#he’s obviously very embarrassed… but Mike thinks he’s amazing anyway <3

[http-byler]

☆ incandescent ☆

[richiefuckfacetozier]

Chapter 4: Don’t You Want Me

Story: It’s Not My Fault

Title - Don’t You Want Me by The Human League

It can also be found on Archive of our own

For other chapters - | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 |

“Bill, what the fuck am I looking at?” Richie blurted out. The losers had all gathered to check out Bill’s new car. He was so excited that his parents agreed to get him a car, so he called everyone over for a big reveal. Richie and Eddie were hanging out already and arrived first. Bill insisted they wait for the rest of the group to come, so they waited on Stanley, Mike, Ben, and Beverly. The minute the rest arrived, Richie sprinted to the garage dragging a protesting Eddie with him. They opened the garage door to see a big blue van. Richie was disappointed, “It’s a Mom car.”

“Rich,” Eddie began with a don’t be an asshole look, “Didn’t we talk about trying to think before we speak?”

“That only applies to hanging out with you. The rest of the world will take me as I am, you nag” Richie insisted.

“I’m not trying to nag you, just give a little perspective on your Trashmouth.” Eddie huffed.

“Fuck you very much,” Richie smirked at Eddie’s annoyance. “But it does, in fact, look like a Mom car.”

Bill touched his car affectionately then glared at Richie, “Don’t l-l-listen to him, Mama, he’s j-j-just jealous.”

“You named it Mama? It’s definitely a Mom car now.” Mike agreed. Richie turned to Mike for a high five and Mike obliged, perhaps for the first time.

“No! It’s a v-v-van that some women who are mothers d-d-drive. But it is not a car s-s-specifically for mothers.” Bill argued, almost shielding his car as if the insults from Richie and Mike were hurting its feelings.

“Are you a Mom, Big Bill?” Richie looked at him fake seriously.

“You don’t have a car, so you can’t talk Richie. Besides, Bill’s a better Mom to us than any of our parents.” Stanley defended. Stanley always either had a weird comeback or a great dry sarcastic response, there was no in between.

Bill looked at Stanley and smiled confusedly. “Um...Thanks, Stan. I guess?”

All of a sudden, Richie got really excited from the direction the conversation was heading. His eyes lit up under those huge glasses, giving him a bug-eyed expression, “If Bill gets to be the mom of the group then I am the Dad!”

Eddie, who was leaning into Richie’s shoulder absentmindedly, scoffed at this, “What makes you the Dad?”

Richie lowered his lips to Eddie’s ear, “Your Mom called me daddy just the other day when we -”

Mike punched Richie in the arm before he finished, “That’s wrong on so many levels,” Mike laughed.

“RICHIE! Don’t be fucking gross!” Eddie screeched turning around in an attempt at tackling him to the ground. His small hands were hitting every single part of Richie he could reach. The tiny jabs were powerful and calculating. Beverly and Mike were laughing at the exchange, while Ben looked wary of the fighting. Stanley whispered something to Bill that Eddie could not hear, but was sure it had something to do with ‘Get a room’.

Richie, being taller and stronger, got a hold of Eddie’s hands then flipped him around trapping Eddie’s arms to his side and encircling him in a vice grip. “Let me go!” Eddie yelled fighting as best he could but the arms around him were too strong. His feet left the ground for a moment kicking at the air.

“W-W-WATCH OUT FOR MAMA!” Bill cried exasperatedly.

Richie set Eddie down on his feet. “I can tell great Dad jokes,” Richie said obviously and he let go of the struggling boy. “Don’t you know me at all, Eds?!”

“Don’t call me, Eds!” Eddie went to try and hit Richie again but he dodged the blow by grabbing Eddie’s hand and twirling him around. Richie kissed Eddie quickly on the lips. Eddie blushed red, his breath always taken away from Richie’s affection. He anxiously looked out the open garage at the street below and prayed no one saw.

“We shouldn’t kiss in public,” Eddie grumbled but kept holding Richie’s hand reluctantly.

“Not into Public Displays of Affection, Eddie?” Beverly said as she ruffled his hair.

“We just shouldn’t.” He swatted her hand away and flattened out his hair.

Richie rolled his eyes not wanting to fight more, “Anyway, as I was saying, I deserve to be the dad of the group.”

“I don’t know Richie,” Beverly said knowingly as she tapped the edge of her chin. “Last week, when Stan and I went to the market to grab milk for baking, the cashier asked if we would like the milk in a bag and Stan said ‘No, just leave it in the carton.’”

Bill laughed remembering aloud, “And when I t-t-told him I was hungry the other day he said, “Nice to m-m-meet you, Hungry. I’m Stan.”

Ben jumped in, “Oh! Oh! And today when I said, ‘Hey I was thinking...’ before I even finished he responded ‘I thought I smelled something burning.’”

Richie turned to Stanley in surprise, “Stan...are you secretly funny?”

“My hilarity is no secret.” Stanley lowered his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s just not as up in everyone’s faces as yours tends to be.”

“There’s my grumpy, Dad.” Richie grinned broadly. Stanley’s lip twitched about to smile at his friend’s comments. Eddie suspected Stanley always feels a little outside of the group and that being considered the dad actually means a lot to him.

“So when are we doing our road trip?” Richie asked.

“Oh my god...I totally forgot about that deal,” Beverly’s eyes shining bright, “You HAVE to take us on a trip, Bill!” She grabs his hands, jumping up and down. He looks at her in alarm but smiles back sweetly.

“We must do this!” Mike added in quickly.

The group had agreed about a year ago that whoever got a car first had to take the losers on a road trip somewhere.

“Well,” Stanley piped in. The group looked at him, “My cousins live in Vermont and they are out of town next weekend. We could go there?”

“Really, Stanley?” Ben said happily, “That would be amazing, there is so much we could do in Vermont!”

Stanley nodded, “They are pretty relaxed people who most likely won’t mind a bunch of teens taking over their place...hopefully.”

“It’s December so we could probably go skiing!” Mike cheered.

Beverly came over and together they jumped up and down saying “Skiing! Skiing! Skiing!” Richie let go of Eddie’s hand to join their merriment. The three were being totally crazy that Bill, Ben, Eddie, and Stanley stood awkwardly before Bill finally said, “YES! Ok! J-j-jesus Christ guys.” They started whooping and hollering. “But first,” Bill began, “Mike and R-r-richie have to apologize to Mama.” Mike looked at the car, “I’m sorry, Mama. You are perfect.” Richie got on his knees dramatically and kissed the front wheel. Eddie and Stan gagged in horror. “Oh, dearest, darlingest, Mama. You deserve better than me in your life. Will you ever forgive my coldness?” “Alright get up, you f-f-freak.” Bill grabbed Richie’s arm and yanked him up. The two boys were almost the same in height, Richie thinner than Bill, who was much broader. “You’re brushing your teeth and washing your hands before touching me again today,” Eddie demanded. “Awwww, don’t want a smooch from me baby?” Richie made kissy faces in Eddie’s direction. The rest of the group braced themselves for an argument to break out. “I’m not a baby. Don’t call me that.” There was nothing Eddie hated more than being called a baby. As if his height and small build weren’t enough to deal with. Being called “cute” or “a baby” was the worst. “You’ll always be a cute baby to me, Eds.” Richie smirked. Eddie could not believe the nerve he had, calling him three things he hates in one sentence. Eddie opened his mouth to curse him out but felt Beverly’s hand clamp his lips together to cut him off. “And....scene!” Beverly gave them a deathly look clearly fed up with the fighting. She removed her hand from Eddie’s mouth, “Ok, Eddie? Let’s just go inside and talk about Vermont?” Eddie shook his head, “You know full well my mom will not let me go,” Eddie turned on his heels and began walking out of the garage. “I’ll talk to you guys later. Nice car, Bill.” As Eddie retreated he heard Mike say, “Ok but Bill hear me out. Can we call the car Big Bill’s Blue, instead of Mama? It’s so much cooler.”

