#high ponytail Sunday my beloved

[night-rhea]

All I all know can think off is this,

Hufflepuff Kai, wand pointing at someone: Fight me!

Gryffindor Cordell, standing behind Kai: Fight him and ill make you regret it

Enjoy this clownery of Sunday

These would be my lowest quality drawings ever but pls forgive me im s t i l l in car..

High ponytail Cordell my beloved. He is gonna protec his boyfy.

[snowbellewells]

Self-Promo Sunday: Keep You Closer (Can’t Let Go)

Most of the time, I try to pretend 6x10 and 6x11 didn’t even happen in OuaT. It was like they almost gave me everything I had wanted: them returning to the EF, Henry getting to be a knight, Emma experiencing being a princess and having been raised by her parents -- but then turned it all horribly on its head so that I couldn’t enjoy any of it.  Needless to say, right after the episode (before I learned to just try not to think about that little plot side trip too much) I had to write fix-it/missing moment fic to soothe my pain. That - and a well-timed first listen of a country song - brought about this little fic.

This is a post 6x11 one shot, picking up almost from the very end of that episode, minus the sidetrack to August's typing shed. I just needed them to have a moment of private reunion…

(The lyrics at the beginning and end are from Florida Georgia Line's song "H.O.L.Y." and that’s the one which actually gave me the idea for this story with its little line about "…healing hands where it used to hurt…")

{Also available on AO3 and on ff.net}

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

“Keep You Closer Can’t Let Go” 

by: @snowbellewells​

"I couldn't find a day, I didn't feel alone

I never meant to cry, started losin' hope

But somehow baby,

You broke through and saved me

You're an angel, tell me you're never leavin'

'Cause you're the first thing I've found I can believe in…"

After the commotion on the street subsides, the hooded figure from her vision has disappeared (Gold and Belle's son, as it turns out, because – of course it is, why not?!) and her pulse stops hammering in her ears, Emma Swan finds that she is still genuinely hard pressed to loosen her grip on either her son or her pirate. She finds that she has to a bit though, as Henry is starting to squirm and complain good naturedly that he's glad to see her too, but he still needs to breathe. Her father jostles in, needing to hold his daughter for a moment as well and reassure himself of her return, and in short, they can’t make it home for the night clasped in an awkward four-way hug as they are.

Of course, once that initial embrace of adrenaline-fueled relief and joy is broken, there is much to do – as there always is. They have to figure out where Gideon might have vanished and if there's an immediate danger from him, if they should track Gold down and try to force answers from him, and they also need to acclimate this new and different version of Robin to what must seem to him a strangely cockeyed modern world. When everyone has been introduced to him though, Emma is willing to leave that to a still flushed, rather wide-eyed Regina. For a moment – and she tugs on Killian's hand, shooting him a look he returns knowingly, giving her the sense he gets exactly what she is thinking with his affectionate smile – she wants to tease their mayor about 'yearning looks and doe-y eyes', but she holds back. The former Queen has not had her actual True Love himself returned to her, but rather some sort of alternate copy, and that is going to be more than enough for the other woman to shoulder. While Regina may be due some good natured ribbing in return for past snark, Emma can't find it in her heart to dish it out just now.

She wants to speak to August as well, but that will keep for tomorrow; now she wants nothing more than to go home and hold her family close. They all troop back to the house by the water, stumbling exhausted up their front steps. David at last reluctantly parts ways with them to relieve Granny of babysitting duty and check on her younger brother. Emma promises they will come for a late lunch the next day and seriously discuss what they're going to do to right her parents' curse once and for all. It is long overdue for their focus, and she sees it in her father's weariness and heavy heart.

She relishes another tight hug from him with his hand cradling the back of her head. It lends more comfort than she would readily admit after just being in a realm where he was gone and she could never have such an embrace again. Her heart warms with gratitude once more to know that alternate world wasn't real, wasn't permanent, as she watches her dad head off down the street to his and her mom's loft apartment.

