#asdo

[komaeda-nagayto]

ESSEK ESSEK ESSEK ESSEK ESSEK ESSEK ESSEK ESSEK ESSEK

[cherrygorilla]

The Mixtape Mysteries: Chapter 1 (Part 2)

Crazy Train - Ozzy Osbourne - 4:53

Yes, it is a ridiculous amount of time since I last posted anything to do with this (or anything at all really), but I've been dying to write for this story again, so I thought it would be a good way to help me get my groove back. Plus, I wanted to wait until Camp Wanamaker was done before I went back to working on Acting School Drop Out (because I feel like I might be able to use some stuff that's been mentioned in the next part lol). So, after months and months of uni stress that's kept me away from my google doc, here's the next installment of the story that's kept me going through it all.

Listen along with the gang here. Enjoy!

Heavy eyelids dropped over a pair of umber eyes trying, and failing, to focus on the computer screen in front of them. Whilst the radio often felt like Butchy's only co-worker, today it just seemed to be functioning as a lullaby machine - and the smooth, fade-out ending of Electric Light Orchestra's 'Evil Woman' just proved the point further. One second he was staring blankly at a page of pixelated text on a fuzzy screen, and then the next thing he knew he was drooling into the palm of his hand and almost falling off his chair at the sound of a car racing past his window. 

It's not even that he was tired - it was barely even 11am for Christ's sake - he was just so bored his brain was shutting down from lack of stimulation. And considering the latest turn of events, his body wasn't far behind. The roaring engine disappeared as quickly as it had arrived, leaving the incessant ticking of the plastic wall clock in its place. It didn't matter what kind of car it was, or where the hell it was going; all Butchy knew was that he wanted to be in it. Hopefully travelling far, far away from this crappy, dead-end town, and this shoe box of an office, that was more dust than desk, and smelled like a wet rat. 

Begrudgingly, he gathered himself together and finished typing out the latest file he'd been working on - something about trespassing in the old steel mill, he didn't care enough to look into the details. Tipping his head back, he rubbed his palms across his eyes, trying to press as hard as he could to draw some sort of alertness to the forefront of his mind. If anything, it just made him more tired.

One glance across his desk let his gaze settle on the dorky Star Wars mug Royce and Bentley had gifted him on his last birthday, and for the first time since he'd slumped in the splitting leather swivel-chair that morning, a ghost of a smile graced his features. He took a swig and drained the mug of the last of its contents: bitter, room-temperature coffee. Wincing at the taste, he picked up the next file to work on, but swiftly dropped it in favour of refilling his mug. After all, the walk to the coffee pot in the main office was the only change of scenery he got all day. Sometimes he watered the dying yucca plant beside him with the rancid liquid just so that he had an excuse to get away from his desk.

The tapping of keyboards and mumblings of the same, tedious phone calls he overheard every day met Butchy's ears as he lumbered down the hall and pushed open the office door. Lurking behind the frosted panel, caked in as much dust as the rest of the building, was the rag-tag reception team, consisting of three women Butchy had absolutely no intention of even looking at, let alone speaking to. He'd given up trying to make conversation with his co-workers pretty quickly after every meagre attempt on his end had been ignored. Most shifts passed without him uttering a single word. However, Lela ditching his ride that morning must have thrown him off more than he realised, because this shift was about to become an anomaly. 

"So I said to him: If you know so much about the damn sausages, why don't you cook 'em yourself?" 

"I bet he knows a lot about one kind of sausage."

"Oh Jen, pull your mind out of the gutter, you sound like a teenager."

"She practically still is one."

"I'm right though, aren't I?"

A strained sigh slipped past Butchy's lips before he could stop it. The nasal drones from the women behind him were enough to make his eye twitch at the best of times, but the added scraping of Jennifer's nail file made it inevitable. Before he could short-circuit altogether though, one of the adjoining doors to the main office was pushed open, and the conversation unfolding behind it immediately caught his attention. 

Heaving a sigh that put the young trainee's to shame, the fourth, and final receptionist, led the charge into the room - two officers hot on her heels. "Well, you'll just have to go alone then, won't you, gentlemen?" 

"We can't just 'go alone', the chief's the only one that goes on solo investigations. What if it's dangerous? What if we need back-up?"

"And what, pray tell, Officer Reynolds, is so 'dangerous' about a broken store window?"

"Well from the sounds of things it's a pretty clear-cut robbery. What if the culprit's still on the scene? What if he's armed?"

"Why are you assumin' it's a 'he'?" Jennifer piped up with a smirk, punctuating her question by blowing the acrylic dust from the tip of her nail. 

As expected, neither officer batted an eyelid at her interruption. 

"We got the call last night. You've got a higher chance of him sticking the damn window back together."

"But what if it's like that time when Old Man McRoberts'-"

"Enough, boys. I don't want to hear it," she finally snapped, slamming the stack of paperwork down on her desk so hard it even made her glasses chain quiver. Turning to the pair with her hands planted firmly on her hips, she continued. "Callahan, you're on patrol with Officer Powell; Reynolds, you're investigating that store window. Alone."

"But Fran, that never-"

"No, I don't want to hear another word. You're going solo, Reynolds, and that's that." 

"...Uh, I could go with you."

The whole office fell silent. Even Jennifer's nail file seemed to pause for thought. But all too soon, six pairs of eyes fell on Butchy, whose grip on his mug instinctively tightened under their bemused glares. He couldn't exactly blame them; even he couldn't believe that he'd dared to speak - let alone suggest such a thing. But then again, this was a perfect opportunity - perhaps the only opportunity he'd get (at least for the foreseeable future) to prove himself a worthy member of the team. Being stuck behind a computer screen all day was getting him nowhere - in fact, he was pretty sure he had even less respect now than when he'd first set foot through the door over a month ago. But working on a case, a real case, meant he could put all the skills he'd learnt in his training to the test - show everyone that potential he'd promised in his interview. This could be the making of Officer Bandoni. This could be his ticket out of that godawful, stuffy office. This could be-

"Oh my god, look at his face; he's serious."

God, he hated Jennifer. But he hated that cackling laugh of hers even more. 

"Jennifer," Linda, the crotchety receptionist to her left, scolded. If Butchy hadn't known better, with her brusque, hushed tone and sharp glare from over the top of her tortoise shell glasses, he'd have thought the woman was her mother. 

"Yeah right," Officer Callahan snorted. But a pause, followed by a brief glance in the new recruit's direction soon had his confidence faltering. "I- Oh…" 

"Hey, cut him some slack, Jen; the kid's still learning the ropes," Officer Reynolds piped up, ignoring Officer Callahan's attempts to hide his smirk by smoothing out his moustache, and instead sending the smarmy receptionist a blasé, yet stern frown. "Of course he wasn't being serious."

"Actually, I was," Butchy corrected. He set his mug down and stood his ground opposite the two officers, gently nudging his chin up and puffing out his chest in an attempt to outwardly show some of the confidence he was so desperately trying to scrounge together. At least that would help to mask the stubborn rage bubbling away in the pit of his stomach. The staff's dismissiveness was frustrating enough on its own, but being reduced to a 'kid' was downright infuriating. 'Kids' did not single-handedly raise their little sister. 'Kids' did not give up their weekends to go and work in a shitty garage for two bucks an hour all throughout high school just so they could have food on the table. 'Kids' did not shoulder the responsibility of four adults after stepping up to parent, not only his own sister, but the three boys next door too. Butchy hadn't felt like a 'kid' in years. He had always been the oldest - the most mature, the most dependable, the most capable… So for these six adults, who had barely given him the time of day in the month he'd been working with them, to stand there and tell him he was nothing more than a 'kid'...it was insulting. And he was determined to prove them wrong. "If you need another officer for back-up, and no one else is free, then why can't I go with you?" 

"Well, for one, you're not an officer-"

All Reynolds had to do was hold up a hand for Callahan to snuff out his snickers. "Because you haven't finished your training yet, son," he plainly explained. At least his withering look was softened by a bored tone. 

"But I've aced every part of the course I've completed so far," Butchy argued. "And this could be a chance for me to learn on the job, out in the field-"

"Son, let it go."

"You said, yourself, that I've got potential. Why can't I just show you-?"

"Look, kid, you're not ready - you won't be for a long time. I admire the optimism but we've gotta look at the facts here. And truth is: the dirt on Callahan's shoe's got more experience walkin' 'round a crime scene than you do. I know you want to get out of the office and get a taste of the action, but I can't work the case and babysit you at the same time. It's just not realistic."

'Babysit'? Butchy could feel the word in the palm of his hand as he clenched his fingers into a fist around it, crushing it, along with all its juvenile connotations. "I'm not a 'kid', I'm eighteen years old," he insisted, choosing his words and tone very carefully as he fought not to lose his cool. 

"Yeah, and I'm not a chainsmoker neither," Jennifer sniggered, appearing to have swapped her nail file for a cigarette during the confrontation. She took a long drag as her, deep, carob eyes latched onto his, lashes sprawling across a rough sea of streaky kohl, before letting the smoke leak out through her crimson-painted smirk. 

Butchy didn't know what was more nauseating: her attitude or the stench of tobacco hanging in the air. 

Officer Reynolds let out an exasperated sigh that soon stole back the trainee's glare though. "That's all well and good, but it's not gonna change my mind. You need more experience before you go out in the field, Bandoni," he explained, with an expression that told Butchy he was well-weary of the conversation now. "You can't learn to run before you learn to walk. It's just not realistic - if anything, it's naïve."

"But how am I supposed to get more experience when I'm stuck behind a desk all day?" 

Butchy's question was shot down though as the pair of officers crossed the room to the office's main door, back to their usual routine of barely acknowledging his existence. "If I'm not back by two for your CPR training, Officer Powell will handle it, okay?" Reynolds said as he plucked his hat from the coat stand in the corner and secured it atop his head of thinning, taupe hair. Knowing the new recruit wouldn't be satisfied with any answer he could give him, he'd just decided to brush the question aside altogether. 

And knowing that defiance, and further provoking, would get him nowhere, Butchy finally relaxed his hand, and gave a stiff nod. He silently watched the officers announce their departure to the room and felt his shoulders slump in defeat, his chest aching with betrayal. Officer Reynolds was supposed to be his mentor, the one who would take him under his wing as he learned the ropes - and yet he'd kicked him to the curb and spat in his face the one time he'd tried to do the right thing. At least that's how it felt to him anyway. 

"Bye boys," Jennifer trilled with a flirty giggle as the office door closed behind them. Tapping the ash from the end of her cigarette, she turned her vampish smirk to Butchy. "Nice little show there, Bandoni. And there I was thinking today was gonna be boring." 

Butchy's frown deepened as her scornful laughter battered his ears. The thick-headed she-devil wasn't worth his breath though - even the sickened huff that escaped his throat felt like a waste. His fingers once again closed, although this time they at least found the warm ceramic of his mug beneath them. Letting the heat seep into his skin, he took a deep breath in through his nose and tried to focus on anything else other than the anger boiling in his chest. At least the Star Wars mug, and the memory of receiving it, gave him something to anchor himself to: a way to discharge all the bitter resentment that had been steadily building for weeks, but had finally come to an ugly head. One more snarky comment from Jennifer and he'd have hurled the coffee at her sloppy up-do, he knew it - he could feel himself teetering on the brink. 

And yet, a friendly hand in the centre of his back was all it took to draw him back from the edge. "I should be thanking you," Fran said with a sympathetic chuckle, and roll of her eyes at the officers' expense. "I thought they'd never leave."

Managing a weak, but grateful smile to the receptionist, Butchy finally picked his mug up from the drink station and took his leave before he could draw any more unwanted attention to himself. Jennifer's squawking voice still rang in his ears as his footsteps pounded down the hall, desperate (for once) to shut himself away in his office. At least in there he knew he was safe from further embarrassment, even if the only thing waiting for him was a stack of files on petty traffic crimes. Apparently reading about speeding fines and parking tickets was all the excitement his life could afford him for the time being. But, for once, he actually found some comfort in that. 

"Well, Wuthering Heights, you were fun while you lasted, but I am not going to miss you," Vivien snorted, holding the worn paperback out in front of her, as if to address it like an old friend. 

The gentle chuckles that bounced the soft, chocolate brown curls beside her set her innocent little middle-school heart aflutter, and she caught herself clamping her lips shut in case it tried to escape. Craving the thrill of that sensation again, she snatched a shy glance in his direction before plastering the jovial grin back on her face. "Thank you for the 'A' though, Emily." 

"What are you thanking her for? We did all the hard work," Royce scoffed. "I wrote so many notes on the moors I'm pretty sure I almost gave myself Carpal Tunnel."

A snicker crinkled the brunette's nose. "Well you do have the neater handwriting."

"And you have all the good ideas," Royce chuckled, praying desperately that the prickling he felt across his cheeks wasn't what he thought it was. 

Stopping in front of a set of painted metal doors, Vivien turned to him with a disapproving frown. "Not all the good ideas." 

"Fine… most then."

Whilst Royce may have been able to keep his blush at bay, Vivien felt hers raging like a wildfire as she downplayed his compliment with an affectionate eye-roll and pushed her way out into the crisp autumn air of the Hawkins Middle parking lot. Hopefully a bracing breeze like the one that smacked her across the face the second she set foot onto the asphalt would help her systems stop running on overdrive, because right now she felt like a live wire about to catch light. One wrong move from Royce and he'd be fried to a crisp. 

Wrapping her free hand around the forearm that flanked him, protecting his arm from being barbecued should he decide to fondly bump her as they fell into stride once more, Vivien, composure regained, offered him a smile. "I guess that makes us a pretty good team then, huh?"

"Yeah, I guess it does," he agreed, holding her gaze for a beat and letting the sincerity of the moment swell alongside the tingly, warm feeling spreading through his chest. "...And we've got the A to prove it." Terrified by the sensation, he snorted out a laugh that shattered the tenderness of the moment just as awkwardly as how he almost tripped over his own feet because he was spending more time looking at Vivien and her freaking dimples than where he was walking. Damn his stupid hand-me-down sneakers from Miles and their stupidly long laces.

More awkward, cheerful chuckles tumbled from the middle schoolers' lips as Royce steadied himself again and they made their way over to the cluster of trees by the soccer field. It didn't take Vivien long to break the comfortable silence that had fallen over them though. "I don't know what we're going to do with ourselves now that project's finished; it completely took over our lives for like two whole weeks there."

"I'm sure we'll find something."

But Royce's laidback grin was the complete antithesis of Vivien's tense shoulders and skittish gaze. Then again, he had no idea what she was planning, or what her skating friends had been begging her to do for weeks. 

It couldn't be that hard, right? It was just one little question. She asked him questions all the time, this one didn't need to be any different. And besides, there wasn't really anything Vivien felt as though she couldn't talk to Royce about; he was her best friend, he was always her first port of call for anything that was bothering her - well, unless it was about something like her period; that was strictly for her mom…

But this was just a question: one that could very well have been asked without another thought had she not attached all the extra weight to it in her mind. And yet here she was, fighting her own tongue, trying to persuade it to recite the script she'd meticulously planned out in her head the night before, because for some reason it wasn't convinced by her promised ability to brush the sentiment off as 'just a friend thing' should Royce take it badly. And neither was her mind, really. 

Realistically though, what was the worst thing that could happen if he had a weird reaction? It's not like a meteor would crash out of the sky and strike them both down or anything, no matter how much she may want it to in the moment - she knew; she'd checked and it wasn't the right time of year for it. The worst that could happen is things might be a little awkward between them for a couple days, right? He wouldn't- 

-Actually, scratch that. Vivien didn't want to think about it. 

"Well, actually…" she began, before she could talk herself out of it any further. 

Vivien felt Royce's gaze land on her the second she stopped to clear her throat, which had become inexplicably scratchy ever since those last words had left it, clearly so reluctant to be said they'd dug their heels in the entire journey out into the cool, October air. And as soon as it did, it felt as though all her sweat glands released at once, adding a glistening sheen to her already crimson skin. Horrified, Vivien kept her gaze on the ground a few paces ahead of her to avoid having to find out if Royce had realised, and pushed her round, silver-rimmed glasses further up the bridge of her nose in an attempt to shield herself from further embarrassment as a result of her thirteen-year-old hormones wreaking havoc in her own body. 

Fearing that the longer she dragged this on, the more her subconscious would betray her, she swallowed her nerves and ploughed ahead. "Do you remember how you missed out on going to watch The NeverEnding Story this summer because you had to spend your ticket money on a new wheel for your bike?"

In her periphery, Vivien saw Royce's hand shift up to play with the fraying fabric of his backpack strap. He only ever did that when he felt uncomfortable. She didn't even have to look at him to confirm it either, the pause before he responded told her almost as much as his tone of voice did. 

"...Yeah, but what does that-?"

"Hey nerds!" 

Despite their disdain for the term, both Vivien and Royce's heads whipped around to try to locate the source of the voice, mentally cursing themselves for even acknowledging that the phrase could have been used to refer to them, let alone responding to it. But as green and brown eyes scanned a sparse sea of middle schoolers, searching for signs of anyone with ill-intent, they came up short. 

"Over here!"

The voice, carried on the wind, drew the pair's gazes to a figure, practically standing on the bench of a rotting, wooden picnic table to try to grab their attention and their disgruntled grumblings fell from their lips within seconds of one another, replaced by fond sighs. 

Bentley waved the duo towards him so spectacularly that, for all they knew, he could have been directing a plane to land. And whilst Vivien couldn't help but smile at the blond's boundless energy, she also couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment with how easily Royce shelved their conversation by letting out an almost relieved: "Duty calls."

"Yeah," Vivien agreed with a forced smile and a breathy, awkward laugh to match his. Although it dropped from her face the second he turned his back to head over to the shaded seating area. 

Once he was a good few paces ahead of her, and she was sure he was out of earshot, Vivien let out a frustrated huff, so hot she was surprised it didn't steam up her glasses. "Goddammit, Bentley," she muttered, shoving her library copy of Wuthering Heights into her backpack as she started trudging along behind Royce. "I almost got through it all that time."

But Bentley was none the wiser to Vivien's grand plans; too excited by his own news to consider that the pair may have been busy. And besides, the easygoing grin his older brother shot him as he approached made him none the wiser. 

"You've gotta come up with something better to call us, Benny," Royce said, fondly shaking his head as he climbed the last few steps of the hill leading up to the picnic table, adorned by Bentley's friends, the contents of at least three up-turned pencil cases, and enough sheets of paper to paper mache a small child. Thankfully, the table was sheltered from the worst of the breeze, so the most that a stray gust could do was flutter the edges beneath the various, makeshift paperweights (dog-eared textbooks and unopened juice boxes) strewn across the splintering surface.

"Why? You are 'nerds'," the boy laughed as he bounced back down into his spot on the bench seat beside August. 

"We are not," Royce protested.

"It got you to come over here, didn't it?" Bentley replied with a cheesy smirk. 

Royce let out a slightly bitter sigh as he fumbled through a response. "Well- yeah, but it's… demeaning." 

"Then why'd you respond to it?" Kona snorted, apparently more focused on selecting the right shade of crayon than bothering to look Royce in the eye as she insulted him. 

The bluntness of the eleven-year-old's comment drew a snort of laughter from him before he could stop it, whether it was in amusement or incredulity though he'd never know. But the smile that threatened to envelop his disapproving frown stayed firmly in place as he said, "Because I'm so used to everyone else calling us it, that's why. And you shouldn't be contributing to the problem anyway; I thought we were all on the same side here."

"You calling us nerds, RJ?" Zack piped up with a challenging quirk of his eyebrow. 

"Pot calls the kettle black," Royce smirked.

"White boy says what now?" Zack retorted with a confused frown that soon gave way to a mischievous grin the second that Royce rolled his eyes and playfully ruffled his hair, insisting through shared laughter that the boy knew what he meant. 

"What are you guys doing up here?" Vivien asked with a breathy laugh of her own as she arrived at the picnic table and caught the end of the boys' friendly roughhousing.

"Having fun until you nerds showed up," Zack scoffed as he shoved Royce's chest in an attempt to get the older boy away from him. But the bubbling giggles that tumbled from his lips as Royce expressed his disdain for the name once more told everyone all they needed to know about how much he enjoyed the brunet's company - proved even further when he resorted to wrapping his arms around his torso and tackling him into a hug from his spot on the bench. 

"Looks like it," Vivien noted with a bemused chuckle. "What's all this then? You writing out your own comic book or something?" she continued, gesturing to the vast collection of paper spread out before the quartet. 

"We're designing our characters for this cool new game Gus brought in," Bentley raved, holding up his sheet of paper for Vivien to see. "Look at my guy, he's got a wand that's disguised as a paintbrush and this magic flute that lets him talk to animals." 

"Damn, Benny, that's so cool," she grinned, marvelling at the artwork with almost as much care as the blond put into creating it. 

"And look, here's the one I'm doing for Gus," Bentley continued, shuffling the papers around until he selected the right one. 

"You didn't want to draw out your own?" Vivien asked the boy, whose sandy blond eyebrows were furrowed in concentration. 

