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🎈🍰Nace Birthday Special🍰🎈 ENG SUB: JokerOutSubs x RADIOaktivno collab: 'Demoni' Album Presentation

Audio + CC link: https://youtu.be/4plC7TteUGw

We are once again very happy to have been able to collaborate with Boštjan Najžar from RADIOaktivno podcast (Facebook, YouTube), with whom we already worked for 'Umazane misli' subtitles. He very kindly reuploaded the deleted Demoni album presentation video on YouTube and we were able to provide subtitles for it!

Below you can find the transcription of our translation of the interview, which originally aired on 23.11.2021, on Radio Prlek/RADIOAktivno YouTube channel.

Cr: Translation by drumbeat, @varianestoroff, and another member of JOS. Proof read by TWT klamstrakur, Anastasia and @flowerlotus8

Transcript 👇

Everyone: We are Joker Out.

Bojan: And you're listening to Radioaktivno.

Host: 'Katrina' by Joker Out, all the members are with me today on Radioaktivno. New member Nace, Kris, Jure, Bojan and Jan. Hi!

Nace: Hello!

Kris: Hi, greetings.

Jure: Hi, hi.

Bojan: Good morning.

Jan: Same… also from me.

Well, even though it's already evening, I see your days are short or they turn immediately into mornings.

Jan: Yes, we usually wake up at 8pm, and stay awake for two days, and then we go to sleep.

Isn't 8pm already the end of the day, or is that when the soundchecks are over?

Bojan: We basically call it vampire rotation. So… We skip the soundchecks and then, when we wake up, we get out of our coffins and go straight to the stage.

So you don't like the light?

Bojan: No, we're not really comfortable with light, yes. Sunglasses are mandatory.

Kris: That's why we live in Ljubljana, where it's never really bright anyway.

I disagree. I was looking at some photos today, and when the sun was out over there, here it was still foggy.

Kris: See, that is why we are here today.

Bojan: Well said.

'Katrina'

Jure, we started with 'Katrina', with the single that launched your new album.

Jure: Yes, it's true. 'Katrina' is the first single we released at the end of August, before the album was out. What can I say? We also made a video for it with Mark Pirc.

Bojan: Maybe the most energetic, or one of the more energetic songs on the album. It kinda feels like this album is maybe a bit calmer compared to the first one, or more oriented towards, how should I say, yes, frustrating, restless moments. So 'Katrina' is, and let's say, 'Ne bi smel', which we will hear later, kind of represent the high point in terms of rythm, we think.

Today we also have in our company a new band member, Nace. How did you integrate into the band after a few weeks?

Nace: I will say, musically, I never doubted it, but as mates, or, rather, band-mates, we've been slowly growing into a little family, I think. We've spent quite a bit of time together now, in the span of a month, and I have to say, they've grown on me so much, like, yes, a family, right?

Have you passed all the tests, taken all the exams?

Nace: I mean, I had the last one yesterday, but, I have to say, that I didn't quite get an A, right?

Kris: And what was that test?

Nace: Well, about the history of Joker Out.

Kris: Oh, yes.

Nace: So I learned something new as well alongside the mistakes, right? But I've still got time.

I see though you have integrated into the band well, you've already got your sunglasses on.

Nace: It was a must-have, right away, as Bojan called me at the time, he said, "Do you have (sun)glasses?" I said, "I do". And that was it and he said, "I think we've found the one."

Bojan, do you have difficult admissions exams, then?

Bojan: Well, I wouldn't say we have difficult admissions exams. Rather for the reason that there are practically no admissions exams, the same thing happened with Jure and Nace. Basically, when we kind of said, we want him, it was more based on this energy that they were radiating, not so much just on musicality, or whatever you want to call it. And in both cases we made the right decision. Now, I believe that we are done deciding.

The next one will be 'Ne bi smel'.

'Ne bi smel'

Jan: Yes, 'Ne bi smel' is a song that we "should have" written, and it's actually, along with 'Katrina', quite a bit, it's the second most most energetic one. I think we had, I mean that Bojan, had maybe the most trouble with the writing of its lyrics, but…

Bojan: The most and the least trouble simultaneously.

Jan: Yes.

Jure: But I think the least work we had was with the instrumental, it got put together really quickly.

Bojan: This song is, well, good thing Jan took the microphone, because I wrote the lyrics for 'Ne bi smel' practically as they are today, crossed them out completely and Jan came into the rehersal space very upset and said to me, that I had to go back to the old lyrics, and I'm really…

Jan: You shouldn't have changed it.

Bojan: Yes, but I didn't know how else to…. So, yes, well, that song was just a big frustration for me, actually, because I've changed the lyrics so many times and ended up going back to the first version. But yes, enjoy.

'Ne bi smel' and Joker Out with their album 'Demoni' on Radioaktivno. Fresh from 'Umazane misli', you've released a new album.

Bojan: Yes, our ghostwriter was really diligent, so we were able to get the new material out very quickly. No, actually, we can't believe it ourselves how quickly the second album came to be. Especially because the first album was quite a torturous process, at least in the finishing touches, when it came to mixing, and we all thought that we got tired of making music and that there wouldn't be an album at least for a while. Then we really reached a moment when…

Jure: You know what happened? We set up the rehersal space.

Bojan: Yes.

Jure: And we announced Križanke, and then we were like, "Okay, now what? Maybe we need to go to Križanke…" Yes, we announced Križanke earlier than we started the album.

Kris: We sold it out before we started the album.

Jure: Yes, well, that too. We went to Križanke and we said, yes, well, we gotta release a new album, right, for Križanke.

Jan: But we've also sold it out promising this… the debut of a new album that hasn't even been made yet.

Jure: Yes, yes, we haven't done anything yet!

Bojan: When it hadn't even been planned yet.

Jan: Not one song, nothing.

Bojan: Nothing. We were like, "Hey, ten really sick songs, that for now don't exist yet, but we'll handle this later ."

But then these songs were created very quickly, because Križanke was in September of this year?

Kris: Yes, they were created quickly. I mean, if we're being completely honest, some have been in the making, even when we were making the first album, because, you know, you can't frustrate yourself with only ten songs, that you've been twisting for two and a half years, and Bojan in particular and I have written a few songs in between, or outlines. Then we built from that, when we started, the first draft. For the first draft.

Bojan: A first draft and an outline.

Kris: Right, a first outline.

Which means that things have been happening very fast for you lately?

Kris: Yes, things are moving quite fast, maybe, maybe even too fast for some. [someone gasps dramatically and Kris laughs] No, but in my opinion, we're all excited about it, and we're basically happy that everything can evolve so dynamically.

Can you all keep up?

Jure: I think so far yes, we have a great team around us, who really help us a lot. So, yes, we're keeping up with everything so far. A problem would arise if we didn't, right?

Bojan: And then we would break up. And in ten years' time we'll have a reunion and sell out some venues again and then break up again.

Jan: No, we must not disband now, because there's one Instagram page, a page called Joker.Out_nesmerazpadt [Joker.Out_ shouldnotbreakup]. So, let's not disappoint our fans.

Do you follow social networks well?

Jan: Yes, we must. Because, I mean, as someone who deals with social networks in the band, I feel like I spend a lot more time on my phone, doing whatever it is I'm actually doing, than making music. Which is a bit of a shame, but it's just how it is today, if the band itself promotes a brand of its own, its own image, you have to take care of the other things as well, that are not music.

Bojan: I think you should be grateful for all these references that you're going to be able to put to good use in PR and strategic management…

Jan: What, you mean if I wanted to get a job at Telekom?

Bojan: …when we break up and you'll be looking for a real job as a TikToker.

Someone: Manager.

'Plastika'

With the second one, we'll undergo surgery. It's time for 'Plastika'.

Bojan: Yes, 'Plastika' is a song that was written in the studio a few days before the album was released, basically. I didn't know what to write about, and there was an article in Delo about how 1/3 of Slovenian teenage girls want plastic surgery, and producer Žarko Pak looked at me from his chair and said, "Write a song about this." And I did.

Joker Out, 'Plastika', album 'Demoni' which we're playing today. You're not the luckiest with electricity. And if we connect this to Ormož.

Jure: Oh yes, yes, I mean, at our place we installed the wiring ourselves, so we're good electricians. But if the fuel runs out in the generator, it's not our fault, right.

Bojan: Yes, Ormož was such a lucky-unlucky situation, because we ran out of electricity during the concert, but luckily, that's the lucky part then, we were so, I would say, in the right mindset, that we went to stand on the speakers in front anyway, and sang and strummed on the acoustic guitar, until the power came back on, so it was actually one of those special little moments, and the flashlights and the lighters were on, you know, romance, people kissing, dancing, hugging, so, nice.

Does that mean you are also working on an acoustic repertoire?

Jure: Not yet.

Jan: Only in Ormož.

Jure: [laughing] Only in…

Bojan: Ormož special.

Jure: No, not yet, I think it's a bit early for acoustics. We'll do it later, in our old age, when we don't know what to do anymore.

As the older musicians say, when you go to their concerts, or like when you start playing around 5 or 7 PM at the latest.

Bojan: Yes, yes, that's it. Acoustic. Have a seat, and we'll be done at five.

Jure: Then let's go home and watch the news, you know, at seven.

Anyway, you have a lot going on right now, you sold out Križanke not long ago.

Kris: Križanke was just now, yes, actually, they seem… Even though it may be, we've been on holiday and I don't know, I think we did ten concerts in between, so Križanke seems like a long time ago. But now we're basically already heading to another bigger venue, Stožice, on October 6th, 2023. Yes, exclusively, exclusively for Radio Prlek. On the other hand, especially now with our latest single 'Demoni', we also have our eye on the Balkans and we're waiting to see if anything happens.

How do sold-out venues affect you?

Nace: I mean, I'm looking forward to Stožice for now, right, which I have no doubt will be sold out. So, anyway I don't know, I wasn't with them in Križanke, so I can't say that I've experienced it, but let's just say, that I look forward to everything that is coming.

Does this give you extra motivation to practice more?

Nace: I mean, if I may be a little cocky, I think I don't need to practice, right. But if you don't believe that, I recommend to come to a concert and listen to me play.

I see you have a good new member.

Bojan: Yes, yes.

Jure: Good at lyings, good at lying.

Bojan: Nace is a few years older than us, right, and he's…

Jan: Just by 30 years, right.

Bojan: 30 years older. …that he has quite a lot of experience. and he's a professional musician, so we're really just a bunch of amateurs compared to him, right, as far as practice is concerned, so I think, that Nace is quite right at this point, that if anybody needs a little bit of practice, it's us, and maybe me most of all, well, but let's move on.

Kris: To be completely honest, since being in the band Nace has requested to reherase the most. And even then we were like, "No, no, we don't need to", so… It's not entirely true, this facade that he's put up.

Nace, how much musical experience do you have, then? In which bands?

Nace: Me? I mean, oh… This question surprises me every time. I mean, with time, when you play so much you tend to forget people and I always find it hard to put a spotlight on people because I know, I will forget someone and I don't want for them… Well. What should I tell you?

Jan: About the cruise ship.

Nace: Oh, yes, as a fun fact, I can tell you that as an 18 year old I already went into the world, on a ship, on a cruise ship, to play where I spent half a year, I saw a bit of the world I came home and started to get a bit more involved in the Slovene music scene. So, maybe it's one of those things that most people have seen and I'm still a member of the 'Diamanti' band. RTV Slovenia programme 'Friday Evening'. And I was an accompanist for quite a lot of Slovene artists, I also recorded some things. So, I think that I've already left a mark, but it's far from final, and I think I will also leave one with the band, I'll bring something new to the band and show that… Who is, not who is Nace Jordan, but that I deserved this spot.

I almost heard, who is Nace Junkar?

Nace: You're not the first, well, but… as much… I'll say that Nace is a great person, right, as far as I got to know him, but I don't want to be mistaken for him. Jordan and Junkar, there is a slight difference

'Demoni'

The next one is 'Demoni'.

Jure: Oooh, little demons.

Bojan: Mhm.

Jure: The first one in Serbian. Bojan, I think it's best if you tell us more about it.

Bojan: Well, 'Demoni' is actually one of the first songs that I've written in Serbian in my life. The reason behind it was mostly or rather, let's say that the reason can be split into two parts. The first part is because we share the aspiration to go out of Slovenia's borders, to the Balkans, which are familiar to us. And the second part is that my roots are Serbian and I always wanted for my grandma to understand what I'm singing about because she always tells me "Yes, it's a lovely song," but if you don't understand it completely then it doesn't have that much meaning, right I've always wished for her to be able to understand so now she understands. Though she wasn't that excited about…

Jure: Right, she wasn't, I was just about to ask…

Bojan: No, that there're demons, it confused her. Why demons, is there something wrong with them, like that. But nothing is wrong, grandma, everything is all right. Everything is all right, grandma.

Demoni' from Joker Out on the Radioaktivno show. Exit was this year. A Serbian festival, world renowned, with a lot of people. Did you have fun there?

Kris: We had a lot of fun. Above all it was our first non Slovene concert experience for us. Before that we played in Poreč but more for Slovene students. So it was our first time introducing ourselves to the international crowd. And one might say that the majority of the crowd were Slovenians, but I was under the impression that a few foreigners were also impressed by our concert and that we left a mark, now we're hoping to be called back to Novi Sad because we had so much fun during those days when we were there.

Bojan (in Serbian): Brothers, call us, we would very much like to come back.

Have you then made a grand enough entrance through the doors to the Balkans?

Jan: Yes, we rang…

Bojan: With a club.

Jan: …with a hammer on the door. I don't know, I mean… I think that after a concert in Stožice the band that does it, also needs something new, something fresh. So, outside of Slovenian borders, there are many ears who want good music. So I think that Serbia is a great destination.

Nevertheless, the title of the album is after a song that is in the Serbian language.

Bojan: Well, that isn't that relevant. The title of the album was actually chosen because we thought that the word demons sums up all these elements we were surrounded with from Cvetličarna onward pretty well. Demons represent good responses bad responses, demons were sleepless nights, a lot of concerts, demons are the new songs that aren't made yet, demons were Križanke, that we sold out without having an album. Basically, a lot of demons were keeping us company we were each other's demons, because we were together all the time, maybe we were fed up with each other in some moments maybe we missed each other in some moments. So we really thought that this very short and clearly defined word that covers a broad spectrum of things that were happening to us. Not just negative but also positive, but yes.

Are you ever asked why Serbian and not English? Because the majority of artists create in English to break into the international market?

Jure: Well no, I think we aren't asked this much but I think that each one who starts working in English in Slovenia comes back to Slovene at the end.

Kris: We'll come to that. We have …

Jure: But yes.

Kris: We have a more long term tactic than most Balkan artists. First, go to the South, then through the South to the North, through the diaspora. So, first we have to conquer Serbians and Croats and all the others and so…

Bojan: and Bosnians and North Macedonia...

Kris: …and all the nationalities in between then we can go to whichever German, Swiss Austrian club to play.

Bojan: Well, no, you know what, being an author and wanting to stay authentic it's beneficial to stay in the language that suits your creative process and Serbian is my mother tongue which I think I expressed myself quite well in, right. Especially considering it's my first try. We'll see about English, I need more practice. I listened to an interview and I am pretty stiff... In English I mean.

Everyone: [laughter]

Practice makes perfect, they say.

Bojan: It wasn't planned. Yes, practice makes perfect.

Kris: You mean, have you listened to that interview yet?

Bojan: No, I haven't. I lied. But It's not like anyone can tell.

'Padam'

Next one is 'Padam'.

Kris: 'Padam' may be the first song that we envisioned for the new album to me it seemed that it defined the direction and vibe for the album very well. But when Bojan was playing it to us, it was very, very different. It was more suited to a band format than it is now. Do you remember?

Jure: Yes.

Kris: Yes, it had a demo with drums and that. Yes, I think so. I was sure then, that, that it would be, because it was a strong song lyrically and melodically and I was sure that it would be the biggest single of the album. But then, over the album making process, we somehow changed it and stripped it down and turned it into some kind of an acoustic ballad that really forces you to listen to the lyrics. Maybe it's not a banger as it used to be but it stands out more.

Bojan: So if someone says that Joker Out is a band that only wants hits it's just not true. This is a lie.

Also ballads.

Bojan: Also ballads.

Jure: That are hits, of course.

Bojan: Yes, yes. Right, that's a given, it's a given, god willing.

This time you offered us ten songs. It's interesting that you haven't released singles before but you first offered the album and 'Katrina' at the same time. Different approach than with the previous album where singles were combined in an album.

Kris: Yes, well in an ideal world we could release a few singles before the album release but we wanted to have two whole albums released in such short time that we actually didn't have time to deal with the process of releasing singles before the album release. But we'll definitely release a lot of singles from this album after it's out. So, 'Katrina' is released and 'Demoni', and then a lot of things can come. Also, for example, a song that to many didn't look like a single from the album could be released with a music video. When we released the album, there were I wouldn't say mixed responses but different people liked different songs. Now they maybe figured out which ones are more favourites and which aren't. But anyway, there's something for everyone on the album every listener can find a song or two on the album that are their favourites. And it's not as if it's so unevenly distributed.

Nace, how many times have you listened to both albums?

Nace: To both? I mean, I listened to the first one more for sure, since it has been out for longer, right. Otherwise, I listened to the second one immediately when it was released, I started listening to it in order to learn it. So I practically listened to it at least once per day for a month when the boys were vacationing. And maybe I might have gone over the guitar part as well, while driving, so, out loud, through Ljubljana, windows down, you know how it goes.

Bojan: You were driving, you were driving with a guitar in your car. Are you insane?

Nace: Look, I knew that I couldn't come there and not know, so I took advantage of every minute. I'm driving from Kranj, you know that is half an hour every day, when you go to Ljubljana, and it comes in handy. You know, a rush hour and you can… At least that bit of 'Padam' where tha bass comes in you know, I can practice it in between.

If we focus on sound, can you compare it to the debut album?

Jan: No. I mean, in some aspects, yes we're still us, the same people that also created the first album but the first album was recorded very sporadically. First, we recorded some drums, then the bass three months later, then we were recording the guitars for half a year every day, for a few hours and it dragged on, the thought process wasn't connected but it was more fragmented. So yes, I think that this album because for the most part we recorded it all together it works more coherently, in regards to sound.

Kris: If I may add, besides the whole process that influenced the sound, with this album we paid much more attention to the sound in post-production and instead of Žare who mixed the first album we found Todd Burke from LA this time who is a mixing and recording engineer there and he actually contributed a lot and he elevated the professional level of the whole product.

It means that you went from disorder to order?

Jan: We went from a mess to a blooming meadow, yes.

Who is the main author, or rather how do you create?

Bojan: Well, I'm the main author but this album was really like… What can be heard… What can be heard on the album was really a product of all of us because it was actually being made at the rehearsal space Songs were changing a lot from day to day from moment to moment. We tried a thousand and one versions for each one all ideas were welcome so I think that we truly found what everyone liked the best for each song.

As can we can see, now your rehearsal space is pretty nicely done.

Bojan: Yes, our rehearsal space is actually like our holy temple that we built ourselves. And we are immensely proud of it. Here, I think Jure is the most suitable to talk about it because he was, I'll say, the main author.

Jure: Installed the wiring and… Yes. Yes, we have a lovely space now, yes. It's nice, it's nice to come to the space and feel at home. Because it's a different energy and you can be more creative. I remember the beginnings, when we made the space when we first played there, do you remember it?

Bojan: Yes, yes.

Jure: When it was like, "Oh, sick."

Bojan: And then Maček, he thought it was so sick that he slept there for a week.

Jure: I do that even now.

Bojan: The rehearsal space influenced the album's creation a lot. Really, so I would say that a space is one of key elements for the band.

'Vse kar vem'

The second part is the lyrics, who's in charge of those?

Kris: Yes, again, for the most part, Bojan. although on this album one was written entirely by me, and one was a collaborative effort, between me and Bojan. That's actually the very next song, 'Vse kar vem', which we basically, I had an outline of the chorus, when last year, in March 2021, we went…

Jure: That's almost two years ago then.

Kris: Right, no, a year and a half. A year and a half.

Jan: Where were we?

Bojan: You've already had that in Šentjernej

Kris: I'd had it in Šentjernej already? Okay.

Bojan: Yeah, you've already revealed a bit of the chorus.

Kris: Oh, okay, interesting. Well, but we worked it out in March 2021, when we went to a hunting lodge in Lower Carniola and we took the chorus, Bojči changed the vocal melody slightly, we kept the lyrics and we made it into a whole song, which is basically based on these four chords. And he wrote segments of the lyrics, from the verses and the stanzas and the song grew spontaneously. I don't know if either of us even really knows what it means, because the stanzas are kind of in contrast to the chorus, but they come together very well.

On the album cover you are surrounded by mirrors and flowers. Except Nace, you are not there yet.

Nace: That, you asked the wrong person. It's just, when I look at the album cover, ah, the cover's pretty wicked. If you look at all the details in the background, how the guys are positioned, take your time, because I think you should dig into it at least a little bit and admire.

Kris: The album cover, if I may add, basically, if you'd like to see more details of how it was made, or what it all looked like, our new video 'Demoni', which was released a while ago, was basically shot on the same set and the same day, as we were doing the photoshoot for the album cover and it kind of visually supports the title track of the album.

Jure, is there something you wanted to add? For the album cover?

Jure: That they should buy the CD if they wish to see it.

Bojan: I would just add, that we are extremely happy and very grateful for the team, that was responsible for this creation. There was Primož Lukežič on camera along with Mark Pirc on the conceptual design, Andraž Drobnič on the graphic design and Damir, or Ponorelli, who did such a good job of styling us.

Who is in charge of your image?

Jan: Partly ourselves, for…

Bojan: Partly our parents.

Jan: Partly the parents, yes, they take us to Nama occasionally. Well, for the big concerts, for the videos and for the album cover, for the videos 'Katrina' and 'Demoni' and for the concert in Križanke, Damir Ponorelii handled the projects for us. Damir Raković Ponorelii. A good name. Well done, Damir.

Bojan: Rakičan.

Jan: Yeah, I think he, sometimes it's good to have a sixth eye. When we try to style ourselves for a concert and things don't…

Bojan: You mean the 11th and 12th eye?

Jan: Yes. Yeah, I mean, yeah. Right. He's probably got a 13th eye as well, right.

As you mentioned, you also filmed the most recent single, 'Demoni', in the same style?

Bojan: Yeah, we shot the video on the same day, as Kris said earlier, the same day that we shot the cover photo. So, it's seemed quite logical for us to make the most of this set, that's been set up in the studio, the guys have brought from the Ljubljana Marshes the whole covering, the mirrors were set up and it really kind of encapsulated the mood of the song of 'Demoni' and the album itself. And I believe we were pretty much done in two hours. Actually, the post-production was probably more complex for Mark. As you can see in the video, it took a little bit of video-shop skills as well, or whatever they're called.

Kris: Uh, if I may comment, you haven't actually heard this before. A while ago, when Jure and I were guests on the radio, the host said that when he first looked at the video, he was genuinely frightened. That he was a little bit thrown off, right, when he watched it. So in my opinion, we've achieved with the video what we set out to do.

Today, actually, video production is a necessity.

Kris: Yes, it is. Especially for the Balkan market, I believe, a song doesn't exist if it doesn't have a visualization, right, and a video is your way in if you want to. In Slovenia, we still have this way of life, where one would indeed listen to an album or buy a CD, which is nice to know, no.

'Ona'

'Ona' will be next, also in Serbian, and Bojan curses in it. How so? Or is it coincidental?

Bojan: Yeah, you know what, this cursing infiltrated itself very spontaneously in the lyrics. And I'm not the biggest fan of that kind of thing in principle, but it seems to me that in the whole context of the song, that phrase was very fitting, it's just an expression anyway. The thing that you really don't give a * for something, is just part of everyday vocabulary, including me at home. and when I showed it to my parents, they thought it was pretty amusing, not vulgar, and I don't think it's vulgar either, so yeah.

Jure: I'm interested in what your grandma said.

Bojan: But Grandma was mor… Okay, here we go. Grandma was slightly offended the first time she heard it. The deal is, she couldn't quite imagine how anyone could just put something like that it in a song, right. But she told me a month ago, that she really, really loves listening to this song now and that she thinks it is hilarious.

Jure: Yeah, well, come on.

See, now Bojan is no longer a nice little boy.

Jure: Now grandma knows what you're up to, right.

Bojan: Now he's a nice little girl.

How did the listeners respond to the second album?

Jan: According to the interactions we had with them live and through social networks, I'd say pretty good, right. I mean, maybe it wasn't what they were expecting, it definitely wasn't, they weren't expecting techno, bangers and what else we've got, yeah, the Beatles on acid, but I think we've intrigued them, that we kind of poked them, which I think is quite welcome.

The reviews are also positive, as you can read online?

Kris: Well, you know, I've read two so far. One was Croatian and one Slovenian. The Croatian one was maybe even a little bit more positive. The Slovenian one was, basically, based on it still being Shagadelic rock'n'roll or not. See, I don't know, maybe it is, maybe it isn't.

Bojan: You know, how you can ask the creator…, anyway, we invented Shagadelic rock'n'roll, right, so, whatever is made by the one who invented it, it's just it.

Jure: It just is.

Bojan: You can't…

Kris: I mean, yeah, okay, I totally agree with that, but you know, they've just based their impression of what Shagadelic rock'n'roll is on our first album, and maybe for most Shagadelic rock'n'roll is, what 'Umazane misli' was. But you have to allow for the possibility, for it to develop, because if you don't you're going to be listening to 'Umazane misli' 2, 3, 4, and 5 for the rest of your life, and we wouldn't want do that. We have decided for the morning after 'Umazane misli' and that is what 'Demoni' is.

What about the initial reactions from the Balkans?

Bojan: Last time we were backstage with Buč Kesidi, who are, let's just say that, at the moment the most active band in the Balkans from the younger generation and they were very, very, very, very, very excited about the album. And for Demoni, they said, "This, bro, is such a bomb, bro, it's gonna be a megahit, bro. I mean, literally, it's killing it, bro."

I mean, Bojan, this sounded very authentic just now and exactly as they'd say it.

Bojan: Yes, yes. That's exactly how it was, right. I didn't make a thing up.

Kris: He basically played the recording just now, since the listeners won't be able to tell.

Probably. Nace, are the listeners the main critics then, underneath the stage, in front of the stage.

Nace: I mean almost certainly. I mean, that's who this music is being made for, they're the reason we go on the road and perform. So I think it couldn't be any other way.

How have they received you as the new member? Is there more buzz around you now?

Nace: I'm not sure if I'm in the spotlight. And I think that neither they nor I, or anyone else for that matter has tried to thrust me into it. But it seems to me, just moving from concert to concert, that they're warming up to me, and so on… They're already shouting, "Nace!" and it feels really nice.

Kris: Has anyone approached you for a photo?

Nace: Yes, they have…

Bojan: They already have.

Nace: They have, they have.

Kris: Oh, great. This is a good sign.

'Tokio'

Next one up will be 'Tokio'.

Jure: Oooh, 'Tokio'. We love playing that one at concerts. I dunno, it's such a vibrant song, really. I'm lost for words…

Bojan: You're full of fun ideas…

Jure: No, you know what, it's 8 PM and my mind's blank.

Bojan: Okay, okay, yeah, we just woke up. Well, the reason is, 'Tokio' is actually… 'Tokio' because my first demo was in English, it was a bunch of gibberish, but in between was 'Dancing in the Streets of Tokyo' and Žarko insisted that this catchphrase has to stay. So, then we were making jokes a bit, about playing in Japan, and that's why I included two sentences in Japanese. And it was really cool, because when we were recording the vocals, we were like, "Okay, what's the Japanese pronunciation now?" and then we called Jan's ex-classmates who are studying Japanese studies, to tell us how to pronounce it, and we called a Japanese lady, someone Žare knew…

Kris: Some Slovenian man, married to a Japanese lady, no idea really, but, Mami Narita…

Bojan: Yes, yes, Mami Narita…

Kris: Yes, yes, yes it's not a joke at all. It's, it's, maybe you should leave this out, so it's not on record, but, it was actually her name, Mami Narita.

Bojan: Don't put this in in, please.

Jure: Yeah, well, whatever, it's a name. Whatever?

Bojan: I mean, she could be the only one in Slovenia.

Or, if you know the singer Stella, you can get in touch now, she's just gone to Japan to study.

Jure: Really?

Bojan: Well, here we go.

Jure: We've met Stella, haven't we?

Bojan: We know Stella, yes. We haven't been in touch for a while, though, but, right, Stella's a great girl. We've met Stella, but, yeah, we're probably not going to be hanging out that much, obviously, if she's going to Japan.

She's already there.

Bojan: She's already there? Maybe we'll visit.

Kris: Maybe the song is about Stella.

You've had a vacation since Križanke, was it an active one or not?

Jan: Yeah, I went to Littoral Slovenia for a week, with a tiny keyboard , among the goats and the hills above the Vipava Valley. And then Jure and I went caravanning around Germany, where our tyre blew up twice, but let's leave out the details. And we bought some new equipment, so, yeah, it was spent actively in part and in part, we did rest.

What about you Bojan?

Bojan: I've spent a few days at the seaside, a few days in Banja Luka at my grandma's, lounging on the sofa all day, eating čevapi and drinking Coca Cola. One day I literally got up from the sofa in the evening, and my grandma said, " Where are you going?" And I said "I'm going to grab something to eat." "No, I'll go!" So I literally wasn't allowed to do anything.

Jure, besides Germany?

Jure: Besides Germany, a week at the sea and afterwards we went to the seaside together, for a couple of days. I don't know, it was nice, but we haven't vacationed in so long, it was a bit weird to go on holiday, right. It's not my usual mode.

Kris?

Kris: Yeah, I've had, let's say, the least, the least laid-back kind of vacation, because on the same night after Križanke, I flew to Peru, where I spent three weeks. We hiked and travelled and basically got very little sleep. All in all, it was a good experience and it basically was the only time when I could make a trip like that possible, a kind of collective vacation, but we had a chance to relax a bit when I got back, we went to Pula for a couple of days, as the guys have already mentioned. and that was my, let's say, my actual time off.

Nace, all you did was practice?

Nace: I did, for the whole month basically, like I've mentioned, and when I didn't practice, I was driving around in the car, and then I practiced in the car.

Bojan: What about the fish?

Nace: That's it, right. And then we went to Pula together that week, that was, what, the last week? Before the first concert, we got to know each other…

Kris: That was the first week of October.

Nace: …a little bit better. The first week of October, yeah. So we had a good time. And then straight to the gig, it was well, yeah. And the fish… Actually, yeah, Bojan and I got a new hobby, we took up fishing, but we've spent a fair amount of time fishing and I have to say, so far, without success. But it's nice, so if anyone knows, a serious fisherman, Bojan and I are really looking for someone, who would take us to a place where we could catch a fish. Even if it's to an aquarium. Just so it happens.

Did you set the wrong bait?

Nace: No, we've tried every bait in the world.

