#filming himself with chirping birds in the background

[friendofgeorgeharrison]

Remembering George November 29, 2019 (x)

[flightnotes]

ahh this is late, hihi everyone i’m el (they/them) and i’m here to introduce my beloved meow meow minsol ❁ he’s pretty rough around the edges lol but maybe we’ll find something redeeming along the way ! here’s his bio, profile, inspo, and plots that once again ive failed to finish writing in time. unfortunately i’m rly busy today, but i still wanted to get this out so i’m not even later, and i fully intend to catch up on everyone’s intros tomorrow!!

background:

‘98, he/him, magpie familiar

adopted by a couple in a small town who didn’t know he was a familiar until he first shifted. he doesn’t know who his birth parents are but it never really concerned him

was pretty sheltered throughout childhood, used to be a lot softer and thought he could use what little powers he had to heal people, to heal the world

moved to jeju when he was 19, although it was less a “move” and more a “needed to be somewhere other than the place he grew up in,” and he had happened to hear that jeju was a safe haven for magic users. by then, he doubted there was really such a thing as safe -- but there must’ve been enough of an idealist left in him that he ended up here

a family took pity on him when he first arrived and allowed him to stay at one of their spare rooms in exchange for helping around their farm. after a few years, he scraped up enough to start renting his own place

his past is hidden behind like a level 10000 friendship lock tho you’re more likely to catch him making up lies abt his family than the truth 😭 

due to undisclosed reasons, his voice has a permanent rasp to it, and he’s used to people thinking he smokes or smth. it’s even more noticeable when he shifts and tries to chirp and it just sounds scratchy/hoarse

exterior/personality:

like any dutiful corvid, he’s very protective of his hoard aka a small compartment in his room where he keeps his precious shiny things. he likes things with a shine to them the most, but specifically things made out of glass or silver

if he likes something but not intensely enough to squirrel it away, he displays it around the apartment. his shelves and tables are full of glass figurines n he has too many silverware than he knows what to do with it’s starting to become a problem

used to love shifting to sing and talk with other birds (he didnt have many friends ok......). singing is a little difficult and sometimes painful if he strains himself now but he took up a job at the sanctuary because he wanted to feel that sense of belonging again. v protective of the animals there so treat them right or else

very into movies and music -- had a late start on pop culture when he finally moved out lol so he’s currently voraciously burning through the classic movies, esp ones with memorable soundtracks

started dabbling in musical composition as an alternative after ruining his voice and thinks it would be cool to score a major film someday

for now tho he shoots his own short "films” and composes little pieces for them. really wants to do more serious projects but like. doesn’t know how to begin/feels like it’s too late yk?

outwardly, he exudes a lot of ur typical uhhh mysterious bad boy persona LMAO but he thinks it beats being mistaken for weak and someone who can be taken advantage of, so he lets people think what they want ! 

close friends (does he have any????) probably see more of a tired, self aware, and sheepish version of him who, like....actually laughs..... prone to angry rants about literally the smallest thing and then talking himself out of it after bc he gets embarrassed when he’s caught experiencing a strong emotion

has a big thing against being used for his abilities, which has extended into a strong aversion to being touched without his permission. hasn’t used his ability for anyone else for five years now and is perfectly content to keep it that way for the time

him: [sets one boundary] yea im a bad bitch

for those reasons, he’s adamantly against bonding right now, but he thinks a pack would sound nice,, if he could actually allow himself to get close enough to people, at least -_-

some wanted connections:

someone from the family who first gave him a place to stay. i imagine they’d still be pretty close now, but alternatively it could be the opposite where they didn’t get along so well or the muse resented that their parents just took him in like that

someone who’s also very into filmmaking + preferably makes films of their own! i’d love for him to have someone whose work he’d feel really in awe of and actively want to make music for, and for them to build up a little resume of independent films they’ve worked on together

someone else who either works at the sanctuary or just shares the same protectiveness over animals. one day, they find an injured animal and end up helping nurse it back to health together and eventually re-release it into the wild

a poor muse who works or hangs around somewhere he often visits (music shops, cafes, diners) and is terrified of him/convinced he hates them bc of his resting bitch face, but part of the reason he’s a regular there is actually bc he enjoys their company

a fellow corvid who has a bit of a hoarding problem too. maybe they enable each other, support each other’s collections, or are actively trying to defeat the habit together 😭

a fellow familiar or witch who doesn’t want to bond either but feels the same pressure to. they could sympathize and grab a drink about it together

someone who sees through his enigmatic little act and can call him out on just being afraid of vulnerability :\

i’ll write these up properly with more on his plots page eventually! tysm if you made it this far and i can’t wait to see everyone on the dash soon ><!!

[honeyau]

(1.) Clover Honey

-light amber, delicate taste of sweet floral. Mayhap a promise of luck to come, there is hope in every tear-

Clovers that accompany Noah on his venture to Jaromir’s.. One would feel such company to be lucky but.. In reality, to Noah at least, he feels nothing but rising concern with every step he takes. Wearing down a man-made trail all the more, such weekly visits always have Noah heightened in anticipation to expect the worse.

How can he not? Jaromir living out in the middle of abandoned farmland.. The only close contact being his landlord and even he lives miles away.. Anything could happen out in these lands, from a stranger  breaking in, to the worn down house simply collapsing under it’s own age.

Of course, Noah has always been dramatic and it certainly doesn’t help that he’d dragged Romeo into a horror film marathon the night before.. A frustrated rumble to himself, Noah begins to jog his way up the hill. Cat-belled earrings draped to his torn ear jingle in the hasten pace.

Mountains in the far background, there are an abundance of small but steep hills about.. Wild grass and flowers, there is a constant soft sound of insect buzzing and bird chirping.. Few trees scattered about and they provide the occasional shade along the trail Noah treks up.. His jog going back into steps that now drag as he feels exhausted in his own worry and summer heat.. 

‘He better be alive to serrrve tea...’

Eventually, the star-draped man makes his way to the top of the hill, greeted by the sight of an ever-rusting truck and hawk perched at the deck.. It watches Noah, recognizing the visitor thanks to his frequency.. And unfortunately, Noah knows it as well.. 

“Heyyy Grendal…” Noah lifts his palms up in a sign of submission, knowing that this particular bird is territorial and thus rather mean.. Noah has the bites on his fingers to prove such. And he doesn’t wish to add to his collection of battle wounds.. 

And so, he tries to step around..

A lift of wings and single sound of the bells that dangle at its hood has Noah rushing past the bird, however. he squeals out an apology while he does so, as if that would give him any sort of mercy. 

“I’m sorrrrrry!!!” Rumbling out nervously, he slams the front door before him in fear of the angered bird following. 

But luckily, Grendal simply stays put and cracks his beak in mild frustration.. The hawk having learned from one too many slams to the face that Noah is not worth the hunt.. 

The door screeeeeches in the forceful shut but to have a barrier leaves Noah at ease..sighing to settle himself, he swipes away the beads of summer sweat as he calls out to his dear friend,

“Jarrrrro!” 

But there is no response.. At least, not directly. He can hear someone working outback.. Bees buzzing accompanied with poor singing.. Such sounds are assuring, to say the least, and so all the nerves the man had felt in his jog are all but gone now. 

And instead.. replaced with thirst. 

and surely, Jaromir will be of the same sentiment.. being out in the afternoon sun with his hive.. 

“Hmm hmm~” Wood flooring that is covered in mismatched rugs, it’s whines are muffled under each skip Noah hops towards the kitchen. “Time to make a little snack forrrr my busy bee, hehe..~” 

✿✿✿✿✿

A drench of sweat beneath protective wear and religious hem sung out in praise and thanks for the harvest of honey, Jaromir feels hopeful that he and his bee’s efforts will be fruitful. Something about this batch feels life changing, but Jaromir is also certain that could just be the thrill of the job.  

Such joys are interrupted, however, when Grendal flies overhead with an alerting call. Trained in protecting it’s home, Jaromir sighs as he recognizes a hint of lazy efforts in his shout. Because for Grendal to have no worry in both tone and body language means that there is a familiar guest. 

“H-Has it been a week already..” parched stutters, the morning’s work has left him far more deprived than he’d thought. He attempts to swallow to settle such discomforts and begins to close up the bee’s containment, his work having to go on hold for now it seems...

Not that Jaromir is looking forward to the guest that awaits him inside, but the sooner he tends to the unwanted presence the quicker he can go back to what matters.. 

✿✿✿✿✿

“I brrrought you this cake /last/ week, Jarrrro!” Trills and rolls to add emphasis to his disappointment, these are the first words to greet the other as they come in.. And perhaps deserved, considering.. 

“And y-you know I-I don’t have m-much of a sweet tooth.” Jaromir retorts dryly, though the rest of him is damp in sweat. “N-Nor memory..” Calloused fingers begin to unfasten a couple of his shirt’s upper buttons.. Hoping it will offer some sort of relief.. Just as he hopes that his words will be enough of an answer to satisfy Noah.   

And luckily, they are. 

Noah sighs, shaking his head in a mild disappointment as he begins to service his friend. “Thaaaat I know too well..” Pouring the pair a cool glass of tea with a table already set for two. And such a drink has never looked more appealing to Jaromir.. 

In fact..

 “It’s been a whole week since anyone has heard from you! Don’t you know how worried–” Jaromir helps himself to the first glass to be readied, nearly finishing it in a few strong gulps. Noah scoffs in offense. “Ugggh! Worrrrried I’ve been?!” 

Hard swallows and a gasp.. Jaromir feels far more refreshed than he had seconds ago and just as well, now able to handle his friend’s dramatism.. 

“y-you’re /always/ worried..” Jaromir mutters over the rim of his cup, gaze adverting away from the glare that Noah gives. He adds a huff, the other unable to at least avoid his sound of offense. “S-Sorry..” Jaro apologizes, though the sincerity is little to none. “I hadn’t m-meant to a-add to your worries..” 

Which is luckily enough for his friend.. For he gives a soft trill and thoughtful hum before reaching out to give Jaro a glass fill of tea. Though.. Such a polite gesture does not come without scolding.

“You can’t just.. Go silent like that, you know? It’s not only me..”

“...thanks..” A mummer of gratitude,  Jaromir takes a proper sip of his drink this time as he finally sits himself at the table.

Noah continues on in his nagging. “Romeo asks about you whiiich is sweet but.. It’s not exactly a turn on when your boyfriend is thinking of your best frrrriend instead of you, you know!”

No, he doesn’t and nonetheless, Jaromir could care less what that toxin feels. A sentiment he keeps to himself, however, and swallows down with another sip of black tea. 

“And noooot to mention! Yourrr sweet mother had sent me a message! as did Jama–”

“M-My m-mother?!” A squeak at the mere mention of her contacting Noah, the other can’t help but to laugh and throw down his wrist in a limp. 

“I knoooow rrrrright?” As Noah sets the pitcher of tea to the side, he begins to portion the week-old cake. Luckily, it truly did maintain a sort of freshness to it.. But it’s clear the spiced pastry had been in its prime long ago. “The lady /hates/ my guts and yet! She faced her hatred and asked about where you’d been. Ohohoh, she’s been sooo worried about you.” Knife coated in the buttercream topping and gingered crumble, Noah points it at Jaro. “I get you losing track with me and all, but you know how your mother gets if you don’t even leave her on read.”

“I-Implying s-she understands such a concept.” A pathetic retort, his stomach gives an aching growl as the spiced aroma hits his senses.. 

“All the morrrre reason to at least say /something/! Maybe, even, finally show some pictures of your home?” Returning the knife to the cake’s box, Noah gently hoists up a piece and sets it upon a small, floral patterned plate.. And a sigh as he passes the sweet along. “Sorrrrry, I didn’t come here to yell at you. Juuust.. what’s been going on?” 

“I’ve j-just been.. Busy.” Jaromir utters as he takes the given sweet, stomach aching more than his heart over the thought of his mother as the treat comes closer to his hungry self.. 

“Clearly…” certainly it’s the truth, but.. Noah is not satisfied with that alone so he gives out a downward trill of disappointment and shrug to show such. He begins to help himself to a slice of the cake, as well.

“D-Don’t be that way..” Jaromirr stutters in his grumble. “It’s true..”

“Busy with what then, myyyy little bee?”

“The hive..” A soft mutter, there is some shame in admitting it. He knows that many if not everyone sees his dedication as a joke and nothing more. And while their assumptions are certainly not true, Jaromir struggles to display his pride and prove otherwise..

 He cuts into the cake but merely plays with the end piece of it.. Anticipating Noah to laugh or show some sort of further disappointment, he feels himself already losing his appetite.

“Ohhh! So, you trrrruly have been a busy bee then!” A perked response, Noah settles himself across from the other and yet despite having the ability to just sit closer, he leans across the table to show his interest all the more. 

such a genuine tone and dramatic gesture is enough to remind Jaromir that, well.. Perhaps not /everyone/ sees his efforts as a waste. “Is there… honey, then..?!” A jagged, toothy grin. “Oh..! It’s been yearrrs! You’ve finally done it!”

“C-C-Come on!” An embarrassed blush and twitch in his smile, Jaromir gives a playful kick under the table to try to stop his friend from climbing on top of the small table. “I–It’s not been /that/ long..” Amber gaze adverts down to the piece he’d cut off the cake. His hunger returns.. Smile jittery. “J-Just a year..”

“Ohhehehhhh still! How exciting~!” Noah giggles as he flops back down in his seat with a loud creak. Even with his mere weight of bones, the chair whines as if it could collapse under him at any moment. “This is reaaaaally good news..! Right?!” 

“I m-mean.. Y-yeah..”

“Hmm.. I feel a ‘but’ therrre~” 

Jaromir huffs, hating to admit the truth to come.. “B-But.. I don’t k-know what to do with i-it..”

“Uhh? What?” A scoff of a laugh, Noah feels as if Jaromir were telling him a joke just now. “You.. You don’t know what to do with it?”

“Mmh.. y-y-yeah..” Jaromir taps his fork softly to the cake, watching how the week-old cream still manages a fluff and cling to his anxious beatings. “I.. I don’t know h-how to sell it..”

“Hmm… wellll..” Noah taps at his chin in thought, completely ignoring the sweet and drink before him to instead focus on the mentioned issue. “I’m surrrrre some dealers I know could find use for it..”

“D-Dealers?” A hopeful look up to Noah.. “H-Honey dealers?”

“Drug dealers but..! That /is/ one’s honey.” Noah giggles and not even another kick under the table can get him to calm in his own bemusement. “Heheheheh! Come on, it cooould work out!”

“I don’t w-want to be associated with anything illegal..!” 

“Okay, okaaaay! Let’s think forrr real, then! Hmmmm…” Noah leans back in his whimpering chair to brainstorm. 

And finally giving into his hunger, Jaromir scoops up the portion he’d carved out and eats it. The very moment the dessert touches his senses, Jaromir is /moaning/. 

“Mmmh..!” The spiced pastry is out of it’s prime and yet it has him sounding out praise as if it were just made for him. 

And because it is so divine to his tastes, Jaromir begins to dig into the plated slice as if he hadn’t eaten in days or even weeks. “Mmhthisisg-g-g-ood!”

To see Jaromir so immediately perked by the dessert, Noah only giggles in glee as he claps his hands together in agreement. “Ohhh I know, I knoooow! Shiun makes the best desserts, heheh!”

“S-Shiun?” Swallow. “D-Do you know e-everyone?”

“Kiiiiind of.” Noah already begins to prepare another portion for his friend. “I worrrrked for him not too long ago.”

“W-Worked? And you /n-never/ told me?”

“It was around that wooing Romeo era, you know how that was.” 

Far too well.. It’s what put their friendship on the fringe because of that man’s toxicity. Jaromir really means it when he views Romeo as a poison that’s taken root in Noah. 

But he learned quickly that his warnings were for naught and so the man himself is rather taboo between them now. Casual mentions are fine, of course. But anything deeper is basically a line to never tread again; Noah can’t handle the truth and Jaromir isn’t one to refrain from it.

“Mmmh..” Jaromir simply hums, politely pushing his plate forward to welcome the second slice. 

Noah gives a nervous laugh as the topic hovers to go further but.. Knowing better, he changes it as a second or two passes. “Wellll, anyway.. Yeah, he owns a bake..rrry..” a thoughtful trill as Noah halts in his serving of cake. “..ssooo! The honey is good to sell, then?!”

“Uhm..? Y-Yes.. It is..” A very abrupt change in topic.. But ever expected when conversing with Noah. “I-I mean.. I-I need to jar it u-up and label and s-s-such but.. Yes..” 

“Purrrfect!” So cat like in how he lightens up, Jaromir can just imagine the tail and ears alongside his vibrating speech. “Okaaaay, well! Glad to see you’rrrrre doing well! But you and I got work to do, sooo!” 

“W-What?” Jaromir stampers, watching as his friend zooms and shuffles out of the creaky kitchen. Such a change in energy, he was certain that Noah was going to stay at least an hour as he normally does.. 

For a moment he is abandoned in his confusion but so very quickly does the thin man return with a quick side-embrace to his friend. 

SQUEEEEZE!

 “I’ve got a connection forrrr you and one that is legal! Keeeeep Friday open okay?! Shiun tends to be frrrree then!” 

“Y-Your old b-boss..?!” Jaromir squirms in the short hug, Noah quick to let go though not for the reason of Jaro’s discomfort. “W-Wait a minute, N-Noah Lee!”

The use of his full name ought to be enough to keep him for a second longer.. But unfortunately, the other is so filled with determination and hope that he just giggles it off and skips his way towards the front door. 

“Eat that caaaaake before then! But come in hungrrrry! I’ll text you laterrrr, sooo~! byeeee!”

So loud of a presence Noah always is that Jaromir can’t help but to feel a sort of discomfort with the abrupt silence that always accompanies after his departure. Days upon days of being alone, it’s easy to forget how quiet his home and these abandoned lands are. 

“T-That.. Was too much..” As it always is.. Jaromir sighs before reaching to bring the cake further. Dessert for lunch.. 

How his mother would smack him for this and call him out on weight gain.. Though, she would certainly give a harder scorning if she’d found out just how old Jaro had allowed this cake to get.. 

“I-I-I really do need to get back to h-her..” Another mutter, anything to fill this silence. To help him adjust to it once more.. A sigh.. “L-Later.. Though..”

[eightfunctionsharrypotter]

Function 5: It communicates meaning and furthers the narrative, especially in ambiguous situations.

Title: “A Window to the Past” Composer: John Williams Film: Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (2004) Director: Alfonso Cuarón

Harry Potter and Prisoner of Azkaban presents a transition in the style and music of the Harry Potter series. While this was the last film in which Williams worked as the composer, Columbus did not return as the director for this installment of the series. Instead, Alfonso Cuarón replaced Columbus as the director for the third film, which brought changes to how the story was represented. Cuarón abandoned the “Hollywood dazzle” (Webster 106) of the first two films, which meant that Williams shifted from the theatrical musical used in his first two film scores and explored different styles and genres of music (Webster 111-112) In accordance with this emotional development, the film and the music expands on the dimensions of the wizarding world. Webster explains, “the new landscape included lichen colored rocky hillsides, an overgrown pumpkin patch filled with cawing ravens, old-growth forests with chirping birds, and sun-drenched mountainous vistas (...) and added a walking bridge and a sundial to the Hogwarts grounds, all of which contributed to a greater awareness of the Hogwarts landscape and layout” (107). . The first two films seem to portray the wizarding world as that which profoundly bonds Harry with his parents. As Harry has become more aware the wizarding world, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban communicates that he experiences complex feelings about his relationship with them.

John Williams abandoned “Leaving Hogwarts” as the recurring leitmotif for family and love, replacing it with a theme that better reflects the more nuanced interconnecting emotions of grief, sorrow, and healing. Webster writes, “Williams responded to Cuarón's innovative visuals with innovative ideas for background music” (64). Instead, Williams composed a new piece entitled “A Window to the Past”, which incorporates elements of classical folk music and becomes associated with Harry yearning for his parents. …Webster explains, “the theme overall is much more musically complex than either of the themes from the first films and also changes to minor mode-which implies greater emotional weight or sadness” (375). While Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban estranges itself from the leitmotifs utilized in the past two films, “A Window to the Past” communicates the more nuanced meanings of the story, emphasizing the emotional narrative constructed around Harry.

The theme is most prevalent and significant in the scene depicting an emotional conversation between Harry and Remus Lupin, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. After learning Remus was close friends with his parents, Harry develops a bond with him, yearning for some sort of deeper connection with them. “A Window to the Past” is played as Remus consoles Harry, detailing the similarities between himself and his parents. As the music is influenced by the folk genre, it makes use of period instruments, such as the harpsichord. Comparably, the music represents the persistent bond between generations. Furthermore, the meaning of the music is enhanced by the location of this scene, which takes place on the walking bridge.

Notably, the scene in which “A Window to the Past” is first used depicts a moving photograph of his parents dancing. This is the first visual of his parents i the films that present them as a romantic couple as opposed to parents, indicating that Harry is becoming more aware of their individuality. Thus, “A Window to the Past” becomes the bridge between the past and the present, life and death, persisting in spite of the many uncertainties and mysteries in the story. 

References:

Webster, Jamie Lynn. “The Music of Harry Potter: Continuity and Change in the First Five Films.” University of Oregon Graduate School, University of Oregon, December 2009, pp. 1–694, https://scholarsbank.uoregon.edu/xmlui/handle/1794/10597.

Screenshots

Micah. “Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (2004).” Movie - Screencaps.com, 23 Mar. 2013, https://movie-screencaps.com/harry-potter-and-the-prisoner-of-azkaban-2004/.

[viltrumitesuperboy]

Souvenir (Newt Scamander x Reader)

Gender neutral. My dumbass changed the request so they aren’t already together I am sorry but they needed to meet first

EDIT/DISCLAIMER: I hadn’t watched the films in LITERALLY FOREVER i got some parts wrong but for the record the fantastic beasts book does not say what mooncalves eat and i had to go as creative as possible (... grass)

Requested by: NOT anon but i forgot who requested i’m so sorry Maybe Newt introducing his partner to all of his creatures and one of the creates (possibly another bowtruckle but up to you) getting really attached Flying together on Frank the thunderbird (he's a thunderbird right?) Oh fluffy adorable feeding the baby mooncalves (Can you tell I like cute things and all of his animals?)

Word Count: 1593

You first met Newt when you were out on a late night stroll.

People always said it was dangerous to walk outside late at night, but you had magic, and that would at least protect you from no-majs with ill intent. You would never expect to run into a wizard the way you did.

There was, after all, an Erumpent with a man in a bright blue coat making the strangest movements and sounds. It was certainly interesting. Another man stood off to the side, holding a bottle that was unmistakably one that was used for potions. Once the bottle spilled, you ran closer, hoping that you could counter the effects of the potion before it caused any damage. Instead, the Erumpent turned to him and charged. There was a lot of screaming.

You followed them over the hills of Central Park and a frozen river that you absolutely did not trust to hold the weight of a grown man, much less an Erumpent. You threw a quick spell to solidify it completely, and the three of you had managed to get the Erumpent into a very small case.

"Well, it looks like we've made a new friend!" the skinnier man in the blue coat said. "Thanks for helping."

"I really didn't do anything," you replied.

"Nonsense, you froze the river, didn't you? Wonderful spellwork, by the way," he complimented.

You warily looked at the no-maj, currently trying his best to brush off whatever he had spilled on himself. You knew how dangerous it was for them to know about magic.

"Oh, I'm Newt. This is Jacob. We've been gathering all the magical creatures that... are around the city," Newt explained.

"I'm (Y/N)," you said.

You held your hand out in greeting, and he took it with a mild shake. Jacob's was only slightly firmer.

"You know, I'm good with magical creatures. They were my favourites to look for in the forest of the school I went to. If you want, I can help," you offered.

Newt smiled brightly, and motioned back to the city that surrounded you.

"Well, we've finished with this, and we've got more to do. How about we find the rest of them?"

———

Newt opened his case on the floor, nodding to it with a smile.

"Go on. I promise it's safe," he assured you.

You gave him a stern look and climbed down the ladder into a small, wooden workshop.

"Is this an expanding charm?" you called up as he started to make his own way down. "Amazing work. It's rarely ever neat when I expand anything."

"Well, it helps that I've got other magic to keep everything where it is," he grinned. "Shall we?"

He gestured to the door. You pushed it open, your mouth open in shock as you took in the desert-like area around you.

"Newt!" you exclaimed. "Do you know how much work it takes to do this? You either have very powerful magic or a lot of time on your hands."

"Well I wouldn't say I'm very powerful," he humbly responded. "I've had this case for years, and I only started with a few of these areas. Now it's a lot more, but that's not the point."

He gestured to move on, and you followed wordlessly. The disturbance in the background made it clear that it was a piece of cloth rather than the actual background, and he pushed it aside to reveal the Erumpent you had helped him retrieve.

"I found her a while ago, and I'll be returning her home once she's ready. I'd bring you closer but after recent events, I think it would be better not to cause unnecessary damage to all of New York City."

You both laughed. He led you through another curtain to where the Niffler dove into a hole, and the bowtruckles were all on a tree together.

"I'm sure you already know the bowtruckles aren't as friendly as the others in this case, but Pickett likes to hang around me sometimes," Newt said.

He put his hand out for one of the bowtruckles, who climbed onto his hand and scampered up his arm, clinging to his bowtie for a few seconds. Newt had to pull Pickett off and back into his hand, and raised him up between the two of you. You were both met each other's eyes. He looked nervous for a split second, then brought up Pickett between your line of view.

"Say hello, Pickett! This is (Y/N)."

"Hi there," you smiled.

You waved your hand to the little green creature. He jumped from Newt's hand to your shirt, and found his way to the top of your head.

"Pickett! You know you need to ask before you climb someone like that," Newt scolded.

He had his hands on his hips and glared at the bowtruckle sternly. Pickett made a noise that sounded suspiciously like blowing a raspberry and rested himself in your hair.

"I think he likes me," you laughed. "Isn't it rare for bowtruckles to be this friendly?"

"Yes, but I think-"

Newt suddenly cut himself off as a blush grew on his face. You furrowed your eyebrows at him.

"You think what?" you asked.

"Um, I talk to the creatures about you sometimes? I think he remembered your name."

You hadn't known each other too long, but you figured it was enough to be good friends.

"Oh, that's nice. It's great to meet them," you said.

He gestured for you to follow him. He turned quickly as you walked, probably to hide his red face. By the time you reached a large nest, it was completely gone and replaced with a wide smile.

"This is an Occamy! They are usually very protective of their young, but I've earned her trust just enough. I'll be releasing her and her babies once they're a little more grown," Newt said.

The blue serpent-like creature inspected you as you approached the nest. A peer over the edge gave you a glimpse of a smaller Occamy, playing with its siblings. There were chirps coming from the nest. Newt brought you along to a different environment, one that looked more like a desert.

"And that's Frank," he said.

You both looked up to see a Thunderbird flying on his own in the sky. He began to drop down and land as he spotted you.

"Frank, this is my friend! Be nice," Newt said. "You can hold your hand out to him."

You hesitantly put your hand up, around where the bird's beak would be if he was in front of you. Frank shuffled his wings, then got closer until the feathers just under his eye were tickling your hand. You carefully stroked the feathers there, and he closed his eyes in content.

"I'm in America for a lot of reasons, and all of them are to bring these creatures back home," Newt said. "Tina and Queenie have been nice enough to let me stay with them while I'm still here."

"You're welcome to stay with me as well," you smiled.

You continued onto the next area, a quieter and darker one lit by a full moon on one of the curtains. The creatures were like a strange mix of a sheep and a cow with the largest eyes that didn't look like they would fit in their heads.

"Mooncalves!" you said, taking a few steps closer.

"Wait, come back. I'll have you feed them, since it's already time."

They were still a distance away. Despite their shy nature, they were still intrigued by the new addition to their temporary home. They started to get closer. After a few minutes of preparing the bowls with Newt, two of them had already gotten very close to you. They nudged your legs, knowing that you had something they wanted. When Newt walked with his bowl closer to the rest of the mooncalves, they all flocked to him. You followed behind, and some went to you.

"Throw a bit of this onto the ground right here."

He picked up a handful of what looked like rice grains and threw them across the ground. You did the same until the soil was mostly covered. Newt pulled out his wand and mumbled a spell, which caused the soil to cover the little grains and grass to spring up from where they dropped instead. The mooncalves rushed over to the grass and began to graze.

"Grass seeds! It's much more convenient than carrying grass or taking them outside when there's a full moon," Newt explained.

"That's amazing," you complimented, which he bashfully brushed off.

He took your bowl and put it away. A bowtruckle returned to his tree and a niffler nearly grabbing your pen lined with shiny metal later, you both returned to your small room. It was as if you'd entered another world or a dream and were now being pulled back into reality. You stood face to face with Newt, a grin present on his.

"If you're not staying in New York too long, I think maybe you'd need a souvenir before you go," you whispered.

"What's that?"

You took a step closer to him and slowly pressed your lips to his. He brought you closer, a hand on your back to keep the both of you steady. When you pulled away, he kept his hand there.

"That might be one of the best souvenirs I'll ever receive, but I think I can find one better."

"Can you really?"

He laughed breathlessly, and pulled you closer once more.

[earliebirb]

From the sick fic prompts, (20. “Will you carry me to bed?”) for stevetony

Thank you for the prompt. I hope you like it! 

love me tender

steve/tony, hurt/comfort, established relationship, 1701 words

(20 from this list)

“Sweetheart, you ready to go?”

Steve looks around the workshop, frowning when he doesn’t find Tony. Just as he is about to turn around and look elsewhere, he spots tufts of dark hair sticking out from the side of the workshop couch.

He grins, bounding over excitedly. He expects to find Tony lying on the couch with a tablet in hand, distracted in the way that he tends to get with work, giving it a single-minded focus that is almost eerily intense. Steve likes to joke that Tony probably wouldn’t even notice if Steve walked in naked, but Tony has vehemently rejected that suggestion, saying that if anything could take his attention away from work it would be the sight of his husband in his birthday suit. 

Steve has yet to test his hypothesis, but one of these days he might be tempted to actually do so.

What he finds instead, however, is his husband asleep on the couch, body curled in tightly on himself in a fetal position that looks highly uncomfortable. He stirs awake at Steve’s presence, eyes squinting open. It takes a few seconds for Tony to register the sight of Steve looking down at him.

“Oh, right. Burgers. Let’s go, baby,” Tony says, standing up slowly. His voice sounds odd and gravelly with something other than sleep, facial features set in a grimace. 

Steve steps closer, eyebrows furrowing when he spots the beads of sweat near Tony’s hairline. He presses the back of his palm to Tony’s forehead and isn’t exactly surprised when he finds it burning hot to the touch. 

Sighing with fond exasperation, he dabs at Tony’s sweat-damp forehead with his shirtsleeve. Tony sways on his feet, trying his best not to look as sick as he must be feeling and failing spectacularly. 

“Change of plans. Chicken soup for dinner, meds, and then a night of restful sleep.”

“What? No. I’m fine, honey. Come on, I promised you we’d go to that new diner you wanted to—”

“The only place you’ll be going to is straight to bed, mister.”

“But—”

“Burgers can wait.” Steve squeezes his shoulders, thumbs drawing circles reassuringly. 

Tony blinks languidly before succumbing to Steve’s embrace with a defeated sigh. The way he surrenders without putting much of a fight is a testament to how awful Tony must be feeling. Steve wraps his arms around him, rubbing his back soothingly. Tony’s shirt is already damp with sweat. 

“Sorry, baby. I know you were really excited about checking out that diner.” 

The reason Steve has looked forward to this diner date has more to do with the thought of spending much needed quality time with his husband than with the prospect of eating delicious diner burgers, although he suspects Tony thinks otherwise. Steve presses a gentle kiss to his temple. “Don’t apologize, silly. It’s not like you wanted to get sick.”

Tony’s eyes fall shut and he rests his heavy head upon Steve’s shoulder, like the mere act of standing upright is proving to be too much of an effort at the moment. 

“Will you carry me to bed?” Tony rasps weakly. He coughs a few times, sore throat protesting. 

“Of course, my darling.” Steve bends down to gather Tony in his arms, lifting him up bridal style before planting a kiss on his forehead. “I wish it were this easy to get you to come to bed most nights.”

A wan smile peeks out from where Tony’s face is buried in the crook of Steve’s neck. “Don’t get used to it.”

“I know you better than that, sweetheart.”

After tucking Tony in bed with multiple layers of blankets to keep him warm, Steve leaves for the kitchen to grab a glass of warm water. While he’s at it, he asks JARVIS to order a considerable amount of Tony’s go-to chicken soup from his favorite deli.

When he walks back into the bedroom, he feels his lips curve up into a helpless smile at the adorable sight of Tony on the bed, buried almost entirely under the sheets with only his head visible, propped up by several pillows. 

Kaleidoscopic lights dance on Tony’s face, projected from whatever is playing on the TV screen. 

“What are you watching?” Steve asks, making his way towards Tony. Whatever it is, it seems to have captivated most of Tony’s attention. 

“My number one feel-good movie,” Tony mumbles distractedly, eyes glued to the screen. Steve sets the glass on top of the nightstand before turning to see what movie is playing. 

Upon recognizing the film, his breath catches in his throat. 

He watches his own eyes staring right back at him from the widescreen TV. The familiar baby blues on the screen hold his gaze for the briefest of moments before dropping down to the ground, an easy yet bashful smile blooming on his face.

As he takes in the sight of the unadulterated joy on his own face, he thinks that even if a complete stranger were to watch the video, without any reference as to how various kinds of emotions would play out on Steve’s face, there would still be no mistaking the expression of his face on the screen for anything other than one of a man in love. 

The videographer’s voice comes through, off-camera:

“When did you know that Tony was the one?”

The camera maintains a cinematic close-up of his face as he ponders the answer. Steve remembers that day as if it was yesterday, sitting on a plush armchair in a wooden cabin, early morning sunlight streaming through the sheer white curtains. He remembers hearing the chirping of birds—a sharp contrast to the distant cacophony of Manhattan traffic that would usually accompany his mornings at the Tower. The lodges they had rented for the wedding were situated within a forest. A beautiful yet secluded area in the middle of the woods was the venue of their small and private wedding, attended by only the closest of family and friends. 

It was a wonderful day and he had felt jittery all morning, butterflies wreaking havoc in his stomach at the thought of pledging his life to Tony in just a few hours.

Steve sighs as he glances at Tony, smiling fondly at the way his husband continues to watch the film in silent rapture. 

“Aren’t you tired of watching this over and over again, sweetheart?” Steve asks, cupping the back of Tony’s neck and stroking his hairline with his thumb. 

“Shhh.” Tony reaches up to halt the movement of Steve’s hand, holding it in his instead. “We’re getting to the best part.”

Steve lets Tony pull him by the hand so he ends up seated beside Tony on the bed, joining him under the covers. He curls an arm around Tony’s shoulder and he feels Tony’s head shift from its position on the pillows, relocating to Steve’s chest with a quiet sigh.

On the screen, Steve looks off-camera at the videographer as he says:

“I think it was when… it occurred to me one day, that whenever I thought about the future, Tony was always in it.”

The Steve in the video smiles to himself, nodding wordlessly for a few moments.

“It’s like… the rest of my life won’t make sense unless he’s right there, by my side.” 

The video cuts to a picturesque, slow-motion shot of Tony in a separate cabin, staring at his own reflection in the mirror as he buttons up his dress shirt, looking nervous and pensive all at once. 

“I can’t—and I don’t want to—imagine my life without him,” Steve says, voice continuing as a voice-over as the video cuts again, this time to a shot of Rhodey helping Tony wear the jacket of his suit. Gentle music plays in the background, a heart-fluttering combination of piano and orchestral strings. 

“You looked really beautiful, sweetheart,” Steve whispers into Tony’s hair, his mind recalling the memory of himself tearing up when he first saw Tony all dressed up in his wedding tux. 

Tony huffs. “You have the makeup artist and hair stylist to thank for that. I was too busy trying to not have a panic attack.”

Steve chuckles. “So I heard. Thank God for Pepper and Rhodey.”

“Thank God for Pepper and Rhodey,” Tony echoes with a nod before letting out a series of violent coughs. Steve reaches for the glass on the nightstand and hands it to him, watching as Tony downs the water in grateful gulps.

After murmuring a quiet thanks, Tony settles back in his arms with a pained and miserable moan. Steve runs his hand up and down Tony’s stomach, frowning in sympathy. 

“Go to sleep, sweetheart. I’ll wake you when the soup’s here.”

Tony hums before turning to sleep on his side, body curling into Steve’s and face pressed into his neck, seeking warmth. Soft brown hair tickles Steve’s jaw and he presses a lingering kiss to the top of Tony’s head, wishing fervently for his husband’s speedy recovery. There are few things in life Steve hates more than a hurt or sick Tony.

The videographer asks Steve another question. “Three words to describe Tony?”

On the bed, Steve feels the way Tony’s breathing turns slow and steady, body going lax against his.

The Steve in the video turns quiet at the question, thoughtful eyes staring out the window as he gathers his thoughts. He remembers Sam chiding him for constantly looking out the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of Tony walking by. Their friends had insisted that they had to go at least an entire day without seeing or talking to each other before the wedding ceremony. 

Although they had definitely spent weeks away from each other before due to work, Tony’s absence was acutely unbearable for Steve that day. He was a cocktail of emotions, and the very person that was turning him into a mess of nerves was also the one person that could usually calm him down. 

When he finally turns to the videographer again, his blue eyes are bright and confident. As he answers the question, his smile morphs into something soft and private, the way it tends to at the thought of Tony:

“My better half.”

[matildashoney]

Daisy Mae // Part One

MASTERLIST // TAGLIST // TAGS

TAGLIST: @detroitkiwis​, @cronias13​, @irishfireandice​

Maggie isn’t really sure what to do at this point.

Harry is asleep, tucked away under the duvet, naked and comfortable. He would be waking up any minute, and the first thing he would see is his best friend hunched over the toilet throwing up or the ten – yes, she bought ten – pregnancy tests lining the sink. All with two bright pink lines.

Going outside the bathroom to try and find her birth control packet feels too dangerous, too risky. Harry couldn’t find out without Maggie there to tell him. He would be annoyed, certainly. His emotions were much more managed as an adult, as it was expected to be, however, there was a more significant reason for Harry to have his thoughts together. That reason, as always, was Maggie.

Maggie and Harry have been best friends since their earliest memories, even though she was two years older than he was. Anne and Patty – their mothers – were best friends, Gemma and Lucy – their older sisters – were best friends, and inevitably Harry and Maggie. Going to school together, playing together, doing all their work at the café in town that his family-owned, they were inseparable. Always there to protect each other and be best friends, they never let each other be upset or angry. Harry was seven when his parents got divorced, and Maggie was the first person he told. He cried behind the huge tree in his garden, and Maggie sat beside him, holding his hand and telling him that everything would be okay. Maggie was fourteen when her parents got divorced, and it was messy and destructive, to the point that Lucy went to live with their father. Harry sat in the study with her and hugged her tight. They were young, barely old enough to understand the feelings that were inside of them, and yet there they were comforting each other. Being the best friends that they could be.

Harry was there when Maggie had her first heartbreak. Harry was fifteen, Maggie was seventeen. He got in his first and only fight that day. Harry broke the boy’s nose and wrist outside the school and ran away with Maggie before anyone saw. He stood against the side of her house with her, his hands beside her head, his height just beginning to reach her as his hands brushed the tears on her face. His heart broke for his best friend, the one that he was secretly – or not so secretly – in love with, and Harry made a promise to himself that if Maggie ever gave him a chance, he would never, ever break her heart. Harry kissed Maggie for the first time that day. Maggie was Harry’s first real kiss.

And Harry never forgot it.

On Maggie’s eighteenth birthday, Harry asked what it would take for her to agree to date him, to ignore the age difference – which seemed to be her only argument against it – and have one date with him, to give it one chance. Maggie pecked Harry’s cheek, brushing his curls away from his face and smiled, Talk to me when I’m thirty. If I’m still single by then, well fuck all, I’ll marry you. Don’t want to get married but if no one likes me and you still think you could love me like that, I’ll marry you. Harry laughed and grinned and suggested they seal their deal with a kiss, and drunkenly, Maggie agreed.

And Harry never forgot that kiss either.

Harry complained when Maggie fell in love with a rugby player at university. His name was something ridiculous and when Harry travelled up to visit her for a weekend they fought because the boy found Harry threatening to their relationship. Maggie rolled her eyes and said that there was nothing to worry about, that they were just friends. Her calls became less frequent, though, and the visits became seemingly unimportant because that was her boyfriend and she wanted to respect his feelings and wishes – even if they were only because of his own insecurity. That is until Maggie found him having sex with her roommate while she was in a lecture. Harry was there when Maggie called him crying and saying that she was coming home. Harry was always there.

Maybe that’s what Maggie is afraid of, that this time, that Harry won’t be there. He’s only twenty-six. That’s awfully young to be a father. He should be there. Harry would never leave Maggie alone, but there is guilt sitting on her chest, in her lungs where oxygen should be, and making her feel overwhelmed.

If Maggie was being honest, she always imagined having a baby with the man she loves most in the world. And yes, Harry is the man she loves most, right now, but that’s because Harry is her best friend. Harry is the only boy to never break her heart, and there is a love in her heart that will always be there because there is a bond between them that will never be broken. Harry and Maggie, friends forever. That’s isn’t a relationship and children kind of love, though. Is it?

And in addition to that, now Maggie has to worry about telling Harry that they’re about to have a baby.

Harry grumbles in his sleep, irritated with the chirping birds and the sunlight passing through the drawn curtains and the way his arms are missing the body they fell asleep holding eight hours earlier. His Saturday mornings are rarely spent alone, and if he was being honest, Harry prefers it that way. His favourite way to wake up on his only day away from the café is with her in his arms, likely naked, and clinging to him as desperately as he clings to her throughout the night. Her hands always inch to his thighs by the morning time, and when they’ve had a bit rougher week, their weekend usually begins with sloppy sex and exhausted kisses before fresh bagels from downstairs.

On a Friday night, Harry and Maggie’s arrangement begins later in the evening – following an unsuccessful date or one too many drinks at the pub with their friends or one of them really needing a satisfying shag after a stressful work week – and everything will come to an end on a Sunday night, falling asleep to a film that neither really pay any attention to. Mornings begin with languid kisses and whispered plans for the evening. Middle of the day is always a guess, anything to spend time together. Nights end with tangling in the sheets and feeling heavy against each other. And everything works for them. Harry and Maggie enjoy it.

Harry would love to have this arrangement for a more official title, Maggie knew this, but Harry knows well enough that Maggie wouldn’t. He knew that this wouldn’t last forever. One day, Maggie would meet someone that she loved more than she loved him, that proposed and promised her a life far superior to the one that he could promise with the café and the tiny two-bedroom apartment that resided on the floor above. He would take this for all he could, though. There was something about Maggie, something that made Harry feel like his heart was in flames.

Harry remembers the moment he kissed Maggie for the first time – not the kiss when they were teenagers, the first real kiss – two years ago. That kiss changed Harry’s life forever and certainly changed Maggie’s.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　✧･ﾟ

Harry takes Maggie’s wrist, tugging her into his chest and brushing his nose against hers, smiling at the way her tongue flicks across her lips and her eyes meet his gaze and his mouth. His senses are overwhelmed by her, by the sweet smell of her perfume – the one she binged on for her birthday and bought luxury after asking his opinion – and the way her breath is fanning against his skin. His gut is telling him to kiss her, to abandon the nervous laughter and the awkward way of asking and the possibility of rejection. Her body language is giving him every sign that he should, that it would be graciously accepted and wanted.

And Harry is willing to take that chance.

“Make me wait on a kiss any longer and I’ll have to start it.”

Harry smirks, dipping his head to Maggie’s height and meeting her lips, savouring in the velvet feeling and the sweetness of her lip gloss, smiling at the way her arms wrap around his waist and their bodies are nearly melting into each other. His kiss is soft, gentle. He’s been waiting for much of their friendship to do this. All the years of pining and loving her from afar are closing in on this moment, with their favourite artist singing in the background, all of their friends teasing and cooing the affection that has been waiting to happen for years.

Maggie basks in the sensation of Harry’s lips on hers, the tingling fire that is set through her cheek and the way his touch is crawling beneath her skin. Her thoughts are overwhelmed by the idea that she’s been pushing her best friend away romantically, intimately, for so many years, that this enticing, intoxicating kiss and touch may be in every way possible for her. Feelings that she’s never felt before, that she’s never experienced. One that she wants to continue feeling. Her lungs barely hold any oxygen, but she doesn’t care. Her lips almost yearn for his to always be attached, to always be close by – on her cheeks, her jaw, her neck, her hands, her body – simply to feel the electricity in her veins.

Leon Bridges sings melodically in the background, “Girl, you know, I am bound by your love. You’re the one I wan’a be around all the time.”

“Come back to mine,” Harry whispers against her mouth, his thumb and forefinger holding her chin and tracing over her swollen lips. “Come on, Mags, let me be around you.”

“Only once,” Maggie concedes, the thoughts in her mind betraying her with ideas about being around Harry much more than either would have believed would happen with their relationship – in her mind, that is. “Try it once.”

His smirk spreads across his lips in a way that makes butterflies swirl in her stomach and the alcohol to float to her brain with the tipsiest thoughts. “More than enough for me.”

And Harry leans in, kissing Maggie deeper, his hands tangling in her hair, disregarding the entirety of the world and soaking in the uptown girl that happens to be his best friend and the woman he’s in love with, and the one with her lips attached to his.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　✧･ﾟ

Maggie wipes her mouth on the towel set beside the sink, her teeth brushed, and face washed to try and break the wave of nausea that is sitting in the pit of her stomach. Her eyes glance over the tests, and there is a part of her that wants to hide all ten and pretend that this isn’t happening, that she isn’t pregnant, that this life that she has – that for once in her life she really enjoys – wouldn’t change. Her head is pounding, feeling as though her brain would implode with the pressure against her skull. Her thumb passes over the digital screen on one test, 3+ weeks, and there isn’t one specific memory that triggers in her brain as the ‘aha’ moment that would make her realise how she’s gotten pregnant.

One thing is for certain, Maggie is organised and meticulous.

That’s part of the reason Harry is able to run the café so well. His grandparents gave him the café in their will because of how much he loves it, and his charisma and charm really make him the best owner. His unorganised tendencies, however, are absolutely chaotic and would cause bankruptcy by thirty had Maggie not helped when he asked. He was young and inexperienced in the business realm and Maggie was willing to teach him what she knew from the one or two business courses she took at university before settling on an education career.

… so, there really wasn’t any way that she would have missed her birth control. Unless it didn’t work. And Maggie has a heavy feeling it didn’t work.

“Mags.”

Harry’s voice travels into the bathroom, taking Maggie out of her trance and bringing her into reality. Holding her breath, her hands adjust the hem of her shirt, tugging it over her stomach and tying her hair into a ponytail and walking into the living room, Harry’s feet dangling over the edge of the bed the only visible part of him. All of the lights are turned off, the only radiance coming from the sun, and as Maggie walks into the room her heart sinks into the pit of her stomach, staring at the sweet boy that maybe she does love romantically a little bit, the tiniest amount, and the idea that is implanted in her brain that he might not be the same way around her.

