, asking if she wanted to dance. She felt a bit bummed out about Harry leaving, but she knew she had to stay longer for Nick, so decides to enjoy the night and says yes to Roman, going up to him to dance. He was a terrible dancer, but a fun guy.

It was probably the headache that made her wake up with just the vibration of her phone next to her pillow. She opens her eyes and it felt like there was sand in them, so she blinks a couple of times before grabbing her phone to see what the notification was about. The bright light from the screen almost blinds her, so she turns the brightness down before anything else and, after recovering her vision, she looks up at the phone again to see 50 text messages. 45 of them were drunk texts from Nick, 4 were from Roman and 1 was from Harry. It read “u awake?”. She checks the time stamp and sees that he sent it 5 minutes ago, so she places her phone on her chest, both hands over it, thinking for a bit. Did she really want to reply him? At 4h20 am? Did she want Harry to know she was awake and, apparently, ready to answer his texts whatever hour he felt convenient? She decides to get up and go to the bathroom before anything else. She grunts since the light there almost blinded her too.

Back in bed, she picks up the phone, staring at Harry’s message. She decided to reply.

-          Hey – she writes.

He sends a smile after a few seconds.

-          Did I wake ya?

-          No – she lies.

-          Good. I didn’t see how late it was.

-          It’s ok. I wasn’t sleeping.

-          Sorry I left

-          What?

-          Tonight?! Sorry I left without saying bye. I ran into an old friend…

-          An old…friend?! – She asks, immediately regretting doing it so. He doesn’t reply – You don’t have to answer that, I shouldn’t intrude, sorry. – She rushes to fix her faux pas.

-          It’s ok.

Truth be told she always told herself that she didn’t like Harry that way, but the thought of him leaving the party with an “old friend” pinched her stomach harder then she thought. Which made her a bit concern about how she really felt about him.

-          You wanna do something tomorrow? – He asks.

-          Like what?

-          Dunno. Whatever you want to.

-          Hm. Late lunch and ice cream?

-          Ha. Ok, good! Pick you up?

-          Nah, we’ll meet there.

-          Ok, cool. See ya tomorrow then.

The next day, Lori is sitting at the table, under the shade, sipping her ice tea, observing people around her, when Harry walks in the restaurant’s yard. He looked very comfy. Looked around for Lori, taking his sunglasses off. She waves and he walks up to her and sits down, after giving her a kiss on the cheek.

-          How’s the hangover?

-          What? I don’t know what you’re talking about – She says, fixing the sunglasses she was wearing even though she was in the shade. Harry just smiles. – How about you? How are you feeling today?

-          Me? I’m great! – He says leaning back on the chair, putting lowering his Gucci sunglasses while he leaned his head into the sunlight.

-          Show off!

Harry laughs. He looked very comfy in his baggy clothes, but still very fashionable, as usual. They have lunch, while talking about the night before, transitioning to work and their latest projects. When they finish lunch and decide to walk up to a ice cream shop, Harry starts talking about the new music he’s been working on and Lori tries to get a little preview out of him, but he keeps his mouth shut about it.

-          It’s not like I’m going to tell anyone about it…

-          I know that.

-          Ok, you don’t want to show me, that’s fine, as long as you promise you’ll write something about me.

Harry laughs.

-          Yeah. I don’t care what’s about. It can be like “that annoying girl that keeps texting me stupid things and doesn’t leave me alone”…but it has to be about me.

-          I can bitch about ya?

-          Yeah, as long as I know it’s me you’re bitching about. I just want a Harry Styles song.

-          Ha! – he says while holding the door open for Lori to enter the ice cream shop. – What is this place?

-          It’s my favorite place in London. They’re an Italian “gelateria” that makes these artisanal fresh gelatos. SO good. I’m obsessed with their Mascarpone and Figs gelato.

-          Sounds good.

They get their order and leave again, eating whilst walking through the streets of Notting Hill, which makes Lori pretend to be Hugh Grant, getting a laugh out of Harry. Harry gives Lori his neck scarf to tie up her hair, since the hot sun kept making her hold her hair up, and they sit to rest in front of Kensington Palace. Since the place had a rather high tourist circulation, some people would stop to ask Harry for pictures, which he didn’t mind at all, up until people started to gather around him. So he nudged Lori on the back and advised them to leave. He took the last pictures with some fans that were still waiting for him and politely thanked everyone before leaving towards Lori’s direction.

-          You’re so nice. – She says as they walk away from the crowd.

-          Thanks?! – He says with a timid smile.

-          Sure, but I mean it. Not everyone would be as patient as you are. No wonder everyone loves you so much.

Harry smiles.

-          Well you don’t need the money with a face like that, do ya honey? – she says with a big smile.

-          What? – he says with a confused frown.

She repeats the line with the Jets song melody this time.

-          Ah! Are you saying you want me to be your girl? – He says, smiling.

-          A few years ago that song could be about you.

-          What? – He says laughing.

-          Yeah. The chorus says “big black boots, long brown hair, she’s so sweet with her get-back stare”…that’s you in 2015.

Harry belts out a laugh.

-          Oh, really?

-          Yeah…”oh I could see, you home with me, but you are with another man, yeah”…you did a photoshoot for Another Man, didn’t ya?

Harry thinks for a second about Lori’s theory.

-          You know what…you’re right. That might be about me.

Lori smiles in triumph.

-          At least that’s what I’ll be saying from now on – He says, smiling. – You want to grab dinner? – He continues after a few seconds.

-          Sure. You don’t have dinner plans?

-          I do. But I can cancel them.

-          You don’t have to…

-          Nah, it’s ok. – he says while texting. – What you want for dinner?

-          I don’t know?

-          Let’s grab something and go home watch a movie…or do you rather actually going to the cinema? – he says raising his eyes up to look at Lori.

-          You go to cinemas?

-          Yes?! – he answers laughing.

-          Hm…as much as I’d love to go home and watch something in the comfort of my sofa…I’d actually like to go to the cinema. It’s been a while.

-          Ok, let’s find something to watch then. – he says stretching his arm so Lori and wrap hers around it.

They finally decide on a film and find a near cinema to go to. They wait after the session starts to enter, after the room is already dark. The cinema wasn’t packed, so at the last row, where they sit, they were the only ones. Lori fixes the popcorn they were sharing on her lap while Harry sits at the very end of the chair, stretching his legs on the back of the chair in front of him. The movie starts and, instead of watching it, Harry and Lori spend the entire time analyzing the few people at the room. Guessing which ones were couples on dates, which ones were friends, which ones were alone; and then making up dialogues every time they saw two people talking. They burst into laughter when they were making up a dialogue for two people that seemed like they were having a heated argument, which inspired their dialogue, and out of the sudden they started making out. For a split second, Harry and Lori were silently surprised by the sudden flame between the couple, before laughing quietly. Two thirds into the movie, Harry decided to look up at the big screen for the first time, while stuffing his mouth with popcorn.

-          What is this movie about anyway? – He asks.

-          It’s…uhm…

Lori takes her phone out and google the title of the movie.

-          It’s the story about a musician that moves to New York in search of his dream of Broadway and ends up involved in a murder during the play…it’s set in the 30’s.

-          That sounds interesting – he says after couple of seconds.

-          Makes sense, since we picked this movie to watch…

-          We should have watched it…d’you think we’ll understand anything if we start watching now?

-          I don’t know…

Fifteen minutes in, Lori looks at Harry, almost sleeping.

-          I’m guessing that’s a no?

-          What?

-          Do you understand what’s going on?

-          Ah, no, sorry…I was day dreaming…

Lori laughs. They start assuming what’s going on, making up the whole plot of the movie, based on the synopsis Lori read before. The movie, that in the real plot ends with a twist and a romantic ending for the lead, in their version ends with a ridiculous Monty Python “tragedy”, that makes them giggle all through the end credits. Every time someone would pass by them, with an inquisitive look, Harry would hide behind Lori, since they couldn’t stop laughing like idiots. After everyone leaves, they finally do the same. After grabbing a quick dinner, Harry takes her home.

-          You want some tea? – she asks, while unlocking her door.

-          No, thanks. I have an early meeting...

-          Uh, business man.

-          Nah, it’s just to check some samples…

Lori widens her eyes, looking at Harry. He laughs.

-          You wanna come?

-          Really?

-          Yeah, sure. I’d like your opinion.

-          You said you don’t like outside people listening to your stuff before it’s done.

-          I’ll make an exception. Besides, you being there might work nice as inspiration for that song about an annoying girl.

-          Whatever works for ya, honey!

Harry smiles.

-          You’ll come? – he asks.

-          I have to work tomorrow morning, but I’ll try to swing by before I clock in.

-          Ok, I’ll text ya the address.

-          Ok.

Harry gives Lori a kiss and walks back to his car.

-          Today was fun – he says before getting into his car, leaving Lori with a big smile on her face.

She walks inside her apartment feeling giddy. A big fluffy ragdoll cat jumps on the sofa next to her, meowing.

-          Today was, indeed, a fun day, Mush! – she says to the cat.

Her phone chirps inside her purse, so she drops Mushroom to get to her phone. She checks her message.

-          “I know who I was when I got up this morning, but I think I must have been changed several times since then”- H – Harry texted – Almost forgot it was my turn.

-          It’s not – she texts back

-          What?

-          You sent one yesterday, but since you’re in a serious red ledger, I’ll add that up to your debt – She texts with a wink. He replies with the same emoticon.

The next few days, Lori and Harry met up a few more times, until the day before he had to travel outside of the UK again, when he invited her to a party he was going to.

“I’ve spent so much time in my mind and in my heart that I forgot to live in my body” – L. Harry answered the note with a picture of a crumbled piece of paper.

-          Why are you texting me garbage? – She writes.

-          Your post-it – He answers.

-          What??

-          The disappearing note that you left me the day you slept here.

-          OMG! I TOLD YA!!!! Where was it?

-          Under my fridge.

-          Shit!

-          Innit? See ya tonight?

-          Yep

That night, Lori dresses up and is quite happy with how she looks, checking herself in the mirror before leaving for the party. A feeling reaffirmed by Harry’s look, when she walks up to him at the club.

-          Look at ya.

She twirls before giving him a hug.

-          You look great.

-          Thanks!

-          This is Jeff – he says pointing to the man next to him.

-          Hey!

-          Hi, nice to meet ya, finally. – Says Jeff.

-          Yeah, likewise. I heard a lot about you – she says, shaking Jeff’s hand. – Feels like every story Harry ever tells, you’re in it.

-          Lately, likewise. – Says Jeff smiling.

-          Ok, stop it you two. – Says Harry splitting them up. – Join me? – He asks lifting his glass.

-          Who? – Jeff and Lori answer in unison.

Harry smiles.

-          Both? – He asks.

A few drinks in and after Harry gets slightly drunk, he drags his friends to the dance floor. They dance the night away and, by the time the music changes to 80’s pop, Harry and Jeff are already wasted, while Lori maintains a safe level of sobriety as a promise to Jeff, to keep an eye on both of them. Harry leaves to take a wee and Lori keeps dancing with Jeff, holding Harry’s coat like a matador cape.

After what felt like too long, Lori tells Jeff to check up on Harry, since there was no way he’d be taking that long to take a wee. He agrees and leaves Lori at the bar, before going after his friend. She puts Harry’s coat and orders a club soda. After she gets her glass, she sits facing the dance floor and begins to watch people dance, while playing with the straw in her drink. She almost chokes on her cherry as she sees Harry across the other side of the dance floor, talking to a blonde girl. She was clearly flirting with him, playing with her hair and occasionally touching Harry’s shirt. Lori stares at that scene, not sure how it made her feel, but with a dead cold expression. He seemed to enjoy the attention, since even from far away Lori could tell the girl was very attractive. She was tall, had a beautiful smile, and the short skirt made her legs look even longer. No doubt a model, Lori thought. She saw Jeff sneaking up to Harry, what brought a faint smile to her lips. Harry turns to Jeff and whispers something to him, he nods and leaves him to turn his attention back to the blonde girl. Lori frowns at that. A few minutes later Jeff finds her again.

-          Hey! – He says, grabbing his drink.

-          Hi again…did you find him? – She lied.

-          Yeah.

-          Did he drown in the toilet?

Jeff smiles.

-          No, he ran into a friend on the way back.

-          Ah, popular boy. – She pretends to be unbothered by that.

-          Yeah, that’s how it usually goes.

-          I know, I remember. – She says in an introspective tone.

-          Oh?

-          Hm? Ah, nothing…that happened last time we went out. So I feel your frustration.

Jeff smiles.

-          It’s not frustration, he has a lot of friends…as long as he’s happy.

-          You’re a good friend, Jeff.

-          I’d like to think I am, yeah. – He laughs. – How about you? Does it bother you when he elopes?

-          Me? No. I’m on the same page you are. As long as he’s happy. Harry is probably one of my best friends by now, so I share the feeling. – She says high fiving Jeff.

She knew she was lying to him and to herself. It did bother her. She wasn’t sure why. She didn’t like him that way. She knew she was jealous, but she’s always been jealous of her friends and maybe that’s what she was feeling. She ponders about it and maybe it bothered her that it was Harry’s last night in the country and she thought she’d be able to have the whole night with him and now he was 100% focused on another girl. She looks at Jeff texting and sipping his drink and looks back at Harry. After staring at him flirting back with the girl for a few minutes, she decided to turn backwards to face the bar. That scene made something boil up inside her, a mix of anger and sadness, and it also felt wrong to intrude in Harry’s business like that. That many emotions overwhelmed her, so she decides to have a Mascal instead of her club soda. Jeff just peeks over his phone as she turns the shot glass in a split second. She puts the glass down and Jeff puts his in front of her without saying a word. She looks at it and looks at Jeff, eyes fixed on his phone.

-          I’m good – She smiles at him.

-          You sure?

-          Yeah…

Jeff taps her on the shoulder, which, somehow, comforts her a lot. She turns to talk to him instead of worrying about Harry. After an hour or so, Jeff announces he has to go, so he tries to find Harry in the party. Lori remains at the bar, sipping a drink, until Jeff returns.

-          Couldn’t find him…

Lori looks over her shoulder at Jeff, before he leans against the bar, scanning the dance floor another time.

-          He might have left…you want a ride home?