Bojan: I mean, really, we Googled it, we did everything right in theory, but we really didn't catch more than two seabream, and even they were really the size of this microphone I'm talking into. And a fun-fact, just a quick one, Nace took me to a pond, to go fishing, right, because that's where you catch fish. We got to the pond and the gentleman who manages the pond said…

Jure: Fish farm.

Bojan: I mean, yeah, he said… We said, "Where do we buy a ticket?" and he said "Well, no need, there aren't any fish anyway. You can just go for free." Naturally, we didn't catch a thing.

The interview will proceed a little differently, I'm not the one asking the questions anymore, you'll get a new interviewer. Last week I hosted Slick, a rapper from Velenje, with his album 'Sveža plat' ('Fresh Side'), and he asked you four questions. The first question is:

Slick: If you could collaborate with any musician in the history, who would you choose?

Jan: Well, let's say Vivaldi.

Jure (?): Oh, that's what I was going to say…

Jan: Imagine, you know, he shreds on a violin, I shred on a guitar… brrrrrr…

Bojan: I'd say, from the top of my head, Maček, you. Tell me.

Jure: Oh, I guess The Beatles.

Kris: David Bowie.

Nace: Led Zeppelin. To be fair, I've already got Bonham in the band, I'm getting there I'm getting there.

The second question:

Slick: How often do you tell yourself that you don't have time and is that really the case?

Nace: I mean, I say that to myself every minute, but I don't know if it is true. I mean, we all like to whine a little bit sometimes, don't we.

Kris: Yeah, I say I don't have time a lot, but I know that for certain things, that you want to make time for, you take the time.

Jure: Yeah, I agree with Kris, yeah. But our profession is such, that we're not home on the weekends and when someone asks you if you wanna go to a party, or have a drink, you just say you don't have time, right. So, yeah, we don't have time. That happens a lot.

Bojan: I would say, that if … I'd say I don't have time, I'd be lying at some point. But during the summer I actually didn't have time to even think about whether I had time or not. So I am glad that the summer is over.

Jan: Yeah, sometimes you have to put your feet up, so, sometimes I use that excuse to be able to…

Jure: Lie down.

Jan: To lie down, yeah. I mean, I don't actually have much time, but not to have time at all, well, there's that. And stil.

The third question Slick asks you is who in your family has had the biggest impact on the person you are today?

Jan: Probably my mother and my brother…

Bojan: You can't name more people, hey.

Jan: Oh, just one? I guess, as far as music goes, definitely my brother, because he's also a music producer and he was the one who first introduced me to music, and without him I doubt I would be heading in this direction.

Bojan: I would say my father. He's kind of also the biggest supporter of what's going on in my musical head, and whatever's going on with us and he's actually really, really, really happy with all the success. And even when there's failure, he knows just what to say to calm me down.

Jure: You know what, I've been locked in a cellar, and my dad's always said I was made for a pick and a shovel, so…

Bojan: And he wasn't far from the truth.

Jure: Well, yeah, yeah, parents, naturally, right. That's it.

Bojan: Why parents, you have to choose one person…

Jure: Well I can't choose one.

Bojan: How come?

Jue: I can't.

Bojan: Come on.

Jure: They come together.

Bojan: Break someone's heart, won't you?

Jure: Yeah, then I'll say my sister.

Bojan: Here, good one.

Kris?

Kris: For me, I would think it would be quite hard to tell, who has influenced my musical career the most, right, but it is definitely going to be my dad, who was the first who put a guitar in my hands when I wished for one.

Nace: For me, in music, it's must be my cousin, right, because we essentially grew up as brothers. and he brought the guitar to our house, and that's what made me… And he had a band and then I wanted that too, except he's a few years older than me.

And one last question, Did you eat cheese?

Nace: I did.

Kris: I did.

Jure: Yes, I like it very much.

Bojan: I love cheese, too.

Jan: Yes, I've eaten it many times.

Then afterwards you have the same task, so you can start thinking about it, each of you will ask one question to the next guest.

'NGVOT'

The second to last one we're going to play today will be 'Ne govoriva več o tem'. also known as 'NGVOT'.

Kris: More specifically Ngvot. We have chosen that title because, I think that when I first brought the song to the rehearsals in 2018, I already had it spelled out that way. And then, when we wrote it on the setlists it was always 'NGVOT', because it's just too many words, to cram them all into one setlist. But, what's the story behind this song? Because it's a bit different in atmosphere and maybe more naive than the rest of the album. It's a song, as I said, that was made in 2018 and which we kind of, we never really liked it very, very much, but we played it because we needed to be fill our setlist. And then, fortunately or unfortunately for us, it really clicked for us in the concerts, our fans really took to it as one of their songs, and they sang along beautifully at concerts and we basically couldn't imagine doing the second album without the song. So, then we got creative, and we adapted it a little bit into a form that fit us, that was very different from what we played before the album came out. But actually, it fits very nicely now, I think, right. It comes in handy.

Joker Out, to round up this conversation, I see you have very busy days what challenges lie ahead, besides Stožice next year? It's just around the corner.

Jan: We have quite a few plans for the future, which… I don't know if I'd give them away yet, no. But it's… Maybe, at this point it looks like we're going to Hamburg to record the English versions of our songs. That's also a partial answer to the previous question, for Kris, or for anybody, why Serbian and not English. English is coming too.

Bojan: So, that we can join those bands, that go to English and then go back to Slovenian really quickly.

I see you still have CDs as a sound medium? Is that it?

Jure: Yes, and we have a LPs as well. They sell out even faster than CDs, actually, I think. They've made a comeback recently. It seems to me that you have to have this product. When you release an album you have to feel the CD in your hand to say OK, now we've got this.

Bojan: I am absolutely thrilled. I thought we were selling tea coasters all along. Bear coasters, you know?

But you don't sell ID cards.

Kris: Yeah, here we go. Yeah, buy our CD or LP.

Everything about how to get the LP on the website?

Kris: Absolutely, our website is the best guide sign you'll ever see, It's all clearly visible on it, come and have a look.

Bojan: www.allyourneedsunderoneroof.com

And there's a mention of Joker Out somewhere.

Kris:Yeah.

Bojan: Yeah, somewhere at the bottom.

Kris: In sidenotes, right.

Bojan: Yeah, yeah.

You mentioned earlier that there's going to be more singles from the album, not just the two that are already released?

Nace: I think there will be, right. It's just a question of when. Well, 'Demoni' have arrived on Halloween, and now to the next step.

Kris: Yeah, so, well, what should I say...

Jure: Something else might be released, live from Križanke.

Kris: I'm sure there'll be some more live footage, but for now we've got a couple of songs coming out as singles. For me, maybe, I'm not saying it's going to be a single, but I feel 'Ne bi smel' is very much singlelike, the second song on the album. And maybe the others should share which one they see as a single.

Nace: I mean, I also see 'Ona' as a single, right. Definitely. If nothing else, when we play it live, it's it for me. It could be.

Bojan: Honestly, I'll say it like this. Let's give it time, but I think, sooner or later, every single one of these songs is gonna have its singlelike moment. So, keep your eyes open for the videos, the video material, let's not restrict ourselves, you can also find on our website a couple of nice pieces of furniture or home accessories, so you're welcome to visit.

And then in a few more sleeps, it will be the 6th of October 2023.

Jure: Yeah, that'll be quick.

Bojan: What happens then?

Jure: Yeah, Stožice, right. That's it, quick, get the tickets, because they're going to be sold out. I don't know, I feel like we can't wait. Although, we've been waiting six months for Križanke, and it's been pretty exhausting. Now we have to wait a year, so it's only going to get more exhausting.

Bojan: Yeah. Well, the problem with Stožice is, is that truthfully they're so surreal, that, I mean, I really remember the first time we ever set foot in Stožice, when we played at Ritem mladosti (Rhythm of Youth), as an opening band at 7pm, and we said, "Wow, hey, can you imagine everyone coming here because of you, can you?" And now, like three or four years later it's going to happen and it doesn't feel real yet.

'Novi val'

I think we tie this to the last track 'Novi val'.

Bojan: 'Novi val' is one very, very special song for me, because it emerged, from one, how should I say, direct impulse from nature and that was when the fires broke out in the Karst. That's when this phrase came, "Where shall we go from here if we are already setting the horizon ablaze?" and the song was built around that. We kind of felt, that there was a generation, a few generations younger, and maybe a couple of generations older than us, entagled in it, in this preconception that maybe we don't know quite what to do with ourselves or that we are not a good enough contrib… What do you call it, a contribuator to society? I've just made up a word for that. Basically, this song is a bit like I would say an expression of any young person at the moment, who knows that they matter, who knows that their voice counts. and who wants a better tomorrow.

'Novi val' to wrap up this conversation, Jan, Bojan, Jure, Kris and Nace, thank you, for being guests on Radioaktivno and may you be successful and hard-working on your journey. And see you again in a year with the new album?

Bojan: Absolutely, thank you very much for having us, we had a great time last year as well, we remember that interview as a nice one, next year we don't know if there will be an album, but we'll be fresh out of Stožice, really.

Jan: Yeah, thanks for the invitation, we'd love to come again. I agree with what Bojan said.

Jure: I wish everybody a good night, right.

Kris: Good night everyone, the third album may not be next year, but I'm sure there'll be a lot of things to listen to and see.

Jure: But it will be the next one.

Kris: It will be the next one.

Nace: Same from me, right, see you in Stožice. I'm Nace. Still, something like that.

All: We're Joker Out,

Bojan: and you're listening to Radioaktivno.

#joker out #jokeroutsubs #nace jordan #birthday special

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black-arcana · 5 months

Text

the GazettE members says farewell to Reita

With the passing of Reita, the members of the GazettE have shared their heartfelt and heartbreaking farewells to the brightest bassist out there, Reita.

In the farewell messages, the members make mentions of the “forever” that Reita wished for, referring to Reita’s last tweet posted the day before his passing.

Reita’s last tweet: “I hope that the GazettE lasts forever”.

In our translations below, we tried to keep the messages as faithful to the original source as possible, taking into account nuances such as vocalist Ruki’s use of hiragana for “Reita” (れいた), and the other members’ use of “REITA” in capital letters, and more.

Please read every word that the members had to share.

Vocalist Ruki

I think the meaning of what [Reita] posted at the end, “I hope that the GazettE lasts forever”, is that he wanted to be able to see that amazing view from the stage in 2023—the view that he saw with his own eyes—for the rest of time. That view he saw together with you, the fans. Your happy faces. That place where all of us raised our voices together. That wonderful, irreplaceable treasure. I think that he thought it would be wonderful if that moment would last an eternity. I remember you saying that you wanted to play a show soon. “Even when I’m having a hard time, getting together with my band members like this and laughing is when I’m having the most fun”, he was the type of kind, passionate guy, who even after becoming an adult could say this with total honesty. I loved that honesty. We even joked around about taking care of our health this year, just like we did every year on our birthdays. This band will never be a 4 member thing. No matter what anyone says. You’re the only bassist for us. I know your soul is always going to be there on my right-hand side. Nobody will be able to see it, but we’ll feel it. That proof of life that you built with the GazettE will live on. That’s what I believe. That you’ll always be beside me as I keep singing, Reita. We’ll never become something that you’d hate. I don’t want to make you sad. Humans lives are finite, but I think the soul remains. Your soul will live on, in us, in me, in our fans. I want to keep playing shows that will make those I love want to come back and play, even when they’re just souls. Because all of our fans are here for us, we can create that view he wanted to see and keep him here with us forever. So please stay by my side from here on out, too. I know he’d like it best if you remembered him with a smile, and how amazing he was, instead of being sad when you see him. We’ll be more than ready to look after this band from here on out. We’ll show you that “forever” you wished for, Reita. So make sure you come down from heaven for every show, okay? We’ll always have a seat for you. Things are going to get really busy from here on out. Once we’ve settled on a schedule, I’ll contact you again.

Guitarist Uruha

To all the fans who supported REITA until now, I think he was a huge source of support for everyone, including myself. I still can’t accept that he’s not here, that we won’t be able to stand on stage together again. I think there’s going to be a lot of things I’ll come to understand slowly over time. But drowning in sorrow forever won’t let us bring his wish to see “forever” to life, and I deeply feel that I need the strength to keep moving forward from here on. I also think that the road we paved with him to get here is irreplaceable, and I think we all want to keep that alive inside of us in the future. He gave us so much, and stood by our side for so long, and now and forever, he will be one of my closest friends. Please keep all the words, the memories, and the love for everyone that he gave us in your hearts. REITA will live on in our hearts. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for always supporting the GazettE and REITA in more ways than one.

Guitarist Aoi

Out of all the things and all the work I’ve had to do with these members and our small team of staff, this is the only one I haven’t wanted to do. There was a time in the past when I considered giving up on my dream. Back then, after so many discussions, and some encouragement, the other members managed to convince me not to give up. That’s the kind of band we are, and that’s how the GazettE came to be where it is. REITA, you’re not the type of person who wishes for eternity. You’re the type who is eternal. To someone like you, I can’t say something clever like “I’ll carry the weight of your burden too”. I wanted to make more music with you, and see so much more together. No matter where or what, if it’s all 5 of us and our fans are there, it would be amazing. It’s so painful, having all these things I want to say and knowing none of them will come true. Anyway, when I make my way over there, I’m going to give you a stern talking to. You must be sad that we’re suddenly not around anymore, but just rest up until we meet again. I have a little more that I need to do on this side first. Thanks for coming all this way with us. Rest in peace.

Drummer Kai

REITA was such a huge presence to me, more than I can even know. All the words, saving me with sound, the mood maker of the band; really, I have so many truly wonderful memories of him, but most of all, his brilliant appearance when he was on stage. He was the best partner anyone could ask for in the rhythm section, truly one of a kind. That hasn’t and will not change. I want to carry his memory with me, and be more determined than ever to continue the GazettE. Lastly, to all our fans and associates who have supported us throughout these 22 years, Thank you. I want to keep running forward, all 5 of us, and hope you’ll stay with us. REITA. Rest easy. Thank you. Just like always, with everyone by our side, we’ll keep the GazettE alive. I promise. I don’t want those 22 years of yours to be wasted, and there are plenty of others who don’t either. Make sure you show your face at our shows! Let’s drink the good stuff together again sometime, okay?

We tried to get these message ready for you as soon as possible, but reading through them was extremely emotional and difficult for us.

While we understand that for most, this might not provide any real closure, but we hope you were able to grasp the sentiment and genuine emotions that the members shared.

As fans, we will continue to protect that “forever” too, Reita. Please rest assured.

#the gazette #ruki #uruha #aoi #kai #reita

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rrxnjun · 1 year

Text

i felt younger when we met | n. yuta

nakamoto yuta was your hero. as the lead singer of the rising punk band takes you along with him on his journey to stardom, you realize that you never knew heartbreak could taste so sweet.

PAIRING: nakamoto yuta x fem! reader STARRING: lead singer! yuta, guitarist! doyoung, bassist! johnny, drummer! mark GENRE: rockstar au, band au. angst, suggestive. WC: 17k (17.630) WARNINGS: age gap, mentions of alcohol, weed and hard drugs, yuta and his band actually played the warped tour (canon!) pls somebody tell me yall get the reference, cheating and breaking up

PLAYLIST: honey - l'arc en ciel ; i felt younger when we met - waterparks ; your power - billie eilish ; motion sickness - phoebe bridgers ; guys my age - hey violet ; praha/vídeň - calin ; drugs - cheridomingo

A/N: oh yall are gonna HAATE this one. thank you arden @zhongriot for brainstorming with me about this it was greatly appreciated <3 growing up is realizing doyoung was actually the only decent one and that jaechan was right. also the original title of this wip was honey so sweet bc of the honey cover just so yall know lol

I. honey, so sweet

The last few tones of a G chord resonate through the garage, the platinum blond’s raspy voice fading out into silence as you watch the band in front of you with stars in your eyes, breathless and with your ears ringing only slightly due to the noise that’s been happening for quite some time now. Feeling yourself clap and squeal at the little show you just finished watching, you’re brought up to your feet as you jump around enthusiastically, the sound of the thick sole of your boot against the ground waking you up only slightly from the weird state of euphoria you’ve been in until now.

You’ve known Yuta for quite some time now, but this was the first time he let you watch his band practice. Everything you’ve known about the music he plays was through the headphones sneakily passed to you when you had a night shift at the diner, or from the voice memos he’d send you very early on in the morning when you were supposed to be asleep, and everything you’ve known about his band members was through his words shared in the comfort of his car seats or the benches in the park. You’ve seen Mark once before, when he had late dinner with Yuta while you were working at the diner downtown, but your interaction didn’t go further than a polite greeting and a boyish grin sent your way from the charming drummer.

It’s only natural that everything about the late night feels ecstatic to you now. The tones of electric guitars and the rhythm of the drums making your heart beat faster than before, Yuta’s sharp, yet hearty vocals calling to you like sirens in the middle of the ocean. Tonight’s one of the few nights you don’t have night shift at the diner– since you usually take all Friday night ones; you get paid more for them and with your schedule at school, you can’t afford to work more night shifts throughout the week– and Yuta took that as an opportunity to invite you over to his garage to listen to his band play. The lead singer made eye contact with you throughout each song, and you felt yourself flush at the thought that the words coming out of his mouth might have been addressed to you, written about you, adrenaline soaring freely through your veins.

“That was amazing! Wow, like,” you throw your hands up, at a loss for words, “I literally couldn’t believe my ears.”

“You expected less of me, babe?” Yuta grins at you from his place at the microphone stand, taking a step back from the device to put away the guitar hanging around his neck. You watch his movements intensively, eyes scanning the outline of his biceps and the loose hems of his jet black shirt, the platinum white hair falling into his eyes. “I thought you already knew what we were made of when I let you listen to our songs back then.”

“Well,” you sheepishly hum, “it’s different to hear it live.”

The singer snickers, shrugging to himself. “Told you to prepare yourself.”

“I don’t think I could even if I tried,” you compliment the man, eyes watching the rest of the band as they put their respective instruments away. And again, you don’t know these men that well– you’re not as familiar with them as you are with their frontman, since you haven’t spent much time around them just yet– but there’s something joyful in the bassist, Johnny’s smile when he meets your eye before he puts away his guitar into its dark blue case.

Their band– Neo zone– consists of four members. Yuta, your friend, plays the guitar and sings. He’s the frontman of the group and also the person that founded the band; at least that’s what he told you. He met Johnny at college– both of them majoring in Finance before they decided to drop out in their sophomore year– and soon after, he recruited his friend to be the bassist for his band. The two of them met Doyoung, their lead guitarist, at a concert of an underground band some years ago through a mutual friend Taeyong, and they all hit it off so well that when the thought of a band first came to light, Yuta wasted no time in chatting up the charming male for the position. And lastly, their drummer Mark– he was the youngest of them all, the most quiet one, and from what Yuta told you, he met the man through his younger brother. The two of them were friends at college, so Mark spent a lot of time over at Yuta’s house, and he knew that the male could play the drums– so after a casual conversation over a beer one evening, here they were.

“I’m heading home,” says the drummer, waving at the rest of the group, “I have a thing I’m supposed to attend with Jaehyun today.”

“Aight,” Yuta hums, nodding, “good job today, Markie. See you next week!”

The male disappears out of the rusty garage in no time, and with him follows the tall one– Johnny– saying he has a morning shift at the store he works at tomorrow, excusing himself out of the after-practice hangout. That leaves only you, Yuta and Doyoung in the room, and while you’d like to get to know his friends and bandmates better, you’d be more satisfied if either all of them stayed behind, or if the only one who stayed was anyone but the lead guitarist.

See, you don’t know Kim Doyoung that well. All you know about him is that he’s a year younger than Yuta and that he’s painfully good at what he does. You also know that he has a sharp jawline and even sharper eyes, which he gladly lands on you whenever he hears you talk, and that motion makes you self-conscious and insecure on most instances. He also has a sharp tongue, which you learned not that long after being first introduced to him this afternoon, and while you don’t know what you did to get on the man’s nerves so much, you figured it’s for the best to interact with him as least as humanly possible if you wanted to spare your feelings and not get yourself hurt.

“Today was good, but try getting over the last song on your own again,” Doyoung offers to his friend, watching him with cold eyes. Yuta makes his way around the room and takes a seat next to you on the dusty, maroon sofa, his legs spreading wide making your eyes drift towards his lean figure. You watch the exchange silently, picking at the skin of your cuticles anxiously, hoping for it to be over quickly.

“The Departure?” Yuta assures himself.

Doyoung nods as he hides his guitar into his case as well, handling the instrument with utmost care. “You went a little off-beat in the last part.”

“Got it, chief,” Yuta jokes, saluting the man, a lazy grin overtaking his features. “Wanna grab a beer and stay over for a bit?” he asks, the question making your insides heaten up with anticipation, stinging a bit of an anxious fear.

It’s almost as if the guitarist feels that you’re afraid of his presence– it’s not like he scares you, to be exact, you’re just slightly intimidated by the serpent-like male– as he meets your eye before he turns towards the frontman. “Nah,” he shrugs, “I’m good. Maybe next time,” he adds, taking the guitar case off the ground and heading towards the door.

“Whatever floats your boat.”

“Try not to fuck the kid on the couch, right? We sit there sometimes,” Doyoung snickers before he’s off, his raven bangs bouncing up and down when he skips out of the old-smelling garage. The remark stings you a bit, the harsh words, although you hate to admit it, feel like salt thrown into a fresh wound, having you chew on the inside of your cheek as you listen to the door close behind the male, leaving you alone with Yuta.

The male next to you clears his throat, easing the tension in your muscles when you look up at him and see him smiling softly at you, a twinkle in his eye. “What?” he asks you, sensing that you’re feeling a little down.

“It’s- it’s nothing,” you nod to yourself, not really wanting to be as vulnerable in front of your friend. You treasure Yuta more than anyone else, since you always somehow feel like your souls are connected on a level you haven’t felt with no one your whole life, but sometimes, you feel a bit shameful to admit to your worries in front of him. To the male, the world is his sea, his place that he swims through with passion and enthusiasm. He doesn’t seem like the type of person to worry about what your friends would think of him, no matter how bad it could be. He doesn’t seem like the type of person that would understand you if you worded your anxious feelings out loud, the type of person who’d reassure you without making you feel foolish.

Still, somehow, he sees right through you. “Don’t worry about Doyoung. He’s got a stick up his butt on most days, it’s nothing to have with you,” he says, offering you the gentlest of smiles, poking your cheek a little when he sees you pout.

You heave out a sigh, but offer the man a loop-sided smile– the kind you fake, but hope the receiving side is satisfied– watching him as he scoots closer to you and puts an arm around your shoulder. The scent of his cologne hits your nose and you feel yourself easing into him, the gesture somehow protective and affectionate in your eyes, but the proximity still makes your heart thump fast against your ribcage. Taking a shaky breath through your nose, you find yourself staring intensely at his face.

“So you’re saying you enjoyed hearing us play?” he asks you, tone of voice kitten-like, yearning for praise. He sounds coy, confident, but still searches for hearing you say it out loud. Sometimes you think he enjoys listening to you talk about him. It makes him feel good when you flutter your eyelashes at the male in the middle of the diner and tell him you love the way he sings, it makes his ego grow when you gasp at all the right parts and compliment the lyrics in the chorus. And you don’t think it’s a bad thing– you think you’d do the same if you were in his shoes.

Hushed voice, you nod eagerly, grinning. “Yeah,” you agree. “I also enjoyed seeing you play,” you muse, watching as the satisfied look on Yuta’s face grows and his excited eyes gleam with more intensity.

“Did you?” he teases, head ducking closer to you, the proximity making your breathing catch in your throat. You bet he knows about the effect he has on you by now– you bet he realizes that each time he talks to you with that tone, the flirty hint of it in his voice, you feel weak in your knees, ready to fold for him. You bet he is aware of the fact that you watch him all the time, eyes glued to his confident figure, amazed at the way he moves around the garage with his guitar, tinted with a hint of jealousy when the girls that go eat at the diner at the same time he visits you on your night shifts ogle him and he sends some a shameless wink. You’re almost sure he knows about the dreams you have of him at night, about the fact that you fantasize about him writing songs for you and singing them on stage, letting the world know that your feelings might be reciprocated.

The idea makes you cave in on yourself. “Yeah,” you breathe out, feeling heat rising to the tips of your ears.

“That’s good,” he hums, “wanna hear a little secret?” he asks, eyeing you with a glimmer in his eye. You hum in response, eager to be let in on the confidential information. “I wrote the last song about you,” he whispers. “Maybe I’ll release it one day.”

The sentence startles you, the comment makes all sorts of warm gold sprawl around your stomach, the tips of your ears burning and the nerve endings on your fingers tingling from excitement. “Really?” you gasp. You never imagined having a song written about you. You never imagined someone caring enough– never imagined having someone sing to you, about you. Sure, you fantasized about it happening, almost a little foolishly and childishly, but you never once dared to think of the fantasy as true.

Yuta laughs at your composure. You bet you look small in his eyes. “What? Are you shy about it, pretty girl?”

“No,” you peep, averting your gaze from him and aimlessly searching through your surroundings, watching the unmoving garage. Your eyes glue to the white wall in front of you, ignoring the fact that Yuta’s face is only an inch away from yours, your hands now clammy as you rest them in your lap.

“It seems that you are,” he grins, “you don’t have to be, though,” he notes, a finger hooking around the bottom of your chin, a gentle hold making you turn your face towards him, eyes locking in a dangerous blink.

Gaping, not breaking eye contact– too afraid to break the spark– you wait for what’s about to come, welcoming it with open arms. The air around you gets thicker and the silence becomes overbearing, you find yourself counting each white strand that falls into his eyes, when the male leans in to you, the sudden shift making your eyes flutter close on themselves.

It happens, the moment you’ve been dreaming about; the moment you’ve wanted to experience ever since you first met the male, all real and only yours to live over and over in your memories– Yuta kisses you, gently at first, lips playing with yours in a way that makes the soft sense of nervousness flutter like butterfly wings in your stomach. Your shy hands grip the front of his shirt when he deepens the kiss, makes it more firm and urgent, teeth clashing against each other in the messy cacophony of your souls, a sound of a heavy breath flying into your ear as the male grips your jaw and angles your face the way he wants it to, testing the waters with a bit of tongue.

You invite him in, parting your lips and letting him explore, letting him win the battle for dominance– not that you even wanted to be the one in charge in the first place– and although you feel a little overwhelmed, a bit too lost in the moment, you find yourself moving from your place and straddling his lap, the hands that were once cradling your face falling off and gripping your hips, keeping you right where you are.

When you feel your lungs being knocked out of all oxygen, you pull away from the male, eyes locking with his swollen lips, and you feel a bit satisfied with yourself– having him like this, eyes blown-out and staring at you like you were the only thing in the whole entire universe that mattered right in this moment. There’s something about the wrinkles on his shirt from how you’ve been gripping on it, about his flushed cheeks, that makes you feel proud of yourself. You did this to him, you smile, you are the reason why he looks like this.

Pressing your forehead against his, eyes still staring into his deep, dark orbs, the singer breaks out into a boyish grin, shaking his head in disbelief, wanting to bring himself back to the present moment. “So I’ll take it as my pretty girl will come watch me play more often, right?” he hums.

A fluttery feeling erupts in your chest, warmth spreading all the way to the tips of your fingertips. “Your pretty girl?” you ask.

Yuta nods, snickering to himself. “My pretty girl,” he mumbles, and before you get a chance for a rebuttal, he pulls away an inch, cradling his neck up to press a peck to the middle of your forehead.

The adrenaline, the smell of his cologne, the excitement seeping right through you and to the space all around– you never knew Yuta would taste this good. You never knew he could taste this sweet.

II. the rush of adrenaline, I'm not scared to jump in

The smell of burned oil and grease fills your nose as you make your way through the kitchen, figure skipping through the whole diner in irregular intervals during yet another one of your Friday night shifts. Taking the plate filled with chicken nuggets, potatoes and ranch dressing, you offer a quick smile to your coworker Jaechan as you walk out of the back, ready to serve the food to one of your regulars.

As you finally get out of the heated and humid place, back to the main dining area that has air conditioning on, your eyes catch with a certain someone waiting for you at the pult, a grin settling onto his features when you light up at noticing his presence.

“I’ll be right with you,” you say to him as you pass his body and walk over to one of the tables in the corner of the room, smiling at your customer when you give him the plate. Your steps are lighter and more enthusiastic when you get back to Yuta sitting at one of the tall stools, his face still adorned with a soft smile. The male watches you as you work, and you feel warmth envelope your insides.

“Weren’t you supposed to have practice tonight?” you ask him, settling behind the pult. There aren’t many people in the diner right now, and the work during the night is slow– you kind of despise the fact that you’re open 24/7, but that’s what you get for working at a diner– so there’s no issue in you chatting away with your friends that come visit when you have the time. You always make sure to do your job well and put the customers first, so your boss never really complained.

“It’s over already,” he says, “we got over the songs quite quickly,” he notes, seeing you nod and smile at his response.

“That’s good,” you say, “I’m glad. Do you want something? Fries? Coke? On the house, obviously,” you grin, making the man eagerly nod to your question, eyes lit up in joy.

“Just a glass of coke is fine,” he says.

You turn away from him for a mere second, taking one of the clean glasses to your hand and then walking a few steps to the right where the coolers are, taking out a glass bottle of Coca-Cola. Offering the drink back to your boyfriend, you watch him as he pours the black liquid into the tall glass, the two of you enveloped in a comfortable silence. The diner doesn’t play music after 10 PM, and somehow, you’re glad. It gets kind of annoying to listen to the same few songs on loop the whole night– because the speaker system is old and doesn’t have an AUX input, you have to listen to the same 3 CDs over and over again the whole year– and so whenever Yuta comes to visit you during your night shifts, the silence only adds to your sense of intimacy and comfort with the man.

“Was Doyoung less snappy today?” you ask, watching the male grin and shake his head at your question.

“A bit,” he admits, “not too much, though. Don’t know what’s gotten into him lately, but he’s been a real bitch.”

You hum at his response, eyes tracing his features. “Maybe he’s stressed about something,” you propose, and you don’t really put much meaning into your own words– you don’t know the man enough to know how he reacts under pressure, nor do you really care– but the man in front of you only squints his eyes in thought, shrugging.

“Could be it,” he agrees, “I mean, there’s a lot happening with the band right now, so it would be only natural,” he says, making you furrow your brows at him in question. You weren’t aware of anything big happening– maybe the news were recent, you didn’t know, but judging by the fact that you’re pretty updated on things concerning the band, you wouldn’t be surprised if they were.

“What do you mean?” you ask, folding your hands at your chest and leaning on the counter, your face now closer to Yuta’s– god, you’ll never get used to just how beautiful this man is in your poor eyes.

The singer grins to himself, acting innocent. “Just… some stuff,” he says.

“What is it?” you ask again, this time with a coat of persistence in your voice. You don’t want to say it out loud, but you’re getting kind of worried– Yuta doesn’t usually hide things from you. Hell, you’d even go as far as saying that you are the first person he comes to when something happens, no matter if it’s good or bad, and with the suspicious way he’s acting right now, your mind can’t help but wander.

