#bc people do not reading the fucking news and just look at the headline or screenshotted bit instead :(

[jadeiteee]

Behind the closed doors! cs55

This is for the anon that requested muslim reader x Carlos, I accidentally deleted the req bcs am a dumbass😔😔

In the bustling streets of Madrid, a love story was born. It wasn’t meant to be, you were so different, but the heart wants what it wants.

You felt his presence before you saw him, standing behind you, glaring at the man who was flirting with you. “Fuck off” he grunted, staring daggers as the man scurried off.

“Carlos” you glare at him “what was that for?” You rolled your eyes. “He was staring at you” he uttered posessively, his hands slipping to hug your waist.

You shot him a glare and swatted his hand “we are in public, Carlos.” You warns him “the media will pick this up in a flash”

“Relax cariño, they won’t notice” he smiled cunningly as you rolled your eyes 

“You don’t need to be so possessive and chase away every guy who looked at my way” you scoffed, crossing your arms in annoyance 

Carlos's expression softened, his gaze meeting yours with a hint of remorse. "I know, cariño," he sighed, reaching out to gently caress your cheek. "But I can't stand seeing anyone else look at you like that."

Despite your irritation, you couldn’t seem to hide the fact that it warmed your heart how much he loved you, melting all your irritation away. 

“Let’s get out of here” you said softly, your voice muffled by the crowd, but he somehow managed to pick it up

He holds your hand as you both escape from the loud and bustling party, laughing and giggling like childrens, not giving any care about the world, just you, and him.

You both sat quietly at his car, trying to catch your breath, the loud bustling city around you seemed to quiet down, it felt like the world had stopped and it is just you now.

He started the car as he drove to his apartment, jokes and laughter filling the air, not caring about the media for once, it is just you and him now.

Once you arrived to his apartment, he carried you into his room and dropped you there, plopping into the bed after the tiring night, only wanting to rest, but Carlos decided he doesn’t want to, he started tickling you while giggling like a child

“Carlos” you said giggling while trying to avoid his tickles, “leave me alone!” You tried to avoid him, but what can a normal person do against a literal athlete?

Carlos grinned mischievously, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he reached out to tickle you once more. "Come on, cariño," he teased, his fingers dancing across your skin. "You know you love it."

You squealed and squirmed, trying in vain to escape his relentless assault. "Stop it, Carlos!" you laughed, your words punctuated by bursts of giggles. "I surrender!"

That didn’t stopped him from continuing his antics as he continues to tickles you, burst of laughter echoes in the room.

You both plopped into the bed after 30 minutes of wrestling, giggling and laughing as you both cuddled into bed, not aware of what was gonna happen in the morning.

You wake up with the sound of two people talking, you whined a little as you rub your eyes, adjusting to the lights around you as you saw your bestfriend Bianca standing there with her arms crossed, talking to Carlos

You blinked a few times trying to make sure this wasn’t a dream “Bianca..? Why are you here?” You muttered slowly, trying to wake yourself up

“You made the news” she handed you her phone, “A mysterious girl and Carlos Sainz were spotted at a party in Madrid.” You saw the headline of the news with a picture of you and Carlos last night.

“Fuck” you cursed slowly, reading through the news, luckily your face was not pictured but people have started hating on you.

You felt your stomach sinking as you read the comments beneath the article. People were speculating about your relationship with Carlos, making assumptions and spreading rumors without knowing the truth.

Carlos placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, his expression filled with concern. "Don't worry, cariño," he said softly. "We'll handle this together."

You feel anxious, but you know Carlos will protect you, as long as you two are together, anything else doesn’t matter.

[monstersinthecosmos]

I didn't follow any of the pre-release promotional materials; do you have a link to the showrunner(s) stating/implying that queerness is merely "subtextual" in the absence of literal sex? (Apologies if you've shared it before and I just wasn't paying attention.) Also, thank you for your prolific and thorough critiques. I'm a more casual book fan and was tentatively excited to see the show forge a new narrative path while still guided by the same lifeblood, if you will. But at this point, hmmmmmm

I don't recall him commenting on it being about literal sex, THAT WAS ME EDITORIALZING LMAO.

I haven't been able to stomach the entire SDCC panel but I know they talked about it in there, I kinda peeked around for a transcript but didn't find one. ANYONE FEEL FREE TO SHARE THE DIRECT QUOTES please I don't have the strength. There's a summary article here, though, which touches on the convo a little:

(Don't even ask me to start unpacking the Fiona Apple comment dude what?)

This article also talks about the SDCC panel and doesn't directly quote him but it sums up:

There's just been article after articleeeeee of people who didn't read the books or just watched the film or whatever and keep going WOWIE IT'S NOT SUBTEXT, GREAT JOB, when like ? It was never subtext lol. And that's not entirely the show's fault, how mainstream perceives it, but they've been running with that and taking credit for it.

Like there's just been tons of headlines and praise like this -

I think the show & RJ have also been pretty blurry with how often they claim they're not a remake of the movie and yet constantly make digs at the movie and even reference it often on the show itself. So I think sometimes they're commenting on the movie when they forget they've already told us they're not remaking the movie. =P

There's also this quote (I didn't screenshot bc there's an ad in the middle LOL!) but:

"It’s aggressive subtext in the first book, but by the time you read books eight and nine, it was the love affair of the century. Without spoiling too much, subtext becomes text in our show."

(Let's not point out that books 8 & 9 are ... *checks notes* Blood & Gold and Blackwood Farm. Okaaaaaay Rolin. 😪)

Also sorry by love affair of the century do you mean Lestat goes around and has adventures and uses everyone while Louis stays safely tucked away at Armand's house until he's needed, or? Sorry lmfao I'm so fucking. dghadgkjs.

That interview is full of nonsense that will make you want to scream if you're feeling brave.

Anyway I feel like, I've been obsessively watching the production unfold for the past year and I kept getting so many red flags like there's been so many odd comments and little sexist quips, the complete misunderstanding (or lack of fucks) about what Claudia is supposed to mean in the story, etc. I just keep getting aggressive CISHET MAN vibes from this team and the lens they read VC through.

And yknow what, fair whatever I guess, we all read different versions of the same book and they're the ones that got to make it. But idk I like VC for the dark elegant spooky existential angst, I didn't need it to be gritty and open up with shit jokes. And five episodes in I didn't need it to use outdated, dangerous rape tropes and I also don't need it to oversell the domestic abuse. (Hint: Lestat was already abusive as fuck from the moment we met him, don't oversell!)

It's an okay show lmao. It's not recognizable as VC at all except that it recycles the names. None of the characters have been accurate so far. Even Lestat, where Sam Reid is doing so many fun things with his delivery and mannerisms that almost seem like Lestat, is just so fucking OOC and a caricature and just really lacks the depth and nuance and sensitivity of who he is in the books.

If you can turn your brain off and not look at it as VC there's some fun moments, but it's also full of continuity errors and just plot holes and bad writing when you look too close, so don't try to analyze it too hard or you'll have a bad time lol. Even the stuff that's really interesting and that they get right, they tend to lose interest in and drop, or they mix it into so much vampire soap opera shenanigans that it's hard to walk away knowing what the episode is actually about. It's just. Woof!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[haml3t]

I read so much news I’m going to start writing to journalists both those whom I like and those who write stupid shit. Starting with the guy from Time who put out this

motherfucking idiot

[leocancertaurus]

Renaissance, pt. 1

wc: 1.7k

cw: angst, talk of death

a/n: this will be just a quick lil two parter. i also wrote this bc i’m particularly hating white men today

part one| part two

Finally. Fucking finally this mission was over. You’d been on a no contact mission in South Africa for the past five years. Five! Five years away from your family, your friends, your team, your life. Your girlfriend! The mission was to bring down a Hydra base that was suspected of conducting experiments to create indestructible humanoids. Your initial contract was to be evaluated at the one year mark. The amount of intel that you acquired for S.H.I.E.L.D., would determine whether your contract was to be extended or concluded. Shockingly, every year your contract got extended. Steve was the commander for this mission, ultimately being the one to make those decisions. He was adamant that the intel that you’d recovered was all valuable but, he suspected that there was something bigger worth waiting for that could potentially bring all of Hydra down. A part of you was honored to be apart of something so monumental, even if it wasn’t necessarily ideal. Steve was a dear friend of yours. You knew for a fact that he deeply cared for you. Of course, you trusted his intuition on this. 

Your mind races as you stare out into the clouds. There are a few more hours left on the plane back to New York. You were so close to being dropped back into a life that you don’t know anymore. The state of the Avengers was unknown to you. Along with everyone else in the world, you’d seen the news of what had happened in Sokovia. But, you’d seen no other headlines regarding the team in the years following that. Unfortunately, that means you’ve gone this long without even a glimpse of your girlfriend, Natasha. Could you still call her that? She has every right to have moved on. You would try to understand if she had. Selfishly, you hoped she didn’t. You hoped that she waited like she swore she would. But, neither of you expected for you to be gone for this long.

 Natasha has always consumed your every waking thought. Not a day passed where you weren’t thinking about what she may be doing at that moment, or what missions she’s been on, or what’s currently putting a smile on her face. What music has she been listening to? What has she been reading? Who has she become? You’re preparing yourself to be in her arms again. You can just feel it: your head lying on her chest as you reacquaint yourself with the cadence of her heart beat. The scent of her shampoo, forbidding you from acknowledging any other reality outside of her grasp. 

The plane's wheels slamming on the tarmac jolt you awake. You check the time on your watch. It’s late in the morning. Hopefully meaning the teams around for lunch. You lay eyes on the new compound. Of course, Stark had to go all out. You couldn’t wait for him to tell you all about it. Tony was extremely close to you. He was the reason that you’d even become a part of the Avenger’s initiative. He was the first person to believe in you. Your body buzzes at the thought of seeing the people closest to you in mere moments. You throw your bag over your shoulder and enter the compound. It was eerily quiet. You decide to show yourself around and hopefully find someone. Preferably, Natasha. 

 Shortly into your self-guided tour, you find yourself in the kitchen. You still had yet to set eyes on a single person. Your stomach roars, convincing you that it was time to eat something following your overnight flight. You swipe a couple pieces of fruit to hold you over. You stand in front of the floor to ceiling windows.

It feels bizarre to be back. You’ve lived a substantial chunk of your life as someone else and now you’re just Y/n again. What does that even mean? Who are you? What are you? You lose track of time, standing here taking in the view of the bright blue sky and the waves crashing along the shore. An audible gasp prohibits you from spiraling further. You look across the room directly into the bright green eyes that you dreamed of for the past 5 years. 

“Y/n?” she breathes as the color drains from her face. 

“Tasha,” you don’t hold back your tears in the slightest as you move to approach her. 

She just stares at you. She doesn’t say a word. 

You attempt to help her break out of it with an awkward, teary chuckle, “Why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?”

“Y/n, how are you here right now?” She demands.

“My mission ended, love. I’m back.” You glance at her hand. Immediately noticing a large diamond ring adorning her finger. Fuck. Not ideal but. 5 years is a long time to wait for someone. Hopefully, whoever this person is treats her– 

“No. I mean, how are you here? As in, alive?” Natasha strains through fresh tears. 

“Wait what?” You’re startled by the question, “You thought I was dead?”

“Everyone does. You died 4 years ago, Y/n. We had a funeral and everything. Is this some sick fucking joke?” Her voice is raspy and strained. 

“Tash, why would I play like that? I didn’t-” you’re interrupting by squealing. 

A little boy barrels into Natasha’s legs, “Mommy! Mommy! You have to help me find a good hiding spot! Fast!” 

Natasha, ever the professional at putting up a mask, wipes the tears from her eyes and crouches down to the young boy’s level, putting on a smile just for him. “Stevie, honey, Mommy is a little busy right now. Maybe Uncle Bucky can help you?”

Your feet are glued where you stand. This was becoming way too much, way too quickly. It would take you some time to process any one of the new updates that you just learned, but all of it at once caused your chest to burn. Every ounce of control you had was working overtime to keep the bile down. 

 The child's eyes meet your own, “What’s your name?” he asks. 

“Y/n,” you purse your lips into a tight smile.

“Hi Y/n!” he waves at you, “Bye Y/n!” he turns to run out of the room, likely going to find Bucky, when he’s lifted off of the ground. 

“Did you even try to hide?” Steve tickled the boy as he wriggled in his grasp. 

“Daddy, please no!,” Stevie squeals, trying to break away. 

Your head snaps back toward Natasha at the title. Still, she can read you like a book. You were trying not to react. Yet, every word you didn’t say, Natasha could read through your eyes. She deeply inhales trying to quickly think of a possible course of action.  She knows that this is all way too much, way too soon. 

“You ready to go, Nat? Our flight leaves in–” Steve feigns shock. “Woah, Y/n? You’re back?” 

All you have to offer is a small nod. Steve attempts to read the room, looking at you and then Natasha, refusing to be the first to speak. 

“Stevie, can you go down the hallway to your Uncle Bucky’s office please? I’ll come get you when I’m done okay?” She removes her son from Steve’s arms, kissing him on his head as she points him in the right direction. 

Once he’s out of ear shot, Natasha turns back to you and Steve. Your arms are tightly wrapped around your own torso and there's a deep wrinkle in your brow. She hopes that you’d look at her but, she knows you won’t at this moment. Her eyes land on Steve, whose expression mirrors yours.

“Steve. Please. Please, explain to me how Y/n is standing here right now?”

“There had to be some kind of misunderstanding, doll. I-I’m not so sure,” he approaches his wife and places a hand on her shoulder. He looks at you again, worry plastered across his face. 

“Everyone thinks I’m dead,” you reflect to yourself. It’s all you can get out. But, you’d been checking in with Steve. He knew that you weren’t dead. Natasha needed to know this. You needed to tell her but, your voice was trapped deep within the confines of your chest, clawing to come out. The room felt as if it were quickly closing in on you. There wasn’t enough air in here. Natasha notices your demeanor and quickly intervenes. She gently grabs your hands, hoping that it’d ground you just enough. They were softer than you remember. To think, you were holding Natasha’s hands again under such circumstances. She leads you to a chair at the table. 

“There had to be some kind of mix up with the files or something. We’ll figure this out, Y/n, I swear.”

“Steve, a glass of water please,” she directs at the man who dared not participate in comforting you. 

“Look, Nat. I know this is sudden and unexpected but, we can’t miss that flight,” Steve tells Natasha as he places a glass of water in front of you. Your focused on Natasha’s hand in yours. You can’t quite hear anything other than mumbling over the thoughts plaguing your mind and your ears throbbing. You jump at the speed in which Natasha’s head whips around to face Steve. 

“Fuck that flight, Steve! Are you insane?! The person that you watched me grieve is sitting right in front of me and you’re expecting me to just act normal and fly halfway across the world? Do you really think now is the time for that?” Natasha’s face is overcome with a deep shade of red.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. We’ll get this all sorted,” he clumsily clears his throat. His eyes bounce between you and Natasha. Natasha gives you her focus again. She’s kneeling in front of you trying to gauge what you may need from her. This causes the both of you to miss the look of disdain that flashes across Steve’s face in reaction to how quickly Natasha stepped up to take care of you. 

[barnesafterglow]

xoxo

summary: you and bucky are trying to deal with the aftermath of becca's actions. little do you know, that was just the start.

pairing: bfb!bucky x f!reader

word count: 5.1k

warnings: lots of language, an insane amount of gossip girl posts, a smidge of angst but everything works out, talk of sextapes/porn, blackmail, becca is a crazy bitch, reference to mental health issues/therapy, btw bucky (and the boys) are a year older than y/n and becca, Y/I means 'your initals'

a/n: so i finally wrote a part two of 'super rich kids' !! i hope this does it justice, because i never really planned to continue this, but then i had some ideas. this took me about a week to finish bc i kept hitting a block but anyways sorry to anyone who wanted redemption for becca enjoy!!

you can read part one here!

Hey Upper East Siders, I bet you’re wondering what happened next. Don’t you worry, I’m here to tell the tale.

xoxo, Gossip Girl

--

It had been six months. Six. Months. And Becca was still seething about you and Bucky. While the headlines had stopped, Becca still made sure to tell whoever she could. It was honestly more comical than anything at this point, because she had lost the respect of most of your friends. But those she paid to keep around remained by her side.

Regardless of whether or not you and Bucky were splashed across the front page of a gossip magazine, there was still a tension that lingered at the rift between you and your best friend, and him and his sister. You all kept pretending everything was okay, but you could tell Bucky missed his sister, regardless of what she had done - she was still family. You knew he was far from forgiving her, but having such a looming cloud over his head was starting to get to him.

“Hey Buck, what do you want for dinner tonight?” You all hadn’t spoken all day. Unfortunately this wasn’t unusual for the last couple of weeks. Even so, you managed to get in bed every night and talk like nothing was wrong, and for that you were grateful. Though when a few minutes went by and you still hadn’t gotten a response from Bucky, you were a bit worried.

You walked into the living room to find Bucky hunched over his laptop, obviously stressed. He had just graduated, and while he didn’t need a job, he wanted to work, wanted to put his degree to use. You figured he must still be looking at jobs, trying to find the right fit for him. But when you sat down beside him, head resting on his shoulder, it wasn’t an application across his screen.

This just in: Brother Barnes and his pretty little thing are ditching the high life for a new career path. I didn’t know Manhattan bred porn stars. Make sure to check it out… if you’re brave enough.

xoxo, Gossip Girl

“What the fuck is gossip girl?” Your jaw was on the floor, your heart was in your throat, and if you didn’t breathe soon you were going to pass out. An intimate moment in yours and Bucky’s life was online for everyone to see. The worst thing is, this wasn’t TMZ or Cosmo, it was a site that you had never seen before, but was already buzzing. You saw names of people you had known your whole life, commenting on your movie with Bucky.

Jesus, had Bucky done this? Maybe that’s why he had been so distant. You had no recollection of ever being recorded, or at least agreeing to it, so the only option seemed to be that Bucky had set it up without your knowledge. Did he mean to post it, though, or did it just get leaked?

“James, did you do this? Please tell me you didn’t do this,” voice barely above a whisper, you trembled, tears finally rolling down your cheeks as he met your eyes.

“Are you kidding me? Of course not! I would never do anything like that, I can’t believe you would even ask me. You’re crazy.” Your tears turned from that of fear to ones of fury. Although you were hoping his reaction came from the stress of the situation, you couldn’t help but think he sounded a little defensive.

“I’m crazy? I’m not the one who posted our sex life all over the internet like some amatuer porn star! Is that what gets you off now? Or were you just bored? I know things haven’t been the same but this is just a low. I thought I could trust you.” You had always been able to read Bucky like an open book. For you, he wore his heart on his sleeve - always had. But right now it was like he built a wall of steel around himself, and you had know idea what was going on behind those blue eyes.

“If that’s how you feel about me, then I don’t think you know me at all,” his teeth clenched so hard you could barely make out the words. You had never seen him this angry. Something deep down told you it wasn’t all directed at you, but that didn’t matter right now. “It seems like I don’t know you, either. Maybe we just need to take a break until we can figure this out.”

Your anger quickly fizzled out. You knew he didn’t want it, but you did know he meant it. And that made your heart break just as much. You didn’t even have the words to fight about it, it’s just what had to be done. As he packed a bag, you sat on the bed watching him, until he kneeled down right in front of you.

“I love you, never forget that.” His words were so soft, they broke the dam of tears you’d been holding back. As they silently streamed down your cheeks, he pressed a kiss to your foreheads and gave you one last glance before walking out of the room. You could barely hear the front door close over the breaking of your heart.

--

Bucky hadn’t seen the inside of his house in months. Once it became clear Becca was not getting over anything, Bucky moved in with you. Now, his room didn’t even look like his room. There was no sign of his daily life, the only thing that still remained were the picture frames on his desk. Walking over, he picked up his favorite one - a picture of you, Bucky, and Becca at their house in the Hamptons. It was the summer you were 16, before either of you really knew you loved each other. Bucky was in the middle, long arms thrown over the shoulders of his two favorite girls; Beck was looking at the camera with her signature smile, but you and Bucky were looking at each other laughing. It was a wonder it took you all so long to realize your feelings.

A sharp knock on his door frame pulled him out of his thoughts, and his gaze landing on his sister reminded him why he was here.

“Hey, Bucky-bear. What are you doing at home? Just here to see your dear sister - or did you finally drop that skank?” Becca laughed as if she had just told the funniest joke in the world. It was infuriating. “I’m just kidding, really. I’m glad you’re here, I always knew you would come home, I know you so well. And I missed my brother so much.” She came over to wrap her arms around his frame, not missing a beat even when his body tensed up. She simply skipped back towards her room, going on about where they would go for dinner tonight.

Spotted: The Barnes siblings reuniting over a dinner of Italian, sans their favorite girl. Is this just a coincidence, or has Beck finally dragged Bucky back to the palace? Only time will tell.

xoxo, Gossip Girl

Gossip Girl was quickly taking over the Upper East Side. In just two weeks, more dirt had been dumped than your entire high school career. Affairs were outed, scandals unearthed, and no one was safe. The biggest hit, however, was focused on the crumbling relationship between you and Bucky. At least once a day, a picture of one of you emerged, with some ridiculous rumor swirling. So far Bucky had apparently partook in a threesome at his favorite rooftop pool, and you were dating some British royal of which no one knew the name.

It was becoming ridiculous. Nothing was real, but no one cared as long as they had something to talk about. And still none of that bothered you as much as the fact that you hadn’t seen Bucky. The two of you had exchanged some texts, mostly to assure the other that Gossip Girl was very much wrong. Other than that, well, you didn’t know.

All you could do was hope that would blow over soon, and that you and Bucky could fix things. But that possibility seemed further away as more time passed. Gossip Girl couldn’t get enough; each post more vicious than the last. And then started more and more posts about Bucky. He was partying again, almost every night. There had been no pictures of him with a girl, yet, but you had a sick feeling it wasn’t too far off. It seemed foolish to think that things could have worked out; that you and Bucky were meant to be. You both loved each other, that you knew for sure, but your best guess was that for whatever reason, the two of you just couldn’t be together. As hard as it was to accept, you were determined to let him be happy.

That didn’t mean you were ready to move on, though. And when you thought you were at your lowest, a knock came to your front door.

You trudged through the apartment, ready to tell whoever was there - probably Natasha with a bottle of vodka - that you weren’t in the mood. But your first glance at the looming figure had you flinging open the door and jumping into his arms.

“Samuel Wilson, what are you doing here!” It had been almost two years since he had decided to move across the country for college, and while he kept in touch, he hadn’t come back. You got it, he hated the drama that came with living among the elite. Really, you admired him for doing what he truly wanted - even with the threat of getting cut off.

Once you finally released him from your koala hold, you stepped back with the biggest smile that had graced your lips since Bucky left. You really just couldn’t believe he was here. Growing up, he had been the final piece of Steve and Bucky’s trio. They were more like brothers than anything, with the constant bickering and tough love, and it was never entirely the same without him.

“Come on, baby girl, you know I couldn’t stand to leave you alone for too long.” You opened your mouth to protest that two years was more than too long, but it didn’t matter since he was here now. “I’m back, at least for a little bit. As it turns out, having a degree doesn’t mean you magically know what you want to do with your life. So, here I am, ready to live it up with my favorite people.”

“Your favorite people are a bit of a mess right now, I’m afraid.” His confused face made you giggle, and not wanting him to be in the dark, you offered him a proposal. “I’ll tell you about it as long as you pay for lunch.”

His laugh followed you all the way to your bedroom as you began to get ready.

--

“Fucking Gossip Girl? What, are we back in high school?” To say he wasn’t pleased about what had been going on in his absence was an understatement. “Also you and Bucky? That’s great, I was worried I would have to listen to him pine over you just like when I left.”

You rolled your eyes before countering, “Did you listen to a word I said? Bucky and I are over, at least I think we’re over. Point is, we’re not speaking and he’s out clubbing while I’ve been home with ice cream and trashy TV. I wouldn’t say we’re on the road to recovery.”

“That boy has been in love with you as long as I’ve known him, I wouldn’t be too worried. If anything, I’ll knock some sense into him the second I see him.”

You reached over the table and squeezed his hand, grateful to have one of your best friends back.

Looks like Sam is back in town, and he’s already made a move on Bucky’s girl. We should have known his charm was irresistible, and that he wouldn’t waste a second. You snooze, you lose, Barnes. Time to move on.

xoxo, Gossip Girl

James Buchanan Barnes, for as much of an asshole as he could be, was not quick to anger. But right now, he was goddamn furious.

It had been almost two weeks since he had found out Becca was Gossip Girl. Two weeks of her blackmailing him so that he wouldn’t tell anyone, especially his girlfriend. His girlfriend. Fuck. Was she even his girlfriend anymore? He guessed not; he had technically broken up with her - or “taken a break” to be more exact. But he figured this would all blow over and then they would be fine. He had gotten worried at first about these “blasts” from Gossip Girl, spreading rumors, until you texted him to assure that there was nothing going on with anyone, and that you missed him. He believed you, of course, but there was a nagging in the back of his mind that something wasn’t right. And then he found out about Becca.

“No, Sharon, I was right. He came back home, everything worked out perfectly.” A long pause followed. “Of course I’m not going to stop. This is the most fun I’ve had since high school.” Her voice started to gradually become more irritated. “I don’t care, S! Nobody is really getting hurt, they’re just being a bunch of babies. I don’t care that we just started this to get Bucky back, Gossip Girl was the best idea I’ve ever had.”

“What the fuck, Rebecca!” Bucky charged into the kitchen. He was coming down to get a drink when he heard Becca arguing with someone on the phone, and was about to turn around when he heard his name. “This bullshit has been you? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

And she had the nerve to laugh. Laugh. Like this was all some game to her. Which, when he really thought about it, it all was.

“Oh, Bucky-bear. You weren’t supposed to find out this way. Or at all, though I don’t really care. You needed to come to your senses, and it was the only way I could get you to understand. And look how it all turned out! You’re back home where you belong, and you don’t have to worry about that whore anymore.”

That nearly threw him into a fit. He wanted to punch the wall and throw things and demand answers. But that’s not how Becca worked. She needed to give out the information on her own - had to feel like she was taunting it. So he stayed quiet, waiting for her to tell him more.

“And then, you know, it turned out to be so much fun. No drama ever happens anymore, and the fact that I was the one creating it gave me such a thrill. I couldn’t possibly stop.”

“Like hell you won’t stop. Once I tell everyone what a sick fuck you are, you’ll never recover.” Composure be damned, he was fuming now. His sister, his own goddamn flesh and blood, had released a sextape of him and her best friend. That had to be illegal right? Wasn’t revenge porn a thing? God, this was going to ruin her.