-          Thanks. – She says smiling, before looking around the room – I think I saw someone I know earlier. I might try to find him…

-          Are you sure?

-          Yeah. Thanks Jeffie!

He smiles, gives her a kiss and leaves the party. Lori gets up and starts walking around the club.

-          Thought I saw ya… - She says with a smile.

-          Mamacita!!!! – Says Jorge, clearly a few drinks too many, raising both arms up, spilling a bit of his drink on everyone around him.

-          Hey Papi! – She says laughing, pulling his arms down – Put your arms down, man. You’re showering everyone…

-          How you doing, mama? Que buena estás, mi preciosa!

-          Are you flirting?

-          Por qué? Te gusta?

-          No, checking your alcohol levels…

-          Want a drink? Matty!!! – He screams out of the sudden.

A blonde, lean guy comes up to them from within the crowd.

-          Look at that tall drink!!! – Says Jorge wrapping his arm around Matt.

-          Juice guy!! – Says Lori, smiling.

-          Smoothie!!!!

-          Hi! – Says Matt with a big, seemingly sober, smile.

-          Nice to see you outside the “SmoothU” uniform.

-          You too, without the gym clothes.

-          Not half bad, right?

Matt smiles.

-          Matty’s an Aussie! – Says Jorge putting his arm around Matt’s neck.

-          I know Jorge. I’ve been “Smoothed” by him before.

-          Que??? – Says Jorge without understanding the pun.

-          I’ve been…...we go to the same gym he works at, remember. We talked before.

-          Oh…no sabia…

-          Yes you did know.

-          He’s very drunk – Says Matt.

-          Figures… - Agrees Lori, laughing.

Jorge and Matt were one of those couples you kind of feel jealous of, they were both incredibly handsome. Matt was very tall, blonde, lean and fit. He had grayish eyes and a nice friendly smile, surrounded by a great gingerish scruff. Jorge, however, was very strong – with a bit of belly he named his fanny (pack) – short, caramel skin, dark hair, hazel eyes and a heartthrob smile, defined as such by himself, which Lori did not disagree with. He was clearly in love with Matt, or the vodka made him believe so, and Lori knew Matt had a crush on him for a long time, so seeing them finally together made her very happy. She was thinking about how lucky they were then she felt a nudge on her shoulder. She turns around and is surprised by the sight of a very drunk Harry.

-          Hey baby! – He says looking around.

-          Harry??? I thought you left…

-          Have you seen Jeff? – He slurred out, with heavy eyelids.

-          No, he already left, honey. – She says giving him her hands, since his were browsing the air around her, looking for something to hold. – Are you ok?

-          Me? Yeah, I’m…oh…there’s my jacket!!! – He slurs out, grabbing the sleeve of his coat while holding her hand.

-          Yeah, you gave me to hold when you went to the loo…

-          Oh, did I? – He says frowning.

-          Yes – Says Lori containing her laugh. – Are you sure you’re ok, Har?

-          I’m great. Slightly drunk, yea?

-          Slightly?

-          Ok, a lot! I’m wasted, that’s it, innit?

Lori was sure the only thing keeping him from swaying around was the tight grip he had on her arms.

-          You disappeared, so Jeff left… - She says, getting closer to him, so he could put his arm around her shoulders, giving him more support.

-          Fucking wanker! – He says in the most Cheshire accent Lori’s ever heard.

-          That’s not fair. You did disappear. He tried texting ya…

-          Still a wanker. Should’ve waited for me, yea? Like you did. Aw. You did! – He says suddenly wrapping his other arm around her and throwing himself over her. – You’re a good friend! – he leans back, resting his right elbow on her shoulder while pointing at her with his right hand – You…y-you are not a wanker.

-          Good to know – Says Lori giving him a smile.

-          I love ya, bub! – He says going back in to hug her.

-          Ok Harry. I love you too, puppy!

-          Ha! Puppy! – He says without releasing himself from the hug, through hiccups.

She rubs his back and he leans back again.

-          Can I ask you a favor? If it’s not…if it’s not impos…what are you laughing at? – He says frowning at Lori’s expression.

-          I’m not! – She says biting her lip to avoid it.

He grabs her chin and pulls, down, making her release her bottom lip and letting out a slight puff of air.

-          Yeah y’are! Is this funny to ya? – He says with the most fake offended expression ever.

-          Not at all, Mr. Styles – She says smiling.

-          I’m drunk! I’m fucked up drunk and y’re laughing? At my face? Just like that? – he says one hand firmly grabbing her elbow, the other resting on his waist.

-          Maybe I am a wanker! – She says shrugging.

-          Nooo. No, no…y’re not! – He goes back into the hug.

-          Jesus Christ… - Lori lets out, laughing.

-          Ok, I’m s-I’m sorry. I’m annoying ya…I’ll… - He says letting go from her and turning around.

-          No!!! Harry get back here. – She says grabbing his waist.

-          Oh! Oh…careful there… - he grabs her hands and turns around to face her again – Careful with those handsies…

Lori laughs.

-          What do you want, Har?

-          What happened to puppy? I liked puppy.

-          Ok – says Lori shaking her head – What do you need, puppy?

-          I don’t know. What do I need? – He says with very innocent eyes, honestly not knowing what she was talking about.

-          I…I don’t know Harry, you said you needed to ask me a favor…

-          I did?

-          Yeah

-          Oh…ehm… - He says with one hand on his chin, trying to remember, the other back on her shoulder, gripping her tight. – OH! I need a ride.

-          What?

-          I need a ride home…you see…I have to be…careful…

He stops mid sentence, index finger in front of his own face, squinting his eyes, while Lori waits for him to finish. Which he doesn’t.

-          I think I’m fucked up. – He says in a defeated tone.

-          Oh, honey. You most definitely are. – Says Lori, grabbing both his shoulders.

-          Can you take me home, please?

-          Of course, pup! I just have to say goodbye to a friend.

-          Who? Me?

Lori stares at Harry, considering if he actually asked her that or if he was joking.

-          N...no. Another friend…

-          You have other friends? – He asks, shocked.

-          I do.

-          But you like me better, yea?

-          Unfortunately that’s also true.

He gives her a big drunk smile. She turns around to look for Jorge and sees him sitting at a sofa with Matt. She walks up to him, with Harry clenched on her arm.

-          Papi, I have to go.

-          Whaaat? Por qué? We didn’t even get you drunk yet…

-          Oh, I’m good. Trust me – Says Lori. She could feel Harry very close behind her, nudging his nose on her shoulder.

Jorge sees Harry behind her and jumps up in a surprising speed. He stays put for a few seconds, clearly waiting for the blood to go back up to his head, and leans in.

-          Quién es este?

-          Ehm…Edward… - She attempts, since Jorge didn’t seem to recognize Harry.

-          Ooooooh…que bandida!! “Solo amigos”, hm?

Surprisingly good memory for someone that drunk, Lori thinks.

-          Ok, I need to take him home.

-          I bet you do! – Says Jorge pouting his lips.

-          You’re very handsome – Suddenly says Harry behind Lori’s shoulder.

-          Gracias, cariño. Oh I like him!!

Lori smiles, rolling her eyes, and waves goodbye at Jorge.

-          Give Matty a kiss for me.

-          I’ll give him more than that, mama!

Lori drags Harry out with her, diverting the crowd, until they finally reach the street and the cold London air. Very fresh air, compared to the stuffed environment they were just in. It makes Lori give a long deep breath, before looking around for a cab. Harry was still attached like a sloth to her arm, when she signals a car. The cab drives up to them, Lori opens the door and helps Harry get in. It crosses her mind how glad she was about how late into the night they were, making the street very deserted, with the exception of the security guard at the club door and a few people going home. It wouldn’t be nice for Harry to be seen this drunk, she knew he’d regret it in the morning.

After Harry is nicely buckled in, Lori lands a kiss on his cheek.

-          Please be…

She stops mid sentence, looking at Harry leaning his head against the door, almost sleeping.

-          …ugh – She says getting in the cab as well.

They drive up to his house, Harry sleeping on her shoulder the whole ride. When they finally arrive, she wakes him up and helps him get up to his house, as the cab waits for her. Harry takes a few minutes looking for his keys and fails at attempting to fit the key into the keyhole, before giving up and allowing Lori to open the door. They both walk in, Harry throws himself on his stomach on the couch, while Lori puts his keys on the table.

-          Are you ok, Harry?

-          Yhmnh… - he mumbles through the pillows.

-          Harry… - She says crouching next to him, with her hand on his shoulder. – Honey, are you ok? Can I go home and trust you to rehydrate?

-          No – He says turning his head to face her.

-          No??

-          No. Can you stay?

Lori looks at him staring at her with his half closed eyes.

-          Please?

-          Yeah, ok. I’ll just pay the cab, hang on.

She gets up and walks back to the cab, thanking him and paying for the drive. She goes back inside the house, locks up and finds Harry sleeping on the couch. She considers leaving him to sleep there, but his weird disposition on it could only end with him in pain tomorrow. So she gently taps him on the shoulder and helps him up to his bedroom. He sits on his bed and throws himself back. So Lori leans down to take his shoes off for him. She only hears him attempting to say “thank you” from the bed. She turns around to put his shoes by the closet and when she turns back he’s pulling his pants down with a lot of effort.

-          My god, how drunk are you?! – She whispers to herself.

She helps him finish undressing and tucks him in. Then she goes to the kitchen and grabs a bottle of water, goes back to his room and places it on the nightstand, next to him. She sits at the edge of the bed, looking at him sleeping and smiles. Even drunk he had a very childlike quality to him. Before she gets up, his hand searches for hers and, once it finds it, he leans in and lays his head on her lap, making her hold her breath. She stays perfectly still for a few seconds, not knowing what to do. So she decides to stay there for a little bit, as he held her hand tight, with his head resting on her thighs.

She didn’t even know how long she was sitting there, looking at Harry sleeping like a child on her lap, before she decides to carefully slip away from under him and trying her best to put him back on his pillow without waking him up. She manages do to so, and gets up, realizing his hand is still tightly gripped around hers. She looks at it for a few seconds, before trying to untangle his fingers from hers, slowly. She’s halfway through when he grabs her hand firmly again, making her raise her eyes to him.

-          Thanks – He mumbles softly, without opening his eyes.

-          What? – She whispers.

-          Thanks for being here… - He says, still eyes closed, with a hoarse deep voice.

-          No problem, puppy. – She smiles, gently rubbing his hand with her other hand.

He smiles, letting go of her hand. She gets up and goes to the guest room. The minute she walks through the door, she realizes she was right the last time she was there, when she thought his bedroom must’ve been much bigger than this one, since now it felt very small, compared to the one she just left. Even knowing that, back then she considered this one to be gigantic.

She wakes up with a gentle tap on her shoulder. It takes a moment before she finally can gather her strength to open her eyes and look up. She sees a very scruffed Harry, clearly hangover, sitting next to her, with a cup of coffee on his hand.

-          Hey angel. – He says, giving her a tired smile.

-          Hi – She attempts to say, even though barely any sound comes out.

-          Don’t worry about waking up, you can go back to sleep…I just wanted to let you know I’m leaving already, but I left breakfast for ya in the kitchen.

-          Ok – She says before realizing what he just said – Wait…what?

-          I have a plane to catch, so…

-          Oh, ok, gimme a second to… - She interrupts him, trying to get up. Harry pushes her back down.

-          Stay. Go back to sleep. It’s Sunday, just stay in.

-          Wh…it’s your house, Harry.

-          Don’t worry. I’ll leave ya the key, so you can lock up after you leave.

She looks up at him, frowning, trying to understand what’s happening.

-          You can stay here and rest, and when I come back we can meet up so you can give me the key back. Maybe you can pick me up at the airport – He says smiling.

-          I don’t…

-          That wasn’t a question. I was just letting ya know how it’s gonna be.

Lori doesn’t necessarily agrees with it, but she’s too tired to fight what seemed to be a very certain Harry. He’s made that decision and it was clear that it would take a lot of effort to convince him otherwise. An effort that Lori knew she didn’t have in herself at that moment.

-          I’ll leave the key at the coffee table downstairs, ok?

Lori nods.

-          Ok. I’ll see ya when I come back

She nods again, half asleep. Harry leans in, gives her a kiss on her forehead and leaves the room.

After waking up and taking a shower, Lori borrows one of Harry’s shirt, after texting him for permission, so she could go straight to work. Downstairs, as promised, she finds a full breakfast neatly placed on the center island counter in the kitchen. At the center of the counter, there was a vase of flowers with a note attached to it. She takes it to read. “’When the heart speaks, the mind finds it indecent to object – H.’ Thanks for being so great last night, angel. I know I was a fucking mess. I’m very happy to have you as a friend I know I can count on. Count on me for anything! Love, H.” She smiles at the note and folds it carefully. Holding it in her hand, looking at the flowers, Lori takes a deep breath. She did have a crush on him. A big one. And it didn’t even cross her mind that there was a chance of him feeling the same way. After all he said he was glad to have her as “a friend” in the note. She places the note in her back pocket and she bags everything to eat at work. She washes the dishes and cleans the kitchen before leaving and locking up as promised.  The next few weeks, their conversations weren’t as regular as it used to be, since Harry was busy working on his new album a lot and Lori was running around the UK to cover a bunch of events for BBC, which helped Lori with her crush. It was becoming a usual thing for him to disappear for short periods of time and when Grimmy shared his theory that this time around their mutual friend disappeared because he was seeing someone, Lori felt like she finally got over him. Maybe it was not hearing from him in two weeks, maybe it wasn’t a crush after all, but the idea of Harry with someone else didn’t bothered her. Or so she thought.

It was at a Vanity Fair event in Los Angeles that she saw Harry again, creeping up to her, with a huge smile across his face. He looked completely different since last time they saw each other. His hair was very short; he had a clean shave and was much leaner than she remembered. He was wearing a salmon shirt, few buttons open, revealing his cross necklace. A black suit was over it with a flower printed silk tissue on his pocket. He looked sharp. He wraps his arms around her in a tight grip, just as you’d expect great friends to do after a long time without seeing each other.

-          Hey angel! – he says, taking a step back after a long hug.

-          Hi Har! How are you, love?

-          I’m great. Especially now, I’m so happy to see ya. – He says, grabbing her hand and pressing it against his chest.