“Nothing,” he peeps, taking a sip out of his glass, making you sigh and roll your eyes at the male. You point your finger to the middle of his forehead, poking him– his head lulls backwards a little, making you heave out a soft giggle– before you squint at him in annoyance.

“Come on,” you huff, “you’re not gonna tell me?” you pout, mastering your best attempt at puppy eyes– something inside of you tells you that no matter how stubborn Yuta is, he’s kind of weak for you when you look at him like that– and the man only snickers at you as he shakes his head in disbelief.

“I will,” he admits, smiling at you. The gesture has you soften a bit, your muscles losing their previous tension, because come on– if he’s smiling at you like that, there’s no way the news could be bad– but before you get a chance to pry him about it, the ring above the door makes a sound and your eyes trace the figures of two girls, both a bit older than you, smiling at someone in particular.

And that someone isn’t you– of course, why would anyone smile at their server, am I right? – that someone is Nakamoto Yuta, the man sitting in front of you, and you’re already familiar enough with the two girls to know what’s about to happen next.

See, you are aware that Yuta is attractive. Hell, you blushed under his gaze when you met him in this diner for the very first time, his hair back then raven black, falling into his eyes. You’re painfully aware of the fact that you’re not the only one who finds him beautiful, but there’s something about the very obvious gazes and giggles the girls who frequent the diner send to him that has your stomach turn, making you see red and feel very obvious green, and no matter what you do or try to tell to yourself, you can’t battle the feeling out of your veins.

The scenario is one you’ve seen before– the girls giggle out as they arrive, sharing a knowing look, before they pass the pult you two are standing behind, sending very obvious looks to Yuta as they reach for the table in the corner. They greet him with their soft, honey voices, they say “Hi Yuta!”, because he’s known around the town– everybody knows the name of the rising band’s lead singer, everybody wants to take a glimpse of him, shoot him a flirtatious smile, because once he makes it big, you can tell yourself you knew him, he knew you, he looked at you and said hi back. Yuta looks at them and grins, sends them a wink, greets them with his raspy voice that says “Hi ladies,”, and it makes your stomach growl, it makes your gaze harden, but most importantly, you feel acid on your tongue when the man in front of you sends them his usual wink.

Clearing your throat as all goes exactly how you remember and expect it to go, you watch as Yuta looks back at you with an innocent smile, not really minding that he told you you were his pretty girl just last week, not really caring that now, his actions have very different consequences. Back when you were uselessly pining over him, you knew your jealousy was foolish– you didn’t really have a reason to feel possessive over the man, because he was very clearly single. Now, things have changed, though, and you kind of expected his behavior to alter around the girls– the girls that are a few years older than you, a few inches taller than you, a bit more mature and a bit more pretty.

“Something’s wrong?” he asks you, face coy and feline-like. You glare at him, knowing he’s aware of what you’re implying, but still, he does nothing to apologize as he only giggles at you and leans in, pecking your lips.

“Everything’s peachy,” you mumble, shaking your head as you take the menus from the counter, ready to serve the customers.

As you’re about to exit the pult and pass your boyfriend, he grabs your wrist and spins you so you face him, making you watch as he downs the last remains of the Coke in his drink, offering you another smile. “I’m gonna get something at the gas station real quick,” he muses, “I’ll wait for you in my car after you get off?”

Sighing, still acting a bit annoyed at his behavior– but knowing, sensing that you already forgave him the moment he spared you a single glance– you nod. The male pulls you closer to him, sending another kiss, this time firmer, to your lips, and if he wasn’t in control of the situation, you know you’d get too lost in the moment, too distracted to do your job– but before you know it, he leans away and stands up from the tall chair, pats your bottom and walks over to the front door.

Watching as he disappears behind the glass, laughing to yourself when he waves at you and blows you a kiss, you shake your head as you walk over to the table with the two girls sitting at it, their mood not as bright as it was before, and with a victorious smirk, you realize, with a hint of joy in your heart, that they’ve been watching the exchange.

The singer waits for you in the parking lot, his figure leaning on the 2007 Volkswagen golf he sometimes drives you home in, and although it’s already 4:45 AM (your shift ends at 4:30, but you have to count up the register and change before you go), you find yourself walking over to him with a pep in your step. The platinum white falls into his eyes as he grins at you, reaching his arms out once you’re close enough, pulling you into a hug.

You and Yuta never really hugged much. You can’t say you dislike the change.

“How was the rest of the shift?” he mumbles into your hair, holding you close to his chest. His arms feel almost possessive, making you feel secure, and something about the whiff you get of his cologne makes your head spin a little when he lets go, watching you as you walk over to the passenger’s side and get into his car.

“It was okay,” you admit, shrugging, “not busy.”

“That’s good to hear,” he nods, getting in as well and fastening his seatbelt, putting the car into reverse and slowly driving out of the parking lot. The radio is turned off at this hour– a thing that rarely happens in Yuta’s car, because he always has to have music playing in the background of his life– and the silence envelopes you in an intimate, comforting atmosphere.

Hence, why you ask the crucial question that’s been bugging you the whole night. “What did you want to talk about earlier?” you mumble, the tone of your voice light and coated with tiredness. You’ve been up the whole day, since you have classes in the mornings, but now that you know there’s something Yuta’s been keeping away from you, you know you wouldn’t be able to fall asleep even if you tried, overthinking making your mind too busy to lull you into the dreamland.

“Are you up for a drive? I’ll tell you and then drop you off at dorms,” he asks, eyes locking with yours for a split second before he focuses back on the road.

Humming, you agree with his idea. You give him some time while he takes the turn that goes out of the city and towards the ring road, tracing his actions with your hazy, half-asleep eyes. The car takes a steady speed, one that’s neither alarming nor too slow, and Yuta’s palm easily takes a hold of your thigh, the steering wheel now being operated with only one of his arms. The affectionate action makes you feel heat in the tips of your ears and on the highest parts of your cheekbones, gaze shifting away from the male next to you towards the empty road. Everything about the things you’ve been dreaming about– the subtle touches, the glances, the pet names– makes you shy away from the man. It’s not that you don’t enjoy it, you would be a liar if you said you didn’t, but still– the novelty of it all still surprises you, keeps you on your feet.

“So,” he starts, clearing his throat a bit before proceeding, “you know how I told you we now practice more often than we used to?” he asks, eyes peering at you with expectation, waiting for you to answer. You offer him a tired hum, too sleepy to really master up anything else, and when it reaches his ears, he takes it as his lead to continue.

“Well, it was for a reason… at our last gig, there were some scouting people, or whatever you call it… and I didn’t tell you before, because it wasn’t certain and I also don’t really know how these things go– y’know, that’s Doyoung’s thing, sorta– and I also didn’t wanna sound silly if things didn’t work out,” he explains, deep voice resonating through the low hum of the engine, keeping you awake, “but things did work out and we got signed to a label.”

Yuta gives you a minute to process the information. He doesn’t say anything for a bit, only waiting for you to reply back to him– to react, in any way, really– and when he doesn’t get any words out of you, he looks at you with a look so fragilely expecting that you almost want to coo at the male and hold him in your arms, tell him you’re just as excited as he is, because it’s the truth, and you are; you just can’t really find the right words to express so right now.

“Wow,” you heave out, half-lidded, something warm and proud bundling up in the depths of your chest, “that’s- that’s awesome,” you mumble, watching as the male next to you visibly relaxes at your response.

“Yeah,” he nods, suddenly more energetic than before, and you chuckle at the realization of just how important your opinion was for him– even though it shouldn’t be, really. It’s always been his dream, and what you think of the matter shouldn’t be any of his concern. “So they heard us play and listened to our songs and stuff, and they said we can record an album somewhere towards the end of the year, but they said we gotta promote ourselves a bit first, so…” he freezes a little, chewing on the bottom of his lip.

Suddenly, he seems nervous again. It’s a strange sight– you don’t often see Nakamoto Yuta so worried about the opinion of other people. You don’t often have the privilege to see the singer so open and so vulnerable, so easy to break. It only happens with stuff important to him, you think– the band is always his priority, and you’re more than happy that he’s finally getting the recognition he deserves and strives for. Hand slowly reaching for the one that’s resting on your thigh, you interlock your fingers with him and squeeze his palm in a reassuring manner, as if to tell him that he doesn’t have to be afraid, that you’re his biggest supporter, that you’re always here for all the news– good or bad.

“So…?” you prob him.

“So,” he clears his throat, smiling at you when he gets reassured, “we’re going to tour this one festival. It’s only for a couple of weeks, and it’s around the country, so we don’t have to fly out and all, but… I’ll be out of the city for a while, is what I’m saying.”

The confession makes your stomach churn in fear. Suddenly, you’re painfully aware of Yuta’s worry about talking to you about the topic. Somehow, you understand him completely. Ever since you met Yuta, you haven’t gone more than three days without seeing each other. You two are like puzzle pieces that fit together perfectly, always searching for the other pair when it’s not in its place by your side. Your relationship is very fresh, very new, and although you know your bond is stronger than the distance, you can’t help but feel a bit of worry in the tips of your fingertips, in the pit of your stomach. And also, there’s this silly feeling– small, but yet so overbearing– that comes with the image of not being close to Yuta for weeks, of not being able to see him every day and find the light in his eyes to get you through the week. There’s this silly feeling of missing him, of yearning for him to be there with you every minute and every second of the day, and hell, sometimes you miss him even when he’s away for a day, and you don’t know what you’ll do if it’s gonna be weeks, a big, nasty thought that’s both unreal and too realistic prickling your brain– how will you even survive when he’s not by your side? Without Yuta, you’re nothing. No one.

Still, you’re not about to ruin this for him. You’re not about to act sad, or act disappointed, because you’re not, at the end of the day. At the end of it all, you’re aware that this has always been his dream. You are happy for him– you’re ecstatic. And that’s exactly how you’re gonna react.

“That’s awesome, Yuta,” you muse, and you’re glad the tone of your voice stays genuine, “that’s big news. I’m so happy for you,” you say, seeing as the male next to you breaks out into a boyish grin, excitement spreading into every inch of his body, fingers tugging at yours to bring your interlocked hands into his lap.

“It’s gonna be over soon and then I’m right back by your side,” he hums, and you shake your head at him.

“I’ll wait however long it takes,” you disagree with his statement, “don’t you worry. I’m gonna cheer for you every night.”

The road in front of you signals a turn back into the city, Yuta’s car naturally and smoothly driving back towards the center of life. You subtly hear your partner talk excitedly about all his dreams and all the visions he has of the festival tour– how he’s going to have the time of his life, how the boys will make it big, how he can’t wait to show everyone what they’re made of– and although you’re happy and content, the buzzing excitement of his voice does nothing to keep you awake in the late hour. You feel a peck pressed to the back of your hand, your sleep-filled eyes meeting with his, when he shakes his head at you in disbelief.

“We’re almost at yours now,” he hums, “I’ll wake you up in front of the building.”

Smiling, you nod. Somehow, you drift off with thoughts of full crowds cheering for Yuta, with thoughts wishing for him to make it just as big as he’s always dreamt of. You battle your own worries away, telling them you’re silly for thinking that things will change between the two of you when he’s away, writing them off to be your own unreasonable anxieties.

Things won’t change, you repeat to yourself, and if so, only for the better.

III. a little bit of California with a little bit of London sky

Life has stilled into a pleasant, comfortable routine for the two of you. You admired just how easily Yuta fit into your daily schedule, just how easily he managed to get used to the cycle of your days, and the knowledge makes you that much sadder to let him go. You go to class from Monday to Friday, snatching mostly the morning ones this semester, which is a thing you’ve grown to be appreciative of, since it means you have time off in the afternoon for your shifts and hanging out with Yuta. On Friday evenings, you take the night shift and have your boyfriend drive you back to dorms when you’re off, and on Sundays, you and Yuta go out to eat in your favorite sushi restaurant downtown as he talks to you about the events of the whole week. He talks your ear off with his excitement, sometimes not even giving you a chance to speak yourself– which he apologizes for on most days, and you’re not mad at him, because truly, you understand– telling you about how practice is going and how their new manager, a thing they haven’t had before, is keeping everything in check for when the festival tour happens.

You went to listen to them practice one more time. You don’t really dare to go close to the garage anymore, since Doyoung has not grown warmer to your presence, but you still enjoyed yourself as you realized that their mutual passion only made them perform better.

And with days going by slowly like this, you almost don’t notice when it’s time for Yuta to leave, and suddenly, you’re standing in the crowd of the first show of their first festival tour– the thing that’s supposedly going to make their career take off– as they play songs you know like the back of your hand by now for thousands of people around you in your hometown. Something about the first stop of the tour being your hometown made you feel a bit unsettled– isn’t it always the other way around? Aren’t you supposed to reunite with your lover while he plays his last show back home? But then you realize that it’s a festival, and not their own tour– they aren’t as big to have one themselves yet– and you’re understanding of the logistics. They can’t all play the last show in their hometown.

You brought your roommate Aeri along with you to the show, both of your outfits matching in shades of black and red as you make your way towards the front row, making sure you have good enough of a view to see your boyfriend on the stage. There’s a nervous pep in your step when you wait for the band to arrive, the knowledge that your roommate has never seen Yuta before; you wonder if this is how he felt when he was introducing you to his bandmates all those weeks before, and if so, why he didn’t tell you about it.

Murmurs of the people in the crowd fill your ears, and you watch them with a horrifying realization that you don’t seem like you belong here– so out of the general aesthetic of the crowd, making you feel not cool enough, not punk enough, not good enough to be by the side of someone like Yuta– but before you get a chance to really vocalize your thoughts, there’s a sound of a drum coming from the front of the stage that makes you turn your head forward, watching as Mark grins at the crowd with something you’d call a nervous, yet excited smile, starting off their gig with an up-beat song.

“They’re kinda good!” you hear Aeri scream into your ear, and something about the compliment makes you relax. This is a good thing, you think– she doesn’t hate it, which means she probably won’t hate the members of the band themselves either.

Once Yuta walks on the stage with his guitar slung over his neck, playing the chords you’d be able to name by memory– having your boyfriend repeat them to himself for a few good minutes once when you came over to his house and he was practicing the song by himself– and even though you wouldn’t be able to play it, you’re sure you’d recognize this song even if you were woken up in the middle of the night, slightly sleepy and still out of it. The crowd cheers, and you find yourself smiling in a sense of euphoria.

Jumping around with the rest of the population, you get lost in the music. Their set plays out for a good hour and a half, combining cover songs and their own originals, the sun setting with the sound of their eclectic guitars. There’s always something about concerts that makes you lost in time, not really register the way it flows by and leaves you unknowing in the spiral. You didn’t even realize it– you don’t think you even fully registered the experience of seeing Yuta play live on a stage for the first time– and it’s over and you’re catching your breath, feeling your ears ring from the noise that’s been there for the last hour or so and now isn’t, everything around you muffled and a little bit hazy.

“Let’s go, we gotta catch them in the back,” you hurriedly mumble into Aeri’s ear, the girl following you with excited steps as you drag her around the crowded space. Yuta told you he is leaving as soon as the festival ends so their van can drive over to the next city as soon as possible, and since they were the second to last to go on, you feel a threatening bubble growing in your chest.

There’s a group of girls waving at the band leaving off stage, and you pray that you can somehow catch Yuta before he has to walk over to their van.

You catch a glimpse of the platinum white bangs when you jump around and try to see them, and as your eyes meet, the singer breaks out into a smile before he turns towards the rest of the band, waving at them and telling them that they can go and that he’ll find his way back in a bit. The gesture warms your heart, a sense of relief settling onto your shoulders.

“You were amazing!” you holler as you get towards the metal gate that keeps the artists away from the crowd, your body getting into contact with the cold material as you throw your hands around your boyfriend’s neck, grasping him harder than ever before. His arms reach around your waist, squeezing out all of the air in your lungs, as a laugh bubbles out of his chest and makes you feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside.

“I was singing the songs for you, babygirl,” he hums into your ear, heat rising to your cheeks at the sentiment. When you pull away visibly flustered, Yuta laughs at your face, making you swat his arm in an act of playfulness. “You must be Aeri!” the man notices your roommate tagging along, smiling at her with his welcoming, warm smile.

The girl nods at him, greeting him almost a little too politely. “Yeah! I heard a lot about you, so I’m glad Y/N wasn’t lying, y’know,” she giggles, and you roll your eyes.

“See, I would never lie to you,” you snicker, and as you put your arm on the metal gate to steady yourself, you feel warmth cover it as Yuta’s own palm envelopes it in a sweet gesture that still surprises you whenever it so effortlessly happens, but also puts you at ease all in one minute.

“I liked the drummer,” Aeri muses, making Yuta laugh at her.

“I’ll let him know,” he salutes, and with that, he turns back to you with wide eyes, a thousand glimmering stars behind them making you admire just how beautiful and full of life the man in front of you suddenly looks. It tugs at your heartstrings– it’s only the first show and it’s already gone so well, he was born for this, you think, and even though it’s difficult, you suddenly feel like letting him go will be so much easier after the sight, because you’ll be doing it with the knowledge that it’s the best possible thing for him, something you would never be able to give to him if he was stuck with you back home.

“It went exactly how we wanted it to go, it was- it was so great,” he sighs, the crowd behind you suddenly disappearing and grouping around the front of the stage again, signaling that the next band is about to play and finish off tonight’s stop, “thank you for coming.”

“I wouldn’t miss it, you know,” you shrug, gazing into his eyes. There’s a lot of noise around you– the sound of the people talking and cheering behind your back, the beat of the drums, the shuffling of feet– yet, you feel like in this moment, everything else tuned out, everything around you disappeared for a second and left only you and Yuta in the big place, eyes and hearts for each other.

“I’m gonna–”

“Don’t say it,” you hush him, chewing on the inside of your cheek in nerves. You don’t want to hear it– you don’t want to hear him say it, because then, it would make it feel more real, more raw. You wanted to name the sensation when it comes to you, not have it in your brain before you even get a chance to get it, but Yuta shakes his head at you and sighs.

“I have to say it.”

“No, you don’t,” you giggle, amidst a little sadly.

“I do,” he nods, “because it’s true. And you deserve to hear it face to face, not over the phone,” he says, and you heave out a sigh at his words.

“Fine,” you grant him permission. Get it over with.

He shakes his head at you in disbelief, his hair bouncing in the motion. It makes you want to reach over and brush back the damp locks, put the wet strands into their place, but you don’t– and why you stop yourself is a question you don’t get to ask. “I’m gonna miss you,” he completes, and you nod.

Tears prickle at the edges of your eyes, and you promised yourself you’re not going to cry when Yuta goes– something about it feeling childish, too overly dramatic for a fact that he’s gonna be away only for a couple of weeks– and that’s exactly why you didn’t want him to say it, why you didn’t want to hear the words before he’s miles away and talking to you through the phone, because crying seems foolish in this moment. It seems stupid, dumb, dramatic, because tonight’s a good night– one that should be celebrated– and you feel like you’re ruining it.

“I’m gonna miss you more,” you muse, choking through the tears, battling away the heat in the corners of your eyes and begging that no tears actually fall down your cheeks– you could handle tearing up, but crying was a bit too much– but when the man softly scoffs at your state and brings you towards his chest, you feel them escape and fall freely, wetting his sweaty shirt more as you hold him closer, trying to hide into his body.

Who knows? Maybe if you hug him hard enough, you’ll be able to fit into his skin so he could bring you with him. Maybe you won’t have to be apart.

“Don’t cry, you dummy,” he sighs as you push yourself away from him, trying to laugh through the pain that’s hitting you in your gut right now, praying hard you can ease the situation, “I’ll be back in no time,” he says, wiping at your cheeks with the pads of his thumbs– one of the only fingers that aren’t calloused with the force he plays on the guitar– the action so tender you swallow in on yourself.

His voice is as soft as it can get over the loud music, and you nod at him, trapping your bottom lip between your teeth so you can stop it from trembling. “Come here,” he hums, tugging you into him once more, but before you get a chance to hide your face into his chest, the male leans towards you and kisses you on your lips, a firm, sweet contact with the chapped surface.

When you pull away, he goes in for another, a starved man wanting more, and you try to remember the imprint of his lips on yours so you don’t miss it on lonely nights, so you can remind yourself of it whenever he’s away.

There’s an arm on his shoulder when you pull away from him, a tall figure tugging him backwards, and before you have a chance to register what’s happening, you recognise Doyoung telling your boyfriend that it’s time to go, we gotta get on the road soon, and you’re left aimless and lost in the crowd, the hollowing feeling in your stomach only deepening once Yuta nods at his bandmate and turns to you again, smiling.

“Take care of yourself, okay?” you tell him, hating the fact that you can barely see him over the tears, but not really caring enough to try to stop them now.

“I will,” he reassures you, hand coming up to your hair to pet it, a soft laugh escaping his throat. “I gotta go now, baby.”

“Okay,” you nod.

“Okay,” he repeats, taking a few steps back from you. You watch him, his figure skipping away from you, when he turns and hollers over the loud set. “Love you!”

You don’t get a chance to react before he disappears out of your sight. You don't even get a chance to say it back after hearing it from him for the first time, and something about the fact brings countless worries to your chest. Still, you chant to yourself– nothing’s gonna change. And if so, only for the better.

IV. no matter where you go, somebody follows

Navigating through the foreign city with the hood pulled over your head, the plastic bag full of take-out hanging loosely from your hold, you squint at the buildings around you and sigh in relief with the recognition of your surroundings– you didn’t get lost, despite your biggest concerns, and you’re at the parking lot behind the venue, multiple buses parked right in front of you. Jogging through the space, your sneakers hitting the pavement in a sound you find satisfactory and calming to your nerves, you reach one of the older buses parked in the corner of the parking lot, the windows dark and the vehicle painted in a chipping, rusty white color. Still, it’s a tour bus– an upgrade from what Yuta and his band departed in from your hometown just three weeks ago– and you feel a sense of pride swell inside of your chest at the sight.

Yuta’s band has been growing successfully and steadily– just like his new manager thought would happen. Their songs are catchy, their fanbase is growing in amount, their exposure is getting bigger on social media and some of their songs even play on the radio. Sure, you wouldn’t call them radio hits– it’s not like your parents or your professors would recognize the band or know the lyrics if you showed them the tune– but it’s still something, and even that something feels tremendously big in your eyes.

The decision of skipping school for a few days and coming up to visit Yuta on his tour was spontaneous. It came to you after you missed him particularly much one night, going to sleep without his call– he apologized a day later, telling you he’d been too busy to talk– and after you counted up the money you saved up from working at the diner, you realized you can afford going on a little getaway to meet up with your lover. Yuta was delighted to hear about your plan and even got you a free ticket to the festival, and after watching him and his band play, you decided to get McDonald’s as a form of a late night snack.

You expected your boyfriend to follow you, but he didn’t. It was okay, though– he was probably tired. Traveling both gives and takes a lot from you, and while Yuta was given a thousand opportunities over the past few days, his energy has been slowly receding. You understand– as his girlfriend, it’s your job to.

Knocking on the door of the bus– and hearing the ruckus coming from the inside, making you gaze at the darkened windows in suspicion– you get inside after the driver opens the door for you and nods at you in acknowledgement. The tour bus is kind of old, again– Yuta isn’t at a point in his career yet where he could afford the latest gadgets– but although the lights aren’t neon and the space isn’t big and modern, it still serves its purpose. It has a functioning bathroom in the front, with a surprisingly working lock on the door, and it also has a kitchen area that’s big enough to host a couple of people behind the efficiently placed table. The bus has a corridor with bunk beds on the sides and a small bedroom in the very back of it all, which is used by their manager Sangyeon.

Usually, the bus stinks a bit. You don’t really know what it is, but you can’t really get the bad smell out no matter how hard you try. Now, though, the bus stinks even worse– and although the smell is a tad bit different than the one you’re used to (even though you’ve only been here for 2 days, with the next day being the morning of your departure back home, to your ordinary life), you can’t quite put your finger on the cause.

You walk over to the kitchen area, the plastic bag full of food still loosely placed in your grasp, and the noise gets even louder now, the laughter and the loud music over the speakers mixing together in a way that has your head pounding similarly than to what you experience when you stand front-row during the festivals, and when you put your head through the entry to the small area, the sight in front of you has you gasping. There’s a bit more people in the tour bus than you’d expect– you mentally count the heads, realizing there are four unfamiliar faces in the small crowd– and that’s what initially makes you shy away and want to hide. See, your experience with Yuta’s band mates wasn’t the brightest– that’s why meeting another potential friend group of your boyfriend has you shrinking away in worry.

“You’re back already?” Mark asks you, your presence noticed by the man first. You nod at him, offering him a tight-lipped smile as you hold up the plastic bag in the air, showing him its contents. He smiles at you, but doesn’t pay you much attention after, instead focusing back on the commotion in front of him.

Disappointment washes over you when you realize your presence hasn’t been acknowledged by your boyfriend– mainly because everyone else at least offered you a nonchalant nod of a head, Doyoung included– and that’s when you sigh to yourself and move closer to the small table, ready to put the food in the middle and try to join the conversation. You’re taken by surprise when you realize it’s harder to find an empty space on the crowded surface, bottles of beer, shot glasses and a bottle of tequila settled all around, a potato chip bag thrown in the corner, almost falling off. An ashtray in the middle of it all, almost full to the brim, something white and messy lined up on the other side of the table, folded arms falling to the surface with a loud thud that have you snap your head around and watch Yuta as he settles his chin on them and closes his eyes and then slowly opens them in a hazy blink, pupils almost as big as his whole iris.

This has you stopping in your tracks, this has you slightly wake up in a cold sweat, making you too aware and alert of the situation.

Your eyes scan the surroundings again. The four men at the table seem a bit older than your boyfriend, and you’re sure you saw them on stage a few hours ago, playing their own set. The bottles of alcohol are almost empty, the ashtray filled with cigarettes, your gaze finding the source of the weird, sweet, yet earthy smell when you see a bag of dried weeds loosely thrown behind a beer bottle, rolling papers settled on the side. Finding the platinum blonde head again, the line of white substance close to Yuta’s elbow, chills run down your spine when the male looks at you with big eyes, his smile slightly out of it, yet amazingly satisfied.

Suddenly, you’re terrified. You’re scared and afraid, and you wonder how things could have gotten so out of hand in the time you were gone. Surely your trip to McDonald’s didn’t take more than a few minutes, or did it?

“What’s all this?” you ask Yuta, your voice hush, yet loud enough to be heard over the music.

“What?” he asks, voice coated in a blissful sweetness that has your hair stand up, goosebumps rising all over your body. Frustrated, you run your hand through your hair, seeing that your interaction doesn’t have many viewers comforting you only the slightest.

“What’s all this, Yuta?” you ask, pointing everywhere around the place, but mainly to the substances found on the small, dark-wooden table.

“We’re just having fun, baby,” he says lazily, grinning at you from under his eyelashes. Were the circumstances given to you different, you’d admire his features– his flushed cheeks and his strangely starry-glazed eyes, the satisfied and comfortable smirk playing with his flush lips. But now, you feel shaken-up; a strange kind of terror you’ve never experienced before, and frankly speaking, one you wouldn’t imagine experiencing even in your worst nightmares.

“This is fun to you?” you ask, scoffing. “Is- what happened here?” you keep dumbly asking, not finding any more coherent thoughts in your brain that could be expressed by words. Somehow, the whole situation is painted right in front of you, yet, you don’t think you have it in you to describe it or admit it to your brain.

“Why are you freaking out?” he asks, reaching out one of his hands to you to hold your hand, but you shake it off with a different sense of vigor.

Why are you freaking out? Is he out of his mind? Does he not understand the consequences of his actions; the full implications of everything that’s going on right in this moment? Are you overreacting? You find it hard to think that’s the case.

You scoff at him, not really believing you’re in this situation right now. Something in you feels a bit shameful to be acting like this, now that you’ve been called out on it. You’re in a battle of opinions– one side telling you to drop it and let him live his life, because he’s an adult and he knows what he’s doing, the other one shouting at you that this is not okay and you need some space to breathe and get away for a second. Yuta said he was having fun, but to you, none of this was even close to funny.

“You’re unbelievable,” you say, moving away from him and sending him a gaze you hope signifies the turmoil of emotions on your insides right now, your hands shaking as you cross your arms on your chest. You’re not met with the desired reaction, though. Somehow, Yuta makes the matters even worse as he scoffs at you, shaking his head and pointing it towards the group as he mutters something under his breath.

“And you’re being unreasonable.”

The argument makes your blood cold, your eyes widen. You’re being unreasonable? In your eyes, you’re being ignored. You’re being put on the very end of the ranking of his priorities, and you’d understand it if the first one was held up by his career, his dreams– you’re not willing to battle for that place with alcohol and drugs, though. You’re simply not.

Storming out of the area, suddenly feeling like there’s no air in your lungs, no oxygen in the whole planet Earth, you run through the small and crowded place, making eye contact with no one as you run out without a plan. You bump into a slender figure as you plan on escaping the vehicle, right in the place where the stairs down are located, crossing your paths– one going in and the other one out. The person smells of cigarette smoke and when you look up to find a raven-haired boy staring at you with a glare, the plan of leaving sounds even more urgent in your head.

“Where are you running off to?” Doyoung asks, voice laced with indifference.

“I don’t want to talk right now,” you snap at him, trying to push through the small corridor past him so you can get out and get some air.

“Saw something you didn’t like?” he mocks, laughing at you.

“Doyoung-”

“Those places aren’t for college kids like you, Y/N,” he snarls, huffing out air as you push against his chest to get him out of the way, “this is how this world works. Get out before it gets you too, kid.”

V. you're the only one I'll miss when I'm gone

The coldness of the liquid spilling down your throat makes you cool down noticeably, your fingers working on the lace around your waist to loosen up the apron you’ve been wearing for the last couple of hours. You sit on one of the tall bar stools, facing the diner with your back, as you scroll through your phone and look through all your social media. You’re working another one of your night shifts, the diner surprisingly empty as you allow yourself some time to just sit around and do nothing– it’s not like you have anything else to do or any customers to serve in the first place.

Checking your messages– and finding none, much to your dismay– you move over to other apps, opening up Instagram with a swift tap of your finger, eyes tracing the posts appearing on your phone screen. There are some from your favorite music artists and some from your friends from high school, and you’d usually find an Instagram story from your boyfriend’s band right at the very beginning of the little reel on the top as well, but ever since they got signed to a label, their page is hands of their manager Sangyeon, so the account is no longer as active and as unserious as it was when Yuta was the one behind the posts.

Scrolling down a little, your eyes zero in on a post of the mentioned account– a carousel of professionally-looking pictures of the band on the stage, taken from multiple angles and in perfect quality, colors most likely edited and lightning adjusted so they look as nice as they can. You were in the crowd just a week ago, and although you only left your visit recently, you already miss seeing Yuta in real life, playing and talking to you, existing by your side.

You haven’t heard from him much since the day you left. Still shaken up from the sight in front of you that one night, the band’s manager let you sleep in the only bedroom of the tour bus before you took off to the station in the early morning, having Yuta groggily press a kiss to your forehead as a goodbye, telling you to stay safe as you travel, before he went back to sleep. The events of your last night with him went unnoticed and unmentioned and you’re not exactly sure if it’s for the best– you two barely call nowadays, since your schedules don’t align, and it’s kind of hard to talk about it over a text, especially when the conversations are short and dry, like they’ve been for the last few days.