“Oh, you think you’re just gonna waltz out of here and tell everyone? You’re very sorely mistaken, big brother. I have much worse shit on you than a 30 second clip of you screwing half naked. It’s amazing what kind of freaky fuckery people get up to when they don’t realize they’re being recorded in their own homes. The second you run your mouth, I’ll fucking destroy you.”

And so for two weeks, he had been racking his brain, trying to come up with a plan. All he wanted to do was talk to you, but he felt like that would set Becca over the edge too, and he wanted to have that plan first.

So while Becca was out shopping for a new outfit for the party tonight, Bucky snuck into her room in search of some answers, or really just a hail mary.

Thank god Becca was running late for her plans, because in her rush, she had left her laptop open and unlocked. Bucky started digging, knowing he had at least a couple hours, and found a file with seemingly every bit of information she’s accumulated as Gossip Girl. As much as he would love to be a good person, the only thing that really concerned him was a folder under your name. Really subtle, Becca.

But all he found are the recent pictures of you out, some less than flattering shots of you throughout the apartment, and an audio file that’s full of Bucky’s filthy mouth. Plus that fucking sextape. Other than that, there’s nothing. Not even in his folder, except for pictures of him when Becca blackmailed him into clubs and parties. She was lying, all to get Bucky back under her thumb.

He quickly deleted all of her files, making sure the drive was empty, before trying to call you. Even though he called her three times, all three went to voicemail. Starting to freak out, he prepared to rush to her apartment, then he got a text from Sam, asking him if he was going to the party tonight, and also letting him know that he would be showing up with you, as a friend. Bucky felt a sense of relief, and decided he would just speak to you tonight - plus that gave him a chance to form a real apology for how much of a dick he’s been.

Look alive, there’s a party brewing tonight and I’ve heard it’s gonna be a real hit. Make sure you bring your popcorn, you won’t wanna miss this.

xoxo, Gossip Girl

You were only going to this party for Sam. As far as you were concerned, Netflix on your couch was a much better idea. But in the wise words of Mr. Sam Wilson: there’s no party like a NYC party. Whatever, at least you looked good. All you planned to do was latch onto Sam while he made his rounds, then drag him back to your apartment so you could con him into a Jersey Shore marathon. And you really hoped you didn’t see Bucky - you just didn’t think you could deal with him tonight.

Lucky for you, he’s the first person you see as soon as you walk through the fucking doors. God was really playing a fun game here. You gave him a nod and headed for the kitchen, and you could see in his eyes how bad he wanted to follow you. Instead, he opted to greet his friend, and try to catch up with you later. Leaning against the counter, sipping from your cup, you saw Wanda fly into the room, obviously looking for something. Her eyes narrowed in on you before grabbing your arm and dragging you into the hallway, spilling half your drink in the process. Before you could even open your mouth, a jumble of words came rushing out of her.

“Becca’s here and she said she’s on a mission to find you and Sharon’s here and you know they’re no good together and Y/N you need to get out of here.” Her breath is coming out and pants and it takes a second for your brain to comprehend her words.

“W, I’m not scared of Becca. There’s nothing she can possibly do that’ll make this worse. I’m sick of giving her the upper hand; as much as I don’t want to be here, I have every damn right, and these are my friends. I’m not leaving.”

“She said she has something on you, something big, and that she’s going to send it to Gossip Girl if you don’t do what she wants. Before you ask, no I don’t know what it is, but I think you need to go and figure it out before she confronts you.”

While you didn’t give a shit about what else she supposedly had on you, you really didn’t have the energy to deal with her right now, so you just nodded. As you turned on your heel to head back towards the front door, you made eye contact with Bucky, spotting Becca over his shoulder. Before you could even think, he had grabbed you by the arm, pulling you close to him. He led you back through the kitchen and hallway, into an empty bedroom. You didn’t say anything until you were behind the closed door, not wanting to make a scene. But the second you heard the lock click, your emotions overcame you.

“What the hell, Buck? We don’t talk for weeks and all of a sudden you want to be my knight in shining armor? You spend weeks under the same roof as her and suddenly you’re on my side? I don’t get it. You broke up with me. So what’s your angle here?” Your hands were shaking and your breath was shallow, but you refused to cry right now. All these months you hadn’t let yourself breakdown, you weren’t about to start now. The only thing you wanted was to be wrapped in Bucky’s arms, but that wasn’t an option either.

“It’s her. Y/N, Becca is Gossip Girl.” If you thought you were having trouble breathing before, it was nothing compared now. Of course it was her. Who else could possibly be this cruel? “Please believe me when I say that I am so sorry. I found out a couple of days after I- well, after I started staying there. I overheard her on the phone, talking to Sharon. They planned the whole thing to get us to break up, but Becca just… she just didn’t want to stop. The first thing I wanted to do was tell you, so we could tell everyone else. But she told me she had more on us, that she was recording in the apartment. She held that over me to get anything she wanted. I couldn’t risk it, not when it involved you.”

So Wanda was right, Becca did have more. If she had been recording in your apartment, she could have anything. You had to get out of there, now. Bucky must have seen the panic written all over your face, because he wrapped his arms around you, softly rubbing circles along your back.

“She was lying. I searched her computer; she was lying. She’s messed up, and I think she needs help, but there’s nothing to worry about.” At his words, you finally broke down. The only thing keeping you on your feet was Bucky’s arms, and you let every pent up emotion free. It was like a roller coaster, but the more you let it out, the more your sadness and sorrow faded away, and your anger took the forefront.

You didn’t give a fuck about what might be wrong with her, the fact of that matter was that she had invaded your privacy, she had put both yours and Bucky’s futures and potential careers at stake. And she didn’t have a second thought about it. It was unimaginable, trying to wrap your head around it. She had no excuse, no sense of guilt, and you wanted to make sure she got put in her place.

You pushed yourself off Bucky, giving him a searing kiss, before whispering an I love you and heading towards the door. Becca stood in the middle of the living room, talked to Sharon, who nodded her head at you as you walked up to them. You could tell by the look on her face that she had been waiting to see you all night. But before you could say a word, you grabbed her by the hair and pushed her up against the wall.

“You conniving little bitch. You think you can get away with fucking anything. You’ve gone unchecked for too long and you are fucking done. Do you understand?” You took a step back, knowing you now had the attention of everyone at the party. “Anyone curious about Gossip Girl? Does anyone want to know who’s been spreading lies and trying to ruin everyone? Well you’re looking at her right now. Rebecca Barnes, we all knew she was evil, but did you expect this? I certainly should have.” Eyes still burning with rage, you turned back to her. “You’re done, Beck. Done.”

Not wanting to let her get another word in, you grabbed her arm and pulled her out the front door, down the elevator and through the lobby until you were out on the sidewalk.

“I should rip your hair out right here, but unlike you, I have class. Plus, you know I have the power to do much worse.” You felt a hand on your lower back, and turned to see that Bucky had followed you. His eyes calmed you, and you let go of Becca’s arm in order to pull out your phone. They both looked at you in utter confusion, but you just pressed the call without a word.

“Hi, Winnie, I’ve missed you so much.” A pause. “You’re back in the city? I didn’t know that! You’ve just been gone so long.” As she responds, you see that Becca has gone pale in the face. It was a power move, to call their mother, and you knew it. Winnifred Barnes had always held a soft spot for you, even more so than her own daughter at times; you suspected this was because you treated her with respect and loved her just like your own mom, whereas Becca had always possessed that mean streak, and her attitude didn’t stop with her mother. You always tried to cushion her blows, even when you all were younger, and it put a little bit of hope back into Winnie’s heart.

“Yes, I promise I’ll come over for lunch soon, but I should probably get around to why I called.” You told her every last detail, from the start of it six months ago, down to the last two weeks. Even Bucky looked queasy at the thought of what his mother might do with this information. “So you can see, dear, why I had to get you involved. We’re just so worried for her, and her mental state, of course. I know you tried to raise us all with a good head on our shoulders, so I knew you would be able to take care of everything… I’ll keep her safe until you get here, don’t worry. I’ll see you soon, ma. Kisses.”

Becca looked absolutely petrified as you put your phone back in your purse, but that only put a smug smile on your face. “What did you do? I won’t see the city again for years, you know that. I mean they sent Sarah to rehab in Philly just because they caught her with a joint once.” She couldn’t help her voice from shaking, and you almost felt bad.

“You need help, Rebecca. This isn’t okay; it’s not normal. I think some time away from the city will be good for you, anyways. Even with what you did, you’re not evil, but you need to face the consequences for your actions that were.” As much as you wanted to continue your lecture, Winnie’s car pulling up to the curb stopped you. She stepped out of the backseat and came over to kiss both you and Bucky on the cheek before turning her attention to her daughter, placing a hand on each of her shoulders.

“I already talked to your father, honey. We decided it’s best if you take a little break from everything going on. You know your dad’s cousins, out in Minnesota? We know they’d be more than willing to take you in while we get you set up with a therapist. You can even transfer to the university there, if you want, or take some time off from school altogether. All we want is what’s best for you. Give it some time, and we’ll take everything after as it comes.”

Becca just looked defeated climbing into the backseat, not bothering to take a glance back as the car drove off. You may never forgive her, but she deserved a chance to figure her shit out, just as much as anyone else; you could only hope she would actually take the help being given.

Bucky pulled you out of your thoughts by cupping your face in both of his hands, eyes brimming with tears. “I’m sorry you even had to do that, I’m sorry any of this happened. If I could go back into time, I would change everything - I would have stayed by your side through all of this. Hell, I would go back to when I was 17 and tell Becca to hell with her problems, because I was in love with you. As much as I would like to change, I have no regrets as long as it got me to your side. You’re home, where I’m meant to be. I don’t need anything else.”

Just when you thought you had cried it all out, tears were streaming down your face as he pulled you flush against his body, kissing you like his life depended on it. He gave you every ounce of apology and love through his lips, and it felt just like he had described: home.

Spotted: B and Y/I making out- I mean making up outside the party of the year. Looks like they’re getting their happy ending. Unfortunately for Beck, every fairytale needs an evil to be defeated, and Mama Barnes looks an awful lot like a satisfied fairy godmother from where I’m standing. Count your blessings, everyone, it’s hard to tell when a fairytale takes a turn into a horror story. Just hope that you either way, you have a hero to come save you. Enjoy life while you can, my pretties.

happily ever after, Gossip Girl

tagging some frens *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

@lovinggbarnes @artisancowbells @comfortbucky @starrysebastians @starbuckie @calisamcro @buckys-darling @angrythingstarlight @asgardwinter @gray-reads @pellucid-constellations @igotnoname4thisblog @signofthebarnes @cupidsbarnes

[actualbird]

Hello, Zak!! "Reviews for Time's Antiquities" is absolutely hilarious and now you've ignited a desire for me to find more fics told in a series of reviews like this dtudutdit

Oh my god making the old woman who mentions Luke feeding the cats be the one to say the meme is perfect. Luke does have a good heart that five star review is more than deserved!!

"Adequate" being the nicest thing Vyn has ever said to Luke is so fitting drsuteut he'll go full Marius in this fic for mc and mc only, everyone else has to be content with just being satisfactory.

If Vyn put the gnomes outside the NXX building I wonder if it'd scare away some of the people who keep intruding into the building somehow.

MARIUS' REVIEW HELPPP I love it so much!!!! He's just waxing poetic about Luke in the reviews section and you know what Luke deserves it.

Look if GrannyofCats' review was allowed to stay up I think Luke should allow Aaron's review to stay up too it's only fair.

Ted has a point what is wrong with Stellis. It feels like every single chapter brings headlining news with it and some of them occur back to back. Anonymous get out while you still can.

Fhifyifgif poor Kanon, what did he do to deserve Artem's disdain.

You know what I think we should all give Anonymous a pat on the back for watching all this go down without having a single clue about what is going on. Hell of a welcome to Stellis, at least they know exactly where to find extremely vague and worrying information about Stellis' latest big crime.

Absolutely wonderful fic, thank you for writing this. I wish I had the brainpower to pull a Marius and wax poetic for this fic but alas I do not so I'll just leave this instead: 5 Stars!

🌌

eyyo milkyway :D!!! thank u for reading "reviews for Time's Antiquities, South Stellis | Average Rating: 4.8 Stars" and jhvJKVKJH WE BACK AT IT AGAIN WITH THE UNCOMMON FIC FORMATS!!

uncommon fic formats, especially ones that are told thru online medias, will always be my guilty pleasure (sans the guilt but u get what i mean). theyre just such Immense fun, whether it be a serious story or a silly one. online media fics my beloved...

GrannyOfCats is SO RIGHT. vyn is also so funny for writing a review thats straight up praise and rating 5 stars and then he gets hit was his allergy of outright sincerity and is like "alright, reel it back"

oh my god, gnomes as NXX GUARD STATUES JHVKJHFDS!! i adore that so much, but it'll come with the caveat of luke walking past them So Very Fast and not making eye contact bc he finds them so inexplicably creepy. he doesnt even mod the gnomes to have cctv or be able to shoot tranq darts, hes sure that the gnomes, by virture of being off putting gnomes, is enough to ward away most people

marius' wall of text review was by far my favorite thing to write. i never forget hes an art student and that he has in canon said some beautiful ass lines chock full of romance and adoration. and hes really sorry for eating luke's sweets.

aaron left that review cuz luke has been ignoring his texts abt the whole deal. one day, aaron will physically drag luke to therapy and wait outside to make sure luke doesnt jump-tuck-and-roll out thru the window. but that day is not today.

ted being the one to break it to anonymous reviewer that stellis is whack is wholly inspired by his one line back in luke's perso story 3 when luke was fucking beating up aran audibly and ted was like "UHHHHHH..." and mc was just like "//eye twitch. dont worry about it, dont think about it too hard"

artem having beef with kanon is forever gonna be my favorite minor detail in tot. like, yea i know it was only mentioned in ssr atmospherics, but it's just so funny to me to think that artem held that grudge for Forever. he shld get to have his petty moments, methinks

and YEP, anonymous reviewer is rlly going thru it JHVSKJHFSVDJF. welcome to stellis, anonymous reviewer. it only gets weirder from here on out

thank u so much for this lovely comment and 5 star rating hehe :'D

[leerongrong]

of dispatch and jealousy.

Pairing: Mark Lee x Reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Summary: In which you’re dragged into a dating scandal with your not-so-boyfriend Jaemin and actual boyfriend Mark gets jealous.

Requested: yess!! what if you wrote a mark x idol!reader where she’s best friends with dream and he gets jealous over her being on a variety show with jaemin and she never leaves jaemin’s  side during it bc she’s nervous and he’s the only one she knows?

“Just relax.” Bright studio lights are somewhat blinding, they stand tall and loom over the figures standing side by side to each other. The studio’s buzzing with life as staff and crew members hustle around the space to prepare the stars for their filming schedule, one of them standing in front of you to add finishing touches to your makeup while another behind you, adding hair spray to your already frigid hair. Your eyes are trailing to the side, where you see one of your best friends in a similar condition. “Besides, you look prettier when you smile.”

The smile that breaks out on Jaemin’s face is sweet, the same one you always see him wear on camera, and it’s almost contagious that your lips start to stretch into one. You and Jaemin are currently on set for a variety show, sent as SM’s representatives along with a few other groups from other agencies, all of them unknown people to you, knowing none of them with only Jaemin as your companion.

“Mark-hyung agrees with me too.” He’s putting both of his hands on his waist, in a mocking fashion along with puffing his chest out and trying his best in imitating Mark’s voice. “She’s so pretty when she smiles- I mean she’s always pretty but like especially when she smiles, the really big one you know? Honestly every one of her smiles are angelic but- you get what i mean right, Jaems?”

The giggle he pulls out of you is angelic, shaking your whole body while your lips form into a smile. Jaemin’s been the only few people who could pull a genuine smile out of you, the other one being Mark Lee, your otherwise current boyfriend of 6 months.

Jaemin was the one who introduced you, claiming with a wink that, “The two of you were meant for each other.” and while you’d never been one for measly crushes, you couldn’t deny the fact that Mark had you enamoured by your 3rd meet up with him. You both had hit it off enough to write your tittle song together, the one which you used to confess your feelings to him and had hit number 1 in Melon the same day the two of you had gotten together, talk about a win win.

“You really shouldn’t day dream about Hyung here.” Jaemin’s face is up close to yours and he has a teasing smile on his face as he boops your nose along with jabbing his fingers into your stomach. “People could find out.”

Your hairstylist rolls her eyes at the two of you, clearly entertained by your jabs and nicks at each other. She adds another clip into your hair before parting on her way while your eyes are scanning the other idols, along with Jaemin, smiling politely when one of them sends a wave your way.

“Everyone! Let’s get started!”

Thinking back on the variety show you did with Jaemin a few months ago, you couldn’t think of anything wrong. It had gone of smoothly, both the MC’s and other idols had been nothing but sweet to you, some even ended up being your friend afterwards. But as you’re sitting down in your own dorm, phone in hand while scrolling down the multiple headlines and news about you and Jaemin supposedly dating, you suppose you guessed wrong.

(BREAKING) DIspatch Reveals NCT Dream’s Na Jaemin and Soloist Y/N Are Dating.

Dispatch has confirmed another 2020′s SM Couple: NCT Dream’s Na Jaemin and Soloist Y/N!

Every year, Korean news outlet Dispatch rings in by revealing new celebrity couples to the public. This year, they released photos proving that NCT Dream’s Na Jaemin and Soloist Y/N have been secretly seeing each other.

According to Dispatch, Jaemin picked Y/N up at her dorm after shortly coming back from his sold out world tour, the two wearing masks and hats to cover their faces before they went to a restaurant for their date.

Dispatch also caught the couple walking while holding hands with each other very often, in between schedules or at filming sights. One of which is weekly idol, where a leaked footage reveals the couple acting very lovey dovey with each other on set.

The dorm is silent, not one sound in the air. The clock is ticking soundly while the cooked dinner you had set up slowly begins to become cold with the amount of time you’ve chosen to scroll down your phone while biting at your nails.

user 0945: i think they’re cute with each other.

user 4790: shouldn’t she be focusing on her career first? she debuts in SM and she’s wasting her time on dating? what an idiot.

user 6905: what does jaemin even see in her?

user 4823: she’s human too! it should be her choice to date.

user 8755: they’ve been dating for 2 years? wow.. we really don’t know our idols after all..

You’re taking in one comment after the other, some of your fans shipping you with Jaemin while others are bashing at the fact that you’ve chosen to get a boyfriend, claiming you as theirs to begin with. Your heart is filled with anxiety, a feeling of everything closing in at once and you’re taking in deep breaths to reduce the amount of stress you feel in your system.

Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding! You have 25 new messages.

[22:10] Lee MinMark sent a message.

Babe? Are you okay?

[22:11] Lee MinMark sent a message.

Babe, please read your texts.

[22:12] You have one (1) missed voice call from Lee MinMark.

[22:13] Lee MinMark sent a message.

Answer your phone. Please. I need to know if you’re okay.

[22:13] Lee MinMark sent a voicemall.

[22:15] You have two (2) missed voice calls from Lee MinMark.

[22:15] “Lover” Boy Nana sent a message.

so we’re dating now??

[22:15] “Lover” Boy Nana sent a message.

does hyung know about this??

[22:17] You have four (4) missed voice call from Lee MinMark.

[22:17] “Lover” Boy Nana sent a message.

hyung looks worried and pissed

[22:17] Boss Manager sent a message.

Do not give any information to the press. You need to stay quiet until this blows over.

[22:17] You have seven (7) missed voice calls from Lee MinMark.

[22:18] Boss Manager sent a message.

Come to the office tomorrow. We need to have a talk.

[22:19] Lee MinMark sent a message.

Fuck it. I’m coming over.

[22:20] “Lover” Boy Nana sent a message. 

hyung’s coming over to you!

[23:07] Boss Manager sent a message.

Stay calm and be safe.

Your ears perk up when multiple knocks come from the door, fast and more urgent one after the other, turning into rapped jabs at the wooden surface. It soon turns into outright banging and your phone falls down to the carpeted floor below at the sound. You’re raising yourself up on shaky feet, slowly reaching out to grab the emergency bat beside the door and tiptoeing to peep through the fish eye door camera you installed for emergencies like this.

The door bursts open and you’re yelping, swinging the bat blindly at the unknown person in your home. “It’s me! It’s me! It’s Mark!”

“Mark? Are you out of your mind!?” The bat mistakenly hits Mark on his shoulder, him letting out a groan and kneeling down while clutching his injured shoulder. “I’m sorry! Oh My God. Are you okay?”

The door shuts with a soft click while Mark’s still bent down in front of him, promptly groaning when the wood catches on his shirt. You’re shuffling around, running to the freezer for an ice pack to help your boyfriend. The ice is cold in your hands, the material numbing your fingers as you press it down onto his injury.

“Are you okay?”

“How are you?”

You break out into a fit of giggles while Mark lets out a few chuckles, the both of you stilling for a moment before you tear of his cap and mask, revealing the face of your boyfriend. The bags around Mark’s eyes have worsened since the last you saw him, along with the obvious stress lines on his face and frizzy hair from too much hair dye as an added plus.

The dorm is still as silent as ever, this time the sounds of slurping noodles are added to the mix along with the sound of chattering news outlets on TV. Your eyes are wrapped around Mark’s neck as you sit in his lap, head laying in the crook of his shoulder as he works one his hands around your waist while the other sets down the cup of noodles on the desk beside him.

“How are you doing?” He mumbles, lips finding their way to your forehead to leave a peck in place. “About the dating thing.”

“I’m fine.” Your eyelids are starting to droop, the warmth Mark emits adding to the stressful situation makes you want to fall asleep and forget all your worries, even just for a little while. You lean back, eyes flicking up to meet his when he nods as an answer. “How about you?”

“What do you mean?” Mark’s eyes are a soft brown with a tint of gold to them, holding specks of stolen sunlight in them, the kind that you’d miss just with one glance. They’re filled with a raw emotion, an unwavering gaze that sometimes you find hard to meet, along with the earth’s unfiltered beauty that is so fascinating yet intriguing to memorize. “With the comeback? Babe?”

“I mean- yes, the comeback.” You laugh at the confused look at his face, his expression looking similarly like that of a confused puppy and you’re reminding yourself to change his names in your contacts. “But like- more of the me dating Jaemin news.”

“Oh” He mumbles, “I don’t really have an opinion on that..”

You’re tilting your head the moment he finishes his sentence. You know, for a fact, Mark’s never been one to back track on his words and you’re sure the way he spoke sounded more of like a question than it did a statement. “That’s good. I guess..”

“Are you staying the night?”

Mark’s head shoots up from its resting point in the crook of your neck, and he’s staring at you with a look of wonder in his eyes that had you ducking from his gaze, mouth stretching into a shy smile as you see a smile spread on his.

“You just had a dating scandal spread about you and your best friend,” He laughs, “But you still want me to stay over? I really am glad I’m dating you.”

Mark’s hands are pinching at your cheeks, his hands stretching the supple flesh while he scrunches his nose. Your own are entangled behind his neck, tugging the hairs on the nape of his neck with a scrunch of your own nose. It was moments like these that made you fall in love with Mark, the dorky boy that had his nose pressed up against glass, watching a thunderstorm and laughing. As an idol yourself, you found Mark most beautiful not when he had full on make up, but when he didn’t. You fell in love with him when he was lying on the carpet, hair a mess, laughing about something he saw on the internet. When he wasn’t trying to impress anyone, and had taken down all the walls he built for most people.

Six months in and all you knew was that Mark’s your muse, the one you write songs about, and the one who holds your heart.

Mark opens his eyes to the sound of your phone humming lowly and you asleep with his arms around you. He’s reaching his arm for the phone slowly in hopes he doesn’t wake you up from his movements.

You have 3 new messages.

[3:07] “Lover” Boy Nana sent a message.

mark hyung went over to yours a few hours ago and he hasn’t come back yet

[3:07] “Lover” Boy Nana sent a message. 

is he over with you?

[3:08] “Lover” Boy Nana sent a message.

lovie, answer your phone please :(

A scoff comes out from Mark’s mouth the moment his eyes land on the nickname Jaemin specifically has for you. Even before the dating news broke out, Mark’s always been a bit jealous of you and Jaemin’s bond, the people around him always thinking Jaemin’s the one who stole your heart. Jaemin, the one who’s been by your side and who knows you the best, Na Jaemin and not Mark Lee.

You have 5 new messages.

[3:09] You have one (1) missed call from “Lover” Boy Nana.

[3:10] “Lover” Boy Nana sent a voice mail.

[3:11] You sent a message to “Lover” Boy Nana.

Stop messaging MY girlfriend at 3 AM, Na.

Tapping sounds fill the air as Mark turns off your phone before placing it somewhere behind him, he’s looking down at you to make sure he hasn’t woken you up and he’s smiling at the sight of you sleeping on his chest. Mark’s putting his hands under your feet, lifting you up bridal style to place you on your bed. He’s tucking you in when your hands grab at the front of his shirt.

“Don’t leave,” You mumble, “Stay, please.”

“You know I can’t.” Mark’s bending down to press a kiss onto your forehead, cheeks warming when he sees you unconsciously smile in your sleep. Even when he wishes he could spend the night snuggled up with you, he doesn’t want you to get into more trouble than you already have. “I’ll text you tomorrow. Sweet dreams.”

The room is engulfed in darkness the moment Mark’s fingers touch the lamp, his footsteps echoing just a bit before disappearing completely once the door clicks shut. He’s crouching down to throw out his used ramen bowl into the trash can in the kitchen, hands multitasking as he also picks up his hat and mask from the desk.

Mark’s looking back to the direction of your bedroom while he puts his mask on, fixing the hat onto his head. The image of your slightly messy bedhead and cute pout appears in his head and he’s shaking his head, lips parting to let out a chuckle. “One day, they’ll know about us.”

The sun’s rays wake you up from your sleep, groaning at the light that hits your eyes. Your joints and muscles protest when you sit up in bed, wanting nothing but to go back to sleep. Your legs hit the floor, slightly trembling when you feel the cold wood in contrast to your warm temperature, and you’re walking out of your room in search of your boyfriend and your phone.

The dinging from the kitchen catches your attention and you make a beeline for it, doing a slight victory dance when you find your phone on the kitchen counter right next to some chocolate you’re sure you didn’t have yesterday.

You have new messages.

[3:11] You sent a message to “Lover” Boy Nana.