-          Me too. It feels like forever…

-          I know!!! We barely spoke in the last few months…

-          Yeah, what’s up with that?

-          I know. It’s my fault, innit? I’ve been really busy…

-          How’s the album coming up?

-          Pretty good, we’re almost done now. I can’t wait for you to hear it…there’s some really awesome songs, I’m really proud of it.

-          That’s great Harry…

She smiles, looking at him browsing the crowd around them, still holding her hand up against his chest.

-          What you’ve been up to? – He says turning his attention back at her.

-          Working like a maniac. I’m convinced that network is trying to kill me.

-          About that… - he says getting a bit closer to her, looking down at her hands.

-          Yeah?

He holds her hand between both of his, before raising his eyes up to hers.

-          I was wondering…if maybe you could take a few days off…

-          Hum?

-          And take some pictures for me.

-          Oh? Of what? – She asked, surprised.

-          Of me.

She stares at him without reaction for a couple of seconds.

-          What?

-          For my album. I’d like it if you could help me with the art…

-          Oh!!! Really???

-          Yeah, I mean…I love your personal work, it’s very organic and beautiful. I wanted to do something like that for the cover and the rest of the album.

-          Really Harry? – She says with a bit of an emotional tone to her voice.

-          Absolutely.

-          I’d be honored. What’d you have in mind? – She says trying to wipe her teary eyes without him noticing.

-          I’m not sure yet. I thought we could brainstorm some ideas, try some stuff out…that’s why I need ya for a few days. I want to create something cool with ya…

Lori smiles, trying her best not to tear up. Harry was an outstanding artist and for him to want to trust her with something as personal as his album made her very happy. And the fact that he seemed so excited about it made it even more special. She knew how important he was to her, but the other way around she could only take a wild guess; however, this meant something for him, she meant something to him. They stay the rest of the event together, talking about the past few months, catching up, even though it didn’t take 5 minutes for them to feel like they were never kept apart by their jobs. Before they leave, they make plans to meet up to talk about their upcoming new project together.

They were talking, drinking ice tea, at the sofa at Harry’s living room, when Lori hands him a bag from Gucci.

-          Oh, did you get me something? – He says putting the glass down to take the bag.

-          Yeah, I’m 100% sure you’ll like it.

-          Confident, eh? – He says reaching in to grab the content out.

He pulls out a pink shirt with white dots and looks at it before frowning a bit.

-          I think I have a similar one…

-          Yeah, you do. But it’s not similar, it’s exactly like that.

-          Ehm…ok, that’s a good method to make sure I’ll like it…

Lori laughs.

-          It’s yours. It’s the shirt I borrowed. Your key is also there.

-          Ahhh, ok. – He says peeking into the bag and putting the shirt back in. – Nice choice, by the way…

-          It’s pink with polka dots, how could I go wrong with that one?!

-          True.

-          It’s washed and ironed, already.

-          Ok, c’mon… - He says getting up, taking the bag with him – Come with me.

-          Okey-dokey.

They walk up to his bedroom and into his closet, where he grabs a hanger to put his shirt in. Harry turns around to find Lori jaw-dropped, frozen at the entrance of the walk-in closet.

-          Did you have a stroke? – he asks, laughing.

-          I think I died and went to heaven.

Harry laughs.

-          Look at your closet, my god!! Look at all your clothes…

-          I’m even afraid to touch anything…

Harry laughs.

-          Can I snoop?

-          Yeah, sure, go ahead. – He says putting the hanger back in the rack.

She goes through his shirts folded neatly on the shelves as Harry sits on the bench in the middle of the closet.

-          Uh, I like this one… - she says running her hand on a mustard jumper. – What’s this fabric? It’s so soft…

-          Dunno… - He says getting up and grabbing the jumper, to check the tag.

-          Wait…where are your suits? – She says looking around.

She looks around realizing there were no suits of formal wear on the racks around them. Harry gets up, goes to a slide door next to the shelves they were going through, and opens it. Lori walks toward and peeks in the “secret” room in his closet. All of his formal wear was there, everything from suits, formal shirts, shoes and slim drawers with his jewelry, watches and sunglasses.

-          Holy Gucci!

Harry laughs, refolding the jumper. Lori moans running her hand at all the suits neatly hanged at the rack, while Harry leans against the wall, folding his arms over the jumper. Lori takes out of the rack one of the suits. It was black, with a very thin dark red sparkly line all around the trim. The lining was a bright red flower print. She looks at Harry, who was smugly smiling at her, which leads to the wise decision they make to have a fashion show. Harry ends up trying on a bunch of his own suits and walking through the closet making faces and posing, while Lori pretends to be stylists at the audience. After he tried every suit he owned, they end up sitting on the floor of the closet, going through his jewelry. He tries one of Lori’s rings on his pinky.

-          Oh. Fits… - He says.

-          I’ve had that one for…15 years I think.

-          Shit. I was planning on stealing it…

-          Were you now? – She says, laughing – It’s ok, you can keep it.

-          What? No, I was joking.

-          Keep it. I like the idea of you prancing around with my ring.

-          I like that in your head I’m always prancing. – Says Harry laughing.

-          Yep. In my imagination you don’t even know how to walk. You’re either running or Jaggering.

-          Jaggering? – Says Harry through a laugh.

Lori get up mimicking Mick Jagger’s moves. Harry laughs.

-          That’s how I walk?

-          Yes. Or at least you should…it should be your runway walk.

-          I’ll remember that if I ever do a fashion show.

-          Like you would ever do that.

-          Of course I would. I’ll be getting a call from Victoria’s Secret any minute now…

Lori laughs.

-          Oh, I have something for ya. – he says getting up and running to his bedroom.

Lori gets up and follows him.

He grabs out of the drawer in his nightstand a tiny black notepad and gives it to her. She takes it, a bit confused, and opens it. There was a bunch of scribbles with Harry’s handwriting in it. At least 5 pages of it, with the occasional doodles around the edges of the pages.

-          Don’t mind the drawings, I tend to doodle when I’m bored…

-          Ok… - she says smiling and going through the notepad.

“Beware; for I am fearless, and therefore powerful”, “For myself I am too heavy, and for you too light”, “I wish photographs were physical spaces, like tunnels; that you could crawl inside them and go back”, “And remember this, that if you’ve been hated, you’ve also been loved”, “We cross our bridges when we come to them and burn them behind us, with nothing to show for our progress except a memory of the smell of smoke, and a presumption that once our eyes watered”, “Love isn’t a state of perfect caring. It is an active noun like struggle. To love someone is to strive to accept that person exactly the way he or she is, right here and now”, “She had wild eyes, slightly insane. She also carried an overload of compassion that was real enough and which obviously cost her something”, “Our lives are defined by opportunities, even the ones we miss”, “What do you say when the feelings don’t fit into words?”. That was just a few of the dozens of notes Harry had written on the notepad. Lori takes a deep breath before looking up at Harry.

-          I didn’t forget, I just didn’t have time to send them…so I just wrote it down every time I remember one or saw a quote I liked, so I could send it to ya later. But it took me so long to do so that I decided it was easier making this for ya.

-          This is so sweet.

-          I agree. My girlfriend was a bit jealous of it to be frank, but…

Lori feels a familiar punch in the stomach, as she looks up at Harry.

-          Your what? – She can’t help but ask him

-          Ah, yeah…well…I’ve been seeing someone…I’m not sure if I can call her girlfriend yet…but yeah…

-          Oh… - She says without hiding the disappointed tone in her voice.

-          What? – He says, noticing the tone.

-          N-nothing…I just…why didn’t you tell me? – She lied.

-          We didn’t talk that much…and to be honest I didn’t know if that was the kind of thing I could talk to ya about…

-          You can talk about anything with me, Harry.

-          Oh…yeah? – He says putting both hands in his pockets.

-          Yeah…of course… - She says pondering for a bit, looking down at the notepad.

-          That’s good to know…

-          I can understand why she’d be jealous tho…this is very personal…

-          Well you were my friend before we started going out, so…and one thing has nothing to do with the other…I can be personal with my friends.

Lori looks up at him again.

-          I mean…right?

-          Yeah, sure. So… - She says closing the notepad. She looks at it for a second before looking back at Harry – How is she like? What does she look like? Tell me everything.

Harry laughs.

-          Nah, I’m good...you’ll end up meeting her…if I think she’s worth it.

Lori smiles.

-          Not everyone deserves being introduced to my friends, you know.

-          You introduced me to Jeff… - She says without thinking, regretting immediately.

-          Yeah but we weren’t seeing each other…I introduced one friend to another…

-          Oh, right, ok. – She says quickly, glad he didn’t catch her faux pas.

The rest of the night, all through dinner, Lori felt a crushing pressure in her stomach, like she had eaten a pound of cement. She struggled to stay as normal as she could with Harry, but when he invited her to stay for a movie, she made up an excuse and left, going back to her hotel. Lying in bed, wrapped in the towel and hair still wet from the shower, she stared at the painting at the wall, above the bed, for a long time. She did not see this coming. She was certain she was over him, but the punch in her stomach finding out he was with someone, serious enough for him to call her girlfriend, told her otherwise. Not only she had a crush on him, she loved him. Realizing that made her eyes water and, as she takes a deep breath, they start to roll down the side of her face, surrounding her ears and finally finding the linen sheets under her. Harry was the best friend she’s had in so long, how could she let this happen? How could she allow herself to feel that way about him? Most importantly, how didn’t she realize that this was happening? She falls asleep with these questions burning in her head.

[the-sultan-of-strange]

So! Tonight I had the most intensely terrifying night of probably my entire life. :)

Because, see, today is the first day of the spring semester so I went to bed completely pent up and unable to sleep. I kept tossing and turning around in bed for hours, trying my hardest to fall asleep but unable to because my mind was too noisy.

So at one point, about two hours before I have to wake up, I decide "fuck it" and reach for my phone to dick around on Tumblr until I have to wake up. And I'm already feeling awful about not sleeping any tonight because I really need my sleep and I always start feeling like I failed at life if I miss a night of sleep, but then it starts becoming more and more evident that something is off.

First off, total fucking silence, no trains in the distance, no barking dogs, nothing, only my breathing, the shuffling of the bedsheets and the occasional voices coming from my phone that I definitely did not tell it to produce. The voices are female, and sound like they're quietly speaking in a choir, in a drawn-out chanty way.

At this point I'm still in denial, so I just quietly wait and pray until they go away and I hope it was just a video I forgot to mute.

Also, I'm having this clawing feeling in the back of my head that I'm completely alone.

See, I live with my mom, stepdad and my maternal grandparents in the house, it's dead middle of the darkest night I've ever experienced, and there I am absolutely convinced that there's nobody else in the house than me, the darkness and the voices from my phone. And my brain comes to the conclusion that since they obviously wouldn't just go out in the middle of a dark winter night, that leaves that either something quietly took them or they never existed in the first place.

This of course prompts more denial so I dive right back into Tumblr, more voices, more waiting for it to be over, more scrolling further and further in a dashboard that becomes increasingly repetitive as it goes on, with the same ominous phrase popping up in the captions under seemingly unrelated posts. Sometimes in text, sometimes said by the voices. I don't remember what  the phrase was, but it disturbed me to a point where I was ready to start screaming at nothing out of sheer anxiety.

At this point almost my entire dash is composed of nothing but one post repeating ad infinitum. It's an image that looks like it was taken with a forest trail cam at night. It's a group of women or girls, wearing short-sleeved nurse scrubs and surgical masks. Their hair is done up in identical hairdos, kind of like bobcuts but slicked back and stretching out to the back. I don't remember their faces. I'm not sure they had faces.

Each iteration of the post is this one single photo, captioned with the phrase. Sometimes there are voices, sometimes there aren't. Occasionally I come across a post that isn't this one post, so I keep scrolling in hopes that I find more normal posts. I do, but there's always more of the one post. The more I scroll the worse it becomes. At one point I put on my headphones and try to listen to some music, but it's drowned out by some sort of garbled noise that feels like the worst thing I have ever heard.

Eventually it gets so bad I'm reduced to just lying on the bed and staring into the darkness while my phone talks in voices (somehow my eyes couldn't get used to the darkness like usually, it was all pitch black aside from the part of my bed lit up by the phone screen). I feel like I'm inches away from snapping and starting to scream.

Then the voices slowly die down, and then a few seconds or minutes later (I'm not even sure anymore) I'm scared to death by an extremely loud male voice going "HEY DUDE" from the phone.

I pick up the phone and look at the screen. It's a Hangouts video chat, somehow, even though it didn't ring, it just kinda started on its own. The voice is one of my internet friends’ (let’s call him M), which is odd since I have never heard his voice but I immediately recognize it as his voice. The face is also M's, which is even odder since I have seen his face and that's definitely not his face. These are all things I realized later since at that moment I was so overjoyed at having someone talk to that I didn't think about 1. how did this person start talking to me without ringing my phone, 2. how is he M when he looks nothing like him and 3. how did I recognize a voice I've never heard before.

Thinking about it later, the only similarity between M's face and the one on my screen was that both are black. M is a black guy, and so is the man staring at me from my phone screen. But looking at his image for a little bit, I noticed that his skin wasn’t right. It was way too shiny. Like, oil slick shiny. Sure, he had the facial structure of a black person, but his skin looked like someone methodically smeared an even layer of tar over it to make it look black. It was like his face was real, but his skin was not.

By the time I assessed his face from closer up, I have processed that the person I’m talking to is not, in fact, my internet friend M. And at this point it clicks in me that this is not all random. There’s a system to it. There’s a logic to it. The image of the weird nurses, the female choir of voices, the anxiety-inducing unknown sentence, and not-M cheerfully saying hello to me with his tar-textured false face. There is some sort of logic holding these things together, though I cannot for the life of me figure out what kind of logic.

And I get the vague conviction that this logic belongs to something. Something that is observing me.

Anyway, my conversation with not-M lasted only a few seconds, and consisted only of three sentences, but it was minutes for me. I took it surprisingly casually, probably because my brain decided to ignore how fake and wrong everything about this situation was because finally talking to an apparent human person trumped that. Maybe it was that. It’s also possible that I was simply too deep into denial to care anymore.

So talk we do.

He asks "hey man, what are you doing", and I reply "nothing much". Then I remember I have to wake up in 1-2 hours depending on how much time (if any) actually passed since I turned on my phone, so I add: "But you know, I should be in bed right now."

