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irispublishersmedicaljournals · 4 years ago

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Iris Publishers - Current Trends in Clinical & Medical Sciences (CTCMS)

Can Emergency Medicine Become Redundant?

Authored by Andrew Hague

Injury and illness

Injury and illness are the two medical problems. Injury can be sudden and requires emergency treatment. Illness is incremental and treated progressively.

Doctors are role models

Much work is done to prevent illness. We see this in better hygiene, personal and social; washing hands and sanitation. Lifestyle affects health and people are advised on diet and exercise. The equivalent advice from doctors about emergencies and injuries is missing. In all societies, doctors are role models. We all grew up thankful for the attention of a doctor at some stage. They brought us into this life and will see us out. Seldom do they pronounce on politics and although they have a good income are never seen as having more than their fair share of wealth. People respect doctors and this status should be used by doctors to influence behaviour. Doctors, whether they like it or not, are role models. What they say, is influential.

Causes of injury

There are four classes of causes of injury:

4. Misfortune

From the first of carelessness to the last of misfortune, the chance of avoiding disaster gets less which means that a doctor has less influence. Nevertheless, statements by doctors will be heeded and when it is understood that the doctor invites redundancy this advice will be respected. We wish for the same from the police and fire brigades. Indeed, the fire service devotes a lot of effort to inspecting buildings for fire safety. Do the police invest time preventing crime or is that left to the deterrent effect of sentencing and punishment? In many cases, it is hoped that people will be careful to avoid injury but still they turn up at the A&E in pain and talking about accidents. Investigators admit that the truth is there are no accidents, only mistakes that were avoidable.

Consequences

A child has no concept of consequences. Over time, by trial and error coupled to imitation, the process of conditioning adds to the memory bank and the child becomes an adult aware of the consequences of their actions. People who have not acquired this knowledge should be recognized by doctors for their ignorance which will become evident in frequent visits to the clinic. Their teachers will have already identified these people at school as slow learners. It is in these encounters that doctors have a role to play. Interestingly, the accident prone are not always those scoring low in education. There are many explanations for mistakes. The person who does nothing may stay safe but achieve nothing and the ambitious may push the boundaries of sense to explore beyond. This is the consequence of having the brain we acquired when we mutated into homo sapiens.

Carelessness

There is an assumption that tidiness is safer than a mess. Do more accidents happen in a messy or tidy workplace? I do not know but from my own experience and this includes owning a factory for many years, a mess is not the cause of mistakes and tripping over wires. Where there are obvious dangers, people are alert and avoid them. When there is deceptive safety, one’s attention can wander letting the day dreamer trip or walk into a half open door. Our brains are not born to cope with neatness. The cave and the jungle floor are always a tangle and walking depend on watching where to put your feet for every step. Only since manufacturing required orderliness has a clear path become essential. This allows carelessness.

There is the often-quoted story of two mountaineers trying to find their way to the Royal Geographical Society through the back streets of London. These men had climbed the world’s mountains and then one of them tripped over the kerb when crossing the road in London and broke his leg. As a doctor, what can you advise to prevent such mishaps? Obviously, the fellow was safer on Mount Everest than the paved streets of London.

I visit many countries and complain when I cannot drink the tap water and walk at ease in the towns because of the holes in the pavements. However, I do admit that the locals never seem to fall on those pavements and neither did I; I had to watch where I was going. Carelessness is thus a response to a deceptively safe situation. Add some dangers, as our cavemen-forebears expected, and there should be fewer accidents. Modern manufacturing which is as automated as possible has reduced the chances of injury. Earlier methods often allowed the operator to injure themselves.

Working a fly press involves placing the component under the press tool and swinging the handle to bring the tool down with a load of anything from 5 to 50 tons. Repeating this cycle ten times a minute creates a rhythm of complacency. When the left hand moves before the right hand instead of the other way around, the hand can be under the press with disastrous consequences. Later improvements were to install guards; the guard came down before the press. That resulted in some cases of the guard trapping the hand preventing it being withdrawn from danger. The operator had to wait a second, which can be a long time in these circumstances, for their hand to be amputated in one blow.

Eventually, designers arranged for the descent of the press to be controlled by two buttons, one a shoulder’s width away from the other so that both hands had to be on a button before and whilst the press came down. The release of one button would stop the descent of the press and interrupt the cycle. Automatic pick and place machines have mostly replaced human press loading and it is only where labour costs are so low that investment in automation cannot be justified that workers are exposed to dangers. Automation is criticized for creating unemployment.

It increases productivity and safety. Only the setter, the person setting the tools under the press, is in danger when preparing a new tool in the production process. As the setting task is not repetitive with each step having to be thought about, the injuries are fewer. Setters were in danger if someone switched on the machine not realizing there was a person at the back or inside. These calamities not only resulted in death but led to claims of manslaughter incriminating the person who switched on the machine and the employer. The answer was for the setter to isolate the machine and withdraw a key to the control box, lock it and keep the key in his pocket so that the machine remained inactive until the setter switched on again.

Recklessness

This is where we remember the story of the boy cycling around the house and as he takes his hands off the handlebars he shouts, “Look Mummy, no hands”. A few minutes later he reappears and shouts, “Look Mummy, no teeth”. Due to his bravado, he had crashed. The same happens driving cars at speed, playing with knives or generally showing off. The need to be reckless, seen more in youth than maturity, is shuffling into pecking order to find a place in the hierarchy of society. Less skill means more crashes and you slip down the scale of ability. Balance a football on your nose and the crowd will cheer. Humans play these games because they position each person where they can best support the tribe.

Modern society does not depend on physical skills. The computer nerd is today’s leader. When a doctor explains to the children at the local school that fooling about is dangerous, some sense may prevail and lead to fewer injuries. Recklessness will persist because the desire to show physical prowess is innate. With education essential for survival today, the clever ones are revered, and this will influence our species as physical strength and agility is less desirable in the gene pool compared to mental ability. All species adapt to the environment or become extinct.

The human environment is changed by our own behaviour and we are these days in the midst of an evolutionary shift. The damage we inflict on the environment causing climate change is expected to lead to our extinction. It certainly will but only if it kills us before we kill ourselves by preventing deaths through extended longevity so that adaptive mutations cease. This is a medical emergency beyond the ability of emergency doctors.

Aggression

Lack of fear and aggression goes together. When a wild dog approaches a group, it will sense the meek one who is afraid and attack. This is enabled by the electrical circuits and magnetic fields by which brains operate and is how humans and animals can relate to each other. As a doctor, you will have learned little about this at medical school and yet it is fundamental to behavioural studies and cancer [1]. Aggression is useful in primitive society when dealing with predators, less so in a civilised society. The military employs soldiers trained as commandos, to operate behind enemy lines and, where necessary, kill with their bare hands. Such a person, who can emerge from an assignment and look unperturbed is almost unknown. When the fictional James Bond peals off his diving suit and walks nonchalantly into the bar for a drink shaken and not stirred, he is nothing more than entertainment. The brain does not work that way. An actor can play the role to the cameras but in real life, the adrenalin and tension involved dominates the soldier and, for many of these people, rehabilitation is difficult.

As a doctor, dealing with the effects of aggression, especially when coupled with alcohol and drugs, is a nightmare. To stop it would amount to eliminating those people programmed to be aggressive. Either they find a role in the security forces and we hope they obey the law, or they become useful to organized crime. The doctor will sense these attributes in a young person. I doubt they can be ameliorated. The only way is to direct that person into a role where they can be useful, and the military is an opportunity.

Misfortune

This is being in the wrong place at the wrong time. There is little a doctor can do to prevent victims being struck by misfortune. Awareness of danger is everywhere. Entertainment media dwells on buildings exploding, cars flying off the road and rolling down the mountain, jumping out of a plane and landing safely in a haystack. I feel that this awareness diminishes the sense of danger rather than creating risk avoidance.

News programs refer to natural disasters. They are not disasters. Avalanches, earthquakes, floods and forest fires are natural phenomena that have occurred since the earth was formed and will continue after our species is extinct. In many cases, they are predictable and thereby avoidable. Modern weather forecasting can give two days’ notice of a cyclone or hurricane, time enough to move people to shelter. Living on the side of a volcano where the soil is fertile is always tempting but the gases rolling down from the crater can be poisonous and when the volcano erupts the lava is destructive. You don’t need to be a doctor or a geologist to warn of such dangers.

This is where the sober, thoughtful advice of a doctor carries a lot of weight. Every community has its danger areas. It may be the high cliffs, a motorway, a mosquito ridden swamp, places where the unsuspecting can get into trouble. Tell the community leaders. They will listen to you. Fences can be erected at the edges of the cliffs and busy road and the swamp can be sprayed to control the mosquitos. Always present a solution to the problem and be sure you have no relationship with the contractor who will carry out the work.

Psychology

Preventing injuries involves more psychology than physical medicine. Psychology still falls within the skills of a doctor. There is little scope for direct action. The best a doctor can do is influence and advise and it is by being a doctor that notice will be taken of your advice. The inevitable conclusion will be that humans are accident prone and seek rather than avoid trouble. The doctor is then expected to repair the injuries just as a garage would fix a car damaged in a crash.

I have left their hyperlinks in place. The extent that the injuries can be traced back to psychological causes differs. Certainly, a disturbed mind leads to suicide and violence and very likely to road crashes. Many years ago, when I was teaching sociology to an adult college class in which we were studying criminology, I proposed a cure that I still believe is the only cure and is in most cases impossible; the cure for criminality is to sentence the criminal to a good home. Here is a murderer. Please love him. The explanations were made by John Bowlby in the 1960s and earlier. His best-read book is Child Care and the Growth of Love [3]. Only by parental love can a child acquire empathy and be able to pass love on to others. These bonds are essential in human groups and exist in all animals. Recent botanical research adds to this insight by finding electrical relationships between plants. A person who grew up unloved can be expected to not fit into society. They will not accept the common rules of behaviour and be unaware of others’ feelings. Without empathy, cruelty is easy. Should this individual become a parent, the children will also lack bonds.

Doctors will recognize these people and their disruptive, often temporary, families. They are crimes and injuries in the making. What can a doctor do to prevent future mishaps? On the face of it, very little. Most doctors work inside a bureaucracy and there will be no scope for interfering in a patient’s private life, for that it is how it will be perceived. In earlier times, religious leaders would step in, but their leadership has given way to the smart phone screen which cannot love, only excite and provoke. Sociologists call it alienation and anomie; being cut off from society and having no feeling of belonging. If this were the lack of vitamins or a virus infecting the blood, a doctor could and would do something. The affected (instead of infected) patient is equally in need of help but seldom is a doctor seen as the person to turn to. Eventually, it will be the police and their aim are to pass to the courts, then prison. Society offers no cure despite knowing the cause and suffering the consequences. If what cures is medicine, then here we need social medicine. I contend that doctors apply medicine. If it is not the police to become involved, at least it will be the emergency doctor stitching up knife wounds.

Even amongst well brought up people there is a range of temperaments from placid to impetuous. Impatience can cause injury. Think of bad driving or pushing in a queue. Does such an irritable person need a tranquilizer? Theoretically, extreme behaviours could be chemically restricted, a technique sure to cause ethical arguments. People self-administer their personality shift with alcohol in one direction and caffeine in the other. I advise against both drugs, but they are popular. Medically there is no safe upper limit for alcohol. Coffee is fully accepted, approved and big business. Politicians create laws, companies lobby politicians and consumers accept laws. I love coffee, its taste and smell, but I read my own senses, and something tells me to be wary; minimize on coffee. Look after the brain for a healthy body. Anything that affects the brain is dangerous. This does not include listening to Beethoven.

I have little sympathy with addiction because I see it as selfinflicted. More compassionate souls feel sorry for those who cannot stop doing something. In the context of injuries, think of speed and racing. The winner is the one who placed their life most at risk. That is stupid but the audience loves it and next time greater risks will be taken. Confined to a racetrack, only the participants get hurt. On the open road, you and I can be hit. I remember a doctor assigned to a Formula One racing team explaining that every bone in their star driver had been broken at least once. Didn’t that put him off? No, he is addicted, and nothing will stop him. At the end of the line, the publicity was increasing the sales of something.

Trauma Infection

The first action on a trauma patient brought into Accident and Emergency on a stretcher, assuming the bleeding has been staunched by the medics, is to treat with a CellSonic VIPP machine to kill all and any infection. The intense pulses will penetrate to catch germs thrust into the wound. Importantly, stem cells of the right type in the right quantity will be delivered in the blood to exactly the right place by the immune system responding to the pulses. The blood will automatically have more oxygen and growth factors to aid healing. All this can be done before the doctor arrives to inspect the patient.

Professor Richard Coombes, an orthopedic surgeon of Charing Cross Hospital in London always said that CellSonic VIPP machines should be standard equipment in all emergency units. After the wounds and bones have been set, use the CellSonic again to kill any infection. This can be instead of antibiotics or allow a much lower dose of antibiotic. The benefit is saving the patient from developing antibacterial resistance and reducing the contamination of local rivers whereby antibiotics travel through the patient and the sewage system to rivers where fish and surrounding land are contaminated.

Conclusion

Doctors can help to reduce the demand for emergency medicine. It requires an extension of their usual skills into the therapy of psychology and social manipulation. Humans have brains which search for change. In the process, they hurt themselves and each other and call upon doctors in an emergency. If a more placid life is desirable, emergencies will be rare but that is not the current trend. Expect more horrors. To read more about this article: https://irispublishers.com/ctcms/fulltext/can-emergency-medicine-become-redundant.ID.000503.php

Indexing List of Iris Publishers: https://medium.com/@irispublishers/what-is-the-indexing-list-of-iris-publishers-4ace353e4eee

Iris publishers google scholar citations: https://scholar.google.co.in/scholar?hl=en&as_sdt=0%2C5&q=irispublishers&btnG=

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mostlycompetentwriter · 6 years ago

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It’s All About The Game- Part 1

Freshman Year

Pairing: OC x Seo Changbin (Stray Kids)

Genre: High School AU, Enemies to Lovers, Sports Fiction (basketball, man!)

Warnings: None (at least for this part)

Word Count: Almost 13,000

Summary: Kayda Reynolds is an introverted and highly intelligent student who has trouble making friends and prefers a quiet existence amongst her classmates. However, her life is about to become a lot more interesting when she accidentally captures the attention of her high school’s all-star basketball player, Seo Changbin.

Notes: My new series is officially here! Just for the record, I am indeed mostly competent because I totally forgot how driving laws work (as in, I’m in college now and I can’t remember the process I underwent to get my learner’s permit/license)... There might be some disparities but they don’t really affect the story itself.

Freshman Year

August

My first impression of Seo Changbin was incredibly unfavorable. The school’s all-star basketball player was extremely arrogant, egotistical, conceited to the point where he couldn’t see past his own obnoxiously handsome countenance, and terribly unlikeable. This might be difficult to concede when you consider the masses of students who follow him around like he’s some sort of bonafide celebrity. But I knew it had more to do with his handsome looks and wealthy upbringing as opposed to some sort of appealing personality.

In fact, everything about Seo Changbin screamed expensive from the brand name Velour pants he insisted on wearing to the unnecessary Dior sunglasses perched attractively on the brim of his nose. The thought of paying more than a dollar or two for a decent pair of glasses was practically haunting for someone who was lucky to eat out once a month. But I’m sure Seo Changbin got whatever he wanted because his family was able to afford the finer luxuries in life courtesy of their pompous real estate business.

Of course, I want to firmly establish that I am in no way jealous of Seo Changbin. On the contrary, I feel sorry for someone who can’t even realize that their popularity stems from the most materialistic means possible. I mean, he’s a good basketball player, and I’ve heard rumors that the men’s Varsity coach was heavily scouting him. But, as a basketball player myself, that’s the extent of the compliments I would ever allow.

And I remember the first time I ever met Seo Changbin because he had just transferred to our middle school. Everyone was talking about him, and I was curious myself because I had never seen any of my classmates so excited to welcome a potential transfer. But on the first day of tryouts, when the girls and boys were forced to share the gym together, I figured out why the others wouldn’t stop talking about the mysterious boy.

You see, Seo Changbin might be contemptuous, but not without due cause. The young athlete was an outstanding ballplayer, moving up and down the court with impossible speed. He could shoot from every point on the floor and held some sort of record for most steals in a single game. It was intimidating, to say the least, and I finally understood why everyone was so enamored.

I remember watching Changbin from afar while the rest of us ran through our drills. And I, of course, didn’t know him very well, so my naive adolescent self was not aware of the nasty attitude hiding beneath that impressive talent. But it would be the first and last time I ever made that mistake.

“Let’s scrimmage the boys,” our coach had randomly suggested to which we all groaned in complaint. “It’ll be good for you,” she insisted, blatantly ignoring our protests.

“It’s embarrassing,” one of our players whined. The poor girl had a crush on one of the more popular members of the boy’s team, an impeccable shooting guard who hardly ever missed a point.

Regardless of our input, both coaches made the arrangement and I found myself bringing the ball up the court while staring down the school’s newest recruit. Now, I don’t want to sound self-deprecating, but sixth grade was not my shining year as a basketball player. I had only started playing the year before and, despite my substantial progress, I wasn’t very good. But nothing could be more demeaning than repeatedly finding yourself on the receiving end of Seo Changbin’s impeccable ability to steal the ball from right under your hands, leaving you behind in the dust as he coasted the court to score countless layups because of your incompetence. Not to mention the one time I attempted to block his layup and the arrogant asshole left me lying on my ass after lowering his shoulder (which was, and still is, heavily illegal) to make a shot.

After that practice ended, I quickly left the gym before any of those horrible boys had the chance to mock me for my failed efforts. And from that day on, I worked relentlessly to become a better player, fixing my fundamentals and building a steady foundation to improve my abilities as a point guard. Nevertheless, the humiliation stayed with me, providing a haunting presence every time I messed up during a game and watched a rival player steal the ball or block my shots.

And it might not be fair to blame Changbin since he was just playing the game, and I initially gave him the benefit of the doubt, but he proved just how despicable he was the following day at school. You see, I can recall standing at my locker to exchange textbooks, mindlessly occupied with an assignment weighing heavily on my subconscious. Suddenly, without any sort of warning, the devil himself slammed my locker shut, leaning against the wall while wearing an evil smirk. “Did you enjoy getting your ass kicked yesterday?” the newcomer taunted me, glancing back at his new friends who laughed at the comment.

I attempted to ignore him, re-trying my combination, but Changbin simply pressed his hand against the door. “I asked you a question.”

I let out a tired sigh. “Please don’t.”

Changbin sneered and I knew I had made a fatal error by not walking away when the opportunity had first presented itself. “Don’t what? Were you expecting me to hold your hand? Lead you down the court and stand aside so you might make a shot?”

A crowd had gathered around us. “How the hell did you even make the basketball team in the first place?”

My face was an unpleasant shade of red. “I don’t think you’re qualified to ignore me. Don’t you know who I am?”

Just walk away, I repeatedly chanted to myself as I let out a deep exhale. Changbin roughly grabbed my arm, ignoring my protests. “Do us all a favor and quit before you embarrass the entire school.”

The sounds of my classmates’ laughter followed me all the way to the front office where I feigned a headache. My mother came to pick me up from school later, attributing my tears to my non-existent ailment, driving me home in the backseat of our minivan so that I could cry alone in the solitude of my bedroom.

Throughout the remainder of middle school, I suffered under an endless barrage of torment from Changbin. By the time my eighth grade year had arrived, most of my classmates seemed to understand that I was Changbin’s little punching toy, standing aside as they observed our encounters. A display of teasing that only I was forced to endure because Changbin never really bothered anyone else in the same way.

I was fed up with everything and everyone, including my bitchy teammates who often complained about extra workouts. Or, in the case of one glorious spring evening, being forced to scrimmage the men’s team yet again. Because, apparently, that was just the worst thing that could ever possibly happen.

“Against the boys?” Lucy cried, our starting forward desperate to change our coach’s mind.

But she was stoic. “It will help me see where we need to improve before the next game.”

I nodded my agreement, vacantly paying attention as I eyed the gathered boy’s team warming up on the opposite end of the court. They were all standing around Seo Changbin like the useless droids they were, obedient to their master. How could anyone be so subservient?

And I could easily recall the last time Changbin and I had scrimmaged one another. It was impossible to forget because of the tragic conclusion, marking the starting point of his teasing I received on a daily basis. Perhaps anyone would shy away from the possibility of enduring that mortification once again.

However, this time I was determined, and our coach was surprised when I requested to guard Seo Changbin. “He’s the best player,” she argued half-heartedly since nobody on my team was really capable of defending him.

“I can manage,” I told her with a nod.

Which is why, after the game began, I carefully approached Changbin as he dribbled down the court in my direction, studying him with rapt attention. Almost immediately I determined that he favored his right hand, which wasn’t uncommon in young point guards. So I forced him to go left, detecting weakness in the slight fumble to his rhythm.

For the remainder of the first quarter, I kept my distance from Changbin, mostly going through the motions as I made mental notes of where I might take advantage. I was rather good at that sort of thing, studying my opponents with far more attention than most people allow. But everyone had a weakness, including Seo Changbin.

It had happened a few minutes into the second quarter. One moment, Changbin was confidently calling out a play while mindlessly dribbling at the top of the key, when at the next, his jaw was practically touching the floor as I swiped the ball right out of his hands. I hustled to the opposite goal, easily managing a perfectly executed layup while my teammates, for once, cheered me on from the sidelines. Changbin’s eyes were wide with wonder when I marched over to poke him in the center of his chest. “I don’t mess around, Seo.”

He leaned in closer, amusement evident in his countenance. “Game on, Reynolds.”

September

Leaving for school in the morning was always a dramatic affair, especially since I was forced to ride with an older neighbor who clearly despised the arrangement. However, considering the numerous benefits my parents offered, including free transportation courtesy of the Honda my father bought for me, I could tell she was reluctantly grateful. And since I was still too young to qualify for my learner’s permit, I was forced to rely on someone else to avoid the dreaded bus system.

Unfortunately, there were always other drivers to worry about: a chaotic mixture of adults racing to get to their boring office jobs on time while adolescent teenagers disregarded speed limits signs because they decided to sleep past their alarms. I was one of the few who chose to leave later simply because I didn’t appreciate the hassle of having to talk to other people before classes started. Instead, I liked to show up moments before the first bell rang, finding my desk at the front of my homeroom class for mandatory attendance.

However, despite the apprehensive task of minding other inconsiderate idiots on the road, I had grown complacent on my morning commute. After all, as long as my mostly indifferent neighbor paid close enough attention, we could usually keep ourselves out of any possible trouble. Of course, for this morning in particular, I suppose we had done our absolute best but some people are impossible to predict.

As soon as the initial stupor of being rear-ended faded away, I shot out of the car and immediately paced around to the back, groaning when I realized the idiot driver behind us had destroyed my bumper. I carefully fought back tears, hating the idea of having to call my parents and tell them the Honda was a total wreck. But what else could I do when my car looked like it had seen its final moments?

“Reynolds?”

I swallowed hard as I turned to meet the amused gaze of Seo Changbin, AKA the idiot driver who had successfully ruined my morning. And the only person who still insisted on calling me by my last name like he had done since the sixth grade. “Of course,” I grumbled, watching him as he approached with way too much swagger in his gait.

“You ruined my new paint job!” Changbin exclaimed, ignoring his obviously pissed off passenger who was currently cursing at my incensed neighbor.

“Is that really the problem?” I questioned, studying the arrogant boy with clear disdain, compliments of years of withheld hostility.

“What the hell, Reynolds?” Changbin spat at me, kneeling down to observe the ruined front end of his expensive Corvette.

“You ran into us!” I protested, fumbling with my cellphone as I tried to call the emergency number. “How did you even get a learner’s permit?”

Changbin’s eyes widened when he realized what I was doing, reaching over to cover my phone screen with his hand. “You don’t need to do that, Reynolds, I can just write you a check.”

I frowned as he reached into the front seat of his car, grabbing a pen and his book. “How much do you want? It’s probably an old model anyway, it shouldn’t cost more than a couple hundred dollars. Maybe you can invest in a newer car and get rid of this piece of shit.”

I let out a ragged sigh.

In hindsight, I suppose it might have been better if I had just simply allowed Changbin to write me a check. After all, I could have probably swindled the idiot into writing me more than what the damage was worth. But something inside of me had finally cracked, breaking down every wall I had attempted to build around the insults he taunted me with through the hallways, the arrogant comments he threw my way during basketball practices, and the never-ending attempts to get a rise out of me. So, for this incident, in particular, I wasn’t prepared to passively accept whatever he thought his arrogant ass could get away with. I was fed up with Seo Changbin and everything that he stood for. Perhaps this was my chance to finally prove a point, and I was willing to take complete advantage.

“You asshole,” I gritted out, harshly shoving against an unsuspecting Changbin who actually stumbled back from my unexpected attack. “I don’t want your filthy money! My car was just fine before you decided to text on your iPhone and smash into my bumper. Not everyone has the privilege of mommy and daddy filling their back account with blood money so that you can buy everything you want in life. My parents saved for years to buy me this car just so that I could get to school every morning. Now, thanks to you, my car won’t ever be the same and I’ll have to use the bus and spend more of the money we don’t have just to get here on time!”

Changbin was stunned into silence, eyes wide and appraising as he gaped at me like a glorified clown. But I, apparently, wasn’t finished with my unexpected tirade. “I don’t care that you have a lot of money. I don’t care that your girlfriend is a whore. I don’t care that you can make thirty points in a basketball game because you never pass the ball to your teammates. I just want to get these four years in peace. In fact!” I started, taking a deep breath, “I’ll be better off with you as far away from me as possible! Now, get the hell out of my way so that I can file a report to the police. Hopefully, they revoke your learner’s permit. Although, you can probably just get another overpaid driver to take you to school while I suffer every morning.”

I lifted my cellphone to my ear, placing the call with a shaky hand while explaining to the lady on the other end everything that had happened. “Are you injured ma’am?” she asked me.

I actually smiled at the seemingly innocuous question. “I’m just fine.”

October

Basketball tryouts were rapidly approaching and I was working harder on shooting drills as opposed to benign biology reports. Every evening when I finally got home from school, courtesy of my patched up Honda Civic and still-seething neighbor, I would change into work-out clothes and spend hours outside at the basketball goal until my mother called me in for dinner. I was desperate to make a good impression, scavenging video footage of last year’s Varsity team while doing everything in my power to stay on the head coach’s radar, like picking up leftover equipment from the Freshman gym classes or volunteering to mop the court after hours.

Basketball had become important to me and I was determined to do everything in my power to succeed. Thus, when the first day of try-outs began, I could already beam with pride when the coach called out my name and offered a generous welcome before moving on with the remainder of the students. Flashing an award-winning smile, even after enduring sprint marathon running, I managed to successfully make it past the first day with shining colors.

“Kayda Reynolds,” my coach called out for me after practice, “excellent job today.”

I was on cloud nine, carefully packing my duffel bag, ignoring the accompanying men’s team hopefuls who had just entered the gym for their session. As I was zipping the top closed, I noticed a bright yellow sneaker had just entered my peripheral vision. I turned around slowly, groaning when I saw Seo Changbin standing directly behind me. I tried to ignore him, tossing my bag across my shoulder, but the irritating boy simply walked in front of me, forcing me to a halt. “Hey, listen, Reynolds,” he started sheepishly with uncharacteristic shyness, “I’m sorry about your car. I hope they fixed it at the garage.”

I glared in his direction. After our parents had shown up to the scene, Changbin’s father recommended a nice body shop nearby that did a lot of work for them. He promised to pay the costs to repair my car, fixing his son with a reprimanding glare that actually left the great Seo Changbin wilting under that stern look. “It’s fine,” I offered in response, pushing past Changbin as I hurried to the door.

“No, Reynolds, I’m serious,” Changbin tried again, grabbing my arm and pulling me back. It was difficult to ignore the sudden flashback, reminding me of a similar scene from my sixth grade terror years. I jerked my arm out of his grip and he allowed it with only a questioning brow. “I hope it’s just the same as it was.”

“Look, Changbin,” I sighed, “I don’t really have time for a conversation. My car is fine, alright?”