Stop messaging MY girlfriend at 3 AM, Na.

[3:12] “Lover” Boy Nana sent a message. 

omo omo hyung no need to be so grumpy

[3:12] “Lover” Boy Nana sent a message. 

im just “dating” her not  d a t i n g  her

[3:13] “Lover” Boy Nana sent a message. 

come back to the dorms before manager realizes you’re gone

[3:14] You sent a message to “Lover” Boy Nana. 

yeah yeah omw

[3:39] Lee MinMark sent a message. 

I’m sorry I didn’t stay over! Don’t want you getting in more trouble

[3:40] Lee MinMark sent a message. 

Good night, and I love you.

[7:45] Boss Manager sent a message. 

Meeting at 10. Don’t be late.

The smile that spreads on your face is automatic and the giddiness feels like a wake up call from your previously still drowsy self. Your fingers work nimbly, tapping out words to text Mark before a text arrives just before you sent it.

You have new messages.

[8:13] Lee MinMark sent a message. 

“I fought my eyes

to stay awake.

No dream

was prettier

than the way she slept.”

[8:13] You changed Lee MinMark’s name to Lion Cub.

[8:13] You sent a message to Lion Cub.

I knew you were jealous!

[8:14] Lion Cub sent a message.

Good morning to you too. Sleep well?

[8:14] You sent a message to Lion Cub.

I did! Would’ve been better with you next to me tho :(

[8:14] You sent a message to Lion Cub.

Also that poem is just ugh :(

[8:23] You sent a message to Lion Cub.

Mark? Where did you go?

[8:25]  Pwark Ji-Ji sent a message.

mark hyung banned me from texting you for a week :(

[8:25]  Pwark Ji-Ji sent a message. 

why is he like this :(

[8:25]  Pwark Ji-Ji sent a message. 

so mean :(

[8:26]  Pwark Ji-Ji sent a message.

this is nana btw! hyung’s taking a shower rn and jisung let me borrow his phone eheh

[8:26]  Pwark Ji-Ji sent a message.

no, actually i lied. i stole it from him

[8:26]  Pwark Ji-Ji sent a message.

have a good day, lovie!! ill see you later at that meeting (mark hyung doesnt know btw eheheh)

[8:26] You sent a message to Pwark Ji-Ji.

You’re horrible, Na! Give sungiie his phone back :(

[8:26] You sent a message to Pwark Ji-Ji. 

See you later!! (Also, hi sungiie!!)

[hello-yue-here]

are u a fucking idiot lol do you think queer like used to be a slur and..isnt now? bc everybody reclaimed it or something? if i see you and your friends and go look at that band of queers am i being inclusive❤️

hey anon does it ever get boring being so obsessed with me?? like im sure it doesnt because im so interesting and fun and sexy and queer and popular and amazing and hot and all. like period thank you for sending me anons calling me dumb so you get attention. im happy to give you the attention you so desperately crave but you dont need to hide behind anon and get pissy w me about the word queer and the fact that i literally identify as queer. like you can just ask for attention next time babe.

BUT WHILE WERE HERE

did u even read the full post i reblogged ab this

like did u

because all the questions ur asking me can be answered w that post. the history behind the word queer is there. the letter q in lgbtq+ stands for queer. the fact that terfs use the “queer is a slur” claim as a way to divide the QUEER community. ppl who use queer as a label arent the enemy booboo. the people who divide us are. so quit calling me an idiot and leaving anons on my blog and actually think about what the real issue is here. because it sure as hell aint one lil avatar fanblog who identifies as queer. there are bigger fish to fry and bigger issues in the queer community than the meaning behind the word queer.

for example:

https://harvardcrcl.org/americas-war-on-black-trans-women/

black trans women are being murdered at very disproportionately high rates. but lets talk about how the word queer is such an issue.

https://www.vice.com/en/article/akgxm5/bbc-expected-to-quit-stonewalls-lgbtq-diversity-programme

the BBC is expected to end their involvement with an organization that upholds lgbtq+ rights for workers which is very appalling. but go ahead tell me why im the bad guy for thinking that queer isnt a slur. clearly thats the biggest issue here.

https://www.google.com/amp/s/amp.cnn.com/cnn/2021/09/17/middleeast/afghanistan-lgbtq-evacuation-intl-hnk-dst/index.html

just look at the headline.

this is just the tip of the iceberg anon. “queer is a slur” is terf rhetoric to divide us and keep us from uniting to fight the real obstacles facing the community. arguing over the word queer is pointless and helps no one.

‼️if anyone has any links to donation pages, paypals, cashapps, etc. to help out queer people who are struggling, please feel free to add them to this post or send them to me so we can signal boost them that would be wonderful.‼️

[janiedean]

Wait they fucked the SPN ending for Walker? How? And now the show is more conservative than the original, which was headlined by known conservative dumbass Chuck Norris? Ugh

tldr (I can attest in the sense that I did watch the very last episode and with everything I've seen until now...... it holds up)

basically from what it seems like they pushed so that the finale ep was sam focused so it would make ppl idk stick with jared and they didn't give dean time to shine or a basic excuse of a storyline at all before the dumbest death he could have had and jensen's obviously pissed

like... can imagine why he would be

also like nothing happened in that ep is2g I watched it live while it was happening and it was all..... filler? like I swear even the fillerest filler episode for any show I've watched had more stuff happening in it than the spn series finale which... was... bad

and like I remember walker promos airing every ten seconds when the ep was airing sssoooo

anyway apparently the cw got heavy on walker promoting and shit and got both jensen & misha shafted which like... I mean misha was def in vancouver for the finale but he wasn't in the ep and jensen spends 15 years playing dean for that?

and like now idk if the background rumors re jared not opposing any of that and basically screwing them over because it was convenient for his new show are true or not but if he is like... ofc jensen is pissed off

anyway like as stated I'm catching up on the whole thing now and with that in mind the finale looked like 'okay we wanted to do a thing but you execs told us that we couldn't and we had to do this this and that so we're going to do it in a way that sucks ass on purpose but that delivers what you wanted' even moreso than it did in the beginning like... it's not bad in the way any other bad finale I watched is bc AT LEAST SOMETHING HAPPENED IN THE OTHERS LITERALLY NOTHING HAPPENED IN THIS ONE I'm still trying to wrap my head around it tbh

NOW with this in mind I'mma gonna say what I told @emilysnora when the first walker casting stuff came out but basically

the remake has jared being walker blah blah and honestly I'm not even pronouncing myself on the whole 'I got the idea when reading the interview with the ICE policeman who felt conflicted abt putting kids in cages' because it's not my place to but honestly as your resident white european person it's... really... I mean the nicest I can say it's that it's a very privileged way of looking at it and he probably didn't mean it to be a racist thing buuuuuttt thaaat kind of iiiiisssss so there's that and on top of that we have that it's him plus: - hispanic partner in the force - gay brother who's like AN ATTORNEY FOR THE STATE so like... right wing gay dude? okay - his wife was dead before the entire shebang began so hello fridging before the plot even starts - I gave a quick look at the main cast and like there's one biracial dude plus lindsey morgan and they're the only two nonwhite ppl in the entire main cast (idk about the recurring but I'm talking about the MAINS) add to that the... background premise it's really not as progressive as it looks like honestly

now not to be like your resident person who's like BUT THE REP but like if y'all gonna do a show in 2021 about ppl in texas doing that job having to deal with keeping children in cages or latin american immigrants having all white ppl in the main cast except two of them is like.... kind of... not exactly what I'd do in this time and age

now with the premise that as stated I hate chuck norris's politics and I don't thing great of him as a person or anything else so like pls don't take this as chuck norris endorsement or anything

my grandfather used to be obsessed with it same as like apparently 90% of italian grandfathers bc everyone I know had at least one who loved that show so like I've seen my fair share of it back in the day and to my best recollection - basically no one was presuming it was like.... there to make a political statement it was basically chuck norris roundhouse kicking bad dudes coming from whichever background and saving the day the end but - walker himself had native american ancestry bc he was raised after his parents' death by his uncle who was played by floyd westerman who was like a prominent NA actor so like technically you had the lead who had NA ancestry himself plus there was like actual NA actors having a relevant role which like... bros not to be that asshole but last time I saw that in pseudo mainstream tv in the last ten years it was on a netflix show that lasted one season so make of that what you will, also there were at least two other NA supportive chars from the reservation they all came from like one was the sheriff and the other was a spiritual leader or smth but anyway it had three NA chars played by NA actors - walker's police partner/bff was black - he had the ongoing willtheywon'tthey romance with the district attorney or smth but she didn't get fridged actually she lasted the entire show but anyway like... there was no 'ah he had a wife who DIED BEFORE THE SHOW EVEN STARTED' plotline - in the last two seasons they had rookie rangers showing up and like I went to check on wikipedia to be sure but the girl is half filipina which again not a category that gets exactly much rep on american tv - there was a recurring dude who helped them out in cases but was from another police branch who was def latino (don't remember the background sorry but he def was) also like walker was a vietnam vet which imvho would be an improvement over 'I was undercover for eleven months and my wife died :((((' when it comes to give your main like.... a srs background but anyway the point was that new walker in between the mains has like two nonwhite ppl and if I look at the recurrings it looks like there's four ppl who are latin* but three of them are undocumented immigrants so like... bro there's some typecasting going on I see, old walker had NA/black/hispanic/filipino people in the main/supporting cast and none of them was like... typecast in the sense that they were all cops except two of the NA ones so it's not like they went out of their way to typecast and like obv og walker wasn't making the whole thing a political statement but looking at it...... it's still way more progressive than whatever the new one wants to be

yes even if chuck norris was headlining it

and I mean... again when you manage to reboot a show starring chuck norris of all ppl and you manage to make it less progressive than the og while thinking you're being progressive while rebooting it I mean as we say here ask yourself a few questions and give yourself a few answers, also like the entire point of og walker was crack where he kicks ppl and says doing drugs is bad, I honestly don't get why the fuck they had to reboot it instead of like having the guts to say we wanna do an original thing, bc like in order to say hey I wanna do a show about a conflicted cop on the texas border you really can just make it an original thing and own it not go like I'M REBOOTING WALKER TEXAS RANGER ROUNDHOUSE KICK CENTRAL EXTRAORDINAIRE but that's my two cents make of that what you will

[enderspawn]

♫ techno?

YES

Anti-Hero – Sekai No Owari

Glory and Gore – Lorde

more details down below the read more

okay listen I know a lot of techno cosplayers use the chorus of anti-hero but IT’S THE VERSES THAT MAKE IT A TECHNO SONG!!! So im gonna focus mainly on that

“You know I don't give a damn about what's "right" Or pleasing everyone around me Cause I know this world that brought us life Wasn't made to keep everyone happy”

Techno doesn’t care about what other ppl see as right, he cares about what he does as right. He KNOWS he’s not a hero, he’s fine being the villain bc in his eyes he’s doing the right thing in the end. Not everyone’s gonna be happy w what he does but fuck them, bc theres no ending where EVERYONE is happy.

“The rules and laws that countries come up with In front of me, they're all shit Cause there are people that I've gotta protect And if you get in my way, you're dead”

Okay ppl literally made up rules, laws, AND a country all in front of him and he think’s its shit like. Yep that’s the line! Also…. He would absolutely kill anyone and everyone for those he cares abt and protects. “for you the world, phil” and all that. Part of why I think he went thru w obliterating l’manberg was, as well as being a government and unfairly trying to execute him, they punished phil for his involvement w techno. Fuck that.

“You see I'm tired of trying to justify Every decision that I make If it's to save the people that I stand by You better believe what I say”

He genuinely believes government corrupts. By destroying it, he thinks that he is helping in the end but its hard to JUSTIFY, esp to the ppl he’s killing. He’s doing what he thinks he has to in order to save those he loves (which isn’t limited to phil tbh. Even when allied w tommy he wanted to destroy lmanberg to save HIM too.)

“ "Stay in the lines, don't make a scene" Heroes try to tell us what's right But when push comes to shove, you'll know what I mean I'm ready to start a fight”

He WILL break the law and you CAN NOT stop him fjdklsjfkl

“I'm gonna be the anti-hero Feared and hated by everybody I'm gonna be the anti-hero So I can save you when the time comes”

Again I said it before but it fits, he doesn’t think himself a hero sure but HE DOES WHAT HE DOES BC HE THINKS ITS RIGHT. HE ISNT AN ANARCHIST BC OF SPITE (even if his destruction might be lol) HE IS BC HE BELIEVES IT’S THE BEST POSSIBILITY.

“Righteousness is a thing that I hate Cause it doesn't do any good for anyone And everyone thinks everything is OK If they just obey”

In short: ur not any better for following the government’s laws bc it wont magically fix things! You’re not better for obeying! Anarchy baby!!

“I don't want to think about what they see When they look up and see evil me You see, love isn't what I need As long as I can set you free”

Okay not to be in mourning of the tommy techno dynamic but. He doesn’t care if everyone he loves hates him as long as they’re safe and free from tyranny. He doesn’t CARE (at least he says) if tommy hates him if its for his own good. Techno is very much a ends justify the means kind of guy, why not apply it to his own relationships w others.

WOO NEXT SONG

Glory and Gore could fit w a lot of characters (particularly I see it as a dream and techno song) bc its about fighting finding fame from it

“But in all chaos, there is calculation”

My man thrives in chaos and rebellion, but he puts weeks of effort into it!! He carefully calculates his battles in order to cause his chaos!!

“You've been drinking like the world was gonna end (It didn't) Took a shiner from the fist of your best friend (Go figure)”

Okay so this isn’t rlly abt him, and more general pogtopia (Wilbur w the first line, the world ending being destroying lmanberg) but the second line is abt tommy and techno’s fight in the pit prove me wrong JFKDLJF

“Glory and gore go hand in hand That's why we're making headlines You could try and take us But victory's contagious”

Techno was brought into the pogtopia conflict BECAUSE he’s famous for being a great warrior. He literally makes headlines with his gore. Also, has he ever LOST a single battle/war he’s been in? even when taken prisoner and EXECUTED he managed to escape victorious and alive. His victory IS damn contagious, technoblade never dies baby, we win theseeee

“Delicate in every way but one (The swordplay) God knows we like archaic kinds of fun (The old ways) Chance is the only game I play with, baby We let our battles choose us”

Techno is brutal in his combat and swordplay and, if we consider stuff like mcm and mcc canon, often does so for fun. Despite that tho he still doesn’t really START wars. He was recruited into pogtopia. He went into retirement after new lmanberg was made and only came out after HE was attacked. His battles CHOOSE HIM.

“Tired little laughs, gold-lie promises We'll always win at this, I don't ever think about death It's all right if you do, it's fine”

Hrhrhrnngng tommy techno time. They both made promises to each other to help the other and both ended up going back on their word. Also, you can interpret “I don’t ever think about death, it’s alright if you do” to be about how tommy’s at one life while techno’s at 3, OR abt tommy’s suicidal ideation during exile and aaaaaaAHHHHH

“We gladiate, but I guess we're really fighting ourselves Roughin' up our minds so we're ready when the killtime comes Wide awake in bed, words in my brain "Secretly you love this, do you even wanna go free?" Let me in the ring, I'll show you what that big word means”

HHHOUGH BABY THIS IS THE MONEY LINE!! Techno ENJOYS fighting in the end, and with the voices of chat they demand blood from him. He says he wants to change, to retire and be peaceful, but in the end “secrety you love this, do you even wanna go free?”!!!! hes in conflict with HIMSELF over his war activities and fighting urges. War sucks in the end and you lose people, but its what he’s built his identity over. He IS the blood god, the blade. What is he ALLOWED to be beyond violence? IDK IM JUST HAVING TECHNO THOUGHTS NOW BUT LIKE!!! YO!!! Even you could read into it that when he thinks that his first impact is to “let him in the ring”, violence is the only universal language for him to the point he doesn’t KNOW anything else.

ANYWAY THANKS FOR COMING TO MY TEDTALK I LOVE TECHNOBLADE jfdksjfl

[sanctuaryforalluniverses]

Hi! I want to start with saying I've been following you for a long time and appreciate this blog! I really hope I'm not coming off as rude by sending this. I noticed a recent post about a NYT article on the source of COVID19, and I'm naturally p skeptical of tumblr posts with just a headline bc of this websites... history. There are a lot of people whose goals are more to turn people against media, especially media associated with the left like NYT, so I thought you might appreciate a fuller look at the article (bc. i have a subscription which not everyone can access lol).

The first few paragraphs explain the headline, but I think it's important to note that it represents both "sides" of the issue, saying it is unlikely that the virus was intentionally created, but experts are looking for more thorough investigations.

Some other relevant information brought up: - Explains Dr. Shi's credentials, as well as cites other scientists praising her work, and cites from her statements multiple times (ex below)

- Explains the WHO's previous investigation and wish for more transparency, as well as other inquires into the lab. (the post stated, or at least heavily implied, that the article was the NYT trying to fit the recent statements from the Wuhan Institute into a sensationalist theory, whereas this article was reporting on the medical community's recent interests into investigation, as referenced below)

All in all I think that post was someone reading a headline without reading the article critically. In many ways it is reporting on people's mistrust and the opposing evidence, not trying to fuel it.

Again, I really hope this isn't obnoxious and if it is, feel free to delete it! I just thought it was relevant to other stuff you've shared, and you might have insight on it.

First, I'm so sorry I'm just now addressing this - I think Tumblr has decided to stop bothering to notify me when I get asks, and because I have ADHD and the memory of a cheese grater I never remember to check.

On the post, though... you do make excellent points, but the truth is that the original poster had a point as well. I spent more than a decade as a journalist (though not for the New York Times, true), and the original headline contained none of the nuance included in the article. I don't necessarily blame the writer - editors often do the headlines, and accurately portraying the story is seen as being far less important than dramatic, attention-grabbing headlines - but on a topic like this the headline is the strongest impression the story is going to give off.

Especially on the platform like the New York Times, which has a ludicrously vigorous paywall. I tried four or five times to screenshot headlines for literally any of the multiple stories (and opinion columns, which conveniently have no need for fact checking), but because I had apparently breathed wrong at some point earlier this month I couldn't even get to the screen that let me see the headline. When you bury the content that thoroughly, your headlines are even more important.

Especially because the New York Times absolutely wouldn't shut up about this for a solid couple of weeks. Now, one of the big secrets of the news industry (though I suppose it's not much of a secret) is that we get bored FAST and have NO SHAME. From what I can gather, there's no real story here - scientists have said "COVID probably DIDN'T come from a Chinese lab, but we don't know that for sure so hey let's spend whatever money we're not pouring into the military on this." That's, at best, one article, but

And I didn't even need to go past page 1. Now, once again I'm not allowed to actually read any of the articles, but a quick look at the headlines and opening lines suggest they're just the same information regurgitated in different formats. I'm sure it gets clicks, but that's not good journalism (also, they're resorting to rumor - the only reason to put "is said" in a headline is if you can't actually back it up and there's a chance you'll get sued).

Especially when you look at the one non-opinion article that popped up in the last month (which is suspicious itself, for the record - if they'd had a scrap of new information, they'd have written 6-8 more articles around it):

This is where it gets really interesting. According to usual headline rules, "Still No Direct Evidence To Support Lab Leak Theory" would be the most obvious headline to use here (or, let's be honest, in literally any of the above articles). And yes, this is an interview, but a Wuhan scientist is not a well-known enough figure in the U.S. to carry the weight of the headline (which is proven by the fact that they had to emphasize she was a virologist in Wuhan). Also, even though extra words are usually death in a headline, they specify that this person isn't just a virologist, they're a Chinese virologist (and therefore their opinion that there was no lab leak is of course naturally suspect). After the punchy, inflammatory list of headlines from above, the fact that this is the first boring one (and still manages to be mildly inflammatory) is suspicious as hell.

So, in short, you were right about that individual article and I in no way blame that poor writer. But the New York Times should be fucking ashamed of themselves.

[mermadrid96]

At 23 I had every reason to feel invincible. I walked out of post secondary already two years in my career field and paid off my debt. I had to keep moving. Get the apartment alone and continue on what I wanted to be my long journey of being someone worth remembering.

I don’t have any extreme addiction issues. Other than pot..that doesn’t count right? It probably does.

I just hold a deep sadness and obsession with suicidal ideation. The first time I tried to kill myself I was nine. I remember resisting the urge to jump in front of the subway long before that, probably 3 or 4 standing with my grandma going to church.

Like most, mental illness runs on both sides of my family. It’s true that you feel a sense of ease about letting yourself be ill when it’s already hereditary.

Distraction is the best way to manage most of my issues. Friends, movies, family. Working. I try to exercise and I’m sure doing that would help a lot more, but my main passion is sleep. Sleep is the closest to death us cowards of suicide can get. I dream a lot more now that I’ve been able to shake the constant weed smoking. I barely remember them and their usually shitty modifications of what’s happening in my world. But I’d take it over exhausted rest anyway.

When I got to Kingston in sept 2019 I was already sceptical. But it was easy to distract that away, new school new job new city to explore and a way to reinvent the version of myself I spent 23 years hating. Obviously, for someone so naturally fucking lazy and obsessed with the idea of being a tragedy headline, it didn’t work out. I went out and met people as usually encouraged by my friends back home. I got a job because I could not come off a lazy (I lasted one whole training shift before my sister let take the cop out I was giving myself) and I did my homework.

I’m not sure why I was so insistent on proving I could do this, when I already knew I couldn’t. Somehow, between touring the school and moving in six months later, I told myself every step of the way it was too late to look back. You’d be letting everyone down when you’ve finally earned a decent family title back.

It’s funny that sitting here at 25, almost finished with the youth therapy I transitioned to, I feel the same type of way.

I’ve gotten every therapist I’ve met with to beam with pride during sessions, something that is obviously more than necessary for me, I’ve been given the “stable label” by each psychiatrist, graduated each group therapy, and regained the family perspective of “she’s doing great now, actually.”

Falling back into needing more help than I did before isn’t an option. Letting small things like a credit card compromise, the death of a family pet or being in the middle of a domestic wasn’t an excuse to let your mental state become as fragile as it was.

The skills are on the papers, the binder is Color coded and you have the self help numbers now. You’re cured and everyone can get onboard with that. No one wants to get onboard with the heartache of watching a family member be shitty again. Or A friend that barely answers and is more selfish than the completely selfless person they chose to stay friends with through a hard time.

I do find a lot of what I’ve done will save me. But mostly, I know killing myself would save me. So where has any of this gotten me? Just in more debt than I ever was at the beginning, and three years behind my timeline, might as well just give in and let myself come to peace.

I’ve read more stories about established people who have gone through the same thoughts-with much worse circumstances- and their endings, while positive, aren’t what I see as happy. I mean- they didn’t kill themselves? And their not on an island alone with zero responsibilities or people to disappoint- so who cares? None these articles have left me satisfied. Just with a sense of reality; life isn’t great. And if you can’t handle your own shit well; you’ll probably have to go through it sober too.

A lot of my false worlds pictures me back in high school- being able to reinvent everything- getting more into the arts and then a college program that would actually make me money and was nothing close to the Hunan services sector; where all bleeding hearts come to die poor and with back problems. Enjoying things truly instead of not realizing 16 would of been the best opportunity I had to off myself. Immortalized before even living- a lazy cowards dream.

I keep hearing how much of my life o have left to figure things out, bc you know, 20s. But that’ll end in 5 years and then I’ll be asking what I’ve done to get where I want. Well I’ve napped and ignored a budget. Contemplated a lot and taken chances I didn’t want and missed ones that might of worked. Basically, always considering what if to the point where it’s wasted.

I feel full when I’m with my family, when I’m able to laugh with friends and when I’m able to think through these harder days. And, as any caring professional would say- when I’m enjoying my job. There is some truth to this being a profession and a passion. I’m proud of what I’ve done, but I can tell you I’d be just as proud of taking more vacations and a new front car bumper.

I also feel full when I can just cry uninterrupted, when I’ve accepted my plans for suicide and can let go of all conscious responsibility, when I’ve hurt myself, and whenever I don’t need to set an alarm to wake up.

[ditch-witches]

Insufferable (iv) - George MacKay x reader

(PART 1) (PART 2) (PART 3)

requested: yes/no (this is it. i'm done finally. thank you for your time.)

God bless @/okay.l0z

"Hi! I've been reading your fics and I love them so much bc there's hardly any around. I was wondering if you take insta requests and if so can you do one with George and the reader are like enemies to loves and they have really cute moments but then end up fighting all the time and then it escalates and they end up having sEx and then get together or something bc I will THRIVE IF YOU DO!" ... "Is it bad if I want it long ass?"

pairing: George MacKay x reader

warnings: an annoying ass insecurity moment, mentions of matcha

word count: 1,412

a/n: We wrote this during a sorority's pledge night and thought we were in the middle of a cult initiation ---- Basically the same thing but they didn't offer us any of the blood of previous sisters. #bummed

You laid awake most of the night, staring at the ceiling, deep in thought. What had you done. There was a clock hanging on George's wall near his bed, the ticking seeming to grow louder and louder as you noticed it. Where did the lipstick come from earlier. His duvet was blue, not uncharacteristic for him, but you were pleasantly surprised at how soft his sheets were and that he slept on the side you usually avoided. Did you even love him.

Did you even love him?

What if you had been so wrapped up in passion and rage that it just felt like you did? As your high began to wear off, you wondered why you were even there. George deserved better than someone who wasn't sure. How could he have been in love with you for so long yet he chose now to make it evident? Why couldn't he have told you years prior, when you weren't finally getting somewhere with your career? The horrific aspect of it all was the fact that as soon as the sun came up the next day, the next day of your real lives away from the theatre, George would have the possibility of deciding that he didn't actually love you. Then where would you be? Back in bed with Mark, living out your dreary day-by-day as if nothing had ever happened? As you laid there, thinking about all the possibilities of what could happen, there was still one major thing on your mind: Where did the lipstick come from?

As the sunlight began to peek through the blinds, your heart sank. You felt sick and worried, knowing that at any moment, he could wake up. What would you tell him? 'I don't know what's going on. You deserve someone who does. You deserve someone who wears that shade of lipstick.' Surely not. You turned your head to look at George, his hair sprawled out over his dark pillowcase as he slept peacefully, the covers wrapping around his bare torso. The stripes from the blinds barred across his back, the latter pattern changing every so often as the sun moved behind a cloud or higher into the sky. His face was calm and without the intensity, it holds when he's awake, mainly a difference between when he's deep in thought. He looked younger and almost zen. You itched to know what he was dreaming.