And in the exact moment I spoke those words, my morning alarm went off.

I was lying in bed, it was morning and my phone was lying right next to me on the pillow, exactly where I picked it up from to go on Tumblr.

As it turns out, I dreamt the whole fucking thing from the moment I "turned on" my phone. My asshole brain just simply didn't feel the need to notify me that I had, in fact, fallen asleep, and instead chose to project me into a dark and uncanny knockoff of my bedroom which then proceeded to methodically break down into a surreal unreality around me, while I believed it to be the real, waking world all the while. No shrieking nightmare monster can compare to the sheer horror and anxiety of a world that is just a little bit not right.

Moral of the story: liminal spaces ain't your fucking friend. I tried it out tonight, and I think I had an encounter with a Lovecraftian psychological parasite created by my own brain that feeds on uncomfortableness, anxiety and fear.

Oh and also, in case you forgot, the two hours spent in this surreal psychological horrorscape were the only two hours I’ve slept tonight. Funtimes. :)

[namjoonsteeth]

Ruin The Friendship (part III)

Title: Ruin The Friendship (mini-series) Part 3

Word-Count: 6.3k

Pairing: Jay Park/ Reader (kinda)

Summary: Best friends to lovers. Inspired by Ruin The Friendship - Demi Lovato.

Genre: Smutty Fluff

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

There’s a picture of me on Jay Park’s Instagram.

This wouldn’t be the first time. He used to post dumb pictures of me edited to look like I had a mustache or drawn on huge boobs. This picture isn’t like that. Taken the last night Jay was home almost a week ago, it’s hard to tell who exactly is in the picture. I’m lying on my chest, my bare back facing the camera while my hair fans out messily covering my face. Posted with a black and white filter, the photo looks too intimate to be just anyone.

He’d disabled the comment section so I’m spared any attack from some of his more “protective” fans. I reread the caption, unable to stop the silly grin from taking up my face. I look around making sure my assistant, Bora, isn’t around to tease me yet again for being infatuated.

As always, I miss her the most.

He’s disgustingly cute. I send him a text message telling him it’s still a no on the pictures he’s been asking for since he left.

Y/n: I’m still not sending you nudes, even if you did post a fake cute picture of me.

He texts me back almost immediately.

Jay: fake!? I’m offended.

Y/n: Go to sleep

Jay: I can’t. Can I call you?

I look at my phone. It’s about one am on the east coast in the states. It’s usually around this time that he’s been calling either before he goes out or when he’s in bed. I won’t pretend like I’m over the butterflies in my stomach at being the person he calls at night. Back when he’d just become a trainee, he’d call me before he went to bed every night. He’d been so lonely back then, wanting so badly to be apart of something successful yet wanting to come home at the same time. Those were the hardest times for us. I’d been helpless. I couldn’t make it better for him, and I also couldn’t let him know how much I’d wished he’d come home too.

I call him, deciding to take a break from the work on my laptop. He answers on the first ring, his smooth voice filling my body and causing goosebumps to rise on my skin. He shouldn’t  have so much control of my body from across the world, but he does and it’s apparent in the way I sigh involuntarily like I’m finally at ease when he speaks.

“Hi, baby,” he says. He sounds so tired. It seems like every day he becomes more and more drained but there’s still that hint of Jay optimism that says whatever is happening is going well. He still hasn’t told me what exactly he’s up to, other than that I should expect some big news by the end of his trip.

“Hey, you ok?” I ask. He yawns loudly, there’s shuffling in the background like he’s shifting around.

“Yeah, everything is good. What about you? How’s work going?”

He’ll never admit to being tired. Even as he drifts off to sleep in the middle of our conversation, leaving me talking to myself for a good five minutes, he’ll still insist on blaming it on how melodic my voice was or some shit.

The time difference is the worst. Tonight when I’m headed to bed, and he’s got a free moment in between work, it’ll be the same. We’re figuring it out, I think. I mean, we always have. In the past, I’d chalk up our times of lack of communication as being us just growing up. We’ve always been able to go through time without contacting each other then coming back together when we could. Now, it seems like there’s no other option but to tough through it. I try not to complain because I know there will be longer stays, times when he’s touring, times when I have to travel. This New York trip is a test of our newborn relationship. If we can’t get our shit together for this, it’ll never work out.

I hang up the phone on a snoring Jay and reopen my laptop.

“How’s boyfriend?” Bora bounces in, her shoulder-length lilac purple hair swinging behind her. She’s carrying an arm full of clothes probably double her petite weight, yet she moves quickly; hanging up items and ordering them for our next fitting.

I shrug. “I don’t know he fell asleep again,”

Bora shakes her head smiling at her busy hands. “You two love to torture yourselves for each other,”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve gotten like five hours of sleep every night since he left. I’m sure he’s in the same boat if not worse. Believe me, I think it’s cute and all but I don’t see how you guys do it,”

I want to tell her that it’s not a question. When he’d kissed me, he held a part of me that he hasn’t yet returned. I’ve become so obsessed with him ( more so than before) that it’s a no-brainer. I’ll stay up as long as I need to if it meant seeing him through a grainy pixelated screen as long as he promised to come back.

I don’t tell her any of that. Instead, I shrug and go back to replying to an email, requesting us to style a Korean rapper who was invited to an American awards show.

“How are we feeling about the L.A gig?” I ask her.

“I’m in. I have a few options in mind we could think about, so I think we should do it,”

I nod at her and confirm a consultation for tomorrow morning. Bora has been my assistant for about a year now. She’s good enough to work on her own, but thankfully for me, she’d rather not. With her apart of the company, I have much more time to actually sleep in my own bed sometimes. She knows the ends and out of my business sometimes better than I do.

“So, we’re all set up for the Zino shoot,” I tell her putting the La event into the calendar. “I want you to put together a profile of what you were thinking about for tomorrow, and I’ll go through some stuff that we have maybe we have something he might like,”

“How about you go home and get some rest, and I’ll take care of the fitting today. I’ll even sort through some stuff for tomorrow. You look like you’re dead on your feet,”

I roll my eyes at her. “Oh, thanks a lot, but no. I can’t just sleep in the middle of the day,”

“You’re half asleep now, y/n,”

“Stop trying to get rid of me,”  I laugh.

Still, I take her advice and head home after another hour.

My place feels emptier than it did this morning. With Bora handling everything at the studio and Jay sleeping, there’s really not much to do but sleep myself I guess. Bora is right. I haven’t slept at all these past couples of days. Jay and I haven’t put any official title to this thing between us. ‘Boyfriend’ sounds kind of lame if I think about it too much. He’s still who he was before; my favorite person in the world. Of course, I can’t go around calling him anything like that; for one his head would get so big, I wouldn’t be able to live it down. It seems so juvenile. Eighteen year old me would be having heart palpitations at the thought of being Jay’s girlfriend. I’m over the novelties. I just want him, all the time.

I end up falling asleep on my couch. By the time I wake up it’s nearly ten, and Jay’s usually up by now. I check my phone to see if I have any missed messages. He must be still sleeping. I stretch out my limbs, getting up to shower and drink some sleepy time tea to put me back to bed. After an hour, I can’t force myself to stay up any longer. I fall asleep again after sending Jay a text telling him that I miss him and not to work too hard.

In the morning it’s the same thing. I have no missed calls from him or even so much as a text message. Even his socials are dead aside from the occasional tweet supporting a project from another artist. The only interesting activity comes from the hundreds of thousands of retweets and likes on the picture he’d posted of me yesterday morning. Quickly, I exit out before I’m tempted to read exactly what his fans think.

I check my email, seeing that Zino emailed me early this morning asking if we can reschedule the consultation a little bit later tonight. I forward it to Bora who immediately sends me a thumbs up saying she’s free.

I spend the rest of the morning trying to forget about the fact that my boyfriend is too busy doing god knows what (because he hasn’t told me anything) to text me back. I’m not a clingy person, I can respect wanting space and time to focus on work, but it’s not like him to go completely quiet. I’ll give him until I go in tonight to respond before I go searching again. Chase has always been my go-to when I need answers.

I’ve already wasted away Friday, trying to catch up on sleep and worrying about Jay. I’m determined to be productive today, even if I am a little annoyed.

I go over the prep work Bora had emailed me last night, adding a few things that I wanted to ask Zino about. Dressing men for events, especially American award shows like this had at some point become my favorite part of my job. It’s all about what an artist likes, and in America, you can go as bold as you want as like as you make it yours. Zino being invited was kind of a big deal for Korean hip-hop. People are looking at him to represent the culture. Bora and I were completely honored when he contacted us to dress him.

When I get to the studio, there’s still no word from Jay and Chase hasn’t answered his phone either. I’m trying not to panic. I’ve never been in the know exactly when they were going and coming. I guess just like everything else, this is an aspect of this new thing with Jay that remains unchanged.

Bora texts me that she’s running a bit late. By the time I’ve pulled some a few of the things we have in the back, Zino shows up to the studio.

He smiles a little less than politely, holding my hand a little longer and tighter than necessary.

“Bora should be right around the corner so we can probably start getting you dressed. I have a royal blue suit that I think you might like and it might fit you too,” I tell him running to the back to pull the rack of options out. I hand him the slacks and gesture toward the curtain for him to get changed.

“And I have these black loafers I want you to try on just for a reference but I’m thinking it might look better with white sneakers. I have to steam the white button up really quickly,”

I wait for him to come out in the blue slacks and hand him the dress shoes.

“You guys work quick,” he says while zipping the pants. I look at them noticing they’re a little short.

“We have to. It’s only her and I and we have too many clients at once. We get everything rushed, and send it back later if we don’t use it. Or we can just buy it outright if we really like it. You said you wanted blue so Bora was right on it,” I gesture for him to spin so I can see the fit in the back.

“They’re a little short but that’s how the guys in the states are wearing them now. I think with white converse or vans it would look pretty cool-,”

“The guys in the states? You know American fashion well then?”

I shrug, starting to steam the dress shirt. “My boyfriend travels to LA and New York a lot. I pay attention to what he’s wearing. He’s very into grungy styles, layers, and denim is his thing right now,”

“You’re Jay’s girl, right?” He smiles smugly at me while stuffing his foot into the shoe.

“Excuse me?” I ask looking up from the shirt I’m steaming. His eyes glisten with mischief like he knows something I don’t.

“The tattoo on your back. It’s the same one from the picture he posted,”

I look down at my yellow halter top that no doubt exposes the black ink on my shoulder blade. I still don’t see why it matters, though. Whether it’s because I’m still not comfortable being called “Jay’s girl” for some reason or because I don’t like how he says it, it annoys me. I don’t like how smug he seems, like he knows just how emotionally and physically fickle Jay could be. Or maybe I’m just projecting my own feelings of not hearing from him for two days. It’s late and I’m tired. I get it, he’s doing his own thing right now and usually, I wouldn’t bat an eye at having gone hours without talking to him. It’s just that, everything seems so fragile. Maybe I’m the fragile one and just need to learn to get over my own shit.

I clear my throat and pull the white steamed dress shirt off the rack. When I hand it to him, his fingers brush mine for a long second. He smiles at the ground, his dimples appearing. Where the hell is Bora? Jay would kill me if he knew I was alone at my studio at night with a stranger, no matter how known he is. He’s always saying I don’t take my own safety seriously, never mind the fact that there’s clearly something I’m missing between these two.

“Are you two close?” I ask, busying myself on the other side of the room with ordering papers that are already in order. Instead of stepping behind the curtain, he pulls his T-shirt off and pulls the crisp white shirt on.

“Well, we used to be ok, I guess. We were supposed to do a song or something,” he trails off, his fingers moving up the buttons of the shirt. “Then he slept with my girlfriend,”

There it is.

He waits like he’s waiting for my reaction. I’m saved from giving one by my phone ringing. When I see it’s not my assistant, I roll my eyes. Of course, he’d call me at this exact moment. Asshole. I have half a mind to decline his call. Instead, I answer, smiling brightly if only for my guest.

“Hi, Jay,”

“Y/n, baby, I’m so sorry. I’ve been running around all day, in and out of meetings, I didn’t mean to not get back to you last night,”

“It’s ok. Listen I can’t talk right now,” I tell him. “I’m working,”

“Working? At the studio? Where’s Bora? Is she there with you? Do you have a client?” He asks so many questions, and it would be a little bit funny if I didn’t know what his reaction would be to all of my answers.

“Yes, working at the studio. A client rescheduled and we weren’t doing anything else,” I look over at Beenzino who’s pretending he’s not listening to my half of the conversation. He straightens the leg of his slacks and holds up his thumb as if to ask me what I thought.

“Where’s Bora?” Jays repeats.

“She’s on her way,” I tell him moving into the other room.

“Fuck, Y/n. You literally don’t give a shit whether some guy-,”

“It’s work, Jay. I’m working, just like you did all yesterday,”

He laughs humorlessly on the other end. “So you’re mad that I didn’t call?”

“That’s not what I’m saying at all,” I sigh. I rub at my temples feeling a headache start to pound. “I miss you, I don’t want to fight,”

“We aren’t fighting,” he says softly. “I just want you to take care of yourself, baby. I’m fourteen hours away. I can’t just be there if something happened,”

“I know, I know,” I say. “I didn’t expect Bora to be late, I promise. I was trying really hard not to stress you out about this,”

He laughs. “You always find a way to get in trouble,”

I smile. “Am I in trouble?”

Jay blows a loud breath into the phone. “I can see you biting that fucking lip, Y/n,”

I laugh. “I have to go, he’s waiting, and I think Bora just came in,”

“At least tell me who it is so I know it’s not some famous gangster or something,” he laughs.

Shit.

“It’s Zino,”

He’s silent. He doesn’t say a word for at least twenty seconds. Even when I call his name, he stays quiet like either he’s choosing his words or just doesn’t have any. 

“Send him home,” he says finally.

“Jay,”

“I don’t want to hear it, Y/n. Send him home. Have him reschedule with Bora. I don’t want him anywhere near you,”

“You have to be fucking kidding me, Jay,”

“I’m serious. I’m not dealing with the shit, Y/n,”

“You don’t have to,” I laugh. “Listen, I’m going to go finish my session, I’m going to stay at Bora’s tonight, and then you can call me later if you find the time,” I hang up before he can say anything else.