“No Mike,” Bill responded. Eddie couldn’t help but smile at that exchange as he walked away from the house.

He stuffed his hand into his pocket to find the gloves he had worn earlier. Maine in December is freezing and snowy. He put the gloves on quickly and could hear someone’s crunching boots behind him. Richie put his arm around Eddie’s shoulders. Eddie would have pushed him off if his warmth was not so inviting. “I’m mad at you,” Eddie snapped.

“Seems like a normal day of the week situation,” Richie smirked.

“I’m serious Richie. I don’t want to be called cute or baby. It makes me feel like a little kid. I’m fucking 16 years old.” Their steps began to pace together easily. Eddie was hyper-aware of his surroundings. The last thing he needed was for his mom to see them walking so intimately.

“I know I know. I can’t help it when you’re the cutest in every room I’m in and my boyfriend who I want to call baby.” Richie let his arm fall to Eddie’s waist, so he could put his left gloveless hand in Eddie’s jacket pocket.

“Why do you never bring gloves, ya nerd?” Eddie said softer.

“Then I can’t do this!” Richie took his right hand and put it against Eddie’s warm neck. The sudden iciness made him yelp in shock.

“I hate you.” Eddie smacked Richie’s right hand away from him.

“Love you too.” Richie kissed Eddie’s soft cold cheek. His face heated up in that embarrassing way it always did. The red starting at his cheeks, spreading to his hairline and down his neck.

Eddie shoved him so they were walking a small distance away. “No. Kissing. In. Public.” He hissed out.

Richie went silent at this second rejection. Eddie could tell he was trying to take a moment to compose himself and not blurt out like he usually does. It’s a tactic he had been working on for Eddie, but could not get the hang of not speaking his mind. It was not a huge deal because Eddie loved that Richie could say anything with complete confidence. He just wanted Richie to stop getting so many ‘speaking out of turn’ detentions for avoidable offenses.

The moment lasted about one minute before he said, “What’s up with this new rule? No kissing in public. Literally, no one cares.” 

“Yes, they do. It makes people in this small ass town uncomfortable.” Eddie put his hand on his chest tapping it a couple times. This helped when his breath became short and panicky, “And we’ve always had an unspoken rule to not kiss in public. Empty hallways, classrooms, or if it’s dark outside, sure. But...I just...we shouldn’t Ok?” Richie huffed out a sigh, “I am not a mind reader like you are Eddie. I do not observe people and make calculating decisions depending on the company.” 

Eddie frowned staring straight ahead, “You make me sound like a shitty politician.”

“I’m just saying, I don’t care what people think. You shouldn’t either.” Richie branched off from Eddie, heading toward his house.

Eddie stopped in his tracks looking after him, “Aren’t we hanging out at my place the rest of the day?” He calls to Richie’s retreating back. He knew how Richie got during serious discussions with Eddie. He either makes an inappropriate joke or avoids the situation, but Eddie wanted to keep talking this out. He was not saying anything right to Richie today.

Richie turned looking at him with a sad smile, “You have to go and convince your mom to let you go to Vermont. Me being around will not help.” He took out a cigarette from his jacket and started searching his pockets for his lighter.

Eddie hesitated, watching Richie steadily then said, “Ok...right. I’ll try, but I’m not too confident about it. See you tomorrow?” Richie took a drag of his cigarette and blew it out nodding his head contemplating something.

Eddie longs to go up to Richie and kiss him without abandon. The curly haired boy’s cheeks were tinted pink from the cold. His eyes showing every emotion he was feeling without being ashamed. Eddie wished he could be carefree like Richie, but that was asking too much of him. Eddie looked at his feet and kicked the ground lightly.

“See you tomorrow lover boy.” Eddie looked up at Richie’s patient and kind face, ready to jump into his arms. He willed himself to be in control but it was so hard when Richie stared at him with those brown eyes of love.

“Bye...babe.” Eddie tried awkwardly, almost whispering it.

Richie grabbed at his chest, “I think my heart just tried to jump out of my chest!.”

“Shut up, asshole.” And with that, Eddie turned and walked away but not before giving Richie a wave goodbye.

“NO EDDIE!” His mother screamed.

“Ma, it’s only for a weekend. We will be really responsible, I promise.” Eddie knew the conversation was not going to end well. He tried to stay calm because it was the only way to get his mother to hear him, but she was in fine form tonight.

“I am not letting you and your friends go on a trip alone. You are too young. You could get hurt! What would I do if something happened to you? Or what if something happened to me and I can’t get ahold of you?” She had started to cry at this point, which just made Eddie feel horrible. He used to cry when his mom cried, but now that he was older, realized it was a manipulation tactic that she uses. An effective one.

“Maaaaa, please don’t cry. I will go to the grocery store, prepare some meals, I’ll get your medication, I’ll leave notes with the neighbors to check in on you, and I will call morning and evening! All my friends are going, this is really important to me.” Eddie was pleading, an embarrassing sight that he was thankful no one else had to witness.

“So what? You go away for the weekend? What if you decide to never come back to me?” She wailed.

He heaved out a big sigh, “Ma, listen, I am coming back. it’s just a couple days. And besides, this is good practice. What about when I go off to college?”

She sniffed indignantly, “You can go to a college nearby and come home after classes, it’ll be like nothing is different.”

Eddie gaped at her in bewilderment. He was wracking his brain for how to approach this respectfully and with dignity but the only thing that came out was, “No, I absolutely will not!” He wanted to add a fuck in there but caught himself before a disaster happened. “I plan to get out of this town as soon and as fast as possible.”

“Eddie, HOW CAN YOU LEAVE ME?!” His mother’s tears were rolling freely down her puffy face. It was a horrible sight.

“Ma, I’m going on the trip to Vermont. I’m not a baby anymore. You need to realize that.” Eddie went up the stairs toward his room. He wrenched open his door quickly and was going to slam it, but thought better of it closing the door normal. He closed his eyes, head leaning against the door. After composing himself, he turned to get ready for bed and saw someone on his bed.

He let out a silent scream because he was in so much shock nothing could even come out. Heart racing, he realized it was Richie.

“I love it when I can take your breath away, Eddie.” Richie grinned broadly.

Eddie quickly locked his door. “How did you get in here?” He asked horrified.

Richie shrugged, “You leave your window unlocked.”

“I live on the second story!” Eddie racked his hands through his hair willing himself not to pull it out from frustration.

Richie watched Eddie with a weird expression as if he was anxious about something. He sat cross-legged on the bed, leaning against the wall casually. His face was flushed and his eyes were really tired, almost like he aged in just the few hours they had been apart. Richie cleared his throat, “Easier climbing in then climbing out, trust me.”

Eddie nodded then bounded over to his closet. He took a step in to grab an extra blanket and pillow. “Eddie no! Don’t go back into the closet! Who will I make out with then?!” Richie yelled dramatically. “I guess Mike is probably my backup.”

Eddie shushed him, “Richie! Shut up. Mom will hear you. Also, Mike would never kiss your ugly face.”

“I am a fucking catch, don’t pretend otherwise.” Richie bragged, “And no she won’t. I’ve slept over many times and Mrs. K can’t hear a thing when the tv is on.” They went silent to listen, and sure enough, the only sound that could be heard was the tv blasting from the living room.