“Come back to bed,” Harry grumbles, turning onto his back and reaching his arms out for her. “Wan’a love on you.” His voice is raspy and drawn out with the slurred syllables, and at that moment, Maggie wishes that there was more to their arrangement than the sex, that maybe, one day, they might really love on each other, ‘make love’ as they say even though she hates the phrase.

As always, Maggie sighs and gives in, walking around the metal frame – that she helped him decide on when he moved in a few years ago – and sinking into his arms. Harry lays above her, smiling as he sponges kisses along her neck and jaw, his hands sliding beneath the hem of her shirt she stole from his drawer. His teeth nip at her shoulder, the exposed skin from the worn-out and tattered shirt and kissing over the slight bruise. His hands squeeze her hips, trying to coax a reaction out of her – a moan, a whimper, a sigh, a kiss, anything – to know that she wants the intimacy, too.

“Alright,” Harry whispers, kissing her cheek and leaning back on his heels. “What’s going on? Usually, all I have to do is kiss you and you’re, y’know, opening your legs fo’ me, which isn’t an insult, ‘s quite an ego boost.”

“I’m fine, H,” Maggie hums, forcing a tight-lipped smile and tugging on his arm to bring him back. Maybe if Harry kisses her, she’ll forget all about the tests on the bathroom counter. “Kiss me, again.”

“Told you I’d never force you into anything and I meant it.” Harry stares at Maggie, knowing that there is something behind the worrying line in her forehead and the way her throat bobs every time she swallows. “Did something happen with that bloke last night? Is it your class? Talk to me.”

“Harry, leave it be.”

Can’t leave it be for much longer, you’ll be huge in a few weeks.

Harry and Maggie sit in silence for a few minutes, waiting for the other to speak, waiting to break the silence that loomed awkwardly above them. And when Maggie doesn’t talk, as Harry expected, his frustration returns.

“For an intelligent woman that teaches children how to share their feelings, you’re pretty fuckin’ dense sometimes,” Harry puffs, clambering off the bed and leaving the bedroom, pausing at the doorway to turn around and face her as she brings her knees into her chest and stares at him through hooded eyes. “All I ever ask is that you talk to me. Been this way since we were kids, y’know? Went through all that childhood shit together and you still won’t open up to me. Hate being annoyed with you but sometimes you really piss me off.”

“I’m well aware.”

“And she speaks!” Harry exasperates, tossing his hands in the air and clapping his hands over his heart and nodding to her dramatically, the sarcastic smile that Maggie hates on his lips. He has always been petty, a bit jealous, especially frustrated when she didn’t speak to him about how she is feeling. “Care to share with the class, now?”

“You’re so irritating,” Maggie mutters, swinging her legs over the bed and brushing beside him to step into the kitchen, pouring the freshly brewed coffee – she spends so much time there that she’s bought a pre-programmed coffee pot – into a mug. Her education at least taught her that she could drink one cup of coffee while she’s pregnant, and it would be savoured. “Can you stop staring at me?”

“Only day of the week that you have me all to yourself and you’re being difficult.”

Maggie takes a slow sip from her mug, staring at Harry as he stands between the barstools and leans over the built-in bar set above the kitchen sink. “Isn’t that what you like, Styles? The adrenaline that the chase gives you.”

“Over the last two years, the only thing I’ve had to chase with you is an orgasm, Chicken.”

“Are you ever going to stop calling me that? Not like we’re ten anymore,” Maggie pauses, pursing her lips in a smirk etched with sarcasm, simply to get under his skin. “Well, you were eight.”

Harry returns the smirk, brushing the hair away from his eyes and sliding on the tortoise-shell glasses that sit on the counter. “Maybe I’ll stop calling you that when you don’t hide away between my sheets when a bloke says he likes you.”

“Never seem to complain to me, considering you’re getting your dick wet.”

“Never seem to complain to me, considering it doesn’t take much to get you on mine.”

“You’re an asshole.”

Harry smiles, walking around the island and taking the mug from her hands and setting it on the opposite counter, wrapping his arms around her waist and pressing a hard kiss to her jaw. “Only an asshole to you because you let me tease you.” His kisses trail from her jaw to her cheek to the corner of her lips, repeating the path on the other side of her face. “Are you going to stop being difficult and let me kiss you, now?” Harry’s hands travel along her bum, squeezing the curves and lifting her onto the bare counter, very much aware that she isn’t wearing any underwear. “Not even wearing m’briefs, today. How much would you like to bet that my hand goes between your thighs, you’re going to be a mess? Know you like the arguing. Makes you feel all hot.” Maggie gulps, nodding silently. “Use your words, lovey.”

Gently taking his glasses and setting them on the counter beside her, Maggie mumbles, “Can fuck me on the counter with your hand over m’mouth, if you’re right.”

Maggie would have to be quiet as he thrusts into her, otherwise, everyone is going to know what they’re doing on their day off, with the breakfast rush circling through the café downstairs and causing a raucous through the thin walls and wood flooring.

Harry smirks, knowing full well that he is. “You know how to seal a deal.”

Maggie cards her fingers through his curls, bringing his mouth to hers and kissing him deeply, their teeth biting at their lips and fighting for dominance that Harry was bound to win. His knuckle dips between her folds, collecting the arousal that leaked onto her thighs, a wide smirk on his lips as she moans into his mouth and he breaks their kiss, his knuckle between his lips as he suckles on her taste. “That good enough for you?”

“Not entirely but there’s always the lunch break.”

“Think I’ll let you go down on me?”

Harry grins, sponging wet kisses along Maggie’s collar bone, his hands bringing her to the edge of the counter, her thighs spread to welcome his body closer, her ankles hooking around his waist and her arms wrapping around his shoulders, fingertips tangling in his hair and nails scratching lightly at his scalp. “Know you’ll let me, but the way you’re squeezing me, right now, is telling me that you don’t want to wait.”

Maggie tugs on Harry’s hair, her lips slanting onto his in a kiss that takes his breath away, his thumbs tucking into the waistband of his briefs and kicking the cotton away from his feet. His hand pumps his cock twice, before gently taking Maggie’s wrist and bringing her hand to his chest, sucking on her lip and silently begging her to touch him. His shaft is heavy in her hand, the way she so effortlessly turns him on and the hardness that was apparent every morning working to make his arousal leak from the bright red tip slapping against his stomach. Her thumb brushes over him, making his breath shudder against her neck.

“Don’t make me wait.”

Harry hums in response, taking her hand and kissing her palm, tugging on her wrist to lead her hand to his hair and teasing his cock at her core, her arousal soaking his tip and making him shiver with anticipation. Maggie is the best sex of Harry’s life – always tight and warm around him, velvet and smooth and squeezing him in the best way, taking him so perfect that he reaches the hilt, as far as she could take, the orgasms long and heavy and leaking out of her – and he wasn’t ashamed to crave the intimacy.

Maggie’s heat clenches around Harry’s cock as he slowly, inch by inch, sinks into her warmth. Her moan is whimpered and desperate, her fingertips digging into his shoulders, squeezing her eyes shut as his hips grind against her in the way she adores, the way that brings her the most pleasure, that makes her squeeze his cock so deeply inside of her that he reaches the very hilt every time that makes her see stars. His hand clasps over her mouth as his cock reaches the velvet spot that makes her scream, his name muffled into his palms with a squeak as his fingertips dig into her bum.

Harry nearly pulls all the way out, squeezing his hand over her mouth a bit harder and thrusting into her, their hips colliding and his balls smacking against her bum, the smacking sound echoing through his quiet kitchen. Her orgasm was coming quickly, the way her core was clenching him so tightly telling him so.

“Have you in any room in m’house, in the office, in m’car all the time, don’t I, lovey? Thought you’d never be with me and now you want me to fuck you on my kitchen counter,” Harry pants, releasing his hand on her mouth and kissing her neck harshly, barely grazing his teeth on her skin to prevent anything noticeable to be seen by her co-workers Monday morning. “Never want this to end. Know you want to be with me.”

Maggie moans Harry’s name, his thumb drawing on her clit and her head knocking back against the cabinet. Her breathing is shaky, and her orgasm is so close she can taste it. “And what does that mean?”

“Don’ know,” Harry grunts, Maggie squeezing him so tightly as she orgasms that his orgasm spills into her without warning. “Kids or summat. No marriage.”

“Already did that,” Maggie breathes, her thighs shaking around Harry’s waist as she leans against the cabinet. Harry’s forehead is resting on her chest, trying to regain his breath.

And then it hits him. Already did that.

Harry lifts his head, his fingertips gently grabbing her chin and making their faces meet. “Wait, what?”

Maggie doesn’t open her eyes, sinking into the way his hand feels on her skin and his thumbs are rubbing her thigh comfortingly. “What?”

“Already did what, Mags?”

And that’s what makes Maggie open her eyes, Harry’s eyes widened and his eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. His shaft is still deep inside her, and every tiny movement is making her senses go into overdrive. “Oh shit.”

“Oh shit, what, Maggie?”

“Give me a second,” Maggie whispers nervously, squeezing his shoulders as he gently helps her onto her feet, his cock soft against his thighs as he reaches for his briefs and tugs the material up his legs. Her legs are slightly shaking as she walks into the bathroom, oblivious to Harry following closely behind, taking every pregnancy test and shoving it into her drawer near the sink. His hand touches her shoulder, her hands clutching onto the countertop to break the wave of nausea overtook her. “Fuck.”

Maggie’s body flings over the toilet, gagging as the morning sickness waves over her empty stomach. Harry knows what Maggie was saying, and there is an uneasy feeling in his chest. He certainly wasn’t expecting this to be the way their day started. His body crouches down beside her, tightening the ponytail on her head and rubbing his hand over her back, gently kissing her shoulder comfortingly.

“Take a breath,” Harry whispers, his heart breaking as a tear slips down her cheek, her forehead laying on her forearms as she hides away from his stare. “Don’t hide, it’s okay.”

Maggie doesn’t say anything, flushing the toilet and closing the lid, moving to the sink and frantically brushing her teeth to rid her tongue of the wretched taste. Her hands grab the towel, patting her mouth dry, her hands holding onto the counter as she squeezes her eyes shut and takes a breath. Her hands reach for the drawer she hurriedly shut, opening the space for Harry to see, taking a seat on the toilet cover and hiding her face in her hands.

“Alright,” Harry says, holding the pregnancy test in his hands and staring at the two bright pink lines on the white paper. His hand reaches for another, the digital screen saying, Pregnant 3+ Weeks, in printed black letters. He could see clear as day what Maggie meant, but he needed to hear her say it. “Alright.”

Harry turns around, his heart breaking as Maggie cries silently into her hands. He always hated seeing her cry. From the time they were four and six, Harry was doing everything he could to make sure Maggie would never cry.

“Hey, Mags, look at me,” Harry whispers, sitting on the tile and squeezing her knees, kissing her thigh sweetly and trying to get a better glance at her face. “Baby.”

Maggie’s face lifts immediately; they rarely call each other ‘baby’. There are some moments that it slips, that Maggie is brushing her fingers through Harry’s hair to bring him away from his work or Harry’s thrusting relentlessly into her and wants to praise her for taking him so well. Never outside of the bedroom, like this, though. It was an unspoken rule that Harry never agreed to; it meant that their arrangement was only sex, nothing more, leaving the terms of endearment to the person they settle down with.

Not that either of them has ever settled down with anyone besides each other.

Harry smiles softly, “Come on, Mags, you need a hug. Think your love tank is empty.”

“Don’t think it is, but alright,” Maggie sighs, standing on her feet and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, sinking into his embrace. “Maybe it was a little empty.”

“Mags.”

Maggie doesn’t move, Harry’s embrace too tight and comforting around her. “Hm.”

“Am I allowed to say something?” Maggie nods silently and squeezes Harry shoulder to tell him to continue. “Don’t want you to think ’m pushing you into anything. Know that I wouldn’t do that, right? Anything we do, it’s all up to you,” he says, brushing his hands along her spine, kissing her neck and squeezing her tighter into his chest.

“Already know what you’re thinking,” Maggie whispers, opening her eyes and staring at the test sitting on the counter. “You think we should have it. Don’t you?”

“’s your choice, whatever you want to do. ‘m here for you, one hundred percent, like always.” Harry takes a deep breath, turning his face slightly and brushing his nose against her cheek, staring into her eyes and allowing his lips to tug into a shy smile. “Think that if anyone could do this, it would be us. Mags, we’ve known each other our whole lives; ‘s not like we’re strangers having a baby because of a one-night stand.”

“Our whole relationship is going to change,” she whispers, tears welling in her eyes and her breathing getting shaky as her lip wobbles. “Don’t want to lose you as my best friend. Can’t see you leave. ‘s my fear, you know that.”

“Mags, I’ll never leave you,” Harry says, kissing Maggie’s temple and squeezing his arms around her waist, his lips tugging into a smile as she hugs him tighter, his hands gently rubbing her back. “Haven’t you caught onto that by now? I love you. I’ve got you. Always do. Have since we were four years old.”

“How are we going to do this? My flat is barely functioning, as it is, and I don’t have a spare room. Not to mention work, I’ll be leaving my students midway through the term.” Her breathing is shaky as her fingertips twirl around the curls at the nape of his neck. “Are we supposed to share the baby? Don’t want to do it how our parents did. All of this is so much.”

Harry grabs Maggie’s cheeks, his hands cupping her jaw and his freshly painted nails – the lilac colour one that she chose for him earlier in the week – dragging along her skin. “Maggie, listen to me, alright? This isn’t all on you to figure out.”

“But isn’t it?”

“Mags, I have that spare room that I’ve never made into anything. Grandad used it for his workshop when Mum moved out. Can make that into a nursery. And it’s not like we’re not already sharing a bed and a shower, you know. ‘s like you’re living here a majority of the week anyway. Can do this, you and me. Know so.”

“Are we supposed to, like, be together, now or summat? Is that what we’re supposed to do? Fuck,” Maggie sighs, her forehead dropping to his collarbone and her hot breaths panting onto his bare torso.

“Mags,” Harry soothes, gently brushing his fingers through her hair, kissing her head sweetly, “baby, can you take a breath, please? For me? One really big breath.” Maggie sucks in a breath and lets the shakiest release heave in her chest. “Good, lovey.” His hand squeezes her hip encouragingly. “Don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. ‘m not seeing anyone besides you. ‘m happy to keep it that way. ‘m all yours, whichever way you want me.”

There Harry goes with the pet name again. He’s going to make Maggie melt into the ground if he calls her that one more time.

“Our families are going to moan about how we’re not together and should’ve been married or at least told them that we’re dating. Our sisters are going to show how we were the fucked ones.”

“Our families set us up for failure with their examples of marriage, didn’t they?” Harry kisses Maggie’s temple, “Can tell them we’re dating, alright? Comfort them and give us time to figure things out with us.”

“Mum is not going to believe us.”

“M’mum will.”

“Mum thinks ‘m easy and that’s why no one will date me,” Maggie sighs, her heart sinking into her stomach. “Mum compares everything I do to Lucy and how she’s more successful than I am.”

“Maggie,” Harry says softly, his arms around her shoulders and trying to think how to better comfort her, “you are so incredibly successful. Have a whole classroom to yourself and students that adore you. Have great friends.” His shoulders shrug, making her smile into his neck and hug him tighter. Harry was only a slightly taller, Maggie fitting perfectly into his side. “Think I’m not too bad, either.”

“No,” she says quietly, “you’re okay.” Moving away from his neck, Maggie meets his eyes with a shy smile. “Kept you around this long for a reason.”

“It’s alright to be scared.” His words are encouraging, reassuring. He is so scared. This is all new territory, an entirely new experience. “Christ, I’m scared out of my mind, but it’s clear to me that whatever we decide, if you decide that you want to have it, we’ll be better.”

“Think so?”

“Doesn’t mean much since I have zero experience with children, but I believe it. Think we could be much better.” Harry tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear, the gesture simple yet affectionate all at once. “All you have to do is tell me, Mags.”

“Me too.” Maggie sucks in a deep breath, the silence washing over the two for a few minutes as she thinks carefully about her decision. Maybe Harry is right. Maybe they could do this better. Maybe they will. That’s what she chooses to believe. “Guess we’re having a baby.”

Harry smiles, nodding silently, kissing her hairline and hugging her into his chest once more. “Guess so.”

~

Harry and Maggie take the day to really understand what is happening.

Quiet conversations during their lunch at the breakfast table situated in the makeshift dining space, Harry taking the opportunity to make dinner and talk about when they’d like to tell their parents, when they’d like to tell their friends – who surely have already caught into the fact that they’re together in the untraditional sense. Maggie made an appointment at a nearby clinic in the morning when Harry would be in the café for the morning shift, simply to take a blood test and know that she is pregnant – although there were ten positive tests, a negative result seems unlikely – and would tell him everything when she returned.

Nights were typically when, if they were being honest, their benefit arrangement was entirely in effect. Harry and Maggie christened every corner in the apartment, and yet it was Harry’s bedroom that they found themselves most comfortable in. Maybe it’s because it was more intimate, which was something that they craved with each other although unspoken. Maybe it’s because that was where Maggie let Harry kiss her deeper, passionately. Maybe it’s because it felt like theirs.

Harry and Maggie are laying beneath the duvet tonight, instead, her bare thighs tossed over his legs as he quietly sips on his beer, mindlessly watching the programme on the television as she immerses herself in poetry, his fingertips drawing circles on her knees carelessly. Their silence isn’t bothersome, rather nice in the way that her thoughts have been everywhere and anywhere for fourteen hours. Her lips tuck into a straight line, reading one poem over and over again, trying to understand why the words made her want to cry. Harry kissed her over two years ago, and since then, there have been other men that have kissed her, that have made the attempt to go further, and yet, there she is, laying in his bed, in his clothes, with his hands on her skin.

“That night, at the Leon Bridges concert,” Maggie says, drawing Harry’s attention and making him lower the volume. “What made you want to kiss me? Like, why then? Hadn’t kissed each other in years, at that point.”

“That’s why,” Harry shrugs, taking a heavy sip from the glass bottle and setting it on the coaster beside his wooden nightstand, his eyes falling to her legs. “Hadn’t kissed you in years. Nothing more than a kiss on the cheek for what, eight years?” His words are a bit slurred, but very much aware of the seriousness of their conversation. “Not very much fun for me.”

“Harry,” she sighs, “you’ve had girlfriends since that kiss at my eighteenth.”

“And?”

Her hands close the book and set it on the nightstand behind her, leaning on her forearms and staring at him. “Make it sound like you’ve not kissed anyone in eight years. Not that you haven’t kissed me.”

“Not exactly who I wanted to be kissing, though.” Harry takes another sip, the bottle nearly empty. “Haven’t you realised that you’re the only stable relationship I’ve ever had?” He chuckles breathlessly, “And you won’t even properly date me.”

“H,” Maggie breathes, her lips turning into a pout, her legs curling beneath her and swinging over the edge of the bed as Harry does the same, grabbing his wrist before he can walk out of the bedroom.

“Don’t go all teacher-y, on me, now. Don’t need to comfort me like one of your students.”

“Harry, that’s not fair.”

Harry turns on his heel, gently prying her hand away from his wrist, leaning his shoulder against the doorframe, his tall stature making him nearly reach the arch. “All this is quite funny, y’know that?”

Maggie folds her arms in front of her chest. “How is it funny?”

“’Cause whether you wanted to or not, now we’re pretty much tied together for life. Eighteen years, at least.” His eyes flicker to her tummy, not yet growing or visible. “Can’t have someone take over fo’ me as your best friend when we share a baby.”

And that’s when Maggie realises what happened, what caused this shift in Harry’s demeanour. One of their friends rang her after they finished lunch, asking how her date went Friday night. They always mention Harry, too. Naturally, Maggie answers with a witty lie about how they’ve talked but haven’t seen each other – even though they had sex the night before and this morning.

“You always do this,” she sighs sadly, standing against the wall outside the bedroom, her head nearly hitting the frame that holds his favourite picture of the two from a family wedding a few years ago.

“Do what?” Harry wonders, tossing the glass bottle in the bin along with the previous three. He reaches for two glasses, pouring himself and her one to bring to bed. He was exhausted and simply wanted to fall asleep and forget.

“Get jealous when you see that someone is talking to me,” Maggie says flatly. “Get jealous when one of our friends mentions a date I went on.” Her heart aches with the words tumbling from her lips without consent. “We’re not together, Harry. Could go out on dates, if I wanted.”

“Don’t ‘ave to tell me, Mags.” Harry forces a smile onto his mouth, and Maggie swears she’s never seen Harry look so upset with her. “’m always the one you call when they don’t work out, ‘member?”

Her eyes well up with tears, unable to really comprehend what she’s being told. He’s right. One hundred percent correct. That’s what makes this hurt more. “Don’t be so harsh to me.”

“Not trying to be harsh,” he sighs, running his hands over his face frustratedly and sucking in a deep breath. “Forget it.”

“No, I want to talk about it,” Maggie says, nodding as Harry hands her the water and nods to walk inside the bedroom.

He sets the water on the coaster, drawing the curtains shut and turning the television off for the evening. “Now?”

“Yes.” Her hands move to her hips, trying to contain her emotions, his stance seeming so harsh and distant. He was never this way with her. His warmth always made everything better, and yet, in this moment, everything about him is screaming that he would be cold to the touch. “Don’t go to sleep angry with me.”

“Not angry with you,” Harry assures, turning the light and climbing beneath the comfort, patting the mattress where Maggie always sleeps and smiling to coax her inside. “Have an early morning tomorrow, I want to go to sleep.”

“Do you want me to go home?”

He shakes his head, turning his torso towards her and holding out his arm, smiling as she takes his hand and turns her light, tucking the duvet over her waist and welcoming him into her arms. “Never want you to leave, Mags,” Harry whispers.

“Alright.” Maggie kisses Harry’s shoulder, smiling as his muscles ease with her touch. Maybe he wasn’t so far away, after all. “I love you,” she whispers, her heart sinking as he waits to reciprocate her kiss to his lips.

“Know you do, just not like I love you.” Harry tucks her hair behind her ear, kissing Maggie’s forehead and muttering. “That’s okay.”

Harry turns onto his side, facing away from Maggie, reaching for her hand to wrap around his waist and cuddle him as tightly as possible. His biggest fear is feeling her slip away, to have her disappear. Heartbreak is devastating and there is something in the way he feels as though he could never recover from losing her that scares him the most. And so, Harry takes the midnight hugs and quiet kisses and soundless sleep, trying to memorise the way it makes him feel, the way she makes him feel.

For Harry, it was never a question of if they would be together, rather when. And this was their when. He has one opportunity to show that this could work, that they could work. Because even if Maggie isn’t in love with Harry, right now, that doesn’t mean it would be impossible to have her fall in love with him. Having been loosely together for nearly two years, there has to be love there. Has to. Harry should at least try. He owes it to himself, to at least give a wholehearted try when he has the opportunity.

And Harry will.

Harry falls asleep, thinking about how much he loves the woman holding him, and Maggie lays awake for hours, with the loveliest man in her arms, thinking about how her very best friend loves her in the way she is petrified to love him.

[turtletimewriting]

Logan’s Adventure- To the doctor’s

Summary: What it says on the tin!

Note: Woop woop! I actually found some motivation to write so feeling good about these ones! I will say, there isn’t any tickling in this one so if you’re reading purely for the tickles then sorry! 

This is based on the tickle forest idea by fluffomatic so check them out!

Beginning!--- Patton’s part!

_._._

“Well where do you think we should go?” Virgil asked. Logan took a pause to consider the options.

“Well all options are valid and useful so I guess-”

“Cool because if you don’t really have a strong opinion, then I say we’re going to the doctors,” Virgil stated and marched on the stoned road leading straight into the village. Logan huffed a laugh at him, “Just... I guess now that you’ve mentioned it, I don’t want to end up getting bitten or a rash or whatever.”

“Sounds good to me,” Logan smiled before shyly linking their hands together.  

Now it was of course no surprise to see that the side that looked like a prince straight from a Disney film would create a medieval European village. The houses all stood tall with dramatic black wooden frames but still somehow made them feel at home immediately. Maybe it was because everyone they passed waved and nodded at them and the first house they passed had a mother placing a hot apple pie on the windowsill. There was colourful bunting strung up the old fashioned oil lamps and they could both almost hear the Disney-esque music playing in the background. It was a short walk until they came across the doctors. 

Walking in, the receptionist smiled widely and waved them over. Luckily, the waiting room was pretty much empty with only one girl fidgeting and tapping her foot. “Hello lovelies! How can I help?” The receptionist spun on her office chair to face them. Despite how friendly everyone was, Virgil automatically kept looking around the office leaving Logan to do the talking.

“Hello, I’m afraid we don’t have an appointment nor are we actually ill. This is our first time... travelling through and we wou-”

“Oh!” The lady butted in and started typing furiously on the computer, “That’s no problem. So would you like a drop-in session to go over how to protect yourselves and basic aid for the wildlife here, right?”

“That’s sounds great, thank you.”

“No problem. I just need to ask some questions so the doctor knows what to ask you all about?” 

“Go ahead.”

“Right, so firstly names?” The receptionist asked much to both of their surprise. Usually most of Roman’s creativity meant that any imagined space and people knew them. Typically every villager would rave about a certain red clad prince hero, they would bake for a certain lovely young man in bright blue, Logan made an effort to challenge the professors and every villager knew to leave the poor shy man in black to himself. 

They both answered basic questions about themselves before the receptionist boredly asked one last question that froze them, “Okay last one, are you lees or lers or switches?” 

“Uh... what?” Virgil whipped round to actually face her for once and Logan simply bluescreened. 

“Do you prefer being tickled, the ticklee, or tickling someone, being a tickler? Or, of course, a little bit of both?” The receptionist asked as if she was simply asking them what they’re favourite colours were. 

“Of course Remus would also create not only paperwork but... stupid questions,” Virgil grumbled but he already knew he was going to answer quickly. Yes this was an anxious nightmare but then he wasn’t about to cause a scene to someone innocently doing their job. He’d just have to get Remus later.

“I’d say both... switches?” Logan asked with a nervous look to Virgil. 

“Yeah?” The lady asked clearly wanting a bit more.

“I’d agree with that but I do think it’s important to note that Logan here leans strongly to the lee side,” Virgil quickly butted in.

“What?” Logan demanded.

“Okay great! You’re all good to go. You won’t have to wait long. Probably no more than five minutes. The doctor will call you. You can take a seat while you wait but I will say that the girl also waiting was bitten by lersquitos so maybe keep you’re distance,” She smiled widely and submitted the form before Logan could fight against any of their answers. 

“Thank you,” Virgil smiled before dragging his bumbling stuttering boyfriend by the shoulders and sitting them a couple of seats away from the girl. 

“You. Are. A... nightmare,” Logan finally snarked once his mind finally loaded from the betrayal. 

“Eh, the doctor’s need all the information they can grab. That means they need to know about your ‘stress relief’ mechanisms,” Virgil breathily whispered into his ears while trailing his fingers up his arms, leaving Logan flinching and childishly giggling. They stopped however when the girl groaned at their teasing. 

“Uh, excuse me. I’m sorry if this is really rude, but we heard you got bitten by... a something. Do you mind telling us about that?” Logan asked 

“Oh, uh a lersquito,” The girl answered with a judgemental look. She answered as if they had asked what colour the sky was. 

“Yes. That... What is that?” He asked. The girl took a deep breath and releasing an obnoxiously long sigh.

“Yeah it’s just a bug. It bites you and you get into a ler mood. It’s like...” She awkwardly paused but continued while never once looking at them, “you can’t get the idea out of your head and it’s like your fingers can’t keep still, y’know. They mostly hang out around water, so yeah.”

“That has got to be a Remus creation,” Logan nodded to himself and the girl simply shrugged them off and continued staring at the wall while slowly flexing her fingers. 

“Yeah wait!” Virgil suddenly perked up, “how on earth do we fight against that! A bug that bites you! I didn’t pay attention to any bugs. We may have already been bitten! And, and, the map goes through the forest. How on earth are we meant to-”

“That’s why we’re here. Surely the doctor can help us,” Logan answered and smoothed his bangs out of his eyes, much to his dismay. 

It wasn’t much longer until they got called by the doctor. She was dressed like any other doctor with no indication that she specialised in any tickle related stuff. “Hello, c’mon in!” She waved them inside a room. It looked also completely normal. There was a typical notice board behind her desk filled with different flyers and information. This was the only indication that they were in a world created and based on tickling. Even Logan had to admit that it was distracting to see a massive poster of a a cartoon man getting absolutely destroyed by bugs with glowing pink mushrooms in the background. 

He snapped back to attention when he noticed the silence. The doctor laughed at them both considered Virgil was still entranced by the poster. “Sorry! Uhm, can you repeat that?”

“I just asked if this was your first time through?” She asked with a polite smile. 

“Oh yes! Right. Yes this is our first time travelling and we would like to be prepared for anything that may get us... in trouble.”

“Ah well there’s not much advice I can give,” She responded.

“Of course it wouldn’t be that easy,” Logan mumbled under his breath but the doctor kept talking without pause.

“Just apply basic common knowledge and you’ll be alright. Don’t mess around with any weird plants, leave the white flowers alone, be careful around animals. Remember if you do get into trouble then come see a doctor if you’re worried. Did you have any more specific questions?” She asked Logan who was still flicking back and forth between the blatant poster and her.

“What is the most common reason people visit?”

“Well usually it’s the ants. Not a lot of people remember to look where they’re standing and, to be honest, their colonies are not obvious. They sting you and can almost triple your sensitivity. Not a problem if it’s a kid but if you’re in the middle of work then it can be a nuisance. Also, if you do get stung and it lasts more than four hours without treatment then seek medical help immediately.”

“Is there any way to... cure the sting?”

“It’s a simple lotion. It won’t make it disappear, you’ll still be quite sensitive, but it really helps dampen the effects. The sting is enough so that your clothes tickle you so a lot of people will buy it in bulk,” She answered while handing them both the tiniest travel bottle of the lotion. It wasn’t much but then he guessed it made sense that they wouldn’t hand them loads of it. 

They chatted but otherwise the doctor was reluctant to give them anymore considered her stance was thoroughly ‘just use common sense’. Virgil kept his gaze fixed on the notice board but the longer they talked, the more confused he looked. Even Logan ended up nudging him to try and get him to pay attention. 

As they were leaving, Virgil finally spoke up. “Wait, can I look at something?” He asked but he was already leaning over her desk to pull off one of the notes. Unlike the other leaflets, it was just plain paper with a scrawled hard to read chicken scratch. 

He showed it to Logan with a concentrated frown. It read:

The treasure is kinda smelly and gross but you’ll love it!!!!

“Is that a clue!” Logan gasped, intentionally snatching it from his hand. 

“It just stuck out as weird,” He pretty much said to himself because now Logan’s mind had latched on. Any mind based puzzle and Logan was in his happy place. The wording all screamed that this was a treasure that Remus created or at the least Remus made the clue. Had they missed more clues? Were they supposed to have any idea what this means? This was so vague! It spoke about the treasure but not about what the password to unlock was. Maybe the password is what the treasure is! 

Logan absolutely didn’t pay attention to Virgil saying thanks to the doctor and shoving them out the door. Virgil merely fondly rolled his eyes and pushed them out of the village and up to the path. Back to the adventure! 

The path led straight into a heavy forest with vines and the constant chirping of birds. The bushes seemed like they were always moving with different animals scuttling about and Virgil could already feel himself start to sweat as the heavy trees trapped the heat in the forest. All this time, Virgil had to admit he did feel a little worried about getting unfairly sneak-attacked but also that was nothing compared to now. The thick heavy forest only showed that they were truly in the thick of it now. They weren’t sightseeing around a village. They were in an adventure. 

They had barely stepped through the forest before stopping. Across the path was a weeping willow. It was just as gorgeous as terrifying. The soft pinks and white rustling together in a beautiful dance of a feathery bright petals. But also that was the most obvious trap he had ever seen in his life. Logan was still mumbling to himself staring at the clue so he carefully plapped the clue out of his hands and silently pointed at the tree. 

“Ah,” Logan said.

“Yeah. Ah. What do we do?” Virgil sighed. Logan looked around with a wince. The path carved through extremely thick trees and bushes and dense foliage. 

“There’s no good option here. We could keep to the path and just take whatever this tree does or we could go around it.”

“But god knows what’s in there!” Virgil gasped!

“So do we go forward knowing we will get tickled by these... feathery looking branches or get tickled by the unknown. There isn’t a good option here,” Logan sighed. 

This adventure took 20 minutes!

Total time: 46 minutes.

OOH BOY THAT WAS SOO LONG, I’M SO SORRY!

The adventure continues, but what shall our boys do?!

1) Go forward

2) Go off the path 

Now, Logan and Virgil know about lersquitos, tickle ants and discovered a clue! But now Logan is distracted with figuring out the clue!

[mariazarcos]

POSTPRODUCTION

In this page I will include any piece of work I’ve created mostly with marketing or brand design purposes during the process.

EDITING SOUND

For sound I made sure to use professionally made sound effects to enhance the quality and veracity of the situation, so from the sound made when grabbing the knife even to the birds chirping, these were all taken from sound effect specialized YouTube accounts such as

- Sound Library

- ProSound Effects

- Music & Sounds Effect Library

- All Sounds

- SOUND and IMAGE FX

- Sound Effect Database

- Isolation Music

For my non-diegetic background music, I used tracks free of Copyright by the author Sunshant Sonawale (used during the fighting scenes) and a piano piece by Valerio Velardo (who himself expressed that he had made this tune with the purpose of depicting an obsessive mind state, perfectly according with my main character’s paranoid state of mind).

BRAND LOGO

I’ts important that I acknowledge that I have to make this coursework with the idea that it will then be demonstrated on an official fake company web page. Thus, I decided to come up with a company logo that would fit the standards of the project.

Firstly, I believed it’d be appropriate to make this company niche, since I believe my film contains elements that aren’t exactly part of a mainstream audience, which would be big special effects, extravagant editing or use of high end technological for example. Thus, I believe a logo has to exactly reflect this idea too. Furthermore, my target audience would average around the group of teenagers and young adults. This is so since I believe the concept portrayed in my short film may be more understood by the younger generation who seems to be more in touch with naturally analysing a piece of media, and take out the important social messages attached (which, as I explained in the research + analysis tab, in my case would be the protest against the expectation of women to stay in the house and attend to everything their partner puts them through).

After knowing the nature of my company as well as my target audience, I analysed such group of people through social media to understand their tastes and interests at the moment.

I noticed that animal videos or pictures where very prone to acquire a very big amount of viewing and likes, such as these videos from TikTok (the most used platform by teens and young adults worldwide)

PIC

Therefore, I decided to focus on making a logo that’d include an animal, mainly inspired by the film company Metro Goodwin Mayer, with it’s iconic roaring golden lion. 

These are some of the logos in the industries that represent an animal. However, I noticed that most of the companies which have their target audience as adults or older showcase a variety of big and strong animals, like, for example, Jaguar, Lamborghini, Lacoste, Polo Ralph Lauren, etc. Thus, I believe that using a smaller and gentler animal will mean that my target audience which meet those criteria will relate more to my company (such as for example, Twitter’s logo is a bird, a social media platform that harbours most of my target audience too). After being sure of this, I went to TikTok, Pinterest and Instagram to see what’s trending right now among my target audience. Many of the multi-million liked videos included nature themes and thus, animals, which accorded perfectly with the research I had already made. My target audience seemed to also like artsy and creative pieces made by unknown creators in the app.

The majority of these videos in TikTok have millions of likes, and even more views, by taking this path I ended up coming to the conclusion that one of the most famous animal among young people is the frog. I believe it also relates to my conclusion that animals that may seem smaller or more innocent tend to relate more to my target audience in comparison with older audiences, who seem to be more attracted to much more opposite types of animal representations.

Now, I started planning the actual logo. Firstly I had to come up with the name of my company, which I believed would be fitting as Frog Produces since I believe its fun and young. Here are some inspirations and ideas I had researched before starting:

I wanted it to be simple and look doodle-y, since I believe it’s what fit best with my initial idea. I used procreate to make various logos until I got the one I wanted, which is the bottom right one.

FINAL LOGO:

MOODBOARDS + ART

For further characterisation of my character, I had decided to create two moodboards to represent the two moods or personalities that the main character shows before and after the incident, as well as visual representations of herself to contrast how she feels through sketches made by myself. I use the two contrasting colours, blue and red. Blue represented her state before going crazy. “Feeling blue” fit perfectly with her feelings at that moment. There was never really a moment of true happiness when she was in the presence of her partner, but felt too fragile to do anything about it until she turned completely crazy. She bottled up her emotions and felt as if she was drowning. In contrast, red represented her severe mental instability. On the inside she’s still herself, confused about the person she’s become (we can see those mood swings at the end of the killing scene), but she’s now out of control. Her rage taints her sight in red, and although she couldn’t dare look at herself in the mirror, time has made her admit her state (something we see in the first and last scene, in the interrogation room), and she’s completely lost her mind.

In this piece made by me, we can see that she’s martyrised, copying the pose of a virgin, suffering the death of her child, looking up into the sky asking for help. We see that she’s bathed in blue, light, which although representing her mood, also seems to be pure. However, she’s covered in a red background, meaning that everything around her is dangerous and negative. It seems as if she’s drowning in it.

This is the piece that pairs with the one before. It’s a complete contrast. She’s now looking straight at the audience, as if challenging them in a way. The light surrounding her is red, one of wrath and power. Even though before it seemed as if she was drowning in the red environment, here it almost feels as if she’s rising from it. Getting out of it, rising from the dead and the pain as a new, changed person.

[kaythewriterx]

The Flex Brothers

Plot: A young man, Alex Flex (Charlie Hunnam) who deals with life as he is diagnosed with a disease that causes him to go blind at the age of fourteen. Richard, (Tom Selleck) Alex’s father lets him grow and learn on his own, but his mother, Monica (Courtney Cox) wants him to follow into her footsteps. One day, out of curiosity, Alex joins a gym, then wants to be a boxer. His bigger brother Brady, who has a very close relationship with Alex, finds out and is forced to be quiet. The Truth always be told. Richard and Monica finds out and lectures him, but with Alex wanting to finally be on own, he makes a deal. Lose and Quit. Or. Win and Stay.   

                                                                                       Dallas, Texas.                                          22 years ago

"Alex! Look at mommy." a woman laughs as she shakily filmed the little boy who stood in front of her, the child had paid no attention to his mother, but instead the bubbles. The woman zoomed over at another boy, a bit older with his father that had been throwing him gently in the air. She chuckles, pushing her black hair out of her face, squinting at the two as they seemed to be on cloud nine. The summer sun beaming on the family of four, enjoying quality time with each other. "My Richard and our first born, Brady." She lightly whispers still filming the father and son, twirling the blue shirted boy with little demin jeans to match perfectly Monica thought. The woman finally looks over at her younger son, her black hair getting in the way from the precious moment that was being half caught on camera. "You like the bubbles?" Monica places a free hand on her hip, the confused boy looks up with the wand in one hand and the bottle in the other. "Yeah." Alex half squinted at the short woman, he quickly smiles causing her to lightly chuckle, suddenly a squeal escaped her mouth. "What are you doing?" Richard asked his wife lifting her up in the air for a quick moment. "I'm filming our boys-well our family." she smiled looking up at her tall husband, "Ah, well." he frowned and before she could speak, he takes the camera into his hands and pointed it himself. "Hello world, I'm Richard, this is my beautiful, wonderful, smart-" Monica blushes and covers her face, "Stop." Richard laughs and points the camera to the two boys who were standing side by side. "And these are our boys. Brady and Alex, say hi boys." Monica was in awed as they waved towards their father, she quickly picks up Alex as Richard sat Brady on his hip. "And we are the Flex's" the little family smiled at the camera.

                                                                                                     Now

The deep green colored grass glistened as the sprinklers lightly doused it, with the American flag blowing perfectly every time the light breeze came and gone in the summer Texas weather. "Alex! Brady!" a woman's voice yelled through the well opened house, she listened for answered before she continued with cutting the carrots. The woman wipes her hands on the red and white apron, pushing her black with a touch of grey hair as she entered the living room where laughter could be heard. "I thought-" she gasps covering her mouth, her eyes went to the tv and straight down to the two men sitting on the brown couch, they turned their heads. "Hey, ma." Brady smiled at his awed mom. Her green watery eyes went to her little boy's, "Hi, mama." Alex's lips curved into a smile. Monica walks over, seeing Richard's crow feet peeking more and more. Her little body made a small thud as she bounced on the couch in between her sons, they all chuckle to see her so lost in the TV. "Ma, you alright?" Brady's fingers lightly touched his mother's arm, "It's been so long, since I've watched this." her hands finally rested on her black slack covered thighs. "When was the last time you did?" Alex reposition himself to carefully listen to her sweet voice, the two sons looked over at their father as he suddenly spoke. "I think it was before Alex turned fourteen." he frowned thinking for a brief moment before looking back at the TV screen. "Yep, my baby boy." Monica lightly squeezed her son's knee causing him to lightly drape his arm around her neck. "I love both of my boys." She giggled looking over at Brady who sat on her right side, she pulled on his stubble chin to bring him closer, carelessly pinching his cheeks. "Ow, ma." he winced in pain, she pressed both of her hands on their knees before she stood to her feet. "Come on, help me set the table." Brady grunted as he stood turning the TV off, Richard quickly got up as he saw Alex, "Need help, son?" he offered a hand, Alex kindly nodded. "No, dad I got it." he grabbed his cane before standing to his feet, Richard put his large hand on  Alex's shoulder guiding him into the kitchen. "So, what are we having?" Alex says as he walks in the kitchen hearing the cutlery as it hit the table. "Well, birthday boy. Your favorite of course." His mother smiled taking the hot steamy foil covered dish out of the oven. "Lasagna? Steamed Vegetables? Bread? And Chocolate cake with no icing?" Alex guessed making everyone in the room laugh to themselves. "You're so weird with the no icing thing." Brady shook his head at his younger brother who sat down at the kitchen table. "I iced half of it for you, Brady." Monica interjected, Brady sudden clapped causing Alex jump. "That's why you are the best mother in the whole wide world." He complimented her before sipping on the iced tea. "Okay, now let's say grace." Richard told taking a hold of his wife's and Brady's hand.

"You can let them in now, Brady." Monica says as she scraped the dirty plates into the trash can. "Sweet!" He chuckled going for the side door of the house, letting a black and yellow Retrievers in. "Sunny! Joey! Oh, how are my boys?" Brady said sweetly to the dogs, bending down to hug them around the neck. "You been good?" He asked rubbing Joey's black and grey fur, "Say, 'Yeah, I missed my bubba'." Monica says watching her son playing with his childhood pets. "I missed ya two." Brady kisses the side of both of their heads before he stood to his feet. "You know, I've been thinking about getting a dog." Brady says facing his mother as she was still cleaning the kitchen. "Oh yeah? How come?" she furrows her brows scrubbing the dishes. "Just getting lonely in that apartment of mine." He says taking a hold of a plate drying it off, "What kind?" she looks over at Brady.

Alex hummed as the light breeze hit him in the face, closing his eyes with the sun warming his slouched body. His relaxing time soon ended as he heard the front door open and close behind him. "Sure, is a beautiful day." Richard exhaled with his hands in his pocket, "Yep." Alex says hearing the porch steps creak as Richard took a seat next to him. "Been enjoying your birthday, son?" He looks over at Alex who was staring at the white stairs, "Feel's like any other birthday I've had." He said honestly stirring his feet around hearing the door open again. "Hey." Brady looks at the men sitting down, "Hey, Brady." Richard looks over at his oldest before he leaned on the railing. "How's the oil field going?" Alex spoke up, Brady grunted towards his brother. "It's going. Lot's of hours, you know?" Brady chuckled as he looked up at Richard, nodding to him. Brady takes his seat as he went into the house. "I bet, all that hard labor." Alex shook his head, "Man, you don't even know the start of it, you gotta keep up with a lot of shit, you know? And dad being my boss? Geesh." Alex chuckled more with his brother's humor. "How 'bout you?" Brady's laugh died down turning his head to him, "Seriously? You for real asking me that? You asked me that all the time." Alex sighed with the question he had been given. "And all the time I expect an answer. You’re my brother, A." Brady pursed his lips. "B, I'm blind. Ain't no one want to hire a guy like me." Alex blurted out causing him to furrowed his brows with his younger brother's face expression saying it all. "You don't know that." Brady says with hope in his voice, "You better get home before traffic beats you." Alex suddenly switched the subject. "I'm staying the weekend, you know that." He told, "And why is that exactly?" Alex furrowed his brows in confusion to Brady. "We've been together our whole lives on each other's birthday, why should that stop now?" Brady was taken back at his harsh words. "Because you moved out, that's why." His eyes fell to the ground as Alex grabbed his cane in anger and went back into the house.

The warm lighting hummed as Alex turned on the bathroom light. A low growl escaped his mouth, completely annoyed by the sound above him. He quickly closed the creaky door, setting his cane up against it. His hand slapping anything within reach, tapping on the smooth surface indicating it was a mirror. Alex sighed deeply before running his hands through his longish dirty blonde hair, opening the draw in front of him taking a hold of the razor. His knuckles becoming white as he gripped tighter and tighter. Alex let it fall making a loud thud, his grunts became shaky in frustration. A hot tear escaped falling onto his hand as it was gripping onto the draw, he quickly wiped it away before setting it back on the wood. "Ma?" His hard stare never left when the door opened, Monica looks over at the razor and soon looks up at Alex's watery faded green eyes.  She didn't say a thing, she pushed up her black robe's sleeve before grabbing the shaving cream.

The birds chirped into the foggy humid morning air, grey clouds slowly passing by the sun. A man's voice was a light background sound as Richard and Brady were in the kitchen. "More coffee?" Brady looks up seeing him holding the pot. "Oh yes, thank you." He nodded letting the hot steam warms his face as he took a sip. A light creak from footsteps caught the two men's attention. "Holy shit." Brady looked to his left as his father did the same. Alex smiled with his mother right beside him, admiring her work. "Nice haircut, son." Richard raised his coffee mug to his mustache. "Coffee?" Monica asked as her hair bounced in the messy bun she slept in. "Yes, please." Alex replied walking towards the table, his hand hovering over the pink box. "Which one you want?" Brady asked opening the box, "White sprinkle." His hand being opened for his brother to fill with a donut.