My headache is in full force right now. I’m ready to go do exactly what he told me and send him home. My phone vibrates in my pocket but I ignore it. When I step back into the room, both sets of eyes are on me like they know I’m literally on the edge of sanity.

“Sorry I’m late,” Bora offers holding up the camera. I nod saying nothing as I start directing Zino where to stand while she takes the pictures.

“Do a few with the jacket, and we’ll look into jewelry after,” I instruct. They both quietly do as they’re told with little to no other interaction. Bora looks at me over the frame of her glasses, letting me know we’ll be talking on our way back to her place.

We finish the session with two more looks, promising to send Zino a copy of the photos so he can choose what he wants later. When he leaves, I release a breath like it’s the first time I’m breathing in the last hour. I pull out my phone to check the time. It’s just past nine-thirty.

My screen is filled with notifications from Jay that I’d ignored. Three missed calls and a bunch of text messages.

Jay: Y/n

Jay: I’m so fucking mad at you.

He does the thing where he thinks stating the obvious will make a difference somehow. Well, I’m so fucking mad at him too. This is my job. He can’t just expect me not to do business with someone just because he couldn’t keep his dick in his pants. Mad at me? I’ve done nothing wrong.

Jay: I don’t want you working with him, y/n. I’m asking you not to.

Jay: let him work with Bora but I don’t even want him in the same room as you. And this isn’t a possessive boyfriend thing.

Jay: I mean it is, but he’s going to try to get back at me through you and I’ll go crazy

Jay: I’m not trying to be a dickhead. I’m trying to keep you safe.

Jay: and I didn’t forget you hung up on me too...

The ellipse feels like a promise that turns me on despite how upset I am. I sigh, dropping my head on my desk. This is Jay. This isn’t crazy new boyfriend Jay who wants to keep me in a box. He’s never been like that. If he says it’s serious, I have to trust him. He’s never lied to me a day in his life. He’s never been selfish when it came to me. This, whatever is going on between the two of them has nothing to do with me, but if I ignore him, if I ignore how uncomfortable Zino made me even if for half a second, this can and will become an even bigger problem.

“You think you cannot look so depressed at the fact that we’re going to La for free in three weeks?”

I lift my hand, flipping my friend off. “He’s all yours Bora,” I rub at my temples again staring at my phone.

“What?”

“I’m not going to La. You take whoever you want, and have fun. Zino is your client now,”

“But you’ve already started planning out the looks,”

I raise an eyebrow at her. “Do you want to change it?”

She shakes her head. “No, I think it’s perfect,”

“Well, you have a free trip to LA,”

“Shit, Y/n. What happened?”

I don’t feel like explaining anything right now. I actually just want to climb into Jay’s memory foam bed and sleep all day tomorrow.

“I don’t actually know,” I shake my head looking at the next text that comes in from my boyfriend.

Jay: Call me when you get home so I at least know you’ve made it

“This is what happens when you date your best friend,” she says holding out her hand to pull me out of my chair. Her arms come around me, and I lean against her shoulder.

“A fight is never just a fight. You want to be on your own side, but you’re on his too right?”

I hate that it makes sense. And I hate that I’m fighting with Jay. We never fight. This is exactly what I was afraid of. If we weren’t together, would working with Zino even be a big deal?

“I think I’m going to stay at Jay’s place tonight,” I tell her. She rolls her eyes looking at me like I’d just told her the sky is blue. I can’t be that obvious, can I?

“Come on, I’ll drop you off,”

Bora’s boyfriend picks us up from the studio. He drops me off at Jay’s condo, and I let myself in. I haven’t been here since the night he left. I drop my bag on his couch and beeline for his shower. When I’m done, I pull one of his T-shirt’s over my head and step into a pair of his boxers. I crawl into his big bed, finally feeling a piece of my heart relax just a bit.

When I call him, he answers on the first ring. “Y/n,”

“I’m at your place,” I say around a yawn.

“What?”

“I’m in your bed and wearing your clothes. I’m yours in every sense of the word, but you think some guy I just met who’s not you is going to make a difference to me,”

“It’s not like that, baby,” he sighs.

“It doesn’t matter,” I say. “I’m letting Bora in charge of him. I told her to go to LA without me,”

“I’ll take you to LA myself,” he says like it’ll make up for how dumb he was earlier.

“It’s not about me going to LA, Jay. I can go anytime I want. It’s about you expecting me to obey what you say just because you say so,”

“I’m trying to protect you,” he sighs. I’m kind of getting tired of his sighs. It’s like I’m the one being exasperating.

“You’re trying to protect me from your secrets, Jay. I already know everything,”

“How do you always find a way to make me feel bad about being mad at you,”

“Because I’m a woman,” I laugh tiredly.

“You hung up on me,” he says.

“I’m looking forward to how you’ll get me back for it,”

“Stay at my place tomorrow night too,” he tells me. “I want to come home to you in my bed,”

“You’re finally coming home?”

“You sound a little bit like you miss me,” he laughs.

“I miss your-,”

“Hey,” he says cutting me off. I laugh, pulling the blanket tight around my shoulder. “Watch your mouth,” he whispers.

“Or what-,”

There’s a sound out in the living room that stops me mid-sentence.

“Jay, I think someone is in your apartment. What should I do?” I whisper.

He’s quiet on the other end, I pull the phone away to see that I must have disconnected the call accidentally. I stay still, afraid that if I moved they’ll hear me. There’s definitely footsteps moving in the apartment. Whoever it is, moves without turning on any lights. I grasp my phone in my hand ready to throw it and make a run for it.

“You really think your phone is going to keep me from getting you back for hanging up on me,”

I look over at the doorway to see my boyfriend. I scramble off the bed and jump at him, wrapping my legs around him. He catches me easily, his hands going to my bare thighs. I press my lips against his neck, squeezing him in my arms.

“Are you crying?” He laughs while pulling back. I drop down to my own two feet, but he doesn’t let me get far.

“I thought I was going to die, you bitch,” I wipe at my eyes, failing to pull away from him as he traps me against his chest. His lips press against my cheek.

“And your only defense was to throw your phone at me. I really can’t leave you alone,”

He walks me backward toward his bed. “I wanted to surprise you. Now turn around,” he says against my hair. The tone of his voice has me eager to do whatever he says. I turn, and his hand drags up my back before he forces me to bend over his bed, my ass sticking up in the air.

His fingers peel the boxers away from my skin. He lets out a breath when he has the underwear around my knees. Two hands reach up, palming my ass. He squeezes my flesh, his fingers digging roughly into my skin.

“I owe you for hanging up on me,” he says. Before I can prepare myself, his hand comes down hard on my skin. He soothes it away with his lips, kissing where his palm connected. When he pulls away I’m expecting another sting, instead, he drags his fingers along my clit, making me gasp. I look back at him to see him bringing the three fingers against his tongue before he repeats the motion. Without notice, he plunges two fingers into me.

“Fuck,” I call out.

His wrist flicks back and forth, moving his fingers inside of me. His free arm wraps around my waist as to get a better grip as his speed increases. I move my hips with his rhythm, wanting more.

“You look so pretty like this, baby,” he says.

I’m panting, knees shaking barely holding myself up. Just when I think my legs will give out, Jay twists my hips so that I’m on my back. He pulls the boxers all the way off. His mouth presses against the inside of my left knee, looking up at me while his lips move higher toward my thigh. He bites my flesh hard before running his tongue over my skin. He moves further up, kissing where my thigh and hip meet.

I close my eyes as his mouth finally settles on it’s intended destination. His tongue presses into my clit, alternating between flicks and circles. My hands move to his hair, holding him against me. A hand reaches up, two fingers enter me once again. His thumb follows his tongue, rubbing my clit in between licks.

“Jay, I can’t hold it,” I try to pull him up but he stays put, his hand moving faster. His free hand moves up to touch my skin under the T-shirt, settling on my breast.

My legs start to close around him but he quickly pushes them down, keeping me open and helpless. I pull at his hair as I start to quiver again.

“Come for me baby,” he says against my skin. Almost like I’m programmed to follow whatever he says, I tighten around him as I cum. It feels like it lasts forever, as his mouth continues to work me over.

When my body finally relaxes, he moves up, covering me with his own body. His lips touch mine gently like he’s the most innocent person in the world. I wrap my arms around his neck, squeezing myself against him.

“I missed you so much,” I tell him. My hands go down to the waistband of his pants but he grabs my wrists.

“Not tonight. I want you to rest. You look exhausted,”

I feel my lip poke out at being denied his body. He takes my lip between his, before pushing his tongue against mine. He groans against my mouth, flipping me over so I straddle his waist. I peel my T-shirt off leaving me wearing nothing. His hands cup my breasts before he bends to kiss the center of my chest.

“You haven’t fucked me in more than a week,” I press my lips to his ear. “I want you,”

“You’re the devil, I swear,” he shakes his head at me. When I reach over for the condom, he pulls his joggers down. He lets me get the latex in place before I sink down on him, holding his shoulders. I can’t go slow, it’s like my body won’t allow it. I move against him, grinding my hips over his while his hands hold onto either side. He watches where we connect, and I can see his eyes appreciate every time I slide against him. When I can’t take it anymore, he flips me over, finishing what I started. We come together, a loud gasp and groan. He moves to pull away but I wrap my legs around his hips holding me tight against him.

“Welcome home,” I say

He laughs against my neck, his chest still moving too fast. I reach up to run my fingers through his wet hair. He’s too heavy, yet I can’t find myself pushing him off. I only cling to him tighter.

“Are you still mad at me?” He says against my skin.

“Yes,” I say around a yawn. Still, I move grab at his T-shirt, trying to pull it over his head. He does it for me before standing to go take care of our mess. When he comes back his boxers are back in place. He slides in bed beside me, wrapping my naked body up in his arms.

“Y/n,” he says my name looking at me like I can’t be serious.

“You’ve been ignoring me for like three days,”

“I was on a fourteen-hour flight,” he says laughing.

“And you still haven’t told me what you were doing in New York,”

He presses his face into my neck, drawing me close. “We’ll talk about it in the morning,”

We sleep wrapped around each other. We’re both so tired we don’t stir until probably noon. When I do finally get up, Jay’s still knocked out. I untangle myself from the sheets and slip out of his arms so I can get in the shower.

His bathroom fills with steam, fogging up the glass that takes up the large space. I step in, finally feeling relaxed in what feels like a week. I’ve never been one who needed to be around my boyfriend twenty-four seven, and I still don’t think I am. Jay could spend all day at his office and I don’t think it would make a difference. It’s when he’s away that makes me a little anxious. When he’s home I at least have the option to see him.

I step out of the shower after washing up with Jay’s very manly shower gel. I grab the towel I used last night and wrap it around my midsection before brushing my teeth and heading out toward his closet. Every time I come over, I always find something I want to add to my own closet. I go directly to his row of designer T-shirt’s, sifting through them.

“I’m getting a little tired of having my shit go missing,” his says from behind me.

I look back at him. His hair sticks up in every which way. He scratches at the lion on his chest tiredly. He looks so freaking adorable, but I refuse to let on just how much I like looking at him.

“I don’t know why you don’t just expect it by now,” I say pulling out the black Givenchy T-shirt I’ve seen him wear often. He also has a red one, so I don’t think he’ll miss this one. I pull it on before going to grab another pair of his boxers and a pair of his jeans.

I pull his clothes on while he watches in amusement. Sitting on one of the stools he has in the closet, I cuff the bottom of the pants. When I stand, the jeans sag just a bit, but it’ll have to do.

“Go shower,” I shoo him. “We’re actually going out into the world,”

Jay grabs my hips as I walk past him, pressing himself against my backside. “I thought we were staying in bed all day,”

“You assumed we were staying in bed. We need to go pick up some stuff you wanted from my studio that you never got. Then I need to make sure Bora’s all set on the Zino event. I also want to go to that new vintage place that just opened up,”

Jay raises an eyebrow at me. “And I need to be along for all of that?”

“Yes, because you have to tell me about New York, and because I refuse to build a relationship solely on the sex,”

“We’ve known each other for half of our lives, Y/n. What else kind of building do we need to do,”

I roll my eyes at him for being such a man. He’s right though, but I’m not going to admit that I just missed him too much to not want to spend the day with him. My phone rings saving me from having to answer his question. I push him toward the bathroom while answering the unknown number.

“Hello?”

“Y/n,”

It’s Zino.

“Hey, what’s up? Is everything ok?” There’s really no reason for him to call me. Bora told me she’d sent an email right after she dropped me off, explaining that she was going to take over her event.

“Actually I was just calling to ask you the same thing,” he laughs. “Bora told me you weren’t coming to LA. Did I overstepped last night when I asked about Jay?”

Yeah, kind of. I don’t say that though. Instead, I curse my boyfriend who’s singing in the shower for being so messy and making my life more interesting than I care for.

“No, it’s not that,” I tell him. “I just don’t see why both Bora and I need to go to the event when she’s more than capable-,”

“And your boyfriend wants you to stay away from me,” he adds. I don’t deny it.

“Bora will take care of you,”

“Tell Jay I’m not trying to steal his girlfriend, no matter how much he deserves it,”

I roll my eyes at my phone. “Listen, I don’t care to get into whatever shit you and Jay are into,” I say while pulling on my white vans.

“I’m just saying he has nothing to worry about. I can behave myself,”

“Email Bora if you still want to work with her. I’m available to help with whatever you guys need. I’m just not going to LA,”

Jay comes out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist. He frowns at seeing me a little peeved on the phone. I shake my head, pointing for the closet for him to get ready. The less time he spends naked, the easier it’ll be to get out of his bedroom.

“Ok, Y/n,”

“You can email me if you have any more questions. I’ll see you around I’m guessing,”

“Yeah, see you,” he hangs up leaving a slimy feeling. He’s harmless I know, but I can just hear the ulterior motive in his voice. I’m feeling a little better about not working with him so directly.

“Who was that?” Jay asks pulling on a hat to cover his messy hair. I walk over to help him tuck his T-shirt in the waistband of his jeans the way he’s been wearing it lately.

“Zino asking if there’s a reason I’m no longer going to LA,”

Jay’s quiet while I fix the shirt making sure it doesn’t look weirder than it already does. He pulls it off I guess. I wait for him to say something, instead, he just presses slings an arm my shoulder. I pick up my bag on the way out the door.