Zooming in on the picture, fingers pinching the screen to take a closer look on Yuta’s face, you chew on the inside of your cheek, letting your thoughts run a thousand miles an hour. What did you do wrong? Or was he just busy?

That must be it. He’s in a band. A touring, rising band. He must be busy.

“What are you staring at?” you hear a male voice coming from your right, making you jump in your seat. Eyes landing on Jaechan, your coworker from the kitchen, you watch as he throws a damp kitchen towel to the counter and takes a seat on the chair next to you with a sigh. You shrug. The male takes a peek over your shoulder, craning up his neck to get a closer look, a hum escaping his throat at the sight. “Is that your boyfriend? I heard he’s in a band.”

You find yourself humming in agreement at his question. Jaechan nods at you in acknowledgement, resting his head into his palms, eyes zeroing on your stoic face. “Did something happen between the two of you? You don’t sound too happy talking about him right now.”

Sighing, you put the phone down, the screen still on and displaying the professional picture their photographer took, showing Yuta with his platinum blonde hair damp and all over the place, the singer in the middle of a song gripping his microphone tightly, veins protruding due to the notes he’s singing on his sweat-covered neck. Once again, you find yourself shrugging. “I don’t know. He’s just… not really talking to me?”

“Did you two have a fight?”

“No,” you shake your head, “not really. It’s not like he’s not talking talking to me, it’s just that he’s not doing it as often as he used to before,” you explain, chewing on your bottom lip as you tear your eyes off the picture and glue them to your companion instead, seeing as the older male hums, pressing his lips into a tight line.

“He must be busy,” you say, not really knowing who you’re saying this for. Is it to prove to Jaechan that your relationship is completely fine, that there’s nothing shifting in the dynamic you had with Yuta, or is it to reassure yourself, try to manifest the thought into life? You’re not quite sure at this point.

“Well, he texted you a lot more often before,” he points out, “how busy can a singer really be, you know what I mean?”

“There must be something that’s taking up so much of his time,” you sigh, the male in front of you scoffing and rolling his eyes at your naivety.

Jaechan argues with you, and something about his sentence makes your mood even gloomier, your composure shake further. “I mean, what does a singer even do? He plays a gig in the evening and then he’s lazing off the whole day, it’s not like he’s recording an album or something, do you feel me?”

To this, you shrug. What does Jaechan even know about this? He’s never dated anyone in a band before. He’s never been in one either, so he can’t know how this life works. Maybe he’s just jealous that your significant other is famous and his is not (because it’s non-existent, just for the record), and that’s what’s making him say all these things.

“What do you know?” you scoff.

Jaechan looks at you with a softer look in his eyes now, the black bangs falling into his forehead serving as a sort of a curtain when he smiles sadly at his next words. “Enough to see when a guy gets bored, Y/N. If he had time before, he just can’t be assed now. I’d hate to see your heart break over him,” he says, each word like a sharp knife to your heart, a stinging pain erupting into each crevice of your body. Your mouth opens to reply to him, to argue that he is clueless, he is snide, he is acting like a know-it-all, when the bell above the entrance rings and a small group of teenagers enters the diner.

Before you get a chance to stand up from your place to re-tie your apron and serve them, Jaechan, who doesn’t usually serve– since cooking is his job around here– beats you to it and pats your shoulder as he goes. “I’ll get it.”

You’re left sitting at the bar, eyes bearing into the screen of your phone, gazing at Yuta on the other side of the country, almost begging him with your eyes to text, to call, to do something, before the screen darkens and your phone eventually locks, the time running out already.

VI. and he holds me like a woman

Prepared for another night of staring at the ceiling, not even the sound of Aeri’s snoring present to lull you to sleep with its monotonicity, since the girl went out and stayed over at her (as she calls him) sneaky link’s place, you settle into your bed sheets and pull your blanket close to your neck. Unlocking your phone and scrolling through social media, planning to do so until your eyes are droopy enough that you don’t have much time to overthink in the late hours of the night, waiting for sleep to take you, your finger moves through all the different apps, begging for your brain to stay occupied. You have to treat yourself like you’d treat a little child while trying to get them to sleep– except you don’t watch Cocomelon, instead you settle on the latest episode of your favorite podcast– and it starts working eventually, until you’re woken up with a knock to your door, cursing at the person behind the wall for disturbing your routine, because now, you’ll have to do it all over again.

Sighing, you stand up from your bed, lazily walking over to the door of your room– sometimes, you despise the fact that your dorm layout looks like the corridor of a hospital wing, with rooms all over the hall and a common kitchen and a bathroom at the very end, since the living space for you and your roommate Aeri is a 5x6 square meters with little to no storage room– but this time, you thank the god for this fact, since it means that nothing is too far out of reach and nothing can get lost in the small space. You think of whoever might be behind the door– is it Aeri? You doubt it’s Aeri. She usually doesn’t back out of a hook up, and even if she did, she’d text you about it before– she has her own set of keys as well, so she wouldn’t just knock.

Is it your dorm mate? Yeji from three rooms down the corridor sometimes comes over and asks you if she can use your frying pan– since the ones in the common kitchen suck and are hardly ever clean– so maybe it’s her. However, you’re not quite sure why she’d want to cook something so late in the evening.

Shrugging, deciding that you’re not gonna dwell on the thought much longer and instead look for yourself, you unlock the door (you learned to do that every night after Ningning, the freshman that lives across the corridor from you, once stumbled into your room at 3 in the morning, drunk out of her mind, because she confused her left and right) and crack it open, shock overtaking you as you recognize the figure casually standing on the other side of the wall.

“What are you doing here?” you gasp, the man with platinum blonde hair snickering at your parted lips and big eyes.

“Visiting,” he shrugs, “I missed you.”

Taking a few seconds to process the situation, you stay standing in your place, a metaphorical loading bar appearing in the middle of your forehead. Yuta shakes his head at you in disbelief, taking a step closer towards you. “Aren’t you gonna invite me in?”

“I- I am, but-” you stutter, taking a step away from the doorway, watching as your boyfriend walks in as if he owned this place, “who let you in? We can’t have visitors after 10 PM,” you mumble, suddenly aware of the fact that you could get in trouble.

You close the door after yourself and lock it– old habits die hard– as you watch the male giggle at your shaken composure. “The doorkeeper recognized me,” he announces, “I just had to say I have a girlfriend I haven’t seen in a while living here and he let me right in,” he shrugs.

Humming, you play with your fingers as you walk over to your bed. “So you’re like, famous famous now, huh?”

“Not that famous,” he sighs, “but quite a few people know me now.”

“So I’m dating a rockstar,” you joke, taking a seat on the uncomfortable mattress, watching as the male follows you and invites himself into the sheets.

“Something like that.”

A smile overtakes your features at that, and your room breaks into silence. Something about the quiet makes your skin scatter with goosebumps, the discomfort of his stare making you almost hate the fact that he’s here now, after not talking to you properly for a couple of weeks, but at the same time, you know you don’t really hate it. You love it, actually– the fact that he came to surprise you in the middle of the night, the fact that he’s here, the fact that he thought of you, spared you the time of his day. You love it and you love him and the fact that he came back to you. He came back for you. Only you. That sounds like a prize, doesn’t it?

Still, you feel a bit of a distance in between the two of you, and you can’t believe the fact that he feels further despite being closer in space. Maybe it’s because you can’t blame his lack of words for him being busy now– he’s right in front of you, paying you his full attention.

“How long are you staying?” you ask, picking at the skin of your cuticles.

Yuta averts his gaze from you, looking almost shameful at his reply. “I have to leave tomorrow afternoon,” he whispers, “I left suddenly, but we gotta get back on the road.”

You hum at that, not offering him a vocal reply– you don’t have any words to say to him anyway. What is there to say about a fact you can’t change? You only have to accept it.

“We only have a couple more stops to go. It will take another three weeks or so, and I’m back with you,” he says, this time locking his eyes with you in a sincere gaze, “I promise.”

The sentence has you gazing at your hands, clasped in your lap, nodding. Holding eye contact with him is suddenly hard when you feel just how far away he is from you, in another world, in other circles– and you can’t help but not see yourself fitting those, you can’t help but hate the fact that you’re so far away from everything that completes him as a person now. Maybe you’re a burden now– maybe you’re a nuisance, a baggage he has to carry even though he doesn’t have to, but keeps holding on to just because of a promise.

You remember how you chanted to yourself– believed– that nothing’s gonna change, and if so, only for the better. But you’re not so sure it came true, looking at everything now. And you do admit, you feel a little silly. Both for making the promise to yourself, and both for feeling so defeated when your world is shifting. Because things did change, and you should’ve expected it, and for Yuta, they did change for the better. He’s chasing his dream and everything’s coming out well for him. You should be happy.

You should be happy that he’s texting you less, talking to you less, having less time for you. Because that’s proof of him succeeding, after all. You just wish you could’ve been there to witness it with him.

“It must be so hard for you,” Yuta suddenly hums, leaning closer to you and wiping your cheeks. You haven’t even realized you were crying– you failed to keep your emotions in control– but instead of pushing him away and not showing him just how much the distance hurts you, you only hold him closer, crying into his chest.

His hands caress your hair, smoothing down the strands and providing you comfort, your body folding into his hold. He lays you both on the bed and tugs the blanket over you, strong arms shielding you from the pain. “Are you- are you having fun at least?” you ask, hiccuping through the sobs.

“I am,” he hums, and something about the sentence comforts you, making you fail to address everything you’ve witnessed when you came to visit him and just how much it made you worry, “wish you were there with me, but I know it’s hard. We just gotta hold on and get through this, and it will only get easier as we go, alright?”

You hum, fists bunching up the fabric of his thin black shirt. “Promise me to hold on for me, pretty girl? It’s gonna be okay. I swear.”

Another silent sob accompanied by an eager nod, hands letting go of his shirt and instead sneaking around his waist, nose burying into his chest intaking his scent. “I promise. It’s hard, but the thought of you having fun and chasing your dream comforts me.”

“That’s my sweet girl,” he hums, smoothing down your hair, “now stop crying. There’s nothing to be sad about.”

Nodding, you try your best to relax. He’s right– you were being unreasonable. Silly, even. Everything’s okay and everything will turn out just fine, you just gotta hold on for a few more weeks. Once Yuta’s back, your relationship will go back to normal and things will get better.

Leaning your head back, you press a kiss to his lips. He holds you to his chest, deepening the contact of his mouth with yours, wiping the last tears off your cheeks and placing pecks all over your face. When his lips find their way back to yours, his kisses are deeper, more firm, experience making him smoothly slip his tongue into your mouth to battle with yours, passion dripping off the muscle and tasting just like honey.

He makes your heart race, just like he did when he first kissed you in his garage, and when his lips smoothly travel down your neck, placing bites and kitten licks to smooth the area after, you let him work his magic. You relax under his touches, you let him unravel you from your clothes, big hands testing flesh, calloused fingers pressing into all the right places. It feels amazing. It feels rewarding– and even though you’ve never done this before, you’re glad he’s your first. It’s good to look back at your first time when it’s done with someone you love– someone that’s admired, older, but still so fond of you. You feel beautiful with his hushed compliments, whispered promises. It’s like you’re running on a high, and you’re not sure if and when you’re ever gonna get back down.

You ache a little when you wake up for your morning class the day after. Throwing on his shirt you find on the floor, taking a seat next to him on the bed and brushing back his disheveled hair, his arm finds yours and tugs you back towards him.

“Stay,” he hums.

“I can’t,” you reply, “I have class in a few,” you explain, pressing a tender kiss to his cheek.

He sighs, dissatisfied, but lets you go. When he chants a goodbye at you as you close your door after with the knowledge that he won’t be there when you come home in the evening, you chew on the inside of your cheek with the crushing feeling of living in a different world than he does. And it shouldn’t matter to you– because he loves you and showed you so last night– but still, it keeps annoyingly eating you up from the insides.

He’s in a rising punk band, and you… you have to get to class.

VII. he used to sing me sweet melodies

The news hit you on a Thursday afternoon, on your way to dorms after your last class of the day. You feel exhausted, both mentally and physically, and so you decide to take the bus– the journey isn’t long, but you don’t feel like walking, and so you slung your pained body onto one of the free seats after pressing your travel card against the terminal to pay for the ride.

Fingers searching through your tote bag, a small sense of victory filling your veins when you finally find your phone in the mess of things, you grip the device and unlock it, deciding to search through social media to pass time and let yourself dissociate.

A flood of uninteresting posts flashes through your vision as you absent-mindedly scroll through your feed, unfunny memes making you roll your eyes at the absurdity of the jokes, political discourse just making you sigh. After a while, posts from Neo zone update pages that you selfishly and amidst a little foolishly followed quite some time ago start appearing one-by-one on your Twitter feed, the face of your boyfriend smiling at you from fan-taken pictures from the last few stops of their festival tour. It’s been three weeks since you last saw Yuta, and even though you’re glad he’s enjoying his life to the fullest, you can’t help but admit to yourself that you oh so desire to have him back home as soon as possible.

One post in particular makes you stop in your tracks, furrowing your eyebrows as your eyes scan over the headline of an article with your boyfriend’s face clearly staring down at you through the screen. It’s not often that Yuta or his band get interviewed– or at least, it wasn’t the standard before, but you heard from him that he did get an interview from one of the local newspapers right after he got signed to an agency– but it seems that after getting interest from the punk scene during the festival, everybody wants to know more about the lead singer and his friends; press included. The existence of the interview itself isn’t what makes you so startled, though– it’s the headline of the article, each word like a sharp knife to your heart, making you more and more confused.

“No, I’m not dating anyone right now.” Neo Zone’s frontman reveals in our latest article, the title reads, your shaky fingers pressing down on the picture to have the text pop up, making you brace yourself for the impact. You know that the press loves to twist words and put statements into people’s mouths, but you don’t really know how those exact words could come out meaning something completely different– your very much taken boyfriend told everyone he is very much single. Do you not deserve to be talked about, after everything? Is he ashamed of you?

Sighing, taking a peek out of the window to see if you’re at your stop yet– you’re not, and you think you have just the right amount of time to read the whole article before you have to get off. And so you do that– eyes quickly skimming through the words, Yuta’s answers transcribed so perfectly you can almost hear his voice saying the words in your head, the essence of him everywhere, making your chest tighten on itself.

The Seoul-based punk band Neo Zone is picking up everyone’s attention as they take over the Warped tour festivals with their ecstatic performances and amazing stage presence. Their sound is like no one else’s, making their fanbase rise quickly, the fastly growing popularity making a lot of questions rise in the heads of the public– one question in particular mostly in the female side of the spectrum.

We met with the frontman, 28-year old Yuta Nakamoto, to ask him a few questions about the band’s slow, but steady journey towards stardom, and also a bit about his personal life. Stay with us to get all the answers to questions you’ve been wondering about!

Eyes only briefly reading over the questions that ask about their journey– since you do know how they got where they are now, being there to witness it all; from band practices on Fridays, Yuta’s worried words at midnight over your night shifts, the songwriting sessions they had with Doyoung, where Yuta would send you pictures of his lyrics, asking for advice from his one and only muse, to them getting signed and going from playing local gigs at bars filled with cigarette smoke to venues filled with thousands of fans, all in the course of a few months. There’s only one thing you’re searching for in this article– although you’d read it all anyways, taking your time to patiently skim over each sentence, cheering Yuta on silently, there’s a thing in particular that makes you so jumpy to get to the bottom of the headline.

Finally, you get to it. You can only imagine the voice of the woman who did this interview with Yuta to be annoying, her eyes sneaky and coy as she asked him the question– but you soon catch yourself and sigh at your antics, at disbelief with what you managed to turn yourself into just for attention of a man that deemed you worthy.

“I’m sure a lot of girls are wondering the same thing, Yuta– especially after seeing you play on stage. I mean, you have an amazing stage presence, one that can’t help but attract people. The public– me included– wants to know: are you dating anyone right now?”

The singer laughs at the question, shrugging to himself. The words don’t take long to come out of his mouth. “No, not at all. With how things have been going for us, it’s been really hard to find some time to date, but I’m sure that if anyone shoots me a wink from the audience, I can change my mind quickly.”

The words make you scoff. You rest your head against the seat, your tongue poking the side of your cheek, when you notice that you’re at your stop– resulting in you scrambling for your things and practically throwing yourself out of the bus so the doors wouldn’t close on you and drive you away from the bus stop you need to get off on. Yuta’s response keeps repeating in your brain– ‘it’s been really hard to find some time to date’ – at least he’s not lying about that, you think.

And yes, maybe you should’ve understood his motives. Maybe he wanted to protect you from the hate, maybe he simply wanted to give you your privacy, but still– something in you breaks at being denied, at being hidden, and that burning, green feeling has you dialing Yuta’s number, waiting for the singer to reply.

It takes him a few seconds to pick up the call– you expected it, since it’s an usual occurrence now, with your texts going unanswered and calls mostly ignored, if taken, then either after a lot of ringing, or being returned to you after a few minutes when you get through to the voicemail. Still, you’re relieved when you hear his voice on the other side of the line, a little low and groggy, but still familiar.

“Hello, my love,” he says, and the pet name makes you equal parts warm and furious. So now you’re his love? What about the time he did the interview?

“Hi,” you breathe, walking down the sidewalk to your dorm building.

“Why are you calling?” he asks. Do you need a reason to? He seems to be asking this a lot lately, but now that you actually have a reason is when the question hurts you the least.

You hum into the phone, finding the right words to say. Something inside of your gut is screaming at you, telling you just how silly and childish you’re going to sound– at just how demanding and clingy you’re going to look. But still, you can’t help but let the words slip past your mouth. “I was just wondering… about the stuff you said in the interview,” you say.

The male is silent for a little, not really responding to your worries. When he seems to gather that you’re not going to explain– and you don’t have to, since you’re aware that he knows what you mean by your subtle prompt– he talks to you with lightness in his tone, something akin to playful teasing in the reply that has you feeling stupid, so stupid for calling him.

“About that? Y/N… you know you don’t have to worry about the two of us,” he says, laughing, “it’s just… I couldn’t just tell them I’m dating. My manager said I couldn’t, since it may damage the band’s image. I have to stay desirable to keep up the interest.”

You’re silent. So he did it for the band. Not your privacy, not your safety.

“I’m sorry,” he says, “I’ll make it up to you when I get back, okay?”

You find it in yourself to hum at his explanation– no matter how unsatisfactory it was, no matter how it made you feel even worse about the situation than before you called. It’s okay, though– you know that his band always comes first. You can’t tarnish his dreams like that. If a secret is what you have to be, then you’re more than okay with that, if it means Yuta gets to shine like the star he’s always been in your heart.

“Is that all you wanted to talk about?” he asks. “I have to go now, if you don’t have anything else.”

“That’s- that’s all, yeah,” you mumble, sighing as you walk over to the dorms, opening the door with your student ID and slipping inside.

“Okay,” he hums, “I’ll talk to you later. Bye.”

No I love you, no how was your day, no I miss you. No I’ll see you soon, no I can’t wait to see your face, no I can’t wait to hear your voice. It’s okay, though– he must be tired.

VIII. broke, but gave all money to an airline

The next time you allow yourself to travel to see Yuta (despite all your responsibilities at college, with finals coming up and assignments piling up, making you bring your laptop to work with you and type away to finish up all your essays in between customers, having Jaechan read over the passages when your sleep deprivation gets the best of you and you can’t even recognise if you’re using the correct grammar and punctuation anymore), is on the last show of his festival tour. Something inside of you is telling you that you should go watch your boyfriend’s last gig for the time being, to congratulate him and show him just how much you support him, despite your busy schedule (that he is unaware of. You don’t want him to worry).

And on top of that, it’s his birthday– the surprise visit to the show is only an addition to the gift you bought him, though. The personalized lyric journal and a box of his favorite chocolates seems too silly of a gift for somebody like Yuta Nakamoto, but it’s all you can afford, all you can give him. Still, you hope the sincerity and love is able to be felt through the action; you hope he realizes just how much you love him and just how much you missed him all those months.

The journey to the last state was long. You didn’t get enough sleep, you felt jittery and anxious, everything in your bones was screaming at you and cursing you for allowing yourself to make such a trip so early after the old one. Traveling is exhausting, you realize– both mentally and physically– when you have to walk distances and flash all your savings down the drain just to get bus tickets, when you have to rack your brain over to not get lost and take the right directions, make the right turns and walk the right distances. You guess you could understand Yuta a little bit better now– you’re not the one traveling somewhere else every night, and still, you feel insanely tired.

You didn’t tell Yuta about your visit. All you texted him the night before was that you wish him good luck on stage today and that you’re proud of him– sentences that get a short-cut response, an uninterested tone. You guess he just got bummed out that you didn’t stay up and wish him happy birthday the first thing at midnight– a thing he did for you when you weren’t even dating yet, the action warming you up so much back then– but even though it broke your heart, you couldn’t blow your own cover. You wanted to wish him happy birthday in person, to his face.

There is a buzz in the tips of your fingertips when you arrive at the festival. You’ve watched countless of clips online, experienced the concert first-hand multiple times before– you’re sure you could recite the setlist and the exact order of the acts playing if you were woken up in the middle of the night, drenched in cold sweat– but still, you can’t wait to see Yuta perform. You can’t wait to watch the joyful look on his face, the dreamy eyes gazing over the crowd, the raspy voice calling to you like a siren in a love song you were told was about you in the middle of the night, holding him in your dorm bed.

You didn’t stand in the front rows this time. For some reason, you don’t want the singer to know you’re here. You want to watch the show unnoticed, unannounced, enjoying it like every other fan would– except, you’re expecting to meet him after, the way so many girls dream of every night, but never get to experience.

And in a perfect reality, the show ends and you run backstage. The security acknowledges you as his girlfriend and lets you in, smiles at you and pats you on your lower back– go get him, he’s all yours– as you excitedly grin and get ready to finally close the distance between you. In your perfect dreams, that don’t become reality, you’re meeting Yuta and holding him close, chanting whispers at the universe and telling them see? We made it, no matter how many obstacles you threw our way. We made it despite the distance.

Maybe somebody should’ve told you you were a naive dreamer before you came here to embarrass yourself. Nobody did, though– and so here you are.

“Unfortunately, fans aren’t allowed backstage,” the security says, and you understand him– your relationship is secret, not public, so really, he couldn’t have known you were not just a fan, but his girlfriend (despite still thinking that you are Yuta’s biggest fan, always. Nobody could ever support him the way you do).

“I’m not a fan, sir,” you grin, “I’m his girlfriend. I know anyone could say that, but if you just get someone from the back and tell them my name, they will tell you that I’m his partner, trust me,” you explain, a desperate inkling in your voice.

“I don’t have time for that, kid,” the man says. And it’s fair. He’s just doing his job.

“Please, I went here to surprise– there he goes!” you point towards your boyfriend walking off the stage, his head snapping towards you at the sound of your voice, still recognisable even through the flood of screams around. The man locks eyes with you and you wave at him, a fond smile overtaking your tired face, the flame inside you that’s currently giving you third degree burns of anxiety finally starts to get more subtle when recognition flashes through Yuta’s face, but again– you were naive. Naive to think he would appreciate your visit, naive to think he’d like the surprise, naive to think nothing would change between the two of you, naive to think he wouldn’t get tired and find someone new.

A naive kid.

That’s what you are.

Nakamoto Yuta runs off stage, envelopes an excited girl around her shoulders when she runs after him from backstage. Her hair is longer than yours, her face more mature, her smile similar to the ones you saw all the time at the diner whenever Yuta was around, a flirting spark somewhere in between her pearly white teeth. She kisses his jaw and he grins at her, not bothering to look around. The crowd around you gets silent, but your brain tells you it’s foolish to think everyone suddenly stopped talking– it was just your senses slowly shutting out, your vision getting blurry.

So this was the problem all along, you think.

“Anything else? If you’re done being delusional, you can get lost,” the security spits at you, and you chuckle to yourself.

Delusional. That hits the nail on the head.

Nodding, you chew on the inside of your cheek as you stumble backwards, running off through the crowd as you try your best not to get your legs tied and fall over. Your vision is hazy and you refuse to look up, too embarrassed, humiliated by the events of the day to show your face to anyone, resulting in you bumping into someone, your figure limply falling to the ground. Sobs make your shoulders shake, all motivation to stand up and move leaving your body when somebody crouches down next to you, a considerate female voice reaching your ears.

“Everything okay, hun? I’m so sorry, I should’ve watched my step,” she says, a hand patting your back, the smell of her perfume filling your nostrils. “Why are you crying? Are you hurt?”

Shaking your head, you refuse to speak. The female considerately sneaks her arms around you, pulling you to her chest. “What is it? You can tell it to a stranger, I won’t spill.”

“Yuta-” you choke out. Embarrassment is finally the least of your concerns.

“What? What about him?”

“I loved him and he– he threw it all away,” you finish, now completely breaking.

The girl rocks you back and forth, hand running up and down your back to get you to relax. It’s strange, since you haven’t even seen her face, haven’t even asked her name– for all you know, she could think you’re just a crazy fangirl, crying for no reason. But the universe has its way of looking out after you tonight– the soul next to you holding you tight, fingers running through your hair. “It’s alright, babygirl. Cry it out,” she says, “he doesn’t deserve you… I know, I’ve been there. That’s a lesson you have to learn, though– you never date a band guy.

He’s always gonna break your heart.”

EPILOGUE - try not to abuse your power

Yuta Nakamoto was your hero.

He was your everything. He was someone you admired, someone you longed for, someone whose attention you craved for ever since the day you met him for the first time. It’s not every day you get to hang out with a guy that’s in a band, and it’s also not every day that the said guy shows you any type of interest or gives you any type of attention– and in your foolish heart, you took all of that and ran with it, chasing down the adrenaline and calling it love.

You guess it’s never a good idea to date your hero. See, people tend to idolize the ones they admire. People tend to put their heroes on the pedestal and do everything for them, putting them as their priority and disregarding their own needs and interests just to be worthy in the eyes of the other. You were too young to differentiate between healthy love and toxic obsession. You were too young to realize the relationship you had with Yuta wasn’t built on healthy grounds.

Yuta was your hero, yet, he managed to ruin you in a little not over a year. You bet it wasn’t even that hard.

Yuta was sweet. He tasted of honey and adrenaline, of chasing your dreams and running through empty streets with sparkles in your eyes. Yuta was someone older than you, more mature, promising you security and safety that he failed to give you despite your delusional beliefs of having your haven in him. You were young; thinking that guys your age don’t know how to treat you, won’t ever know how to treat you right– being with someone like Yuta was only right in your eyes. You were his fragile piece of pottery, the thing he was supposed to handle with care, and yet, you found yourself shattering at his touches. You should’ve expected it– his fingers were always too calloused to know how to touch anything gently anyway.

And yes, you do feel guilty. You do feel like it’s your fault that you let someone do this to you. You should’ve known better– you shouldn’t have been so childish, so naive. But really, you didn’t know any better. No one ever told you it was wrong. No one warned you. No one told you how it’s supposed to look.

No one told you that you weren’t supposed to spend all your money on plane and bus tickets just to see him for a couple of days. No one told you you weren’t supposed to support him unconditionally, ignore all the bad signs and pay no mind to the way his treatment made you feel worthless. No one told you you weren’t supposed to believe his sweet words, put trust into his empty promises.

It makes you sick, in a way. He knows your freckles, he knows your skin. He knows you like the back of his hand. Maybe, just maybe, you’d still fold under his touch if he dared to get close to you again. You don’t know if you’re strong enough to resist.

And maybe you do know better now, you do hate him for what he did, but you still miss him like a little kid. It’s like you were put on a drug that made you hate everyone and make him the only one you miss when you’re gone.

You do miss him. You do sometimes look at his social media. You do read the headlines of magazines when his face is on the front page. You do think of him whenever you wipe the counters during your night shifts, gazing at the spot he used to sit in whenever he came to keep you company, almost as if you could wish him back into existence. It’s a weird battle. The strangest type of inner conflict.

Driving down the road, back to your dorm in the car you saved up for, the radio humming lowly to keep you company in the silence, you recognize the first few tones of a G chord, the song sending chills down your spine. You listen for a few seconds, waiting for his voice to start– the raspiness, the strongness of his vocals still making you feel some type of way– before you chuckle to yourself.

You guess he did end up releasing the song, after all.

You sigh. It feels like ages have gone by since you heard the song for the first time. It feels like you aged a thousand since you last saw his face.

It’s still strange to hear him on the radio. He made it big, you think.

After all, you still wish him well. Somehow, you still think he deserves the glory.

You skip the song.

You park the car.

You get inside your dorm.

You live your life.

#nct #nct x reader #yuta #yuta x reader #yuta fic #yuta fluff #yuta angst #nakamoto yuta #nakamoto yuta x reader #nct 127 #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 fluff #nct 127 angst #nct angst #nct fluff

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squintyeyedjoel · 5 months

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Through Your Eyes | Part 3 - In the Blink of an Eye (Joel x Reader)

A/N: So this is the rest of what was chapter 2, but I broke it up to keep chapter 2 shorter, and good thing, too, because I ended up adding a lot more. 🤣 Also, I know in canon the garage is a separate building, and I have a plan for that, so bear with me, please.

I do not own The Last of Us or it’s characters. Sadly. But I carry them in my heart. Does that count for something? My soul says yes.

Warnings: Oooo, this one’s a doozy as well, but in a different way than the last one. So many things. (Let me know if I miss anything.) 😮‍💨 Some more original characters, lots of canon violence and swearing, (this one is a big one. Like a lot. There’s a hefty amount of swearing.) mention of attempted sexual assault without detail, Reader is a badass. We round it all out with obscene amounts of fluff and humor between it all, sweet moments, and just soft things. It’s me. I can’t not. No use of Y/N.

Word count: 13,464

Thank you to @fordo-kixed-rex for reading over this however many times it’s been now and fangirling over it when I was having my down moments. You’re the reason this still exists.

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Xxx

The next morning, your little band of six was up with the sun and making sure the horses were ready. Starting out with over fifteen, this smaller party felt like a speck of dust in the wind compared to the massive herd you were before.

Joel had introduced you to the remaining members, people he personally trusted, which from your brief time with him, you knew meant a lot.

First was an older man named Jack, closer to Joel’s age with graying hair and a laugh that was infectious. He was a whisperer when it came to the horses. Well, any animal, really. You could have sworn you saw a butterfly land on his fingertip when no one was looking earlier this morning.

He looked over both shoulders so slightly you almost missed it, but he did a double take when he caught your eye, a small smile spreading up one side of his face as you both watched the small winged creature take flight once again. Jack held his index finger it had been perched on up to his lips in a bid for your silence, to which you only pressed your lips firmly together and gave a single stilted nod to try not to draw attention toward either of you.

It didn’t work.

“What’re you doing?” Joel asked from your right, drawing out the words skeptically to match the raise of his eyebrows in question.

