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charincharge · 4 years

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AN: Part 3 of that Rowaelin Actress AU you’ve all been asking for. Because y’all are masochists. I’m fully convinced. Anyway. If you missed the first two parts, they’re linked below.

Part 1, Part 2

Manon shot Aelin an exasperated look as her stylist struggled to fix her premiere dress.

The man shoved another pin between his teeth as he pinched up the loose fabric at Aelin’s waist. The once form-fitting red gown fell limply across her bony shoulders.

“How did you lose this much weight in a month, sweetie?” Dorian asked as he tugged the thin straps up, pinning them to show how much he’d need to cut. Aelin ignored the shared look of worry between her team members. She didn’t bother responding. Nothing that would make sense to him, anyway. As his fingers fumbled with the fabric, Aelin looked at herself in the mirror.

Despite her red carpet makeup, she still looked exhausted. And she felt it, too. Her hands shook with the faintest tremor, betraying her withdrawal. And though she’d wanted her hair down in loose waves, her glam squad was shocked to discover that bits of it were breaking off the back. Brittle from malnutrition, one had whispered.

She was trying to kick her drug habit. She really was. It’d been a full day since her last bump, since Arobynn had handed her that small precious baggie of white powder she’d come to treasure so much. But, she wanted to get away from the man who’d controlled every aspect of her life for the last year, and she couldn’t let him have this over her. She’d find another way. She couldn’t bear his steely gaze or his possessive touch on her skin anymore. She’d regretted it as soon as she’d flushed the baggie down the toilet, her hands twitching to reverse the motion and grabbing at it as it swirled down the plumbing. But she knew it was for the best. She could do this.

“Dor, can you make this work?” Manon asked as Dorian sighed loudly.

“Grab me those scissors.” He motioned behind her. Manon handed them over, and he quickly got to work, snipping the straps to help pull the dress up more as he pinned them to the inside of the dress. He took the excess fabric he’d snipped and wrapped it around Aelin’s too-thin stomach in a cinched belt.

“Eh?” he raised his eyebrow in Manon’s direction, who couldn’t resist kissing him on the cheek.

“You’re a miracle worker.”

Dorian’s cheeks flushed slightly as he waved the usually stoic publicist off. “If they ask who’s it is, just say custom couture.”

Manon nodded succinctly and pulled Aelin over to the chair to help her slide into her towering heels.

“Do you need anything before we go?” Manon asked pointedly.

“Nope,” Aelin said, shaking her head. She would not break.

Manon sighed loudly, and ushered her into the black car waiting downstairs. The ride to the premiere was tense and silent, the only sound Manon’s long nails click-clacking away on her phone screen as she replied to a barrage of texts and emails.

The car finally pulled up, and as Aelin was about to exit the vehicle, she felt Manon’s hand clasp gently onto her forearm.

“Hey,” Manon said in a soft voice Aelin had never heard her use before. “I’m proud of you.”

Aelin’s eyes swam with unshed tears at her publicist’s words of affirmation. The brash and cold woman rarely gave anyone any kind of praise, so the words meant more than Aelin could fully process, her heart clenching with an overflow of emotion. She nodded succinctly and exited the car with a wide smile and a big wave for the screaming fans, blinking the tears away as she made her way to the first interview down the long line of press.

Her rehearsed answers came naturally, and she could almost see the end in sight as she looked ahead to the last two press members ahead. She was so close to being able to sit down, so close to being finished with this project and putting it behind her, and sleeping for a month.

She felt Arobynn’s presence behind her before the interviewer acknowledged him. His hand hovered over the bare skin of her back, and she fought the instinct to shiver as the his clammy palm pressed against her.

“There’s my star,” he said with a wide grin, leaning in to kiss Aelin’s cheek lightly. She swallowed back her feeling of disgust, forcing a small smile onto her face as cameras flashed all around her.

“Arobynn! Arobynn!” the photographers cried from every angle. “Can we get a picture of you and Aelin?”

Manon attempted to keep Aelin with the interviewer, insisting they were in the middle, but Arobynn ignored her, pulling Aelin’s toward the step and repeat background for a photo op.

Aelin had planned to do it last, a short walk across the step-and-repeat for photos and then duck into the premiere, but it seemed that her plans had been foiled. Stuck with Arobynn’s hand around her waist, she plastered a smile across her red lips and placed her cocked arm on her bony hip.

Her head looked away from the bright lights of the flashing cameras, suddenly feeling light-headed and overwhelmed, and she caught sight of a head of silver hair and couldn’t help but feel better. She’d made the decision to tell Rowan what was going on with her. It was way overdue, she knew, but it was a conversation she’d wanted to have sober and in person. And today seemed like the perfect opportunity. She’d have the entire movie to gear herself up for it, and then she could find a private place to discuss with him at the afterparty.

“Rowan!” the photographers called out. “Rowan, look over here! Rowan, why don’t you pose with Arobynn and Aelin?”

Aelin held her breath as Arobynn’s fingers dug into her side, grasping at her skin with uncomfortable pressure, as Rowan appeared at Aelin’s other side. His arm ghosted around her shoulders, barely pressing against her as he donned a wide smile for the cameras.

Flashing cameras went wild at the new combination of people in front of them – the director, the star, and the writer – and Aelin attempted to relax her smile to look more natural as she moved her arm to wrap around his sturdy waist.

“Rowan! Who’s your date tonight? New girlfriend?” a loud photographer called, and Rowan just shook his head, smiling graciously. But sure enough, as Aelin looked ahead of them, waiting on the other side of the step and repeat was a stunning blonde woman, staring at Rowan like he was the most amazing thing she’d ever seen.

Aelin’s stomach knotted as a feeling of nausea swept across her chest.

She’d waited too long. She was too late.

If Rowan had brought a date to the premiere and walked the carpet with her, it wasn’t something casual; it was real. Aelin chanced a glance up at him, but as if he could feel her looking, he looked away, over her shoulder at the girl waiting for him. He flashed her a wide smile, his cheeks flushing and his eyes alight with joy.

Aelin hadn’t seen that look in so long. She hadn’t realized how much she’d miss it when it wasn’t directed at her. Her heart pounded, and her skin prickled with goosebumps as a soft sheen of sweat broke across her brow.

Aelin motioned to Manon with a four-fingered wave, their emergency signal to be removed from a situation. Manon’s golden eyes narrowed as she approached the trio, apologizing to the photographers behind her.

“Sorry, folks, I need Aelin!” she said, reaching for Aelin’s limp hand and placing it through her bent arm. Aelin held on for dear life as her publicist swept her down the remainder of the press line, apologizing for needing Aelin inside. Aelin waved with as much enthusiasm she could muster, but her head swam, the floor becoming uneven beneath her feet with each uneasy step.

Manon shoved her into the ladies’ room, ushering everyone else out and locking the door behind her.

“You look green, babe, are you okay?” Manon asked as she helped Aelin sit on the large settee in the bathroom.

“I think I might pass out,” Aelin said, gasping for air. Manon pulled something from her purse as Aelin leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, hoping her clammy skin wouldn’t stain the silk of the gown.

“Eat,” Manon ordered as she shoved a baggie of Teddy Grahams in front of Aelin’s face.

Aelin made a face as she opened the bag with shaky hands. “Movie snack?” she tried to joke, but it fell flat. Manon rolled her eyes and stared harder until Aelin took one of the cookies and placed it in her mouth. She chewed slowly, the sugary sweetness feeling thick and cloying on her tongue.

“I have a toddler,” Manon said, shocking the hell out of Aelin. “I always have snacks in my purse.” Aelin paused her chewing. “Don’t look so surprised,” Manon said with a wry smirk. “Who do you think I’m always texting?”

“Clients?” Aelin croaked.

“Nanny.”

“Can I see a picture?” Aelin asked, and Manon bit her lip, warring with herself before finally showing Aelin a picture of a sweet toddler with honey eyes and Manon’s same white-blonde hair, wearing the cutest fluffiest dress Aelin had ever seen.

Before she could process anything, Aelin’s body heaved. She ran into the stall and heaved up the two cookies she’d consumed, her body expelling the sugary snack as soon as it hit her stomach.

Manon sighed. “What day of withdrawal are you on?”

“Two?” Aelin dabbed at her mouth with toilet paper, spitting the remnants of crumbs ungracefully into the bowl.

Manon helped her stand and sighed even louder. “I can’t believe I’m going to suggest this, but…. You need to make it through the end of the night, and you can’t be passing out or running to the bathroom to puke every ten minutes. Ask Arobynn for a bump.”

Aelin frowned. That was the last thing she wanted to do. She’d had all these plans. But she couldn’t help but agree with her publicist. Plus, it’s not like it mattered anymore. She had no need to explain anything to Rowan anymore, and she certainly didn’t plan on talking to him or his new girlfriend while she was tweaking.

But she wouldn’t resort to asking Arobynn. She couldn’t.

Still, she nodded at her publicist. She’d find some elsewhere.

As she made her way into the theater and took her seat next to Archer, she avoided looking at anyone, despite the heavy pressing feeling of eyes on her back.

Her costar smiled at her, content to excitedly chat about seeing the film for the first time. She noticed he was slightly twitchy, and Aelin nearly clapped for joy when she noticed him rub at his nose.

“Partying without me?” she whispered, and Archer shot her a dubious look.

“I didn’t think you partied with anyone but our director, Galathynius,” he said lowly.

“I’m branching out,” she said as she leaned forward. She placed her hand on his tux-clad arm and gave him the most seductive smile she could possibly feign with as little energy as she had. But it seemed to work. Archer’s eyes flashed, and he returned her expression with a roguish grin.

“Well, then,” he said, resting his hand on her silken thigh. “Find me at the party.” He winked at her, and she chuckled softly, squeezing his hand before placing it back in his own lap.

A harsh whisper made Aelin’s neck prickle behind her as she heard a hushed female voice say her name. She glanced over her shoulder and watched as Rowan nodded in response to the woman whispering in his ear. Their faces were so close, and Aelin could feel herself growing nauseous again.

Instead, she whipped her head back toward the screen and let herself zone out as the lights dimmed. She barely remembered the movie; it crossed her vision but never penetrated her consciousness. Memories of her and Rowan, tangled in his bed and running lines pervaded her senses.

When she arrived at the party, she knew she had to seek out Archer immediately. She was fading fast.

She’d just spotted him when Rowan crossed her path. His warm smile made her stomach flutter.

“Aelin.” Her name on his lips was everything she wanted, but her eyes pulled to the woman waiting beside him. “I was looking for you. I wanted to introduce you to—”

Aelin couldn’t bear to be introduced to Rowan’s girlfriend, though. Not yet. Not before she’d drowned herself in a white haze of drugs.

She spotted Archer out of the corner of her eye, and she smiled graciously, not wanting to be rude. “Sorry, I’ll come find you in a minute. I just have to…”

She pointed over his shoulder at Archer, who grinned lasciviously and winked at her, beckoning her with a curling finger.

Rowan’s expression changed to something she couldn’t quite parse out, but she didn’t have time to anyway. She was a woman on a mission as she followed Archer into the coat closet, cutting up half a baggie and snorting it quickly.

“Shit,” Archer laughed. “Some of that was for me! That was a big fucking bump.”

The white crystals worked quickly, creating a swirl of relaxation in her body, making her feel invincible. Instead of letting him take the last bump, Aelin leaned down and took it for herself.

“You snooze, you lose,” she laughed loudly, feeling loose and confident as she stumbled out of the coat closet.

Her heel snagged the bottom of her dress, and she launched forward into the arms of someone waiting just outside the closet. She fell into a hard chest with a loud oomph, and she couldn’t resist laughing again, feeling better and better as the drugs worked their way through her system.

She looked up to see the arms that had caught her and smiled guiltily at Rowan’s pained face. She blinked, hoping to change his expression, but with each slow blink, the image of Rowan faded away. She reached out, grasping for his face, pleading with him to stay, but before she could touch him, he disappeared. Her heart pounded too fast in her chest, and she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, hoping to calm herself.

“Aelin?” a faraway voice called. “Aelin?”

She could just barely hear him over the rush of blood in her ears. It swirled and swooshed around her ears, deafeningly loud as the world faded to white.

~*~

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#rowaelin #rowaelin fanfic #actress au #charincharge writes #im feeling angsty #angst #prompts #rowan x aelin #should i name this?#tog fanfic #throne of glass

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alightwhendarknessfell · 4 years

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Dear Andy,

I have debated posting this for a while, mostly because I wanted to get it right. With the WSTW re-record release approaching and things coming to light about the actions of a former member I feel that now is as good a time as ever. I don’t know if you’ll read this, but it is something that over the past year I have wanted to do. I have been unfair and overcritical and at times, downright mean. I was judging you and your actions based on my own interpretations. The events of the past few weeks have shown me that those interpretations were wrong. So here it goes…

I have been a fan of not only Black Veil, but of you going back to 2008-2009, when everything was still on Myspace. I vividly remember eagerly awaiting the release of WSTW and making my mom drive me to the local Hot Topic to pick it up the day it came out. I remember going to my first show in a small little bar in Raleigh, NC that sadly is no more, and I remember being dressed in war paint along with my best friends. I know that it may not seem like it, but I to this day consider myself a fan. The band that you created was pivotal for my teenage years and to this day the community you helped build means the world to me.

I will admit that it was my passion and love for that community that was the root of my criticism. Despite what you or others reading this may think, I do not hate you, not at all. There have been times that I felt let down, cheated, and disappointed as a fan, but the events of the past few weeks have really opened my eyes. I will get that to that point, but I did not and do not hate you. As a person I speak up, at times when I probably shouldn’t, but I do when I feel strongly about something. I have certainly made the mistake too many times of speaking before I had all the information or trusting my own judgement on things, I knew nothing about. I am trying to get better at not doing that.

I can see how some of the things I have said, condoned, or even given a platform to were mean, uncalled for, hurtful, and regrettably untrue at times. I have had this blog and been in this fandom for over a decade. I was 13-14 years old when I first made this blog, and I am almost 25 now. I look back on some of the things I said, and I deeply regret them. In 2015 this blog was accidentally deleted, and honestly it was probably for the best that some of my earlier posts are gone. Regardless, I have let myself get carried away or swept up in drama perpetuated by others (and sometimes myself). I have said things, even in the past few years that I shouldn’t have, things that could be hurtful. While my intention was never to hurt you, I think it’s safe to say that myself and others lose sight of the impact of our words when they are said behind a screen, to people we think will never read them. As a teenager or even in my early 20’s I didn’t think that someone ‘famous’ would see what I wrote, surely it would all get lost in the sea of tweets, posts and comments.

That does not make saying those things right.

I would like to personally apologize to you for not considering the fact that you might see some of those words. That you are a person with emotions just like everyone else, that could be hurt by them. I am sorry for letting others get away with saying cruel things, even if I pushed back on them or didn’t directly comment. I would be lying if I said that the fame (or infamy), status and notoriety I got for my words didn’t affect my actions. It’s sad, but true that often times more attention comes out of negativity than kindness.

As someone who has been bullied and suffers from mental illnesses, I should have left some things unsaid. I do not know you personally, I only know what you have shared. Seeing you speak about your own struggles with mental illness over the recent years has really given me a much-needed reality check. I have related to some of the things you’ve talked about more than you know. Some of the things that others and I have been critical of were clearly not the result of malicious intent but of your own hardships that we were blind to.

I think people forget, and I know I did, that when this band took off you were just a teenager yourself. To think that at 18 or 19 someone in your situation would act ‘right’ all of the time and never make mistakes is ridiculous. Not only were you a kid trying to figure the world out, but I think it has become clear that you were dealing with people who used you for their own selfish gains. That would be hard for anyone, regardless of their age.

I have never dealt with addiction on a personal level, but I emphasize with whatever pain you had to endure in your own struggles with it. You are right when you said that no one sees themselves becoming an alcoholic at twenty years old, and I am sorry for not being more sympatric in the past. One of my biggest regrets in all of this was hearing that during the time that I was probably the harshest to you (around 2016) was when you were struggling the most with trying to be sober.

I am happy that you are sober, I am glad that you were able to make it out of that cycle that consumes so many people. I hope that others who are struggling are inspired by your dedication to living a healthier life. In an industry where it is too easy to fall back into toxic behaviors and coping mechanisms, I am glad you have found strength.

I would like to speak on why I have been so negative in the past (and at times hateful). As I said, what you created in Black Veil meant a lot to me and so many others. This band has been a part of my life for so long and I have met some of the most amazing people through it. I have met people that I can honestly say I love because of this community. This fan base gave me a home when I felt alone and gave me something to identify with as a kid. That’s why I started cosplaying as you, sure it’s a hobby of mine and aesthetically I am a fan of 80’s glam metal, but it was mostly to pay tribute. I am not a ‘traditional’ artist in the sense of paintings and drawings, my media is makeup and costume. The WSTW/STWOF era is what I consider my era as a fan, the one that I identified with the most.

I admit, I was upset when it ended. That’s a stupid reason to be upset, obviously all bands change and there’s nothing wrong with that, but that’s how I felt. The source of my jadedness was not the adoption of a new look, it was deeper than that. Around 2016 was when I had the most animosity because I saw what I thought at the time was you ‘giving up’ on Black Veil. I felt like the ‘old’ fans weren’t wanted anymore and like most people, I felt the need to protect and defend what I loved.