"Nah; Ben's better at art," August admitted, only glancing up from his work to shoot his oblivious friend a shy smile. "And I enjoy the planning part of it more anyway," he went on to explain. "So he's doing the drawing, and I'm filling out his character sheet for him." 

"Yeah, 'cause there was no way I was gonna be able to deal with all that," Bentley snorted.

"This looks like a lot of work for just one game," Vivien noted, inching another piece of paper towards her and finding it covered from top to bottom in meticulously written words, numbers, and the occasional, scribbled doodle. 

"Tell me about it," Kona scoffed. "I feel like we got extra math homework with this stupid number system we've got to work off of," she added with a huff that blew a straw strand of hair away from her eyes. Begrudgingly tapping the open, yellowing pages of an intricately illustrated book with the end of a pencil, she brought the thirteen-year-old's gaze to the table she was drawing from. 

"You guys are willingly doing math over lunch and you're calling us nerds?" Royce asked with a teasing incredulity that earned him further, playful bickering from Zack. 

"So what do you do with all this when you've created your characters then?" Vivien continued, feeling a fond smile tugging at her lips as Royce's unbridled laughter tickled her ears. Fighting the urge to swat the imagined sensation away, she focused her attention on the other children at the table. "What's this dorky wizard math game called?" 

"Dungeons and Dragons," Bentley explained.

Vivien’s ears perked up. “Dungeons and Dragons? That weird roleplaying game Riven plays with his sweaty high school friends?” 

“Who’s Riven?” Kona asked.

“My skating partner,” Vivien said, throwing the explanation away like a used napkin so that she could get back to the main point at hand. 

“Ew, so is he like your boyfriend then?” Kona teased with a devilish wiggle of her eyebrows. 

“No!” Vivien blurted, maybe a little too quickly if everyone turning to look at her was anything to go by. "No, not like… It's just- He's like my brother, ok?" she hurriedly tried to explain, trying to ignore the bile now creeping at the back of her throat the very thought alone had placed there. 

"Ok," Kona snorted, smirking to herself as she caught Royce's shoulders slump in relief in her periphery. Making the ninth-graders squirm was a favourite pastime of hers, and lately, all this girlfriend-boyfriend talk around them, despite making her want to hurl, had been a homerun every time. 

"I didn’t know Riven played DnD,” Bentley piped up, earning himself a grateful smile from Vivien for taking some of the heat off her. 

“Neither did I until he made us switch our practice days so that he could go play pretend with a bunch of dorks out the back of Eddie 'the freak' Munson's trailer."

"Riven's in that weird Hellraiser club?" Royce asked, bushy eyebrow raised in disbelief. 

"My sister says they're all devil worshippers," Zack mumbled.

"It's Hellfire," Vivien corrected. "And they're not devil worshippers - well, Riven's not anyway. As far as I know they're just losers in matching shirts who play make believe like they're still in first grade."

"It's more than just playing make believe," August dared to pipe up with a somewhat defensive frown, immediately toying with the corner of Bentley's character sheet the second the group's attention landed on him. A sideways glance in the blond's direction earned him a reassuring smile that breathed some much needed confidence into his lungs, and as he released it, he said, "There's this whole world you can build your own stories around with all these super detailed characters and a bunch of lore you can discover. I spent my whole weekend reading through the books my cousin gave me and that doesn't even cover half of it. It's like one big choose-your-own adventure story, but everyone gets a say in what happens, and gets to feel like they're a part of it."

A beaming grin and steel blue eyes, sparkling with excitement, found Royce with startling ease. "Doesn't that sound cool?!" Bentley enthused.

"...It actually does," Royce admitted, even surprising himself with his answer. 

"Hear that, Auggie? You didn't even have to mention dragons to convince someone that time," Kona snickered, firing the curly haired boy beside her a smirk. 

"Whatever," Zack scoffed, rolling his eyes. "You thought they sounded cool too," he added with an accusatory nudge of the blonde's elbow that had her cursing him under her breath for making her pencil skim across the page. 

Ignoring his friends' sibling-like arguing, so used to it by now that it honestly would have been stranger to acknowledge it, Bentley kept his attention, and his toothy grin, focused on his older brother. "I knew you'd like it! You're always borrowing those old fantasy books from the library and writing your own versions of them."

"Well- yeah, ok, but what does that have to do with this?" Royce stuttered, cheeks tinged pink with embarrassment despite Vivien's small, amused smile. 

"Well this is just like that! Gus wrote out our first campaign all by himself," Bentley gushed before leaning into the shying blond beside him. "That's like the story, right?" he checked in a hushed tone. And after receiving a confirmatory nod, he turned back to Royce with renewed enthusiasm. "The plot, the monsters, the bonus quests - he came up with it all!" 

Bentley pushed a stack of papers towards his brother, bound by treasury tags and bearing enough ink to have drained an entire pack of ballpoint pens. "Holy shit," Royce breathed as he picked it up and began flipping through the makeshift book, becoming more and more stunned with every turn of a page. "You wrote this whole thing by yourself?" he asked August, who timidly nodded. "In one weekend?" Again, the boy nodded, this time a little more eagerly. And Royce could see why. "...Wow," he marvelled, smiling as he watched the younger boy swell with pride. "This is really impressive, August."

"You put some serious work into this, huh?" Vivien noted.

"Yeah, I guess," August admitted as his steadily reddening cheeks were pulled aside by an appreciative grin. "It's not like I minded though," he went on to hurriedly explain. "It all came together pretty quickly once I got into it. Plus it gave me an excuse to shut myself up in my room away from my stuffy aunt and that stupid dog she carries around in her purse," he added, earning himself a bright laugh from Bentley that completely stalled his train of thought. Luckily, it was nothing that clearing his throat and refocusing his gaze on the blond's character sheet couldn't fix though. "I guess I just thought it would be something fun for us all to do together, you know?"

"Yeah, it sure sounds like it," Vivien said with a warm smile. But there was still a little, nagging thought hammering away at the back of her head, and she feared that if she didn't use this opportunity of an out as her last-ditch attempt at getting Royce alone before the end of the school day then that nagging thought would break right through her skull and puncture her brain with its pesky little pickaxe. And she needed all the brainpower she could muster to get through this, so she did not want to take any risks. "Anyway," she continued, snagging the attention of the table of eleven-year-olds as she clapped her hands together. "We'd better let you guys get back to planning. We wouldn't want to be the reason for you guys delaying your first adventure now, would we?" she asked rhetorically, firing a knowing look across at Royce that was not-so-subtly hidden behind a theatrical grin.

If Royce picked up on the intensity behind Vivien's gaze though, he didn't show it, instead remaining as blissfully oblivious as he always seemed to be when it came to her intentions as he took his turn to offer a fond smile to the table of his brother's friends. "You'll have to let us know how it goes," he said, before adding with a chuckle: "I'm invested now; it sounds awesome."

Breathing out a sigh of relief between her teeth as Royce rounded the picnic table to join her, Vivien kept her almost clown-like smile plastered to her face as she thanked whatever great powers were at work for making Royce ever so slightly more perceptive than the other, gormless teenage boys in their class. But just as she was inching her way back down the hill, and readying her opening line for the brunet once they were out of earshot of the eager little gremlins, one of them piped up with a perfectly pointed pin to burst her bubble. 

"Why don't you just play with us then?" 

Bentley's wide-eyed, hopeful grin was the only thing keeping Vivien from snatching up Kona's muddy jump rope and strangling him with it. Besides the years upon years of sibling-like friendship, obviously.

Forcing out a strained laugh, she managed a tight, "It's alright, Benny, we don't want to crash your fun." 

"You're not crashing anything; we want you to join in. Right, guys?" 

Ok, so Bentley can't read social cues… Good to know. 

It would have made things a hell of a lot easier if Vivien could have known about that before she set the wheels of her master plan into motion though, because right now she felt like they were so out of sync they were about to derail the handcar she'd strapped this grand idea of hers to. But even if she could have brought herself to get mad at Bentley, Zack jumped to the blond's defence before she even had the chance. 

"Yeah, we're gonna need all the help we can get because Kona can't add up for shit and I'm not about to let my guy Omar Scale Crusher die after I've spent all this time working out his stats."

"I can't add up for shit?! What the hell are you talking about? You're the one who got put in Math 2!"

"Only for a week! And I totally got a better grade than you on that test last week."

"No you didn't!"

"Did too!"

"Bite me!" 

As the pair energetically bickered about Zack's accusations, which Kona steadfastly claimed were built on entirely false foundations, Vivien found her frustration with the picnic table occupants crumbling away. After all, they weren't to know that she'd been practising for this lunchtime conversation with Royce for weeks. How could they? The only others she'd confided in were her three skating friends and the balding Big Bird stuffed animal from the end of her bed that had taken on the role of Royce during her many rehearsals. And she couldn't blame them for their excitement over the game either; even she had to admit that it sounded pretty cool. Plus, after hearing Riven rhapsodise about Hellfire's epic campaigns for weeks now, she was starting to get a little curious about the game and how it was played. 

"Omar Scale Crusher, huh?" she eventually chuckled, raising a quizzical eyebrow at Zack that soon ground his and Kona's squabbling to a halt. "How'd you come up with that?" 

"Isn't it sick? Auggie had this big list of names with cool meanings to help us decide."

After shuffling through the endless sheets of paper around him, August found the right one and went on to explain for a very enthusiastic Zack: "Omar means 'one who has a long life'."

"Yeah, so he'd better live up to his damn name! I'm not planning this whole thing out to have him die in the first round," he declared with a hearty laugh, before tagging on: "Plus my uncle's called Omar and he's awesome."

Vivien couldn't help her snort of laughter at the blunt innocence. "Very creative," she noted. "What is he then? Like a viking or something?"

"No, he's a wizard," Zack stated matter-of-factly. "'Cause why would I bother using a sword when I could just kill an enemy with magic?" 

"How come your guy's holding a sword then?" 

Royce's frank delivery, from over the younger boy's shoulder, had a laugh spurting from between Vivien's lips before she could stop it. And Bentley, August, and Kona were all quick to follow suit. 

However, as to be expected, the brash brunet soon scrambled a retaliation. "Well I'd still want one for backup."

"No duh," Kona chuckled as she finished shading in the metallic sheath of the dagger her character clutched in a leather clad fist. "Magic or not, you still need a weapon."

"Is your character a wizard too then?" Vivien asked Kona, but the incredulous snort the blonde let out could have told her all she needed to know on its own.

"No, Andromeda doesn't need to rely on magic to keep herself out of danger; her dexterity's off the charts." 

Before another argument could break out between Zack and Kona as a result of her roundabout dig at him, August decided to speak for the table. "Zack’s our mage, Kona's our thief, Ben's our Bard and my guy's a ranger."

"But you're the dungeon master too, right?" Bentley checked, mischievous blue eyes peeking out from beneath furrowed bows. 

August's own eyes were drawn to Bentley's the second that he'd opened his mouth, but the smirk tugging at his friend's lips was what captured his attention. "What's so funny?" he challenged through a chuckle that coaxed one out of Bentley too. "You don't think I could be a dungeon master?"

"I never said that," Bentley laughed. But the look the boys shared meant they both knew that's what his tone had implied.

"You didn't have to."

"Well can you blame me? It just sounds so menacing and scary. I know you read all those horror books and stuff, but come on, you're about as intimidating as Winnie the Pooh - who, last time I checked, was still tucked under your comforter next to your pillow and your old baby blanket."

Jaw dropped in incredulity, August lightly elbowed Bentley in the ribs. "I can so be intimidating," he retorted. But if he was pretending to be mad at the boy, his true feelings were soon revealed by the smile he couldn't seem to keep off his face.

"Yeah, well, we've yet to see it," Kona bluntly noted, which once again set Royce and Vivien off giggling at the sixth graders. 

"You sound like you've got a pretty well-rounded group then," Royce carried on, drawing the conversation back to August's point from earlier. "Are there even any roles left for us? Or are we going to have to start doubling up?"

"You can double up if you want, but there's still a bunch of classes that haven't been picked yet," August explained, flipping through the large book spread out before him until he got to the right page. "We've not got a druid, a cleric, or a fighter."

"What does a fighter do?" Royce asked.

"Fighters are weapons-oriented warriors, who fight using skill, strategy, and tactics," August recited from his handbook, bringing the group's attention to the detailed illustration of an armoured swordsman, wielding what looked to be an incredibly heavy shield with almost no effort at all.

The second Vivien's eyes met the page she knew it was game over; her imagination kicked into overdrive and tossed all other thoughts about how she could have been spending this lunchtime to the curb. Racing at a million miles an hour, her brain plucked ideas from seemingly thin air and began piecing together a muscular young woman, strong enough to knock an ox clean off its feet in one quick shove, although you'd never know it since her frame was cleverly disguised in roughened leather padding, tarnished silver armour, and rich, violet robes fashioned into a sort of cape. Her face was weathered, but kind, and her vibrant, emerald eyes sparkled with determination, and the promise of adventure. Like the picture in August's book, the woman carried a large, battle-scarred sword by its ornate handle, and kept a hefty shield vigilantly by her side, painted in, again, deep shades of indigo, violet, and the blood of her enemies, naturally. She also had a quiver of arrows slung over her shoulder though, nestled beside a crossbow, just peeking out from behind a head of flowing, chestnut locks. The heroine had no time for preening, so her hair was tousled with grease and grime from combatting the elements on her journeys, but as it fluttered in the wind, it was kept away from her face by intricate braids, weighed down by silver rings and stolen jewels of amethyst and topaz. She smiled at Vivien from the forefront of her mind, as if marking her territory there, and Vivien felt her heart skip a beat as she breathed out a quiet, and hopefully nonchalant: "Hmm…cool."

"That sounds like a good one for you, Viv. Strategy and tactics? You're great with planning stuff out," Royce noted. But one glance in her direction and his face broke into a knowing smile the second he clocked her eyes, glazed over in thought, and lips, parted in awe. 

"Yeah, and look, you'd make a great cleric," Bentley continued, pulling Royce's gaze away from Vivien, albeit reluctantly. Flipping the page of August's handbook, he excitedly tapped at a drawing of a tall man, draped in heavy, fur pelts and bronzed chainmail. A glowing staff was held in one hand, and a massive axe was thrown over his shoulder as though it weighed no more than a sack of flour. 

"Clerics are versatile figures, both capable in combat and skilled in the use of divine magic," August recited from the page after a light, nudge from Bentley. "They're also powerful healers."

"See? That's perfect for you! You're always helping patch us up if we fall off our bikes," Bentley enthused, undeterred by the amused chuckles that his brother unleashed as a result of what he thought was an adorably innocent explanation. 

"Yeah, and we could use a healer on our team, especially with those two and their lack of impulse control," August snorted as he gestured to Kona and Zack, who jumped at the chance to express their indignation. 

As the group of friends returned to jovially bickering amongst themselves, Royce and Vivien's minds were quietly whirring with ideas. Ideas which, upon glancing at one another, they soon realised were all too perfectly aligned. 

"What do you say then, losers?" Kona finally asked once she'd finished fighting her ground against the boys, snapping the eighth-graders out of their heads and bringing them back to reality with a knowing smirk. "Are you playing with us or not?"

Royce, as always, left the decision to Vivien. But the hopeful glimmer in his caramel eyes, paired with her own, itching curiosity made that decision all too easy. And besides, even if she wasn't spending time alone with Royce, she was still spending time with him. And that was good enough for her.

…For now. 

"Well… I guess one game couldn't hurt, right?" she said with a smirk that soon broke out into a grin as Bentley's face lit up like a firework display. And it only grew when she glanced across at Royce for one last confirmation that she'd made the right decision, only to find him beaming with almost as much enthusiasm as his brother. 

If this nerdy little game brought Royce this much joy, and was even half as much fun as it sounded, then Vivien knew it would be worth another few hours of crippling anxiety. Besides, she hoped that she could immerse herself in the story so much that she'd forget all about her predicament with the brunet anyway. But as they took their places at the picnic table, and Royce's sneaker brushing against her shin shot a jolt of adrenaline up her leg with such a force that she almost jumped straight back out of her seat, she knew that that was just wishful thinking. Covering up the brief waver in her cool, confident exterior with a quiet cough, she tried to refocus her mind on the endless streams of information August was unleashing on the pair of them.

"-and so the group our characters all belong to is called The Circle of the Emerald Torches, but part of the first campaign is about how we get our name, so I'll explain more about that later. Before you start, and before I give you your character sheets though, if you want to be in our party then you'll need to recite the Oath of Noble Heroes so that we know you're serious about this."

"Don't worry, we had to do it too. But it's so cool, you'll love it! And then there's a declaration of loyalty for you to sign somewhere too," Bentley tagged on before the boys started animatedly babbling amongst themselves about the ins and outs of their party's rules again. 

Shaking his head at the pair, Royce took the opportunity of them being distracted to lean over to Vivien and teasingly chuckle, "What the hell have you just gotten us into?"

Fighting the urge to roll her eyes at the boy, knowing that his enthusiasm for the game was a major driving factor in her decision to play, and that he was also well-aware of that fact, she looked him square in the face and hid her smirk behind a deadly serious, blank expression, "I'm pretty sure we just joined a cult." 

American History, Volume 2, lay open on page 38. And it had laid there like that for the past 45 minutes, having been abandoned by its current owner almost as soon as it had been removed from their backpack. Because instead of completing the assigned history homework, the desk's occupant was using their study hall period much more wisely: by shredding a solo, courtesy of Ozzy Osbourne, on possibly the most prestigious instrument of all: the air guitar.

Ethan's eyes slid shut, and a blissful smile curled his lips as he mashed the volume button on his Walkman with practised ease. Bar after bar of 'Crazy Train' pounded through his skull at a staggering volume, rattling what little of his brain was left in the mostly vacant space between his ears, helped along by the bopping of his head in time with the song's beat. When his fingers weren't plucking out riffs on imaginary strings, they were banging out the drumline on a drum kit that was just as real as his Gibson SG. And all the while, he was passionately miming the lyrics for his audience of the pencil shavings and dust mites that hugged the wall beside his desk. 

He felt the music in his bones. The bass line pumped through his veins. Every note that was played resonated through the chambers of his heart until it felt like the song was as much a part of him as his left arm. And the deeper he let himself sink into the music, the less aware of his surroundings he became - or the less he cared to remember them anyway. Until a sharp elbow to the ribs shattered his rockstar illusions, that is. 

Bleary brown eyes met earnest, steel blue, and held nothing but confusion for the several seconds it took him to realise that Miles’ mouth was moving without making a sound. 

“What?” Ethan bellowed, prying a wailing headphone speaker away from his ears as he leaned closer to the exasperated brunet. 

“Jesus, man!” Miles exclaimed under his breath as he reached across to his friend’s Walkman to frantically turn the volume down. “Are you trying to blow your eardrums out or something?” 

“That would be pretty metal, so maybe,” Ethan chuckled, entirely unphased. But Miles’ disapproving frown soon had him rolling out an explanation. “You’ve got a front row seat for my biggest show yet and you’re choosing to lecture me about volume control? I can care about my hearing when I’m in the retirement home.”

“You’ll be lucky if you make it to a retirement home," Miles snorted. "You've got the survival skills of a two dollar house plant."

Instead of arguing back, or even rolling his eyes at his best friend's dig, Ethan just continued chuckling along in agreement as he slid his headphones down to rest around his neck - still blaring out Ozzy Osbourne's vocals, although they were only just audible over the hubbub of chatter and laughter that filled the rest of the classroom. "What were you saying before anyway?" he went on to ask. "Did you want something?"

"Yeah, the answer to number four."

"Pfft, you think I've even made it past one?" Ethan guffawed, astonished and highly amused that Miles thought highly enough of him to assume he hadn't been shirking his responsibilities all afternoon. "I've got no fucking clue. What chapter are we on again? Abraham Lincoln?"

The mix of despair and disbelief Ethan was faced with when he glanced back across at Miles told him his guess might not have been as accurate as he'd pitched it to be. "...Are we not on Abraham Lincoln?"

"We haven't done Abraham Lincoln since freshman year," Miles deadpanned before letting out a chuckle of his own. "When was the last time you actually paid attention in one of Mr Bishop's classes?"

"Probably freshman year," Ethan noted with a laugh, slumping back in his seat and starting to rock on the back two legs of the flimsy, plastic chair. "I think the only chance I've got at retaining any of the information in that textbook for this month's pop quiz is if I eat it."

The look of reproach Miles shot the carefree stoner could have fooled any passerby into thinking that he was the boy's father, but he blamed that on the past however many years of having to act as a sole parental figure for two young boys - who, on several occasions, had actually proved to be far more mature than the lank-haired brunet before him. More often than not, Ethan felt like a third child he had to keep alive. And somehow, his lack of height was not one of the driving factors behind that reasoning.

"Oh come on, don't give me that look," Ethan groaned, ever the resentful teenager in their relationship. "You've not exactly been Mr Studious yourself today."

"What are you talking about?" 

"Well you've been stuck on that same question for the last twenty minutes 'cause you keep making goo-goo eyes at you know who," Ethan smirked as Miles' eyes widened in horror and his forehead started to prickle with sweat. 

"No I don't," he indignantly tried.