Changbin hesitated, dark eyes studying me closely. “I’m really sorry, Reynolds.”

His apology brushed me the wrong way simply because I had never heard Seo Changbin genuinely apologize for anything in his life. “I don’t have time for your jokes,” I snapped in his direction. “If your father forced you to do this, then you can tell him mission accomplished, okay? I don’t want to deal with you anymore.”

I left him there in the middle of the gym, feeling a small sense of accomplishment and pride for standing up for myself once again.

November

The final members of the Varsity girl’s basketball team were announced at the end of the day. I was relieved to see my name amongst the list, even if it was the very last entrant. Nevertheless, I was in a good mood as I followed behind the crowd of my excited new teammates, clambering in the direction of my Honda, exhausted after another long practice.

Unfortunately, such an exuberant celebration could only last for so long, and I paused in the middle of the parking lot when I realized a familiar silver Corvette was situated directly next to my Honda where my neighbor was waiting. I rolled my eyes when I realized Changbin was standing next to the car, arms crossed over his chest as he ignored the little giggles my teammates let out when they saw him. I contemplated returning to the gym and waiting for him to finally leave when he realized I wasn’t coming. Maybe he was dumb enough to think I had managed a ride home with someone else.

“No,” I grumbled out loud, “even Changbin isn’t that stupid.”

I reluctantly traversed the remaining steps to my car, frowning when Changbin’s eyes finally located my hesitant form. “Reynolds,” he called out to me, opening the passenger side door of his stupidly expensive car to retrieve something, speaking in a low tone to the older student waiting in the backseat.

“What did I do to deserve this?” I wondered to whoever might be listening, wishing I could reverse time and do things over again from that fateful collision. Maybe I could convince the Kayda from September to leave home earlier, dismissing my concern to water my mother’s suffering plants.

Nevertheless, I waited until Changbin pulled back from his car to hand me what appeared to be a roll of duct tape. “Is this another joke?” I asked wearily.

“It’s bumper guard,” he announced proudly, looking at me as if in profound expectation.

“And?”

Changbin’s smile never wavered as he took the tape back from me and directed me to the back of my car. He measured out a long roll, patting it down against my new bumper guard. “It helps prevent scratches and scuff marks,” he explained while I stood there in confusion.

“Thanks?” I managed when he finally confronted me again.

“It’s no problem, Reynolds,” he said, patting the side of my Honda.

“Uh-huh,” I muttered while reaching for my door handle.

“I can get you anything you want, Reynolds,” Changbin spoke again, standing firmly in the way of allowing me to join my neighbor inside.

“Changbin,” I groaned, deciding to end this self-inflicted misery once and for all. “I don’t know why you’re suddenly doing these things, but you don’t have to anymore, alright? There’s no way your father could still be punishing you, and you don’t need to feel bad or whatever for what happened. I just want to move on.”

Changbin pursed his lips. “You don’t like the attention, Reynolds?”

I frowned at his comment. “Attention?”

Changbin chuckled, leaning back against his car. “I mean, it’s no secret that I’m a pretty big deal around here.”

And there was his never-ending supply of arrogance to resume normality.

“I thought it might be nice if I gave you some attention. You seemed really bent out of shape after the accident.”

I exhaled slowly. “You think I wanted your attention to make up for the hell you put me through?”

Changbin stuttered, eyes widening in surprise. “The hell I put you through? Reynolds, it was just a minor bump.”

“Fuck, Changbin,” I cursed, instantly regretting doing so. “It’s not just the accident, you’ve been an asshole since I first met you in the sixth grade. You’ve done everything possible to call me out despite the fact that I never wanted anything to do with you! Please at least grant me this one favor and stop bothering me.”

Changbin seemed at a loss for words. “You don’t like me?”

“Is it some big revelation that there might be someone on this planet who hates you?” I sneered.

Changbin visibly deflated, if just for a brief moment. “You hate me, Reynolds?”

“Of course I do!” I practically shouted. “What made you think otherwise! Changbin, you’re the most conceited, arrogant asshole I’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting.”

“Come on, Reynolds,” Changbin tried to play it off. “I was just joking around.”

“Joking around?!” I fumed. “Changbin, you made me feel worthless when I was in sixth grade. I had just started playing basketball and you successfully made me want to quit. In fact, if it wasn’t for my dad, I probably would have taken your advice to drop off the team. Why would I ever like someone who always put me down because they thought they were superior to everyone else? You might have the rest of the school eating out of the palm of your hand, but you haven’t fooled me. For all the money your family has in the world, I would never want to be like you.” I muscled open my car door, glaring down Changbin as he took a step back. “This is me telling you to back off.”

December

The Christmas tournament was always an extravagant affair in our community. All the teams in the county, including rival conferences, were invited to our school for a series of competitive basketball games. It was an honor to compete and the committee in charge always held additional ceremonies to honor the players. For example, one of the most popular traditions allowed an MVP from each competing men’s team to choose a lucky girl as a recipient of their admiration. Likewise, the chosen player gave a rose to any girl he desired in the audience. It was a dismal affair, superficial in every way, and I could only cringe as I watched each subsequent display of “affection.” I was grateful that nobody ever bothered choosing me because I couldn’t handle that sort of arrogant display.

“Seo Changbin,” the coordinator announced while beckoning him forward. Changbin accepted his rose with an unnecessary bow, taking the microphone while all the girls in the gymnasium swooned at the sight. I spotted Changbin’s off-and-on again girlfriend waiting expectantly in the front row. I couldn’t remember if they were together now or not, since their break-ups were so frequent.

“Thank you,” Changbin said to the coordinator before surveying the court. I froze when his eyes landed on me. “I pick Kayda Reynolds.”

Upon his declaration, I refused to remove from my spot on the bench, only reacting when my coach harshly dug her fingers into my shoulder, fixing me with a hard stare. I tried not to protest as I slowly made my way to center court, cheeks blushing with red. I took the rose Changbin extended in my direction, glaring him down as he returned my look with one of equal determination. His arm wrapped around my shoulders, bringing my stiffening form against his side for a picture. “I like a challenge, Reynolds,” he whispered, leaving me with a dumbfounded expression for the photographer to memorialize.

January

Christmas break ended far too soon, which meant I was confronted with the unwanted task of returning to school at 8:00 AM on a frigid Monday morning. Stepping outside with a coffee, the last thing I expected to see was Seo Changbin’s car waiting at the sidewalk with the man in question leaning out the window. “Reynolds!” he called for me. “Let’s go!”

I stormed over to Changbin with heavy steps. “What the hell is this?” I hissed through the window. “How do you know where I live?”

Changbin grinned. “It was written on the accident report.”

“Regardless,” I snarled, “I don’t need your help getting to school.”

“Reynolds,” Changbin tried again, “I’m trying to be nice.”

“I don’t want you to be anything,” I sighed. “I always ride with my neighbor in my car, and you obviously know that since you tried to total it!”

“But mine is nicer,” he arrogantly commented, “you can ride to school in luxury.”

“The only luxury I need is for you to be out of my life,” I said, glancing around quickly to make sure nobody was observing this odd exchange.

“You can’t bring that coffee in here,” Changbin continued. “I don’t want you spilling that shit on my interior.”

“I’m not riding with you,” I growled.

“Look, Reynolds,” Changbin smirked. “If you ride with me today, then I’ll leave you alone.”

Considering his recent pattern of behavior, the promise was rather shallow. “Really?”

“Let me clear my conscious,” Changbin said, smoothing his hands against the steering wheel. “Just one ride to school.”

“Is that all it takes?” I snorted, eyeing him suspiciously.

“What do you have to lose, Reynolds?”

“My pride,” I deadpanned, enjoying the frustration written across his countenance.

“You’re really hard to get along with, Reynolds.”

“You’re one to talk,” I quipped, letting out an exaggerated sigh. “Are you even allowed to drive with more than one person?”

“Does that really concern you, Reynolds?”

I rolled my eyes. “If this gets you off my back, then I’ll do it.”

I dumped my coffee cup into the trash bin at the end of the block before coming around to fumble with the door of Changbin’s car. “I turned your seat warmer on,” he informed me once I was securely inside.

“Thanks,” I muttered dryly, fastening my seatbelt as he abruptly toed the gas pedal, jerking the car forward with far too much speed. “Slow down,” I hissed. “No wonder you hit my car.”

“For your information, Reynolds,” Changbin said. “That was my first accident.”

“It’s true!” the same guy from the accident commented from the backseat. “Changbin is actually a good driver. He won’t need supervision for much longer.”

“Then I’m glad your first accident was me,” I remarked sarcastically, closing my eyes as I sent up a prayer for safety, only relaxing when Changbin pulled his car into a front row parking spot of our school’s student lot. “Great,” I huffed, “now leave me alone.”

“Hold on, Reynolds,” Changbin called out to me, ignoring the obvious way I hastened my steps as he easily fell into pace with me on the sidewalk. “What are you doing after school? We don’t have practice today, I can take you home.”

“I guess I have no choice since you drove me here,” I muttered, desperately trying to reach the front entrance. Hopefully, then, Changbin would wander off to find his ridiculous basketball friends.

“We could get something to eat?” he suggested calmly as if we were close acquaintances instead of mutual rivals.

“Didn’t you promise to leave me alone?” I whined.

“At least for today, Reynolds,” Changbin said with a pleading tone I wasn’t used to hearing from him.

“Don’t you have someone else you can go bother?”

“I like bothering you,” he teased, much to my chagrin. “But seriously, Reynolds, you know the Valentine’s dance is coming up?”

“And?”

“Basketball players are encouraged to go together.”

“You should try asking Monica,” I stated flatly, “I know she actually likes you.”

“I think we should go together, Reynolds,” he said, flooring me to a stop outside the doors.

“What?”

“You should be my date to the dance,” he rephrased carefully, gaze imploring. “I want to go with you.”

I rolled my eyes over his eager form. “I don’t like those things.”

“Just this once?”

“You keep saying that,” I sighed, “but you’re apparently horrible at keeping promises.”

“Kayda,” Changbin said, tone serious as he lightly grazed my arm, fingers wrapping around my shoulder. I was taken aback by the random use of my first name. “Please?”

“But you have a girlfriend,” I insisted, taking a step back to eliminate the unexpected contact between us. What the hell was wrong with him?

“Oh,” Changbin smirked, “is that why you keep turning me down? Trust me, Lisa and I aren’t together anymore.”

“I don’t really care,” I said, suddenly feeling the urge to turn down that possible justification. “Why do you even want to go with me?”

“Because,” he started, shuffling backward, “you’re a lot cooler than most of those girls.”

I blinked twice before managing a somewhat coherent response. “Excuse me?”

“You aren’t going with anyone,” Changbin said. “Even if you don’t like the dance, we can always leave early and do something else.”

Something truly strange must have happened to this boy over Christmas.

“I’m guessing you’ll keep bothering me until I say yes?”

Changbin brightened. “Probably?”

“Fine,” I conceded, “but I really don’t understand you, Changbin.”

And perhaps I never would.

February

“Aren’t they lovely?” my mother asked as she swooned over the roses my father had gifted her for Valentine’s day.

“Sure,” I mumbled because I could never understand why this kind of Holiday even existed.

Except to torture me, especially knowing what I was about to get myself into at the dance that evening.

“Kayda,” my mother gently chided me, “you don’t always have to be so negative.”

“I know,” I rolled my eyes. “Thanks for the reminder.”

“Do you need help getting ready for the dance tonight?”

I grimaced. “I’ll be fine.”

My mother, of course, had been positively ecstatic when she heard I was going to the school’s annual Valentine’s dance. It was mostly for underclassmen since Juniors and Seniors usually saved their time and effort for Prom. However, I happen to know that the whole event was exclusively designed so that adolescent teenagers could endure as much drama as possible before the evening had concluded.

“And with Seo Changbin,” my mother gushed. “He’s such a handsome young man.”

I guess she forgot about the fact that he had damaged my Honda.

“He’s something,” I said, watching as my mother fiddled with a vase for her precious flowers that might live for a week or two before wilting and dying away as all young love was destined to do.

How romantic.

FLASH!

I groaned as my father continued to snap pictures of me, trying for every angle possible while my mother messed with my hair and makeup. “Just beautiful,” she said, brushing off the invisible dust that had apparently coagulated on my dress sleeve.

“Don’t you have enough pictures?” I whined to my father, rubbing my eyes as I tried to rid my line of vision of those impeding black spots.

“You never dress like this,” my father whined in return, reminding me of where I had probably picked it up from.

“Because I hate it,” I gritted out, crossing my arms petulantly as I looked up at the clock.

Changbin was due to arrive at any minute and I definitely didn’t want my parents trying to talk to him. They would likely convince him that I was looking forward to the dance and that was the opposite of the truth. In fact, I would much rather stay here curled up in my bed with a decent thriller novel to occupy my time until I passed out for the night.

“He’s here!” my mother squealed as if she were the one going to the dance instead of me. Mere moments later our doorbell rang and I rolled my eyes at the ridiculous looks my parents wore.

“I really hate you guys right now,” I grumbled, opening the door to greet Changbin who waited on the other side, hands behind his back.

“Reynolds,” he smirked, eyes trailing up and down.

“You’re early,” I informed him, sighing loudly as I realized that meant we would have to spend even more time together. I was also aware of my parents watching from behind, so I rolled my eyes and grabbed Changbin’s jacket sleeve to pull him in the direction of his car.

“Are you finally excited, Reynolds?” he asked, letting out an uncharacteristic giggle as I paused at his car.

“Listen, Changbin,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest, “you better promise me that this isn’t some kind of weird joke or something.”

“Of course not, Reynolds,” Changbin said, appearing entirely confused as to why I could possibly think of such a thing.

“Then let’s get this over with,” I sighed, making myself comfortable in the passenger seat, briefly greeting the older couple waiting in the backseat.

I hadn’t even had the chance to really take in Changbin’s appearance properly, so I discreetly eyed him from the side as he drove. His suit screamed expensive, and the Gucci designer label on his jacket alerted me to the fact that he had spent thousands on an outfit he would probably disregard after tonight’s affairs. The shallowness of his appearance was yet another reminder that there was absolutely no logic behind the two of us being together for this event.

“Listen, Reynolds,” Changbin started, glancing at me briefly before returning his eyes to the road, “I know you weren’t looking forward to this, but I promise that we can leave whenever you want.”

I frowned at the sentiment. “I don’t usually do these things.”

“I know,” Changbin smiled as if happy I had made an exception for him. And if I had more energy, I would have promptly informed him that I was only doing this so that he would finally leave me alone at school. Now that a few stray rumors had recently started circulating about the two of us being spotted together in the parking lot, I was more than prepared to go back into my self-imposed isolation. “My friend Felix works on the committee who put this together,” Changbin added. “It’s supposed to be really cool.”

“I’m not very impressionable,” I said, wondering what sort of lunacy the delinquents in charge of Felix’s squad had rendered for this unnecessary dance. Lee Felix was notorious around the school for being extremely popular, often holding parties at his elaborate townhouse on the weekends since his parents flew a lot for business. And if the stupid lights reflecting off the school’s moldy brick exterior were anything to go by, then I was ready to be disappointed.

I held back a sigh as Changbin hurried to my side of the car, helping me out with a sweaty palm as if he were anything remotely close to a gentleman. “I paid for our tickets in advance,” Changbin said, refusing to let go of my hand despite the fact that I was openly tugging against his impossible hold.

Reluctantly, I let Changbin keep my poor appendage, following him up the front steps of the school’s gymnasium entrance. I could already hear the predominantly bass-filled music pouring outside. And, if I concentrated hard enough, I could smell the faint odor of bad weed emanating from somewhere out in the woods.

Changbin handed our tickets to the perplexed girl waiting at the front, eyes wide as she took in the strange sight of me and the school’s most popular douchebag hand in hand. I swallowed hard as Changbin maintained his firm grip, leading me inside to a nearby group of his friends. Meanwhile, the eyes of my classmates continued to follow us, silently judgemental. What was Seo Changbin doing, they were probably thinking, watching their precious star basketball player bring the school’s quiet isolationist to a time-honored occasion?

“Chan,” Changbin greeted one of the players, exchanging an unnecessarily complicated handshake.

“Kayda Reynolds,” Chan greeted me, and I was faintly surprised that the Senior boy even knows my name. Based on what I heard from the annoying group of girls who sat at the table behind me in Biology, Chan had been voted most popular boy in the Senior class. He was also the starting shooting guard for the men’s Varsity team which meant a hell of a lot around this community.

Changbin pulled me even closer upon Chan’s utterance of my name, inquiring about some sort of college tour Chan was scheduled to participate that weekend. If only I could have been a Senior already, then I’d make sure to attend university as far away from Changbin as possible. Perhaps then I might attain the peace I truly deserved.

And despite the fact that I was hoping to just stand there without having to muster a single word, inevitably, I was brought into the conversation. “I didn’t know you liked these things, Kayda,” one of my older teammates remarked. Eda was her name, and she was currently hanging from the arm of a rather handsome basketball player.

“I thought I’d try,” I answered shortly, aware that Changbin was probably listening, even as he remained engrossed in conversation with Chan.

Eda hesitated, glancing between me and Changbin. “I didn’t know you and Changbin were together.”

“Of course,” Changbin smoothly inserted, interrupting me before I could possibly deny the allegation. His fingers fanned out across my hip, hold unrelenting around my waist.

I clenched my jaw as I fixed him with a glare. Take a hint, I wanted to shout in his stupidly smug face. “Really?” Eda gasped, eyes wide with admiration. “Congratulations.”

Was I getting an athletic scholarship to Harvard?

“What about Lisa?” I heard another girl whisper from some distant proximity.

Changbin probably didn’t hear the girl as he was too busy bragging to his friends about the romantic encounter we had that led to our unexpected coupling. And I was too dumbstruck to do anything but stand there like a blushing fool, listening to the whispers while feeling the eyes of the other students watching me with close attention. But perhaps this is what Changbin intended, a way to get me to an unsanctioned school event just to humiliate me further.

“Let’s dance, Reynolds,” Changbin said, abruptly dragging me away from the gossip circle.

Was this it? I thought to myself as he brought me closer. My mouth was dry, completely devoid of any moisture when his pelvis brushed against my lower stomach. He still had a firm hold of my right hand while his other hand rested low on my wait.

Too low.

I glared at him in warning as I reached back to redirect his hand higher, receiving another adorable giggle for my efforts. He pulled me closer, leaving no space between our bodies as he led me across the floor. And I, being no expert on anything dance-related, could only follow his lead as I tried not to embarrass myself more than Changbin had already successfully done. “You act like you’ve never done this before, Reynolds,” Changbin teased and I hated how satisfied he looked with our current condition.

This was definitely an act.

“What are you doing?” I muttered darkly, glaring at as many people as I could manage because they insisted on studying us like zoo animals in captivity.

“Dancing, I think,” he chuckled, breath warm against my face which meant we were way too close together.

“Is this what you wanted?” I asked, feeling unexpectedly defeated as I realized that Changbin was winning yet again. He had tricked me into coming with him to this stupid dance to humiliate me in front of his stupid friends. I felt trapped, and it wasn’t just because of the insistent grip he managed around my waist.

“Kayda,” Changbin sighed, leaning in to brush his nose against my collarbone, “you’re so beautiful.”

I mustered as much strength as I could, jerking away from him with a force he had not anticipated. Changbin let me go with wide eyes, watching as I took several steps back. I could still feel everyone looking at us, waiting for something to happen, but I wouldn’t give them that satisfaction. I was done being the object of everyone’s amusement, especially when it involved Seo Changbin.

“You didn’t need to go this far!” I hissed at him, despising the tears that had started to free themselves from my swollen ducts.

“Reynolds?” Changbin questioned, reaching for me again, but I quickly knocked his hand away.

“Leave me alone,” I told him, already retreating in the direction of the locker room, knowing I could leave from the back exit before this night got any worse.

“Reynolds!”

“Don’t follow me,” I practically begged him, trying to hasten my steps but the heel of my shoe was caught at the bottom of my dress.

I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, reaching down to fix something that I could actually control. “Hey, Reynolds,” Changbin said, panting slightly as he touched my elbow. “What did I do?”

I spun around so quickly that he released me with a start, taking a few steps back. “You’re mocking me!” I screamed in his direction, wiping away the stupid tears that were steadily cascading freely from the corners of my eyes.

“Kayda,” Changbin said, clearly startled by my words, “I don’t understand what’s wrong?”

“You wouldn’t,” I sniffled, turning away from his troubling presence to try and get a grip over my emotions.

He wasn’t helping matters, coming up behind me to grab my waist. “Tell me,” he insisted, “I’ll listen.”

“It doesn’t matter,” I said, vision clouding. “Please just take me home.”

“It does matter,” Changbin insisted, forcing me to turn back around. “I want to know.”

“You’re never nice to me,” I said. “I don’t know why I thought you might have been reasonable tonight.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Are you that clueless?” I snapped, meeting his gaze with renewed vigor. “Ever since we first met, you’ve done nothing but humiliate me and I’m really tired of the way you treat me and everyone else.”

Changbin’s hands fell from my waist. “The way I treat you?”

“Yes,” I sighed with irritation. “You act like you’re better than me because your parents have money and a nice house. And because you act like that, you think you can just treat me like your personal doormat. Ever since I can remember, you’ve always said whatever you felt like, even if it was hurtful, and you do it to other people too, but I guess they can handle it better than me since I’m the primary recipient!”

I took in several deep breaths, eyes shut together tightly. When I opened them again, I was met with a sight that shocked me to my core. And I could never forget the way he looked at me this time because there was no reason for Seo Changbin to look so defeated.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said, voice trembling. I was stunned by the glistening wetness gathering in his eyes. “I really like you, Kayda,” he said. “I’ve always liked you.”

The revelation was almost as shocking as his tears. I tensed my hands into tight fists, digging my nails into my skin to feel another kind of pain, one that was more bearable than the ache I felt in my heart. It was almost torturous to endure, covering my eyes with my hands to try and stop more tears from falling. “No you don’t,” I insisted, unable to outmatch his strength as he forced my hands away from my face.

“I know I shouldn’t have done those things to you, but I didn’t know what I was supposed to do. I was a stupid and immature kid and I’m sorry for everything that I’ve done. Because I didn’t know it would hurt you like this.”

“Why would you think otherwise?”

“Because I thought it would make you better,” Changbin said. “I figured that you would only fight to prove me wrong.”

“That’s horrible,” I said, shaking my head so quickly that it almost resembled the effects of whiplash.

“Yeah,” Changbin nodded, a strange darkness masking his expression. “It probably was.”

I let out a deep breath, worried about the anxious pacing of my cardiac rhythm. “And what you said in there about us being together? You know that’s not true and it probably never will be.”

Changbin nodded slowly, accepting the truth for once in his life. “I don’t deserve you, Kayda,” he said, voice incredibly sad as he looked down at the ground. “I won’t bother you anymore.”

I pulled out my phone to call my parents. “I hope you mean it this time.”

March

The end of basketball season also brought about a renewed concentration for my academic endeavors. It also meant that I was seeing much less of Seo Changbin for which I was grateful. The pitiful looks he threw my way were starting to really affect me far more than I was willing to let on.

At least things had started to return to normal, as in, Changbin was still flocked by his countless admirers while I enjoyed the peace of being ignored. It was much better this way, especially since I was happier without the teasing and taunting from the man in question. It was proving to be a necessary change.

There was also a new student in my Biology class. And after taking in the handsome combination of his dark hair and eyes, I understood why everyone was interested in pursuing him. Of course, this mainly included the girls who had finally realized they could never have Seo Changbin, seeking a new target for their endless flirtations. But I also felt sorry for the newcomer because he already seemed different than the others. He was quiet, like me, and seemed to prefer the solitude of sitting alone at the back of our classroom. Until those stupid girls started flocking him like glorified vultures.

I watched him one day while we were working on an independent assignment, which mostly meant everyone enjoyed a generous conversation while our teacher tried to win a game of Solitaire. The new kid was obviously more interested in his assignment than everyone else, and I could tell he was uncomfortable with the attention. Normally, I stayed out of the way, knowing it always turned out better for me in the end. However, I couldn’t let him suffer, so I kindly waited for him at the end of class, touching his arm when he passed by. His eyes were wide when they met mine. “You know,” I said, leaning in close, “those girls really hate me. If you ever need some space to do your work, then you can always sit next to me.”

I offered him a kind smile before proceeding to my next class.

The next morning, I was only half-surprised to see him already seated at the spot next to me at my table. I dumped my books on top of the faded surface before taking my seat, pulling out the assignment sheet from my folder. I started working as the bell rang, vaguely paying mind to our teacher who walked in with a yawn, encouraging us to continue working while he slammed his head down on top of his desk. I rolled my eyes and opened my calculator, aware that the new kid was watching my every move. I could hear whispers from the table next to mine and only looked up to glare at those annoying girls before returning to my work.

“Thank you,” the boy finally murmured and I only let out a hum as I considered the multiple-choice questions in front of me.

And from that point on, I found myself with a new desk partner for my morning class who eventually introduced himself as Han Jisung. Subsequently, if our teacher ever assigned group work, I always agreed to pair up with Jisung while enjoying the looks of hostility thrown my way. In actuality, Jisung was incredibly smart and really fun to work with, making intelligent puns and jokes about the illustrations in our textbooks. I laughed every time, offering my own takes in return because I actually didn’t mind the way he snickered in response.

But I didn’t realize how closely the rest of the student population was observing our interactions until it was brought to my attention courtesy of my nosy teammates. One day at basketball practice, a younger player innocently inquired about Jisung. “You’re so lucky!” she swooned to which I offered a vague noise of agreement. “He’s so gorgeous,” the girl continued, gripping my arm with unnecessary strength.

“Are you dating Han Jisung, Kayda?” our team captain asked me and I blushed furiously at her question, denying the insinuation.

When I turned around to find my gym bag, I could see Seo Changbin watching the exchange with barely disguised anger.

April

Han Jisung was proving to be a very interesting character. Despite his beautiful visuals and obvious appeal, Jisung rarely paid any attention to the scores of girls who flocked around him for attention. In fact, he often wrinkled his nose in disgust before excusing himself. And he didn’t seem to like the popular guys who tried to befriend him, asking him to try out for different sports teams. In fact, the only popular guy Jisung seemed to like was Lee Felix and that’s simply because nobody could resist his charm.

But, more than anything else, Han Jisung actually liked me and he often escorted me to my classes, joining me at my lunch table of isolation during fourth period, or even lingering by my Honda after school to tell me some kind of cheesy joke he obviously waited all day to share. It was beyond strange, and I wasn’t sure how to deal with the disruption in my usual routine. But I also didn’t mind it at all and even found myself seeking out Jisung in the hallways or waiting with anticipation for him to walk into Biology every morning. Sometimes, he even brought me an extra coffee, talking in great detail about his precious espresso machine as if it were his most prized possession.

Subsequently, I didn’t even hesitate to agree to hang out with Jisung after school one afternoon. Especially when I found out that Jisung had recently gotten his intermediate license, which meant we could ride together without worrying about having an older supervisor in the car with us. Apparently, being a year older made Jisung even more appealing.

“I heard you’re good at basketball,” he joked. “Should we go to the park? Maybe you could teach me?”

I brightened at the suggestion. “Okay!”

Yet, nothing could have ruined my mood more than the sight of Seo Changbin and his basketball buddies already occupying one of the courts when Jisung pulled up in his red Toyota. “Great,” I muttered, trying to ignore the way Changbin’s biceps flexed enticingly.

“What’s wrong?” Jisung asked while turning off the ignition.

“We don’t really get along,” I told Jisung.

“You and Changbin?” Jisung frowned. “That kid hates me too. Don’t know what his problem is.”

“He’s a jerk,” I said, reaching for the door handle of Jisung’s car.

“Are you sure you want to stay?” Jisung asked. “We can always go do something else.”

“No,” I turned him down with emphasis. “We can be here too.”

Jisung shrugged and reached into the backseat for the basketball we had taken from my car. He followed me as I led the way with as much confidence as I could muster, ignoring the way Changbin’s eyes seemed to follow the two of us as we claimed the next court over. I tucked the basketball under my arm, turning to face Jisung with a grin. “What do you want to play?”