As the grey clouds were dusted away by the sun with the early afternoon creeping up, the family of four headed into town. Richard smiled down at his wife as they held hands walking the sidewalk with their sons following behind them. "Is this the store you wanted to go into, Alex?" Monica turns her attention back, seeing the two brothers engaging in their own conversation. "Is it the one I told you about?" Alex raised an eyebrow, his ear rising as well with a bell going off suddenly. The light music echoed through their ears as they looked around the shoe store, Alex's hand slowly ran through the row of shoes. "These are the ones you were talking about. Red, black and white." Monica says holding the shoe in her hands. "Yes." Alex pursed his lips fixating his shoulders. "Okay, great." She smiles as she looks at him, but soon the smile fell as his eyes painfully reminded her. "Thanks, mama." The corner of his lip curved a tiny bit. Monica silently sighs and puts the shoe back in the box and walks to the cashier. A heavy stump got Alex's attention, his cane stopping at the steel toed boot. "Whatchu lookin' at?" Alex asked, Brady grunted as he sat back down at the small black bench. "Well, I need some more shoes. The ones I'm wearing are worn out, so." Brady looked up at his brother who seemed preoccupied. "We'll meet you guys in a bit, okay? I'm going to go look at some house decor." Their mother came into the conversation, they both nodded as Richard guided his wife out of the store. Alex no longer felt Brady's presence, he tilts his head up at the ceiling as something caught his attention. His red tip cane made a light tap as he walked towards the side of the building. He pressed his ear up against the cold wall, his eyes squinting as he tried to figure out the sound that could barely be heard. The sound of the bell going off again didn't faze Brady as he focused on the pair of boots. Grunts, loud rock music, yelling and ropes hitting the floor filled Alex's ears. No one batted an eye towards the lost man as he entered the new building. Alex's squinted to himself as the heavy metal rung in his ears, he lightly gasped as he ran into something hard, "Oh, excuse me." he chuckled waiting for a response. His hand rose up feeling a hard material, he slowly made a fist and punched it lightly. Alex stood there for a moment realizing it was a punching bag. He stepped back and exhaled before punching it, again, again and again till he was out of breath. Alex then clung onto the bag. "Hey, kid, you got a card?" a raspy voice said making Alex jump and grab a hold of his cane, suddenly his heart drops when he couldn't find it. "Uh, I-no, I'm sorry no, I don't." He panics searching for the long plastic tube, his hand reached in front of him feeling a familiar piece. "Looking for this?" the voice asked, "Y-Yes, thank you." Alex nodded to the person as he grabbed a hold of it and turned to his feet. "What's your name?" he stopped in his tracks as the man asked, "Alex... Alex Flex." he turned his head, following the voice. "Well, Alex Flex... you wanna tell me what's a blind guy doin' in a gym?" Alex then chuckled turning completely around. "I-I was just curious-that's all." the man chuckled to himself, "Curious, huh?" he looked up at Alex who had his hands resting on top of the cane listening to him. "I'm Eddie-" "Alex! I've been lookin' all over for you man, what the hell?" Brady's voice echoed through the building getting everyone's attention, "Come on, mom and dad are waitin' on us." He pulled on his younger brother out of the gym. "Why were you there in the first place?" Brady looked over at him holding onto a white bag, "I was bored." "Bored, eh?" He chuckled in disbelief walking up the hill where he could see his parents steadily waiting.

Sounds of crickets could be heard throughout the field. Stars decorating the black sky to go along with a bright full moon, shining through the rooted trees shadowing a two-story house. "Alright man, drive safe." Alex's hand slapped onto Brady's, gripping it tightly. "Bye, ma." Monica squeezed her son's waist not wanting to let go. "I'll see you tomorrow, son." Richard nodded as Brady did the same. His calloused hands scuffing up the two dog's fur by his legs. "Be good boys, take care of Alex for me." He told them as he walked down the steps waving a last goodbye before getting into his truck.

Alex let a deep sigh as his tired body hit the mattress, running a quick hand on his face setting an arm behind him. His heavy eyes looked forward, slowly falling into a deep slumber.

                                                        9 years ago

"Can you read this, sweetie?" A younger Monica asks Alex as he lifted the glasses to rub his tired eyes. He squinted trying to focus on the extremely blurry white board. "The-The? Dodge?" he sighed knowing that wasn't right, his mom gathered up the poster boards and pushed them aside and looked at the frustrated young teen. "It's okay. Everything is going to be okay." Monica reassured him, lightly squeezing his hand before standing up to go into the living room where Richard watched. He looks back at his son as he sat at the kitchen table with his head in his hands. Monica sighs grunting out as she slumped on the couch. "The drops aren't working, the doctor said it should be helping him." The couched dipped when he sat down beside her, "He also said it might not." he exhaled not wanting to say the words. "I don't get it! He's not getting any better! It's getting worse!" She yelled standing up throwing her hands in the air, Alex lifted his head up, hot tears falling onto the table. "It's not fair, Richard!" she turned to face him, "No, it's not." He shook his head. "I give up, nothing is happening, nothing is getting better." Monica crossed her arms pacing around the room. "I hate to be the one to say it, but yes. Unfortunately, it looks like there's no stopping this disease." Richard explained rubbing his hands together. Alex got up from his chair and ran up the stairs, falling onto his bed hugging the pillow soaking it with his tears. As the morning came, Alex's grey clouds became black. Loud screeching scream hurt his throat as he opened his eyes, blackness.  

A loud door slammed behind the teen, echoing through the huge building. The red tip cane meeting the freshly waxed tile with his feet scrapping against it causing friction. As the building stood still, not a single sound could be heard made the hairs on Alex's forearm stand. Suddenly, he grunts out, making the books in his arms fall to the ground as he puts his hands on his ears. Students came out of their classrooms like a herd of bulls, the bell finally stops but it kept ringing in Alex's sensitive ears. "Ow!" Alex hissed at the pain when his hands made contact with the floor. "Can someone help me?" his arm reached out for a hand. Alex whimpered as it was slapped away from some kids that laughed. "Awe, what a wimp!" One chuckled, "Poor baby Alex! You gonna cry?" the group of bullies mocked the child that tried to stand. The kids took off as the bell rung once again, Alex pushed anyone who was in the way as he tried to run forward. His ears perked up hearing a familiar voice, "Good morning." Monica says as the last child entered the room, she gasps out as a loud thud hit the wooden door. "Alex?" she furrows her brows seeing her son in such a state of emotion, his breathing was rapid trying to catch his breath. "Mama." Alex's eyes tried to search for the woman with his arms. "Who's this freak?" "That's Alex, I think he's blind." "Oh, my gosh, what a freak!" Those harsh words circled around his brain, "Class, that's not nice, stop laughing." Monica ordered, grabbing a hold of her sons’ shoulders. Alex squealed not knowing who was touching him, "It's okay." she reassured him. "N-No it-it's not! I-I can't see!" His breathing quickens, heart pounding against his chest like it was about to explode. Laughter grew and grew causing Alex to panic through tears and turn around only to run in the door, he had no time to react as he ran out of the room. Loud chattering, doors slamming, lockers being shut and footsteps all rang through his ears. Alex grunted out, scraping his body against the concrete rushing out of the building. Droplets of tears left a mark on the ground when he finally stood to his feet, bloodshot watery eyes following up to the sounds of chirping.

                                                                                                                Now Alex blinked out of concentration when a car passing by honked, the man huffs turning back to where his attention was before. He grips the silver door handle and walks in. "Can I help you?" a youngish man asked. "Yes, I'm looking for Eddie?" Alex furrowed his brows setting his hand on the desk, "Eddie. Who?" the man nodded his head in confusion. "Jason, go make yourself useful and clean the bathroom." Alex turned to the familiar voice he heard not too long ago. "Hey, Alex, right?" "Yes, sir." He smiles towards the presence that stood in front of him. "What are you doing here?" Alex sighs, putting his head down for a second before speaking. "I want to join your gym." Alex waited for a reaction, more or so a laugh, but it confused him when he didn't. "Follow me." He was shocked as the man seemed okay with it. Alex follows Eddie into an office, he reaches out and feels the cold metal, taking a seat. "Let's get to know one another before anything." The older man grunts as his knee’s pops scooting up to his desk, "Why do you want to join my gym?" Eddie bluntly says, Alex folds his hands together. "Well, I didn't know this place even existed till about a week ago and I've always enjoyed staying fit." Eddie leaned back into the leather chair, and hummed. "I can see that." He glanced at his body, as he seemed well feed. "I'd really like to join." Alex smiles, hearing a pen click. "Alex Flex, age?" "23." "Okay." Alex furrows his brows, "That's all?" Eddie chuckles before standing up and walking out. He soon follows behind, feeling weird stares as he came to a stop. "Johnny and Andy clear out." Eddie snaps his fingers, Alex hears the Velcro coming undone. "Come on." Alex sets his cane on a table nearby before entering the ring. "Andy, wrap this gentleman up." The man ordered, Alex soon felt gloves being tugged on. "Now, Johnny I just want you stand there." The tall man looked over at him in confusion, "Why?" "Because I said so, smart ass." Eddie grunted. Alex felt a hovering body in front of him, soon smelling Eddie's musk on his right side. "Now, Alex. Fight Johnny." "What?!" The two men said in sync looking at the man, "Dad, I'm not fightin' no blind guy." Johnny chuckles for a second before getting smacked in the head. "Yeah, why is he even in here?" Andy also blurted out with other men agreeing. "Quiet!" Eddie roared, everyone stood still as he started to pace around the ring. "If I hear any of you talking shit about this man, so help me God I will throw all of you sorry sons of bitches out. He can be here just as much as you can and last time I checked, it's called 'Russo's Gym'. Not 'Johnny's', not 'Andy's. Mine. So, if you have a problem with it, get the fuck out, are we clear?" "Yes, sir." Everyone including Alex replied back to his announcement. Alex's hands were raised in front of him, "Just punch." Eddie calmly told. Alex nodded and began to hit the man in front of him, one punch at a time before getting dizzy. Eddie gripped the gloves and pulled onto his head, "Listen, you're getting ahead of yourself. You're breathing too quick, too hard. You need to slow and focus on your breathing, focus on what's in front of you, on your feet, your opponent’s feet. Mute everything around you and fight." Alex exhaled, registering his encouraging words. He planted his feet in front of the larger man, closing his eyes and breathing in the cool air. Soon, turning off any sound, but Johnny's footsteps. Boom, Boom, Boom, hit in the stomach. "Good job, Flex." Eddie cheered the younger man. Alex and Johnny circled around each other, some hits and misses, mostly hits. Johnny grunted as a glove met his face, "Damn!" everyone yelled at Alex. Clapping and laughing at the hurt man. "Shit Alex, you got me." Johnny hissed at the pain in his lip, but quickly smiling at him soon, touching gloves with him. "Thanks." Alex smiled listening to the room cheering him on.

"This looks wonderful, honey." Richard smiled up at his wife when she sat down the dish, Alex snickered at the comment. "Thank you." She sighed finally taking a seat after a long day of teaching. "Father we thank you for this wonderful food, that a woman you blessed me with has prepared. Thank you for keeping her and my son safe, we love you. Amen." "Amen." Monica and Alex nodded, letting go of hands and digging in. "So, how was your guy's day?" Richard asked before taking a bite, "It was good, thank goodness every one of my students were on their best behavior." she chuckled. "Wasn't the principal supposed to come today?" He thought as he wiped his mouth off. "Yes, that's why they were so good." They both shared a laugh, Alex just barely showed a smile. "How about you, sweetie?" Monica looked over at her quiet son, "I got a job today." he flinched as two forks scraped the plates. "Sorry, what?" Monica raised her brows, "Yeah." he simply says siting back against the chair. "Where?" She was wanting answers, obviously in shock. "At a store." Richard furrowed his brows when he looked at his wife, "Care to explain more, son?" he shook his head. "It's in back of the store, I'm not actually in the store." He looks to his mom who sat on his right side. Richard frowned, surprised how Alex got the job, let alone wanted one. "I thought we talked about-" "I know, but I think this is better, for now." Monica pressed her tongue against her cheek before going back to eating. "Because I want you-" "I know, ma." He interjected raising his palm up from the table. "Well, I think this is a good thing." Richard raised his glass, Monica squinted her eyes at the man and shook her head. "Thanks, dad." Alex smiles getting up with his plate and went into the kitchen, leaving Monica and Richard feeling different.

The car rumbled through the bumpy street, causing more tension with the mother and son. Monica sighed running her free hand through her hair, Alex stayed silent throughout the ride. His ears perked up, the brakes squealing underneath. "Have a good day." Monica muffled, not bothering to look at him. Alex exhaled, taking his hand away from the handle. "What's so bad about me getting a job?" He turned his head to the left, "We've talked about this, months ago Alex." "Yeah, months ago. I changed my mind." he told, leaving her silent. The handle clicks as he got out, he bent down resting his forearm on the window. "I'll think about it, okay?" She smiled finally looking at her son, "Okay." Alex backs away from the car, waving her goodbye. He looks over, the wind blowing through his spiky hair. "So, today we're just focusing on the punching bag, alright?" Eddie told, standing behind it. "But just the other day I was in the ring?" Alex netted his eyebrows with a light chuckle in his voice. "Yes, but you're still having trouble focusing." "Ah." Alex nodded instantly, Eddie's feet scraped against the flooring, soon stopping behind the man. "Breath, focus on what's in front of you." He obeyed and began to punch the bag, he got twelve hits in before slowing down. "I can't focus with this damn music and these guys working." Alex motioned with his hands before setting them on his hips. "Music and the other noises ain't the problem, son." He stopped pacing feet, "What's really on your mind?" Eddie asked, staring at the young man. Alex sighs, bending his neck back. Contemplating on whether or not to speak truth. "I am a twenty-three-year-old blind man, who still lives with his parents- that begs him to become a fuckin' teacher, but is afraid of doing something else just because of what people will say." Alex sighed, heavy weight practically lifting off his shoulders. "What do you want, Alex?" Eddie blinked, soon meeting his green eyes. "To become a boxer."

A group of men yelled to each other, raising hands to their ears as the loud machines were much louder. “Son of a bitch!” One man grunted, slipping in the mud. “She ain’t bunging!” The man on his knee with a tool wrench told, “Brady!” he looks up at the man who was much cleaner than he was. “Thank you.” Brady nods to him, taking his hard hat off.  “Yeah, boss?” Richard scuff. “You don’t have to call me that.” Taking a seat behind his desk. “How can I help you, my father?” Brady laughed sarcastically, turning a chair to take a seat. Richard folded his hands together before he spoke, “Alex got a job.” “Really? That’s great.” Brady smiles. “Your mother doesn’t think so.” Brady took his hand off of his thigh, “Why?” “Brady, I have no idea what’s goes on in your mother’s mind sometimes.” Richard sighed. “He’s a fucking grown ass man.” He shouted, “You don’t think I already know that?” he looks up at his now standing son. “Sir, Morrow is at it again.” The two men look at the new one that appeared, “Fucking hell, tell that son of bitch to get his ass up here now!” Richard pointed at the guy who nodded in response. “I swear this job is gonna kill me one of these days.” Richard sits back down, Brady looks back at his father. “I want you to do me-your mother a favor.” Richard corrected himself, “Which would be?” he motioned his hand. “To check on your brother as much as you can.” “What?! Why can’t she fucking do it?” Brady furrowed his brows, “If she does it, Alex will be furious with her, so.” Richard waved. Brady grunted, rubbing his aching neck, “I got over eighty hours this week.” “You can take off when I tell you.” Brady looks over when the door opened, Morrow was covered in mud. “Do not take one fucking step in my office, you do and I’ll kill you.” Richard told, Brady put back on his yellow hat and walked past the filthy man.

Alex’s phone vibrated through his grey sweatpants, “Hello?” “Eh, little bro.” Brady said making Alex chuckle as he walked down the sidewalk. “What’s up?” “Oh, you know, nothing much. Just got on break.” He could hear his cane sliding on the rough concrete, “What bout’ you?” Brady asked. “I just got off, from work.” Alex snickered hearing his brother’s coos, “Yeah, I heard, pops told me.” Alex heard the microwave beep on the other side, “It’s just a bunch of packing and whatnot.” “It’ll put a couple of bucks in your wallet, yeah?” Alex sighed in agreement as he took a seat on a bench. “That’s what’s it’s all about.” Brady chuckles taking a seat as well, with his dinner in his free hand, “Alright, well, I just wanted to check on ya.” Brady swallowed, “You don’t need anything, do you?” “Nah, Brady I’m good.” “You don’t need me to beat up anyone, do ya?” Alex chuckles, lifting his head up. “Nah, B.” Brady looks down at the dark colored carpet, “Alright, take care, A.” “You be safe out there.” “You too, man.” Brady sighs ending the call.

“Kick! Kick! Kick!” Eddie shouted, watching Alex lifting his leg towards the punching bag. Alex grunted, sweat beaming off of his skin, music blaring in the background. “Stand, punch!” Alex jumped, planting his feet on the ground and punched, “Dodge, dodge!” he swiftly moved his shoulders side to side. “Focus, turn and kick with a punch!” He exhaled, turning on his heel, lifting his left leg grunting coming in contact with the hard bag. “Argh!” He fisted, swinging his arm into the bag making it bounce back from the chain. “That’s what I’m talking about!”  Eddie squeezed his shoulders as he rested against a cold beam. Alex moved his jaw, taking in the ice-cold water, “Good work, Flex.” Johnny complimented the tired man. “Thanks.” Alex smiled, wiping the sweat before it got in his eyes. “Brady!” He looked up from the ditch, the hot blazing sun staring down. “Go.” Richard nodded off, Brady’s hands landed on his hips and looked at the men that surrounded him, “Get back to work, fellas.”. He took off his gloves and hard hat, listening to the beep noise coming from his truck. Brady grunted lifting himself up from the handle and started the engine. “You’re doing great, kid.” Eddie told, taking a seat by the man, “I appreciate it.” Alex nodded taking one last sip. “Andy and Johnny your son’s?” He asked, listening to them laugh just a few feet away. “Yeah, they got some smart mouths on them but, they’re great kids.” Alex lightly chuckles, “It’s been hard for them, ever since their mother died.” he sighs, “Oh shit, man, I’m sorry I- ““No, it’s okay, I don’t mind talking about it-Hell I haven’t talked about Helena… damn has it really been that long?” Eddie sighs, thinking to himself. “Andy was a mamma's boy-that boy got away with anything around that woman. Now Johnny? That boy has a mouth on him, he is one tough son of a bitch, reminds me of myself back in the day.” He chuckles, making Alex smile. “How that woman put up with me, I’ll never know.” “I can tell you really loved her.” Eddie looks over to him, Alex looked up. “How?” “Your heart… it picked up when you started talking about her.” Eddie did a double take at the man who seemed happy, he scuffs in disbelief. “Even when gone, she still puts butterflies in my stomach.” He smiles before standing to his feet, “Awe, Ed, I didn’t know you had a heart.” Alex chuckles. “I don’t care if your blind son, I’ll kick your ass.” Alex threw his head back in laughter, “Come on, on your feet.” Eddie slapped the punching bag. The brakes eased as Brady tapped them, slipping off his seat belt and turning the key. His steel toed boots meeting the black road, fiddling with his keys before putting the in his pocket. Loud rock music being muffled by the building next to the store, he chuckled taking a quick look at the men working out. His boot scrapping against the concrete as he came to a sudden stop, “What the…” “Go! Go!” Eddie clapped, Alex grunting his feet coming full force at the bag. “Breath, focus and hit!” He exhaled, closing his eyes, sending multiple hits to the hard material. Alex twirled on his right heel and swung his leg into the air, “Hell yeah!” Eddie cheered with the other men. “Hey! Hey! Whoa!” Brady whistle, waving his hands in the air. The room went silent, everyone looked at the new man, “Brady?” Alex huffed. “Alex, what the hell going on?” His older brother furrowed his brows as Alex chuckled nervously, not knowing where to put his shaky hands. “Um…” “Um? Go on, spit it out.” Brady tuck in his bottom lip, watching Alex struggle to speak. “I’m sorry but, who are you?” Eddie spoke, “I’m his older brother, who the fuck are you?” “Whoa!” “Hey!” they all shouted. “Oh, shut it.” Brady flared his eyes towards the others, “You care to explain to me why you’ve been lying to me?” Brady ducked his head down and into his brother’s eyes.

“You’ve been busy.” Brady started, looking around the quiet office. "Yeah." Alex nodded, as he sat beside his brother Brady who scuffed in disbielf. "Why are you in here?" "Why do you ask?" Alex shook his head, "Because when I see my blind baby brother in a gym, I have the right to know!" Brady stood, "This is the first time I've felt alive, Brady!" Alex matched his brother's loud yelling. "What are you talkin' bout, A?" He furrowed his brows, worried what was going through his brain. "Every since I was fourteen, everyone did everything for me. I couldn't do anything without someone there, but here... I feel free, not trapped." "You feel trapped?" Brady's soft voice caused Alex to sigh, "Lately, I have. And with mom trying to get me to-I don't wanna be no damn history teacher, man." "So, what do you want to do?" Alex paused for a minute, his hands digging into his pockets. "I wanna box." Brady scuffed and lifted himself off the desk he had been leaning on and started to walk. "You gotta be fucking crazy, man." "No, Brady, wait." Alex slammed the door shut, "Alex, really? Fighting? Blind?" The younger brother flinched at his words, "You don't understand, I love it and I'm good at it, Brady I'm actually good at something! Please?" Brady looked at his faded green eyes and exhaled, "What does mom say about this?" Alex ducked his head, "Right, cause mom doesn't know." Brady nodded, "And it needs to stay that way." "What?" "I don't want her finding out about this just yet." Brady looked their hands still on the metal door handle. "Please, B?"

Monica hummed as the summer breeze made her red and yellow sundress flow. She clicked the button, locking her car before entering the market. Light background music filled her ears as she shopped for what she needed, Monica smiled as she saw Alex's favorite snack and placed in the green basket, "I love your dress, it's beautiful." an old woman complimented as she walked by, "Thank you." she smiled back. Monica checked her list, noticing she's still missing one item, "Excuse me, ma'am, where is the soups?" a woman in a white shirt turned around as she was unpacking. "That'll be on aisle 3." Monica smiled, "Thank you." "You're welcome." Monica saw her named tag said 'Manager'. "Oh, I just also wanna ask, how is Alex doing?" the woman furrowed her brows, "I'm sorry?" "Alex Flex, my son, he works here." she nodded her head. "No one under that name works here." "There has to be some kind a of mistake, he works in the back." She pointed, "No ma'am, I'm the manager, I know all my employee's." Monica felt the basket suddenly get heavier, her eyes squinting at the information she had received. She gasped as she felt a hand on her arm, "Oh! Girl I'm sorry, didn't mean to scare you." Another woman says chuckling, "Julie." Monica holds her hand to her chest, exhaling. "I saw you and I wanted to check in on you and see how your family is doing." Julie told, Monica gulped nodding her head and smiled. "They're good, Richard is working hard as a boss." "How does Brady feel about his dad being his boss?" Julie giggled, "He loves it, he loves working hard, always has." "And your baby boy?" Monica silently sighs, tugging on her necklace. "Alex is good." Julie was confused at how blunt she was, "Didn't he just turned twenty-three?" Monica shook her head, "Yep." "Any plans on him moving out any time soon?" "Not that I know of." Monica chuckled, "But what do I know?" Julie chuckles along with her. The dark wooden table dinning table glistened in the warm lighting as Alex sat. He chewed on the sandwich in the early evening, enjoying the peace and quiet, but it soon ended by a loud slam. Alex heard heels click against the flooring, growing louder till they reached the kitchen. The crinkling sound of bags made a thud on the counter top. "What is wrong with you?" Alex was taken back at the harsh words his mother told, "What?" "Don't 'what' me, Alex." Monica hissed back. "I'm sorry but, I'm confused." He squinted, wiping his hands on a napkin. "I know, Alex." Monica placed a hand on her hip, "Know what?" "I know." Alex gluped. "Listen-" Alex placed a hand in front of him as he stood, "No! You listen." Monica started walking closer to her son, who hung his head. "Why did you lie about working at a store?" Alex looked at her in almost relief, "I thought you would be proud of me.." Monica furrowed her brows and crossed her arms. "So, lying to me, your father and brother about getting a job that you don't even work at is suppose to make me proud of you? I'm sorry but that's complete utter bullshit." Alex sighed, "Why do I even have to tell you anyway?" Monica's jaw dropped as he started to walk back to the table. "Excuse me? Last time I checked you still lived under my roof and I have the right to know why you lied to me!" "Well maybe I don't want to tell you every fucking thing that goes on in my life, alright?!" "Whoa, Hey, what's going on here?" From all the yelling, Monica and Alex didn't hear the front door open. Richard looked at the both of them, Monica looked at her husband and stood on her tip toes. "Your son lied about getting a job." Richard looked at Alex, as his hands were lost in his pockets, "Son, why would you lie about that?" Alex hated to tell a lie, especially to his father. "Are you on drugs? Drinking?" Monica blurted out, "What? No." Alex grunted in frustration, "Ugh! I'm not doing drugs or drinking! I've been boxing." "What?!" Monica yelled, leaving Richard silent, which made her even more furious. "Are you serious?" Alex opened to his mouth to say something but nothing came out, "Richard, aren't you gonna say something?" Monica looked up at her husband, Alex looked towards his father's voice, waiting for him to say everything that was wrong with the idea. "What can I say? Honey, Alex is twenty-three years old, I can no longer tell him what to do, even if it's stupid. I'm not going to treat him like a child, he's an adult and he'll learn like one. Plain and simple." Monica scuffed at the words that were coming out of his mouth, Alex was surprised but certainly happy that his father was on board. "I cannot belive what I'm hearing." She threw her hands in the air, "My first fight is this Saturday, I would love for you to be there.. both of you." "You're crazy if you think I'm going." Monica told, "Please, mama?" She shook her head, without Alex not being able to see, he knew. "Look, I'll make you a deal." Alex walked towards his mom, "If I lose, I won't fight again and I'll go to college." She smiles, "But, if I win, I'm gonna stay and become a boxer." Monica looked up at her son, who had a smirk on his face that she couldn't say no to. Alex had his eyes closed, his neck arched as he sat on the bench in the locker room. He snickered as he heard the crowd cheer through the thick brick wall from the next room over. Eddie quickly caught Alex's attention when he entered the room, "You nervous?" He asked, crossing his arms. "Nah." He shook his head, standing up. "It's okay to be, you know?" Eddie told, Alex nodded adding a smile. "Nerves fuel the body." Eddie sighed under his breath, watching the young boy punch the air in his red gloves. "Ready?" "Ready as I'll ever be." Alex jumped. "Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you for attending tonight's fight. I'm your host, Fred Coan." "And I'm co-host, Jerry Kline." "It's going to be a great one as two young men go head to head. Conner 'Buster' Collins and Alex Flex who doesn't have a name yet, as this is his first ever fight." "I think I hear some music, Fred." Jerry smiled, looking over his shoulder as the lights shined on the man who entered the arena. "You're right, Jerry. Here comes Conner 'Buster' Collins, ladies and gentlemen. This is his third fight, with one win and one lose. So, expect his score to change after this fight." Fred chuckled into the microphone, turning back to watch the fighter enter the ring. The music fades out and the bright lights shadow over the two men. "There's the new kid in town, Alex Flex. I say it again this is his first fight, Jerry." "I heard ya, my friend. Now, there's something you should know about Flex, and this has never happened in the world of boxing, now has it?" "No, it has not." "The fact is, Alex is blind, yes you heard correctly. The first ever blind boxer in American history, does it say in the rule book that this is allowed?" "We have checked all the rules and it does not say you can't be blind and compete, Jerry." "Alright, well you heard it ladies and gentlemen. Let's get this show on the road, shall we?" Eddie's rough hand's were placed on Alex's sweaty, smooth shoulders as they walked up the steps and into the ring. Alex stretched his arms, cracking his neck, bouncing on his tip toes. "Do you see my parent's?" Eddie paused what he was doing and his eyes darted to the crowd and landed on the familiar green orbs. "Your brother." Alex sighed silently, bowing his head. Heels and a pair of boots clicked on the concrete, Richard's hand were on Monica's side as she was rushing into the building. Heavy boots continuously tapped on the floor, finger placed on lips and eyes focused on his baby brother. "Brady!" He looked up waving his calloused hand in the air, motioning his parents to sit next to him. "Did we miss anything?" Richard asks taking the empty chair by his wife who had been silent the whole ride. "They just introduced them." Brady told, the room became quiet as the announcer stood in the middle of the ring. "Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to tonight's fight. I'm Ralph Fletcher and on my left is Conner Collins, and standing here to my right is, Alex Flex. Let's get ready to rumble!"   "Okay, men. You know what to do, no rabbit punches, now low blows. I want a clean fight, alright? Tap gloves and stand back." The referee ordered, he blew the whistle. "Fight." Alex walked forward, circling around the man in front of him, his feet stayed swift and quiet, focusing on the other movement Conner made. Alex's glove touched his left cheek, earning a cheer from the crowd. Conner brushed it off, dodging one hit and smacking Alex's head. Spinning circles in his mind, he blink, getting one good in the opponents face. "Good job, A!" Brady yelled out, cupping his hands together. Monica's worried eyes went in many directions as the two fight danced around the box. The bell rung, Alex grunted, "Damn that's loud." Eddie gripped on his shoulder, "Remember what I told ya, what'd I say?" "Mute everything around you and focus on the other guy's feet." Alex shook his head. Alex turned, placing his gloved covered hands in front of his chest, Conner landed a hit on his side, "Come on hit me!" Alex backed up his arm, forcing a jab to hit, nothing. Alex's body flew onto the hard floor, hearing the 'Get up's.' 'Come on.' 'Not fair.' and even laughter, moved him to stand up. "Let's go, boy!" Conner threw out, pressing his blue gloves together. Alex sighed, closing his eyes and walked around with him, Alex flew a hard jab to his nose, causing him to back away. The bell rang, he smiles, bowing his head and walked back to Eddie. "Did I mention your parents are here?" He quickly rose his head, "They made it?" Alex smiles. "Go put him down, son." Eddie rubbed his head, sweat beads falling off his glowing body. The two boxers continued to circle around each other, hitting and dodging one another, hearing the boo's and cheer's. Fourth round, Alex's tired body swayed side to side, huffing and puffing. "Come on, brother!" Brady yelled, "You can do it son!" Richard clapped, standing up. He looked down to his wife, arms crossed and teary eyed. "Monica, he's our son. He's not our baby anymore. He found something, something he truly loves. It may not be what you thought, but for him to really shine, you have to be his light, not his darkness." Monica's red painted nails wrapped around his fingers, standing up. "You can do it, Alex!" Suddenly, everything stopped for him. Alex looked towards his mother's words, she smiled at him as he smiled back. Alex barely let the floor make a peep as he danced around Conner, bloody and in pain Conner looked up at him, watching as Alex backed his arm, coming in contact with his temple. Alex made a left jab in Conner's right cheek making him completely go down. The whole crowd roared through the building, Eddie ran to his side, as well as the media and the ref. "Congratulation's to Alex Flex with his first win!" "That was amazing!" "Since this is your first win, do you think you could make a career out of it?" Alex let a small, tired sigh, smiling with his arm around Eddie's shoulder. "Come on, champ." "Wait, there's something I gotta do." Alex told, Eddie knew and guided him out of the ring. "Great job, brotha'!" Brady laughed, picking him up. "Thanks, B" Alex chuckled, "I'm proud of you son." Richard shook his head, "Thanks, dad." Monica looked up at her son, like it was the first day he was born. "Ma?" She engulfed him in a hug, not caring he was in pain. "I love you too, ma." He hugged back.  Alex sat on the bench, relaxing after the big fight that happened yesterday. He listened as the other men in the gym worked out, "Hey, fighter." Eddie walked up behind him. Alex chuckled, his bones still aching, bruises peppering his skin all over. Eddie looked at his 'barely there' black eye, "So, what's on your mind?" Alex flicked his finger on his lip as he thought. "To be honest, I'm surprised I won that fight, Ed." "I believe most first time boxers think the same." Eddie replied, grunting as he sat across from him. "Do you think I have a chance in this world?" Alex looked up, Eddie looked him in the eyes. "As long as your hearts in it kid, you have a bigger shot than anyone else." Alex smiled but, quickly faded as he heard the front door open, "Thanks, Russo." "No prob-" "I'm sorry to interrupt but, is a Alex Flex here?" A girl's voice asked, Eddie and Alex turned their attention to her. Eddie stood up, "Who's askin'?" the girl chuckled nervously. "I'm CeCe Stewart, I work for the newspaper and I-" "I'm sorry but, I don't want my boy's face plastard all over the media." Eddie crossed his arms, frowning at the young girl. "I understand, I just thought someone like Alex, would maybe inspire some people like him." Eddie sighed, "Hey, I got it, man." Alex nodded his head, Eddie looked up and down at her and pointed a finger. "Don't get in his head." CeCe placed her shoulder bag beside her as she sat down, "Hello, I'm CeCe." she held out her hand and her cheeks rose in red. "You stuck out your hand out, didn't you?" Alex rested his palm on his knee, "I-I am so sorry, I feel so embarrassed." she giggled, Alex joined her. "You'd be surprised if I told ya I get that a lot actually, people tend to forget." CeCe looked up at him, the sunlight glazed over his green eyes, she'd be lying if she didn't think he was kind of cute. "Do you mind if I ask a couple of questions?" CeCe asks, taking out her notepad and a pen. "Ask away." "Okay, so you're Alex Flex and you're?" "Twenty three." "Only a year older than me." CeCe chuckles. "When did you loose your eyesight?" "Completely loose it? I was fourteen. I had been diagnosed with it when I was twelve." "Ah, I got you." CeCe understood, writing it down, saving the information. "Yeah." Alex nodded. "I heard you won you're first fight last night." "Indeed I did." Alex chuckles. "Unfourtantly I wasn't there, I had no idea about it, I'm not really into the fighting thing." CeCe frowned, putting her stuff away. "Then how come you're interviewing me?" Alex scuffed, confusion was written all over his face. "I heard some of my co-writters talk about it, and I'm the one who writes what's new or a story." "Ah." Alex nodded, still confused. "Could I write a small paragraph about you?" Alex looked in front of him where she sat, and thought. He didn't know if he wanted to be a public figure, or if he was ready to be one. Alex had already gotten some looks, and harassment from life, he didn't know if he was willing to go through with this knowing it might get worse. "Keep it short." Alex pointed, his tone was firm. "Yes, I will." She stood up, gathering her bag. "Oh, one more thing." CeCe said, picking up a camera. "We writers have to include a picture." Alex shook his head, looking in front of him, a click went off

                 The Daily News

                   Blind Boxer?

Meet Alex Flex, a 23 year old who lives right here, in the heart of Dallas, Texas. Alex has a passion for boxing, despite his disability (blindness) which he was diagnosed when he was just twelve years old age. Flex won his first fight last night against Conner 'Buster' Collins, in case you missed it, check it out! (next page).

 "How does it look?" Alex asked, standing behind Eddie as they were surrounded by the whole gym. "You're drop dead gorgeous." Johnny joked, gently pushing his shoulder. "I do try." Alex joked back. "It looks good, Alex." Andy told him. "I was kind of scared of what that girl was going to put." Alex told the room. "Alright, everyone go back to what you were doing." Eddie said, walking away from the group of men, the sound of crinkling filled Alex's ears. Eddie sighed as he walked in his office, dropping the newspaper on the desk. Alex leaned against the door frame. "I'm guessing you're not a fan of the media?" "No, never have been." Eddie fisted his hands together. "Care to explain why?" Alex asked, walking in and taking a seat. "They spread bad shit, kid." Eddie told a little too harshly, looking at him. Alex stayed silent, not knowing what to say to the man who had his own opinions. "It's not a good idea to stay in it. Just keep fighting, stay out of the media, Alex." Eddie ordered, Alex nodded.

The night came sooner than later, bright lights glowed over the roads. As three men walked the city, engaging in their conversations. "I can't believe you've never been to a bar." The tallest in the group said. "Yeah, like what do you do if you're bored?" Andy looked at Alex who walked in between the men. "Go to the gym." Johnny and his baby brother burst out in laughter, Alex chuckled, shaking his head. "We'll show you some fun, man." Andy wrapped his arm around his shoulder as they walked into a bar. "Hey! It's the Russo brother's!" The owner yelled out, slapping his hand against them. "How are ya, Tommy?" Johnny asks letting go of his hand. "Running this joint, what bout you?" "Working hard in the gym, pops is training this guy right here." Johnny pointed at Alex who stood with his hands in his pockets. "You're Alex Flex, right?" Tommy asked, before Alex could answer him Johnny interrupted him. "Oh yeah, he's a bad ass." Johnny chuckled, looking at the quiet man. "Sit, sit." Tommy told, grabbing a couple of beers for the gentlemen. "So, Alex, how'd you get into boxing?" Tommy opened his beer.

The door swung open as the three wasted men slummed out, holding onto one another. The empty sidewalk echoed with laughter as they walked. "Aannd that's how I-Johnny Russsso, lost his virginity to a worthless, cheating-ass, fuckin' bitch." Johnny slurred his words, getting angry with each word. "Ahhh, I-I'm sorry, man." Alex said, looking up at the tall guy. "Hey! Alex, my brother is a big boy, he's fine!" Andy told, his feet stumbled. "Yeaaah, I'm the biggiest, baddest boy there is!" Johnny yelled, rising his shirt sleeve up to flex his biceps. "Impressive." Alex nodded, "That ain't nothin', check this out!" Andy mimicked his brother, Johnny and Alex burst out in laughter, causing Johnny to fall onto the concrete. "Fuckin' dumb ass. You're so stupid." Andy laughed harder, holding his stomach. The three men continued to laugh as they stayed on the sidewalk, Johnny layed against the brick wall, Andy held onto a newspaper stand as he threw up. Alex struggled to stand still, his body moving back and forth, rubbing his palms on his forehead. "Look at these assholes." A voice appeared in the darkness. "Is that Flex?" Another voice said, the street light hovered over Alex as Johnny and Andy were in the dark. "What's up, cheater?" Alex squinted his eyes, focusing on the three new voices that belonged to men. "Who the fuck you callin' cheater?" Alex asked. "I am, remember me?" A face finally appear into the light. "Conner?" "Damn right." Connors's tone was forward and harsh. "How did I cheat?" Alex snarled, his nose wrinkled in anger. "Because, you're blind. People feel sorry for you, you rigged the fight somehow." "Yes, cause I have the power do so, you're fuckin' crazy." Alex scuffed, shaking his head. "What'd you call me, asshole?" Conner walked towards him, Johnny quickly stood up, Conner stopped in his track. "Get the fuck outta my way, you freak." Conner looked up from his pecks and into his face. "Nah, I'm good." Johnny snickered. "Fine." Conner attempted to push him out of his way, but failed. "Hey! Get the hell off of my brother!" Andy came out of the darkness and punched Conner in the cheekbone. "Agh! You bitch!" Conner hissed, holding his now forming bruise cheek. Conner's friend pushed Johnny out of his way as Conner walked towards Andy and began to punch him. Alex heard his groans, and reached for Conner's shirt. "Hey! Hit me, I'm the one you want!" "How about I just beat the both of you." Conner told back. Andy punched his neck, causing him to move backwards into Alex's hold. Alex jabbed him in his back, Conner yelled out. Johnny took on the two other's with ease until one of them hit his knees, his weakness. "Johnny!" Alex gasped out when the tall man went down. Conner grabbed Alex's shoulder, giving him a black eye and began to continuously hit him in the ribs. Andy took of hold of one the men's leg and dragged him on the concrete, scraping the side of his face. He then turned the hurt man on his back and broke his nose. Johnny stood up as the guy was on his shoulders, Johnny reached up, grabbing his head and slammed him into the sidewalk. Conner held onto Alex's shirt collar, while his face was covered in blood, no sound could escape his mouth. Johnny's knees stumbled, he fisted his hands, rage filled his veins. "Leave. Him. Alone." Johnny's big hand fisted around his skull, pinching his hair as he stood him up and threw Conner's body against the brick wall. Johnny picked up Alex as he struggled to breath, carrying him away from the group of men. "Come on." Johnny tapped his foot on his brother's side, making Andy stop hitting the unconsciousness man.

"Turn to the right." Flash. "Face forward." Flash. Alex let his arms fall to the side as he held onto the board, his face burned from last night's event. The jail cell opened, Johnny and Andy sat waiting for his return from the nurse. "Your face isn't that bad." Johnny comment, his face twitched as he looked at the bruises on Alex's swollen cheek. "You couldn't tell a damn thing with all that blood." Andy looked over at his brother, Alex sighed heavily as he sat down, pinching his nose. A headache from drinking was forming, getting worse by the second. It grew silent between them, the only thing you heard was phone's going off and chatters from the police officers. A familiar voice echoed through the small building, making them raise their heads. "There's my boys." Eddie raced to the cell, Johnny and Andy ran to greet him through the bars. Eddie looked at Alex who was still sitting down on the cold bench. "Come on, son." Alex raised his head up, furrowing his brows. "Let's go home." The car ride through the night was silent, street lights passing by as Eddie drove. Guilt and hopelessness filled the energy around the young men. Eddie finally broke the quiet, "I don't care who started or ended it. I'm just glad that they're not pressing charges against any of y'all." he gripped the steering wheel, looking back at his boys. "They're not?" Andy spoke up, "No." he shook his head. Johnny was dissapointed in himself, even if his father wasn't, he was. As the oldest of the group, he thought he should've been more mature about the situation. Andy was just a baby compared to Johnny and Alex, protecting his brother and best friend. Alex felt like this was the most awful thing that could've happened, especially now. The car came to a stop, Alex looked to his right, seeing the dirt road that lead to his home. The handle clicked as he got out, Eddie greeted him. Johnny and Andy watched as the two talked outside the car. "If you think that this ruined your career, it didn't." Eddie looked at the boy who had guilt written all over. "Shit like this happens, and it sucks. But, Alex, you have to be smart about it. You can't just beat up a couple of guys beside a bar." "We weren't, it was-" "Self defense I know. It's okay, I'm not mad at any of you. Just be smart, let that shit go and keep doing what you're doing, alright?" Eddie met Alex's eyes, the crickets beginning to fill the silence. "Thanks, man." Alex hugged Eddie tightly. "You bet." Eddie slapped his back before letting him go. Johnny and Andy waved a goodbye as he began to walk into the darkness.

As days, weeks and months went on. Alex fought over twelve guys, wining all of them. His fame rose to the top, everyone knew who Alex 'Daredevil' Flex was. Johnny and Andy began to also fight along side him, earning Russo's Gym more money. Richard and Monica were proud of their son as he became better and better not only as a fighter, but a person. Brady was always right there in the front row for his baby brother, constantly telling him how great of job he did. The press followed him, always asking him question where ever he went, when Alex promoted Eddie as his manager, he hired his own son to become the bodyguard for certain occasions. "What a knockout!" "Look at that jab work!" "Another win for Alex Flex." "This is Alex's fifteenth win of his career!" The red glove that held against Alex's hand, met his opponent's temple causing him to go down within seconds. The crowd stood to their feet, as the referee counted to ten, he was out. Alex raised his arms in the air, sweat droplet's fell to the ring. The corner's of his lips formed a smirk as his fans cheered him on. Johnny and Eddie pushed aside the press as they made their way to his locker room, "Not now!" Eddie's voice roars to the people before Johnny shut the door. "You did fantastic tonight, kid." Eddie told, he slick back his grey hair as he took off his beanie and sat down. Alex smiled at him as he pulled a shirt over his head, "Going to go celebrate tonight at Tommy's." Alex offered. "Ah, no. I think I'm just gonna head home, don't drink too much, gotta train tomorrow." Eddie said standing up, "Come on, Russo. You never want to hang unless it's at the gym, which is not hanging out by the way." Alex pointed, chuckling. "Alright, fine-" The door opened which caught their attention, "Sorry to intrude." a voice said. "CeCe?" Alex furrowed his brows, questioning the girly voice. "Hi, how you doing?" She smiled, tucking her things under her arm. "I'm good." Alex shook his head, hands resting on a chair. "That's good." Eddie crossed his arms together once again, not liking where this was going. "May I ask what you're doing here?" Eddie asked politely-which was hard for him. "I wanted to write about you in the newspaper for tomorrow." "Again?" Alex asked, "Well you've grown a lot since I last talked to you, you're practically famous now." CeCe chuckles, Alex liked the word famous beside his name. "Sure." He agreed, Eddie stuck out his watch, "If we wanna make those reservations, we better leave now." "Oh shit, yeah." Alex gasped lightly, "Hey, why don't you come with?" CeCe looked up, "Oh no, I don't want to bother your party." "No, it'll be fun. The more the merrier." Alex smiles. The bar was filled with loud music, chatters, tv and bottles clinking together as the night was about celebration. Friends and family cheered on Alex as he walked into the small building, his back was tapped with pats for his success. "Good job, buddy!" "Hey, way to go brother." "Here's the real champ." Alex smiled as he walked down the aisle, nice encouraging words filled his ears, something he earned for. "Thanks, everybody." Alex nods to the people he was close to, "First round is on me, fighter." Tommy told, wiping the clean mug with his rag. "Wow, it's nice to be famous." Alex chuckled, taking his first swig of beer. "Can I have a hug or are ya too famous for ya brother?" Brady laughed, coming up behind him, "Ah, shit. Come here." Alex gripped onto his brother. "You did good, A. I'm proud of you." Brady told, rubbing his dirty blonde hair before he pulled away. "Thanks, B. Thank you for always being there for me, couldn't have done it without you." Brady smiled at his brother, his faded green eyes sparkled for once. Brady knew he was happy, it was a long time coming for the young man. "No problem." "Have time for the little people?" Monica asks, "Get over here, ma." Alex kissed her hair. Monica looked up at her youngest son, it almost made her eyes well up with tears as happy he seemed with his life. It was dawning on her that, if she never let him be who he is truly supposed to be, it'd killed her with the guilt it would've caused. "I love you, baby." "Love you too, mama." Alex smiled down at her before hearing his father's grunt. "Couldn't be more proud of you, Alex." Richard squeezed Alex's shoulder, "Keep up the good work, alright?" "Will do, pop." Alex nodded. "Now is it my turn?" CeCe giggled, raising her eyebrow at the man sitting at the bar. "Ah, I'm sorry." Alex sighed, "I'm all ears." he smiled. CeCe took a seat beside him, taking out her notepad and pen. "And that's how my brother and I fell into the pond and wrestle a bass, gotta scar to prove it." Alex smirked, quickly laughing along with CeCe. "Wow, I didn't know you used to wrestle." She said, sipping on her water, Alex chuckled before finishing his beer. CeCe silently sighed to herself as she counted the seventh bottle, not including the shots of tequila that was on the house. His hand going up once again, ordering another one. "You like to drink don't ya?" Her face was questioning, she was glad he couldn't read her mind. "Nah, I'm just celebrating that's all." Alex shook his head at her before taking a swig. "Yeah, I know Tony, we were just talking about that yesterday." "Now, don't get me wrong, Wayne. Alex Flex is a great fighter, but up against Jake Hammer? Guy doesn't stand a chance." Alex furrowed his brows as he listened to the voices, he turned his head to the right. "Turn that up would ya?" Tommy pressed the button, turning up the volume on the t.v. "I have to agree with you there, I mean they don't call him 'Shatterproof' for nothing." Alex snarled at the laughter that filled the air, the alcohol pumping through his veins. Alex looked down at the counter, his grip on the glass became tighter and tighter until it broke. "Whoa!" Tommy's eyes grew and started to clean up the mess, Alex didn't apologize as his anger worsen. "Jake is a monster, I mean take a look at this knockout!" "And that was only in round one!" "Alex Flex is nothing compared to this man." The chair squeaked back, causing the room to become quiet. Alex craned his neck to the t.v that hung on the wall, listening. "I can take on that guy no problem!" Alex yelled, chatters filled the tension. "I ain't nothing!" His voice rose more with anger, "I'm Alex Flex, I can fight whoever the fuck I want!" Johnny touched his tense shoulder, Alex swatted at it. "Don't touch me!" Alex looked behind him, the stares he got didn't phase him nor did the whispers. The angry man turned his attention back to the screen, gripping the edge of the counter top with his fists. "Jake's score is twenty four, with no loses! Can you believe that?" "Could you turn that off?" Eddie asked, leaning over the bar. Alex pushed himself off the counter in quick motion, his footsteps slammed against the hardwood floor. "No, No. Don't turn that off!" Alex roared, "Come on, turn it back on." "I'm sorry-" "NOW!" Alex pointed, making everyone in the room shake in fear of the what to be appear a drunken-angry boxer. "Let's go, Alex." Eddie told in a soft voice, careful not to tip him off any more. "I'm good, I'm good." Alex grunted through his teeth, walking back to his seat by CeCe who was wide eyed about the scene. The room watched as he hung his head, holding himself against the bar. Music continued on, people went back to socializing and drinking. Alex muted everything around him, his knuckles were white, the words spun around his brain like a merry-go-round. Alex squinted his eyes shut as it kept going, he felt a hand on his forearm, he flinched at it, causing CeCe to gasp at his reaction. Alex's fingers gripped what was closes, he smashed the black bar stool into pieces. "Fuck you! Fuck all of you sorry sons of bitches!" Alex spat at ceiling, Johnny and Andy got a hold of his arms, Eddie sighed at what was unfolding. "Let go!" "Calm down." Johnny tried, struggling to stay still with his moving arms.  "Don't mess with me!" Alex got out of the strong hold and pushed the tall man away. "Come on, man. Don't be like this." Andy voice was worried, "What? I like who I am. I'm Alex Fucking Flex! Who the fuck are you?" Alex spat. "Hey!" Eddie's voiced roared, causing to Alex look behind him. "Don't talk to anyone like that, you hear?" Alex chuckled, his breath hitched. "What do you know, old man?" "What do I know?" Eddie laughed under his breath, walking closer to the man. "I know that you don't have a manager anymore, boy." Alex glared at Eddie as he passed him, "Fine, go! I don't need you! I don't need anybody!" Alex screamed. A hand grabbed a hold of Alex's collar, pulling him out of the bar and into the night. "Hey! Get yo-" Alex gasp as a hand met his sore cheek, he hissed at the sudden pain. "Have you lost your damn mind?" Alex closed his eyes as his mother's words, Brady's grip loosen as he seemed to calm down. "What is wrong with you Alex? What happened? Tonight's was supposed to be about you celebrating for becoming a professional boxer, not about you becoming the world's biggest jerk." Monica yelled, her words piercing his body like if he was in the ring. Alex lifted his head, Brady looked at his brother, his eyes read anger and disappointment like his mother's. "They were talking shit on my name." Alex spoke softly, his hands finding the pockets of his jeans. "And is that true? All those words true about you? No they're not, if you keep this act up, it will be true, you will be nothing. I agreed to you fighting and winning. I didn't agree for you to let that fame get inside your brain and make you cocky. You need to get your head straight, Alex. Stop acting like a damn child who doesn't like what a couple guys say about him." Alex sighed heavily, Monica crossed her arms and walked closer to him. "You know, Alex. I can't tell you what to do, or even what to say. You're a grown man who should know the right's and wrong's about this world. You wanna fight? Fine go ahead, I'm right there with you. You wanna act like a cocky, arrogant, always angry drunk? Go ahead, but you're gonna have to do it without me." Alex felt a breeze as she passed him and into the bar, Brady looked at Alex as he seemed feeling aside from himself. Alex heard his heavy boots scrape the concrete, "I don't know what's going inside that brain of yours." Alex scuff, chuckling. "Brady, you don't what it's like to be in my shoes. You don't know what it's like to win." Alex snarled at him, his nose wrinkling in anger, they shared a look, the mixture of worried and hurt filled Brady's eyes. "No, Alex, I don't. But, I do know what it's like to lose somebody who is so lost that he doesn't even know who he is anymore." Brady took one last look at his little brother before disappearing in the night.