“Nothing,” you offered quickly, fastening your backpack closed and gathering the last of your gear before heading over toward your horse. Once your back was to him, you grimaced. That was much too fast to be convincing.

“Uh-huh. Sure,” he drawled sarcastically, mumbling something under his breath when you didn’t acknowledge him. Something along the lines of, “She ‘nd Ellie’ll be the death’f me.”

It was Jack’s whiskey that had helped Jane’s wound yesterday. He hadn’t hesitated offering his little hip flask out of a secret pocket on the inside of his jacket as soon as he saw the state she was in.

A man pulled you gently off to the side before you could make it over to Jane, Joel following quickly after you less than a step behind.

You didn’t know his name, just that he seemed trustworthy, and slightly tortured. His eyes held a closed off level of pain you’d seen all too often since outbreak day, once or twice in your own reflection, and you knew not to judge how a man chose to fight his demons.

So it was no surprise to you when he offered the stainless steel little demon chaser he obviously kept with him at all times, primed and ready. The liquid sloshed a little inside as he quickly tugged it from his hidden pocket. It was dented in a few places, worn and obviously loved. It had seen better days, but that was kind of the point…. It saw “better” days in order to help you see some better days yourself.

Or to help you sleep through them.

Whichever helped most.

It was the apocalypse.

Who were you to judge?

“Take it,” the man said, holding it out, his hand shaking slightly as he gripped the lifeline with just the tips of his fingers in a hesitant extension. “She needs it more’n I do.”

“Y’sure?” Joel asked, as you eyed the tremble of the man’s fingers. “Withdrawal is no joke, Jack.”

The man who you now knew as Jack’s features curled up in some sort of shame, then determination. He bounced the flask slightly in a renewed offer toward the two of you, his extended hand more firm as he worked hard to calm the tremors. “Neither is being stabbed. What she’s going through is worse than a few uncomfortable nights for me. I’ll survive.” Try as he might, the flask started to vibrate slightly, and he looked down at it like it had betrayed him.

And in a way, you guessed it had.

Reaching out to gently cradle his hand in both of yours, the tremors seemed to still for a moment. Holding his gaze, you took the flask from his grasp, not missing the way his grip tightened just a little before releasing it.

Withdrawing his hand back to his side after a delayed moment as if he had been shocked by some electric current, curling it into a tight fist and quickly stuffing it deep into his jacket pocket, Jack smiled brightly as he looked between the two of you. “Jus’ don’t shoot me when something crawls up my ass in a few days, Joel.”

“No promises,” the elder Miller grunted with a small grin, turning and ushering you toward Jane to make sure no one else interrupted you along the way.

Next was a younger man named Liam, who looked to be around Will’s age. Despite being new to patrols or going on runs and all they would entail, he was eager to learn and an excellent shot.

Turns out he’d also come from Texas, though was much younger when everything had happened, probably only twelve or fourteen years old on outbreak day, so you assumed he and Joel hadn’t crossed paths until later, somewhere closer to Jackson.

And you couldn’t help but feel like maybe Joel was playing a little bit of a favoritism card for his home state, allowing the much younger newbie to tag along with all the other more experienced travelers when he still had so much yet to learn. (You couldn’t blame him if he was. It was yours, too, after all.)

It wasn’t until you heard Liam mention how his family had worked for Joel’s contracting company ‘once upon a time’ - to which Joel had walked past grumbling something resembling, ‘I ain’t that old’ - that things started making a little more sense.

Less of the home field advantage, and more of the home grown kind.

It was becoming clear that Joel was a family man, although to be honest, that was obvious from the start. What you were coming to see was that family wasn’t all just blood.

And that was a decision he made long before the apocalypse.

That was just Joel Miller.

That was his DNA.

If you found yourself in his fold, you’d be okay.

Taken care of.

Even when the world went to shit and he ran into your kid thousands of miles away across the country when everyone was fighting against infectedâ€¦.

That boy would have a home.

You watched with a smile as Joel helped Liam adjust something on his rifle, then braced it on his shoulder and looked through the sights down the barrel with one eye squinted shut, before lowering the weapon and handing it back to the younger man.

Liam copied Joel before pulling away only a step to meet the elder’s gaze, and they shared some quiet words. Some muttered joke drifted to you about old eyes before Joel lightly cuffed him along the back of the head with a smirk and a smartass as he turned to leave, Liam grinning with a chuckle as he turned and secured his rifle to the side of his mount.

With your own grin pulling up your features, you turned slowly and surveyed the rest of the group as you stroked your horse's mane. “I think we may just make it, old girl,” you mused quietly, turning a skeptical eye on your mare when she chuffed at you. Rolling your eyes, you looked back to the group, and mumbled under your breath, “If Joel were a horse…. You’d be it, darlin’.”

The last newcomer to you was a woman named Kate, about your age, and a walking encyclopedia of every living thing in the forest. What you could eat, what you couldn’t, what was medicinal, what was flammable…. Before the outbreak she had been a nurse, and her skills were invaluable to have around on an excursion like this.

She had offered to help with Jane, but Will only let her supervise. No one could pull him away from the wounded seamstress. Under any other circumstance you would find it endearing, but at that particular moment, you found it anything but.

You tried to speak calmly, but the man was trying your last nerve. “Will, she knows what she’s doing. Let her help.”

He lifted his eyes to look at you from where he knelt on one knee on the other side of Jane, and you swore you saw tears brimming in them. If he blinked, you were pretty sure they would fall. But he hadn’t blinked as long as you’d been looking at him, which struck you like a bolt of lightning when you realized how long that had been. It was almost as if he was afraid to close his eyes. Like if he did, she would be gone when he opened them againâ€¦. Even if only for a second.

“I’m not moving.” He pulled his gaze higher to meet the sympathetic face of Kate. “But she can supervise.”

You began to argue again, but Kate put a hand on your shoulder. “That’s fine. I can do that.” Her voice was soft and soothing. “Let me go grab my kit, and I’ll walk you through it, Will.”

He swallowed roughly and nodded once, not looking directly at her, his eyes falling back down to look at Jane who hadn’t woken up since she’d passed out at the raider camp.

“You’re lucky she’s unconscious, or else she’d be giving you an earful right now,” you sighed, letting your weight slump back onto your seat. Resting your forearms on your bent knees, you studied Will cautiously as your head lolled to the right with a tired huff.

“I’d gladly take that over this silence right now,” Will said so quietly, you almost missed it. He held one of her hands in his own, so fiercely and yet cradling it so delicately, you couldn’t even begin to hope to describe it should you have to.

He maneuvered so her head was in his lap, and he peered down at her with a look you thought had died off on outbreak day. Something so tender, so soft, contentedâ€¦.

Come to think of it, you’d seen it on Joel a few times, usually when he was looking at Ellie, or Tommy, though the last was short lived.

Occasionally when he would look down at his watch, though that fluctuated between pain and this sense of peace and contentment.

Almost always when he was in his shop, tool in hand and project on the table.

And sometimes, when he thought you weren’t looking…. Like right now…. He had this look when he’d steal a glance at you.

Stealing your eyes over Will’s shoulder, you met the eyes of your current housemate, and instead of darting away like they usually did, he held your stare as he absently tended to his horse’s tack.

“It’s weird to see her so quiet….”

Will’s soft words pulled you back to the matter at hand. And you could have sworn you saw Joel grin in your peripherals.

“You’re gonna wish you never said that,” Jane mumbled, groaning as she rolled her head to the side, her face screwed up in pain. “Once I start going, I don’t stop.”

You grinned. “It’s true. She doesn’t have an off button.”

Jane reached out and whacked your arm. “Be nice to me. I’m dying.”

“No, you’re not,” Will said around his broad grin, maneuvering her head off of him so he could get beside her for a better view. The smile he gave her then was nothing short of brilliant. “Not if I can help it.”

Speaking of….

“Joel? Where’s Will?”

He smirked with a gentle shake of his head. “Don’t worry ‘bout it.” Gripping the reins of his horse, he clicked the side of his mouth quietly as he got near the creature's head, stroking it softly with one hand as the horse nickered at him.

You led your horse over toward him, reins pulled tight as the giant, powerful, dapple gray wonder named Delilah balked, digging into the earth and tossing her head side to side with a discontented snort.

She’s as stubborn as he is. Fact, I’m pretty sure they planned this. Conspired and everything.

“I plotted nothing with your horse,” Joel mused quietly, amusement heavy in his tone as you realized you said the last part out loud. “Only thing Delilah and I conspire ‘bout are sugar cubes n’apples.” He shrugged. “There’s the odd carrot talk here n’there, but….”

Joel sighed before you even really got moving, as if he were anticipating the whole thing. His head tossed back as he peered up at the sky as if to ask why.

Dropping the reins you closed the last few feet between you and Joel, arms coming to cross over your chest once you landed behind him. “Well, I’m gonna.”

Joel sighed again, resting his head against his horse’s, who let out a soft contented bray, before pulling back to look at you. “Will’s okay,” he said softly. “Now, leave it alone.”

“How do you know?” You swiveled to follow him as he walked over to gather your horse’s reins, shushing the large mare until she, too, was nickering at him, then he led her back over to you.

Joel shrugged, pulling his face tight in amusement as he placed the horse’s tack back in your hands. “Jus’ do.”

“If you don’t tell me….”

He mounted his horse with a groan. “I patrol with the man. I just know his little quirks, okay?” Looking down at you from atop his mount, Joel’s expression was unreadable as his horse stepped back and forth, eager to get going. He reached out to pat the back of the large chestnut’s head, muttering calming words. “Shhhh…. Calm down, Old Beardy….”

“Your horse's name is-”

“He’s not in trouble…. Yet,” Joel cut you off, sitting up abruptly, slightly wide eyed on the back of Old Beardy. “But if he keeps pesterin’ Jane like I think he’s wantin’ to,” his eyes narrowed in on you ever so slightly as he leaned back over his horses head to offer soothing circles of comfort on the side of his neck, “that could all change very quickly….”

You scoffed, arms across your chest cinching tighter. “Really?” They rearranged to your hips as you leaned toward him with each word, most likely for emphasis, but you weren’t entirely sure. “Was that a not so subtle dig at me to stop pesterin’ you?”

Joel shrugged, one shoulder going slightly higher than the other, as he sat back upright astride his horse and an amused grin started to pull up one cheek. “You said it. I didn’t.” With that, he nudged his horse forward, moving past you at a slow walk, and you could tell he was trying hard not to smile.

Xxx

Without Will here, the group traveled in relative silence. After a while, it became unbearable for you, and you steered your horse to sidle alongside Joel and his steed.

“Ellie told me Tommy was your patrol partner.”

Joel nodded. “Mmm-hmm. Usually is.”

You watched a butterfly fly in front of you, smirking as you glanced at Jack and found him already grinning in your direction. “So what changed?” You focused back on Joel and the road ahead.

Joel sighed, adjusting in his saddle. “He’s gonna be a daddy soon.” Your eyes bugged out of your head, making him chuckle. “Yeah, that’s ‘bout the same reaction I had.”

“Same reaction we all had,” Jack chimed in, making everyone laugh softly.

“I dunno. Seems like he’d be a good dad,” Liam posed.

“What makes you say that?” Kate had turned in her saddle to face the youngest of the group, her eyebrows nearly in her hairline.

“It’s just a gut feeling.”

“A gut feeling,” Jack agreed distantly, staring straight ahead. “And by that you mean the thought of it makes your stomach turn.”

As Jack passed by on your right, you reached out and shoved his shoulder lightly.

“What?” The man protested, looking at you wide eyed. “It’s true! Ain’t no way the words Tommy Miller and Daddy ever came up together naturally….” Jack grimaced as he turned back to face forward again. “‘Least not in any way I care to think about.”

“Watch it,” Joel warned teasingly. “That’s my baby brother you’re talking about, asshole. He may be a stick in the mud and about as sharp as two spoons trying to pick up pudding-”

Your face twisted in confusion as Joel took a breath. “Um, spoons could easily pick up pudding. That’s not an insult. You must be tired.” Joel turned his glare on you, and you simply grinned around it, continuing on. “I think you were going more for something like spoons trying to cut through stone?”

The group all snickered behind you as the two of you simply stared at one another, amusement hiding deep in your expression while annoyance clearly painted his.

“I concur with Liam,” you agreed instead after a moment. Joel huffed and turned his gaze on the young man who only shrugged in response before he was looking back at you.

“A Miller man an actual daddy,” you mused quietly, smiling softly as you stared straight ahead. “I don’t think the world could handle the awesomeness.” Looking back over at Joel, you expected to see him grinning at the playful banter, but instead he looked somewhat sad.

The same expression he had when he looked at his watch sometimes.

In fact, he glanced down to it now. It was brief, but you caught it.

It wasn’t the look Will had had with Jane. This was that sad, forlorn expression, like he was missing something. Like a piece of his soul was gone.

But as quickly as it came, it went.

Without a glance your direction, he pulled his eyes up to the path ahead and squinted as the horses pulled into another clearing and sunlight shone directly on his face.

“Yeah,” he finally gruffed, clearing his throat as he purposefully looked at the forest around him. “He’s gonna be great. Anyway….” He nudged his horse faster, seeming to head for the next pocket of tree cover a few yards away. But you weren’t that dense and could tell he was just trying to get away from the conversation, so you followed suit, falling into step beside him once again.

Joel sighed almost imperceptibly when he heard your horse's footfalls lining up with his own once again. You could have sworn his eyes rolled slightly, too, now that they were not squinted in the shade of the tall trees. But he went on regardless. “Maria’s been sick a lot more the further the pregnancy’s gone, so…. Told him t’stay home.”

Nodding, you kept your gaze forward, allowing Joel a respite from prying eyes. This was all a tender subject, and you still didn’t know why, but you could respect that. “Well, it looks like Will is a good one to take his place,” you mused quietly.

Glancing over, you saw how Joel’s expression brightened again, his eyes casting down to the ground like a bashful kid. “He’s alright.”

The group made it a decent ways, a handful of miles between all of you and the former bandit camp now that there were fewer of you, plus you didn’t have the cart to slow you down.

Even so, you still missed Jane and Will. They both added a quiet energy to the group even if they never said a word.

But they both always said plenty.

Joel had the group stop at an abandoned cabin on the very edge of the forest, letting the horses rest and grabbing a bite to eat from what was packed. Everyone was settled in and halfway through some sandwiches, when suddenly you could hear muffled galloping through the cabin walls. It was approaching rapidly in the distance, back in the direction you had come from.

The whole party sat up abruptly, food long forgotten as they reached for their firearms and listened closely.

“Everyone stay inside,” Joel mumbled quickly, striding over to the small fire in the cabin's hearth and setting his cup of water on the mantle, swapping it for his rifle already resting there, always within arms reach.

Jack and Kate cocked their rifles, clicking them over to safety and resting them across their laps while they remained in their seats by the fire, watching Joel head out the door. Once the elder Miller had passed the threshold, the door softly latching shut behind him, Jack clicked his safety off. Kate arched a brow at him, and he shrugged.

“Better safe than sorry.”

Kate rolled her eyes. “And if it’s nothing? And you get jumpy? What then?”

Jack huffed quietly at her whispered admonishment. “I don’t get jumpy.”

Casting her eyes down to his still trembling hands pointedly, she pulled her eyes back up to meet his and arched a brow. “Maybe you don’t, but that leftover whiskey in your system sure does.”

Flipping his hand under the barrel over to grip the armrest of the chair in an attempt to stabilize himself, Jack glared at Kate, but quickly turned the glare down to his hand when the tremor instead began to rattle the loose wooden pegs holding the seat together.

“Point taken,” he grumbled, flicking the safety back on before sitting on his practically vibrating palms, his rifle braced across his thighs. After a moment he hurriedly grabbed the rifle and rested it against the stone fireplace in front of him, sitting back on his hands and adding a bouncing knee to the routine. He looked at Kate and shrugged. “It’s gotta work its way out somehow.”

Turning away from the two by the fire, you spotted Liam still asleep in one of the long abandoned bunks in the cabin corner, and you couldn’t blame him. An actual mattress that hadn't gone to hell was hard to come by. You smiled faintly after remembering how he had plopped in it within five seconds of entering the structure.

“Anyone wakes me sooner than morning, clickers are gonna be the least of your worries,” he said, flat on his back and eyes already closed, followed by a contented sigh as he melted into the slightly redeemable box spring.

The dust particles that had filled the air in a violent swirl when his back hit the mattress had finally begun to settle. They floated through the lazy sunbeams that danced through the remaining cabin windows, dirty as they were, reminding you of lazy weekend afternoons back before the outbreak.

A lawnmower going down the street.

Kids laughing in the cul de sac.

The smell of barbecue from somewhere nearby, or just a fire as people stood round to watch it for fun in their back yard with a drink in hand and relax.

Not to rely on it for warmth like now.

For food.

Usually outside and in silence for fear of what lurked just out of sight.

You hadn’t thought about these things in so long….

Since before moving to Jackson.

Before Joel and Ellie….

Shaking your head, you shut your eyes to quit staring at the dust particles long enough to focus back on the matter at hand.

Liam. Hoofbeats. Focus.

Looking back at the peacefully sleeping young man, you grinned slightly. Shifting your weight side to side once, you sighed heavily through your nose.

Sorry, kid.

After absently adjusting the strap slung across your shoulders of the rifle you’d stolen from the raiders, tugging where it pulled tightly at the center of your chest, the weapon a heavy reminder at your back, you walked quietly over to him.

Gently nudging his shoulder with your left hand, you then held the index finger of your right up to your mouth to indicate silence as he stirred and began to ask what was happening in a bleary voice.

Liam turned his head toward you, his face screwed up like you had a flashlight trained on his face in the darkest of nights. “Who dares to distur-” The hand rubbing one eye froze mid swipe, and he stared at you with the other eye that was still exposed.

Suddenly fully awake, his palm trailed up to rest on his forehead as he blinked a few times then looked wide eyed around the cabin and saw everyone with their weapon either in hand or at the ready.

He sat up abruptly, his hand falling to his lap soundlessly as he continued to scooch closer to the edge of the mattress, miraculously avoiding every traitorous squeaky spring in the thing.

Once at the edge, feet still propped up on the tiny cot, he reached down seamlessly into his open backpack resting on the floor against the foot of the cot closest to his head, and pulled out a machete, bringing it up to rest on the bed beside him as he gave you a single nod.

It was a very Joel thing to do.

A snort of amusement pulled your attention back over your shoulder where you saw Jack looking on with a grin, nodding in approval. “Kid’s got the right idea,” he said just above a whisper.

“I learned from the best,” Liam mused around a grin.

“Yeah, Joel’s really been passing on some gems,” Kate said, looking slyly at Jack, and snorting in amusement when he turned a disapproving glare her way.

“The kid wasn’t talking about Joel,” he groused. “He’s my patrol partner, Kate. He meant me.”

“I actually meant Tommy.”

All three sets of eyes turned to Liam, before quiet snickers of laughter went around, the younger man beaming at the attention.

“Nah, I’m just joking.”

“We know,” Jack coughed softly, eyeing the door of the cabin when Joel still hadn’t returned, clearing his throat.

“I meant Ellie.”

This time the laughter was a bit louder and unrestrained, but still quiet. A thump on the cabin door was heard, then it swung open and Joel popped his head in.

“Hush!” He hissed to the four of you, the continuous growing sound of approaching hooves filling the following silence of his deathly stare. “You four are louder than a horde!”

The cabin door shut silently, but it might as well have been slammed with the finality it gave. The four of you exchanged looks.

“‘Least we smell better than a horde, though.”

Jack’s off handed comment made the rest of you snicker quietly as you tried to follow Joel’s request.

“Speak for yourself,” Kate grumbled. “Most of us do, ‘nyway.”

Jack and Kate shared another little stare off as the tension of the impending approaching hoofbeats grew closer.

Meanwhile, Joel had slinked around the side of the cabin outside for a better vantage point before the newcomer on horseback could get any closer. You were able to track him through two of the cabin’s windows before you lost sight of him. If he stayed on the path you’d last seen him on, then he would have made it just behind a pile of firewood and out of sight when the rapidly approaching horse crested over the tiny hill and came into view.

His footsteps were virtually silent, only the foliage crunching underfoot could give him away, and he was careful to not let it. Aside from one or two traitorous twigs that helped you all in the cabin follow his movements once he was past the windows, he was like a ghost.

Suddenly his footsteps shuffled carelessly, every leaf and twig breaking under his weight and being kicked to the side with little to no effort to mask his steps as he slid to a stop at the same time you heard a second male voice.

It was familiar as it yelled, “Woah, woah,” overlapping the sound of a horse breathing heavily as the galloping came to a stop. Then a thud as someone hopped onto the ground from a height, you guessed from the back of the horse, the foliage underfoot crunching from the impact.

You were so concentrated trying to place the familiar voice that had called out to the horse, you missed the pair of returning relaxed footsteps back toward the cabin. The low, muffled voices exchanged a murmured conversation you couldn’t quite make out even if you were paying attention.

The cabin door suddenly swung open, and there stood Joel, a grumpy look on his features, followed by an amused looking Will.

“Told ya he was fine,” Joel grumbled, holding your wide eyed gaze.

The other three members of the group let out a collective sigh, of what you assumed was relief, all of them stowing their weapons once again and settling back into the comfort and warmth that had been interrupted.

Will stayed outside to tend to his horse while Joel came back into the cabin, grumbling something about not signing up for this the whole way back to the fireplace.

As Joel passed behind Jack, he pulled the chair the older man was seated in back, making his friend reach out to stabilize himself before looking up at Joel skeptically. “And you do smell like a horde. Go use the rain barrel out back and clean up, ya ass.”

“It’s the shakes,” Jack mumbled, staring at the floor in embarrassment as he got to his feet before heading for the door. “They make me sweat somethin’ fierce.”

“Then use this as ammunition to never let the whiskey get you this bad again, Jack.”

Pausing halfway to the door, the older man looked up to meet Joel’s piercing expression, the embarrassment on his own melting away into determination. The two men held each other's gaze for a moment before Jack nodded once and headed out the cabin door.

“I’ll go with him. Make sure he’s okay.” Kate stood up, slinging her rifle across her shoulders and grabbing Jack’s from its spot still against the fireplace. “After everything, I’d prefer someone watch my back, too. Only fair I watch someone’sin return.”

Joel nodded and watched her follow after Jack. When the front door opened, you could see Will tending to his horse out front before it closed again and cut off the outside world. He, Jack and Kate traded muffled words before Will came inside, swiping his sweaty brow in the crook of his elbow with the sleeve of his outer flannel layer.

Once he got settled into the cabin, hogging a space by the fire despite a look from Joel as he adjusted to make room, and several pieces of beef jerky from the main stash despite you and Liam staring him down pointedly, an overly excited Will explained everything.

Hold your horses I’m getting to it! How he rode all morning …. Can someone pass me some water? I think I swallowed a bug on the way here …. after sneaking out of Jackson …. Jerky has never tasted this good …. to try and catch up with the group once again after …. Man, whoever built this fire did a good job. It is hot! …. after Jane ‘threatened to maim him’ if he didn’t get ahold of her sewing machine. Shouldn’t be too difficult.

He had a starstruck look in his eyes the whole time, and you were pretty sure it was because he was living out his secret agent dreams by sneaking out of town and back to the group, but it was especially evident when he talked about Jane, making you smile.

Does he realize he would have done it if she hadn’t even asked?

He was wrapped around her finger already.

Kate and Jack had come back in by now and were in their seats by the fire once again, watching Will with bemused expressions.

“We had to get out before dawn so the council wouldn’t put a stop to it. Things are crazy since we got back and those raiders wouldn’t say a word. Became freaking mimes.” Joel snorted in amusement.

“Security was doubled instantly after we told them about the threats, so I had to pay off the south gate watchmen. By the way, Joel,” he turned toward the older man, “they get to choose their next three patrols.” He shrugged at the exasperated look from the elder Miller. “Was all they wanted. I told them they had to be done within the next three months or no deal, and they said fine.” Joel arched a brow.

Will took a deep breath, wincing slightly like he didn’t particularly want to relay this next part.

“Spit it out,” Joel growled, adjusting in his seat in front of the fire to face it, holding his hands out toward the flames.

“The council aren’t too happy that you didn’t come back with everyone.” He looked around the room. “Any of you.” Then back at Joel. “But especially you, since you’re partially in charge of security, n’all.”

“Well, ain’t that nice,” Joel mused quietly, the side of his mouth ticking up as he continued to stare at the fire.

“They mentioned a disciplinary hearing once this is all sorted out.”

Everyone in the cabin groaned at the mention of more politics.

Everyone but Joel. He just grinned, rubbing his hands together in front of the flames. “Well, I think Ellie said it bestâ€¦.” He looked at you, then Will. “They can bite me.”

“Speaking of Ellie,” Will grabbed his backpack where it rested at his feet, pulled it into his lap and unzipped it, digging into its contents with purpose. “She was real worried ‘bout both of you when she heard what happened.”

He looked up, his hand withdrawing from the bag and gesturing between you and Joel with his index finger, then went right back to rifling through the bag, making one side of your mouth pull up slightly at his antics. “So she sent these with me.” Pausing in his search, he shut his eyes in exasperation and tilted his head back toward the ceiling. “Don’t ask me how she knew I’d be leavin’, before you start yellin’, Joel,” Will disclaimed preemptively, his voice tired already as he focused back on the bag, returning it to the floor and withdrawing two items. “Girl’s got a mind of her own.”

Will extended a hand to each of you, the one for Joel holding an old revolver that the man looked at fondly, his eyes softening as he took it from Will’s hand, and tucked it into the back of his pants. The younger man reached back into the bag and pulled out a bandolier lined with bullets for the gun that you’d seen Joel using his reloading press to make out in the garage a few times.

Ammo could be hard to come by, depending on the caliber, so when Joel happened on some reloading equipment on a patrol, he’d been ecstatic. It didn’t matter that he’d thrown his back out trying to get the heavy gear home. Stubborn as he was, he made it work, he and his horse somehow tag teaming the equipment all the way back to Jackson from who knows where. He had not allowed Will to touch it the entire way back, some stupid childlike claim waging between them like finders keepers or something along those lines - you’d stopped listening with a roll of your eyes as they’d bickered the whole way into the garage with the equipment.

“Come on, Joel. I helped you get it here!” Will’s voice carried from the garage, his breathing heavy as he tugged the makeshift sled the equipment was on the last few feet over the threshold.

“I said no! Now drop it,” Joel groused, the following silence after a loud clatter almost deafening.

“You said ‘drop it’,” Will said nonchalantly.

Joel’s hiss could be heard clearly all the way in the kitchen where you were doing dishes. “I meant the topic, not the tools….”

“Well, maybe I could think more clearly if I hadn’t just trekked thirty five miles with all that weight-”

“It wasn’t thirty-”

“Felt like it-”

“You’re acting like a child-”

“And you’re acting like a grouch-”

“Don’t test me, Will.”

“But grouch is nothing new for you, Joel.”

“Oh, just fuck off.”

“Make me.”

“Oh, I will….”

“Boys!” When you walked into the garage, the two of them were nose to nose, chests puffed up and about to bump into one another in a ridiculous display of strength. “Stop it. You’re both idiots.”

They both turned their heads to look at you.

“He thinks-” Joel started, overlapping Will’s “I didn’t-”

“What did I just say?” Your hands went to your hips in admonishment, brows knit together in an unimpressed glare.

Joel turned back to Will, a heavy puff of air passing through his nose before he smiled. “Fine. Finders keepers.”

Will scoffed in protest as Joel peeled off to start unloading the equipment.

“That’s not fair!”

“I said what I said. Now don’t touch my stuff, idiot.”

With a shake of your head, you left them to sort out their nonsense, letting the garage door close behind you and muffle their bickering as you headed back to the kitchen.

The night before you left, you’d seen Joel and Ellie out there together, working with the press as he taught her the basics of reloading. You wondered how many of those she’d made herself as you watched him take the bandolier delicately, holding it in both hands out in front of him like you would a newborn child. Practically cradling it.

The look in his eyes as he ran them up and down the lines of bullets, surveying each shiny casing, was much the same as that of a parent looking at their brand new precious offspring just after they’d entered this world. It was a look once adopted that never really left. Something a little precious, awestruck, filled with wonder and love, and a hell of a lot of pride.

You were ninety percent sure he was thinking about Ellie, and not the ammo, though.

Well, more like eighty percent.

Will cleared his throat to pull your attention back to him, jostling his hand still held out to you.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, looking down at the offering.

You saw your yellow fanny pack being extended to you, partly deflated and sagging as Ellie had obviously removed all your tools you wouldn’t need on the trip.

When you took it from Will’s hand, an unexpected weight inside caught you off guard. Unzipping the main compartment once you’d clipped the belt around your waist, you pulled out a pocket knife you had seen Ellie flipping open and closed almost daily.

She was never without it.

….Except now….

….Because she’d sent it with you.

The room began to swim behind your unshed tears as they threatened to fall, but you blinked them away rapidly. This wasn’t the time for that. Nor was it the time for that thing catching in your chest as you traced the tip of your index finger over the worn housing of the blade.

After a moment, you looked up at Joel, and saw the surprise on his face before his eyes pulled up from the familiar pocket knife to meet yours, something like fondness taking over his features as they softened. “That’s her most prized possession.”

“Besides the garage,” you shot back, trying to speak around the emotions building up in your throat, clearing it in an attempt to rid yourself of them. A wet chuckle took their place as you held his gaze, your grip tightening around the pocket knife protectively.

Joel snorted, shaking his head gently as he looked back down to the bandolier. “Don’t start.” He slipped the ammo belt over his shoulders and across his chest, adjusting it minutely like a man would a tie on Easter morning.

It struck you for a moment how much life had changed since outbreak day. Men used to adjust their ties and now they adjusted their weapons.

These were thoughts for another day.

Setting the knife back in the main compartment of your pack, you dug out the rock Joel had given you to rest against your black eye from your jacket pocket, and really looked at it for the first time since he had given it to you.

It was smooth, almost perfectly round, yet flat enough to hold in the palm of your hand easily. A rich dark gray, almost black with white streaks running through one part of it that made it look slightly off kilter. As it caught the firelight, the white streaks glimmered slightly. They were some sort of crystal, barely the width of a sharpened pencil, yet still they decided to shine.

You wanted to be like that rock. Solid and steadfast, it knew what it was, until sometime when it was forming, something else came along to meld with it and left a mark, a scar, a blemish, and yetâ€¦. It was still beautiful.

Glancing up, you saw Joel already watching you curiously, his brow raised in amusement. Unable to hold his gaze, you shook your head slightly before looking back down to the bag, and tucked the rock in the main compartment right beside the pocket knife like you’d meant to do before you’d gotten distracted.

The sound of the teeth stitching closed as you zipped the bag shut once again acted as an anchor to your wayward mind.

“I’ll protect it with my life.” Looking back up, you caught Joel’s eye, and something unreadable passed across his face, his gaze fluttering down to the bag, then back up to meet your own, before turning to Will as they started in on another topic.

Holding out a hand to halt the conversation, eyes shut tight in confusion, you stopped them. “Wait, wait, wait.”