Wearily, after stepping into the house with her True Loves, she shucks her leather jacket in the entryway, offering a faint smile of thanks to Henry as he wordlessly takes it from her to hang on the hooks by the door. When he comes back and hugs her tightly, clinging for a few moments in a way he hasn't for quite some time, tears start in her eyes for her brave, goodhearted boy swiftly becoming a man before her eyes. She holds onto him just as tight, swaying back and forth and murmuring soothing words under her breath. She's just thinking that he will love to hear about his Wish Realm self – a newly minted knight and prince of the kingdom riding out on quests wherever he is needed – when, with a sheepish grin and a surreptitious snuffle, Henry seems to want a bit of space to recover himself. "I'm gonna go call Violet and let her know you're back. She was worried about you too," Henry says. And then he's gone – clumping up the stairs all big feet and overlong, lanky limbs; the thumps from the floor overhead still sounding until they hear the muffled thud of his bedroom door close.

Shaking his head as if pleasantly amused by the lad's exuberance and changeable teenage moods, Killian is swift to take her hand and lead her forward into the living room. He doesn't have to do much urging to get her worn, dazed self to settle in the corner of the couch where she usually snuggles up, but she does shoot forward again and start to protest when he kneels before her and starts to remove her boots. "Killian, stop! You don't have to – "

But he gives her a terse shake of the head, searching her eyes with his encompassing gaze as he catches her hands reaching forward to halt him and brings them to his lips, pressing kisses to her knuckles. "Let me, Swan…Emma…please. I didn't know where you were…what was happening to you… Just let me do this?"

Sighing, she deflates, allowing him his way in whatever offers him a modicum of comfort and normalcy. In truth, she is so glad to be with him again, here together in their home, that in itself is enough to relax her nearly into slumber.

She closes her eyes for a moment, resting her head against the back of the couch, and savoring the feel of his strong hands caressing her aching feet as he bares them, wishing they could always be this close – that the world outside would finally leave them alone for even a few hours at once. Reaching her hand out sleepily, she runs her fingers through his dark hair, urging him up close enough to kiss fully and then mumbling against his lips, "Come here Pirate. I need to feel you next to me."

As requested, Killian is beside her in an instant, but before he can wrap her up in his arms and lull her sufficiently into a much-needed sleep, Emma stills him, reaching out herself to trace his beloved features, once more looking as she has come to know them. She smooths a shock of his coarse fringe back off his forehead, lovingly stroking the strands for a moment as if they are great treasure.

Her fingers move on to dance over his temple and the bridge of his nose, and for a moment her pirate's brow quirks in puzzlement, wondering what she is doing, but not willing to speak or break this quiet spell between them. As her fingertips trace the old healed cut high on one cheekbone and then the outline of his full, strong mouth, his eyes slip closed; relaxing under her ministrations much as she had done with his minutes before, surrendering himself to her need to touch, to assure herself that he is right within her reach.

Emma can't quit touching him. She needs the warm, soft feel of his skin beneath her hands as assurance that she won't blink and find him taken from her again. It's only when her small, deft hands slip inside his half unbuttoned shirt, and Killian feels her caressing each mark and brand, outlining each muscle and sinew, that he senses something else has happened beyond their painful separation, something that she is now trying to convince herself is over – or wasn't real at all – through feeling as well as sight, by cataloguing every dip and curve of him, to make sure he is as he should be.

Still, Killian makes no move to stop her, to ask questions, until Emma undoes the last of the shirt's fastenings, pulls it from his arms and off his torso with breathless help from him, and then presses herself against his bared skin, ear to his pounding heart, face buried in his scarred chest, and he feels a little shudder go through her, the one small outward sign of what he is more and more certain must be some dreadfulness she is hiding.

"What is it, Emma?" he whispers, hand coming up to smooth over her golden fall of hair, now loosed from its near-constant ponytail for the night and hook resting at her hip lightly.

From where she has curled herself nearly into his lap, his princess murmurs against his collarbone, "I don't want to let you go. Just stay here a little longer. Please, Killian?"

The soft, reverent pads of her fingers trace over his skin, scratching through the dark hair across his chest and stomach and around to his shoulders and back, along various marks of floggings, a survived stabbing, burns and the other traces of an abnormally long life full of violence and pain. Yet, as she does so, as those gentle fingers touch the places he still struggles to lay bare, even for her eyes alone, a soothing balm, an air of healing rolls over the scored and mottled skin – reaching both and easing their frayed sanity in each other's presence.

"I'm right here, Love," he manages hoarsely, lips in the soft hair at the crown of her head. "As long as you wish…There's nowhere else I would want to be."

"Good," she husks, the smallest of more normal smiles quirking the corners of her mouth up as she finally stops seeking every inch of him feverishly and wraps her arms around his torso, clearly preparing to settle in for the night.