“So, New York?” I prod when Jay slides into the driver’s seat of his Bentley. He looks over at me a wide smile on his face. And in a second he’s that young kid again, on the verge of something amazing. I can see it before he says anything.

“Roc Nation, baby,”

[ajuimaginary]

Soulmate The8

Part of the Seventeen Soulmate Series

It was funny, really, that no one could ever truly know what was going on in someone else’s head. Except one time- for one moment. The first thought your soulmate would ever have when they saw you would be written in bold letters across your arm.

Some people had some pretty embarrassing words. They were sweet, really, when you considered the sentiment, but they were pretty awful for the young kids who had to walk around with them. Your close friend had, spelled in huge letters across her arm, “holy fucking shit!” 

Your own words were in letters that, at first, everyone around you had not understood. Luckily, all hospitals had a language expert somewhere on their staff who would either translate unknown marks on the arms of newborns or at least inform the parents what language it was so that they could get it translated themselves if they wanted to. Your local specialist had gazed in amazement at your mark and told your family it was a mix of languages. First Korean, then Mandarin. It was also... unusually long. A stream of thought.

They were surprised. But it was assumed that your soulmate must be bilingual. And since a very young age, determined when it came to the idea of your soulmate, you set off on the tough road of trying to learn both.

There were online websites and books to help you and well as local classes, and one of the first things you learnt as you got a better grip on both languages was what your soulmate’s first thought actually was. Oh my god, look at- usually i don’t care, but if they weren’t wearing that shirt, I think I’d be jealous.

Shortly after your tenth birthday, on a school trip to a museum on Soulmates through the ages, you noticed the museum worker looking curiously at your arm while the class stopped for lunch. 

“I hope you don’t mind me asking, dear.” she spoke carefully, because some people considered soulmate marks to be extremely personal. “But do you have two languages written there?”

“Yeah,” you said, with an instant grin, at that age where you loved any chance to show off a little to the adults around you- especially loving the chance to talk about a possible future soulmate. “Korean, then Mandarin! I’m learning both!”

“Are you really?” she smiled warmly at you. “That’s very cool. You know, my soulmate thought in two languages as well, the first time she saw me. She’s bilingual. Different languages from your own of course, but looks like a similar situation to yours.”

“Really?” you asked, lighting up. You had never met anyone with the same type of mark before.

She rolled up her sleeve, letting you see.

“She was from Brazil, you see,” the worker explained. “But she was living and working in New York when I met her. We both just happened to be there for the summer. She was speaking English each day and was pretty used to it. But when she saw me, though she started off a thought in English, she suddenly switched right back to Portuguese. She explained to me she had been stunned, and to articulate her thoughts properly, she had fallen back on her native language.Yours might be the same, do you think?”

You nodded, amazed by the idea. You had never gathered exactly why your soulmate might have abruptly switched languages mid sentence. 

“Yeah, it’s probably the same.” you agreed. The women looked rather charmed. 

“You know, if you’re interested,” she said. “We have some books here at the museum about soulmates, and one has a great chapter on issues with bilingual soulmate marks. Psychologists have always been interested in thought patterns with people who know multiple languages.  It may be a bit complex in parts, but if you were interested I could give you my copy to read.”

“Yes please!” you agreed happily. “That would be amazing. Thank you so much.”

“No problem at all,” you smiled. “I know how annoying it is to feel like you’re waiting around to meet someone. It’s fun to fill in the time when you can, right?”

So you returned home with a new book that day. She was right- a lot was very dense reading- and it didn’t necessarily give you new insights beyond what she’d already told you, but it was a great way to feel connected. You were especially pleased to find the end of the chapter praising the people who made efforts to learn the languages of their soulmate.

It became a favorite of yours. Over the years you bought a few more books, until High School work became more overwhelming and important and you had to put your interests aside a bit.

As you finished high school and began moving on to other things, your closest friend (the one who had holy fucking shit! written on her arm) started getting into K Pop. It amused you to no end, especially when she begged for your help with the occasional translation- so happy to have her own personal helper even if you couldn’t find the time to be invested in the fandom like she was- and she was able to become pretty good at quickly making gifs with good captions as a result.

Her favorite member was Wonwoo (and with how much she talked about him, you didn’t get much of a chance to hear everything about the other boys in the group- in fact you didn’t think you’d even had a chance to see all of their faces before). She called him the love of her life on a near daily basis. You laughed at her, but it was all with fondness. You had to agree, from the little you had seen, the boys did seem really sweet.

“Look, let me at least show you a music video!” she says one day at a sleepover. “I know you like their songs, and I know you think they’re cute- I promise you’ll understand when you watch a music video and see all of it wrapped up into one adorable package.”

She pouts at you, making her cutest, hardest to resit face, and fully taking advantage of the fact that she knows how much you adore her. And how much you kind of owe her for letting you hang out at her place that evening while your own living space became overrun with people.

“Fine,” you sigh. “I’ll do you the great favor of watching one Seventeen video. And only one!”

“Only one?” she attempts the pout again, but you shake your head.

“We’re meant to be studying right now, remember? With this course load I don’t have time to be obsessed with thirteen cute boys! I’m not trying to get myself invested!” you sigh down at the papers scattered over the floor. “And we thought high school was stressful...”

“I promise this will heal you, okay?” your friend says. She bites her lip as she scrolls along Seventeen’s youtube channel. She seems to be having a hard time deciding.

“Only one,” you remind her as soon as she opens her mouth- doubtless to attempt convincing you that more than one would be okay.

“Fine,” she agrees at last. “I’m going with Boom Boom. It’s so well put together and has a fun story-line and, well, you get to see mint Wonwoo being cute in an elevator.”

“Sounds great,” you say a little sarcastically.

“Oh, shh, you’ll understand in a minute,” she waves you into silence.

And then she starts the MV. And only thirty seconds in, you see a face so stunning it makes your mouth drop right open. And all you can think is how is he not her bias? 

“Pause!” you gasp right away. 

Your friend pauses the video just as the screen switches to a shot of Wonwoo, who at least is very familiar to you by now, and turns back to you with her eyebrows raised. 

“What?” she asks.

“Who was that?” you ask, pointing to the screen, gesturing for her to go back. You see the smug smile spreading over her face already as she drags the video back. 

The gorgeous boy, reddish hair swept up off her forehead, holds a tablet in his hands and gazes right into the camera. You feel a flutter you never expected to feel as you look into those eyes. 

“That is Minghao,” your friend says. “Xu Minghao, called Myungho in Korean, and his stage name is The8. He’s one of the Chinese members.”

“Huh,” you laugh, hand going to your arm. “I guess I like bilingual boys then.”

Your friend laughs. 

“He looks great for the whole video, just wait,” she warns you. “Are you ready to start again or...?”

“Yeah, yeah, please go,” you tell her quickly, waving a hand her way.

So she does. The song is great, of course, and the music video is visually amazing and really fun. And most of all, that boy, Minghao, is so eye catching you can’t tear your gaze away whenever he comes onscreen. It’s mind blowing how good he looks.

Finally, the video ends, and you turn to your friend.

“Okay,” you accept, pushing your study notes away. “Show me more?”

It does not take long for you to become fully invested in the rest of Seventeen, finding they all have their own lovely charm, their own amazing dynamic that pulls together best when they all connect. But no one ever really touches your ever growing love for Minghao. There’s just something about him. 

When you find out Seventeen are going on a World Tour, you and your friend spend an hour at her house talking over every possible scenario of whether or not you’ll be able to go, looking at the most plausible concert venues close to where you live, seeing if you can save up. When you realize that yes you will be able to go, you hug each other so tight it feels like your ribs have been crushed. 

But even that hug is nothing compared to when you actually get the tickets, sitting hunched over your two laptops, waiting until the second they go online to grab the VIP seats. And sure enough, it works. You get what you were hoping for, and along with all the excitement of seeing them live, you now have a guarantee to interact with them in the form of a hi-touch. You’re so hyped it takes the whole evening to calm down enough to act normally again.

Approaching the concert date, you make your own merch to wear, your friend talking you into it despite the hard work because it’s fun and personal and makes you stand out. You break out every artistic skill the two of you possess with a set of fabric pens until you have two really nice homemade t-shirts, one saying Minghao and they other saying Wonwoo with designs around them that you spent hours selecting. 

The concert itself is amazing. Seeing the boys you’ve become such a huge fan of is a delight, and you’re pleased to help your friend a little by translating some of what they say on stage. At the end, as the lights dim and the boys leave the stage with cheerful, thankful waves toward the crowd, your eyes stay fixed on Minghao until he’s gone.

 And then, before you can even be sad that the concert is over, it’s time to line up for the hi-touch. You’re practically sweating in the line, your best friend bouncing on her toes beside you. It’s far too hot in the hall, and you take off your jacket, shoving it into your bag. You keep rehearsing in your head the few sentences you want to throw to Minghao, hopefully catching his eye by speaking both Mandarin and Korean. Then the line starts moving, and off you go.

.

Minghao is, as he always is, feeling almost high with happiness and exhaustion after the concert. There’s nothing like the buzz of sharing performances with the fans and seeing them respond, and pulling off every move of the choreography perfectly. It was almost like there was something extra special that night too- some kind of blessing over the room that made everything run perfectly. 

And then he starts getting ready for the hi-touch. Because of the heat of the evening, most of the members get changed into light outfits, shedding sweaty clothes from on-stage. He takes a moment to pause, look at his muscles flex in the mirror, and smiles at the sight of his soul mark on his arm. 

As always, because they’re famous, he’ll have to grab one of the special arm bands that idols wear to cover their marks when they’re in short sleeves, but he likes to take a moment to look at it out in the open while he can.

How is he not her bias? the mark reads. He always wonders if some day he might be mere moments from meeting his soulmate.

“Minghao, there’s no time to be cheesy!” Mingyu’s voice teases suddenly from behind him. “We have to go meet the fans now.”

“As if you aren’t the King of being a cheesy hopeless romantic,” Minghao responds instantly, and Mingyu laughs, setting his arm alongside Minghao’s in the mirror to look at his own mark- Who on earth is that long-legged beautiful idiot tripping over his own feet? 

“I can’t help it. It’s a situation like a drama.” he says happily.

“It’s a situation of you being a clumsy idiot.” Minghao responds in deadpan, eyes sparkling, because really, both of them are hopeless romantics when it comes to their soulmates. 

“Oh, shh,” Mingyu hits his arm. “Just put on your arm band and come.”

So Minghao gives up teasing him, slides on the band and makes sure it’s covering his mark while Mingyu does the same, and then they head out and join the line of their members to begin the hi-touch. 

The fans move fairly slowly down the line today, since they have quite a bit of time to spare, and Minghao, standing at the very end, enjoys that when each fan leaves him he usually has a moment to look down the line before the next fan arrives. It’s especially good when he has a chance to spot who is wearing things or holding items with his face- taking note and hoping to make the experience extra special for people who have him as a bias and will treasure a special moment with him. 

He’s just finishing with a fan when he looks up and sees you. And his lips part in surprise as his eyes flicker over you.

Oh my god, look at- his suddenly jumbled thoughts begin. But then he feels like his brain itself has switched off. It takes a second before he shakes himself out of his blank-mind state, thoughts automatically going back to his first language to better articulate- usually i don’t care, but if they weren’t wearing that shirt, I think I’d be jealous.

And he really would. Which is strange. Really really strange. 

And then another fan is in front of him, so he tears his eyes off you, currently talking to Jun, and makes sure he gives them his attention. He’s a professional after all, and cares deeply about his fans, even when distracted.

It takes three more people before you actually reach him, and weirdly he feels like his heart is beating too fast now, his palm too sweaty. It isn’t common, he supposes, to see someone so close to your ideal type.

“Hi, Minghao!” you say in Korean. “I love you!” 

He easily responds with “I love you too!” while he interlocks your fingers together, and you feel like fainting right there, but you power on quickly, switching languages. 

“I can’t even begin to explain how much you mean: your dancing, and the songs you make, and your general attitude!”

His eyebrows raise, impressed by your language ability. 

“Ah, thank you so much,” he says in that sweet, humbled way of his, half bowing his head. “I like your t-shirt, by the way!”

And then, as his eyes travel down, impressed by the design you made- incorporating the infinity symbol- his attention is attracted to the mark on your arm. Specifically to the mix of Korean and Chinese characters.

“Please move on,” the security guard says to you. It’s been too long now for a simple hi-touch. 

You try to pull you hand away, but Minghao clutches on, staring at your arm. Reading it. Seeing his own thoughts echoed right back to him. 

His soulmate!

“Your arm,” he says. 

His soulmate!

“Minghao,” you say nervously, glancing toward the security guard. “I have to-”

“Please, keep the line moving,” security asks again.

But Minghao tugs you closer, looks back at the security guard.

“Sorry!” he says. “Sorry but... this is my soulmate!”

“What?” you gasp. There’s a flicker of chatter down the line. The waiting fans are staring with their mouths open. 

“That- that thought there.” he points to you arm. “I just had it. Just now.” Security are staring now too, too shocked by the rare situation to do anything yet. Minghao continues. “Look- look here. Is this what you thought when you first saw my face?”

And he rips off his armband, lets you see his arm. 

How is he not her bias? it says. And you think back to that day, so long ago now, when your friend showed you the Boom Boom video. And you look up at Minghao and, numbly, stunned, you nod. 

“Oh my god,” you hear your friend say next to you. 

From down the line, Mingyu wolf-whistles. You can hear some of the other members, some of the fans, starting to laugh. It’s pretty common for people to enjoy the stories of their biases discovering soulmates (even though there’s a lot of jealously too- who can fight the universe?) and it’s extra special for the fans who just got to witness it. 

In the back of your mind you realize that later, on Vlive, you’ll have to make an official announcement to all the Carats. This will become a part of your life. Minghao will become a part of your life. 

You can barely move from a combination of pure happiness and nervousness, but lucky for you, you have a fearless soulmate.

Minghao is smiling very wide as he pulls you even closer by your linked together hands. You’ve heard that in situations like this, the fan who turns out to be the Soulmate is usually asked to wait until the end of the event. But as the manager approaches to finally carry out the proper protocol, Minghao is already whispering to you.