You bit your lip slightly and without thought, picked yourself up out of bed to silently sweep your clothes up from around the room. Guilt weighed on your heart as you took one last look at the boy before you left his apartment. You needed to run, to keep running until your lungs burned and your legs could barely hold you up, something else to give you feeling rather than having to sort your feelings out. So you did, in your new dress and bare feet; you ran.

In the next few weeks, you attempted to gather your thoughts and sort your life out. How could you invite George in when you didn't even have a spot for him? You started off by addressing the fact that you had gotten kicked out of your own show for punching an understudy. You had texted the director earlier begging him to meet up so you could explain the situation in the hopes of smoothing over whatever feathers you had inadvertently ruffled. Thankfully he had agreed.

"Yeah, don't worry about it. I wasn't firing you. I literally just wanted you to calm down."

You thought about his sentence said over a steaming cup of a matcha flavored drink, his rowdy hair blowing frantically around his head as your eye twitched slightly. Your head filled with new script plots and coursework to mix with the overwhelmed unease you experienced whenever George flashed into your mind.

His face, his hands, his voice. Every sacred touch from the man seemed to be tattooed on you, but the thought of him only came to you at night when you were alone with your never-ending stream of consciousness. You thought mainly about what it was like to finally rest in his arms. It had been too long since you hadn't talked to him. Had he forgotten about you? Had he moved on to whomever the lipstick belonged to? You started staying in most nights, catching up on work to keep you busy.

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

Why had he said that? Why hadn't you said it back?

It was in November when you got an email from your local movie theater about a "throwback" night. Headlining was none other than Judge Dredd. You chuckled to yourself slightly, looking at the paperwork surrounding you and---for once---thought fuck it. You deserved a night off. Grabbing your jacket and heading out, you noticed it beginning to snow. You pulled your jacket tighter around you to combat the cold air, your mind briefly drifting to the night when you were stuffed into George's car, bundled up in his hoodie. You were within walking distance to the theater, and after getting your ticket, your seat was even easier to find. Judge Dredd hadn't made it big in the '90s---shocker---so you were honestly surprised that more than four people had shown up to the screening. Sinking into your chair, you felt small. The movie flashed onto the screen and you chuckled to yourself at the opening song, thinking of the last time you had seen the film with your brother.

And George.

The seat next to you creaked as someone settled in beside you. You didn't think to look up, only the thought of why they would have picked that seat when the whole theater was basically free crossed your mind. A familiar scent invaded your senses, your brows furrowing as you turned your head, catching the gaze of George. The two of you shared a look, your heartbeat quickening as the blues in his eyes seemed to deepen. He didn't look sad, his expression still dressed like the day on the street. You wanted to cry, finding it hard not to tell him everything at once. Instead, you turned back to the screen, breathing shallowly. A few moments passed of Sylvester Stalone's voice filling the theater until your hand fell beside your leg, wanting to be closer to George. You didn't look at him again, biting back the emotion threatening to spill over. His pinky reached out for you and you moved to grab his hand in yours, intertwining your fingers with his. He let out a sigh of relief and you took the opportunity to lean towards him, resting your head on his shoulder, the softness of his sweater feeling like home to you. You exhaled a breath you didn't know you were holding in, finally feeling at peace.

"I love you," you whispered.

EPILOGUE.

You slipped your dress on, struggling to get the zipper up, feeling like you had lost your independence. You had been spoiled with a man that would zip you up without being asked. You groaned slightly, tugging your shoes on instead and calling out. George peeked around the doorframe, his eyebrows raised slightly as he tugged at his cuffs. "Do you mind?" You asked, holding up your hair and turning your back to him. You heard him chuckle, walking over to you and zipping your dress up, placing a kiss to the back of your neck. "I feel like a damn beached whale."

George let out an almost snickering response. "I love whales."

"You're not helping." You turned to him, rolling your eyes slightly. His features seemed to soften as he looked you over. He still looked at you like you were standing beside the altar next to him.

You stretched your back. He shrugged. "We could skip?"

"No, last time you said that I got pregnant." You fought not to smile at your own complaint. "I'm done being pregnant. Maybe if you win tonight, it'll be over."

George rolled his eyes, bending slightly to mockingly rest his cheek against your stomach. "Take your time, little one. Mummy's just being an ass."

You pushed him away from you. "Stop corrupting her! I'm supposed to be the favorite parent!"

He crossed his arms, a smirk playing at his lips. "Oh, I beg to differ."

You pushed past him, grabbing your bag as you left the room. "You're insufferable. You know that?"

"Bite me."

[druddigoon]

so i’m supposed to be working on scholarship applications but instead of writing 500 words on why i should receive money (bc i’m poor) i typed out 1.4k words of bederia smh

anyways cheeky au where bede feels feelings

--------------------------

> Nervousness, worry; something heavy building up in the heart, weighed down like a lagging tail; the bearer of bad news. Guilt. 

Bede lifts his arm up the second Gloria makes a move to get up from the couch. 

“Leaving?” he says. 

“Yeah.” It’s little more than an act nowadays, less for his benefit than Gloria’s. “It’s going to take at least a week to travel to and back from the dynamax sightings they want me to investigate, and I’d rather arrive back in time to catch the tail end of that fair you’re helping set up.” 

She’s wading her way around the coffee table when he grabs her hand. 

> Guilt, stronger now. Concern, rolling off in waves; can’t take deep breaths when the water line’s over your head. Resolve, don’t look back. No fear. 

No fear? Fear and concern usually go hand in hand. If she’s worried about running into a dangerous situation, why isn’t she scared about it? 

It takes him a while to realize she’s worried over him. 

“I’m not mad at you,” he blurts out, “This is your job, you’re the only one qualified enough to handle dens over five stars, and you’re doing it so Galar can be safe. I’d be an idiot to get mad at that.” 

“I know, I just wish it doesn’t have to be--” Gloria cuts herself off in the middle of her sentence. 

Doesn’t have to be like this. There were a lot of things that didn't have to be: Bede’s disqualification, the Eternatus incident, Gloria’s stepping down a year into her championship. Wistful ideations did not rewrite the stars. Both knew it very well. 

> Melancholy. Guilt loses its edge, dips down into resignation. 

She’s staring at the cluster of mushrooms starting to grow from the ceiling, glowing gentle hues of pink, blue, and green. For the umpteenth time, Bede wishes he could read thoughts instead of emotions. Doesn’t have to be like this. 

He sighs, lets go of her hand. “Come on. I’ll come to see you off at Hammerlocke.” 

--------------------------

Rule Number One: Never talk about your ability. 

Rule Number Two: Avoid touching anyone unless absolutely necessary.

Those were the two fundamental laws Bede set for himself during his time in the orphanage. Stories too grotesque to be put into words, stark terror and raw emotion. They blurred together to the point where he stopped caring--stopped reaching out, beat or intimidated anyone who tried to him. He withdrew. 

Compassion fatigue, he’d heard the social workers discuss, after his main caretaker quit. Emotional exhaustion leading to a decreased ability to feel empathy for others. The cost of care. He often wondered if he had that too, how others’ emotions were often so strong it had washed away his own, the dull ringing in his ears after he lost contact. Or maybe he’d always been like this. 

The first rule was broken when he accused his foster father of cheating, when he gave him a slap on the back after coming home from “work”. A day later he was picked up by Oleana, and told he’d shake hands with Macro Cosmos’s pawns during meetings. 

The second rule spiralled downwards when he accidentally bumped into a challenger, back in Galar Mine No 1. 

It’s such a hassle. So much easier to hate someone when he doesn’t know them. Rose is a man brimming with hope for the future, too bright to hold in a handshake for long. Oleana, once her obsessiveness and exhaustion and contempt for Bede has been whittled away from the manicured fingernails digging into his shoulder, is a woman who adores her saviour ever since the day he took her off the streets. He remembers the pity officers doled against his skin when they had to restrain him to be brought back to the orphanage, the desperation of a slipping boy when Hop’s knuckles bit into his lip. 

So much easier to hate when they weren’t all so human. 

--------------------------

In Ballonlea, where the sun fails to filter through the thick canopy of trees, time loses its grip. There is no such thing as a day and night cycle when all light comes from bioluminescent mushrooms, shining here before you were born and after you leave. 

Hammerlocke, in contrast, seems to be bathed in the light of the sun. Dying rays outline castle walls against a wash of red and gold, and shadows stretch over corners, gothic. The air is warm; he’d read somewhere that the obsidian masonry was designed to absorb heat during the day and release it at night, which saves them from temperature fluctuations as a mainland city near the wild area. Save for a few stragglers, the streets are empty. 

Bede is the first to arrive at the pokemon centre, teleported by his hatterene. 

Gloria wouldn’t arrive in a few minutes--she always liked taking the corvitaxi, watching the region pass by beneath her. Bede would accompany her if he didn’t have motion sickness. The last time they rode together had been...messy. 

He’s flipping through a curry catalogue in the lobby when she bursts in, windblown hair and old leather bag and all. 

“Sorry, I had to take a detour to get my stuff. Completely forgot about that, or I’d have brought them to your house.”  Golisopod lumbers in after, bags comically hanging on its upturned scutes. “Hope you didn’t wait long?” 

Bede checks his rotom-phone. Half an hour, but she doesn’t need to know that. “Yes, a whole fucking two minutes. I thought you were fine spending a month in the woods wearing the same clothes, eating berries and roots like a neanderthal.” 

“Oh, I hope Sylveon pukes on your pillow tonight.” The jab didn’t have much force to it, and he doesn’t need to touch her to see her stress; they’ve been around each other long enough for him to notice the incessant tic of her right foot, how she keeps running one hand over another as a soothing gesture, in the absence of his. 

(It’s endearing. He usually looks down at people who fail to disguise their fears, sees them as weak of will, but this is Gloria. She’s the girl who’d faced and captured gods, the girl known to take on the most unstable regions of the wild area and come out alive; she’s also the girl who released them after making sure they wouldn’t cause harm, the girl fretting not because she might be risking her life, but because Bede will miss her. It’s cute.) 

He sees her off at the Hammerlocke gates. Gloria has her back to him, checking maps, while her golisopod is already making its way down the stairs. The gap between them seems to be growing wider, and he wants nothing more than to reach for her shoulder. 

That would be crossing a boundary. They’d talked extensively about his ability, and she’d said yes, it’s okay to touch her, she had nothing to hide from him. But just because he has her consent doesn’t mean he’s privy to her feelings at the moment. 

Gloria closes her map, taking one step down the stairs.

Another step. Stops. 

She looks back. 

Whatever she sees on Bede’s face makes her turn around and run towards him. He doesn’t get a single word in before she throws her arms around him, almost barreling him over. 

> Courage, the strength to keep walking even though each step is a battle; confidence, the rain that washes away all doubt; hope, the fiercest of them all, a steady mantra of We’ll be okay.

He grips her tight, wishes for once he could speak his emotions like she’s speaking hers. Settles for balling all his conviction into a whisper. “You’re going to do phenomenal, you’re going to pummel whatever that dynamax pokemon is without breaking a sweat, and I’ll wake up a week from now with a million messages of how you kicked their ass. Don’t worry about me.” 

He can feel her smile from the shift of her cheek. “And I’m going to come back to Ballonlea’s first town fair sensationalised on the headlines of every media site, and finally get to ride on a ferris wheel that isn’t always ‘out of order’ like Wyndon’s is, because you did a great job bossing people and pokemon around. Don’t worry about me.” 

They let go. 

Gloria heads down the stairs to her golisopod. His skin burns warm as he watches them meet up, as they round the corner, until they are gone. 

[aijee]

tw // mentions of rape

imo u shouldn’t stop updating bc of the accusations against mg. headlines were fucking misleading, i actually thought he raped someone at first bcos of the word choice. ure writing about his public persona, not him irl. we dk him either way so is not like ure violating something or breaking ur morals or whatever. op literally stated that mg never made any comments towards her or touched her in any way, he just made jokes that made her uncomfortable but never directed to her, she explicitly said that mg was not the cause for her to go to therapy & the bullying accusations have been proven to be fake. i-carats decided to translate the new SA accusations without being fluent in korean and that caused a huge misunderstanding, that’s why k- and j- carats have been calmer about it. u shouldn’t believe the screenshots of the other op either bcos there has also been a lot of inconsistencies of them, like the time stamp with the battery issue, etc. due to some mistranslations, all of us thought that the chest touching person was a girl when it’s a guy, inconsistencies like that make the this op more invalid cuz with changes happening constantly, the story becomes less believable, hope yk what i mean. fuck i-carats for mistranslating and blaming him for everything, and for making this issue more complicated than it has to be, like with the chest op. they’re even the cause some ppl don’t believe anything. sorry if i sound like an asshole but i’m mad. if he did make the comments, i believe he’s most likely changed. i used to make rape jokes but now i definitely know better. pretty sure he does as well, yk how the treats ppl now, how gentle and kind he is now, etc. however, if he did touch the guy, obviously i will not support him anymore. i’m not trying to defend him but i’m clearing some things up. hope ure neutral abt this. have a good day & really hope u don’t stop updating.

Thank you for your honesty and raw feelings, anon. It’s okay to be mad and have feelings, especially when those feelings aren’t exactly good feelings. Unrelated to the actual Situation(tm), my therapist told me something like, “Try thinking of feelings as just feelings. They come and go. They aren’t necessarily reflective of you as a person.” I thought that my bad feelings or opinions of others prevented me from being good or a functioning person. Fact: people are multifaceted as hell and that’s valid.

Re: morals, that’s fair insight for sure. I think my hesitation comes with the inherent visualization and association of that persona with the person himself, if that makes sense. E.g. when I’m reading RPF, I still visualize the faces of the individuals involved like actors in my mind. In that sense, perhaps it’s a personal discomfort mixing with morals with regard to writing RPF with a certain name and face in mind, who happen to be attached to a persona/person attached to allegations that may or may not be true. In short, it’s messy and vague and I’m still in the middle of figuring things out myself.

I have and always will be a proponent of professional, paid translations—as in, looking towards people who translate for a living. Professional translation is extremely serious work; imagine how important it is in medicine, law, business? There is always a doubtful voice in my head towards fan translations, regardless of the content. That’s not to undermine the hard work of people learning another language, engaging in content they enjoy, wanting to share it with people, etc. But in very serious cases that could possibly really, really hurt people, I will never fully trust translations I can’t pin to a reliable source. It’s easy to reflexively trust fan translations since they objectively control so much of international fans’ consumption of content. It’s also easy for international fans to fixate on wordings in translations when suddenly the faves are doing something questionable (Do we question fansubs on casual videos? Not really). In reality what we need to focus on is the ideas presented, because translations will never be 100% accurate, especially those done by fans.

If it gives you any perspective, an interesting problem for POC’s healthcare experience is that bilingual kids of monolingual parents are often pinned as the “translator.” Yes, they’re able to communicate in multiple languages, but the specificity of the information presented, and the importance of detail, can be lost in translation, even for those who grew up learning two languages natively. Why? Because they don’t learn the minutiae of translation. You’ll often see professional translators constantly using references, relearning things over and over again, etc. Normal multilingual people focus on getting messages across, not those tiny, tiny details. Food for thought.

How people approach, perceive and interact with people attached to abuse is a very messy thing. There is very rarely a “right” answer. I fully support your approach with whatever happens, whether it stays the same or evolves. For my two cents, I think it’s important to remember that the most important relationship in this moment remains that of Mingyu with the potential victim(s) involved; we hold our relationships with our faves so sacred, but I’m just putting that out there for some more perspective I personally think is important. And a third cent: there are people really close to me in my life who have, frankly, abused me. That’s partly why I’m seeing a therapist. But that doesn’t mean I fully reject them, or will never harbor good feelings towards them ever. Abusive behavior can still be exhibited by fundamentally good people, as paradoxical as that sounds. People are capable of growth; goodness and badness aren’t necessarily inherent and unchangeable. I fully respect and admire you for owning your emotions like that! That can be hard to do comfortably.

I’m not invalidating your response whatsoever! At least, that’s not my intention. I just wanted to present some things to think about. It’s also okay if your opinions don’t or do change. It’s still pretty early in the fiasco.

[cakesunflower]

Fall From Grace [C.H. AU] Part 1

A/N: sooo if any of y’all remember, i had a fanfic called Fall From Grace and i ended up deleting it because i lost inspo. but i just decided to pick it up again bc i got motivated to write it again. so this entire part 1 consists of the 8 chapters that used to be on here, roughly over 24.8k words. part 2 will be everything that comes after, so if you’d read the 8 chaps that used to be on here, this part may seem familiar bc it’s literally the same thing. happy reading!

-----UPDATE: once again tumblr has fucked up and i realized a little too late. please do not read this on desktop, because parts of the story seem to be missing from it. read it on the MOBILE APP. that way, you get the FULL version. this website is so dumb.-----

READ!!! ON!!! MOBILE!!!!!

Part 1

“YOU CAN’T BE serious,” Calum Hood laughed, though even he could hear the slight nervous tinge that slipped into his tone as he stared at his parents, utterly baffled and taken aback at what he just heard. He was sure his parents were kidding, but the stoic expressions on their faces had Calum’s gut twisting in dread.

“Does it look like we’re joking, Calum?” His mother responded, staring at her son in practiced disappointment. He was twenty-three years old, she shouldn’t have to treat him like he was some teenager making mistakes. Yet, here they were, doing exactly that because Calum hadn’t left them with any other choice.

Calum’s hands curled into fists, the same hands that had the initials of the very parents that were doing this to him tattooed on them, exhaling a sharp, affronted breath. “What the hell am I supposed to do in North Carolina?” he demanded, his voice that only carried a hint of his Australian accent deepening with the irritation that ran through his veins.

“Stay away from the limelight you’ve attracted to yourself,” his father answered, not at all perturbed by Calum’s annoyance as he nodded towards the several tabloid magazines on the table between them, all slapped with headlines and pictures of Calum that did not paint him, or his family, well. His dad lifted his chin, continuing, “Your grandparents already have a room ready for you; they expect you at the airport tomorrow evening.”

Calum couldn’t believe this. He loved his parents, he truly did, but having this being done to him made him seriously question their love for him. They would argue they weren’t doing this to him but for him, but in this moment it was all the same to Calum. So what if he got into some trouble here and there—that didn’t justify them sending him to a town that barely had the population of his alma mater. He may be out of school, but it was still the summer—Calum would be damned if he had to spend it in fucking Bridgelake, North Carolina. He wasn’t a child. They couldn’t just ship him off as a way of getting rid of the problem.

He crossed his arms over his chest, the short sleeves of his shirt straining against his muscles as he tautly stated,  You can’t make me go there, let alone spend the entire summer.”

“Actually, we can,” his dad countered smoothly, his accent thicker than his son’s as he pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose, leaning back on the couch. Calum remained where he stood, only his gaze flickering towards his dad. “I still have control over your accounts and I’m freezing most of your assets.” Calum froze, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat at the news and muscles tightening in anger. “You’re lucky I’m even sending you across the country in first class. You’ll have limited access to your account; should you run out, your grandparents will give you an allowance as they see fit.”

Calum was sure there would be bruises left on his arms from how tightly he was gripping them, still crossed over his chest as he felt even the material of his rings biting into his skin. Was his dad serious? Part of Calum still hoped that this was some kind of prank his parents were pulling on him, but each passing second had the ball of dread sinking lower in his stomach and his anger over this whole thing spiking.

Before he could get another word out, his mother spoke up once more, this time her voice soft and carrying maternal gentleness. “Sweetheart, you’re out until odd hours of the night and you’re showing up to company events either high out of your mind or drunk off your feet. If you’re not doing that, you’re getting involved with some girl or another or getting kicked out of places for acting out. You’re bringing bad attention to your father’s company and more importantly, to yourself.”

A dull ache formed in Calum’s mouth from clenching his jaw so hard as his mother listed off everything he’s done in the past few months. The partying, the drinking, the drugs—he’s always done that, but he’s always been smart about it. But with each shot of whiskey, drag of a cigarette or hit of a blunt had more and more of Calum’s common sense slipping away and soon enough, he didn’t care who saw him doing what.

Though, he’s pretty sure the recent scandal of some girl he met once leaking messages, videos and pictures of a very nude Calum was the last straw for his parents.

Still, he couldn’t help but grumble, “What happened to there being no such thing as bad press?”

“You’re being careless,” his father snapped, making Calum tighten his jaw once more. “This decision is final, Calum. Maybe staying off the grid in a no-name town will help you realize there’s more to life than getting high or partying every Goddamn night. Besides, it’ll give you some time to spend with your grandparents—it’s been a while since you saw them.”

Calum exhaled sharply through his nose, aggravation running thicker than blood in his veins. He didn’t mind seeing his grandparents; he missed them a lot, actually. But the mere thought of leaving his Los Angeles home to stay in some small-ass North Carolina town for three months made him want to smoke three packs out. He was pissed and, frankly, mildly embarrassed that his parents were treating him like he was thirteen instead of twenty-three. But more so pissed because he had plans with his friends for the summer and now what? He was being dropped in the middle of nowhere?

Fucking hell.

                                           ✩✩✩✩✩

After a seven and a half hour flight with a stop in Charlotte, Calum’s plane finally landed in Wilmington, North Carolina around eight at night. The airport was ridiculously small—the plane from Charlotte to Wilmington didn’t even have first class, though since the flight was only an hour long, Calum didn’t mind too much. But when he greeted his grandfather with a hug after collecting his bags and stepped outside of the airport, a heavy sigh escaped him at the sight of the pouring rain. Los Angeles would never treat him this way.

Though, Calum would admit, the rain was definitely a startling depiction of his mood ever since his parents dropped this news on him.

“Oh, come on, pal. It’s not gonna be like this every day,” Grandpa Daniel assured Calum with a clap on his back, opening up the umbrella as the two of them made their way through the parking lot to where his car was parked. It wasn’t busy and not many people were around, so only the sound of rain pattering against the ground and the rattling of the luggage cart wheels could be heard. “You’ll see the sunshine soon.”

Calum hiked the strap of his duffel bag higher up on his shoulder, hands gripping the bar of the cart as he pushed it along. “It’s not L.A. sunshine,” he grumbled under his breath.

Grandpa Daniel heard him over the rain. “Sun’s the same everywhere, Cal. Only difference is you’ll see it here three hours sooner.”

Rolling his dark eyes, Calum didn’t say anything in response as they finally reached his grandfather’s station wagon, putting all of his luggage in the trunk and refusing Grandpa Daniel’s help before quickly making his way over to the front seat. He had his hood up under his leather jacket, which his grandfather made fun of him for wearing because who wore leather jackets and hoodies during the summer? Apparently Calum.

The drive from Wilmington to Bridgelake didn’t take too long, especially with Calum’s grandfather playing Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin through the car, but that didn’t stop Calum from drearily staring out the raindrop stained windows. They drove through the somewhat busy roads, the small houses and stores nothing but shadows in the night yet a sharp reminder to Calum that he wasn’t in Los Angeles anymore. Even during the night when no one was out and about because of the rain, Calum could see the difference in this town and the city he loved; the fact that it was raining on his first night here was probably a sign on how the rest of his so-called summer was going to go.

Shit, he couldn’t believe his parents did this to him.

It wasn’t long until his grandfather was pulling the car onto the gravel driveway of one story house that Calum couldn’t help but compare to a hotel suite. Correction—he’s stayed in suites larger than his grandparents’ home, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to tell them that. By the time they had arrived, the rain had slowed and the house was a shadowy structure save for the light Calum saw through the window on the house and on the front door.

This time Grandpa Daniel grasped Calum’s duffel and one of the suitcases while Calum carried the other two by the handles, following his grandfather up the steps as the mild drizzle pelted at his jacket and hood. “Here we are,” Grandpa Daniel breathed out, shooting his grandson, who was almost a head taller than him, a grin as he used his keys to unlock the front door. “Home sweet home.”

Calum took in a preparing breath. Not what he would call it.

                                              ✩✩✩✩✩

Olivia wished she was used to the stares that often followed her when she left the comfort of her home, feeling the judgmental gazes burning into her skin like they have been for the past four years. Sure, they weren’t as bad as when she was eighteen, but apparently some people still thought to visualize their opinions whenever Olivia came into view, and all she could do was ignore them and not feed into their contempt.

So she pasted on a smile, kept her head up as much as she could bring herself to, and went on with her day.

Still, that didn’t mean she couldn’t hear the two women standing at the end of the cereal aisle, glancing over at Olivia as if she was a different species. Olivia sighed. Perks of living in a town with a total population matching that of a small school in a big city. Some weren’t as bad as others; they either didn’t care enough to send a glare Olivia’s way every time she stepped out of her apartment or they had moved on altogether, but there would always be some people in Bridgelake that would hate seeing Olivia out and about in the same streets as them.

She could only hope her fourteen year old sister, Alana, wasn’t as hyper aware of others’ stares as she was.

“Alright, I got my Loopies, can we go now?” Alana smiled innocently as she dropped the box of Froot Loops into the cart, staring at her older sister with a hopeful expression.

Olivia raised bemused eyebrows, chin dropping slightly. “Okay, first of all—you’re fourteen. When are you gonna stop calling them Loopies?” Alana rolled her eyes, waving Olivia off, who continued, “And we still have half the grocery list left. Keep it moving.”

Alana’s shoulders dropped with a huff and Olivia had to suppress her amused smile. Her younger sister wasn’t really a fan of going grocery shopping—when whatever Alana wanted was in the cart, she was ready to leave, and sometimes the only way to quell her was to promise a McFlurry from the in-house McDonald’s up front.

Alana walked beside Olivia as she moved the cart along, making their way out of the aisle—they walked past the two women, who noticeably quieted as the two girls walked past and Olivia didn’t spare them a glance, her stomach twisting in annoyance—and towards the back of Walmart. But as they made their way to the wall of milk and juices, another cart made its way through an aisle to their left, causing Olivia to stop short so the two carts didn’t collide.

“Olivia, honey, almost ran right into you!” Came the voice of Claudia Hood, an elderly woman who adored Olivia and Alana as much as they adored her. She was in her late sixties but always on her feet, active especially at the animal shelter she ran. Olivia had met her years ago when she used to volunteer at the shelter when she was in high school, which Alana now volunteers at. “Already time for your weekly shopping, hmm?”

“Yeah,” Olivia responded before shooting her sister a dry smile. “Alana wasted all the eggs trying to bake a cake so, you know, it was time.”

Amusement danced in Claudia’s dark eyes, eyebrows raising. “Did it turn out well, at least?”

“Yes.”

“No.”