Eddie tossed the blanket to him and put the pillow next to his own. Richie wrapped himself in the blanket so the only thing that could be seen was his face. “Oh, my stars! Do I get to sleep in the same bed as the great Mister Kaspbrak?” His girly southern girl was getting a little better.

Eddie rolled his eyes, “Only if you want too.”

“I get to be little spooooooon!!!” Richie sang. Eddie was grateful for Richie’s ability to make light of any tension. “I feel so scandalous,” Richie wiggled his eyebrows in what he probably thought was a sexy way. Eddie would never tell him that it did look adorably hilarious.

“I’m going to brush my teeth and wash my face. Do you need a toothbrush?” Eddie walked over to his desk to see if he had extra toiletries.

“Nah, I’ll just use yours baby boy.” Richie wiggled his eyebrows again.

Eddie gagged at the thought, “You absolutely will not.”

“That’s not what your mom said when I-“

Eddie unlocked and opened his door quickly so he didn’t have to hear the terrible Mom joke.

He went across to the bathroom and began his evening ritual. He washed his face, put on lotion, then began brushing his teeth for 5 minutes. He took a look at his watch trying to stay focused on brushing every inch of his teeth but kept thinking about Richie sleeping in the same bed as him. They’ve shared beds before, up until 13 then Richie would take the floor and Eddie the bed. Even at Richie’s place, he always wanted Eddie to take the bed so he would feel comfortable. Now that they were dating, it occurred to Eddie they have not slept over at each other’s places in a while. It will be fine. It’s just Richie. Eddie thought, but he tapped his chest to keep the panic down.

When he went back into his room, firmly locking the door behind him, he looked over at Richie. The boy had taken his glasses off and was laying down with his eyes closed. He was not breathing heavily or snoring, which meant he was resting his eyes. His body was still cocooned in the blanket but his head was free. His dark curls were sprawled on Eddie’s pillow. Eddie swore Richie looked more like a movie star than a regular teen. Since he was not cracking jokes or making weird faces, he had a blissful expression. Eddie admired his long dark eyelashes. It was crazy to think he was ever not infatuated with this boy.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts. Focus Eddie. He thought while going to his closet to grab pajamas and began stripping off his clothes to change.

“Nice undies,” Richie’s amused voice came from the bed.

Eddie blushed furiously, “Your sister thought so too.” To which Richie laughed.

“Not that I actually can see them. You’re more like a blurry blob from this distance.” Richie mused. “The most beautiful blob I know.”

“You flatter me,” Eddie chuckled putting on a baggy sweatshirt and pajama shorts. He came over to the bed. Richie got up so Eddie could turn down the sheets for them. Richie snuggled in and Eddie climbed in facing him.

He brought his hand to Richie’s face lightly caressing his cheek. Richie let out a contented breathe that was toothpaste minty fresh. He closed his eyes again. Eddie waited a moment then asked, “Do you want to talk about today?”

“Today was just like any day,” Richie said nonchalantly. “My boyfriend won’t be intimate with me in public because apparently, this small town is fucking uncomfortable with it.”

Eddie tried not to get offended at the unnaturally flippant tone, “Richie, I just don’t want…”

He continued speaking over Eddie keeping his eyes firmly shut, “So to prove him wrong, that in fact, no one gives a shit, I came out to my parents.” The gravity of this statement made Eddie’s heart pound and his ears ring a little. The hand he had on Richie’s face frozen.

“How did they…”

“They took it pretty horrible. Dad would not look at or speak to me and his face was disgusted. My drunk ass mother went on a long tirade about how if she had a daughter this would not be an issue. She wouldn’t have to deal with a faggot son.” Richie opened his eyes to stare at nothing in particular then added lamely, “As if girls aren’t gay too sometimes, that’s really not fair to the Lesbians.”

Richie’s expression was so heartbreakingly sad that Eddie thought the boy would cry. Instead, it was Eddie who started to tear up. The combination of the fight with his mom and now finding out his actions led to his best friend being hurt, it was too much.

Eddie went to retract his hand from Richie’s face. How could he even want to be near me? But as his hand left, Richie grabbed it and planted it back.

Tears were falling heavily now as he said, “I’m so s-sorry, Rich. It’s all my…”

“Shut up. It’s not your fault.” Richie said furiously. He took his hands and locked them behind Eddie’s back to pull him closer. “Why are you crying? I’m the one who was called a fag today. By the way, why are cigarettes and gays called fags? They have nothing to do with each other.” Richie frowned thinking for a moment. Eddie took a shaky breath trying to stop his tears from becoming sobs. Then Richie added, “I want to be called something cool, like a vampire.” Richie made a ridiculous Dracula face: revealing his perfect teeth and mimicked going for Eddie’s throat.

Eddie gave a sobbing half-laugh pushing his face away. Then tried to bring them back to the situation at hand, “I just could not say the right words to you today. I saw the look on your face earlier and should have made us talk more before you went home.” He watched Richie press his lips to Eddie’s palm lightly. “I wish we could kiss in public, but until I get the courage to tell my mom. We just can’t.” Eddie tried to get his breathing under control. Richie began rubbing small circles through the fabric of the sweatshirt. In felt relaxing and sweet. “You are so carefree and the bravest person I know. I cannot believe you were able to just tell them like that.”

“You are plenty brave too. It took a lot of courage to stand up to your mom like you did,” Richie said quietly.

“Heard that did you?” Eddie chuckled waterily. He brought his head closer so their foreheads touched.

“I did. It was hot hearing you be so strong.” Richie kissed Eddie’s cheek. Eddie smiled at being called ‘hot’, it was a nice change from ‘cute’. Then Richie blurted out, “Can we stop feeling sorry for ourselves and fool around now?”

Eddie barked out a laugh, “We have school tomorrow, we should sleep.” Richie’s hands were starting to do distracting things as he ran them slowly up and down Eddie’s sides over the sweater.

Eddie gently ran his hands through Richie’s black curly hair, aware as he did that Richie was watching him through half-lidded eyes. It was so unusual to look at him without his glasses. He had big eyes already, but the lack of magnification was foreign. Those beautiful golden brown eyes getting darker as Eddie reached behind to keep both hands around the back of his neck.

“Fuck it. You’re right. I hate feeling sorry for myself.” Eddie leaned forward and touched Richie’s lips—not a kiss right away, just a brush of lips against each other. It was enough, Eddie felt Richie’s pulse speed up, and he leaned forward, trying to capture Eddie’s mouth with his.

Richie shifted to hover above Eddie, an intimate position they had never done before. Richie tending to be bolder than Eddie with everything. Richie’s hands slid around Eddie’s waist, up under his sweater. Eddie’s breath hitched a little at the cold hands on his back, but he did not pull away. He always loved the way Richie held him. Careful, but not too gentle, not so gentle that Eddie ever felt Richie was more in control than he was. Eddie liked that about their relationship, liked the way his heart hammered uncontrollably.

Richie’s hand went to Eddie’s heart, “Your heart’s beating so fast,” Richie whispered.

“It always does when you’re around,” Eddie said bringing their lips back frantically in case Richie was about to make fun of him.

He dug his fingers into Richie’s shoulders, into the fabric of his T-shirt, feeling the resistance of the muscles underneath, and kissed him with all the desperation of the day.

He took his hands off Richie’s shoulders, gripping the front of Richie’s shirt, and pulled him against his body. He let Eddie do it with no resistance, folding his body against Eddie’s until they were pressed together everywhere—chests, hips, legs—like puzzle pieces. His hands slid back down to Eddie’s waist and he kissed him, long and lingering, making Eddie shudder.

Their hearts were slamming together through the layers of fabric that divided them. Eddie was drowning in it, in the sensation of Richie kissing him; of letting his hands slide freely over his skin.