The locker room felt colder than usual, there wasn't any jokes or advice being thrown at him to make the fight easier. No arm to hang onto as they walked in the spotlight, no one to call him 'kid' or 'son'. Alex struggled to tighten his own gloves on, his teeth gripping the tape around his palm. The world didn't seem to bother him at the moment, his mind was clouded with one thought and one thought only. It wasn't his parents, Eddie, the girl he struggled to remember her name, his best friends or his brother. Alex was determined, had a drive to do this one task and he wanted the whole world to see it too. Put it in the books, newspaper, take your pictures, ask your questions, but just please watch me do this one thing and it'll all be okay. "Alright, ladies and gentlemen, it's time for what you all have been waiting for. Alex 'Daredevil' Flex against Jake 'Shatterproof' Hammer." Jerry Kline told the crowd through the microphone. "It should be great one, Fred." Richard frowned at the screen in front of him, he looked to his right, seeing Monica practically beg through the t.v for Alex to stop with her eyes. Richard's hand landed on hers, "You've done all you could." he kissed her temple. "Here comes the champ of twenty four wins with no loses, Jake Hammer!" "I'll say, Jerry. This guy is a beast!" "That he is, Fred, that he is." Johnny flipped through the channels, as Andy sat next to him. Eddie grunted when he sat down in his chair, Johnny looked at his father, who hasn't talked much to him since the night everyone departed. Andy barely spoke a word, unless it was about Alex or the night, or both. Johnny stayed strong for his dad and brother, he was the glue that held them together, much like his mother did. "Leave it." Johnny's finger hovered over the button, he watched as Eddie sat up from his recliner to watch the young boy he trained. Jake cracked his neck as he stood in the ring, his dark eyes looking over the crowd, his black attire flowed as he bounced on his feet. The music stopped as it skipped to the next. Half of the stadium began to cheer him on as he entered the room. "Here comes, Alex Flex. It appears that he doesn't have his manager Eddie Russo with him." "He sure doesn't, hopefully it doesn't effect his fighting." The dark room was lit by the colors of the t.v screen, the leather couch glowed by the light. The sound of a dog barking echoed through the apartment, "Agh! I'm coming." Brady grunted in the kitchen and sprinted to the living room. "I didn't miss anything, did I Rex?" Brady pet the black Great Dane as he sat beside the massive dog. "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. I'm your announcer, Ralph Fletcher. On my right stands a two-hundred-fifteen pound, six-four, Jake 'Shatterproof' Hammer!" "And, weighing at one-hundred-fifty pounds, six-one, Alex 'Daredevil' Flex!" Johnny and Andy's nails were in their mouths, nerves chomping away. Eddie mumbled words to himself about how crazy Alex was. "Touch gloves and back away." Jake smirked down at Alex, pushing down his red gloves harshly. "Good luck, blindy." He laughed as he began to walk away, Alex grabbed a hold of his shoulder, but Jake pushed him back causing him to fall. "What was that?" Richard leaned forward watching as the referee tried to break the two up before the bell rung. Monica sighed, shaking her head. "Break apart!" "What's wrong Alex? You getting worried? Trying to catch me off guard?" "Man, fuck you." Alex spat in his face. "Round one hasn't even started and the men are already going at each other's throats." Jerry told, looking over at the ring that was filled with people trying to separate the boxers. Eddie groaned, his head falling into his hands. Johnny's eyes went to the screen to his father, knowing there was no words to say to make it okay. "Alright. You calm? You calm? You two good now? Save it for the fight, boys." The referee said, the end of each hand touching the air between the fighter's chest. The bell rung. "Fight." Alex lifted his shoulders, his gloves hovering over his chest, listening to the sounds Jake made with his feet. "You're going down, chump." Jake told before hitting Alex in the eyelid, Alex hissed at the pain, looking up at him. Alex darted at giant, Jake slid to his right, dodging Alex's body. The crowd boo'ed the two fighters, Alex adjusted himself, stretching out his arms before circling around the ring. "Why isn't he doing anything I've told him? Haven't you learned anything I taught you?" Eddie told Alex through the t.v, he folded his sweaty hands as he study his movements. Jake pounced on his heels, jabbing a hard hit against Alex's forehead. Alex's feet stumbled underneath him, causing him to lose balance and fall. "Man, give me a challenge!" Jake shouted, his body shadowed over him, Alex grunted as he struggled to stand. Jake chuckled to himself as put his hands on his hips, Alex swayed his body, "Come on, hit me." his mouth guard showed. "Don't mind if I do." Jake sprinted to the hurt man, Alex gave him his own medicine and dodged it. "Nice one, A." Brady shook his head, he rested his chin on his knuckles. The light glowed on his worried face as he watched the boxer's continue to hit one another til the bell rung. "Wow, that is the end of round one, ladies and gentlemen. What a sight to see with these two." Jerry's voice echoed the building, watching them go to their own corner's. Jake's manager talked into his ear as his crew indeed to his one cut. Alex bowed his head when he stood back facing to the opponents, his arms dangling on the rope. "Come on, just let it go, Alex." Monica whispered to herself, twirling the necklace the wrapped around her neck as nerves settled in. The bell rung in Alex's ears, he slowly turned around, hearing Jake's unstoppable feet. Alex furrowed his brows as he tried to mute the sounds around him, voices began to fill his mind with words. "You are nothing!" "This guy has no chance." "You're gonna have to do it without me." Jake watched as Alex's face read confusion, his gloves reaching for his ears. "Shut up." Alex told himself, Jake looked around him, wondering. He shook it off and made the perfect opportunity to punch Alex, multiple times in the ribs. Alex held up his forearm in defense as Jake jabbed him, Alex yelled in pain and caught onto Jake's arms. "Get the fuck off of me!" Jake pushed off of him, and punch him in cheekbone. "I'm not your manager anymore, boy." "Don't be like this." "Alex, calm down." Alex raised his body up as his skin was pulsing, he could feel blood dripping down his face. Sweat poured from his hair, he could see Jake's form from the bright light. Alex's left eye was swollen shut, his chest rising as he struggled to breath from the hit in his lung. Jake was forming a jab, until the bell went off and the referee saved Alex. "Man, that was a close one!" "I'm not sure how long Flex can last, Fred." "I really hope this ends soon, it's a bloodbath." Alex's knees hit the floor as he lost control, he gripped the red rope in between his glove. Blood, sweat and tears running down his swollen face, his breathing was abnormal and his legs wobbled against him. Alex silenced a whimpered, the stadium was too loud to hear Alex's cry. "Let it go, baby. You don't have to prove anybody." Monica whispered, her palms touching as she looked up at the ceiling. Richard placed a warm hand on her thigh, rubbing it gently before kissing her head. Jake punched his black gloves together as the bell for the third round to began. Alex used to the ropes to lift himself off the ground, his face covered in cuts and bruises. "Don't do it, Alex." Brady begged, Rex moved his elbow from underneath him. "It's okay, Rex. My brother has to find who he is, even if it means losing everything he's got." Brady brushed the dog's head with his fingertips. "Round three." "Fight." Jake's dark eyes never left Alex's green ones, his body swaying as Jake danced around the young man. "Put em' up, Flex." Jake told him, Alex looked at nothing, but forward. Jake landed a hit on his shoulder, "I'm right here, let's go." Jake screamed at him. "What's he doing?" Andy's voice was filled with worried as he watched Alex stand there, Johnny hung his head as he already knew. "He's giving up." Eddie whispered. A moan left Alex's throat as Jake earned a hit to his ribs, Alex held onto his body. The world became silent, no audible could be heard from Alex. Jake's hot breath didn't phase Alex as he screamed in his face, blood and saliva left Alex's mouth causing his mouth piece to fall to the floor. Alex's feet stood still when he came back up, Jake closed his eyes, with full force and power he landed his last hit on Alex. "Oh, my god." Monica gasps loudly, covering her mouth. "Alex!" Johnny and Andy yelled at the screen. "Shit!" Brady ran a hand through his beard. Alex's body completely stood still, his unconsciousness body fell hard and fast onto the ring, causing a loud thud through the stadium.

The flowers brought life to the cold hospital room, machine's beeped continuously throughout the weeks. Alex's plum colored face stung when he would wake up from the nightmares, sweat poured down as his chest rose and fell. The i.v was cold, but the loneliness was far much colder. Alex listened to the rumbling of the nasty weather that would flicker through the small window. No familiar face will show in his room, only the nurses and doctors that checked in every now and then. Tears filled his swollen black eyes, soaking the blanket that laid across his bruised body. Voices from the television was background noise for whenever his past flashed in his thoughts. Alex's knuckles cracked as he down the painkillers, chasing it with water, his throat was hot and course. Three weeks felt longer than any fight, than any conversation, longer than those long days with the eye doctor.

The gown was untied as he sat up on the bed, cracking his neck before standing to his week feet. A plaid shirt pushed back his blonde locks, he winched as it stung his still healing face. Alex hung his head, yellow and purple decorated his rib when he buttoned the shirt. Alex stood up fully clothed, a heavy sighed escaped his lips before walking out of the room. The sun warmed his cold, stiff body when he walked outside, the familiar sounds and smells surrounded him. Alex's hand found his pockets and started to walk on the sidewalk. A yellow cab eased the brake as it came to a stop, his finger left his lip and fell onto his thigh. "Here's your stop." The man told, he fiddle with his jeans before the man spoke again. "No need to pay, it's an honor, Mr. Flex." A frown turned into a quick small smile, the car drove off, leaving Alex standing in front of a tall building. The sound of a dog barking, echoed through the apartment. "What is it Rex?" Brady questioned the dog that stood in the kitchen. Rex's deep bark rumbled as another knock at the door filled his ears. Brady's furrowed expression soon fell when he came face to face with his brother. "Alex?" Brady's green orbs danced on his unrecognizable body, "Hey, Brady." his voice croaked as he hasn't spoken much. A scruffy face Alex entered the apartment, he flinched at Rex's barking. "Hey, Shh." Brady assured the animal, "You got a dog?" the older sibling looked at him, his voice made his throat hurt. "Yeah, his name is Rex." "That's cool, I'm happy for you." Brady sighed as he looked down at his pet, "What are you doing here, Alex?" his swollen eyes met the green ones a few feet away. "Came here for no judgement." Brady licked his lips before crossing his arms, and shook his head. "How long have you've been out of the hospital?" Brady asked, leaning against the white counter top. "How'd you know I was in the hospital?" Brady scuff at the man who stood with his hands in his pockets. "Did you see the fight? Have you seen yourself?" "Is that supposed to be a joke?" "No! Alex, it's not." Brady told, he sighed and crossed his arms, "I came and visited you." he mumbled loud enough for Alex to hear. "I'm sorry." Alex started, "I'm sorry for everything I've done wrong." Brady darted his eyes to his. "Don't give me that guilt trip bullshit." Brady shook his head, "I'm not! I came looking for help and I found you!" Alex shouted through the stinging tears. "I am sorry for everything. I'm sorry for losing that damn fight, for being a dick at the bar, for going off on you and mom. I'm sorry if I ever let you down, Brady. I-I'm sorry for being a damn burden on you guys." Alex struggled as a sob was forming. "Hey. Hey." Brady walked towards his brother, Alex collapsed into his arms as they fell to the floor. "Hey, it's okay." Brady hushed him, "I-I'm s-sorry for losing m-myself." Brady closed his eyes as the harsh words slipped out of his mouth. "It's okay, A. I have you."

The light of the t.v over took the darkness of the apartment, soft voices that came from the show that glowed on Alex's tired body. Brady leaned up against the frame, watching over his slumber. The steel toed boots lightly tapped on the wooden flooring, Brady ducked down his head. "You're never a burden to me." His whisper lingered as Brady and Rex made their way to the bedroom. Brady ran a hand through his beard as his grey sweatpants swept the dark hallway, the morning light warmed the air through the sheer curtains. Brady looked at the couch, he furrowed his brows as it was empty. "A?" He called out, his eyes went to the bathroom, no sign of him. A paper laid on the coffee table between the t.v and leather couch, it crinkled as he picked it up. "Morning, Brady. Sorry for ditching early, need to take care of some more things. I wanted to thank you for always taking care of me and never judging me for anything. I'm glad you're my brother, I love you." Brady smiled at the note, "Love you too, buddy."

The gym stood quiet as Eddie swept the concrete, sipping on his third cup of coffee to help him clean in the early morning. A slam of the front door echoed the small building, "We're closed." Eddie told as he wiped the board. When he got no response, he grumbled and put the eraser down. "What are you deaf? I said we're clos-" Eddie turned his attention around. "No, but I am blind." "Alex?" Eddie squinted at the figure in the sunlight. "Hey." Alex softly spoke, "Like I said, we're closed." he repeated himself as he walked passed him and into the office. "I came to talk to you." Alex followed him, "My ears have suddenly became closed too." Eddie grunted as he sat. "Come on, man. Don't be like this." Eddie shot Alex look, "Funny, my son said the exact same thing to you before you left us." "Left you? You left me." Alex shot back. "What did you just say? If I recall, you were so lost in yourself that you forgot who was really there for you." "Mr. I am Alex Fucking Flex." Eddie added, grumbling as he flipped through the paper. Alex sighed, hanging his head. "Look, Eddie. I'm sorry for being selfish, I had no right to be an asshole to my manager or my friends. I wasn't thinking, but I am now. I'm the same old Alex you once knew." Eddie looked up and down at him. "Damn, son. He really did a number on you." Alex shook his head, "I just wanted to say how sorry I am, man." "It's alright. It takes a man to own up for his mistakes. I'm proud of you." Alex smiled, "Okay, well. I gotta go own up to my mistakes to a couple other people." he sighed headed for the door. "Good luck, kid." The bell rung throughout the building as Alex entered. Sounds of keyboards clicking, people chattering and paper being printed. "Can I help you?" a voice asked, the person gasped as Alex turned his head. "Oh, my goodness. Sir, are you okay?" Alex furrowed his brows at the lady, "I'm fine, ma'am. I'm actually looking for someone." the lady nodded, she ducked her forward, wondering why he stopped speaking. "Continue." She told, "Oh, her name is CeCe Stewart." "That will be down the hall, last room to your right." Alex coughed nervously, "Could you guide me there? I-I'm." Alex pointed at his eyes. "Oh, of course." Alex followed the sounds of her heels click on the floor, "Here you are." "Thanks." Alex hummed. "Oh, might want to go to a doctor, get those eyes checked out." Alex chuckled, nodding his head. "Will do, ma'am." Alex leaned up against the frame of the room, hearing a keyboard being typed on. "Yes?" CeCe asked the figure she saw standing in the corner of her eye. "Hello, my name is Bob and I have a friend, who says he would like a story made about him in the newspaper." CeCe stopped her typing, and grabbed a pen. "Okay, what would he want?" "He says, he's really sorry for making a fool of himself in front of a beautiful girl he wanted to get to know, but he feels like he blew it and thinks she doesn't want to speak to him ever again." CeCe furrowed her brows, dropping her pen before standing, "I'm sorry, who are you again-" CeCe covered her mouth with her hands. "Alex." She breathed out, "Are you okay?" her hand reached for his face, but she remembered and pulled away. "I meant what I said. I'm sorry, CeCe." Alex stood straight, her lips departed, "Don't worry about, Alex. I just wanted to make sure you were okay, you know.. after the fight and all." Alex sighed. "I made a huge mistake, everything I've done. I feel like I really blew it with everybody. CeCe, I just want you to know that I'm not an jerk, I was drunk-and that's no excuse. I've changed, I'm not like that anymore." CeCe smiled at him, "You're a good man, Alex. Don't be so hard on yourself. I think us normal people understand, and it's okay." "Really?" "Really." Alex sighed in relief. "So, does this mean you'll give me another chance?" "You're way too cute not too." Alex stood in front of his childhood home, everything felt like it used to, the summer breeze when they would play, the smell of fresh cut grass that Richard did earlier. Alex went up the steps that was connected to the two-story house. Alex stretched his hand out and felt the wooden door, he made a fist, but before he could knock, it opened. "Alex." Richard spoke, he looked up and down at his son. "Hey, dad." Alex looked up, "Come here, son." Richard engulfed him in a hug. "Who was at the door, honey?" Alex pulled away, Monica gasped out. "Ma-" Monica didn't care that he hissed at the pain when she hugged him tightly. "I came to say I'm sorry." Alex's chin rested on her shoulder. "I'm sorry for being a horrible son and going off on you guys." Monica pulled his shoulders off, "You're not a horrible son, Alex. You just got away from yourself and us." "I don't want you to say that because I look like this, I know what I did was wrong, don't feel sorry for me." Alex pointed at his face, Monica eyes watered at the sight of the bruises, cuts and bandages. "It's okay, son. We are all human." Richard squeezed his shoulder, "We're just happy you're okay." Monica added. "Thanks guys." "We love you." "Love you guys too." Alex chuckled for the first time as they all three hugged.

Lighting strike through the grey clouds with thunder rumbling the ground. The wind blew the door shut behind Alex as he entered the gym. It wasn't silent, the old sounds he used to hear everyday was once heard again. Alex cracked his knuckles, his feet glued to the floor, inhaling and exhaling before punching the bag. Eddie entered the room, hearing the grunts that left his mouth. Alex continued his moves, his kicks and jabs like it never left. Eddie would have to lie, if he didn't say he missed it. Alex pulled away from the punching bag, "I would understand if you said, you don't want to be my manager." Alex lifted his head at the man, "I didn't say anything." Eddie shook his head. Alex turned his attention back the bag and continued on. Johnny and Andy came rushing in from the weather, "Well, so much for running." Johnny gasped for air as he was bent over. "Yeah, totally." Andy agreed, rising up from the floor. Alex's eyes met Andy's for a brief moment. "Alex!" Andy rushed over at the man working out, "What?" Johnny exhaled before seeing his best friend. "I'm so-" "Shut up, man." Andy hugged him, Alex sighed, gripping his back. Johnny waited until his brother pulled away, Alex looked up. "I would hit you for being a dick, but looks like Jake already did that." "I deserve that." Alex nodded in agreement, he grunted when Johnny engulfed him in a hug. "Ain't this a sight to see?" Eddie smiled at the trio, "Good to have you back, son." Alex shook his hand. "Hey! Guys, might want to hear this." Jason spoke up as he turned the t.v up. "We actually have Jake 'Shatterproof' Hammer with us. How's it going, Jake? Welcome to the show." Tony looked over at Jake sitting beside him. "I'm awesome, thanks for having me." "It's an honor. So, question. I understand a lot of people of been asking you to do a rematch with Alex Flex. What's your thoughts on that?" "Well, Tony. I'm all for winning yet again, so, yeah." Jake chuckled. "Great, that's great news. I just hope Flex is ready for you, if not, he better start training." "Ain't no training gonna save him, sir. You can train all day and night, but that doesn't matter once you're in the ring, all you gotta do it beat the other guy. That's all that matters." "I can agree with you there, Jake. Alright, we'll go more in depth of Jake 'Shatterproof' Hammer's career after the break." Eddie, Johnny and Andy watched as Alex listened to the show, no anger was shown across his face. "You okay?" Eddie asked as he turned his body towards the three men. "Yeah, why?" "They were talking about you, Alex." Andy told, "Yeah, and I can't change that can I?" Alex moved away from them. "You're going to change everything, son." Eddie walked up behind Alex as he dug into his bag, "How?" he turned around. "You saw what he did to me the first time, Eddie." "I can't let that happen again." Alex shook his head, passing him. "It's not going to happen again." "How?" "Because I'm going to train you and you will win this fight." Alex stopped in his tracks, his lips parted as he thought before turning around. "What do you say, Alex? Move pass this or, train harder than you have before and make history by defeating him?" "Come on let's go! Keep it up! Keep it up!" Eddie shouted, watching Alex whip the ropes in his palms. "One more mile. One more mile." Johnny exhaled looking down at his watch. "I wanna see more sweat!" Andy laughed as he jumped rope, watching as Alex picked up his pace. "Push! Push! Push!" Alex grunted at the wagon he was pushing with the two young men who sat comfortably encouraging on. "Wow! Just look at the left hook by Jake Hammer." "It's his twenty-eighth win!" "Unbelievable!" "Come on, son." Eddie rubbed Alex's head as he listened to the t.v in the gym, Alex sighed and continued to punch the bag as hard as he could. "Alex, come on! My wife could lift more!" Eddie roared, sweat beads were a waterfall on Alex's face as he struggled to lift the weight over his head. Two-forty he lifted, "Agh!" Alex grunted out as he droped the bar. "That's what I'm talkin' bout!" Johnny slapped a hand onto his, Eddie nodded. "Good job, kid." The birds chirped on the thin tree limb that was rooted in the parks ground. Warm summer sun shined down on the picnic that was layed out on the green grass, the two rested their hands on their stomachs as they enjoyed the peace and quiet. CeCe let out a breath and opened her eyes at the blue sky. "Alex?" Her voice was a whisper, not wanting to bother the man who seemed relax. "Hmm?" "Do you remember what the colors looked liked?" CeCe furrowed her brows at the question she asked, feeling a little dumb for letting it slip through her lips. "What do you mean?" CeCe switched her position to her side, so she could look at him. "Like, do you remember what the colors of the rainbow looked like?" Alex grunted as he rolled on his side, ribs still sore. "No, why don't you tell me?" Alex breathed out, his green eyes shined just right from the sunlight blaring on his skin. CeCe propped up her elbow, resting her head on the palm of her hand before speaking. "They put my hands in their pool. They told me that sensation I felt while swimming, the omnipresent coolness, that's blue. Blue feels like relaxation." Alex smiled, "Kinda like now." CeCe hummed in response. "What about red?" "They had me stand outside in the sun. They told me that the heat I was feeling is red. They explained that red is the color of a burn, from heat, embarrassment, or even anger." CeCe looked at Alex, noticing his eyes were on the plaid blanket underneath them, his hands fiddling with it. "I feel like that way during a fight." CeCe sat up and looked down at him, his blonde lock's gently flowing in the wind. "You ready for your big fight tomorrow?" "I can't answer that right now, CeCe." Alex focused on the feeling of grass between his fingers. "Well, no matter happens, you did your best. It takes a man to get back in the ring with another man he once almost lost his life to." Alex nodded, lifting his head up. "You're an amazing guy, Alex." "I'm who I am because of the people I surround myself with." Alex and CeCe smile. "What's your favorite color?" CeCe exhaled deeply, taking in the sent of the fresh air around them. "I held soft leaves and wet grass. They told me green felt like life. To this day it is still very much my favorite color." "I'm startin' to think green is my favorite now." Alex chuckles, "Oh, yeah?" "Yeah." he hummed in agreement, letting CeCe rest her head on his chest. "It sure is."

"Hello, ladies and gentlemen, I'm your host, Fred Coan." "I'm the co-host, Jerry Kline, we have yet another amazing fight tonight, don't we?" "Yes we do, Jerry. Jake 'Shatterproof' Hammer will be fighting-again Alex 'Daredevil' Flex. We all remember that one, don't we?" "I'm afraid we do, it was a obscure scene for sure, I don't think Alex got more than a hit on the guy." "I don't think he did either, hopefully that'll change tonight as Alex's manager, Eddie Russo has been training him hard for weeks on end." "We shall see, Jerry." The stadium that held over three thousands fans listened as the two men in suits spoke, spotlights dancing around, waiting for the boxers to make their entrance. "How's the knuckles?" Eddie asked as he wrapped the gaze around his palm, his bones cracked as he flexed them. "Still a little out of place, I'll say." Alex started down at his hands, listening to the press talk outside the door as it opened. "Hey, honey." "Mama." Alex looked up, hearing his mother's voice, "We want to wish you good luck, tonight." Alex snickered. "You beat that son of bitch, you hear?" Monica slapped Richard's shoulder, "Good luck, son." his father tapped on his back. Alex listened to his mother's unsteady breathing, her heart was beating faster than usual. "You don't have to be scared, ma." Alex shook his head, "I'm not scared, darling." "I can hear you heart." Monica sighed, her hand met her head. "I could never lie to you." Alex's lip curved into a smile, "I'll be alright." her arms wrapped his neck as he clutched onto her. "I love you, ma." "I know." The door handle creaked open, heavy steel toe boots hitting the floor. "I wasn't invited to the party?" Brady chuckled, "Hey, B." Alex lifted his chin. "Come on, hands up." Eddie told, slipping on the red gloves. "Ready?" The arena could be heard through the thick white wall, "I think they're more ready than I am." Alex chuckled. "Let's win this fight." Eddie told, Alex stood. "Wait." CeCe spoke up from the corner next to Johnny and Andy, she lifted her camera. "I need a picture to put in the paper." "Oh, yeah." Alex nodded, he gaze around the room before standing in front of the camera. CeCe squinted her eye, "Hang on." Alex lifted his glove up and turned around. "I want everybody." The room shared a look with each other and gathered around the man in the middle. "That means you too, C." Alex told, "What? But who's-" "Come on, babe. I can't be late to my own fight." he groaned in laughter. "Okay, okay." CeCe giggled turning on the timer and ran to a spot. Flash. 

The hard metal blared throughout the crowd's ears, golden spotlight shadowed over the tall man. He lifted his black gloves in the air, a hard stare laid across his face. "Jake 'Shatterproof' Hammer, everyone. A man who holds the record of twenty-eight straight wins and no loses." Fred told, watching the man jog up the steps to enter the ring. "That's incredible for a guy his age, only twenty-one and already at the top of the list? Just wow." Jerry shook his head in disbielf as he looked down at the card. "Flex. Flex. Flex." The crowd cheered. "The fans are ready to see Alex, aren't they?" "I think see him coming out, Fred." "How about that? Alex is coming out with his whole crew, what a special moment for the family." Alex smiled at his mother who held him close, "I love you, Alex." "I know." he kissed her temple. "You fight with your heart." CeCe told, holding onto his right arm, Alex looked at her with every emotion, like she was the world in front of him and he wanted it-no, he needed it. "What?" She furrowed her brows as he continued to stare, "I..I." he jumped when Eddie slapped his shoulder. "Let's go." Monica and CeCe untangled their arms from him and walked to their seats. "Alex." Brady spoke up behind him, "Yeah?" the hot light took it's place on the brother's as they stood in front of each other. "I want to tell you somethin' that helps me. I'm passing it over to you, okay? Remain calm in every situation because peace equals power, you understand? Because at the end of the day, he's just a man. He will fail. You will make sure of that. As your brother, I will always be there. I'm right here. Now, put this motherfucker to the ground where he belongs."

Eddie, Johnny and Andy stood behind Alex in the ring, watching closely as Jake eyed the four men, humor was written all over his face. Alex felt a new presence enter the ring, the microphone rung in his ears before he spoke. "Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you for attending tonight's fight, I'm your announcer, Ralph Fletcher. On my left, weighing at two hundred twenty pounds, he's an ultimate medium weight championship in the world, Jake 'Shatterproof' Hammer!" Alex snickered as the crowd roared for the opponents who jumped for the attention. "One my right, weighing at one hundred forty pounds, coming back for a rematch, Alex 'Daredevil' Flex!" "Go Alex!" "You got this, babe!" "Let's go, A!" "Kick his ass, Alex!" Alex focused on the encouraging words from his family, he smiled as Eddie raised his arm up. "Let's get ready to rumble!" "Alright, men, welcome back. You know the rules, no low blows or rabbit punches, we need a clean fight. You ready?" "Always." Jake instantly replied. "You ready?" "Yeah." Alex nodded slowly. "Touch gloves and get in your corner's." The referee ordered, Jake's stare never left the smaller man as they both walked backwards to their spots. "You remember all your training? Take is easy, no rush, alright? We have fifteen rounds, you got plenty of time to take him down. Use it wisely." Sweat blared off his body as the spotlight made his body hot, Alex nodded to his manager before hearing that familiar sound. Ding, Ding. "Fight." Alex could feel the rumbling of Jake's feet that bounced continuously just a few feet away from him, Alex squared up as he walked forward. "You ready for another beating?" Jake mocked, tapping his gloves together. "Obviously you didn't finished the job." Alex jabbed back, "Ha, you got a mouth on you boy." "Come shut it, champ." Jake grunted under his breath and darted to him, raising his glove. Alex ducked and landed a hit on his ribs, hearing the audience's reaction and Jake's low groan. Alex's feet slide across the smooth surface, Jake's feet slapped against it, anger was behind it as he walked in circles with him. "Stop running and start hitting, Hammer!" Jake's manager yelled, Jake got closer, costing Alex to become distracted and earn a hit on the eyelid. Alex hissed at the pain, he jabbed his right arm in the air, but Jake was too quick and punched the no longer existing bruise on his rib. "Agh." Alex yelled out, shutting his eyes tightly as he belched over. Ding, Ding. "Open." Johnny ordered, pouring water in his mouth as Andy got to work on the bleeding cut. "You know what you did wrong, son?" Alex nodded, grunting his teeth together. "Don't focus on anything else, but his voice you're excellent at that. Listen to the sound of his feet, follow where he leads." "Round two." Jake stood up in a quick motion, running over to Alex and hitting him in the nose, "You should've stayed home." he whispered. Alex roughly pushed his shoulders, blood dripping down his lips. "Fuck this, shit." Alex snarled, his feet slapped against the ring as he took off running, Jake quickly dodged and Alex stopped in his tracks and got a hold of his arm. Alex wrapped his legs around his waist as he tackled him to the ground. "You fuckin' bitch!" Jake's shoulder was pulsing when he landed on it, he pounded on the ring and elbowed Alex's face, causing him to fall back. "Get up, get up!" Eddie roared, Alex spit the blood out of mouth, feeling Jake hovering him. "It's over, Fle-Agh!" Jake yelled out, grabbing a hold of his knee, "No, it's just beginning." Alex jabbed a hard hit onto his cheekbone. A frustrated grunt escaped Jake's throat as the bell rung. "Great work." Eddie rubbed his head. "That's the first time I've seen him hurt." Andy told, watching Jake's crew tend to his body. "You got him where you need him to be." Eddie nodded. Ding, Ding. Alex tapped his red gloves, cracking his neck before walking in the middle. He relaxed his body, closing his eyes and listened to the sounds, but it never came. Alex furrowed his brows, arms dangling on his side as the confusion grew. Jake's eyes watched his own feet, sliding ever so soundlessly, he looked up seeing Alex's back. A gasp left his throat, black material touching the tender spot he just hit, knees made an echoed sound as they fell. No sort of emotion could be let out, the sudden pain was far too loud. "Oh, my god!" CeCe covered her mouth, watching as Jake was on top of him, beating him continuously. "Stop!" Monica stood with the rest, the referee held Jake back as Alex layed there. Blood covered his face, black and purple taking over his left eye. Eddie, Johnny and Andy sat him down in the corner, "Alex.. he's onto us. He knows now." Eddie sighed, looking up at him. The cold water and the color red mashed together as the sponge was being dabbed gently on his wounds. "I-It's alright, I can take him." Alex struggled to get out, his sweat and blood covered chest rising with each breath. Johnny gave his father a look, a look with many words not spoken out loud. "Round four." Alex pushed his best friend and manager out of his way, Jake looked at the crowd in the front row. Jake's stare burned a hole into CeCe's, he flashed a evil smirk before looking away. "That's your bitch out there?" Alex's lips scrunched up in anger, Jake chuckled. "Thank god, you're blind." Alex made a left hook against his jaw, Silvia and sweat leaving Jake's body. A pop filled Alex's ears as Jake adjusted the sore bone. "Hit me." Alex was taken back at his sudden words, "Hit me!" Jake screamed. Gloves bouncing back as he continued to do so, Jake stumbled backwards and into the corner. Alex sighed in exhaustion, his hits were no longer painful to the tall man. Jake widen his shoulders, black gloves hovered over his face, dark eyes casting over him. "You did this to yourself." Punch. "You're nothing." Jab. "You're just a burden." Grunt. "You don't even deserve to be here." Hit. "Go back where you belong." The stadium stood still, no noise could be heard, not even a whisper. Thud. "Alex!" "One." "Get up!" "Two." "Stop the fight!" "Three." "Come on, A!" "Four." "Stand up!" "Five." Alex blinked, the air in his lungs strained for a breath of air. The world, his mind, the pain in his body, twirled around in circles. Alex cluched onto nothing, nothing was in reach, but hope. "Six." "Please!" "Seven." "No!" "Eight." He stood. "Fucking hell." Ding, Ding. "Alex.. son.. you can't continue on." Eddie sighed, Alex's one orb looked down at his. "Come on, let's forget about this. Let's go home." Alex's mouth was parted as he never looked away from the older man. "I am home." "Round five." Tears were split on the black flooring underneath the family who watched, watched the unrecognized man they knew. His glove couldn't stand up for even a second before it was interrupted by the black one, blood coated the boxers feet, almost losing their balance. It was a miracle Alex was standing. "Why aren't they stopping the fight?" CeCe asked, Monica looked at her as her mascara was streaking. "I-I don't know, honey, Maybe.. he's too scared to stop it, scared of the loose of hope. Or, maybe... he doesn't want it to be stopped because he's used to numbness." CeCe let out a shaky sigh as her eyes were begging. "Why?" "Because he feels something when he's in the ring, it's not pain, it's not anger. It's to keep the depression at bay." Ding, Ding. CeCe stood up, the heels of her shoes clicking away as she walked to his corner. She could hear Alex's abnormal breathing, his left side of his face looked like a balloon, and was about to burst. "Alex!... Alex!... Alex!" The four men looked down at her direction, "What are you doing?" she let out. "I don't know, it's something I have to do." Alex shook his head, "No you don't." her voice was harsh, but begging. Johnny stepped down, and guided her away from the scene. "Please, Johnny you can't let him do this." He sighed, shaking his head. "CeCe, I would love for him to stop, I'd give anything for it to stop. But, sometimes people do things for themselves, maybe not in a selfish way. Alex is in his own world right now and not even Jake is going to stop him." The two turned their heads as the bell went off. CeCe hung her head, "Just be there for him, be understanding." he told before running back. "Round six." Alex stood to his feet, a waterfall of sweat and blood shedding away from his bruised body. Jake bounced on his toes, his brown hair drenched as it was slicked back against his skull. "Surprised you've lasted this long." Alex felt his hot breath on his face, "I guess you haven't given it your all, I suppose." Jake flared his nostrils and swung his arm. Alex ducked, and pushed his gloves onto his chest, and jabbed a hard hit into his ribs, cracking them. A gasp left Jake's throat, he touched the tender spot before at Alex. "I'm gonna kill you!" With full force, he drew a hit at his temple, Alex held up his gloves to the sides of his face as Jake attempted to cause him more pain. A loud whistle blew, piercing both of their ears. "Let me have him! Fuck off!" Jake yelled, being pulled away by the Referee. "I'm alright." Alex told, already answering Eddie's question. "Your face, its worse." Johnny gave his father a worried look, "Well how bad is it?" Alex sighed. "I wouldn't go on." "Fuck that. I'm fine, I don't care what happens." He stood in anger, "Well I do! I don't want you to fucking die in this fucking ring, Alex." Eddie shouted in his face. "That's for me to decide, not you. Not anyone." Alex looked in front of him, the feeling in his body was indescribable. It wasn't pain, it wasn't pulsing him into the ground, it was simply something he never felt before. Eddie's watery eyes looked the young boy he'd come to love and care for, he was another son he wanted for his boys. Eddie wished he just wasn't so damn hardheaded, he was afraid it was going to cost him his life, no control of what was coming next. "I have nothing to lose." Ding, Ding. "Alex? Alex!" Alex turned to face Eddie one last time, he smiles. "Tell CeCe, I love her." "Alex... Alex, what are you doing?" Soulless eyes stared deep into Alex, no pain was written anywhere, no emotion could be read. The world went silent, everything went slow motion, and time simply didn't exist. Alex stood his ground, gloves steady as he waited for his prey. And no weapon, for his protection. Alex was ready. He longed for this moment for a long time and now, it's here. It wasn't about being right or wrong. It wasn't about proving anybody, not his family or his small group of friends, nor the media. Blood dripped down his lips as he walked to stand in front of Alex, he wasn't in pain anymore, it had came and gone. Punch, right in the cheekbone, by Jake's giant hand. A hard hit into Alex's chest, any air in his lungs escaped right then and there. You could hear the slaps against the glove on his swollen face. Blood, sweat, tears, and spit was just substance to the men. Alex's chin went straight up, not caring if it was broken or not. His back touched the rope, Jake had hit him so much he didn't know he had been walking backwards. The light shined down on his barely opened right eye, blood was begining to fill the white parts. Jake watched as Alex lower his head and he looked right at him, he could've sworn that he saw him. Alex laughed, the color red coated his teeth. Jake's eyebrows furrowed. Alex tilted his head back, with all his might, forehead to forehead. Punch. Jab. Hit. Kick. Punch. Jab. Hit. Kick. Punch. Jab. Hit. Kick. Thud. It was about beating his mind.                                                     The crowd stood to their feet, mouth gaped open at the first ever beat down that wasn't caused by Jake. But Alex. "One." "Two." "Three." "Four." "Five." Alex swayed, his body trying to repair it's self. He watched as Jake laid on the hard, wet floor. His face finally read something. Pain. Blind or not. He knew. "Six." "Seven." "Eight." "Nine. Alex's knees hit the ring, belching over, the soft material of the gloves felt like a cloud. Tears fell down his purple face. "Ten." He did it.

The warm lighting above the kitchen table glistened onto the dark wood. Laughter filled the air, as food was being passed around. The dining room sat everyone together for dinner. "Alright, folks let's say grace." Richard started, nodding and grabbing his wife's hand. Fingers were beginning to intertwine with one another. "Dear, heavenly Father. We gather here to day for the celebration of our son, Alex. Thank you for providing this lovely food prepared by my amazing, beautiful family you blessed me with. We also want to thank you for, keeping my son safe during his career he has chosen. Please continue to heal him as he is still recovering. Thank you and Amen." "Amen." Silverware hit the plates as they began to eat, "I think that plastic surgery really helped him." CeCe said, looking over to her right. Alex smiles at her as he chewed. Distant shades of purple and yellow decorated his cheeks, knuckles cracking every time he flexed. "I think it did too." Monica agreed, "How does that make you feel that your boyfriend got plastic surgery before you did?" Johnny chuckles, sticking a fork in his mouth. They laughed. "Very funny." Alex shook his head, "She's too beautiful and I needed work done." CeCe gasps, "No you didn't. I think you're very handsome." "Thanks, babe." Alex licked his lips before giving her peck on the cheek. "I think I'm gonna yak." Andy jokingly says, "Boy, have some manners." Eddie warned, scuffing. Alex laughs, his smile was permanent. He was indeed happy. This was the moment he lived for, his parents, brother, friends and his world right beside him. Alex was living for his future, his past had dissapeard like a faded memory. He wasn't worried. He knew everything he needed and it was right here. In this room, the people he loved the most. "Honey, can you grab me that plate?" Monica reached for the empty plates scattered around the dinner table, "I'll help you." CeCe smiles. "Thank you, sweetheart." Monica touched her shoulder. "Fellas, let me show you around." Richard stood, motioning to Eddie and his boys. "Brady." Alex asked out loud, "Yeah?" he looked up from Joey. "Come here." Pictures hung perfectly in the brightly lit hallway, the two figures admired the old memories forever inbeded in their minds and hearts. A flat palm layed against the white door, pink knuckles on full display. Alex smiles and chuckles. "Remember when we carved out named into this door?" Brady looks down, seeing his name and his brother's messily carved into the door. "Mom and dad were so mad at us that day, I thought we were doomed and forever grounded." Brady breathed out. "They told us they were gonna replace it... and they never did." Alex shook his head, "I think they secretly love it." Brady laughs. Alex's hand dig into his jeans and they began to walk pass Brady's old room. The familiar hum from the light from the bathroom light filled Alex's ears, it felt more warm than ever before, not so dark. "Mind doing something for me?" Alex asks, opening the drawer and grabbing the razor. "Yeah, sure." Brady nodded, taking the wire in his hands and plugging it up. Alex lifted the shirt off his body, little specks of purple and yellow laid across his skin. Alex rested his hands onto the counter, and lowered his head. You see, from the start his light became darkness. His family was his light and it was swept away by this horrible disease. It had taken over his mind throughout his teenage years to early adulthood, dealing and struggling with the fact his couldn't see what he loved and cared for. When he found what he could do, everything turned. It was like he could see what he never could with the use of his hands. The feeling of hitting something, letting go of his thoughts for a moment. Control was a dangerous, but beautiful tool to have, the need to do it for yourself, and your world. Depression was his enemy, and he needed to control it by defeating it himself. Darkness was his depression. So, fighting was his release, not his frustrations, not stress or a distraction from what he could never have back. Beating the darkness that had taken over. And now, he could see the light, darkness was nonexistence because he defeated... Himself.  

Blonde hair slowly fell onto the floor by their feet, Brady guided the razor against his skull gently. Alex felt his head getting lighter, he blinked and lifted his head back up. "Oops." Brady gasps, Alex flinched at his words. "What? What'd you do Brady?" "Uhh.." Brady trails off, "Brady..." Alex huffs out. "I'm just fuckin' with you man. I didn't mess it up." Brady bursts out in laughter, a hand landed onto Brady's demin jacket. "Ouch." "Don't ever do that again." Alex pointed at him before dipping his head back down. Brady got back to work with cutting his hair. Silence filled the air for fifteen seconds before laughter replaced it. "You should've seen your face!" "Fuck you, Brady." Alex shakes his head. "Love you too, A." "Love you, B."

          The Flex Brother's

[lockhart-junior]

presstocontinuestory‌:

Jack and Olivia rarely cook for and with each other, but the rare times that they do has always been one of the most fun they always had together. The most common was always breakfast, one that the girl has kind of mastered by now. Sometimes she still burns a pancake or two, but it’s never as bad as when she first started out. She loved serving the other, making him smile and happy. He always seems to appreciate what she makes for him, even if it doesn’t taste too good. Danny would spit it out and eat something else, question Jack about it and his taste. She just appreciates that he tries to like it at least, defend her horrible cooking.

As the fish thawed and the two continued on making their own dishes, the girl smiled when the other approved of her idea making some brownies that weekend. One of their more successful dishes was that last batch of brownies with marshmallow, it was fun to make it too “Oh yes, I love those!” she said, giggling as she then quickly turned to the other when he mentioned he’d like to go camping sometime. The girl had always wanted to do that, it made her gasp and jump for joy “Yes! Yes!” she’s sometimes like an animated cartoon with the way she reacts to things she’s excited with “I’d love that, yes!” she then said, grinning this time. She was fairly free this week, so far there was no text or call from BRAVO yet about her contract. Her current one was about to end, she just wanted to discuss terms with the new agency and see if she is indeed interested in moving. Either way, she’s leaving her current agency. She’ll either have no agency this coming month, or have a completely new and better one. She didn’t mind what would happen. Looking back at their trips out, mainly their hiking trips “There’s a place just north from here that my parents go to.” she told him, smiling “a little hike and then a nice spot to set camp. It’s totally camping safe too.” she now added, nodding at that “When do you want to go? I’m so excited for smores!” the girl then grinned and moved onto circling the cookies. Sometimes she’d make a square just because, so it turns into a square with round corners when it gets baked.