With the introduction of your solo act, it felt like the community I cared so much about was being destroyed and I couldn’t understand why you were doing that. I was blinded by my own judgements. What came off as hate was really just hurt. I know I am not the only ‘OG’ fan who felt that way, and I took that to mean I was justified. In hindsight it is clear, none of us had any idea what was really going on with the band and certain individuals who were bringing it down. At various times it seemed like you hated the old era and as a fan who stood there from the beginning that felt like a gut punch. I let my own feelings make me bitter, and that was wrong. I let others fuel that bitterness, including ones who were actively stabbing you in the back.

I remember around 2012 I made a very critical post of an article you did in Kerrang talking about your struggles with alcohol. I criticized you for not saying more and even said that what you shared was nothing in comparison to a former member’s struggles with addiction. When I received this DM from that individual saying that they approved of my words and that I was ‘spot on’ I felt embolden. I deeply, deeply regret letting such a toxic and horrible person influence me. That post I wrote was wrong, ignorant and immature. That post was one that got deleted in 2015, but I still regret having written something so heartless.

(screen shot is from 2012, this was a Twitter DM from said individual. I did not share that post with them, they found it on their own and contacted me. )

I see now that you were not turning your back on Black Veil, you were trying to save it. The interview you did with Ryan Downey brought me to tears. I cannot imagine what it feels like to have something you spent your whole life fighting for be taken over by an abusive, evil, and selfish person. I feel like I have gained a better perspective of where you and the band were at over the past three weeks and I am sorry you are not free to say more. I am sorry for defending this person because they did not deserve a single fan.

Some who takes advantage of another’s passion and youth because they lack the creativity and ability to do it on their own is stealing, plain and simple. I am sorry that you have been tethered to such a horrible person for so long. I deeply admire your perseverance, strength and determination in taking back what that person tried to take. To be willing to destroy something you love and care about to keep it from the hands of evil is an incredible act of dedication to it.

I would like to end this with a few more things. I know I have been critical of people that you love. I do admit I have taken those criticisms too far at times where they crossed into bullying. I am sorry to Juliet for being unfairly harsh, I am not a hateful person, but I have allowed myself to act that way. There are certainly things that I have said that I stand by, and there are things that I may not agree with or understand, but I think there are ways that I can voice my own opinions respectfully, without being mean.

In an ideal world I would love to sit down with you, or anyone else I may have hurt and have a discussion about it, but hopefully this gets my point across well enough. I do not intend to delete my blog or stop accepting posts (although I will try and make an effort to get rid of toxic posts. It will just take a while to sort through them all). While I can’t promise to never say anything critical again, I can promise to stop the hatefulness. I am promising to make a real effort to clean up some of the toxicity towards you that is unfair and unwarranted. To facilitate a more respectful, yet still honest and open dialogue. I do take pride in my blog being one of the last places of discussion and community for fans, but perhaps without the cruelty that been allowed to fester. If you are someone reading this who comes here to be mean and hateful, I’m sorry but it has to stop. This was never intended to be a ‘hate blog’, but I will openly admit I understand why people thought it was.

If you take anything away from this, or if you even read this, please let it be this. I consider myself a supporter of you and what you have created. I want nothing more than to see you succeed and be happy. I hope that you are able to overcome the struggles in your life and that you are able to find meaning and true happiness if you have not already. Although it may not appear so, I have always routed for you. It may seem like nothing you do is ever good enough for the fans (or at least some of them) but for me at least that is not true. You have been given an impossible task of trying to please thousands of people, of never being allowed to fuck up, and having past transgressions brought up again and again. For that I am sorry, and I am sorry for having played a part in that.

You deserve to be treated as a person, not as an object or persona. I whole heartedly believe you are a decent person, who maybe has flaws and room for improvement, but so do I and so does everyone else. I do believe there are fundamentally bad people out there, people who deserve the karma they have coming. Those are the people that purposefully hurt, lie, manipulate, cheat and deceive others for personal gain. I think especially in the past few weeks we have been shown who those people are. Yet, I don’t believe you are one of those people.

To everyone out there who is reading this, please give people the chance to change. Be okay with admitting when you are wrong. Allow people to grow and become better. Over the past year my mentality and perspective on the world has shifted dramatically. Two years ago I couldn’t have written this post, but as I enter my mid-twenties I am able to look back and say ‘this is not the person I want to be, this is not the person I want people to think I am’. So all I can do is admit my shortcomings, apologize, and be better.

Andy, if you read this and made it to the end, thank you. You are in no way obligated to respond to or accept any of what I said. I just wanted to put this out there with the hopes that it in some way, or that some part of this, lessened some of the hurt I regrettably have caused.

- Ren <3

P.S the banner of my blog is not calling you or the band trash. It’s a fan term for when someone is really into something. Saying “I am ______ trash” means you love that thing. I know it’s weird, but it’s supposed to be an inside joke for other fans, it’s a positive thing. So, when I say “I am 100% 2010 Black Veil trash” I am talking about myself being a massive fan of that era. I don’t think you or the band is trashy, if I did, I wouldn’t be spending money on tickets, merch and shoving blue contacts into my eyes for 10+ years.

#Andy Biersack #Andy Black #Black Veil Brides #BVB #alightwhendarknessfell

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beautybranding55 · 3 years

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soliitvde · 4 years

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𝐉𝐀𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐑 '𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊' 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐈 -- how do we forgive ourselves for all the things we did not become ?

( casey deidrick / cis man / he and him ). introducing jasper ’ jack ’ stoneshire, the host for the allegiant . they’ll be thirty two years old , and arrived at hartly eight months ago. they work as a farmer, and you’ll always see a sickle around wherever he is

𝚆𝙰𝙺𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚄𝙿 𝚃𝙾 𝙰𝚂𝙷 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝙳𝚄𝚂𝚃

full name : jasper alistair stoneshire ii

nicknames : jack

age : thirty - two

gender / pronouns : cis man / he/him

date of birth : september 12th

location of birth : stoneshire manor , england

past residence : new york city , new york

current residence : hartly , arrived eight months ago

past occupation : gallery director

current occupation : farmer

family : paola vazques ( wife ) , leila stoneshire ( daughter ) , jasper stoneshire i ( father ) , moira stoneshire ( mother )

aesthetics :

playlist : radioactive - imagine dragons

character inspiration :

𝙸 𝚆𝙸𝙿𝙴 𝙼𝚈 𝙱𝚁𝙾𝚆 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝙸 𝚂𝚆𝙴𝙰𝚃 𝙼𝚈 𝚁𝚄𝚂𝚃

born premature , lungs underdeveloped , heart even more so . no - one thought he would survive . maximum , seven days , the doctors had said . and for seven days , his parents cradled him in his arms , wept and cried and got ready to say their goodbyes . but by some miracle , seven days came and went , then a month , then a year . and he was up and about , wrecking havoc with crayons on his grandmother’s wallpaper , splashing his parents in the bath . he was alive . and his name was jasper . but that was his father’s name too . and it became far too difficult for him to say ( had a bit of a lisp , when he was younger ) and readily settled for jack . little jack of stoneshire .

his parents , both from long lines of aristocrats , who never had to worry about money for a single day in their lives , were quick to feed him with a silver spoon ( blind to what the ritzy , glitzy glam of aristocracy did to them -- one , dependent on alcohol , the other seeing another multiple men ) and jack was quick to adapt to it . did fairly well in the dangerous land of the rich . traversed through mountains of galas , weathered small - talk with vacuous patricians . and he did it all without even breaking a sweat . this was what he was meant to do after all .

the years pass quickly and jack begins to find himself , a little lost . the years had left him worse for wear . the arrogance that was gifted to him by his name and class ultimately became his ruination . failed relationships , failed friendships . his hubristic nature had left him all alone . even ties with his parents were severed , they , and everything they came with , had raised a wolf . and that wolf had devoured them and everything they had .

in an attempt to create a new start , a new him , jack crossed seas , climbed ( metaphorical ) mountains and found himself in the u.s of a . having been just shy of nineteen and sheltered from all the true injustices of the world , his new reality was a sucker - punch to the face . he spent that night crying on a park bench in central park . but , after a great long night of reflection and a hot - dog form around the corner , he came to his senses and decided that yes , he was going to do this all by himself .

he got a job at a pizzeria two blocks down , studied art history at nyu , graduated , one - hundred and seventh from his class and got his first ‘real’ job as a gallery associate , at a museum of a famous-ish local artist . he progressed through the ranks , eventually becoming gallery director at the museum of modern art .

when he was twenty - six , he met the love of his life , got married two years later and had a kid the next year ! then of course , it happened . he reached out to his parents immediately , because they had a private jet and stoneshire manor was very very isolated from everything else -- but ( because of his arrogance and his pride and his adamant desire on maintaining his independence ) he had left it too late , the borders had closed . they were stuck . him , his pregnant wife and their three year old daughter , stuck in one of the busiest and most populated cities in the world .

* trigger warning : pregnancy loss * they tried their best to survive , hiding out , never staying in one place for more than a few days and the days blend into the next and they’ve all lost track of time but their unborn child was growing , his wife was weakening , any day now , he would think to himself . any day now , their new baby was going to enter this cruel and merciless world . they found another family , the husband was a midwife and the wife was a doctor , together they delivered their baby . but their little baby never made a sound and was still . and lifeless . they had lost him . * end trigger warning *

it had taken such a toll on him and his wife , they had named him bobby last minute , after his wife’s favourite singer -- bob dylan . but it took a far larger toll on his wife . and his wife , who was cursed to always feel everything intensely , was consumed with such deep grief . * trigger warning : self - harm / suicide * and so , one night , while jack was asleep , while their daughter little leila was asleep , she ventured out . not knowing what was there , just knowing she wasn’t coming back . he hadn’t seen her since . and he’s always blamed himself for it . * end trigger warning *

a year passes , though he’s not sure , maybe it was just a month or a week , or maybe it had been two years , but somehow him and his daughter make it through . some days its just silence between them , just the sound of their feet against gravel , some days they manage to laugh , they tell jokes and reminisce about that one that mom farted in an elevator . and it was good , it was enough .

but jack made a mistake . they had stumbled upon. a park and little leila , who barely remembers what a playground looked like , let alone what it felt like to be a kid , broke free from her father’s hand and rushed to the monkey bars . * trigger warning : death * and jack , was overcome with empathy and joy , it was the first time that he had seen his daughter truly happy . and the last . leila had ventured past his blind spot and jack was too slow to react . a grotesque creature , with almost snapped necks , a quiet growling and hollow eye - sockets stood over his daughter . eyeing her like a lion would stalk a deer . all he heard was a scream . and jack , carrying only a makeshift spear . tried his best to defend his daughter . but it was too late . splattered with blood and dotted with bites - marks . all that he could give her , was the mercy of a swift death . * end trigger warning *

tired , hungry and with barely any will to live , jack somehow found hartly . as though it was fate’s party trick , to leave him all alone , carrying the a guilt that was consuming him form the inside out .

𝙸'𝙼 𝙱𝚁𝙴𝙰𝚃𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙸𝙽 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙲𝙷𝙴𝙼𝙸𝙲𝙰𝙻𝚂

very chill , very calming , hates fights , hates arguments , always plays the peace keeper , tends to keep his emotions bottled - up , doesn’t let his anger out a lot . the only thing that really gets him worked up is constant mention of his past -- he feels really guilty about it so he pushes it to the very back of his mind and its only when other people that he may have told brings it up then he’ll go hulk - smash on a nearby wall

he’s a diligent worker , kinda keeps to himself . doesn’t like to establish any new connections cause he knows how easy they are to loose . very quiet , very shy and timid , gets flustered / embarrassed quite easily .

oh man , okay , he sometimes says really deep / profound / thought - provoking shit at the wrong times . like he’d whip out some quote from othello while he’s washing the dishes or something . it’s just a thing he does . it’s like a reflex for him . it’s like some sort of evolutionary leftover from his old , dark academia , posh - boy life .

𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝙸𝚂 𝙸𝚃 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙰𝙿𝙾𝙲𝙰𝙻𝚈𝙿𝚂𝙴

maybe the family they stumbled upon and helped deliver their baby ??

some new hartly acquaintances that can actually stand him ??

a prospective loooove interest ? ?? ?? ? though this would probably take a while

a connections from his old life ?? a co - worker ?? an old - school mate ??? his best friend ???? parents of his daughter’s friends ???

maybe he has a housemate at hartlys ??

farmer friendsss !!!

his confidant ???

someone he had found before hartly ??? and they found hartly together maybe ???

and lots lots more !!! i’m up for brainstorming !!!!

#miseriaintro

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ournewoverlords · 5 years

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Rocketman is great, go see it!

I'm not the man they think I am at home Oh no no no I'm a rocket man Rocket man burning out his fuse up here alone

Oh man, I was surprised by how much I enjoyed this movie. I’m apathetic towards biopics and I barely know any Elton John songs outside the Disney ones (yes, I’m a heathen, my excuse is that I didn’t get to America until 1995 and some combination of Britney and N’Sync consumed my formative years) but I had a big doofus grin throughout this movie and discovered a lot more sympathy for a celebrity I had in the back of my head as “the eccentric old dude who seems nice enough but probably doesn’t have all his marbles?”. That’s not because the film glamorizes Elton John by any means - it literally starts out with him declaring he’s done a great many horrible things, and concludes with him sighing that he’s been a cunt since 1975 - but you see the man inside the glittery bird costume, broken but trying, and I think that makes it a success in my book.

It’s a “musical fantasy” - honestly, a straight-up musical - that hits some pretty familiar narrative beats: main character bursts into rehab in the opening, looking like he needs a shower, a shave, and a hug, and now we’ll learn how he got there. No surprises, but it’s a clever way of unspooling his character arc as the movie progresses, because we watch him start his account with flat-out lies - “my dad was great, always there for me” - and then as he keeps going, it starts pouring out of him and he can’t help but begin to confront the truth. One character arc, the literal arc, is about his downfall, but the other one - the one behind it - is about his healing. It’s not an “X happened, then Y happened” kinda biopic, the journey here is as much inward as temporal - this is Elton, coming back to face the words a musician early in his career told him: “You gotta kill the person you were born as in order to become the person you want to be.” But who is the person Elton wants to be? What if the person he wants to be is just... himself?

And who is that, anyways? What I love about the movie is how it’s interested in what’s behind all the glam, the glitter, the outrageous costumes and crazy heels and rock n’roll - but it’s not afraid of those things either. You don’t have to be one or the other, extrovert or introvert, dazzling showman or a shy kid who only ever wanted to play for himself. Because the man IS fucking fabulous, he clearly had big emotions and a big life, and what I love about this movie is how it’s not afraid to throw itself into that, the same way camp is a kind of defiance against both the people who take life too seriously, and the people who don’t take it seriously enough. It punctuates again and again that this whole thing is about the hole in Elton’s heart, the hole that one’s parents are supposed to fill, and how his outrageous talents both lift him out of there and then give him too many things to fill it with — luxury clothes, booze, sex, drugs, eating disorders, pushing away the only people who care for him as if self-hatred were its own addiction. It’s a bottomless pit, and the struggle Elton faces is whether there’s anything worth salvaging at the bottom of it. It doesn’t sound like a very heroic choice, but it is: choosing life.

Some notes I jotted down right after watching, spoilers under the cut:

There were some things I didn’t think worked as well, though it wasn’t that they were bad, just that I wish there was more there.

For example, I thought that the final sequence where the characters from his past re-appear in this kind of cliched therapy sequence felt a bit too on-the-nose and forced, or at least clunky compared to the deftness of many of the earlier scenes. As a climax, it didn’t really land for me. This is part of my general wish that the story had more “meat” on it — i.e., a bit more prose and less verse — because it feels like it should be building up to this realization that Bernie was the one who truly loved him this whole time (not romantically I mean, but, in the more meaningful sense, properly). Because Bernie essentially becomes a peripheral character after their initial honeymoon — he’s always kinda in the background, but they drift apart over the years to underline Elton’s fall — so their relationship doesn’t have as much weight as it could’ve to me even though it is a thread that runs throughout the movie.

Don’t get me wrong — the scenes they have together are sublime, especially that “Your Song” scene, where the look Elton gives him really makes me wonder if Elton’s aborted kiss really was just a young man confusing his momentary giddiness for a crush. Jamie Bell gives this wonderfully gentle performance that keeps him as this North star in your mind, the one you want Elton to find home by. I just wanted more, especially in the latter half of the film, because I think the core of this film is about a love story, between Elton John and the things that save him: his best friend, and his love for music.

That’s my critique of the film in general, if I had to have one — despite running over two hours long, there’s some parts that feel oddly compressed or skimpy. John Reid, Richard Madden in an incredible performance as Elton’s frighteningly intense yet undeniably attractive business (and pleasure!) partner with the Hugo Boss suit and smoldering black eyes, goes from what girls want the dude in Fifty Shades to be to an abusive, cold-blooded asshole in the span of what feels like two scenes and ten minutes. It’s like one second, Elton’s star is rising and he’s flying high — and then in the next, he’s snorting coke, fighting with John, and drinking too much. It is heavily implied that: 1) getting famous was synonymous with doing drugs at the time, and because of Elton’s personality he couldn’t brake (but I still wish they made this subtext a bit more text) and 2) that behind this lurch downwards is his inability to be honest about his sexuality — John, of course, wants him to marry a beard “for the business” — but it’s strange that that’s not brought up earlier as a theme, when he was secretly getting kissed by the trumpeter and then happily trysting with John.