There is a peaceful stillness between them for several moments before she offers, not looking at him, but still speaking into his skin, disinclined to pull away from her pirate, even for moment. "There was another you…in that realm. And he was…"

She pauses, obviously searching for words, and though Killian is now achingly curious, wondering if that is what has brought on her desperate need to be so close, to examine each detail of him now, he senses a bit of lightness is in order. "And was I still my devilishly handsome self?" he teases.

Her brow arches sardonically at him and she hums in her throat. "In a manner of speaking," she settles on finally. Then her face sobers, and his chest squeezes at the bereft looks that crosses it once again, "but that's just it…you weren't you. And seeing you there before me – but not – made me miss you even more. I needed you – the real you – so much it hurt." Her hand inches between their bodies to press against her own heart as if holding in the still physical pain.

He takes that hand in his gently and clasps it to his chest. "I am here now, Lass. Trust me, I won't leave you."

"But how long before we're torn apart by something we can't control? Before we lose each other again?" she beseeches plaintively, her voice small and broken, the fear plain in her green eyes.

"It doesn't matter," he says firmly, holding her gaze and blatantly offering the same comfort she gives him with her love and her trust. "Wherever we are sent, whoever tries to separate us, you will always find me. I have faith in that. And, Emma, I will always always find you."

When they both drift off to sleep some minutes later, tangled together in a tight embrace that the worst villain couldn't have unraveled with the most powerful curse, she has chosen to believe it as much as he. That vow, that security, has enveloped and healed them both.

"You're the healing hands where it used to hurt,

You're my saving grace, you're my kinda church…

'Cause you're the first thing I know I can believe in…"

Tagging: @kmomof4​ @jennjenn615​ @searchingwardrobes​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ @thislassishooked​ @let-it-raines​ @spartanguard​ @tiganasummertree​ @therooksshiningknight​ @thisonesatellite​ @shireness-says​ @mayquita​ @gingerchangeling​ @blackwidownat2814​ @lfh1226-linda​ @resident-of-storybrooke​ @darkcolinodonorgasm​ @hollyethecurious​ @teamhook​ @revanmeetra87​ 

[alwaysahiccupandastrid]

Social Media AU - Social Killing (Part 24)

We’ll be taking a little closer look at the show itself next time...and we’ll see just how Richie’s performance is recieved by the fans 👀

I know the writing for the interview is small, so I’ve put the transcript below just in case anyone needs it!

Also, yes, I am in fact a giant moron who wrote that Social Killing was a weekend-show, and have only now realized that in the interview, it says “Wednesday night” because I wrote it like a month back and forgot I put that. Please pretend that the publication in charge of the interview got the wrong day, and that it is in fact Sunday nights!

----------

Our correspondent, Vincent Lewis, sat down with the main cast of the upcoming Hulu drama “Social Killing” this afternoon to learn more about the show, as well as what drew the cast to the project and what it was like to work together.

Vince: Hello, it’s wonderful to meet you all.

Riley Andersen: Aww, it’s nice to meet you too!

Vince: I can imagine it’s been a long day of press and interviews for you all.

Richie Tozier: Too long.

Jay B: It’s been insane to be honest. It’s unlike anything any of us have ever seen, I think.

Evan Harrison: Yeah, but it’s been fun too, in a weird way.

Vince: I’ll get right to it then. First of all, congratulations to all of you on the show, it’s been receiving rave reviews all around, and it looks like it’s set to be a hit.

Jay: Thanks.

Vince: So, can you tell us a little bit about the characters you four play? No spoilers necessary, just the basic so we know who’s who!

(All four look at each other and laugh)

Richie: I mean…

Evan: Ladies first!

Riley: (laughing) Geez, you guys are mean! Okay, so I play Hailey and she’s a cheerleader at Blackwood High, where the series is set, and she’s...complicated. She isn’t the stereotypical mean cheerleader you usually see in television shows, but she’s definitely not above doing what it takes for her to stay on top.

Vince: Interesting! Gentlemen…?

Evan: Okay, so I play Blake, who’s this kind of preppy, snobbish guy who went to boarding school but has transferred to Blackwood for unknown reasons. He knows pretty much all the town’s secrets since he comes from a rich family and so he kind of has his links everywhere in town.

Jay: I play Sean, who’s this beloved teacher at the school - all the students love him since he’s not stuffy or uptight. He’s kinda the cool English teacher who’s probably smoked a spliff with all his students at some point. But he has a double life that no one knows about, and he wants it to stay that way because he’s seeking justice for something that’s happened to him in the past few years.