Her enthusiastic reaction pleasantly surprised him and he instantly wondered why he hadn’t asked her sooner. There was something truly adorable about the way she jumped when she heard his idea, like a kid in a candy store. He hadn’t really thought about which place to go yet, until she asked him about it. He was about to tell her he’d look for some camping sites online when she told him about the camping spot her parents usually went to. He’d never heard of it - his own father didn’t really like to camp, he was more one to stay in hotels than tents when he went on a trip but apparently there had been a site not very far from here all this time. “That sounds perfect”, he nodded, all the while turning off the stove and filling two plates with their dinner. “I have a few campfire stories too”, he smiled, most of them were ones that Danny told him back at summer camp when they were little, but he was pretty sure there were a few Olivia hadn’t heard yet. Besides, Jack liked the thought of freaking Olivia out with a scary story and then having her seek refuge in his embrace, just like she did when they occasionally watched a horror film. “We can go this weekend? We’ll make the brownies first and take them with us”, he suggested, already looking forward to eating fresh brownies and smores by the fire. He wasn’t even the most outdoorsy person but camping was something he always wanted to do with Olivia. After pouring them both a glass of water, he loaded their plates onto a tray and brought it back to the living room with him so they could eat in front of the TV. They did just that, finishing another two movies before the evening fell and Jack fell asleep with her on the couch. For those few hours, it felt just like everything was back to normal.  During the rest of the week, neither Todd nor Sophie’s name came up again, even though Jack did eventually send Sophie another text asking if she was okay. Apparently she was, although she confessed to him that she felt a bit embarrassed and didn’t know what to tell him after their last exchange. This provoked a feeling of guilt in him, since it hadn’t been his intention to make her feel awkward. On the contrary, that was what he’d been trying his hardest to avoid. It ate away at him a little bit, building and building until he finally told Sophie that they could meet up again sometime if she wanted to. He left it rather open ended and casual, although you wouldn’t know it by the texts she sent him in response. She seemed thrilled, before he knew it she was already suggesting more places for them to go and he was wondering if he’d painted himself into some kind of corner. For now though, he decided to let it be and focus on the upcoming weekend instead, packing his clothes, his sleeping bad and whatever else they would need into a large backpack. When the weekend rolled around, he showed up at Olivia’s house carrying the thing on his back. After they prepared the brownies like they planned - and after Olivia insisted he ditch his solo sleeping bag in favor of the shared one she’d brought - they took a bus to the camping site. It was just a little ways ahead of the bus stop, a 15 minute hike through the forest. They weren’t even that deep into the woods but it did feel that way when they were surrounded by trees and all the sound of their town was completely gone. No cars or trams, not even any bikes. Only the sound of birds chirping and the distant noise of water in the background, rustling leaves and the sound of small twigs cracking underneath their own footsteps. When they reached the camp site, Jack was finally able to put down his backpack and let out a long sigh, dropping himself in the grass to rest for a moment. 

“Pfff...” They still needed to set up the tent, luckily there was a pretty clear instruction manual. He looked up at Olivia for a moment and wondered where she got all her energy from. She didn’t seem all that bothered having to carry a heavy backpack, or at least one that looked heavy to him. “It’s beautiful here”, he commented as he sat up and looked around the small clearing. “Hey, do you know if there’s any bushes around here? Maybe we could find some berries to pick.” 

[loudsuitlover]

The girl, the miss, the mrs

It wasn’t very often that uncle Harry came to visit and that was why every time he did, it was a special ocasion for the Weatherfords, specially for Gemma since her little brother seemed to be farther and farther away each passing year. His niece, Laura, used to have a little, girly crush on him when she was little, despite him being her uncle but the fact that he could only visit once every two months or so made it special enough for her to wait impatiently for her second favourite man- after her daddy- to come visit but now Laura was 15 and he was 35 and sometimes Harry really felt as if she wouldn’t trust him the password for somebody else’s phone. And then there was George, Gemma’s and Asher’s little boy, who was now 7 years old and thought Harry was some random guy with a grandpa hat that came home every once in a while. 

This time around, the family of four was having a little snack while deciding on which movie to watch, as father and daughter pretended not to be mad at each other ever since Asher had completely embarrassed her in front of her friends when he had asked Eric Shepelld to keep his hands off of his little girl. And surely, Asher was the one Laura blamed when Eric had ditched her for Savannah Meyers who was, according to her, so much prettier and cooler than her but mostly had a cooler dad. Gemma had her arm around her shoulders as her not-so-little girl cuddled up to her mum. 

“Where’s uncle Harry, mum?”

“He’s upstairs. He’s still struggling with jetlag, you know.” 

“I hope he wakes up soon so he can tell us stories about Japan then.” She sighed. “That way I can stop thinking about the other men in the world. They’re all... donuts.” She helped herself as her eyes set on his little brother who was carefully reading his new book about dinosaurs right under the lamp. 

“You are gorgeous, Laura.” Asher sighed, resting his weight on his elbows over his knees. “And I’m not saying that because I’m your father.” 

She just glared at him, her jaw clenched and her lips pursed on a thin line. Gemma gave him an encouraging smile as if saying go on, baby and in those moments Harry was jealous of what they had. He could wait for another minute before he walked inside the living room, giving them time enough for father and daughter to make peace. 

“And... I’m sorry that I said that. It’s just hard for me to understand my little girl is not so little anymore...” He smiled when he noticed the corners of her lips were turning into a little smirk. “It doesn’t feel like that long when you would hide under my desk in the office and giggled when I pretended I didn’t know you were there.” 

“I reckon I wouldn’t even fit in there now, dad.” She smiled. 

“I know, baby, but still...” 

She giggled then like she used to and changed seats so she could hug her dad instead and he gave her a kiss on her head. 

“Anyway you did her a favour.” Gemma said. “That Eric guy is a... donut” she winked at her. 

She ended up giggling and pushing her father away while he complaint about how she would only cuddle mum and never him and then when Gemma said aawww, she begged them not to get all ew with them. Uncle Harry then took that as his cue to save his niece as he walked inside the living room. 

“Oh, hi there, Sleeping Beauty.” Gemma chirped. 

“Only without the Beauty.” Her husband joked making Harry chuckle and doing the gesture with his hand, almost as if he was going to flip the bird, but not flipping any. Asher laughed. 

“You want a cuppa or chocolate?” 

“Tea, please.” 

“Uncle, have a biscuit.” George encouraged him, pushing his little glasses against his eyes, surely getting the glass all dirty. “Mum and I baked them in the morning!” 

“Mmm, sure, homemade biscuits. Thank you, George and thank you, Gem. Mum’s recipe?” 

“Always.” She smiled. 

He then took a seat on the lonely armchair and for a second there, looking at his sister and her family, he couldn’t help but think he was indeed lonely. He must truly be a lonely man then for it wasn’t that he hadn’t have a chance to have a family- or at least a lover- of his own but he must be a lonely man because he had always pushed the thought- and the possibilities- away. 

After about three hours of story telling and random questions from his sister and his brother in law and his niece complaining about that Eric Shepelld, they have had dinner and they have even discussed whether next Christmas was going to be at Gemma’s or at Anne’s. George had been allowed to stay up past bed time because the next day was a sunday anyway and it had been so long since he had even seen uncle Harry! 

“Oh Harry Edward!” Gemma joked making her brother raised his eyebrows and looked at her as his little nephew made himself comfortable on his lap. “You won’t believe what Asher found last time we went to mum’s.” She grinned, sitting down on the carpet as she opened one of the boxes they kept on the lowest part of their telly cupboard. “She had some trouble with the pipes and Asher was trying to help when he found the vhs tapes! You remember?” She grinned. 

“No way!” He grinned. “Like the ones from our childhood?” 

“Yes! There was even that movie you loved so much... How-”

“Rupert and the Timeless Town?” 

Asher laughed out loud but Harry didn’t even bother looking at him as Gemma narrowed her eyes and nodded. 

“Exactly Rupert and the Timeless Town.” 

“Oh, what a nice movie! How long was it? Like 45 minutes? And it felt like 2 hours to me!” He laughed. 

“Yeah, mum used to put that on when you wouldn’t stop climbing the kitchen furniture, remember?” 

He nodded while his niece laughed at him, shaking her head and asking her mum to put one of the two of them when they were little. She ended up putting Harry’s four years old birthday because she wanted to prove a point that even being four years younger than her he was still mean because that year he had wanted to throw a boys only party so that meant she was the only girl in the party and she was there because Anne had forced Harry to invite his sister too. 

“Oh my God!” Laura yelped laughing histerically at her uncle. “Why did you have that helmet of hair on?” 

“Hey!” He complaint. 

“Wait, seriously, did you have straight hair? What happened there?” She laughed. 

“Listen, Nana thought that hairstyle looked good on me, yeah?” 

The all went silent when on the screen, a tiny Harry with tiny legs and tiny arms tried to stop Gemma from coming inside the living room where the party was saying “no Gemma this is boys only space”, he frowned, “or are you a boy?” and then they all laughed when he gave her his signature devilish smirk which apparently he had since he was just a boy. 

“See? There he was being mean even though I was like double his size! Why did you want to throw a boys only party anyway? You loved girls!” Gemma laughed.

“Well not when I was 4 it seems!” He laughed. 

“Probably he was just fed up from girls because of you, GemGem.” Asher joked, securing his arm around his wife’s shoulders as she tried to push him away. 

The siblings looked at each other with a sad smile when their own Nana appeared on the tape, that old wise woman both had loved so much who was no longer with them and then they felt they heart beating stronger when they spotted their dad. Their parents were still together back then and even though Harry couldn’t really remember a time when they had been together, unlike Gemma, it was still nice to see it. Laura had been checking the DVDs, reading what her mum had carefully written on black sharpie, just copying what her own mother had written on the original VHS. And she kept seeing the same name over and over next to the one of her uncle. Y/N’s 7th birthday. Y/N and Harry’s prom. Y/N and Harry’s play. Y/N’s 16th birthday. 

It was weird that she felt as if she shouldn’t ask about her but she was damn curious for uncle Harry and her seemed to be pretty close and she barely remembered her uncle with a girl, even before she went to LA on her dancing scolarship when she was just 12 years old. There was a whole envelope with Harry’s name on it and inside lots of DVDs. Summer 2016. Jamaica 2017. Moving in. Y/N’s graduation. Japan 2019. Mitch and Sarah’s wedding. I love you. 

She was sure, even if she shouldn’t really ask about her directly, if they had filmed Y/N’s 7th birthday, she must have been around for Harry’s, so she search for it but didn’t have much luck. And then she found Harry’s 15th birthday and she just got up from the couch and went to change the DVD. Her uncle smiled at her amused as she grinned mischeviously. 

“We’re gonna see uncle Harry when he was my age.” She smiled. 

“15 years old Harry was one of my favourite Harrys.” Gemma grinned. “You remember how low you used to wear your pants?” She laughed. “And how mum always begged you to please put them nice and high on your waist?” She laughed. 

“Oh, shut up, and let me remind you that was your time with bangs. Man I hope you’re in the video too.” 

“I’m not.” She laughed. “I’m the one filming.” 

And true to her word, her voice could be heard as she filmed Anne finishing up the last details to Harry’s cake on the kitchen. Robin had been taking bowl after bowl of crisps and nachos and olives to the garden and soft voices were heard on the background. 

“Tell your brother to come downstairs, sweetheart.” Anne told her daughter. “Everyone’s already here.”

“Everyone except Y/N.” She said, and her daugher took a chance to steal a glance at her uncle who had cleared his throat and straightened his back as if he was nervous Y/N would appear. “Which is why he hasn’t come upstairs yet.” 

Anne just smiled. 

“Just tell him to come downstairs and please, honey, don’t mess with them.” 

“Oh, I won’t mum. I’m a uni girl, remember? I won’t play silly, teenage games now.” She promised, making her mum laugh and shake her head. “Edward!” She called, filming the empty stairs. “Your girlfriend just arrived!” She lied. 

Whitin two seconds, her little brother was at the top of the stairs, her short but already curly hair almost covering his eyes. And his pants, just like she had mentioned before, very low on his hips, almost leaving his bun exposed. He walked down the stairs rolling his eyes before he narrowed them to his sister.

“Y/N’s not my girlfriend.” He said. “And she’s not even here yet.” 

“But you wished she’d be.” 

“We’re just friends.” He shook his head. “Grow up Gemma.” 

Just a bit of annoying jokes on her part later, the bell rang and Harry almost rushed to open the door. There she seemed to be, Laura thought, that Y/N girl was standing there and her 15 years old uncle looked like his little brother George on Christmas Eve. He was in love with her. It only took her a moment to realize that and then she really took a long look at you, or at the 14 years old version, with very long hair and royal blue converse and a dress. You smiled at the camera. 

“Hi, Gem.” You said. “Happy birthday, Haz.” 

“Happy birthday.” He smiled. “I mean thank you.” 

39 years old Gemma laughed just as hard as 19 years old Gemma had laughed back then and it was heartbreaking for her to think that had been 20 years ago. 

“Who’s that?” Laura dared to ask then. 

“That’s... That’s Harry’s...” Gemma stopped there, licking her lips as if that was going to help her come up with the way to describe you. 

“Girl.” Harry smiled. “That’s my girl.” 

“What?” Laura yelped. “My uncle Harry has a girl! Tell me about her.”

“Well, I had a girl.” He smiled. “She’s.... Actually I don’t know where she is now.” 

“You don’t know where she is?” 

The video kept playing on the background as Gemma asked her daughter to be more discreet about love topics and really the only person who was still paying attention to the tape was Harry who kept thinking she had always been the most beautiful woman on Earth. The last thing he had heard about her was that she had gotten engaged but that was right before he had gone to Japan and he remembered he had gotten so drunk when Niall had told him because damn, because that was Y/N we were talking about, his Y/N, the girl he had been in love with even before he knew what love was and now she was engaged to someone else and he hadn’t even seen her in a year. He had called her though and he had just said Hey love, I hope you’re happy and congratulations on your engagement. You really do deserve the world. And then he had gone to Japan and he hadn’t known anything new from her. She might even be married by then. 

And after a couple more videos of Gemma as a little girl, Harry had taken little George to bed and then they all had gone to bed themselves. But his niece, she had been up until late on her room, waiting for her dad’s snoring as an indication that she could go out then and then she had tiptoed downstairs and she had grabbed a forest fruit yogurt and had carefully closed the living room door and then she had had a look at her uncle’s personal tapes, even though she knew she shouldn’t; but she was too curious to know why someone as successful as her uncle- he was a rockstart for crying out loud- was always so lonely and she thought, since she had spent three whole years away and her mum had asked her to be more discreet, than maybe the best way to learn about her was to watch the tapes. She wasn’t going to tell him, anyway, she wasn’t going to tell anyone. It was for her eyes only, so she curled herself on the couch and sat back as the LA roadside took one hundred memories back to her mind. She had been there herself. 

But then her uncle, very young, and very handsome might she had, was driving and grinning like she had never seen him grin with one hand on his cheek bone, his elbow resting on the window, and the other on the wheel. He must have been 21, maybe 22 years old, because she remember him like that when she was younger. 

“So” The voice of a girl asked her uncle from behind he camera “where are you taking me, Haz?” 

“Now that would be telling, wouldn’t it?” He grinned. 

“Oh, you’re so boring for the camera!” She pretended to exasperate before she turned the camera to herself so it was filming her. “Hello kids!” She grinned and Harry laughed on the background. 

“Kids?” 

“Yeah! We can show this to our kids when we have them.” 

She was filming herself but then she was staring right at Harry so the camera was only getting her profile. 

“Keep your eyes on the road.” She smiled. 

“I love you.” 

Laura froze in place. Not because she didn’t already know her uncle loved that girl. He had said it, that she was his girl but she had just never heard her uncle say that to anyone and even though we all know everybody loves somebody, for some reason it always surprise us to hear them say it for the first time. I love you. And she smiled. 

You talked to the camera then and explained how those were your first vacations alone after two years of dating and Laura raised her eyebrows as she watched you laughing because Harry had said it would have been longer if you hadn’t systematically rejected me four years straight and you swatted his shoulder and I’m driving, love, careful. 

Laura thought she truly had never seen a girl prettier than Y/N, not even Savannah Meyers, or her own mother when she was young- even though her mother was just as pretty- but she swore she had never seen a prettier smile. And then she kept falling more and more in love with the two of them together because truly it was better than any romcom she had ever seen for they were just laughing and filming each other as if they were the most precious things to film in the world and stealing kisses and visiting small beaches and having mango smoothies on the street. She had counted how many times her uncle had said he loved her- 32 and she had felt her heart beating so fast and so strong as if that girl could ever be her at all. 

And then she watched her graduation and how Harry had filmed every single expression, always zooming on her when there was a crowd and how he had edited the whole video about her, as if she was the most important, or rather the only important person, in a graduation of three hundred people. So Y/N was an artist too- or at least she had graduated as that. “Okay, you guys want a photo like a married couple?” Y/N’s classmate who had been on the video along with her asked and “get in here, love”. And then she smiled endearingly as she watched her uncle, who must have been 24 then, rolling his eyes with the biggest grin ever as you asked him questions. 

“So hello, Mr Styles.” She asked and giggled. “How does it feel to be the boyfriend of a Liberal Arts graduated?”

“It feels pretty good, yeah.” He smiled. “Specially when she looks the way she looks.” 

“How does she look?” Laura could hear the smile on her voice even though she didn’t know that girl. 

“She looks like a dream. You know, Miss Stranger” he grinned “sometimes I look at her and think how is she even real?” 

“Mmmhmm.” The girl said, urging him to go on. “Are you proud?” 

“Very, very proud.” He grinned. “She used to paint in my room when we were just kids and even when she painted just rag dolls and suns with smiley faces I knew she would be an artist.” She hit him playfully and he held her hand to his chest. “I know she could get anything she wanted. She’s an angel. And... Now that she’s done with uni... I wonder where she’s gonna live... I mean.... Do you think she will still live on a student’s apartment? She’s no longer a student...” He grinned after looking at her and Laura could only imagine the way she was looking at him. “Baby, do you wanna move in with me?” 

And then the imagine was gone and and a very bright, very blue sky was being filmed as the sound of the image consisted on kisses and low declarations of love and yes, yes, I love you. 

Harry woke up at 2:15 am and damned the jetlag as he rubbed his eyes. It had taken him pretty long to fall asleep anyway, what with the thought of you creeping into his mind every time he let his guard down. He hated that it was still so painful to think about you and he hated that he didn’t know if you were, at this very moment, also up, if there was something keeping you up at night, or rather- he didn’t even want to think about it but it was possible anyway- or maybe even a kid. For you were 34 years old and your birthday was just a couple months away and for some reason he thought he would still love that child because it was yours and he loved everything that had to do with you. He looked to the side of the bed, his green eyes set on the wall, he really needed to stop thinking about you as if you were the only woman on Earth because the truth was, you weren’t his, and you weren’t his because he had let you go so if he had done that before, he shouldn’t be feeling like this now. He thought a cup of tea would do, or surely it wouldn’t but at least he would stop torturing himself with the thought that maybe you were also awake somewhere else, wondering what had been of him, or maybe making love to someone else. 

He didn’t expect to see the TV on, and much less did he expect to see his niece kneeling down in front of the TV about to put another DVD on. Her hazel eyes bore into his, wide opened, knowing she had been cut like a deer in white lighst and then she bit her bottom lip and ask him for forgiveness. 

“You couldn’t sleep?” He asked instead and she shook her head. “Yeah, broken hearts are certainly not known for being heavy sleepers... I was about to make myself a cup of tea, you want one?” 

She nodded and then he walked to the kitchen and she picked everything up and left the living room as if nobody had been there before. She founder her uncle on the kitchen, silently making a cup of tea with the door carefully closed. She took a seat on one of the kitchen stools and held her hot cup with both hands so she could get some heat on her system. 

“You’re not mad?” 

“At you?” She nodded. “Why would I be?” 

“’Cause... You know... I’ve been watching your videos... And that was private.” 

“Well why did you watch them?” 

“Because I was curious.” She shrugged. “It’s just... You’ve never brought a girl home or anything.... And I wanted to know why that was.” 

“And that’s not a bad thing, is it?” He shrugged. “I get it. That’s okay.” He smiled. 

“Can I... Can you tell me about her?” She asked, hoping her uncle with feel sorry for how Eric Shepelld had made her stop believe in love and thinking he was such a romantic he would like to change that so she just looked down at the table, trying very hard her face looked like she was going through such a hard time but without looking at him so he would never suspect she was trying to manipulate him if only a little bit. 

“Yeah.” He smiled. “What would you like to know?” 

“How did you meet her?” 

“We had friends in common.” He smiled. “When we were seven.” 

Laura giggled. 

“My best friend at the time, Mark, had a twin sister, Steph, and we always had to hang with her because her mum would force us.” He shrugged. “And then Steph met Y/N at dancing class and they became friends. Ever since then we were inseparable.” He smiled. 

“So she was your best friend?” 

He nodded. 

“She was one of my best friends at the beginning. It was Mark, Steph, Y/N and me and then... As we grew older we grew closer too and I reckon by eighth grade she was my best friend, yeah.” 

“But then you fell in love with her?” She wiggled her eyebrows and Harry chuckled, having a sip of his cup of tea. 

“Well, yeah.” He laughed. “I mean you know throught the years, even though my friendship with her was always a constant, we had time when we were closer and times when she started hanging out with some other people and so did I and stuff but I remember at the end I would always look for her and she would always look for me.” He shrugged. “And then when we were fifteen, her parents got a divorce and her mum moved away so she had to change schools and all that and... By that time we weren’t that close anymore because I was at the football team in school and she was in the art club and well we had different enviroments let’s say but we would still see each other at my house or hers.” He smiled. “Until then she had been like an annoying little sister who I really, really loved but then when she moved away... I just couldn’t get her out of my head. I was fifteen years old and I couldn’t stop thinking about her and then she came back to visit and I swear every time she looked prettier and... Yeah, I guess I fell in love with her.” 

“But she still lived away?” 

“Right.” He nodded. “She moved back with her dad the next year.” 

“And then you told her!” 

He chuckled. 

“No.” He laughed. “I was so afraid she was gonna say no! Plus when she came back she was like the new toy. Everyone wanted to go with her and she would say yes every now and then and at the end she ended up dating Mark.” 

“Your friend Mark?” Her hazel eyes opened wide and Harry just nodded. “And you never asked her out?” Laura smiled. 

It seemed endearing to her, seeing her uncle as if he was back a teenager, talking about high school sweethearts and asking girls out on dates and the kind of things he would never do now so she couldn’t help but feel her heart tightening for him. He shook his head, a little smirk on her lips. 

“It was so obvious that we liked each other.” He laughed. “You know, before I went to the X-Factor, she had broken up with Mark a few months before and everyone thought we were together and I mean we would go on dates, without calling them dates but whatever, they were what they were... And then right before I did the audition she told me.”

“She told you what? Uncle be more specific!” 

He laughed. 

“She told me she loved me.” He smirked, as if wanting to keep that a secret and Laura just nodded, giving him a smile. 

“And then you kissed her.” She reasoned. 

“You see,” he smiled “that’s what I should have done but I was so nervous I just...” 

“You didn’t kiss her?” She exasperated. “You truly were an idiot.” 

“That’s what she said.” He chuckled. “But I didn’t even know how to. I mean, if you’ve seen the tapes, you know what we’re talking about. She looked like she couldn’t possibly be real.” 

“So what happened?” 

“So after the X-Factor ended and the band was formed and we were recording our first album-”

“THAT LONG?” 

He smiled. 

“I told her I was in love with her.” 

“And?”

“And she called me an idiot just like you did before.” 

“Well you were!” She laughed. 

He nodded his head, tidying up the kitchen and feeling like his entire body had been taken up by a thousand butterflies and he just washed his cup before he glanced back at his niece. 

“Wait but in your first holidays together” he smiled, amused that she had been seeing that “she said that it was your first holidays together after two years of dating... But in the X Factor you were how old? 16?” 

He nodded, grinning like a child. 

“We broke up. We were on and off for a couple of years but I was never home and she was... Well she didn’t know if she wanted to be with me or not and... Yeah, but then when we were older... It was just silly to fight it. I kept being drawn to her so, yeah, we got together for good... or so we thought.” Before his niece could ask, he rest his elbows on the kitchen island and gave her a smile as she yawned. “When I was touring my second album she was offered a project where she had to travel all around the world and we didn’t really see each other much. I was very into my music and she was also doing her own thing and then... One day she told me she was going to quit and I encouraged her not to because I knew how important that was for her and about a month later she told me she had fallen in love with the artist that was working with her.” He shrugged. “We broke up and lost all contact.” 

“Do you still love her?” 

“That doesn’t matter now, Lau. I don’t know her anymore.” 

“But-”

“We should go to bed. You, specially.” He raised his eyebrows. 

So the girl did as her uncle had said but as she lied down in bed that night, she was thinking- and if she was only a little older she would know her uncle was thinking the same thing- what if it wasn’t too late? What if she was wrong? What if she never loved somebody else? 

And then she thought she would find her. She knew her name and she knew she was an artist and linked to Harry Styles out of all people. She was so sure she probably wasn’t that hard to find. 

On the room right next to hers, her mother Gemma lighted up the phone. Asher was still snoring next to her. She texted. 

Hope you’re fine. Thinking of you. XXX -Gemma

And then she turned around and bored her eyes into her sleeping husband’s face. She’s Harry’s Asher. 

Her daughter opened Instagram. Y/N.  #artY/N #Y/NandHarryStyles. Harry Styles’s girlfriend... 

“H, it’s just... I think I’m falling in love with someone else.” 

Hi Gem! So good to hear from you. I am fine! Everything alright? How’s Harry? XXX -Y/N. 

Part 2

[windingdrabble]

Sonic has never cared much for movies. Nothing against them or anything--- it’s just that if he’s going to stay still for two hours, he prefers to do it in the comfort of a field of flowers and chirping birds. And if he wants to experience a story, he can read instead, out in said field. Bernie made real sure that habit stuck for life. Even as a kid, he was never too invested. The flowers were still more interesting to him back then. As for Ruby, while Sonic doesn’t know if he was a film fanatic before going blind, he doesn’t suspect him of as much. After all, Ruby was only upset about being unable to read, and never voiced any grievances over not being able to see a TV screen ever again. No harm no foul, it’s look like.

So it’s a little ironic that half of their time spent around the house involves having the TV in the background.

None of them like the quiet, so radio silence isn’t an option. Music is an alternative and what usually fills up the rest of their quiet nights, but more often than not, there’s something on the TV when they're laying on the couch. They talk to eachother more than anything, only tuning in when the film demands it or when something funny interrupts them, at which point Ruby will pretend to narrate what comes next. Like a weird sort of radio drama (his dad liked those, to have them in the background while he worked in the garden), Ruby will add sound effects where he sees fit, and try to guess what’s going on in the scene he can’t quite grasp, both by virtue of being blind and by not paying attention. It’s like a backup sort of thing, in case the conversation peeters out but they still want to say something, still want an excuse to keep it going, and in case there’s some sort of unspoken tension that needs to be broken. It’s there, in the background, if they need it, and easy t ignore if all they need is something to block out the uneasiness of a too-quiet living room. 

Still, Sonic would have appreciated if Ruby hadn’t chosen a telenovela, of all things. He fights what he knows is a losing battle against the executive decision, but Ruby’s smirk tells him he’s very aware of the opposition and was looking for it, because he’s terrible. Terrible or not, and huffy or not, Sonic settled into the couch, and let Ruby lean against his shoulder as he wrapped an arm around him. Not like he was going to pay attention to whatever was going on, anyway. 

Their conversation starts before the recording itself. Luckily for Sonic, it’s been a few weeks since they’ve seen eachother, so their topics are plentiful and way more engrossing than whatever Gabriella and Lucas and their nonsensical love triangle had to say-- and he only knows their names because Ruby interjects with occasional jokes about them. It’s easier to tune out the movie beyond its purpose to fill the empty background noise when Sonic settles into the groove of talking with Ruby in English, and his brain starts to be unable to immediately translate Spanish into anything coherent. As their conversation and the film goes on, more of Ruby’s weight falls on Sonic, who leans back against the arm of the couch, bit by bit. Ruby has to lean down more than Sonic does when leaning against the latter’s shoulder-- it’s easier to just lay back on the couch together than sit up against eachother. It does wonders for refocusing his attention, too. Habitually, his hand finds Ruby’s quills to brush through, and his opposite arm loosely lays across Ruby’s shoulders. Ruby’s head on his chest and how calm his voice is when he fills in Sonic on the cat he got out of a tree is all he cares to pay attention to. Sonic can’t tell if Ruby slowly inching closer to him is an unconscious thing or not, but he doesn’t mind the excuse to move around a little bit to let Ruby lay more comfortably. He doesn’t realize how close they’ve gotten until Ruby’s breath flutters over his neck, and then, all at once, he has to put effort into not letting his quills bristle.

“What are ya’ doing?”

“Hm?” Ruby hums, in a sickeningly sweet ‘oh, I’ve done nothing wrong ever in my whole life’ kind of tone. “Watching a movie. Why do you ask?”

“You know ‘at’s not what I meant,” Sonic huffs, trying to keep his tone from bleeding into being flustered. He can almost feel Ruby’s smirk as she shifts against him, and almost jumps at the feel of his arms snaking around Sonic’s back. 

“Then what did you mean, pray tell?”

“‘Pray tell,’” Sonic parrots, laughing and trying to ignore the fact it comes out nervous and high-pitched. “Y’er kidding me.”

“No, that is your job,” comes the response,, and Sonic can almost spell it all out just by how close Ruby is to his neck. He can feel the letters come together from the feeling of it dancing along his collarbone, can feel the teasing air of it, can almost feel Ruby’s mischief as if it’s his own-- if there was enough space in his chest for it. His heart speeds up in there, swells with the soft puffs of air and doesn’t deflate, just keeps growing because Ruby just keeps inching closer and Sonic wriggles in his grasp.

“You are not doing this while /that/ is playing,” Sonic breathes out as a disbelieving and embarrassed laugh. 

“Would you complain if I was?”

“I did complain about y’er choice in filmography,” Sonic huffs, looking away to save some face, despite the fact his cheeks are burning. “You just don’t--”

Sonic is observant-- he has to be, to cut it in his line of work. His sense are sharp, and his gut is (usually) pretty reliable, but Ruby has a way of worming past all those years of experience, all those defenses. He settles gently against Sonic, his chest fur warm and soft and his laugh right up against Sonic’s neck, and arguments unceremoniously tumble out of Sonic who tries to pretend like this isn’t flustering him, but the moment Ruby presses a kiss to his neck to go with that laugh Sonic is all sunshine and giddyness and putty where he lays.

“I do not what?” Ruby asks inbetween peppering affection.

“Y’ don’t--” he tries, he really does try, but his reply peeters out and melts into a purr despite his attempts to fight it. “‘At’s-- cheatin’, ‘at’s cheatin’--”

The humm reverberates in Ruby’s chest and spreads to Sonic, who feels his quills bush out for a moment while the rest of him sinks further and further into Ruby’s arms and the cushions of the couch. 

“What is? You are going to have to speak up, love, I cannot understand you.”

In typical Sonic fashion, he keeps fighting what looks (and is) like a losing fight, tries to get out an insult or a quip or anything more dignified, but Ruby keeps nuzzling and kissing and laughing against his neck and Sonic can feel his tail wag and his heart grow at the gesture. When a few well placed kisses get him to squeak, Ruby stops, but Sonic is too busy trying to recover to pull away or glare at him (neither of which he earnestly wants to do).

“I did not know you could do that,” Ruby laughs, louder than his usual chuckles, and through the overwhelming fondness and affection Sonic smiles, despite himself, because it’s so unfiltered. Because it’s clear and carefree and he wants to hear Ruby legitimately happy more often-- every day, if possible. Wants to see him smile like he’s finally managed to get rid of all the weight in his heart.

So despite his embarrassment, and how clear it is on his face, Sonic merely grumbles, and pretends it doesn’t sound soft and fond. Pretends he doesn’t like it when Ruby goes back to seek out more squeaks.

[an-ambivalent]

Oath Of Desires: One

Synopsis: [Yandere! Jungkook x Reader x Taehyung] [Poly AU]

It had only been them three for a long time. Not one person more, not one person less – just Jungkook, Taehyung and [Name].

Jungkook was elated when Taehyung and [Name] told him that they had become a couple. He literally could not have been happier.

They were his favourite couple, and he loved them both…. A little too much.

When there was a hindrance in Taehyung and [Name]’s relationship which caused them to fall apart, Jungkook was distraught. Afterwards, when he realized the depths of his love for his ‘friends,’ Jungkook made an oath of his dark desires – he was going to do whatever it took to get them back together. And this time, he was also going to become part of their relationship.

Warning: As this story contains yandere themes, the characters display behaviors that can be triggering or uncomfortable to read. Read at your own risk. This work is purely fiction. I do not believe any of the mentioned members would display any sort of this behaviour irl.

“The strongest drug that exists for a human, is another human being.”

-Ella Frank, A Desperate Man: Volume 1

The sun rays peaked through the white clouds that were suspended in the air, and shone brightly on top of the car’s windshield. The light of the rays was harsh enough to make both Taehyung and [Name] wince, and simultaneously, they lowered their sun visors. The day was bright, and a bit too sunny,  as Taehyung drove himself, and [Name] to Jungkook’s residence.

The main road was busy with its usual traffic. So when Taehyung drove, the sound of others cars driving around them, birds chirping here and there, and other people walking on the footpath was all part of their current mundane background. As Taehyung signalled to drive into the right lane beside his current one, so he could take the next right, [Name] spoke.

“How do you think Jungkook will react?” She asked, and turned her head towards Taehyung, whom’s eyes flickered to the rear mirror, before they focused back on the road in front of them.

He pressed his lips in a thin line.

“I don’t know,” Taehyung began, as his eyes shifted to [Name]. His gaze returned to the road momentarily,  and then down towards her lap. He eyed her hands for a few seconds, before grabbing her right hand, and intertwining their fingers together. “Jungkook can be unpredictable sometimes. He’s especially really iffy when it comes to the two of us. I don’t know if you’ve noticed but sometimes when we talk to someone that isn’t him, the look on his face is abnormal. Or that one time, when we had plans and I couldn’t meet up with him, he was a bit too furious.”

“I… get what you mean but cut him some slack Tae. Jungkook hasn’t had the best childhood so of course, sometimes the way he behaves would be questionable and strange. Despite everything he went through, I think he’s doing really well adjusting to the outside world.”

“Yeah, too well.” Taehyung noted, and he furrowed his eyebrows. “Don’t you find that a bit weird sometimes?”

[Name] frowned.

“Why are you being so doubtful of him all of a sudden?” [Name] asked, and just as Taehyung opened his mouth to answer, she shook her head.

“You know what, don’t answer that. I don’t care what you have to say about that. I, personally think it’s great that Jungkook is not struggling the way we expected him to. I’m quite proud of him,” She said smiling.

Taehyung glanced at her, before he scoffed.

“You baby him too much. And all I wanted to say was that Jungkook is just a bit weird, just be careful around him sometimes. Don’t trust him blindly because at the end of the day, he’s a man and you never know what a man might do,” Taehyung warned, and his grip on the steering wheel tightened. At his words, [Name]’s eyebrow twitched because at this point,  only a deity could help her. She did not know how many times she had heard the same thing from her father, male cousins, and now, her own boyfriend.

“You are a man too, last time I checked. Does that mean I shouldn’t trust you fully either?” She questioned mockingly. Sarcasm and sass was laced in her voice, and it was obvious from the way she had spoken that she was challenging Taehyung with his own statement. She expected him to scowl at her, and then return her banter with even more sass the way he usually did. However, Taehyung was completely serious, and the punch line she was waiting for, was never delivered.

Instead, his following words caused shivers of unknown fear to run through [Name].

“Yes, don’t trust me fully either for your own safety. You never know what sort of horrifying lengths a man would go to simply because he can’t win over his own desires. And neither Jungkook, or me are an exception to that reality,” Taehyung stated simply, and that was the end of their conversation for the rest of the car ride.

Presently, [Name] and Taehyung were at Jungkook’s residence. The youngest of the trio, Jungkook, had wanted to have a movie night rather than go out. And because [Name] and Taehyung wanted to “break” the news to him, and were exhausted from their day activities, they had agreed without any hesitancy. So, the infamous slasher ‘Psycho (1960)’ was playing on Jungkook’s television. [Name] and Taehyung had squished themselves by each other’s side on Jungkook’s small couch, and left no room for him.

Jungkook had been annoyed by that, but reluctantly sat on the ground where he could be between both of his friends. He claimed an entire bowl of popcorn for himself as a sort of “revenge” against them for hogging the couch, and left the other bowl to be shared between just two people. Given the recent development in their relationship, [Name] and Taehyung did not mind. However, in order to not raise suspicion about it, they kept a safe amount of distance from each other.

While the film was playing, and Jungkook seemed to be immersed in it, they conversed amongst themselves ‘quietly.’

[Name] elbowed Taehyung, which made him glance towards her. Then with her eyes, she gestured towards Jungkook, while mouthing the words “tell him.”

Taehyung merely ignored her, and returned his attention towards the film. [Name] knew that he had done this not because he was actually invested in the film, but because he was trying to delay their situation as much as he could.

Of course, [Name] could not fathom why Taehyung was being so difficult about the situation, or was being hesitant in telling Jungkook. This annoyed her, and finally, she was at the end of her patience because she nudged him on the shoulder firmly.

“Why are you being so difficult?” She whispered harshly, as she moved herself closer to Taehyung. She pressed her body against his, and was too focused on the current situation to notice how his tan cheeks had reddened slightly at the contact. “He will find out sooner or later. Better from us, than on his own.”

“I know, I will tell him, just give me some time. I’m trying to think of what to say,” Taehyung whispered back, and [Name] rolled her eyes at him.

“You don’t need to think in general to start running your mouth. Why the unnecessary effort now?” She sassed.

“If you are that keen, then why don’t you talk to him?”

“I did talk to him last time we addressed an issue. Now, it's your turn. Stop chickening out, chicken.”

“Don’t call me a chicken! You know how much I hate tha--”

“If you don’t call a chicken, chicken, then what else would you call it--” And as [Name] and Taehyung continued to bicker, with amusement on their faces, they had forgotten that the very person they were talking about, was right in front of them, listening to their each word. Finally, Jungkook spared them any further trouble and turned towards them.

Wonderment over what they wanted to tell him was etched in his irises.

“What are you being so secretive about?” He enquired. Immediately, [Name] and Taehyung stilled in the midst of their banter. Turned out, that their little argument had taken a rather physical turn, because Taehyung was holding [Name] down in his lap, and getting ready to tickle her. Between their movements, her shirt had ridden up slightly. When she caught Jungkook’s eyes focusing on her revealed skin, it felt wrong. [Name] sat up right away, and pulled her shirt down. She refused to return Jungkook’s stare, who’s attention was eventually, and fortunately taken away from her because Taehyung had finally started talking.

“Um, there’s something we should probably tell you,” Taehyung began with a strained and awkward smile. The evident and unusual nervousness in his voice caused Jungkook to narrow his eyes at them. He was responding before Taehyung had even finished explaining.

“Is someone bothering you in anyway? Just tell me, and I have connections that can--”

“What? No one is bothering us,” Taehyung interrupted him, and he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “Even if they were, you have connections that can what?” He demanded.

Taehyung did not receive the response he wanted from Jungkook. This was because Jungkook had smiled innocently at him, rather than elaborating on his words further.

“I was just kidding. I guess it was a bad timing for a joke, sorry. Continue, I’ll be mindful to not cut you off like that again,” Jungkook said, and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

Taehyung was suspicious, and he was going to act on his suspicion. However, when he noticed the glare that he was getting from [Name], he decided against it, and simply decided to do as she wanted -- for now anyway.

“Okay so the thing we were secretive about was because  it feels a bit awkward to say this. But, [Name] and I have started dating,” Taehyung said simply.

Jungkook blinked once, twice, and then a third time. Afterwards, he just stared at his two best friends, being unable to process the situation.

“What?” He asked, more to himself, than to them.

[Name] and Taehyung glanced at each other, before they returned their eyes to Jungkook. [Name] was the first one to move closer towards him, and settled her hand on his shoulder as a comforting gesture.

“I understand if its a lot to take in, or you are disappointed. But I promise you that you won’t feel left out--”

“You two are dating?” Jungkook asked, with wide doe-eyes as he looked at [Name], and then at Taehyung. Soon, the ‘doe’ innocence in his eyes was replaced with eagerness.  

The two glanced at each other again, before they nodded.

Taehyung sighed. “As [Name] was saying, we understand if you are disappointed--”

Jungkook shook his head a little bit too excitedly.

“I’m not disappointed! Why would I be? This is so great, my two best friends -- dating! You’ll be like those couples in the movies now going on dates, sharing kisses, and getting married. Wow, and I’ll be able to see that happen… Speaking of which, have you guys gone on your first date yet?!” He asked, and his eyes were literally shining.

[Name] and Taehyung were rather surprised at Jungkook’s reaction. Out of everything, they had not expected this. They had prepared for the worst. But, it seemed as if they had been worried over nothing, especially Taehyung. Finally, he relaxed physically, as if a great burden had been lifted off his shoulders.

He should have expected better from himself than to let his own insecurities take over so much, that he ended up being so doubtful over his close friend.  

His eyes flickered towards [Name], who was adorning a small blush on her cheeks.

“We haven’t yet,” She replied, and then covered her face with her hands in order to hide her blush. Her words only enticed Jungkook further, because he was close to bouncing up and down on his feet in joy.

“Oooh, that’s even better then! Because that means I can help Taehyung plan your first date, and accompany you two to make sure that everything goes perfect.”

[calucadu]

The Camping Trip, a Boku no Hero Academia/My Hero Academia One Shot.

This is my piece for the @summerexplosionzine! I love going camping and I couldn’t this year so at least I still got the chance to experience it by writing this. I had so much fun writing it and I'm actually really proud and happy with the result! I hope you like it too ❤ It's a free zine full of incredible content and vibrant colours and I really recommend downloading it!

Summary: Kirishima, Bakugou and Uraraka go on a camping trip together!

Pairings: Bakugou Katsuki/Kirishima Eijirou/Uraraka Ochako, Bakugou Katsuki/Kirishima Eijirou, Kirishima Eijirou/Uraraka Ochako, Bakugou Katsuki/Uraraka Ochako

Characters: Bakugou Katsuki, Kirishima Eijirou, Uraraka Ochako.

Rating: Teen and up

Read on AO3

Or read below the cut

I feel like a little kid again as I kick my legs, enjoying being driven around. I’m in the back seat of Eijirou’s car, and he’s taking us to the campsite where we’re going to be spending the next day and night. We weren’t able to get more time off work, unfortunately, but I’m still looking forward to our small trip.

Since the redhead is driving, he has total control of the music being played. He brought a mixtape he’d made and is now blasting it at full volume while tapping his fingers against the steering wheel to the rhythm of the songs I know he picked for us. I know this because the first one that starts playing is Katsuki’s favourite.

The blond, who called shotgun weeks before our trip, gives an exasperated sigh as he looks at Eijirou before snorting and rolling his eyes. The redhead excitedly slaps his arm, trying to verbally encourage him to sing along with him. The other just looks away, hiding his mouth with his hand, which I know he’s doing because he’s trying to pretend he’s not actually smiling. I squeal, watching as his reflection blushes.

The next song that starts playing is a soft piano melody. The redhead adjusts his rear-view mirror to look at me cheekily before nudging Kat again.

“Hey, sing this one with me.”

“Hell no! This is one of those romantic slow ones. I ain’t singing shit.”

Ei chuckles, but clutches his heart dramatically, belting out the first few words of the lyrics. The blond groans audibly and shakes his head as he feigns having lost interest. The redhead persists, tilting his head towards Katsuki when traffic allows him to and singing romantically to our boyfriend.

“Shove off!” Comes his answer, pushing the other away gently.

Eijirou laughs just as the melody slows down again but continues intoning. “And you’re my sun and my moon, you’re my stars” I croon with it, since I know the song well. The redhead lifts his gaze and our eyes interlock through the reflection in the rear-view mirror. He smiles at me and I feel my heart swell in my chest.

The ballad ends with Katsuki threatening to go back home the moment we arrive if Eijirou plays another romantic song. The latter chuckles but puts another one of the blond’s favourites on to lighten the mood.

The rest of the drive goes by quickly enough. It’s not far anyway, and since it’s not a holiday there’s not much traffic. I spot the sign for the campsite when we’re still on the highway and I immediately start bouncing up and down in my seat excitedly. I’ve never been camping before, and if I recall correctly, neither has Eijirou. We both know Katsuki used to do it a lot with his parents when he was small, and when the redhead decided to surprise him with this nostalgia trip, neither of us missed the glint of happiness in the blond’s eyes. We knew just how important camping and hiking is for our little hothead, and how much he enjoys doing these sorts of things, so we planned this holiday for him. He helped us with the details of it, since he’s the one with experience, but now I’m as excited for the trip as he is. I know he worked hard on it so we could enjoy our first time and I’m very proud of him.

The campsite is gorgeous! The entrance is in the middle of the forest, but there’s a giant sign at the entryway, like in a film. I gape at the parked caravans in amazement as we drive by them. There are also cabins, but we drive past them as well, since we’re heading over to the area reserved for tents. They give you a spot in the middle of the woods and you can park your vehicle there. There are plenty of trees surrounding our section, isolating us from any potential neighbours – although they seem pretty far away so they won’t be much of a problem – and giving us a lot of shade.

The first thing Katsuki does when we arrive is set up his hammock. He lies on it as he watches us struggle to pitch the tent, smiling smugly and boasting about how easy his job was.

“You’re helping with this too!” Ei counters, going over the instructions again. He frowns as he reads. “After all, you’re supposed to be the one that’s good at this sort of thing.”

The canvas is a small four-person dome tent that was the Bakugous until their son decided to take off with it a couple years ago. It’s a bit battered and old because they used it a lot when Katsuki was younger and they took him on camping trips. It’s got a few holes here and there, but it still works perfectly. It’s not really visually appealing, since it’s a creamy sort of colour, but it’s supposed to be functional and practical, not pretty. It seems relatively easy to set up, even though both Eijirou and I are having trouble figuring it out.

Katsuki grumbles and hops off from the hammock, going over to us in two strides and extending his hand to ask for the instructions. The redhead clicks his tongue, frowning slightly as he gives them to him.

Turns out that even the blond finds setting the tent harder than he thought. He complains that it’s been a while since he last used it, and even then, he’d been a child and didn’t recall helping his parents, to which Eijirou remarks a low ‘what a surprise’ that Katsuki outright ignores. I manage to calm him down by pressing my lips lightly to his, and he immediately gets his act together, picking up the poles and instructing us on what to do.

We end up setting it up pretty quickly after that. It isn’t perfect – especially on my side, I don’t think I pulled the corner guyline as far as it could go, and I didn’t have enough force to put the pegs in properly – but it’ll do. Ei makes it steadier by hammering my loose pegs into the ground a bit better and then he smiles at me proudly.

“I knew we could do it!” He announces, tying the door flaps to the side neatly so the mesh entryway is open.

“Don’t do that, you’re going to let the bloody spiders in.” Katsuki scolds, coming over to quickly undo his knots.

Eijirou huffs, rolling his eyes lightly. “Whatever you say.”

“Of course it’s whatever I say. I’m the one with the experience.”