“Your choice, Kayda,” Jisung said, slipping his jacket from his shoulders. “I’m not the expert here.”

He was also very good at stroking my ego.

I blushed at the comment regardless, running my fingers across the grooves of the ball in my hand. Of course, my good mood was never meant to last for long, and my smile vanished when I realized that a stray basketball had rolled its way over to where Jisung and I were conversing.

“Sorry,” Changbin muttered when he came over to retrieve the ball, standing up straight to eye Jisung with narrowed eyes.

“Keep the ball on your side,” I told him, reaching out for Jisung’s hand with every intention of leading us further away.

Changbin’s jaw clenched, knuckles turning white from their grip on the basketball in his hands. “Why don’t the two of you join us?” Changbin asked.

“We’re fine,” I said in response, but Changbin was determined.

“Felix wanted to make a team,” he continued. “We could do a tournament?”

“Not interested,” I reiterated, but my words seemed to have no effect on Changbin’s resolve.

“Felix!” he shouted in the direction of his red-headed friend. The smaller boy joined us with a wide smile. “You need two players, right?”

Felix nodded, turning to us with an exaggerated pout. “Please?”

Jisung laughed, tossing an easy arm around Felix’s shoulders. “Of course! Kayda and I would be happy to join.”

“We would?” I muttered, reluctantly following the three boys as we made our way to the opposing court.

The first game involved Changbin’s team versus Chan’s, meaning I was currently sitting on the ground with Jisung while Felix introduced us to his other two players. “This is Minho and Hyunjin.”

“At least we have one good player,” Minho joked, winking in my direction. Was this the first time Minho had ever spoken to me?

“Changbin never picks us,” Hyunjin sighed dramatically as if his sole life’s problem was Changbin ignoring him in favor of better talent.

“But neither does Chan,” Felix spoke up and Minho laughed at the observation.

“Do you have any tips, Kayda?” Hyunjin asked, moving in closer as he scanned the court. “It looks like we’ll have to go against Changbin’s team.”

I twisted my head to the side, watching Changbin step back to shoot a wide-open three-pointer. “Guard the hell out of Seo and we should be fine.”

“The first team to 12 points wins!” Chan explained to us, coaxing Hyunjin and Changbin forward as the two shook hands for Jump Ball. I lingered back on defense, figuring that Changbin would somehow find a way to get the ball from Hyunjin despite the fact that my new teammate had a good four inches of height over him. “Ready?”

“Let’s go, team!” Felix shouted with faux enthusiasm, and I resisted the urge to sigh.

And as expected, Changbin managed to outsmart Hyujin, tipping the ball towards one of his players. I immediately prepared myself, anticipating a fast return to the goal I was invested in protecting. However, my opponent seemed to reconsider his advances, slowing the ball down to wait for the remainder of his teammates to find their positions.

I took a step closer to the player handling the ball, paying no mind to my confused teammates as they openly asked who they were supposed to be matched up with. I attempted to block an overhead pass from the player I was guarding, but it successfully found its way into Changbin’s hands who scored the easy jumper. I scowled as I marched over to my teammates, demanding to know who had been guarding Changbin. “I think it was me?” Mingo said, raising his hand cautiously while eyeing his friends.

“I could always do it?” Jisung suggested, and I instantly agreed because I definitely did not have the patience to guard Changbin.

I also hesitantly complied to handle the ball down the court, rolling my eyes when I realized Changbin had decided to guard me by not so subtly nudging one of his own players out of the way. I passed the ball to Hyunjin who attempted a dramatic three-pointer. Sadly, the ball never even made it to the basket, connecting with the barbed wire fence out of bounds. “Sorry!” Hyunjin apologized, but I was already backpedaling down the court.

Because it was going to be a long game.

“Five minutes left!” Chan shouted from the sidelines as if it mattered. We were losing horribly, the only points on the board coming from my efforts. And they had been considerable since Changbin insisted on face guarding me like I was Lebron James ready at any moment to dunk the basketball from the foul line.

“Shot!” Felix shouted, disrupting my wandering thoughts as I dove in for the rebound, watching the ball bank against the backboard.

I started up the court, deciding that setting up a play would never work since the rest of my team were truly terrible at following directions. “Kayda!” I heard Jisung summon my name and I realized he had somehow broken ahead of the others, wide open for my pass to the basket.

I threw the ball ahead to Jisung, watching with high expectations as he managed a decent angle for a shot attempt. And Jisung was prepared to make the layup, one foot already leaving the pavement, when Changbin suddenly intervened, deciding to confront Jisung and risk a potential foul. Of course, I never expected Changbin to act so aggressively, and I could only look on from afar as his hand came down to hit Jisung squarely in the nose. Almost immediately, Jisung fumbled the ball and Chan blew the whistle to signal the end of gameplay.

“Changbin!” Chan scolded the younger player, hip jutting out sharply as he fixed Changbin with a stern gaze.

Meanwhile, I joined Felix on either side of Jisung, wincing when I noticed that Jisung’s nose was bleeding, hands cupping his face to try and stop the scarlet red that was already painting his honey-colored skin. “Is it broken?” I asked Jisung who merely whined in return.

“It might be,” Felix said. “Did he drive here?”

I nodded quickly, watching as Felix helped Jisung back to his feet. “I can ride with him to the hospital.”

I kept a firm hand around Jisung’s shoulder as I made sure to give Changbin a glare of my own as we passed him. “That wasn’t necessary,” I hissed in his direction, but Changbin was instantly apologetic.

He ran out in front of Jisung, forcing us to a stop. “I’m sorry Jisung,” Changbin said. “I got carried away.”

Jisung only waved him off, and Felix chose to take complete control of the situation, directing Jisung towards the parking lot. Before I could try to join them, Changbin had grabbed my arm. “I really didn’t mean to.”

His gaze was sincere, but I was still suspicious because I had openly witnessed a similar kind of aggression which Changbin was notorious for on the court since middle school. “How do I know that?”

“Because I’m telling the truth,” he implored, taking a step back to allow me more breathing room.

“He’ll probably be fine,” Chan commented, slinging a careful arm around Changbin’s shoulders. “Binnie can be a little rough.”

I scoffed at the affectionate nickname. “It looked intentional.”

“And now we lost one of our players,” Minho cried from behind me.

“I guess the game is over,” Hyujin remarked, patting his friend on the back as if to offer sympathy. “Are you riding home with me?”

Minho nodded his compliance and I realized at that moment that Jisung had driven me here, which meant I had no ride. “I’ll have to call my parents,” I muttered.

“I can drive you home, Reynolds,” Changbin said, shuffling towards me. “Chan lives close to you.”

I took a moment to study Felix as he carefully led Jisung to his car, and I couldn’t help but think this had been some kind of elaborate set-up. “Fine.”

Changbin’s car stopped in front of my house after we dropped off Chan and I went to open the door before realizing that it was locked. “Do you intend to keep me prisoner?” I asked Changbin, only half-jokingly.

But Changbin was serious, fingers thumping against the steering wheel. “I’m sorry about the dance, Kayda.”

I glanced out the window. “It’s okay.”

“No, it isn’t,” Changbin shook his head. “I planned something different.”

“And what exactly were you expecting?”

Perhaps my question held more implications than I realized as Changbin’s hands fell from the wheel. “I wanted you to like me.”

“What do you mean...” I trailed off, freezing as I realized Changbin had leaned in closer to me over the center console.

“But I guess it didn’t work,” Changbin whispered. “I didn’t get what I wanted for once.”

“And what do you want?” I asked him, still as cautious as ever as I waited for my explanation.

“I really like you,” Changbin said, hand suddenly coming around to gracefully handle the back of my neck, fingers cool against my overheated skin. It provided a useful foundation to hold me in place, keeping me waiting as he continued to move in closer.

I blamed the complete shock of the moment for everything that happened thereafter.

Changbin’s lips were smooth and gentle, coaxing my mouth open as his tongue invaded the warm cavern of my mouth, daring to slip across the muscle hesitating to act in compliance with his advances. I had never kissed anyone before in my life, so the sensation was entirely new and, dare I acknowledge, rather wonderful. The way I could feel the ridges of his lips, chapped from the wind, working in a strange harmony in mine as if this intimate dance was predicated by fate itself.

But I was still the first to pull away, detecting resistance in Changbin’s hold, ignoring the way his lips seemed to chase mine. “Changbin,” I whispered, slightly wary of the dark look in his eyes.

“Just one kiss?” Changbin pouted and I strangely found it endearing even as I tried to remember why I didn’t like him.

“I’m really confused,” I told him honestly. “I don’t understand what you want from me.”

“Just you,” he said, offering me a kind smile. “I want to be with you.”

It was all too much and I shook my head in denial. “I don’t know what to say right now.”

“What if I give you time to think about it?”

I nodded as a response because I was desperate to be left alone, reaching for the door handle. “Will you push me for an answer?”

Changbin scoffed. “What if I let you come to me this time, Reynolds?”

“You might be waiting a while.”

“I can be patient.”

I seriously questioned that assertion, offering Changbin one more disbelieving glance before graciously accepting the faint breeze that greeted me outside.

May

Jisung made a full recovery, returning to school with the same lazy playfulness that seemed to define his character. “As long as it doesn’t affect my looks,” Jisung said, earning himself one of my trademarked eye rolls in return.

“I’m sorry he did that to you.”

“Why should you apologize?” Jisung shrugged. “You aren’t responsible for Changbin.”

No, I really wasn’t, but that didn’t mean his friends were ready to acknowledge Jisung’s truthful claim.

“Kayda Reynolds.”

I looked up in surprise when I recognized Felix’s voice. I had been eating lunch alone since Jisung had asked for permission to leave school early, feigning a sore throat when in reality he wanted to skip his next period’s test. “Felix?”

The younger boy tsked as he sat down across from me without a single request for permission. “You shouldn’t keep ignoring him.”

I rolled my eyes when I realized his intentions. “Are you his advocate now?”

“No, but I am his friend.”

I gave up on trying to eat the school’s special meatloaf. “Are you trying to make me feel guilty?”

“No,” Felix shook his head, “but I think you’re being unfair.”

“He told me to take my time.”

“Which is a lot to ask of Changbin,” Felix said, giving me a look like I was incapable of understanding simple English.

“Don’t you think this is a lot for me to handle?” I asked him. “I’m not exactly his biggest fan.”

“At least give him something,” Felix said, sighing as he handled the apple on his lunch tray with disdain.

“Will that make everyone happy?” I grumbled.

“You might even be surprised yourself,” Felix shot back, handling my sarcasm with ease. And that earned him enough respect to accommodate his request.

I found Changbin in the parking lot that afternoon. He was talking with Chan and another basketball player, appearing entirely at ease as he relaxed against the hood of his Corvette. It was difficult to intercede, knowing that I was reluctantly giving Changbin what he wanted.

Chan was the first to notice me, eyes growing wide as he nudged Changbin with a nod in my direction. Changbin turned around slowly, brightening immediately when he realized what his friend had been referencing. And he must have said something to dismiss Chan and his other friend because the two of them quickly retreated further into the maze of student cars. “I’m happy to see you,” Changbin said, voice betraying his obvious excitement. Which was still strange because Changbin had never spoken to me that way before.

“Felix was convincing,” I said in return, anxiously glancing around the parking lot. “He said I was being unfair.”

“Ah,” Changbin nodded, running a nervous hand through his dark hair. “I did tell you to take your time.”

“Well,” I shrugged, “I suppose we can talk.”

Changbin nodded enthusiastically. “Do you want to go somewhere else, Reynolds?”

“That would be nice,” I admitted because we were starting to attract a lot of unwanted attention.

Changbin seemed thrilled by my acceptance, opening his passenger door for me. “I know a place we can go.”

“An arcade?” I questioned, pausing when a little boy abruptly ran out in front of me, eyes focused on the brightly lit wall of machines.

“Maybe I’m not so good at this,” Changbin said, clearing his throat as he brought us to an empty table. “I thought it might be fun.”

But I thought we were just talking, I wanted to offer in return but there was something irresistible about the boyish charm Changbin seemed to exude surrounded by such childish innocence. “My dad took me to arcades a lot when I was younger,” I said, unzipping my jacket because it had started to grow warm in the surrounding room.

“Really?” Changbin asked, looking up in surprise. “Do you wanna play?”

“Maybe for a little while,” I said, not missing the way his lips pulled tighter at the corners, revealing an uncharacteristic open-mouthed smile.

“Wait here,” Changbin instructed, and I obeyed his wish as he started to shove a twenty into the token machine.

I watched him when he came back, counting out the coins in his hand, handing me a substantial stack. “What do you wanna play?”

“Do you like video games?”

“My favorite way to waste time.”

Changbin and I were as close to addicts as two people could get, maintaining a constant presence next to the wildly entertaining shooting game he apparently enjoyed. I had gotten pretty good at the game, although Changbin continued to beat me each time we started a new round. However, at least he managed to refrain from bragging about how good he was at the game, which was a victory in and of itself. Because then I would have had to swiftly remind him that not everybody had enough money to come here on a whim’s notice to play to their heart’s content.

“One more round, Reynolds?” Changbin asked, holding up his final two silver tokens.

“I have a good feeling this time,” I said, snatching my coin to quickly shove inside the machine.

Changbin joined my session, loading up the queue as I held tight to the controller in my hand. As soon as the countdown sequence flashed across the screen, I felt my shoulders tense while my fingers flexed against the buttons. This time I was determined, even if I hated the smug smile Changbin wore on his face as he watched me with amusement.

The game progressed with an early advantage in my favor. I must have caught one of Changbin’s CPU players off-guard, attacking the base with relative success. Meanwhile, the man in question was nowhere in sight, and I could only make out his name on the tiny map at the bottom corner of my screen. Why wasn’t he attacking? I wondered as I infiltrated the next base.

“Did you forget how to play?” I couldn’t help but tease him. Yet, when he didn’t offer a snarky retort in response, I finally realized what was going on, especially once the game concluded with my victory.

Changbin showed no signs of remorse. In fact, he seemed perfectly content with the results. It was now obvious that Changbin had clearly let me win, and I turned to him with a start. “Why did you give up?”

Changbin looked sheepish like he wasn’t expecting me to catch on to his plan. “That was all you, Reynolds.”

“Really?” I snickered. “You didn’t have to do that for me.”

“There’s a lot I’m willing to do for you,” Changbin said while minding his game controller.

The seriousness of his tone caught me off-guard.

“I guess it’s okay,” I said, somewhat hesitant. “This is kinda what friends would do, right?”

Changbin’s expression shifted, but only in the way his gaze dropped from mine. “Yeah, friends...”

Over the next few weeks, Changbin continued to invite me out, sometimes encouraging me to hang around the rest of his friends. It was actually kind of nice since most of Changbin’s friends were entirely different when it was just our classmates who weren’t around. In a way, it was like the arrogant facade was lifted, even if some of them, mainly Changbin himself, still couldn’t resist the occasional remark. But the best part was that Changbin never pushed me for an answer to that unspoken question hanging between us. And in the meantime, I could surprisingly enjoy the things he wanted to do, while he also accommodated my requests to spend time in the quiet solitude of the library. Although, I could tell Changbin was not as entertained as me, flipping through his textbook with a lax expression.

“He sounds both horrible and perfect,” Jisung said to me one day at lunch.

“Why did he bother me so much in middle school?”

Jisung shrugged. “Maybe it was his way of telling you something.”

“That he hated me?”

“Sounds like it was the complete opposite,” Jisung said. “I guess loverboy is really bad at expressing his feelings.”

“I can’t wait for the school year to end,” I lamented.

“A couple months away from Seo Changbin?” Jisung grinned. “But I’m not letting you brood by yourself all summer.”

“I like brooding,” I told him because it was definitely true. At least, at one point it was. Now, I wasn’t so sure anymore.

“So when are you gonna confront Changbin about your relationship problems?”

“We don’t have a relationship,” I grimaced. “And, for your information, I plan to keep putting it off because I have no idea what to say.”

“Better figure it out soon,” Jisung pointed out. “The end of the year always flies by.”

And curse him for being right.

June

The end of my Freshman year brought about a dramatic cliffhanger to the mess that now defined my life. Ironically, I had somehow evolved from the quiet girl who desired nothing more than to be left alone, to a frequent topic of debate amongst gossip circles at our school. Not to mention, I had somehow made a friend out of Han Jisung while inevitably being adopted into Changbin’s close circle of acquaintances despite my resistance.

And once the final bell rang for summer vacation, I joined the swarm of hyperactive students racing through the main entrance, flooding the student parking lot with excited chatter. In the meantime, Jisung was patiently waiting for me on the sidewalk, offering a charming smile once I fell into pace with him. “My dad’s forcing me to go to some sort of weird summer camp,” Jisung sighed despondently. “I guess that means we can’t crash the five-dollar movies on Tuesdays, Kayda.”

I was disappointed with Jisung’s revelation. “Maybe I should have found a camp this summer. Everyone else is leaving.”

“Including your admirer,” Jisung teased, nodding in Changbin’s direction.

I followed his gaze, realizing that it was finally time for me to give Changbin the answer he had been anticipating since April. “Give me a minute,” I said to Jisung, leaving him waiting by my car while I started in Changbin’s direction, amused by the way he tried to appear perfectly indifferent.

“Reynolds,” he acknowledged me, shoving his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket.

“I guess you made the summer league tournament,” I said, hesitantly searching for the right words.

“Yeah,” Changbin nodded. “There could be scouts watching.”

“I heard that too,” I agreed, wondering if it was too late to write some sort of elaborate note and leave it under his windshield wiper. “You’re probably waiting on my answer.”

Changbin straightened immediately, gaze imploring as he looked at me. “And?”

“I don’t think I’m ready for that,” I revealed, watching his expression fall. “It’s a lot for me to handle, but I do have a compromise.”

“Compromise?”

“When the school year starts again,” I said, “and you’re still interested, maybe we could be friends? I think that’s best for us.”

Changbin seemed to process my words slowly. “Just friends?”

I nodded. “I kinda liked these past few weeks. It was nice compared to middle school.”

Changbin flinched at my comment, letting out a shaky laugh. “Maybe we’re better off as friends, Reynolds,” Changbin agreed, holding out a hand which I tentatively shook.

“Friends,” I emphasized, although the determined look in Changbin’s gaze was hard to so easily dismiss.

#stray kids #stray kids fanfic #seo changbin #seo changbin fanfic #changbin fanfic

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kaialone · 5 years ago

Text

Spirit Tracks Translation Comparison: The Lokomo

This will be a comparison of the original Japanese version and the US English localized version.

Specifically, this will cover the cutscene in which Anjean tells Link and Zelda about the Lokomo people, and how they should proceed.

You can also watch this cutscene for yourself in English and Japanese. If you want, you can check out the EU English version, too.

For the comparison, the usual points apply:

Bolded is the original Japanese text, for the reference.

Bolded and italicized is my translation.

Italicized is the official NOA translation.

A (number) indicates that I have a specific comment to make on that part in the translation notes.

As you read this, please keep in mind that with translations like these, it’s important not to focus on the exact literal wordings, since there is no single “correct answer” when it comes to translations.

Rather than that, consider the actual information that is being conveyed, in which way, and why.

Characters in this part who had their names changed between versions:

Sharin = Anjean, Valve = Gage

Returning to Anjean:

Anjean:

おぉ見事石版をとってこられたようじゃの！

Oh, good job! Looks like you got the lithograph!

Ah, so you managed to obtain the rail map!

Anjean:

お主らなら本当に各地の神殿の結界をはりなおせるかもしれんの！

You two might really have what it takes to fix the barrier of all the temples! (1)

You two just might be able to restore the Spirit Tracks in every realm!

Zelda:

しかし石版には少ししか線路が描かれていませんでした

But, the lithograph seems to only have a few tracks etched into it.

But, Anjean, the rail map has only a small part of the Spirit Tracks on it.

Zelda:

神殿とはどこにあるのですか？

Where exactly are the temples?

Where are the temples you were talking about?

Anjean:

結界の役目を担う神殿は４つあるのじゃ！そしてここから一番近い神殿はここじゃが…[DS]

There are four temples in charge of the barrier! And the closest of them is right here, but... [DS]

In each of the four realms is a temple. Look, my dear. The closest one is here...[DS]

Anjean:

確かにこのままでは神殿にはたどりつけんな

You definitely can't reach that temple the way things are now.

But I don't think you can make it to the temple as things are right now.

Anjean:

この石版はフォースの力で線路を表しておるんじゃ

The lithograph shows the tracks with the power of Force. (2)

The rail map has imparted energy to a length of the Spirit Tracks here.

Anjean:

魔物の力によって石版に蓄えられたフォースまでなくなってしまったようじゃ

The power of the monsters seems to have stripped the lithograph of the Force stored inside it, too.

But because of the Demon King's power, much of the energy was lost.

Zelda:

そんな… 神殿に行くことはできないのですか？

Oh no... Does that mean we cannot go to the temples?

So...we can't go to the temples, Anjean?

Anjean:

方法はないわけではない… 石版にフォースの力を宿すには…

わしの一族のものに会いこの石版にフォースの力を増幅してもらうのじゃ

It's not like there's no way to do it... To fill up this lithograph with Force...

You have to meet with one of my people, and recharge the Force inside of it. (3)

Not yet. But there is a way to restore energy to the rail maps.

You can ask my people to help you.

Zelda:

シャリンさまの一族の方… そのような方がおられるのですか？

Someone of your people... You mean there are people like you, Lady Sharin?

Your people, Anjean?

Anjean:

うむわしらロコモ族は代々神のお作りになった結界と

神殿を守る命を授かった天界に近き一族なのじゃ

Indeed, we Lokomo are a people close to the heavens, given order to protect the barrier (4)

and the temples created by God, and have done so for generations.

Indeed. We are called the Lokomos. We are servants of the spirits.

They have entrusted us with protecting the temples and the Spirit Tracks.

Anjean:

わしらは聖なる楽器をあやつって石版にフォースの力を宿す力を持っておる

We have the power to fill the lithographs with Force, by playing sacred instruments.

By playing our sacred instruments...

We generate energy that powers the Spirit Tracks.

Zelda:

楽器…ですか？

Instruments...?

Sacred instruments?

Anjean:

そうお主の持っておる「大地の笛」もその１つじゃ

Yes, and the "Flute of the Land" that you possess is one of them, too.

Yes, and the Spirit Flute you hold is one of them.

Zelda:

わたしの笛が…！これはお母さまからいただいたものだったのですが..

My flute...! It was given to me by my mother, but...

This flute was a gift from my grandmother. I didn't know it had any powers.

Zelda:

ご先祖さまから伝わる大事な笛だと伺いました

I have been told that it was a special flute, handed down from my ancestor.

I'd only heard that it was something precious handed down from my ancestors.

Anjean:

わしがおぬしの先祖にあたる者に渡した物じゃ！

I’m the one who gave it to that ancestor of yours!

Yes! And it was I who gave it to your ancestors!

Anjean:

何度もくれとせがまれたのでこの国の平和を築くという条件であげたのじゃ

She kept bugging me about it, so I gave it to her, under the condition that she would keep this country peaceful.

But only under the condition that they protect the land for all time.

Anjean:

その時はこんな一大事になるとは思ってなかったが…

At the time I didn't think things would end up getting this bad, though...

Of course, back then, I didn't think things would take such a perilous turn.

Anjean:

まあ持ってたのがおぬしらでよかった…

Well, I'm glad you're the ones who have it...

I'm glad that after all these years it has found its way into your hands.

Zelda:

この笛そんな大事なものだったのですか..

I had no idea this flute was so important...

Zelda:

私が小さい時にお母さまがよく吹いてくださいました

When I was little, my mother would often play it for me.

My grandmother used to play it for me when I was a little girl.

Zelda:

この音色を聞くといやなことがあってもがんばれるような気がして…

When I listen to its sound, I feel like I can keep going, even when things are unpleasant...

If I was sad or upset, the sound of this flute would make me feel better.

Zelda:

でもお返しした方がよさそうですね

But I suppose it would be for the best if I returned it to you.

But even so, I suppose its rightful place is with you, Anjean.

Anjean:

いやそれはきっと必要になるおぬしらが持っていた方がよい！

No, you'll definitely need it, so it's better if you have it!

No, you two will have need of it. Please take it with you! For now...

Anjean:

それよりも今はわしの一族に会い石版に再びフォースの力が宿るようにするのじゃ

More importantly, right now you need to meet with my people and fill the lithographs with Force again.

You must go find the other Lokomos and restore the energy of the rail maps.

Anjean:

そうすれば線路が再び浮かび上がるはずじゃ

If you do that, the tracks should emerge once more.

Once you do, the Spirit Tracks will reappear.

Anjean:

まずは森に行き森のロコモ族バルブという男に会いなさい

First, I want you to go to the forest and meet with a man called Valve, the Lokomo of the Forest. (5)

Go to the forest first, where you must talk to the Lokomo Gage.

Anjean:

[DS] この塔より南西の方にバルブの住むホコラがある

[DS] The shrine where Valve lives lies southwest of this tower.

[DS] South of the Forest Temple is a sanctuary where you can find Gage.

Anjean:

きっとおぬしらの進むべき道を示してくれるはずじゃ

He should be able to show you where to go.

He will be able to tell you where to go next.

Zelda:

はいわかりました！

Alright, understood!

Got it!

Zelda:

リンクいきましょ��！

We should get going, Link!

Let's go, Link!

Zelda:

あ…でも今は機関車がありませんしどうやって森までいけば…

Oh, but... we do not have a train right now. How are we supposed to reach the forest...?

Oh...but we don't have a train. How are we going to get to the forest?

Anjean:

これに乗っておいき

Use this.

You may take this.

Anjean:

この汽車はいにしえの時代に神がお使いになった神の汽車じゃ…

おいそれと普通の人間が乗れるものじゃないんじゃが…

今はそんな事も言ってられんしそれにお主らなら神もお許しになるじゃろうて！

This train was used by God in the ancient times. The Train of God...

Ordinary humans aren't supposed to just ride it around like that, but...

We don't have much of a choice right now. And I'm sure God will make an exception in your case!

This train is a symbol of the spirits. People don't ordinarily ride around in it.

But these are no ordinary circumstances.

I'm sure the spirits wouldn't mind lending it to you.

Zelda:

ありがとうシャリンさま！！

Thank you, Lady Sharin!!

Thank you, Anjean!

Translation Notes:

I realize it’s worded a bit awkwardly when translated as literally as I did, but by ”the barrier of all the temples”, Anjean basically means “the barrier that’s being created by all the temples”.

“Force” is a concept that occasionally comes up in Zelda games. Not to be confused with the Triforce, “Force” is an energy that dwells within all living beings and the world. In the English localizations, it’s usually adapted as Force Gems when it’s shown in crystalized form, or even just energy or life force when it’s not physically shown.

What I translated as “people” here is 一族/ichizoku in Japanese, which could also be translated as “clan” or even “family”, but I think “my people” worked best in this context.

The Lokomo are literally called ロコモ族/Rokomo-zoku in Japanese, named after “locomotive”, so one could romanize them as “Locomo”, too.

What I translated as “the Lokomo of the Forest“ could also be translated as “a Lokomo of the forest”, but he does seem to be specifically assigned to the forest, so the former made sense to me.

Comparisons & Thoughts:

This is only a short scene, but it features some important exposition, and some particularly curious changes in the English version.

I will start with what I consider the biggest change in this scene.

In the Japanese version, Zelda states that her flute was given to her by her mother, while the English version has her state that it was her grandmother.

This seems like a strange and unnecessary change, but I have a theory about why they did it.

I think whoever decided on this change might have wanted to imply that Zelda’s grandmother was actually Tetra, and thus that Zelda knew Tetra personally, and got the flute from her.

This might also explain why the English version didn’t mention that Zelda is specifically the great-great-grandchild of Tetra in an earlier scene.

As for why they would do this, I’d assume it would be because Tetra is a popular character, and they thought it would be better to have a closer connection with her?