“Living a double life”, though, is a huge theme in another way: it’s the contrast between Elton’s happy, extravagant show life and Reginald Dwight, a lonely little boy trapped inside a miserable man trapped inside a mansion that provides so much of the pathos in the “adult” years of the film. None of the fame and fortune have brought him love, only adoration. If that’s a familiar thesis in biopics about famous people, it still works for me here because Taron Egerton’s performance is just SO GOOD. He gives it his all in every moment, not just the big singing and dancing ones. Behind all the little drug-induced twitches and grimaces of self-loathing (but also just the tiiiny bit of ego all great performers have), you can see the sweet kid who deserved better, who just wants to “go home”, if only he could find it.

I think the fundamental reason behind my “I wish there were more stuff” is the fact the movie structures itself after a musical, and for musicals the non-singing parts are more about how you get from one big singing part to the other. That’s a hard space for a biopic, especially one that gets into pretty serious territory and has years to cover; song and dance end up competing with time for character work. But the director does something I think is really clever, though, and that’s to use those musical sequences as part of the story — the moments flow into the song, and the song crystallizes the moment/theme/feeling in this natural way. They’re not an excuse to check off Elton John’s biggest hits, but rather fulfill a cinematic purpose in capturing an emotional rather than factual truth.

Not just the songs, but there are a number of these deft little scenes I really liked because they make the “point” in a single shot/cut/image, with very little dialogue. Some examples:

- The first time Elton and Bernie meet, Bernie mentions the country song Elton’s prospective manager had just disparaged and Elton kinda smirks, then in the next beat realizes that maybe that was kinda asshole, and he clumsily hums out the first verse, and Bernie perks up and follows with the next, and soon they’re both banging on the diner table and singing it together with huge grins. What’s especially great about this scene is that you can’t figure out if they’re doing this in “reality” and everyone thinks they’re crazy, or if this is one of those musical fantasy sequences. The point is that the distinction between them doesn’t matter, because that sequence is about the feeling of the moment, and at that moment they feel connected. Love at first sight.

- The scene where many years later Elton, now successful and dare-we-say perhaps even hopeful that his father might accept him now, finds the man with his new house and family — and after the expected awkward intro it seems to be going ok, his father’s invited him to come sit and chat inside. So there’s his father sitting on the couch… and then this pair of boys, his new sons, comes over and he just wraps his arm around them so easily, and your gut sinks instantly, before it even cuts to Elton, whose face has shattered all at once

- Nice studio girl, lifting her voice with his in his darkest moment -> cut to wedding -> cut to morning at the house, each opening their own door and greeting each other with an excruciating level of politeness. Says it all in three scenes.

- The levitation during his performance at The Troubadour. PERFECT. You can say “this and this happened”, “and then he gave an amazing performance”, but that’s not as powerful as showing the feeling Elton John must’ve felt during that performance: a lonely little boy turned struggling young man who felt, for just a moment, that he could fly.

- Another musical sequence - Elton’s suicide attempt, where they carry him onto the ambulance and he keeps batting away the oxygen mask to keep singing. It works on so many levels because he’s just a kid who wants to sing, he’s the star who was born to sing, but he’s also a man who doesn’t want to live.

#rocketman #rocketman review #taron egerton #richard madden

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joseyfeli1-blog · 7 years

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Triple Threat By Josey

Oh,

here it is.

Yep,

of course.

It's stricken

I'm- Tick, Tick n'

Tick, Tick

and defective

and confusing

better get to boozing!

so won't be losing

and continuously wasting

space, time and emotions.

Can't stop the fixations.

Start of the predisposition

of jumping to conclusion

and watching the worse case scenario

wash over me like a tidal wave

while I eat these fucking oreos.

Mmm they my fave

this box is their grave

no want to save

no problem with them, They've

Got me moving to a rave.

Not such a place of tame,

all calling me lame.

If I get an attack they be the blame.

God, my heart on flame,

wish to get the fuck out and flame on,

Shit I shouldn't have came!

Feeling like imma get my puke on.

got in a stall and claim, the throne

Goddamn it's a shame that my aim is off taken,

can't remember my name,

my game is forsaken,

holy shit I have a weak frame.

In just this time frame

I could've played a computer game, changed my surname, defeated a war-game, rerouted the mainframe, made it on the hall of fame for a fuckin golf game, maybe played a board game, kissed a dame, start and end my fame, fix a window frame, fucked with a company name, screw over the family name, bounce a check over an insurance claim, try my hand in the gambling game, disinflame my heart burn, set my lust aflame, nail a picture frame on the wall of shame, stare at a candle flame, star in a con game, create a stage name,

disclaim my first name, exclaim in name that is all the same, and one of the same, and truly it is such a shame.

If only I were to overcome, this burning wart.

Now I got these Hoes

shouting spit and eating their ho-hos.

All I can wail is, "Oh no! The prom's tomorrow!"

An' all these P-O-Cs, they tellin' me!

"Won't you stop worrin' 'bout the whales!"

"No need to learn Braille!"

"Don't eat that! It's stale!"

"All you got to do is exhale!"

"I'm gonna blackmail you, for drinking that cocktail. But Imma need more detail on what makes you shake that tail, talk to me female! I mean the fuck! You a shemale? Goddamn you are a fail!"

Uhm, Hmm. Well, Uh. Mmm...

All words escaping

Mouth like a bar,

Vaping.

Best would be taping

and explaining,

and talking,

but maybe it'll end up fine.

Only awareness takes time.

Can't lie, that isn't fine,

Gotta say that sounds assanine.

Oh shit! It's nine; little late, don't you think

time for your friend?

No not one with hands and warmth,

the one where you seek for

a being that took time to make,

one that is processed for your problem.

There you go, you're getting it,

something that helps you defend, gets you out of these chills.

helps you pretend- Fuck, take your pills! Already,

No life ain't glam, Just fuckin' swallow them!

Uh, oh.

Here's the hell-

so here it is

it's gotta start

the span of its flight

has taken height.

it's been fun,

anxious.

Tonight I forget everything.

Now gets cautious,

but not an alien feeling

let it with openiness.

Till it's sealing,

not allowing leaking.

Feels cold.

Don't get bold;

just let go of your hold,

realize your worth.

Had it since birth;

it's the truth,

gotta let these go.

They say they care,

No!

Just don't want to bare.

"Don't have an idea of what to do?"

"Nothing you want to share?"

What would that do to Bo?

Nah; that's not fair.

Internalize;

keep it inside

keep it down

and pipe down!

No one wants to hear that shit!

It's your shit

you fucking handle it!

Your fault you got bit

Better fix it;

on one sit!

You're so full of shit!

You gonna be like this?

All your life?

'Til end of time?

Why must I be shite!?

Stop feeling this.

Be that Bitch!

Act fucking different!

Change yo taste,

altify your accent,

conform your heart!

Call this the opposite

site of high.

I've finished my hustle

get ready for this bustle

no need to hurry.

But bye,

Hello.

Hi-

Mind for an intro?

Your a huge reason I cry

No need for the duction,

fuck you, you mess with my diction.

Quite so.

So,

Start? No.

Why not Hoe?

Cause I love teasing you. The feeling I get from you, not needing to brew, making you feel blue, changing your life askew, fucking you like a corkscrew, kicking your ass like I know kung fu, thought you had luck to get through set proof to set through and pull through not knowing that I'll just cut through and push you and use nitro to subdue you. I know how to live up to and move into, like a metal screw, to just eff with you.

I may be a shrew, but we both know this is overdue. Oh look! navy blue, your favorite hue. Now to give you my review and cause you to mew! Thought you'd grew? And flourish, become a florist, and polish yourself, to tarnish me? You can't leave me, I am apart of you, and I come back to say boo!

I've been told to be happy.

To grow up and make it snappy.

Maybe all I need is a long nappy?

A dirt nap. A few pills can help, do it in a snap. And then you won't care whats happening, nope.

But everyone says not to, that I shouldn't strew with you. All I gotta do is sit and wait for my breakthrough, and collect my internal revenue, then I'll feel like new.

No!

What? No?

Yes! Dear god, yes! Think 'bout it, all life is a mess, no more stress over a dress, to not obsess with the success of life, to possess this gallant crest.

Do I need to digress? No more worrin' about the economic process, your life is your business, I'm the boss.

Sit all crisscross and pray under my cross. I'll tell you how to toss, and throw your life away and end up dead and glossed. Take a huff of Nos. No one wants you, you not a loss. The redcross hate you, wasted their time on you already, emboss yourself in gallons of hot sauce, seriously you are not a capital loss. Trust me, I ain't a double cross.

'S not what everyone is sayin'

Idiot! they lyin'! What? You ain't gonna give in? You want be cowadice? Fine!

Now you're scarin-

Good!

Now come on! Get the show on! Get the knife and show your brawn! Spread that fake lawn on your face and smile for a while! You've brought this on yourself! Can't blame anyone! I'm inside you! I frown upon you! You bastard can't handle this!

It'll all be gone at the swipe of a knife.

You're ridiculous.

What?

You saying that you're insidious,

So what?

You are hideous. You're acting villainous. You're my oblivion.

Look, I'm the one that-

Stop! At this period I am the one that ain't delirious. You the amphibian, you ain't got experience to run this machinery; I've been the imperious, you haven't dealt the injurious I put us through, you such a devious bitch! God you're the idiot! Acting mysterious and serious, you ain't lastin' longer than Sirius. And I'm being considerate; damn, I feel vigorous. Despiteous our affiliates it's obvious your nefarious acts are just reruns, and you're outta acts to play out and this is your last scene and as you seek a finish line you won't see an end, and you won't be seen or all you've been will just be part of a trash bin.

Now it's time for your blubberin' an' wailing! While I'll hunt you down like whale and dump your blubber where it pollutes and consume you.

You got salt?

No.

Probably cause you got smelt, and dealt with! Time to halt and exalting whale oil on you and start training for the loss of Traan and switch to partnership of solar and water transition to power of position, stop hating on trans, and take trip on a train and brain over the thought of dispossession on me from now on.

You've lost me, I ain't losing myself. Not over you.

#my words #song #lyrics #my work #me #triple threat

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bigyack-com · 5 years

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Sophia Hutchins Comes Clean About ‘Best Friend’ Caitlyn Jenner

Keeping up with the new besties in the Kardashian-Jenner entertainment complex can be a full-time job.But even in their social media panopticon, Sophia Hutchins stands apart, and not just because of her ice-goddess looks and self-promotional savvy. Sometime in 2017, tabloid stories began linking Ms. Hutchins to Caitlyn Jenner, first as “friends” and “gal pals” who shopped and vacationed together.Before long, the tabloids said that the two were romantically involved, and often pointed out their age difference: Ms. Jenner, who is 70, was apparently dating someone younger than her 24-year-old daughter, Kendall. (Ms. Hutchins is 23.) Some reports went so far as to say they were engaged.“Who is Caitlyn Jenner’s fiancée Sophia Hutchins?” read a headline in The Daily Mirror in 2018. ”Ms. Hutchins has not exactly hurried to dispel those rumors. She has posted selfies on Instagram from what looks like Ms. Jenner’s bed, with the caption “home sweet home.” Another time, she created an Instagram Story and took questions from followers; when one asked, “Are you in a relationship?,” she replied coyly, “Oh yes!” without naming anyone.But Ms. Hutchins, the C.E.O. of a start-up beauty brand, has never commented directly on their relationship, until now.On a recent Monday afternoon, Ms. Hutchins was sipping green tea in the lobby of the Mercer hotel in the SoHo neighborhood of Manhattan. Dressed in a black Alice + Olivia turtleneck, she had straight blond hair that framed her slate-blue eyes and gravity-defying cheekbones. She bore an uncanny resemblance to Ivanka Trump.Ms. Hutchins grinned at the comparison to the first daughter. “I’ll take it,” she said, adding that she is not a registered Republican. “I think Ivanka is gorgeous.”Seated with perfect posture, Ms. Hutchins expressed emotion sparingly and came across as analytical and preternaturally poised. She was keen to discuss her beauty product, Lumasol, a sunscreen mist she plans to release next year. We would get to that. But first: Are she and Ms. Jenner really a couple?Ms. Hutchins folded her hands on the table, set her blue eyes to stun and said in a matter-of-fact manner: “We were never romantically involved.”So why have the tabloid reports persisted? “Because we weren’t addressing it,” she said. “I don’t feel a need to address my sex life, quite frankly, unless I want to.” She took a sip of tea and, with her firm tone, indicated that the matter was closed.

Class President to Celebrity Manager

Before the spotlight beckoned, Ms. Hutchins grew up in Seattle, where she was a three-time state high school debate champion. She was raised by a single mother, who worked as a dental hygienist, and her grandparents.“My grandfather, a rocket engineer at Boeing, was the greatest influence in my life,” she said. “My grandparents stepped in and helped out by sending me to an elite college prep school,” and later to Pepperdine University in Malibu, Calif., in part because it offered the best financial aid package. Slightly built and studious, Ms. Hutchins initially identified as a gay man. At college, she was active in student government and planned a career in finance. But in 2016, during her junior year, she announced on Facebook without explanation that she was resigning as the student class president.A few weeks later, she gave an interview to the Graphic, a Pepperdine student newspaper, explaining that she was taking a semester off to transition. “I’ve always had the question of ‘Do I want to transition from male to female?’” Ms. Hutchins was quoted as saying. “I never thought a lot about doing it until I got into college because I was able to break away from my family and started to establish my own identity.”She regrets the interview, saying that she feels overly defined by her gender transition. “Had I not done that interview, I never would have come out,” she said. “I would just live my life. Now people can’t really see past the trans thing.”She also told the newspaper that two things inspired her to transition: the support of her friends and family, and seeing Ms. Jenner talk about her journey on “20/20.”Ms. Hutchins would soon meet her inspiration. After returning to college, she embraced a newly invigorated social life and popularity. “I blended right back in on my first day back,” she said. “The guys were like, ‘Did you transfer in? I’ve never seen you before.’”Her new lifestyle also included a hair-and-makeup team. (Asked why a college student would hire personal grooming stylists, a spokeswoman for Ms. Hutchins, Kristen Shea, said: “In L.A., regardless of whether you are a student, most everyone has hair and makeup people. I mean, glam squads are almost a given.”) One member of her glam squad was working with Ms. Jenner and thought the two would hit it off. “We were introduced through my makeup artist at a M.A.C. photo shoot,” Ms. Hutchins said. “Having a similar sense of humor, we spent the entire time laughing and ended up meeting for brunch, and we’ve been great friends ever since.”Ms. Hutchins, who had become disillusioned with a career in finance, also sensed an opportunity. Ms. Jenner’s former wife, Kris Jenner, was no longer her business manager. And although Ms. Hutchins had no relevant experience, she was persuasive and ambitious enough to convince Ms. Jenner to hire her.“I saw nobody was managing her, and there were all these people taking massive advantage,” Ms. Hutchins said. “And I was saying, ‘Caitlyn, if I don’t step in here and start managing you, you’re going to go broke.’”They quickly developed a level of trust and, during her senior year, Ms. Hutchins became Ms. Jenner’s manager, taking a 10 percent cut. She also moved into Ms. Jenner’s ridge-top home in Malibu, the same four-bedroom, 11-acre compound where the “20/20” interview took place.Since signing on, Ms. Hutchins said she has taken the lead on negotiating a raft of deals, including paid speeches for T-Mobile and the Harvard Leadership Summit, and before Britain’s House of Commons for Channel 4. She also negotiated Ms. Jenner’s recent appearance on “‘I’m a Celebrity … Get me Out of Here,’” a reality show in Britain, “which has been reported to be the highest fee in the show’s history,” Ms. Hutchins said. “We made a lot of money together and still do.”Approached for comment, Ms. Jenner declined to be interviewed, but her publicist emailed a statement: “Over the last few years, Sophia has been my best friend, family and confidant. She is one of the top minds in her field. Her value in my life is undeniable. The sky is the limit with her entrepreneurial spirit.”