I stop their stupid bickering by asking them if they want to eat, which they gladly prefer to do. Lunch consists of the sandwiches we brought. We all made different types to share with each other, sort of like in a picnic. Katsuki eats his in his hammock, gently rocking himself in the shade. Ei tries to get him out of it – I suspect so he can have his turn – but the blond won’t budge. I eat my tuna fish, mayonnaise and sweetcorn sandwich sitting in the front seat of the car, fiddling with the radio while they’re distracted squabbling.

I feel so content just by listening to a low song play, the musical notes intermixing with the various sounds of nature. I can hear some insects buzzing in the background, and instead of finding it creepy or disgusting like always, I think it’s interesting. My eyes roam over the leaf shaped shades dancing on my legs as I dangle them out of the seat. Everything’s perfect.

We head out for our walk after lunch but not before Eijirou’s finished fussing about us. He always does this, and while I should probably be annoyed about it, it honestly makes my heart swell that he’s there to take care of us in his own way.

Kat and I are prone to getting sunburnt. Ei, on the other hand, easily tans. It’s only been half a day and he’s already a lovely brownish colour, his freckles showing thanks to the sun.

He’s overprotective of us, though, especially about this. He’s the one carrying the cream and applying coat after coat of it all over our skin, tenderly reminding us that it’s for our own good.

I don’t complain; it’s fun to watch Katsuki squirm as Eijirou rubs sun cream on his nose while saying “remember what happened last year?” until the blond finally gives in and stops struggling, crossing his arms stubbornly over his chest.

And he got us hats for this trip too. Mine’s a pretty pastel pink sunhat and Katsuki’s is a rather tacky looking black cap, a skeleton on it probably with the only purpose of satisfying the blond. Ei insists we wear them before going on our walk and puts them on both of our heads after applying a generous amount of sun cream on us. He puts on his own ugly red cap and beams at us.

The redhead offers me his hand, which I of course take. He smiles at me as we stroll, watching as Katsuki quickly overtakes us, grumbling at us to hurry up.

The chirping of the birds mixed with the slight breeze rustling the leaves in the trees makes the walk all the nicer. It’s comforting to hear my other boyfriend treading hard in front of me. Kind of makes me feel like I’m not alone, that he’ll be there in case I need him. I know it’s stupid to think that, especially when I’m walking hand in hand with Ei, but I just feel complete when I’m with them.

I find that the trail is pretty simple. It’s not a long or hard walk by any means, so it’s a nice opportunity for us to relax as we enjoy nature. I amble at a leisurely pace and stop from time to time to have a better look at interesting insects and pretty plants. Eijirou sticks with me, maintaining an engaging conversation as Katsuki marches off on his own, glaring at us from time to time and complaining about how slow we are. I laugh it off because I know he’ll never really leave us behind.

My feet are a little sore by the time we get back. It’s obvious I’m not used to my mountain boots, so it’s comes as a relief when the redhead suggests we play in the little stream near the campsite.

We change into our swimming gear quickly and head over there. Ei is wearing those ridiculous lime swim trunks he likes so much. They’re flashy and tacky, but at least it makes him easier to spot when at the beach. Kat’s are a dark red, a white pattern all over them; and I’m wearing the pink and purple bikini they got me as a present for my last birthday.

It isn’t a long walk to the river, but as we make our way towards it, we cross by friendly people who wave at us and wish as a pleasant day. Eijirou and I answer back cheerly while Katsuki mumbles out a curt hello when the redhead remembers to nudge him in the ribs.

The area we finally decide to relax at is mainly in the shade, and it’s littered with big rocks. We’re far away from the families with kids and couples being all affectionate in public, so we’re in a relatively peaceful spot. I make my way over to one of the boulders and sit myself on it, taking my flipflops off to soak my sore feet in the cool water. A relieved sigh escapes my lips as the cold temperature soothes them.

The stream is nice, and the water is so clear that I can see the little insects and fish that live there play around and do their things. Sadly, their peace is violently disturbed by Ei and Kat, who jump in and start splashing around.

I would normally be annoyed, but I care too much for them to find their shenanigans anything but adorable and charming. The redhead howls in laughter as he chases the other around, trying to get him wet, but the blond is agile even in water and manages to not get drenched.

He goes over to where I am and threatens to use me as a shield. I shriek, playing along, until I have to actually cover my face because the redhead has decided that I’m worth sacrificing for the greater good.

It’s cute how they have fun. I pretend I’m above their childish playing, but I indulge myself and splash them too, which spurs them on. The three of us end up turning it into a competition to see who can wet the others the most and we scream and giggle as we run around.

We play, splash and laugh for what seems like hours until we get tired and go back to sitting on a rock big enough for the three of us. Ei intertwines our hands together and kisses me on the cheek lovingly before rubbing our noses together cutely. Kat pretends to be jealous and starts splashing him again, but the redhead laughs and pecks me on my lips before asking us if we’ve had enough.

Since I can’t feel my feet because of how cold the water is and Kat seems to be getting tired, we get out of the river and dry ourselves before heading back to the campsite. Ei talks excitedly about how lovely the day’s been and how pretty the sun is now that it’s setting as we walk, towels wrapped around our necks.

Katsuki made our dinner at home, which is a relief since by the time we get to our car and tent, the sky’s already dark. When we’d been preparing the trip, we’d gone over the equipment we would need, and found his parent’s old camping stove. He had complained bitterly about how much of a safety hazard it seemed and had forbidden Ei from even coming close to him while he was using it, if he decided to use it. Instead he’d chosen to bring a nice pasta salad that we could enjoy cold.

We take turns to grab a plate and sit in a circle this time; the hammock completely forgotten at this point. The meal is really nice, and unlike Kat’s usual cooking, it isn’t spicy. We devour it quickly and in silence, tired from all the fun we’d had all day.

After we’ve eaten and we’ve cleared the plates up, Ei picks up his guitar and sits on the ground in front of the tent. He strums his instrument, humming lightly to himself. I turn my head to watch him just as his head drops back and his eyes glance at the sky, a smile forming on his lips. He agilely moves his fingers of his left hand to form the chords he needs for his song, and immediately starts playing. His voice starts off low as he glances nervously between me and Katsuki.

Surprisingly, the blond doesn’t even click his tongue. He sits down next to him, his eyes fixed on the ground as he starts to sing along with him. It’s a song I don’t recognise, but it sounds lovely. It’s not slow but it isn’t fast paced either; the rhythm is gentle and sweet.

There’s something about the melody that raises goose bumps all over my arms and legs. It’s not a sad song, but I feel myself being moved by it nonetheless. It looks like they’re both quite fond of it, too, especially since the blond is singing along. It feels powerful for some reason I don’t understand, and, for a moment, I feel left out.

Ei and Kat are glancing at each other. They share this song and whatever memories they formed while listening to it the first few times they did. I’ve never heard it before. I don’t know anything about it.

It’s true that they started dating before they included me in their special relationship, and, sometimes, more often than not, and despite how hard they try to not make me feel like this, I feel weird. I feel like a stranger in their love. Not because they don’t love me – they do, and I know, I can tell – but because of their history together. They did so many things before I arrived that it makes me feel insecure. Like I don’t belong with them, like they’re better off without me.

I try not to let the sadness overcome me as I sit myself on the redhead’s other side. Clenching my fists against my legs I force a smile on my face and wait until they’ve finished.

“Chako.” Ei mutters, his eyes never leaving his guitar. He’s still strumming it, his movements slower and less fluid than before. “That’s the song I wrote for Katsuki. I wanted to confess to him with it.”

“But you never did.” The blond whispers.

“But I never did.” He chuckles, but it sounds dejected and wrong, like he forced himself to do it.

“It’s only ‘cause I did it first, dummy. Don’t get all sad and nostalgic on us.” Katsuki berates him, but his voice lacks his usual gruff tone, and instead just seems tired.

“Yeah. He’s right. And I ended up singing it to him a lot anyway. I don’t want you to pull that face ever again, Chako.”

“Wh… what face?” I stammer, trying to laugh it off.

“I saw you. You looked sad. I’m going to play it again, so you can listen to the lyrics.”

“Ei…” Katsuki warns him, his voice softer than before.

“But it’s okay, I wrote a song for you too.” The redhead whispers, locking his eyes with mine. The melody starts again and they both start singing.

It is about Katsuki. It never says his name, but now that I know the meaning behind it, I can tell it’s about how brave and strong he is, how he looks like he’s hard and undefeated on the outside, but he’s actually as human as the rest of us are. It speaks of how soft he is with the people he loves and how he’ll do whatever he can to make them happy, in his own way. Every word in the lyrics is beautifully arranged to make the most perfect song to describe the most perfect blond I know. Speaking of, when I manage to peel my eyes off of Eijirou, I spot tears running down Katsuki’s cheeks. He wipes them away discreetly, but we’ve already noticed the song brings out an emotion he tries to keep locked away.

The song slowly dies down and the redhead clears his throat before he starts a new one. This new melody is much more upbeat, but the lyrics are no less deep. It’s about a pretty face that doesn’t try to deceive you, because she’s as sweet as she looks; cute, simple and strong in her own way. It tells a story of how she saved two boys and how she never knew just what she meant to them. It’s beautiful, too, far prettier than I expected anything sang for me could be. Tears are rolling down my cheeks by the time the song ends. Ei is looking at me expectantly while Kat is doing his best to avert his eyes.

“We kind of wrote it together.” The redhead mutters, a small smile on his face.

“He wrote it basically. It was also his idea. I just helped.”

“You called her pretty and insisted I added that into the song.” Ei teases him, nudgingly him gently in the ribs.

“Shut up!”

I can’t help myself and start laughing, closing my eyes to try and stop the emotions bubbling out of me. The tears can’t be halted at this point, but it’s okay, because I’m smiling despite them. Before I know it, I’m being pulled into a hug, and I feel overwhelmed by their warmth and love.

When I’ve finally calmed down enough, I ask them to let me go and they do, slowly releasing me from their embrace. Kat looks at me worriedly, but I reassure him that I’m fine with a sweet smile and he ruffles my hair lovingly. Ei picks the guitar again and positions himself once more to continue playing songs. This time he sings some classics and I try to keep up to him, but I can’t remember most of the lyrics, so I just hum along when I don’t. The blond sometimes sings too, but he prefers to look up at the sky and enjoy listening to us.

I mimic Katsuki and tilt my head up. The stars look lovely in the sky tonight. There’s just something in the atmosphere that makes me feel happy, blessed to be there with them and glad to be alive. The gentle music in the background, the lovely sparkling lights, the feeling of love and friendship and being with the people you can’t live without make me feel elated. I don’t want this to end.

“Do you think it’s going to be colder later tonight?” I ask a bit later, frowning as I gaze at the dark sky. I got lost in the songs and time flew by, and now it’s a little bit chilly.

Ei sets his guitar aside before moving closer to me and wrapping an arm over my shoulders. He pulls me in tightly, nuzzling me against his broad chest. “You’re not cold, are you?” He asks, worriedly.

I snuggle closer to him and shake my head. “I’m fine like this.”

“Good!” He hugs me closer to himself, and even invites Kat into the embrace as he whispers: “I’m having the best day!”

It doesn’t take us much longer to crawl into the tent. We’re tired and I can feel my own eyes closing. Once inside, we spread out our sleeping bags and mats, trying to decide how to lay them and where to sleep.

Katsu’s looking at his dark blue sleeping bag in disgust, pondering something. When he finally gives in to his thoughts, he sighs, letting it drop onto his lap.

“It’s going to be hot tonight. In the tent I mean.” He mutters, calmly.

Ei looks up at him, frowning. “So?”

“So, we won’t need these.” He answers back, sounding exasperated.

“What if it gets colder later on?” I ask, unzipping my red one.

The blond grumbles something under his breath before he picks his sleeping bag again and tosses it to me. I just look at him, watching as his eyebrows frown and his lip curls slightly.

“Just… fucking… understand me already or whatever.”

Ei laughs gently, crawling over to the other.

“You okay there, bud?”

“I… just… look. Let’s just sleep together.”

The redhead pulls away and looks at me with his ‘adoring Katsuki’ face. “He wants us to open the sleeping bags and use them like blankets.” He coos lovingly.

“Oh my god, that’s adorable! He’s so cute!”

“He is!”

“Shut up. I can hear you perfectly and it’s creepy.”

“You want to sleep with us so much, Katsuki?”

“Stop talking like that or I’ll change my mind!”

“Okay, okay!” I whisper, unzipping my sleeping bag completely and spreading it. “Let’s do it!”

“Alright!” Ei enthusiastically nearly yells as he forcefully unzips his. Kat does his very unenthusiastically, and still blushing. He avoids looking at us as he lies down next to me and spreads his sleeping bag over me.

“Wait.” I say, pulling his down a little bit and taking a closer look at it. “We could zip them together.”

“That’d be so cool! But is it possible with our sleeping bags?” Kiri asks, searching for his zipper.

It turns out it’s very possible and we link all of them together to form a blanket of sorts. Katsuki pushes me back so that I’m lying in the middle and tells Eijirou to hug me too. The redhead smiles and snuggles up to me, wrapping his arms around my waist, pulling me towards him just slightly. The other grunts as I’m taken away from him but gets up just slightly to kiss me on the mouth and wish me a good night. He presses his lips to Eijirou’s too and turns the light off before going back to my side, where his arm goes to join the redhead’s at my waist.

Honestly, I’ve never been happier.

[softestziam]

So, I’m taking a permanent break from writing, my heart’s not in it anymore. I am going to leave you all with my Bachelor AU fic though. It’s incomplete but it’s all I've got.

The birds were singing a beautiful song as they flew high in the cloudless, blue sky. Children could be heard laughing from the park a few blocks away, the daily bustle of people making their way to their next location. A perfect day all around.

That was until Zayn was forced awake by the loud noise coming from his phone. His alarm. With a groan he blindly searched for the bane of his existence, feeling around until he found it resting on his chest. He turned off the noise but still refused to open his eyes. He was way too hungover for this. This being a new day, sometimes even life.

That was a story he wasn't quite ready to delve deeper into just yet. Letting out a frustrated sigh Zayn finally opened his eyes and took in his surroundings, once again he was sleeping in the backseat of his car. The only thing he had to call his own at the moment, that was another story he didn't feel like thinking about right now.

It did look like a beautiful day, though. Not a single cloud in the sky and birds were actually chirping as they flew overhead. Hmm. Not even a full minute after he was actually awake Zayn's phone rang and he knew who it was calling him almost immediately. With an eye roll and a cough to clear his throat he begrudgingly answered.

“Lou.”

“Where the hell are you Malik?” Louis asked, practically yelling at him over the noise in the background. “Production starts in twenty and I can't have a show without my best producer, okay?”

Zayn internally groaned at the boldface lie Louis just spewed out. “I'm on my way, Lou. Just stopped to get a cuppa, want one?”

“Large Yorkshire, two sugars, no milk,” he rattled off. “That's another issue I won't get into right now, Welsh tea is shite, and craft service isn't up here yet. It's a slight disaster.”

“Breathe babe,” Zayn instructed him gently, sitting up in the backseat and rummaging through his knapsack for clean clothes. “Be there in twenty, okay?”

“Make it ten and I'll give you a raise,” Louis bargained.

“See you Lou,” he answered and hung up, throwing his phone on the driver's seat.

Once he found clean enough clothes, Zayn changed quickly, thanking whatever deity that was watching over him that day that he remembered to grab his deodorant before Adam kicked him out. He ran his hands through his hair, shaved close at the sides leaving the top long, before tying it up in a quick ponytail. He didn't have any clean socks so he turned the ones he wore yesterday inside out, it was better than going without, like Louis was always so keen on doing. He rummaged through his bag until he found a small bottle of mouthwash before spitting it out in the cup that rested in the console between the two front seats. This was his life and frankly it was rather pathetic.

Without a second thought Zayn finally left his car and hoped he could find a place in the middle of Wales that sold Yorkshire tea or else Louis would definitely have his arse. Thanking his lucky stars once more he spotted a coffee cart on his way to set, even better they had a large neon sign praising their authentic Yorkshire tea. Maybe it was a sign that things wouldn't go to shit this year, probably not, this was Zayn's life we are talking about. Fishing what little money he had in his pocket, Zayn gave it to the clerk before making his final trek to the set.

Once he arrived he realized what Louis was talking about. Everything looked chaotic, like a bomb had went off. Trucks were parked everywhere, producers, assistants, and writers were all standing around the spacious mansion, all looking completely lost.

“Malik!” Louis shouted at him once he was spotted. He smiled wide and grabbed his tea out of Zayn's hand before gulping down a large sip. “Not me mum's but it'll do. Welcome home straggler.”

“Home,” he scoffed and let himself be escorted through the masses. He casually nodded his head at the crew members he recognized, faking a smile at those he didn't. Louis pushed him up the stairs of the production trailer. His home for the next eight weeks. “Jeez, Lou, you splurged on a new couch this season.”

“Late nights at the office call for comfort,” he explained and sat in front of a messy desk. If you wanted it to call it a desk, it looked more like a table they had at canteens back in his uni days, covered in dirt and mysterious stains. “Take a seat and get yourself familiarized with this year's hopefuls.”

Zayn took the empty seat next to Louis and skimmed the binder quickly. Faces blending together quickly. Everyone looked the same on the show, fake smiles and even faker stories. They'd try anything to land on the show in hopes of finding true love. “And where's our suitor?”

“In the flat we set up for him down the road,” Louis groaned. “A real tosser this kid.”

“That's what you get for recruiting Liam Payne,” he laughed and flipped through the pages of the binder once more. “The first gay suitor and we end up with England's biggest headache, good job Tommo.”

Louis let out a fake laugh and bent down so he was crowding up Zayn's space, his head resting on his shoulder. “I've missed your bratty attitude, Malik. Feels like home.”

“Fuck off,” Zayn told him and pushed Louis's face away from his shoulder. “Niall here yet?”

“Set to arrive in an hour,” Louis answered and played with the walkie talkie clipped to his belt, finally turning it on. “Production meeting in fifteen, pick your boy and then we'll discuss incentives, okay?”

Zayn let Louis leave the truck as he read over the binder once more. This was common among the producers, they all picked a contestant that was going to win the heart of the suitor and at the end of the season whoever won, or came closest to winning, usually was rewarded financially. In the three years Zayn had worked for Everlasting he had never won. It was an ongoing joke among the staff, that whoever he chose usually was sent home first.

This time, this year he wanted to win, needed to win. He needed all the help he could get in the money department, and he was going to do whatever was in his power to do it. Lie, cheat, and steal was how Louis and the rest of the producers played the game and Zayn was more than willing to join in this year.

He read over the mini biography they had on this year's suitor, Liam Payne. Maybe if Zayn could get into his psyche a little he could choose someone who'd be compatible enough with him to win this whole thing. Zayn knew enough about Liam though, all of the United Kingdom did. He was a typical playboy, used and abused his status to get what he wanted. His father, Geoff Payne was a real estate mogul, made good money that way. He put money aside for his son, not allowed to touch it until he turned twenty one. Within the first year of receiving the money Liam had blown close to half of it. Zayn scoffed as he read over the biography, of course all the horrible stories about Liam were omitted. Typical.

Closing the binder with a thud that echoed in the empty truck, Zayn stood up and made his way to the production meeting. It was a short walk across the way but he could already hear the laughs as he approached the trailer. It already sounded like Louis was showing off, always a ham in front of an audience. Didn't matter the size of the crowd he always bathed in the attention.

Swinging open the door to the trailer Zayn froze. He immediately realized why they were all laughing. They were laughing at him. Last series finale was being projected on the large screen tv mounted on the wall in front of the room. He gripped the binder in his hands tighter, knuckles turning white with the pressure. Last year wasn't his proudest moment, that's when he hit rock bottom. Luckily the network and show runners omitted his very public breakdown from airing but it still stung to see. Especially now that Louis was showing it for a laugh.

Zayn watched himself on screen down a whole bottle of champagne in two gulps, staggering on the sand of the beach in whatever exotic island they were filming at. It was like a train wreck, he wanted to look away but he couldn't. This was the first time he actually saw the footage, for a long time Zayn just thought it was a very detailed dream he couldn't shake. Moments were a little fuzzy, specific things he may have done and said getting lost in his memory.

He started to cringe when everyone began to laugh again as onscreen Zayn approached the contestant as she stood in front of the suitor, stars in her eyes. He grabbed her face in his hands and slowly started to shake her, telling her that she was going to lose, not be proposed to. The contestant immediately started to cry and looked over Zayn's shoulder at the suitor, waiting for him to correct Zayn's statement. When he remained silent she went ballistic, on a mad rampage. She was crying, mascara instantly staining her cheeks. Zayn shrugged the entire thing off, walking along the beach as the camera followed his every move. The losing contestant continued her tirade, trying to kick and punch at the suitor who now rejected her.

In the simplest of terms, it was a complete disaster. Louis could be heard yelling at Zayn to get out of the shot, that he was ruining a perfectly good shot. The contestant kept physically showing her anger as stage hands and assistants tried to wrangle her free from the suitor.

Back in the production room everyone kept laughing and visibly kept cringing at the antics onscreen. Zayn sighed and stretched out his hands, dying for a cigarette to calm his nerves. Not even a full hour at work and his was already itching for a fix. Great.

“Cheers Lou. Thanks mate,” Zayn said dryly, licking his lips.

The small room of people quickly quieted down, all turning to look at an embarrassed Zayn who kept standing right by the door. Louis in front of the room like he belonged there. Technically he did, he was the executive producer of the entire show.

“What!” He exclaimed in shock. “I always show the series finale before a new season begins.”

Zayn rolled his eyes as he finally took a seat at an empty table, throwing open the binder and plucking a pen from the cup in front of him. “The episode that aired though, not the rough cuff.”

“Talking about rough,” one producer muttered unsuccessfully under her breath.

Louis cut his eyes at the female producer, a warning of some sort. “Oh get off it Malik, no harm, no foul, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Zayn replied with an eye roll. “Can we get down to business before the contestants show up, please?”

Louis paused the footage as some of the other producers and whoever else was in the room silently protested. Zayn really did hate a vast majority of his co workers, none of them really had any respect for him, that was obvious. That was also his own fault if he was being honest with himself.

He was a walking disaster all last series, drunk a majority of the time. He never expected it to culminate during the finale, the stress of the eight weeks of filming finally getting to him. His little meltdown during the finale got the attention of the shows creator and the network. The moment he arrived back in London he was rushed into the head of the network's offices and was given a stern talking to. Zayn wasn't allowed to speak unless he was given permission, which was a crock of shit by the way. He had to agree to go to a rehab for four weeks between series and he had to pay back all the structural damage that was caused.

He did what he was told though, went through the program and pretended to actually care. He was allowed to return for the new series and that was all Zayn really wanted anyway. He knew all eyes were going to be on him this time around, one false step and he would lose his job. Zayn knew how to get around things, had done it a majority of his life. He knew the only way to survive another eight weeks of filming was with some liquid courage, all which could be hidden by mouthwash and cologne.

“So the incentives you talked about earlier, Lou?” Zayn asked, tapping his pen loudly on the opened binder.

Louis took down the footage of the previous years season and opened up another folder. It was headshots of all twenty five contestants. “Everyone in this room will chose a contestant. Depending on what they do and what we capture on camera, you'll be handsomely rewarded. Sounds good?”

“How much are we getting when we win?” Sandy, a camera operator asked.

“£20,000,” Louis answered. “This is our first gay suitor, I wanted to raise the stakes a little. I have a board in my office truck with all these guys pictures, you'll simply just write your name underneath their picture and watch the magic unfold.”

The meeting ran a few minutes longer but Zayn had zoned out immediately after Louis stopped discussing money. He looked down at his binder once more and smiled at his choice, Harry Styles.

This kid was going to make him rich this series, he was Zayn's ticket out of this hellhole. He knew his choice would get him laughed at amongst the crew, but Zayn could feel it in his bones. This kid was going to be able to solve all his problems. Now he couldn't wait to meet him and mold him into the perfect contestant for Liam. Harry looked like the type of contestant that was going to be perfect for the camera, the audience was going to eat him up immediately, hopefully Liam would too.

Once the meeting was over Zayn grabbed his things and headed straight towards the mansion. The cameramen were setting up and there were wires all over the floor, he had to tiptoe around them, hoping not to trip over them. The limos could been seen up the hill, just waiting for their cue. Makeup and hair people were running around like crazy, getting whoever was going to be on camera ready. Zayn stole a pack of barbecue crisps from the craft service table that finally arrived. He munched on them loudly, nodding his head in greeting to Niall when he made his appearance.

Niall was a good lad, been presenter of the show since the very first day. He too had become jaded of the whole thing, but a paycheck was a paycheck and no one in their right mind was going to turn that down. If Zayn was one of the lonely housewives who watched the show every Monday night he'd watch solely to see Niall. His charisma was unmatched in the industry, and genuine too. When filming ran long Zayn could always depend on Niall for a good joke and a stiff drink, two things neither boys could live without.

The noise around the mansion ended abruptly when Liam finally made it on stage, a PA literally dragging him. Great. That's exactly how Zayn predicted this season was going to go. A stubborn rich boy who thought he was too good for the show even when he personally contacted the show. Whatever. Zayn had other things to worry about anyway, like making sure all the limousines were lined up and ready to drop off the contestants without any issue.

Louis walked fast towards Zayn, his hands flailing about as he talked fast into his walkie talkie, more than likely yelling at other producers to get their shit together. It was typical day one nonsense. He had his shit together so Zayn had nothing to worry about, he hoped. He got an appreciative smile from Louis as he zoomed by him so Zayn knew he wasn't messing up. The limousines were ready, Niall and Liam were ready, all that was left was aiming the cameras and recording.

“Welcome to Everlasting,” Niall smiled and greeted the home audience warmly as soon as he was given his cue. Thus began the newest season.

Zayn stood behind all the camera and production crew, binder still held tightly in his hands. He watched as Louis ran from limousine to limousine instructing the constants what to do once they exited the vehicle, it seemed all a little boring and mundane after the sixth guy.

Zayn's job was to make sure the cars didn't end up piling up, a mini traffic jam in front of the mansion. It was a pretty easy job, say some words into this walkie talkie and call it a day. He knew it was going to be a long night, especially how Liam was reacting to every guy the approached him. They all came with a cheesy chat up line, always thinking they were the first person to make a pun out of Liam's last name. None of them were creative or charming.

Niall was fantastic as always, greeting each new contestant like he was the first. Zayn had to hide his smirk behind his binder more than once at him, his eyes were screaming for help even though he plastered on his smile like a champ. Louis was always within his eyeshot, running around behind the crew, barking orders at assistants and camera people. The first day was always the hardest for him, for all of them really. If the first day went smoothly, everything else after all just fell into place just as easily.

The twenty third contestant was making his way into the mansion after his introduction, the sun starting to rise behind the home. They'd been at this for close to four hours. All the stopping and going again just kept dragging on. Everyone was exhausted, the craft service table was practically bare at this point. All the junk food gone around two in the morning. Louis had sent some production assistant out for a coffee and tea run knowing they had at least two more hours of filming before they called it a day. Zayn was just itching for a cigarette and maybe a stiff drink, something to take the edge off.

“Hey Malik, your boy is next,” Dana, a camera operator, joked, winking at him.

Zayn looked down at his binder and nodded with a knowing smile. Harry was the next to last contestant to meet Liam. Liam who looked just as miserable as Zayn felt, good. It always warmed his heart to see the suitors uncomfortable, always made for good tv.

He spoke into his walkie talkie, letting the next limousine driver that he could pull up in front of the mansion. Louis made a mad dash to the car, going over the instructions for the twenty fourth time that day. He was running on autopilot at that point, just gibberish leaving his lips as he spoke now. Louis moved quickly behind the camera as Niall walked up to Liam, letting him know the brief history he had on Harry.

Harry Styles, 22 years old from Holmes Chapel. Just graduated from university with a degree in sociology, thinking about becoming a lawyer. Currently works at a bakery that he's been working in since he was sixteen. The basics that looked like they bored Liam to death. Honestly Zayn couldn't really blame him, after the tenth guy he zoned out too.

The door of the limo opened and out sprang Harry, all long hair and even longer limbs. He looked completely different than the headshot the production crew had of him. This Harry was more of a man than the shy little boy Zayn was expecting to see. He walked with such confidence up to Liam. Dressed in skin tight black skinny jeans, a pink and white button down shirt, only the last two buttons actually done up. His chest was on display, covered in black ink and pale skin. Zayn smirked as Liam gawked at Harry and shook his hand. Jackpot. This kid was going to make him rich.

“Why can't the flower ride his bike?” Harry asked Liam.

Liam looked around the production area, a little unsure as to what was happening. “Umm I-I don't know. Why?”

Harry broke out into a wide grin, showing off his impressive dimples. Zayn was grinning like a fool behind the camera, this feeling was almost as good as getting high or drunk. “Because his petals fell off.”

And that was the moment Zayn Malik wanted to end his life or career, or both. Harry had all the potential in the world. He was tall and attractive, probably could've been a model in another life. But no, this real life Harry had to fuck up his first impression with his potential future fiancé by making a dad joke.

Zayn held his breath as he grimaced from second hand embarrassment. A few members of the crew laughed at the sheer stupidity of it while some actually genuinely laughed at the damn joke. The whole thing was a train wreck, more than likely delighting Louis who just saw everything as ratings. Everyone waited with bated breath for Liam's reaction, at first he just remained stoic, unable to read.

“Did you just dad joke me?” He asked, his eyebrows raised.

“Yeah,” Harry replied proudly. Oh, poor, poor boy.

“I liked it,” he admitted, breaking out into a wide grin and a true laugh. His eyes got lost in his smile, his cheeks rising and laugh lines appeared by his eyes. This was the first time all night anyone saw a genuine emotion from Liam Payne. Maybe Zayn wasn't out of luck with this Harry kid after all. “I know I have one more guy to see before I'm supposed to make my decision. But umm, I want to give you the first impression rose.”

“Me?” Harry asked, taken aback. His green eyes were shining as the threatening to rise sun began to shine in front of him. “Over one stupid joke?”

“It's the first time I've laughed all night,” Liam told him, a blush creeping up his cheeks. Oh gag. This was getting to be too much. He took the single flower from the tray next to him and pinned it to Harry's shirt. “I look forward to getting to know you more, Harry.”

Zayn smiled smugly at the people who gave him dirty looks. Maybe Harry Styles was going to be his ticket out of this hellhole. He walked into the mansion, casting one more look at Liam over his shoulder, his smile wide showing off his two perfect dimples. Cameras hopefully captured that moment because that would melt the hearts of all the lonely housewives in the entire United Kingdom.

They just had one more contestant to introduce to Liam and then the second unit team was going to take over, letting everyone who was already filming catch some shut eye. Except Louis, he never slept while the cameras were rolling. He usually slept when they went on a location for a date, he delegated his responsibilities to another producer. He had bigger concerns back at the mansion where all the other contestants were, hopefully causing trouble.

Zayn let the last limousine know that they were ready for the final contestant. The night felt like it was going to drag on forever and Zayn was craving nicotine, all the coffee and tea in the world wasn't going to help him. He was also getting tired, standing on your feet all day did that to a person. Sleeping in his car obviously didn't help the situation. He must've zoned out, daydreaming of somewhere other than his current location, because Niall was ushering Liam into the mansion and Louis was calling cut.

“Second unit, places,” Louis spoke into his walkie talkie. Almost immediately people began milling about, taking over where the first team left off. “You all know what I want from tonight. Tears, gripping television. Maybe concoct a fight or two, classy stuff.”

Zayn unhooked his walkie talkie from his pants and looked around for his replacement to hand it off to. Everyone else that worked all night were already heading to off to their cars to head back to wherever they were staying for the next several weeks. “Lou? Where's my replacement?”

“Malik,” Louis let out a laugh, approaching Zayn to throw an arm over his shoulders. “You don't get a replacement this year, love. You're stuck here all day, with me.”

“Lou,” he groaned, feeling himself being directed towards the production trailers. He knew the plan. After a day of filming Louis sat in the trailer for the rest of the day watching what they had filmed earlier and concocting the storyline for each episode. “Can I least have a smoke before we dive in?”

Louis narrowed his eyes at Zayn, raising an eyebrow in questioning. He gulped down the rest of his tea and discarded it in a nearby trash can. “Fine. Make it quick, Malik. Smoke so fast that you're dizzy walking back here. Got it?”

“Got it,” he confirmed, heading towards the end of the mansion, towards the front gate. The sun was still rising, now it was close to six in the morning.

He leaned up against the brick wall that was lined up against the gate. It looked like it use to be a running security booth, when this home was occupied. Zayn reached into his back pocket and pulled at his crushed cigarette pack, grinning as he did so. He lit one of his last cigarettes left in the pack and exhaled, feeling the nicotine burning his throat and lungs instantly. Louis wasn't wrong in saying it'll make him dizzy. Going a long time without one had an obvious effect on him.

For a brief moment he closed his eyes and rested his head against the brick, hoping to maybe get a few seconds of sleep before his second shift started. He kept smoking, even with his eyes closed. The dizzy feeling slowly lulling him into a slumber. That was until his silence was interrupted by a rustling noise and whispered voices. How cliché.   

“Yeah, they should be leaving soon. So, pass by my place in about an hour and I'll be available.”

Zayn let out a low groan as he recognized the voice. It was Liam. He had somehow snuck out the home unnoticed and was now standing at the front gate. He opened his eyes and saw Liam standing against the opposite wall talking to someone who looked like one of the limousine drivers.

“I don't know,” the driver replied shyly, clearly batting his eyelashes like it was endearing. Gross.

“There's no cameras where I'm staying. No one will see you,” Liam tried to convince him, grabbing tightly at the other guys hip. “Come on. It'll be our little secret.”

Zayn would be the first one to tell you how much he hated his job, it had gotten to the point where he was only working for a paycheck every week. He had become numb to everything around him, the roses the suitors handed out to the contestants, the constants overabundant amount of just sappy, cheesy, and cliché love tropes the show thrusted into people's faces. It all got to be too much as the years went on.

The one thing that did bother him though was when someone was clearly not cooperating with the process of the show. It just made the storylines fake, well, faker than they already were. Clearly, Liam was not on board with the process, which struck Zayn as funny. He began to laugh to himself, mostly because the sight in front of him was pretty hysterical and because he was also getting a little loopy from lack of sleep. If anyone this season was going to piss off Louis Tomlinson by not fully cooperating it wasn't going to be rich boy Liam Payne, that's for shit sure.

The limousine driver looked a little hesitant, it was clear to Zayn that he was just loving the attention from Liam, though. “I need to be back at the depot by half ten.”

Liam checked his watch and smiled one of those forced smiles. “That gives us more than enough time, babe.”

“Okay, Romeo,” Zayn finally cut in. He discarded his useless cigarette, snuffing it out with the heel of his shoe. “Stop fraternizing with the help, yeah? You have twenty five eligible men inside waiting for you, not to mention the production crew waiting as well.”

“And who the hell are you?” Liam snapped, dropping his hand from the driver's hip and sizing Zayn up. It was clear he had the advantage height and size wise. Zayn always knew from an early age a lot of people were going to underestimate him, that's why he learned to box.

“Your worst nightmare,” he replied, internally groaning at the laughable response. He rolled his eyes at Liam's scoff and turned to the limousine driver. “I'd advise you to leave and never speak of this if you want to keep being employed. Got it?”

The limousine driver didn't even say anything, just took one quick look between Zayn and Liam, noticed they were standing taller and prouder than moments before. He shot Liam an apologetic smile before taking off towards his car and pulling out of the driveway without saying a single word.

“That was bullshit,” Liam spat in Zayn's face. He took a step closer, his nose almost touching Zayn's. “How dare you interfere with my personal business.”

“How dare I?” He laughed, this was getting to be too comical actually. “Babe, your personal business is now my business, the country's too. You wanted to be here, remember? We did not seek you out.”

Liam kept sizing Zayn up, looking him up and down, deciding his next action. He let out a sigh and finally took a step back. “Fine. You win this one, for now.”

“Oh I’m terrified,” he replied sarcastically, grabbing Liam’s wrist to literally drag him back up to the mansion. “Your public awaits you, your highness.”

Zayn grumbled and muttered under his breath the entire time he dragged Liam up the driveway and back to the mansion. He passed him back to an assistant who looked embarrassed that she had lost the one person she was responsible of watching. Shaking his head and not saying another word Zayn walked back to the production trailer he left Louis in earlier. He watched in silence for a while. Watched Louis work meticulously, kind of like an artist in front of a canvas. Everything that was filmed that day on giant monitors in front of him, a huge spiral notebook sprawled out on the keyboard. A pencil in his mouth and one behind his ear, his brows more than likely drawn together in concentration.

Louis was always so loud and in your face, brash. But this Louis was the one Zayn liked the most, the silent side of him not many people got to see. This was the Louis Zayn became friends with all those years ago. The two of them squished into a production truck looking over films, cutting and pasting a storyline to sell, hoping that this series would be the one that put them on the map and get them to the position they were in now. He watched a little while longer in silence as Louis spoke quietly to himself, commenting on what he was watching. Already fed up with the work even though he'd only been at it for a few minutes.

“Having trouble?” Zayn made his presence known, walking over to Louis and taking a seat beside him.

“Payne is a wanker,” he concluded, ripping a piece of paper out of his notebook and handing it to Zayn along with the pencil that once rested on his ear. “He looks bored in every shot we have of him.”

“Shocking,” he replied sarcastically. “Just saw him down the road trying to sleep with a limousine driver.”

“Great,” Louis groaned and fast forward the film a few minutes until he landed on the footage of Harry's arrival. “This is the first genuine emotion we get from him all night. Your boy might win, Malik.”

“He better,” he joked and jotted down notes on his paper. Notes about ways to ensure Harry won Liam's heart, storylines that might help him in the long run. Ways to help coax the country in loving Harry as well. “Unless Payne mucks it all up.”

“I bet you five quid he'll end up alone and ruin this entire series,” Louis laughed, leaning back on his chair, placing his clasped hands behind his head and looking over at Zayn. He was smiling his mischievous smile, lips curled up and white teeth showing. “Which then makes this entire series well worth it, actually.”

Zayn looked up at the monitors and studied Liam's face. He looked bored from the moment Louis called for the cameras to start rolling. He understood the blokes pain, the ridiculousness of it all. But on the other hand Liam had asked for this, asked to be the newest suitor. He studied how Liam's face lit up at the sight of Harry, how Liam Payne looked like a decent human being for once in his miserable life. “Deal. Liam's walking out of here in eight weeks engaged.”

The night kept rolling on, much to Zayn's dismay. The sun was already shining bright in the sky by the time the second unit called cut for the day. The twenty five contestants got well acquainted with Liam, most of them already feeling disdain towards Harry and his rose. Now that filming was over until mid afternoon the set was quiet.

This was the only time on set Zayn truly enjoyed, watching the controlled chaos from the night before become peaceful. He stepped out of the production trailer once Louis allowed him to leave and had to shield his eyes from the bright sun. All the production people were heading to their cars to crash at their hotels until they were needed again. The strategically placed cameras around the mansion and grounds would capture whatever they missed. Nothing went unnoticed on this show.

Zayn continued to drag to feet down the road and towards where he parked his car a few blocks away. He lit a cigarette on his journey back, trying to stretch out his back before he had to cram himself in the backseat. It was a truly glamorous life. Everyone got a hotel, Louis and Niall being accommodated with a luxury flat for the both of them, while Zayn slept in a car. The network didn't trust him in something fancy so they forwent splurging on something decent for Zayn. It was up to him to find a place for live for the next eight weeks. So, he was staying in his car. It was uncomfortable but also free. The money he would save could go to something useful like booze or cigarettes, maybe even clean clothes.

The endless tossing and turning that night kept Zayn awake a majority of the time. Even though he was exhausted he just couldn't sleep. He swore he heard his phone go off at least five times when it actually remained quiet. Everything was quiet around him actually. Like the day before, he woke up and tried to look for whatever clean clothes he had, smelling them before throwing them on. He used what little cologne he had to cover up whatever smell he or his clothes may give off, using mouthwash again instead of brushing his teeth. Also like the day before he stopped and got himself and Louis cups of tea. It was an endless cycle.

The chaos of the set was more controlled, people falling into place with the new series. Luckily today wasn't going to be as long as the day before. Today's filming was going to consist of mostly the mansion and the contestants getting to know Liam before the first elimination ceremony later that night.

He greeted Louis with a smile and handed him the tea before being whisked away into the production trailer, looking at the footage that he had pieced together the night before. Everything was looking good, making Zayn somewhat optimistic for the weeks ahead. Louis was a genius at what he did, even though it pained Zayn to admit that, especially out loud. It was clear from the raw footage how this series would play out. Louis had set up the characters perfectly, crafting his villains and heroes just from one night of filming.

“I need you to do intro interviews today,” Louis told him casually, toying with the buttons on his computer.

“No,” Zayn quickly shot him down. “We have low ranking producers for that.”

Louis sighed and swiveled in his chair, facing Zayn. “Do you not remember that you're on probation? You may be a high ranking producer here but that doesn't mean you can't be a team player.”

“Lou-”

“Not my call, mate,” he gently reminded him, raising his hands in surrender. “It's the network and their bosses. They want to make sure you're still willing to work hard.”

“How are intro interviews a sign of working hard?” He asked, eyebrows raised in curiosity. He was going to have a good laugh at Louis trying to explain this one.

“Bro, I don't know,” he answered with a shrug. “We've all got orders and those are mine. Making sure this season goes off without a hitch and keeping you in line.”

“Like I'm a bloody child,” Zayn muttered under his breath and stood up from his chair. He reached for another notepad and clipboard. “Who's on my team?”

“You've got Dana on camera and Marcus is your assistant,” Louis rattled off. “Now go and make good television.”

Zayn grumbled at Louis’ cheeky smile as he left the trailer. Introduction interviews. What a waste of time. It was done every series, but always left for the new producers on the show. If this was how the network was going to treat him, Zayn was going to comply. He was going to hate every single second of it but he was going to do it. He passed the craft service table and grabbed a packet of barbecue crisps before making his way to where he saw Dana setting up her camera by the edge of the garden, next to the outdoor hot tub. How romantic. The lights and microphones were already set up, just now waiting for Zayn to take his seat while Marcus ran around like a chicken with a missing head trying to wrangle up whatever contestant Zayn was supposed to interview.

He skimmed his clipboard, a list of everyone he was going to be speaking to that day and in what order. Luckily it wasn't all twenty five guys, and another small miracle was that his interviews were ending with Harry. This was an excellent way to manipulate the situation, getting everyone on Harry's side and falling in love with him just like Liam was going to.

Zayn learned quickly that a majority of the guys were in over their own head with joining the show. None of them admitted to watching the show before hand so they had no idea what they got themselves into. It was all blind optimism on their part. Everyone was excited to get to know Liam and hopefully find true love along the way. Gag. The mundane conversations with the first four contestants reminded Zayn why he started drinking in the first place. Thank god for Chad.

Chad was the contestant Louis chose to win the entire show. Chad was twenty two from Liverpool, just finished his studies at uni, graduating with a degree in early education. He wanted to be a special education teacher. Something to pull at the heartstrings of the country, nice job lad. Chad was the perfect example of someone who peaked too early in life but was still striving to get back to who he once was. He just kept rambling on and on about his gym routine and his protein powder, without Zayn even asking a single question. He just looked into the camera and kept talking.

Dana and Marcus looked over at Zayn and rolled their eyes, he understood completely. No wonder why Louis liked this guy, he was going to be this series villain, everyone was going to love to hate him. If he didn't win Liam's heart he was going to be next series suitor, no doubt about it.

Things started to turn interesting when Zayn finally got a word in edgewise, finally asking Chad about Liam. Chad smiled widely at the camera and began to talk on and on about Liam and his money. Jackpot. Gold digger. It was obvious that he couldn't care less about Liam as a person, just saw dollar signs when he looked at the bloke. He just kept going on and on about Liam and Payne enterprises, his father's company. Probably spoke all about it in one breath, impressive.

When Zayn finally got to speak again he asked Chad if he was excited about the potential to fall in love with Liam. Chad shrugged his shoulders, unsure but complied and said yes. It was clear to Zayn that this guy was clearly here for all the wrong reasons. You're welcome England.

Thank god for Harry. After Zayn wrapped up his interview with Chad he knew Harry was next to speak to. They took a five minute break to ease their now hurting heads before Marcus scurried off to get Harry. It was a small blessing talking to Harry. He greeted everyone with respect and a firm handshake along with his blinding smile. Zayn knew how to work this interview perfectly, despite the fact that he despised doing the actual interviewing. The interview started with the standard questions, asking Harry about his life, how he grew up and whatnot. Zayn wrote furiously as Harry answered, even though he spoke slow and in circles sometimes. Harry had a pretty standard life growing up, his parents divorced when he was young but they still remained friends and respected each other. He had an older sister that he hailed as is best friend and his idol, alongside David Bowie and Mick Jagger.

Nothing was setting Harry apart from all the other lads. Zayn was trying, or at least he seemed like he was trying. Half of him wanted to go back to his car and sleep until he had a paycheck in his bank but he sadly knew that the only way he was going to get paid was if he actually did some work. Whatever. Zayn zoned out when Harry started to talk about the sweet old ladies that worked with him in the bakery back in Cheshire. How wholesome. Yawn. There had to be something, anything that set Harry apart. Something that Zayn could use to his advantage.

“How did you really feel when you found out this year's suitor was the infamous Liam Payne?” Marcus asked.

Zayn cut his eyes over at his assistant, trying to quickly figure out who allowed him to speak. That's right. No one did. Why did he get the idea that he was allowed to add his two cents? Rookies.

“Honestly?” Harry hesitantly asked, looking past the camera and directly at Zayn. He had a skewed smile on his face and his posture got tense right before their eyes. A very different version than the Harry they met only a day ago.

“This is a safe and honest place, Harry,” Zayn assured him, trying not to choke on his words. What a crock of shit. If it got the kid to open up and make good television, Zayn was going to tell him anything he wanted to hear.

Harry gave them a quick, reassuring nod before visibly swallowing, shaking his hair away from his face. He kept fidgeting in his seat, clearly anxious. He let out an audible exhale, nodding once more. “I don't like to judge people based on preconceived notions, especially based on things that get written in The Sun. But you can't hide from the constant noise that is Liam Payne.”

“So you've heard of him before?” Zayn laughed. This was better than what he expected to get out of Harry. Ideas were already brewing in his head, Louis was going to kiss the ground he walked on after this interview.

“You have to live under a rock not to have heard of him,” he guffawed. “I didn't sign up for this show to be someone's babysitter or therapist. I came here for love and a potential husband.”

“How did you really feel after you stepped out of the limo?” Zayn continued to prompt him. In Zayn's short time around Harry he realized once you got him to open up, he never stopped. He'd talk your ear off, which always made for good television.

“He's fit,” he began, laughing at himself as he spoke. “That's a given. I was umm, I was definitely apprehensive at first. Nervous of course. What was I going to say and all that. Even thought about getting back in the car and heading back to the airport, honestly.”

“What changed? Why did you stick around and accept the rose?” Zayn looked around briefly, Dana had zoomed in, making sure the camera read Harry's face perfectly. Marcus was standing off to the side, hanging on to every word that fell out Harry's mouth. This couldn't have gone any better for Zayn.