Eddie hesitantly slid his shaking hands under the hem of Richie’s shirt, and let his fingers slowly explore what was underneath: the tight, hot skin over his ribs, the angle of his hipbones above the waistband of his pajama pants. This was uncharted territory for him, but it seemed to be driving Richie crazy. He was moaning softly against his mouth, kissing Eddie harder and harder, as if it would never be enough.

Then Richie broke contact and rolled over. They were both panting. One of Richie’s hands had not left Eddie’s waist and the touch was enough to make Eddie explode inside.

“Why…” Eddie said between a big breath, “Did you stop?” He was suddenly feeling very self-conscious. Thinking that maybe he did something wrong. He could feel his flushed face redden even worse.

“I didn’t want to get carried away,” Richie said chuckling. “You get me hot and bothered, Eds.”

Eddie smiled, “How are you the more sensible person when we make out?” They both laughed. Eddie took deep breaths to let his face return to a normal shade. Richie removed the hand from Eddie’s hip and turned to his side. He reached over and grabbed Eddie’s hand to bring it around his waist.

Eddie intertwined their fingers as he snuggled against Richie from behind. “You weren’t kidding that you wanted to be the little spoon?”

“I never kid around about s-s-spooning.” Richie yawned through the last word. Eddie squeezed his boyfriend’s hand as he closed his eyes. It did not take long to drift into sleep.

[notsoguiltykpop]

The Tenth Floor pt4

Min Yoongi had gone through 34 secretaries in the past 24 months, and each one of them left in tears. This fact alone should have warned you against taking the job, but the pay was too good to pass up. Surely you could put up with a billionaires temper-tantrums, right?

Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Fluff, humor, probably some angst

Warnings: Strong language at times, maybe some slight smut eventually

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13

“You seem to be settling in well.” 

You looked up from the files you were re-organizing for Yoongi to see Namjoon standing in front of you with a smile. He had been the one to hire you, but you hadn’t seen him since, and you had to admit it was good to see him. You hadn’t realized it when he interviewed you, but he seemed a lot more sane and normal than any of the other people there.

“Yeah, so far so good.” You returned his smile, bending the truth slightly. It wasn’t like you had expected this to be a dream-job, but also hadn’t realized what a pain everyone else who worked there would be. 

“Yoongi hasn’t been too horrible, then?” Namjoon raised an eyebrow, sitting down across from you. 

You shrugged. “I’m sure running such an important, large company puts a lot of stress on him.” You said rather than answer his question.

“In other words, he’s crazy, but you can handle him.” Namjoon laughed, and you couldn’t help but join in. Min Yoongi was crazy. Not even a half-hour ago, he had started screaming that someone stole his checkbook, only for you to walk in and tell him it was in the top right drawer of his desk (you had seen him put it there the previous day).

“Maybe a bit. But I can certainly handle him.” You agreed. 

“I have a good feeling about you.” Namjoon said suddenly. “I’ve hired people from all over the place, from amazing schools or with years of experience... But there’s something about you. I really think this is going to work.” You were relieved for a moment, thankful that someone believed in you. But then Jimin wandered over, flicking Namjoons shoulder.

“You’ve said that shit before.” He said with a sigh.

“Have not.” Namjoon replied indignantly. 

“Have too.” Jimin snorted. “Remember Mike? You were positive he was perfect for the job. And Melissa? You said there was no way for it to go wrong. And then there was Kevin...”

“Okay, stop.” Namjoon said, obviously flustered. You tried not to be disappointed. The only person who believed in you apparently believed in every other employee who had failed. 

“Face it, Namjoon. You’re a terrible judge of character.” Jimin said, patting Namjoon shoulder sympathetically before walking away. Namjoon turned back to you looking rather guilty.

“I really do have a good feeling about you. And I talked to Yoongi yesterday, he doesn’t seem to mind you.” He was trying to make up for what Jimin had said, but you really wanted the conversation to end.

“Thanks, I appreciate it--really, I do. But is there something that I can help you with? If not, I really do need to get this done and I have some phone calls to make...” 

“Right, yeah, of course you do.” Namjoon stood abruptly, still looking embarrassed. “I actually need to speak with Yoongi for a minute, so if you’ll excuse me...” He nearly ran into Yoongi’s office door in his haste to get away, and you shook your head as you returned to your work. Somehow, you didn’t think Namjoon was actually going to be any help to you while you worked there.

“Let me guess, you missed the bus again?” Kim Taehyung said through the phone. Your day had dragged on for what felt like forever, your lunch break practically non-existent because Yoongi had decided that all of his filing cabinets needed to be reorganized (which they did, they were a total mess, but it was still tedious work that took a while). You had missed the bus again, but at least this time you weren’t soaking wet with a broken heel. “I’m not far, I’ll be there in a few.”

You might have been able to leave earlier if you had really pushed for it, but you were still hoping to somehow get on your bosses good side--though, you were starting to wonder if he even had one. After Namjoon was done talking to him, Yoongi had been in a significantly worse mood. He had complained about everything--his schedule, his coffee, the fact that he thought your shoes were ugly--before dumping piles upon piles of paper on your desk. 

Missing the bus was also a good excuse to call the strange taxi-driver you had met the day before.

“So tell me, how exactly does one barely miss the bus two days in a row?” Taehyung asked when he pulled up, rolling the window down and greeting you with a smile. 

“It’s a long story, but it’s just as well. I have some shopping I need to do anyway.” You said, not sure why you were telling the driver this. “Apparently my shoes are ugly, so I’m going to get some new ones at the mall...”

Taehyung twisted around in his seat so he could see your shoes for himself before he started driving. “They don’t look so bad to me.” He said thoughtfully. “And what do you mean, ‘apparently’ they’re ugly? Don’t you like them?” He pulled away from the curb as he spoke, glancing at you briefly in the rear-view. 

You shrugged, looking down at your flats. You didn’t think they were ugly, but you weren’t sure you wanted to put up with another day of Jimin and Yoongi both criticizing them. 

“I wouldn’t have bought them in the first place if I didn’t like them.” You sighed. “It’s other people who have a problem with them.” 

Taehyung raised an eyebrow. “And you care what they think?” 

“I mean, no, but--”

“But you’re going to replace perfectly good shoes because someone whose opinion you don’t care about says they’re ugly?” You weren’t sure how you felt about Taehyung-the-taxi-driver hinting that you were conforming to other peoples standards, and shifted slightly in your seat. Taehyung didn’t wait for you to answer, simply continued with another question. “Are they against your companies dress code or something?” You assumed he was referring to your shoes.

“No?” 

Taehyung seemed to be personally insulted that someone had a problem with your shoes, which was very odd. “So what difference does it make to you what other people think about your shoes?” 

You wanted to argue that you didn’t want to give Jimin a reason to bully you, or for Yoongi to have another reason to hate you, but it sounded childish in your own mind. What did you care if Jimin said rude things to you? And if Yoongi fired you over your shoes, then maybe working for him wasn’t worth it after all. “It doesn’t really matter...” You agreed slowly, and Taehyung pulled over.

“Good, so I’m not driving you to the mall, right?” He looked at you in the mirror again, grinning so hard that his smile looked more like a box than anything else. 

“I... Guess not? But...”

Taehyung blinked, then laughed. “So are you free the rest of tonight?” 

You couldn’t believe this. Was your taxi driver asking you out? That was ridiculous. “I don’t know...” You started. You really should catch up on sleep, this job was draining and you needed to be alert in the morning. 

“Nothing weird, I promise. There’s just something I’d like you to see.” 