Her ‘Extended Family’

It didn’t take long for Ms. Hutchins’s business radar to detect other opportunities. The idea for her beauty product, Lumasol, was born one night in 2017 over dinner with Jami Morse Heidegger, a neighbor in Malibu who is an heir to the Kiehl’s beauty brand.“We were talking about what’s missing in the market and I said, ‘Why can’t I get a makeup-setting mist with SPF?’” she said, referring to a spray used to help makeup last.After months of market research, testing and pitch meetings, Lumasol is scheduled to begin selling next April. The mist will be priced between $30 and $50 and will be packaged in a bottle that changes color when exposed to ultraviolet rays, nudging consumers to spray early and often.“We consider ourselves a health tech company because we see SPF as the first entry point to tackling the health crisis which is skin cancer,” Ms. Hutchins said.Being associated with the Jenner-Kardashian clan probably doesn’t hurt. “I’m on good terms with all the family, but I’m closest with Kris, Kim, Kylie and Kendall,” said Ms. Hutchins, who recently posted a picture of herself to her 100,000 Instagram followers from a family dinner for Ms. Jenner’s birthday, standing between Kim and Kourtney Kardashian.“And anytime I needed a meeting with someone that I couldn’t get, Caitlyn could get it for me,” she added.She has raised $3 million in seed funding, including from Greycroft, a venture firm in New York. “If you attach an influencer with a huge following to a consumer product, it’s like having your own media channel,” Ian Sigalow, a founder of Greycroft said in an interview with Forbes this year. “Lumasol’s starting on third base — they’re going to take off.”But Ms. Hutchins is not counting on free promotion from the women she calls her “extended family.” “If I want someone in that clan to promote the product, they’re going to be compensated,” she said. “And these girls are not cheap.”Ms. Hutchins set down her tea and checked the time; she was fitting the interview into a busy day of meetings. When her phone rang, she didn’t hesitate to pick up. It was Ms. Jenner calling to report on repairs to her private plane, a Beechcraft Baron turboprop. “I need to get to San Francisco from L.A. on Thursday super-early, and Caitlyn is flying me,” Ms. Hutchins said.Hearing from Ms. Jenner seemed to cheer her up. The call also provided an opening to return to more personal questions. If she is not dating Ms. Jenner, is there another special someone?Turns out, there is. Ms. Hutchins confided that she just started dating a 30-year-old gentleman who graduated from Harvard and works on Wall Street. No other details would be forthcoming. But for the second time that afternoon, she softened her gaze, looked up and smiled. Read the full article

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kathrwn · 5 years

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Lana Del Rey is rotting your brain

Read with footnotes here.

We hold these truths to be self-evident: Lana Del Rey does not exist. No, since she is the character performed by the artist Lizzie Grant, whose uncritical approach to American nostalgia does more to invoke the helplessness of American apocalyptica than to make us yearn for simpler times. And just as Lana does not exist, neither does any depth to the project of Miss Del Rey. Between winged eyeliner, prairie dust photo filters, and an affected croon, Lana Del Rey manages to be both campy and pretentious, and does neither particularly well.

Looking at Lana Del Rey music videos, there are similarities which together comprise a Lana “image,” or a sort of aesthetic uniform which unites the Lana Del Rey Cinematic Universe. Often there are post-production filters which evoke old-school photographs of your mom’s cousin in the 60s, references to film and music stars of the 50s, and a misplaced fetish for the “good ol’ days” of America which turns grit into surface-level beauty.

Thematic focus is good, especially when the singer is a construction, like Lana is. Critics are quick to notice her sharp devotion to her bit, calling her music a “Southern Californian dream world constructed out of sad girls and bad boys, manufactured melancholy and genuine glamour,” or “a blown-out Hollywood production.” Lana has described herself as a “Lolita got lost in the hood” or even a “Gangsta Nancy Sinatra” which critics have called straight “manufactured.”

While plenty of songstresses presently play with the heights of glamour that women are expected to summit in the spotlight--Lady Gaga, Cher, and Dolly Parton come to mind instantly--many of them inject irony or camp into their performances, their outfits, their presentation. Parton in particular loves to joke about herself, famously quipping “I'm not offended by all the dumb blonde jokes because I know I'm not dumb... and I also know that I'm not blonde.”

It undeniable to say these three women also play characters in their music--Lady Gaga is not nobility, Cher’s Twitter is filled with political commentary, Dolly Parton is, of course, not even blond. Lana also plays a character, but why is the Lana character a failure compared to the others? It’s not for want of production--many women pop stars are over-, perhaps even hyper-produced to drive the point home about the disinfectant power pop music holds over artists. Lana is also over-produced, somehow giving her music an auditory sepia tone, as though it were a film from the Golden Age of Hollywood.

But perhaps that’s it--Lana, as a character, is reactionary. She invokes a time well-past, and one well-past for good reason. The 50s and 60s were not heavenly for all, certainly not for black people, not for gay people, nor political dissidents. Lana’s music draws on themes that attempt to highlight the teeming hate and anger of midcentury America, but ultimately fail when she refers to herself as “[y]our Venice bitch” and prides herself on wearing “his favorite sundress” but with a strange sincerity. Often times, Lana infantilizes herself, referring to her lover as “Daddy,” or worrying that he is so superficial he might not love her, perhaps most famously, when she is “no longer young and beautiful.”

That is not to say that Lana is vapid, but she has adopted the veneer of being so. She has unwittingly become a crooner for the past when her worth was tied to a sexual currency. Her uncritical love for glam and grand cinematisme is part of her pastiche act. But because she is nostalgic, and rarely, if ever, scathing when she sings about outdated courtship and relationship dynamics, she shows just how empty her actual songs are. In dying to know if she will be loved when her skin is no longer elastic, Lana never manages to find validation and closure in herself, instead tying her worth even tighter to a man she calls her “sun,” who plays with her “like a child.” Cool and normal. Newer songs follow this same trend, with cuts like “You’re beautiful and I’m insane, We’re American made” doing little to flatter herself, then listing off American inventions like “Hallmark” and “Norman Rockwell.” (The Norman Rockwell thing is especially weird when she follows it immediately with references to sex and then calling herself--again!--“your little Venice bitch.”)

There’s nothing many Americans love more than Americana and sincerely yearning for a time they never experienced. Lana, perhaps, is the most “I was born in the wrong decade” singer to grace our airways. Her songs make love, even uneven and abusive love, the ultimate goal. Letting summer--a time that is eternal in the LDRCU and, supposedly, California--wash over her and her lovers until the cocaine and ocean consume them.

Then, it’s no surprise this cheeky political compass places Lana in the libertarian right segment--she is made to sell, to hit some pleasure center in impressionable brains, to be a sweet spot in pop music that guarantees profits will be made from her work. Her songs are chock full of concrete imagery, which allows them to become realized in her audience's mind, rather than relying on letting the listener make their own emotional connections. There is nothing wrong with that, but it shows why the Del Rey song formula is as successful as it is soulless.

Take, for instance, her famous “Summertime Sadness.” From the red dress she wears, to the pale moonlight, to the “telephone wires above... Sizzling like a snare” we can recreate the scene in our heads. These lines are so evocative, so palpable in what they describe, it wouldn’t be hard at all to envision yourself standing in her same pair of high heels.

However, there is a marked absence of irony or self-awareness in her discography. Her sincerity is her downfall. When she sings “Let me kiss you hard in the pouring rain, You like your girls insane,” does she mean it. And she really means it. She prides herself on her lyrical tendency to degrade women.

This is not a new criticism of Lana. She herself has said “the issue of feminism is just not an interesting concept. I’m more interested in, you know, SpaceX and Tesla, what’s going to happen with our intergalactic possibilities. Whenever people bring up feminism, I’m like, ‘God, I’m just not really that interested,'” which is proof that Lana is so massively lacking in any self-awareness that her music becomes pointless, useless, and dumb. How is being interested in SpaceX and Tesla at all incompatible with the basic philosophy of women’s liberation and complete personhood? What about the women who were unable to be astrophysicists in the past, but are now writing the algorithms that take us to those “intergalactic possibilities”? How about the droves of young women who unironically listen to this schlock, call themselves insane, and then have no clue how to be a part of a functioning, normal relationship, because they think they have to be a crazy minx? Actually, even better, what about the bat shit insane way Elon Musk treats women, like when he famously pulled his bride aside and told her he was “the alpha.” It’s just bonkers how popular Lana Del Rey’s line of thinking is. That somehow feminism is incompatible with the fetishism of science?

Perhaps that’s where Lana Del Rey stands out. As soft rock and easy listening DJs give us “Fight Song” and “Firework” ad nauseum, we have grown weary of the female empowerment song. Any song that wasn’t “You’re So Vain,” is extraneous to the genre of girl power pop. Maybe this makes Lana appealing, if only because she shakes up our expectations. Her yearning is to be submissive, not to be dominant, a far cry from the way many chanteuses have embodied the lyrics of Patti Page’s “Conquest.”

If that were all, maybe it could be forgiven. It would be a sweet rebellion against the popular themes of the day, one that has its problems but isn’t overly regressive. Only, the more you dig, the worse it becomes. Not just the content of her lyrics, and her constant playing of the damsel, but the visuals she chooses to use in her videos and albums are beyond simply self-stylized misogyny. Lana has a nasty habit of racializing her character, trying to make simple the complex legacy of mid-century American counter culture.

For instance, in her epic three-song music video Tropico, Lana appears to us in several visions. Once as Eve, once as a sex worker, once as a woman escaped from the city to be with her lover. The first one is the color of the dream of a flower-crown-era-Tumblr aesthetic blogger, the last is similarly as harmless. But that one in the middle is an iffy exploration of the actual economic conditions of sex workers, but absurdly tone deaf in the light of her comments about feminism. And all of the above is extremely tone deaf within the LDRCU. Is she supposed to be the girlfriend of a gang member, styled in heavy eyeliner and bandanas reminiscent of cholo culture? Or is she, as is inline with much of the rest of her videography, an upper-crust, Jackie-O-esque trophy wife with a listless stare? Neither are particularly good characters to play, relying on stereotypes and hazy filters to get the point across.

But Lana has always had an issue with understanding the fundamental issues of her middle-distance gaze into American history. Yes, it’s cool Lana has A$AP Rocky play Kennedy, that’s pretty neat; but it’s also extremely uncool to do so while adopting a Cuban-sounding name while turning up the nostalgia factor on figures who, like Kennedy, did great harm to Cuban and Cuban-Americans. The conflict she creates within her own character is glossed over by her, and much of her audience. While critical pieces of Lana do exist, many fans--including myself at times!--get lost in her Venice Beach Baddie persona, and forget her self-awareness trends in the wrong direction.

With the release of “Norman Fucking Rockwell” on the horizon (at the time of writing), though, we’re going to have to ask ourselves--is that a normal name for an album, or are we all having a collective fever dream?

#original #blog #pop culture criticism #media criticism #it's a blog don't take it seriously

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rem102 · 8 years

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A Little Mistake Messenger

Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3 Ch. 4 Ch. 5 Ch. 6 Ch. 7 Ch. 8 Ch. 9 Ch. 10 Ch. 11

Summary: MC has exciting news to tell Zen and the other RFA members. That is until the MC gets a shock from Zen. MC finds comfort in a close friend, Jumin Han.

Rating: M (language and adult themes)

Tags: Mystic Messenger, Jumin x MC, Zen x MC

Authors note: Guys I tried really really hard to make this at least 10 pages long due to some suggestions that my other chapters are short. I had to go back to Jumins route to find pieces that i could incorporate into this story. Expect Smut in the next chapter. It wont be 10 pages long of a post though sorry to disappoint. I actually wrote the Smut first and then work the plot around it, just didn’t fit in this chapter. I love you guys for patiently waiting and reading still you keep me going!

“I want to be honest with my feelings for you. I had intentions on letting our relationship grow however I ant deny that there is a strong attraction to you. I cannot hold myself back any longer.”

“Jumin-“

I felt his hand on my chin and he pressed his lips firmly against mine. My mind went blank at his tender kiss. I wanted more. I needed more. But I also needed to breathe before I was consumed in his heat. I looked into Jumins eyes that were tenderly looking into my own. I don’t know how long we stood there just looking at each other. Sarah must have let herself out on her own. Jumins hand placed behind my head. My hands holding tightly onto his shirt. I let my guard down and allowed myself to initiate the kiss again and pressed myself into his warm and soft lips. His tongue tracing around my lip as if asking for permission from my lips.

He was the first to pull away his head resting on mine. “I have been wanting to kiss you for a long time now.” He smiled kissing my head as if I were a child. “Did you mean what you said earlier?”

“All of it.” He just held me tightly against his chest. “I have never felt this much before I met you.” He whispered into my ear and I smiled knowing that he was becoming more open with himself and allowing himself to feel. He pressed his lips against mine as if he was trying to consume the air in my lungs. My lips brushing against his over and over again.

I rolled in my bed. Tossing and turning unable to finally get comfortable enough where I could sleep. I tried my sides, stomach, back, and nothing was helping me get to sleep. My head was too busy with so many things. The thoughts keeping me from a restful night. My mind spinning with the events that happened earlier. Jumin and I kissing. Over and over and over again. We didn’t even notice that Sarah left the room. I’m sure in a foul mood and bound to tell Glam Choi what had happened here. I let my fingers touch my lips. They felt swollen from the firm and intense brushing of our warm lips repeatedly.

Jumin’s lips were surprisingly soft, and firm. I never expected Jumin to be an amazing kisser, but I was mistaken. Zen was my first kiss, however I think that Jumin set the standard high for tender and passionate kissing. I buried my face in the pillow trying to calm my racing heart and repeating the moment over and over in my head. I wanted him to keep kissing me, longer, harder, softer, and firmer as long as it was his lips on my own. I tossed again shifting to the other side of the bed. Was Jumin having problems sleeping too? I rolled over once more burying my head under a pillow.

I couldn’t help but want his lips on mine or his tight embrace around my body. I craved his warmth. His touch lingering where he held me and caressed my face. Why was I longing for his touch? I groaned loudly in frustration. What was wrong with me? When did I suddenly want Jumin like this? Was I twisted for wanting him as desperately as I did right now?

I was pregnant with another man’s child clinging to the arms of his singularly most hated person on the planet and I developed feelings for him. Not only that I wanted Jumin more than I needed air. Jumin took the breath from my lungs replacing it with his own. I must look incredibly desperate considering it’s been a few months since Zen and I split up. I pressed my hand to my head in disgust at myself. I can’t even imagine what must be running through Jumin’s mind. I am responsible for putting his emotions completely out there with no regard to how I made him feel. I sat up in bed hopeless that I would find sleep any time soon.

On the one part, at least Jumin told Glam Choi and his father would be more so true now that has made his personal intentions clear. However, that still leaves the sticky situation with me being pregnant with another man’s baby. That issue has yet to be addressed about the repercussions of being in a relationship with someone that was 3 and a half months pregnant. Could he be willing to take in a child that is not his own? Would Mr. Han be angry that Jumin chose such a woman? Not only that I was Jumin’s secretary, I could cringe already at the thought of the tabloids that would be posted. I sighed trying to breathe without the crushing feeling of a weight on my chest. I don’t know what to do anymore. I used to be so sure about everything, but now I just felt lost. There is only so much a person can pretend to be strong before they crack under pressure of it all. More than anything I wanted to talk to Jumin, his comforting voice, his rare laughter.

Staring up at the white ceiling and the slow spinning ceiling fan trying to make sense of all my clouded thoughts. I could still smell Jumin’s scent on my skin. I could almost feel his lips making their way up and down my neck. He was creating trails with his lips down side, creating a path along the way. I shivered at the thought of his breath against my skin. Jumin whispering my name into my ear in a low voice that was enough to make any woman’s knees weak.

I slipped out of the covers that were on the guest bed. I put my head in my hands trying to shake the thoughts. I needed to clear my mind, and thinking about Jumin wasn’t helping the situation any. I got up grabbing a blanket to cover my cold body. I looked out the window at the city around me. The streets emptier than earlier. The lights still bright on the streets below, the moon illuminating the night sky. It was hard to spot the stars from the top of the building. There was still no trace of sunrise any time soon. I sighed letting my fingers create little paths on the glass tracing the street lights and glowing windows.

My stomach growled loudly and I looked down at my feet. “Alright I hear you. Knock it off you two.” I said to my stomach and the baby. I clearly was hungry, but water will have to suffice for now. The lights in the entire house were dark, and not a sound could be heard aside from my feet on the floor making its way to the kitchen.

My feet felt so cold on the black marble kitchen floor. I opened the tall cabinet door to grab a glass and then made my way over to the large stainless steel fridge to fill up my glass with water. I walked over to the window with my glass filled with water. The clear sky now hazy with clouds and a gentle rain falling softly against the glass. The warmer months were coming luckily, and we would only have to deal with the cold and snowy days a short while longer. I could not wait for the spring weather, and with new season a new life. Only a few more months already until the baby is born in the warm summer days.

“MC?” I heard a tired soft voice from behind me call. “What are you doing up?” He asked I could hear the exhaustion in his voice, I couldent bring myself to look at him just yet. Still unsure how to act around him now after he confessed his intentions to me. “I couldn’t sleep,” I told him still watching the drops of rain cover the window. “I couldn’t either,” Jumin admitted and I felt a warmth from behind me. Jumin wrapped his arms around me tightly his head propped on top of my own. “I’m sorry if I’m the reason you are up.” He said quietly, in almost a whisper. I wasn’t sure if I was meant to hear him.

“It’s not just that. There’s a lot running through my mind right now.” I said leaning my head back against his chest. It was comforting just him being close listening to the sound of his voice. His scent was comforting, and the warmth of his embrace wrapped tightly around me. The steady rise and fall of his lungs. I felt at home, as if there was nothing else in the world. It was just the two of us staring out into the darkness trying to find our way. He made this seem as if we have been acting this way for years, just a man holding a woman he cares about. It felt so natural with him.