But even if we assume that wasn’t their intention at all, and they just changed it to her grandmother for a completely different reason, this change certainly made many English-speaking fans believe that Tetra was Zelda’s grandmother.

So it definitely caused a misconception in the fandom.

But regardless of that, in the Japanese version of the story, it’s made clear that Zelda did not know Tetra personally, which is why part of her relationship with Anjean involves Zelda indirectly learning things about Tetra through her.

Now, one may prefer the idea of Zelda having known Tetra personally, and that’s understandable. But it would still be a change from how it was in the original Japanese version.

Related to the above, as Anjean and Zelda actually talk about Tetra here, she is simply referred to as Zelda’s ancestor.

As I mentioned previously, this is pretty much always what Tetra is referred to as throughout the story, being a recurring plot point.

In earlier scenes where she was mentioned, the English version correctly adapted this as “ancestor”, but in this cutscene here they instead go for the more generalized “ancestors”, which muddles the fact that this was specifically meant to be Tetra.

If they really did intent to change it so Tetra was Zelda’s grandmother instead, they might have done this to support that rewrite. But this would also make it inconsistent with the prior scenes.

Whatever the case may be, the English version will continue to use “ancestors” in future scenes as well, thus removing the recurring references to Tetra that are a part of the story in the Japanese version.

Still on that same topic, an especially notable difference in Anjean’s dialogue here is this:

She kept bugging me about it, so I gave it to her, under the condition that she would keep this country peaceful.

But only under the condition that they protect the land for all time.

In the Japanese version, where Anjean is more explicitly talking about Tetra, she also goes into more detail about why and how she ended up giving her the flute.

This is another one of the kinds of details I miss, since it gave us another small look into these characters and their relationship.

Just like in her first appearance, Anjean is talking about Tetra in a way that could almost come across as dismissive, but we can also tell from her general mannerisms that she was actually friendly with her.

For me, it gives off this impression that Anjean and Tetra were probably the kind of friends that might tease each other, or even come across as harsh, but really are good friends at the end of the day.

Either way, in addition to making most references to Tetra more vague, the English version also lacks these small insights into her interactions with Anjean.

Going back to the beginning of the scene now, the Japanese version has Anjean specifically state: “There are four temples in charge of the barrier!”

The English version instead has her say: “In each of the four realms is a temple.”

This change was probably made since “the barrier” has been written out, but it technically creates a small error here.

If you consider the Sand Realm its own realm, there would be five realms, not four. And even if you don’t, that would mean there are two temples in the Ocean Realm.

The phrasing in the Japanese version in turn actually leaves the possibility open for there to be other temples that aren’t related to the barrier, which we later learn is the case.

In the Japanese version, the lithographs specifically need “Force” to work, while the English version just refers to it as “energy”.

I talked about Force a bit in the translation notes already, and like I mentioned there, it’s supposed to be an energy that dwells within all living beings, and so forth.

It’s a recurring element in Japanese Zelda games, but the English localizations don’t always adapt it the same way, making the concept more obscure.

For example, the items called “Force Gems” that appear later in Spirit Tracks are also simply called “Force” in Japanese, and the “life force” mentioned in Phantom Hourglass was also originally called “Force”.

Even the Sands of Hours from that game are supposed to be made out of Force.

I’m guessing the English version changed “Force” to “energy” here because the general concept of Force isn’t as prominent in English Zelda games, so it might just be confusing if it was mentioned here without context.

Adding to this, the English version also says that the energy was lost because of “the Demon King’s power”, rather than “the power of the monsters”, which is probably also to simplify the idea?

Anjean’s explanation of the Lokomo features some minor differences, aside from the already familiar changes like “God” to “spirits” and mentions of “the barrier” being replaced with “the Spirit Tracks”.

In the Japanese version, Anjean says that the Lokomo are “close to the heavens”, which the English version leaves out, possibly due to religious implications?

Strangely though, the English version does allow Anjean to mention “the heavens” later in the story.

Perhaps there was a limit to how many times they could mention these things? That’s my best guess, assuming it’s not just a result of different writers working on different parts.

Anjean also mentions that the Lokomo have been performing their divine task “for generations”, which isn’t mentioned in English.

This is crucial information if one wishes to figure out the general timing of this game’s story, as this means the initial defeat and sealing of the Demon King Malladus occurred multiple Lokomo generations ago.

Since Lokomo live a lot longer than humans, this must have been a timeframe of at least several centuries.

Also, as a bit of trivia, the English version of this game uses “Lokomos” as the plural for Lokomo, but the English version of The Legend of Zelda: Encyclopedia uses “Lokomo” as the plural instead.

I personally prefer the latter, which is why I go with that as well.

Seemingly minor difference, but look at this line from Zelda here:

When I listen to its sound, I feel like I can keep going, even when things are unpleasant…

If I was sad or upset, the sound of this flute would make me feel better.

The English version treats Zelda being cheered up by the flute’s sound like it’s something from her past, presumably when it was being played for her as a child.

But the phrasing in the Japanese version implies this is something that is still true today.

And if you think back, you may recall that in an earlier scene, we do see Zelda playing the flute by herself in her room, as she waits for Link to answer her request.

So the implication here might be that in the present day, Zelda still plays the flute on her own, in order to cheer herself up or calm herself down.

Anjean’s directions are slightly different between versions.

In Japanese she directs the children to “southwest of this tower“, and in English to “South of the Forest Temple“.

Both lead to the same place of course, but I think the English version changed it since just “south” might be easier to remember than “southwest”?

Story content aside, another factor to consider during localization is making sure the text is easy to understand for the player from a gameplay perspective.

All in all, the localization in this cutscene is another pretty faithful one.

Most of the changes are just the same general ones that appear constantly, like “the barrier” being written out.

You can tell Anjean is a bit more serious in English, like I mentioned before, but the content of what she actually says is generally the same, too.

The biggest difference is the way the references to Tetra are handled here, especially since the localization was a lot more accurate about it previously.

And again, I can’t say for sure if changing Zelda’s mother to her grandmother in English was also an intentional rewrite to make it seem like it was Tetra. But as I said, it did make many fans believe it really was Tetra.

And references to Tetra really do suffer quite a bit in this localization, I’m afraid to say. Both due to the reasons I have already gone over, and more that’s to come.

This scene is just another part of that larger issue, but I think it’s where it really starts.

But that’s the end of this part right here. Feel free to check out the next one!

< Previous Part | Start | Next Part >

#legend of zelda #the legend of zelda #tloz #spirit tracks #legend of zelda spirit tracks #legend of zelda translations #spirit tracks translations #my translations #spirit tracks comparisons

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sadienita · 6 years ago

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Butterflies - Part 4

Soonyoung x Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

You could be in the same room as Soonyoung, and even sit beside him. But something was still missing in that you couldn’t touch him at all and it was weighing on both of you.

Why did the end of the semester have to be so busy? Why? You texted Soonyoung nearly constantly. Any time you were free you sent him a flurry of messages and he often replied quickly, even when you knew he was supposed to be paying attention to his lectures. He did have some more practical classes where he couldn’t message you but any lecture he would be sending you funny pictures and ‘I miss yous’.

But you both had lots of assignments so you had barely seen each other in person. You tried a few times to study together at your favourite cafe, but neither of you could focus. Anytime you managed to read for a few minutes you would look up to see Soonyoung staring at you with a dreamy look on his face. And you had a difficult enough time getting any reading done at all, wanting nothing more than to turn your study date into a regular date.

So you both agreed that you couldn’t study together.

You did manage to go on a date a couple weeks after the game night at his place. It was just a cute little movie and dinner date but it was nice to do something together, especially as school got more stressful. You were sad to find that you still couldn’t touch him without a shock that stung a little. You wanted to at least hold his hand and you had exchanged sad looks with him when you had to quickly pull your hand away. Soonyoung was patient with you but you knew he was yearning to touch you and the feeling was more than mutual. You were both cuddly people and it was torture not being able to snuggle with each other.

But the last few weeks had been a lot. You were both swamped with school work and you really didn’t have a lot of time for each other. Since your date you hadn’t seen each other in person or even had the time to video chat so you were stuck with texting. Your heart ached and you missed him dearly. Texting was never the same.

But, and you felt bad admitting it, a part of you was relieved. You got so let down every time he tried to touch you and couldn’t. You were glad that you could be near him and talk to him and even though your body felt hot and shaky and you got a bit dizzy you were finding yourself more and more steady every time you were around him. It was good to be in his presence but it was breaking your heart slowly that you couldn’t touch him.

The buzz in your pocket caught your attention and pulled you from your thoughts as you made your way home from your last class. The one saving grace was that it was finally the last day of classes. You had the whole weekend and most of next week until exams started and you were excited. You would finally have free time and as you saw the text on your phone you giggled. Soonyoung seemed to have the same idea.

[Soooooooo]

[Movie night at my place?]

[Please say you’re free and can come]

You smiled to yourself and responded that you could for sure come over. He sent you a time and you tried to internalize it. You didn’t want to be late this time. You weren’t sure if any of the others would be there but you should at least aim for on time.

You toyed with the idea of changing when you got home, eventually deciding to throw on a softer sweater over your tshirt and leggings. You played around on your phone, waiting until it was acceptly late enough to leave. Eventually though you couldn't wait any longer and you decided that you could go and pick up snacks on your way to Soonyoung’s.

You made a quick stop at a corner store on your way, grabbing a few bags of chips before hesitating. Would he judge you for picking chips? You felt a little silly thinking that, but you couldn’t help it. You’d had friends who had commented that you should eat better. You weren't really sure why you were chubby. Even when you did change your eating it didn’t seem to affect your size as much as you hoped. You could always let someone else eat them.

You shoved the chips in the bag and made your way to the house. You noticed that you didn’t feel to bad as you approached the house. You only had a little bit of shakiness in your hands and your cheeks were warm, the butterflies in your stomach were much more subdued than they had been. All of that was a good sign and you really hoped that you were at the point where you could just relax and be with him without keeping space between you.

You rung the doorbell and giggled as you heard someone race from the living room. Soonyoung opened the door with a bright smile. He almost hugged you, but stopped himself, trying not to show how badly he wanted to pull you close to him. You smiled at him apologetically and followed him into the living room. Wonwoo was settled in a chair and he looked up and smiled at you while Byeol jumped up from his lap and raced over to hug you. She seemed to make friends easily enough and she had indeed been talking to you a lot in the last few weeks, so much so that you’d told her about not being able to touch Soonyoung. She told you she was sure it would work out soon, especially if it had slowly been getting better. You greeted her warmly and looked around the room. Soonyoung introduced you to the others who had gathered to watch the movie. Mingyu sat in a bean bag chair on the floor, he kept shifting and you suspected he was too tall to be truly comfortable on it. Minghao was at one end of the couch, his soulmate sat on a cushion on the floor, leaning her back against his legs. Hansol sat at the other end of the couch with his arm around a tall girl named Hannah. She was speaking quietly with him in English.

Soonyoung led you to the middle of the couch and you sat next to him, still too scared to actually touch him. They room seemed to be in a debate over which movie to watch, though at least it had been narrowed down to two. You opened up your bag and slowly pulled the chips out. Half the room jumped as Byeol and Soonyoung both screeched “Snacks!” at the same time.

Everyone chuckled as you passed the bags around and a movie was chosen, Hannah mumbling something about subtitles which Wonwoo was sure to turn on. You all settled in and started to watch. I was probably a good thing you had yet to see this movie or you would have spent much of the night chatting to Soonyoung. At least this way you could mostly focus.

Except that Soonyoung beside you seemed antsy. He was fidgeting and shifting in his seat and he kept glancing at you. You scooched a little closer to him but found yourself too afraid to reach out and touch him. He spent half the movie fussing until he made a decision. You froze as you noticed him stretching out his arm behind you. You squeezed your eyes shut, not sure if you wanted him to try it or not. If this didn’t go well you might end up falling off the couch. You took a deep breath and braced yourself.

Soonyoung let his arm hover around you for a second before gently resting just his hand on your arm. You felt sparks, like electricity, but it tingled. A smile tugged at your lips as you realized it didn’t hurt. You looked over at Soonyoung and he had a ridiculously happy smile on his face. He let the rest of his arm rest across your back and you both held in your giddy giggles as you could finally rest your head on his shoulder. He was warm and comfortable and your heart was so full of love and warmth as you snuggled close to him.

You spent the rest of the movie cuddling as close as you could to him Your heart was positively soaring. He let his arm slide down to rest around your waist and he rested his cheek on the top of your head. You tried to watch the rest of the movie but you were far too giddy. A part of you wanted to jump up and bounce around but the other part of you never wanted to move ever.

You glanced around the room as the movie drew to an end. Wonwoo threw you a small smile and you returned it shyly. You couldn’t bring yourself to let go of him so you stayed cuddled up to him as Mingyu got up and turned on the lights. A large smile spread across Byeol’s face as she squealed.

“You’re cuddling!”

You blushed and nodded shyly while Soonyoung hugged you tightly. “We can finally hug,” he hummed happily. Much of the room chuckled and smiled while Byeol rushed over to hug you, Hansol seemed to explain what was happening to Hannah and she gave you a small smile. People started to trickle out of the room. Mingyu took off first. You knew he was a good sport but probably feeling a little lonely when so many of his housemates had met their soulmates.

Minghao and Yunhee took off next, saying quietly that they had to study. Hannah stayed to talk with you and Byeol for a while. Her Korean wasn’t perfect but if you spoke slowly to her she understood and warmed up to the two of you.

Though you didn’t think there was a person alive who wouldn’t warm up to Byeol.

She and Wonwoo stayed to chat for a little bit, but he eventually pulled her away, quietly grumbling that he wanted to get a chance to spend some time with his girlfriend. She gave him a sheepish grin and followed, leaving Soonyoung and you alone.

He smiled at you as you shifted towards him more. He brought his hand to cup your cheek, caressing it with his thumb. You smiled, leaning into his touch.

“It’s not shocking anymore?” he asked.

“It just tingles,” you hummed.

“Well in that case,” he took a deep breath looking a little nervous as he leaned closer. “There’s something I really want to try.”

You didn’t have to ask what he was thinking as he closed the distance between you, pressing his lips to yours. You let your eyes flutter closed as fireworks went off in your heart. You held onto the front of Soonyoung’s shirt, feeling yourself swooning and knowing if you let go you might fall off the couch.

He pulled away sooner than you wanted and you let your eyes flutter open to look at him, catching your breath.

He took in your dazed expression. “A-Are you okay?”

A dreamy smile tugged at your lips. “That was… breathtaking.”

He grinned. “Well in that case…”

Soonyoung leaned back in and kissed you again, this time with less resistance. You held on you him tightly as he pulled you as close as he could. You let him deepen the kiss as you tangled a hand into his hair and moved a little closer so you were nearly on his lap. You got lost in the feeling of his lips and tongue and hoping the feeling of fireworks never ever went away.

Well until you heard an awkward cough in the doorway.

You broke away from Soonyoung’s lips to see a short boy in the doorway. You felt the blush rise in your cheeks as you hid your face in Soonyoung’s chest.

“Oh, hey Jihoon,” Soonyoung said brightly. “We were just-”

“Get a room next time, Soonyoung,” he said flatly.

“Are they already making out on the couch?!” you heard Chan laugh from the kitchen.

“God they’re going to be worse than Seungkwan and Jada aren’t they?” whined Mingyu, also in the kitchen.

Soonyoung chuckled and kissed your forehead. “Do you want to move to my room?”

“It sounds like that’s the general consensus,” you giggled.

“Please do,” Jihoon added before leaving the room.

You giggled again as Soonyoung helped you up and held you close to him. He started leading you to his room.

“You know we’ll never be that bad right? Making out on the couch every day and annoying everyone?”

“You know, I don’t think I’d mind that too much.”

He snickered and kissed your cheek. “You really are too perfect.”

#Seventeen #seventeen imagines #Svt #svt imagines #hoshi #hoshi imagines #soonyoung #soonyoung imagines #kwon soonyoung #soulmate au #seventeen soulmate au #soulmate!seventeen #soulmate!svt #soulmate!soonyoung #is it fate #butterflies

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sablelab · 6 years ago

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Covert Operations - Chapter 61

DISCLAIMER: This is a modern AU crossover story with Outlander and La Femme Nikita. LFN and its characters do not belong to me nor do those from Outlander.

SYNOPSIS: Claire reports back to Section One with important Intel about her suspicions and with extra Intel about the triads with the names of potential suspects for Fergus to run a check on. Jamie returns to Section One just in time to hear the briefing.

MY THANKS to all those who are reading, liking or reblogging my story. THANK YOU. Previous chapters can be found at … https://sablelab.tumblr.com/covertoperations

CHAPTER 61

When Claire returned to her apartment that night, she dropped her keys on the bureau, kicked off her shoes and padded into her living room.

It had been a very eventual day and she had important intel that Fergus needed to know. Her meeting with Inspector Ng and the briefing had raised many concerns for her that may eventually lead to the one who was passing on information to the Rising Dragons. Hopefully this intel would bring their End Game closer and her mission at the OCTB to a quick conclusion. Having spent a month or more on the Madame Cheung mission profile with Jamie, she hoped that this one would be brief. It would mean that they were making rapid inroads to a final conclusion and would be a win-win for Section One. All being well then, hopefully Operations and Madeline would grant her and Jamie some much needed downtime when the mission was completed. She would really love to lay on a breach somewhere far away from Hong Kong and chill out for a while.

With these encouraging thoughts in mind Claire flopped down on the couch and immediately got in touch with Section One.

“Fergus are you there?”

“I'm here Beauchamp. Have you got something?”

He listened as Claire relayed some of the new Intel that had been discussed at the briefing and some of her other concerns that she had noted. However just before severing the communiqué with him she stated, “There is one other thing ...”

“Yeah?” He replied listening intently as she elaborated on the extra information and what she had observed since being at the OCTB.

“... Did you get all that Fergus?”

“Geeze Claire ... I'll have to clear that with Operations,” he stated gobsmacked at what she had told him.

“Then, do it.” ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Fergus took off his comm. unit and stared at his computer screen for several minutes just absorbing the information that Claire had communicated. Her words kept revibrating in his head. Could it be possible? Had Inspector Jiang Ng been the one to suppress the Intel concerning anyone associated with the Rising Dragons? Was he working directly for Sun Yee Lok or somebody else? Was the head of the Organised Crime and Triad Bureau really the plant? Claire had said it was entirely possible that he was the mole. Was there a triad war looming? Operations and Madeline wouldn’t like that. Were they closer to finding Jonathon Randall? If all this proved to be accurate then this was epic news that his superiors needed to hear.

So much information filled his brain with possibilities that needed to be checked, but he would relish the challenge of finding the connections Section One needed to ascertain the best way to profile the next stage of the mission. Fergus was shocked by the Intel Claire had passed on and he couldn’t wait to inform Operations in person. Leaving his communications station, he hurried along the corridors of Section towards the Perch. Her info had blown his mind. It seemed that she may have found out the very evidence that Section needed to make a move and sooner than they would have expected. If this data proved to be true then Section One would be expecting a visit from Inspector Jiang Ng in the not too distant future.

While walking briskly along the corridors towards the Perch, Fergus hurriedly rounded a corner and nearly ran smack dab into Operations. A little out of breath he stopped short just before bumping into Section One’s leader.

“Sir, I was just on my way to come see you,” he stated breathlessly.

“What is it Mr Claudel?”

“I’ve just received a message from Claire. Intel that she’s found out could be promising in capturing not only the mole at the OCTB but also Jonathon Randall.” Operations was pleased. “Excellent ... Anyone we already know?” “No.” “Who then?” He asked a little impatiently. Dougal Mackenzie always expected his techie to have the answer before he asked the question rather than have nothing concrete to report. Why waste his time? If he was not on the ball already and had found out something relevant then this was a wasted conversation. However, Fergus couldn’t contain his enthusiasm and blurted out the most damaging update. “Claire suspects that it may be the chief of the Organised Crime and Triad Bureau himself ... Inspector Jiang Ng.” “Do we have Intel on him?” “I’m working on it now.” Operations quickly changed his tune realising that his techie was indeed following through on Claire’s Intel. “Good to hear Fergus. I’m glad that you have made some inroads this will be beneficial when we debrief.” “Claire has confirmed our suspicions that Jonathon Randall may be involved with the Rising Dragons also.” “Good.” “She’s made plans for surveillance of The Triangle nightclub tomorrow night to check out the possibility that Inspector Jiang Ng is involved with Jonathon Randall and has connections to the Rising Dragons.” The news was getting better. “Excellent.” “There was one other thing too sir.” “What?” “The OCTB is checking out rival triads ... it seems that there is suspicion amongst them over Tony Wong and Madame Cheung.” “Get on it ASAP Fergus. We need to keep ahead of their investigations. There’s always the possibility that someone may recognise Claire and then her cover will be compromised and all our good work will be for naught.” “I’m on it.” “You have 24 hours. Can you handle it?” “Yes sir ... I can work within that time frame.” “Good. Then proceed.” ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Fergus Claudel returned to Systems with orders to cover all bases. Because they had invested so much time, energy and resources on the Rising Dragons’ missions, Section had been stretched a little thin. It had been their main priority despite all the other missions of late, but they had come too far to go back now. If Claire’s cover was compromised Fergus knew he would be in deep trouble, after all it was, he who devised the mission profile for her in the first place. However, he had anticipated any glitches that could occur and had a contingency back-up plan as a failsafe. Jamie’s return was imminent for the mission in Senegal had taken less time than anticipated, and that would be a good thing too if he was needed on this mission as support for Claire.

Immediately sitting down at his console, Fergus set to work. He hoped he would have all that he needed by the morning when Jamie was due to return then he would be able to debrief his leaders. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The next morning, Madeline entered the Perch to find Operations in an animated discussion on the phone. He acknowledged her presence with a glance and nod then returned to his conversation.

“Colum ... We haven’t heard from you in a while.” “So how are things in Section One Dougal?” “Good ... Thank you.” “Any development on Sun Yee Lok?” “As a matter of fact ... there is. We’re getting closer.” Operations replied giving his superior no more information that the bare minimum. There was no way in hell that he or Madeline wanted any interference from their governing body at Oversight with this mission. Column, as its leader, had always been a thorn in their side and they tolerated him at best. “Excellent. I see One is maintaining its success rate. The previous missions have severely handicapped the Rising Dragons interests.” “Thank you brother. I appreciate you saying that. We’re doing what we can.” “Oversight would expect nothing less. Am I right?” “But of course.” “Keep me informed. You have fifteen days. Goodbye Dougal.” “Colum.” Dougal’s reply was succinct as usual whenever he spoke with his brother and replacing the receiver in its cradle, he turned to look at Madeline who asked, “He was pleased?” “Oh, yes. He wants a complete report in fifteen days. I want him to think he’s getting one ... understood?” “Perfectly.” “Fergus says that Claire has provided early Intel that has given us an exceptional projection and he has been working on it. We should know something soon.” “So, we’re making excellent progress then.” “Yes, I’ve seen the numbers.” ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

While they were discussing Colum Mackenzie’s call, suddenly there was a beep and an operative’s voice echoed in the Perch. “Sir, James Fraser has returned.” “Send him in.” Glancing towards Madeline with a look that spoke volumes Operations stated, “Fergus or Murtagh must have sent word to him. He’s obviously escalated the Mission to have returned so quickly.” “Yes ... but nothing should surprise us where Jamie is concerned,” she replied. “You’re right as usual Madeline.” The two leaders of Section One turned when their Level 5 Operative entered the Perch and stood at ease. Jamie was an excellent operative … their best really … and if he could contain a situation quicker than expected then he would do so. However, they suspected that the expediency of this mission was accelerated because he would want to know how Claire was faring on her new assignment. Jamie would never admit that this was the case but they knew there was a close bond between the two operatives that could not be shaken no matter how hard they had tried. As of yet, they could not ascertain if it was a romantic bond or just one of mentor and material despite Madeline suspecting that it was more than platonic. They both stated as James Fraser stood waiting for Operations to speak. “Welcome back James.” “Thank you.” “The mission was successful.” “Verra.” “Excellent. Your team managed 100% containment quicker than we thought.” “Yes.” His superior then cut to the chase and told Jamie of the status of the triad mission. “You’ll be pleased to know that Fergus has new Intel on the Rising Dragons. So unfortunately, you won’t be having any downtime.” “You will be on Close Quarters Standby as there will be a new mission pending to Hong Kong tomorrow,” Madeline added watching Jamie intently to see his reaction to this information. However, there was not even the blinking of an eye as he stood there listening to what his leaders had to say. “Fine.” Operations continued. “There’s a briefing later this afternoon. Your Senegal debrief can wait.” “It’s finished.” Jamie stated matter-of-factually with his usual succinct statement. “Very well then .... have it on my desk ASAP.” “Yes sir.” “That will be all. You can go, Fraser.” Both leaders stood as one and watched the retreating back of their Level 5 operative ... then glanced at one another without needing to say a word. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Thankfully, he had written his debrief on the Senegal mission on the Section plane on his return, and having given his report to Operations as requested, Jamie made his way to the Ready Room to grab some much needed shut eye before being summoned to the briefing table later that afternoon. Although his body ached from the bruising he had incurred on this past mission, he hadn’t sustained any major injuries. It was nothing that some much-needed rest wouldn’t fix and it was all he required to replenish and revitalise his spirit. His team members were not so lucky though, and were in Medical being checked out.

Knowing that his Claire was safe and all was well was the best news he could have received, but he needed to hear her voice to know for sure. His first priority, therefore, before his weariness took its toll was to contact his love as to his return to Section One.

“Sass-en-ach…”

Her name rolled off his tongue in a loving caress.

Jamie had not had any communication with Claire at all since his meeting with Superintendent Zheng and her beginning her undercover operation at the OCTB. He knew that she would be wondering why he had not had any contact with her and no doubt by now Claire was getting a little testy due to the lack of interaction. However, the Senegal mission had taken him away from Section One as well as taking all his efforts to contain the matter so that he could return as soon as possible. The mission had also been fraught with danger and he needed to have his full concentration on what was at stake and knew that Claire would worry if she knew that the situation was hostile.

No doubt his Sassenach had her ear to the ground in the early stages of her transfer and was keeping a watchful eye on the comings and goings at the Bureau. Jamie knew that she was more than capable and was an exceptional operative who could take care of herself, but that didn’t mean that he never worried about her, because he did. His Claire was always on his mind and her voice haunted his thoughts at night when he closed his eyes. They were partners who were also lovers and her welfare would always be of the utmost priority to him. He patiently waited for a reply from the other end and closed his eyes in relief when he heard Claire reply. The sound of her dulcet tone in his ear was like a soothing balm to his weary body.

“Ja-mie …”

He could hear the relief and longing in Claire’s voice as she uttered his name so achingly while her voice caressed each syllable of Jamie as if she was placing kisses to his lips. God how he had missed her. He’d missed her terribly, missed the sound of her voice, missed seeing her by his side and he’d missed the kisses they shared. He was trembling with it, with the need to see her, touch her, have her tight against him. Nothing else mattered. There’d be words, there needed to be words, but those could wait. Everything could wait. The thought of having her seem near is what he had wanted most of all. Just the sound of her voice was enough to feel her presence and Jamie hung on to the sound of his name on her lips.

It had been a couple of weeks and he longed to see her and all he really wanted to do was hold his Sassenach in his arms. However, knowing that he might see her soon made the separation a little more bearable. Madeline had said that another mission to Hong Kong was being planned and no doubt he would be on a surveillance team and that was why he was on Close Quarters Standby. The mission could be set in motion at any moment and he needed to be prepared but hopefully he could catch some shuteye before leaving.

The intel that Fergus had been correlating meant that the new mission would be in play shortly after the briefing this afternoon and that another triad member would soon be a guest at Section One. It could very well be the lead they were after to finally get closer to finding Sun Yee Lok. These peripheral members of the Rising Dragons had all given Section vital information but as yet the Dragon Head had remained elusive. Perhaps this time he would slip up and be more visible.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Fraser! ... Briefing in 10 minutes!”