Richie:...Oh shit, me. I play a guy called Ted, and he’s brand new to town because he’s looking for a new start after something super tragic happened in his past. So he takes the drama teacher position that just opened up, and he starts to realize that something is kind of off about the town - which, you know, is kinda understatement of the fucking century!

Vince: So everyone’s got a secret then…

Riley: Basically none of us can be trusted, that’s what you should know.

Vince: Now obviously, Jay, you’ve been working pretty consistently in the business since you were young - you would do Canadian kids DIY shows and Québécois dubbing, is that correct?

Jay: Yeah. God, how fucking lame is that?

Vince: No, no, I used to love watching those Canadian kids shows! But since becoming an adult, you’ve done all sorts - comedy, obviously, drama, horror, animation...so what led you to “Social Killing”?

Jay: Well, I mean, my agent sent me a script and I was like ‘holy shit this could be good’; then I saw that Richie fucking Tozier was getting involved and I was like ‘okay, drop everything, I have GOT to do this damn show now’.

Vince: Did you two know each other before doing the show?

Richie: I mean, kinda. He came backstage at some of my shows a few times, and I was like ‘this guy is fucking awesome’. He’s Canadian, so that’s why.

Jay: I’m a very proud Canadian, yeah. Sorry, America, but Canada is the greatest country in the world.

Riley: America sucks right now, so don’t apologize.

Jay: But yeah, I’ve always wanted the chance to work with Richie on something since he’s one of my favourite comedians, so this was a huge opportunity for me.

Richie: And then he actually met me properly and regretted that shit.

(All of them crack up laughing)

Vince: As I understand it, Riley, you’re not entirely new to the world of show business either, because before joining the show you were a dancer.

Richie: Wait, what??

Riley: Yeah, I was. I was a professional dancer.

Jay: Jesus Christ.

Richie: A fucking PROFESSIONAL dancer?!

Riley: Oh come on, you guys knew I was a dancer!

Richie: Not professionally! I thought you just did it for a hobby, not as an actual job!

Riley: Anyway...I danced back-up for a few people, did some background dance work on movies and shows, but this is my first time acting.

Evan: And she’s incredible at it. It’s amazing.

Vince: As I understand it, Evan, you’re also brand new?

Evan: Well, this is my first big role. I did some theatre for a few years, played some gigs at bars to get by, but this is what I really want to be doing. I was so excited when I got cast that I nearly started crying - it’s a dream come true.

Riley: Aww.

Vince: Finally, Richie… You’re a fantastic stand-up comedian, I love your work, but this is your first time acting in anything. What made you want to transition from stand up to television, especially now?

Richie: Woah, yeah, I mean...yeah. (laughs) Honestly, I wanted to do something new. A lot of stuff has changed in the last few years, mostly the content of my stand-up, and I want to distance myself from that old shit as much as possible. And, you know, I’m married now, we’re expecting our first kid soon, so it’s all super serious and shit.

Vince: Congratulations!

Richie: Yeah, thanks! So with the show, I wanted to just...show that I could do it, I guess. Show I was more than just some shitty comedian doing misogynistic jokes that weren’t true. The writers approached me originally since they wanted some humor in the show, but...I guess they liked the other stuff I did once I was on-set.

Riley: Just for the record, I like your new stuff better.

Jay: Oh yeah, for real.

Evan: I still remember seeing the comeback show, first time you did your own material, and I was so blown away. Not just the actual material, but the way you performed and talked about your friends on-stage...it was amazing.

Richie: Thanks, man.

Vince: So, what was it like for the four of you to work together? Were there any scenes where all four of you were present?

Jay: Oh, man…

Evan: (mock dying) Spoilers. Can’t. Give. Them. Away.

Richie: Yeah, you can't see it, but in the building across the road there’s a Hulu representative with a sniper ready to take us out if they think we’ll fuck up.

Vince: Alright, alright, I get it! But what was it like working together? Fun?

Riley: Oh yeah. Definitely. These three guys are super funny and great to work with, you know? Evan would sing songs on set between takes, and we’d all have little impromptu karaoke sessions. Jay is just...really sweet but funny, he keeps quiet sometimes but he genuinely is really fun to be around; he goes nuts about hockey. Richie kept us all laughing, of course, even when we had to shoot more challenging scenes - without giving too much about the show away, there were times where we would be filming, and we’d all be feeling down or tired, and it was really hard. But Richie would keep our spirits up by making jokes, and making sure we were all hanging in there.