“He laughed,” he replied, shrugging. “My stupid, corny joke got an honest to God laugh out of Liam Payne. Usually I get an eye roll or a pity chuckle, I'm use to that. But an honest laugh from probably the most hated celebrity in the U.K. is not something you expect everyday.”

“And now?”

“Now I want to get to know him,” Harry continued, a blush creeping up on his cheeks. It was endearing, if you were into that sort of crap. Zayn wasn't, but millions of lonely housewives definitely were into that sort of thing. “I still want to find love, I'm an optimist like that. I'm really looking forward to getting to know Liam and see where it goes. I'll still be guarded, everyone would be in my situation. But I-I'll be ready for what's to come.”

Harry said his goodbyes and shook everyone's hand before scurrying back towards the mansion. Marcus and Dana cleaned up the set while Zayn relished in the moment of silence he finally got, another opportunity to sneak off set to have a cigarette break. Like the night before he walked toward the front gate and leaned up against the brick wall. The day had just begun and he was ready to pack it up and call it a day. Last night lasted forever but today was the first elimination, they were going to say goodbye to five contestants. At least Harry was safe, everyone else was going to have to run around pleading their case before Liam made his final decision. Louis usually threatened the suitors livelihood to get his way, but they listened to him anyway. It was the calm before the inevitable storm.

Zayn tried to rest his eyes and just enjoy his alone time before inevitably going back to the production truck and helping Louis construct more of a cohesive storyline. It's was obvious from today's filming that Chad was going to be the villain and Harry was going to be the guy everyone rooted for. It boasted well for Zayn, he already had the money he was going to get spent. Maybe find a place to live, pay back Adam, and lastly go on a drinking binge to celebrate all the money he had just won. Priorities. He inhaled another drag of his cigarette as his walkie talkie started to make a static like noise. He couldn't hear what was being said but Zayn knew it was Louis more than likely looking for him. Dana probably handed over the footage and Marcus was probably just standing behind Louis looking like the lost puppy he was. Pathetic.

He dragged himself back up the graveled path, his mouth tasting stale from inhaling his cigarette so quickly. Made him feel dizzy, a feeling Zayn more than welcomed. The craft service table was restocked so he grabbed a pack of barbecue crisps, breakfast of champions. Or was it lunch? Who knew and who cares honestly. Today was going to run just as long as the day before so whatever sustenance Zayn could get he was going to take.

He walked up the stairs of the production trailer and saw Louis sitting in front of the row of monitors. Empty paper cups that held his tea were scattered all around him. If Zayn looked closely he could see a rolled joint tucked behind his ear. So it was that kind of morning. Stressful. Louis rarely smoked, usually only during the final rose ceremony when everything around them was coming to a crashing end. Already contemplating smoking on day two? It was going to be a long next couple of weeks for all of them. He continued his walk up to his friend, noticing his notepad was filled with nonsense writings, none of really looked like it made much sense.

“Already thinking about smoking?” Zayn asked, pulling out the metal seat and sitting down next to Louis.

Louis jumped a little at the voice, shaking his head. “Confiscated it from Mia, caught her rolling it outside the makeup trailer. Amateur.”

“Now you're hall monitor,” he laughed, flipping through the pages of Louis's book. Still none of it looked like it made much sense. Just names and dates and times scribbled in his illegible handwriting. Typical Louis.

“Someone has to be,” he joked. “So I see the interviews went well. Chad doing Chad things. Styles being a good Boy Scout.”

“He's gonna win Lou, just you wait,” Zayn teased, eyes scanning the monitors in front of him. Watching the live footage of what was happening in the mansion. Nothing exciting. Some of the lads breaking off into smaller groups, patiently waiting for elimination later that night. “Who's leaving us tonight?”

“No idea,” Louis scoffed with a shrug. “Payne doesn't want to leave his guest house to interact with anyone and no one can get in and talk to him about tonight.”

“Why do we pay Maxine?” He asked. “Some personal assistant she is. Can't keep one measly client in line.”

“She'll be fired by weeks end,” Louis wagered. “Mark my words, Malik.”

Zayn spun in his seat, trying to do anything to occupy his mind. That was one major downfall of production, all the mindless downtime they had. When they were filming or even doing interviews, time seemed to fly by. When there was nothing to do, there literally was nothing to do. You just hoped and prayed something exciting was happening in the house that would hopefully occupy your time for a few minutes.

That's what got Zayn in trouble during the last series. All the downtime and the copious amounts of alcohol around the set. It was a slippery slope that never led anywhere good. Low ranking assistants or producers always had a reason to party, it was the first job for most of them. The rest of them drank just to pass the time. Days blurred into night and before long eight weeks had passed and the production was over. Zayn was always busy last series but he never was one to turn down a free drink. The winters in the U.K. were brutal and alcohol was always a quick way to warm him up.

He spun in his chair once more and played with the fringe by Louis eye, doing anything to distract his friend from his job. Louis took this way too seriously for someone who always scoffed at his job. He was the first one to claim he didn't need this job but was always the most diligent at doing it. It made absolutely no sense. Louis absentmindedly swatted his hand away, not looking away from his work. He was use to Zayn and his nervous hands, always having to fiddle with something to occupy his thoughts. His thoughts that usually got him in trouble, hence the series finale last year.

Zayn was tempted to steal the blunt behind Louis's ear and smoke it to calm himself down. They had plenty of munchies around set to satisfy his eventual hunger as well. Smoking alone wasn't fun though, no one to laugh with when something mundane became hysterical. Pointing and laughing at interns who worked too hard for next to no pay was pretty fun once you were high. None of them were that funny sober and especially when you were alone. Zayn just kept spinning in his chair, glancing at the monitors with every turn.

The tension was escalating due to the elimination that night. People who scampering off, searching for Liam to plead their case. Too bad Liam was nowhere to be found, well, except to the production crew. He was sleeping soundly in his flat down the road. It was still early in the production phase and Liam was turning out to be the most difficult suitor they would ever have. Why be here if you didn't want to participate in the process? Did he not realize how hard it was to make a television show when the star refused to cooperate? Zayn almost felt sorry for Liam’s person assistant, she was sitting around doing nothing as well. Her job was to keep Liam in check, make sure he was on set when he was supposed to, participating on dates, acting like he was actually interested in the whole process. Right now she was sitting on the couch in Liam’s little house, on her phone, looking just as bored as Zayn currently felt. At least somebody could commiserate with him.

After what felt like endless time passing, Liam woke up and emerged from his home. Elimination was in less than two hours and it was about time he started to mingle with the contestants. Niall arrived on set and had his obligatory conversation with Liam in front of the cameras. Asking him how he was feeling and if he was still making any final minute decisions. He just shrugged his shoulders, a clear sign that he couldn't care less about what was going on around him. Figures. Niall escorted Liam into the mansion that held the contestants and it was clear he was way out of his element, immediately going tense and looking around for some sort of help. It was Liam's first time in a room with all twenty five men vying for his time and heart. It was bound to be overwhelming but as Zayn watched the monitors he had to laugh, he signed up for this. What was he really expecting? Liam's misery aside, Zayn's task was to watch for any behind the scenes drama. Louis was watching the monitors as well, barking orders into his walkie talkie to anyone who would listen.

Outside the trailer Zayn could hear people running around, sounding a little panicked and out of breath. Elimination night was a stressful day for everyone, there were a lot of little details that needed to be ironed out quickly and efficiently. The main room in the mansion still needed to be vacuumed, the pictures of all the contestants for Liam to sulk and look at before he made his final decision wasn't complete either. And if Zayn listened closely to the noise outside, the florist that was supposed to deliver all the roses Liam would be handing out was stuck in traffic. So everything was going exactly according to plan.

Liam was slowly starting to mingle with the contestants, oddly making sure Harry was never far from him. Harry, the only one who didn't have to worry about his fate. That was good for Zayn though, made his job that much easier. Chad tried to weasel his way into almost every conversation Liam had the courage to have. He wanted to make sure his presence was known. It was as if he knew he was destined to become the villain this series. Oh well. Louis stood up from where he still sat next to Zayn and sighed, rubbing at his temples with a pinched looked on his face. Yep, it was elimination night. He took the blunt from behind his ear and inhaled its scent, taking a deeper breath than Zayn would've recommended. Louis put the blunt back behind his ear and patted at his pants pockets, searching for something clearly.

“Got your light?” Louis asked looking down at him.

Zayn's eyebrows shot up, curious. “Why?”

“Get the fuck over yourself, Malik,” he spat out. “I need to smoke and you're the only one I know that's a damn chimney around here. So, you got your light or no?”

“Of course,” he answered and stood up as well, pulling his lighter from his back pocket. “Aren't we supposed to be working?”

“The show’s already fucked, can't get much worse in the time we're gone,” Louis explained with a pained laugh. That once sentence made everything painfully obvious for Zayn. Louis was stressed more than he had ever been, it wasn't just first elimination stress. It was career stress.

“The front gate is the best place to umm to smoke,” Zayn pointed out as both men made their way out the production trailer. “That's where I go to smoke anyway.”

Zayn Malik wasn't afraid to admit he was in love with Louis Tomlinson. Okay, maybe he was and maybe it was the weed talking for him. Was he talking? Or was his inner monologue just running rampant as usual. He just shrugged his shoulders and inhaled deeply, feeling the smoke burn down his throat and into his lungs. It was a good feeling, a welcomed feeling. Louis was a trip when he was baked, giggling behind his hand, blue eyes bright but glassy. If they weren't coworkers Zayn could definitely see them as friends outside the chaos of the show. Yeah, it was definitely the weed talking for him. Zayn didn't need friends, didn't need to bring anyone into his already messed up world. He was damaged goods, been told that most his life. Now he was just living up to his potential. The air around them was getting thick and had a stickiness attached to it. As Zayn passed the blunt back over to Louis he realized he was going to need a shower soon. How he was going to make that happen was something he needed to think about. Obviously his car didn't come with one and there were too many cameras in the contestants mansion to sneak one in unnoticed. He couldn't ask Niall or Louis because that'll be an obvious dead giveaway. Zayn just guessed that'll be another thing to add to his growing list of problems. Wasn't weed supposed to calm you down not heighten one's anxiety? Zayn made a mental note to find Mia and scold her on supplying sloppy weed.

By the time they made their way back to the production truck the buzzing on Louis's walkie talkie finally subsided, hopefully meaning whatever was wrong finally got fixed. Zayn spotted a florist truck pulling up behind them as they walked up from the front gate, the corsages had arrived. The cleaning supplies were parked in front of the mansion, the handymen walking directly behind them to put the final touches on the rooms. Everything was so last minute but at least it was finally coming together. It even looked like Liam was actually enjoying himself amongst the contestants, Harry still not far from his side. He was talking and looked genuine to everyone he spoke to. Chad puffed up his chest and tried to looked broader than normal, maybe a little bit too intimidating but Liam seemed to be buying it. Niall was seen in the background just his eyes following Liam around the room, gauging everything that was happening. Soon after Chad weaseled his way into Liam's personal space Harry was quickly forgotten. From where Zayn was sitting he could see Louis shit-eating grin, very proud of his choice this series, obviously. Zayn paid him no mind, just  because Chad was looking good now didn't mean he was receiving a rose tonight. Right on cue Niall pulled Liam aside and into another room for them to discuss all his options and get his thoughts on the gentlemen vying for his heart and affection. He seemed sincere while he spoke to Niall, he was still the worst suitor in the shows entire history but at least he was finally trying.

Like every rose ceremony in the shows history, Louis gathered all the producers who weren't supposed to be on set into the largest production truck they had. Everyone waited with bated breath as Liam entered the main room again and waited for the elimination to begin. Louis quickly barked orders into his walkie talkie, making sure all the camera operators were ready and a low ranking producer was standing by the five limousines that were going to send the sacked contestants away. Everyone in the trailer had a stake in this ceremony, they wanted the guy they chose to stay. The longer the contestant stayed, the more chances they had at collecting money. Zayn wasn't nervous, his boy Harry was safe. Harry stood in the back and smiled widely at Liam, proudly showing off his rose that was still pinned to his jacket. Niall was a professional like always, moving everything along when it was obviously getting stagnant. Elimination was supposed to be dramatic and over the top but it seemed as if no one really got that memo. Luckily Niall knew how to make those moments happen at the drop of a hat. He pulled Liam aside which confused the room, telling him that he didn't have to eliminate just five, if he felt someone else needed to go it was his choice. Everyone back in the production truck knew that never happened, most suitors stuck by the shows rules but it always good to throw a wrench in their plans once in awhile. Make this fresh and interesting, especially for the viewers at home. Liam followed the rules as predicted and eliminated his five guys. The last one to receive a rose was Chad, which spooked Louis for a few tense minutes. Everyone in the production truck just started at him as he looked at the monitor.

“Alright everyone,” Louis called to attention. “I need these exit interviews to be edited and ready for post production by morning. I also need Liam's interview done first thing tomorrow morning. Everyone's dismissed.”

Everyone in the truck gathered their belongings and made their way out the truck with their tasks for the next morning. Zayn knew he wasn't going to be dismissed though, Louis always sticking him with someone mindless to do so he wasn't working alone all night. Zayn just stayed seated watching the monitors as the remaining twenty contestants and Liam cheered each other with an expensive bottle of champagne that really made Zayn feel parched.

“Malik,” Louis voice cut through his thoughts. “You're dismissed too.”

“W-what?” He asked, slowly standing up and very shocked. “What happened to me not getting a second unit replacement for the night shifts?”

Louis shrugged his shoulders. “I don't make the rules bro, I just got to follow the nextworks orders and I got new orders this morning. You're free to go home for the night.”

“Yea,” he nodded in agreement, none of it making sense. All he cared about was the he was free now and now had a new mystery job to start in the morning. Zayn waved to Louis as he gathered his things and made his way out the truck, gearing up for the trek up the hill to where he parked his car.

Another reckless night of sleep left Zayn more cranky than usual. He was running out of clean clothes and cologne, meaning he was going to either need money from Louis soon or somehow sneak into wardrobe and borrow a few things for himself. He used the last of his mouthwash and quickly changed into whatever smelt the cleanest before walking down the hill toward the mansion. All Zayn could think about was his new job that he was supposed to start today. It was an order from the network, which usually meant he was going to hate it. He'd been on his best behavior so far so what punishment was he going to be strapped with now. Zayn checked his phone quickly, luckily he was able to charge it at work so it still was on, and ignored another message from Adam. It was too early in the morning to start with him. Okay, so maybe Zayn had ignored close to thirty messages from his former roommate but he had other priorities at the moment. Work was more important than an useless argument. Zayn walked past the front gate and snuffed out his cigarette on the brick wall before being bombarded with the massive day ahead of him. Today Liam was supposed to take ten of the contestants on their first date, tomorrow the other ten were set to get their turn. No doubt Louis spent all night concocting ideas of where they'd go and who was the lucky ten to go out with Liam first. If Zayn closed his eyes for a minute he could see Louis sitting in his truck writing in his notebook like a madman coming up with perfect ideas and scenarios for the day. It was so bizarre that Louis was so dedicated to a job he hated.

“Just the lad I wanted to see,” Louis greeted him, empty styrofoam teas cups littering his desk. Guess it was another long night of editing and scheming. “Come in Malik, we need to talk.”

Zayn eyes Louis cautiously as he took a seat where he usually sat next to Louis. “Lou, what's up? Why do I feel like I need to be nervous about my job.”

“You still have a job,” he quickly assured him. “Just not as a producer anymore.”

“Lou,” he said his friends name slowly, almost threatening. “What’s my new job?”

“The network feels that you being a producer may be too stressful, especially after last series incident,” he began, speaking calmly, which wasn’t reassuring at all for Zayn. “They want you to be Liam’s personal assistant.”

“No!”

“Zayn-”

“Absolutely not!” Zayn protested again. “I rather be fired than demoted to that shitty position. I can’t-won’t be Liam Payne’s bloody assistant.”

“Bro,” Louis soothly tried to speak to him. Keep the chaos and anger to a minimum. “It’s an easy job and you keep the same pay.”

“Then you do it,” Zayn spat at him. “If it’s so easy, you take the job, leave me as producer.”

“Zayn,” he repeated, his voice still calm. “You know I can’t do that.”

“What happened to Maxine?” Zayn asked, grabbing an empty styrofoam cup and pulling it apart, doing anything to occupy his hands. His blood was boiling and he was in desperate need of a cigarette or a drink. There had to be leftover champagne somewhere on set. “She was doing a fine job yesterday.”

“She let Liam sleep all day yesterday,” Louis scoffed. “He’s supposed to be interacting, pretending he gives a shit about this process and she wasn’t fulfilling her job duties.”

“And I will?” Zayn sneered, grabbing another cup to rip apart. “Lou, come on bro, really?”

“I've got orders to follow too,” he explained. “I wanted my partner in crime by my side all series but I don't make the rules, Malik.”

Zayn let out a sigh, dropping the cup back on the table to harshly scrub at his face. “I've really got to be this blokes assistant?”

“It's only for seven weeks,” Louis tried to lighten the situation.

“Yay,” he replied dryly. Zayn stood up and took the walkie talkie that was being handed to him, turning it on and hearing the static crackle. “Where's the pain in the ass anyway?”

“He just woke up, today is date day,” Louis informed him. “I just need him showered and dressed and in the main room within an hour, can you do that?”

“I think I can get a grown man to follow rules,” Zayn huffed, adjusting the walkie talkie on his belt and making his way out the truck.

Out of all the things Zayn thought Louis was going to say to him, being Liam's assistant wasn't one of them. That was so far from his mind he never he thought of it. Now he was stuck doing the one job he despised the most. He was now a glorified babysitter, wasting his day away making sure a grown man lived up to his end of the bargain. The small upside to it all was now Zayn had access to a shower. Cameras were hardly in Liam's part of the mansion, only the ones in his bedroom and living quarters. Maybe, just maybe, Zayn could sneak in a shower while Liam slept or got dressed. It seemed like a smart idea to Zayn. Right now he had other things to worry about, pretending to give a shit about Liam and making sure he didn't jeopardize the filming of the series once again.

“What do you want?” Liam spat out as soon as Zayn walked into the home. “I'm not hiding any limo drivers in my room.”

“I know,” Zayn told him. “There's cameras in your room, we would've known by now if that was the case.”

“So, what do you want?” He repeated. Liam was just casually lounging on the sofa, today's paper and a fruit platter on the coffee table in front of him. He picked up a strawberry and popped it into his mouth, still staring at Zayn. “Hello. I asked you a question.”

“I'm your-your new assistant,” he finally answered, words getting stuck in his throat, his mouth suddenly dry.

Liam raised his eyebrows in amusement, nodding his head like he was trying to understand this new development. He scratched at his bare stomach and ate another strawberry. “Producing got to be too much for you?”

It took all Zayn had inside of him to not roll his eyes and spit venom at Liam. “You're too much to handle for one little girl it seemed. Needed someone with balls to do the job.”

“Clearly,” he smirked, still raising an eyebrow. “Want some fruit?”

“Excuse me?” Zayn asked, stunned at the sudden change of atmosphere around him. Weren't they just arguing seconds ago?

“Do you want some fruit to eat?” Liam repeated slowly for Zayn to comprehend. “I always get a fruit platter in the morning and can never finish it, Maxine was allergic so I always had to dump the leftovers. You hungry?”

Zayn looked around the room, waiting for someone to pop out of a room or closet and wake him up. What the hell had just happened? Wasn't Liam Payne supposed to be a loathsome rich boy that wasted away daddy's money with no care in the world? “I-I’m good, thanks.”

“Suit yourself,” he shrugged his shoulders and went back to eating and reading his paper, sipping at his coffee cup occasionally.

“Actually,” Zayn spoke up. “I know this is gonna sound odd but umm can I use your shower?”

“Yeah, sure,” he told him, never looking up from his paper. “I've gotta hop in myself soon but you're more than welcome to use it now.”

“Thanks,” he told him and made his way towards the bathroom. A part of him was still stunned over Liam's kindness toward him but he was too excited to finally get a shower to even dwell on it for much longer than a minute.

The moment Zayn stepped into the lush bathroom he let out a massive sigh of relief. He'd been concerned over where he was going to find a shower for close to a week now and in one hour that matter had been solved. A little victory that he wasn't going to deny himself. The shower itself was grand and immaculate. It was made entirely of glass and could probably fit his entire family if he tried. The floor was lined with some type of marble. The entire room looked like it belonged in some travel advert he would see in a magazine at a doctors office. He disrobed and turned the water on to as hot as he knew he could handle. He just needed to scrub and burn every inch of his skin off, start fresh somehow. As he stepped into the large shower he looked around and saw all the expensive shit Liam had littering the room. Body washes, shampoos, and conditioners that cost more than Zayn made in his entire life. Lotions that were made from vanilla beans in the middle of South America, random shit if you asked Zayn. Too fancy for his blood. That didn't mean he wasn't going to use them. He put his head under the powerful shower spray and just let the water wash over him, make him lose some of the tension in his shoulders. He finally felt relaxed for the first time in a long time, well, as relaxed as he could feel at that exact moment. It felt good and this was the first time in a long time he allowed himself to feel that way. He kept his eyes closed as the water kept beating down on him.

“Budge over.”

Zayn's eye shot open at the voice. He turned his head at the sound, wiping away the condensation that built up on the glass. “L-Liam!”

“I need to shower as well, so either budge over or get out,” Liam flatly told him.

“I-I just got in here,” Zayn sputtered out, quickly moving his hands to cover himself up, not that Liam could see anything seeing as Zayn’s front  was facing away from him. “Can't you wait?”

“I've got a busy day, ten lads waiting on me today,” he laughed, toeing off his socks and scratching at his bare stomach. He moved around the room, grabbing a towel out of the cupboard and placing it on the edge of the sink, grabbing a toiletry bag and placing it alongside the towel. “You moving or am I joining you?”

Zayn kept standing there, not really knowing what to say at this point. He was rarely speechless but now this was the second time today his words got lost in his throat. He couldn't give up this perfect opportunity at a well needed shower though. “Fine, get in. But I swear to god if you touch me in any way I'll break your fingers.”

“Deal,” Liam agreed with a smirk. “Turn around so I can get naked, no looking Mr. Producer.”

“It's Zayn,” he told him and turned back around, letting the water beat down on him again, trying to enjoy the final moments alone in the shower.

The door opened letting a rush of cold air enter the hot stall momentarily. Liam stood behind Zayn, making sure there was a respectable distance between them. “What?”

“My name is Zayn,” he introduced himself, moving his head so it was no longer under the rush of water. “Kind of feels appropriate to introduce myself to you now.”

“Sure,” Liam shrugged off his introduction. “You gonna hog all the water or do I have to physically move you?”

“Y-yeah, sorry,” he sheepishly apologized not really knowing how to maneuver around. He still needed to finish his shower but he didn't want hog up all the hot water and cause another meaningless argument with Liam. “I’ll just move and you can do whatever you needed to do.”

“Unless you had other plans in here besides showering,” Liam cheekily replied, smirking. He turned his head so he was looking directly at Zayn as he spoke.

Zayn's mouth hung open at Liam's reply, water falling down his face and easily into his mouth. Once again he was at a loss for words. There was the despicable Liam Payne he was waiting for, the one with the horrible reputation and even worse attitude. “Let's just fucking shower, okay mate.”

“Fine by me,” Liam said.

Zayn had experienced many awkward moments in his life, that was just apart of everyone's life it seemed. Coming out to his parents and older sister when he was fifteen was pretty awkward, especially when they clearly already knew, finding gay porn on his computer months before. The coming out wasn't awkward it was the fact that he kept remembering that his parents knew he watched porn. So every time Zayn wanted to watch porn he was constantly reminded that his parents knew what he was doing. As soon as the video began the awkwardness quickly disappeared. Another awkward moment was his first day at university. He confidently walked into his lecture, taking a seat in the middle row and pulled out his laptop, ready to conquer higher education. That was until halfway through the class he realized he was in the wrong room. He was supposed to be in a communication class but somehow ended up in business management. How he didn't realize he was in the wrong class was beyond him. He didn't want to feel like a complete ass so Zayn continued to sit through the class, even took notes and answered questions when he was called on. Fake it until he made it. That was a motto that stuck with him his entire life. Now sharing a shower with Liam Payne had to be the most awkward moment of his professional career. He had showered with other men before, but that was always intimate, this was the complete opposite. Every time their elbows or toes would accidentally brush up against each other one of them would jump in shock. They did quickly find a rhythm, thankfully, Zayn washed his body while Liam lathered up and they would switch so Zayn could shampoo his hair. The one main rule was eyes remained up and no one looked or touched anything. It was awkward and effective.

“Get dressed in your room and I'll finish in here. Meet me outside in twenty,” Zayn barked out the order. He had gotten out the shower first, walking fast to the cupboard to retrieve a towel for himself that he immediately put around his waist.

“Yes sir,” Liam laughed as he walked out the shower and towards his stuff. The little shit purposely walked around the room without a towel on or anything to cover himself up. Zayn was trying to not be a creep during the shower, keeping his eyes up and away from seeing anything. Now it was kind of hard, in more ways than one. “Liking the free show?”

“W-what? No, gross. Don't be such a dick Payne,” Zayn spat out, hating the he clearly got caught. He felt a blush creeping up his back and cheeks so he turned his head and collected his clothes off the closed toilet seat lid. “Ten minutes, outside.”

Zayn let out a small sigh of relief once Liam exited the room. The last fifteen minutes had been an absolute mess. Showering with someone who was now technically your boss was not a good way to make a first impression, no matter how badly Zayn hated his job. He needed this job because it was attached to a lot of money that'll help him out of his current mess. He had to brush those thoughts aside as he got dressed, fixing his walkie talkie and turning it back on. He immediately heard Louis barking at the producers who were already en route to the location of today's date. He checked his reflection quickly one last time in the mirror before leaving the room and waiting for Liam in the foyer.

Liam emerged from his room moments later looking as ready as he'll ever be for the day ahead of him. As the two of them made their way to the main house Zayn rattled off the details of the day. Liam was to go on his first group date with ten of the contestants, the date was a tour of ancient castles in Wales. Boring, but the location of the date was the least of everyone's problems. The production crew, especially Louis, just hoped Liam would finally start to cooperate with the whole process. It was now Zayn's job to make sure Liam cooperated, just yesterday he was laughing at Maxine's agony. She was literally running around looking for Liam and when she did find him she was dragging her feet behind him. Now Zayn was responsible for this grown man, a grown man that acted like an overgrown child, but a grown man nonetheless.

The tour of the castles were extremely boring. Some of the contestants seemed like they were actually enjoying themselves. Louis being the perfect mastermind had put both Chad and Harry in the same group. Chad was following Liam around like a lost puppy, but also trying to play cool. Harry was amazed by everything the guide said, talking to some of the other men and pointing out things that had been mentioned to them. He was probably the only one who was fully invested in the tour and Liam. The other contestants tried to strike up a conversation with Liam who looked unimpressed by everything around him. As much as he hated to admit it, Zayn felt the same. Everything around them was old and dusty, absolutely boring. Zayn just hoped this whole day could wrap by sooner, they had at least another hour or two and at least three more castles to visit. If he was alone on holiday this whole day would actually be fun but seeing it was for work, it was the most mundane thing he had ever done in his life.

A large part of Zayn wished he was back at production making fun of everything going on, like he and Louis had done every series. During dates was when he finally got some downtime, was able to relax and let other people do their jobs for once. That's what got him in trouble last year, all the downtime was when he'd search the mansion looking for alcohol. Now he was forced to work even when his brain was yelling at him to find something to numb himself. At least with Harry here Zayn was able to play this to his advantage. If he was now forced to be at Liam's beck and call he was going to use it to get himself handsomely rewarded.

“Liam,” Zayn called to him, trying to be discreet as they waited for their car to arrive to take them to the next location.

Liam was chatting with one of the contestants, Richie, who looked like he was hanging on Liam's every word. What a tosser. It was good for the show but not for Zayn's selfishness.

“Liam,” he called to him once more, clenching his jaw as he spoke to him. This was so embarrassing. He was willingly swallowing his pride and purposely talking to the guy, the least he could do was acknowledge him. What an asshole. “Payne!”

“Oh sorry,” he apologized, flashing Richie a quick smile in dismissal before walking towards Zayn. “Am I doing something wrong Mr. Producer?”

“I need you to talk to Harry,” Zayn instructed him, ignoring the not so cute nickname. He kicked a pebble that was by his boot, trying to get over the fact that he had to grovel at Liam's feet. Like his life wasn't a disaster already. “Interact with him. He's being patient waiting for you and you're off talking to everyone else.”

Liam turned his head and caught a quick glimpse of Harry who was standing by the castle's entrance talking to a few of the other contestants. He looked semi normal today, no over the top clothes or boots. His long hair was pushed out of his eyes and tied on top of his head. He was smiling wide and laughing at someone's jokes, dimples on full display. “I thought you weren't producing anymore?”

“I'm just looking out for the entire show,” he replied, trying his hardest to sound convincing. The show was the least of his worries but Liam could at least pretend he cared, especially towards Harry who he did give his first impression rose to just a few nights ago. “Each guy here if vying for your attention, you can't just talk to some and ignore the others.”

“Listen to me Zayn,” he began, stepping forward so he was almost nose to nose with Zayn, “this whole thing is happening on my terms. Got it? Without me you don't have a damn show so I do whatever I damn well please. Yeah?”

“There he is,” Zayn laughed with a shake of his head. He was not ever going to be intimidated by Liam Payne. “The pompous asshole that hides behind the bright smile and giggly laugh. Show that to the cameras, the entire country knows that guy already.”

Liam took a step back, not backing down but knowing when and where to pick his battles. “You know nothing about me, lackey. Be a good assistant and fetch me coffee, got it?”

Zayn had to take a deep breath and internally count to ten to calm himself. It was his first day on the job and punching Liam square in the jaw was more than likely frowned upon. It seemed like a good solution but probably not that effective. He clenched and unclenched his right hand, feeling it shake with the amount of tension he was holding. “Milk or sugar?”

“Black,” Liam smugly answered. “Grab one for Harry as well, okay? Thanks.”

For the rest of the date Zayn was seething, he knew that nice Liam wasn't going to last, that it was mostly for show. He was such a wanker it was even hard to fathom how he got through life without someone knocking him on his arse every single day. Pompous rich boy probably had daddy clean up all his messes. Not this time. Now he was stuck groveling to the country on national television by trying to prove he could he loved by complete strangers. Even seeing Liam be semi decent towards Harry wasn't enough to have Zayn feel better. He was stuck with this jerk for the next seven weeks, one of them was going to end up cracking and Zayn knew it wasn't going to be him. Something was going to have to change before all this was over. For now though Zayn had to plaster on his best fake smile that he learned to put on while working and muster up enough strength to get through the rest of the day. Tomorrow he had to do the same thing, different date but same scenario.

The car ride back to the mansion was tense and quiet, all the contestants crammed into a van while Liam and Zayn shared a car. Liam just scrolled through his phone, trying to occupy his time. Zayn decide to do the same, even when he knew his only messages came from Adam, which he was still ignoring. He did get a semi encouraging message from Louis at the beginning of the day, telling him to not let Liam get to him. He wasn't, he refused. It wasn't going to be easy to ignore someone he was stuck with by he'll learn to deal with it. He just had to keep looking at Liam as a paycheck like he always did with this job. He wasn't here to make friends or play nice, just show up, do his job and get paid. Simple as that.

Leaving the mansion at the end of the day was probably Zayn's highlight of the day. Turning around once he got down the hill and not seeing the massive home anymore made him crack a tiny smile. It felt like a massive weight was lifted off his shoulders. Even though he was doomed to have another night of restless sleep he was more than glad to leave for the day. He had to make sure Liam's alarm was set and we was back in his room before he was allowed to take off for the night. He unclipped his walkie talkie from his jeans and handed it to Louis with a strained looked on his face. It took almost all of Louis strength to not laugh in his face, that was obvious. He just had to grin and bare it, the network was obviously testing him and he refused to lose. Zayn refused to succumb to the added pressure he was getting. They wanted to see if he was going to crack, well, he wasn't. He'd been through enough in his life to not let one person or one show take him down. They had to work harder than they were if they expected Zayn Malik to buckle under the pressure.

Surprisingly sleep came easy that night, all the events of the day finally taking its toll on his body. He slept straight through until his alarm was blaring at five in the morning. Date days always started early, too early in Zayn's honest opinion. He dragged himself out of the car and changed into whatever he could toss together. Zayn tossed all his dirty clothes into his knapsack and dragged it with him to the mansion. Liam was set to wake up until seven, giving Zayn more than enough time to maybe do some laundry while the prince slept.

He stopped at the local coffee cart and got himself and Louis their daily tea. Without words being exchanged he handed Louis his tea and took his walkie talkie. It was way too early for anyone to be functioning. Zayn did catch a quick glimpse of what Louis was working on, he was piecing together the video from yesterday's activities. Liam trying to look cozy and comfortable around Harry and even Chad. Louis was a master at his job if he could briefly convince Zayn that Liam was maybe interested in the lads.

When Zayn entered Liam's apartment he noticed that nothing was out of place, meaning Liam stayed put after he left. Small miracle. Zayn dropped his knapsack by the laundry room door before heading to the kitchen. The production staff made sure everything was fully stocked at all time, anything Liam may need, they had ready for him. If Zayn was forced to play babysitter for the next few weeks he was going to enjoy its advantages. He had an hour and half to kill before Liam was supposed to wake up so he was going to relish in the silence while he could. He fixed himself a bowl of Weetabix, a meal he had almost everyday as a kid. If he tried he could still hear his mum sighing in defeat as he grabbed the box out of the cupboard instead of eating the extravagant meal she prepared each morning. Zayn even felt generous enough to wash his own dishes after eating, really not wanting to leave any evidence that he was there eating.

He exited the kitchen and grabbed his bag, walking into the laundry room. It look stocked pretty well, all the name brand detergents lined the walls. He tossed opened the machine and dumped everything from his bag in it, including the bag which was starting to smell like stale weed and crisps. Feeling bold, Zayn disrobed, leaving him standing in the room in just his Batman pants. Why not clean all his clothes while he was there? He tossed some detergent in the machine and turned it on. Now that he was almost completely naked he decided to remain in the laundry room, there was less chance of a camera catching him there. He just now needed to find something to do to kill the time.

Zayn opened the laundry room door as silently as possible before tip toeing into the main room, searching for the newspaper Liam had delivered to him each morning. If he was going to hole himself up in the room he might as well catch up on the daily news. He spotted the paper grabbing it off the coffee table and made his way back to the laundry room, closing the door behind him. The paper was boring, nothing exciting reported about. Wales was a dull country from the sounds of it. Looked absolutely gorgeous on a travel brochure but that was its only appeal obviously. There was a small a small article about the filming of their show and how multi millionaire playboy Liam Payne had taken some of his lucky contestants on a tour of some of the finest castles the Welsh countryside had to offer. Gag. Zayn had a feeling that either Liam or his father had a hand in paying off the journalist to make him sound like a decent human being, which was the furthest from the truth. He did the Sudoku puzzle that was in the paper with a pen he had found in his jeans pocket when he was taking them off to wash them. That at least took up a good five minutes of his time. Other than that he was absolutely bored. Watching clothes wash was very dull and not in the least bit exciting.

“Well, well, well. What is this?”

Zayn dropped the pen from his hand, he was starting to doodle along the edges of the paper in boredom. “Shit. Liam!”

“Two days in a row,” he replied cheekily, a smirk on his face. He was standing by the door, leaning against the frame. His hair was askew, a clear indication that he just woken up. He was dressed similarly to Zayn, in just his pants, probably designer. “I'm a lucky man.”

“You're a gross man,” Zayn spat at him. “What are you doing awake anyway? Your alarm isn't set from another hour.”

“I smelt the soap,” he shrugged. “And heard footsteps in the hall. Assumed it was a clean thief or the laundry police. Boy am I glad to know it was you.”

“Leave,” Zayn told him, not turning from where he was standing, leaning up against the machine, the newspaper on top where it shook periodically from the wash.

Liam took a few steps forward so he was officially in the room. “Mr. Producer why are you cleaning your clothes in my laundry room? Your posh digs provided to you don't have one or something?”

“We all don't have daddy's money get us everything we want,” Zayn told him, mentally scolding himself for even giving into Liam's clear taunts. “Can you just leave so I can finish?”

“Aww Zaynie,” he continued to taunt him, walking closer so he was directly standing behind Zayn. “You don't want me to stay? I'm sad. I thought we were a team now.”

“We were never a team,” Zayn scoffed at him, turning his head so his eyes followed Liam's every move. “You're a pathetic excuse for a person and I'm here to make sure you don't continue to fuck up. Simple as that.”

Liam pouted which actually looked cute on him if Zayn was to actually care. His hair was still messy, bed head at its finest. His pants riding low from Liam trying to fix them so much after the kept falling from him walking around the room. Liam snaked his arms around Zayn's waist feeling the goosebumps on his skin as soon as they made contact. “Such a dutiful worker Mr. Producer.”

“Don't touch me,” he shrieked, pushing Liam's arms off of him and shoving him even further back. “I can sue you for sexual harassment buddy.”

“Fine,” Liam gave in, arms raised in a sign of surrender. “You win this round.”

“Wha-what's that supposed to mean?” Zayn asked, dumbfounded by Liam's boldness. He turned fully around so his back was now leaning up against the washing machine, arms crossed over his chest, trying to cover up at least a little bit.

“You'll eventually see,” he promised with a wink. He took a swift step towards Zayn, running his finger along the elastic band of his pants, more goosebumps rising immediately. “Enjoy your laundry. Nice pants by the way.”

“Bloody prick!” Zayn shouted as Liam left the room, closing the door behind him.

Zayn kept cursing Liam's name as he took his clothes out of the washing machine and placed them in the dryer. No one has ever gotten under his skin like this, no one in his entire life and Zayn had three sisters he use to live with. Even on their worst days Adam never made Zayn feel like he wanted to punch him directly in the face over and over until he was unrecognizable. The only upside was that it looked like Liam knew his limits, knew when he pushed Zayn's buttons because he quickly backed off right after. If Liam was like this with him he could only imagine how he acted in his everyday life, when he wasn't around the ass kissers he called friends. The press had dubbed them the Wolverhampton Washups. It was Liam surrounding himself with lads from his hometown who desperately tried to make it big in life before deciding to sponge off of Liam and his fame and money. Stand up guys, really. That's why Zayn didn't have any friends, everyone nowadays had ulterior motives when they met him. They didn't see him as a person, especially after he mentioned what he did for a living. They all assumed his job title came with a fat paycheck and all the luxuries working in television allegedly came with. Perks and luxuries? That was all an illusion. Louis was the only one who got paid handsomely, besides Niall and everyone at the network. Everyone else got paid enough to survive, which was still a crock of shit. Zayn was currently living in his car and washing his clothes in the suitors home, he clearly didn't get paid enough to survive.

The second the dryer buzzed indicating it was done Zayn quickly grabbed his clothes and put them back in his knapsack. He grabbed at random shirt, jeans, and socks and threw them on. He stuffed his feet into his boots, lacing them up before taking a deep breath. Seeing that Liam was now awake he had to officially start work. He clipped his walkie talkie on his jeans and turned it on, hearing the static crackling almost automatically. It was time to start his day. He had about a half hour until Liam had to emerge from his home and get in the car and head to his next date. Joy. A whole half hour where he had to spend time with Liam. He grabbed the newspaper off the top of the washer machine, throwing his knapsack over his shoulder and exiting the laundry room. He headed towards the living area to drop off his bag and the paper on the coffee table, Liam nowhere in sight. The shower wasn't on so that clearly meant he was somewhere else in the home being a pain in the ass. Zayn's stomach growled, packets of barbecue crisps clearly weren't nutritional enough to survive. He decided to give in and make his way into the kitchen. Zayn knew the refrigerator was going to be stacked with a lot of food and he might as well indulge in it. Part of Zayn's job was to write a shopping list every week for someone to go and shop for whatever Liam needed. He walked into the kitchen and immediately regretted it. In front of the stove, still in just in his pants, stood Liam cooking. Cooking what Zayn didn't know but his stomach growled again so it must've seemed good. He hung his head as he made his way to the fridge to grab some orange juice. He shrugged and just opened the cardboard container and drank directly from it. Oh well.  

“We have glasses for that you know,” Liam told him, the snark tone in his voice evident.

Zayn rolled his eyes as he closed the container and then the fridge, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Thanks captain obvious.”

“You hungry?” Liam asked, pointing to the pan in front of him with the spatula that was in his hand. “I made extra just in case your were hungry.”

“What is it?” He asked, taking tentative steps forward to look at what Liam was cooking or attempting to cook.

“A frittata,” he replied, smile on his face like he was proud of himself for accomplishing such a simple tasks as cooking eggs with a few other ingredients. Spoiled rich kid.

“Your nanny teach you how to make that?” Zayn mocked, realizing the only way to get through to Liam was fighting fire with fire. “Or was it your housekeeper? Maybe even your chauffeur perhaps.”

“Forget it,” Liam sighed, ignoring Zayn's taunt and paying attention to the task at hand. “I'll just eat it myself, I've got other shit around here if you want.”

“Liam.”

Liam turned off the stove, placing the eggs on a paper plate next to him. He walked quietly to the dining table where a glass of orange juice and a cup of coffee sat. “You brought the paper back in with you?”

“It's uh it's on the coffee table,” Zayn stuttered out, confused over Liam's lack of reaction. What was this kids problem? Why wasn't he fighting back?

“Okay,” he nodded, making his way into the living room to retrieve the paper and walking back into the kitchen to eat and read in silence apparently.

Zayn kept standing in the kitchen, dumbfounded. Clearly Liam could make any joke or taunt he wanted but couldn't take one. What a child. Zayn just shook his head in true disbelief, bizarre. He let Liam eat and read his paper in peace before he heard the shower being turned on minutes later. His day was now officially beginning. They had another long day ahead of him, another group date. This time the weather was cooperating with them, the clouds from the night before finally cleared and the sun was shining. The production crew knew that choosing to film in Wales in the early months of the year wasn't the perfect weather but it looked beautiful on camera. Or some shit like that, Zayn really didn't care. Another long day of waiting on Liam hand and foot and coaxing him to actually interact with the contestants. One day Zayn was going to be shocked and surprised when Liam actually started to participate without being told to, hopefully. Once Liam was finally ready to start his day Zayn let the production crew know. Minutes later they were in the car and driving off to their location for the day. The day before was a tour of castles and today was museums. Unlikely date location dates if you asked Zayn, but no one did. No one ever did. He just had to suck it up and follow order. Today's contestants were the boring half, the ten guys who's names Zayn didn't care to learn or even remember if he did learn them. Liam was more cooperative today, actually starting conversations with people, smiling politely when spoken to. A huge difference from the day before.

The day went on long like expected. Zayn did his job dutifully though, fetching Liam water or coffee when he asked. Although he did wear a scowl every time he did something Liam asked him. The production crew that followed them from museum to museum kept the pace fast and made sure they didn't linger too long in one exhibit or museum for too long. Zayn actually learned a thing or two that day, listening when the curator spoke about specific paintings or specific artifacts. Liam was obviously preoccupied by the men he was on a date with, Zayn even shockingly heard a genuine laugh from Liam as he spoke to a few of the contestants. Hell may actually be freezing over. Probably not, this was Liam Payne he was talking about. The sun was already setting by the time they arrived back at the mansion. Zayn made sure Liam was back in his room for the night before he was allowed to leave for the day. Like the night before he handed over his walkie talkie to Louis without a word and made his inevitable trek back to his car up the hill.

Another restless night of sleep awaited him. Tomorrow was a lazy day at work, thankfully. They were shooting at the mansion all day, a barbecue was planned for all twenty contestants and Liam. To Zayn that meant he wasn't going to be needed much, maybe he'd be able to hang out in the production truck with Louis and the rest of the crew. Maybe sneakily grab another shower while filming was going on, it didn't seem like Liam cared all that much anyway. Now all he was focused on was trying to get enough sleep in his cramped backseat.

His alarm went off at an ungodly hour the next morning and begrudgingly Zayn forced himself to wake up. He scrubbed at his face harshly, hoping that'd help some. It didn't, all it did was remind him that his beard was growing back and he was in a desperate need of a shave. He always took the utmost pride in his appearance, knowing he was in a business that relayed on your looks more than talents. Not having a proper place to stay kind of put a damper on things. Clean clothes didn't matter if the person wearing them looked like a disaster. He hadn't brushed his teeth in a week, just heavily relying on mouthwash and gum, if his mum saw him now she'd give him and stern look and a shake of her head. That's all it took to know that he was in trouble. The only boy in the family, he never got away with anything, if anything it just added to everything. His eldest sister got away with a lot more, being the oldest had its advantages.

With a mournful sigh Zayn finally got out his car after changing his clothes and throwing a piece of gum into this mouth. Another trek down the hill to start another day at his job. It was still early enough in the day, Liam was most likely still sleeping. Zayn stopped at his usual coffee cart to get his and Louis tea, it had become some sort of routine for them. Zayn would hand over the tea and Louis would hand over his walkie talkie. No words exchanged, just head nods and grunts of acceptance. True friendship at its finest. Like expected, Zayn was handed his walkie talkie and his daily duties from Louis, no words exchanged. His planned day of semi relaxation was cut short, he was still expected to be by Liam's side during the barbecue. He had to fetch whatever Liam wanted, from food to drink to anything else he saw fit. There went his opportunity to catch up with the production crew.

It was still early enough in the day that Zayn realized he could probably sneak in a shower like he did days before. The sun was starting to rise up above the contestants mansion and Liam's bungalow. The barbecue wasn't expected to begin until noon, giving Zayn enough time to freshen up. He unlocked the bungalow and let himself in, dropping his knapsack in the foyer. He could faintly hear Liam's snoring from inside his master bedroom. That was his cue to take the quickest shower in history, maybe if he was lucky he could nick a razor from Liam's stash and shave, look semi human again. As quietly as possible Zayn tiptoed to the bathroom and disrobed. He turned on the shower and stood under the hot spray, letting the water beat down on his neck and shoulders, trying to relieve some of the tension he'd been holding in for the last few weeks. What he really wanted besides a hot shower was a cold drink. It had been too long since he was able to drink. Whatever money he did have was spent on food, tea, and toiletries to survive. If Zayn was lucky there would be alcohol at today's barbecue that he could partake in. There was always alcohol available during filming for the contestants but trying to take some without being caught was the hardest part of the job.

The shower actually did wonders and when he emerged from the bathroom minutes later Zayn felt semi human again. He was even able to shave, well, trim his facial hair at least. A small but much needed improvement. The daily paper was sitting on the coffee table when Zayn went to investigate the rest of the bungalow. Like always the kitchen was stocked with food so it was a perfect opportunity for Zayn to eat. He knew he could subtly steal food from the barbecue today but what's better than eating food purposely bought for Liam Payne? He heard noise outside the bungalow and yelling voices, more than likely Louis. The equipment truck had arrived if he heard his walkie talkie correctly, it was time to set up the barbecue. It was an ingenious idea actually, luckily it fell on one to the more decent days weather wise. A pool party slash barbecue, quintessential Everlasting tactics. Get all the contestants and suitor drunk on cheap spirits and champagne and make sure they wore as little clothing as possible. It had worked every year Zayn had worked on the show. Maybe, finally they'd get their first kiss of the series. There was a bet on that as well, not much money but enough for Zayn to maybe afford more mouthwash and splurge on socks. Harry hadn't let him down thus far so he was counting on him for today. That was unless Chad kept up his creeper act and somehow convinced Liam that he was a decent person. Louis would win then.