"I thought you said you were over her," Ethan teased.

"I am! It's not like that anyway," Miles muttered, then added. "And it's not been twenty minutes."

"It totally has."

"How the hell would you know? You've been listening to Motorhead since we sat down."

"Yeah but my fuckin' eyes still work," Ethan snorted, hitting Miles with a loving grin that had him rolling his eyes before Ethan had even finished his sentence. And yet, the boy's frustration did nothing to deter him from probing further. "What's the stalking for this time then? You know, if you're not trying to get in her pants anymore." 

Miles was at as much of a loss as Ethan. His eyes found the head of bouncing, blonde curls with almost no effort at all (likely a result of an entire study hall period of practice), searching for some sort of answer. But all he found was a dull, fluttering in his chest. 

Even the giddy, lovestruck butterfly that had been trapped in there for months seemed to have admitted defeat. 

Still, his gaze never wavered. He watched airy laughter spill from her glossy lips, and her nose crinkle beneath brilliantly blue eyes, framed by thick, black lashes and copious amounts of mascara. Whilst before, Miles could have eaten through a movie theatre's entire popcorn supply and still want to look just a little longer, in that moment he just felt empty. And that’s when he realised it wasn't actually Carrie herself that was occupying his mind, it was everyone else around her, and how she was treating them. Plucking a proudly presented flyer for a house party from one, impishly teasing another, waving at Sharon Frye on her way out the door, firing a flirty wink in jest at Steve Harrington after giggling at one of his jokes…

Miles was certain she'd looked at every other person in that room at least once since their study hall period had begun, and yet the closest her eyes had ventured over to him was when she glanced at the clock on the wall. Every thought in his head was plagued by her smile, or her voice, or her laugh… Had he ever even crossed her mind? 

"Do you think she actually cares about us?"

Miles hadn't been able to bring himself to tear his forlorn gaze from the blonde in question, but that didn't stop Ethan from snorting out an answer. "Well yeah, I'd hope so; we spend enough time with her." 

"Not by choice," Miles huffed. 

“Well she talks to us now, and that’s more than we could have said before we worked with her, so that’s got to count for something,” Ethan chuckled. “But if this is about what I think it’s about, then she absolutely cares about you, dude. Like way more than the rest of us.”

“You really think so?” 

“Dude, it’s like you two are glued at the hip. I can’t get you away from each other for shit once we close every night,” Ethan replied. And when Miles still looked unsure, he added, “Why else do you think I always get stuck cleaning the kitchen with Mick? She hates my guts!”

“No she does not,” Miles softly chuckled.

“Well I definitely don’t think she likes me, not like Carrie likes you anyway,” he retorted with a smirk and a wiggle of his eyebrows. “I’m telling you, man. There’s something there. There’s no way she’d laugh at your crappy jokes like she does if she didn’t at least have a little interest in you - I don’t care if Mick thinks it’s bullshit, I know I’m right.”

Miles just rolled his eyes, but a hopeful smile desperately pulled at his lips, no matter how many times he tried to dismiss it. “I don’t know, I think she probably just does it to be nice,” he mused, watching as Carrie animatedly responded to Rachel Price before turning back to resume her conversation with the girl sat beside her - the very girl that Miles still had an irrepressible urge to swap lives with: Juliet Harmon. Now faced with nothing but the back of her head, he quickly lost interest in the view. “…She seems to act like that with most people.”

“She definitely does not, man. Why do you think the entire marching band is scared to look her in the eye? She’s like one of the biggest bitches in school,” Ethan scoffed. But he paused when he realised Miles wasn’t laughing along with him. “Why does it matter how she acts around other people anyway?” 

“It doesn’t,” Miles huffed. “…Not really.” 

But the second he dared to make eye contact with his oldest friend, the floodgates opened and the truth came tumbling out. 

“I just…feel stupid for letting her get in my head, and for actually thinking that we had something special - that I was somehow different to all the other idiots who throw themselves at her to get a second of her attention. But here I am, thinking about her constantly, hanging onto every interaction we have like my fucking life depends on it, only for her to… Ugh, I don't know. I just…don't want it all to not mean anything to her, when it means so much to me - no matter how much I try to convince myself it doesn't. I mean, yeah, she's nice to me at work - really nice - but she barely even acknowledges me outside of All Skate… It's like I don't even exist, like she doesn't even realise I'm there. And it makes me feel like shit."

"She barely acknowledges anyone," Ethan absentmindedly mused. "I wouldn't take it personally."

"That's a lot easier said than done," Miles huffed dejectedly. There was something freeing about Ethan's nonchalance over Miles' feelings though; it made them feel less suffocating. And whilst he still felt entirely hopeless about the situation, he did feel a little bit of the pressure ease off as he rested his chin on his hand and let his mind start to wander. "...You think she actually considers us friends?"

"Sure; she calls us her work friends all the time."

"No but like her actual friends," Miles clarified. 

"Dude, I don't fucking know; the female mind is a mystery to me at the best of times, but hers is on a whole other level," Ethan scoffed in incredulity. "Do you not remember that like thirty minute debate I had with her about diet sodas? Actual insanity.”

Miles' quiet chuckling as he reminisced about what had started as an innocent question, yet progressed to a full-blown screaming match, with each participant equally as confused and frustrated as the other, was soon silenced by Ethan's next prompt though. "I know a way you can find out though…"

"...No!" 

"Oh come on, man. Don't be a sissy. It'll be so easy. And then you can stop getting hung up on all these bogus hypotheticals."

Miles' initial horror slowly dissipated as Ethan's reasoning started to lure out a far greater force from its hiding place in the corner of his brain: his curiosity. "...You really think I can just go up and talk to her? In class?" he asked, as his eyes once again found that jumble of golden curls. 

"Sure, why not? It's only study hall." 

Again, Ethan's nonchalance, which was only heightened by the fact that he was trying to balance a pen on his curled upper lip as he responded, did far more for Miles' confidence than any pep talk of his own could have. And besides, maybe he was onto something - maybe it really was that simple; it always was in his world. 

"It wouldn't be weird?" Miles double-checked. 

"Why would it be weird? All you're gonna do is talk to her. And we already established you two are friends, so what could go wrong?" 

Miles shuddered at the very thought. "So much."

Ethan glanced across at him, ready to fire out further encouragement like a sixth grader with a penchant for making spitballs, but when he clocked his friend's nervous fidgeting, he reconsidered his situation and gained a little clarity. "Ok…yeah, fine, stuff could go wrong. But are you gonna die?" he proposed.

"No," Miles begrudgingly mumbled.

"Are you gonna break something?"

"No, but-"

"Then how bad can it be?" Ethan cut in with a lopsided, optimistic grin before Miles could tie himself up in any more self-conscious knots. "Just get over there and scratch that itch that's been bugging you for weeks; it's not gonna stop until you do. And you'll feel so much better after."

It took Miles by surprise every time it happened, but yet again, it seemed as though Ethan might actually be…right. This question of Carrie's loyalty had been eating away at him for weeks now. And, as he'd stressed earlier, it was making him feel shittier and shittier with every day he let it drag on. Asking her outright was a definite way to get his answer… It was just going to require him growing some balls, as anything to do with All Skate's resident disc jockey apparently made his own shrink to the size of peas.

"...Just walk over and talk to her?" Miles checked. Although, between us, he was just stalling to give himself more time to muster some courage.

"Yeah, as a friend," Ethan confirmed. 

"You really think I can pull that off?" Miles asked with a dubious, but hopeful quirk of his eyebrow that had Ethan melting like a bomb pop that had been left out in the 4th of July sun.

"Absolutely," he grinned, totally enamoured by his friend's giddy trepidation, and the promise of a relationship he so steadfastly defended. "She's got a major soft spot for you, man. I see it like every night," he went on to reassure. "There's no way she's gonna blow you off. You'll be fine."

And as a result of that dopey grin, complemented by the ratty, chestnut locks, and vacant, dark chocolate eyes… Miles believed him. 

"...Ok, I'm going in," he breathed through a determined smile. 

"Atta boy," Ethan chuckled, fist-bumping Miles before tipping his chair back onto all four of its legs again, as though to signal the resolution of their predicament. "Go scratch that itch," he added, finishing their little handshake with a bolstering point before lifting his headphones back over his ears and disappearing back into his wildest rock star fantasies - totally oblivious to the disaster about to unfold right behind him as Miles took a deep breath and waded into the wild, uncharted waters of the female mindset. 

"So now that we know that y=7, we plug that into this side of the function, that we've already simplified, to give us this…which then means that we can carry this over here, giving us x=3." 

…Silence.

"Right?" Juliet checked, although the satisfied smile that had settled on her carnation pink lips as soon as she finished the sum was beginning to falter into one of desperation as she turned to her tutee. "Did you follow along ok that time?"

But all Juliet was met with was a glassy stare and an infatuated grin, smushed between two fists as its owner rested their chin on their palms. "You're so smart, Julie," Carrie breathed. 

Juliet just rolled her eyes, although she did little to hide the bashful blush tickling her cheeks. “Never mind that, did you understand how I worked it out that time?” 

"...Kind of?" Carrie tried, offering a lopsided, hopeful grin to try to lessen the blow.

If Juliet's exasperated huff was anything to go by though: it didn't work. But her frustration dissolved the second that she met Carrie's gaze. "Where did I lose you?" she asked with a gentle, patient sigh. 

"The whole reversing the function bit," Carrie admitted as she bit her lip and braced herself for Juliet's reaction. Although the blonde's expression never wavered, the dismay that flashed in her eyes soon had Carrie barrelling through an explanation. "I swear I was getting it before that this time, but then it all started to sound like you were talking in another language, and then I got distracted by that pretty way you write out the 'x' again, and then I just…"

"...Stopped listening all together?" Juliet teasingly offered with a fond smirk.

Carrie scoffed in mock-defence. "No, I listened the whole time, I just stopped taking it in," she went on to clarify. But as soon as she drew a giggle from Juliet's lips she melted into that same infatuated grin from earlier as she admitted, "I'd never stop listening to you. You know I could listen to you talk for hours."

"Even about algebra?" Juliet teasingly tested with an affectionate smile of her own. 

"Of course about algebra," Carrie gushed with a glittering honesty that soon had Juliet giggling again. "Believe it or not, this is the most I've ever understood a math module," she carried on, straightening up in her seat to help give her point a little more credibility, before tagging on a jovial, "And it's all thanks to you, smarty pants."

"Would you stop calling me that? It's so lame," Juliet protested, hiding her smile behind a frank eye roll. "And besides, I'm not that smart." 

"You so are; you're like the smartest person I know," Carrie gushed, never one to let her friends downplay their successes, much to Juliet's disgruntlement. The blonde's frown didn't deter Carrie from continuing to lovingly babble straight through her stream of consciousness though. "That brain of yours has to be huge - no wonder you get headaches all the time, it's because it doesn't have enough space in there."

Carrie's knack for making herself giggle never failed to make Juliet smile, but yet again she found herself trying to cover it up with a bashful roll of her hazel irises as she let out a sigh and attempted to get their conversation back on track. "You wanna try another question then?" 

"Don't try to change the subject," Carrie fired back with a mischievous grin. 

"I'm not, you are!" Juliet retorted, biting back an incredulous laugh. "We're supposed to be doing algebra, not Juliet 101."

Carrie's mischievous grin only broadened. "Now that's a class I might actually get an A in."

Rolling her eyes for the third time at her best friend's antics, Juliet teasingly tried, "What? Not an A+?"

"Maybe," Carrie smirked. "But then again, I might get distracted by my teacher." Her wiggling eyebrows soon had Juliet reprimanding her and attempting to draw her focus back to her school work, but Carrie's mind was already wandering off too far down a different path altogether. "...Do you think you'd ever wanna be a doctor, Julie?" 

The comment, that fell slap-bang in the middle of Juliet's offer to rewrite the steps of the previous algebra equation, baffled her into silence - so taken aback by the suggestion that she almost thought she'd misheard the golden-haired girl. "What? No," she spluttered, looking at Carrie as though she'd just sprouted a third nose. "Where did that come from?"

Juliet's confusion didn't seem to faze Carrie though, because her dreamy smile stuck it out through her whole, rambling explanation. "I don't know, I just figured you should use your big brain for a job one day. You know, like one that actually actually makes you think instead of just like a working a cash register, or stacking books or something. And you need to be super smart to be a doctor, so…"

Juliet was quick to shoot down Carrie's optimistic grin. "I do not have what it takes to be a doctor, trust me."

"Sure you do," Carrie defended. "I'd let you be my doctor."

"Oh well then hand me my diploma," Juliet sarcastically replied, once more fondly rolling her eyes and chuckling at her best friend's enamoured stare and incessant bolstering. 

"I'm serious," Carrie pressed on though, determined to get through to Juliet despite her doubtful smirk. "I'd trust you with my life, you know I would. I'd let you save my life any day of the week," she grinned. But, after giggling to herself and absentmindedly twirling her pencil between her fingers, when she finally latched onto Juliet's hazel gaze again, only to find it significantly less jovial, it was her turn to express her confusion. "What? You don't believe me?" she teasingly challenged, with a quirk of an eyebrow. 

But Juliet still didn't seem to be in the mood to joke back, as her lips fell in line with the horizon and her gaze darted to Carrie's right before finding her again. 

Ok, now Carrie was really confused. 

"Huh?" she murmured, clearly not as in tune with her best friend's thoughts as she assumed she was. 

However, this time, Juliet flicked her eyes to Carrie's right with a touch more resolve, and paired it with a slight, but very purposeful nod of her head in the same direction. And finally, Carrie seemed to get the message. 

Following Juliet's line of sight, Carrie turned to look over her shoulder, only to find herself face to face with a person that almost caught her off guard as much as Juliet's sudden shift in dynamic had. "Oh," was the first word to jump from her lips, startling her back into what Juliet lovingly dubbed as 'show-mode' as she rolled her shoulders back and fixed a brilliant smile to her face. "Hey, Miles."

The second that Carrie acknowledged Miles, any confidence he'd managed to trick himself into conjuring fled. And whilst he had a Herculean urge to do the same, he too plastered what he hoped was a convincing smile to his face as he finished his approach to the blondes' shared desk. "Hey, Carrie," he said, breathing a sigh of relief for even managing to get the words out. And yet, he still pushed a little further to add, with a nod of acknowledgement too, "Juliet." 

The entertained smirk that started pulling at the corner of Juliet's lips in response caught him off guard, and he felt his stomach gently clench in defence. But he chose to ignore it, returning his gaze to Carrie's bright smile - its familiarity putting him back at ease and igniting that usual fire in his chest that sent warmth spreading throughout his- 

Wait, why was she turning back around? 

"Right, where were we?" Carrie said, dazzling Juliet with a grin as she readied her pencil on the page. "I've got a good feeling about this next one; I think if you just take it slow-."

"Ahem," Juliet interrupted. Her gaze caught Carrie's once again and held onto it for a beat before she tilted her head forwards, signalling with her eyes that there was still something - or rather, someone - behind her. The confusion, almost disbelief, swimming in Carrie's eyes made Juliet have to bite the inside of her cheek to stop herself from laughing, and locking onto Miles' look of bewildered dismay just made it even harder. But luckily, Carrie was quickly able to decipher her visual message once again, with little prompting this time.

Turning around to find that, to her surprise, Miles hadn't just been greeting her as he passed by her desk, he was, in fact, standing there - well, expectantly shuffling from foot to foot anyway - Carrie remounted her smile. Although now, Miles realised, it wasn't so welcoming. It felt almost…uncomfortable.  

"Oh, sorry. Did you want something?" she offered. 

He did - desperately so. And yet, he felt as though the sudden shift in tone had already started to write out his answer. 

The hairs on the back of his neck started to twitch as the walls of his stomach steadily closed in tighter. But, determined to stand by his heart, and prove to himself (and Mick) that his feelings weren't all built on fantasies he'd created in his head, he brushed the unease away and stood his ground. "No, not really. I just thought I'd…stop by…see how it's going."

Carrie's smile faltered again, giving way to further confusion. "...See how what's going?"

"...Study hall?" Miles said. But the response came out as more of a question than an answer, which he supposed was down to the fact that he wasn't even sure of it himself. And despite his hopeful grin, which he feared was now looking more like a grimace, he couldn't seem to stop trying to rub the growing discomfort from the back of his neck. 

God, he hoped that he didn't have any sweat stains. 

"Oh, uh, it's going fine," Carrie politely replied. Although her awkward fidgeting with her pencil's eraser told a different story. "We're just going through the algebra homework."

It was weird; it wasn't as though the conversation was making her seem 'off', it was like…the very fact he was talking to her was so distracting she couldn't settle. She was the centre of Miles' universe. And apparently he was just an asteroid in hers: a misshapen hunk of space rock, hurtling past in the blink of an eye, and completely blindsiding her with his very insignificant existence. 

A fellow asteroid must have collided with him at some point, because he could feel this weird twinge in his chest, by his heart, almost as though the impact had chipped a corner off. He swallowed thickly, pushing the creeping discomfort away. "The one for Mr Moreno's class?" 

"Mhm," Carrie confirmed with a nod. 

"Oh, nice…" Miles trailed off with an awkward chuckle and what he feared was now looking like a rather desperate smile. And he was sure his expression only got worse when his gaze was pulled off-course by Juliet, who gave him a look that made him want to give up altogether. How her hazel irises had managed to harness the ability to hiss 'you are totally blowing this' in his ear, he had no idea. And yet, the urge to prove her (and everyone else) wrong gave him the motivation to plough on. "Well, if you still need any help with it later, I don't mind going through some of the answers with you at wo-"

"It's alright," Carrie bluntly cut in, slicing out a chunk of Miles' self-esteem as she did so. "Julie's got it covered," she added, turning to dazzle the blonde with a brilliant grin. 

By the time that grin made its way around to Miles though, it felt cold. And it seemed suppressed, like she hadn't really wanted him to see it. What he feared was the beginnings of a smirk were tugging at the corners of her lips too. And whilst he wanted to believe that it wasn't at his expense - some cruel inside joke the pair of blondes had whispered with their oh-so talkative eyes in the second that Carrie's back was turned - something in the pit of his stomach told him otherwise. 

"Thanks though," Carrie lazily tacked on, with a brightness in her tone that just felt hollow to Miles now. 

"No problem," he breathed. But there was a problem, and he was staring right at her.

Miles tried to find it in him to mean the smile he sent her, but he just couldn't. Somehow, what was supposed to have been a simple conversation between 'friends' had left him feeling more insecure than ever. Why was she so difficult to talk to? And was she making it so difficult? If they'd been at All Skate, cleaning the rink after their shift, he'd have had no trouble talking to her - their conversations flowed like the Mississippi River when it was just the two of them. And yet here, he felt like he was trying to coax water out of a rusty garden tap in the peak of a summer drought. 

He couldn't find the words to piece together what he wanted to ask - he didn't think such a sentence existed, not one that he could construct anyway. Carrie seemed hellbent on getting rid of him, which did nothing for his creeping fear that she was only nice to him at work because she had no other option for company. And the damn heat radiating from Juliet's pitying smirk had so much sweat running down his back he contemplated running to the nearest bathroom to wring out his underwear. 

And somehow, those glittering, sky blue eyes of hers still threw him a line - a glimmer of hope to cling to. After all, she'd surprised him before - countless times - maybe she'd be able to do it again.

Just as Miles was moving to open his mouth to try one last time though, he was beaten to it. 

"Was there anything else you wanted? Or was that it?" 

Any hopes of a redemption for the blonde were snatched from Miles' grasp, and the reality of it felt like a punch to the gut. Thoroughly deflated, he accepted his fate with a heavy sigh. It may not have been the outcome he wanted, but at least he had an answer now, and there was a silver lining to that, he supposed. 

"...No," he breathed through a forlorn, but relieved smile. "That was…that was all."

Miles felt he must have imagined the concern that flickered in Carrie's gaze - wishful thinking, he supposed - because the airy giggle and laidback grin she flashed him certainly didn't marry up with it. "Oh, alright then. See you later!" she chirped with a wave as he started the walk of shame back to his desk. Again, just as he was turning back to offer a farewell of his own though, she managed to get her words in first. "Don't forget your thick socks."

Miles stopped in his tracks. Now he was more confused than ever. The cheeky glint in her eyes, the knowing smile, the reference to a throwaway joke from their closing shift last night… Everything he'd just come to terms with about her vehement disinterest in him had been called into question with those five, simple words, and a wink that just about made his heart stop.

…Maybe she did really care after all. 

With his heart leaping up from its dejected slumber, Miles shot her a grateful smile and chuckled an earnest, "I won't." Breathing out a contented sigh, mind already racing with ways to talk to her about this more that evening, Miles finally felt his shoulders relax as he raised the hand that had been rubbing the back of his neck his whole time. "See you la-"

Nevermind, she'd already turned around to talk to Juliet again. 

Again the brunet was flummoxed. The only thing he felt truly confident about as he slunk back to his desk was the very thing he'd been warned of before wading into that mess: the female mind was a mystery. And he had never felt further from figuring it out.