The sound of Operations’ directive woke him from his sleep. How long he’d slept for he didn’t know? It mustn’t have been that long but it was enough to give him the energy he needed. Jamie got up and made his way to the Briefing Room. Operations was standing in front of the briefing table while Fergus, Murtagh, Abernathy, Wakefield and Madeline were seated quietly waiting. Jamie was the last to arrive. He took his seat without so much as a look at those gathered, and sitting stony faced with his blank patented stare, he waited for Operations to begin the debrief.

As if to stress the importance of this mission, Dougal Mackenzie leaned his hands on the briefing table, glanced briefly at all those who were gathered then he began to speak without any preamble.

“Claire has provided us with the names of people she suspects are the mole and members of the Rising Dragons triad. Detective Raymond Koo ... Undercover Agent Eric Yong ... and Inspector Jiang Ng.” Madeline leaned back in her chair and stated, “We have to assume that the mole could be any one of these three OCTB operatives and he is working for the Rising Dragons.”

Looking directly at Jamie she added, “We need to find out which one.” “Did Claire elaborate on why she suspected these men?” Jamie asked trying to decipher in his own mind who may be the most logical one to be the mole at the OCTB.

“Raymond Koo asked questions as to Madame Cheung’s disappearance. Was he trying to ask if they knew who was involved in her mysterious disappearance or merely asking an innocent question? Claire wasn’t sure but the Inspector was of the view that another triad group was responsible,” Fergus declared before summarizing further. “Eric Yong was taken off a surveillance case on Jonathon Randall. Perhaps he too was getting too close to exposing him as a triad member and the Chief Inspector clipped his wings.”

Jamie said nothing just nodded his assent leaving him with the most obvious choice which ultimately would have been Claire’s as well. These two men were not the spy. Glancing around at those gathered Fergus Claudel added more clarification. “I cross-correlated data found on each of these men and discovered that each one has had contact with Jonathon Randall who is linked to the Rising Dragons.” “So, guilty by association?” “Yes Jamie, but we feel that the others are mere passing associations of no consequence and more than likely just doing their job.” Madeline interjected. “However, our main focus is on Inspector Ng and Jonathon Randall himself.”

Continuing Operations then relayed his synopsis. “Claire’s Intel would suggest our mole had help from the highest level or is privy to classified information. Therefore, Inspector Jiang Ng ... the head of the Organised Crime and Triad Bureau is our main target.”

Pulling up a Blue Screen of a Chinese man who it was difficult to gauge his correct age but probably was round about 35 to 40 years old, he indicated to his Techie to relay what he had discovered. “Fergus?”

“Inspector Jiang Ng is a hard nosed elusive leader who projects an image of ruthlessness. He has risen within the ranks quickly and has been well decorated for services in fighting crime in Hong Kong. He’s suave, brash and confident ... has plenty of money to throw around and enjoys nightclubbing and gambolling.”

“On his salary this would suggest he is getting a kickback from someone.” Madeline stated before Operations spoke again.

“Our Intel also suggests that he always seems to be one step ahead of the other police departments which impresses his superiors but his methods in apprehending suspects borders on viciousness.” Once more Fergus elucidated the intel he had managed to find out. “The other reason is his clever manoeuvring of department personnel and his tactics in predicting triad behaviour with the help of his highly placed police informers. He is excellent in playing one police department against the other which interfered with each others’ investigations to the point that they blocked each other out, bringing investigations to a standstill ... except for those he had instigated.” “This is highly suspicious.” Madeline concluded which left those at the briefing agreeing with her. “Exactly.” “For that he was not well liked, but this doesn’t seem to bother him. Inspector Jiang Ng it would seem is far too smooth, too in the know, too enlightened and for that reason, Claire has him earmarked as someone to watch closely.” Operations briefly straightened as he studied everyone's perception of Fergus's Intel before continuing. “The second important man is Jonathon Randall. He’s of British and Chinese ancestry and an entrepreneurial multi millionaire who is the owner of The Triangle nightclub.”

Jamie listened intently as his leader continued but what he heard next gave him cause to be a little concerned.

“Claire has told us that she will be in attendance at the nightclub Saturday night, and will debrief in the morning,” Operations stated dropping the Blue Screen’s remote back onto the table as he concluded the briefing. “This means that she will be in the key position to survey the premises and to make contact with this Jonathon Randall.” He then had the final word, “We're converging on the mole. But we have a couple of options. ... I'd like your input Jamie.”

Nodding he replied, “Of course. I’ll work up a profile.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ to be continued

#jamie and claire fanfic #Jamie Fraser #claire beauchamp #jamie and claire au #outlander fanfiction #covert operations

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schrijverr · 6 years ago

Text

A killing hit of pink

John smoked everyone at paintball, because he is a badass.

On AO3.