Alana scowled at Olivia for her negative answer, the older one just smiling innocently as Claudia laughed at the sisters. “My grandson arrived last night so I brought him with me to stock up on anything he may want to eat,” she informed with a shake of her head. “I’m getting all the healthy food and he’s off somewhere getting snacks.” Claudia then glanced around, a slight furrow in her eyebrows. “Though, he’s been off for some time. Wouldn’t be surprised if he’s gotten himself lost.”

Olivia raised her eyebrows at that, her maternal instincts derived from practically raising her sister for the past four years sending a tiny rush of worry through her at the thought of Claudia’s grandson being lost somewhere in here. Despite the size of the town, the Walmart here was intimidatingly big and easy to get lost in.

“Oh, there he is!” Claudia’s voice suddenly exclaimed, making Olivia look at her as she raised her hand, looking straight ahead as she called, “Calum, over here, love!”

Following Claudia’s gaze, Olivia had expected to see a young boy, maybe even a teenager, since Claudia had never disclosed her grandson’s age. What she hadn’t expected, however, was a six foot tall man with dark curls and tattoos inking his arm that carried some bags of chips and fingers decorated with rings that held a case of beer making his way over. Olivia blinked at the sight of the startlingly handsome guy who was probably around her age, with golden skin and deep, dark brown eyes, making his way down as if he owned the place and didn’t give a shit about it.

He had a bored expression on his face, plump lips pressed together as he approached them and dumped what he carried in his grandmother’s cart with a clatter. “Olivia, Alana, this is my grandson Calum,” Claudia introduced with a smile, gesturing to the man who was a good two heads taller than her. Maybe more. “Calum, this is Olivia and Alana.”

“Hi,” Alana chirped happily, while Olivia offered a polite smile of her own. Calum’s gaze flickered to the younger of the two, his lips twitching into the smallest of smiles, before he looked at Olivia. She felt herself stiffen slightly under his gaze, feeling as though he was looking right through her, and she forced herself to break his intense gaze. Olivia was used to people staring at her—she wasn’t used to people looking at her.

“He’s staying with us for the summer,” Claudia said, bringing Olivia’s attention back to the elderly woman, who smiled happily, “So you’ll be seeing lots of him around town.”

“‘M not exactly a social butterfly, Grams,” Calum’s low voice spoke, crossing his arms over his chest and Olivia tried not to notice how his biceps bulged under the tight black shirt that read GUCCI across his broad chest. She did, however, notice the hint of a lisp in his accented yet raspy voice; Olivia didn’t know someone’s voice could hold so many traits.

“Really, now?” Claudia raised an eyebrow, shooting her grandson an amused yet skeptical look as she clicked her tongue. “That’s not what your father tells me.”

Olivia’s eyebrows lifted curiously, if not by what Claudia said then by the reaction it elicited from Calum, which consisted of his sharp jaw clenching tightly—how could someone have baby-like chubby cheeks but a jaw sharp enough to cut glass?—while turning his head away from his grandmother. He almost reminded Olivia of a petulant child, which would be amusing if it weren’t for the muscle jumping in his jaw.

Calum, on the other hand, was seething with irritation because he didn’t need his dad talking to his grandparents about what Calum got up to. Let them see it on TV, the Internet, or on magazines like the rest of the world. Other people’s words were less incriminating than his own father’s. Calum knew he had no room to be angry about his grandparents learning what he had gotten up to—they may live in the middle of nowhere but they still had Internet and a TV, they could easily find out what Calum got himself wrapped up in—but the last thing he wanted was his parents gossiping to his grandparents about him.

His mood sour, more so than it already was, Calum’s jaw remained tight, ignoring the dull ache his teeth soon began experiencing. Olivia found herself looking at him again as Alana and Claudia talked about one of the dogs at the shelter, wondering what Claudia could’ve meant by her words that had gotten Calum so blatantly pissed off. She didn’t know him at all, but she knew an angry person when she saw one.

Calum just radiated a bad energy at this point, and Olivia felt a bit uncomfortable being around someone who looked like he’d rather be anywhere but here, too used to people giving that vibe when she was near, so Olivia quickly yet politely interrupted Claudia and Alana’s conversation. “Sorry, guys, but we still have some grocery left and gotta stop at the library before it closes,” Olivia smiled apologetically, thanking the universe that her excuse wasn’t really a lie. They did have to do those things and it was coming close to the public library’s closing time, but she hadn’t been in a rush until after meeting Calum.

“Oh, sure, sure, honey,” Claudia nodded, gesturing for the girls to run off.

Alana waved goodbye as Olivia pushed her cart forward, forcing herself to bring her gaze over to Calum, feeling her heart thump particularly harshly when she saw his dark eyed gaze already on her. She forced a smile on her face as she said, “It was nice meeting you, Calum.” He blinked before nodding once, not bothering with a verbal response. Jeez, what was up with him? Shooting a wider, more genuine smile to Claudia, Olivia added, “I’ll see you later!”

The two girls moved along after bidding goodbye, though Olivia could still hear Claudia admonish Calum behind her. “You could at least say a friendly goodbye, Calum. No grandson of mine is going to walk around as if he’s learned no manners.”

Olivia didn’t hear Calum’s response as they kept moving. She didn’t see Claudia or her grandson again as they continued shopping, though Olivia bit the inside of her cheek when she thought about him for a moment. He definitely looked like a city guy; tight shirt and jeans despite the eighty degree weather outside, and she had even noticed his expensive looking boots. Who wore polished black boots to Walmart?

“Claudia’s grandson’s cute, don’t you think?” Alana hummed as they finally got to the self-checkout, loading the items on the belt as Olivia scanned them.

Olivia shot her a glance, trying not to think of the dark eyes and inked skin. “Kind of old for you, isn’t he?”

Her fourteen year old sister rolled her eyes but Olivia didn’t miss the flush in her cheeks, once again trying to hide her amused grin as she double bagged the gallon of milk.

Bridgelake rarely ever got new residents, even if Calum was a temporary one for the summer, Olivia would be lying if she wasn’t curious about the new guy. Even if he did seem like he had a stick shoved up his ass. He was Claudia and Daniel’s grandson, and Olivia and Alana were close with them and enjoyed being around them. Especially because they were such happy, genuinely kind people and were two of the few people who didn’t turn Olivia and Alana away when the accident happened four years ago. So with grandparents like that, Olivia couldn’t help but wonder why Calum seemed to look like he perpetually woke up on the wrong side of the bed.

                                                 ✩✩✩✩✩

Calum could quite honestly name only two things that didn’t make his stay in Bridgelake as intolerable as it potentially could. The first thing was seeing his grandparents and the second was getting to hang out with their German Shepherd, Bruno. His mood remained sour since he arrived from the airport, but even Calum couldn’t keep the smile off his face when he greeted his grandfather at the airport and then his grandmother and Bruno at the house.

If there were two things that could put a smile on Calum’s face, it was family and dogs—even when the former were making him want to put his head through a wall.

He’s been in Bridgelake for three days, and was already fielding calls and messages left and right from his friends back in Los Angeles, asking him where the hell he was. Really, he told his three best friends already about his punishment, all of whom laughed their asses off at Calum’s expense, and everyone else was just wondering where their party provider friend ran off to. Calum sometimes wondered if those people were actually his friends or just wanted him around for the parties he threw and the alcohol he provided.

Technically, he knew the answer, but didn’t want to think about it.

But really—Calum would rather be partying it up with his real and fake friends back home than slouching in his grandfather’s La-Z-Boy, aggravated that he quite literally had nothing to do here. There was always something going on in Los Angeles, so Bridgelake being dryer than dirt was making Calum irrationally irritated. He liked being entertained, he liked going out in L.A. with his friends—none of which could happen here. Being left alone with his own thoughts was a pastime he’d rather not indulge himself in. Especially when they reminded him of how truly alone he was.

As if reading his lamenting mood, Calum’s grandfather spoke up, “You know Bridgelake may not be your fancy big city, but that doesn’t mean there’s nothing to do here, pal.”

Calum leaned his head back in the recliner haphazardly, as if it took too much effort to hold it up so he lolled it to sideways to raise a bemused eyebrow at Gramps, who was sitting on the couch to Calum’s right. “Oh, yeah?” he snorted in disbelief. “Like what?”

Gramps looked up from the book he was reading, gaze landing on Calum. “Well,” he began, taking off his reading glasses. “There’s the cinemas, a new bowling alley opened up a few months ago and—oh, there’s also the beach. That’s something you should definitely be familiar with, eh?”

Calum rarely ever went to the beach in Los Angeles, only when there was a bonfire or if someone was throwing a party at their beach house. But, really, was that list his grandfather just gave him supposed to impress him? It was pathetic—it was nothing. If Calum wanted, he could do all of that in one day and the rest of the three months would be spent in bored misery. “No clubs? Bars?”

His grandfather rolled his eyes. “Sorry to disappoint but we don’t have any of your Californian clubs here.” Then he pointed at Calum with his glasses. “We do have a few bars around town—though, they don’t open until five.”

It was only eleven-thirty in the morning and Calum was two seconds away from calling up his parents and demanding a flight back home. He might as well just smoke to keep himself entertained for a few moments. Calum let out a deep groan, sinking lower into the recliner as he stared up at the ceiling, eyes following the quick movements of the fan whirring around. “Why don’t you go to the shelter, then?” Gramps suggested with a sigh. “I’m sure your grams wouldn’t mind help with the animals.”

It was comical how Calum perked up at the mention of animals—some of the very few things that could put him in a good mood. Maybe being surrounded by little balls of fur would help distract him from being in this miserable town.

So Calum stood up with a huff, ignoring the satisfied expression on his grandfather’s face as he walked out of the living room, past the dining room and kitchen and headed down the end of the hall where his room was. Honestly, it was literally smaller than his bathroom back home, but he wasn’t going to tell his grandparents that. It baffled Calum how his family lived in a house that had a garage the size of his grandparents’ entire home, and they stuck to living in this small space. They had the money and the means, Calum knew, so living here was their choice. He didn’t—couldn’t—understand why.

Once he had put on his jeans, boots and favorite leather jacket over his Led Zeppelin shirt, he left the house after taking the keys to his grandfather’s truck that he was allowed to drive. It was rustic and a deep red color, the engine sputtering to life and not at all familiar to Calum’s ears since he was so used to hearing the roar of his BMW back home, but it’d have to do, he lamented.

The town was small and his grandfather had given him directions to the shelter, which was on First Street, so Calum drove with the air conditioner blasting against his face. It was hot out, and his outfit probably didn’t help, but Calum was used to the California heat so the North Carolina weather really was nothing in comparison.

He drove through the surprisingly busy streets, past houses, restaurants, salons, farmers markets and parks and he almost felt suffocated by how strong the small town vibe this place carried was. Sure, Los Angeles was packed with people and New York was even worse, but something about big cities comforted Calum. He could feel lost and have his own headspace if he wanted, even if eventually his face ended up in front of some tabloid or another. Small towns may be isolated, but even inside them a person had a low chance of getting lost amongst everyone else unlike in a big city. Small towns weren’t as private as his cities were.

It wasn’t hard to find his grandmother’s animal shelter; right in between a bookstore and a photography one, with a blue and white sign labeled New Homes with a paw print in the corner of it. Finding a parking space, Calum stepped out with sunglasses shielding his eyes, shoving the keys in his jeans pocket as he stepped onto the sidewalk before pushing open the door.

Immediately, the many smells of an abundance of animals greeted Calum’s nose, as well as the occasional barking and meowing that overpowered any other sound. It was a spacious place, with the left and right walls lined up with little dens for cats and dogs, roomy enough for them to fit in comfortably with a caged gate to keep them inside. There were playpens in the middle and a counter in the front where all the paperwork was done, and there was a doorway in the back that led to the bathing area, behind the shelves of pet food, toys, and other care products for sale.

Calum took off his sunglasses, taking in the sight of two young kids sitting in one of the playpens, overjoyed to be playing with labrador puppies, and a few adults looking around as he hung his glasses on his neckline. He instantly felt himself drawing closer to the dens where the dogs were, the biggest ones on the ground and the smaller ones higher up on the shelf.

“Hi, buddy,” he murmured quietly, sticking his fingers through one of the den cages where a basset hound sat, tilting his head towards Calum’s fingers to brush up against them. The corner of Calum’s lips tugged up at the puppy trying to get closer to him even with the cage separating them. “You’re pretty cute, huh?”

“Calum, honey,” his grandmother’s voice sounded, making his hand drop from the cage, much to the puppy’s dismay as Calum turned around, watching as his grandmother smiled and made her way over. “Dan told me you were coming. Got bored of sitting around the house, hm?” she asked knowingly, raising a pointed eyebrow.

Calum shoved his fists into the pockets of his leather jacket, feeling the cool metal of his bracelets on either wrist rest against his skin. “Something like that,” he vaguely responded, his attention drawn towards the playpen when the young girl let out a delighted squeal because a puppy was happily licking at her face. Even Calum had to admit it was a heartwarming sight.

“Can you do me a favor, love?” Grams brought his attention back, making him look down at the short woman with dark blonde hair speckled with grey. He lifted his eyebrows silently. “Head off into the back storage room and there’s bags of dog food sitting on a top shelf. Can’t miss it. Bring over two and put them on that shelf over there, will you?”

He wanted to tell her he was just here to see the animals, not be put to work, but the hopeful look on his grandmother’s face had him swallowing his words. So with a nod, he turned to head to the back room, though he still rolled his dark eyes in exasperation. Calum passed all of the other animals, weaving through some of the people loitering around the store as he entered the back. He walked past a bathing area, nose wrinkling at the unsurprising smell of wet dog before reaching another door, where he saw an abundance of products that he saw some of in the actual store.

Catching sight of the large packages of food, Calum picked up two of them and hoisted them on his right shoulder effortlessly, right hand resting on top of it to keep the two pile steady as he made his way back. Once he spotted the shelf he was supposed to put them on, he put the two packages there on display, habitually dusting his hands off together as he turned to make his way back to where his grandmother was, though stopping when the shop door swung open and in came two familiar faces.

It was the two girls from Walmart the other day. Calum had to admit, the older one was ridiculously attractive with brilliant blue eyes, sharp cheekbones and full lips Calum couldn’t help but notice. She—Olivia, her name Calum remembered—was definitely a sight for sore eyes in a town like this, and while Calum had the opportunity to be a decent human being to her, his sour mood prompted him to keep his mouth shut when she appeared. His grandmother had given him an earful for that.

Calum watched as Olivia entered the store behind her younger sister, Alana, who wore the same light blue shirt the other workers in the store did. The two talked to his grandmother for a bit before Alana went off to the side to the cages, leaving just Olivia with his grams as he made his way over.  

“—can’t really afford it, so she wanted me to ask you if she could increase her volunteering hours just by a little bit,” Olivia was saying as Calum leisurely made his way over, watching as the brunette ran her fingers through her wavy hair to push it back. She let out a quiet sigh. “I promised her she could go next year, but she was still pretty disappointed and I feel bad.”

“Oh, sweetheart, you’re doing such a wonderful job raising her—I’m sure Alana understands,” Grams reassured with a smile, giving Olivia’s hand a squeeze right behind she noticed Calum’s presence once he reached them. “Oh, Olivia, you remember my grandson.”

As if I could forget. Olivia smiled at him, the same smile she offered at Walmart that Calum hadn’t even bothered to return, and didn’t feel inclined to do so now because of the heavy weight on his shoulders. His grandmother delivered a sharp yet subtle jab to his side, causing the 6’1” man to grimace slightly before forcing a small smile. “Yeah, good to see you again,” Olivia greeted kindly.

She came off as kind of shy, Calum couldn’t help but observe, especially with how her fingers were fiddling with the strap of her purse. He also noticed how Olivia wore little to no makeup, which was quite a difference from the many women he knew back at home, and while that wasn’t something Calum noticed nor cared about, he couldn’t help but think how Olivia was one of the most attractive girls he’s ever seen.

Calum wanted to snort at himself; what was he supposed to do with that thought? Then again, he figured if he was going to suffer in Bridgelake for three months, then he might as well have something nice to look at.

Suddenly Grams let out a small laugh. “Looks like the retriever pups are having a field day with Alana.”

Calum looked at his grandmother, seeing that she was looking past him and followed her gaze where he saw Alana cradling two of the Golden Retriever puppies, who were happily licking away at her face. “They’re livin’ the dream,” Calum’s low voice sounded, eyes on the sight. He wasn’t sure if he meant his words of if they were supposed to be some kind of sarcastic dig at the fact that he’s most certainly not living his dream in this town.

Olivia peered at him, taking in the curly tousle of his hair and the sharp line of his jaw as he stood tall with shoulders squared and hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. Seriously—how was he wearing that in eighty degree weather? She felt constricted in the capris she was currently wearing. “Yeah,” Olivia found herself slowly speaking, wondering if he was up for holding a conversation. She wasn’t sure if Calum wasn’t the talkative type or if his obvious dislike of the town had him keeping to himself. “Our apartment building doesn’t allow pets so Alana gets her fill volunteering here.”

The smallest of smiles curled at Calum’s lips hearing that, gaze flickering to Olivia. She was also watching Alana, and just by the fond look on her face Calum could tell how much she loved her sister. It made Calum miss his own, who was living her life in New York, as he pursed his lips. Maybe if his parents hadn’t sent him here he could’ve gone to see her.

“Anyways, I should get going to work,” Olivia said, shooting Claudia a smile. “I’ll be back during my lunch break to pick her up.”

Calum watched as Grams shot Olivia a mildly exasperated look. “You know Alana likes staying here for more than just a few hours, especially now that her hours are going to increase,” she said with a light laugh. “I’m more than willing to drop her home.”

Olivia’s lips parted and for a brief second Calum saw the hopeful look flash across her eyes before she worried, “Are you sure?”

Grams shot her a look. “Olivia.”

Then the blue eyed girl grinned, taking a relieved breath as she hiked her bag higher up on her shoulder. “Alright, thank you, Claudia,” Olivia breathed as she walked backwards towards the door. “I’ll see you,” she added with a wave as Grams called back a goodbye and Calum merely pulled at the front of his jacket, hands still fisted into the pocket, as a makeshift wave.

Calum watched after her as she disappeared down the sidewalk, unable to process even a single thought since his grandmother sighed next to him. “Such a hardworking girl, bless her heart.”

He glanced at her, quirking an eyebrow as she moved over to the counter, opening up a binder full of lists that Calum didn’t spare a look at as he lazily followed Grams. “So you, uh, know her well?”

Grams hummed, eyes on the binder. “Oh, yes, for a few years now. It’s unfair what’s happened to her and her sister.”

Calum blinked, unsure of what she meant as he glanced over his shoulder where Alana was playing with the puppies before asking confusedly, “What do you mean?”

A sigh left Grams, left arm folded on top of the counter as she looked up at her grandson. “There was a horrible accident four years ago,” she began quietly, voice lowered so no one else would listen in as Calum found himself leaning in slightly. “The girls’ parents were involved. Their father, Sid, was drunk and had gotten behind the wheel. Swerved into another vehicle and ended up injuring one of the other people involved, and killing three others. One of them was the girls’ mother, Jana.”

Eyes wide, Calum stared at his grandmother in disbelief, her words an unexpected head spinner. That was definitely he hadn’t seen coming, and suddenly Calum’s chest felt tight as he thought of Olivia and Alana, and how he couldn’t possibly imagine what they must have felt, what they must feel, with a past like that.

Grams had a sad, heartbroken look in her eye, gaze distant as her brows furrowed slightly. “Sid’s serving a fifteen to life sentence. Olivia was eighteen when it happened so she got custody of Alana, since the poor girls had no family to take them in. They stayed with a family friend but their mum and grandparents left money for them so Olivia sold their family home and got an apartment for herself and Alana. Been raising her sister ever since.”

He didn’t know Olivia or Alana, but Calum’s jaw dangerously tightened at Grams’ words, feeling a heaviness in his chest at the thought of the two girls being alone after something as horrible as that. Calum couldn’t even imagine what it would be like to live in a world where their father was imprisoned for unintentionally killing their mother, and an uncomfortable shiver traveled down his spine. He didn’t want to even think about something like that; the fact that it was those girls’ lives was horrific, gut twisting uneasily as his throat worked to keep it from tightening.

“But it’s a small town,” Grams continued, bringing Calum’s attention back to her, watching as her thin eyebrows furrowed together in a distasteful frown as she shook her head. “People talk—they haven’t stopped. Many see Olivia and Alana and it’s a reminder that their father killed three people they all knew and loved, even if one of them was the girls’ mother. Give the poor things nasty eyes as if it’s their fault everything happened. People talk and stare and Olivia hears and sees it all and all she does is keep a smile and mind her own business and look after her sister. For someone who’s only twenty-two, she’s been doing an amazing job with Alana. I just wish people would let them be.” she sighed, a dismayed expression washing over her aged face. “That’s one of the harsh things about living in a place as small as Bridgelake—everyone knows everyone and when something like that happens, they never stop talking about it.”

That’s one thing he loved about Grams—and Gramps—that they were both laid back. They had done their duty with Calum’s dad, raising him to be the best he could be, which he did by becoming a successful entrepreneur who owned hundreds of hotels and banks around the world and was constantly attributing his career to his parents, and weren’t at all judgemental or strict or anything like that.

As Grams’ words settled in Calum’s mind, his hands clenched into tighter fists in the pockets of his jacket. Calum was used to having people talk about him, what with him being on every gossip site and magazine issue weekly, but that didn’t mean it didn’t annoy the shit out of him or that he enjoyed people staring at him as if he was an exhibit at the zoo. Some people, his parents sometimes included, thought he was purposefully getting drunk or high or caught doing the walk of shame from one girl’s house to another for the attention when in reality, he was just trying to live his damn life. But of course everyone needed a picture, needed a story to publish, and they were all about him being a party animal with girls hanging off each arm. Not too shabby, sure, but certainly annoying. Certainly the kind of person his parents weren’t too proud of.

He hated the tabloids talking about him—he was well aware he could just stopping putting himself into those situations but he just didn’t want to because he didn’t want to live by anyone’s standards but his own—and he wondered if that’s how Olivia felt with the people in this small-ass town gossiping about her. It was a horrible thing that happened, but it wasn’t her or her sister’s fault. How did everyone blaming them for it make any sense?

And when Grams told him how Olivia’s just kept her head held high in the face of the disapproval stares and plastered a smile on her face for the sake of her sister, told him how she tried to protect Alana as best as she could, Calum felt a twinge of guilt scratching at his gut. He knew he had come off as standoffish and rude towards Olivia. He may have a partying problem and Bridgelake may be the last place on Earth he wants to be, but Calum Hood wasn’t an asshole. At least, not to people who didn’t deserve it. And Olivia most certainly didn’t. Not when all she was trying to do was make a life for herself and her sister.

                                              ✩✩✩✩✩

Olivia shot her best friend, Addy, an exasperated look, who merely returned it with her blue eyes widening hopefully and lower lip jutting out pleadingly. But Olivia averted her gaze, cheek resting against her palm as she ate her Chinese food.

“Come on, Liv, you’ve got no plans and Alana has a sleepover,” Addy begged, sitting across from her at the small. They were both on their lunch break from work, sitting outside at one of the local Chinese restaurants under an umbrella to shield them from the mid afternoon sun. “We haven’t gotten dumb drunk in so long, it’ll be great!”

Olivia’s lips pursed, quirking an unimpressed eyebrow as she swallowed her spoonful of fried rice and orange chicken. “You’re not really selling that too well. I don’t wanna get dumb drunk.”

“Why not?” Addy pouted, her voice a high pitched whine that made Olivia’s lips twitch into a smile. “You’re literally going to be sitting in your living room binge watching Suits for the millionth time. If you ask me, getting drunk with your best friend sounds so much more appealing.”

“Not if Alana wants me to pick her up or something,” Olivia countered pointedly. When her sister was younger, she’d end up calling in the middle of the night because she couldn’t sleep anywhere but her own bed. But over the years Alana became better about sleeping over her friends’ houses, but Olivia would rather be sober for the night just in case Alana’s issues rose up against and she needed to be picked up. And since Uber wasn’t a big thing in Bridgelake and Alana hated bothering her friends’ parents, Olivia was her only ride.

Addy threw her head back with a groan, frustration with her best friend’s refusal of joining her nighttime outing. It’s not like she and Olivia didn’t hang out often—they always did, especially after Addy returned from school since she was a year younger—but their meetups mostly consisted of grabbing lunch or dinner. But Addy yearned for a fun girls night out at the local bar, which there weren’t many of because after her mom’s death, Olivia didn’t drink as often, especially when her sister was under her care.

Sure, Addy had managed to drag Olivia all the way to Charlotte for a concert a few months ago and left Alana under Claudia and Daniel Hood’s care, but Addy couldn’t help but miss her best friend. She was well aware that Olivia’s responsibilities had changed since four years ago, forced to grow up a lot quicker than everyone else their age, but Addy would be lying if she said she wasn’t a little bit selfish.

Glancing at Addy, Olivia felt her chest tighten guiltily at the disappointed expression on her best friend’s face, rolling her lips into her mouth as she thought for a moment. She hadn’t had a proper night out in a bar in a long time, always opting to drink some wine in her apartment with Addy or by herself, which irreversibly meant either Addy would have to find someone else to go with her to the bar when she wanted to or wouldn’t go at all, settling for a night in with Olivia and sometimes Alana. Addy, and her family, have done so much for Olivia and Alana; letting them stay with them when the accident happened and having them over for every holiday and anything else. Maybe one night at a bar wouldn’t hurt.

“Alright, fine,” Olivia relented as she put down her fork, and Addy’s head snapped up, eyes widening in anticipation. “I’ll go but I can’t promise getting dumb drunk. Maybe slightly tipsy, but not out of my mind, okay?”

Hours later, Olivia wasn’t regretting her agreement of coming to the bar with Addy. Alana had assured her she would be fine at the sleepover, and while it was a Thursday night, the bar was still busy. Temperance was one of the two bars in town, the other one being all the way by the shore towards the outer part of Bridgelake, so Olivia and Addy frequented and preferred Temperance because of its proximity. If Olivia was being honest, she’d say she liked when the dive bar was so busy; lots of people in town would be gathered there for drinks or a round of pool or something, and sometimes it made her think that they lived in a big city with so many people in there rather than a practical village.

And while Olivia wasn’t exactly a well-liked person in their town, she still enjoyed being around people, didn’t really shrink under their gaze. You know. . . So long as they didn’t scowl at her too much. Though, her smile was a trained mask that always remained to fool.