“I might get into trouble for this with my managers later.” he says. “But I can’t leave you waiting for me without this.”

And he kisses you there in front of the line of fans. 

You hear screams from the fans, and laughter, and several of the members yelling different encouragements and protests at Minghao. But you can’t think past his lips. Past your interlocked fingers, and the man of your dream pressed against you, unable to resist you.

He pulls back finally, eyes intense and happy. And his manager scolds him half heartedly, and then asks if you want to wait backstage for him. So you wave a numb goodbye to your friend and the awed crowd, and follow the staff, looking back in time to see Minghao turning to a line of fans ready to scream congratulations at him.

But he glances back at you one last time, like he can feel your eyes on him. And he gives you a quick wink, which feels more like a promise. And you think your heart may never beat normally again. 

[massivedrickhead]

One More Year: Chapter 31

Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, it means so much to me that you guys understand I need to take a break every now and then :)

Please keep reviewing/liking/reblogging, it really helps to keep me going.

Fanfic.net

I do not own Pitch Perfect or any of its characters

Chapter 31

Chloe's first month at Barden seemed to fly by. It felt like one minute she was unpacking her boxes into her dorm room, and the next she was having a hood pulled over her head and being dragged to one of the University's auditoriums. When it was ripped off she saw she was standing with a bunch of other confused girls. Both Aubrey and Stacie were amongst them.

Out of the shadows stepped a girl in a pristine Bellas uniform, and Chloe almost squealed with excitement.

They were each handed a blue and yellow Bellas scarf and asked to repeat some… weird things about Treblemakers and wolves. It was all very dramatic, but Chloe didn't care. She had made it into the Bellas with her best friends, just like they'd always planned.

"Okay ladies," Alice, their leader, said as they walked into their first hood night party. "Try not to act like sluts tonight. Anyone caught treble-boning will be kicked out."

"I guess that oath was serious," Aubrey said, as she, Chloe and Stacie made their way through the party, looking for someone they knew.

"It's not gonna be easy to follow that rule," Stacie said, before gesturing to her junk. "He's a hunter."

"It creeps me out when you call it a dude," Aubrey said, with a shudder.

They saw Jesse frantically waving them over. "Bellas!" He yelled.

"How much has he had to drink?" Chloe asked, laughing as he stumbled over the benches to get to them.

"Guess who's in Treble?!" He said. "I'm one of those a cappella boys your mothers warned you about."

"Actually you're one of those Treblemaker's we're not allowed to talk to," Chloe said, laughing. "We just swore an oath."

"Well that's lame," he said, frowning. "Did you swear this oath too Aubrey?"

"I'm afraid so," she said.

"Well I'm gonna go find Benji. He didn't swear an oath not to hang out with me," Jesse said, before he stormed off dramatically.

"I guess Benji's a Treble too," Aubrey said, spotting him in the crowd.

"So… No Treble-boning allowed, huh? How do you feel about that?" Chloe asked as they made themselves drinks. She hadn't drunk much since she'd been at college, but she had discovered that she hated beer and loved vodka with cranberry juice.

"What do you mean?" Aubrey asked, sticking with just soda. She hadn't taken to the whole drunken part of college. She had far too much work to do, and someone had to keep an eye on Chloe.

"Come on," Chloe said, grinning. "I know you and Jesse like each other."

Aubrey blushed. She looked behind her to make sure he wasn't in ear-shot. "I just think he's nice," she said.

"Ah ha," Stacie replied. "Sure. And Chloe and Beca are just good friends."

"Shut up," Aubrey said, laughing.

"Have you guys even talked about it?" Chloe asked.

Aubrey bit her lip and grinned. "We… We've discussed it. Before college started."

"And?" Stacie asked.

"We may be going on a date," she said, blushing furiously again. Chloe and Stacie both squealed in excitement. "A secret date!" She added, looking around in case Alice was nearby. "A very low key secret date that is no where near this campus."

"Oh my god this is so exciting!" Chloe said, clapping her hands. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Well you and Beca were in your little bubble before college," Aubrey said. "Which is fine. I just didn't want to… interrupt it."

"You'd never be interrupting," she said, feeling guilty. She'd promised herself she wouldn't neglect their friendship after the last time, and she hated thinking she'd done it again.

"It's okay," Aubrey said. "We didn't want to make it a big deal."

"So what will you guys do now?" Stacie asked. "Alice looked pretty serious about the oath."

"I guess we'll just keep it a secret," Aubrey said. "I'll talk to him about it. He isn't the best at being subtle."

The girls carried on talking and drinking and soon found themselves dancing and singing with all the other a cappella people. Chloe was happy. She was having fun. She was having the college experience she'd dreamed about. And she didn't feel the vibrating of her phone in her pocket.

"Hi! Sorry I can't come to the phone right now! Leave a message!"

Chloe's chirpy answerphone message rang out of Beca's phone.

"Hey Chlo', I just wanted to say that I hope you're okay and that you're having fun. I saw Jesse's picture of all of you on Instagram so I wanted to say well done for getting into the Bellas. Just give me a call or text when you get this. Love you."

Beca ended the call and lay back down in bed. She looked back at the picture Jesse had posted. Aubrey, Stacie, and Chloe were all in front, grinning broadly. Jesse and Benji were behind them. They were all squashed together, trying to fit into the photo. All laughing at something one of them had said. The caption read 'a cappella nerds know how to party! #bardenbellas #treblemakers #acapellanewbies'

She scrolled through some more of his photos. There was one of him and Benji, posing in front of their Star Wars themed dorm room. Another of the two boys eating enormous burgers at a diner. A lot of the whole group either at diners or at parties or just hanging out together on campus. She was glad to see Chloe looking happily on all of them. She put her phone down on her chest and closed her eyes.

She missed them. Not just Chloe, but all her friends. Even before she'd gotten close to Chloe, Jesse and Benji were always there to drag her places. Now it was just her.

Chloe had been home to visit two weekends out of the four she'd been away, but she'd been busy catching up with her parents that Beca had only seen her for a night each time. She looked well. Tired but happy.

In the beginning they'd Skyped every night and had texted constantly, but once Chloe started getting busier with work and preparing for her Bellas audition, the texts and skype sessions became less frequent. And Beca wasn't angry, she just missed her. Chloe had spent most of her teenage life dreaming of going to Barden and joining the Bellas, and now she was there Beca didn't want to interrupt it.

So for now, she was content with the sporadic texts she got and the pictures they posted on social media.

She tried to keep herself busy. She had set up her desk and mixing equipment in the den and spent most of her day in there making music. Her plan was to work for a few months really perfecting her music and finding her sound before she started applying for jobs at record labels.

The trouble was, there was only one in Barden, and it happened to be the hardest one to get into. Residual Heat had produced some of Beca's favourite albums, and she was desperate to go and work there.

She wasn't sure when her dream of moving to L.A. to work had changed to staying in Barden and working at Residual Heat, but she assumes it had something to do with Chloe.

She didn't even remember making the decision not the move this year, but when she was researching record labels, she had all but skimmed past the ones in L.A.

Her phone buzzed on her chest and her heart leapt, thinking it might be Chloe.

Dad: Sheila and I forgot our keys can you come let us in?

Oh yeah, that had happened too. Sheila had moved in about a week ago, and Beca was glad. She liked Sheila, and it meant her dad wasn't away for days or weeks at a time.

She went downstairs to let them in.

"Thanks Becs, we didn't want to knock because Jasper would wake the whole neighbourhood up," he said.

"How was the movie?" Beca asked.

"Pretty good," her Dad said, helping Sheila out of her coat before taking his own off. "What have you been up to?"

"Nothing much," she said.

"Did you Skype Chloe?" Sheila asked.

"She, um, she had her Bellas initiation party tonight so we didn't get to," Beca said. "We're gonna try tomorrow." In truth, Beca had had no idea Chloe was at a party until she saw Jesse's picture. She had sent her a few texts asking if they were still on for Skype, but hand't gotten a reply. "I'm gonna head back to bed. I'll see you guys tomorrow."

They both said goodnight and Beca headed back to bed.

It was only 10pm, and she felt lame pulling on her pyjamas at this time. But there was nothing else for her to do, so she crawled into bed and tried to fall asleep. She put one of her mellow playlists on her phone, and tried not to cry as every song made her think about Chloe.

The rest of the month carried on like that. Chloe's texts became more and more infrequent, and she hadn't been home for weeks. Beca wondered if Chloe would be home for her birthday on Halloween, but she assumed she wouldn't.

She knew there was a big University Halloween party happening the Saturday before Halloween on campus, and that Chloe and the others would probably want to go to it. She knew they'd all be too tired and hungover to want to travel all the way home for a few hours the day after. She didn't mind. She had never liked having a big fuss on her birthday.

She was right.

She woke up at around 11am on her birthday to a phone full of text messages.

She smiled as she replied to them all, spending a little longer replying to Chloe's.

Chloe: I hate that I'm missing your birthday xxx

Beca: I know you do, but it's okay. You've got a lot of stuff on and from what I've seen on Facebook last night was a crazy party xxx

Chloe: God, I'm so hungover I never want to go to a party again. You should have come, Beca. I missed you xxx

A few days before they had finally managed to Skype each other. Chloe had begged her to come to the party the university was throwing, but Beca hadn't wanted to.

Beca: I'm sorry I wasn't there, but you know I'm not big on crowds and stuff. I miss you too xxx

Her dad knocked on her door before opening it.

"Hey Becs, Sheila and I are gonna take you out for lunch," he said.

"Why?"

"It's your birthday," he said.

"Sheila still hasn't gotten used to our low-key vibe has she?"

"No," he said. "She's determined to make us a proper family. Happy Birthday by the way."

"Thanks," she said. "I should probably get dressed then." She looked down at her phone once her dad had left and saw that Chloe had text her again.

Chloe: Did you get your present? xxx

Beca: Nope. I guess it will arrive tomorrow since there's no mail on Sundays? xxx

Chloe: Damn, I paid extra to make sure it would reach you by today xxx

Beca: I told you not to get anything for my birthday. You're a poor student, you need to save your cash. I gotta go, I need to get dressed my dad and Sheila are taking me out for lunch xxx

Chloe: Yeah I gotta go too. I need a nap before rehearsal. Love you xxx

Beca: Love you too xxx

Beca got dressed and headed downstairs. Her dad and Sheila were sitting at the kitchen table, a couple of cards and a present were waiting for her.

"Happy Birthday!" Sheila said before squeezing Beca into a hug.

"Thanks," Beca said, still not used to Sheila's happy, loving, personality.

"You wanna open these now or wait?" Her dad asked.

"I guess I'll open them now," she said. She opened the first card and a $50 note slid out.

'To Beca, Happy Birthday! Love Mom xx'

Beca had to re-read it to make sure it was real. Her thumb brushed over the hand-written 'Mom'. They had similar handwriting.

"Bec?"

"It's from my…" She cleared her throat. "It's from my Mom."

"Oh," her dad said, sitting back in his chair. "Well, good. It's about time you got some birthday cards from her."

"Yeah," Beca said, closing it and putting it back on the table. "I guess."

She opened another one from Chloe's parents which made her smile. Robbie and Aliza had clearly written their own names at the bottom. She'd have to remember to tell Chloe to thank them for her.

The third card was from her dad and Sheila.

She felt a small pang when she realised none of her friends had sent her a card, but then she figured that's what texting and Facebook was for, so she pushed it out of her mind.

She opened the present, which was a new mixing board from her dad and Sheila.

"Oh cool!" She said looking it over.

"It's the right one right?" Her dad asked.

"Yeah," Beca said. "This is awesome, thank you guys so much."

"You're welcome," her dad said, smiling. He checked his watch. "Ooh, we should get going."

They piled into her dad's car who drove them to Beca's favourite restaurant.

She tried to be happy as they ate and talked, but she was aware that her smile kept slipping. She missed Chloe. Really missed her. She had hoped that she'd see her today, since it had been a few weeks since she'd been home.

She noticed her dad kept checking his phone throughout the lunch, and seemed distracted when he was asked if they wanted a dessert menu.

"Huh? Dessert?" He checked his watch again. "Sure."

He kept ordering more drinks for them, even after Beca insisted she was full to bursting, and eventually paid the bill and left, a whole two and a half hours later.

When they got back to the house, Beca was so full and tired she wanted to take a nap, but her dad sent her into the den to grab a dvd.

"But I don't want to watch a movie," Beca moaned.

"Just get it please," he said.

She walked into the den and was hit by a shout of "Surprise!"

"Holy shit!" She shouted, jumping three feet in the air. "What the hell guys?!"

Chloe, Aubrey, Jesse, Stacie, Benji, and Fat Amy were all standing there, laughing at Beca's reaction. There were balloons everywhere and a Happy Birthday banner.

"Happy Birthday!" They shouted before she was pulled into an enormous group hug.

"You guys gave me a heart attack," she said, when they pulled away. "What are you all doing here?"

"Well we filled your house with balloons and shouted surprise, so I guess we're here for a root canal," Fat Amy said, rolling her eyes. "Why do you think we're here birthday girl?"

"No but you all have class tomorrow," Beca said, looking at them, still in shock.

"We can drive back up tonight," Jesse said.

"I… I don't know what to say," Beca said, laughing.

"Do you really think we would have missed your birthday?" Chloe asked, speaking for the first time. She sounded quieter than usual. And she looked a little tired. "Since you wouldn't come to the party last night, we brought it to you."

"But with much less alcohol and fewer costumes," Stacie said. "And less," she gestured to her chest, "cleavage on display."

"The afternoon is young," Jesse said with a wink. "This party could get wild."

They all laughed but for now, Beca only had eyes for Chloe.

"Told you I'd get your present to you on time," Chloe said, handing her a small package. Beca opened it and laughed when an t-shirt with 'I love Chloe' written on it fell out. Chloe unzipped her jacket and Beca saw she was wearing her 'I love Beca' t-shirt. "I also got you this," she said, before pulling her into a kiss.

[thebeckychronicles]

Post 36: War ate a girl and spat out a woman.

I survived 2017! Ha. 

And by survived I mean 2017 feels like the beginning of the unbecoming of me, and I feel absolutely unhinged. And it’ s cool. 

There’s this quote by David Levithan from his book Boys Kissing Boys, a book that gave me this weird sensation of my chest collapsing in on itself and an intense relief. 