ships: none

warnings: none

~~~~~~~~~~~

Most people forgot John was a soldier. It was easy to forget, of course, he was soft smiles and big sweaters.

Lets go back a week, shall we. It was after a case and John and Sherlock were giving a statement when Lestrade came up to them. He asked: “Hey, we’re going paintballing next week. Do you want to come?”

John nodded and Sherlock grunted noncommittally. Lestrade gave them the address and said: “We are going at ten. If you’re not there at 09:55 we’ll assume you’re busy. See ya.”

Then he disappeared.

And that’s how John and Sherlock ended up at a paintball range that Sunday. The whole team was there Lestrade, Anderson, Donovan and more that they never really took the time to talk to. In total there were ten. When they entered the room it fell still with some mouths opened wide. Lestrade found his wits first: “You came! Sorry, of course, we invited you, but I didn’t think you’d both show.”

“Oh, sorry, we can go if you like.” John was quick to say.

“No need to apologize, John. What Lestrade here means is that he is surprised I came. I have of course been invited to these before, but never showed, seeing that it’s a waste of time.” Sherlock said.

“Why did you show this time then?” Anderson asked.

Sherlock shot him a look and then smirked. He answered: “Well, before I didn’t have an opportunity to see you all go down easily. This time, now, this time will be a treat.”

“You think you can take us all?” Donovan challenged.

“Oh, no, not me.” Sherlock didn’t clarify and went on, “and if I’m honest, if I could watch from outside I would, but you have to participate to see. So, sadly I’m here. Now come one, we don’t have all day.”

The Yarders shot looks to each other to see if the others understood what he meant, but came up empty. No one spared a glance to the doctor in the corner, who did understand. John smiled to himself, some here hadn’t been to kind to Sherlock, he was hoping for a bit of payback and John was happy to oblige.

They all got a minute to spread out through the designated area. The rules were simple: everyone had a colour and in the end it was the amount of times you hit minus the amount of times you got hit. Highest score won. If you manages to hit everyone you got five extra points. An alarm signaled the beginning, the game had begun.

It was all great fun and everyone was laughing, yes, even Sherlock, albeit for another reason, but smiling none the less. If you got hit you looked around and shot back to the person, but there was one colour no one could get a shot back at. Hell, most of the time the person who got hit didn’t even see where it had come from. You just suddenly felt a hit and you would look only to find a pink mark. Everyone wondered who the fuck this person was and tried to think of everyone who participated to figure out who they hadn’t seen yet, but everyone overlook the doctor. Always invisible at Sherlocks side, always just there, no one seeing the years of training and fighting hidden under the lairs of sweaters, no one seeing the smart brain full of medical knowledge that was out-shined by the brightness of Sherlocks brain. No one saw, except Sherlock himself.

The buzzer sounded and all stopped shooting. They gathered at the assigned spot and a person from the paintball rank came out to count the score. They also took the opportunity to laugh at each other and all the marks they bore. In the past insulted people (everyone) took great joy in Sherlock who was hit an average amount of times. He also supported two pink spots, he was hit, but not as much as the rest. In this process they also noticed John. The man had silently stood at the sidelines watching everyone with a fond smile when Anderson said: “Hey, check it out. John has only been hit thrice.”

Everyone looked at John now. He to see that he indeed bore only three marks, none of them pink. There were two blue ones, those were Sherlock and a yellow one from Lestrade. He looked kind of embarrassed at the attention as he rubbed the back of his head. Luckily he was saved from answering questions by worker with the scores. She said: “I here have the scores and I will read you the top three and then give one of you the list so you can see everyones score, OK?”

There were some nods and she continued: ”In third place there is: Greg Lestrade, with 20 points, congratulations!”

Some cheered and applauded and Lestrade had a pleased smile on his face. The worker went on: “In second is: Will Treaty, with 22 point, you too congratulations!”

Again people cheered and someone yelled: “Close call.”

Everyone knew that the first place was for the person who had shot with pink, but they were all eager to know who it was. Sherlock scoffed, it was obvious, if you just observed. The worker was talking again: “And in first place is, John Watson, with a grand total of 41 points, a new record! So extra big congratulations to you! Here is the list and please hand in the equipment at the desk.”

Then she left leaving everyone to gather their wits and regain their voices. “How the fuck did you do that? You’re a doctor!’”Donovan exclaimed, finding her voice first.

Others around her agreed as they scrutinized John. He rubbed the back of his head awkwardly and said: “Not just a doctor, an army doctor.”

“But army doctors, just sit in tents, right? Behind the line of fire, not as other soldiers. How did you learn to shoot like that.” Anderson blurted out.

A fierce look overtook the doctor. He didn’t mind being in Sherlocks shadow, in fact he was quite comfortable there, it was easy when no one looked at you first, but he wouldn’t let people walk over his work in the army, because they were dumb fucks. He shot back: “Watch who you’re talking to. I am Captain John Watson in the fifth Northumberland Fusiliers. I didn’t stay behind the line of fire. I operated on gunpoint, out in the field, so that my man could go back and shoot more enemies before they succumbed to their injuries or made it back in the retreat. You got to shoot someone if you don’t want them to stop you from saving a mans life. So, don’t you think you know about how it’s like out there when you’ve never seen with your own eyes.”

He had used, what Sherlock called, his captain-voice and after his little speech he curtly walked away to change back into his normal clothes. Behind him one of the others hit Anderson and someone else said: “Idiot, don’t be disrespectful.”

Meanwhile Lestrade connected two dots. He turned to Sherlock and said: “You knew. You told us we’d all go down easily. We thought you were being a narcissistic prick.”

“Ah, finally you start to use your brain. Maybe you can solve another mystery if you go on like this.” Sherlock said as he followed John.

Lestrade was looking confused and he raised an eyebrow at the others, who all shrugged. They also made their way to the changing room. It wasn’t until later when they were drinking that Lestrade suddenly solved it. The comment had been eating at him and he had been filing through all the cases he had worked with John and Sherlock, when it hit him, the cabbie. He always wondered who’d done it and now it seemed so simple. It had been John. He wanted to tell someone he had solved it, but decided it was best not to mention that John had murdered someone to anyone, seeing that it is illegal. Meanwhile everyone else had unanimously decided to leave John alone and not provoke the man and honestly when John noticed later, he couldn’t help, but be pleased. Bedsides how could you not be when it also extended a bit to Sherlock. all nice guy. So, when they invited him and Sherlock for their annual paintball fight they weren’t expecting to get smoked by him.

#RR writing #john watson #BAMF JOHN WATSON #Sherlock Holmes #Sherlock #sherlock fanfiction #greg lestrade #lestrade #Anderson #Donovan #paintball

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lgcyonghwa · 6 years ago

Text

The first thing the camera saw was the wall - pristine white, well lit by ceiling lights. A soft voice started the song, yet its source was not to be seen until a few seconds later. Yonghwa walked towards the center of the room where the camera aimed at a leisure pace - as if he was taking a stroll through the streets without a destination in mind.

His shirt, blue in color to imitate morpho butterflies, was stolen straight from his older brother’s closet. No, he did not get permission for this and was likely going to get in trouble. Did he care? Hahaha, not really! Hopefully, Ryung won’t realize his shirt’s disappearance until he actually saw it on television. By then, perhaps he would be so proud of Yonghwa for his performance that he’d forget to punish him for his casual thievery.

The song was called Butterfly, soft and pretty just like the creature it was named after. It took Yonghwa a long time to figure out which song he wanted to perform because this solo was not just a test of skill, but also an opportunity to showcase himself. Most importantly, however, it was a guessing game to see if he could give Legacy exactly what they were looking for in this trimester of the show. Judging by the song line up they were assigned: Hit, Movie Star, Boom and Side Effect, Yonghwa guessed the solo song they were all fighting for was something full of youthful energy. Something with a strong beat and would make its listeners want to get up and dance.

아무것도 생각하지 마 넌 아무 말도 꺼내지도 마 그냥 내게 웃어줘

Did the song Butterfly inspire those feelings? Perhaps not and indeed, Yonghwa was aware he could be making a mistake by not trying harder to give the company the image they wanted. However, there was a voice inside of his chest that told him to do a song he felt a connection with. To show Legacy who he was in hopes of being understood and potentially debuting in a group that was closer to his style. Versatility was important in a hopeful trainee, but holding on to some individuality meant he might stand out in his own way.

난 아직도 믿기지가 않아 이 모든 게 다 꿈인 것 같아 사라지려 하지마

So he danced as he sang, fluidity in his arms as they swept over his head. His bright blue sleeves lingered briefly in the air, like the wings of a butterfly moments before it took off in flight. To some, blue butterflies were spiritual guardians and to see one meant changes were coming. For better or perhaps for worst, either way, Yonghwa was willing to see this journey to its end.

His pants and shoes were both black and with his shirt so blue, the only warm tone he had on his entire body was the berry red tint of his lips. The color contrast was deliberate and for once, not just so he could look good but also ensure the product stood out. Innisfree lip balm, that’s right. There was a box of them handed out as show freebies and Yonghwa may or may not have grabbed a handful of them (discreetly, of course). For a poor dude with only 5000 won max in cash on him at all times, getting free stuff was glorious. And, well, Yonghwa had always been the grateful sort so he figured the least he could do would be to ensure Red Tangerine looked banging on him. He had three other colors, but this one suited him the best in this outfit so it was his pick.

For those who were observant or perhaps was rewatching the episode, they might be able to see the top of the Innisfree lip balm tube peeking out from his pant pocket. Sometimes, showing less meant more - this way, people would have a chance to become curious before they actually got to see the product reveal, which he intended to do during the interview later. If his interview ended up not getting aired, then he did his due diligence to Innisfree by giving their product a chance. Someone who was truly interested could always search up the lip balm from the container shape.

As the song drifted towards its conclusion, he turned his back, his hands folding together to form a butterfly as the ending pose.

Interview

How did you make your song selection?

“It was so difficult to choose, actually. I thought about all the different songs I wanted to do and really struggled with indecision.” Yonghwa sat down in front of his interviewers, dabbing his forehead lightly with his sleeve. Choreography for Butterfly may seem simple to a less professional pair of eyes, but it was actually pretty difficult to keep the flow. Singing and dancing at the same time added to the difficulty of the performance, since Yonghwa had to keep his vocals stable throughout. “I considered doing another song called Lie before because it had a beautiful dance but I was unable to keep my voice steady with all of the jumps and spins.” He put his hands together in an apologetic gesture. “Sorry, I will keep practicing so I can improve my vocal skills and show you guys that song next time!”

He took a sip of water as the interviewer leaned forward with a second question.

What do you think of your performance?

“I think it is a good representation of who I am as a person,” he said, taking out the Innisfree balm and running it across his bottom lip. It was normal to re-apply lip balm after drinking water, right? Yonghwa pressed his lips together a few times to distribute the color, making sure the product label was visible underneath his fingers for a second before it was tucked back into his pocket. “I really enjoyed myself and I hope I was able to accurately display the feeling of longing that came with the song. Though there is always room for improvement, I am proud of my performance.”

Out of all the songs for Legacy Boys, which is your favorite?

He thought about it for a second before answering. “I really like Hit and Movie Star. Hit because it is really upbeat and the choreography is wonderful. Movie Star has a...suave vibe that I really love. Of course, the song I will be doing with other Junior Day trainees is also great. The producers made something very passionate and energetic. It will be a challenge for me since I am generally pretty soft-spoken and am not used to shouting so much during performances. I am, however, up for the challenge and I will try my best to show you guys a wilder side of me.” Hahaha, promises first, we’ll figure out how to deliver these promises later.

Out of all the songs for Legacy Girls, which is your favorite?

“I think Latata will be really cool. A wonderfully catchy song with amazing choreography - I am sure the Legacy girls will kill it. Ladies, fighting!”

#link: butterfly cover 0:00-1:44 #lgc:futuredreams #i wrote three dang paragraphs of product placement what #(innisfree lip balm)#interview is long i am sorry

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scrappywriting · 6 years ago

Text

Laslow has a crush on like, everyone, and he knows it. Selena and Odin sit there listening to him gush about the newest person; they're supportive or vaguely teasing because all of them know it won't last. It never does.

They've been in Nohr for three months exactly. They've been in the service of the Nohrian royal family for thirteen days and twelve hours. In those thirteen days they had met up, sometimes in pairs, sometimes the whole trio, but now was the first time they'd been unsupervised.

Laslow checks nonetheless- Niles is already suspicious-looking, and it's clear that not everyone was happy with three complete strangers being assigned to guard two princes and a princess.

But they must be in the clear because the first thing out of Laslow's mouth is "Lord Xander is amazing!" and it's higher-pitched than normal. Like Laslow is trying to contain his enthusiasm and failing, badly.

"Oh my gods," Selena groans, rolling her eyes in the most exaggerated way. "Laslow, not again!"

"Lord Leo's gone on about Lord Xander," Odin muses from his books. Nohr's library has as many as (present, not Future) Ylisse's. Odin devoured all of them for his theatrics, and simply because he loved to know things. How can he resist an entirely new world with entirely new lore? "The Crown Prince of Nohr. The eldest, most responsible sibling. The genius who excels in nearly everything, and only fails to outpace Lord Leo in magic."

"And he told you this much?"

"No, he told Niles. Lord Leo noticed and asked me to find a lodestone "imbued with the essence of darkness" immediately."

Selena looks at Odin. Laslow looks at Odin, too.

"...and did you?"

"Of course! How could the great Odin Dark fail to acquire a lodestone whose twin soul called out to him? I travelled long and far- buuut that's not the point." Maybe his backtracking has something to do with the look his friends are giving him. "From how Lord Leo spoke of his elder brother, fondly, but with envy dripping off every word, even my dark aura couldn't help being impressed."

"Now that you mention it, Lady Camilla spoke of Xander as well. But Lady Camilla is fond of all her siblings, and most of the castle, too."

"Even you?" Odin teases, and he leans back in his chair as Selena swipes at him.

"Especially me. I'm her favourite retainer." It's been under fourteen days, so who knows if that's true. But Selena seems proud, and then she stops, looking at Laslow expectantly. "What makes Lord Xander is so great, Laslow?"

Laslow's eyes light up. His whole face lights up, and he spends the next thirty minutes telling them.

Camilla hugs him. She hugs everyone, so Laslow's really nothing special. The interaction is only three minutes at most, and a lot of fawning over Selena, not her "handsome little friend" (who she's surely heard all about from Xander, because the siblings are close). Eventually Camilla leaves and tells them to relax while they can, and to take care of themselves.

Selena turns, maybe to apologize for how huggy Camilla was, or maybe to smugly tell Laslow that Camilla really is the best Royal. But his eyes are wide and bright as he stares after Camilla, and all those thoughts scatter. She's seen that look. Odin's seen that look.

He's head over heels with adoration, and it's not even new. But for some reason it makes her embarrassed to think of: Laslow is going to be padding after her, asking her to have tea. Camilla will put up with it, maybe even coo over him.

"Laslow!"

"She's amazing," he breathes, and his voice- catches? in his throat? "I'd seen her training before, but now? Beautiful, caring, strong; you've told me of her threats to enemies, how she adores her allies. She truly is a goddess!"

"I mean, well, yeah. Lady Camilla is something special."

"She truly is! I can see why you adore her-"

Selena's cheeks go as red as her hair. Her voice squeaks, just a little. "Excuse me?"

It's not as sharp as it usually is.

Laslow talks, on and on, about the little things he's noticed from their interaction. About how Camilla really isn’t just a pretty lady; she wields a battleaxe with ease, and her hugs could break bone. (Maybe.)

For some reason, Selena doesn't tell Laslow to be quiet.

Odin calls Laslow to the library, then begs off for some epic quest. That's the only reason Laslow is in the library in the first place- the books Odin's been reading are good, but dense. The view from the windows is nice, though, and it's peaceful enough: occasionally castle staff wanders in and out, sometimes using it as a shortcut between other rooms.

Someone's left a chess board.

Lord Leo appears looking for Odin, then looking a little put out that the astounding Odin Dark has vanished into thin air. He’s undeniably pretty, and Laslow says something he doesn’t remember in the end: about difficult missions and grand adventures, and how Odin will likely be back with some tall tale to excuse the wait. Can he help?

Helping, apparently, is by playing chess.

He isn't terrible at it, but he isn't great, either. They talk as they play but in the end Leo beats him soundly. He thanks Laslow, then excuses himself politely; the assignment he has really cannot wait. Only when his footsteps have well faded and Laslow has put away, then unpacked the chessboard, running his fingers over the pieces, does Odin pop out from behind a bookshelf.

Odin is grinning, wider and smugger than usual. He must have heard everything- and only then does Laslow realize why Odin call him, then fail to appear to his new liege’s summons, even with the promise of some new and exciting adventure.

"You set me up!"

"Indeed! I heard you met Lady Camilla, but Lord Leo is... not quite a people person. But never mind that! What do you think?"

"He's very private and intelligent. Lord Leo plays long games to save as many pieces as possible, while Lord Xander balances time and sacrifices." He pauses to glance at the board, then grins ruefully. "I can't seem to match wits with either of them."

"And you're crushing on both of them! And Lady Camilla!"

"I know!" Laslow covers his face, and his ears go bright red. "I think it's because they're royalty; they're just, different from a normal per...son..."

He stops. Odin's smug grin goes even wider.

"No! I didn't mean it like that! Odin!"

"Remember that time-"

"Odin!!"

EDIT: Well. I posted this on AO3. Right now it’s just an edited version of this draft, but I guess I could edit this post to have some behind-the-scenes / author confirmation stuff with each new chapter? Assuming I don’t hide under a rock and try to forget about this.

I put in the notes of this post that it was supposed to be 10, but things change and I’ll explain why later. Anyway, each chapter is supposed to have 3 crushes, loosely related/connected somehow, and will be posted when I’m either satisfied with them or sick and tired of seeing them.

Chapter/Section 1: Nohr Siblings (Xander, Camilla, Leo)

"I think it's because they're royalty" - Intended as a noodle incident in which Laslow had a crush on any (or all) royal(s) in Ylisse's family. Despite being dorks, FE royalty tends to be good-looking and just "better" than common folk, yeah?

This chapter was the easiest to write, since I didn’t actually commit myself to the story. It’s been mostly done for a while, and just edited a bit since. Once I kind of committed myself to this being a 12-part (4 part?) story, this became the part I was kind of dissatisfied with: not really a “story”, because it wasn’t.

Chapter/Section 2: "Close Acquaintances” (Peri, Corrin, Felicia)

Odin and Laslow are both freaked out by Peri in their supports. I never understood that- they’ve dealt with the loss of their parents, and jumped back in time, and fought in a war they shouldn’t have been born for, and defeated a dragon who was also a god. Peri’s small fry.

I wrote the middle section envisioning Odin misfiring a spell and burning his arms up to his elbows. Magic’s energy, injuries are physical, so he’s totally wiped. If you assumed Laslow helped him to a cot and just threw him facedown, good! (Edit: He’s awfully chatty for someone who’s wiped, and that’s based on my personal experiences with injuries and general illness. Barring sore throats, I sound totally fine up till I conk out. I know it’s not the case for everyone, but Odin seems the type.)

Felicia reminds me a lot of Cynthia, and I imagine Selena would remember how she underestimated Cynthia and could only tie with her in competitions. Also, I believe Selena’s the best at giving people silent treatment until they cave. (Though, it doesn’t work on Beruka or Camilla.)

Chapter/Section 3: ??? (66% 'done’; aiming for March 12, 2019)

Alright, I obviously haven’t managed to update this as intended. Do I have a good reason? Nah. I managed to cut my pinky finger, which doesn’t super affect my typing. If I typed for longer than a few minutes it’d start to feel odd and tingly. But good news; the cut’s finally closed up and the tingling is dying down, so things should be back on track soon!

Further update: Turns out your pinky is actually important to grip strength and there’s minor nerve damage to the tune of “Hm, it’s a little difficult to bend it in a claw stretch”.

Chapter/Section 4: ??? (66% ‘done’; aiming for March 19, 2019)

#Fire Emblem Fates #Unfinished fic #Laslow #Selena #Odin #saved in my files as #Laslow: Puppy Love #basically he crushes on 10 people #over the course of the draft #and his friends make fun of him #and he regrets talking to them every time #FE14

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smokeybrand · 4 years ago

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The Fallacy of Education

I think elementary school is necessary to an extent but everything I've ever learned after probably the third grade, was during summer break at the library and then all of the time when my family got a computer. I never really learned anything “new” in a classroom setting, from probably the fourth grade and forward. Sure, it's dope to have someone bounce ideas off but you can do that with anyone. You can do that online. Hell, I DO that online now. SO what the f*ck is the merit of going through the tribulations of “school?” Capitalism. Capitalism is the “merit.” School is designed to break your spirit as a youth and train you to be a drone in the workforce. The structure of how education here in the US has been built, is designed to acclimate you to a forty hour work week early on. It's built to make you yearn for holidays and the weekends. It grooms you to raise your hands to ask questions and punishes those who deviate from the assigned tasks. Free thinkers are shunned and the arts are almost always removed in one form or another. Creativity is killed in service to conformity because capitalism needs that in order to function. The second it's removed, the second people questions the status quo, is the second they understand the terrible conditions in which they've been forced to exist. But, if you're not smart enough to ask the right questions, then there is no threat to the current class system.

When i got to fifth grade, i went to a substantially sh*ttier school than before. We move into a worse ghetto than the one I grew up in for he majority of my life and that was reflected in this school's curriculum. These kids were morons. That wasn't there fault, the system had failed them because it was assumed they weren't worth the investment. We'd all end up being thugs and criminals because that was what our zip code dictated. When I got there, I kind of f*cked all of that up. These kids were reading well under their grade, the “smart” one rad at a high school level if I remember but i could read at a college level. Indeed, I was well into checking out Shakespeare and Dante by this point. That was too much for my teacher. He graded on a curve because the kids were so stupid and, after that fist test where everyone failed but me because I got such a high mark, told me flat out that there was nothing he could teach me. I became kind of a TA in that class and never turned in another assignment for the entire year. He just gave me As on everything and apologized profusely for not being able to adequately challenge me. It was difficult to see because I would tell this dude loved teaching and he had an opportunity to rally flex his passion with me but the system in which he had to work wouldn't allow him to do any of that. Because the system, itself, isn't built to educate. Imagine being an educator trapped in that cage? Now imagine being a student trapped in there, too, oblivious to the handicap you've just been saddled with.

When i got to the seventh grade, i was put into remedial courses against my ill. We moved back to my old neighborhood ahead of my sixth grade year so I was able to return to my previous school where it was understood that myself and a handful of others were WAY too smart for our own good. They got us more advanced materials from the surrounding high schools and basically told us to teach ourselves. My then principal drove us over to a separate middle school because it was supposed to have better materials and more advanced courses than the neighborhood one. Our principal and the one in the middle school spoke, we all demonstrated our intelligence, and it was agreed we'd be placed in advanced courses in the coming year. When the new year started, I was not placed in those agreed upon courses. My zip code reflected the ghetto and not the bourgeois neighborhood this new school was in. They assumed i was an idiot, even though i was enrolled specifically for the more challenging curriculum, and dismissed my previous academic accomplishments without a word. My elementary school principal literally drove me over there and introduced me to that school's principal because she wanted to make sure the staff understood that i was wildly intelligent "for my age." Didn't matter. They saw a Meadowview zip and i was put into classes with a bunch of idiots. When i protested, they refused to change my schedule. It didn't take long for most of my teachers to realize I wouldn't be in such pedestrian classes but the administration refused to budge. I was ghetto trash and they didn't want to hear anything else, even if it was coming directly from the teachers in charge of me education. My science teacher literally had us coloring f*cking pictures as work assignments. I refused to do such ridiculous busy work, demanded that he teach me some sh*t and, instead, he suspended me from his class and threatened to fail me.

When i got to high school, i was wildly disillusioned by education and basically coasted my way through. I understood that i could learn more on my own and pushed to be home schooled. The way the that system works is you show up for in-class check-in on Monday and pick up a packet of schoolwork. You complete the school work through the week and turn it the following Monday. No classroom. No teachers. No fuss. All of my credits, and then some, and none of the the everyday baggage. I could excel at my own pace, which we have established far outstripped whatever the f*ck the curriculum is at any given time. Plus, I could return to proper coursework at any time. My plan was to knock out about three years worth of credits that first year and try to get into the off-campus internship with the State. It was called the Regional Occupation Program. I'd be paid to work for the State part time while accumulating proper work experience, and still have time to take some college courses at the local Community College. I'd still be able to come back and participate in all of the social sh*t like dances and games plus, I'd be able to walk the stage with my proper class. I'd be able to challenge myself, build toward my future, and still have that high school experience. But my mom refused. Everything i said here, I said to her, and she still refused. She's a slave to tradition and tradition dictated that i HAD to go to class everyday. The system HAD to be maintained. So i did and, as the years progressed, i went less and less. By senior year, i went just enough to keep the cops of her back and still graduated with a 3.8. I never one applied myself in high school and literally just showed up because cops, gym, and girls. Most days, i left early because f*cking why not? I wasn't learning anything. I wasn't being enriched in anyway. By my senior year, I had two Teacher's Assistant classes, two gym classes, Government and a creative writing course. I never went to that one because it was the last class of the day and Transformers came on halfway through it so I skipped it everyday. In order to pass, I just printed out a novel I wrote when I was in the eighth grade. He gave me an A, even though I was only there in person around thirty percent of the school year. I was writing high school level sh*t when I was thirteen. That's the story of my whole life and it didn't get any better when I got to college.

I thought it was going to get better when i got to college. It did not. I had toured a few campuses around my neighborhood and even sat in on a course or two. I went to a few College Fairs and even got accepted into a couple of HBCs. After a I graduated high school I opted to go to a community college that was near by. I' m poor so I couldn't afford a proper school and the scholarships available to me were all partial. I didn't want to have to split time between working and college so I figured if I got the core courses out of the way early, I could lighten the load and have an Associates to take into a part time gig or something later. I had actually gotten into Stanford and wanted to go but the cost of living was WAY too staunchy so this Community college plan was the best option. I lasted a semester. That sh*t was like going back to high school but i had to pay for it out of pocket. I had dreams of debate and lecture, of challenging a professor who could challenge me in return What I got was more of the uniform apathy that has dogged me my entire education career, only now it was driving me into f*cking debt. I love learning. I love reading. I love thinking. None of that I was even conducive to school here in the states. Often times, it was objectively frowned upon. From kindergarten to literally college, I was always under the gun in that sense. To this day, my curiosity is insatiable and I research everything. I want to know all of the things and the big sh*t like theoretical physics or the math necessary to infer the universe before the big bang, is absolutely tantalizing to me. I was frustrated with the stifling rigidity of school f*cking twenty years ago. I can't even imagine what it's like for kids nowadays.

The education system in the US is f*cking ridiculous. It's not meant to build intelligence or free thinking, it's an assembly line method designed to acclimate you to a forty hour work week. It's supposed to get you used to sacrificing the majority of your life in service to capitalism, busting ass just to get to the weekend or next holiday off, because that's how you'll live the rest of your adult life. They're not in the business of education or teaching life skills, they're in the business of manufacturing more cogs for the great machine that is the “economy.” Why the f*ck do I need to know Algebra 2 when I can't do my own taxes? Why the f*ck do we have to spend three weeks studying the Crucible when I don't know how compound interests works? Parents should play a part in this, for sure, but how difficult is that for them to do? They are victims of the same system and have to sacrifice their liberty in order to pay bills, after being bludgeoned with that same aggressive system necessary for them to abandon their hopes. A smart person is a difficult person to manipulate. When people understand, or even have the ability to comprehend, the scales fall from their eyes. We're seeing that now with the “Employment crisis” and how no one wants to go back to being underpaid and overworked after a the Pandemic showed the world for what it was. It's in capitalism's best interests to make sure the masses are smart enough to produce but dumb enough to never understand that they control the means of production. Why do you think everyone wants the kids to "get back into the classroom" when it's obviously easier to "teach" kids over zoom? When it's obvious that they learn more and understand better at home? When entire grade averages have increased considerably, over the entire country, since kids have been studying at home? Because that structure is more important than the learning. Every kid has a phone, computer, or tablet at this point. Internet is everywhere. There's no reason to have in-class learning, especially considering how many f*cking classrooms get shot up around these parts. Especially considering that there are more kids like me thanks to the ready-to-consume inf oration at our fingertips. This one got away from me but i really, really, hate the "education system" here. It's so boorish and archaic, f*cking obsolete, especially in the age of the information, so why go back to that broken system? Because capitalism needs drones not dreamers. It needs conformists, not thinkers. It needs ignorance not education.

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davidcarner · 7 years ago

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Chuck vs Truffaut Industries Ch 2, Complicated

A/N: So, most of you like it, some of you are a little irritated at Sarah (some of you all are flat mad). So, let's see what we can do about that. Backstory time. Sit back, get in your car, head up the 5 to Stanford, find your Arvil Lavigne CD (you know you had it), and put on Complicated. (you might need tissues) Ch 2, Complicated

Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck, but I'm hoping someone makes a movie soon.

Stanford, August 2002

"Are you and Jill coming to the party tonight?" Bryce asked.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," Chuck replied. "I've got class, Buddy, see you later."

Bryce headed back across the quad when he was stopped by a man in a dark suit and sunglasses.

"Bryce Larkin," Langston Graham said. Bryce stopped short.

"Sir, what are you doing here?" Bryce asked.

"This is too important to trust to anyone else," Graham said. "I have an assignment for you."

"Sir, I have class," Bryce said, wanting to do his job, but knowing he couldn't get behind in his classwork. Graham smiled.

"The assignment is on campus," Graham said. "We have reason to believe that Fulcrum has infiltrated parts of the CIA and is already recruiting. We fear that one of your classmates may be an agent."

"Who?"

"Jill Roberts," Graham said, watching the color drain from Bryce's face.

"That's nuts, Sir," Bryce said. "All due respect," he added quickly. Graham nodded.

"Let's be sure," he said, handing him small electronic devices. "Plant these bugs in her purse, phone, residence, wherever you can. Let's be safe rather than sorry." Bryce nodded. "Bryce, above all else, keep Chuck Bartowski safe."

"Chuck, sir?" Bryce asked. "Why would he be in trouble?"

"I don't know that he is, but when we recruited you we also checked out Chuck," Graham explained. "We don't need him going through any more tragedy." Bryce nodded. "I don't want to keep you, Son, but you have to know this is the highest priority."

"I understand, Sir," Bryce said. Graham nodded and Bryce left. He watched him walk away, and pulled out a cell phone.

"Orion, it's done," Graham said. "You'll be surveilling as well? Fine, just get me my Intersect."

Three weeks later

"I can't believe it," Chuck said, taking a swig of another beer. "We got through the summer, that's what I was worried about. I mean I get it, I'm a nerd," he paused and his brows furrowed. "She's a nerd too, but a brainy nerd, you know?" he said, turning to Bryce. "I mean she's kinda outta my league, she's so smart," Chuck said, dreamily. "But to tell me she was doing half the football team, that's just harsh."

"Hypersexuality is such an unknown in the world of medicine," Bryce said, nursing his second beer. Bryce had lost count of how many Chuck had drank. The bug had found Jill was indeed a part of Fulcrum, and in an interesting twist, Graham agreed to keep Jill out of a hole if she would break up with Chuck. He said it had to be something that gave him no chance of ever wanting her back. Bryce wasn't sure her telling Chuck that she was having sex with half of the football team was necessary, but it had done the trick.

"I mean how does she even know some of those guys?" he asked, blowing air out of his cheeks.

"I have no idea, Buddy," Bryce said. He loved Chuck like a brother, but this was the third night of this, and it was enough. Bryce's phone rang. "I gotta take this man." Chuck grinned.

"AHHHH," Chuck said, grinning sloppily. "I know, is it Heather Jenkins, no, I know, Rebecca Stephens." He sat up quickly. "I know, I know, it's Suzie Pfephercorn."

"I don't know Suzie Pfephercorn, Chuck," Bryce said. Chuck thought a second, and then turned back to the bar.

"Yeah, you wouldn't," Chuck admitted. "She went to my high school. She had pretty eyes."

"Eyes, Chuck," Bryce said chuckling. "You can speak freely here," he said, as he patted Chuck's back standing up.

"Thanks, Buddy," Chuck said. "She had the greenest eyes," he said, his glossing over thinking back. "It was like looking into a field of grass in the spring after the rain." Bryce shook his head at his friend, grinning.

"Never change, Buddy, never change," he said walking outside. He called back the number. "Larkin, secure."

"Graham, secure," Graham answered.

"Please for the love of God, Sir, get me out of here," Bryce begged.

"That bad," Graham asked.

"Worse," Bryce answered.

"Hang on tonight, and I'll get my best agent there to watch him over the weekend," Graham answered. "I need you to take out that cell, Larkin, they may be targeting Bartowski."

"Understood, sir," Bryce answered. "Do I need to hand him off?"

"Negative, Bryce," Graham answered. "Leave tomorrow like planned. I have other eyes on him, but I need my best on him. She'll take care of him." Bryce was uncomfortable.

"Sir, no disrespect, but with everything Chuck's been through," Bryce began.

"Larkin, she's not going to seduce him," Graham answered. "She's good enough she doesn't have to do that."

"Thank you, sir," Bryce said. He heard a dial tone. He sighed and walked back in, and Chuck was still talking about Suzie's green eyes."

Simi Valley

Sarah stood in front of her mother's house, and just stared at it. How hard was it to walk up and ring a doorbell, or knock on a door….or better yet, hop in her Porsche and drive off? She sighed, walked up to door and rang the doorbell. The door opened.

"Sa-" Emma began. "What do I call you?"

"It's probably best to call me Sarah," she answered. Emma nodded and pulled her into a hug.

"Come in," Emma said, after they broke the hug. Sarah came in and joined her mom at the kitchen table. "So, what's your mission?"

"No, mission, Mom," Sarah answered, shaking her head. "I'm here for the football game, and to see you."

"Football?" Emma asked grinning. Sarah sighed.

"I mean I do like it, but…Harvard's not that great," she said, sighing. "I've been gone on the weekends for so many CAT Squad missions that I need to do something with the student body." She was silent for a second. "I could use the time to study," she grumbled under her breath.

"How is real school going?"

"Good, I'm going to graduate on time, maybe even early," she said grinning. Emma returned the grin, and then it left. "Mom, please don't," she said softly.

"What did he ever do for you?" Emma spit out. Sarah sighed.

"I have a deal with Graham," Sarah said. "He lets dad out on parole after five years, he clears his name after ten."

"Sweetie, your father doesn't deserve what you're doing for him," Emma said.

"He's my dad," Sarah said softly, tears in her eyes.

"I know, Sweetie, I know," she said, putting her arm around her. "I just hate this."

"I'm getting a college education, dad gets out, and you're okay," Sarah said. "I made the best with the hand I was dealt." Emma held her daughter close, and just looked up at the ceiling.

"I hate this," Emma said softly. Sarah gave a laugh.

"There's days I do too," she admitted. Her phone rang, she groaned, and rolled her eyes. "I've got to take this." Emma nodded, let her go, and Sarah walked to her room.

"Walker, secure," Sarah said.

"I need you to go to Stanford," Graham said.