Ignoring Will’s exasperated sigh, you forged on. Opening your eyes, you peered at him with furrowed brows as you lifted only your index finger, gesturing to your left a few times. “Back up.”

He lifted his eyebrows at you in question. Bobbing your finger slightly as you continued for emphasis, you arched your own brows curiously. “‘We’?”

Faintly, in the distance the same direction Will had come from, you heard a wagon wheel squeak as it rolled closer toward the cabin.

After only a moment of exchanged looks in hesitation, Will refusing to give away anything, you all piled outside to see who the newcomer was. Just cresting over the little hill before the cabin came a horse with a rider moving at a casual pace, the cart from before that had taken Jane and the raiders back to Jackson being pulled along behind them.

Everyone smiled while Joel groaned and cradled his head in his hand when it was clear it was pulled by none other than Tommy.

“You guys have all the fun without me,” the younger Miller yelled good-naturedly.

Joel groaned a bit louder, starting toward the cart with determination. “Raiders n’infected’ll hear us comin’ a mile away with that wheel. What’d you do?”

Tommy scoffed. “First your hinges, now this? Why d’you always assume it’s me?”

Once Jack, Liam, and Kate saw who was atop the cart, and that he and Joel were quickly slipping into their usual ways, the three of them wandered back into the cabin, shaking their heads and rolling their eyes as the two men continued to bicker.

Will, however, stuck around for the show. He was a firm supporter of Miller Entertainment. So long as there was something to see, he’d be there.

Oblivious to the reactions of the others, Joel continued towards his brother, taking the reins of the horse he was atop as Tommy hopped off. “Because it is always you.” He handed the reins back to Tommy as he went to inspect the wheel quickly before they both returned to the now dwindling group.

“Well, you’re fucking welcome, y’old fucker,” Tommy grumbled teasingly. “This wasn’t my idea, anyway.”

You smirked. “Jane got to you, too, huh?”

He looked at you with wide eyes. “That woman is frightening.”

You and Will laughed, as Tommy looked between you with the same, wide eyed look of fear.

After a quiet moment filled with your dying laughter and Joel’s grumbling as he glared at the wheel, Tommy turned back to his brother. “I just want you t’be happy, Joel.”

Knelt beside the wagon wheel, inspecting it up close now that they were beside the cabin, Joel didn’t even spare his brother a glance. “Then leave me alone, you ass.”

Tommy unhooked the horse, and you led it over beside Will’s where the two men started taking the gear off of them to rest for the evening.

After a long moment of messing with the wheel, Joel turned his head up to Tommy from his perch on the ground, wide eyed. “Who’s watchin’ Ellie?!”

Tommy looked down at his older brother, hands on his hips, unphased. “Herself.”

With a shake of his head, Joel got to his feet and paced in a small circle with his hands on his hips. The two Miller’s looked like carbon copies of each other, and it made you grin. “They’re all doomed. All‘f Jackson….” He rounded on his brother, both of them squaring off with hands on their hips and a stern, stony expression. “What were y’thinkin’?”

You laughed. “You may not have your garage to yourself when we get back, Joel. She may take matters into her own hands.”

After turning his hard glare on you, he turned back to the wheel, wrestling with it for a moment and finally yanking out a small twig caught up in the mechanism, before standing back up and dusting off his hands with a dry, tight grin. “For everyone’s sake, she better fuckin’ not.” He nodded to Tommy. “‘specially him.”

“Why me?” Tommy scoffed.

“You’re th’idiot that left a teenager unattended in my house,” he groused.

“There’s not much she can-”

Joel just leveled a glare on him. “‘member when y’threw that party when mom ‘n dad were out of town, and I was watchin’ you?”

Tommy huffed. “That was so long ago, Joel, and she’s way different ‘n I was. She ain’t the social butterfly like me,” Joel snorted, “anyway, it’s Jackson in th’middle’f a goddamn apocalypse. What the hell is she gonna do that’d be so awful?”

They shared a look, something unsaid that had Tommy’s expression shifting to some sort of understanding. He softly amended, “I’m sure she’s fine, Joel.” He clapped a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “She’s stayin’ with Maria, anyway.” Tommy grinned at Joel’s groan. “I’m not entirely useless, big brother. I thought’f all that. Maria’ll make sure she gets t’school n’eats n’bathes….” That understanding passed over his face again, turning it to something soft, along with his tone. “She’ll be a normal kid, it’ll be fine.”

Tommy’s tone took on a teasing nature. “Besides,” he smirked. “That girl offered t’take my patrol shift for a week if I told you she was on her own.”

Joel’s eyes went wide as he stared at his brother, the shit eating grin on Tommy’s face only growing wider.

“My guess is for that very reaction.” He pointed at Joel, wagging his finger gently. “But of course I said like hell. She ain’t goin’ on patrol. No fuckin’ way.”

Joel visibly relaxed, his eyes closing in relief before they flew open and back on his brother with a skeptical brow raised. Waiting.

“So instead,” Tommy went on, smile only broadening, “she offered t’take my shift muckin’ out the stalls in the stable for a week. Somethin’ ‘bout ‘it’s all shits and giggles, but now instead it’s shits for giggles’…. I don’t know. Half the time when she speaks it’s like another language.” He was grinning like a fool by now. “Reminds me ofâ€¦.” That same look of understanding passed between him and Joel again, only this time something heavier seemed to carry underneath. His voice softened. “She’s a good kid, Joel.”

As they sat in their shared moment, you decided after a minute to break the silence. “Too bad you didn’t tell him, then,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest.

Tommy turned to you. “What d’you mean?”

You couldn’t help the smirk. “I didn’t hear anything ‘bout her bein’ on her own.” You turned to Joel. “Did you?”

He was grinning softly. “I didn’t hear nothin’. What ‘bout you, Will?”

Looking over at Will, you saw him grin like a cat with a canary. “Not a peep.”

Tommy sighed. “You bastards.”

“Takes one t’know one, ya idiot,” Joel hummed under his breath, turning toward the tack for the horses that had been set on the wagon to move it under the makeshift barn that had been set up for the evening.

“You’re so mean,” Tommy groused half heartedly as Joel passed by, pouting his lip out in an attempt to garner sympathy from his big brother who just turned to him and wrinkled his nose up at him in disgust. The younger Miller mimicked the face and lightly shoved the shoulder of his older brother, causing him to stumble sideways.

“Boys!” You called out, grinning when they snapped their heads your way in unison. “You’re how old again?” Turning toward the cabin, you called over your shoulder toward the men, “I’m just sayin’…. But just for shits and giggles….”

“Ah, shaddup,” Tommy called over the laughter of the other two.

The rest of the party had just stepped out of the cabin to see what all the fuss was about, when suddenly there was a very high pitched yet muffled sneeze from behind you.

Knitting your brows, you turned to Kate who had just walked past. “Bless you?”

She looked just as confused. “That…. Wasn’t me.”

You turned to Joel. Only making it as far as to open your mouth and take in a breath before he cut you off.

“Ha ha, very funny, darlin’. Wasn’t me.”

Another attempted assasination of a sneeze sounded from the back of the cart under a tarp, and all eyes went to it, staring in disbelief.

Liam was the first to break the silence after a long moment. “Did that tarp just sneeze?”

A very quiet and muffled, “Ow,” came next, and you’d know that voice anywhere, no matter how squeaky it currently was.

Your feet were moving before your brain was fully processing what you were doing, carrying you toward the cart.

Jack was quick to chime in behind you, with an entirely necessary, “Did that tarp just talk?!”

A second female voice, this one much younger and sarcastic came from under the tarp, dry and droll, “Nice going, blondie.”

Joel’s eyes went wide. They pulled up to meet yours where you now stood on the opposite side of the cart.

He moved so fast, you could have sworn he had super speed. He was on top of the wagon wheel and ripping the tarp back to reveal your stowaways before you could even blink.

To be fair, you were only half a second behind him, ripping the tarp off the rest of the way from the other side.

In the dying light of the day, Jane and Ellie blinked up at the two pairs of eyes peering down at them from around the edge of the cart, looking justifiably sheepish at the attention. Five more sets of eyes appeared slowly, trickling in as they realized what was going on, only adding to the squirming of the two stowaways.

You were the first to break the silent little stare off. Holding the gaze of your friend, you hissed quietly, “What are you doing here?! You just got stabbed! Are you crazy?!”

Jane wasted no time in coming to her own defense. “I told you!” She tried to sit up quickly, and hissed when her wound protested at the movement. Before you could even reach out to offer help, Ellie was quick to help her sit up fully, putting Jane’s arm over her shoulder to ease her into the right position slowly. She spoke through a grimace, “I want that sewing machine, and I’m gonna get it!” Her eyes opened fully, her voice strong. “Come hell or high water.”

After you let out a strangled puff of air through your nose in aggravation, hand still held out to help coming back to land on the edge of the cart with a smack, all eyes turned to the teenager beside her.

Ellie merely shrugged, Jane’s arm still over her shoulder rising and falling with the movement. “I’m just here for the show.”

Xxx

Your small party sat outside around a campfire, milling about as the evening wore on, tending to the horses and other menial things before everyone was set to take off in the morning.

Will would not leave Jane’s side. He was her human crutch. Literally. He helped her hobble around, and from the look on her face, she was about to shove him to the ground and run, damn whatever happened to her wound.

He was a sweet boy, but a girl needed to pee in peace, stab wound or not.

“Are you going to chew my food for me, too?” She snapped as he broke a piece of beef jerky down into smaller pieces for her to eat.

He just stared at her for a moment, frozen.

“I’m injured, not broken.”

Will nodded after a long pause, looking down to the jerky in his hands as they rested in his lap. “You’re right. I’m sorry. This is just really tough stuff and I didn’t want you to hurt yourself trying to rip it apart.”

Jane sighed. “No, I’m sorry.” She rested a hand on his shoulder. “I appreciate all the help, I really do. I’m just a really independent person, and this…. All this needing help…. is driving me nuts.” Her hand fell down to rest on his. “Maybe we can compromise?”

He looked up and met her eyes with his own, smiling broadly. “I’d like that.”

Jane nodded once. “First things first,” she popped a bite sized piece of jerky in her mouth from the pile in his hand. “I get to pee without an escort.”

“But what if-”

“Will, I swear to God, don’t make me-”

“Fine! Fine, fine,” he held his hands up by his head in surrender, jerky flying every which way as he forgot he was holding it. He peered at it on the floor in disgust. “Oops?”

Jane had a sour expression on her face, her nose wrinkled up. “That’s yours now. Mmmmâ€¦. Floor jerky. Yum.”

You’d tried to return the pocket knife to Ellie now that she was back, but she wasn’t having it.

“Since you’re here, go ahead and take this….” Unzipping the main compartment of the fanny pack, you extended the pocket knife she’d gifted to you toward her.

Ellie lifted a hand, shaking it as she took a step back. “No. I don’t need it.”

Cocking your head to the side in question, you bent your elbow but kept your hand out, letting the pocket knife rest in your palm between the two of you. “You need something to protec-”

The teen pulled out a machete from a belt along her hips you hadn’t noticed before. Holding it sideways, she tilted the blade side to side, letting it catch the dying light of the day and the errant twinkle of firelight. “Liam already hooked me up. I’m good.”

You snorted. “But this is yours-”

“And now it’s yours,” she countered. “….for now.” Her cheeks flamed pink. “I want that back.” A look of determination came over her features as she jut out her chin to look down her nose at you. “So you better not die, Miss Fanny.”

Grinning, you tucked the knife back into your pack. “I’ll do my best, Sparky. I’ll do my best.”

Ellie grimaced. “Sparky?”

Zipping up your fanny pack, you looked up at her through your lashes. “It’s what you remind me of.” Once the knife was secure again, you lifted your head to look at her fully. “A spitfire.”

Her grimace deepened. “But Sparky? That’s like what you name a dog or something…. Or elderly men like Joel.”

Joel, who was only a few feet away tending to the fire sighed heavily, obviously listening in, before he chuckled lowly.

“Then what do you suggest?” Your arms came up to cross over your chest, weight shifting to rest on one leg as your hip popped out to the side.

“I dunno….” She looked at Joel. “He’s The Contractor,” she said it in a ridiculous voice, making you giggle, “so can’t I be something cool like that? Like, I don’t know…. The Lumberjack…. The Carpenter….”

“You have to do all those things to get those names, smartass,” Joel chimed in, not even bothering to turn around and face the conversation.

Ellie stuck her tongue out at him.

“The Artist….” You offered, smiling when you saw the lightbulb go off behind her eyes. Nodding once, your grin grew when her own started up her face. “The Artist it is…. Sparky.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the sour look her face instantly took on.

Tommy leaned back in his spot beside Joel with a loud groan, a mischievous grin starting up his face. “I just call it like it is. She’s Trouble.”

Ellie gasped, whipping her head over to look at him as her arms came to cross over her chest defensively. “And after I didn’t lump you into old man Joel territory over there.” She gestured to the elder Miller with a bob of her head before setting her sights squarely on the younger sibling once again.

Tommy shrugged demurely.

She glared at him, the ferocity of her expression causing you to chuckle softly as Joel let out a low whistle. “You’re dead to me, old man.”

It had dwindled down to just the two Miller’s, Ellie, and yourself. Everyone else was inside the cabin, tucked in and tightened down for the night.

“Come first light, we need to get out of here,” Joel mumbled as he leaned over at the waist, poking the fire with a long stick to rearrange the logs that had turned to coals before adding a few new fresh ones. He turned his head to peer over at you, then set his gaze squarely on the redheaded teen who sat across from the two of you, palms extended toward the fiery heat and her eyes studiously on the flames.

“The council isn’t gonna take long to put two ‘n two together, and I want as much distance ‘tween us when they actually do so we can just get this damn thing over with.”

Rising to his full height with a quiet groan, he didn’t even seem to register Ellie slapping her palm to her forehead and rocking her head back and forth in disbelief as he glanced down at you where you sat against a log to his left, his face twisted slightly in trepidation. “…. I didn’t mean-”

“No, I agree,” you nodded once, pulling your eyes from staring at the fire to look at Ellie in amusement before lifting them all the way up to meet his with a small smile. “Bleeding heart Miller over here probably got the town on red alert.” Bobbing your head to gesture across the flames where Tommy leaned against another fallen log beside Ellie, you grinned at Joel’s haggard sigh as he took his brother in.

Ellie turned to look at the older man with a disapproving scowl, one side of her upper lip curling back as her eyes swept him from head to toe. You could see every Joel mannerism she had picked up on as she surveyed the younger Miller, and it took everything in you not to comment on it.

Turning back to the subject at hand, you tilted your head to the side as you took in the sleeping giant.

Tommy’s legs were outstretched with one crossed over the other easily at the ankle, hands clasped loosely in his lap, and head tilted back as snores that grew with each attempt tumbled out of his lips.

“Not to mention they’ll raise the alarm when they notice Ellie and Jane’re missin’, too,” you added, watching Tommy begin to mutter softly in his sleep. You tried not to let Ellie’s wide eyes that snapped to you affect you from going on, not able to bring yourself to meet them. “Not to mention Will.” You looked up at Joel as you spoke softly, his own gaze meeting yours. “Tommy’s one thing. All four of ‘em?” You shook your head as your gaze fell back to land on Tommy. “All four of ‘em’s gonna set off all kinds of bells.”

“Not to mention a missin’ cart,” Joel grumbled, turning toward Tommy with a scowl that made the corner of your mouth tug up just slightly. You noticed in your peripherals it had Ellie grinning, too. “Which requires a horse….” He tugged off his gloves from tending the fire and tucked them into his back pocket with unneeded aggression, shaking his head. “Stealin’ all kinds ‘f’things, aren’t we, little brother?”

Joel sighed yet again, this one quieter and more to himself than anything, before taking a step over towards his sibling and kicking the bottom of his shoe with the toe of his boot. As Tommy sat up abruptly with a snort, making Ellie choke back a laugh, Joel eased to the ground beside you with a groan he tried to hide behind tightly closed lips. “Get up, mighty warrior. Get inside with the others. I’ll take first watch.”

“Wasn’t asleep,” Tommy mumbled dejectedly, rubbing his eye with the palm of his hand.

Ellie scoffed. “Dude, you sounded like a buzzsaw ate a bear. You were totally one hundred percent snoring.” She got to her feet, brushing off the front of her pants, then the seat.

“You were sawing logs, cart thief. Now get.” Joel jerked his head backwards toward the cabin. “‘nd keep an eye on Trouble here.”

Ellie glared at Joel, but quickly turned her attention onto Tommy, helping him to his feet. “Come on, Uncle Tommy.”

“Told you not t’call me that, weirdo,” Tommy grumbled, blinking too many times against the firelight as his eyes still adjusted to being awake.

The teen threaded her arm through his and helped to stabilize him, starting toward the cabin. “That goes both ways, asshat.”

“Y’know what? You’re rude,” Tommy mused, pulling away just enough to look down his nose at Ellie.

“And you’re old. Now come on, cart thief.” She started to pull him back toward the cabin, looking over her shoulder and winking at you. She looked at Joel and offered a small salute before facing back forward and giving the man a tug that sent him stumbling forward slightly. “Beddy bye is just a mere few steps away.”

Tommy mumbled something nearly unintelligible, but you thought you caught the name Sarah, not missing the way Joel stiffened at the word, staring into the fire in front of him, and Ellie looking back at the two of you over her shoulder with a somewhat panicked expression.

The teen focused on Joel for a long moment, her features pulling into something sad, then determined as she looked at Tommy and finally yanked him toward the cabin, pulling him along by his ear until they were safely inside.

As Tommy slowly got to his feet and ambled toward the cabin with Ellie, you smiled, always enjoying their banter. They obviously loved each other despite how they bickered.

And whatever this Sarah talk was, clearly it was something important, but it didn’t feel like the right time to ask about it yet. Maybe someday.

Joel glanced down at his watch briefly and cleared his throat before tugging the sleeve of his jacket down to cover it. Once the material was over the broken dial, he placed his palm over the shattered face through the fabric and rubbed it gently back and forth for a moment, staring at the flames before softly shaking his head as if coming out of a fog. He lifted his hand off the watch and set it on his thigh, his fingers gripping his flesh a little too tight and dimpling the denim under his touch.

It was then you made the connection that Sarah had to do with the watch. Somehow. And you knew that had to do with home. Texas. Back on outbreak day. The thing he missed the most.

You didn’t like where this was going.

Catching Joel’s eye, you leaned back into the log once again. “Mind if I join you?”

He just blinked for a long moment, making you grin and settle back into the log even further, letting your head loll back slightly. “Let me clarify. Mind if I stay?”

Simply shaking his head after a minute, Joel turned back to the fire after staring at you for a beat too long. “Don’t mind.” He was mumbling. “You’ll probably be bored silly, but so’ll I, so, I guess that makes me selfish.”

You snorted a laugh. “No, no. It makes you human.” Turning to the flames, you felt a different heat on the side of your face as you noticed his eyes on you again out of the corner of your field of view. He stared for a moment too long to be deemed just a friendly curiosity before Joel cleared his throat, looking down at his boots before his gaze quickly pulled right back up to you, painting your skin in varying shades of heat as you felt his eyes trace over your features once again.

Something about that heat was much preferable to the little pile of coals inches from the tips of your shoes. Much more comforting, too, considering where your mind kept wandering to. “Can’t quite get to a place my mind’ll let me sleep, anyway. Not after everything….”

He nodded in understanding, and you saw his face turn back towards the embers after a last lingering moment of taking you in. The trail he had traced on your skin with just a look still felt warm and pleasant, but now began to cool under the loss of his attention. You found yourself angling slightly to lean just a bit closer to him to try and make up for it, catch just a wave of body heat. It wasn’t working.

“How’d y’learn all that?” When you arched a brow at him in question, Joel pointed back toward where everything had happened with the raider scumbag, and the general direction of Jackson.

Turning your eyes from him to the fire, you stared at the flames as they crackled. “I don’t want t’talk about it.”

“That’s fine,” he drawled softly, lowering his hand. A moment passed before an even quieter, “But that don’t come from nothin’.” He jerked his head toward the direction this time. “We’ve all got our demons. Hell, I’ve got too many t’count.” He turned back to the fire as you turned to look at him again. “N’most’ve us’ve killed our fair share. That’s just life now-”

“No,” you interrupted him, focusing back on the heat of the flames and away from the fire in his eyes as they landed on you once again. “That I’ve never done.” You waited a moment before adding a quiet, “Least not yet.”

A memory, sparkly and worn, something you’d viewed time and time again as it haunted your every quiet moment, awake or in the dead of night began to tiptoe behind your eyes.

A voice you’d rather forget drifted to the front of your mind, clearer than anything else, as if it were right in front of you yet again.

“This is just how things work now.”

Night seemed to be its favorite, though; when your defenses were at their lowest. It’d come slinking in like a thief, ready to steal your sleep, your sanity, your time….

The rest of a phantom conversation began to play in the theater of your mind, unbidden and loud, consuming anything else in front of you in favor of its wicked games once again on repeat.

“I said no.” Your voice was weaker than you ever wanted it to be as you struggled against hands that had always been helpful, but now they only sought to keep you still. Angry tears threatened to crack your resolve with every word.

The next thing you knew his gun was out of its holster and in your hand aimed at his stomach. How it got there, you still didn’t know. It must have jumped.

Telekinesis.

Something.

It’s the only thing that makes sense. Because the alternative is that you grabbed it voluntarily, and that was a road you were not willing to travel down.

A sneer of disbelief colored his face as he held his hands up in surrender, looked down to the gun, then to you, eyes narrowing as he chuckled softly in amusement.

“You wouldn’t.”

He moved toward you, whether to move the gun or move you, you didn’t know.

You’ve analyzed it over and over again for years, and this is the point where it always goes black, blissfully giving you a respite from the rest of the gory details.

The echo of the hammer on the revolver cocking back in prime to shoot echoed in your mind then just as much as it did now. You remembered how the sound filled you with a grim satisfaction, a smirk crawling up your face now that was too terrified to even try then.

Blissful darkness continued to fill the next moments as you were lost in the memory, absently staring at the fire in silence, until a resounding phantom gunshot echoed around the walls inside your head when Joel said your name, making you jump.

When he said it again, the concern swelling in his voice made your breath stutter.

Blinking the darkness away, you saw the fire once again come into focus in front of you, and out of your peripherals, Joel leaning forward beside you, tilting his head to the side in question as he tried to catch your eye. His features were drawn cautiously.

Pulling your knees up closer to your chest as a chill ran down your spine that was from anything but being cold, you gave him a sideways look before turning back to the flames. “I’m fine.” You wrapped your arms around your legs to hold them tightly to yourself.

“Y’look it,” he teased.

Cutting your eyes his way, you found Joel smirking slightly at you, but his eyes still held concern as they studied your face, then made a run up and down the length of you, pausing on your hands briefly.

That’s when you realize you’d clenched them into fists so tight, you had indentations from your nails on your palm when you released them. With a sigh, you turned your stare back to the fire. “I’m fine, Joel.” Repeating the words didn’t help for some reason, so you continued on. “I…. I’ve never killed anyone, but….” Tilting your head back and pulling your knees tighter to your chest, you looked up at the stars. “I’ve come damn close once‘r’twice. Too close.”

“You don’t have t’talk abou-”

“The first person I lived next to in a QZ,” you started, smiling gently at his attempt to give you space on the topic. “He didn’t like the…. What did y’call it? Smelly noise?”

Joel scoffed in amusement, meeting your gaze as you lowered your eyes back onto him before staring toward the fire again absently.

“Came over after about a week t’tell me so, and I guess somethin’ in the way I said hello sounded like an invitation-”

The man stiffened beside you. “Y’know that’s not-”

Reaching out, you rested your hand on his forearm. “I’m kidding, Joel. I know I didn’t do anything, the man was just a pig.” You looked at him. “But thank you, though.” Turning back to the fire to find the words again, you took a deep breath. “Long story short, he tried somethin’, told me it was just the times we live in now, so I grabbed the gun he was wearin’ and threatened to teach him how no means no.”

A snort of laughter left Joel along with a gentle shake of his head as he too stared at the flames, giving you the space to finish your story.

“He didn’t think I would do it.” You went silent. The next time you spoke, even you could barely hear your own voice. “I probably should’ve. He went on t’do it to many others after me. Joined FEDRA. Should’ve seen that one comin’.” Clearing your throat, you shook your head and went on, voice a little stronger. “I shot him in the foot. Well, first I fired a warning shot to the side. He made some stupid comment about how he likes them crazy and lunged so I….” You made a finger gun with your left hand, pointed at Joel’s foot to your right, and imitated a shooting sound. “He gave me so many nicknames after that. So colorful. You crazy bitch, and-”

“I think I can paint a pretty clear picture, no need t’go on,” Joel said softly. His voice was gruff, not towards you, but the situation you’d found yourself in and the man with no name.

You nodded. “He’s why I left. After he joined FEDRA, he made my life hell. Made sure I got less ration cards, blacklisted me, caused all sorts’f problems. So I used what I had left t’pay someone to smuggle me out’f the QZ.”

“Nothing’s happened out here?”

“You mean outside the QZ?” He nodded. “No. I mean besides some infected, but I don’t count them. They’re technically already dead; it's just the fungus at that point. If we’re splittin’ hairs.” Looking out at the tree line, you sighed forlornly. “I used t’love mushrooms.”

After a second of silence, Joel burst out laughing, a low gravelly sound rumbling from deep in his chest. It vibrated you from your spot next to him, your very bones seeming to resonate with him. He was under your skin, and that made you smile.

“Y’know,” he started after a minute. “I just heard ‘bout the most Texan come out’f your mouth in the last five minutes than the whole time I’ve known you.”

“The most….?”

“‘I’ve come damn close once‘r’twice,’” he mimicked your words from earlier, emphasizing you’re lackadaisical grammar.

“Pfffft,” you blew out a huff at him. “Did not,” you countered, pushing his shoulder slightly.

“You’re slippin’” he teased with a grin, watching the flames.

His smile was contagious. “I’m just comfortable, is all. Comfortable and tired.”

“Oh good gracious, there it is again.” He looked at you mischievously. “Tired.” He drawled the word ridiculously now.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “I do know how to shoot a gun, Joel.”

He nodded once in understanding. “Yes, ma’am.” Quickly turning his eyes back to the fire, he glanced back up at you only once briefly, the side of his mouth twitching up before his eyes fell back down to the wall of heat.

As you sat around the campfire, it had dwindled down to just the two of you. You watched him as the firelight reflected in his eyes, a small smile continuing to pull up his face as he stared into the flames.

“What?” He asked after a minute, pulling only his eyes up toward you, his head still angled down. “I got somethin’ on my face?”

You snorted. “Besides your age, which you wear brilliantly, by the way? No.”

“Ouch,” he chuckled. “Thank you? ….I think?”

Grinning, you leaned your shoulder into his before sitting back upright. “You’re welcome.” Despite having sat back how you had been, the sides of your arms now brushed one another’s, and neither of you made an effort to move.

“So.”

He finally turned his head to fully look at you. “Yeah?”

“Why are you so opposed to Ellie moving into the garage?”

He sighed, glancing over his shoulder toward the cabin before looking out across the small camp toward the tree line. “Ugh, not you, too.”

“Is there something you’re worried about, or is it just…. Puttin’ your foot down?”

Joel heaved another sigh, eyes darting back and forth along the trees as he stared at them absently. “It’s…. I don’t know.” He paused, letting out a breath before taking another deep one as he started again. “We…. We went on a really, uh, tough trip together to get here. To Jackson, I mean. All the way from Boston. It’s been a rough road for her.”

“For the both of you, it seems,” you offered quietly. He looked at you and you shrugged. “You traveled together. If it was hard for her, it was for you, too. That’s just how it goes.”

“Yeah, I….” He looked at the flames. “I guess so.” He smiled softly before it faded. “I guess I just don’t want her that far from me.” He looked down at his hands, fiddling with his fingers, the tips of them dancing along the band of his watch before he closed his hand around the worn fabric. “Not yet.”

“It’s five extra steps, Joel.”

“I can keep an eye on her better down the hall.”

“You walked across the country together, a few more steps won’t break you.”

“You don’t know that,” he objected quickly, somewhat defensively, meeting your eyes again with his own as a dry chuckle painted the last of his words.

Smiling softly, you leaned further into his side slowly as you looked into the dwindling flames. “No, you’re right. I don’t.” He began to relax, his shoulders rolling forward as his weight slightly melted into you, staring at the flames once again himself. “But I’d like to think I’ve come to know you.”

Joel froze, his body tense once again as he listened to you go on.

Looking up at him through your lashes, you saw the firelight dancing across his face, sending him into all kinds of shadows. It could have been a trick of the light, but he looked almost nervous? His eyes were definitely apprehensive, and once you noticed that, you lowered your gaze down to his lap where his hand was once again digging into the fabric of his jeans.

“I don’t know what or who happened to you, and I’m not asking for details, that’s up to you. What I am saying is….” reaching up and across, you rested your left hand on his left forearm where it continued to press into yours with each deeper breath either of you dared to take. A small smile worked its way up your features as you saw his hand relax and unclench against the denim, his palm coming to rest on your knee instead. “You’re on a supply run for a teenaged girl to get paint. And to me?”

You turned just enough to catch his eye, finding his gaze already on you. When you realized that, you had to really think to remember what you wanted to say, swallowing roughly to remember how words worked as your eyes flicked between his own, your voice now something incredibly soft. “To me that paints a beautiful picture.”

Joel scoffed, his eyes studying your face for a long moment before he turned back to the fire that was now mostly coals, and started laughing. The sound started quiet but grew with each new round until it was a truly ruckus thing. “That…. was truly awful. And you say my puns are bad.”

You grinned as you sat back upright, pulling your knees tighter to your chest so you could rest your chin on them. He kept his palm on your leg, letting it ride just a bit above your knee and squeezed. “I have a bad influence. My roommates? Awful. All the time. Horrible, horrible puns.”

“Oh, really?” He arched a brow at you, giving your leg still in his grip a small teasing shake.

With a sigh, you tilted your head to the side to rest on the backs of your hands on your knees, studying him and trying to keep the damn smile off your face. “Yeah, they think they are so funny, but it’s really sad.”

He tilted his head back, looking down his nose at you in amusement. “Well, maybe you should teach them a thing or two.”

You grinned. It was inevitable. “Yeah. Maybe I will.”

Xxx

Tags to come!

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rushingheadlong · 7 months

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A (possibly) previously-unseen article about 1984

At least it's new to me :) Very interesting to see the band described as a "psychedelic" group, and there's some nice bits here from Brian and Tim too!

Originally printed in the 17 February 1967 issue of the Middlesex Chronicle. (Open in a new tab for better quality)

Pop Notes by Ray Hammond

(Image caption - The 1984 pop group, left to right: Tim Staffell, Dave Dilloway, Richard Thompson, John Garnham, and Brian May.)

Futuristic group

What will pop music be like in 1984? One group who thinks it has the answer to this question is based in Twickenham and called, of course, "1984".