Music mixed from the seventies and eighties played through the speakers, joining in with the hum of patrons chattering and the clinking of pool balls, as Olivia and Addy sat in a small booth along the wall. They had taken two shots of tequila and while Grace was nursing a cosmo, Olivia had opted for a Bacardi and coke—though, heavier on the coke in an attempt to overtake the disgustingly bitter taste of Bacardi.

“Is he good looking, though?” Addy asked with a raise of her eyebrows, lowering her glass as the curious expression overtook her face.

Olivia had just finished telling her about Calum, since Addy had been out of town visiting her grandparents and Olivia didn’t really want to tell her about Daniel and Claudia’s visiting grandson over the phone. She preferred having in-person conversations. “Ridiculously,” Olivia answered truthfully, making Addy blink excitedly as she sat up. “Tall, dark curly hair, golden skin with tattoos. . .” Addy grinned widely, thrilled at this new man-candy that just landed in their boring town. “But he’s kind of, like, in a perpetual state of annoyance.”

Addy tilted her head to the side. “What do you mean?”

“Like,” Olivia paused, sucking in a breath as she tried to gather her thoughts and leaned back in the booth, hands outstretched to hold her glass. “I mean, I only saw him twice but both times he looked irritated as fuck. He looks like he’d rather be anywhere but here, honestly.”

Snorting, Addy raised her glass to her mouth once more, shooting Olivia a pointed look over the rim as she returned, “Can you blame him?” before taking a sip. “We live in Bumfuck, North Carolina.”

Olivia shrugged, her gaze wandering around the upbeat, packed bar that seemed to be lively with energy. “I’m used to it,” she mused.

“You don’t ever think of leaving? Living somewhere in a city with more than a schoolyard population?”

“I mean, if there’s an opportunity or if it’ll be good for Alana, then I’d be down to leave,” Olivia answered, returning her gaze to Addy’s blue eyes. “But I’m not actively looking to leave, you know? Can’t really afford it, anyways,” she added with a mumble as she brought her glass up. “Though, getting away from everyone here wouldn’t be the worst thing.”

Addy nodded in understanding as Olivia took a sip of her drink, thinking over her words which were honest and true. Bridgelake may not be the most popular or bustling town, but it was home, and she liked it here. Despite everything that happened, and despite the fact that there were some people around her that shunned her for her father’s mistake. She understood their anger, knew where it was coming from, but it’s not like it was her and her sister that poured the alcohol down his throat or forced him to get behind the wheel.

Nonetheless, there still was a small pool of guilt that he took the lives of two other people, yet some townsfolk seemed to forget that she lost her mother, too. And every time she thought about that—which was everyday—Olivia felt her throat tighten more and more until she couldn’t breathe.

But there were still people in town that still loved her, looked after and cared for her and Alana. Olivia didn’t mind living in Bridgelake, she had a comfortable life, but if given a good enough reason to leave, she wouldn’t let the opportunity slip by without sparing it a thought or two.

She chatted with Addy some more about mundane topics; their jobs, some gossip they read about their favorite celebrities online or the latest town gossip. Addy took another sip of her drink, feeling warmth pool in her stomach because that’s all she consumed, as her gaze flickered past Olivia and towards the door of the bar which just opened.

“Oh, hey, it’s Mr. Hood—oh, my God, that’s his grandson?” Addy demanded, her eyes widening and jaw slackening at the sight in front of her.

Olivia sat up at her best friend’s stunned expression and words, looking over her own shoulder and blinking in realization because, yes, Daniel Hood just walked into the bar with his tall grandson in tow. She watched as Daniel greeted a number of patrons at the bar, shaking hands and grinning before gesturing over to the looming figure behind him, most likely introducing everyone to Calum.

Who, in turn, nodded and shook hands in greeting, left hand still shoved into the pocket of his leather jacket yet a small smile curled politely at his lips. The lighting in the bar consisted of overhead lamps above each booth, lights on the bar and the ones above the pool area, and as Calum and his grandfather sat on the available seats on the side of the bar facing Olivia, she couldn’t help but admire how soft the glow of the yellow lights made his skin appear almost golden.

“Yeah, that’s Calum,” Olivia finally confirmed with a nod.

Addy turned to look back at Olivia, since she had turned in her seat to unabashedly follow Daniel and Calum’s movements as they sat behind her. Olivia wanted to laugh at the wide eyed, dropped jaw look on her best friend’s face. Addy looked absolutely stunned. “That’s gotta be the hottest guy I’ve seen in my life,” she stated, her voice a rushed whisper as she leaned forward on the table. She threw another look over her shoulder. “Holy hell.”

Letting out a laugh, Olivia took another sip of her drink, nodding her head along slightly in agreement. Addy wasn’t wrong—Calum was startlingly good looking. Olivia noticed some of the other women in the bar look over at him, his presence demanding to be acknowledged even by him merely sitting on a barstool. She never met anyone who just drew attention to themselves without meaning to, so effortlessly.

“He really does look like he’d rather be anywhere else in the world,” Addy added with a snort, leaning back in the booth. “He also looks kind of familiar, which is weird because I don’t think I’d ever forget a face like that.”

Olivia raised a confused eyebrow and looked over at Calum once again, taking in the indifferent expression on his face as his ring clad fingers wrapped around a bottle of beer, not even bothering to take part in the conversation his grandfather was having with the two men sitting with them. His dark eyes were lazily wandering over his surroundings, taking in the old movie and band posters on the walls and the shelves of liquor behind the bar, not looking particularly impressed with anything. As for why he looked familiar to Addy, Olivia had no clue, and neither did the girl herself. Where could she have possibly seen Calum before?

Narrowing her eyes at him, the words slipped out of Olivia’s mouth before she could stop them. “He looks like he’s got a stick shoved up his ass.”

Addy nearly choked on her drink, letting out a laugh as she covered her mouth with her napkin and stared at Olivia in amusement. Her best friend rarely ever said anything negative about anyone—especially when she knew first hand what it was like to hear people talking shit about her—so when Olivia uttered the smallest of insults directed at someone, Addy found it a lot funnier than it was. Ever since the accident and everyone giving Olivia and Alana the evil eye, Olivia did her best to ignore it and focus on the positives, especially to put on a brave face for her sister. Olivia was a sweetheart, and if anyone acted out with her, she would just put on a fake smile and move along. Wherease Addy would tell them to fuck right off and not look at her best friend and her sister like that again; sometimes she wished Olivia would stick up for herself more.

“He sticks out like a sore thumb,” Addy hummed, drawing her attention back to Calum.

Olivia agreed, eyes once again finding the dark haired man. She watched as he raised the bottle to his lips, taking in the sharp line of his jaw and the strong column of his throat as he drank the beer. He made a distasteful expression as he drank it, clearly not happy with the taste. Calum stood out in not just the way he looked but the way he dressed; everyone in Bridgelake’s attire consisted of summer shorts and tees because of the hot weather and humidity, along with truckers caps because of the popular rest stop just a few miles out of town. And then there was Calum, dressed in pants, expensive looking boots and a leather jacket that had Olivia’s body temperature rising just by looking at it.

Suddenly, as if feeling her gaze on him, Calum’s head ticked over a smidge, dark eyes meeting Olivia’s green ones from across the bar, causing her to straighten in her seat at the sudden eye contact. She saw the mild recognition flash across his face, brief and gone within a second, and she would be lying if she said she didn’t feel a bit surprised when Calum tipped his bottle towards her in acknowledgment before busying himself on his phone. It wasn’t much, but at least he greeted her in a way. It was something.

“You should talk to him,” Addy suggested, taking in that interaction and cracking a smile when Olivia stared at her in confusion. “What? You’re close with his grandparents and you’ve seen him, like, three times now.”

If anything, Olivia’s bewilderment intensified. “So that means I walk over and talk to him? He doesn’t look like he wants to talk.”

Addy shrugged. “Maybe he just needs a friend.”

Olivia raised an eyebrow, one corner of her lips curling up into a suspicious smile. “And that friend has to be me?” Addy shrugged as if to say sure, why not? Olivia rolled her eyes. “Not tonight. I’m here with you; I’ll befriend the moody Australian some other day.”

Addy grinned excitedly. “Promise?”

“Just finish your cosmo.”

                                                    ✩✩✩✩✩

The shrill sound of Olivia’s phone ringing interrupted the sound of Brooklyn Nine-Nine playing on the television in the living room where Alana was watching it, and Olivia put her plate in the dishwasher before drying her hands and answering Addy’s call. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Hey, oh my God—I figured out why Calum seemed so familiar!” Addy’s voice rang through, not even bothering with a proper greeting.

Quirking an eyebrow, Olivia pressed the phone between her ear and shoulder as she loaded the dishwasher. If she was being honest, it had slipped her mind that Addy had commented that she recognized Calum the other day at the bar. “And why’s that?”

“He’s the son of David Hood!”

Olivia blinked. “Who?” Was that name supposed to mean something to her?

Addy clicked her tongue impatiently. “He’s the CEO and owner of Hood Tower Hotels! They own hotels and resorts around the world and are, like, super rich. Holy shit, I didn’t know Mr. and Mrs Hood’s family were a bunch of millionaires!”

Olivia prided herself in not letting the plate slip out of her grasp at Addy’s words, eyes widening in stunned surprise at this piece of information. Millionaires? If that was true, what the hell were Claudia and Daniel doing living in a town as small and insignificant as Bridgelake? Surely they had the money to live anywhere they wanted, and they chose this place? Did anyone else know about their family? Sure, it was none of Olivia’s business, but she would be lying if she said she wasn’t curious. She’s known these people for years and not once did they mention anything like this.

Though, she didn’t blame them, really. If Olivia or her family had that much money, she wouldn’t go around announcing it to everyone she met.

“There’s more,” Addy’s conspiratorial voice pulled Olivia out of her thoughts, making her quickly shut the dishwasher and dry her hands before leaning against the counter. “Apparently Calum’s gotten, like, a ton of articles written and pictures and videos of him partying it the fuck up. I’m talking, like, drunk off his ass, videos of him smoking pot and even, like pics and videos of him leaked by some girl he’d been hooking up with.”

Olivia’s mouth dropped, staring at the opposite wall of the kitchen where a square table for four sat in absent astonishment, processing Addy’s words. In the living room, she could hear Alana laughing at the show she was watching, oblivious to her sister in the midst of trying to process this information. Calum was from Los Angeles, Olivia knew, and from what Addy told her, it seemed like he lived that lifestyle in its full experience.

Honestly, it was surprising that that’s the kind of person Calum was. He seemed so withdrawn and quiet every time Olivia came across him that the fact he was that much of a partier seemed almost unbelievable. And he had pictures and videos of him leaked by some hook up? Olivia didn’t have to wonder what kinds those would be. If all of that, plus the drinking and weed, warranted for articles to be written about him that told the entire world of his activities, then Olivia couldn’t help but feel bad for Calum. He was a young adult living his life—he shouldn’t have to be judged for any of that by the world. She knew what it was like to have eyes and whispers follow you everywhere you go, but it was a whole new level in Calum’s case.

Was that why he kept to himself since arriving here? Olivia wondered if his life being exposed to everyone made Calum Bridgelake’s new recluse. But then Addy told her how right before Calum arrived to town, there had been articles and pictures concerning him getting kicked out of some restaurant for drunk and disorderly behavior. So it seemed that Calum wasn’t as much of a hermit as he was presenting himself to be.

Safe to say, Olivia’s curiosity and confusion regarding the Australian only intensified.

Moments later, Alana’s footsteps came running into the kitchen as she called, “Olivia!” The elder of the two turned around, Addy still on the line, as Alana held her phone up. “Mrs. Hood just called me—she said she tried calling you but the line was busy.”

“Oops,” Addy said on the line.

Olivia raised an eyebrow. “What did she want?”

Then Alana grinned excitedly, bouncing on her heels. “She invited us over for dinner tonight. Said she’s gonna make a trifle for dessert!”

The thought of having dinner at Claudia’s house brought a smile to Olivia’s face, but then she suddenly remembered the new guest living in that house and Olivia’s mouth dried slightly. Addy gasped, seemingly having the same idea as she needlessly pointed out, “Oh, my God—you’re gonna have dinner with an L.A. boy!”

                                                ✩✩✩✩✩    

Familiar brown eyes stared back at Calum, full of a warmth and happiness that had him wondering if it was still there. Did people still see those things when they looked at him now, as opposed to when he was a young kid, like in this picture? He, for some reason, found himself lingering in the hallway of his grandparents’ home near the staircase, having just used the bathroom and absently stopping in front of the wall that had many pictures hung up.

They were all of his grandparents, aunts and uncles, parents, cousins, his sister and himself. The photograph Calum was currently staring at was one of himself, probably around four or five in age and a wide grin on his chubby cheeks, sitting on his grandfather’s lap. For the life of him he couldn’t remember when or where the picture was taken, but he still found himself smiling at it. He’d been here for nearly a week now, and hadn’t even stopped to look at the pictures until now.

“You know. . .” A hesitating, familiar voice sounded, prompting Calum to glance to his right where Olivia had entered the hallway. She and her sister had arrived to a dinner his grandmother had invited them to, which apparently wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. Calum regarded her for a moment as she neared, pretty in a casual pale yellow sundress and a denim jacket on top, until she came to stand next to him. She was so much shorter than him, which was different, because a lot of the girls Calum knew back at home came up at least to his eyes or something. Olivia barely grazed his shoulders. “For a town as small as this one, you’re pretty good at hiding out. Are you trying to be the new Bridgelake recluse because we already have one. His name’s Mr. Dobrosky; he lives next to the public library and tries to steal books from the drop-off box.”

Oh, my God—seriously? Olivia tried not to cringe. Did she really have nothing better to talk about than poor old Mr. Dobrosky and his sticky fingers? In her defense, she didn’t know what to talk about with Calum because even though Addy had filled her in on some of his activities back in California, that didn’t mean she knew him as a person—just what he got up to with his friends. Olivia was just trying to do what Addy had told her to: befriend him. But she doubted comparing him to Mr. Dobrosky was going to help her in that case.

But, much to her surprise, Olivia watched Calum shrug his broad shoulders lightly, eyes trained on the pictures in front of them. She followed his gaze. How had she not connected that one of the little boys in the photos she’s seen a hundred times was him? In a low, cool voice Calum responded, “Not much to do around here that makes me want to leave the house.”

Olivia tilted her head to the side slightly. “How do you know what’s there to do if you don’t leave the house?” she countered with a life of a perfectly plucked brow, her tone taking a challenging, playful lilt to it that even surprised herself.

Brown eyes flickered to meet green as Calum turned to face her properly, tilting his head and answered her question with one of her own, “What is there to do in this small town?”

“Lots of things,” was Olivia’s instant reply, trying not to get too excited over the fact that Calum finally said more than three words to her, allowing her to hear a bit of his accent. He was quiet, contrary to what Addy had informed her of his partying habits, and that somehow made Olivia want to hear from him. “There’s a movie theater and an old drive-in theater that still runs, a bunch of parks that are good for jogging, the beach, a lake where you can go canoeing, the library—”

“Where Mr. Dobrosky tries to steal books from?” Calum cut her off with a quip, a smirk curling at his lips as he raised his eyebrows at her. His gaze was fixed on her face and the way she pressed her lips together to suppress the smile threatening to appear.

Olivia, on the other hand, picked up on the mirth dancing in his dark irises, feeling strangely giddy to see something other than casual indifference he’d been sporting since she met him. He was joking around with her, kind of. “Yeah,” she affirmed, letting go of her fingers behind her back and gesturing absently with one hand. “Charlotte’s also only a couple hours’ drive from here; there’s lots of museums there and lots of musicians come for their tour to the Music Pavillion and The Fillmore.”

She hoped she didn’t sound like some kind of pressuring weirdo, telling Calum all the things he could do. That wasn’t strange, right? She was just being friendly, like Addy had suggested for her to do. No harm in informing Calum of the places he could go to while he was here, right?

Apparently Calum didn’t think so as he lifted his chin a little. “D’you go to lots of concerts there?”

“A couple, yeah,” Olivia answered with a nod and a small smile. “I went to see The Weeknd a couple of months ago with my best friend. It was fun but. . .” She trailed off with a small shrug. “Coming back home was rough.”

Calum’s thick brows furrowed. “How come?”

Olivia’s eyes were trained on the photographs on the wall in front of them, taking in the familiar pictures of Claudia and Daniel’s family. Something in her heart tugged, remembering all of the pictures she took with her sister and parents before everything went to shit, and a ghost of a sad smile tilted her lips. “I don’t really like being away from Alana for too long. Your grandparents watched her while I went but I wanted to get back as soon as the show was over. Except showing up at their doorstep at four in the morning seemed like a dick move.”

She chuckled nervously—why did talking to Calum make her nervous?—as she thought of that night a few months ago. The concert had ended around half past midnight and she and Addy had driven to Charlotte for it. Addy was exhausted and wanted to stay at a motel for the night, even though Olivia wanted to get home for Alana. But Addy reminded her that traffic would be awful, and by the time they’d get back to Bridgelake it’d be four in the morning. So Olivia reluctantly stayed in Charlotte, sending Alana a text that she’d see her in the morning. She hated leaving her sister for too long. Their parents were gone, and Olivia didn’t want Alana to feel any kind of loss again.

Honestly, Olivia panicked over the distance between her and Alana before giving her little sister a chance to.

Then Olivia wondered if Calum knew about her parents, knew if she was Alana’s legal guardian, and quickly explained in case he didn’t, “It’s just the two of us so, like, I’m not fond of leaving her that much.”

There. That was straightforward and to the point, right? She didn’t care if Calum asked about her parents, it was public knowledge, and while she was ashamed of her father’s actions and she missed her mom so fucking much, that topic of conversation wasn’t taboo. Sure as hell wasn’t for the people of Bridgelake.

But Calum didn’t ask, not when he already knew the answer. Not when he already knew Olivia’s mum was dead because of her father’s mistake and that she and her sister were practically social pariahs in this town. His jaw clenched at the thought, especially when he thought of the fourteen year old he could hear giggling in the living room with his grandparents. Neither of them deserved this.

For a strange moment, Calum wondered where Olivia worked, if her job provided enough for her and her sister. Calum was never one to hold down a job—why would he even need one, with how much money his family has?—and he wasn’t interested in much. His parents—despite sending him across the country for his behavior—weren’t hard asses and didn’t expect Calum or his sister to take over the family business someday, so he didn’t have to worry over that.  He used to play soccer in high school until that merely became a hobby and something he was good at, and was admittedly interested in music. Both in writing and producing it, and in that moment he cursed himself for not bringing his guitar or bass with him to North Carolina. Maybe he could ask his parents to send it over.  

But money had never been an issue for Calum, and when he recalled the portion of the conversation between Olivia and his grandmother he heard at the shelter the other day, of her not being able to afford something for Alana, Calum felt a stab of sympathy. He never had to worry about not being able to afford something.

“Dinner’s ready, everyone!” His grandmother’s voice sounded throughout the house, and soon enough everyone was gathered in the dining room.

Gramps at the head, Olivia and Alana on one side and Calum sitting across from Olivia next to his grandmother on the other. The aroma of the food was delicious, effectively watering Calum’s mouth at the side of the pasta, rice, chicken and salad his grandmother had made. The first bite was as amazing as he figured.

Dinner conversation began almost immediately. “So, Livvy, how’s the boutique going?” Gramps questioned, causing Calum’s gaze to flicker up. Livvy? Were his grandparents really that close with Olivia and Alana?

“Pretty good,” Olivia answered with a smile. Guess that answered his pondering of her job. “We’re actually looking to expand, probably buying Mr. Bernard’s space next door.”

Gramps hummed in appraise and Calum watched as Alana nudged her sister. “Tell them about your promotion.”

Grams’ eyebrows raised at that. “Promotion?” she perked up, an excited glint in her eyes.

Olivia rolled her eyes, shooting Alana a look. “It’s just a rumor right now,” she told Calum’s grandparents with a small chuckle. “Apparently Val’s firing Heather and I’m the next choice for manager.” Calum noticed the way his grandparents both looked pleasantly surprised at this news as Olivia quickly emphasized, “But nothing’s been said yet. They’re just rumors, so I don’t know.”

She looked and sounded modest, as if she didn’t really believe that those rumors she was speaking of were true and that she would get the job. But Calum hadn’t missed the hopeful tone in her voice, and apparently neither had his grandfather as he scoffed, waving his fork. “Not promoting you would be a mistake on their part. You’re their hardest working employee and you, my dear, deserve it.”

Olivia rolled her lips into her mouth, though she was unsuccessful in hiding the smile as she dropped her gaze to her plate, cheeks pinkening. One glance at his grandparents and Calum knew they believed what Gramps said wholeheartedly, and Calum understood in that moment, answering his own question from seconds prior, that his grandparents’ relationship with the two sisters sitting across from him was a lot deeper than he figured. Grams and Gramps treated them the same way they treated him, and Calum instantly realized that they saw the two girls as family.

His gaze flickered to Olivia, saw the easy smile on her face as she conversed with his grandparents, and felt his own lips curl upwards a bit.

He hoped she would get that promotion.

                                               ✩✩✩✩✩

Sunday mornings consisted of Olivia waking up just around sunrise, freshening up, changing into her work out clothes and leaving the apartment. Alana was sound asleep, wouldn’t be up until noon, so Olivia walked the short distance to the nearby park where she did her Sunday morning jogs. With music playing in her ears, she began jogging on the path, the area empty as usual, just as she liked it. It was a cool morning for June, thanks to the beach just a few miles away, and the thin layer of sweat on the back of Olivia’s neck by the time she completed three laps was a bit chilling.

Olivia slowed to a stop to catch her breath, heart pounding in her chest as she took a few long gulps from her water bottle, the cool liquid thoroughly rejuvenating her dry throat. She squinted slightly, looking off in the distance; less than a handful of people were on their morning runs as well, some of them familiar to Olivia because of their similar routine.

Reaching to pull her phone out from the pocket of her thin hoodie, Olivia let out a small grunt of annoyance at the tangled headphones. Pausing the music, she pulled them out to begin the tedious process of untangling them, giving her a chance to hear a familiar voice call, “Bruno, slow down, bud!”

Before Olivia could even hope to register the voice, a familiar German Shepherd came running up to her, prompting Olivia to let out a startled gasp before she giggled joyously at the dog licking at her chin, his front paws on her chest to keep himself up as he showed her some love.

“Hi, buddy,” Olivia greeted Claudia and Daniel’s dog, fingers of her right hand tangled around her headphones while her left rubbed at Bruno’s face. “Whatcha doing out and about?”

This was the first time she’d ever seen him out at this time, but her question was soon answered as someone jogged up to them and that same familiar voice breathed out, “Sorry about him.” Olivia glanced away from Bruno, eyes landing on Calum standing right in front of them, wearing black athletic shorts and a green hoodie covering his large frame. “Didn’t expect him to run off like that.”

Olivia laughed lightly as Bruno got off her chest, circling between her and Calum’s feet before settling on the ground, peering up at them with dark eyes. She smiled at him before looking at Calum, taking in the way a few curls peeked out from under the black beanie he wore. “It’s okay,” she assured. “I’m never opposed to Bruno’s kisses.”

Calum chuckled, sliding the beanie down a bit at the back of his head. His eyes took in Olivia’s face as she smiled down at Bruno; her ponytail high and tight with few tendrils slipping out to frame her heart shaped face, cheeks slightly flushed pink from her running and face free of makeup. He would be lying if he said she didn’t look unadulteratedly pretty like this.

“So you took one of my options into consideration, hmm?” Olivia hummed, a smile tilting at her lips as Calum raised his eyebrows. “Looks like you found something to do here.”

Realization dawned on Calum as he let out a short laugh, remembering the dinner the other night when Olivia had listed off a bunch of things he could do in Bridgelake—going to the park being one of them. And she’d been right; Calum had woken up early this morning, annoyed that his eyes opened right when the sun was rising, and out of nowhere he remembered Olivia mentioning a bunch of parks around. So he brought Bruno to the nearest park and here they were—running into the very woman who practically motivated Calum out of the house.

“I did,” Calum conceded with a nod, the smile easily remaining on his face. It seemed almost effortless, to relax in front of Olivia. She seemed so open, so comforting; Calum found himself forgetting that he didn’t want to be in this town, that he was forced here, when she was there. Which was kind of head spinning and bewildering, but Calum didn’t seem to mind. “It helps that I’ve got good company,” he added one hand reaching down to rub at Bruno’s head.

“See?” Olivia smiled, tightening her ponytail. “How often did you get to do this in Los Angeles, huh?”

Not often, Calum realized. He preferred going to the gym he’d been a member of for years, because while he didn’t mind going on a hike every now and then, Calum found himself feeling more relaxed in a weight room than he did out on a jog in a park. Especially because there were often times where the paparazzi would spot him and while getting his picture taken outside of a club was one thing, Calum wasn’t fond of being photographed while he was going for a jog. So he didn’t.

“L.A. isn’t as bad as you think, you know,” Calum found himself saying, feeling strangely, or not so strangely, defensive of his hometown, his favorite place.

Olivia raised her eyebrows, not deaf to the protective lilt his voice took. “I never said it was bad,” she countered lightly with a slight tilt to her head. “I’m just saying—there’s probably things you could do or find here that you wouldn’t be able to in a big city like L.A.”

Calum couldn’t help himself. He let out a droll snort, rolling his eyes at Olivia’s words because he was having a hard time believing her. “Yeah? Like what?” he challenged, his slight accent lifting the last word a bit.

The attitude that he presented when she first ran into him at Walmart was shining through, Olivia noticed. Like being in Bridgelake was the worst possible thing that could happen to him, and she had foolishly hoped that he would no longer feel that way anymore. It’s been, what, two weeks since he’s been here? Shouldn’t he start warming up to the idea of having to be here for a couple of months? Olivia didn’t see what the big deal was, but she wasn’t one to be vocal about it.

So Olivia shrugged, hands on her hips. “Maybe if you got out of the house more, you’d see what a small town has to offer.” Then, with an almost conspiratorial grin, she added almost teasingly, “They can have just as much magic as your big cities, you know.”

But Calum wasn’t buying it as his chin lifted a bit. “I doubt it.”

“What’s the harm in trying to find out?” Olivia hummed with a single shake of her head, raising an eyebrow, not entirely deterred by his skepticism. “You’re stuck here, whether you like it or not, right? Why don’t you try to make the most of it without whining over L.A.?”

Calum’s eyebrows shot up, lips parting as he scoffed. “Excuse me?” he returned, unsure if he’d heard her right. Her tone wasn’t unkind but it most definitely made him sound like a brat, and Calum didn’t appreciate that. He crossed his arms over his chest defensively. “I don’t whine.”