"I'm going for the game Saturday," she said.

"I need you to go now," Graham said. "We have a high priority target. He's a civilian and he may be in danger, I need you to get close to him and keep him in your sight for the next several days."

"Sir," Sarah began, bile rising in her mouth.

"Sarah, I'm not suggesting what you're worried about," Graham said. "You know me better."

"I know, Sir, it just sounded…yes, Sir, I understand," Sarah said.

"I'll text you the substation address there and the code of the day, they'll have your dossier ready," Graham said. "Sarah, this is a good guy. He is a citizen that's had a terrible hand dealt to him in life, and he needs your protection, that's why I'm sending you, you're my best."

"I'll protect him, Sir," she replied. With that, the call ended. Sarah walked back into the kitchen. "I've got to go." Sarah saw her mom's face. "I'm going to go protect a civilian, it should be little danger." Emma hugged her.

"If you let him rot, no one would blame you," she said.

"I would," Sarah said softly. Emma hugged her tighter.

"You're a better daughter than he ever was a father," Emma said. Sarah laughed as she pulled away.

"Mom, that we can agree on," she said. They said their goodbyes, she climbed into her car, and off she went to Stanford.

The next morning

Chuck was sitting on a bench just looking over the campus. It was Thursday. There would be a lot of parties tonight, and tomorrow night, and Saturday after the game. His plan was to partake of all the free alcohol he could. His brain and stomach wasn't agreeing with that idea right now. He was watching the blonde walk across the quad. She had a map and she had crossed it twice already. It was possible she was lost. He was going to say something to her the next time she passed, but he hadn't seen her again, so he didn't worry about it. He gave a deep, contemplative sigh.

"I mean I passed by twice, you could have said something," the voice came behind him. "Are all you Stanford guys jerks?"

"I'm sorry," Chuck said, never turning his head. "I've been nursing this amazing hangover all morning, and I'm processing on about one quarter speed." She came around him, and plopped on the bench, she studied him for a minute. She sniffed the air, and Chuck laughed.

"Nope, no vomit, and I showered," Chuck said.

"You still smell of alcohol," she said.

"Probably three straight days of drinking," he said. She raised an eyebrow. There was silence for a moment.

"Now see, you can't do that," she said. He turned slowly towards her and lifted his sunglasses, a curious expression on his face. She grinned at him, and Chuck forgot about why he had been drinking. There sitting in front of him was a real life angel. He thought Suzie whatsherface had amazing eyes, they were nothing compared to the girl in front of him. They were blue…a stormy blue, like they would change with her mood, and the grin….he could get lost there forever.

"Chuck Bartowski," he said, offering his hand. She raised an eyebrow. "My parents were sadists." She laughed and shook his hand. Chuck was really wondering why he had been drinking. This amazing woman was laughing at his joke. He just stared at those eyes…and then he realized he might be seen as creepy. "Sorry," he said, as he quit staring into her eyes. "Hung over, not processing."

"I think that's the first time I've ever had my eyes stared at," she said, a smirk on her face. Chuck shrugged.

"What can I say, they're a gateway into the soul," he said. She studied him for a minute.

"Jenny Burton," she said. "I'm supposed to be here with a bunch of friends from Harvard to see the game, and they ditched me." Chuck looked shocked. "Vegas," she said with a grin. Chuck nodded. "So I have no idea where I'm going. Any chance you could show me around?" He looked at her in surprise. "You intrigue me, Chuck Bartowski, and you can finally tell me why you've been drinking for three days."

"My ex-girlfriend was banging half of the football team," Chuck said. Sarah didn't know how to respond. "I'm not sure why just half," he said, and glanced over at Sarah. She couldn't help herself, a fit of laughter burst out of her.

"I mean she only did half the job," Sarah said, giggling.

"Right?" Chuck replied. "She's probably not worth the drinking."

"Probably?"

"She's not," Chuck said, nodding. Sarah stood up and offered him her arm.

"Take me to breakfast," she said. "You could probably use some food that's not liquid form." Chuck stood and took her arm.

"You're exactly right," he said.

}o{

Sarah was trying to not fall out of the chair laughing.

"So, wait," she said, trying not to snort. "You actually call him, Awesome."

"Oh, yeah, everything he does is awesome. Climbing mountains, jumping out of planes, flossing," Chuck said, as Sarah fought off another fit of giggles. "Wait until you meet him." Chuck realized he was assuming a lot. Sarah just smiled. "So what about your closet and skeletons?"

"I am relatively free," she said.

"That's good, I have so much baggage I need my own personal baggage handler," he said.

"Maybe I could be your baggage handler," she said. Sarah kept her face neutral but inside, she was losing it. What was she doing? She was part of the CAT squad, this was a just a civilian, true, a civilian that life had taken a dump on, but a civilian. He wasn't being suave, or trying to get in her pants, and she was caving from honesty? Was she cut out for the CIA life? Chuck was grinning at her.

"You would be the most attractive baggage handler I've ever seen," Chuck said.

"Thank you," she said.

"Don't let it go to your head," he said, grinning. "Have you seen some of them?" She threw a napkin at him, grinning. "Seriously, you have the perfect life?"

"My dad," she said shrugging. Chuck nodded. "I mean nothing as bad as you, your sister raised you."

"But," Chuck said. Sarah grinned, nodded, and thought why not? She'll never see him again after this weekend.

"My dad and I have problems, and it's caused problems between me and my mom," she said. Chuck looked at her. "What?"

"We both know that's not the full story, but that's okay," he said, his smile on full blast. "I've got to earn that story." She leaned forward resting her chin on the back of her hand.

"And how do you plan on doing that?" she asked.

"By showing you every guy at Stanford isn't a jerk," he said. She grinned at him, and then her smile fell. "What's wrong?"

"Well, my friends and I all had hotel rooms booked, but now…" she said, shrugging.

"You trust me?" he asked. "I know you barely know me, but my roommate is gone for the weekend, and if you can handle me being in the same room with you, you can have his bed," he said. She began to smile. "Before you do, he's a bit of a player, so maybe we should find some different sheets." She laughed out loud.

}o{

For the next two days, the two were inseparable. Sarah retrieved her bag from her beat up car provided by the CIA substation. They went to the party Thursday night, Chuck didn't drink, and he and Sarah talked all night. They dozed off in Chuck's bed, on top of the covers, fully clothed, watching a movie, Thursday night. Chuck skipped classes again Friday (he was going to have to kill himself the next few weeks making up all he had blown off) and he and Sarah hung out all day. Friday night was the big fraternity party, and Sarah constantly had someone give her a fresh drink. All the guys were so thankful that someone had pulled Chuck out of his funk. They all were calling her Chuck's girl, and she was playing along, teasing him, and loving every time she caught a blush on his cheeks. She was feeling all the effects of the alcohol, Chuck, and his friends encouraging her, that when she made her way to their room that night, she didn't have it in her to deny herself.

"Jenny, what are you doing?" Chuck asked.

"I'm going to show that idiot ex-girlfriend of yours how stupid she was for cheating on you," Sarah said, slightly swaying, trying to line up his lips for another kiss. How did this nerd kiss so well? Chuck took a deep breath.

"Jenny, you're drunk and we can't do this," Chuck said.

"Why not?" she asked. "I know how, and if you don't know I can teach you," she said, waggling her eyebrows.

"Jenny, not like this," Chuck said, hating his moral code. "Not like this."

"You're right, I've got too many clothes on," she said, grinning. Chuck blew out a breath.

"Okay, let's try this, you go over there, wait for me under the covers," Chuck said. "I'm going to go brush my teeth and I'll be right back." Sarah smiled.

"That's the spirit," she said, patting his cheek. "Hurry back," she said, stumbling into the bed. Her shirt was flying off, as Chuck sprinted out the door. He shut the door and turned and saw one of his fraternity brothers smiling at him and shaking his head.

"She's drunk, wants to, and you won't," he said. Chuck nodded. "Dude, if you ever want to date my sister, I'm cool with it." Chuck laughed softly.

"For the record, I hate myself," Chuck said. His fraternity brother laughed, patted him on the arm, and headed downstairs. Chuck wondered how long he should wait, when he heard a sound coming from his room. He grinned and opened the door, and there was Jenny Burton, snoring. She had one leg sticking out from under the covers. He stared at it, and then jerked his eyes away, refusing to follow it to its eventual end. He walked over, and managed to get the leg in bed without seeing anything. He walked over to his bed, thought about changing clothes, but decided against it, just in case. He crawled into bed, and went to sleep.

}o{

Chuck woke up, hearing Sarah tossing and turning. Sunlight was starting to pour into the window. Sarah suddenly sat up with the blanket held tightly against her.

"Oh, God," she said, looking under the sheet. She turned and looked over at him. "Chuck," she said, her face frantic.

"For the record, that's the first time you uttered that phrase in this room today," Chuck said, shaking his head no. She took a second to process what he was saying, and then the giggles began. They turned into full fledge laughter from both of them.

"Funny," she said. Chuck shrugged. "About last night," she began.

"Please don't apologize," Chuck said. She looked at him. "You have pulled me out of the biggest funk in the world, and I should have watched out for you better last night, my frat brothers…they were hoping I'd…you know." She grinned at him.

"Thank you for being a gentleman," she said, grinning shyly. Chuck nodded.

"I need to take a shower…a cold one," he said.

"Was that necessary?" she asked.

"You offered to teach me last night," Chuck said. Sarah hid her face in her hand. "Jenny, it was fine, it happens, but I need to be totally honest with you, if you weren't drunk last night…" Sarah stared at him, and then she winked. "And Bob's your uncle!" he yelled shutting the door, Sarah laughed.

}o{

They had spent the day around campus, holding hands, and Sarah found herself finding ways to wrap Chuck's arm around her where she could. She was falling for him, and she knew she couldn't, she shouldn't. She was. During the game she found Chuck's arms around her from behind, and after it was over they walked to the frat house. The party was in full swing, but they ignored it and went upstairs. She shut the door, and locked it. Chuck looked at her nervously.

"Jill, was an idiot," she said, grinning.

"Yeah?" he asked. She closed the distance between them quickly and attacked his lips. This was what she wanted to do. A part of her hated herself. They had no chance at a future, and she wanted one. She wanted a life where she could meet Chuck Bartowski, date him, fall in love, marry him, and have 2.5 kids and a white house, red door, and a white picket fence. She hated her dad so much right now, and she loved this man in front of her. A little girl today had lost her balance, fallen, and spilled her drink. After Chuck made sure she was okay, and they found her parents, he had gotten her another one. She hated her dad so much.

"Chuck, I'm not drunk tonight," Sarah said.

"I'm not either," Chuck replied, grinning, she returned the grin.

}o{

It was around 4 when she heard her text go off. She unwrapped herself from Chuck and gave him a long look. What had happened last night…magical. She hated what had to happen next. She got her phone, saw that the threat had been neutralized, and she could come home. She had thought about how this would happen for a long time, and while she hated it, it had to happen. She got dressed, wrote a note, kissed Chuck softly on his head, ran her fingers through his curls, and then said the words she needed to say.

"I love you, Chuck Bartowksi," she said softly. She grabbed her bag, slipped out the door, and headed to the CIA substation.

When Chuck woke in the morning, he knew she was gone, he could feel it. Part of him ached. Ached like he never had before. He saw the note, and picked it up.

Chuck,

I hate leaving, but what I hate more is not letting you know how to contact me. Jill is an idiot, never forget that. Never forget that you are loved. I will always carry a piece of you with me. I know one guy at Stanford who is definitely not a jerk.

Love,

Jenny Burton

Chuck held the letter next to him. He carefully folded it and put it in his wallet.

"I love you too, Jenny," he said.

}o{

2 week later, Stanford

"Bryce, I'm in," Chuck said, happy as could be. He was going to find her.

"All right, Buddy, I knew you could do it," he said. Bryce had a feeling he knew what had happened. Some poor CIA agent came into Chuck's life, and had got turned upside down. She hadn't been prepared for the heartwarming that this nerd possessed. Chuck's fingers stopped typing. "Found her?" he asked with a smile.

"Jenny Burton doesn't exist," Chuck said dejectedly. "There is no Jenny Burton at Harvard," he said, turning to Bryce. "Why would she lie about her name?"

}o{

6 week later, Langley

"Walker, good to see you," Graham said. "Have a seat."

"I'm pregnant, sir," Sarah said.

"How did this happen?" Graham asked. Sarah was in no mood.

"Well, when a woman and a man-" she saw the look on his face and stopped. I blame Chuck for that. I wonder if his kid is messing with my mind. Part of her smiled at that thought. "My assignment at Stanford."

"Sarah, that was a great sacrifice," Graham said, struggling to keep his emotions.

"Sir, it was my choice," she said. "I want to keep this baby."

"And the father?" he asked. She shook her head.

"I don't know," she said softly.

"Why don't you give it a week and then we'll talk, but as for now, you are an analyst." She nodded and left. Graham picked up the phone and made a call. "Orion, you should know, the agent I sent to watch your son, they…she's pregnant." He listened for a minute, and his mouth fell open. "You don't know that she's like your wife! You've never met her." He sighed and blew out a breath. "I understand Orion, he'll not be told, but I better have that intersect soon, or I'll call him personally. Do you understand? Goodbye." Graham hung up his phone, sat there a second, stood up quickly, and with an arm knocked everything off his desk in a rage. He sat back down with his head in his hands. "They don't deserve this."

}o{

A week later

"Sarah, have you decided about Bartowksi?" Graham asked. She shook her head. "Sarah, he's a civilian. You didn't tell him your name, you're a CIA agent, and your family's past, do you think he'd want to be a part of that?" She shook her head, tears coming out of her eyes. "I think deep down you know." She nodded.

"I won't tell Chuck," she said. She left a few minutes later. Graham pulled out a flask.

"Of all the things I've done in this job, this feels like the worst," he said.

}o{

One year later

Sarah stormed into Graham's office.

"What the hell!?" she screamed. "He got expelled from Stanford!?"

"Sarah, calm down," Graham said.

"Calm down!? I have that man's child, who he can't know about and you want me to be calm because one of your agents got him expelled!?"

"How do you know about this anyway?" he asked his eyes narrowing. Sarah realized she was caught.

"He's my child's father, I can't not know," she said. Graham's face softened.

"Sarah," he said softly. She was near tears.

"She lives an hour from his sister's apartment," she said, crying. "I only get to see Molly a little each month, he could be there with her."

"You know it's not for the best," Graham said, sick to his stomach.

"I know," she said. "I made a deal with you, one I will honor." Graham nodded.

"He's already out," Graham said. Sarah looked up at him. "We had a deal, I honored it. Now, it's time for you to go to the Farm and finish your training.

"What about the CAT squad?" she asked.

"Without you, it wasn't the same," he said. She nodded and left.

}o{

One year later. Ice Cream shop, New York City

"I'll have a scoop of Butter Pecan," the man said.

"And two scoops of Rocky Road in a cup," Sarah said, behind him. He turned around and grinned at her. He turned back to the cashier.

"You heard my darlin'. Two scoops," he said. They went and sat. "What are you doing here?"

"Nice to see you too, Dad," Sarah said.

"It's Jack Burton today," Jack replied, winking.

"Ahh, playing the hits," she said, grinning.

"Talk," he said, watching her. She gave him a look. "What? I still know all your tells." Sarah sighed and told him about the deal she made with Graham, Chuck, and the baby.

"And, now, in two months or so, they're going to give me a red test. I have to kill someone, Dad, someone very dangerous, but someone," she said. Tears were in her eyes.

"Sarah, you're not a murderer," Jack said. "That's not you. Cons, protecting people, all the rest, is fine, but killing someone, bad guy or not, that's not you." She smiled and he laid his hand on hers. "You know this, so why come ask me?"

"Because a girl needs her dad," she said. "Even when he is a bad one." She grinned, but he looked at her seriously.

"Then why haven't you told that schnook?" Jack asked. "Because we both know he'd be a better one than I am." Sarah put her hand to her mouth. "Darlin' tell him. I don't think he's gonna care."

"But she's sixteen months old," Sarah said.

"Better late than never."

}o{

The next day, Langley

"Sarah, what can I do for you?" Graham asked, knowing what was coming.

"I can't pass the red test," Sarah said. "Too much has changed in my life."

"I know," Graham said. "And I know why you stayed on. I should have done away with our deal then."

"So, what do we do?" Sarah asked, terrified.

"Stay away from Bartowski for the next four years and your father's record is expunged." Sarah's eyes bugged out of her head. "There's still some heat on him," Graham said. "Stay away for four years, your father stays out of prison." Sarah nodded. "We'll finish all the paperwork tomorrow." Sarah got up and left. Graham picked up his phone.

"Orion, I've gotten what you wanted, but this is sick," Graham said. "You are purposely breaking up another family. Why don't you give them a chance instead of projecting your problems onto them? Fine! Just get me my damn Intersect!"

}o{

A few weeks later, Simi Valley, Christmas

"Look at you, holding your girl," Emma said to Sarah. "Sarah, your dad wouldn't want this." Sarah had tears in her eyes.

"Look, in four years I'll go see him and explain all of it," she said. "Then we'll see."

"Sarah," her mom began. Sarah shook her head.

"There's no chance of an us," she said softly. "I've already messed it up too bad."

"Is he seeing anyone?" Emma asked. Sarah shook her head. "How do you know?" Sarah wouldn't look at her, as she looked away sheepishly. "Have you wondered why?" Sarah didn't want to, but she grinned.

"He's very into his career right now," Sarah answered.

"Didn't you say he worked at the Buy More for $11 an hour?" Emma asked.

"He's working on other stuff," Sarah said. Emma shook her head.

"Dada," Molly said, pointing at the picture of Sarah and Chuck from that weekend.

"He is," Sarah said. "One day, baby, one day."

}o{

Four months later, Echo Park

She slowly opened the Morgan door. She had done this a half a dozen times the last six months. She should just tell him, and damn the consequences. She walked quietly right beside him.

"Jenny," he mumbled, a grin on his face. She felt things move in her. She softly stroked his hair, leaned down, and kissed his head.

"I love you, Chuck. Nothing's changed," she said softly and went to the window. "I'll be back in a few weeks," and with that she left.

}o{

Three months later

"And you're telling me the CIA is telling them if my granddaughter doesn't meet her father, I keep the deal?" Jack asked. Emma nodded. "Screw that."

"Gwanpa," Molly said.

"Do you want to see Dada?" Jack asked Molly.

"See Dada!" Molly yelled, and clapped.

"Jack, are you sure?" Jack reached over and put his hand on Emma's.

"Emma, I've screwed this family up enough, isn't it time I make things right?" Emma smiled at him.

"You were always a schnook, but you're my schnook," Emma said. "And I think I have just the idea."

}o{

This morning

"Ray, Emma Truffaut here. Yes, I know you're coming in, but my IT guy was looking at it, and he says it's a big deal. We're on a time crunch, and I was told about a Chuck Bartowski that is supposed to be the best, do you think there is any way you could get him? Really. Of course I need that for the building. Absolutely we can purchase that. Thanks. Oh, and Ray, don't let Chuck know we asked for him. Thanks." Emma smiled as she hung up and looked at Molly.

"It's time we straighten this mess out, sweetie."

}o{

Now

“I guess you did know where he was all along,” Emma said. Sarah gave her a sad smile as she brushed his hair with her hand.

“Yeah,” she admitted. “And I know that you did this on purpose.” Emma just grinned.

“She trusts him,” Emma said.

“Dada hurt his head?” Molly asked, coming over to brush his hair like Sarah was.

“He’s okay baby,” Sarah said.

“Dada come home?” Molly asked. Tears were in Sarah’s eyes as she looked up at Emma.

“Perhaps I didn’t think this out,” Emma said.

“Dada wake up,” Molly said, and leaned down to kiss his cheek. Chuck opened his eyes and looked at Molly and then Sarah. “Dada!” Chuck looked at Sarah.

“99.2%?” he asked. Sarah shrugged. Chuck looked at Molly then to Sarah.

“I think we need to talk,” Sarah said.

A/N: Still mad at Sarah? Until next time.

#Chuck #Sarah #MOLLY!#Charah #fanfic #fanfiction #Chuck vs Truffaut Industries

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smidgeonofpidgeon-blog · 8 years ago

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part 1/?

i don't know how confidently i can say that i believed in fate growing up.

sure, i could understand that things sometimes just...fell into place. life worked like that, and there wasn't always something you could do about it.

i don't believe in fate. didn't. i'm not so sure.

life has a funny way of changing your mind.

i'm very much the kind of person that will happily tune out the rest of the world, as it tends to be ugly in a way that i would rather not be involved in. unless i can help it, and in most cases i can't.

i say this because throughout my time at school, growing up, in life in general, i am very secluded. unless you make yourself known in my immediate vicinity, bring yourself to my attention, i'll never know you exist. no offense meant, i just don't spare extra energy into looking outside of my personal bubble.

i didn't know who she was.

i'm sure i knew of her, that she was, indeed, a person. in my grade, in my town.

but walking into that chemistry class in sophomore year, we were most definitely strangers.

i don't know what it was about her that caught my attention, and i still couldn't tell you if you asked. i really don't know. but when i ended up assigned in a hard plastic seat next to her, i won't say that i minded.

because i didn't.

at first i thought it was just that i wanted to be friends with her. i remember distinctly thinking that at the time, "I really want to be friends with this girl." i didn't have any reason to suspect anything more from myself.

as far as i knew, i was straight, and i loved my boyfriend.

so i didn't have a problem with talking to her. there was no shyness on my end, because to me it wasn't anything more than wanting to be her friend.

i didn't pay attention to a single detail in that class other than the way she has dimples when she smiles, and her eyelashes are so long they reach up to brush her lenses when she blinks.

to this day, i know next to nothing about chemistry.

she was funny, awkward, shy and captivating. from anyone else i wouldn't have bothered. i don't fall into those circles, and i never have. we weren't the same, but somehow she still understood things when i didn't speak, she knew how to talk when i didn't, she just knew.

i remember admiring her for her courage.

she was so afraid, and i could see it. fear was buried deep in the set of her shoulders and rested behind every smile, and even when she couldn't meet my eyes i knew it was there.

i had grown up very sheltered, i'll freely admit that. my trauma falls in a far different category than hers.

i didn't know what she was afraid of, but i remember hating it with more passion than i'd ever felt in my entire life.

what had caused such a beautiful person to be so closed off? so timid in every move she made, reduced her to the dark circles that hollowed out her eyes and made her whole body lock up at the slam of a door or a scrape of a chair?

then i found her social media.

i don't remember being surprised; it actually brought a smile to my face when i found out.

very openly, she was LGBT. in smalltown, backroad-filled, conservative-dominant, redneck territory.

bisexual, she said. i never asked her, mostly just stalked her social media. because after finding that out, for some reason, i got nervous.

like i said, i'd grown up sheltered. in my mind, all that existed were gay, lesbian, and straight. that was it.

bisexuality...what was that?

big trouble, apparently.

all of a sudden, everything was starting to make sense. the special attention i paid to her, how much she occupied my mind, why i looked forward to the absolute worst class of the day just to spend time next to her.

i'm not proud of myself.

i panicked. i had a boyfriend, and i loved him. right? he was a football player with a spot on varsity, i was on the school dance team and attended every one of his games, we were 'the couple'.

but i remember how hollow i felt inside about it. i'd ignored it because i had no comparison.

but now i did, and i didn't know what to do.

our seats changed, and that, i figured, was that.

i didn't talk to her. i blocked her out without being too obvious, smiling if we made eye contact in the hallway and speeding up my steps to convince myself that the racing of my heart was caused from the exercise.

my heart didn't take it well.

i started pulling away from my boyfriend, however unintentionally. i wanted him to understand, to know what i was feeling, to help me. i even tried telling him i was bisexual, however tentatively. i was trying it on for size, so to speak.

he took it in stride, and just as i was relaxing, asked if that meant we could have threesomes.

confused, scared, i just laughed it off.

after i'd said it out loud, i figured that as long as i knew what it was, i could allow myself to appreciate her from a distance. after all, it happens, right?

people get massive, confusing, even terrifying crushes all the time. i wasn't special. i just had a boyfriend.

but then i didn't.

a week before our first year, he finally deemed to tell me that he didn't love me anymore.

i wasn't okay.

a month or so after, i decided, "hey, fuck being sad. i'm gonna look hot as hell and make him miss what he doesn't have anymore."

not a bad idea, mostly just bad timing.

i'd never been sexually assualted in my life. never thought about it, considered how much it would ruin how i thought of myself.

ironically, i remember almost laughing as i realized that while i had been seeking attention when i got dressed that morning, and i'd certainly gotten it, it had been from the wrong person.

i couldn't get the words to leave my throat to tell anyone.

i had no excuse not to go to school. not one i could say.

for why i hurt so badly the next morning. for why that new outfit that i'd gotten in San Antonio was now buried in the bottom drawer in my dresser and would remain there for years.

for why i wanted to wither away.

so i went to school.

i remember nothing of that day, save for small moments. it passed by in a blur, and i couldn't have cared less for what i was surely missing in my classes. i might as well have stayed home, for all the work i was getting done.

then came chemistry.

every six weeks or so, our seats were changed. just so happened, i was sitting next to this girl again. initially, it had excited me even as i'd wanted to run away from her, from what she made me feel.

that day, i couldn't have cared less.

i went in and sat down, couldn't make my mind focus on a damn thing, didn't even bother to pretend to be paying attention. i don't remember anyone giving me a second thought, which just goes to show how much people really don't give a shit, i guess.

the bell rang, and that was it. time for another class.

i got up, but something fell to the floor as i dragged my arms across the table from where i'd had my head buried in them.

bending down to pick it up, i realized it was a note.

a corner from a piece of notebook paper, hastily folded in half and most likely tucked beneath my left elbow.

i think i looked up to see if she was still there, a spark of hope in my chest dying as quickly as it formed when i saw the way she was hurrying to edge out the door.

mildly disappointed but shrugging it off because, hey, i shouldn't care, and i didn't. i didn't.

i didn't.

i just grabbed my stuff and left the room, headed for my next class which happened to be english. i'd been dreading that class, because my teacher was prone to noticing if something was wrong with me and made a point to ask me what was wrong. i didn't know what i was going to tell her.

on the way, i opened the note after debating whether or not i should. i had no idea what it could be; we didn't exactly talk that much anymore.

the words made me stop dead in the middle of the hallway, unable to force my feet another step.

there, scrawled in her messy writing, were the words

"i know you're not okay, and it's okay to not be okay.

keep your head up, princess. your tiara is falling."

something i could have read off of tumblr and not given a shit about. it honestly made me think of those 'justgirlythings' posts. which i thought were ridiculously pointless and stupid.

it almost pissed me off, like, what the fuck? what does that even mean? i was perfectly fine, who was she to say that i wasn't?

it was cheesy as hell.

i just stood there rereading this stupid note in a quickly diminishing crowd, ignoring people's ugly looks tossed my way as i dared to stand in their way and make them walk around me. it wasn't until something dropped onto the paper that i jolted back into awareness and watched in almost morbid fascination as my tear made the ink from her words bleed along the page, like some kind of poison spreading through veins.

the parallels were bittersweet.

sound slowly returned to me, and i realized someone was calling my name. i looked up to see my english teacher looking at me with concern, and i must've been a sight; tears running in a free fall down my face, dark and baggy clothes that i'd clearly slept in, hair a mess from yanking at it in some kind of sick self-punishment.

i left.

went straight to a bathroom and cried until i made myself sick, my eyes so raw i was almost afraid they'd bleed, if that really happened or if it was just in the movies, my hands just clutching this stupid fucking note that didn't even make sense to me.

who was she to tell me i wasn't okay? to accept me that i wasn't, like there was anything about me to even fucking accept. i was just fine.

so who was she?

i ended up going home, telling my parents everything.

i never really got to properly thank her for it, not really. i'm not sure how well i could actually express it. but i tried.

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tinuviel-undomiel · 8 years ago

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Only A Rose Chapter 23: To Right a Wrong

I DID IT!!!! It’s finally here! So sorry this took so long guys, but here is the long awaited chapter to Only a Rose. I hope everyone likes it.

Also found on ff.net.

There were only three days out of the year where Rumplestiltskin was closed to visitors. The first was Bae’s birthday. On those days he always found a little gift for his missing son and lit candles in the hope that he would one day find him.

The second was the day he lost his son. On that day he shut himself away, tormenting himself with all of the memories he had of his precious buy, cursing himself for his failings as a father.

The third was the day he lost Belle.

Normally he would spend this day alone, lost in memories of their brief time together. Today he would share it with someone else, the small part of Belle that still lived.

The shop was closed, but he and Rose were still in there while he opened his safe to get out his most precious belongings. Ever since their run in with Keith, Gold’s relationship with Rose had changed for the better. His daughter had finally learned to trust him. She still enjoyed making mischief, such as sneaking into the kitchen and playing with an entire box of cereal on the floor, but she also liked to cuddle with him on the couch while she drank her nightly cup of warm milk. It felt right being a father again. He’d always wanted more children, but Milah had never been interested when he returned disgraced from the war. He had thought his chances of a larger family were over, crushed even more when Cora had betrayed him. It was wonderful having Rose, only Bae and Belle were missing to make it perfect.

Gold opened up his safe and removed the cup from its hiding spot. Rose was in her little playpen, toying with a book that had buttons and sang songs. “Come here, my darling,” he said, scooping her up with his good arm and sitting down on the cot.

“Cup,” Rose said, reaching for the teacup with her tiny hands.

“Yes, this was your mother’s, remember how I told you the story?” Rose didn’t respond, just reached for the cup again, toying with the handle. “I wanted to share this with today. I’ll never forgive my self for what happened, but at least now I know one wonderful thing did come from my wretchedness on this day.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of his daughter’s head. “I know you don’t really understand, but, I promise, one day you will. I won’t let you forget your mother, I swear to that.”

Gold put the cup away to keep it from harm. They would return home and he would prepare all of Belle’s favorite foods for the two of them to enjoy, particularly the chocolate cake Belle had savored with relish. Once he’d realized how much she had loved the dessert, he’d instructed to the castle to serve it whenever she wished.

He just wanted to spend the day with Rose, telling her stories about her darling mother, and trying to ignore the ache in his chest that blooms with guilt from all that he had lost because of his selfishness.

Rose had taken a brief nap in the car ride home, but made no complaint when he removed her from her car seat. If anything, the rest had energized her. It could be a long day for him, but he was glad she was up and ready to action. She would be a welcome distraction for this day.

Gold unlocked his front door and stepped inside with Rose in his arms. It may have been Rose’s little babblings that sounded like “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star” or maybe just his own brooding about his lost love, but he failed to notice that there was an intruder in the house.

“Good evening,” a deep voice called out, giving Gold an uncommon feeling of surprise…and fear.

The latter dissipated quickly once he recognized who their visitor was. “What are you doing here, Jefferson?”

The younger man was leaning back on the sofa, one arm sprawled on the back rest, his legs stretched before him on the floor, crossed at the ankle. In his other hand he had a glass of scotch on the rocks. “This is very good, far better than the stuff Regina has.”

“You’ve seen our mayor?”

“Not recently, but I sometimes steal a bottle from her office. She wasn’t decent enough to leave me a stocked bar in my home.”

“How deplorable,” Gold said. He set Rose down, finding her a game on an educational tablet that would hold her attention. “I’ll ask again, what are you doing here?”

“Can’t an old friend just drop in?”

“Not after three decades.”

Jefferson took a heavy swallow of his drink. “I’m glad you aren’t pretending that you’re still under the curse. How are you awake, by the way?”

Gold smirked. “That’s my little secret.”

“You do have quite a few of those,” Jefferson said idly, his gaze switching to Rose. His cheeky grin fell away, replaced by a far more painful expression. “You’re lucky, Rumple. You have your daughter.”

“I know I am,” he admitted. Gold wanted to say how sorry he was, but he’d always hated it when people had said that to him. Such meaningless words in these circumstances, usually the sentiments behind them a thin veil that melted away once the speaker was gone. Just those four words were enough for Jefferson to know he understood his pain.

“I want Emma to break the curse,” Jefferson said, “I want my daughter back.”

“I know you do, but it is out of my hands. There is nothing I can do.”

“Nothing?” Jefferson asked.

Gold shook his head. “No. It is in Emma’s hands now.”

“But Grace…”

“I can’t do anything about that, Jefferson,” Gold told him, “As small comfort as it is, at least you know she is well cared for.”

“But I'm here father.”

“I know that, believe me, I understand more than anyone how you feel, but Regina is the one who cast the curse and Emma is the one who can break it. I may have created it, but it is not in my control.”

“What if you told Emma the truth?” Jefferson asked him.

“Didn’t you already do that?” Gold reminded him, “She won’t believe me or anyone, this is something she must find for herself.”

Gold looked over at Rose who was still playing with her game. “And while we are hovering over the past, if you did anything to my daughter while you foolishly abducted Emma, I’ll make sure to pay you back in kind.”

“She was fine, Emma will assure you of that if you ask her,” Jefferson said. The younger man’s eyes were pinned on Rose. Before he had looked at her with envy, longing for the return of his own daughter. But now…this was different. Something else was gnawing at his side.

“Jefferson,” Gold said, “I know that look. What did you do?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Don’t play the fool, I know you feel guilty over something. Did you do anything to Rose?”

“No, I swear on my daughter’s life,” Jefferson said, “I never harmed her. She was well treated. I even let her sleep on my cashmere sweater.”

Gold sat back in his chair, satisfied that the man was being truthful. “Be patient,” he instructed him instead, “The curse will break soon. You and I can already see it happening all around us.”

“Perhaps,” Jefferson said, taking a final swallow from his glass, “But patience was always your strong suit, not mine.”

He put the empty class on the coffee table, directly next to the coaster. “I suppose there is no point in my being here. I’ll go.”

Gold didn’t invite him to stay. This was supposed to be his private day, with only Rose as his company. Jefferson stood up, but he still looked over at the toddler, happily playing and repeating what the game instructed.

“Mama,” the game said in its mechanical voice.

“Mama,” Rose repeated.

Jefferson shut his eyes and turned away. Gold could only watch him retreat, puzzled at what had just occurred. Jefferson had always been an eccentric man and his separation from his child had certainly scarred him, but this was more than the just the pain of losing a child. He was burned by something else. The sight of Rose pained him. It could be just because she reminded him of Grace, since Gold didn’t know the girl he couldn’t say that was wrong. But still…it was all very strange indeed.

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As far as Henry was concerned, Operation Cobra was the most important goal in his life. However, according to Emma and Mary Margaret, passing his math class was supposed to be his main focus. So he’d taken home two D’s and F on his last assignments. His teachers would thank him once they were free of the curse. Who needed math anyway when happiness of everyone in the town was at stake?

Still, his mom had been told and she’d forced him to finish all of his homework before she’d let him buy any more comic books, they were his only excuse in order to see Emma. He had no choice but to sacrifice his time to numbers.

The only added benefit to his sentence was he was able to spy more on his mom. She was up to something; he could feel it. She had that look in her eye, that steely, I’m-going-to-get-what-I-want-when-I-want-it look. He was certain it was the same look she had in her eyes as she created the Dark Curse, though he couldn’t say for sure since he hadn’t been there. What he was certain of was that what ever she had planned was not good.

She had left for some “town business”, forbidding him to leave the house. Henry didn’t care about his homework though. Instead, he snuck into her study. He wasn’t sure how much she kept here or at her office in the city hall, but it never hurt to look.

Henry started at her desk, a little unnerved at the picture of him on it. He supposed he knew she did care about him, just like he did her, but at the same time there was still something keeping her from truly loving him. Maybe it was the Curse. Sometimes he wasn’t sure if this was so much about saving everyone in the town, or maybe just seeing if his mother could actually love him, both of them.

He set back to his task at trying to figure out what she is up to. What truly surprised him was all the boring legal stuff she had. He had no idea being mayor in a cursed town had so much paperwork. He sort of figure that since she was queen and all, she just had to wave a hand and get everything she wanted. Had the Curse done this too?

There was one drawer that was locked, but Henry had always been observant. He knew she kept some keys hidden inside the apple on the mantle. He’d been six when he saw her pick up the apple, slide open the false bottom, and pull out her keys then after he’d taken her other set and flushed them down the toilet in an attempt to get her undivided attention. He was glad now that the memory had stayed with him.

It was the third key that finally opened the drawer. Inside was a bunch more papers, including ones that legalized his adoption. However, on top of it all was something he was not expecting to see: a gleaming silver gun.