The group comprises vocalist Tim Staffell, who lives in Teddington, bass man Dave Dilloway, from Whitton, lead guitar Brian (Brimi) May, from Feltham, rhythmist John Garnham, from Teddington, and drummer Richard Thompson, from Hounslow. They are all 19 years old except John, who is 20.

I talked the other evening to the boys about their group, their ideas and their plans for the future. "The psychedelic music is certainly here to stay," said Tim. "It makes more of music than mere sound, it makes it a whole and complete art form."

On stage

The boys told me about their stage performances. Dave said: "We use everything in our act, including things like shaving foam, and plastic bricks that we throw around." Dave, as well as playing bass, also rigs lighting to the group's requirements to provide the "psychedelic experiences".

Although the group have been playing for over a year - is [sic] was founded first at Hampton Grammar School - the boys have only recently had enough experience and equipment to become serious semi-professionals.

Last month the group won an area semi-final at Croydon in a national talent search, and it is now awaiting news of the national winners, who will have the chance of a test recording for a major record company.

There are problems that stand in the way of success though. Four of the group are students and in consequence they have not got unlimited time and money to give to group work. Brian stated his personal ambition as being "able to play well enough to respect ourselves," and while this sentiment is echoed by the rest of the group, it was obvious that big success is the wish of most members.

The boys show their many talents on stage. Brian made his own guitar (the product is amazing. It is in many ways superior to the mass-produced instruments, and has a wiring system that Brian has built and designed). All stage electronics are handled by Dave.

New ideas are always formulating in Tim's mind, although he is keeping quiet about some which he calls "the most revolutionary."

After we had finished chatting, the boys went back to their instruments and gave vent to several numbers.

Treatments

Standards like "Heatwave," receive a very original treatment, mostly due to the sounds that Brian coaxes out of his guitar. Jazz chords and electronic sounds add feeling and nuance to numbers that are often churned out wholesale.

Using two bass drums for a fuller sound, Richard's drumming, combined with the full bass riffs and the steady work of John, provides a firm basis for experiments in sound - an opportunity which is not wasted.

Whatever does happen to pop music in 1984, I hope that the teenagers then will have the chance to hear excitement of the type that is generated by "1984", one of the most forward looking groups today.

#brian may #brian harold may #tim staffell #queen #queen band #queen before queen #1984 band #text #long post //#brian #tim #stumbled across this wholly by accident while looking for articles about Merlin and Morgan #gonna go back and look for more 1984 specific articles now!

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s10127470 · 3 months

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My Wolverine and the X-Men Rewrite (Part 1)

I'm sure many of you are familiar of Wolverine and the X-Men, as it was the last major animated series based on Marvel's merry band of mutants before X-Men '97 came out....

And before Marvel entered their infamous "anti-mutant" phase of the 2010s.

(If you don't count the X-Men Anime, which was a mini-series.)

Premiering back in 2009 on the somehow still-existing Nicktoons Network, the series is about the X-Men disbanding after a mysterious explosion results in the destruction of the Institute and the disappearance of Charles Xavier and Jean Grey.

About a year later, the team ended up reuniting for two major reasons.

The MRD (short for the Mutant Response Division), a government-supported organization created for the detainment and subsequent registration of existing mutants, begin capturing mutants from all over the country. Not only that, but they’ve even taken humans as prisoners as well just for helping mutants.

Charles Xavier, who the team find out is actually alive but in a coma resting on Magneto’s island nation of Genosha. Xavier is able telepathically communicate with the team from, in the words of Squidward….

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Essentially, the explosion resulted in Xavier’s psyche being flung 20 years into the future. And Xavier himself won’t be awakened from his coma until those 20 years pass. Meanwhile, in the future, Xavier is awake, but finds himself constantly trying to survive as the future he’s in is absolute shit.

Being a loose adaption of Days of Future Past, the future Xavier’s in is one where the Sentinels have conquered the world after a war that broke out between the Master Mold program and Genosha.

In the end, nobody won.

As in this future, humanity has essentially been wiped out and mutants are on the verge of extinction, being placed in concentration camps.

But there is some hope....

Xavier in the future has formed a new X-Men team as it’s revealed that all of the original team are now dead. This new team consists of the likes of Bishop (who’s was one of the many mutants unfortunate enough to be born into this life instead of being a police officer from the distant future), an older Domino (whose present self is an enemy of the X-Men as she’s a member of the Brotherhood), and Marrow (who isn’t a member of the Morlocks).

Since Xavier is able to communicate with his past X-Men, he wants them to ensure that this future never happens.

So now, the reunited X-Men must face on the MRD, stop whatever plans Magneto has up his sleeves this time, and prevent the dark future from happening.

And all with Wolverine being the leader.

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Yep! Wolverine is the leader of the X-Men as of right now as Cyclops is not doing so well….at all.

But in addition to those two, the rest of the X-Men consists of Storm, Beast, Nightcrawler, Iceman, Shadowcat, Angel, Forge, and newcomer Emma Frost.

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WAXTM is notable things for two things.

It was also shortest-lived of the shows, only lasting 1 season of 26 episodes, which ran through the year of 2009, from January 23rd to November 29th.

This would be the sort-of beginning of an all-new shared animated universe known as the Yostverse, which consisted of the Hulk vs. Films, Thor: Tales of Asgard, and most notably, The Avengers: Earth’s Mightiest Heroes. The reason I say sort-of beginning because one of the shows that’s supposedly a part of this universe is The Spectacular Spider-Man, which came out almost a year before this show did. But that’s a discussion in itself.

Ever since its cancellation, WAXTM has gained a following and has become one of the many animated shows that got cancelled too soon and has led thousands of fans clamoring for a revival.

And to this day, people consider the show an underrated gem.

But I'm gonna have to come out and say it.....

Wolverine and the X-Men is not exactly a good show....

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It's not bad by any means, but does have a lot of flaws.

And while it did do some things right, it wasn't quite to the extent of X-Men Evolution and especially X-Men: The Animated Series.

So today I want to discuss how I would rewrite the show. Keeping what worked about the show and either strengthen or removing what didn't.

And for this rewrite, be prepared to expect changes in characterizations, looks and even voices!

For the first part of this rewrite, we'll be covering the first three episodes of the show, Hindsight: Parts 1, 2 and 3.

And for this version of the show, all 3 of episodes would premiering on the exact same night: January 23rd, 2009.

Essentially, Wolverine and the X-Men's premiere in this AU would be a full-on TV movie!

This would be similar to what Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends did as when they first premiered, they had the first three episodes packed into a TV movie.

And one last thing, I would like to credit synergysilhouette as my main inspiration for this post, as he also shared his own idea on rewrite Wolverine and the X-Men as well.

So with that being said, let's get this party started!

First thing we need to get out of way that this show would not be called "Wolverine and the X-Men".

As that title is undoubtedly emblematic of the show's greatest flaw: the focus on Wolverine.

It's pretty obvious that the original series was riding on the coattails of the X-Men films, which Wolverine was not only the most popular character of, but the essentially the main character (and the only one that really mattered, much to the detriment of basically everyone else.).

Made more obvious with the fact that it premiered just four months before his long anticipated solo film.

Yeah, we all know how well that turned out....

Apparently, when WAXTM was first conceived, it was initially meant to be solo cartoon for Wolverine.

At least in the eyes of the executives...

But to the directors and producers, this was meant to be another X-Men cartoon.

In the end, the two sides essentially came to a compromise: the show would have the X-Men as its main cast, but Wolverine would be the focal character of the show.

Everyone has already said it before, but it does bare repeating.

The X-Men are suppose to be an ensemble. It shouldn't focus on just one character and essentially make everyone else irrelevant.

For this rewrite, the show's name would be changed to "X-Men Destiny", which I feel like fits perfectly with the premise of the series.

Next we come to the tone and style. This was another area where the influence from the films is quite obvious.

Just like the FOX films, Wolverine and the X-Men is notably more serious and gloomy than most other X-Men media, even the comics at some points.

It's somewhat melodramatic and there's rarely ever a sense of levity or humor to lighten things up

I'm admittedly not a fan of this style. I understand the X-Men are a little more serious when compared to other characters of the Marvel universe, but I don't think they need to be this overly serious.

I feel like the core of the X-Men, in spite of the all bullshit they deal with, they still persevere and keep their heads up no matter what.

So for this version of the show, the tone will be a little more light-hearted.

There will actually be humor present and some characters will be the resident comic reliefs.

But don't worry, the show will still take itself seriously when it needs to.

But another area the show would see change in is the art-style.

For this version of the show, the character designs would be done by ZyalahDoodles.

She’s an artist here on Tumblr who has done some redraws and redesigns for WAXTM.

I really like her style. It strikes that balance between being similar to the original art style while still being somewhat different. And if anything, it’s actually an improvement over the original style, especially when look at characters like Quicksilver.

Like Jesus Christ, he was hideous in the original!

I know he’s suppose to be Magneto’s son, but you didn’t need to make him look as old as him too!

Like Zyalah’s Quicksilver can actually get it.

If you want to check out more of her art, here’s the link to her page below.

Next we come to the roster.

Overall, it's largely the same as in the original except we would see the addition of one more character.

And that's none other than the steel-skinned gentle giant himself, Colossus!

Not only because he's one of my favorite X-Men, it's also because he's honestly kind of deserves it.

For those who don't know, despite only appearing in the prologue of the first episode, Colossus was weirdly in a lot of promotional material and merchandising for the show.

Apparently he was suppose to return to the X-Men following the explosion, but the producers decided not to do that and just save him for the planned season 2.

I'm guessing that the promotional material and merchandising started production during the early development of the show and before everything got finalized.

And thus, it's why a lot of this stuff still shows Colossus as a main character.

It's similar to what happened with The Simpsons, as during its early years, a lot of merchandising featured Bart famously wearing a blue shirt instead of his trademark red shirt.

But now that we got our roster out of the way, let's talk about the characters.

Specifically, their voices, appearances and ages.

In terms of voices, just about everyone still have their respective VAs in this version....except for two of the X-Men.

Those two being Iceman and Rogue.

Iceman would be voiced by Jason Marsden, replacing Yuri Lowenthal.

But don't worry, Yuri would be still in this version of the show, but as a different character (who we'll get to shortly).

And Rogue would be voiced by Melissa Disney, replacing Kieren van den Blink.

As for appearances, synergysilhouette brought up how a little wonky the builds of the characters were.

Like some of the males had buff upper bodies but surprisingly thin torsos and legs, and the females were pretty paper thin.

Like, we're talking almost VivziePop thin, specifically in the leg area.

The only part of them that wasn't thin were their chests....

Who designed these girls? Greg Land?

So yeah, in this version of the show would fix some of those designs.

Particularly putting a little more meat on the females.

I guess you could say I made them....

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But for the builds of the X-Men.

Wolverine has a stocky and muscular build.

Cyclops is lean but athletic.

Emma Frost has an hourglass figure with a more top-heavy build.

Storm also has an hourglass figure, with an all-around build.

Beast...basically looks the same as he does in the original show.

So does Nightcrawler, Angel, Colossus, Iceman, Shadowcat and Forge (expect he'll actually have tanned skin)

And Rogue has a similar build to Storm.

Apart from the builds, the X-Men look largely the same as in the original show.

Though Cyclops and Rogue would definitely be getting a serious hairdo.

Since let's be real, their haircuts were pretty awful in the original show, especially Rogue's.

Cyclops' new hair would look just how it does in Zyalah's piece I showed earlier, and Rogue would have much longer hair.

As for heights, the X-Men are pretty accurate to those from the comics.

Yes, and that does include Wolverine.

However, there is one exception to this and that's with Beast.

I've always felt that Beast definitely should be a much taller character than he actually is.

(He's canonically 5'11)

But despite that, in the more recent comics, he's always shown as being bigger than most of the other X-Men.

So here, Beast is like 6'5.

As for their outfits...

Wolverine, Storm, Emma, Nightcrawler, Colossus, Angel, Rogue and Forge would be wearing the exact same outfits they did in the original show.

Beast as well, but he would also be sporting goggles this time.

(He just looks so right with them).

Iceman would wearing a modified version of his outfit from the show.

It would have a light blue and dark blue color scheme, short pant-legs and no shoes.

Shadowcat would be wearing her outfit from the Astonishing X-Men run.

And Cyclops, well....

This what he'll be wearing.

If you collected any Marvel merchandising during the 2000s, you've most definitely seen this look before.

It's kind of like an combination between his 90s outfit and his Astonishing outfit.

And in all honesty, it's really cool looking.

But weirdly enough, he's never wore this any iteration outside of the merchandising.

So I figured.....

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Finally, we come to the ages of the X-Men.

I'm reason I'm bringing this up is because of the episode, Breakdown.

In that episode, we take a look into Cyclops' past, and just like in the comics, the X-Men originally started off with the original five.

And we can clearly see that they're teenagers.

But this becomes an issue when take Iceman into account.

In the second episode when Wolverine and Beast come to recruit him, the latter mentions to his parents that Iceman is now 18.

Which would mean that three years have past since the X-Men formed.

And since the estimated age difference between the original five is that Beast is older than Cyclops, Jean and Angel by 2 years and Iceman is younger than them by 2 years, that would mean that Cyclops, Jean Angel are around 19-20 and Beast is around 21-22.

And yeah, there's is no way in hell that's the case.

I could definitely see them being in their 20s, but like mid-to-late 20s.

Definitely not early 20s!

Here, it would be established that the X-Men have been around for about 8 years, including after the explosion.

As for the ages of the team.

We all know Wolverine is old as hell!

Cyclops, Jean and Angel are 24.

Emma is 29.

Storm is 26.

Beast is 27.

Nightcrawler is 22.

Colossus, Rogue and Forge are 20.

And Iceman and Shadowcat are 18.

Now that we got that out of the way, let's go ahead and talk about the episodes themselves!

Hindsight: Part 1

This episode is largely the same, but there would be a few changes.

-All of the X-Men would be present in the prologue. Iceman would training in The Danger Room with Shadowcat, Colossus and Nightcrawler, Forge would be working on a new device while ignoring the cries for help from the four after getting trapped, and Angel would be seen spending them with Storm.

-We would get the establishment of where everyone else is once Wolverine and Beast reunite. Cyclops has living in a rundown apartment by himself, Storm moved back to her village in Kenya, Angel has been working at his father's company, Iceman and Shadowcat moved back in with their parents, Colossus moved back to his family's farm in Russia, and nobody's heard from Nightcrawler or Rogue. As for Beast, he's been hanging at what's left of the mansion with Forge, working together to see what caused the explosion in the first place.

-Speaking of Forge, he would be helping out Wolverine and Beast with their break-in. And also, and more importantly, Forge's characterization is much different. Here, he's basically like Sokka and Velma, being the team's resident tech-genius and total smartass.

-Pyro wouldn't be one of the mutants freed when Wolverine, Beast and Forge free the prisoners. Instead, his place would be taken by Jubilee (voiced by Janice Kawaye). She would end up staying with the X-Men, kick-starting one of the storylines for this series. As for her characterization, it's pretty accurate to how she is in the comics. In terms of overall physical appearance and age: she's about 15, has a slightly petite build, black hair in a bob-cut style, pink lips, brown eyes, stands at 5'1, and wears a modified version of her classic 90s outfit. It's largely the same, except with a navel-bearing shirt, fingerless gloves and sneakers.

Hindsight: Part 2

Once again, largely the same with a few changes.

-The Brotherhood has two new additions from the original version in the form of Pyro and Gambit. Yep! Gambit is a member of Brotherhood in this version of the show, as it would set up his eventual turnover to the X-Men and his romance with Rogue. And in typical Gambit fashion, he'll definitely be laying his Cajun charm on Rogue immediately. As their voices, all of them remain the same except for Quicksilver, Toad and Pyro. Quicksilver would be voiced by Yuri Lowenthal (I told you we would be coming back to him!), Toad would be voiced by Danny Cooksey, and Pyro would be voiced by John Kassir. Also, Toad will be British. Yeah, remember when he used to have a British accent?

-Cyclops' characterization. One of the biggest flaws of the original show was how Cyclops was characterized. In the original, he was intolerant, depressed grub. I get that he's grieving over the loss of Jean, but man. It's hard for us to feel sorry for the guy when he's constantly being angry and angsty. He may've not been done as dirty when compared to the Fox films, but this version of the character isn't too far behind. But here, Cyclops is will actually remain as the leader of the team, and his big story of the season (apart from the obvious) is him grappling with whether or not he still has what it takes to be leader again. And along with that, he isn't gonna nearly as angry and angsty as he was in the original. However, he will still be grieving and his depression will be shown in a way where we actually sympathize with him. This would be first shown when Wolverine tries to recruit him and after blasting him out of his room. And although he starts off looking down at Wolverine angry at first, but once he leaves, his expression eventually turns into one of regret.

Hindsight: Part 3

Just like with the last two, it's mostly the same with one notable exception.

-When the X-Men meet Emma for the first time, their reactions are a little different. Angel isn't smitten by her at all, as he already has a special somebody (i.e. Storm). But Iceman still is. But he's not the only one. The other would be Shadowcat. Yep! In this show, Shadowcat and Iceman are both, in the words of NSYNC....

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Well that's all I have for now.

Let me know what you guys think about this rewrite. And if you could, give me some ideas on how the rest of the series should play out!

But anyway, I'm gonna go play some X-Men Legends II: Rise of Apocalypse....

Peace out, yo.

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ghouloflove · 1 year

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when worlds collide (pt.2)

[ in other words, the only female member of the biggest korean band in the world goes to formula 1 race in monaco with a friend; only to meet a certain ferrari driver. ]

pairing: charles leclerc x afab!oc/fc (reader is an idol)

note(s): this social media AU has its own race schedule that may not make sense but simply try to enjoy it. “Kim Soyeon” is face claimed by Soyeon from G-IDLE (recommend!). google translated Korean, French, and Italian. i tried my best to remember how certain aspects of the kpop mechanisms but it’s been awhile since I’ve in deep. also giving charles a good season so :)

—enjoy.

part one. part three.

[ instagram ]

s0ye0nnn

• tagged thv & charles_leclerc

liked by thv, charles_leclerc, wi_wi_wi, rkive, and 4,789,654 others

s0ye0nnn a week trip to austria 🇦🇹 with taetae. went to another grand prix but no tae :( but lovely sight to see how ferrari celebrates for P1 :)

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thv goal: photo trip

view 104,765 replies

s0ye0nnn 🙃

taehyung101 bro is shakespeare but photography

lilymhe so cool to meet you!! youre so ahh!

↳ liked by s0ye0nnn

scuderiaferrari Absolute pleasure having you with us—in our squad of winners 🏆 You must be a lucky charm, hahaa!

charles_leclerc The luckiest charm I have right now 🍀 Should we be expecting you for the next Grand Prix?

↳ liked by s0ye0nnn

view 45,763 replies

s0ye0nnn too kind, but no :( i have….projects to work on, hahaa

thefourkimmies “I HAVE” SIR SIR SIR AND SOYEOON NN, PRKJECT????? OMFG IM FAin tting..

f1but16cl ….idk how to feel about this

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[ twitter ]

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[ instagram ]

s0ye0nnn

liked by charles_leclerc, lilyhme, agustd, and 6,764,889 others

s0ye0nnn “PSYCHO” track AND music video is coming out in six weeks time, Thrusday. This is a single for the upcoming movie that your 🐻‍❄️ will be featured in, “Home of Dark Webs” (a Netflix original). Enjoy these stills and on set for the MV for now :)

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agustd hair is black or blonde?

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s0ye0nnn 임시 염료 🙂 (translation: temporary dye)

soyeonssloot hes asking the real question 😅

charles_leclerc I suppose this makes up not seeing you for the last two races and you not telling me why, haha! superbe 🤍 (translation: stunning)

↳ liked by s0ye0nnn

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s0ye0nnn i’m glad 😆 but i watch dw :) p1 always….

↳ charles_leclerc Always my good charm. 🍀🤍

k.f1.pop wtf is going on.

cl164liverrr ayo ur on main, my boy

danielricciardo I guess not all good luck charms are sane then…

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s0ye0nnn

tagged danielricciardo

liked by charles_leclerc, rkive, wi_wi_wi, and 4,784,980 others

s0ye0nnn i missed Singapore since our tours🇸🇬 was always a good time, this time no different. first grand prix back after missing three, sorry for “starving” you all of my outfits, haha! p.s thanks daniel for the company 😌

and threes weeks time like until “PSYCHO” is out ;)

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rkive 재킷? (jacket?)

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s0ye0nnn got hot -_-

↳ rkive 🙃

danielricciado Hey, free food and potential snippets? Count me in!

f0rmulaaa101 gtfo

s0yeonnnsloots im loving her Grand Prix “Formula 1” era rn 😗

charles_leclerc Very nice to see you in person again, my lucky charm 🤍

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s0ye0nnn p2, red 🤍

s0yeonnssloot shes flirting on main.

scuderiaferrari Such a great pleasure having you with us again, just make sure not get lost during our two week wait for the next Grand Prix! We’re expecting you, haha 🍀

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letsgossip_kpop

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letsgossip_kpop [ Your admin 🧝‍♀️ is here TO BRING YOU THE GOSSIP ON THE STREET: Kim Soyeon of BTS and Charles Leclerc, Formula 1 driver for Ferrari, have been caught up in dating rumors! As many may know, Soyeon had attented the Monaco Grand Prix with friend Wi Ha-Jun (actor in Squid Games) four and half months back—first of many obviously. Since then, Soyeon has attended each Grand Prix expect three due to the announcement of her role in “Home of Dark Webs” and shooting for her music video of the single “PSYCHO”. She has made her return to the tracks in Singapore, accompanied by Formula 1 driver, Daniel Ricciardo. Into the juicy gossip, her recent instagram post, a photo dump, has her photographed in what seems to be an act gallery, wearing her leather jacket and the next, not. She commented saying “got hot”, but is that really the case? Charles Leclerc posted to instagram twice—but the last one far more interesting (photo 1); a woman in an art gallery, wearing a seemingly similar jacket to the one Soyeon wore in her post with a caption of “🤍”. To add on, his affectionate comment on her post, “Very nice to see you in person again, my lucky charm 🤍”. Of course, this is not the first time many have speculated they may be dating or been a friendly joke—but this is all too coincidental. Did she get hot simply because of the jacket or because the sexy driver boyfriend behind the camera? Stay tunned! ]

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letsgossip_kpop Enjoy the padlock look of Kim Soyeon in the second photo :) - 🧝‍♀️

k.f1.pop ive been here since the beginning and wowwww i may be delulu but the posts by her and his recent activity surrounding her—thats courting if i ever seen it

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psychoye0nn courting!?!? FUCK WE IN?? 1700s!?? LOR DOF THE RINGS??? 💀💀

supermaxstappen question 🙋‍♀️ why does she never post herself in the padlock?

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k.f1.pop shes a korean idol, part of the most known groups but also “Queen” of Aces and with the amount of photographers there already and some JUST there for HER….trust we (kpop) get enough by that, and shes know it too so she doesn’t do it cuz its BEEN done

lyannaa4 and?? guys and girls can be friends plus if they were dating, theres a reason they aint talking abt it??v

jh0pieeee ….is the queen of aces really going for a man that goes vroom vroom in circles on the weekends for a living ??? and is part of the most clown team? (f1 fan myself)

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authors final note: i hate tumblrs limit on photos. anyways oooo something is going on between soyeon and charles!! 😅 again in this sm au universe, soyeon is you. you are THAT bitch. or soyeon can be an “original character” if you want :) whatever your heart desires.

for the piano ig story of charles, here is the youtube link to what i was imaging for it:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3i_5hiffjCk

check it out, it is so beautiful! might write a short piece on their meeting and this what i will be listening to as i do, haha.

ALSO!! thank you all so so much for the likes, and the reblogs!!! literally thank you so much, i almost did not post the first part but i'm so glad i did! so thank you, its nice to see that people are enjoying my work :) PART THREE IS OUT! SCROLL TO TOP OF THIS POST AND CLICK “PART THREE”—ENJOY!

--and the world is yours, until next time.

#charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc social media au #charles leclerc x oc #f1 imagine #f1 instagram au #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x reader #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 x oc

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xhfics · 5 months

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Lake Pluto ~ Jiseok (Gaon)

Pairing: Merman!Jiseok x human!reader

Genre: fluff, merfolk AU, angst if you squint, strangers to soulmates?

Word count: 3k

Note: it's an older fic I wrote and it's not entirely how I wanted it to be, but I still like it

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The merfolk. You had never encountered them, but the people in town had told you all about them. How they look mesmerizing, how they only go out after the sun goes down, how they are perfect in blending in with other people, how rare they are in this day and age. The tales of the merfolk had always intrigued you, and ever since you moved into this town you desperately wanted to meet them. Rumor had it that the townspeople and the merfolk had a truce that had been going on for 300 years now. But no one had told you what the truce was about. No living soul, no written book entries, no media at all was able to tell you the reason. You had asked around if they were dangerous, but no one gave you a concrete answer.

It’s been a year since you got here, settled down and was accepted by the townspeople. It was a very small town, located by a huge lake.

Lake Pluto was the name, and the town was very proud of it. It had very warm waters, during every season of the year. Pleasant to swim in, but it was advised not to do that. It was a dark, almost black looking lake. And every night when the sun went down, there was a small mist surrounding the lake. That was the time it was forbidden to go near it. Contrary to popular belief, merfolk can also inhabit lakes and not just oceans.

The annual music festival was happening in the town tonight, preparations had been going on for a month now and all kinds of people from near and far came to experience the festival.

For you it was the very first time you’d attend it, as you had arrived in town just after it had happened last year. You were absolutely excited for it and had volunteered to help out with decorating the main stage. It looked amazing and you were very proud of it and to be part of this town happening.

The open air venue was quickly filled with music lovers by the time it started to get dark. The volunteers made sure everyone felt safe and taken care of. The town’s mayor started his speech, welcoming everyone to the festival.

The list of groups and soloists that were going to be performing tonight wasn’t that long, but they all got a good amount of performance time and you had heard that they were all meticulously picked out by the townspeople themselves, to ensure a good variety of genres.

Around 3 am it was finally the last gig of the night, and the stage was dimly lit and looked somewhat ominous with the lake mist close to it. When the band members walked on the stage, you furrowed your eyebrows and checked your artist list. This wasn’t the group that was supposed to perform now.

One of the members, who had long hair and was carrying a bass, held up his hand and started talking. “We’re filling in for the original group who got sick. Sorry about that.”

Feeling somewhat anxious, you pushed yourself to the front of the crowd to check in with one of the other volunteers.

“It’s all good.” she said to you with a smile, while looking into the eyes of one of the other band members. “They can be here. They’re cute, right?”

You were about to head back to your previous spot at the back of the crowd, but the band started playing and their music practically froze you. So you turned to look at them and enjoy the music, as it was really good and you couldn’t help but let loose.

To your surprise, you kept looking back at one of the members. He was one of the guitarists and rappers. You were probably just imagining it, but he seemed to look your way a lot of the time. The other members had no influence on you, but this guy? He got a hold of you. As if he had mesmerized you. With the music of the band in your ears and your eyes on dark brown haired member, it felt like you were the only one in the crowd.

Their last song ended way too quickly and when you looked at him one last time, you saw a sliver of sadness and anxiousness in his eyes. He left the stage before you could say or do anything. And while the rest of the crowd seemed to act like their normal selves again, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you had to see him. So you rushed to the artist tent, located at the back of the open air venue and closest to the lake.

When you opened the tent, it was almost completely empty. Except for the mystery band and one volunteer staff member of the town committee. It seemed like they had just had a serious conversation, as the staff member looked very distraught as well as a few of the band members.

“Do you know these guys?” you asked the staff member, as you walked up to her.

She nodded quickly, pushing up her glasses a bit. “Yes. They’re, uhm, friends from out of town. They’re leaving soon, don’t worry.”

She exchanged some looks with two of the members and rushed out of the tent.

You turned to face the band. “Why didn’t anyone tell us about the other band being sick? And how did you guys know?”

One of them shifted his seat awkwardly and the rest all looked at one of the members. He sighed and gave you an awkward smile as he got up and put out his hand. “I think we started off on the wrong foot. I’m Gunil and our band is called Xdinary Heroes. We heard someone in town talk about the closing band being sick. We just wanted to help out.”

You hesitated for a split second, but then shook his hand and introduced yourself to him. The other members got up as well and introduced themselves as well as apologized for the inconvenience.

The one who had taken your interest during their performance was Jiseok, the last one to introduce himself. He seemed as confident in person than he was on stage, but something about him seemed off. Not particularly in a bad way, but you couldn’t put your finger on it.

“I hope we can see each other again some time.” Jiseok said to you, as the group got ready to leave in the middle of a pitch black night.

As they left the tent, you tried following their walk to the car. But it was too dark and they had already disappeared in the mist within seconds.

The days went by and you had tried to strike a conversation with the girl from the volunteering committee, but she was hard to find. And when you asked around in town, they told you that she usually worked evening or early morning shifts and she wasn’t around much during the day.

When you had staked out in a cafe in the center of the town to find her, so you could ask her questions, it took you by surprise that you saw Jiseok at the cafe, along with a few of his friends. The girl was nowhere to be found though.

You walked up to them with the intention of asking them about the girl, but the moment you looked into Jiseok’s eyes, you had forgotten everything you wanted to ask them.

Gunil’s chuckle brought you back to reality, and he asked if you wanted to hang with them tonight. You looked at Jiseok and the other two, Jooyeon and Hyeongjun, and nodded. It seemed that the other two, Seungmin and Jungsu, weren’t anywhere close.

“They’re in town, just not here.” Jooyeon said, noticing your slight confusion.

You spend a good portion of the night with the guys, getting to know them more and more. You kept feeling a special pull towards Jiseok, and were secretly hoping that it was mutual. You wouldn’t mind that at all.

It was well after midnight when you decided to head back home after the fun evening. Jiseok came walking next to you as you opened the cafe door. “I’ll walk you home. "If that's okay?”

Nervous to look him in the eyes again, you gave him a smile and a nod. “That’s more than okay.”

You heard him chuckle and felt his hand in yours, which made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. The two of you continued your conversations as you walked to your place, and you knew you really started to like him a lot.

“Would you like to meet up again?” Jiseok asked, as the two of you stood awkwardly in front of your door.

You smiled. “I’d love to. Do you want to exchange numbers or something?”

He scratched the back of his head and looked away. “I don’t have a cell phone or anything like that. None of us do. But we always go to that cafe in the evening, you can come whenever it suits you, and I’ll be there.”

You slightly raised an eyebrow and scoffed softly. “That’s interesting. But yeah, I’ll come find you there.”

In the next few weeks, you had met up with Jiseok several times. You hadn’t forgotten your search for the girl, but she wasn’t a priority right now. Every time you met with Jiseok, the same two friends of his were absent. And you weren’t sure if it was okay to ask about it.

The evenings you spend with Jiseok were always lovely. He played some music for you, sang songs, the two of you watched movies and talked about your interests. He didn’t talk much about his own life, but it didn’t bother you. You liked the Jiseok that was with you, and you would get to know the rest of his life eventually. Or at least you were hoping for it. You really liked him a lot, and it seemed that the feeling was mutual.