He was getting worked up, Olivia could tell, and while she wasn’t one to purposefully push people’s buttons, she would be lying if she said it wasn’t amusing seeing Calum get all tensed over something so mundane. “You look like you do,” Olivia retorted. “It’s obvious you don’t want to be here. Do you ever think about how that might make Claudia and Daniel feel?”

She touched a nerve, she knew, when she saw Calum’s face tighten and jaw clench, and she’d be intimidated if it weren’t for the fact that she’s been facing people’s angered, near disgusted expressions thrown towards her for years. And while she hadn’t really meant to annoy Calum, Olivia didn’t recoil from his scowl. She was used it. After a while, you just become immune to others’ distaste of you.

Truthfully, Olivia was a bit disappointed Calum was one of those people who gave her that look, even if it wasn’t for the same reason. Somehow a stranger looking at her that way stung more than it did when people she grew up in town did it to her. But she didn’t let it show. She was good at that.

“My grandparents have nothin’ to do with this,” Calum stated firmly, the way his arms crossed over his chest combined with his hoodie making him appear bigger than usual. “I’m happy to be with them.”

“You’re not very good at showing that.”

Calum scowled, unafraid of showing his irritation. He liked Olivia, thought she was sweet and kind and undeserving of whatever treatment people in this town may give her. But who the hell was she to say something like that to him? To just assume he wasn’t glad to see his grandparents? Bridgelake wasn’t his ideal vacation spot, sure, but being with his grandparents was definitely a plus point. So what if Calum wished they were together in Los Angeles rather than North Carolina? It was just a matter of preference.

He tilted his head, almost mockingly, asking with a sarcastic tint in his voice, “Then what d’you reckon I do?”

“Be appreciative of what’s around you,” Olivia answered simply because, to her, it really was simple. She’s faced enough loss in her life, dealt with too many people’s shit for too long to not be happy for what she does have. She misses her mom every day, hopes to keep her memory alive for her sister, and her cheeks often hurt from the forced smile she shoots towards those who are blatantly rude to her. But for Olivia, it always comes down to being grateful for what she has in front of her.

Honestly, things could’ve gone to even more shit than they already were with their mom dying and dad being imprisoned. Olivia could’ve shut down. But she had a younger sister to look after, one who she was solely responsible for, and Olivia wasn’t about to let anything or anyone tear them apart after the losses of their parents. She was grateful for still having Alana, and while living in a world where their mom wasn’t around and their dad was in prison and half the town hated them for what he did, Olivia was glad she was still around. Glad she still had her sister, her best friend, and people who still cared for them.

Upon hearing her words, Calum blinked, face relaxing and tension in his shoulders easing somewhat. He watched as Olivia squinted slightly, the early morning sunlight filtering through the trees and bathing her in a golden glow, blue eyes glinting against the light, giving her irises an almost golden sparkle of their own. And even though Calum was bothered with her insinuation that he didn’t like being around his grandparents, he couldn’t help but think how pretty she looked in the morning sunlight.

“I’m not saying you don’t enjoy your grandparents’ company,” Olivia spoke up once more, as if reading his thoughts. Or, well, part of his thoughts as her blue eyes locked with his brown. “I’m just saying. . . I’ve seen you out with them a few times already and each time you look miserable. And, like, I get it—Bridgelake is no L.A., but you can have just as much of a good time here as you can there. If you give it a shot, that is.”

There was logic behind her words, Calum knew. He also was aware that every time he ventured out with his grandparents, he wasn’t the most willing participant. Being with them was something Calum was up for, but every time he stepped out of the house he was struck with the fact he wasn’t in California and Calum could physically feel his body slump at the reminder. The city boy in him was probably never going to get used to the small town aesthetic Bridgelake wreaked of.

Still, Calum lifted his chin a little, arms still crossed over his chest as he defiantly told the blue eyed girl, “Show me.”

Olivia blinked, bewilderment flickering across her features with furrowed brows and confusedly pouty lips. “What?”

Calum’s gaze briefly glanced at her mouth, pink and inviting, before he averted it half a second later. It wasn’t the appropriate time—or thought?—but Calum couldn’t help but think how unfair it was that Olivia had such inviting lips and he couldn’t kiss them. He quickly refocused on his thoughts as he met her confused stare with a challenging one. “Show me how to have a good time in Bridgelake,” he dared with a shrug of his shoulders. “It’s not gonna happen being by myself. I need someone to keep me company.” Then, with a boyish smirk, Calum teasingly clarified, “I need someone to show me the magic of Bridgelake.”

Her lips parted at his words, not entirely expecting Calum to request—or demand, she wasn’t entirely sure about that—her to show him around. Olivia certainly remembered listing off a bunch of things for him to do in Bridgelake, but she didn’t think he’d want her to come along with him.

Gazing at Calum, Olivia’s throat worked as she saw the quirk of his brow and tilt of his lips. He looked both smug and challenging, and Olivia felt her cheeks heat up against his stare. A person should not have that much of an effect on another human being just by the way they were looking at them.

But still. . . Olivia lifted her own chin slightly, regarding Calum for a moment before finally agreeing, “Alright.” Both of Calum’s eyebrows shot up. Had he not expected her to agree easily? This time, Olivia offered an easy smile. “Are you free tonight?”

Calum scoffed through the smirk dancing on his lips. “What do you think?” he asked, sarcasm tinting his slightly accented tone. As if he had any other plans here.

Olivia’s heart thumped in her chest. “Then tonight it is.”

                                           ✩✩✩✩✩

“It’s a date.”

“It’s not a date.”

“Alana’s right; it’s totally a date.”

Olivia shot an exasperated look towards her best friend and younger sister, who were both sat giggling on Olivia’s bed as if they were a bunch of middle schoolers. Well, Alana was, at least. But both Alana and Addy were teasing Olivia the entire time she got ready for her outing with Calum which was not a date, like the two of them were so convinced it was. And them constantly calling it a date didn’t do anything to ease the nerves swimming in her belly.

It was just a habit of Olivia’s, getting a bit nervous around boys, and it most certainly didn’t help that Calum was most definitely not the average boy she’d see around Bridgelake. He was the epitome of the tall, dark and handsome package and while Olivia found it dumb that she had the potential of getting anxious around someone that good looking, she couldn’t help it. Especially because the point of this night was to prove to Calum that he could have some fun in a small town, and Olivia hoped what she had picked out was going to be enough to at least start pushing him in the direction of seeing Bridgelake in a positive light. Not just as a prison.

“Stop calling it that,” Olivia huffed as she put her lipstick in her bag. She hadn’t done her makeup too heavily, and her outfit consisted of a baby blue romper and a denim jacket in case it got cold. “People only go on dates if they’re interested in each other—which we’re not.”

Addy scoffed with a roll of her eyes, dismissing what she considered Olivia’s negativity. “You never know,” she argued, leaning back against the headboard with her legs stretched out in front of her. With a comically suggestive wiggle of her eyebrows, she added, “Maybe he’ll find the magic of Bridgelake in you.”

Olivia didn’t know whether to cringe at Addy’s words or shoot her a glare because she knew her best friend most definitely did not mean that in an innocent way, and while Alana wasn’t a baby, the mere topic of her own sex life in front of her sister wasn’t something she was too comfortable with.

Thankfully, Alana swooped in as she shot Addy a distasteful look. “You sound like a crappy Hallmark card.”

Addy shoved Alana as Olivia let out a laugh, wholeheartedly agreeing with the fourteen year old. Looking back at the older brunette, Addy asked, “Where are you guys going, anyway?”

“The Orbit,” Olivia answered, brushing the ends of her hair as she stood at the foot of the bed, facing the two sitting on it.

Alana sat up excitedly. “That’s cool. What play are they putting on?”

“West Side Story,” Olivia replied with an unamused snort, because the play of choice wasn’t too surprising. Every summer, putting on West Side Story was a must. The Orbit was an outdoor theater, where anyone interested could sign up to put on a play or act in it throughout the summer. They were all really good, in Olivia’s opinion, since she’d been going since she was a kid. She particularly enjoyed the town’s adaptation of Mamma Mia! which has been her favorite musical for as long as she could remember.

“What if Calum doesn’t like plays?” Addy asked as Olivia put the brush away.

Olivia paused for a moment. She’d thought of that, but she had told him she would show him how to enjoy the small town things, and the plays The Orbit put on always brought a smile to Olivia’s face. She hoped it would do the same for Calum. She shrugged. “He’s just gonna have to suck it up.”

But, really. Olivia hoped he liked plays. Or this could already start off bitterly.

                                                ✩✩✩✩✩

Once he pulled his grandfather’s truck into a vacant parking spot, Calum killed the engine before hopping out of the vehicle. He closed the door behind him, furrowed brows looking ahead and around him as he took in his surroundings, turning to lock the car. Slowly, almost unsure, Calum walked over the curb and towards the area where he saw most of the other people around headed towards. There was an entrance where Calum noticed people behind booths were sitting, and he realized it’s where tickets were being sold and bought as a line of people gathered there before moving on to the few steps that led down to where they could be seated.

He shoved his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket, the gravel and road crunching under his boots as he slowly made his way over, unsure of where he was supposed to go. Calum’s dark eyes gazed around in hopes of finding the woman he was meant to meet, passing over the few curious looks being thrown his way. It definitely was a small town by the way some people were looking at him, unsure of who the hell he was.

Meanwhile, Calum was left wondering where the hell Olivia was. He obviously didn’t know about this place when she texted him, and so he had asked Grams, who had told him that The Orbit was one of the more popular locations in Bridgelake. She told him of the plays that were put on here, and Calum wasn’t going to lie—he was kind of interested. He didn’t go to any plays in California, only less than a handful of times when he went to New York to visit his sister, but those were Broadway productions.

He highly doubted he’d see the same level of sophistication at some outdoor theater in Bridgelake, North Carolina.

“See—that’s the face I was talking about.”

Calum blinked, looking around before his gaze went to the left where he saw Olivia approaching him. Immediately he took her in, her blue outfit and loose hair and killer legs before her words registered and he frowned in confusion. “What face?”

Olivia scoffed as she reached him, shaking her head a slightly to move away some locks of hair. “The I’d rather be anywhere but here face,” she countered with a knowing quirk of an eyebrow, as if she could read him easily. Calum bristled. She didn’t have to be so smug about it.

“I’m not wearing that face,” he defended, pursing his lips because even he could hear the bullshit in his voice. Honestly, he hadn’t meant to look like that; he may never have been to something like this, but Calum did find himself wanting to be here with Olivia. It was nice of her to hang out with him—she was a nice girl—and the least he could do was not look like he didn’t want to be here with her. He didn’t want to send that kind of message. “Just—” he huffed before glancing around and asking, “What’re we watching?”

Olivia pulled something out of her purse, Calum’s eyes catching sight of two tickets as she smiled. “West Side Story. Hope you like Romeo & Juliet adaptations,” she hummed while walking past Calum.

He had no choice but to follow after her, his long legs allowing him to easily catch up to her in two strides before falling in her pace, hands still in the pockets of his jacket. As they stood in the line to show their tickets, Calum asked, “How’d you get tickets so quickly?” They’d only been talking this morning.

Olivia shrugged. “I know a guy,” she answered vaguely before biting her tongue. She almost added on, Not everyone in this town hates me, but stopped herself. This was most definitely not the time or place to be self pitying.

Calum quirked an eyebrow, finding her words strangely amusing as the line moved up. “That sounds suspect,” he pointed out, peering down at her with the smallest of smirks tilting at his lips.

She let out a light laugh as she looked up from the tickets, the lights around The Orbit making her blue eyes glitter. The line moved quickly, and as one of the guys working there scanned their tickets, Calum asked, “Do you come here a lot?”

“Whenever there’s a play I really wanna watch,” Olivia answered with a nod as they moved forward. The seats, Calum realized, was that similar to stadium seating, and before they moved to find theirs Olivia glanced at him. “Do you want anything to eat or drink?” she questioned, jutting her chin to something behind him.

Calum glanced over his shoulder, just then catching sight of a small canteen where people were gathered if they weren’t already in their seats. It wasn’t too far, and Calum’s eyes took in one of the signs pasted on it and his eyebrows rose. “They’ve got milkshakes?”

“Mhm,” Olivia hummed with a smile, and not for the first time did Calum notice the way her prominent cheekbones rose at the action. “What flavor do you want? You can get to our seats and I’ll get them.”

“Chocola—wait, no—” Calum frowned. “You got the tickets, the least I can do is get the food.” He knew this was both of their idea, in some way, and if Olivia bought the tickets then it was only fair he spend some of his own money on something.

But Olivia shook her head, her smile turning teasing as she took a step away. “My town, my treat,” she grinned. “Our seats are seven and eight in row eleven. Towards the bottom,” Olivia added, nodding down the steps before swiftly turning around and making her way towards the canteen.

Calum’s lips parted to protest, but she was gone in the growing crowd and he let out a breath. Pressing his lips together, Calum absently made a mental note that next time it would be coming out of his pocket—assuming there was going to be a next time—before proceeding to make his way down the concrete steps.

It wasn’t that big, unsurprisingly. Calum was pretty sure there were more seats on his high school football field back in California. He walked down the steps, looking at the numbers of the rows on the ground, ignoring the few looks he could be felt getting thrown his way. It helped that he was used to being stared at, though he knew that this time it was different. Eyes weren’t following him because he was the son of David Hood; they were on him because he was a stranger in this town, an unfamiliar face amongst those who’ve grown up together.

But it didn’t phase Calum. He found their seats, shuffling past those already seated before plopping down in the seventh seat, the one to his right available for Olivia. Rubbing his hands down his pants, Calum noticed they had a good view of the stage up front, almost in the middle, curtains drawn as people continued to find their seats. Glancing up at the sky, Calum noticed it was mostly clear, just a few clouds drifting here and there and hiding the stars that glittered above, and he let out a sigh as he leaned back in the seat.

He busied himself by texting his friends, all of whom told him both that they missed him and jokingly added they liked not seeing his face every day, and Calum smirked to himself. He missed them, too.

Soon enough, Olivia made her way over and Calum glanced at her, catching sight of the two plastic cups of milkshake she held as she walked over. She caught his eye, offering a smile that Calum found himself returning almost instinctively, sitting up as she came over. But his eyes drifted as she shuffled down the narrow aisle, landing on the few people, mostly middle aged women, sitting a few seats away to Calum’s right, their narrowed eyes following Olivia as she made her way past them.

His eyebrows twitched into a frown, watching as the women looked at Olivia while they whispered amongst themselves, reminding Calum of a bunch of high school gossipers and his lips curled into a sneer. It was obvious they were talking about Olivia, obvious that whatever they saying couldn’t be good, and Calum was about two seconds away from standing up and asking them what the fuck they were saying.

But then Olivia reached him, the easy smile still on her face as she held out one of the cups. Calum’s dark eyes left the women, who were now looking at both of the with raised eyebrows, probably wondering what he was doing with Olivia or she with him or what the fuck ever, and he looked up at the blue eyed girl. He took the cup from her instantly, taking in the pink in her cheeks, wondering why she was flushed, as she sat down.

“Thanks,” Calum told her, taking a sip of the chocolate milkshake. It was really fucking good.

“No problem,” Olivia answered nonchalantly, almost too casually, as she fixed her bag on her lap, gaze straight ahead purposefully.

Don’t look. Don’t give them the satisfaction. But she couldn’t help herself. Olivia glanced to the right, eyes landing on the same women Calum noticed, pulling her lower lip into her mouth as they looked away just when they saw her looking. How fucking hard was it not to be so ridiculously obvious you were talking about someone just a few feet away? Olivia inhaled deeply yet quietly. Calum only noticed because he’d been staring at Olivia unashamedly, and his jaw tightened when he saw her glance down at her lap, lips pursed.

He wanted to say something; tell her that people were assholes and that she shouldn’t have to deal with them. But Calum wasn’t sure if Olivia knew that he knew of how some people in Bridgelake treated her, if she wanted him to know the whole story about her parents and the town even though he already did. How was he supposed to comfort her over something he wasn’t even sure he was supposed to know?

“D’you know any of the people starring in this?” Maybe he could opt to distract her instead.

Olivia glanced at him before looking back at the stage. “A few,” she answered with a nod. “A girl I went to high school with, Raechel, plays Maria and my best friend’s cousin, Barry, plays Riff.”

Calum blinked at her, before his lips curled into a smirk and he raised an eyebrow. “You realize I’ve no idea who any of those characters are, right?”

She returned his gaze, shorter than him and an arm rest separating them yet their shoulders brushed every so often. Olivia let out a laugh, the sound widening Calum’s grin, as she picked up her milkshake. “I’ll point them out, don’t worry,” she assured.

“And explain to me what’s going on?” Olivia shot him an exasperated yet playful look and Calum shrugged defensively. “What? I’ve never seen this before.”

“If you ask me questions every two minutes I’m going to dump your milkshake on you. I promise.”

Calum clicked his tongue, shooting her a mocking disapproving look. “I don’t think that’s gonna help you show me how fun Bridgelake is.”

Olivia sank in her chair as she caught his smirk widening, her cheeks flushing at the sight of it as she pressed her lips together to suppress the growing smile. Calum wasn’t aware of it, but Olivia was grateful that he managed to distract her from the eyes she could feel piercing her skin. She glanced at him, watching as his lips wrapped around the straw as he drank his milkshake, and Olivia forced herself to look away as the heat in her cheeks intensified.

She took a deep breath, sipping her own milkshake. Fun. Right.

                                                 ✩✩✩✩✩

Olivia was trying to fight off the smile from growing on her face as she raised her eyebrows at Calum, who was staring out the window as he sat across from her, fingers tapping the tabletop as his head nodded to the song he was humming. The play had just ended and the two of them were at a nearby diner for a late dinner, and Calum was shamelessly humming the tune of I Feel Pretty after having just heard it at the show they attended.

Much to her relief, Calum seemed to enjoy the play a lot, his eyes following every character on the stage with focused interest and head bopping to the songs being performed, curls lightly bouncing at the movement. And now as they waited for their food, Calum still had that song playing in his head and while satisfaction coursed through Olivia’s veins, the fond smile won over as it graced her lips, gazing at the man sat across from her in the booth.

He looked her way then, taking note of her raised eyebrows and curled lips, and Calum was suddenly aware of what he was doing as he instantly stopped humming and leaned back in the booth. “It’s a catchy song,” he half-heartedly defended, uncharacteristically feeling his face warm at the look Olivia was giving him.

“I know,” she laughed lightly, the bright lights of the diner dancing against her blue eyes. Olivia leaned forward, arms folding on top of the table as she asked, “I’m guessing you liked the play, then?”

“You can say that,” Calum responded, willing himself not to be embarrassed because, really, there was nothing to be embarrassed about. Honestly, he really did enjoy the play, and the performance put on by everyone was amazing. Bridgelake, Calum concluded once the show was over, had some pretty talented people. “Thank you for bringing me to see it,” he found himself adding sincerely, the corners of his lips tilting upwards.

Olivia’s head tilted slightly, her smile widening at the sincerity in his tone, utterly contrasting the indifferent yet bored expression she often saw him wear. “You’re welcome,” she said just as the waitress returned with their food.

Calum’s burger and fries were placed in front of him while Olivia’s grilled chicken sandwich and curly fries instantly watered her mouth, and the two of them dug into their food while the Top 40 songs played throughout the semi busy diner. Things fell quiet between them for a few moments, though it wasn’t an uncomfortable one as they enjoyed their food and, Calum had to admit—his burger was one of the best he’s had.

As he took a bite of his fries, Olivia couldn’t help but muse, “How can you pick regular fries over curly ones?”

Calum paused in his chewing, holding the uneaten halves of his fries as his gaze snapped towards her. When he saw the unimpressed raise of her brows and the small smirk on her lips, Calum let out a short laugh. “Are you judging me on my choice of fries?”

Olivia gave an unapologetic shrug of her shoulders. “I don’t trust anyone who picks regular fries when they have the option of getting curly ones.”

Amusement danced in Calum’s dark eyes as his lips formed an O and he released a mocking offended breath. “Now you’re just hurtin’ my feelings.”

She laughed before taking a sip of her drink, and Olivia couldn’t help but think how easy this felt. Her nerves had been prickling under her skin when she’d been driving over to The Orbit, over thinking if Calum would want to watch a play or if he’d enjoy it, but they had fun. Admittedly, Olivia had kept glancing over at Calum, taking in his reactions to what was happening on stage, and each time she was relieved to see that he looked so into it.

But her grin soon diminished as the door of the diner opened and in walked the three women that had been sitting in their row at The Orbit, the same women who’d been unashamedly been whispering about Olivia when they saw her. She knew of them—Mrs. Dixit, Mrs. Shaw, and Mrs. Rizzo—and was painfully aware that they were just three of many people who weren’t fond of her. So Olivia’s smile vanished as she drank her soda, watching as the women were seated at a table in the middle of the diner a little ways beside them, where she had a perfect view of them and they had one of her.

As per usual, Olivia did her best to pay them no mind, ignoring the looks she could feel them throwing her way every now and then as she ate her dinner and made light, easy conversation with Calum.

And she thought things were going fine, would be fine, until Mrs. Dixit’s voice consisting of a fading Indian accent flowed over. “I heard they’re replacing that poor Heather with her. They’re risky, aren’t they, for hiring her in the first place? Now they’re making her manager?”

Mrs. Rizzo scoffed distastefully. “They’ve lost my business.”

“I stopped going there the day they hired the Moore girl.” Olivia winced at Mrs. Shaw’s haughty tone, eyes casting towards her nearly finished plate, hoping Calum hadn’t noticed the rigidness in her shoulders. Of course he had; she just missed the way his eyes darted in the direction of the women after Olivia broke their gaze.

His eyebrows twitched into a frown, not oblivious to the discomfort Olivia didn’t succeed in hiding as he looked at the three middle aged women. It was kind of ridiculous, how a couple of women their age were so openly and unashamedly talking about Olivia as if she wasn’t even there, not at all perturbed by the fact that she could hear them. They were doing it because she could hear them, Calum figured, and his grip on his glass tightened, rings slightly scraping against it. How pathetic were they to talk about someone younger than them, as if they were a bunch of teenagers in high school taking part in cafeteria gossip?

Olivia glanced up at the sound, eyes going from Calum’s tight grasp on his glass to his face, mildly taken aback at the glare she saw on his face directed towards the women a few tables over. She hadn’t expected him to look so annoyed, eyebrows scrunched into a scowl. “Calum—”

“Why’re you just lettin’ them talk about you like that?” He spoke up at the same time, the muscle in his jaw jumping as he finally looked back at Olivia once more. The irritation in his dark eyes was surprising and, ironically, comforting. His brows were drawn downwards, shaking his head once. “Why don’t you just say somethin’?”

She stared at him for a moment, mouth drying at the curious yet confused look in his demanding eyes. Truthfully, Olivia hadn’t expected Calum to speak up about the women, didn’t think he cared enough to pay attention. Swallowing the dryness from her throat, Olivia answered, “It’s not worth it.”

Calum gaped at her, the irritation being completely replaced with bewilderment. Not worth it? Was she serious? “So you’re just. . .” His eyebrows twitched into a frown just like his lips. “You’re gonna let them disrespect you like that for no reason?”

Olivia inhaled sharply before surprising herself by blurting, “They have a reason.”

And then Calum surprised her even more by countering, “I know the reason. ’S not justified.”

Her eyes widened slightly, this time it was her turn to stare at him disbelief. He knew? What exactly did he know? Most of the town’s dislike for Olivia wasn’t news, it wasn’t a secret, but Calum wasn’t from here and she was hoping that everyone’s opinion of her wasn’t going to morph his opinion of her. It would’ve been refreshing to have someone new who didn’t judge her for someone else’s tragic mistake. “What do you—”

“Grams told me,” Calum confessed with a sigh, a familiar expression crossing his face, one Olivia knew too well. Sympathy. She suppressed a sigh of her own—she hadn’t wanted to see that on Calum’s face. But he leaned forward, arms crossed on the table as his gaze remained locked with hers. “And I agree with her; it isn’t right that you and your sister get judged for something you had no control over.”

Olivia’s lips parted at that, at the sincerity on his face emphasized by the determined frown on his face, like he wanted her to believe his words, shown in the emphasis each word he spoke carried. If Calum found out about Olivia’s family through his grandmother, then no doubt he got the real story rather than some twisted version she knew a bunch of people in this town would have no problem spewing. Some people were disgusting enough to contort the events of that night to say that her father purposefully killed those people in the accident. Yes, it was his fault for driving while he was drunk, something he should have never done, but the way some people spoke of it, it would be easy to assume by their words that it was premeditated. He had made an awful, horrific decision to drive under the influence, something even Olivia herself would never forgive him for, but had to endure the aftermath of.

Calum’s defense of her was kind of surprising, but Olivia was appreciative of it. They didn’t know each other too well and only knew about her situation through Claudia’s words, yet the look in his eyes was determined enough to show her that he was on her side. And Olivia felt her heart swell at that. Playing with her crumpled napkin, she kept her gaze on it as she quietly told him, “If I say anything back, they’re just going to be more annoyed and hate me more than they already do.” She hated that she let out a tired, defeated chuckle at that before shrugging. “Like I said—it’s not worth it.”

He didn’t understand as he took in her downcast blue eyes and the purse of her naturally pouty lips, staring at her with his own lips slightly parted. Calum was the kind of person who, if he ever heard someone talk badly about himself or his family or his friends, wouldn’t hesitate to go on the defense. He knew he couldn’t change everyone’s minds and opinions, but he could let them know he wasn’t going to take their shit.

It almost disturbed Calum that Olivia wasn’t willing to do that for herself.

The waitress came by to drop off their check and before Olivia could even think to reach for it, Calum swiped the small black folder right up. “Wait, no—it’s my treat,” Olivia argued, trying to reach for it from across the table.

Calum merely placed it on his lap, pulling out his wallet and placing the credit card inside the folder without even checking the bill. “You paid for the play and the milkshakes,” he pointed out, lips curling into a small smirk. “Least I can do is pay for dinner.”

She stared at him, lips pursed and bemused, but Calum merely smirked wider when the waitress returned for it and he handed it to her without breaking from Olivia’s gaze. Calum chuckled as he reassured, “Next time you can pay for the food.”

“Oh?” Olivia quirked an eyebrow, feeling some of her previous playfulness creep back as she tilted her head slightly. “So there’s gonna be a next time?”