Henry stared at it for a long time. He’d never seen his mother with a gun before. He’d been in her office before and never found this before. Was it hers? Why did she need it? Worse, what did she intend to do with it?

The sound of the car pulling into the driveway grabbed his attention. Henry quickly slammed the drawer close, zipped out of the office, hastily put the keys back in the apple, then flopped down breathlessly on the couch and picked up his textbook, righting it when he realized it was upside down.

Regina walked back into the room; her dark eyes alight with suspicion. “Hi, Mom,” he said, hoping nothing showed on his face.

“Have you been doing your homework?”

“Yes,” he said.

“You better be telling me the truth, Henry Mills.”

“I am.”

“Good. If you pass your next test, I’ll make your favorite dessert.” Henry nodded at that. He saw he turn towards her office, so he gently shut her book. “Uh, mom?”

“Yes?” she asked.

“It’s Saturday tomorrow.”

“I know.”

“I was wondering…could I go to work with you?”

Regina frowned, blinking several times at him. “What? Why would you want to do that?”

“Well, you’ve been busy and…I miss you.” It wasn’t a total lie. Sometimes he really did miss her, or at least missed the warmth a real mother should have.

“What about Emma?”

“She…she’s too busy for me now,” Henry fibbed, “I thought maybe…you would want to spend some time with me?”

Her features softened away and that smile curved her red lips again. “Of course I do,” she said. Regina’s heel’s clicked against the hardwood as she walked over and bent down to kiss the top of his head. “You and I can make a day of it tomorrow,” she said, “Now keep working on your homework. I’ll tell you when dinner is ready.”

Henry couldn’t believe that it worked. He looked back at his textbook, but saw nothing on its pages. Right now his entire focus was on Operation Cobra. He had to find out what his mother was up to and stop her before she made everything in this town worse. Maybe he’d finds something at her office in city hall. At the very least, if she was with him, she couldn’t do anything. Hopefully, he could keep her occupied until he figured it all out. The Evil Queen wasn’t the only one with secrets.

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A fender bender on East Main Street had been the major disruption of Storybrooke for the day. Leroy had backed into Ms. Ginger’s car. He had maintained that she moved into the way after he was backing up. Ms. Ginger insisted Leroy was a moron and hadn’t seen her as she was driving. It had been an incredibly long and loud affair that led to Ms. Ginger threatening to file a report against Leroy. Emma had managed to talk the woman out of it, for now at least. Now she had a monster headache that only a shot of tequila could cure.

Mary Margaret was making cookies again. She’d done that a lot ever since her break up with David, like sweets would somehow make up for any heartbreak. You could put chocolate chips on the hurt, but the wound would continue to fester no matter what. Emma knew that that hard way.

“Hey, you want some?” Mary Margaret asked, “They’re double chocolate chip.”

Emma gladly took a cookie, smiling over a mouthful of chocolate when she saw her roommate already had hot cocoa on the stove. “Are you going for chocolate therapy?”

“Well it’s not like I’m dating anyone,” she said with just a touch of bitterness.

“Guess we both can use some chocolate therapy then,” Emma said.

Mary Margaret poured some of the hot cocoa into the largest mugs they had and sprinkled a generous amount of cinnamon on top. Emma skimmed the channels until she found some trashy movie that they could laugh over. “So, how was your day?” Mary Margaret asked.

“Oh drama on Main,” Emma said.

“Yeah, I heard something about Leroy trying to run Ms. Ginger over.”

“What?” Emma gasped, “It was just a fender bender. How did people start thinking that happen?”

Mary Margaret shrugged. “It’s a small town, we need excitement. Ever since the custody trial wrapped up, people have been bored, I guess.”

“Boy won’t they be surprised when they realize I'm not arresting Leroy for vehicular homicide.”

Mary Margaret snorted over her mug while Emma smiled and took another cookie. They watched the show for a little while, but it was terribly predictable, all romance and butterflies and nothing true to the real life of women.

“So what about the investigation?” Mary Margaret asked once they both realized the movie was crap.

“On Leroy? He needs to look before he backs out.”

“No, I mean on Alayna.”

Emma chewed over a cookie, swallowing it down hard. “I don’t know what else to do with that. I’ve sent her picture through every database I can think of. She’s not a Jane Doe; there is no open case for her anywhere. There are no credit card purchases. No one has tried to use her social security number or anything. It’s like she’s vanished completely.”

“Emma, you know that’s impossible.”

“I can’t find her, Mary Margaret,” Emma said with a sad shake of her head. “No one has any idea what happened to her. I’ve questioned everyone in this town that knew her, everyone that mentioned…” she stopped suddenly.

Memory caught up to her, one she’d tried to push aside: the creepy man with the wicked scar on his neck, the one who had held them hostage and tried to make her make some magic top hat. What was his name? Hamilton? Washington? Jefferson!

Mary Margaret smiled over her mug. “You’ve got an idea,” she said.

“Maybe,” Emma said, “I doubt it will lead to anywhere.”

“Maybe, but you said that before when you were trying to find Rose’s father and look how that turned out.”

“Yeah, but I highly doubt Alayna is hiding under my nose,” Emma said with a laugh. She took another cookie and mulled over this possibility. One thing was for sure; she wasn’t drinking any tea from him.

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The screech of a bizarre song about Christmas trees bled through Gold’s brain as he tried desperately to read the book in his hand, praying the words on the page would keep that insipid song from getting stuck in his head. The television was never something he had cared for before, though it had proved useful to keeping Rose entertained. However, there was one cartoon with some odd little bald child that she had become particularly attached to. “Ca-yoo!” she’d said when he appeared in all his round glory, “Ca-yoo!”

The ringing of a phone was a relief as the book was not working. For once, he cheerful picked up the phone and answered. It was that idiot dwarf, Walter. Apparently his brother had flooded their apartment trying to give some blasted stray dog a bath.

“Well, I suppose that is the end of your security deposit,” Gold said.

“Please, Mr. Gold. It was an accident.”

“You are in charge of your brother’s welfare, are you not?”

“Of course I am.”

“Well then, you should be in charge of making sure these accidents don’t happen.”

“Mr. Gold, you don’t understand.”

“Your brother is much like a child, yes?” Gold asked him.

“In some ways.”

“Well, I have a child, and yet I am perfectly capable of keeping her from having any accidents.”

CRASH!

Gold started from the couch in an instant, his eyes flickering to the carpet where Rose was supposed to be. Unfortunately, his daughter had vanished. The screaming alerted him just to where she was.

“What was that?” he heard Walter ask, sounding a bit smug, “Did Rose have an accident?”

“I’ll call you back,” Gold snapped, turning off the phone and tossing it down onto the couch.

Rose was sobbing in the front entrance. The bald boy must have gotten boring or moved to something else, so she’d gone exploring. It appeared she was trying to get to the vase of flowers he kept on the table there. She’d used the drawer to try and reach it, but instead had pulled the drawer out, spilling its contents everywhere. The motion had also knocked over the vase, sending broken glass and crushed flowers into the mess.

He quickly scooped up Rose, carefully checking her for any injuries. Blessedly she wasn’t hurt, so she likely was only frightened and perhaps worried about getting into trouble. Hopefully when she was older she wouldn’t realize how tightly she had him wrapped around her little finger.

Gold held his daughter close, whispering into her ear and even getting her a cookie from the kitchen to settle her. He put her in a playpen, silently praying she wasn’t clever enough to get out of there yet. He muttered to himself while getting the broom and mop that he’d had to rethink Walter’s security deposit after this. He may be a trickster, but he was also aware when he’d been played. Walter would have Rose to thank for this.

The drawer had most held extra keys and other odds and ends, but there was one odd thing about it. The drawer was heavy, weighted down by the gun he kept hidden in there. How could one toddler open a drawer like that?

A quick survey of the hall showed no sign of the gun, so he dug deeper. He looked to see if it could have hidden behind any of the potted plants or the umbrella holder, but to no avail. He looked inside of the table, but it was not there either. He knew Rose didn’t have it, thank the gods for that, but it clearly was no longer there.

Two thoughts entered his mind, but Gold knew better than to make blind accusations. First he would settle the first, more preferable possibility, though he already had an inkling as to just who had been in his house without his permission.

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It was 3:27 in the afternoon that meant that Grace would be getting out of school in roughly three minutes. Jefferson was glued to his telescope with his eye on when those double doors would open. Seeing her at this distance was miserable, but far better than being stuck in Wonderland, he’d give Regina that much credit.

The doors burst open and dozens and dozens of kids spilled out. Some headed for their bikes or down the street, many made a beeline for the candy store. He recognized the purple backpack, carefully following Grace with the telescope. The only thing that grated on his nerves was the name Paige printed in pink letters on the backpack. Grace, her name was Grace. One day she would remember that…and him. Hopefully she would forgive him too.

His cellphone rang from his pocket, a rather peculiar thing as it hardly ever rang at all. He continued to track Grace while he pushed the talk button. “Hello?”

“Jefferson,” Rumplestiltskin answered in greeting, “When you broke into my home the other day, did you take anything with you?”

“Yes,” he admitted, “You have good scotch and I figured I needed the bottle more than you did.”

“Forget the scotch,” Rumplestiltskin said, “My gun is missing.”

“Your gun?”

“Yes, did you take it?”

“What on earth would I do with a gun?” Jefferson asked.

“Considering you kidnapped my daughter, the sheriff, and an escaped convict in the not too distant past, quite a lot.”

Jefferson shook his head with one eye still buried in his telescope. “Exactly how long are you going to carry that grudge?”

“I have infinite patience.”

“I suppose you would with as old as you are.”

“I take it you don’t have it.””

“No.”

Grace had made it into her home right now, giving her fake mother a kiss. Jefferson squeezed his eyes shut, trying to quell the pain in his heart.

“Damn,” Rumple said, “I would have preferred a mad man like you had it than the alternative.”

“Regina,” Jefferson guessed, “What would she want with your gun?”

“I don’t know, but I have no doubt it won’t be something I would enjoy.”

That was a certainty. Regina had plotted the entire custody war in a bid to hurt Gold by forcing Moe and Rose to be killed by crossing the town line. A cold feeling trickled down his spine and his intestines tied into a knot.

“Do—do you have any idea what she’s up to?” Jefferson asked.

“No, but I doubt she is clever enough to hide it from me.” In the background he heard a crashing noise followed by ear shattering screech of a toddler, one Jefferson remembered from Grace was the sound of a desperate attempt to get out of trouble for being naughty.

“I have to go, good bye,” Gold quickly hung up. The reminder of Rose did not help the guilt now threatening to choke the air from Jefferson’s lungs.

He’d seen Regina go to the hospital the other day which could only mean she was visiting her prisoner since he knew she didn’t give a damn about Sidney. With the missing gun, and his own intuition regarding Regina’s desire for petty vengeance, the math added up to a very frightening number.

But what could he do? He had no skill at magic and he didn’t want to jeopardize any chance he had at getting Grace back. Not to mention he likely would lose his head for good if Rumplestiltskin found out he had played a rather sizeable role in why Rose grew up without her mother. At the same time, he could not let Regina do this. He’d spent many sleepless nights hating himself before, he would never be able to look his daughter in the eye again if he allowed an innocent woman to be murdered.

Jefferson returned to his telescope, quickly scanning for Regina. She wasn’t at her office, which was a bit of a surprise, nor was she in the mausoleum. In took some careful looking before he found her at the beach with Henry. It was a sunny day, though still cool enough to where they wouldn’t want to get into the water. A little odd that Henry was with Regina when the boy had been spending most of his spare time with Emma of late. What was their sheriff up to anyways?

He looked around again for that yellow Volkswagen, seeing it on the winding road headed towards his home. Jefferson smiled, a weight falling from his shoulders. This was his chance to right a wrong. He may have lost his mind in Wonderland, but he wasn’t crazy enough to pass this up.

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Emma had thought about going back to the crazy hat man’s house before, but in the end had decided it would be fruitless. She couldn’t disclose what he had done without revealing Mary Margaret’s prison break, so she’d had no choice but to just let it go. Besides, she didn’t really care to know what had happened to the insane guy who ran around with a top hat and scissors.

Still, if he wasn’t afraid to abduct a runaway schoolteacher, the town sheriff, and a toddler with a severe addiction to apple juice, then it wasn’t a big leap to think he might have done something with Alayna French.

Emma parked outside of his house by positioning her car towards the exit in case she had to get out fast. Her gun was loaded and holstered. This time she would know better than to take any tea from him.

She tried the door, expecting it to be locked, but it swung right open like an invitation for her exploration. Damn, did that mean he knew she was here? Emma took out her gun and carefully pushed her way inside.

“Hello?” she called out, but her footsteps were the only sound. The house was completely still. She found the living area where he had drugged her before, but it was empty. The tea service was still sitting on the table. Had he been enjoying tea again or had he just left it there from their previous encounter?

She made her way upstairs slowly, checking each room for the owner. Either he was epic at “hide and seek” or he wasn’t home. Maybe he’d finally made his way back to Wonderland.

She found the weird craft room again with all of the hats on the wall. Emma finally saw the first proof that the guy had been back at some point because the makeshift pen he’d made for Rose was gone. The telescope was situated by the window still, but what truly stood out was the origami rose sitting on top of it.

Emma looked over she shoulder once before she slipped the gun back into her holster. She gingerly unfolded the rose, her hunch proving right. Beautiful calligraphy was scrawled onto the page.

“Little princess, what you seek is closer than you think.

Look closer and you will see the plot of the Evil Queen.”

“What the hell is this?” Emma mused, reading the odd little poem again. Look closer at what? And the Evil Queen nonsense again? Seriously? This guy was just a nut job….but a nut job that seemed to know quite a lot.

The rose. The not was folded into a rose. He knew what she was doing. He had said he owed Rose a debt. Could this mad man actually be trying to help her?

Emma read the note for a third time. “Look closer,” she said. The note was on the telescope. Could it be that simple?

She dipped her head down into the eyepiece and saw a crystal clear image of the hospital. That didn’t tell her much. But he told her to look closer, so she adjusted the image; careful not to deviate from the spot he had chosen for her. She upped the magnification then adjusted the image so it was clear. She was now looking into hospital, past the x-ray lab. She could see another door with a keypad next to it. Oddly enough, the door wasn’t marked as a part of the lab, but just then the door opened and a nurse with some weird scary hairstyle walked out. Clearly it was something, and with the keypad access was for the few.

“This is stupid,” she said. She was following the clues set up by a guy who lived in Alice in Wonderland. None of this made any sense.

Then again, she’d been saying that ever since she came to Storybrooke.

She called herself every name in the book as she drove her way down to the hospital. Once, she got there, she had a nurse page Dr. Whale. Emma stayed by the mysterious door, feeling around it for any way to get in or a clue as to what it is. It was obviously past a late lunch time because when Whale arrived he was furiously trying to scrub some ketchup out of the collar of his white lab coat with a napkin.

“Sheriff Swan, what can I do for you?”

“I…” damn how to word this? “I got a tip that maybe someone who is missing is actually here in the hospital.”

“Oh well, I don’t recall anyone missing currently,” Whale said.

“She’s been missing for years,” Emma said.

“I don’t see how the hospital could be hiding her then, whoever she is.”

The nurse with the odd hair brushed past Whale without a word, punched in a few numbers on the keypad. The door opened and she breezed right in.

“What’s that?” Emma asked.

“That’s the psychiatric wing.”

“Storybrooke has a psychiatric wing?” Emma questioned.

“Yes, though currently Sidney Glass is the only patient.” That surprised her. She thought perhaps half of the town needed to be in there.

“Can I see him?” Emma asked.

Whale arched one brow at her in surprise. “You want to see Mr. Glass?”

“Yeah, I’ve got some questions for him.”

Whale shrugged his shoulders and then led her to the door. He punched in the numbers and the door swung open. The creepy nurse was situated at a desk, jotting something down. She stood up when Whale and Emma walked towards her. “Dr. Whale,” the nurse said, “Is something wrong?”

“No, Nurse Matilda,” Whale said, “Sheriff Swan just wanted to see Sidney for a few moments.”

“All right, should I bring him upstairs?” The nurse’s eyes darted to the door that must lead to the wing. Emma narrowed her eyes, trying to bite back the question over what she was so nervous about. She had learned to let the pressure build before jumping in.

“No,” Whale said, “We won’t be too long.” He held the door open for Emma and ushered her inside. “Sidney is in the third room down.”

There was someone mopping up the floor with long black hair and a very unsettling gaze. He said not a word as they walked by him. Emma could see a laundry hamper situated in front of Sidney’s room. Whale fumbled around for his keys, muttering about how they needed to update the lock system down here. Emma stared into the basket, rummaging around. There were two shirts and two pants in the basket, both the same pale blue like patient garb usually was. She picked up both shirts, looking at them both carefully. “Whale, you said Sidney was the only patient here?”

“Yes.”

“Then why does this basket have shirts that are two different sizes?”

Whale frowned, taking a hold of one of the shirts she had in her hands. “Huh, one of the staff must be mixing in their laundry. I’ll be sure to have a talk with them about this.”

It was a valid reason, but Emma wasn’t convinced. However, she heard a sneeze coming from one of the rooms…the one next to Sidney’s. “What was that?” she asked Whale.

“I honestly I have no idea,” he said, looking as suspicious as she was.

Emma left him staring at the door and walked over to it. There was a little slot in the door, almost like one in an apartment for mail, though she doubted any Christmas cards made its way down here. She lifted open the slot, blinking at the light streaming through the barred windows. Sitting on a thin cot was a young woman with lanky hair and pale skin. She looked back at the intruder with a puzzled expression in her clear blue eyes.

Emma gasped, leaping back with her heart hammering in her chest. “Open this door,” she demanded.

“What?” Whale asked. He looked into the slot himself, rearing back at what he saw. “Oh my God!”

“Open the door, Whale!”

His hands were shaking as he found the right key and fit it into the lock. The lock turned with a loud click and Emma shoved the door away.

The woman inside drew her knees up to her chest, peeking out from them with wide blue eyes. The face was thinner, paler, and the hair needed a brush and good shampoo, but there was no mistaking those eyes.

“Alayna,” Emma gasped out her name.

Alayna French blinked at Emma, lifting her chin just a little. “Who are you?”

“I’m Emma Swan. I’ve been looking for you.”

“You have?”

“Yes, now let’s get you out of here.” Emma looked over at Whale, “I’m not letting her stay here.”

“Of course not,” Whale said, his mouth still open in shock.

“Wait,” Alayna said in so quiet a voice it was almost a whisper. “You called me Alayna.”

“Yeah?”

“So you know who I am?” she asked.

A cold feeling prickled down Emma’s spine. “What do you mean?”

Alayna stared at her again, still clutching her knees to her chest. “My name. Is that my name? No one has ever told me.”

“You—you don’t remember your name?” Emma asked. “What do you remember?”

Alayna looked up again this time with liquid eyes. “Nothing.

#only a rose #rumbelle #rumbelle fic #tinny writes fics

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sapphired17 · 6 years ago

Text

It was 2 AM early at dawn when I finished watching the last episode of At Eighteen drama. Beautifully-painted in a nonchalant but painful atmosphere, I laughed and cried with the characters that resonated pains through their eyes. My eyes, too, were swollen and red after having shed unbearable tears as I came near to the ending scene and listened to the heartbreaking monologue from the main leads. Everything had been melodramatically irresistible and I didn’t want it to end. At Eighteen was initially a mere web-drama I happened to come across when I was scrolling through iflix, but then it has become one of the lifetime dramas that I felt grateful for discovering.

AT EIGHTEEN / 열 여덟의 순간 (2019)

The struggles I have been facing at work are rough and exhausting. It might be that I am still starting to pave a way ahead for myself in the future that I need to deal with constant pressures and anxiety, but I thought it was too burdensome. I keep looking for light-hearted series that tug into my heartstrings to relieve my stress. At the very least, those series help me momentarily erase the bad memories I have experienced in real life. It might sound cliche to people who are not so fond of watching dramas, but for melancholic introverts like me, the existence of dramas feel like sugar sprinkled on top of my dessertㅡit temporarily sugarcoats the reality. And when I watched the first episode of At Eighteen, I know that I will love it. A lot.

INITIAL IMPRESSION

I was being too emotional on my writing above, but never mind (it’s already ten to three freakin’ AM in the morning and I haven’t slept at all just to write this piece since the feeling still lingers there). At Eighteen is a melodramatic web-drama that tells the life of South Korean high school students at the age of 18 and their relatable struggles in coping up with the hard times.

Choi Jun Woo (Ong Seung Woo) is a forced transfer student after a theft case in his previous high school. At first, he was very quiet and reserved and didn’t even try to acknowledge his existence. Jun Woo comes from a poor family with a single young mother that works very hard for the living. He also works part-time after school to earn more money, so I can somehow grasp the situation that leads to his overly-passive manner when he first transferred. Nonetheless, Jun Woo is originally very kind and caring. He isn’t embarrassed of his current circumstances, but working very hard to do well on his own. These qualities shine a lot especially when he is around his mother.

I have never heard of Ong Seung Woo before since I didn’t know much about Wanna One, but he surely is indeed alluring with his handsome face and good acting. Jun Woo feels real to me in each episode, so albeit I don’t have a high standard in defining a good actor, I believe that he was doing a great job there.

Yoo Soo Bin (Kim Hyang Gi) is just like your ordinary pretty classmate that hangs out with everyone. She is outgoing and bright, but not stupid or overly clumsy like the majority of the heroine in Kdramaland. Her mother is a Seoul University graduate who sets the bar very high, sometimes too high for her to handle. Nonetheless, Soo Bin is both a good student and a good daughter that doesn’t rebel despite the anger or sadness that she feels.

Kim Hyang Gi started off as a child actress, so I find her acting comforting. Not going overboard, but also not lacking in any aspect. It is adequate, and it is good enough to be enjoyed. And I didn’t think that she would become so pretty when she was a child actress, but it turned out that she really did.

Ma Hwi Young (Shin Seung Ho) is the typical smart role model student who also happens to be the class president. He is pretentious and cunning in front of everyone, but keeps doing evil things behind everyone’s back. Such a behavior is most probably nurtured as a result of the anger and burden at home with a dad that never thinks that he is good enough. He is bestfriends with Soo Bin ever since they were little, but now he thinks he likes her more than just a friend.

I also have never encountered Shin Seung Ho in any other drama, but I think that he is very talented in portraying Hwi Young and his multi-faceted expressions.

Oh Han Kyeol (Kang Ki Young) symbolizes a teacher who personally takes care of his students. He was the homeroom teacher’s temporary replacement, who then upgraded to the real homeroom teacher. At first, he grovels in front of the students out of anxiety and lack of self-esteem. This kind of struggle feels so relatable especially since I also used to be a teacher. Regardless, he stands strong in what he believes in and gains self-confidence by trusting his students, two of which makes him an amazing teacher.

Kang Ki Young is on dramas a lot as a side-but-important character so I don’t need to doubt his acting skills. He always delivers the scripts well, be it in comedic or melodramatic scene.

ALLURING STUFFS

The plotline is not slow-paced but the development doesn’t feel forced at all. I began watching with interest that grows into an anticipation. Every episode contains captivating charms and led with meaningful titles.

EP 2. I didn’t talk much about the first episode as it was merely the beginning and they were just starting off with introductions so that the viewers may get a grasp of the whole circumstances, and the second episode marks the arising conflicts.

Here the drama showcases Jun Woo’s genuine trait, which allows him to stay true to himself without being a jerk. [SPOILER ALERT] When Jun Woo was confronting Hwi Young after he was falsely-accused of stealing a teacher’s watch, I really thought that Jun Woo spoke up his mind so eloquently in a way that made people reflect on themselves. He saw Hwi Young take the watch with him and managed to retort Hwi Young’s accusing pretentious words. Another thing was when Teacher Oh ordered him to write an apology letter for stealing the watch. He insisted on his belief and put a drawing on the paper instead. When the watch somehow ended up inside his locker, Jun Woo told the teachers that he didn’t need forgiveness as he was not guilty of anything. [END OF SPOILERS] Jun Woo indeed takes his rebel on the next level, and I think it’s cool.

EP3. The way Jun Woo and Soo Bin got closer to each other feels natural and the drama did a great job in setting the right atmosphere between them. It warms me seeing how Soo Bin trying to help him and that she thinks that Jun Woo is a decent person at heart. They started meeting more often to discuss school assignments and texted each other with cute simple messages. Jun Woo feels like a little doggo that obeys his master a lot, sometimes by wiggling his tail to express happiness, and Soo Bin is just like a mom that wants the best for her kiddo. They talk about simple things without complications or mind games, which indeed draw them closer to each other.

EP4. I learned my new favorite pick-up phrases from Jun Woo when he was encouraging Shin Jung Hoo, his bestfriend since they were little.

“Our lives are not that messed up after all. No, who cares if we were born a bit miserably? We can just overcame it. Don’t you agree?” – Choi Jun Woo

EP5. [SPOILERS ALERT] Right after Soo Bin quit a tutor class that her mom tried so hard to admit her to, Soo Bin’s mom even did as far as barging into her classroom and scolding her at school. I could see Soo Bin’s frustration when she asked if her mom gave birth to her only to brag to other people. [END OF SPOILERS] She feels tormented and heartbroken that I keep reminding myself that becoming a parent requires a great sense of responsibility and maturity to take care of your children well, in a way that doesn’t inflict wounds on them.

EP7. Here is a cute picture since I always like the portrayal of a tall guy and a petite girl that showcases the height difference, which somehow I find heart-fluttering. [SPOILERS ALERT] When Soo Bin had a bad stomachache during the math test, Jun Woo took the first initiative to carry her to the infirmary despite not having finished the test himself. On top of that, he asked the teacher if it was possible for her to take the test there. [END OF SPOILERS] I am touched by his sincere affection and consideration towards her.

EP7. There is a saying that many adults wish to go back to their high school days, when the most difficult obstacle is only about solving math questions. [SPOILERS ALERT] After Hwi Young discovered that he failed a number in his math test, he became restless and devastated. Teacher Oh tried to comfort him that this is not supposed to be a life-changing matter. “You should know how to let things go for a change,” to which Hwi Young replied that Teacher Oh understood nothing since he wasn’t pressured to attend Seoul University like him. [END OF SPOILERS]

There is a clear line between adolescence and adulthood. As someone who has gone through school and university, now I certainly see high school problems as trivial things that are not worth getting stressed over. There are bigger problems in life that revolve around finance, relationships, marriages, and school grades are merely a tiny bit that own no power to define one’s life. However, students living in competitive situation like Hwi Young take everything seriously at school, starting from the grades even to the seating arrangement in the classroom. And that strengthens the notion that nobody is capable of judging anybody even after they try to put themselves in one’s shoes, because one pair of shoes may fit me but may be ill-fitted to you in terms of qualitative values such as comfort or feelings induced.

EP10. This is one of the most heartbreaking scenes throughout the series. It brought me tears and made me realize another thing. [SPOILERS ALERT] Hwi Young lied to Soo Bin that Jun Woo was just using her to get on him. It got Soo Bin so confused and slowly walked away from him out of fear. When they finally met and Soo Bin told him her confusion, Jun Woo painfully asked, “Do you believe it, more than you believe me?” [END OF SPOILERS] It hurts me so bad just like how Jun Woo was hurting, like what would hurt more than getting doubts from someone whom you trust?

That made sense to me that Jun Woo needed some time for himself to think about everything, knowing that Soo Bin would be waiting for him.

And there couldn’t be any greater happiness than two people who find themselves in each other’s embrace after going through storms together. Period.

EP11. Unlike Kang Ki Young’s usual roles in his previous dramas, Oh Han Kyeol is portrayed as a righteous and smart teacher that really longs for the best for his students. During the initial episodes, Oh Han Kyeol faltered a lot because he didn’t have much confidence in himself. However, I always admire his thoughtfulness for the students, unlike the previous homeroom teacher who received bribery in favor of some particular students.

In this episode, Oh Han Kyeol bravely confronted Hwi Young’s mom who was somehow trying to bribe him as well. He stood firm in his belief despite the risks he might be facing in the future. Such a fearless character isn’t just anywhere in this corrupted world.

EP12. Nobody is one hundred percent an angel, or one hundred percent a devil. [SPOILERS ALERT] When Hwi Young was falsely-accused of cheating or rigging his grades, he told Teacher Oh that he wasn’t behind it and faced his classmates and their skeptical suspicion about the truth. Later on Hwi Young spit out the disappointment towards his parents for committing such a crime. [END OF SPOILERS] After learning about Hwi Young’s behavior, I understand that deep down, he was just doing the best he could in order to please his parents. Kids like Hwi Young grow their evil deeds due to the constant pressures and inferiority resulted from the parents’ lack of acceptance. My heart hurts for kids who experience bad parental unacceptance like him.

EP15. This is another tear-jerking scene that sinks my heart so deeply it hurts. [SPOILER ALERTS] Since Soo Bin’s mom & Jun Woo’s mom have become friends, it feels heavier for Song Hee to tell Yeon Woo that she doesn’t want Soo Bin to have a boyfriend now. It breaks my heart that Yeon Woo talked about how she respected Jun Woo’s feelings and didn’t want to trample on his emotions. [END OF SPOILERS] It is well said indeed, that no mothers in the world will want their children to have it less.

STUFFS THAT IRKED ME

#1 Soo Bin’s overly aggressive mother

Being a single mother is surely one of the toughest jobs in the world, but being a mom that doesn’t trust her child and enforce her own goals without considering her kid’s perspective is surely much exhausting, isn’t it?

I myself grew up in a regular Asian family environment that thankfully, isn’t so strict with grades. My parents let me study on my own and choose my own future path, so the image of a parent making a very bug fuss over grades towards an already smart daughter is a bit uncalled of. I strongly detest how Soo Bin’s mom was trying to dictate Soo Bin’s life according to her own will. Nonetheless, this is quite a common sight in South Korean competitive society and I am not to judge it.

Thankfully, Soo Bin is a truly loyal girl to her mom and who, just like Jun Woo, expressed her kind of rebellious acts that didn’t lack respect towards her. She tries to be more mature and understanding, and I think it wouldn’t have been possible without her strong love and respect towards her mom.

#2 Hwi Young’s evil deeds

I don’t have words for Ma Hwi Young. I tried so much to understand him, but I couldn’t manage to tolerate his evil deeds. [SPOILERS ALERT] From stealing a watch and perfectly covering it up so Jun Woo was falsely-accused, to the hatred towards Jun Woo that somehow led to the death of Shin Jung Hoo, and even causing another misunderstanding between the newly-born couple Soo Bin and Jun Woo. [END OF SPOILERS] I could fathom that he probably turned into somebody he didn’t want to because of the constant parental pressures, but Hwi Young’s arrogance and pride also get on my nerves a lot of time.

Hwi Young’s sincere smile was revealed when he was around Soo Bin. That might probably because she has known him for long and he feels comfortable being around her. But I do believe that such a background story shouldn’t justify Hwi Young’s pestering towards Jun Woo out of jealousy.

#3 Possessive and self-centered Ro Mi

There is this girl who acts cocky and arrogant at school, pretending she doesn’t need friends at all. Then this is Hwang Ro Mi and her indescribably annoying behaviors towards almost everybody. [SPOILERS ALERT] I don’t exactly understand why she would feel overly jealous towards Soo Bin when she should actually be thankful that Soo Bin still asks her friends to hang out with Ro Mi albeit they don’t like her, but her aggravating move towards Jun Woo started from a simple thought, that Soo Bin should not have it all. It disturbed me that Ro Mi began the whole Jun Woo-likes-me scandal from her own delusion, which was then spread to the rest of the class, because then Soo Bin misunderstood and thought that he didn’t like her. [END OF SPOILERS] I despise misunderstanding so much as it generates groundless suspicions that shouldn’t have been there in the first place.

LOVELINES ALERT

Choi Jun Woo & Yoo Soo Bin

This is the kind of high school couple I am forever rooting for. They are mature enough in dealing with arising problems and both aren’t the type to hold prolonging grudges that destroy the relationship, sometimes too mature to me as well.

[SPOILERS ALERT]

After the whole unpleasant misunderstanding between the two, they had to be separated again since Soo Bin’s mom was strictly against their relationship. It took me by surprise seeing how the two managed to cheer each other to hang on even during the hardest times. Soo Bin didn’t rebel when she was told to cut off the ties with Jun Woo, not because she feared the threats, but because she didn’t want her mom to hate Jun Woo, thus completely vanish their relationship into thin air. Jun Woo kept his promise with Soo Bin’s mom in order for Soo Bin to be free. Both are being genuinely considerate towards each other, which wouldn’t have been within reach if either of them hadn’t sincerely been in love.

Their efforts didn’t go in vain as Soo Bin’s mom learned to be more trusting towards her own daughter. Whatever progress made between the two was all thanks to their patience and maturity in handling the matters. Soo Bin and Jun Woo focused on studying and upgrading themselves amidst the separation instead of whining about their problems and not doing anything. I’m proud of themㅡI will forever be rooting for them.

[END OF SPOILERS]

I love how the drama emphasizes the notion of endurance and patience in order to get to where one aspires to be. While it may not work out for everyone, I believe that confronting the situation harshly, or even with bursting anger, doesn’t make things better. Resentment and outrage drain your energy without ever resulting in anything positive. It might be because they are still at eighteen, but I also yearn to face life with such innocence and radiant passion.

Apart from the main loveline, I am not particularly interested in smaller lovelines like between Pil Sang & Ro Mi, or between Teacher Oh and the part-time noona. However, I kinda find Oh Je and Da Heen’s relationship somehow cute and adorable.

FINAL THOUGHTS

Let’s take a moment to appreciate the scriptwriter’s writing skills that put me in an awe. Everything was beautifully-written and the dialogues are heart-rending indeed. It taught me about appreciating life better.

“It must be so easy for you adults. Sometimes you tell us that we know nothing because we are too young, and that we should do nothing but study. But other times, you say that we’re all grown up now, we’re old enough to understand everything. You change your words whenever you want to suit your needs.”

Through Soo Bin’s lens of perspective, she insisted on showing her mature side since her parents expect her to do so. Watching shows like this makes me realize that human beings are indeed very selfish and complicated. Words are easily twisted without the consideration of other people. Why is it so easy for us to inflict wounds on others? Why do we allow our actions hurt people who are as fragile as us?

“Your child is not your property. “Study.”; “Get into a good university”; “Win by all means.”; “Hang out with this kid.”; “Don’t hang out with that kid.” You suffocate them and intrude into their lives. You even censor and judge their emotions. This place is not a prison. I’m not a prison guard. When are you going to stop telling me to monitor and control those kind-hearted and beautiful kids?”

I really want to direct this message to all parents around the world, who still believe that grades matter more than the happiness of the children. This statement might come off as too idealistic and less realistic, but I believe that everyone needs to hear this. I don’t want my future kid to give up on studying just because it’s pressuring, but I also don’t want him to lead a stressful life ever since he was a kid. As if adulthood is not devastating enough, do I need to let him live in misery without ever having made great childhood memories?

“If the skies look down on us, they will probably think we are so pitiful. Annoying each other all the time over our greed and hurting those who are precious to us. Let’s stop doing that!”

This is what Teacher Oh said after he saw the somber atmosphere in the classroom. It was unexpected and I was honestly touched. Do we spend too much time spouting nonsense on the media, while forgetting the beauty that transverses across the horizon?

The drama left a bittersweet feelings inside me, allows me to reflect on my life so that I may not spend another year with lingering regrets. Life is the greatest gift one can ever have, that is supposedly spent by cherishing one another and giving more love instead of hatred, encouraging more people instead of saying hurtful words, saying more positive words instead of negativity, and, most importantly, inspiring more people to live a better life instead of looking down on them. That way, the world may become more beautiful.

GRADE

10/10

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At Eighteen: A Review It was 2 AM early at dawn when I finished watching the last episode of At Eighteen drama.

#2019 #a moment at eighteen #at eighteen #christopher #jtbc #Kdrama #kdrama review #Kdramaland #kim hyang gi #korean drama #moment #ong seung woo #review #shin seung ho #webdrama

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