The last part could be taken in a number of ways, but there was something about Taehyung that made you think he meant it in the most innocent way possible. “Okay.” You agreed, not entirely sure why. There was no reason for you to go anywhere with him, unless it was to drive you home.

“Fantastic. I promise you won’t regret it.” Taehyung pulled back into the street quickly, before making a U-turn and driving the other way. He didn’t tell you where you were going, and you didn’t ask. 

You sat back and enjoyed the ride, still not completely sure about your shoes. But since when had you cared so much about other people opinions? Maybe working there was already getting to you more than you thought it was. 

“We’re here!” Taehyung sing-songed as he pulled into a parking spot. It didn’t take long to figure out where “here” was, you had heard of it enough times. You were at the base of a mountain just outside of the city that had stairs leading up to an overlook that had been carved into the side. You had never taken the time to see it yourself, but you knew many people who had. 

“Why here?” You asked as you stepped out of the car. Taehyung spun his keys around his index finger as he walked toward the steps. 

“It helps put things in perspective.” He shrugged. “Race you to the top!” He was gone before you had time to respond, giggling as he ran.

“Hey!” You followed him, even though climbing that many steps wasn’t something you were at all in the mood to do at all. It wasn’t long before Taehyung tired and you caught up with him.

“God, I’m hungry. Did you bring food?” He asked, and you made a face at him.

“I didn’t even know where we were going, why on earth would I have brought food?” You snorted. Taehyung was strange to say the least. 

“Okay, point taken.” Taehyung sighed. The two of you paused for a moment while a couple and their dog passed you going the other way. 

“How far is it to the top, anyway?” You asked. 

Taehyung shook his head. “How should I know? I don’t count. Maybe like...three hundred?” The number didn’t sound even remotely accurate, but you didn’t press the matter.

When you finally arrived at the pavilion, Taehyung seemed out of breath, but you were distracted by the view. You had been too focused on not tripping on the stairs to notice it before, but now it was as though everything else had fallen away. The skyline was bright with colors, and seemed to glow from within. You walked forward to the railing that was to keep people from accidentally stepping too far, leaning over it slightly to take it all in. 

“Told you that you wouldn’t regret it.” Taehyung said, walking up behind you. 

“It’s incredible.” You agreed. “But why did you think I needed to see it?”

Taehyung pointed toward the city, obviously at a specific spot. “See that building? That’s where you work.”

“Okay.” You said, spotting it among the many others. “So?”

“So look how tiny it is.” 

You looked. You supposed it did look rather small from here. “Okay.” You said again, slowly this time. 

“And your boss is even tinier.”

You weren’t sure how this was supposed to help, but it did make you laugh. The idea of a very angry, pocket-sized Yoongi was amusing to say the least. 

“All your problems are small too, from here.” He said, leaning against the rail. He was rather tall, and had to bend over significantly to do so. “They seem big when you’re dealing with them, but when you step back and really look at them, they’re not so bad. Are they?” He looked over at you, and you watched the city for a moment before replying. 

“No, they’re not so bad.” 

You walked into work the next day feeling rejuvenated. Taehyung had lied when he said he’d let you pay him the next time he drove you somewhere, but he had let you buy him a snack after you descended the mountain the previous night. 

“Morning, Jimin.” You said with a smile when he stepped into the elevator with you. He raised an eyebrow before glancing at your shoes. 

“Same shoes as yesterday.” He commented.

“I like them.” You said with a shrug. “You don’t have to wear them, so what difference does it make to you?” Jimin didn’t seem to have much to say to that. 

Jungkook was sipping coffee by the coffee pot again (you had yet to actually see him work) and you waved as you approached. “You appear to be in my way again, Dr. Jeon.” You said. When he made no move to get out of your way, you sighed. 

“I like standing here.” He said. “And maybe I wanted to apologize for yesterday, I think we got off on the wrong foot.”

“No hard feelings, just move.” You said, motioning for him to do so. He stepped sideways after a second. 

“Really no hard feelings?” He said hopefully. 

“No. I just said that to get you to move.” You gave him a smile. “I really don’t like you.” 

You knocked only briefly before walking into Yoongi’s office, and he didn’t bother to look up from whatever he was doing.

“Here’s your coffee, sir.” You said, setting it on the desk. All you could think about was pocket-sized Yoongi, and you had to bite back a smile. “And I wanted to remind you that you have a meeting with shareholders at eleven.”

Your boss finally looked up at you. “That’s today?” He said, blinking at you blearily. That was when you noticed that he was wearing the same clothes that he had been the previous day. 

“Yes, it is. Sir, did you sleep here?” The more you looked at him, the more you noticed. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his hair was sticking up in places. His tie wasn’t tied, and his shirt was full of wrinkles. 

“Sleep?” He repeated, then blinked again. “No.” He went back to the papers he was reviewing. 

“Did you stay here all night?” You asked instead. 

“Yes, though I don’t know why you feel the need to know that.” He said. 

You bit your lip. You knew it would be best to just leave now, but you couldn’t just let him show up to a meeting like this. “Sir, I think you should go home and change.” It was dangerous, but you were feeling confident. 

“What?” He didn’t sound angry when he looked back up at you, perhaps to sleep-deprived to manage it. 

“Your clothes are wrinkled and you look...” You tried to think of a polite way to say it. “Like you could use some sleep.” He stared at you for a moment more. “I just think it would look better to the shareholders, that’s all.” Your confidence was ebbing quickly, and you looked down at your shoes. 

“You’re right.” He said, and you looked up in surprise. “Shareholders don’t want to see their CEO looking like death warmed over.” He nodded as he stood and stretched. 

“You don’t look like death warmed over.” You said. He didn’t, he just looked like he had pulled an all-nighter. 

“I’ll be back in time for the meeting.” He said as he picked up his blazer from the back of his chair. “Gather my notes, and make sure that Hoseok actually finished the presentation. And by the way,” He turned to you before he left his office. “You’re coming too.” 

The day was off to a good start, and you couldn’t quite believe it. Maybe you’d call Taehyung after the meeting and thank him.

Yoongi was back in time for the meeting, just as he said he would be. He then piled his notes into your arms and motioned for you to follow him. You had found Hoseok earlier, confirmed that he completed the presentation, and even looked over it, finding a typo that you were thankful you caught instead of Yoongi at the meeting. 

Seokjin gave you a wave as you followed Yoongi past him, but he looked confused. You did a quick mental check that you had both of your shoes on and your hair was combed, and decided it couldn’t be something about the way you looked that was confusing him. You figured you could ask later. 

When you walked through the double doors and into the giant meeting room on the ninth floor, it was already full of people. You glanced briefly around the room, noticing how many of the people sitting around clearly already knew one another. As you did, however, you noticed one man sitting alone, playing a game on his phone with the volume up. 

You did a double take before realizing who it was. “Taehyung?” You said before you could stop yourself. Yoongi gave you a look, he was about to start the meeting, and you sat down before making an idiot of yourself. Taehyung looked up when he heard his name, however, and gave you a little wave.

The meeting passed quickly, but you couldn’t focus properly on what was being said, even though you knew it was your job to. You took notes, hoping that would help. What Kim Taehyung the taxi driver was doing there was something you wanted to find out as soon as possible, and it was difficult not to grab his elbow and drag him out of the room. 

Even when the meeting ended, you stayed by Yoongis side, greeting people politely when they introduced themselves. When you had a moment, you turned to Yoongi. Things had gone surprisingly well that morning, so you hoped they would continue going so well if you asked a question. “Who is that?” You nodded towards Taehyung. 

“That,” He sighed. “Is Kim Taehyung. I thought these things bored him. Do you know him?” It was his turn to look curious, but you didn’t know what to say to that. Did you know him? Apparently not.