Turning back to Juliet, Carrie couldn't help but shake her head and chuckle under her breath. "That was weird," she noted, tilting her head in the direction of her retreating co-worker.

But Juliet's eyes had never left the bumbling brunet. "Mmm… He's kind of cute," she mused. Although her prompting smirk was lost on her tutee, since her sapphire gaze was immediately pulled to the back of Miles' head.  

"Yeah." Carrie's breathed response fell from her lips with startling ease, so much so that it even surprised herself. Hoping to catch it before it slipped into Juliet's ears though, she shook the starry-eyed gaze from her head and scrambled together a cover-up. "Uh, yeah? I can try to set the two of you up if you want. You know, put in a good word at work and stuff." 

If she expected Juliet to accept her optimistic offer with open arms though, she was soon proved wrong.

"Yeah something tells me he's not interested in me," she snorted.

Carrie looked at her, perplexed. "What are you talking about? Why wouldn't he be? You're like a total babe."

"Oh come on, Carrie. Please tell me you know that he's got a major crush on you," Juliet said with an almost disapproving frown. "Like major major."

Carrie scoffed at the accusation. "It's not major," she tried, rolling her eyes in a further attempt to downplay the gravity of what Juliet was implying. 

"Carrie," Juliet pressed as she knitted her brows. "The guy could barely speak."

Caving under the blonde's hardened gaze, Carrie let out a resentful huff. "Ok fine, so he's got a little crush," she finally conceded. "What's so bad about that? It's not like anything's gonna happen; he knows I've got a boyfriend."

"Mhm… And what does Eric have to say about Miles?"

Carrie rolled her eyes so hard Juliet thought for a second that they might never come back down again. "Why does it matter?" she groaned, her skin prickling with irritation. 

"Well he's not exactly got the best track record when it comes to being understanding about you hanging out with other guys," Juliet sighed, with a sneaking suspicion that her tutee's frustration had been triggered by the mention of her boyfriend's name alone: a welcome sign that their relationship was as healthy as ever. Not.

Carrie scoffed as a bitter scowl settled into place. "It's not like I'm 'hanging out with him', we just work together. I barely talk to him during my shift anyway, only when we're clearing stuff up at the end."

"Oh yeah?" Juliet started, curiosity piqued. "And what happens then?"

"Nothing!" Carrie insisted. "We just talk - you know me, I can't keep my mouth shut even when I want to, so of course I'm gonna talk to the guy." Letting out a sigh to try to blow off some steam, she softened under Juliet's gaze and allowed the blonde to lead her through her haze of thoughts. And if Juliet's gentle nudge in the right direction wasn't already enough to do the trick, one glance at Miles' retreating form completely burst the dam. "We've been talking for like the whole last hour of every shift since I started - about school, movies, whatever really - it's like the only thing in that dump that's worth sticking around for. I kind of just did it because I was bored out of my mind at the start, but turns out he's actually really fun, and sweet too - you wouldn't believe some of the stuff he does for his little brothers, Julie; I've literally gone and cried in the break room before after he was telling me about it. It's that cute." 

"You cry at everything," Juliet countered with a fond, teasing chuckle. 

"Oh come on, not everything," Carrie retorted. Naively hoping that their conversation on the matter had ended there, she let her eyes settle on Juliet's again, only for them to inch open the floodgates once more with a simple bat of her lashes and a tilt of her head. "We just talk and…goof around," she tentatively began - defensive, despite her nonchalance. "You know, make each other laugh about weird things customers have said, or stupid things we did. It's not like we're fooling around or anything. And before you say it, because I know that face: no, I am not leading him on. It's all totally platonic, I swear."

"Ok…" Juliet softly trailed off, taking a moment to choose her words before raising her next point. "Does Miles know it's all 'totally platonic'?"

Carrie let out a groan of despair, as she always did when her best friend lovingly lectured her. "I don't know, Jules. I'm not a mindreader. He's not grabbed my ass or spiked my water bottle, if that's what you're getting at," she grumbled, before promising, "I've got it all under control, I swear."

Somehow, Juliet didn't seem to be buying it; as impervious to Carrie's confident charm as ever. 

"So Eric's totally chill about this whole thing with Miles?" she tested, arching a perfectly plucked eyebrow.  

"He knows I work with him…" Carrie mumbled.

Juliet nodded understandingly - almost too understandingly - in Carrie's periphery. 

"...And does he know how he makes you feel?"

Daring to challenge Juliet's calculated point with ignorant defiance, Carrie whirled around to meet the blonde's smug expression with a gasp of indignation, and an argument that fell away the second she realised that she didn't have a single word in her head to back it up with. Admitting defeat, she sighed and let her body slump, along with her hopes of her vindication in her best friend's hazel eyes. "Ok, yeah, fine. I know Miles has a crush on me," she confessed. Although the guilt laced into her words steadily morphed into hurt the more she tried to defend herself. "And yeah, I do lean into it sometimes because it makes me feel good about myself. Is that really so bad? Is it such a bad thing to want someone to be extra nice to you for once? Or to give you some positive attention?" 

"No, of course not," Juliet assured, assuming a fierce determination of her own. "I just think your boyfriend should be able to do all those things and more, and clearly he's not."

Carrie sighed, exhausted by the very thought of him. "This isn't about Eric."

Juliet sighed back, exasperated by her best friend's submissiveness, especially when she was usually so domineering. "How can you still want to defend him, Carrie?"

"Because, I love him, Julie," Carrie replied, finally finding the contented smile the thought of him should have immediately slapped on her face. "And because he's a good guy."

"Really? Because he's been nothing but a dick to you lately," Juliet flatly countered, hoping that with a little pushing her friend would see sense. 

"We've just had a couple of arguments, it's not a big deal," Carrie casually defended. "And they're all resolved now, so I don't know what you still have to complain about."

"Just because you had make-up sex does not mean that the problems were resolved," Juliet rolled her eyes before fixing the golden-haired girl with a more earnest look. "Did he actually apologise this time?"

"We talked it out first-"

"Did he apologise?"

Carrie squirmed under Juliet's gaze before muttering a reluctant, "No."

"Ugh," Juliet groaned, rolling her eyes again as she wound up to unleash a rant she'd been working up to for weeks. But, to her dismay, Carrie's defences beat her to it.

"Neither of us did, really. We just agreed to forget it and move on."

"How is that resolving anything?" Juliet asked with an annoyed frown that Carrie was starting to take personally. 

"Well I hadn't thought about it until now, so it must have at least kind of worked," she attempted to justify. 

But Juliet's nettled scoff told her that her stance on the matter wasn't budging. "You and Eric might as well speak two different languages; I've seen a pig and a fly communicate better than you two." 

The comment drew a giggle from Carrie's lips before she could stop it. "Don't try to distract me with your cute, Southern lingo," she said as the amused smile settled on her face and she affectionately bumped her friend's arm - the act bringing both their tempers back down to Earth. Before Juliet could launch into another lecture though, Carrie hoped to diffuse the situation once and for all. "Anyway, we worked it all out and everything's back to normal," she said. Although Juliet's questioning glance made her correct herself, "Better than normal. In fact, we're going to go look for Halloween costumes together this weekend," she finished with an optimistic grin. 

Now that was an improvement. For the first time since they'd sat down, Juliet found herself pleasantly surprised. "The Barbie and Ken costume's back on? I'm impressed. You two really must be getting along." Knowing how excited Carrie had been about the idea, she couldn't help but smile at the prospect of it finally coming into fruition. 

"Oh no, the Ken idea's long gone. I think he's going as a firefighter or something now."

Juliet's optimism shattered in a split second, and yet she stayed frozen in place, mouth hanging open in disbelief. "...You're kidding, right?"

"No, but I don't really mind. I'll just find something else to go as," Carrie sighed through a small, indifferent smile. If she'd spotted the disgust hidden in Juliet's eyes after her last revelation, she chose to ignore it. "It'll be fun getting to plan out my own costume anyway; I've got so many more options now. And plus, the Barbie one was only gonna be a pain in the ass to-"

"You're not even doing a couples one?" Juliet asked, far too concerned with what she was learning to care about hearing out Carrie's excuses. 

"He thinks couples costumes are lame," she explained with a huff. "Or at least that's what Adam told him anyway. He said he wanted to just do his own thing."

"But Carrie, you've been excited about doing a joint costume with him for like a whole year."

"So?" Carrie asked, with an eyebrow quirk of her own, shoving the accusation aside as though she was kicking an ice cube under the refrigerator. "It's just a dumb Halloween party, it doesn't matter what we wear; everyone will probably be too drunk to even pay attention anyway."

"Yeah, but it matters that he doesn't care about stuff that's important to you. He never has, and it's selfish, Carrie - super selfish…" Juliet trailed off with a frustrated sigh, praying that she might finally get the ditzy DJ to see sense. "You need to stop defending his shitty behaviour."

"And do what?" Carrie mumbled, unknowingly giving Juliet just what she wanted: a chance to unleash her anger with the infantile blond bozo and the mockery of a relationship he had roped her best friend into.

"Hold him accountable," she urged, hazel eyes blazing with passion. "Relationships should not have to revolve around making excuses and placating your partner with blow jobs - it's a fucking joke. I don't care about all the 'good times' you guys have, or all the memories you've made; the way you've been treating each other lately is appalling, and you deserve way better," she said, pausing to let Carrie absorb everything she'd just thrown at her before delivering the finishing blow. "And I know you know that too, because you're already looking for it in someone else."

Carrie's blood stilled in her veins. Sometimes it scared her how deeply Juliet understood her, and other times it felt comforting. This was not one of those times. 

She took in a slow, shuddering breath as Juliet's words seeped into her skin, carrying a deep sense of guilt with them. As much as she wanted to denounce Juliet's observations and stand by her own, joyously declaring her undying love for her boyfriend at the top of her lungs…her mouth made no attempt to move from its crestfallen frown. It couldn't, because she knew she was wrong. 

The despondency in the blonde's vacant, blue eyes soon drew Juliet down from her soap box though. This time she approached with a gentle, almost apologetic, smile as she entwined their fingers and began rubbing circles into the back of her tanned hand with the pad of her thumb. "I just want what's best for you, Car," she quietly promised. 

"I know," Carrie murmured, mustering a grateful smile as she squeezed her hand back, as though to say a 'thank you' her mouth wasn't quite ready to commit to yet. "I'm fine, Julie, I swear," she went on to profess. But when she started to get a sneaking suspicion that the statement wasn't all that convincing, she decided to switch up her tactic. "Now can we please get back to algebra?" 

The genuine laughter that tumbled from Juliet's lips was music to Carrie's ears. "There's a sentence I never thought I'd hear you say," Juliet chuckled as she picked up her pencil again. 

"I'll do anything to get us talking about something else," Carrie admitted with a woeful chuckle of her own. "And besides, I think I've got a better chance of wrapping my head around this than anything to do with my love life at the moment."

"Boyfriends suck, huh?" Juliet snorted with a knowing smirk.

"Try all boys suck," Carrie countered with a smirk of her own, at last feeling as though some of her signature confidence was leaching back into her frame. Although the pair's giggles took a few seconds to die back down, a mischievous glint remained in Carrie's eyes before she let them glaze over in thought. Mind idly wandering down untrodden paths, a wistful sigh escaped alongside a rogue proposal. "Wouldn't it make life so much easier if we could take them out of the equation altogether?"

Carrie was too lost in thought to notice, but the words that left her mouth forced an entire systems reboot in Juliet's brain. She had to do a double take, certain that she must have misheard her, or had at least missed the joking undertone. But no, the glassy, pensive blue irises held nothing but sincerity. And that confused Juliet more than ever. Her mind whirred with possible explanations for the brainless musings that definitely didn't sound as though they came from a girl in a committed, heterosexual relationship, but before she dared to question her on any, a tanned hand, the size of a frying pan, pulled her prospective interview subject right out of her seat. 

Carrie's eyes widened as she was whisked into a pair of cotton-clad arms the size of tree trunks, hardly able to catch her breath before it was being exchanged for someone else's. A faintly stubbled smile pressed into hers several times before she fully regained her bearings and was able to catch the frying pan hand from travelling too far south of her waist. "Eric," she giggled once she finally managed to inch their lips far enough apart to mumble a greeting against his skin. A subsequent flurry of kisses kept her from elaborating any further though. It was a wonder they didn't pass out from lack of air. 

"Hi, beautiful," he eventually greeted with a smitten grin. But their lips didn't stay apart for long as the dopey quarterback seemed hellbent on keeping his coated in his girlfriend's saliva. "You have a good study hall?" he mumbled, nuzzling his nose against hers. His roaming fingers shattered any hope of his interest in her life being genuine though.

Even if Carrie had wanted to answer Eric's question, his tongue was shoved so far down her throat she couldn't get her words out. "Eric," she finally gasped, jerking her head back from his with a breathy laugh as she felt his thumb start to lift the hem of her cheerleading skirt. "You're gonna get us both detention." 

"I can't help it," he chuckled, pulling her back towards him for another seemingly endless stream of kisses. "I missed you." And whilst a stupefied grin played at his constantly interlocking lips, something didn't feel quite right with Carrie. Her kisses were lazy, almost reluctant, and whilst her body normally felt like putty between his palms, today it felt…stiff. She seemed distracted. And because Eric's head was only ever swimming with thoughts of her, this worried him. "Hey," he gently prompted, nudging her chin with his knuckle to bring her gaze up to meet his. "Everything ok?"

Carrie's breath stuck in her throat, too scared of getting caught in the crossfire of two sets of brown eyes to dare to leave. Eric's sat beneath a pair of thick, furrowed brows, marred with insecure concern, and she could feel Juliet's boring holes into the back of her skull, begging her to remember everything they’d just spoken about. Tensions were high in her usually spacious brain - thoughts flying back and forth too quickly for her to make sense of as she tried to let her conscience guide her in the right direction. And although she felt herself inching towards a blonde ponytail-bolstered confession, her conscience's valiant efforts were all for naught. Carrie's fingers found purchase in the bristly blond hairs at the nape of Eric's neck, her cheeks were dusted in the scent of spearmint and the sweaty must from his football helmet. The profound warmth of his embrace seeped into her bones, and she curled up into it like a cat in the glow of fireplace embers - helpless to resist. "Everything's great," she promised, drawn in by the comfort of familiarity. "I just missed you too."

Disappointed, but not surprised by her best friend's decision, Juliet sighed as she tore her gaze away from the stomach-churning couple and began gathering together her and Carrie's things. She'd get through to her eventually, she had faith in the pit of her steadily grumbling gut. She just needed to be patient…or to find something that could drive a wedge between them once and for all.

"Ethan!" 

The pint-size pothead almost jumped out of his skin at the barked greeting, which actually felt more like an accusation than a 'hello'. He didn't know what was more offensive, the girl's tone or the fact that she'd interrupted his concert-for-one. 

"Jesus, Mick! You scared the shit outta me!" he cried. 

Rolling her eyes, Mick let go of the headphone speaker she'd had to pry away from Ethan's ear after he'd blatantly ignored her fifth call of his name, letting it thwack the side of his head. The look on his face as he recoiled in bewilderment did have a faint smile tugging at her lips though. But it soon disappeared when he slumped back in his seat and readied himself to tune her out again. 

Moving to stand in front of his desk, Mick didn't give him a chance. "Where's Miles?" 

"What?" Ethan squeaked.

"Where's Miles?" she reiterated, crossing her arms across her chest and nodding at the empty seat beside him.

"He's talking to Carrie," he revealed with a blasé wave of his hand in the vague direction of the pair.

Even with AC/DC blasting through his headphones, Ethan swore he heard Mick's face crack.

"He's doing what now?" she demanded, flames roaring in the mahogany logs that made up her irises. 

"He's just asking her something, it's no big deal," Ethan said - although his attempts to reassure the brunette were ham-handed at best given his lazy grin and total lack of concern. 

This was further backed up by Mick's growing urge to strangle him. "Can I not trust you to do anything?" she hissed. 

"What did I do?" Ethan squawked in indignation.

"Nothing - that's the problem! All you had to do was keep his mind off her-" 

"I don't know what fucking mind-control powers you think I've got, Mick, but that was a bogus plan in the first place."

"Oh so what? You just weren't gonna go along with it at all?" Mick scoffed. "I just said to try to keep him distracted."

"And I tried, so I don't know what you're getting all pissy at me for," Ethan retorted. "What's so wrong with him talking to her anyway? I thought 'working through your feelings' was supposed to be a good thing."

Scowling at him for using her own advice against her, she snapped, "Talking to her is not helping him distance himself from her." But when her eyes scanned the room for that familiar mop of coffee brown hair, the sight it settled on made her heart drop to her collegiate green Campuses. "And neither is a run-in with Eric Brennan."

Trailing back to his seat, muttering to himself about the mystifying female mindset and what the hell all of that could have meant, Miles soon realised he wasn't looking where he was going when he collided with what felt like a wall of meat. 

"Shit, sorry," he muttered.

When he looked up and saw who it was that had almost knocked him off his feet though, he realised his assumption hadn't been too far off.

"Woah, watch it, man," Eric guffawed.

The amused twinkle in his eye, and the smirk that blossomed as soon as his gaze landed on him, made Miles' stomach twist. Something told him that this interaction wasn't going to be nearly as quick as he'd hoped. 

"Miles, right?" Eric went on to ask, eyebrow cocked in recognition. 

"Uh, yeah," Miles stammered, although he was more confused than concerned at this point. 

"Why you in such a hurry, bud? You got somewhere to be?" he continued, a charming smirk still sitting proudly on his chiselled jaw. 

"I'm just going back to my seat."

"Oh yeah?" Eric probed, steadily turning up the pressure. "And why were you out of it?"

Miles immediately regretted the exasperated huff that fell from his lips, but he couldn't help his frustration. "Why does it matter?" 

To Miles' surprise, the jock didn't snap back at his remark - there was no sign of meat-headed defensiveness at all. Instead, the guy just laughed. "It doesn't," he reassured with a jovial smile. "I just thought I'd ask 'cause, you know, from here it kind of looked like you were going over there to talk to my girlfriend." 

Any relief that jovial smile had filled Miles with steadily leaked out as Eric's words sunk in. "I was just asking her about our work schedule," he explained with a careful, albeit tight smile of his own. 

"Yeah?" Eric tested.

"...Yeah," Miles confirmed. Although he could feel his bravery slowly shrinking under the hulking weight of Eric's arched eyebrow, he stood his ground, hoping that a nonchalant tone and a set of squared shoulders was enough to convince the dopey blond.

"Oh well, that's a relief," he said with another booming guffaw. Miles' wishes were seemingly granted as the warning smirk slipped from Eric's face, replaced with a laidback grin. "There I was thinking you might have been trying to make a move on her or something."

Miles managed to eke out a chuckle, more at his own expense than anything. "I wouldn't do that, man," he promised through a freshly starched smile. "I know you're both very happy together."

Eric's shit-eating grin must have been powered by at least three AAs with the way it lit up his face. "That we are, my man," he proudly proclaimed. "And that's good to hear 'cause I know you spend a lot of time with her at the end of your shifts, and she says you two get along super well, so I'd hate to think that you were getting the wrong idea or-"

"Not at all," Miles assured, cutting the blond off before he could drive the knife any further into his chest. Fixing a plastic smile to his face to cover up the wistful sigh that escaped between his teeth, he delivered an admittedly painful, "We're just friends."

Eric's rich brown eyes seemed to scan every inch of Miles for any sign of a lie before he proceeded, and the brunet's lack of acting skills left him squirming like a worm on a hook as a result. But the satisfied grin that soon surfaced, dropping the tensed shoulders to help it rise, told Miles the quarterback probably needed an eye test. 

"Good," Eric said with a contented sigh. "'Cause you and I both know that it'd be stupid to think anything else, right?" he went on to cockily taunt. "Like, no offence, but she'd have to be fucking insane to choose you over me… Right, Miles?" 

Although his ego was severely bruised, to save his face from meeting the same fate, Miles forced himself to maintain a smile, albeit reluctantly. "Right," he confirmed.

"That's what I thought," Eric smirked, finally satisfied that Miles had taken enough of an emotional pounding if his lazy grin and affectionate arm bump was anything to go by. "Alright, nice talk, bro. I might catch you tonight if I drop by to see her, ok?"

"I'll be there," Miles verified with a strained sigh. Finally daring to drop his gaze from the sturdy blond, he made his escape without so much as a goodbye.  

Apparently Eric thought he could take a little advice on the road with him though. 

"Remember, watch yourself, Murphy," he hollered.

But the words didn't even register with Miles, because the swift shove between his shoulder blades was so jarring his entire focus was dragged to keeping himself upright. 

Miles kept his eyes trained on the scuffed linoleum as he hastily lumbered back over to his desk, cheeks burning with self-hatred as he tried to push Eric’s no doubt smirking face out of his mind. It wasn’t until he heard a familiar voice that he finally dared to lift his head again. 

“Are you ok?” Mick asked, expression overrun with an almost frantic concern. “What was that about?”

“I’m fine,” Miles brushed off, retrieving his threadbare backpack from its spot, slumped on the floor in one swoop. Haphazardly shoving the books from his desk into the main compartment, he mumbled a quick, “Can we just go?” 