“I know, and I understand. Which is why I am apologizing.” He said relaxing the longer he held me between his arms. His breathing slowed and his chest slowly rising and falling behind me. I grabbed his arms with my own that were holding onto me wanting him to hold me tighter. “Are you falling asleep standing up?” I asked him softly leaning my head back to try to look at his face. The dark circles under his eyes from staying up late. I felt bad that he was also going through the same similar thoughts in his head. I can’t imagine what was running through his mind. We would have to discuss it tomorrow when sleep has caught up to us. Jumin gave a quiet exhausted groan and he shifted his head on my own. “Not yet,” He said breathlessly his breathing still slow and steady against my back.

“What if I propose we spend the night together?” I suggested and I felt Jumin take a deep intake of air. His arms squeezed me tighter. I managed to move in his tight embrace and hold him with my own arms my face pressed into his bare chest. I didn’t even notice that he was shirtless. His skin felt cool against my flushed skin. Did Jumin always sleep shirtless? He smelled like fresh lemons from his shower. Jumin might refuse the offer trying to be a gentleman about the situation.

Jumin by no means was scrawny or bulky with muscle. He was actually quite toned as apparent from the hidden set of muscles hidden under his suit and tie. Jumin was quite stronger than he appears likely from his workout training at least three times a week. He insisted on keeping up with his nutritionist and physical trainer having to schedule appointments with them weekly. Maybe I should get in touch with his trainer too once the baby is born. My body felt even warmer than before knowing how close he was to me. I wanted to trace my fingers along his chest. I fought the urge to touch him. Jumins hand cupped my head his fingers playing with my messy hair.

“As long as you are near me I think I can calm my thoughts and get some sleep.” He mumbled releasing his arms from around me. “That would be great,” He said grabbing my hand and releasing his arms from around me. I looked at his disheveled appearance. His long grey pants dragged on the floor, and part of his underwear was hanging out from the fabric being loose around his waist. The pant legs bunched up on one side of his leg. Jumins appearance was vastly different from the collected and precise man I know. Jumin didn’t seem to even notice. I looked at his face and noticed the bags under his eyes. I laughed at the sight of his hair. “Jumin, you give new meaning to waking up on the wrong side of the bed” I teased him, and he reached for my head and ruffled my hair. “Now we match bed head,” he said with a tired smile. My face flushed once again at his gesture luckily it was dark enough he might not have seen. Since when did he become such a tease? I looked at his feet and saw that he had one sock missing from one of his feet. I let out a huge yawn rubbing my tired eyes. “Come on sleeping beauty,” Jumin said allowing me to lead the way to his room. Elizabeth the third was curled up on the foot of the bed sleeping comfortably. Her soft purring filled the quiet room.

I felt strange being in his room like this. I had slept in here only once before when Jumin was trying to help me sleep the first time I came here. He held me all night long trying to calm the tears that were pouring from my eyes. This was different. This was much different than before. My heart pounded in my chest, the butterflies in my stomach made it difficult to think.

A familiar feeling that I once knew so clearly. The feeling that was keeping me up tonight. I am utterly in love with Jumin. This would be different because I can’t stop thinking about him. Jumin was the reason for not being able to sleep. I looked at Jumin’s very large bed which was disheveled from his tossing and turning. I wasn’t surprised at the dark shade of purple and sikly fabric that was bunched up from his kicking and turning.

What side did he like to sleep on? I thought not wanting to take his preferred side of the bed. I just hesitantly sat on one side of the bed. Feeling the soft cotton sheets between my fingers. Jumin laid flat in the bed on his back staring at the ceiling. I felt his warm hand grab mine. I looked down at him who was staring at me. “MC,” He said softly in a quiet whisper. “Come here,” I said and I climbed into the bed. He rolled to his side to look at me. Both of us just stared at each other for some time before my hand involuntarily grabbed his hand that was laying against the covers. His fingers interlocking with mine. He pulled my hand to his lips and kissed it softly.

“Jumin,” I said quietly and Jumin pulled up the blankets that were tangled at his feet. “try to get some sleep MC, and I will be here.” He said his eyes closing. “I will always be here,” he said my eyes starting to feel heavy with him next to me. Our hands still wrapped loosely together. I could feel his warm breath on my hand as he drifted off to sleep. I closed my eyes, focusing on the warmth from his hand and the steady breathing next to me. He was here, and I felt safe.

I awoke to the sunrise beaming through the top of the sky rise buildings. An alarm buzzing off in the distance in the room. I had rolled to the other side of the bed. A familiar warmth was draped across my growing stomach, and a soft snore against my skin. Jumin had curled up into a ball against my back. His head was nestled on my neck his hand on my semi-noticeable bump. He was still sound asleep ignoring the sound of his alarm.

I reached down to touch his hand with my own. His body tensed and then relaxed at the gesture. “Five more minutes,” He mumbled barely audible as he snuggled closer to my back. “Jumin I have to get ready for work.” I said hoping the motivation to get ready would persuade him to release me from his tight grasp. “5 more minutes,” he said pulling me tighter. I smiled giving into his simple request. I let my fingers trace small shapes on the top of his hand. I somehow needed to get through the day without blushing at anything he says today. “You smell nice,” he said moving his head from his preferred spot. He rolled over to silence the alarm that was still going off.

“Good morning Jumin,” and I stretched out in his comfortable bed. He forcefully turned off his alarm and reached back over to where I was laying and pulled me even tighter against him. “This is nice.” He said nuzzling his face into my neck sending chills up my spine. “That was the most peaceful night of sleep I have gotten in a while.” I looked at him he was looking like a completely different person than how he is at work or in front of his father.

“How’s the baby?” He asked hesitant to keep his hand on my stomach and he moved it away quickly once realizing his position on my body. “The baby is fine, hasn’t started kicking yet.” I said and he stared at me interested. Did I have morning breath?

“You should start to feel it soon according to that book I was reading,” He said finally sitting up in bed. “We are going to be late for work if we don’t get going,” Jumin said with a cheerful attitude and a complete change in his normal attitude. “Mr. Han I apologize for being late my boss kept me trapped all morning long.” I teased and he chuckled rolling to his back.

I rolled off the bed and snuck out to let Jumin stick to more of his normal morning routine. I did sleep better than usual. I dug through my drawers to find something that would not give away the baby bump I was trying desperately to conceal. That was the last thing I needed right now. I know my clothes were going to start becoming problematic soon. Pencil skirts and tight blouses were beginning to be tighter against my skin making it difficult to move around the office. Heels would soon be impossible to wear soon with swollen feet. Heels were torture already let alone forcing a pregnant woman work in them for eight hours straight. I settled for a pink floral top with white flowers, and my favorite black pencil skirt.

Jaehee was returning home sometime today from her vacation finally. I missed our long conversations we would have about the RFA and everything else going on in life. I grabbed my work phone and my normal phone and went out into the kitchen. I checked my email, before checking the RFA app once again before we would leave his penthouse to ensure that his daily schedule were confirmed. The chatroom was filled with messages from Yoosung, Seven, and Saeran discussing the next RFA party. I had Jumin’s cup of coffee made for him. The dark aroma made me miss drinking coffee every morning.

I quickly logged into the messenger to respond to the questions that were being flung around about the future of RFA parties. Maybe I should go bring dinner to Seven and Yoosungs place to discuss their ideas further. Since soon I will have a few more days off now that Jaehee and I would be splitting the work load. No one was on the messenger this early in the morning as of late. Not even V has logged in in quite some time.

--MC has logged into the chatroom—

MC: I know I suck and haven’t been on the messenger a lot recently. I was thinking we make it a competition to split our fundraising to help two organizations instead of just one.

MC: But I really like the idea of a friendly competition Yoosung, which would be great. Maybe we can split up into teams and who ever raises the most money gets five thousand more dollars to their organization. We have a lot more interest now that we are more known for our huge parties so we can raise more than enough for a significant donation for two organizations instead of just one.

MC: Seven, no we can’t bring Elly, but if you could do some research on potential organizations that we could donate to that would be amazing. Saeran no worries we will always have ice cream just for you. I’ll text you guys later, I’ll bring dinner over sometime this week.

-MC logged out of the chatroom-

Jumin came out ensuring his cufflinks were buttoned into place. “MC,” He said with a half-smile grabbing the coffee I held out for him in my hand. “You look beautiful,” Jumin said making me blush as he leaned in closely to kiss my lips. I was taken aback at how natural he made it seem. It was as if we were a married couple and have always started our mornings this way. “Jumin,” I said surprised at his gesture.

“I want to keep this relationship under wraps from the public for just a little while longer. Until I sort this situation out with Glam Choi and Sarah out with my father. I’m sure those two have already plotted with reporters about Sarah and I’s ‘engagement’.” Jumin said sipping the coffee. “I also want you to decide what you want to do.”

“What do you mean?” I asked grabbing my work bag from where I had left it.

“Just because I confessed that I want you to be my lover does not mean that you feel the same way does it not? I don’t expect any answers right now.” He said casually grabbing his phone from off the counter. “I promised you that I would discuss these things with you that I thought were best for you did I not?”

“You did.” He nodded looking at his watch on his arm. “Driver Kim is outside.” I said buttoning my coat to avoid the cold. “Shall we?” He asked holding the door open for me. “Thank you,” I said trying to sort through what he was offering me. Jumin was thinking about my feelings as well. I haven’t told him how I feel did I? I was hesitant because our friendship was important to me. I didn’t want to lose someone else I care about.

I didn’t even notice the ride to the office. What if I lose Jumin too? I cared for Jumin, and more than anything I didn’t want to see him hurt. He used to be so cold and expressionless. It was the front he put on in every interaction he had ever had. Was he really changed for good? He was expressing himself more and more, and talking more other than C&R and work. The fact that Jumin had considered my own feelings in this situation was a huge step for him. Jaehee won’t know what to do with herself.

“Jumin,” I asked in the car as we approached the building towards C&R entrance. “Can we go on a date?” I looked at him as he read over the business briefings. “If you would like. How is tomorrow work for you?” He said writing something down on the papers in front of him. The light from the sun made the diamonds in the pen cast beams in the car.

“You have a meeting at 4:30 but it should only be an hour meeting for you.” I said flipping through the calendar I had in my bag. “Perfect, you can leave before the meeting and get ready and I’ll meet you at home then.” He said with a smile on his face.

“I’ve never been on a date before.” He said not even looking up from his paper. “You haven’t gone on a date with a woman before? That’s hard to believe.” I said penciling in our date for the evening tomorrow. “I’ve had meetings with female business investors to discuss corporate dealings, but not a date. The women might have looked at it as a date however, that was not my intention.” He said putting the documents in the folder and his pen in his jacket pocket.

“Mr. Han we are here.” Driver Kim said and got out of the car to open the door. He opened my door first, before walking over to Jumin’s side.

Jumin’s POV

I couldn’t help staring at her. Every move she made caught my eye. I wasn’t purposely trying to stare at her as she walked into my office in that tight skirt. I shook my head looking down at my papers. It wasn’t just the skirt it was everything, she made everything look good. It was hard to focus on work when she was in the room.

It wasn’t her fault that I can’t help myself. She seemed distracted recently after I had kissed her in front of Sarah that day. MC was constantly keeping herself busy now that she requested me to take her on a date.

Any comment I would mention about the penthouse, or about dinner tonight her face would turn a bright shade of red. Was she feeling ill? Was I working her too hard? Did I place too much pressure on her about Sarah and Glam?

Today, she wore a white wrap top that dipped to her breasts. Having worked late last night I wasn’t able to share the same bed with her as we did the night before. I had driver Kim pick her up at the penthouse because I came in so early to review documents for the meeting today. The investigators digging up information I could use against Sarah and Glam Choi and end the idea of a marriage to a woman I do not care for. Surely once my father sees the documents he will be satisfied with my choice in my own personal relationships. I wasn’t going to let Glams use of the media sway my father, or interest in the company. I had to remain calm and collected to gather my thoughts on how I was going to accomplish this feat. Most importantly I could not let MC know that I was looking into this information, as to not implicate her involvement in the situation. If they were to think MC was involved then she could be seen as working against my father’s wishes. I did not want the media to drag her into this mess they had created.

MC had enough to worry about already. The baby, her involvement with Zen, and now this. I had to protect her from those that would seek to destroy the one thing that made me genuinely happy. Her kind words and gentle spirit kept me strong with the drama unfolding. The last thing I wanted was the reporters to piece together that MC was carrying Zens child. It would ruin her reputation forever. I was ultimately hoping to rid my life of Sarah’s constant interference in business affairs, and release the hold Glam Choi had on my father. That the relationship with my own father would not be manipulated from his choice in a partner and lies she stirred up about my character. They would not look into MC’s past and force their hand to chase her away from me.

MC had curled her hair today in a different style I have yet to see on her. She came into my office with her usual work expression and seriousness in her tone. “Good Morning Mr. Han,” She said holding a pile of papers in her small hands. MC walked over to my desk and handed me today’s schedule. She had taken so much time into color coordinating and highlighting important meetings, and fitting in time for a lunch break. The most important meetings were blocked out in red, and meetings that were less important in green, meetings with shareholders in orange, and staff meetings in purple. She would give me one in the morning and one in the afternoon to look at tomorrow’s outline, which was always much different the next day from arranging the meetings. She worked so hard, and was planning another RFA party on top of it all. All the way at the end of the page in a rosy red color was a note that said ‘Not Business date’ and I smiled at her gesture.

I was right in allowing her to work here while giving Jaehee a break from working herself to death. MC and Jaehee the only two assistants that were not turned away due to their hard work.

“Jaehee will be updated on all of the business dealings soon?” I asked her and she nodded. “Jaehee will be in tomorrow to update herself and will be back working for you as soon as possible.” MC said handing me the first briefing packet. The morning was usually spent signing important documents to confirm expenses for the company. The afternoon meetings with shareholders and investors. The afternoon discussing profits and areas in the market in which we are losing money. MC reached to put the papers on my desk. She dropped a folder on the floor and bent down to pick it up. I put my hand on the other pile of papers so that they would not fall on the floor. She reached for the papers on my desk. Softly touching my hand as she reached to hold onto the papers. I trapped her hand beneath my own. MC didn’t pull away, her long brown hair falling into her face. I looked at her face and she stared into my own.

It was her that leaned in ever so slowly our lips inches away from touching. I wanted her more than I could describe. I needed to be a gentleman and calm my nerves. It was much too early to be thinking such thoughts, and yet I craved her touch, her lips, and her taste lingering on my mouth. Her soft fingers tracing shapes on my chest and my hands. I craved the feeling of waking up next to her, her soft presence making my mornings more enjoyable.

“Jumin,” she said breathless and I slowly reached my arm up to pull her lips onto my own. She sent a chill down my spine as my name left her lips. I wanted her to say my name more. When a loud knock interrupted us both. MC jumped and quickly pulled away, a shade of red. I cleared my throat before responding to the person who was knocking at the door. I lived to see her face turn a bright shade of red from teasing her.

“You may enter,” I said and the door opened to a familiar face. “Jaehee,” MC said walking closer to the door. I saw her smile as Jaehee came into my office door. “Ms. Kang,” I said standing up to greet her as well. Jaehee’s hair had gotten much longer than before. I would need Jaehee now more than ever if I were to protect MC from Glam and Sarah’s attacks on her character and virtue. “Jaehee it’s so good to see you again.” MC said reaching her arms out to hug her. Jaehee smiled, which a rare sight was considering her professional demeanor prior to her paid vacation time. Jaehee cleared her throat, “Mr. Han, thank you for the time off, and I hope I can assist you still as I once did.”

“Of course Ms. Kang, I will need both of your assistance to help the company run smoothly.” I told her and she bowed her head towards me in respect. “MC why don’t you fill Jaehee in on everything here in the office while I attend the meeting.” I told MC and the two women both looked surprised. “But don’t you need me to take notes?”

“MC I am more than capable of taking notes on my own.” I told her and smiled slightly. “If I do not see you later, I will see you at home later tonight.” I told MC and her face blushed once again, and Jaehee had a very concerned look on her face. “Mr. Han,” they both said and MC left the office with Jaehee in toe. I took a deep breath spinning in my chair to face the large open window. I just needed to get by until the end of the day.

I locked the door to my office and ensured security was tighter than ever. MC was not in the building most importantly, and neither was my father, Sarah, or Glam Choi. There was to be no word on our dealings here and information I looked into. Saeyoung had recommended the private investigators to assist me with digging up records on Sarah and Glam Choi. Saeyoung helped as well but these people were not individuals I wanted to be associated with for too long due to their nature. The two investigators sat down in the office chairs dressed casually as I had requested of them to business appearances.

I was fortunate that MC didn’t ask about who I was meeting with. I lied to MC telling her that this meeting was planned for months ago by Jaehee and she would not have to worry about the details. I would explain everything to her when the ordeal was over.

“Mr. Han we have the evidence you inquired about from Glam Choi and Sarah.” The pair of investigators said. “Your Hacker and our informed sources claim have found that Sarah has a large amount of debt to various people.”

I scanned over the documents the two reporters have gathered for me. “Many of her investments were into her failing business and fashion line.” Along with information Saeyoung had found regarding Sarah’s background. “They have tried this before on other companies?” I asked the pair who looked quite pleased at their work. “Sarah has tried this plot before on smaller business owners, conning them for their money and bankrupting the poor men.” I folded my hands together on my desk. Hopefully now my father would see the fraud the two actually are.