The two of you had been talking about these feelings, very briefly. But Jiseok always changed the topic, and you didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable asking more about it. But the constant hand holding and brief touches of affection did make you wonder where you stood with him.

“Can I ask why Seungmin and Jungsu are never with you guys?” you asked just before saying goodbye to Jiseok.

He furrowed his brows a little and hesitated for a second. “They’re with a loved one. They don’t see them often, it’s somewhat of a long distance thing. So whenever we’re here, they meet up with them.”

You nodded, and wondered why it felt like there was more than just that. But you didn’t want to pry any further.

“Same time tomorrow?” Jiseok asked you with a smile, pulling you into a hug.

You wrapped your arms around him and hummed. “I’m already looking forward to it.”

In the week that followed, you had been trying to do some more research on the merfolk. But you hadn’t found anything new at all. Until one day.

You were at your new job, managing the front desk of the lake-side motel. The motel barely had any customers, and the ones they had were regulars. People who came here for work, and some even lowkey lived there as it was close to their work place by the lake.

On top of the desk was an envelope with your name on it. You looked around to see if you could see who had placed it there. It was already dusk and there was no one to be found. So you opened the envelope and took out a book page, along with a short note.

You’ll find answers soon was what the note said. You didn’t recognize the handwriting, so you put it aside and looked at the book page.

It was about the merfolk, and it was new information. You read that merfolk had soulmates; and when they kissed their soulmate, their hair would briefly turn into the color that it is when they’re in their natural habitat.

This was valuable information! This was a way to potentially discover any hidden merfolk that were in town. You flipped the page, but it was all blacked out. So far for more new information. Slightly annoyed, you put the note and book page back in the envelope and put it in a drawer in the desk.

“Room 3 please.” you suddenly heard in front of you. Looking up, you saw the girl you were looking for. She had shorter hair than the last time you had seen her, and her glasses had slightly slid down her nose again. But the moment you looked at her, you knew it was her.

“Uh, yes of course.” you said, not knowing if the note was from her or not. You couldn’t just ask, could you?

You handed her the key and the sign-in note. She quickly thanked you and signed in before heading off to the room. It couldn’t be a coincidence that she was here the same time you received the note and bookpage, could it?

It wasn’t an eventful evening at work at all, so you were able to casually keep an eye on her room every now and then. You had only seen someone go into the room just before the lights outside the rooms went on, so you didn’t get a good look at them. But it seemed important that you knew.

Around 5am, when you had just had your nth cup of coffee to keep you awake, you heard some sounds and two people walked out of room 3. You decided to take your break right at that time and carefully placed the ‘back soon’ sign on the desk, before quietly locking the door behind you.

You saw the girl locking fingers with the other person, who you realized was Seungmin, one of Jiseok’s friends. You remembered the note and decided to follow the two of them. Which was harder than it sounded, as it was still somewhat dark and there were little to no lights on the small dirt roads by the lake.

Keeping a decent distance, you followed them down a path that led to the abandoned pier. Which only confirmed more of your suspicions you had about Jiseok and his friends. Fortunately for you, the surroundings weren’t kept well so you could hide behind some trees or bushes every now and then. The mist that surrounded the lake had become thinner as the sky was slowly getting lighter again.

You were close enough that you could hear a bit of their conversation. And it made you curiouser and curiouser by the second.

“We need to be quick, or else the sun comes up.”

“I always hate this time of day. I already miss you.”

The two of them shared a kiss and you saw Seungmin’s hair turn from black to silver gray.

“I knew it.” you said to yourself. “I fucking knew it.”

It was beginning to get slightly brighter and you saw both their faces better, so you were now 100% sure it was Jiseok’s friend who was standing there. And you had to confront him now, or you’d lose your chance.

“Are you all merfolk?” you asked, clumsily getting from behind the bushes and walking up to them.

You saw a calm look on Seungmin’s face and you turned to his girlfriend. “You wrote the note, right? And you gave me the book page?”

“Yes, I did.” she answered. She then nudged Seungmin and said: “Actually, I wrote the note but he had the page. We planned this together. I’m sorry I never talked to you, I couldn't.”

“Yeah, but we promised Jiseok we wouldn’t tell you anything. So we had to try it this way.” he said with a chuckle. He then looked at you and explained everything.

How he and the rest of the guys noticed Jiseok’s liking for you, and how they had told him that he needed to tell you about him being merfolk eventually, or else it wouldn’t be fair to you.

“She knew about your new job and your research on us.” he said, nodding his head at his girlfriend. “Our relationship has been a hassle for us, but we figured it out. We wanted to help Jiseok by telling you our secret, so it would hopefully be easier for him and you, but he wouldn’t let us.”

“So I was hoping you’d follow us and find out.” the girl added. “We wanted you to know, so you could decide for yourself if you wanted to get involved or not.”

“Involved how?” you asked, getting all this information so suddenly had taken you by surprise. “And what do you mean with it being a hassle? Is it because I’m human and he… isn’t? But you two seem to be doing just fine?”

“Jungsu and his soulmate, for example, are both merfolk. They can meet up whenever they want, or do whatever they want. They just have to make sure they’re not seen in their mer-form.” Seungmin explained. “But for us…”

“It’s fucking hard, not gonna lie.” the girlfriend added. “You can’t meet up during the day and as you just saw, you can’t really be that affectionate whenever you want or people will notice it. And don’t get me started on-”

“What’s taking you so long?! You’re usually back already by now?” Jiseok’s voice came from the lake.

You immediately looked his way, seeing mint hair on him and an iridescent blue fishtail. He hadn’t noticed you yet as he was looking at Seungmin, who gave his girlfriend another kiss before diving into the lake, revealing his silver hair and a dark green shimmery tail.

“Jiseok?” you asked carefully, as you walked up to the pier and stood next to Seungmin’s girlfriend.

Several beams of sunlight shone through the trees and made the whole lake glitter beautifully. You saw five more heads of colorful hair pop up from the water, recognizing each of them immediately as the band that you had met for the first time that festival night.

“We’ll let you two talk.” Gunil said, his hair a gorgeous dark blue. Him and the others swam away, and the girl said her goodbye to you as well.

“Why didn’t you say anything, Jiseok?” you asked him, sitting down on the pier. You took off your shoes and dabbled your feet in the warm lake water.

He swam towards you and leaned his arms on the pier, taking one of your hands in his. “Because I love you, and that makes this all way harder for us.”

“But why?” you asked. You took the book page out of your pocket. “Is it because of the soulmate thing? I was wondering why you never wanted to talk about what we are, what we feel for each other. Are you afraid we won’t work?”

“I’m terrified of it actually.” he confessed.

You ruffled his mint hair a bit and smiled. “But it worked for Seungmin and his girlfriend, right? We can make this work as well. Soulmates or not, I love you.”

Jiseok looked at you. You were hoping he’d be happy with your confession, but he looked the opposite.

“How much do you know about the merfolk soulmates?” he asked you, pushing himself up the pier and leaving his tail in the water.

You looked at him and took in all the small features that had changed. He had very small gills on the side of his neck and his eyes were a tad bit lighter. The subtle scales on his arms were transparent but you could see them if you looked closely.

“I only know this.” you said, showing him the one sided page. "Why?" Is there more to know?”

“I won’t dare to ever kiss you.” he mumbled, taking the paper from you and crumbling it.

“Don’t you eventually want to know if we’re soulmates?” you said with a small smile and a sliver of hope.

“No.” Jiseok replied. “Because if we kiss and we're not soulmates, you’ll die.”

#jiseok fanfic #gaon fanfic #xdinary heroes x reader #xdinary heroes fanfic #xdinary heroes fluff #xdinary heroes imagines #jiseok fluff #gaon fluff

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starkstruck27 · 1 month

Text

My eighth fill for @harringrovesummerbingo!! Just like the last one, I tried to reimagine this prompt to make it original but also to push myself, so I hope everyone enjoys. Also, did you know that the inside of an elevator is called the cabin? Prompt + Space: Sharing a Cabin Reluctantly, C3 Title: Love in an Elevator Major Tags: None Rating: Explicit Word Count: 5061 words Additional Tags: Alternate universe - modern setting, Alternate universe - celebrity, Actor Steve Harrington, Drummer Billy Hargrove, Corroded Coffin, Hate sex, Enemies to fuckbuddies, Trapped in an elevator, Elevator sex, Social media, Porn with plot, Pre-relationship, Dom/sub undertones, Mirror sex, Misunderstandings, Miscommunication, Happy ending Summary: On his way to an interview, Steve Harrington happens to share an elevator with Billy Hargrove, the man he's been fighting with over social media since they met two years ago. He doesn't know why Billy hates him, but he's not about to let it go unanswered, so he hates him right back. But while on the elevator, the power cuts out, and it gets stuck with just the two of them inside. They're about ready to tear each other's heads off, but then Billy does something unexpected: He kisses Steve to prove a point. And unfortunately for him, Steve is too competitive to let Billy get the last word. Also on: Ao3

One of the most harrowing things about being a celebrity nowadays was that everybody felt entitled to knowing your business. Whether it be who you were dating, what your vacation plans were, even if you were planning on going home for the holidays, everyone thought that they had a right to know the intimate details of your entire life. And nobody knew this better than heartthrob actor Steve Harrington. Sometimes he felt like he couldn’t sneeze without some overeager reporter writing about it and making his entire fandom worry that he’d gotten the black plague. And as much as he loved his fans and the fame he’d acquired, he’d also love to go home and visit his family and friends without the paparazzi staking out his childhood home to try and get a glimpse of him.

If he were to be perfectly honest, he had liked all of this attention when he’d first started to gain notoriety. But now, after the scandal of his model ex-girlfriend cheating on him with her photographer, he was not too keen on the entire world knowing everything about his private life. It only got worse when he got a little tipsy at a party he’d thrown for a friend’s birthday and started making out with said friend, who was the frontman of a very popular metal band, and everyone started speculating about his sexuality. And of course the very public feud he had going between him and another member of his friend’s band, the drummer who just never liked him much, was not doing him any favors, either.

And of course, all of this information being released to the public meant the fans were going nuts. Some people were normal about it, but others were taking sides and getting into whole feuds of their own over who was right and wrong, making the entire fandom look bad by threatening or even actively trying to cause harm to the side that didn’t agree with them. It was just ridiculous.

That being said, he knew that one of the things that made him successful as an actor was being so popular, and to keep that popularity, he had to pay the price. Sometimes the price came in the form of feeding into the fans, giving them what they wanted, and generally being as nice as he could to everyone he met, no matter what they had to say or ask him. And under the umbrella of feeding into the fans fell the chore of doing interviews for different outlets and reporters.

He wasn’t necessarily dreading it when he walked into the office building where Buzzfeed had set up an interview with him about his latest film, since Buzzfeed usually were less about getting information out of him and more about letting him have fun doing something silly and hoping he said something significant on his own, but he knew there were some things he was bound to be asked that he was not exactly excited about. His love life, for one, was something that every interviewer asked him about, no matter what his relationship status was at the time. Steve could slap on a smile and dodge a question as well as the next guy, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed being badgered about it at every single interview.

He was so wrapped up in planning what excuses he was going to hit them with this time as he boarded the elevator that he didn’t really notice someone rushing up to him, barely able to stick his arm in the doors before they closed, and stepping into the cabin next to him with a huff.

“Thanks for holding the door for me, asshole,” the person said, making Steve look up. It was none other than Billy Hargrove, the drummer of Corroded Coffin, and the man who Steve was currently fighting with via social media for a reason he couldn’t even remember anymore.

“Oh, excuse-moi, but I wasn’t expecting to be sharing a ride with the center of the universe,” Steve snarked, rolling his eyes. “Had I known, I’d have laid out a red carpet for you, too.”

“Fuck you, I don’t want to be in an enclosed space with your ass either, but I happen to be late to an interview and I figured you’d at least have enough common courtesy to hold the door for someone when they’re running over and yelling for you to do so. But I guess I shouldn’t have thought so highly of someone who spends that much time admiring himself in the mirror.”

“For your information, I was thinking about what I was going to say in my own interview, not admir-”

Steve was cut off as, suddenly, everything went black, and the elevator stopped abruptly. It made him stumble a little bit, and Billy too, and they nearly fell into each other as they scrambled for their cell phones, desperate to get some kind of light. Steve found his first, just as the lights went back on, but the elevator stayed put as he opened his phone and called his co-star and best friend.

“Robin, what’s going on?” He asked, knowing she had gotten there earlier and was already upstairs waiting for him.

“Hey Steve, it was just a quick power outage. Where are you?” She replied, and Steve could hear a bunch of people chattering in the background.

“I’m on the elevator, I was on my way up when it happened. The lights are back on, but we’re not moving, and I have no idea what floor we’re on, either.”

“Well I just heard someone say that they have a generator that kicks on whenever this happens, but I don’t know why the elevator would stop working. I’ll tell someone that you’re on it and hopefully they can get it fixed or at least get you off of it.”

“Please do, I don’t want to be in here for any longer than I have to be,” Steve said, giving Billy what he hoped was the most unsubtle side-eye ever before hanging up.

“So, there was a power outage,” he said then as he slipped his phone away.

“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock. And now the power’s back on, so why aren’t we moving?” Billy said, crossing his arms in annoyance.

“If you’d let me finish, jackass, you’d know that something is wrong with the elevator, but I don’t know what. My friend Robin is asking them about it now,” Steve said, just as his phone dinged with a text. He opened it up and sighed heavily after reading it, rubbing his eyes until they stung. “Fuck.”

“What?”

“Robin said that even though the power is back, they think that something is up with the elevator itself, they need to get maintenance to tinker with it before they can get us moving again.”

“Fuck, so I’m gonna be stuck in here with you for God knows how long?”

“Hey, if anyone’s stuck here, it’s me with you! You couldn’t have waited for the next elevator or taken the stairs? They would’ve been faster anyway. But noooooo, you just had to get on this one specifically, and now I’m stuck having to look at your ugly mug until they can get us out of here.”

The ‘ugly mug’ remark must’ve really struck a nerve with Billy, because the next thing Steve knew, he was being pinned up against the wall, staring into fiery blue eyes and holding back the urge to headbutt that already slightly crooked nose.

“Listen here, Harrington! I don’t know why you think it’s a good idea to provoke the bull when you’re stuck in the china shop, but if I were you, I’d shut my mouth right now and keep it shut until they get us outta here! Otherwise they might not recognize you once you finally get out to do your interview!”

“Are you threatening me, Hargrove? Because if so, I can call my lawyer right now and we’ll see how the bull fares when taken from the china shop and put into a courtroom to be sued for everything he’s got.”

Billy held Steve there for a second longer, seething with anger, but ultimately, he huffed and let him go, moving to the other side of the elevator and sitting down, resolving to ignore him until they managed to get out.

That was easier said than done, though, as everything they did seemed to irk the other more and more. Steve kept tapping his foot impatiently, and it was driving Billy insane. And Billy couldn’t stop cracking his knuckles, making Steve cringe at every pop and snap. Pretty soon it became like a silent contest, who could keep their cool the longest, and after Billy popped his knuckles for the ten millionth time, Steve was the one to lose it.

“Holy fuck, would you stop that?!” He snapped, throwing his arms up in frustration.

“What? This?” Billy feigned innocence, popping his knuckles again.

“Oh my God, you are insufferable!” Steve groaned, about ready to break Billy’s hand to get him to stop.

“I’m an absolute delight, you’re just too high strung to notice,” Billy said, standing up again. “You’re always this uptight, but it’s especially bad since your girl left you. I wonder, have you gotten laid since she kicked you to the curb? I bet a good fuck would loosen you up so you wouldn’t be such a fucking dick all the time.”

“Okay, first of all, I am not uptight. Second of all, if you wanna talk about being a dick, you might wanna do a self-evaluation before you come at me! I was nothing but nice to you when we met, but you decided you didn’t like me so I just reciprocated. And third of all, I’ve had plenty of opportunities to get laid since Nancy, so fuck you!”

“Yeah, I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Billy grinned, proud of himself that he made Steve’s face go red.

“As if! I wouldn’t fuck you if you were the last person on Earth!” Steve grumbled, shooting daggers at him.

“Oh really?” Billy taunted, “How do you explain this, then?”

“Explain wha-” Steve tried to ask, but before he could finish his question, Billy had grabbed him again, backing him against the wall again and kissing him, hard. He was shocked, to say the least, and more than a little mortified at the fact that this may have been turning him on a little bit. But even though his face felt like a furnace and his head was telling him to make this stop, like, now, he did absolutely nothing to end it. Billy may have been an asshole, but he was right, Steve hadn’t gotten laid since Nancy broke up with him, and though he may have hated the person he was with, it still felt good to be touched. And that reason alone was why he couldn’t hold back a little whimper when Billy let one hand slip down to grab the front of his pants.

“Ha, see?” Billy chuckled, “Fuckin’ knew it.”

“Shut the fuck up, dickhead,” Steve sneered.

“Oh, Harrington, you wound me! Maybe we should stop if you’re gonna be that way,” Billy laughed as he stepped back, letting Steve go. He had the upper hand and he knew it.

“Y’know what? Fine. I’m sorry, you win. You’re a dick, but you win. Now get back over here and finish what you started,” Steve said, annoyed that he was letting this affect him this much.

“I didn’t hear the magic word,” Billy taunted, grinning from ear to ear.

“Please,” Steve said, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. If he weren’t so desperate to get off, he might’ve punched Billy in the mouth by now, but unfortunately, he was very desperate.

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” Billy said, his voice full of condescension. “Turn around.”

Steve actually did roll his eyes this time, but he did as Billy told him to, turning around and facing the mirrored wall of the elevator. Once he did, Billy came up behind him, grinning smugly as he reached around him and loosened his belt, then shoved his hand down his pants. Steve sighed and his eyes fluttered shut, but as soon as they did, Billy stopped moving.

“Keep your eyes open,” he said, his tone sharp and demanding. “I want you to see how pathetic you look while we do this.”

“You’re such an asshole.”

“Oh, so you want me to stop?”

“Fine, I’m sorry.”

“Good. Now be a good little bitch and shut the fuck up from now on, m’kay?”

The two stared at each other in the mirror for a few seconds until finally, as much as it killed him to do it, Steve nodded. He kept his mouth shut and pretended it wasn’t driving him nuts that Billy wasn’t working faster. Billy must’ve known it anyway, because he took his time working Steve up, seeming to delight in the little noises he was drawing from his throat and the different ways his body was reacting to his touch.

“Oh, you like that, don’t you, sweetie pie?” He said as he started to jerk him just a little faster.

“God, you really fucking love the sound of your own voice, don't you? C'mon, you gonna fuck me or just keep listening to yourself?” Steve sneered, delighting in the fact that Billy gripped his dick harder at the provocation.

“I thought you wouldn’t fuck me if I was the last person on Earth,” Billy said, clearly amused, if the way he wrinkled his nose up was any indication.

“Yeah, well, things change, so get the fuck on with it,” Steve almost growled.

“Impatient much? Maybe I wanna take my time.”

“Well we don’t have all the time in the world, you know, and I wanna get off before this stupid box starts moving again, so hurry up.”

Billy finally seemed to agree with him on something, because before either of them could get out one more snarky comment, he was opening his own pants and taking a condom and a little packet of lube out of his wallet.

“Bend over,” he said, not even looking up.

Steve was reluctant to look like he was taking orders from this guy, but his need to come far outweighed his pride, so finally, he complied. He bent over, holding onto the handrail for support, and watched in the mirror as Billy finally came up behind him, ripping open the lube with his teeth and letting some dribble onto Steve’s now exposed ass.

“Jesus! You couldn’t have warmed it up a little first?!” Steve yelped when the cold gel hit his skin.

“Oh, well excuse me, princess, but I didn’t realize it was gonna be cold after being in my pocket all day. Besides, you won’t even feel it in a minute, chill the fuck out,” Billy said, rolling his eyes. He ignored the face Steve made as he gripped the base of his dick, gathering up as much lube on it as he could and smearing it around Steve’s hole. He made sure to make as much of a mess on him as he could, wanting to make it as hard as possible for Steve to clean himself up once they were done, out of spite, but he was getting impatient himself, and finally, he started to push just the tip in. It went easily, and Steve let out a strangled sigh as it did, clearly trying to hold back the sound, but Billy heard it.

“You’re such a slut, Harrington,” Billy leered at him in the mirror, “Look at you, already open and sucking me right in. Didn’t even need any prep. I guess the rumors are true, Wheeler really did turn you gay when she broke your heart. That must be why you’re so prissy and whiny all the time.”

“Okay, first of all,” Steve said, his breath getting heavier as Billy started to pick up the pace, “I’m bi, not gay, but I don’t care to discuss my personal life with the whole world, so fuck you. Second, I’m not a fucking slut, I’ve just been fucking lonely since Nancy, so fuck you again. And third I’m not prissy or whiny, so fuck you a third time.”

“You don’t have to keep saying that, you’re already fucking me, so it just makes you sound needy,” Billy teased, gripping Steve’s hips harder and moving faster still. “And you absolutely are prissy and whiny, you’ve already corrected the things I’ve been saying, like, ten times.”

“I… fucking… hate you…” Steve panted, trying to glare at Billy through the mirror, but the effect was lost somewhere between the rumpled clothes, slack mouth and rosy red cheeks.

“I fucking hate… you, too,” Billy said, his own voice starting to break into fragments as he continued to thrust into Steve. He was so tight, so warm, and so fucking ruinable, and Billy was getting entirely too much pleasure out of taking him down a few pegs. Seriously, how amazing was this? He got to destroy everything Steve ever thought he was, take him from pretty golden boy who could do no wrong to desperate slut fucking his worst enemy in a broken elevator. Billy had never been so turned on in his life. Nothing he ever did for the rest of his life would be able to top this moment right now.

And Steve, for as much as he hated to admit it, was enjoying himself, too. Sure, this was kinda humiliating, but sometimes he enjoyed a little bit of humiliation, it kept him humble. And as for Billy, he was a dick, but no matter how this interaction ended, Steve had one little bit of information that he could use to his advantage, even if he tried to turn this around on him: Billy kissed him first. He was a willing participant after that, but there was no denying who started the whole thing. And if, at the end of this, Billy tried to go back to hating him and insulting him and doing anything he could to make his life miserable, Steve could lord it over him. With that little nugget of information stored safely away, he figured it was more than acceptable to enjoy getting railed as well as he was, so that’s exactly what he did.

“Fuck… c’mon…” Steve huffed, “Think you’re gonna… break me? C’mon, you can fuck me… harder than that.”

“Don’t think I’d break ya…” Billy grunted, “Just wanted to… give you a chance of being satisfied… by anyone else after me.”

“You talk a big game for… someone who’s been… mediocre… so far,” Steve groaned, letting go of the handrail to start stroking his cock. “I mean… you’re a drummer… for fuck’s sake. You should know how to handle… a couple of sticks, but… apparently not.”

“You think you could do better?”

“Without a doubt but… I’ll have to take a rain check. I don’t have any condoms on me and… I don’t wanna catch whatever diseases… you’re inevitably… carrying.”

“Fuck… you,” Billy sighed, rolling his head back as he let out a heavy groan.

“I thought… we already established that… you are,” Steve grinned meanly at Billy, glad that he was no longer the butt of the same stale joke.

“Shut… the fuck… up…”

And for once, Steve actually did. There wasn’t a whole lot left to be said as Billy continued to pound his ass, anyway. And there would be plenty to say soon enough, once he caught his breath again and was able to torment him relentlessly about being the first one to come. It was close, but Steve felt Billy shooting off inside of him at least a few full seconds before he started painting the walls with his own come, and he was absolutely going to make fun of him for that once they were out of their post-orgasm haze.

Once it was over and they had retreated once again to the opposite sides of the small space, though, neither of them seemed to have the brain capacity to keep the insults flying. Maybe they both knew what they did was stupid, maybe they were both kicking themselves for allowing it to go so far, or maybe they just didn’t see the appeal in their rivalry anymore. They had no idea which it was, or if it was any combination of the three, but whatever the reason, as they cleaned themselves up with whatever they could find in their pockets, they were silent. Finally, the silence felt too thick, too charged, and Steve felt he might burst if he didn’t break it, so he resolved to do what he’d planned on earlier.

“Y’know, for as much shit as you were giving me about being pathetic and uptight and shit, I would’ve thought you’d have been able to last longer. I mean, you were talking pretty tough, but when it came down to it, you couldn’t last as long as me. That must be a hard pill to swallow, tough guy,” he said, though his heart wasn’t quite in it anymore. Especially since Billy didn’t get fired up and start throwing words back at him. In fact, he didn’t say anything at all.

“Hey, I’m talking to you,” Steve said, more annoyed by the lack of response than by anything Billy could’ve said.

“I heard you, dipshit, I just don’t care to answer. Just because we fucked doesn’t mean we’re friends. I was just letting off some steam,” Billy said, flicking the crumpled up tissue that held the used condom a little bit farther away from him. It was gross, but he needed something to do with his hands, and it wouldn’t be the first time he did something gross to keep him from saying something worse.

“Fuck you,” Steve rolled his eyes.

“Nah,” Billy replied, “Been there, done that. Kinda wish I hadn’t done that, 4/10 experience, if that.”

“Okay, seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Steve raised his voice, finally at the end of his rope. “As far as I can remember, I never did anything to you, so why the hell do you hate me so much?! What the fuck did I ever do to you?!”

“Nothing, Harrington. Just leave it,” Billy said sharply, turning away, but still having to see Steve’s angry face in the mirror beside him.

“No, come on, you don’t get off that easy! You better fucking tell me before they get this damn box moving again, because if you don’t I’ll hit the emergency stop button and make you stay in here until you do!” Steve crossed his arms, staring Billy down.

“I swear to God,” Billy said under his breath, rolling his eyes, “It’s fucking nothing, and I’m not gonna fucking tell you, so back the fuck off!”

“No! I will not fucking back the fuck off! I have a right to know what the fuck I did to make you torment me for so fucking long! I have a right to know why I keep getting death threats from your fans who think the whole fight is my fault, and why I can’t go to see my friend’s band play without having extra security with me in case anyone recognizes me and decides to act on them! If you want to keep the whole thing going after this, fine! But I at least want to know why it started in the first place!”

Any response Billy was preparing died on his tongue after that as he finally turned to look up at Steve. He had no idea that stuff was happening to him, and it had never been his intention to turn his fans against him. Truly, the whole thing had started because Billy was being petty, and he never wanted it to go this far, but it was like a wildfire, it was left unchecked and now it was just out of control.

“I never meant for that to happen,” he finally said, hoping that would at least get Steve to calm down.

“Well, it is happening, so fucking tell me why,” Steve said, lowering his voice. There was no point in screaming anymore, anyway.

“It’s really stupid,” Billy scoffed, “And it’s kinda pathetic.”

“What’s pathetic is that it’s gone on this long and I’m letting it get under my skin so much. I don’t care if it’s pathetic, I just want to know,” Steve sighed, sitting down on the opposite side of the elevator, waiting.

“Fucking fine,” Billy grumbled, “When we met two years ago, I thought you were alright. Maybe a little uppity, but you were slummin’ it with Eddie and the rest of us, so you couldn’t be all bad. But then I went to use the john and when I came back, I heard you talking to your girl about me. And as soon as you saw that I was standing behind you, you just laughed a little, then turned and changed the subject so you wouldn’t have to say anything to my face. But I heard you anyway, and I was pissed off, so I didn’t say anything to you for the rest of the night and I made a stupid tweet about you just to piss you off the way you did me. I thought it would end there, but then you said something back, and then it just kept going.”

“Wait, wait, wait, that was the night you guys played at Madison Square Garden, right?” Steve asked, and Billy nodded. “Do you remember what I said specifically that made you so upset?”

“Yeah, I’ll never forget it. You said I was stupid and simple and that I ‘lacked depth’, whatever that means.”

“Holy shit,” Steve said, standing up again and scrubbing his hands down his face as he began to pace around. “Holy fucking shit. That is what this has been about this whole fucking time?! Dude, I wasn’t talking about you, I was talking about a fucking character I was playing at the time!”

“No fucking way,” Billy said, his eyes going wide as he stood, too. “That can’t be fucking true. Then why did you change the subject as soon as I got back to the table?”

“Um, because that conversation was done and it was time to move on to another? Like with any other conversation ever? You had nothing to do with it except having the worst possible timing ever and jumping to conclusions.”

“Holy fuck. I cannot fucking believe this. I am such a fucking idiot.”

“I mean, kinda, but so am I. I didn’t have to respond to your tweet, I could’ve been the bigger person and just let it go, but I let my ego get in the way. I guess we’re kinda both at fault, huh?”

“I guess so,” Billy replied, taking his seat again and leaning his head back on the wall, closing his eyes.

Neither of them said anything else after that. What could they say? It seemed a little late for apologies, and it wasn’t like they could just pretend the past two years hadn’t happened and just start over. Luckily, they didn’t have to stew in the silence for long, as a few minutes later, the elevator made a noise and finally started moving again.

When the doors finally opened on the floor Steve was supposed to get off on, he had never been so happy to be heading into an interview. He practically leapt off of the damn thing, and was tempted to kiss the ground he was walking on. But he knew he had to get into the interview before anyone got too impatient, so he resisted the urge and turned towards where he was supposed to go. But before he could even get two steps in, he heard Billy calling back to him, stopping him in his tracks.

“Hey, Steve,” he said, holding the elevator door open, “I’m sorry. For everything.”

And even though it shook him to his core to say it, Steve replied, “I’m sorry too.” But where his stomach usually flipped when he was shaken, this time, it kinda felt good. Kinda like the feeling you get when you come in from the snow to your favorite hot drink and a warm blanket. And the feeling made him think, maybe he’d been wrong earlier. Maybe it hadn’t been too late for an apology.

As he finally met up with Robin and sat down with her to do the interview, he could hardly focus on whatever was happening around him. Robin was answering most of the questions about their movie they'd just released, and he would chime in here and there with a comment or two, but for the most part she was doing the talking. Until finally the inevitable question came, and Steve had to get his head in the game.

“So, Steve,” the interviewer asked, “Your movie is all about finding love in unexpected places. Everyone knows you've been single for almost a year now, so tell us, have there been any flings this summer since you've finished filming?”

Steve had one of his usual vague responses at the ready when he'd first gotten on that elevator, but now, he couldn't help but toss it aside in favor of something else. Hopefully what he said would start getting the people online to forget about his feud with Billy and start wondering about something a lot more interesting and a lot less harmful.

“Actually, yeah. I wouldn't say it's anything serious just yet, but you never know. It could potentially end up being the most interesting relationship I've ever had in my life, and that's all I'm gonna say for now,” he said, smiling both at his own cleverness and to appease the camera. “Oh, come on, not even a name? You've just got to give us something!” The reporter said, but Steve just shrugged. He could see the headlines now, “Who is Steve Harrington's Mystery Lover?” But for once, he wouldn't mind all the prying and the speculating. At least this time, it might do him some good. And maybe, just maybe, it'd give him and a not-so-assholish drummer a chance to start over.

#hsb2024 #billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove #stranger things #fanfic #eddie munson #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers

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