But Ethan’s glassy-eyed intrigue held him firmly in place. “Yo, what happened, man? Did he bust you for flirting with her?” 

“No,” Miles sighed, wearily shaking his head at the stoner’s excitement. 

“Did you flirt with her?” he pressed. 

"No, I just- ugh," Miles huffed, quickly giving up on trying to explain the situation he didn't even fully understand himself. "It doesn't matter. Let's just go."

"I told you to just forget about her," Mick sighed. 

"Yeah, well, that's a lot easier said than done, Mick," Miles retorted, returning her disapproving frown with a defensive one of his own. 

"Did you at least get some closure?" Ethan offered as he rose from his desk - partly from curiosity, partly to try to prove a point to Mick. 

Whilst Miles' tongue instinctively prepared to shoot Ethan's optimism down, his brain jumped in to tell it to hold fire. And after a few, brief seconds recalling the interaction, his answer soon changed. "Actually, I kind of did," he admitted with a chuckle of incredulity. 

"You gonna try to talk about it more with her tonight then?" Ethan asked, smirking to himself at Mick's look of disbelief. 

"Fuck no," Miles snorted with a nonchalance that took both of his friends by surprise. "I just want to forget it ever happened- just…move on."

"From her?" Mick asked, trying to hide the hopeful edge in her tone with a gentle smile.

Sparing the blonde in question one last glance over his shoulder, only to catch the tail end of her and Eric getting pulled up for their excessive PDA by their (up until now) entirely uninterested study hall supervisor, he let out a wistful sigh. A chorus of voices swelled in his head - Mick's, Ethan's, Carrie's, Eric's - each one telling a different side to the same story. He couldn't have picked one to listen to if he'd tried. So, in the end, his own took over, steering his heart down a path that promised the least damage in the long term, and that Carrie's indifferent dismissal of him had already forged in his mind. "...That's the goal."

[wormzandgutz]

Well you could always just say they’re a lot closer than friends if ‘couple’ is too strong but ‘platonic’ or ‘queer platonic’ isn’t enough

Okay yeah yeah but here's the problem...

They aren't

[kaktus-tajam]

Cara Terbaik Membalas Jasa Guru

Assalamualaikum warahmatullah wabarakatuh dr. Detty.. apa kabar dok? semoga dalam keadaan sehat dokter & keluarga🙏🏻

Terima kasih banyak inspirasi dokter selama ini, terutama percakapan dengan dokter di Melbourne saat 2019. Mungkin dokter lupa namun bagi saya sangat berkesan, sebagai murid yang saat itu sedang exchange namun berkesempatan berdialog bahkan jalan-jalan dengan dokter Detty.. belajar banyaak hal saat itu.

Saya hendak memberi kabar baik dokter, insyaAllah saya akan melanjutkan studi S2. Alhamdulillah saat ini sudah diterima di Harvard Medical School dengan beasiswa LPDP. Mohon doa restu dan nasehat dokter..

Setelah beberapa hari lalu mendapat letter of acceptance dari Harvard, aku mengabari beberapa guru dan dosen. Salah satu dosenku yang kuhubungi adalah dr. Detty Siti Nurdiati, MPH, PhD, SpOG(K).

Beberapa jam kemudian, ada pesan masuk.

Ternyata beliau sedang berada di tanah para Nabi, bumi yang diberkahi Allah. Tanah Syams: Palestina.

“MasyaAllah Tabarakallah. Saya merinding membacanya. Doa terbaik saya untuk dr. Habibah dari tanah para nabi yg diberkahi Allah, Palestina”

Beliau kemudian menambahkan:

Aku yang jadi merinding.

Kilas balik ke 2019 ketika dirizqikan berjumpa beliau di Melbourne tanpa sengaja. Allah memang pembuat skenario terbaik. Saat jauh di negeri seberang justru bisa bertemu secara eksklusif, karena di kampus kami terpisah oleh kesibukan. Hanya dapat mengagumi Director of Cochrane Indonesia ini di kelas, saat lecture-lecture beliau.

"Dulu saya bela-belain menjadi asisten dosen untuk 3 departemen, demi menghidupi diri saat kuliah."

Sore itu, sambil menysuri St. Hilda Beach diiringi angin kencang, Allah mengajarkanku tentang kegigihan.

Kegigihan dr. Detty meniti pendidikan. Dengan latar belakang keluarga beliau yang kurang mampu, dokter Obgyn ini harus berjuang dengan beasiswa sejak bangku sekolah.. hingga S3.

Jadi asdos satu departemen aja berat, ini tiga. Batinku.

Setelah lulus menjadi dokter, beliau mendapat beasiswa dari Dikti untuk studi S2 di Swedia. Maka setelah menyelesaikan program wajib kerja 5 tahun sebagai obsgyn, beliau berangkat. Ternyata, setelah lulus.. beliau ditawarkan melanjutkan S3 oleh pemerintah Swedia.

Wah semangat sekali ya beliau sekolah terus.. MasyaAllah..

Awalnya beliau enggan karena harus meninggalkan anak-anak di Indonesia untuk periode waktu yang panjang. Namun berbekal ridha suami, beliau akhirnya mengambil tawaran tersebut.

Suami saya justru yang memotivasi saya. Kata suami saya: kesempatan tidak datang dua kali.

Alhamdulillah selama perkuliahan beliau diizinkan untuk pulang ke Indonesia dan menemui keluarga. Tidak hanya sekali, dua kali: 4x! dan itu semua dibiayai.

Beliau tersenyum sambil berkata,

Mungkin jarang yaa saat itu, ada seorang wanita, berjilbab pula, yang mau sekolah jauh-jauh (di tempat yang musim dinginnya -44 derajat Celsius).

Maka saya disekolahkan, tanpa harus ada tanggung jawab moral dan syarat mengabdi ke pemerintahan Swedia. Alhamdulillah.

Ternyata dengan niat yang baik, Allah mudahkan beliau mengikuti banyak courses di kota lain di Eropa (Geneva, London, dll.) secara cuma-cuma, selama studi S3 tersebut.

Kami terus mengobrol bahkan ketika di atas tram (kereta listrik di Melbourne). Aku sungkan dan canggung. Maklum, ini kali pertama aku belajar networking. Hehe. Apalagi dengan prestasi dr. Detty yang luar biasa. Minder sekali.

Namun.. beliau adalah dokter yang keibuan, rendah hati dan bersahaja. Terbukti dari hangatnya beliau menyimak cerita-cerita recehku tentang exchange hehe..

Wah, alhamdulillah ya dek masih muda sudah bisa dapat banyak pengalaman di luar negeri. Saya jadi ingat, pertama kali saya berangkat ke luar negeri. Saat itu saya kuliah semester 3. Saya diminta mewakili Indonesia untuk konferensi di Bangkok. Saat berangkat di bandara Adisucipto, saya diiringi seakan saya hendak berangkat haji.

dr. Detty tertawa mengenang ramainya keluarga dan dosen (dosen-dosen legendarisnya FK UGM) yang melepas kepergian beliau saat itu ke bandara. Memang di era tersebut, masih sedikit sekali orang Indonesia yang dapat berangkat ke luar negeri. Apalagi dengan ekonomi keluarganya saat itu.

Pertemuan itu membekas sekali. Aku terharu, juga tertampar. Ya Allah, banyak hal yang perlu kusyukuri. Banyak privilege yang Allah berikan padaku. Hari itu aku membatin, ingin mensyukuri nikmat ini dengan terus menuntut ilmu. Dengan terus mencari ladang amal yang bermanfaat untuk ummat. Hari itu terbersit di hati (dari Allah): semoga bisa bersekolah lagi, jika memang studi tinggi dapat meluaskan kebermanfaatan diriku.

Beliau satu dari sekian banyak guru-guru yang berjasa dalam hidupku.

Seorang kakak dulu mengingatkanku: jasa guru dan dosen tidak akan dapat terbayar,

Maka cara terbaik membalas jasanya adalah dengan mengamalkan ilmu yang diberikannya. Cara terbaik membalas jasanya adalah dengan mendoakannya. Doa agar Allah melipatgandakan kebaikan untuknya dan keluarganya.

Maka jika sekarang aku berdiri di titik ini, tidak lain dan bukan adalah akumulasi dari jasa banyak sekali manusia. Hanya Allah-lah yang dapat membalas kebaikan mereka, keikhlasan mereka.

Selamat terus bertumbuh, merely standing on the shoulders of giants.

-h.a.

Saya tidak pintar, namun saya dibiasakan dan dimudahkan mengamalkan satu amalan ketika saya belajar. Dari kecil, saya selalu belajar dalam keadaan berwudhu.

-dr. Detty Siti Nurdiati, MPH, PhD, SpOG(K)

Mohon doa untuk guru-guru kami..

[forgetmenotsassenach17]

Last line(s) meme

Thrilled that @flyinghome-againstthewind tagged me in this, mostly because I’ve never had anything to share until recently and now I get to!

This is from the still untitled thing I’m working on. The story has marginal plot and a lot of fluff. As of right now, it’s from chapter 6. Sharing the last few lines I wrote because we all deserve some cuteness.

Adso came waltzing into the room, walking right over to where they were sitting.

“There ye are, ye wee menace. We have company and ye just now come to greet her? Did I teach you no manners?” Jamie asked the cat as he picked him up and set him on the couch between them. Adso immediately took interest in Claire, climbing on her lap and rubbing his face against her sweater.

“Allow me to introduce Adso,” Jamie said as Asdo made himself right at home, curling into a ball on Claire’s lap.

“What a pleasure to meet you, Adso,” Claire cooed while rubbing the cat’s ears. “Aren’t you such a handsome boy?”

Jamie could not keep the smile off of his face as he watched Claire happily chat away with his cheetie.

Tagging no one because I don’t follow a lot of folks on here and if I do, they have already been tagged. But share if you want to! ♥️

[arabic-langblr]

hi there! may I ask if you could share some examples of filler words/phrases in Levantine dialects (like 'well', 'you know', 'I mean' etc are used in English)? thanks so much; your blog is so helpful!

Hi anon!

Thank you for your kind words! I'm happy you find my blog to be helpful!

Alright, I'll tell you a list of filler words and interjections from the top of my head :

خَلاص (ẖalās) or alternatively خَلَص ẖalas

This one is very popular filler. I know many non-Arabic speakers who incorporated this word to their daily vocabulary. Literally it means that's it or it's enough, it's used as a filler.

خَلَاص قٌلْتِلُّه / ẖalas oltello / that's it I told him مَهُو خَلاص عرفنَا / ẖalas ʿrefnā / ummm... that's it we know.

مَا هُو mā hou ( alternatively pronounced as مَهُو ma hoo)

It's similar to خلاص, it means "that is", I personally use it a lot especially when there's a long justification or a story to be told.

يَعْنِي yaʿnī

This means "it means" but it's used like the fillers "like" and "that is" are used in English or even "ummm". I think this one has the best potential to be a versitile filler. For example : يَعْنِي... مَا بعَرِف شُو قَصدُه / yaʿnī .....mā baʿref šū 'asdo / um.... I don't know what he meant كَان قَصدي- يَعْنِي- عَن المَدْرَسِة / kān ʾasdī -yaʿnī- ʿan el madraseh / I meant... uhhh ... about school

أصْلًا aṣlan

This means "originally" but can be used as a filler especially when someone is being defensive. أصْلًا مَا بدي/ aṣlan mā beddi / it means "I didn't even want it" أَصْلَا عَاديَ / aṣlan ʿādi / when said angrily it means something within the line of " I didn't even care" or "hmph! whatever"

يوووو عاد Yō ʿād or ييييي عَاد Yeeee ʿād

Ok this one is hard to translate so I'll give the context. When saying one of these two, or sometimes خَلاص عاد ẖalās ʿād, you're expressing you're anger at something annoying that is really repetitive. Like someone is nagging at something again or a problem keeps re-occurring. Basically you're being impatient and expressing how annoyed your are. عَاد literally means "he came back" or he returned in MSA, but it's used as an interjection or filler in dialects

ييييييي Yeeee / يييي عَلينا ʿaleina or Yeee

These are used like "oh no" or "oh my goodness" For example if someone remembers that you remember that the cake was still in the oven even after they left the house, they will probably yell "yeeeee" after face palming

أوف off

this is used when you hear something that exceeds your expectations. For example you anticipated that the dress was for 40 $ but it's for 400$, you would say "offf" and then walk away. Sometimes "off" is also used to express distaste or being bored

[hofstadt3r]

asdo aayou wanat a slobotsomy asin may garfege at? 6:36(/))/)/)/)/$am?????

yes, definitely, absolutely !!!

[plasterdrain]

hujan di bulan juni.

“ada-ada aja hujan bulan juni gini, udah malem juga, gue nggak bisa pulang…” juni, sama namanya dengan bulan yang harusnya sedang kemarau, tapi malam-malam ini malah semesta milih turunkan airnya di depan kampusnya. sungguh, tinggal sebentar lagi ia bisa tidur nyaman di kasur kesayangannya. dan sekarang malah terjebak di sini sendirian. udah malam, kalau ada hantu gimana… jujur juni nggak takut sama hantu lebih takut kalau ada orang sinting yang lewat di lingkungan kampus. 

“iya, bentar… nanti gue nyusul kok.” 

seenggaknya mereka di situasi yang sama, menunggu hujan depan lobi kampus yang sepertinya belum akan reda dengan cepat. bisa-bisanya sekarang sudah pukul delapan, juni harusnya berbaring di kasur empuknya, sibuk memikirkan sarapan pagi nanti. 

“kak juni…” itu namanya. “bener, kak juni. kok sendirian kak?”

“habis asdos tadi, mau pulang malah keburu hujan.”

“oh…”

“aku lupa bawa payung. terus kamu kenapa? bukannya udah ada yang nungguin? maksudku—nggak sengaja dengerin kamu tadi ngobrol, di telpon ‘kan.” salahkan dirinya kedinginan, makanya gugup seperti ini. 

“nggakpapa, sama kalau gitu, aku nunggu reda dulu.”

“oh, okay—”

“view, seni rupa ‘22. kak juni sendirian ‘kan? aku temenin ya.” jujur, juni nggak masalah TIDAK bawa payung kali ini, kalau ditemani seseorang. yang seenggaknya buat dia merasa aman, hanya tinggal mereka berdua depan kampus, mungkin beberapa orang dalam lobi.

“kok kamu baru pulang sekarang?”

“telat ngumpulin tugas.” masih dengan juni yang terjebak hujan di kemarau ini, sama seperti dirinya yang belum tahu ingin mengucapkan apa. tapi beruntung ditemani view, jadinya tidak sendirian. “kak juni udah punya pacar belum?” yang sekarang hampir tersedak dengan pikirannya sendiri. saking berisiknya. 

“hah? belum??” sebuah nada tidak terjelaskan. 

“b—belum?” balik bertanya dengan juni. salahkan dingin kalau dia gugup sekali lagi. 

“belum punya, maksudnya.”

“oh, ada niatan pengen punya pacar? aku nggakpapa kalau kakak sibuk.”

“aku?” juni kali ini tidak salah dengar meskipun hujan makin lama, dan makin deras juga tidak menutup kalimat yang barusan dilontarkan view, nggakpapa. berulang-ulang sampai mereka saling menukar tatapan mata. 

juni ingat ini pertemuan mereka pertama kali yang berdua. bukan saat ospek, bukan saat juni mengurusi seminar yang dibuka fakultas, atau bukan saat juni harus mengurusi acara fakultasnya yang didatangi orang-orang. ini pertemuan mereka pertama kali dengan empat mata. 

“kak juni manis, kalau bingung kayak kelinci, lucu.” 

pelan-pelan, view. beruntung mereka sedang berdua saja, tapi juni kepalang bingung, masih menunggu hujan reda tapi resah sekarang, bukan karena view. karena dirinya sendiri. “aku harus jawab apa?”

“nggak perlu jawab apa-apa, aku cuma pengen bilang kak juni itu lucu. maaf—”

“kamu nggak salah. tapi makasih, jarang aku dibilang lucu. seringnya dikatain pendek.”

“kakak mau pulang bareng nggak? aku bawa payung, terus aku anterin pulang, kita lanjut pdkt-nya.”

“view…” juni tidak masalah kalau soal payung, kenapa sih harus gadis ini yang buat jantungnya meluncur ke lutut. serius, tapi harusnya tidak perlu dipikirkan terus-terus. “tenang, view. kamu antrian nomor satu saat ini.”

“berarti banyak yang pengen kakak.”

“pengen, kamu kira aku apa?”

“orang cantik banyak yang suka.” terasa cepat begitu kalimat itu terucapkan, seperti sudah ada di ujung lidah, seperti view sudah tahu apa yang akan juni ucapkan. yang juni tahu, gadis ini menatapnya lekat, tinggi mereka lumayan sampai-sampai juni mendongak sedikit dengan payung yang sudah terbuka di atas kepalanya. 

“ya.. ya… kalau kamu yang bilang seperti itu.” helaan nafas panjang kembali dicekat dengan gandengan tangan yang view lakukan. “stop ngagetin bisa nggak?”

“hehe, sori.” cengiran lebar, sepertinya juni tidak salah kalau kehujanan berdua. “serius aku anterin pulang…”

[itsrahadianmau]