“It seems that Sarah is not Glam Choi’s student and teacher after all.” They said and my eyes widened reading the report. This was the nail in the coffin. I would be better saving this information if I desperately need it. Maybe then my relationship with my father would be stronger once again.

“They have been planning this plot together once Sarah’s business went bankrupt.” The female reporter said handing me more documents in regards to Sarah and Glam Choi’s relationship. I read over the articles that were dated between today and yesterday about Sarah and my relationship together. I threw them down on my desk disgusted at the lies they were feeding the media outlets about our marriage. Jumin Han and Sarah hottest couple of the year? One article read, Billionaire Playboy No More? Another junk news report read. Wedding of the Year. I laughed not wanting to read what statements Sarah gave the public about her and me.

“Thank you for your time,” I stood from my desk more than satisfied with the information I had received. I now had something to fight back with against Sarah and Glam Choi. I reached out to shake the hands of the people that helped gather information. They nodded and took their stand to leave. “I hope everything goes well for you Mr. Han.” The investigator said with a nod of his head.

“I do as well, thank you for your help.” I told them and escorted the private investigators away. Everything would be fine now. I grabbed my phone looking up the number for my lawyers.

“Hello, this is Jumin Han CEO of C&R Corporation, I would like to speak with my lawyers immediately to file a lawsuit.” I sighed walking around the office for a stretch. I looked at my watch it read 15:00 PM, and I needed to leave for MC’s date immediately. “Yes I can wait until tomorrow morning. Thank you for your time.” I grabbed my belongings and rushed out of the office so I would make it home in time for our reservations. Our first date. My heart was racing out of my chest at the thought.

_______________________________________________________________________

I opened the door to the penthouse which was strangely quiet considering she was getting ready. I half expected her to be playing loud music and dancing around the penthouse carefree. “Where did she go?” I said to myself wondering where she was. The news was excellent, and I would be able to get rid of Sarah and Glam Choi quite easily now that the information I had was enough proof to convince my father. What better time to celebrate than now?

“MC?” I called for her and I didn’t hear her. I put the flowers I got for her down on the counter. I found a vase and a pair of scissors I cut the bottom of the stems and placed them in a vase as I had seen MC do before with flowers she bought at the store. I have learned so much for her, and still have far to go.

“Jumin, I didn’t hear you,” she stopped mid-sentence before continuing “Are those for me?” She smiled brightly as she peered from around the corner of the room. She was holding Elizabeth the third in her arms, who looked freshly groomed, her fur brushed thoroughly. I noticed the large purple bow tied around Elizabeth the Thirds neck. She let out a loud meow at my sight, and hopping out of MC arms to rub her white fur on mine. “She looked like she needed to have her fur brushed, and I more than happily helped her get ready too.” MC said smiling as she came out from behind the wall.

I smiled looking at her. MC had left me speechless. She looked more beautiful than she did earlier at work. How does she do that? She was wearing a lavender dress that accentuated all her features. The dress stopped just above her knees, and her dress flowing with every move she made. The top did not have sleeves, but the fabric was tied in the back in a halter design. Her hair still curled from earlier at work and she pulled up the sides of her hair leaving her neck exposed. I reached down to pet Elizabeth the Third getting a full look at her figure. I fought off the urge to place my lips down her throat and leave her breathless like before. My face felt warm to the touch and I stood up letting Elizabeth run around the house. “How do I look Jumin?”

She asked giving me a spin as I looked at her, and she smiled. She walked over to the vase of the flowers I had just placed for her. She bent over to smell them. “Beautiful as always, MC.” I scratched the back of my head trying to hide my reddened face. I would describe the way she made me feel as happiness and warmth.

A feeling that was unknown to me until more recently. MC had taught me what the feeling was inside of my heart that I have not felt before. It was similar feeling to the first moment I saw her. Her soft features, her gentle smile at the first RFA party. I never understood what the feeling was until she came back into my life once more. She looked happy, and I intended to ensure that she remains happy by my side. Her kind words have turned my cold emotionless heart to one that craves her warmth by my side, her kindness has showed me that there is someone out there who cares for me, and not my fortune. She had nothing, and opened her heart to me and I opened my heart to her in return. I wanted nothing else but keeping her by my side for as long as I could.

Everything was falling into place, and now I just needed to take my plan into action and ensure my intentions with MC are pure to my father. Ensure that no one would dare harm MC or my father.

“Shall we go then?” Her voice broke through my thoughts as she put on her black coat around her bare shoulders. “Yes let us go then.” I held my hand out for her and she grabbed it with her own. Her fingers intertwining with my own. Yes, yes, I wanted to spend my life with her. Of that I was sure.

Tag Requests: If you wish to be tagged for updates please comment below or feel free to message me! I’m sorry if I have forgotten anyone the list keeps growing and sometimes hard for me to find everyone that wants tagged so I apologize in advance.

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yourdailyrecord · 8 years

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The Magnetic Fields - 50 Song Memoir (tracks/review)

The Magnetic Fields - 50 Song Memoir

Now here is a genuine feast of a record. Honestly, it might be better to consume this meal over multiple sittings. But, if you try to do it all in one go, there's a sort of wonderful build-up that occurs. As Stephen Merritt tells the stories of the first fifty years of his life over the course of fifty songs (each titled for a year from 1966 to 2015), the variety and the richness of the emotional experience being recounted and represented in the music becomes very affecting as it's layered on. I found myself a bit choked up by the time I got to 1983's tune: Foxx And I. It's just lovely how there are so many contradictions in mood. There's humour and there's depression, there's uncertainty and there's confidence, there's nostalgia and there's regret. It's a lot like life, really.

So yeah, it's great when viewed as a whole. But that's not to say that it isn't great moment to moment as well. The songwriting is way more consistent than anyone would expect on a collection this large. As ever, Merritt's employing his signature baritone to rumble out simple pop and folk melodies laid on top of ramshackle electronics and rhythms, or earthy acoustics. But the band shifts it's style around a bit here, often to match the era that each song is ostensibly set in. I hear folk and psychedelia in the '60s, glam, disco and blues rock in the '70s, and the New Romantics and synth-pop in the '80s. From the '90s on, the music seems to echo whatever the Magnetic Fields' sound was in the year in question. It almost doubles as a history of pop music itself.

There's a lot of stuff on here, so nearly everyone's bound to find to something they like. I happened to like just about all of it. Strongly recommended.

Highlights: '73: It Could Have Been Paradise • '83: Foxx And I • '08: Surfin'

SAMPLE TRACKS below via YouTube (direct link).

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If you liked this record - maybe you'll like:

Jens Lekman - Life Will See You Now

Sun Kil Moon - Common As Light and Love Are Red Valleys of Blood

The Fresh & Onlys - Early Years Anthology

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biofunmy · 5 years

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Sophia Hutchins Isn’t Dating Caitlyn Jenner

Keeping up with the new besties in the Kardashian-Jenner entertainment complex can be a full-time job.

But even in their social media panopticon, Sophia Hutchins stands apart, and not just because of her ice-goddess looks and self-promotional savvy. Sometime in 2017, tabloid stories began linking Ms. Hutchins to Caitlyn Jenner, first as “friends” and “gal pals” who shopped and vacationed together.

Before long, the tabloids said that the two were romantically involved, and often pointed out their age difference: Ms. Jenner, who is 70, was apparently dating someone younger than her 24-year-old daughter, Kendall. (Ms. Hutchins is 23.) Some reports went so far as to say they were engaged.

“Who is Caitlyn Jenner’s fiancée Sophia Hutchins?” read a headline in The Daily Mirror in 2018. ”

Ms. Hutchins has not exactly hurried to dispel those rumors. She has posted selfies on Instagram from what looks like Ms. Jenner’s bed, with the caption “home sweet home.” Another time, she created an Instagram Story and took questions from followers; when one asked, “Are you in a relationship?,” she replied coyly, “Oh yes!” without naming anyone.

But Ms. Hutchins, the C.E.O. of a start-up beauty brand, has never commented directly on their relationship, until now.

On a recent Monday afternoon, Ms. Hutchins was sipping green tea in the lobby of the Mercer hotel in the SoHo neighborhood of Manhattan. Dressed in a black Alice + Olivia turtleneck, she had straight blond hair that framed her slate-blue eyes and gravity-defying cheekbones. She bore an uncanny resemblance to Ivanka Trump.

Ms. Hutchins grinned at the comparison to the first daughter. “I’ll take it,” she said, adding that she is not a registered Republican. “I think Ivanka is gorgeous.”

Seated with perfect posture, Ms. Hutchins expressed emotion sparingly and came across as analytical and preternaturally poised. She was keen to discuss her beauty product, Lumasol, a sunscreen mist she plans to release next year. We would get to that.

But first: Are she and Ms. Jenner really a couple?

Ms. Hutchins folded her hands on the table, set her blue eyes to stun and said in a matter-of-fact manner: “We were never romantically involved.”

So why have the tabloid reports persisted? “Because we weren’t addressing it,” she said. “I don’t feel a need to address my sex life, quite frankly, unless I want to.”

She took a sip of tea and, with her firm tone, indicated that the matter was closed.

Class President to Celebrity Manager

“My grandfather, a rocket engineer at Boeing, was the greatest influence in my life,” she said. “My grandparents stepped in and helped out by sending me to an elite college prep school,” and later to Pepperdine University in Malibu, Calif., in part because it offered the best financial aid package.

Slightly built and studious, Ms. Hutchins initially identified as a gay man. At college, she was active in student government and planned a career in finance. But in 2016, during her junior year, she announced on Facebook without explanation that she was resigning as the student class president.

A few weeks later, she gave an interview to the Graphic, a Pepperdine student newspaper, explaining that she was taking a semester off to transition. “I’ve always had the question of ‘Do I want to transition from male to female?’” Ms. Hutchins was quoted as saying. “I never thought a lot about doing it until I got into college because I was able to break away from my family and started to establish my own identity.”

She regrets the interview, saying that she feels overly defined by her gender transition. “Had I not done that interview, I never would have come out,” she said. “I would just live my life. Now people can’t really see past the trans thing.”

She also told the newspaper that two things inspired her to transition: the support of her friends and family, and seeing Ms. Jenner talk about her journey on “20/20.”

Ms. Hutchins would soon meet her inspiration. After returning to college, she embraced a newly invigorated social life and popularity. “I blended right back in on my first day back,” she said. “The guys were like, ‘Did you transfer in? I’ve never seen you before.’”

Her new lifestyle also included a hair-and-makeup team. (Asked why a college student would hire personal grooming stylists, a spokeswoman for Ms. Hutchins, Kristen Shea, said: “In L.A., regardless of whether you are a student, most everyone has hair and makeup people. I mean, glam squads are almost a given.”)

One member of her glam squad was working with Ms. Jenner and thought the two would hit it off. “We were introduced through my makeup artist at a M.A.C. photo shoot,” Ms. Hutchins said. “Having a similar sense of humor, we spent the entire time laughing and ended up meeting for brunch, and we’ve been great friends ever since.”

Ms. Hutchins, who had become disillusioned with a career in finance, also sensed an opportunity. Ms. Jenner’s former wife, Kris Jenner, was no longer her business manager. And although Ms. Hutchins had no relevant experience, she was persuasive and ambitious enough to convince Ms. Jenner to hire her.

“I saw nobody was managing her, and there were all these people taking massive advantage,” Ms. Hutchins said. “And I was saying, ‘Caitlyn, if I don’t step in here and start managing you, you’re going to go broke.’”

They quickly developed a level of trust and, during her senior year, Ms. Hutchins became Ms. Jenner’s manager, taking a 10 percent cut. She also moved into Ms. Jenner’s ridge-top home in Malibu, the same four-bedroom, 11-acre compound where the “20/20” interview took place.

Since signing on, Ms. Hutchins said she has taken the lead on negotiating a raft of deals, including paid speeches for T-Mobile and the Harvard Leadership Summit, and before Britain’s House of Commons for Channel 4.

She also negotiated Ms. Jenner’s recent appearance on “‘I’m a Celebrity … Get me Out of Here,’” a reality show in Britain, “which has been reported to be the highest fee in the show’s history,” Ms. Hutchins said. “We made a lot of money together and still do.”

Approached for comment, Ms. Jenner declined to be interviewed, but her publicist emailed a statement: “Over the last few years, Sophia has been my best friend, family and confidant. She is one of the top minds in her field. Her value in my life is undeniable. The sky is the limit with her entrepreneurial spirit.”

Her ‘Extended Family’

“We were talking about what’s missing in the market and I said, ‘Why can’t I get a makeup-setting mist with SPF?’” she said, referring to a spray used to help makeup last.

After months of market research, testing and pitch meetings, Lumasol is scheduled to begin selling next April. The mist will be priced between $30 and $50 and will be packaged in a bottle that changes color when exposed to ultraviolet rays, nudging consumers to spray early and often.

“We consider ourselves a health tech company because we see SPF as the first entry point to tackling the health crisis which is skin cancer,” Ms. Hutchins said.

Being associated with the Jenner-Kardashian clan probably doesn’t hurt. “I’m on good terms with all the family, but I’m closest with Kris, Kim, Kylie and Kendall,” said Ms. Hutchins, who recently posted a picture of herself to her 100,000 Instagram followers from a family dinner for Ms. Jenner’s birthday, standing between Kim and Kourtney Kardashian.

“And anytime I needed a meeting with someone that I couldn’t get, Caitlyn could get it for me,” she added.

She has raised $3 million in seed funding, including from Greycroft, a venture firm in New York. “If you attach an influencer with a huge following to a consumer product, it’s like having your own media channel,” Ian Sigalow, a founder of Greycroft said in an interview with Forbes this year. “Lumasol’s starting on third base — they’re going to take off.”

But Ms. Hutchins is not counting on free promotion from the women she calls her “extended family.” “If I want someone in that clan to promote the product, they’re going to be compensated,” she said. “And these girls are not cheap.”

Ms. Hutchins set down her tea and checked the time; she was fitting the interview into a busy day of meetings. When her phone rang, she didn’t hesitate to pick up. It was Ms. Jenner calling to report on repairs to her private plane, a Beechcraft Baron turboprop.

“I need to get to San Francisco from L.A. on Thursday super-early, and Caitlyn is flying me,” Ms. Hutchins said.

Hearing from Ms. Jenner seemed to cheer her up. The call also provided an opening to return to more personal questions. If she is not dating Ms. Jenner, is there another special someone?

Turns out, there is. Ms. Hutchins confided that she just started dating a 30-year-old gentleman who graduated from Harvard and works on Wall Street. No other details would be forthcoming. But for the second time that afternoon, she softened her gaze, looked up and smiled.

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mrmichaelchadler · 6 years

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Obsession and The Void: The Performances of Christian Bale

In an early scene in Mary Harron’s “American Psycho,” youthful and Adonis-like stockbroker Patrick Bateman (Christian Bale) runs through his almost pornographically detailed morning routine: a workout with 1,000 crunches, an array of hair and skincare products, all in an exact order to present “an idea of a Patrick Bateman.” Bale performs the scene with a blank fastidiousness, showing no joy or even stray morning wakeup feelings of exhaustion or boredom, all while narrating in a calm but detached tone of a magazine readout. There is a similar scene in the opening of “American Hustle” that functions as a parody, in which Bale’s con man Irving Rosenthal, flabby and balding, puts just as much work into maintaining his elaborately pathetic combover with a far more careful level of focus, a sense that what he’s doing to prepare himself has a real function. The two men are at different ends of the food chain, one obscenely wealthy, the other scrambling to get by; one is cold and unfeeling, the other empathetic and desperately human. Their commonality, then, is how much they have to work to do just to maintain a sense of self, to show that they have a reason for being, even if only to those on the outside looking in.

That’s in line with much of the praise, and sometimes the criticisms, of Bale’s career. He’s undoubtedly skillful at reshaping his own appearance—often gaining or losing weight to extreme degrees—but the focus is frequently put on the surface external appearances, lauding how he’s become “unrecognizable” (both an exaggeration and more accurately praise for the makeup crew) or knocking his work for being too focused on nailing an impression or a physical quality at the expense of emotional connection. This misunderstands Bale’s strengths, however: he is an actor for whom physical transformation is but an anchoring facet to a depiction of obsession, be it Patrick Bateman’s pathological need to project normality to hide his depravity in “American Psycho,” Irving Rosenthal’s need to project success to attain some sad measure of it in “American Hustle,” or Dicky Eklund’s fixation on his one brush with greatness as a fighter to stave off the truth of his all-consuming crack addiction in “The Fighter.” They’re people who feel a deep need to construct or pursue some idealized form of self as a way to succeed or survive. It’s reflected in Bale’s own process, in which he seemingly constructs a façade, an attempt to hide himself, in order to find something authentic in his roles. The prosthetics, the hair changes and the punishing fluctuations in weight can sometimes be a crutch, but they’re also directly tied to the ring of truth in his best performances.