“Ignorance isn’t bliss. Bliss in knowing the full meaning of what you’ve been given.” I’ve come to think that ignorance is comfortable. It’s meant to keep you in this bubble where nothing bad happens. Ignorance is fragile. 

Almost 21 years of life is NOTHING compared to how long the world has been in existence. But I’ve got almost 21 years worth of learning and knowing things, and that’s something. 

I know what it is to live a healthy life. I know what it is to live a life with depression. I know what it is to be so so sick. I know what it is to get better. I know some days I don’t want to get up in the morning. But I know every day is worth the effort of it. Even if it’s difficult to fathom it. 

A friend recently said, “Life is a lot.” I find myself thinking the same thing very often. Life is a lot. Life is too much sometimes. Too much joy, too much hurt, too much excitement, too much anxiety. More often than not I don’t know what to do with it all. When I was first getting testing done, the morning of my lymph node biopsy I was in the bathroom of the room getting into the hospital gown. I responded to my siblings in our group chat, thanked them for their well wishes and on a whim checked Instagram. My sister had posted a picture of us from December 2016 captioned, “much too much.” I never asked what she meant by that but i remember thinking of that photo and it’s caption as the needles made their way into my neck. How this whole situation had me thinking, “much too much.” 

This year has been filled with moments where I’ve thought to myself, “This is too much. This is so much.” Whether it was my frustration with my failing body, the comfort of knowing there was effective treatment plan, the pain from the chemo and cancer in my body, the support I received from my family and friends. My fear that I wouldn’t survive the efforts to save me (BECAUSE HOLY SHIT CHEMO WAS THE WORST THING IN THE WORLD), my joy from finishing treatment. The grief that came from closing a chapter of my life untouched by illness the day I was diagnosed. The elation at entering remission. It was all much too much, both the good and the bad. 

This year has been overwhelming in its “too muchness.” And I’m still trying to process and understand everything that’s happened to me, everything I’m feeling and trying to put them into thoughts I can actually understand. I’m trying to understand what I went through and what I’m thinking. I’m trying to understand who I’ve become/unbecome. I’m trying to discover the pieces of myself I’ve unknowingly let go through this whole process because yeah, I’ve changed, most of the time I still feel like a stranger to myself despite the fact that the cancer is gone. It’s like the cancer came into my home, rearranged everything and now the space looks and feels so foreign and I can’t find anything. I think this year was the unbecoming of who I was. It didn’t just change me it undid me. People don’t want to say that cancer absolutely defines them or changes their lives. That’s fine. That’s their prerogative, but in truth I understand it and I don’t at the same time. Because for me? Cancer unraveled me, and made me piece myself together in an entirely new and unfamiliar way. Cancer doesn’t define me, but it is the cause of the redefinition of myself. That’s kind of hard to ignore. 

Everything is colored in some sort of dichotomy now. And I don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing. Or if I’m making things worse for myself. Although there is no “right” way to be a cancer survivor- it feel like I’m doing it all wrong. That I’m stuck in this “being sick” state of being while I don’t mean to be at all. What I mean by everything is a dichotomy is cancer is always in the back of my mind. During my good and bad days. And it’s kind of weird. If I’m having a good day I’ll have thoughts like, “I’m so grateful I get to be here, and not be burdened by illness. Thank God.” On bad days I think how much I fucking hate that I was sick but “hey it could be worse right?” On those days I resent how much of my life has shifted because of this disease. These thoughts aren’t wrong/right/bad/good. They just are. And they’re thoughts that give me some sort of perspective. Perspective that either bolsters or painfully humbles me. 

A few days after what probably was my third treatment my cousin (Hi Faby) treated me to a movie, The Zookeepers Wife. It was a really lovely movie and it was nice to get out of the house and do something not medically related. It was a great start to my day but later that night proved to be one of the worst nights of my life. I had gotten out of the shower, and was so dizzy and lightheaded I couldn’t get out of the shower and had to rely on my mom to get me and wrap me in a towel and get me to the kitchen table. I was in so much pain, and my mom had to help me get dressed and i just ended up on the living room floor crying and in the worst pain, throwing up and throwing up. I thought it’d never end. This was one of those “much too much” times. 

I think it was one of the first times I was genuinely pissed at the fact that I was sick and getting treatment that also made me sick and there was nothing I could do about it except suck it up and take it. My desperation to escape my body hit an all time high in that moment. I remember wishing myself back to that morning if not out of my body. Eating popcorn and watching a bittersweet movie. I had a lot of those moments where I wished to be somewhere else, some other time.

See what I mean about a dichotomy?

I experienced a lot of beautiful moments this year. In a year that is arguably the most difficult one I’ve had to live through. So going back and forth between those two sensations sometimes gives me whiplash. There were some really awful moments. And there were some really exhilarating ones too. Neither takes away or lessens the blow from the other. 

I’m not sure what I’m trying to get at here. There’s another piece from one of my favorite writers Dominique Christina, “Remember that none of it killed me. That all of it could have.” I think that’s where I’m at right now. Trying to process everything I went through this year. 

Mary Oliver wrote, “Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness. It took me years to understand that this too, was a gift.” As we close out this year I’m thinking how 2017 is my “someone I loved” and cancer was that box full of darkness, and I’m trying to understand how it can be a gift or at the very least something so much less vicious. 

Some things I feel like I see with clarity now, but so much is all muddled. It’s like my mind got made into a labyrinth and I’ve been trying to make my way out of it since. 

Here are some things I can say with clarity concerning myself:

I’ve learned how easily life can become unexpectedly bad. But I also learned to remind myself that it can be wildly amazing too. 

1. I want to go into the new year making more of an effort to love myself- even with all my resentment and anger directed towards myself. I want to put myself first, what I want and need.

2. Cancer become my segue way into being more honest with myself and with the people around me.

Things I will tell my younger brothers:

3. Life’s short. No matter how long you live to be 20 or 10,000 years old it will never be enough. Life’s too short to be anything but cracked wide open, it’s too short to be numb or feel little. Feel all of it. The amazing, the awful, the hurt, the healing.

4. No matter what happens to you in this life you for the most part get to decide what alters you- what pushes you to become the person you’ll be tomorrow. 

5. The world owes you everything. And by everything I mean all the kindness, all the generosity, all the fucking things. 

6. Demand everything in life. Reach for what you want and don’t apologize for it. 

7. Don’t ask for permission to live loudly and boldly. You live with the consequences of all your choices- the good and the bad ones. Make them all worth it. 

8. Dream bigger, dream better. Always. 

9. It all starts with putting one foot in front of the other. And it doesn’t even have to be the best foot. 

10. Love yourself, even when it’s the hardest thing in the world, which often times it is. 

I don’t think I’ll ever be the same. But maybe- that doesn’t have to be a bad thing anymore. 

Happy New Year everyone. We’re still here. <3

[bfellicious]

Geography; what do you remember most about that course? I had quite some Geography classes while growing up. What I remember most are the giant maps on the walls in the classroom and there always was a globe somewhere in that room. At home we had an illuminated globe ball. Geography has never been my strong suit, but learning on a spinning globe was definitely easier and fun! The globe I had while growing up is actually nothing compared to the globes of Bellerby & Co. Globemakers; sorry mom and dad ;). Bellerby & Co. Globemakers all started when Peter Bellerby’s search for a globe for his father’s birthday ended up in the decision to make his own globe. How difficult can it be to make a ball and put a map on it? Since there are no ‘how to make your own globe’ books, it turned into a trial and error for about 2-4 years and 100 attempts. Licensing maps, morphing a rectangular maps into gores, make a ball, how to balance the ball,… Goring the globe itself took about 18 months to perfect. The idea that hatched in a pub in London, changed into a thriving business. Trained globemakers are creating these high quality hand made globes in a studio in North London. From the stand, to the artwork, the painting and map-making, each globe is expertly crafted using traditional and modern globemaking techniques. It truly is a world in motion.

I became very fascinated by the work of Bellerby & Co Globemakers, so I asked some questions to Peter Bellerby, the one who creates masterpieces with his team and who literally holds the world in his hands every single day.

Credit photo: Cydney Cossette ~ Bellerby & Co. Globemakers

What makes Bellerby & Co. Globemakers unique?

We are handcrafting and hand painting terrestrial and celestial globes of our own design… all here in London. Everything we can do and can source locally we do and that is pretty much everything apart from some more exotic woods we work with time to time. Next to the usual factory made globes you get these days, we think ours are pretty unique.. and literally no two will ever be exactly the same. Our customers can also choose to have us add hand drawn illustrations, their favourite quotes in hand written calligraphy, trace travel routes and add bespoke cartography.

Credit Photo: Team Isis, Jon, and Emma. ~ Bellerby & Co. Globemakers

What do you look for in people when you are hiring?

We look for talented artists and designers who want to make a living working with their hands rather than… say.. behind a computer. Everyone spends at least 6 months training. It requires a lot of patience and commitment to get to a place where you can actually make a high quality handmade globe, so really it is about finding someone really passionate and stubborn! It takes a huge amount of concentration and attention to detail, awareness of hands and body. No one can be experienced specifically before joining our team so it is all about finding people who are passionate about being given a chance and letting them go at it to see if they actually enjoy the work.

Photo by Tom Bunning for part of his ‘Crafted’ Series. ~ Bellerby & Co. Globemakers

A Bellerby & Co. Globe is a handcrafted and hand painted modern world globe, made with love in London by a team of highly trained artisans in London.

What is the most difficult / crucial step in the process of making a globe?

Laying the gores is the hardest part and what requires the most training. If you can imagine taking a piece of paper, wetting it and then stretching it within an inch of its life without tearing it or allowing the paper to turn to mush. We have to be aware of overlapping as you can lose cities or whole countries if one piece of the paper goes over another. Until you lay the last gore you don’t know if you have measured right and may have to start again.

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Photo by Tom Bunning for part of his ‘Crafted’ Series. ~ Bellerby & Co. Globemakers

Photo by Tom Bunning for part of his ‘Crafted’ Series. ~ Bellerby & Co. Globemakers

  Most memorable globe you made? The most challenging one?

Every new size or style of globe we make comes with a new set of challenges. Every size requires a new set of skills as they are all made slightly different. Each of us for the most part specialises in one size.  The hardest.. when we made an Egg-Shaped globe for the Elephant Family to auction off. We had to design the cartography to suit the shape, re-do the mathematics involved with marking up the globe and hand cutting the gores, and create a hand case brass meridian to hold it and allow it to spin, also in that egg shape rather than a proper sphere. We are now working on a globe for the Louvre Museum in Paris which is posing a lot of challenges as we are using Coronellis original etched copper plates. They are housed in Paris behind lock and key so they will be hand printing the gores there and we will be making here. We have to work out a few crucial details from a man who has long passed away and left no hints to get it just right. The globe will hang above the main staircase so we want it to be perfect.

Photo Credit: Ana Santi ~ Bellerby & Co. Globemakers

Have you noticed a shift in people buying globes? Is there a high demand?

I have noticed a shift luckily. We are booked solidly with orders until Summer 2017 and our team has grown from 4 to 15 in a few years. I think we got a lot of press attention and social media attention early on which really helped spread our story around the world. I think there has been a shift lately and more people see the value in a high quality products and objects over a factory made ones. Every day we are meeting people hand carving spoons, hand smoking salmon, forging their own knives etc.. it’s great. But yeah, when I started everyone thought it was a crazy idea so I am happy people seem to love what we are doing as much as I do.

Credit photo: Ana Santi ~ Bellerby & Co. Globemakers

How would you describe a day in the life of a Bellerby & Co. Globemaker?

There is no normal day and no one in the team has a strict structure to stick to. Sometimes you are working on something and you just have to walk away and spend some time on something else. There is for the most part a serene atmosphere and everyone spends time chatting and catching up and then other time with headphones in… in their own little world. For me… I make globes as well as manage the team, admin, accounts, run the errands all over town and try and keep the studio generally up and running – so I am rarely sitting or standing still for more than a moment. I am the sole owner of the company and its a private company, so with a team of 15 and my own schedule of globes due to go out, sometimes I don’t know whether i am coming or going. I check each and every globe throughout the making and painting process and help train new apprentices.

The team ‘Bellerby & Co. Globemakers’. Credit photo: Bellerby & Co. Globemakers

What do you love most about your job?

Being able to do something I love everyday, being happy to go into work each morning, working in a beautiful, colourful artistic environment and being able to employ talented artists here in London.

Favorite spot in the world?

I equally love many places around the world for different reasons, it’s hard to just single out one spot. New York City of course for the architecture and buzz, Mexico City is somewhere I have been only once but felt instantly at home. Bangkok Thailand I have been to 5 times and appreciate it for both for the beauty and culture and endless things to explore. But we have to remember all the beauty we have right on our doorstep as well. I love a road trip through Europe, the small towns in Italy, France, Spain, Germany, driving through Switzerland… cities like Sevilla Spain, Rome, Athens … I am happy many places it is too hard to choose… but most of all I love to wake up somewhere brand new with the excitement of exploring and seeing it for the first time.

Peter Bellerby. Credit Photo: Kasia Bobula ~ Bellerby & Co. Globemakers

What are your hopes for the future?

To continue to do what I love, to grow the team a little more and then stop growing.. we will never be a huge factory mass producing and I think we are almost big enough now! I want to keep working on improving our craft, designing new bases and trying our new colours and styles. Maybe opening up a second studio in America someday. I am not a big planner though, I like things to progress organically and hopefully we can branch out to some interesting side projects and collaborations as well.

Your life mantra?

I believe in keeping an open mind and positive attitude and helping others wherever and whenever possible. In business I believe in creating quality products that I am proud of and always being open to others ideas and working as a team rather than running a dictatorship!

Credit photo: Ana Santi ~ Bellerby & Co. Globemakers

Thank you Peter Bellerby for this interview. The globes are all masterpieces and I can’t wait to have one of them in my own hands.

For more information about Bellerby & Co. Globemakers, you can visit their website or follow them on twitter, facebook and instagram. You can also watch some great videos on their youtube channel.

All pictures in this blog were used with permission of Bellerby & Co. Globemakers.

[BLOG] A World In Motion - Interview with Peter Bellerby @globemakers. #globes #artisanal #tradition #interview Geography; what do you remember most about that course? I had quite some Geography classes while growing up.