(2) Drama Awal

Tiba-tiba. Itu yang bisa ngegambarin gimana gue bisa ngaku pada diri sendiri kalo gue suka sama feli. Datang begitu aja, tanpa permisi. Itulah cinta. Tanpa sebelumnya gue minta dan gue sadari. dan mungkin juga sama seperti orang-orang lainnya, jatuh cinta bikin kita sering melamun, mengkhayal tentang orang yang kita suka. Terkadang, lamunan ini yang bikin waktu gak kerasa berlalu begitu saja. Gak kerasa, sekarang udah masuk november 2011. Mungkin kurang lebih udah sebulan ini, feli pake bb. Dan mungkin kurang lebih udah sebulan ini gue sama dia jadi sering bbman. Dan dalam waktu kurang lebih sebulan ini, feli udah sukses bikin gue jatuh hati, walaupun rasa itu muncul lewat percakapan bbm di tiap malamnya. Secepat itu, dan setiba-tiba itu. Meskipun gue dengerin curhatan nya dia tentang kecengannya yang entah siapa itu, anehnya gue malah jadi suka sama dia. Padahal gue tahu siapa yang sedang dia suka. Itulah sedihnya jd seorang gue saat ini. Mencintai diam-diam. Secret admirer. It must be really sucks to be who I am right now. Di bulan november ini, yang artinya udah masuk masa akhir-akhir semester. Di semester tiga ini, ada mata kuliah gue yang mengharuskan gue sama anak-anak sekelas buat pergi kuliah lapangan (fieldtrip) ke daerah pesisir. Dosen nyuruh kita sekelas buat pergi fieldtrip ke daerah pelabuhan ratu di sukabumi. Rencananya di sana kita bakal pergi selama 2 hari 1 malem buat praktik mengambil sampel air laut buat dianalisis di laboratorium dan mewawancarai nelayan tentang hasil laut daerah setempat. Sebenernya acara fieldtrip ini bisa dibilang jadi acara liburan sambil kuliah nya anak-anak kelas. Dan emang hampir di tiap akhir-akhir semester, pasti ada mata kuliah yang mengharuskan kita buat fieldtrip. Inilah salah satu istimewanya jurusan ilmu kelautan. Seperti semester-semester sebelumnya, untuk acara ini kelas gue harus bikin panitia buat ngadain acara ini. Dan seperti semester sebelumnya juga, gue ambil bagian dalam susunan kepanitiaan acara fieldtrip pelabuhan ratu kali ini. Waktu semester satu yang lalu, angkatan gue pergi fieldtrip ke pangandaran, dan gue jadi seksi konsumsi. Kali ini gue ngajuin diri jadi koordinator seksi logistik. Tugas gue sebagai koordinator logistik ini mesti nyiapin bus, penginapan, sampe alat-alat yang bakal dipake buat acara fieldtrip ini. Belum lagi gue mesti survey lapangan sebelum hari keberangkatan acara. Tapi ternyata, setelah gue survey lapangan bareng aryo, akung, regy, jadul, alde, reza dan seorang asdos ke pelabuhan ratu, gue malah suka jadi koordinator logistik gara2 survey itu yang artinya gue bisa jalan-jalan di pelabuhan ratu pas survey. Beberapa hari sebelum hari keberangkatan fieldtrip ke pelabuhan ratu, gue dapet amanat dari dosen buat minjem beberapa peralatan laboratorium untuk keperluan fieldtrip nanti. Lalu alat-alat ini gue titipin di kosan aryo. Dan akhirnya tiba juga tanggal 27 November 2011, hari keberangkatan fieldtrip kita. Kita berangkat tengah malam karena jarak dari kampus gue di jatinangor ke pelabuhan ratu cukup jauh. Ketika kita semua udah berada ditengah-tengah perjalanan, ada asisten dosen yang nanya tentang kelengkapan alat-alat praktikum, gue baru keinget ada alat-alat yang tertinggal di kosan nya aryo.Tapi begonya, baik gue sama aryo gak ada yang keingetan alat yang ditaro di kosan aryo itu. Dan alhasil, gue diceramahin dosen gara-gara itu. Gak cuma sampe disitu, waktu bis kita udah ngelewatin kota sukabumi pada dini hari, entah tiba-tiba kenapa bis yang kita naikin berhenti ke pinggir jalan. Setelah itu, sopir dan kenek bis nya turun. Gue yang penasaran, ikutan turun nyamperin supir sama kenek nya. Ternyata bis nya mogok. Ya, bis yang kita tumpangin ini mogok, dan waktu menunjukkan kira-kira pukul empat pagi. Sopir bis dan kenek mencoba untuk mencari tahu kerusakan bis nya, sedangkan gue gak tahu mesti ngapain. Apes kuadrat. Pertama, alat-alat ketinggalan gara-gara keteledoran gue. Sekarang, bis mogok. Dan bis ini gue yang milih travelnya, dengan kata lain tanggung jawab gue juga. Alhasil kita semua nunggu bis selesai diperbaiki sambil melaksanakan shalat subuh di masjid yang kebetulan terletak dekat dengan berhentinya bis kita. Gak lama, kenek nya ngobrol sama gue. Dia bilang, bisnya bisa dibenerin untuk jalan sampe pelabuhan ratu tapi dia mau menelepon kantor travel nya, untuk minta dikirim bis pengganti. Gue menyetujui. Gak lama setelah semua beres sholat subuh, kita ngelanjutin perjalanan ke pelabuhan ratu. Akhirnya rombongan kelas gue nyampe di pelabuhan ratu sekitar jam 7 pagi. Kita langsung menuju lokasi praktikum lapangan. Setelah sarapan sebelumnya, kita langsung praktikum lapangan buat ngambil sampel air di sekitar pelabuhan. Kita sekelas dibagi menjadi beberapa kelompok, yang disebar utk ngambil sampel air di sekitar pelabuhan. Saat itu, gue sekelompok sama feli. Ini semua termasuk rencana gue, karena gue sendiri yang ngatur pembagian kelompoknya. Tapi ada randi juga yang sekelompok sama gue. Gue pikir dia bakal seneng kalo bisa sekelompok sama feli, makanya dia gue masukin ke kelompok ini. Setelah semua kelompok sudah mengambil sampel air di lokasi yang berbeda-beda, siang harinya kita check in di salah satu hotel disana. Kita istirahat sampe sore, sebelum pengambilan sampel dan bersih-bersih pantai. Waktu istirahat ini malah dipake sama anak2 buat main basket di lapangan yang ada di belakang hotel. Dan gue pun ikut main basket 3on3 sama randi, alde dan lain nya. Ternyata feli dateng nyamperin kita yang main basket dan pengen ikutan. Alhasil dia ikut melengkapi permainan 3on3 saat itu. Setelah dibagi tim, ternyata gue berlawanan sama feli. Itu artinya, gue mesti seengganya marking feli, cewe satu2nya yang ikut main. Gak lama kita mulai main. Ada saat gue mesti marking feli yg lagi keeping bola. Gue ngerasa bener2 canggung ketika mesti berhadapan 1on1 sama feli. Gue sendiri emang gak jago2 amat main basket, dan sebenernya gue lebih suka futsal dibanding basket. Mungkin itu juga yang bikin gue bisa2nya nyundul tiang basket waktu gue sma dulu. Setelah berpeluh keringat hasil main basket. Gue sama anak2 cowo yang lain langsung nyemplungin diri ke kolam renang hotel. Mungkin ini gara-gara suhu di pelabuhan ratu saat itu cukup panas, kita berasa ga bisa ngediemin kolam nganggur begitu aja. Setelah merasa cukup basah-basahan, gue dan yang lain kembali ke kamar buat mandi. Gue waktu itu milih sekamar sama randi, ardi, aryo. Ketika itu anak2 lagi pada kumpul ngobrol-ngobrol. Entah apa aja yang kita bicarain, tiba2 regy ngebahas feli, dengan sedikit bercandain randi. Intinya regy manas-manasin randi buat berani nembak feli di depan anak-anak kelas. Randi nerima "tantangan" dari regy. Gue yang ada disitu ketawa dengan yang lain, padahal dalem hati gue tau apa jawaban feli Kalo sampe randi nembak feli nanti malem. Setelah itu, kita kembali ngelanjutin praktik lapangan di pantai yang terletak di depan hotel tempat kita menginap hingga senja hari pun usai. Malam harinya, anak-anak seksi acara fieldtrip udah nyusun acara makan malem yang dilanjutin barbeque dengan menu utamanya seafood hasil laut pelabuhan ratu. setelah makan malem dengan nasi kotak dari katering yang udah dipesen sebelumnya, anak-anak mulai nyiapin apa aja buat barbeque. Semua anak-anak udah kumpul di lounge yang juga gabung sama kafe hotel buat acara barbeque ini. Ada yang sibuk bakar-bakar, ada yang ngobrol-ngobrol, ada juga yang asik nyanyi sambil diiringin gitar kaya gue dan yg lain. Dari jauh, gue ngeliat feli yang lagi dideket panggangan sambil kipas-kipasin potongan-potongan kecil ikan barakuda. Malem itu dia mengenakan kaus biru muda "imogen heap" dengan celana pendek jeans belel nya ditambah sendal jepit. Cukup simple, tapi tetap saja buat gue gak bisa berhenti menatap dia dari kejauhan. Ketika gue, randi, akung, jadul, aryo, masih nyanyi-nyanyi dengan petikan gitar ardi, regy manas-manasin randi soal rencana nembak feli yang tadi sore sebelumnya kita bahas. Dia bilang kalo sekarang waktu yang tepat buat ngejalanin rencana itu. Sontak yang lain ikut manas-manasin randi, termasuk gue yg harus keliatan nunjukin dukungan buat randi dan sebisa mungkin gak nunjukin perasaan gue ke feli yg sebenernya. Randi yang akhirnya tergerak, mengiyakan dorongan dari kita semua. Seketika, kita semua beranjak ke sisi kolam renang yang berhadapan langsung dengan kafe dimana anak-anak berkumpul, dan dimana feli lagi asik bakar ikan di panggangan. Lalu, randi yang sedikit grogi mulai bicara didepan anak-anak kelas. Alunan gitar ardi yang memainkan lagu-lagu mellow mengiringi randi yang meminta feli untuk bisa maju kedepan disampingnya. Feli yang malu-malu, akhirnya maju kedepan kolam dan berdiri disebelah nya randi. Gue yang sedari tadi ikut nyanyi, duduk tepat didepan mereka. Gue kaya yang lagi nonton teater di depan gue saat itu. Walaupun sebenernya gue gak mengharapkan apa yang nantinya akan terjadi didepan gue. Setelah mengumpulkan keberanian yang dia punya, randi akhirnya menyatakan perasaannya terhadap feli di depan kita semua yang menyaksikan malam itu. Spontan, anak-anak langsung riuh dengan pernyataan randi terhadap feli. Tapi setelah itu, kita semua diam untuk menunggu reaksi dari feli. "Ran, ini gak pake syarat atau apa gitu jawabnya?" "Syarat? Syarat gimana maksudnya?" "Iyaa, kalo diterima ngapain gitu, kalo ditolak ngapain gitu kek" "hmm, gimana yah" Randi yang emang tanpa persiapan buat nyatain ke feli, keliatan bingung ketika feli bilang tentang syarat itu. Untungnya, ada salah satu temen gue yang nyaranin buat pake lilin yang ditaruh di pinggir kolan sebagai hiasan. Dia nyaranin kalau diterima, feli bisa ambil lilin itu. Kalau ditolak, feli bisa tiup lilin itu sampai padam. Randi terlihat lega dengan ide barusan. "Fel, kalo diterima kamu boleh ambil lilin nya. Tapi kalo kamu nolak, kamu tiup lilin nya" Denger syarat yang diajuin randi barusan, gue jadi cukup waswas juga sama jawaban yang bakal dikasih feli. Tapi gue rasa feli bakal nolak randi. Karena gue tau curhatan feli tentang siapa cowok yang dia suka. Lagipula, gue tahu kalo randi nggak pernah deketin feli, kaya sering sms-an. Dan ini bikin gue yakin kalo feli bakalan nolak randi. Rupanya dalam waktu singkat setelah randi selesai bicara, feli tanpa pikir panjang langsung meniup lilin yang randi pegang, pertanda kalo dia menolak pernyataan cinta dari randi seraya mengucapkan maaf karena harus meniup lilin itu. Anak-anak yang menyaksikan, kontan langsung berteriak kecewa dengan apa yang baru aja terjadi. Gue? Entah apa yang gue rasain waktu itu. Di satu sisi gue ngerasa gak enak karena randi ditolak. Tapi di satu sisi gue seneng karena feli nolak randi. Cukup Jahat sebenarnya gue pada saat itu, tapi itu lah memang yang gue rasa. Setelah "acara" randi usai, semua kembali seperti sebelumnya. Feli pun kembali ke depan panggangan. Gue pun menghampiri feli yang balik lagi kipas-kipasin ikan. Sambil bercanda, gue ngobrol sama feli tentang kejadian barusan. Entah kenapa dia terlihat tidak senang, lalu berkata kepada gue, "aah, elu sih goon!" Dengan muka cemberutnya. Gue pergi ninggalin dia, buat gabung lagi sama anak-anak yang ngelanjutin nyanyi-nyanyi sambil main gitar. Jujur dalam hati gue bertanya-tanya dengan apa maksud perkataan feli ini. Tak lama, hidangan pun matang. Santapan seafood malam itupun menutup acara malam ini. Kita semua kembali ke kamar masing-masing untuk istirahat, karena besok kita masih harus praktik lapangan hari terakhir. Dan setelahnya, kita kembali pulang ke Bandung. Kurang lebih sudah seminggu berlalu setelah acara fieldtrip berlangsung. Di suatu malam, gue sedang online twitter. Ketika melihat timelines, gue melihat update status dari sandra. Seketika gue kepikiran ucapan dita, yang nyaranin gue buat bilang kalo gue suka feli ke salah satu teman dekatnya. "Kayaknya sekarang aja deh, gue bilang ke sandra". Seketika otak gue memerintahkan kedua jempol tangan gue untuk mengetikkan mention ke sandra. "@Sandraaaa I've got something to tell you!" "What?what?what??? RT @rahadianmau: @Sandraaaa I've got something to tell you!" Dia meretweet mention gue. "DM aja ya? Hehehe" reply gue ke dia Maka percakapan kita pun beralih ke direct message "Gue naksir feli! Hahaha" "hah ? Demi apalah ? Ya tuhan.... Hahahahhaha :D sejak kapan ? Dibalik romansa curhat mu itu yah..." "Hahaha. baru2 deh kayanya, suddenly gtu, entah knp. Huhahahaha. Romansa curhat apa pula??? Hahaha" "iya dia kan suka curhat sama kamu gon. Mau tembak pake lilin (kaya randi) juga ?" "Hahaha iya yah. Dari situ kali gue jd suka nya. Ga pake lilin, takut dtiup, entar saya jd bapet(babi ngepet). Pake obor olimpiade deh biar susah matinya. Haha" "Termakan romantika curhat itu tuh gon. Acie mbrew vituwiwit. Nah, itu bgt! Mau niupnya juga ribet" "Lemah bener ya gue? denger curhatan cewe aja luluh. Hahaha. Entar gue mah mau lari-lari pake kostum badut jatinangor-padasuka (nama daerah di bandung, tempat rumah nya feli) nembaknya. Ditolak, minta ongkos! Haha" Malam itu jadi semacam malam confession perasaan gue ke feli. Gue pun berpikir tentang hal ini, apa gak terlalu drama semua ini? Gua naksir cewe yang ditaksir sama sahabat gue sendiri. Diam-diam, tiba-tiba, tanpa pernah gue harapkan sebelumnya. Ftv abis pikir gue. Tapi ini kenyataannya. Dan apa yg ada di ftv, itu emang berusaha menceritakan apa yang biasa terjadi di kehidupan sehari-hari. Walapun sebenernya gua belum pernah nemu temen gue jadian sama pacarnya gara-gara diserempet mobil dijalan raya. Gue ngerasa lega setelah gue jujur kalo gue naksir feli ke sandra. Setelah ngeliat respon sandra, gue jadi tahu kalo selama ini feli juga sering cerita ke sandra kalo dia sering curhat-curhat sama gue. Gue ngerasa udah cerita ke orang yang tepat, karena ternyata feli menceritakan gue ke sandra. Dan mungkin, setelah ini gue bakal banyak bercerita tentang feli ke sandra. Tapi dibalik itu semua, gue udah berhasil nyeritain apa yang gue simpen selama ini udah gue coba ceritain ke sandra. Gue merasa sedikit lebih lega. Dan gue berharap, dengan ini sandra bisa ngebantu gue buat bisa deketin feli. Ya, semua dimulai dengan harapan. Orang yang jatuh cinta akan selalu berharap. Berharap cinta nya tak bertepuk sebelah tangan dan berbalas. Ya, gue pun berharap akan hal yang sama.

[turisiancom]

TURISIAN.com - KAI Commuter berkolaborasi dengan Line Friends meluncurkan Kartu Multi Trip (KMT) edisi khusus BT21 untuk para pengguna setia Commuter Line. Sementara itu, Direktur Utama KAI Commuter, Asdo Artriviyanto, mengumumkan inovasi ini pada acara peluncuran di Stasiun BNI City, Jakarta, Senin 12 Agustus 2024. "Tahun ini, KAI Commuter mempersembahkan KMT spesial BT21. Dengan KMT, para pengguna Commuter Line dapat menikmati beragam kemudahan. Seperti tidak perlu lagi mengantre di loket saat ingin bepergian," ujar Asdo. BACA JUGA: Skybridge Bojonggede Resmi Beroperasi, Tingkatkan Penggunaan Moda Transportasi Massal Sedangkan, KMT edisi BT21 hadir dalam 16 desain yang menampilkan karakter-karakter BT21 dari Line Friends. Pada tahap pertama peluncuran, KAI Commuter menyediakan 200.000 kartu edisi khusus ini. KMT edisi BT21 akan mulai dijual di seluruh loket Commuter Line Jabodetabek dan di wilayah enam Yogyakarta pada Selasa (13/8). Harga satuan KMT BT21 dibanderol Rp60 ribu, sudah termasuk saldo Rp10 ribu. Begitu pun sejak 2015, KAI Commuter telah menjual 15,5 juta KMT, menjadikannya sebagai bagian penting. Yakni, dari kemudahan transportasi di wilayah Jabodetabek dan sekitarnya. ***

[sakurafigures]

♡ Sister Muse Asdo (RPG-02) - SNAIL SHELL

[maximuswolf]

N8noface - Not Like You [Synth Punk]

N8noface - Not Like You [Synth Punk] https://youtu.be/AsDo-Kqgaog?si=HsJHbtXk8T_bw7Pg Submitted August 13, 2024 at 02:24AM by IlluminatiBob https://ift.tt/H7ZEeb4 via /r/Music

[cherrygorilla]

Ice Pop 🍃

Aaaah, Happy Birthday, Danelle! I hope you're having a wonderful day! I honestly didn't think I'd be able to get anything done to celebrate this year with how busy I've been, and I felt terrible, but luckily being at home for the last week has given me some time on a night to whip a little something up. It's not the best, or the most exciting, but hopefully it can somewhat make up for my months of radiosilence, and bring you a little joy today. 🥰

Now, this can pretty much be considered a standalone AU one-shot, but it was supposed to be a section in the third part of ASDO - yes, I know I haven't even finished the second part yet, I'm working on it lol - however, due to changes in timelines and things, it's not going to be able to work like this anymore. Still, I wanted my idea for two certain characters meeting for the first time to have some sort of a home, even if it is no longer canon. And who knows? Maybe it'll help for their appearances in other stories haha. But yeah, if you're wondering about the context of the rehearsal it's centred around - that's what it's for 😂

Anyway, enough of my rambling! I hope you enjoy it, and I hope you have a great day however you end up celebrating! You're the best internet friend a girl could ask for, so you deserve it! Happy birthday, Danelle!! 🥳

"Ugh, she just gets prettier every time I see her."

As rubber sneaker soles met blistering asphalt, Vivien couldn't help but giggle. Swinging the door of the sky blue convertible shut, she turned to face Carrie, affectionately rolling her eyes as she saw where her gaze, and flattery was aimed. Proudly plastered across the side of Sound Stage 4 was a colossal banner advertising the newest season of Find Your Voice, decorated with the gigantic heads of eight of its core cast members. And off to the left hand side, beaming down the camera lens over the top of an advanced geometry textbook, was the very same blonde as the one standing there admiring it.

"And Miles wonders why he can't get Royce to stop calling you vain," Vivien sarcastically teased.

Reluctantly tearing her gaze from the studio's prime position billboard, Carrie settled the younger brunette with a contented smirk. "I don't care; it's true," she said, holding back a giggle of her own as she swung her car door shut. "And besides, a little self-love's healthy."

"A little?" Vivien snorted with a raised eyebrow.

Carrie didn't have a comeback for that one, instead just laughing along with the teenager as she locked up her Mustang and rounded the car to join her. Bidding the oversized version of herself a final goodbye with a proud grin and a mock salute, as a way of thanking her for her contributions to their show's ever-growing ratings, Carrie began leading Vivien out of the studio parking lot. 

Jogging a few paces to match the blonde's brisk walking pace, Vivien soon returned to scanning her surroundings like she'd just set foot in Munchkinland after a tornado. By now she had thought she was somewhat familiar with the movie world her extended family lived in, or at least the portion by the beach where they all resided. But exploring the downtown area brought that same giddy novelty of her first visit flooding back to her. It was like the whole city had a filter over it, turning up the saturation of the colours in the brickwork or shop signs, and bringing out their warmth to match the sunrays kissing the freckles up and down her arms.

Once she'd finally regained control of her childlike wonder, and had stopped gawping at the buildings lining the street they were strolling down as though they were exhibits at a science museum, her attention returned to the same question that had been plaguing her since Carrie had ushered her into the passenger seat of her car. "You know, you still haven't actually told me where we're going."

"I'm taking you to the venue."

Despite her nonchalant tone, Carrie's revelation made Vivien's breath catch in her throat. "Already?"

"Well yeah," Carrie replied, seemingly confused by the panicked squeak in the girl's voice. "I thought you'd want to get some practice in first."

Melting into a smile with a relieved sigh, Vivien let her shoulders relax and her feet be guided by the clunky, patterned platform boots parading her down Sycamore Close. Acting as a rather effective tour guide, Carrie gave her a walking tour of her and Miles' weekday stomping ground - she pointed out the mechanic shop where he worked, where their favourite sandwich shop was, which place did the best coffee, which place did the worst coffee - she even pointed out the laundrette Miles almost flooded after an unfortunate lunch-break run-in with a meatball sub, and threw in the anecdote that went along with it for good measure. There was the florist shop, the record store, the pharmacy - the whole street looked like it could have been plucked straight out of a movie set. And, in a way, Vivien supposed it had been. But as they rounded another corner, the pastel awnings and inviting smells disappeared. 

It was far from a dump; palm trees still sporadically lined the road, and storefronts held haphazard displays of their products to entice the sparse crowds of customers. But the trashbags sitting at the curbside, and the uneven sidewalk slabs, made this part of town feel a little less polished than the rest. Just as Vivien finished reading the intricate chalkboard sign hanging outside a local bookstore though, and she turned back to follow Carrie's lead, a cloud of smoke obscured her view of the path ahead.

Thankfully, the haze had dispersed by the time the girls approached, but the stench of weed that replaced it made Vivien's nostrils itch. Scrunching up her nose, she slightly quickened her pace, hoping to get to a bakery down the street that could drown out the smell before her eyes started watering. But in the seconds that followed, she didn't know what surprised her more: the fact that Carrie was acknowledged by the stoner responsible for the smoke show, or the fact that she actually stopped to talk to him.

"Heyyyy, Carrie-oke! What the hell are you doing here so early?"

 "We're down a drummer, so we need an emergency rehearsal with our stand-in," Carrie replied, a hint of amusement colouring her tone - whether that was due to the circumstances, or the fact that she sensed Vivien's utter confusion was a mystery to the brunette though.

"You lost another one? What happened? She didn't-"

"Yeah, Amber dumped him… Again."

"Fucking hell," the guy snorted, taking a quick drag on his joint and blowing the smoke out of the corner of his mouth, away from the girls, which Vivien appreciated. There was something about his entertained grin that drew her interest - or maybe it was that mischievous twinkle she spotted in his dark, albeit bleary chocolate brown eyes as he lifted his round sunglasses onto the top of his head. Either way, her intrigue towards the young man was making the weed smell more and more tolerable with each passing second. "Two drummers in four months? Is she trying to set a record or something?" he cheekily continued.

"I don't know," Carrie sighed with an eyeroll at her friend's expense. "But she definitely made the right call with that last guy; he was a total deadweight."

"Was that the coupon guy?" he checked. And once Carrie nodded her confirmation: "Oh yeah, he was a fucking moron. She can do so much better."