Bale’s new film, the Dick Cheney biopic “Vice,” has drawn fiercely polarized responses, with criticisms thrown both at typical Great Man Movie problems (lumpy one-thing-after-another structure, an over-explanatory script) and writer-director Adam McKay’s own additions (divisive fourth wall breaks and an uneasy tone that walks a thin line between “lacerating” and “lecturing”). The actor's deceptively sensitive work as Cheney, however, does showcase much of what makes him interesting as a performer beyond the bodily transformations and close attention to detail: he plays people with a single-minded obsession that outweighs other concerns, a need to pursue it at all costs or else fall into the void of their lives, and a self-presentation meant to prop it up.

One could look at any number of Bale performances to highlight this, but these five best discuss the range of emotions and tones he’s able to explore while exemplifying this theme.

"Empire of the Sun" / Warner Bros. Pictures

1987: “Empire of the Sun”

When Steven Spielberg cast 12-year-old Christian Bale as Jamie “Jim” Graham in his adaptation of J.G. Ballard’s semi-autobiographical novel, he had no way of knowing his young lead actor would grow up to become one of the biggest stars of his generation. Even so, “Empire of the Sun,” the story of an English boy coming of age in Japanese-occupied China, marks the breakthrough of an extraordinarily gifted young actor, one with a real skill for sketching out the death of innocence. Bale’s early scenes show a classic Spielbergian dreamer, one whose fixation on airplanes shows no real understanding of the ideology behind the battles or the life-or-death situations that people find themselves in. He looks to everyday misery (beggars in the street) with curiosity but not compassion, and his casual cruelty to his family’s Chinese servant (a matter-of-fact, disinterested “you have to do what I say” when told his mom doesn’t want him eating before bed) is less out of a sense of superiority than a total lack of understanding of how his privilege dictates her life, to the point where he's completely shocked when that same servant slaps him after the Japanese invade and she no longer has to pretend to respect him.

As Jamie falls in with John Malkovich’s savvy crook Basie and they’re both sent to an internment camp, Bale shows a child’s adaptability, rushing through the camp and carrying out chores to win over everyone from his mentor to his captors. He’s at once a young opportunist and an earnest child, one whose mimicry of Malkovich and company (adopted American clothing, repeated jokes without understanding their cruelty) never quite gives way to comprehending that they don’t care about him (his sincere declaration that Basie is his friend is met with little more than amusement from the older man). At the same time, his admiration for the Japanese—a childlike fascination both with their aircraft and their sense of honor—protects him from the harsh realities of the camp, where people are beaten and starved or left to disease. In a late scene, Bale’s shift from unbridled joy at seeing bombers in action (hugging himself, cheering) to emotional breakdown after he’s rebuked by an elder (“I can’t remember what my parents look like”) show how much he’s depended on a fantastical sense of the world to escape how little he has left. His adoption of American habits and Basie’s theory of survivalism, paired with his salutes and bows to Japanese military men with a palpable sense of respect, is a child’s way of playing war games, an ideology- and nationality-blind view of war straight out of boys’ games and comics. Jamie has to act it out, or else realize that there’s little honor in doing whatever it takes to survive and that he’s unlikely to make it out in one piece. If the film and performance show a child’s resilience, they also show how quickly their views of the world can crumble, yielding only pain.

"Velvet Goldmine" / Miramax

1998: “Velvet Goldmine”

A few notable exceptions like his cocky performance in “Newsies” aside, Bale spent much of the ‘90s giving quietly sensitive, soulful supporting performances that he’s since only reprised on occasion (most effectively for Terrence Malick, who yielded one of his very best performances as John Rolfe in “The New World,” where Bale somehow makes unfailing kindness magnetic). Bale is very good in literary adaptations such as Gillian Armstrong’s “Little Women” (as the charming, lovelorn Laurie), but his best work of this period is in Todd Haynes’ “Velvet Goldmine” as Arthur Stuart, a music journalist reminiscing about his self-discovery as a gay man in the glam rock era. Haynes’ film borrows its structure from “Citizen Kane,” attempting to find how Jonathan Rhys-Meyers pop superstar Brian Slade disappeared, but it also works as a “Kane” for Bale’s character, who’s introduced in the middle of a youthful, “A Hard Day’s Night” rush to a concert, all teased hair and youthful excitement. Then we’re yanked to 1984, and his eyes are sunken, his demeanor sad and reticent. What happened that brought him to this place?

Bale’s greatness as a physical actor is often yoked to his extreme dedication to losing and gaining pounds, but “Velvet Goldmine” can serve as an example of how he can use his body to tell a story. He plays teenage Arthur with a measure of shyness that suggests a boy who hasn’t yet found an outlet for his dreams or a place to be himself; he hangs his head in embarrassment when he’s told his musical hero is a “poof” and that he himself is “disgusting.” Contrast that with his first strut on the streets of London minutes later, in a tight purple shirt, a moment of freedom that’s both liberating and frightening, his gait more open but still uncertain. The rest of his journey in the ‘70s scenes of the film is a navigation between those two poles of repression—his heaving frame as his father shames him for his homosexuality—and short-lived freedom, including a first romantic connection with rock star Curt Wild (Ewan McGregor). It makes his scenes in 1984 all the more painful, in which a withdrawn, older (and older-looking) Arthur shuffles through the streets, looking as if he’s trying to blend in with everything rather than stand out on his own.

Bale plays the role not as someone who’s found a permanent new identity and acceptance, but rather as someone who, briefly, saw a better life and the first stabs of individuality in the music and fashions that meant so much to him, before those small gains were rolled back and a new, more powerful form of repression turned his world to gray. Perhaps Arthur wouldn’t have stayed glammed up his whole life—most people don’t look and dress like they did when they were teenagers—but he’s stuck in a point in time where he can’t even find a modest form of self-expression. Bale the actor locates that moment of temporary self-discovery and shows just how it’s so intoxicating: it’s a first assertion of self, even in an idealized form. That adult Arthur can’t fully break from that fixation is understandable; that he should be required to totally deny any semblance of it is tragic.

"American Psycho" / Lions Gate Films

2000: “American Psycho”

Bale really arrived as a Great Actor™ with “American Psycho,” the first film that showcased his ability to dramatically transform his appearance for a role. Bale hasn’t shaken his attraction to these challenges, and while he usually manages to transcend the stunt-y nature of these roles (“The Fighter,” “Rescue Dawn,” the otherwise tedious “The Machinist”), there are times where the trick is more impressive than the performance (“I'm Not There,” the “Dark Knight” trilogy). Still, none of this detracts from his work as psychopathic yuppie Patrick Bateman, which remains his most iconic performance.

“American Psycho” director Mary Harron has spoken about Bale being inspired by a Tom Cruise talk show appearance in which the star displayed “intense friendliness with nothing behind the eyes,” and the film itself draws parallels between him and President Ronald Reagan’s use of sunny optimism to sell cruel policies. Either comparison works: in his public life, Bateman has a near-permanent tone of unfailing cheerfulness, discussing the importance of ending apartheid and world hunger as he flashes a killer smile. His eyes, however, always have the glint of predator, a coldness that only occasionally breaks through in creepy remarks, delivered with the same psychotic chipperness (“Not if you want to keep your spleen”) that might not hide their perverted nature if any of his friends were a little less self-absorbed and a little more perceptive.

What’s brilliant about Bale and Harron’s conception of Bateman is that they’re able to convey the character’s essential loneliness without losing the humor or downplaying the grotesque nature of his (possibly imaginary) crimes. Most talk about Bale’s performance focuses on his informercial slick delivery of Huey Lewis factoids before chopping up Jared Leto with an axe. More telling, however, is his scene with Chloe Sevigny’s secretary, in which Bale shifts from blithe morbidity (bringing up Ted Bundy’s dog, Lassie) to psychotic fixation on consumerism (lashing out at Sevigny for almost leaving an ice cream-covered spoon on his coffee table) to insincere, monotone openness (“I guess you could say I just want to have a meaningful relationship with someone”) to, finally, a real recognition of his own hideousness (“I think if you stay, something bad will happen,” delivered with something that approaches but doesn't quite reach sadness).

Bateman’s cruelty and emptiness couldn’t be plainer, and yet he finds no release in his actions or his confessions. We see that morning routine, the search for the perfect business card, the hunt for the reservation at the best restaurant, and see an attempt to assume the role of the idealized yuppie, but it’s all work ... no soul, no joy. The same goes for Bateman’s more sociopathic actions, whether it’s a self-regarding attempt at a threesome (in which he’s more enamored with striking godlike poses than the sex itself) or stabbing a homeless man on the street. He has the impulses that give him a brief flash of life, but there's little catharsis. Bale plays his compulsions, both murderous and consumerist, as those of a joyless man who attempts to approximate enjoyment. His intense commitment to the role’s physical requirements mimics the character’s own intense commitment to a lifestyle, but where one finds a pulse, the other finds a pit. If most of Bale’s characters attempt to outrun an emptiness or pain in their lives, Bateman is his own emptiness, and no amount of heavy lifting and slashing can change it.

"The Prestige" / Warner Bros. Pictures

2006: “The Prestige”

If “American Psycho” made Bale a name actor and “The Machinist” cemented his reputation for near-deranged commitment, “Batman Begins” and “The Dark Knight” made him universally recognizable, physical transformations be damned. Truth be told, his most famous films with Christopher Nolan aren’t his most notable, succeeding primarily on the basis of their villains and thematic ambition. While he’s admirably grounded and present as Bruce Wayne, Bale never quite dives into the monster that Batman's alter ego is fighting so hard not to be; his line readings are too glum, his face too stoic, rarely registering the internal struggle that Nolan’s scripts try (a little too hard) to give him (for a better heroic Bale performance, see “3:10 to Yuma”). It’s his other collaboration with Nolan, “The Prestige,” that best exemplifies that inner conflict and, indeed, the defining theme of Bale’s career.

There’s no way to talk about Bale’s performance in “The Prestige” meaningfully without diving into spoilers, so here’s your warning.

Bale’s Alfred Borden is established as the more risk-taking of “The Prestige’s” central characters, compared with Hugh Jackman’s Robert Angier, something hinted in early scenes as the actor speaks to Angier and Michael Caine’s Cutter with an air of arrogance and almost demented devotion to the craft. This extends to his personal life, which is eventually revealed to be a literal double life: Bale’s playing both Borden and his twin (dubbed “Fallon”), who loved separate women (Rebecca Hall and Scarlet Johansson) and ruined their lives through a total obsession and commitment to their craft over all else. Observant viewers can spot the moments in which Bale’s warmth with Sarah (Hall), Borden’s wife, is genuine and when “Fallon” is speaking to her with nothing behind the eyes. One particularly painful scene, a final confrontation between “Fallon” and Sarah, features one of the most gutting moments in Bale’s career, in which his anger at her realization of the truth prevents him from even attempting to maintain the illusion. Asked if he loves her, he spits out a “Not today” with a level of coldness worthy of Patrick Bateman.

The performance is, on some level, as much of a stunt as “The Machinist” or “Batman Begins,” but the trick of it feels all the more appropriate, given the subject. Bale imbues his twin magicians with a combination of mischievousness and palpable sadness, showing a flash of joy in their eyes after showing a child a magic trick ... and a sense of loss as the twins face each other, knowing only one can exist. Perhaps Bale found something moving in the idea of men who find purpose in deceiving viewers in order to entertain them, and in the idea of men who are madly committed to realizing an idealized form of craft at the expense of their personal identities. The dual performance shows two men who are constantly amused at their own ability to pull off a trick (especially at the expense of bitter rival Angier) and simultaneously aware that they’ve sacrificed true happiness for an obsession that they seem to be pursuing without any real thought as to why.

"The Big Short" / Paramount

2015: “The Big Short”

By the late 2000s, Bale’s own commitment to his craft seemed to have lost real direction, lapsing into self-seriousness (“Terminator Salvation,” “Harsh Times,” his dull work in the otherwise sturdy “Public Enemies”) or pure imitation (“I’m Not There,” in which he’s by far the weakest Bob Dylan). Whatever the weaknesses of post-“I Heart Huckabees” David O. Russell (shapelessness, self-satisfaction, volume over everything), he managed to get Bale to loosen up as few directors beyond Gillian Armstrong and Werner Herzog had, directing a pair of lively performances in “The Fighter” (for which Bale won the Academy Award for Best Supporting Actor) and “American Hustle” (another nomination). Bale is at his best as of late when tapping into his comedic side, as best demonstrated in his first collaboration with Adam McKay, “The Big Short” (a third nomination).

Playing hedge fund manager Michael Burry, the oddest of the men who made millions by betting the U.S. economy would collapse, Bale roots the comedy of the character in his behavior. A whiz with numbers, Bale’s Burry nevertheless has no social skills; the humor of his bizarre compliment (“That’s a very nice haircut. Did you do it yourself?”) to prospective employee is not only in its inherent strangeness, but in his halting delivery and blank expression, as if he knows he’s not good with these interactions but not exactly why the thing he’s about to say is weird. His gestures are similarly uncomfortable, whether he’s flashing a smile for no reason or awkwardly rubbing at his glass eye while stammering about subprime mortgages. And yet, Burry is one of the least deceptive and most honest characters in Bale’s three-decade career, focused entirely on the tangible at the expense of more difficult-to-pin-down things like social niceties and gut instinct. It is a very different, but equally telling, echo of Bale’s own methods that one can find in his more deluded characters. If Dicky Eklund or Irving Rosenthal act in self-deception to convince themselves and others of something, Burry concentrates only on what he can see empirically to find his truth, not unlike how Bale drills down on tangible external details (hair, weight, voice) as a way to find his own.

If Bale’s performance in “The Big Short” is his funniest, it is also among his saddest, as his character’s obsession with numbers at the expense of person-to-person interactions make him both the ideal person to predict a market collapse and the worst person to convey it. When confronted by angry investors, he does little to assuage their concerns, instead speaking in a low but self-assured tone (at the idea that nobody can see a bubble: “That’s dumb ... ”) that he can’t see is doomed to only further enrage people. When he’s rebuked, he can admit his weaknesses, but not without reinforcing his total conviction in what he does. “I don’t know how to be sarcastic,” Bale says with a slight shrug and a tone that’s equally confessional and weary. “I just know how to read numbers.” It’s the rare Bale character where one’s obsession is what can help spot the looming, soul-and-economy-destroying void, even if it can’t help avert it.

"Vice" / Annapurna Pictures

This makes for a fascinating polar opposite to his most recent McKay-directed performance. Like Bateman and others before him, Bale’s Cheney in "Vice" is a cold-hearted cipher, a man so consumed with the idea of power and the need and ability to wield it that questions of ethics, morality or popularity never elicit a moment’s thought. His measured cadence and small gestures (a small head jerk on “different understanding,” a shift from a guarded posture to a hand wave on “mundane” to suggest a helping hand) show someone who has weighed exactly what he has to do to pull someone over to his side in a way that makes them think he’s nudging them along to where they always wanted to be, rather than totally manipulating them.