“It’s a long story.” You said, watching as the man in question approached the two of you. 

“Taehyung, long time no see.” Yoongi gave him what you supposed was meant to be a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. 

“Yoongi.” Taehyung nodded. “I thought it was about time to show an interest in my company.” 

“It isn’t yours.” Yoongi said, his voice deadpan. 

“It’s mine enough.” Taehyung shrugged. 

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean.” There was a tension in Yoongis voice that you hadn’t heard before. You had heard him angry, but it didn’t seem like him to hold back. 

“Then let me clarify.” Taehyung took a step forward. “It’s mine enough that I can make changes if I see fit.”

Yoongi laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Oh? Forgive me, but since when do you have an interest in this company?”

You looked between the two of them. This was weird. 

“Since it took my fancy.” Taehyung smiled before turning to you. “Good to see you.” 

You weren’t sure if it was good to see him. “You said you were a taxi driver.” You said flatly. “You drive a taxi.” 

“I do a lot of things.” Taehyung nodded. “Which reminds me, I have to go. I’ll see you both soon.”

“The next meeting isn’t for two months.” Yoongi raised an eyebrow. 

“Who says I have to wait for that?” Taehyung laughed. “You’ll be seeing a lot more of me from now on.” And with that, he left.

A/N Um. I don’t know what to say. It’s a lot longer than last time! Almost 4k words lol. I would apologize for this being un-edited, but I think this is just going to be my lazy fic, I’ll fix it later. I think most of you didn’t really trust Taehyung to begin with, so did this surprise you? Thank you for reading!! As always, let me know your thoughts/feelings! Love you all <3 <3 <3

[nicksilveirart]

(SING!) Story Not Told, Chapter 17 – Love Interruption (FINAL CHAPTER)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9 (MATURE)

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

This is the final chapter of 'Story Not Told'. To read it, click here:

"Bad boy really isn't your style." "I just wanted to tease him, love." Ash laughed. "I didn't know you had to turn the doorknob thrice for it to open." "I never thought I'd see you trying to be badass." "You should've seen when I paid him a visit at the Cove. I literally gathered all my badass to teach him a lesson." Buster popped a can open, and handed it to Ash. "Thanks. You're not a bad roommate." He shot her a bored look, and leaned against her. "Thanks. And well… he opened the game enough for us to watch this." "Suits him just fine." She chuckled. "He's a jerk." Just outside the window, two floors below, Becky and Lance argued over what the girl had just witnessed. Little they knew they were being watched, and were now the reason of a bet. Buster bet that they'd get back together, while Ash bet they wouldn't, and Lance was going to get hurt. The loser would have to clean the apartment for a month. Neither of them considered that alone to be something bad, since Ash was used to doing all the hard work by herself, and Buster wouldn't mind doing it for her. So they added something else to it. If Ash lost, she'd have to wear a dress at the theatre's opening. If Buster lost, he'd have to dress up like a punk. And play a song in front of all competitors. And risking a dress seemed fair, if she was to see that if she won. Shaking hands, the bet was up. Ash didn't know much about Becky, but figured she wouldn't like seeing her boyfriend asking his ex to get back with him. Let alone praising her. For her, the bet was as well as won. Said and done. Not long after, Becky declared she was through with Lance, and when he tried to prevent her from leaving, she smacked him in the face. On the window, Ash cracked up, while Buster buried his face in his hands. The other guy looked up at the couple. "Screw the two of you!" "Hey, we're not the ones having a bad day!" "This is not funny Ash, where am I gonna stay now?!" "Oh, I'm sure you'll find a place. Or another dumb girl who'll let you crash!" "SHUT UP!" The window above opened, and a bucket appeared. Buster quickly rushed Ash inside, and the bucket fell on Lance. "YOU PUNKS!" "Is he usually like that?" "Yeah, he is. He hates noise. He always tried to do this when we played, so the house is soundproof. It's not professional because we did the soundproofing ourselves, but at least no one complained anymore." "Good, that's useful." She shot him a dirty grin. He blushed deeply. "Not that kind of useful!" The girl laughed, pulling him into a kiss. "One of the uses, it is." He nodded, giving her a shy smile. She went back to the window and looked down at the other porcupine, who was now soaked wet. "Look on the bright side… if you need a shower, just come here and yell!" "You piece of sh-" Ash didn't let him finish, as she knew the length of Lance's vocabulary when it came to cursing someone. He was the guy who stood awake for hours on end perfecting a Japanese text only to curse on a panda in her native language. She closed the window and looked down at the koala who now sat on her living room's floor. She grinned, before sitting on his lap. "Remember our bet?" "It was a moment of fragility…" She burst out laughing, and kissed him. "You." She kissed him again. "Are going to dress up." Another kiss. "Like a punk." One more. "And play a song to everyone." She kissed him for a longer while, pulling away when he tried to kiss back. "Now you are just teasing me." "Can you blame me? It's fun." She leaned in, and he reached out to kiss her. Both sat in that position for a while, none wanting to break the kiss. Eventually parting, they embraced each other. "No pictures, please?" "Why is that? You even had that long hair when you were younger, pictures don't lie." Ash laughed. "I was the age to do things like that." He looked down. She turned to face him. "This is what it's all about?" He nodded firmly. "Your age shouldn't stop you." He looked at her in disbelief. "It's a number. Down here, it's all the same." She dug into his jacket, and put her hand over his heart. He smiled. "Everyone's gonna laugh, Ash." "More like they'll be too shocked to say anything." She winked at him. "It's something to remind the two of us of the moment, please?" He sighed, and finally nodded. "You won't look as bad as you think, don't worry." "I hope so." He slid his hands down to her waist, and pulled her closer to him. "Have I told you you look amazing in this dress?" "You could say it again." She smirked. "Well… you do look amazing in this dress. It suits you."

"Come on Moon, you can't hide in there forever!" "Watch me. Seriously Ash, I look terrible!" "You can't look that bad!" Ash was holding back her laughter, imagining what Buster'd look like. "Just come out already!" He sighed, and finally stepped out of the box. Ash's jaw dropped. He was dressed fully in black. He wore combat boots, tight jeans and a Seal Pistols shirt, topped with a leather vest. The perfect punk. And he even had a grumpy expression on. "So?" "You look awesome!" Ash couldn't help but giggle a little, it was funny to see him like this. "I could swear you came out of a band." He smiled at her. Sure, he'd avoid as many mirrors as he could. But she liked it, and he'd do it for her. "Thanks."

A few months later, the theatre was finally rebuilt and ready to work. The whole gang - minus Mike - stood on the stairs, along with some journalists and other animals, just waiting for the great reinauguration. "All creatures great and small! Welcome to the new Moon Theatre!" Buster proclaimed, cutting the ribbon. All animals present cheered. Night fell upon them, and both the press and peasants left. The cast finally had time to go inside the place and chill. Buster showed them the new dressing rooms, the safe squid-powered stage and the new offices. He had no idea how, but Nana had retrieved most of his office's belongings. A quick inspection through the book's pages showed most of his pictures remained intact. He quickly put them back on the shelf, and went towards the door. Ash was resting against Mrs Crawly's desk, and smirked at him. "So, you ready?" "You really gonna make me do this?" He almost singsonged. She just laughed, and raised a brow. "It was our bet." She handed him the clothing articles. "And hurry, it's getting late." He shot her a bored stare as he slipped the clothes on. "I'll never bet again." "Never say never. And combat boots are worn outside of the pants' hemline, not inside. You look like a farmer." She laughed. Buster quickly put the hemline inside the boots. "I knew that." Ash raised a brow and smirked. He sighed. "Will you at least join me onstage?" "You want me to?" "Well… since I can't sing, it'd be good." He laughed lightly.