"Exactly," Carrie replied, throwing her head back with a hearty laugh at the brunet's earnest response. "But, yet again, her commendable level of self-respect has left us without a drummer less than eight hours before doors open. Hence the emergency rehearsal."

The deeply pensive expression, pulling the guy's eyebrows together, had Vivien biting the inside of her cheek to stop herself from giggling, especially when he revealed what he'd been thinking so hard about.

"Hence…" he mumbled, through a mouthful of the BLT sandwich he'd picked up from the plate balancing precariously on the windowsill beside him. "Gnarly adverb... Respect."

Carrie just shook her head with another amused grin. "That stuff's hittin' good this morning, huh?"

"Oh yeah," he chuckled with a contented nod of approval. "You want a hit?"

Whilst the offer itself wasn't too much of a surprise to Vivien, the length of time Carrie appeared to consider it for certainly was. For a moment, she even thought she saw the blonde's arm twitch, as though instinctively moving to accept, before she caught herself and shook her head. "No, I can't-"

"Oh come on, just a little one."

Again, Carrie almost appeared convinced, before her better judgement won out. "No, I- Look, maybe later," she eventually compromised, taking a step towards the propped open, painted brown door beside them to prevent any attempts at further complaints from the stoner. "I already told you, I'm not here to just hang out. We've got to rehearse."

"We? What are you talking about? Who's-?" But as Vivien followed Carrie's lead, inching towards the doorway, she looked up to find that set of bleary brown eyes fixed on her for the first time that conversation - any traces of an end to his question completely falling out of his head the second he spotted her.

Now that she'd actually been acknowledged by the guy, Vivien took the opportunity to fully take in his appearance: fascinated by the fact that such a creature even knew Carrie, let alone spoke to her like a friend. His dark, taupe hair fell in half-hearted curls by his shoulders - more in limp waves than anything, which were pushed away from his face by the arms of the scratched, round sunglasses balanced atop his head. His scrawny frame was hidden by a baggy denim jacket that looked as though it was about four sizes too big for him, with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, and a shirt beneath patterned so intensely she couldn't look at it for long without seeing spots in her vision. Old, flared, brown trousers; scuffed, but clearly well-loved, maroon boots; and a jumbled collection of leather bracelets, fabric wristbands, and peace sign pendants completed the look - a look she could only think to dub: dishevelled bohemian. If he'd have been on the cover of a history book about the hippie movement she wouldn't have batted an eyelid. And yet here he was, standing right in front of her, looking at her as though she'd just been beamed down from a spaceship.

Apparently her very existence was all it took to stun him into silence; his brain clearly needed all the energy it could get to process what he was seeing. She could practically hear its cogs spinning on overdrive as he searched her face for some recognisable quality. And just when they were starting to sound like her old laptop loading up The Sims, he tore his gaze from her and fixed it back on Carrie.

"…Who the fuck is that?"

The genuine confusion riddling his expression amused Vivien to no end, having to catch herself before a giggle escaped her lips as Carrie, evidently more familiar with his antics, simply replied: "It's Viv."

But the explanation made absolutely no difference in that empty, freckled head. The guy still looked as lost as ever.

"It's Vivien," Carrie tried again. But when she was met with a further, if not slightly more irritated, blank stare, she let out a frustrated scoff and turned so that she was fully facing the airheaded brunet again. "Vivien O'Brian-"

"You say that like you expect me to know who she is," he cut in with an incredulous scoff of his own.

"You do know."

"Then who the fuck is it?" 

"Vivien," Carrie fired back with great exasperation - the kind that could only come from years of friendly, pent-up frustration. "She ice skates. She reads books. Miles talks about her like once a fucking week!"

Ethan's eyes lit up like a Roman candle. "Yoooo, where is Miles?" he asked, all inquiries about the brunette forgotten in an instant at the very mention of that all-important name.

But his eager grin was met with a look of disapproving disbelief. "I don't know," Carrie snapped, left floundering for an answer thanks to the stoner's inability to hold a properly structured conversation. "At work, I assume."

He looked about as satisfied with Carrie's answer as she had with his question though, tipping his head up to the sky and letting out a frustrated groan that would have given a sulking six-year-old a run for his money. "You seriously didn't bring him with you?" he checked, quirking an eyebrow at her out of the corner of his vision - clearly hoping this was just some dorky prank set-up.

"No, I don't think he gets off 'til 5," Carrie flatly fired back.

"Ughhhhh." There went that stroppy groan of frustration again. "That's fucking forever away. What am I supposed to do 'til then?"

"You could help us set up for our rehearsal," Carrie suggested with a smirk. "You know, like any respectable entertainment coordinator would."

He just rolled his eyes. "It's gonna be so boring without him though," he whined, scuffing his boot along the sidewalk as he dejectedly kicked a pebble against the side of the building.

Now it was Carrie's turn to roll her eyes as she let out an incredulous scoff. "Need I remind you, we were friends way before Miles came into the picture?" 

The stoner levelled her gaze for a beat before a knowing smile tugged his lips into that same mischievous grin from before. "Yeah, but from that point on, nothing else really mattered, did it? Let's be real," he chuckled. Despite the ribbing, and obvious penchant for a certain mechanic, there was a glint in his blood-shot eyes that revealed his fondness for the blonde after all though.

And the feeling was clearly mutual since she was still willing to continue the conversation - she couldn't even successfully stifle her smile back as she shook her head and muttered a quick: "You're such an idiot."

The brunet made no attempt to argue - in fact he let out an amused snort of agreement as he reached for the rest of his half-eaten BLT.

Seizing the opportunity to take control of the conversation again, Carrie attempted to steer it back on track with an exaggerated, "Anyway." Tugging her guest closer, and dramatically gesturing to her, she continued, "That Vivien we talk about all the time: this is her."

The guy nodded thoughtfully. "Vivien…" he mumbled through a mouthful of bread - still playing that oh-so challenging game of connect-the-dots.

"Yes, Vivien," Carrie confirmed, as though encouraging a kindergartener. "She stayed with Miles and his brothers last April."

"Mmm," he nodded, finally showing some evidence of understanding. "She's dating that other mechanic guy - the one Miles lived with for-"

"No," Carrie cut in sharply over Vivien's incredulous laughter. "That's Mick and Butchy."

"Well how the fuck am I supposed to-?"

"Viv's dating Royce," Carrie explained, cutting off his complaint before he could derail the conversation any further.

"She's dating Royce?" he questioned, half-mumbling to himself as he fought through the disbelief the new information carried. His eyebrows scrunched in incredulity, his lips curled into a sort of confused grimace- 

But then it finally clicked - the force almost popping his eyes out of his head in the process.

If the sudden change in the stoner's expression hadn't already set Vivien off to laugh harder, the sharp gasp that followed, and sent what remained of his mouthful of sandwich flying into the back of his throat, certainly did.

"Holy shit!" he eventually managed to choke out between the hacking coughs to help dislodge the piece of bread. "That was actually real?" he went on to ask once he'd caught his breath again, staring at Carrie with tear-stained eyes and a look of utter stupefaction. But she just nodded and chuckled as she handed him a bottle of water from her purse. "I thought Miles just made that up so I'd stop thinking his brother was a lame-ass," he continued, pausing to gulp down the offered water and rid himself of any remaining evidence of his mini choking fit. Holding the water bottle out to its original owner with a heavy, contemplative sigh, he levelled her gaze and lowered his voice to ask a dubious: "You're definitely sure it's real then?"

"You do know you can talk to her yourself, right?" Carrie checked, raising her eyebrow as she took back the bottle and gestured to Vivien yet again.

The guy paused, mouth slightly agape, as the realisation steadily dawned on him. Shifting his gaze to the brunette, he instead posed the question to her. "...You're actually dating Miles' brother?"

"I am indeed," she replied, smirking through poorly stifled giggles at the caricature of a guy's reactions.

"And they're definitely not paying you to say this?"

"I wish I was getting paid," Vivien snorted. "Easiest buck I'd ever make."

A thoughtful nod followed, as though impressed by the girl's honesty. And then came another bite of that BLT as he mulled over the revelation a little more. "Well, shit," he eventually settled on, with an amused smirk of his own. "Good for him… And you, I guess," he added, with a vague nod in Vivien's direction.

And then there was silence. It seemed as though he felt his role in the conversation was over now if the way he engrossed himself in inspecting the limp piece of lettuce sticking out the side of his sandwich was anything to go by. But Carrie had other ideas.

"Is that it?"

"Is what it?"

"That's all you have to say?" she raised an eyebrow and pressed.

"Well what else do you want me to do?"

But Carrie's disgruntled eye roll told Vivien she wasn't about to spell it out for him. "You have the social skills of a fucking garden snail," she muttered, before turning to the younger brunette with an almost apologetic shake of her head. "Well, since he's not gonna introduce himself - Viv, this Ethan. I had other, cooler friends I wanted you to meet first but, unfortunately fate had other plans."

Ethan still frowned despite her teasing tone. "I know you don't mean that, Cole," he protested, to which Carrie just smirked and rolled her eyes again.

Vivien felt like she was constantly on the brink of laughter watching the pair interact, caught between genuine amusement and utter disbelief. "So you two are like legitimately friends then?" she asked, feeling the need to check since her brain still didn't feel ready to process what her eyes were telling her.

Matching mischievous grins graced their faces as Ethan nodded and Carrie stifled another chuckle. "Don't look so surprised," she added after clocking the girl's reaction.

"No, I just-" Vivien floundered, struggling to articulate everything her brain was trying to process into a proper sentence. But after several failed attempts, she let her straight-to-the-point inner voice take over talking duties, with a spluttered laugh to join it. "How the hell did it happen?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well I just- I thought I had an idea of what your friends would be like…" Vivien trailed off, again at a loss for words.

"And this isn't it?" Carrie asked with mock-surprise as she jerked her thumb in Ethan's direction, just as he took another hit of his joint. 

"...Well, we call you Barbie for a reason," Vivien teased. "I just didn't expect Little Miss Perfect to hang out with…"

"Someone who looks like they crawled out of Fraggle Rock?" Carrie offered with a smirk that quickly set the girl off to laugh.

Luckily, Ethan started laughing along with them - but not for the same reasons. "Yooo, they call you Barbie?"

"That's what you took from that?" Carrie checked in disgruntled disbelief.

"That's so fucking good," he mumbled as another amused grin settled on his lips.

But Carrie just rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to Vivien. "I swear you kids think I'm some sort of saint," she chuckled before teasingly adding, "You're not the only one who can have cool, weird friends, you know?"

"I never said I was," Vivien argued through a laugh. "I just don't know where you two could have ever crossed paths. Where did you guys meet?"

"He works on the sound for Find Your Voice and a couple of other shows on the lot. So I've known him ever since I booked the part," Carrie explained whilst Ethan worked on finishing what was left of his BLT. "He was just another part of the crew at first, but, because I talk to anyone and everyone all the time-"

"'Cause she loves the sound of her own voice," Ethan cut in through a mouthful of bacon, cheekily licking mayo off his thumb.

Carrie silenced him with a withering stare - but his lingering smirk told Vivien that he wasn't phased in the slightest. Still, Carrie was able to finish the rest of her explanation uninterrupted. "-I started to talk to him between takes, you know, since he was always there with the boom mic. And then one thing led to another, and before I knew it, he was sacking off lunch with the other tech guys to come and raid my dressing room for cookies."

"Oh come on," Ethan frowned at the light ribbing. "Don't pretend you wouldn't do the same for your mom's snickerdoodles."

"You ate crumbs out of a trash can."

"And I'd do it again," Ethan shot back with an earnestness that just made his and Carrie's sibling-like bickering even more entertaining. "You can't talk anyway; you ate that piece of pizza Miles spat out into a napkin the other week."

Ethan's accusatory frown, paired with Vivien's grimace just made Carrie's attempts at a justification even harder to come by. "Listen, I was not…" she began, eyes darting to the brunette on her left as she tried to phrase this in a way that wouldn't tarnish her reputation any further. "...of sound mind that evening. Plus, he's my boyfriend - I've tasted worse than saliva."

As if the first part of the confession hadn't shocked her enough, Vivien jerked her head back in reaction to that last line. "Eww, Carrie!"

Ethan's loud bark of laughter was a completely different response though. "Hey, I never said there was anything wrong with it," he eventually chuckled. "I'd have probably eaten it if you didn't."

"And I bet you'd have loved it too, you freak," Carrie fired back with a smirk despite her nose wrinkling in disgust.

Ethan's proud grin was all the evidence she needed to know she was right. 

Once Vivien had recovered from her future sister-in-law's nausea-inducing revelation, she was able to continue with her inquiries about the scruffy stoner she'd become so fascinated with. "Wait so you know Miles too?"

"Know him?!" Ethan squawked.

His reaction sent Carrie's eyes to the heavens as she tipped her head back in despair. "Don't get him started, Viv," she wearily warned.

But Ethan didn't even give the brunette the chance to question any further, seizing the opportunity to talk about the mechanic with both hands, and a lovestruck smile. "Miles is my soulmate; my cosmic chaperone - we're spiritually bound by the very threads of our existence."

The edges of Vivien's smirk twitched, dying to let the guffaws it was holding back free as she raised an eyebrow. "That close, huh?"

Ethan gave the girl a solemn nod. "He's the ketchup to my mustard."

"Well shit," Vivien deadpanned, matching the guy's energy perfectly. "You can't get closer than that."

Shaking her head at the pair, and the situation in general, Carrie went on to explain: "The second I brought Miles on set it was game over. He asked Ethan some dumb question about a song on the radio and he's been following him around like a bad smell ever since." 

Both physically and metaphorically.

"It was Money by the Rolling Stones, and we still say it's our song to this day, thank you very much," Ethan cagily retorted, as protective as ever over his friendship with Miles, before adding a slightly more in character: "That guitar line is gnarly."

"'Our song'?" Vivien questioned with a snort. "Are you guys gonna use it for your wedding or something?"

But the teasing remark bounced off Ethan like a rubber bullet as he mulled over the proposal with a mellow grin. "I could dig it."

Again Carrie just fondly shook her head, at both Ethan's response and Vivien's reaction. "Believe me, Viv," she went on to say. "They'd need no encouragement. I mean, you'll see it for yourself later, but they're inseparable when you get them together. Like, think of the biggest bromance you know, then times it by four…and you might be getting close."

"They're really that close?" Vivien chuckled in disbelief.

Carrie nodded intently. "They're like fucking limpets."

"I can't believe Miles has been hiding the fact he's got a best friend from me for all these years," Vivien said with cheeky incredulity. "I'm never letting him live this down. I didn't think losers like him were capable of having best friends."

"Well believe it, because he's not going anywhere," Carrie snorted. "Believe me; I've tried."

"Protest all you want, 'oke. You and I both know you'd be lost without me," Ethan said, slinging his now free arm around Carrie's shoulder and pulling her towards him, before affectionately squidging her cheeks together in a way that immediately had her trying to squirm out of his grip. 

"I'd have one hell of a mopey boyfriend, that's for sure," Carrie compromised with an affectionate roll of her eyes as she finally somewhat relaxed into the awkward embrace. "And a pretty boring social life."

"Exactly!" Ethan said, that same mischievous grin from earlier making its fateful return. "Who else would you have to go and play midnight mini golf with? And who'd you get to play ice tag with you on set?"

"Isn't it called 'freeze' tag?" Vivien teasingly questioned. "And why are you adults playing freeze tag at work?"

"Uh, we're 22, we're not dinosaurs," Carrie retorted. "And it's not 'freeze tag', it's 'ice tag': a Carrie and Ethan original."

"Well if it's not freeze tag then what is it?" Vivien laughed.

"Duuude, it's so fun!" Ethan enthused. "You've gotta sneak to one of the craft services ice buckets, grab a couple cubes, then pick your victims. If you get one down the back of their shirt - or pants - without them noticing 'til it's already down there, and without it melting, you get a point - and they then have to be the next one to go get the ice."

"The camera guys hate it," Carrie laughed. "But it makes long filming days so much more fun. We've got like half the cast and crew playing now."

"Yeah, the scoreboard in her dressing room's insane," Ethan added.

"So you've built an entire friendship around a game about ice cubes?" Vivien questioned with an amused quirk of her eyebrow.

"Pfft, no, we hang out all the time!" Ethan said.

"Yeah, believe it or not, Miles and I do voluntarily hang out with him when we're not running around after you guys," Carrie chuckled.

"To do what?" Vivien snorted.

"All sorts. We've had a few good movie nights lately 'cause we found out Ethan's got like the weirdest taste in movies ever; he's seen shit like 'Attack of the Crab Monsters', but not The Wizard of Oz."

"Well I have now, but it was fucking weird, man," came Ethan's review. "The scarecrow guy's face looked like it was melting off." Directing his next point at Vivien in particular, he departed his first bout of wisdom on her. "Not one to watch high, dudette, trust me."

"Noted," Vivien acknowledged.

"So yeah, we've had a couple of rogue movie nights if Ethan's been in charge of securing the projector reels," Carrie continued. "But other than that it's just like general, everyday stuff. At least for us, anyway. We don't really get much chance to properly plan stuff out - it kind of just happens. Like the other day, after work, Amber started trying to teach us all how to do one of her crazy yoga routines - we'd never have suggested that until we did it, but it was some of the most fun I've had in weeks."

"Yooo, I was so fucking good at it. I might get her to show me some more stuff next week; I really felt like I was tapping into something powerful with it."

"Oh it was powerful alright," Carrie acknowledged with a giggle. "Miles couldn't believe it - I haven't seen him laugh that hard since he watched you take 20 minutes to make that packet ramen."

"Look, I just have other skill sets to most people," Ethan retorted with a resigned sigh. But a fleeting memory soon had his confidence racing back. "You've gotta admit I was a key player in helping you wreck Eric's car though."

Vivien's jaw dropped to her purple sneakers. "I'm sorry, you did what now?"

The guilt was written all over Carrie's pretty little face. Knowing she had no leg to stand on if she attempted to deny it, thanks to Ethan's unending honesty, she caved with a sigh. "Ok, yeah, so we may have totaled Eric's sports car-"

"Fuck, it was so fun!" Ethan exclaimed. "Me, Amber, and Carrie went to town on that thing. And Julie-"

"Anyway," Carried quickly cut in, trying to change the topic of conversation.

But the disbelief glittering in Vivien's emerald eyes wasn't about to let her get off the hook so easily. "Oh no, I'm not going anywhere until I hear this story," she grinned eagerly.

Letting out a defeated huff, Carrie compromised. "Alright, fine, I'll tell you later. But not a word of it gets back to Miles, ok? Because he has no idea we were the ones responsible for that - and we need to keep it that way."

"Oh come on, why can't I hear it now?" Vivien asked, sticking Carrie with her classic puppy dog eyes for extra, black-mail-y effect.

But unlike her other half, Carrie wasn't so easily won over by the pleading. "Because we need to go practice," she fired back. "We've wasted enough time talking to this bozo already."

"It's not been a waste," Ethan indignantly replied. "I've had a great time."

"So have I," Vivien agreed with a chuckle. 

"And I'm very pleased for you both, but that doesn't change the fact that we need to rehearse. So hurry up and unlock the function room for us, tech boy," Carrie bossily snapped back despite her affectionate eye roll. 

"You see how she speaks to me?" Ethan snarkily muttered to Vivien as though behind the blonde's back. 

"I thought he was the sound guy for your TV show, what does that have to do with us rehearsing here?" Vivien asked, scanning the outside of the building for some sort of clue as to what the place even was.

"He is, but he's also the entertainment co-ordinator here, which means he's in charge of all the live music equipment, and the emcee for the night," Carrie explained as he stamped out the end of his joint with the toe of his boot. "So we're stuck with him all day, I'm afraid."

"I'm also your number one competition, so you'd better be fucking good," he retorted with another mischievous grin. "'Cause you've yet to beat us once."

"You've got a band too?" Vivien asked.

"Yeah - me, Miles, Donny, Rizzo and Desky. Don't let Carrie brainwash you about her bogus trio though, 'cause she can talk all she wants, but she knows she only put it together 'cause she was jealous of ours."

"You're so full of shit," Carrie retorted.

"Oh yeah? Then how come you've lost the crowd favourite vote to us every single time?" he cockily shot back. And when, for once, she didn't have a snapback at the ready: "That's what I thought. Fucking. Poser."

"Brag all you want, but we're gonna make you eat those words tonight now that we've got Viv on our side," Carrie coolly replied, sparing the brunette a smug smile.

"Oh shit, yeah," Ethan said, his competitiveness vanishing once he remembered the reason for his new friend's visit. "You're filling in as their drummer, right?"

"Yeah," Vivien confirmed, trying to hide the fact that her stomach did a backflip at the very thought. "At least that's the plan."

"Gnarly," he acknowledged with an impressed nod. "Where'd you learn to play?"

"My brother Riven taught me back when we were kids."

"Nice, you ever done any shows before or-?"

"Hello? What part of, 'we need to go practice', do you not understand?" Carrie cut in with a pointed glare in the stoner's direction.

"Uh, we're having a conversation here," Ethan countered, totally oblivious to her frustration.