Bale actually almost played George W. Bush himself in Oliver Stone’s “W.” before finding the prosthetics weren’t to his satisfaction (another case of needing tangible details, or self-deception, for a successful performance), but he feels like a better fit for Cheney, a man hiding behind a façade of reserved normality to hide an all-consuming desire for expanded empire, denying ulterior motives to the public and possibly to himself. The world is remade in his cruel image in a way that persists to this day, and that will be near-impossible to change. If Burry, like Bateman, can clearly see the void, Cheney, like Bateman, is the void.

from All Content http://bit.ly/2FvN4OM

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sarkarimirror · 6 years

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MAMAA JOB DONE ,SUCHITRA BACK WITH 'SAWAN BARSE'

New Delhi,December 5,2018 Exclusive interview of Suchitra Krishnamoorthi,Emininent Bollywood Celebrity,Singer with Editor-in-Chief Tarun Sharma

T.S: please tell us something on how is life after your last movie on big screen. S.K: Thats a very strange question. Movie is one of the many things I have done in my life and i have enjoyed everything I have done equally. I am constantly disapointed by how Bollywood enamored our media and public is to the extent of ignorin other arts and professions T.S: Parenting is something which you can define much better,whats your views on this. S.K: Motherhood is something that only those who have experienced can understand. Otherwise its like explaining colour to the blind. Only those who hve experienced motherhood can ever understand The all consuming intensity of it vulnerability and yet power of the experience. T.S: How has your daughter changed your life on a whole. K.S My daughter has been the focus of my existence since she was born. She is now 17 and ready to fly the nest- ie shes busy with her college applications to go study music abroad next year in august. My mamma job is done and now I am back to focusing on my own life T.S :Movies,Author,Aromatic Candlemaking and now a music album,Whats that make you multi-talented. K.S : am grateful to God for my many talents. Most people struggle with finding that one thing to do. I enjoy doing all the things i do be it singing acting writing painting candle making etc. My creative energy is very high I need to be doing something or the other all the time. And i do it for pleasure T.S: Your music album launched,please tell about that. K.S : My new music release after 18 years! The last time I was promoting a single I was pregnant with my daughter Kaveri!!! Her little teenage friends seem surprised to discover that I sing & I have to remind them that its where she got her talent from after all

:-) The long gap is not only because I was playing mom which I was doing rather ardently and I have loved every minute of it But the long gap & my staying away from music (though i expressed myself through other creative avenues like painting and writing) is because I had lost my voice and my confidence completely over the last many years. I never thought I would be able to sing again. It was a psychological block - an emotional voice paralysis. Technically/medically my vocal chords were intact but yet I could not sing, When people would ask me to sing I would get severe anxiety like there was a noose around my neck and gradually started avoiding putting myself in such situations completely. Even at family functions where singing songs was a staple part of our lives I used to refuse. Nobody not even me could figure out why Then three years ago I met my wonderful Guruji Ravi Juleji who coaxed and cajoled my voice back into shape with a lot of love and patience.I remember once at riyaaz he told me very sweetly "I am going to make you Suchitra Krishnamoorthi again. You have forgotten who you are but we lovers of music still remember your voice . Memories of that day still bring a lump in my throat. My first attempt at singing was in my musical play Drama Queen that opened two years ago. There i wrote the music and lyrics and kept it so simple that I felt confident that I woud sing it even on a bad day with a hoarse throat. It was a big confidence booster and paved the way My single Sawan Barse happened quite by chance. I was attending a private film screening of a film and a day later one of the music directors of the film Surya Vishwakarma started sending me direct messages on facebook saying he was a fan of my voice & its his dream to record a song with me. Though rather flattered I ignored him for weeks but then when he was persistent, I put my fear aside and said why not lets do it. We recorded the song in a few hours & i played it to some of my friends from the music business to get a feedback on how my voice was sounding after so many years. Atul Churamani whos musical acumen i trust completely and has always been urging me to return to music over the years liked it & insisted I make a video. So i then asked the super talented young director Karan L Butani to come on board and he conceptualized and directed a beautiful video for me. The concept of the video is "return to innocence* It is about reclaiming your essence, reclaiming the purity of childhood , reclaiming the love we owe ourselves. I am excited for this release and already recording a few more songs with some very talented musicians. The music business is very different from when i left it but is more vibrant more flexible and much more fun. Everything is good & its getting better . Tra la la la la

:-) PS - I will continue to do all the things I enjoy doing so please dont ask me " SO no more painting? No more soap and candle making? No more acting? 🙂🙂🙂 I intend to do it all 😋😋 T.S: What is music to you,does as it is said really connect you to god,pls share your experience. K.S: Like they say God loves all his children. But those he loves more he gives them a voice T.S :How has the so called glam industry of bollywood towards you in so many years,hows the prospective -supportive or negativity. K.S :People have been very kind to me. Bollywood is a very positive place T.S :Whats the most you liked about your recent launch ,what is your expectations from your old or new fans which will become after listening to your album. K.S :I am overwhelmed by the response. Especially on you tube and other social media to me. I had completely forgotten the love of my fans. I am happy to be reminded of it and want more and more T.S :A brief motivational message to womanhood at large. K.S :Do your own thing, and value yourself please. Dont ever make yourself small to feed any one elses insecurity. Read the full article

#Bollywoodactresssuchitrakrishnamoorthi #sawanbarsesong #Singersuchitrakrishnamoorthi #SUCHITRAKRISHNAMOORTHI #suchitrasawanbarsesong

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anonarat · 7 years

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Chapter 5 - Tea and Cakes

The hot water in the bath felt luxurious to Aym as she stretched out. Tempting though it was to ease her muscles with her powers, she did not know enough about the fae’s capabilities to detect unusual occurrences to risk it. Perhaps she could have done it during the race, but she had focussed her emotions too deeply on winning, whilst not actually going all out to pay attention to her physical structure.

Had she wished, victory in the race would have been easily doable. Her muscles could work without getting tired, or more accurately she could replace the old muscles with fresh muscle. Beyond that, she could have simply made her muscles more suited to the run. Such a victory was not beneficial to Aym’s long-term strategy, even if it did mean she had to do further exertions.

Losing to Latrice meant that Latrice would think herself the superior, but Aym got the feeling that Latrice would not misuse that superiority. Rather, Aym had given a good enough accounting of herself that she suspected that Latrice had gotten more respect for her than she might otherwise have done. Whilst Latrice didn’t exactly seem like she was in a position of power, any ally was useful.

Waiting a moment longer, Aym took the opportunity to tweak her riotous emotions so that she would be able to think with a clearer head. Undertones of grief and sadness formed the underlying base, but she built some measure of drive and ambition on top of that. Some hurt pride and a fading sting of defeat, layered on top was the satisfaction of exertion and the pleasure of the bath soothing her aching muscles.

Eshe had informed Aym when she returned that dinner would be served shortly, and then a short break before the fae would descend on her receiving room. It didn’t really give Aym much time to prepare, and playing host to creatures that acted as fickle as the fae seemed like a losing proposition.

If nothing else, this meeting might give Aym an idea of Ythna’s game, depending on who the queen chose to introduce her to, and their positions within the court. Her client had already explained that what the fae did was not without purpose. If Ythna truly was the spymaster for the Court of Heights in The Rose Court, then Aym might be able to work out allies and enemies. Had Ythna simply been playing with her, then Aym could determine who the distractions were meant to be.

“Mistress,” came Eshe’s voice from the receiving room, “you have only a few more minutes before dinner. You should finish up with your bath.”

A thought occurred to Aym, and she frowned. It seemed odd that Eshe was just shy of giving her orders. Whilst she was new to the courts, she had had enough of a briefing to understand that this was unusual. It might simply be that Eshe was trying to make things easier for her, so that she didn’t have to think. Perhaps if she had been fully consumed by her emotions, it would have been a blessing. That was just making excuses for Eshe though; it would be something to investigate further if Aym had the time. With little in the way of information, having something she might be able to hold over Eshe would be handy.

Sighing, Aym drew herself out of the bath and began towelling herself off.

***

Five fae entered into Aym’s quarters, of which one was Ythna. As is the way with fae, all of them were rather distinctive. If you can look like whatever you want, why not stand out? In Aym’s case, because it would probably be deadly, but otherwise, the sky is the limit.

Behind Ythna came something that appeared to be male, but was unnaturally thin and long. His movements were abrupt and there was a certain sharpness to him. A black, bushy beard gave a softness to the face that was absent from the rest of him. This was Apan, head researcher of glam within The Rose Court.

Now Apan, as such things go, was an artist with glam. He can manipulate it to a fine degree, and he consumes enough innovation and whimsy to be rather inventive with what he can do. As you might expect from someone of Apan’s capabilities, he realised that something was off with Aym from the beginning, but he certainly couldn’t pinpoint it.

Next came a pair, arm in arm. They seemed almost polar opposites in appearance. Imi with his light blue skin and white hair contrasting with the absolute blackness of Iru’s skin. When I say absolute, I mean it was like Iru’s skin devoured any light that shone on it. Her orange hair and eyes helped a lot with defining Iru’s shape.

You have probably already guessed that Imi and Iru are inseparable. I don’t know why they originally bonded together, but I’m sure I could find out if I desired. Now, you might also suspect the pair to be lovers, especially since one is male, and the other, female. You would be wrong, rather they are closer to those who share a deep emotional bond; twins perhaps.

Finally came Tu-en. Now there is a nasty piece of work if ever I saw one. Oh she seems all sweetness and light, but she is one who happily deceives other fae. That deceit is not surprising, what is, is that she gets away with it. It helped that she was young as fae go. Very young, but very competent.

She was an impressive fluorescent pink with silver grey hair. Quite why anyone thought that fluorescent pink was a good skin colour is far beyond me. Even the barbarians have a much paler pink for their flesh, as if they have some sense of decorum. Not much though, they are barbarians after all.

“Allow me to introduce you all; this is Aym, formerly of the Court of Heights,” said Ythna, waving a hand in Aym’s direction.

“It is my pleasure to meet you all. Your magnificent presence graces this humble abode,” said Aym, bowing deeply. This simply set Iru off tittering and Apan frowning.

“As you can see, she still has all the manners of her old court, even when she doesn’t need them. Stand up straight Aym, here, you can treat with us on reasonable footing. I thought that I had explained that we do not have such a strict hierarchy,” said Ythna, a gentle smile on her face.

“Thank you my lady. It is something that I shall clearly have to accustom myself to,” said Aym.

“Yes; very good,” said Ythna, “come, let us sit at your table, drink your drinks and eat your food. Let us enjoy your hospitality and tell you of the court. Though you have some small knowledge of I, these good four are ones who I think you would do well to know.”

As the rest of the group sat at the table, Aym rang the bell for Eshe. Strangely, the bell seemed to make no sound, but given the way things were here, Aym jumped to the logical conclusion that it was magic. She returned and sat at the only free chair at the table, directly opposite Ythna.

“I suppose whilst we wait, it would be a good time for us to introduce ourselves. I am Tu-en. Unless things have changed recently, I believe I am the youngest of all the fae currently living on the world. As such, I have much still to learn about the world. You too shall be learning how we do things here, so I might hope that we shall be become good friends,” said Tu-en in her oddly melodic voice.

“I’m Imi, and this here is Iru. We do much of everything together, unless one of us is wooing someone. Speaking of which, and I ask with no strings attached or implication that you might come to harm if you refuse, might I romance you? I hear that you were oh so dreadfully torn from your love, and I would hope to offer you some small distraction,” said Imi, which earned him a look from Iru.

“I… I am not quite sure what to say,” replied Aym as she let her fear skyrocket, “It seems... a nigh unthinkable honour.”

“That’s a ‘no’ Imi, at least for right now,” said Iru.

“Oh fine,” said Imi with a huff.

It is strange how small a sound might set off great fear, but this is a fae. Humans who irk fae get off lightly with death. Unfortunately for them, what sets a fae off appears random; intentionally so. That sort of capriciousness teaches humans to fear the fae, make them incomprehensible and make them seem even more unassailable.

“Fear not Aym. I do not tolerate unreasonable harm to our courtiers and nor does my husband,” said Ythna, “you are clearly in the right should Imi do something so foolish. But my dear Imi would not dream of such a violation in any case.”

“Ythna has the right of it. You need not worry about me. Perhaps, in future, when your woe has softened further, I shall try again. Until then, it is my wish that we might become companions of a sort. It should be interesting to hear new opinions from outside of the court. ‘Tis rare that we get new blood here.”

“Thank you for your offer Imi. I think I should be glad of some companionship,” said Aym.

“If you’re not wanting romance, you should probably steer clear of Jaios and Gatou, two other Lords. They both only hear what they want, and take ‘no’s personally. Me and Imi will do our best to help you against them” said Iru.

Ythna and Tu-en sighed in harmony.

“You really should get over this petty feud that you have with those two,” said Tu-en, tinging her words with sadness.

“We’ll keep our feud and like it,” snapped Iru back.

“Come now, let us move on to more pleasant topics,” said Ythna, “Apan, you have yet to introduce yourself.”

“As my queen has so rightly said, I am Apan. I am less interested in the affairs of mortals as these other are, though I do not begrudge your presence. You are curious though, there is something unusual about you. I cannot put my finger on it, but perhaps we might spend further time together after this evening.”

For once Aym kept the urging for her fear to spike in check. That Apan could sense something unusual about her was very worrying, though whether it was her artificially inflated emotions or her true nature he sensed, she could not know.

And this is where I’ll pull the veil back a bit, as Aym never did find out what Apan sensed was different with her. Truth be told, it was a bit of both, but moreso her emotions. As you may have gathered, fae can sense ambient excess emotions, and Apan was a master at that. Aym didn’t account for giving her emotions any micro-fluctuations that would normally be seen in a human, making her emotions unusually stable. Ythna also sensed this incongruity, though nowhere near as accurately as Apan, hence her invitation to him.

“It would be a pleasure and an honour Lord Apan,” said Aym, bowing her head long enough to indicate respect. The words were a lie, but since she couldn’t properly use glam anyway, it’s not as though this would weaken her at all.

At that natural lull in the conversation, Eshe appeared with a tray of small cakes and a pot of tea. There was a contemplative quiet as Eshe poured out the tea into cups and served each of the fae and then Aym. Her work done, Eshe gave a deep bow and exited the room, though the silence her presence had caused lingered.

Aym noted that the flavour of the tea was decidedly positive. She had never been one for consuming things beyond the need for sustenance, and she did not feel any pleasure or disgust from certain foods, merely positive or negative stimuli. Still, it did not seem disagreeable to her current palate.

“This is most delightful. I thank you deeply for the opportunity you have all given me by allowing me into your court,” said Aym.

“My, how polite she is,” said Iru, “We know how leaving your old court must have torn at you, and tear still. Honesty here is a good trait to have, and I shall be honest, your words sound a lie with that knowledge. There are no expectations of you here, though perhaps there are some events that we would encourage you to attend. You really need to loosen up Aym. Tell us things true; tackle and work through your abandonment of your love. You, and all our courtiers, are precious to this court.”

“Ease off on her Iru. I know well how difficult getting accustomed to a new place can be,” said Tu-en.

“Just trying to help,” replied Iru, her lips quirking up.

“Do not worry about it my Lady. I appreciate your assistance, but we can be rather slow to change our ways,” said Aym, bowing her head and lowering her voice, trying to convey acquiescence and submission.

For all that fae understand emotions, body language can sometimes pass them by, though they still use the basics. To such creatures, external appearance can be but a passing fancy, and it’s not like body language is an actual indication of the truth. Trust me when I say that the fae will twist words and meaning like there is no tomorrow, but they will not tell an absolute lie. The why to this shall become apparent much, much later in my tale, but for now you can theorise. Though I suspect you already know.

“Hmm, Aym, I should like you to meet my brother, the king. You are a new courtier after all, it is right that you should know your liege, albeit distantly,” said Ythna, tilting her head and raising a finger along her cheekbone, as if she were deep in thought.

“You do… sorry. Thank you for your offer,” said Aym. Needless to say, this was not the direction she wanted the conversation going in. Meeting a fae king? Most any sensible human would rather be thrown into a pit full of ravenous dogs. Can’t say I blame them either.

“Oho, and what were you going to say just then?” asked Imi, earning him an elbow for Iru.

“I would have said you do me a great honour, but well, you asked me to be a bit less formal. Sorry if I spoke out of place,” said Aym, eliciting a tinkling laugh from Ythna.

“You truly are so precious. Those manners will stand you in good stead when you meet Lord Shiod, King of The Rose Court. He is, perhaps, the exception to the rule, for he secludes himself away within the court, and values propriety. It is also good that you are taking our lessons to heart,” said Ythna.

“There is nothing wrong with secluding oneself away from outside distractions when you are doing important work,” said Apan, lifting his nose slightly, and narrowing his eyes.

“Ah yes, your important work for the court Apan,” said Tu-en, “have you made any further progress.”

“That is not really a topic suitable for the ears of a courtier. Aym, it is not something you should concern yourself over. All you should need to know is that no matter what your previous masters told you, we are at the forefront of research,” said Apan, drawing his impressive height up yet further.

“Forgive my ignorance, but what of The Steel Court,” asked Aym. Perhaps it was a bit brazen, but having a bit of a clue of what she might be looking for would be a good start.

“Hmph, The Steel Court. They concern themselves with trivial baubles and grossly overcomplicating things that are easily done with glam,” replied Apan.

“Glam…?” asked Aym.

At the same time, Ythna spoke sharply, “as you said Apan, it is not something that Aym needs to worry about.”

Registering Aym’s question, Ythna continued, “Glam is just our word for magic. As a human, just as it would be pointless for you to try to understand magic, so to would it be unhelpful for you to understand glam.”

“Apologies, it seems my questions have upset you,” said Aym quickly.

“Your curiosity is natural for your species, and it is hardly surprising that the Court of Heights kept such information from you. Still, this is a topic that would be better closed,” said Ythna, taking the last of the finger cakes that had been set out with the tea.

Aym had hardly noticed how quickly the whole thing had gone, and it didn’t take much to switch over to some desperate hope. Most would interpret it as desperate hope for the fae to leave, and rightly so. The reason though is less due to fear, and more to do with Aym wishing to mull over the information that she had gained from the meeting.

As Ythna finished her cake, Tu-en spoke, “it seems that this draws our meeting to a close. It has been a pleasure.”

“Indeed so, it has been a most interesting evening, and you were wonderful as a host,” said Imi, getting up to leave.

“The rest of you leave. I should like to have some quiet words with Aym,” said Ythna with authority, her voice firm. The other fae made their goodbyes and left the room, leaving Aym alone with Ythna.

“You would do well to make friends with these. They shall protect those who are… well, they will offer you a measure of protection. Such might be useful if things do not go entirely to my plans for you. Do you understand?”

“Yes my Lady Ythna,” said Aym.

“Good. Whilst you should try with Apan, he shall be harder to win over than the others, so failure there is acceptable. In addition to those you were warned of this evening, keep a careful eye out for Kastor and Lamde. They can be more changeable than most of us, and they play a hidden game. Now I too shall take my leave of you. Think on what was said this evening. You will be expected at the entrance of the court tomorrow,” said Ythna, pushing aside the beaded curtain over the door.

“Good night Aym.”

“Good night Lady Ythna.”

When Ythna had fully exited Aym drew the heavier curtain across the door, and went to sit on one of the divans in her receiving room to work through what she had heard over the evening and to plan her next move.

#The Rose Court #nanowrimo #Tomorrow is the halfway point #And I am nowhere near halfway done ;_;

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