Calum huffed out a laugh. “After tonight, you’re my official tour guide. I don’t have any other friends here to show me around Bridgelake.”

Both of them were smiling, teasing and maybe even a little bit flirty if Olivia squinted, enough to make her heart flutter because he had such a nice smile. Calum’s cheeks would push up and depending on how much he was smiling there would be crinkles by his eyes, only adding to the adorability of the expression. A much better look, a wonderful difference, than when he barely made any expressions when he first arrived.

“We’re friends now?” Olivia countered, enjoying the banter with a smile. She didn’t have that many friends, only Addy whom Olivia adored the company of and would never get tired of, but she had to admit—a new person’s company was always welcome. Especially when it was someone like Calum.

“Like it or not,” Calum shrugged before thanking the waitress once she brought back the folder so he could retrieve his credit card.

Olivia chuckled as she gathered her purse and the two of them stood up as Calum put the card back in his wallet and then dropped a twenty dollar bill on the table for tip, Olivia’s eyebrows shooting up at the sight because she knew the tip was almost as much as the actual bill. Damn. Glancing at Calum, she sarcastically mused, “I’m honored.”

Calum stood by his side of table so Olivia could walk past him towards the door, and as she did he joked, “I’m honored you’re honored,” earning another laugh from him as she shook her head and kept walking.

He smiled after her. Before following Olivia’s steps, Calum couldn’t help but glance over at the table a few feet away from him, occupied by the women seated there. Unsurprisingly, they were looking over this way, their judgmental gazes burning holes in Olivia’s back before simultaneously—creepily—their eyes shifted over to him. One of them offered a smile while the other two looked at him with expressions mixed with curiosity and coyness, the second not at all in regards to the obvious age difference between them. He was used to older women sending him those kinds of looks—he was from Los Angeles, after all.

And his mother raised him to be respectful of those older than him, and for the most part Calum was. But as soon as the three of the women looked at him, Calum couldn’t help the scowl he sent their way, triggered by the rude words and glares they sent Olivia’s way. They all immediately recoiled, almost affronted yet discouraged, and looked away from him, and the satisfied smirk tugged at Calum’s lips as he fixed his jacket and Olivia out of the diner. He wasn’t afraid to give those women that look if he saw them again.

Easily catching up to Olivia, they walked together in a comfortable silence towards the parking lot that was between The Orbit and the diner they were just at, the night breeze cool and inviting, and a fruity scent suddenly invaded Calum’s nose. He realized it must be Olivia’s shampoo or something, inhaling softly, subtly, because it just smelt so good.

They reached Olivia’s car since Calum silently decided to walk her to it, and as she unlocked the door she faced Calum. Before she could say anything, Calum shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket and said, “Thank you, Olivia,  for tonight.” The street lamp above made his dark eyes glimmer. “I really did have a good time.”

Olivia couldn’t fight the smile as she looked up at him. His curls swayed slightly in the mild breeze, the glow of the light above softening his features. “Enough to change your opinion of Bridgelake?” she asked with a tilt of her head. She knew it wasn’t going to take just a theater show to make Calum fall in love with Bridgelake or something, but she still wanted to get a feel of what he thought.

Calum let out a breathy chuckle, bowing his head as he did so, his curls brushing across his forehead before he lifted his head and smirked at Olivia. “Slowly,” he agreed and Olivia’s smile widened. “Might sound crazy to say but I kind of already prefer The Orbit than Broadway.”

Olivia’s jaw hung with a disbelieving scoff, staring at Calum incredulously before she waved him off. “Alright, psycho, I somehow doubt that,” she laughed, earning another laugh from Calum as he argued, “I’m serious!”

She shook her head in amusement as she stepped aside to open her car door. “Whatever you say, Mr. California,” she responded with a roll of her eyes, giggling at the bemused look he sent her way at the nickname.

“Drive safe, Olivia,” Calum chose to say instead of retorting, smiling fondly at the blue eyed girl.

Then, to her surprise, he pulled his left hand out of his pocket before pulling her in for a one armed hug, and Olivia’s eyes widened as her cheek was pressed against the cool leather of his jacket. But she relaxed in his embrace, in the mesmerizing scent of vanilla, leather and something that seemed like a wonderful mixture of wood and flowers as she returned the hug, unable to stop the smile from growing from her face. How fucking cute. “Goodnight, Calum,” she returned softly, before reluctantly pulling away from the tall man.

Calum smiled at her, stepping back to allow her to get in the car and as he shut the door behind her, Olivia let out a breath as she put her bag on the passenger seat and reached for the seatbelt. He stood by as she started the car, and Olivia sent him a smile and a wave as she pulled out of the parking spot, smile widening as he raised his hand in response.

Olivia couldn’t help but glance at her rearview mirror as she drove off, watching as Calum’s standing figure became smaller and smaller until she had to make a turn, and she let out yet another breath. The smile was still on her face, grip on the steering wheel tightening as the giddiness bubbled in her stomach, only intensifying when Calum’s I’d rather be anywhere but here face hadn’t made an appearance after she called him out for it at the start of the night. Not because he had been actively trying to keep it off his face, but because Olivia could tell he was genuinely enjoying himself, much to her fluttering excitement. She was definitely down to do this again.

                                                    ✩✩✩✩✩

Calum was more of a night owl than a morning person. He enjoyed staying up at night but he also appreciated his sleep, hating when the sun came up to start a new day. And he especially hated it in Bridgelake, when every other day there would be one neighbor or another of his grandparents’ who was mowing their lawn, the roar of the lawn mower jolting Calum out of his sleep practically every other day.

Safe to say, he started most days in a shitty mood.

Rolling out of bed reluctantly, Calum sat up and ran his fingers through his messy curls, a tired sigh escaping him before grunting as he stood up. Pulling on his sweatpants, Calum didn’t bother with a shirt as he used the bathroom before heading to the kitchen, the scent of eggs pulling him to where his grandparents already were. His grandfather sat reading the newspaper while eating his eggs, while his grandmother drank her tea and read whatever she was reading on her iPad.

“Morning, sleepy head,” Grams greeted, just like every other morning, as she smiled fondly at the sight of her sleep ridden grandson. “There’s coffee in the pot.”

Calum mumbled his thanks as he poured some for himself before sitting down next to his grandfather, across from his grandmother as he propped his elbows on the table and took a long sip of the steaming drink. He was quiet in the mornings, which wasn’t unusual, and drank his coffee and ate the pancakes that were left for him as a way of getting energy to brave the day.

Not that he had any plans.

He was still at the table when his grandparents got up to gather their things before walking back into the kitchen, frowning at them in confusion. It was Saturday and the pet shelter didn’t open for another few hours, and his grandfather didn’t have work either. But upon noticing Calum’s expression, his grandfather let out a chuckle. “We’re going for a friend’s birthday up in Wilmington. I told you about it a couple of days ago, bud.”

Calum blinked before his memory stuck, nodding as he recalled being told something like that. “We’ll probably be back around the late evening, so you’re on your own,” Grams teased as she picked up her purse and followed Gramps to the door. “Oh, by the way!” Calum glanced at her over his shoulder as his grandmother sweetly smiled at him. “Mind making a trip today to Olivia’s boutique? There’s some things I ordered that should be ready for pick up and the store’s going to be closed tomorrow. Make sure you go before closing at nine, alright?”

Then they were gone, before Calum could even offer up a response. He leaned back in the chair with a huff, eyes falling to Bruno, who sat on the floor staring up at him with dark eyes. Guess it was just him and his dog for the day.

                                                 ✩✩✩✩✩

It wasn’t until around noon did Calum leave the house and go to run his grandmother’s quick errand. He knew the name of the boutique and knew the name of the street it was on, so it wouldn’t be too hard to find it. Since his grandparents took his gramps’ truck, Calum was left with Grams’ station wagon, and it took him a minute to adjust the seat since his grandmother was significantly shorter and with the settings she had, Calum’s knees were practically up to his chin.

The drive wasn’t long—not that any drive from one location in Bridgelake to another was more than fifteen minutes—and Calum parked the car along the sidewalk before hopping out and pocketing the keys. Calum really hoped Olivia was at the store, but his grandmother had texted him that he could just ask anyone that he was there to pick up stuff for her.

He walked into the boutique called Moonflower, blinking at the store. Everything was split into color coordinated sections, each containing only clothes and accessories of specific colors, which Calum found kind of cool. A woman by the door chirped out a greeting and Calum shot her a quick smile before making his way towards the back where he could see was the register.

It was fairly busy in the store, women of all ages looking about and a few men here and there, and Calum was nearly to the front when he heard a familiar voice call, “Calum?”

He let out a sigh of relief when he caught sight of Olivia and her pretty blue eyes, shoulders sinking as she made her way over to him. She was dressed in dark blue jeans and a black blouse tucked in, complete with a small headset, and Calum was aware of the brief thought that flew by in his mind—a thought that couldn’t help but acknowledge how cute she looked in her uniform.

“Hey,” he greeted her, the smile coming to his face a lot more easily than he thought. “How’re you doin’, Olivia?”

He hadn’t seen her for a few days, since their outing the other night, but the two still texted. She was the only person, other than the boys back home, that Calum came to regularly texting, and he found himself really enjoying her company, whether it be in person or virtually. Olivia was one of the few people in Calum’s life that knew how to keep a conversation going, that was interested in what he had to say and Calum couldn’t help but return the sentiment.

“I’m good,” she smiled, blue eyes glinting under the bright lights of the store before she asked, “What brings you here?”

“Oh, uh, I’m here to pick up something for Grams?” he told her, his answer coming out as a question, wondering if Olivia could help him out. Hoping that she could. “She said she ordered some stuff and that I could just come by and pick it up for her.”

Realization dawned on Olivia as her lips parted. “Oh, yeah, right. Give me a second, yeah? I’ll go get it from the back.”

Calum nodded as Olivia walked around him, heading off to the back of the store as he lingered about. He looked around, noticing the store had practically everything that a boutique did, his eyes on a bunch of scarves and accessories. Calum’s fingers trailed over the soft fabric of the scarves and he looked at the designs for the cell phone cases, wondering if his mum or sister would want something of the sort. It got cold in London. Maybe he could buy a scarf for Mali.

As he waited, Calum’s eyes happened to trail over to a rack of socks, chuckling to himself at the designs on the unisex socks. His eyebrows raised as he caught sight of a pair of blue socks with dogs printed on them, with the furry animals wearing a beanie and glasses, and Calum found himself picking up a packet of those kind and grinning at them, finding them to be the most amusing and best things ever.

“Here you go.”

Calum jumped slightly, hastily putting the socks back on the rack as he turned around, catching sight of Olivia standing there with a Moonflower bag, missing the curious look that flashed across her face. “Oh,” he blinked before taking it from her, smiling as he added, “Thanks, Liv.”

The nickname just slipped out of his mouth, something she was commonly known by but not used by Calum, and for some reason he found himself strangely worrying if she would be okay with that. Some people were weird with nicknames like that.

But then he saw the soft smile on her face, one that even though it was subtle it still emphasized her cheekbones, and Calum couldn’t help but smile back, feeling his neck warm. Jeez—since when did he blush because of a girl? Olivia just smiled and Calum found himself wanting to smile back without pretense.

“So what’re your plans for today?” Olivia asked casually. She knew she should be getting back to work, especially with the promotion just about being handed to her, but walking away from Calum seemed so. . . Unappealing.

Calum raised his eyebrows, his smile turning into a smirk as he mused, “Why? Got another adventure planned?”

Olivia let out a laugh, a sound so pretty to Calum’s ears, enough to make his heart pick up a pace or two. “Depends on your answer.”

He chuckled before shrugging. “Nothing, as usual. Grams and Gramps are in Wilmington for the day and won’t be back ‘til late. So it’s just me.”

Olivia pouted her lips in thought, prompting Calum’s gaze to almost immediately flicker to her mouth, feeling his throat tighten at the sight of her pink lips. Get a fucking grip, man, he chided himself. “Wanna come over to my place for dinner?” Olivia asked, surprising Calum. “Alana and I order tons of food most Saturday nights and have movie marathons. You’re more than welcome to join.” She added with a grin, “It’s not as much of an adventure, but my sister and I are pretty good company.”

A rush of gratitude flooded Calum at that, and not for the first time since the night of seeing the play did Calum feel fortunate to have found a friend in Olivia. Sure, he still didn’t leave the house as much because she was busy with work and he had no one else to hang out with, except for when he took Bruno out on walks or accompanied his grandparents on errands, but Olivia was there, too. Maybe not physically, but they were texting whenever she could, since her schedule was a lot busier than Calum’s.

Maybe he should get a job.

Calum pushed back a snort. Not likely.

“Sure, if you and your sister don’t mind,” he found himself answering, smiling as Olivia’s grin widened.

“Not at all,” she grinned, her face lighting up with that smile of hers. “I’ll text you the address. Come by around, like, six or seven.”

He nodded and Olivia was bidding him goodbye since she had to go back to work, and Calum found himself leaving the boutique with a smile that only Olivia seemed to be able to bring out in him. And it was strange and maybe a little bit crazy, Calum knew, how one girl could somehow so easily change his attitude when he came to Bridgelake with one as moody and bad as his.

There was a little voice in the back of his head teasing him about Olivia’s words, about the magic of Bridgelake. That same voice was telling him maybe it was all Olivia. Calum pushed it away. He truly sounded crazy.

                                             ✩✩✩✩✩

“Oi! What happened to you promising me the last breadstick?”

Alana grinned unapologetically after swallowing the smaller piece of cheesy bread whole, shrugging innocently at Calum as she hummed, “You snooze, you lose.”

“You can’t trust her around your food, Calum,” Olivia said as she wandered back into the living room, a bottle of beer in each hand before handing one to Calum and settling down next to him on the couch. “She’ll steal it right off your plate. Sometimes even off your spoon.”

Calum shook his head in amusement, his grin widening when Alana snickered from where she sat on the floor. The younger girl then grabbed the TV remote, switching over to Netflix so they could find the first movie of the night they were going to watch. Calum had been over for about an hour now and their food had arrived from the local pizza place around twenty minutes ago, and they already finished all the cheesy bread before even picking the first movie.

He felt immediately at home in Olivia’s apartment, big enough for her and her sister with a joint yet open living room and kitchen space with a hallway leading down to where the girls’ bedrooms were. There were many pictures around the house of the girls with their family, and Calum had felt his heart tug in his chest at the smiling pictures of Olivia and Alana with their parents. He couldn’t imagine how they lived with a dead mother and imprisoned father, and with the smiles he’d seen on their faces so far already, he never would’ve guessed the girls had been through hell.

And with the horrendous way some people in this town treated them with, how they still went through with it with smiles.

He took a sip of his beer, sitting tucked in the corner of the three seater couch, right arm on the arm rest and left draped over the back of the couch, when Alana turned her head around to shoot her sister a wicked smirk. “You know what tonight’s theme is, don’t you, Livvy?”

Calum glanced at the older girl, catching the wary expression cross her face. “No. . . What?” Olivia asked hesitantly, her gaze flickering back to the screen and Calum saw the way her face fell. He followed her gaze, saw that Alana had stopped at the horror/thriller section of Netflix, and heard Olivia let out a groan. “Can we not, please?”

“Nope,” Alana happily chirped, scrolling through the options.

Calum quirked an eyebrow at Olivia, whose shoulders had sunk and face fell, and she saw him looking at her as she huffed. “I hate horror films.”

He smirked, amused. “Never would’ve guessed,” he responded, sarcasm tickling his voice as Olivia rolled her blue eyes and muttered for him to shut up.

“Oh, wait, I know!” Alana suddenly yelled, making the other two jump in surprise as the fourteen year old got to her feet. “Oh, my God I know exactly what we can watch!”

She ran off down the hall, bare feet thudding against the floor as Calum and Olivia stared after her with raised eyebrows until Olivia sighed, “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

“I’m sure it won’t be too bad,” Calum assured her, laughing into his beer bottle when the blue eyed girl shot him a deadpanned look. Then, cheekily, Calum shot her a wink as he said, “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”

Olivia’s cheeks heated up at his playful words, unsuccessfully hiding her smile in her own bottle as she took a sip, and Calum could tell because he saw the way her cheeks turned up. He felt almost satisfied, knowing he could make her blush.

Alana ran back into the room and without saying anything to either of them, went up to the TV and turned on the DVD player before putting in whatever movie she brought from her room. Olivia and Calum watched, the former a lot more apprehensive than the latter, as Alana switched the channels, and Olivia let out a groan when the words Sinister appeared on the TV.

“Oh, my God—I’m going to die,” Olivia breathed, her eyes wide. She knew of this movie, had seen the trailer for it when Alana played it for her when she was trying to convince her sister to buy it for her. Unlike Olivia, Alana loved scary films. Whether they were trashy, melodramatic horror or full-fledged horror films that left people having nightmares. And just how Alana loved them, Olivia didn’t see any difference in any of them—they all scared her.

Olivia only bought her sister the movie because she knew Alana wouldn’t stop bitching about it, and because she knew her sister never had nightmares about horror films. But Olivia could barely get halfway through the first time Alana tried to get her to watch it with her, and she knew she wasn’t going to be any less scared now.

To make matters worse, Alana excitedly turned off the lights, enveloping the room in complete darkness save for the glow of the TV, and Olivia swallowed the tight lump in her throat as her sister hit play before sitting comfortably on a floor cushion with her back against the couch Olivia and Calum occupied.

Quickly, Olivia finished off the rest of her beer, knowing the potential jump scares were either going to make her spill the drink or choke on it, and put the empty bottle on the coffee table. Calum and Alana were happily munching away on the pizza, and Olivia wasn’t sure if she should even try to pick up a slice, too nervous for any potential scares that would come her way. She really fucking hated scary movies, and of course the universe would give her a little sister that thrived off of them.

At least Ethan Hawke was in the movie. He was hot.

Of course, that wasn’t entirely enough to make Olivia enjoy the movie. In fact, nearly half way through it, she brought her knees up to her chest and faced her body to the arm rest, back to Calum, cheek resting on her knees and hands brought up to cover her eyes to watch the movie through her fingers. There had been a few scary scenes already with that creepy monster thingy the movie revolved around, and the very sight of it freaked Olivia out.

And when another home movie started playing in the movie they were watching, where the music got loud and intense and downright terrifying because people were dying in it, Olivia closed her eyes and pressed her forehead against her knees, truly unable to watch it. She dismissed the fact that she was probably acting like a big baby, with Calum sitting right there, because she couldn’t help it. She was going to kill Alana for this.

The music was still loud, telling Olivia that the scene was still going on, and she let out a gasp when she felt a hand on her left side, quickly looking over her left shoulder—away from the TV—to see Calum reaching over for her. She stared, surprised, as he offered her a smile and gestured for her to come over.

Olivia took in a deep breath, her heart pounding—most definitely not from the movie anymore—and quickly turned, refusing to look at the TV as Calum kept his arm outstretched for her. She shifted towards him, feeling her cheeks warm up as his arm then moved around her shoulder, and Olivia was suddenly enveloped in Calum’s warm embrace with her knees still brought up and face pressed against his chest, cringing when the music grew more intense, hoping to calm herself down when she inhaled Calum’s familiar vanilla scent. It brought her a wave of comfort, especially when she felt his hand rub her arm and his chin rest atop her head to keep her from looking, knowing that she didn’t want to unless the truly frightening parts had passed.

All the while, Olivia wondered if Calum could feel her quickening heart—just like she could feel his under her ear.

Olivia would be embarrassed that Calum had to comfort her during a movie night she invited him to, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. Being in his embrace unexpectedly brought her solace that surpassed the terror the stupid movie brought. So instead of feeling like an idiot, Olivia welcomed the comfort Calum was giving her, reveling in the softness of his shirt and his familiarly pleasant scent and his warmth.

When the music from the movie died down, Calum lifted his chin from her head and murmured, “Alright, you can look now.”

Taking a breath, Olivia chanced a glance at the TV, seeing Ethan Hawke’s character talking to a police officer and she let out the breath she just inhaled. Instead of moving away from Calum, she found herself staying close, resting her cheek against his chest and watching the movie, ready to look away if something freaky began happening.

She completely missed the smile growing on Calum’s face at her closeness, but didn’t miss the way his heart was a steady, happy beat under his chest. It may or may not be because of her, but it definitely brought a smile to her face.

After the God forsaken horror movie ended, with a jump scare at the end neither Calum nor Olivia saw coming, resulting in her letting out a short scream and an amused laugh from both Calum and Alana, Olivia demanded they watched something heartfelt and light. No way was she going to bed with that movie being the last thing she watched.

They ended up watching one of the Scooby-Doo movies—which, although it wasn’t a scary film, still had Olivia and Calum sitting right next to each other, sides pressed and welcoming the warmth each other provided. Neither moved, neither wanted to move, away, and Olivia was finding it difficult not to let her lips break out into the smile they desperately fought for.

By the time they were done, it was a little after eleven at night, and all the food and jump scares had tired Olivia out. So the three of them cleaned up the living room, ridding of the empty boxes and putting the dishes into the dishwasher.

“Thanks for coming, Calum,” Alana smiled at the man as he put on his shoes. “It was really fun—you should come again next week.”

Calum playfully narrowed his eyes at her, sitting up straight and shrugging on his leather jacket. “You gonna steal my food next time?”

Her grin widened, not at all innocent, bringing a smile to Calum’s face as she shrugged. “We’ll see.” When Olivia returned from her room, having excused herself to grab something, Alana gave Calum a hug. He was surprised, but returned the gesture with a soaring heart as Olivia smiled at them. “See you later, Calum. Goodnight!” Alana chirped happily before turning and running down the hallway.

Olivia smiled after her sister, her hands behind her back as Calum chuckled softly. “She really likes you,” Olivia told him as they walked towards the door. “Thanks for joining us tonight.”

 “Thanks for inviting me,” Calum returned with a genuine smile as he opened the door. Honestly, he really was grateful that Olivia welcomed him here, included him in a night for her and her sister. He would probably be bored out of his mind at the house if he just stayed there, so being around Olivia and Alana was definitely a step up. Calum found himself enjoying their company—he already knew he liked hanging around Olivia, and he found himself adoring Alana and the utter spunk the young girl carried. “I had fun.”

“Me too,” Olivia nodded before letting out a sheepish laugh. “Even if I was using you to hide from the first movie. Thank you for that,” she added, her cheeks once again warming as she recalled his strong arm around her, the occasional soft words he’d whisper to assure her that it was okay. She felt like a baby needing all of that reassurance, but coming from Calum. . . Olivia found her thoroughly enjoying it.

“And as my thanks,” Olivia began once more, pushing back the thoughts of her and Calum’s proximity, her grin widening as she brought her hands around from behind her back, “I got you something.”

Calum’s eyebrows shot up as he caught sight of the lavender Moonflower bag, letting out a scoff of a laugh as he took it from the grinning brunette. “What’s this?” he asked, dipping his left hand into it. When he pulled it out, Calum let out a louder laugh as he caught sight of the blue socks with dressed dogs on them, the very socks he’d been eyeing at the boutique earlier today. “No way.”

Olivia’s grin widened at the sound of his laugh and wide smile on his face. “Don’t think I didn’t see you eyeing those bad boys,” she teased, clasping her hands behind her back. “Honestly, if you weren’t going to buy them for yourself, I totally was.”

His heart was light, the smile on his face easy and genuine because how fucking great was Olivia? The socks were dorky and adorable and Calum loved them, and he was absolutely surprised that she had managed to see his interest in them and decided to act on it. This gift wasn’t at all necessary, but the mere thought of it had Calum’s body igniting with genuine gratitude.

“Thank you, Olivia,” Calum laughed, grinning at the socks before putting them in the bag. He then brought his free arm up, and Olivia stepped into his embrace as her arms wrapped around his waist. Calum’s eyes closed at their closeness, her flowery scent making his heart race. “You’re absolutely incredible.”

Her blush intensified, cheeks probably resembling tomatoes as she modestly joked, “I try, I try.”

They pulled away and Olivia too a steadying breath, shoving her hands in the pockets of her loose sweatpants as she smiled up at Calum, fingers itching to brush back the few curls swooping across his forehead. Her heart felt as though it was about to fly out of her chest with the way his dark eyes were looking at her, as if he was taking her in, and she honestly prided herself for her legs not giving out beneath her. How was anyone supposed to stand upright when Calum was looking at them like that?

Suddenly there was a sound of a phone beeping, and Calum had to force himself to look away from Olivia as he pulled his phone out, seeing that he had a text from his grandmother, asking when he’d be home. “I should get going,” Calum sighed, looking back at Olivia, the soft smile returning. “Thank you for tonight. And this,” he added, lifting the bag slightly.

Olivia returned the smile, nodding along. “No problem,” she told him earnestly as Calum stepped out in the hallway. She held the doorknob, leaning against the door as she hopefully asked, “Text me when you get home?”

It was a short drive, Olivia knew, one she’s made hundreds of times. But a chance to talk to Calum again even after he left her house from being there for hours? Olivia didn’t want to pass it up.

Neither did Calum, it seemed, as he smiled and promised, “Of course.”

--

tags: @irwinkitten @glitterprincelu @sweetcherrymike @meetashthere @valentinelrh @astroashtonio @hereforlukescruff @calsangel @novacanecalum @captain-what-is-going-on @txcobell @angelbbycal @singt0mecalum @hopelessxcynic @lfwallscouldtalk @bodhi-black @findingliam-o @softlrh @calntynes @calumsmermaid @erikamarie41 @quintodosuniversos @longlastingdaydream @babylon-corgis @lukehemmingsunflower @spideyseavey @imfuckin10plybud @liviibi123 @pastelpapermoons @malumharmonies @conquerwhatliesahead92 @rotten-kandy @metangi @neigcthood @ohhmuke @old-zeppelin-shirt @5sos-and-hessa @trustmeimawhalebiologist @vxlentinecal @pettybassists @vaporshawn @lu-my-golden-boi @heartbreak-5sos @visualm3nte @isabella-mae13 @dontjinx-it @lifeakaharry @neonweeknds @antisocialbandmate @ixcantxdecidexwhosxmyxfave @calpalbby @grreatgooglymoogly @sunnysideblog @cocktail-calum @miahelizaaabeth @madelynerin @dramallamawithsparkles @hzi0 @aulxna @mermaiden004 @theagenderwhocriedwolf @kaytiebug14 @hoodskillerqueen @bitchinbabylon @empathycth @xhaileyreneex @inlovehoodx @calistheloml @aestheticrelated @bloodlinecal @sublimehood @madbomb @raabiac @britnicole11