Downstairs, the cast talked as they shared a few snacks and went through the last months' events. Johnny and Meena had gotten a contract with a very famous label and Gunter found a job as a dancer in a club, whilst Rosita just went back to her normal day to day life. No one heard anything about Mike since after the performance and he hadn't shown up to the great inauguration, the cast couldn't help but wonder what had been made of the mouse. Buster chased Ash down the stairs, being as quiet as possible. "Ash, don't!" "It's gonna be fun, don't worry!" "I'm not gonna do this, I swear!" "Come on, you need a proper introduction! Your first live performance!" Ash poked him, making him step away. "Ash, when you're a good singer and someone introduces you is a thing, when you're an obviously terrible singer and someone introduces you is a totally different thing!" She lifted a brow, and shot him a smirk. "Since you're gonna do it anyway, why not have the good, non-embarrassing part?" "Everything about this is embarrassing!" He looked about to have a mental breakdown. Ash looked into his eyes. "It's not anything you haven't done before. You even played this song before!" "To my friends! They wouldn't laugh right at my face." "Ha! Tell me one animal who's out there today that'd laugh at you." He opened his mouth to reply. "Mike isn't here." He immediately went silent. "No one that's out there would laugh at you no matter how terrible the presentation is. And you don't sing that bad, I heard a couple of your practices. So chill out and remember to breathe, alright? Or else you'll be huffing in the mic." Ash laughed. Buster shot her an unamused look, and managed to put on a small smile. "Alright. Go ahead. I wait here?" "No point in showing the presenter before the presentation, am I right?" She shot him a grin. All lights in the theatre dimmed, earning weird look from the animals who chatted away in the first rows of seats. A single light focused on the center of the stage as Ash entered the place, getting everyone's attention as she stepped in front of the mic. "As a thank you for your amazing performances at our open air theatre a while back, we decided to put up a special presentation just for you guys! All of us know the guy who's presenting on this stage tonight. This is the first time he does this in a long while, so let's give him our warmest salute. I introduce to you all, Buster Moon!" The cast took a moment to react and start clapping shyly. Then Buster entered the stage, and the claps ceased, being replaced by surprised looks. Eddie's jaw dropped, and he looked up at his friend in amazement. The koala merely shrugged. "Her idea." The sheep's eyes fell upon Ash. "Thank you so much, Ash! This is priceless!" He laughed a little. Buster shot him, and then her, an annoyed look as he positioned himself in front of the microphone. "Again, this was entirely her idea." He pointed to Ash, and she merely shot him a smirk. "Well… if the clothes didn't give it out, we're gonna sing a punk song-" He was interrupted by Eddie's laughter, and chuckled. "And knock yourself out, Eddie." With that, he struck the first chords to Dream On, by Aerosquid, and was followed closely by his girlfriend. They intercalated the solos, and their voices made a beautiful harmony. Soon, the cast cheered to the beat or sang along to it. Even the squids, who got that day off, started flashing along to the beat. Once the song was done, Buster and Ash received a standing ovation, and bowed. Not long after, the cast started to scatter, everyone going back to their houses and families, until no one but a koala and a porcupine stood in the empty theatre, getting ready to go home. Together. "Yeah, I gotta admit. It was fun." "It's the best feeling, especially the clapping afterwards." Ash said, shooting him a smirk. "You said so yourself." Buster rolled his eyes, a smile of his own forming. "Yeah, I guess I did." They leaned in, and briefly kissed. "Thank you." "For what?" "Giving me this. I forgot how fun it was. It doesn't matter if you don't have a great voice as long as you're having fun." Ash shrugged. "Meena said she liked it." "Like she'd say anything but that." Both shared a quick laugh, as they went to leave the stage. The porcupine stopped in her tracks, and looked at the stage. The same stage it had all started. The stage she had been selected at, the stage that caused turmoil in her previous relationship. She froze for a moment, remembering the day she walked into her apartment and saw her boyfriend with someone else. The song they sang. She got an idea, and tugged on Buster's jacket. He turned. "What is it?" "Let's play something else?" He gave her a confused look. "Just for the sake of it. We're alone here." "Well… alright." He smiled. "Got a song in mind?" "Yeah, I do." She walked to the mic. "We'll keep it off. Let's just sing for ourselves." "Whatever you say, rockstar." He winked. "Do I know the song?" Ash didn't reply; she just started singing, and soon Buster joined her in the choir. "And I want love to-" "Change my friends to enemies." "Change my friends to enemies-" "And show me how it's all my fault." And with that, they locked lips.

[trainingbrahs-blog]

Patched In: The Artistic Brah

The Bro Series honours a variety of bros and gives us the opportunity to get to know some of our favourite little buddies a bit better. Knowledge is power sisters and brothers!  Our fifth interview in the Bro Series is with Zoe, the stand-up-bro-turned-jits-bro, also known as the Artistic Brah.

We should probably mention that apart from being a tough blue belt that loves judo, Zoe makes amazing jiu jitsu inspired art, which we obviously asked her exactly zero questions about because we were too busy talking about gross things and Gucci Mane.  You can see Zoe’s excellent art here and here.

Vicky - Ok.  Why do you think ringworm is called ringworm?  It’s not a worm.  So why make it any grosser than athlete’s foot?

Zoe  - You know what?  I’ve thought a lot about this for the last ten days.  I’ve read every single… My first 2 pages of google, all the titles are purple because I’ve clicked on them and I really think they should change the name.  I think the history is that they used to think it was a worm because it makes that circle.  Do worms even make a circle?

V - There’s the snake that eats its tail, but that’s symbolic.

Z - So yeah, my symbolic worm disease. I honestly think if it had a different name, people would be chill about it.  I would be chill about it.

V - Right?  Athlete’s foot.  Or athlete’s circle?

Mike - That sounds like a store.

Darcie - I would shop there.

V - It’s something that happens to someone who’s fit and active.

Z - I dunno make it sound like at least not terrible.  Can you please not?  Can this please not happen to me right now?  Everything is terrible.  Why am I having ringworm too?

V - How much hair do you think you’ve lost in jiu jitsu?

Z - Not enough.  My hair’s still really puffy and big.

V - Do you lose it from the back, the front, or the side?

Z - I think it gets torn out from deep within the clump.  My hair has no back front or side.  Especially once I’ve been rolling for a bit. It’s very sweet when guys crossface me then go “oh oh oh your hair!”  But you’re already crossfacing me.  Why are you concerned about my hair?

D - That’s why I just got an undercut.  It solved all of my problems.

V - Don’t you think it’s weird when they sort of gently brush it out of the way?  They lift your head up then smooth your hair.

M - I do that to guys with long hair too.  It’s like come on, man.

V - But sometimes it’s oddly intimate, like you’re being cradled?

M - From now on, never again.  Oddly intimate with other men?  No.

V - It touches me!

M - Does it touch them too?  I’m not staring at your tender hair.

D -- Everyone should just get an undercut.

V - Yeah, we’ll talk to you again when you’re growing that thing out.

D - How do you feel about competition?

Z -  I enjoy it when I grab their lapels, but everything up to that point including the two weeks prior pretending that I’m not doing it is just very uncomfortable.  I never regret it, even if I lose miserably.  I do enjoy the excitement, even if I’m losing tremendously.  I like to be in it, I just don’t like to get there.  My mind is my problem.  I like it and I’m going to challenge myself and do no gi for my next competition.

M - ooh.

D - Does Mike know about the challenge?

M - What challenge?

Z - haha yes.  Chad told me that I should challenge Mike to no gi because I could probably take him..