"We actually have a band of our own with two of our friends that we've played a couple of shows for, yeah," Vivien carried on with a giggle at Carrie's expense.

"Oh really? No way!" Ethan exclaimed, seeming genuinely excited by the prospect.

"Yeah, and we write all our own songs."

"Seriously? That's so-"

"Guys!" Carrie tried again - one more stall away from stamping her platform go-go boot on the ground and throwing a toddler-style fit. "Come onnnn."

But yet again, Ethan wasn't bothered in the slightest by her rising irritation. In fact, he was rather irritated himself by her impatience. "Carrie - can't you see I'm talking to my new friend here? She has great knowledge to bestow, and I have much to learn - so quit interrupting; we're having bonding time. You're being rude."

"You can't pull the 'friend' card on me with Viv; she's like my little sister-" Carrie tried, but her indignant protests were drowned out by more of Ethan's senseless rambles.

"So, we'll circle back to the band thing later; I need to do some mental collage-work first, 'cause your canvas is feelin' a little blank, dudette," he began, leaning back against the brick wall and closing his eyes, as though to better visualise the 'memory version' of the brunette before him. Pressing a couple of fingers to his forehead, in an attempt to strengthen their cerebral connection, he continued, "We'll lay down some basics first. Quick-fire: name, birthday, last bone you broke."

Vivien had to bite back a laugh before responding: "Vivien O'Brian, August 22nd, and it was my wrist when I was 10."

Ethan's eyes peeled open, shining with intrigue. "No way, you've actually broken a bone?"

"Why are you so surprised? You asked," Vivien chuckled.

"'Cause most of these losers I ask don't do anything exciting enough to risk bodily harm," he snorted back, with a smug glance in Carrie's direction, relishing the steam that was practically rising from the top of her head. "How'd you break it then?"

"My skating partner dropped me," Vivien said, luckily able to look back on the memory with a more optimistic view than the other participant.

"'Skating partner'?" Ethan mused.

"Yeah, we're figure skaters - my friend Riven and I; the one who taught me to how to play the drums," she explained, catching on quickly that the more context clues she offered, the sooner they'd get to the point.

"What, like roller skating?" 

"No, ice skating," Vivien clarified with a giggle.

Ethan's eyes glazed over in understanding. "Ohhh, right. Like ice hockey."

"No, not like ice hockey," Carrie cut in with an exasperated sigh, trying to break it down as simply as she could. "Figure skating. It's like ice dancing. Think the winter olympics - lots of twirling - little dresses-"

"Ohhh, no way! You do all those crazy jumps and shit?" Ethan exclaimed - finally catching on.

"Yeah," Vivien acknowledged. "At least three times a week, usually."

"At the olympics?" he asked, genuine amazement coating every word.

"No, we're not at olympic level," she chuckled, deciding to forgo the explanation that the olympics, at most, happen 3 times a decade. "Not yet, anyway. Our coach is working us towards it though, so who knows? Maybe one day."

"Holy fuck, we're talking to a future olympian, Carrie," Ethan enthused, bumping the blonde's arm in an attempt to share the excitement with her. But when she just rolled her eyes, yet failed to hold back her smile, he continued. "Do you do other competitions and stuff though? Or do you just like practising and doing it for fun?"

"No, we compete. I've got like a whole shelf of trophies in my room," Vivien said, poorly stifling a laugh as Ethan's eyes grew wider still. "We're the reigning national champs for our age bracket."

"Woahhhh, far out, man," he breathed. "That's awesome!" Thumping Carrie's arm again, this time a touch harder to coincide with his growing excitement, he gave her another aside, "Yo, Carrie, we're talking to like a legit celebrity here." 

Vivien didn't know what she ended up laughing harder at, Ethan's genuine awe at her achievements, or Carrie's deadpan look of resignation. Those blue eyes of hers looked like they could have melted steel.

Snorting out a laugh of his own at the blonde's expression, he turned back to Vivien with a smirk. "That never gets old," he grinned, evidently well-versed in teasing Carrie about her level of fame. "Anyway, enough about her; she gets more than enough attention. What other cool, hidden talents are you hiding under those glasses?"

"I don't know, I don't think anything else really counts as a talent," Vivien downplayed. "I've taken a few archery lessons, I like going and exploring abandoned buildings-"

"Woah, woah, woah, 'abandoned buildings'?" Ethan questioned - bloodshot eyes once again sparking to life. "What the hell? You're so cool. She's so cool," he said, turning to see if Carrie was sharing in his bewilderment too. "How the fuck did you end up dating Miles' lame-ass little brother? No offence, but like-"

"Ethan," Carrie scolded.

"No, come on, not in like a mean way; he sounds great - I'd protect him with my life - but like, all I ever hear from Miles is that he fucking reads nerdy library books," he attempted to justify.

"Well I like reading too, you know," Vivien countered with a teasing smirk. 

"Yeah, but you still seem to have a life," Ethan retorted, with all the social graces of an ox. The hearty laugh Vivien let out in response soon had him back to grinning like an idiot though. "Yo, why's Miles kept us apart for so long? You're awesome - we've got such a good energy going here," he chuckled.

"Yeah, why has Miles kept us apart?" Vivien agreed, looking to Carrie for some sort of explanation.

Begrudgingly rejoining the conversation, she explained with a teasing smirk at the stoner's expense. "Because you're a terrible influence - I speak from experience. He's gonna kill me when he finds out I've introduced you two without his supervision." But then she turned her attention to the younger brunette. "And because the second you see them both together, his cover as the somewhat responsible adult looking after you kids is gonna be blown out the water."

"Oh come on, how bad can he be?" Vivien laughed.

"It's not bad, necessarily - it's just that when they're together, and you're not around, all responsibilities go out the window, and the 22 years of pent-up stupidity are unleashed," Carrie explained with a laugh of her own.

Grinning mischievously, Vivien said, "In that case, I can't wait for his shift to end."

"Yeah, which is gonna be soon if we don't hurry up and get our asses inside," Carrie said, shooting Ethan with another pointed look.

"Huh? D'you hear something, Viv?" Ethan asked his new protege, intentionally blanking the steadily seething blonde.

"Ethan, come onnnn, please," Carrie pleaded, bouncing on the balls of her feet like an impatient child. "You can continue this while we're setting up."

"Weather's pretty nice this morning, huh? Not too humid, not-"

"Fine, I'll just have to kick the door down," Carrie resigned, hiding her smirk behind his back. "I hope no one's left their guitar lying around where it could get damaged if-"

Whirling around with a look of pure horror, Ethan muttered a sombre, almost warning, "Don't even joke about that; you know she's my baby."

"You play the guitar?" Vivien questioned.

"'Play's putting it lightly; I think I can noddle away on that thing better than I can talk," Ethan snorted.

"Like that's hard," Carrie teasingly retorted before continuing. "As much stick as I've given him this morning, he is really good on that guitar," she went on to acknowledge with a genuine smile. "Riven, Miles, and Butchy can talk all they want, but they're not a patch on this guy - I think if he wasn't so mentally stunted he'd be considered some sort of prodigy or something."

"You know, you can just give me a genuine compliment," he said, frowning slightly at her friendly jab. 

"I know… I'll start when you start," she retorted with a smirk he soon reciprocated, before shaking his head and letting out another snort of laughter.

"Ok, we'll stick with this; we've got a nice thing going here, why ruin it?"

Grinning at the pair of old friends, and the way Carrie squeezed him into a hug from the side, Vivien's ever-active brain started formulating a new idea - one that would hopefully get her in the good books of both cartoon-cliches come-to-life. "Well, if you're this good on the guitar I've obviously gotta hear it for myself," she prompted, drawing the brunet's attention back to her.

"Shoot, of course, I'd love to play something with you - you know any-?" Ethan began to gush, shoving Carrie away from his side in favour of chattering away to the brunette again.

"Don't we need to get into the function room first though?" she asked, sparing a quick glance at a suddenly very excited Carrie.

"Oh shit, yeah. You shoulda just said, Viv. I'll go unlock it for us," Ethan chuckled as though the concept was entirely new - sending Carrie's eyes to the heavens again. 

But the blonde's groan of frustration was drowned out by Vivien's optimistic giggle, as she teasingly mumbled under her breath, "See? That wasn't so hard."

"You two are really gonna make me regret introducing you both, huh?" she said with a weary chuckle of her own as Ethan disappeared into the building.

"On the contrary; I think we're gonna have more fun than ever," Vivien laughed back. "I need to see more of this 'wild' side he brings out of you. First I find out you're bi. Now I find out you smoke weed and could go down for criminal damages to your ex's car with that…thing. I feel like I barely even knew you before."

Carrie just chuckled to herself at the teenager's amazement. "I did try to tell you I was more than just Miles' girlfriend."

"What else are you hiding now? Surely there can't be more," Vivien demanded. "Are you gonna introduce me to your secret three-year-old or something?"

"Eww, no," she laughed. "Just be patient, you'll find out when you're ready," she smirked with a confident mystique Vivien could only have dreamed of. "I've gotta keep at least some of the mystery alive."

Before Vivien could press the older girl for any further clues though, a bedraggled head of shoulder-length brown hair appeared in the dark doorway. "Come on, Ice Pop. It's all unlocked."

Vivien looked from Ethan to Carrie and back again, perplexed. "Ice Pop?"

"Yeah, Ice Pop," Ethan simply confirmed, with a dopey grin.

"Nicknames are kind of his thing," Carrie explained, her voice barely above a whisper as she leaned in to inform the brunette. "It's just how his little pea-brain works. And once he's settled on one for you, you're kind of stuck with it - unfortunately," she added, thinking back to the months of convincing it took to get him to stop calling her 'Coleslaw'.

"Why 'Ice Pop'?" Vivien questioned - as amused, and fascinated, by the guy's thought process as ever.

"'Cause you ice skate," he explained as though it was obvious. "And you're wearing purple - you've actually just got like a purple vibe."

"What does purple have to do with ice pops though?" she asked.

"Well the purple ones are my favourite, and you're my favourite ice skater, so…" he replied, miming the fusion of ideas with his hands for added effect. "Ice Pop."

Poorly holding back her flattered, yet still slightly amused grin, Vivien tried to protest. "You've never even seen me skate."

"Minor details," he dismissed with a wave of his hand. "You're the only one I know by name though - so, you don't have a lot of competition. But that still makes you my favourite."

All the skating talk was lost on Carrie, but there was something about the conversation that caught her attention: "The purple one's are your favourite? They taste like ass."

"Probably why they're my favourite," he snorted as Carrie just wrinkled her nose. Not wanting to delay the imminent jam session any longer, he quickly turned back to Vivien though, managing to catch her attention between her hearty laughs. "What do you say then? You like it?"

"Yeah, I like it," she grinned, warmth spreading throughout her chest as she watched the stoner's eyes glow with appreciation.

"Sweet," he breathed, holding her gaze for a beat before beckoning her towards the wooden archway in the brickwork. "Come on then, Ice Pop. Welcome to The Grapefruit."

Following a nod of approval from Carrie, who promptly trailed behind her, Vivien let Ethan lead her through a bead curtain and into a dimly lit, oak-panelled hallway. The floor almost immediately dropped into a stairwell, lined with black and white photos of musicians, and prints of various fruits in the same assorted shades of orange, yellow, and green from the beads at the entrance.

As they descended, Vivien, as talkative as ever, especially now that she was more at ease around the guy, decided to start probing Ethan for more details. "So if I'm Ice Pop, and Carrie's Carrie-oke - does Miles have a nickname?"

"Nah, you can't improve upon perfection," Ethan sighed, grabbing the railings of the staircase and launching himself down the last four steps. "I do have a 'government name' I call him though when he needs me to talk some sense into him," he continued after landing with a thud in front of a two-way corridor.

"Which is?" Vivien prompted as they turned to the left and reached another door.

"Miles per Gallon, Miles per Hour, Miles from Anywhere - there's a couple variations," he replied as he pulled a bunch of keys from his back pocket and started working on the lock. "Just depends on my mood."

"Oh my god, I can't wait for him to get here," Vivien giggled. She didn't know what she was laughing harder at: Ethan's nicknames for her honorary big brother, or what she imagined his face would look like when he realised she now knew about them. 

"Well, in the meantime, make yourself comfy. 'Cause it sounds like you're gonna be here a while," Ethan chuckled as he pushed the door open and stepped aside to let her enter first. "Behold: your performance space for the evening."

As Vivien stepped into the room, that same surreal feeling she got the first time she set foot in the Wet Side Story world flooded through her - it felt like a dream, like everything would disappear in a puff of smoke if she touched it. But as her sneakers met scuffed, wooden floorboards, she stayed very much in one piece - as did everything else around her. The wood-panelled walls continued into what she now understood was an underground bar - but, despite the lack of sunlight, it was far from dingy. The overhead lights bathed everything in a soft, golden light, which complimented the room's colour scheme perfectly. The same shades of rust orange, mustard yellow, and olive green from the beaded curtain at the entrance clung to the upholstery and decorations - and yet brighter pops of colour, in line with the bar's citrussy namesake, made the whole room come to life. The earthy tones, mismatched furniture and clashing patterns made it feel so quintessentially 60s, but that just made Vivien love it even more - even if it did smell vaguely like stale beer. 

"Hold up, how old is she? D'you think I'm allowed to have let her in here if she's not 21?" Ethan asked Carrie as the pair followed Vivien into the function room. 

"It's not like you're gonna serve her any alcohol, she's just here to perform," Carrie said, brushing off his concern with ease. "And besides, if she wants anything she can just sneak some of mine," she added with a mischievous grin the stoner quickly shared.

"Yeah, what am I even saying? Since when did I start giving a shit about following the rules?" he snorted, pocketing his keys and crashing onto the nearest, faded leather couch.

"Alright then, Viv," Carrie continued, stepping up behind the teenager, who was still gazing around the room in wonder. And yet it wasn't until the blonde put her hands on her shoulders and steered her towards the centre of the room that she even noticed the sprawling stage - complete with mic stands, a dusty piano, several guitar amps and that all-important drum-kit. "You ready to take her for a spin?"

Vivien's first instinct told her 'absolutely not', but there was something about the warmth in Carrie's hopeful smile, and Ethan's earnest encouragements, still fresh in her mind, that gave her pause. Maybe she could do this after all; they certainly seemed to think she could. And she wasn't going to get over this stage fright without trying, so she might as well give it a go with a supportive audience - a rather unconventional, supportive audience; but one that, given her newfound fondness of the pair, and their apparent abundance of love for her in return, one that she wouldn't have traded for anything.

[doublesama]

Don't miss out on this new addition to Snail Shell's RPG fantasy themed series! Sister Muse Asdo is a new original character action figure with a seductive nun outfit!

SHOP: https://www.hlj.com/search/?Word=sister-muse+asdo&utm_source=doublesama&utm_medium=affiliate

[seriburupiah]

Apa Kabar B? (part 2)

2021 aku rasa adalah one of the most remarkable year sejauh ini untuk aku, selain 2017. 

Di tahun ini, Allah begitu mudah melimpahkan semua kasih dan sayangnya padaku B. 

Aku, entah darimana anginnya akhirnya bisa ikut magang, lewat program Kampus Merdeka, di Bank Indonesia. Paid internship. Dari semua orang di angkatan kita, aku salah satu dari 3 orang terpilih (2 lainnya adalah Tami dan Anin akuntansi).. MaasyaAllah tabaarakallah, tidak terbayang sedikitpun sebelumnya. Meski hanya UMR jakarta, tapi aku tetap bisa mulai menabung sejak saat itu... 

Bayangkan jika ini terjadi offline, tapi mungkin karena online ini semua justru bisa kejadian? Entahlah. Aku magang dari Feb hingga Juli 2021. Tidak sampai disitu, ALhamdulillah nya, keinginan ku untuk dibimbing bu Sekar juga kesampaian, bisa jadi asdos untuk pak Amirullah dan akhirnya alhamdulillah aku bisa sidang 8 Juli 2023, dan wisuda Agustus nya. 

B, tidak sampai disitu. Alhamdulillah. Aku dapat kerja..

Dan  pekerjaan pertamaku ini juga dilakukan fully-remote working, hingga akhirnya aku akhiri di November 2023 ini B. Alhamdulilllah.. aku pikir-pikir lagi, aku kurang romanticize semua hadiah Allah selama 2021 kemarin.

//

2022 ku berjalan datar. Namun sedikit lebih berwarna karena aku mengenal BTS. Iya. group asal korea itu. Perkenalan singkat namun akhirnya membuat aku begitu bahagia setiap harinya dengan segala konten-kontennya. Mulai dari Musik tentunya dan aktivitas extras diluar itu. Tidak terlalu banyak kejutan, namun semua stabil di 2022, meski tidak stabil-stabil amat. Ada saat-saat aku insecure karena aku kerja hanya dari rumah, tidak ada kantor . Aku bekerja pada seorang Konsultan Strategis yang mengerjakan proyek-proyek di bidang transformasi digital. Tujuannya adalah untuk mendorong transformasi digital di berbagai lini, pemberdayaan perempuan, upscaling UMKM. Kami bekerja dengan kementerian, yayasan amal milik korporasi dsb sebagai klien.

Namun hingga akhir 2022, tidak satu hari pun B aku tidak ingat kamu. Tahun demi tahun yang berganti, hatiku masih sesak dengan keinginan temu ketika menghadirkan wajahmu di pikiranku, meski suaramu mulai samar dari memori. Setiap kali rasa ingin bertemu ku memuncak, aku melihat langit, aku mengunjungi dan memandangi matahari setengah terbenam hingga bercengkrama dengan hujan. Aku harap makhluk-makhluk Allah itu bisa bantu sampaikan pesan rinduku. Aku hanya bisa mendoakanmu. Percayalah, ada saat-saat amat sulit, dimana rasanya aku ingin nekat menelponmu, mendengar suaramu dan bertukar cerita, karena rasanya hanya dengan itu aku bisa mengecap sedikit bahagia...  Tidak ada yang berubah sejak terakhri kali kita ketemu

2023 bay. 2023 ada plot twist. Aku kembali bertemu dan dekat dengan cinta pertamaku. Dan di awal tahun ketika kami mulai sering berkomunikasi, aku sama sekali tidak berpikir bahwa hadirnya akan jadi highlight untuk 2023 ku.

[susukotakfullcream]

pernahkah dalam hidupmu terjadi sesuatu yang semula kamu pikir tak mungkin?

Pernah. Adalah ketika kuasa Allah dan Maha BaikNya memberangkatkan saya untuk perjalana spirtual, yaitu ibadah umrah.

Kalau bisa di bilang sepertinya tidak akan mungkin dengan biaya mandiri berangkat di usia muda. Rasanya sebelum itu di penuhi tahun tahun ujian. Tidak langsung bekerja ditempat yang sesuai, ketertinggalan dengan teman sejawat yang sudah karirnya melejit bahkan saya saat itu di kondisikan Allah untuk membiayai keluarga termasuk urusan perkuliahan si bungsu.

Ingat betul masih jadi asdos di gaji 150k/ kedatangan. Dan ini tidak datang setiap saat. Saat mengisi menjadi fasil di mata ajar keperawatan anak 1 kasus di berikan 400k/2 pertemuan. Dan sore hari nya saya harus mengajar privat 2 anak yang dibayar 150k/bulan. Kadang engga jarang alm. Engkong bagi saya uang transport 50k. Dilihat dari sini mana mungkin bisa umrah yang harganya puluhan juta.

Pernah saya sangat berharap saat itu untuk bekerja di perusahaan asuransi. Tapi qodarullah Allah selamatkan karena panggilan menjadi relawan covid sudah lebih awal.

Saat jadi relawan covid pun gaji tidak langsung besar. Dibayar 150k/kedatangan. Bisa dalam sebulan hanya 18 shift. Ini kondisi si bungsu masih menghadapi UN. Mau tidak mau uang digunakan untuk kebutuhan sehari hari dan bantu biaya kelulusan.

Allah berikan jalan lagi rezeki dari pintu lain sehingga bisa menabung. Tapi tidak berhenti di situ. Allah uji dengan covid dan bapak yang beneran di PHK. Sedangkan adik sudah dinyatakan lulus masuk PTN dan harus membayar biaya masuk PTN yang hampir sekitar 8jtan. Ya Allah tidak ada yang tersimpan di rekening saat itu. Bahkan pernah terpaksa harus super irit dengan motor dan beli bensin benar benar mendekati huruf E😭masya Allah kalo di lihat sekarang rasanya engga mungkin banget kan ya itu hidup penuh derita tapi Allah mampukan untuk umrah.

Doa untuk umrah tidak pernah terputus sejak 2017. Karena saya yakin Allah akan mengabulkan setiap permintaan doa hambaNya. Tinggal kita sebagai hamba apakah bersabar atas penantian doa itu.

Satu lagi kita tidak boleh meremehkan kun fayakun nya Allah. Sebab Allah dengan segala Maha Kuasanya bisa memberikan kemungkinan disaat kemungkinan itu tidak mungkin

#day6

Izin kak @prawitamutia prompt 6 rasanya jadi refleksi dan flasback yang bikin makin amat bersyukur sekali