“Morning,” Liam grumbled when he emerged from his room around half past ten.

“Coffee’s on,” Zayn told him and pointed at the fresh pot. “Paper is on the table. You need to be ready in an hour. Swim trunks and sunscreen are the only things you need.”

“That's it?” He asked as he maneuvered his way around the kitchen, opening and closing cabinets and drawers to make himself a cup of coffee.

“And your dazzling personality,” Zayn replied coldly. “I mean if you actually have one under all that bull and money you keep flashing.”

Liam scoffed and shook his head. “Mr. Producer if you even knew the half of it you'd be frightened.”

“Not likely,” he snorted and stood up, placing his plate in the sink, purposely walking up to Liam. “My skeletons would frighten your skeletons, Payne. Trust me.”

After the interlude in the kitchen both Liam and Zayn parted ways. Liam drank his coffee in the living room while he read his paper. Zayn tried to keep himself occupied with straightening up the home. He didn't know why he was, they had a weekly maid service who did that and got paid well to do that, too. It was something to declutter his thoughts, it was a thing he did when he got overwhelmed or stressed. Well, it was thing he use to do before he found out the benefits of alcohol. Seeing that the bungalow was dry he had to find someway else to busy himself. Zayn didn't know why he let Liam Payne get to him. Every single time Liam said something it make his blood boil and skin crawl. He was vile and rude and had no respect for anyone else. He acted as if he was the only person in the entire world who had struggled. And what struggle could this poor rich boy have to deal with? His inheritance wasn't as much money as he had wanted? Poor baby. Try sleeping in a car for a night or two then he'd know about real struggles. Pathetic.

When the barbecue finally started around noon things started to look up. Zayn still had to work but luckily he wasn't at Liam's beck and call as much as he thought he was going to be. One of the contestants, Johnny, was manning the grill and Leo was behind the bar mixing drinks. Liam even looked like he was enjoying himself from time to time. Shocking. All twenty men were scrambling to get his attention before the next elimination where three more of them were heading home. Louis even made an appearance to steal a beer and a hotdog, chatted with Zayn for a minute about work related things before disappearing back into the production truck. Zayn stole a beer or two to take the edge off, to calm the buzzing in his brain. After the first sip he could've cried, the whole pretending to be sober shit was rather boring if you asked him. He knew he had to be careful and make sure no one caught him, especially Louis and other high ranking producers. After eating and drinking for an hour everyone inevitably made their way into the pool or hot tub. That's when Zayn could sincerely relax. Liam was preoccupied with everyone vying for his attention and being absolute creepers, gawking over his shirtless physique. Chad running his hand up and down Liam's chest, grabbing roughly onto his exposed hips, trying to act cute by whispering garbage into his ear like they could actually have a real private moment together. Zayn could just picture Louis’s delight at what was unfolding in front of him.

“Malik.”

Zayn adjusted the walkie talkie at his hip after hearing Louis call his name. He got up from where he was sitting and walked to a semi secluded part of the garden. “What's up Lou?”

“There's someone at the gate saying they know you,” he replied, his voice coming in along with static.

“Cryptic much,” he laughed into the device. “Is this guy on the most wanted list or summat?”

“No,” Louis deadpanned. “I'm sending him in. I swear to god Malik if this is one of your degenerate friends I'm kicking your arse.”

“You're one of my degenerate friends Lou,” he countered, shutting off the walkie talkie before Louis had a chance to reply with something he would swear was witty.

Zayn walked away from the barbecue, casting one quick look at the pool to check in with what was going on. They all were still in the pool or hot tub, at least pretending to have the time of theirs lives. Harry was getting more active, swimming where Liam was perched on the edge of the pool. Chad was still being creepy, something that clearly would never change. Louis picked a true gem to win this entire thing. Zayn continued his walk around the mansion onto the graveled path that led from the driveway. He could faintly see the gates opening and a car driving in. Who in the hell drove all the way to the middle of nowhere Wales to see him? He hadn't spoken to his family in probably months and Ant and Danny knew he was working.

“Shit,” he cursed once he properly got to see the car. “Fuck.”

The car came to a stop mere inches in front of Zayn. The engine was cut off before the driver's door was swung open as aggressively as a car door could open. Like Zayn suspected, the person who got out was the one person he didn't want to see. Not now, not ever again.

“Adam.”

“You're a hard person to track down Zed,” he joked, walking towards where Zayn stood.

“Maybe I didn't want to be found,” he tried to play coy. He knew the one person to really see through his bullshit was Adam. He hadn't changed a lot since they'd last seen each other. He was still towering over him as he stood a little over six feet tall. His tanned skin glistened in the hot sun of the north. His hair had gotten a little more curly since they'd last seen each other but it fit him, it always did. “But clearly that didn't work too well.”

“The power of the internet,” he joked, his right hand ghosting against Zayn's. “You've been ignoring me.”

“I've been busy,” he replied, his hands getting clammy at Adam’s touch. It was something he missed, his chest aching with something he couldn't quite put a name on, but it also felt foreign and unnerving. “Gotta make money.”

“Speaking of money,” Adam smirked, his signature smirk that made Zayn's insides feel like they were on fire and melting out of him. “You owe me quite a lot of it.”

Zayn looked down at his scuffed boots as he kicked the gravel at his feet. He was trying desperately to do anything to stall time or have a giant hole swallow him whole. Either option seemed rather ideal at this exact moment. “Adam, babe, you see the thing is-”

“-the money Zayn!” He yelled.

“I don't have it!” He yelled back, shocked over the power of his own voice. He wasn't surprised when Adam dropped his hand hastily and harshly, like his words had physically burned him. “I-I'm sorry but I don't have it, not yet anyway. I-I can get it to you after filming.”

“You'll have it then?” He scoffed, rolling his eyes at the offense. “There's always an excuse with you Malik.”

“I'm looking at a huge bonus once filming ends,” Zayn explained in a rush. “If things go my way of course, but they will, so-so don't worry.”

“You owe me three months worth of rent,” Adam sighed. “Plus utilities.”

“I-I know,” he nodded. “You just gotta wait a little longer for it, yeah? You'll get it.”

“Malik everything okay?” Louis voice crackled through the walkie talkie.

Zayn let out a loud breath at Louis’s voice interrupting his conversation, even though it was more than welcomed. Being around Adam always made Zayn tense, when they were good, they were amazing, spectacular even. It was when they were off that it slightly frightened Zayn, and not many things did. He unclipped the walkie talkie from his belt and sighed. “Yeah, we're good babe. He's umm leaving soon so I'll head back to work.”

“We're not done,” Adam told him firmly. “I didn't drive all the way here just to leave empty handed. I need something babe, a down payment of some sort.”

“I don't have anything, Adam,” he repeated. He felt a little ridiculous being so openly vulnerable around the one person who had seen him at his most vulnerable moments of his life. Adam held his hair back when he drank too much after his grandmother died and he wasn't invited to the funeral. He was also the one who supplied him with the booze so it was a fair trade. “I told you I'll have all the money plus extra once filming is finished. Six weeks, that's all I ask.”

Adam flared his nostrils, never a good sign for Zayn. He took a deep breath and just stayed silent. Zayn could see his brain working overtime and almost pinpoint the exact moment when things took a turn for the worse. “Maybe you can repay me in another way, hmm? At least until the cash rolls in.”

Disgusted. That's the only word Zayn could think of to describe how he felt at this exact moment. He was use to Adam’s games by now, having lived with him for close to eight months now. Adam didn't know the Zayn that was forced into a rehab center by his job for over drinking and almost ruining a multi million dollar television show. He knew the Zayn that was desperate for a place to live and some sort of company, no matter what form in came in. When Zayn was at a loss for money he'd gladly exchange sexual favors for some sort of reprieve with Adam. Today wasn't one of those days. “I'm working. I-I can't just disappear to suck your dick somewhere. Besides there's cameras everywhere.”

“Even better,” he smirked, his eyebrows raised in curiosity and a playful manner. He tugged at Zayn's wrist and looked around them. “Which room is yours? Sneak away quickly. No one will notice and we both can leave here happy until my money is delivered.”

“I don't have anywhere to stay,” Zayn huffed, still disgusted. He couldn't believe he was actually attracted to this guy, at least he once was. Desperation does a lot of crazy things to a person.

“Isn't that knob Liam Payne the boy toy this series? I figure he's got fancy digs around here, maybe suck me off on his bed,” Adam suggested, rather rudely if Zayn was being frank.

There was a lot of things in this world that got to Zayn, usually he just let it roll off his back. What was the use in getting upset over something he more than likely had no control over? Being with Adam was a choice he made, a bad one, but a choice he made nonetheless. He knew rather quickly what he was getting himself into when he moved in with him. He was brash and loud, messy, and abrupt. Qualities that Zayn himself possessed but couldn't stand in other people. He couldn't hold a job for longer than six weeks, his bosses and colleagues getting irritated with him quickly. That should've been a red flag for Zayn right away but he chose to ignore it. Give Adam the benefit of the doubt. Not the smartest idea he's ever had, clearly. He was still raw from rehab, he had just spent thirty days picking at a scab that he called his mind. He was vulnerable and a cute smile and a six pack of abs was exactly what he needed to make him feel something, anything, again.

“Let's go babe,” Adam tried to coax him once again. “We both know you don't need this job anyway.”

Zayn sighed, looking down at the strong grip Adam had on his wrist. Usually that sort of hold didn't make him flinch, a welcomed pressure even. Today it just didn't sit well with him, made his stomach turn. What he use to think were butterflies was actually disgust. “Just leave Adam. You'll get your money and everything will be fine, yeah?”

The grip on his wrist got tighter, uncomfortable. “Really? You're gonna say no to me?”

“I'm saying no,” he told him strongly, planting his feet firmly on the gravel path. Adam was stronger than him, could easily push and pull him around if he wanted to. This was Zayn's only way to literally and figuratively stand his ground. “I'm saying no now and I'm saying no forever, Adam.”

“You're gonna regret those words,” he threatened, squaring his shoulders. Doing anything to make himself look bigger, which wasn't that hard honesty. “Trust me.”

Zayn tried his best to stay firm, not many things frightened him. He learned to take care of himself at an early age. The only Muslim kid at school toughened him up quickly. The bullies were going to stop picking on you once you knew how to fight back. Nothing changed once he grew up; that's all Adam was really. He was a bully in an adult's body, but still had a childlike mentality. Simple. Words were easily brushed off, sticks and stones and all that hoopla. Adam grabbing roughly at his wrist, his knuckles turning white at the pressure he had around Zayn was not going to fly over well. Zayn knew he could take the easy way out and call security, they'd gladly escort Adam off the premises. He knew it wouldn't be that easy, he was going to have to fight him off himself. Breathing deeply was all he could muster up quickly, trying to keep himself calm and rational, which was kind of funny if Zayn had time to stop and think about it.

“Let go,” he seethed between gritted teeth. “You really don’t want to start something, especially here.”

Adam scoffed as his grip grew tighter. “Aww c’mon babe, you really think I’m afraid of the lot that work here.”

“Not them, me,” he replied as boldly as he could convey. “You keep forgetting you don’t know a thing about me Adam.”

“I know everything about you,” he spat in Zayn’s face. “Little boy lost, begging for someone to show faux emotion and he’ll be yours faithfully. Like a puppy really. Cute, sad, and pathetic.”

“Fuck off,” Zayn hotly replied.

“Is there a problem here?”

Zayn snapped his head around fast at the voice, Liam. Shit. He quickly turned back around to face Adam, silently hoping he’d drop his wrist and the whole ordeal all together. From the wicked gleam in Adam’s eye he knew the issue was far from being dropped.

“Zayn, you okay?” Liam gingerly walked towards the pair, still in his swim trunks, a towel wrapped around his shoulders. He was supposed to be mingling with the contestants not prying into Zayn’s disaster of a situation right now. Perfect. Why couldn’t willing someone to go away actually work? Liam was more than fine with ignoring him any other time during the day, why now? Why must he play knight in shining armor now? “I could really use a tea you know.”

“I could really use you leaving us alone you know,” he countered. Wanker literally walked out of the hot tub to find him to ask for a bloody cup of tea. What an asshole. “You’ll get your tea when I’m finished, okay?”

“What you a gopher or summat?” Adam laughed, the grip on Zayn’s wrist loosening. “You getting anything here mister pretty boy asks for? Hmm?”

“Adam,” he gritted his teeth once more. He saw Liam walking closer out of the corner of his eye.

“Shut up.”

“Asks for a wank, you gotta do it?” Adam asked, a large wicked grin of his face. The smug bastard. “Hey pretty boy, Zayn’s great with his hands by the way, his mouth too.”

“That’s enough,” Liam exclaimed. “I think it’s best you go, yeah?”

“You’re trying to threaten me?” Adam sneered at Liam, he rolled his eyes at the lame attempt. “Go back to where you belong, yeah? Leave Zed and I alone to deal with our adults things.”

“Harassing him and stopping him for doing his job is adult things?” Liam asked, nodding his head like he was actually intrigued as to what Adam was saying. “That’s news to me.”

“Liam,” Zayn sighed. How cliché did everything around him look right now? He was almost sandwiched between Liam and Adam, both nearly towering over him in height and stature. Now they were close to coming to blows over something as mindless as Liam not knowing to mind his own damn business.

“No,” Adam stopped Zayn. “I wanna see how big and bad Payne thinks he really is.”

“Adam,” Zayn groaned in frustration, he turned his head about to properly look at Liam. “I’ll get your tea in a tick, okay? We’re almost finished here.”

“Unbelievable,” Liam muttered unsuccessfully under his breath. He slowly backed away from the duo, shaking his head the entire time. “Hey Mr. Producer! Forget the tea, just keep the other lads busy while Chad and I have a private one on one, okay?”

“What!” Zayn gawked. “Li-Liam, I’m not their bloody babysitters.”

“Oh well,” he shrugged, turning around and heading towards the back of the contestants mansion and the barbeque.

The standoff between Zayn and Adam only lasted a few more minutes after that. Zayn had decided to just give in, too exhausted to keep fighting. No matter how long he'd try to put up a good fight, emotionally, mentally, or even physically, Adam always had the upper hand. He was taller and stronger and had a lot more to lose if it did come to blows. They luckily came to an agreement when Zayn gave him one of the rings on his fingers. He rarely wore jewelry nowadays, selling a lot of it to get by. This particular piece he kept near and dear to him, it belonged to his granddad, his father's father. He had died when Zayn was eighteen and off at uni, it was a devastating blow to the entire family. It was the only thing the man had left Zayn in his will. He wasn't a man of money or expensive possessions but the ring meant everything to him.

A curious young Zayn would always sit and just listen as his granddad spoke of stories of growing up in Pakistan and migrating to England as a young boy. The changes he had seen within himself and within the world. He was a hard working man, his face showed it, his body showed it. The ring though, it was something he always wore and it just peeked Zayn's interest. It wasn't fancy, just a plain gold band, ruby, sapphire, and tanzanite stones mounted on it. One to represent the birth month of his children. That's what made it a sentimental piece of jewelry. Now it belonged to Adam. The wind felt like it was being punched out of Zayn's lungs when he handed it over. The cold band lying in Adam’s hot palm. They both knew that the money he could get from selling the ring would tie him for now. It would hold him over until Zayn got paid and hopefully received his handsome reward once the series was over. Louis was babbling incoherently on the walkie talkie once again, that was quickly turned off. Zayn had enough over everything right now, he just wanted to disappear. Wanted to go back to his car and sleep the rest of the day away.

“In six weeks I'll have the rest of what I owe you,” Zayn assured him.

“You better,” Adam vaguely threatened him. He leaned forward and placed a dry kiss to the corner of Zayn's mouth. “It was good to see you, Zed. Truly.”

The internal struggle to not roll his eyes or openly gag was hard for Zayn, but he did it. “Yeah, great.”

Watching Adam walk back to his car and finally take off was the first time in a long time that Zayn let himself feel okay. He knew things weren’t fully okay, nothing ever has, but just for a brief moment it felt okay. He had one issue off his back for at least the next six weeks, now he had to deal with all the other crap going on around it. He pulled his hair tighter, giving himself something to stabilize himself, before walking back towards the contestant’s mansion. Before he even got to the back he could smell the chlorine of the pool and feel the heat off the hot tub. The volume was still loud, the music even louder. At least they seemed they like were enjoying themselves. Lucky bastards.

Zayn scanned the bodies around the back and noticed Harry right way, his pale skin soaking wet, his long hair a mess on top of his head. This kid was hopeless. He saw a few of the other contestants, their names he refused to learn, hanging around either talking to each other or just lounging and trying desperately to get whatever sun Wales had to offer. No Liam in sight though, Chad either. Like Zayn didn’t already have enough shit to deal with. That was more than likely what Louis was babbling on the walkie talkie. So Zayn totally had a valid reason to turn it off right away. He knew Liam had to be joking when he said he’d take Chad back to his place for some one on one time, he wasn’t that stupid. Clearly he was wrong, clearly he was wrong in giving Liam Payne the benefit of the doubt. That’ll teach him to never do that again.

The camera people and low ranking producers just kept looking at Zayn, silently hoping he knew what to do. This was all new to him, when he was a producer himself all this was gold, something you wanted to happen so early on in the series. Ratings gold, the entire country would eat it up, it’ll be over all the front pages of the papers. Now as Liam Payne’s personal gopher and having all this money and energy invested in Harry winning, Zayn knew he had to do something. He checked on the remaining contestants once more before begrudgingly making his way towards Liam’s bungalow. He had to suck it up, put on his big boy pants and be a professional adult. It killed him to think about that, this series was supposed to be easy. He was supposed to sit back and watch the drama unfold alongside Louis. Knick crisps from the craft service table and smoke a blunt or two while the sun was rising. That was all he was supposed to be doing. Now he had to actually earn his bloody paycheck.

He got to Liam’s bungalow and things were eerily quiet, even when Liam was alone things were never that silent. The foyer and living area was empty, as was the bathroom, laundry room, and kitchen. The only logical place for Liam and Chad to be was the bedroom, of course. Not only did Zayn have to be a babysitter he also had to be a cockblocker, great. He could hear his mates back in Bradford ribbing him already. He could hear the entirety of the United Kingdom yelling at him, the bloody queen herself would more than likely be joining in with the tirade, that’s just how lucky Zayn was nowadays. The well placed cameras by the doorway spotting him right away, Louis probably on the other side cursing his name and the day he was born. Don’t worry Lou, he felt exactly the same. None of the bedroom doors in either the mansion of bungalow had locks so it was easy for Zayn to just walk in the room. He had to take a few reassuring breaths before actually getting the courage to do it. Did he really want to see what was going on? Did he want to see Liam Payne’s hairy arse in the middle of something with steroid loving, protein powder chugging Chad? Not really.

Sure enough, what Zayn didn’t want to see he saw. As soon as he opened the bedroom door he was greeted with someone’s wet bathing suit on the floor by his feet. He wished that was the worst of it. Chad was straddling Liam’s legs, his massive tribal tattoo that was across his back gave him away instantly. Of course a douchebag like Chad would have a tribal tattoo, all the jerks like him did. His massive steroid induced body was hovering over Liam, it was even hard to tell if he was actually in the room. The only thing that indicated that he was there was his hands on Chad’s hips, his hand tattoos giving him away. It all just looked like a bad porno movie, something that’s on cable television at three in the morning when Zayn’s too high or drunk or not tried enough to actually sleep. So bad that he couldn’t even muster up enough energy to even try and get half hard or even try for a desperate wank. Pathetic really.

“Shows over, let’s go,” Zayn announced, loudly clapping his hands to get their attention. “People to see, places to be. Up and at ‘em gents.”

Sometimes Zayn loved his job, truly, honestly. Seeing Chad’s face after being frightened half to death was one of the reasons for loving his job. He quickly turned pale, kind of like the protein powder he’d been carrying around with him for the last two weeks. If he had pearls he’d probably be clutching them, he looked so scandalized, shocked and amazed that someone other than Liam had access to the bungalow. Hello! He currently was a contestant on a show that had millions of pound invested in it. Nothing and no one experiences privacy. It shouldn’t be that difficult to realize. Especially when whatever you’re doing involves the suitor, nothing you do will go unnoticed. Maybe a rereading of the contract would suffice.

“Mr. Producer,” Liam crooned, a smirk on his face. “Came to join the party, hmm?”

Chad kept going about his business, scurrying off Liam in a hurry, trying to desperately cover himself up. Not that anyone was really paying attention. He walked out of the room and bungalow after grabbing his swimming trunks without anyone really noticing.  Liam continued to lay against the headboard, stark naked, basking in the awkwardness. Zayn diverted his eyes, trying to be respectful, even though Liam clearly didn’t deserve it.

“Up,” Zayn repeated, this time harshly. “You’ve still got shit to do today and banging protein boy wasn’t part of it, okay?”

“Jealous?” Liam laughed in amusement. “You have to be at my beck and call while I get to do whatever or whomever I please, hmm?”

Zayn’s mum always told him that the more he rolled his eyes the better chance he’d have at them getting stuck like that. Well, he’d been rolling them quite often since working on Everlasting and they hadn’t gotten stuck yet. So ha to you mum. “Just like life.”

Liam pushed his back off the headboard and watched closely as Zayn just milled about the bedroom, picking up wet towels and clothes and tossing them either on the bed or the lounge chair that was to the right on the bed. “Excuse me?”

“Get dressed and back out there, okay,” he sighed, too exhausted to pick a fight, shockingly. After all the Adam garbage he didn’t have the energy to make Liam Payne cry, especially when they weren’t in front of cameras. CCTV didn’t count because they can’t pick up every little detail of their interaction.

The barbeque was tense after that, at least from Zayn’s standpoint. Liam was acting odd, interacting with the contestants, other than Chad, but keeping an eye as Zayn hovered over the area. Louis emerged from his trailer and even made a cameo by the pool, mostly to steal leftovers, and also to inquire about what really happened in the bungalow. Louis wasn’t stupid, no one ever claimed he was, but he knew how to play ignorant really well. He pretended he didn’t feel the tension, did see how Chad was apprehensive to go near Liam or Zayn for that matter. Less interaction between Chad and Liam mess less likely of a chance of Louis winning the big prize, he wanted to eradicate that quickly. Zayn was just waiting, waiting for why Louis actually made an appearance, and it wasn’t for the soggy foreign meat products being passed off and hamburgers and hot dogs.

“Bro,” Louis finally broke his awkward silence, just stood beside Zayn and chewed his food loudly, a piss warm beer in his free hand. “Who was that guy?”

“No,” he replied, eyes never wavering off the pool and hot tub.

“Really?” Louis squawked, pieces of chewed up hotdog and bun flying out his mouth. Real attractive Lou, really. “Malik.”

“Tomlinson,” Zayn echoed Louis’s whiny tone.

“One question then,” he bargained, moving to stand directly in front of Zayn’s eye line. “Do I need to worry about him? Is he gonna jeopardize my production?”     

Zayn sighed, exhaling loudly from his nose. If he was being honest with himself, that was a very loaded question. He could almost immediately feel the urge to drink or smoke, or do anything counterproductive start to itch at the back of his mind. Facing his feelings and being open and honest? That wasn’t one of Zayn Malik’s many trademarks. “We-we’ll be okay Lou, okay?”

Louis took a long swig of his piss beer, narrowing his eyes. He looked like he was trying to read Zayn or assess the situation altogether, two things he was never really good at to begin with. “Good. Now get back to work, Malik.”

Watching other people have fun was boring, why did that bother Zayn so much as a kid? Seeing all the popular kids huddled together in the canteen or in the back of the classroom just whispering and looking directly at him. At age six and seven that would leave him completely gutted, now he couldn’t care less. Let them have fun and make complete arses of themselves on national TV, Zayn was just gonna sit back and drink, inconspicuously, but drink nonetheless. A lot of the guys were sipping away at fruity cocktails or weak beer while there was hard shit available. No one was touching the rum so Zayn was helping himself. He was still doing his job, keeping a semi watchful eye on Liam and the contestants. No one was getting too handsy, no one was causing a scene, well, not yet at least.

His walkie talkie remained silent, except for the occasional sound of static.  Liam as interacting with all the guys, Harry was getting attention so Zayn was happy. Maybe a little too happy, he was getting drunk. Seeing as he hadn’t had anything substantial to eat all day the rum was hitting him hard. He could feel the numbness in his fingers and toes begin, a clear indication that he was intoxicated. Next usually came his face and mouth, his tongue feeling heavy and foreign in his mouth. The constant craving for a cigarette or something stronger started to kick in. All Zayn had to remember was to not make a fool of himself again. The cameras may not be on him directly, but they were all around him, not afraid to capture anything that may make a good television show. Last year’s series finale was a clear indication of that. That’s what got him in trouble the year before, everyone was too busy paying attention to the production of the show that they didn’t even notice that one of their own producers was getting drunk each and every night. And the worst part was that he was getting drunk off the alcohol provided by the show itself, courtesy of the network.

“Ok, time to wake up.”

Zayn jumped up, startled at the sudden push to his shoulder, his feet feeling wet. “What-what’s going on?”

“You fell asleep,” Liam told him with a laugh. “Production is over for the day. Some gopher you are, mate.”

“I did not-“ Zayn began, looking around at his surroundings. The sun was almost completely set, the cameraman and production assistants were scurrying around, closing up for the day, waiting for the second unit to take their place. “Shit.”

“No one noticed,” he said, shrugging his shoulders, his wet hair still dripping on Zayn’s feet. “No one important at least. I’m heading to bed, I’m knackered, you can head back to your place for the night.”

“My place,” he mumbled to himself, his tongue still feeling heavy in his mouth. Fuck, he was still drunk. Maybe if he tried standing up, bad, bad idea. The ground kept moving. “Thanks.”

Liam huffed out a sarcastic laugh as he held onto Zayn’s arm to help steady his balance. “Need someone to drive ya?”

“Drive me to me car,” he giggled, finding that concept of being driven to his car oddly hysterical.

He was supposed to be a brooding drunk, when did he become a giggly drunk? A lot changes in a year, clearly. “I-I’m o-kay.”

“Come on,” Liam told him sternly, lifting Zayn up as he started to falter on his feet. “You aren’t in the right mind to be alone tonight, the babysitter needs to be babysat.”

Zany stood up straight, fixing himself, trying to gather himself. “I can get back to my car just fine, I don’t need no help, okay?”

“You gotta be a hard ass even when someone is being nice to you,” he scoffed, slowly dragging Zayn towards the bungalow. It was kind of sad really, how easily he was being manhandled by Liam, he was chalking it up to being drunk and not that Liam was stronger than him in any capacity, not at all. “You’re staying at mine tonight, okay?”

Zayn scoffed as he rolled his eyes, feeling the inevitable hangover forming already. Great. Liam had already opened the bungalow entrance, practically shoving Zayn inside. “I will n-not stay he-here. My car is perfectly comfortable.”

Liam shoved Zayn onto the first available surface that looked soft, the sofa in the living area in this instance. He slipped off his slippers and threw the towel that was around his waist towards the laundry room before he sat down on the coffee table facing a semi awake and coherent Zayn. “Why do you keep saying car?”

“Huh?” Zayn asked, his right arm thrown over his face, covering one of his eyes. “What are you babbling about now, Payne?”

“Are you living in your car?” Liam hesitantly asked. “Does that have something to do with that bloody pain in the arse I saw this morning talking to you?”

The silence in the bungalow was deafening, the production crew milling about outside could faintly be heard. If you tried to listen closely and carefully, Louis’s obnoxiously loud voice could be heard, barking orders at the second unit crew. Zayn turned off his walkie talkie after he finished half the bottle of rum that Liam and the contestants disregarded. Zayn just kept blinking at Liam, refusing to speak, pretending his was too drunk to comprehend what was being asked of him. It was embarrassing, and frankly none of Liam’s business. If he told him the truth it’ll be something Liam would probably hold over his head until the production of the show was over. He could already hear the teasing and the taunts and the laughs Liam would have at his expense.

“Zayn.” Liam poked Zayn’s shin with his toe, trying to get any sort of response out of him, even a grunt in recognition would suffice. He sighed in defeat, giving up with this obvious one way conversation. “You’re already half asleep anyway, you know where everything is so you’re welcome to whatever. See you tomorrow, Zayn.”

“Goodnight,” he replied once he knew Liam was already half down the hallway, but close enough to hear his barely above a whisper voice.

Waking up in unknown places was not a foreign concept for Zayn, he’d been doing it since he left uni. Random beds from a one night stand, pub bathrooms, alleyways, you name it and Zayn’s probably woken up there. This time was odd, waking up and feeling refreshed, slightly hungover, but refreshed. He reluctantly opened his eyes, cursing at the sun that temporarily blinded him. He quickly shielded his eyes, feeling the dull ache in the back of his head. He needed coffee and water, maybe an aspirin or two. Firstly, he needed to remember where the hell he was. He could feel the comfortable sofa he was sitting on, noticing he was still in the same clothes he was wearing the day before, could smell the alcohol on his clothes and less attractively, his breath. But that wasn’t different than any other morning since filming started.

“Morning sunshine.”

Zayn groaned at the chipper voice, sadly recognizing it right away. “I slept here?”

“Do you not remember last night?” Liam asked, pushing Zayn’s feet off the sofa to make room for himself to sit which earned a less than threatening growl from Zayn. “I had to practically drag you down here from the pool area. Some people just don’t know how to handle their liquor. Amateurs.”

“I’m a world class drinker,” Zayn pathetically defended himself, regretting it the second after the words left his mouth. “What time is it?”

“Almost noon,” Liam replied. “Had to eat my fruit platter and read my paper in the kitchen like a civilized person.”

“It’s about time,” he muttered under his breath. “What do you have planned today? I have shit to do before I can start working.”

Liam narrowed his eyes at Zayn, curious as to what his words implied but also knowing not to poke the subject, especially after the night before. “What do you need to do?”

“I’ve just got things to do,” he replied forcibly, getting his bearings and standing up, despite the bounding in his head. “I need to grab a few things, like clean clothes and whatnot.”

Liam scoffed and Zayn’s attempts to stand and not wince at every single move he made, the lines between his brows giving him away. “I’ve got clothes, they’re probably a hell of a lot better than the shite you wear and call fashion.”

“I bought my clothes with my own money,” Zayn spat at him. “Daddy didn’t give me a dime, unlike you, spoiled rich punk.”

“Why do I even try?” Liam asked, sounding more like he was talking to himself than Zayn. “I try to be nice, for what? To get my head chewed off.”

Zayn tried to roll his eyes but the pain in his head didn’t really appreciate the attempt. “You? Nice? Don’t make me laugh, Payne, honestly.”

“I tried to help you with that douchebag yesterday, I’ve been letting you use my shower and laundry room without asking any questions,” he rattled off, still carefully monitoring Zayn’s every move. “Now I’m offering you clothes to wear for one bloody day mate and you jump down my throat. Let someone help you, man.”

Without saying anything, Zayn gathered his belongings and headed towards the front door. He still had time before production officially began anyway. It was going to be a busy day seeing elimination was rapidly approaching. Five more contestants were going to be sent home so it was now time for them to scramble and beg and plead Liam to keep them. Another few hours where Zayn had to sit and watch as grown men acted like pathetic human beings. The sun was already shining high in the sky when he exited the bungalow, he had to strain his eyes to see in front of him, which clearly didn’t help his hangover at all. He let out a hot puff of air from his nose while he continued to walk up the graveled pathway and towards the mansions exist. He needed to go to his car and get a change of clothes, being on camera or not, he still needed to look and feel presentable. Also, he owed Louis his daily tea.

The one thing that was still bothering him as he walked up the hill was Liam. Well, besides the obvious reason why Liam Payne bothered him. He was trying to make himself look like a martyr, helping poor defenseless Zayn. Please. The one person in this world who didn’t need anybody’s help was Zayn Malik, he learned that the hard way and early on in life. Offering up his shower and laundry room suddenly made Liam qualified for sainthood? Don’t make him laugh. If Liam was such a good guy then why did he beg the network and upper producers to make him the suitor on this year’s Everlasting? Why campaign for the job if you didn’t need to have a total image makeover? See, Liam forgot that Zayn use to be a producer, meaning he knew all the inside details that only producers were privy to know. He could try and fool the country even try and fool the contestants, but he could never, never fool someone who knew all about the true Liam Payne.

Finally reaching his car on top of the hill, Zayn quickly changed into whatever clean clothes he could find. He wasn’t in a rush to get back to work, that was obvious, but he really didn’t want to linger in his smelly, dirty clothes for much longer. As much as he hated to admit it, he did have to go back to work eventually. If he was going to win this whole thing and give Adam his money plus pocket some for himself, he’d need to put at least a little bit of effort into what he was doing. He had it made if he really thought about it. He was at Liam’s side almost the entire day, he could easily manipulate the situation to his advantage. Zayn knew that he couldn’t wait for Harry to make his move, he was moving at a glacial pace while Chad already had Liam in the sack, giving Louis the upper hand. He wasn’t going to force Liam onto Harry or vice versa, maybe just give them both a small little nudge in the right direction. In the end if Liam gave Harry the final rose and pretended to be happy and have a short lived fairy tale ending, that was more than okay for Zayn, as long as Louis stayed true to his word and put money in his account at the end of everything. He could live with the repercussions that were more than likely inevitable, he could live with them as he lay on the exotic beach with a drink in his hand, far, far away from production.      

The trip back down the hill was just like all the other ones, full of dread and regret and wonderment. He made his typical stop to get Louis tea, not having enough money on him this time to get some for himself. He’d just knick something for Liam’s kitchen and call it even. He walked through the gates and towards the production trucks, slightly missing the camaraderie and the late nights, the unproductive producers meetings. Like every morning for the past two weeks, Zayn handed over the tea to Louis and accepted his walkie talkie begrudgingly. He didn’t receive a pep talk this time, just a nod of Louis head and a quick wave of his hand. No news is better than good news is most cases, this being one of them. If the network wasn’t complaining about Zayn’s job performance, that was a good thing. Just like the old days he grabbed a packet of barbeque crisps off the craft service table, eating them as he made his way towards the bungalow. Elimination was looming over everyone’s head so today was the day all the contestants were going to be groveling for Liam’s attention and Zayn had to sit back and watch it all. Great.    

“Aww, Mr. Producer, did you get dressed up for me?” Liam mocked as soon as Zayn opened the bungalow door. Liam was conveniently walking passed the hall, towel around his waist, obvious he just got out the shower. “You shouldn’t have. I’m honored.”

Zayn rolled his eyes as Liam over-dramatically clutched at his chest. “Save it Trust Fund. Want me to send the contestants in now seeing you’re clearly ready to just spread your legs for anyone and everyone these days.”  

Liam pouted, sticking his bottom lip out as he walked towards Zayn. He stood inches in front of him, could feel Zayn’s breath on his face, see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed sharply. He wasn’t doing anything though, just trying to control his breathing as Liam’s fingertips traced the top of his jeans, his thumb close to the top button. It was eerily silent, just a lot of heavy breathing from the both of them. Zayn hissing as Liam undid the top button to his jeans, purposely stepping closer so their hips were aligned. Zayn grabbed at Liam’s towel and was tempted to either drop it or pull him in closer. Whatever he decided to do he better do it quick. Liam leaned closer, kind of like he was egging Zayn on, telling him it was okay without verbalizing it.

“Too bad I don’t fuck the help,” Liam spat in his face before turning on his heel and into the bedroom.

Zayn stood there dumbfounded, which was rare for him. It was officially, Liam Payne was a piece of shit and exactly how all the tabloids described him. He heard faint laughing coming from the bedroom, Liam boasting at what had just happened, no doubt proud of himself, the smug bastard. He had so many thoughts running through his mind, mostly trying to figure out how to plan his revenge. It was what Liam deserved.

“You okay Mr. Producer?” Liam asked once he emerged out of his bedroom, he was fully dressed this time, smirking wildly.

“So here’s how we’re running today,” he began, stepping closer, “these pathetic pieces of scum vying to be your one true love are all gonna parade in here, yeah. I will decide who sees you and for how long and at what time. Got it? I make the rules around here, Payne, not you.”

The smirk quickly vanished from Liam’s face, he was now serious, his brows knitted together in concentration. “Demanding, I like it. It suits you.”

“We’re gonna start with Chad,” Zayn continued to rattle off, ignoring Liam’s attempt at being cheeky. “You’ll sit on opposite ends of the couch, not too close because everyone has unfortunately seen that already. Gotta leave suspense, yeah, leave them wanting more.”

“You producing again?” Liam asked, his eyes following Zayn as he paced around the room on some sort of high, a power high. “What happened to you being my gopher? You get a promotion during your morning walk?”

“I’m always producing,” he clarified, stopping his pacing and turning to look at Liam. “You’ll end with Harry. You like Harry, Harry likes you. Got it? Good. Now finish getting ready so the first unit can set up.”

Liam gave Zayn a side eye as he followed his directions, going back towards his bedroom and bathroom to finish readying himself. Zayn was buzzing, feeling the blood flow through his veins, that’s how hyped up he was. It felt good being back in the driver’s seat, even without a license so to speak. If he had to follow Liam around and be at his beck and call, why not use it to his advantage, make a good show out of it. Louis wasn’t going to complain and he highly doubted that the network would complain either. As Liam readied himself, with the help of the hair and make-up department, the first unit set up the cameras, lights, and mics all over the bungalow, making sure nothing wasn’t picked up either audibly or visually. Louis voice could be heard barking orders over the walkie talkies, making sure everything was in place, even Zayn. He was to be out of every shot, but still be close enough to step in if need be.    

Zayn watched on as every guy came in at exactly the time he specified. Chad was first and tried to be cheeky, bringing up the little encounter they had the day before. It made Liam blush and giggle and made Zayn want to pluck his own eyes out with a spoon. He remained standing behind all the camera and light people, making sure he had a clear view of Liam and made sure Liam knew he was watching closely. Chad tried to take Liam back to the bedroom but I firm shake of his head let Liam know that Zayn wasn’t having it. Not just because he didn’t like Chad and didn’t want Louis to win this series, also because it was obvious that’s all Chad wanted out of Liam, he clearly wasn’t here to find true love, or whatever. The other guys, who names Zayn had no desire to learn, filtered in and out at a blinding pace. Some poured their hearts out to Liam, trying desperately to get a rose later. It was only weeks into the series and some guys were ready to profess their love. Get the fuck outta here.

Last but certainly not least was the only other reason besides the money that Zayn stayed working for this dumb show, Harry. Liam welcomed him warmly into the bungalow, shooting Zayn a look as he walked towards the couch area, pointing at the seat next to him for Harry to sit. Harry looked nervous, understandably. It was all new and exciting and intimidating, this was the first time they ever had any alone time together. It was clear that everyone in the mansion knew about Chad and Liam’s encounter, they all were feeling the pressure to up the ante themselves. Make Liam take notice. Harry was Zayn’s only hope at lining his pockets heavily and maybe getting out of this hellhole, the show and Wales.

Harry looked over at Liam all doe eyes and giraffe limbs he clearly still hadn't figured out how to use. Zayn could see himself liking Harry in the real world, if Zayn was into guys who needed as much help as he did. The nerves were radiating off of Harry, it was obvious that he and Liam had nothing in common. Seeing Liam try was all Zayn had asked of him, so progress. Liam leaned forward and whispered something in Harry's ear that made him blush, his cheeks pink against his pale skin, his dimples evident when he smiled, biting his lip to hold back a laugh. His eyes were wide when he looked down at Liam, moving closer to whisper in his ear. Hopefully the microphones they were wearing caught whatever they were saying or else Louis would be livid. Zayn couldn't care less, as long as this exchange kept positively progressing, it didn't matter if it was caught on camera or audio or not. They kissed and Zayn could faintly hear Louis hiss in anger over the walkie talkie. This was ruining his plans of Chad running away with the show.

This was exactly what Zayn needed to see, without seeming like a total pervert. Harry was safe from elimination, he just had to be. Despite their opposites it was clear Liam obviously saw something in Harry. How he had a connection with both Chad and Harry was beyond Zayn at the moment but he didn't care. His guy was on the top of the heap so he didn't have to worry. Zayn could see the money, smell it even. Chad was the only obstacle in his way and he wasn't going to be deterred by his overgrown muscles or his excessive use of protein powder in everything he drank. It was all a distraction from the guy he actually was, a gold digger. Using Liam as a stepping stone to do more in the public eye, make a name for himself any ways necessary. Harry was making whining noises into Liam's mouth as Liam tangled his hand in Harry's hair. Okay, maybe this was a bit too much. He wasn't a prude, far from it, but this kiss was a tad excessive. If Liam was playing it up for the camera, he was doing a damn good job. Shockingly.

The pulled away, finally, Harry's cheeks pink and his hair a mess. They shared a sickening sweet smile before going back to whispering. If this all wasn't for the damn cameras Zayn would believe Harry and Liam were a real couple. It was obvious there was some sort of connection. Harry had good intentions, it was clear from the first interview Zayn had done with him. He wanted to find love and he wanted to find it with Liam. Why? Only god and Harry know that answer. Liam walked Harry to the front door, both of them molded to each other in what could look as a romantic gesture. They shared their goodbyes and another affectionate kiss before Harry gave Liam a little wave and left the bungalow making his way towards the mansion. A loud cut was called from next to Zayn. The cameras were shut off and everyone start to close down production.

“You're welcome,” Liam said to Zayn.

Zayn balked at Liam for a moment, confused. “I'm welcome? For?”

“That charade I just put on for you,” he replied, gesturing towards the closed bungalow door. He unhooked his mic pack from the back of his pants and passed it to a sound guy who was waiting with his hand out. “Acting like I really want to be with Harry.”

“You don't like him?” Zayn asked in a huff. “Could've fooled me.”

Liam shook his head and smirked, walking away from the chaos in the front room of the home and heading towards the kitchen where it was more quiet. “I'm a great actor Mr. Producer. I told you before, there's a lot you don't know about me.”

Zayn stood across Liam, the kitchen island between the two of them. He was infuriated, intrigued, but infuriated. “And all that shit with Chad?”

“You offer up sex that easily, I'm not gonna say no,” he replied nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders. “Isn't that part of them game anyway? It's all for the ratings anyway.”

“You're fucking this whole thing up,” he huffed. “That's my job Money Bags, not yours.”

Liam spun on his heel, moving around the kitchen island to stand beside Zayn. “See, that’s what I don’t understand. You have a cushy job here and you want to sabotage it. Why?”

“You have a cushy life and you want to sabotage it. Why?” Zayn countered, eyebrows raised.

Liam pursued his lips and nodded. “Touché Mr. Producer.”

Zayn walked away, shaking his head in dismay. Liam Payne loves to bitch and moan that his life was hard, like he wasn’t born with a silver spoon in his mouth. Like he didn’t have everything he ever wanted in life. Zayn knew struggle, he knew hardship. He was the only Muslim kid in his school, besides his older sister. The shit he would get on a daily basis from students and teachers would make anyone drop out or want to disappear completely, and that was only during grade school. Add being gay and things got worse. Crushing on the captain of the football team was fine if you kept it to yourself. Getting caught staring at him during chemistry class and you got yourself beat up after school in the boys bathroom. No one lending a hand, no one calling for helping. Going home and both parents hemming and hawing over what to do but not doing a thing. Life was shit for Zayn but he’d kill to have half of what Liam complained he had to go through. All his problems were self inflicted. He put himself in all his situations. The bottom line to all of Zayn’s crap was because who he was born as, a brown, Muslim, gay man.

“Good evening and welcome to Everlasting,” Niall smiled wide as the camera zoomed in on him.

It was another elimination night, another endlessly long night ahead of them all. Niall had already had his pow wow with Liam, going over each and every contestant to see how Liam was feeling about them. Zayn had to stand behind the cameras as they filmed, just in case Liam decided he needed something. If Zayn wanted to be a butler he would’ve never went to uni and made something of himself. He had to grin and bare it though, act like this job was a god sent. He was allowed to scoff and roll his eyes so it was a win/win situation. Niall was talking to all the contestants now, taking a pulse of the situation. Who was nervous, who felt confident. Shockingly Chad was walking around with his chest puffed out, overly confident that he was going to get a rose and move forward. Harry even looked like he had a pep in his step, head held high after his last meeting with Liam.

“Malik!” Louis called to him from behind the monitors. He waved his hands to get his attention. “Move your non existent ass here, stat!”

Zayn rolled his eyes as he cast one last glance Liam’s way. Liam was being tended to by hair and makeup before he was due on camera to break some hearts. “What’s up Lou?”

Louis grabbed Zayn’s arm and moved them to a semi secluded area. Nothing was ever fully secluded but after years working on a show like this, you learn where you can get a smidge of privacy. “What’s up with you and Payne?”

“Liam?” Zayn gawked with a laugh. He undid his hair and redid it to occupy his hands. He was aching for a cigarette or a drink, always did during elimination nights. It was long and daunting and way too emotional. “Payne’s a dick.”

“There’s cameras all over the place, babe,” Louis reminded him, an eyebrow raised. “It sees everything.”

“And you need your eyes checked,” he joked. “Does it see how much I despise Pretty Boy here? How he’s jeopardizing the entire production?”

“When have you cared about the production?” He snorted. “You hate this place as much as anyone else. You’re stuck here for a paycheck and cause you’re court mandated to.”

“And I’m doing my job like you asked,” Zayn told him. “Babysit Payne, which I’m doing. I think I’m excelling actually.”

Louis purses his lips together and nodded. “You are getting too close. You can’t be this blokes friend, okay?”

“Don’t worry,” he laughed, patting Louis’s face affectionately. “You’ll always be my best mate Lou.”

“Fuck off,” Louis huffed, pushing Zayn’s hand away. “Don’t be a prick, Malik.”

As the night rolled on like it would never end, Zayn kept a close eye on Louis and his movements. It seemed like Louis had one eye on production and one on him. It was creepy and totally unnecessary. Zayn was a professional, knew his boundaries. Despite his previous stumbles and incidents, he understood what his job entailed. He knew that he had to keep Liam in line, make sure he was present both physically and mentally at all times. There hadn’t been any major hiccups since he took over the assistant job. He couldn’t stop Liam from sleeping with Chad, even though he tried his hardest. And they were definitely not friends, far from it. They both yelled and screamed at each other any chance they got, what made Louis say such a thing? It was bizarre and insane.

The rose ceremony was as dramatic as always, Niall coming into the frame right on cue to add the suspense. Giving long monologues with just the right amount of pause for the contestants to wonder if they were going to go home. Chad got the first rose and some of the remaining contestants audibly groaned at the selection. It made for great television but grinded Zayn’s gears, the bloke was such a prick. Chad accepted his rose with the same false smile as he always had and kissed the side of Liam’s mouth, causing them both to giggle and blush. Gag. Liam was just as dense as Zayn and half of England predicted. Falling for the obvious mind games Chad was playing. Louis was eating it up, loving every single gross second of it. If camera weren’t rolling all the time and Zayn’s job wasn’t on the line, he’d love to just smack Chad right across the face. Treat him like the piece of shit he really was. No one liked him and it was fair to say no one outside the mansion, in his real life, like him either.