M - Probably.  Challenge accepted.

D - We should market this

V - Like a superfight?

D - Yeah.  But you should get some sort of… you know.  Mike has weight and more years of jiu jitsu.

V - So like a handicap.

D - I didn’t want to use the word handicap, but yes.

M - A seven point lead?  Is that what you want?

D - I dunno a hammer or something.

V - Or like Zoe gets to do slap jiu jitsu and Mike doesn’t

M - If it’s a gun, I’m ok.  I just did firearm self defence this week.  I’ll take you on with a gun.

D - So we’ve written a lot of posts on cutting weight and not cutting weight because it’s for suckers, but tell us about the last time you made weight.

Z - Alright.  I was cocky.  Because the previous competition I was underweight because the scale at our gym was six pounds over.

D - Still is.

V - Is it really?

D - It’s over by quite a bit.

V - Thank god.

Z - So I was super cocky and was like, “I’m not gonna be careful at all.  I’m just gonna have a hamburger and onion rings the night before and I’m gonna drink coffee in the morning with four bananas.” Then I was in the car with Shannon and I was getting this feeling of “Ahh I gotta compete.”  I dunno I have a feeling.  The go to to calm my nerves is to vomit.  It works like a charm.  It relaxes me.  Honestly I’ve been vomiting to relax myself since I was like 4.  Whenever too much stress was happening I’d vomit.  Almost without warning, especially on playgrounds and stuff.  Someone would upset me or something and that was my go to.  So  I know this about myself.  So I knew.  I was like, “Shannon, I don’t know if you have to pull over when we’re driving but I’m gonna have to throw up soon.”  She was like, “no problem.” Anyway we found parking and I knew it.  Shannon had walked off to put money in the meter and I knew it.  I felt it.  But the vomit doesn’t just come out.  I have to like force it out.  It’s just that sick feeling in my stomach so it’s just like “blech.”  It’s really, really hoarse and forced but I have to expel something.

M - Oh my god, your face.

Z - I only had like 4 bananas and two cups of coffee.

V - That’s a lot of bananas.

Z - So I was in the parking lot and I was kind of embarrassed because there were a bunch of construction guys having lunch so I was trying to hide, retching behind a tree at BCIT and my stomach wasn’t full enough so it was just like that gooey stomach acid bile. But, I managed to throw up my coffee.  Then Shannon told me I didn’t look so great, but I was good to go.  So then I’m waiting for my fight and I thought “oh I might as well weigh myself” and then I step on the scale and I was just so confident.  Like you know, I’ve done this before.  TWICE already.  So I got on the scale and then I looked at the guy’s face and he was like, “ohhhhh you’re at the limit” and I was 141.5.  I was at the cut off.  And I was like “oh no, thank god I threw up in the parking lot, otherwise I would’ve missed weight!” So I scraped by and I learned a hard lesson that I shouldn’t eat junk food 12 hours before I fight.  And to keep my retching vomit to a minimum.

V - Zoe, I will never forget you at the in-house competition.

Z - What the one I did after two weeks?

D - Yeah, that’s why we decided we were going to adopt you.  Well that and because you came out dancing after.

V - Yeah, you showed up for two weeks, we barely even knew who you were and you had the most laser focused insane maniac look on your face and you just destroyed everybody.  It was terrifying.  And kind of amazing.

Z - Well thank you, also I really don’t remember it.  I remember Rodrigo had said “Zoe, it’s ok.  Two weeks.  Whatever just do it.” and I said “well you know what, ok.”  My mindset like that works for me sometimes, when I’m almost naive to what is actually happening or if I don’t really understand the situation, I just usually say yes and I usually have a really good experience from it.  I remember when I woke up that morning, it was about 10:30 and I said “oh yeah, I’m about to do this competition at 11:30” and I didn’t even know what that meant.  So the sense of relaxation and chill that I had was the best that I ever felt in terms of thinking about going to compete.  I didn’t know what I was doing and now when I watch white belts I’m like, “Is that what I was doing?”

V - Yeah, you had no chill.  It was amazing though.  Really.  You just came out of nowhere and just destroyed.  So you’ve been working at the gym for a while now.  What’s the grossest thing that you’ve found there?

Z -  Well today I found a bandaid on the wall.

V - That’s nothing.

Z - I know that’s nothing.  Mike handed me a bag of vomit once.  I said, “I’m not touching that without gloves” and he’s like, “Oh that’s a good idea.”

M - It really stunk too.  It’s like thick foamy.  A guy was like, “My daughter threw up.” It was me and Zoe only.  We were way overwhelmed with kids and one kid barfed.  It was just a little girl. She was 3 or 4, but the amount of throw up that came out of her was like the size of her.  I was looking at her and looking at it… and looking at her.  It didn’t match up.  That’s an adult barf.  So I brought the garbage can and I was like, “How are we gonna navigate this?” So I swept it all up and it was all over the edge of the bag and my hands and Zoe was just like, “No fucking way.  GLOVES.”

Z - Mike, you know that’s a biohazard.  You need to not pick vomit up with your hands.  That’s the one that comes to mind but honest to god, I’m disgusted by people everyday.  

V - If you had to tattoo something on your face what would it be?

Z - uhhh my… That’s a good question

V - Is it?

Z - I would have to research more.  Actually it would probably be something… I was going to say decorative.  I dunno I couldn’t go full ice cream cone.

M - Gucci Mane?  It’s Gucci that has that right?

V - That’s a thing?  He has an ice cream?

M - It’s the whole side of his head.

V - Shut up.

D - I’m so glad we get to put a picture of Gucci Mane on the blog.

V - I don’t understand.  Are these spikes coming out of the ice cream cone as well?  Seriously.  Can somebody look up why?  There’s gotta be some meaning behind that.

Z - It’s because he always says ice cold.

V - Ok but you could do like an ice cube.

Z - Ice Cube is taken.

M - He’s the ice cream man.  It’s because he chooses to live his life cool as ice.

V - That’s stupid.  It’s an ice cream cone on his face.

D - Ok let’s go straight to Interview Sharktank.  It’s one minute.  I think Brancao still holds the title.  He answered like 35 questions or something ridiculous.

V - I still think we stopped timing him.

D - We’ll have to look it up.  Anyway, we’re not going to ask you what your walkout song is because we already know from Manuel’s birthday party.

V - for the record it is…

Z - Oh for the record, it’s Kate Bush, Running Up That Hill

D - So if you were practicing for sharktank, we’re not going to ask that.

V - Practice?  That’s how Brancao beat everybody.  And go…

D - Favorite sub?

Z - What?... Favorite?  I was gonna say turkey!  

M - Go!  Next question!

D - Favorite Subway sub!

Z - I said!  It’s turkey!

D - What’s Chad’s walk out song

Z - Oh no.  A Handsome Man?

D - Gi or no gi?

Z - No gi

V - REALLY.

D - Best thing about jiu jitsu?

Z - Everything

D - Worst thing about jiu jitsu?

Z - Everything!

D - Broken nose or broken toe?

Z - Both.

D - Name a country that starts with A.

Z - America

D - Staph or ringworm?

Z - Ringworm

D - Cher or Dolly Parton?

Z - Cher

D - Best take down.

Z - Osoto gari

D - Give us your favorite Louis quote

Z - Oh my god.

V - done!

D - Oh I wanted to hear it.

V - Does Louis have quotes?

D - “You can’t arm drag me!  I’m already sitting down!”

M - “You should’ve cut that big toenail, that’s gross” [for the full story, see Patched in- the Original bro]

11 questions.  Aaaaaaaaaaaand stilllllllll Brancao remains the Interview Sharktank champion.  Thanks for sitting down with us, Zoe.