Evan: Yeah, Richie’s the best.

Riley: He’s a talented actor too, which is nice to work with.

Jay: Aww jeez, Riley…

Richie: You’re making us sound awesome, and we look like assholes just sitting here nodding.

Evan: To be honest, I worked more with Riley than anyone else and she really undersells herself.

Richie: Yeah. She’s actually super funny - I mean, she’s great on the show but she pulls off comedy pretty well too. I think she’d do pretty well on a comedy show or something. You know, if the show doesn’t work out. (Winks)

Riley: Coming from Trashmouth Tozier, that’s like...the most wonderful thing someone has ever said to me. Oh my god.

Vince: Well, I was going to ask what it was like, being surrounded by all male leads - obviously there are females too, but you four are the focus, and you’re the only woman.

Riley: (laughing) Shh, I don’t think- I don’t think they’ve realized I’m not a guy yet! Don’t tell them!

Jay: Nah, she’s one of the guys clearly!

Richie: Wait, you’re a WOMAN? My life has been a lie, Riley Andersen!

Riley: The blonde ponytail and cheerleading skirt didn’t give it away then.

Richie: It’s 2018, anything can happen. I’d wear a cheerleading skirt. I’m sure my husband would be up for that.

Evan: I am very jealous that Riley got to wear the skirt and I didn’t. It would have made my ass look fantastic.

Jay: I’m not sure if my fiancée would be amused or terrified by me in a cheerleading outfit. I’m like 110lbs soaking wet, so fuck knows what I’d look like.

Riley: (throwing her arms around him) Jay, no, you’d look great! Be more confident in yourself!

Richie: (in a Canadian accent) It’s his Canadian modesty, eh?

Jay: (laughing) Fuck off.

Richie: (still-Canadian-accent) Still mad you left your tuque in the washroom, eh?

Evan: Oh god.

Vince: On that note...thank you so much for meeting with me. Good luck with the show!

“Social Killing” starts 9pm on Wednesday night on Hulu.

[thehomeforthehopelessromantics]

It’s Always Been Me and You: Part 2

Monday...

(C/N) POV

He saw you in the halls at school. You were at your locker, grabbing your stuff for your lit class. You had your hair up in a ponytail and were wearing a red, white and black striped sweater with a pair of overalls on top.

Cautiously, he approached you. He had no idea how you would respond to him and the anxiety of it was enough to shake him to the core.

“H-Hey.”

You continued grabbing and putting stuff away like you hadn’t even heard him.

“Love?”

You slammed your locker shut, grabbed your bag and left without saying a word or even sparing him a glance. He watched your figure as you got further and further from him, coming to a terrible realization.

You were giving him the silent treatment.

***

Thursday...

(C/N) POV

“You have reached the voicemail of...” Groaning, he ended the call and slammed the phone down on his bed next to him. This was his 10th time calling you today and every time you sent him to voicemail.

Refusing to give up, he opened up messages and shot you a text.

‘Love, I know you’re still mad at me, but it’s almost Friday. Are we still gonna be together this weekend?’

‘Please answer me..’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘I miss you.’

***

Saturday...

(C/N) POV

(C/N) lied in bed all day, staring at a picture of the two of you on his phone. It was a picture of the two of you on his 18th birthday a few months ago. You had smeared frosting onto his cheek and were licking it off of him. It was by far the funniest picture the two of you had together, but right now it was just making him sad since he didn’t know if he would have that with you again. Tears welled up in his eyes the longer he stared and before long he found himself full on sobbing.

His mother came into his room, sensing that something was very wrong. She knew that you didn’t come over last weekend and that he was still at home this weekend.

Upon entering she found her beloved baby boy, face down in a pile of pillows, clutching them desperately as the sobs overtook his body.

Without a second thought, she came and brought him to her chest, rocking him slightly, while his hands cling to the fabric of her dress. Hot tears stained the front of her dress, but she couldn’t‘ve even cared less at that moment. Her son was hurting and needed her.

“I... I screwed up so... so bad, mom.” He mumbled between sobs. He wanted to stop crying, he wanted to pull himself together but he just couldn’t. His best friend in the whole world wouldn’t speak to him and it was beginning to feel like he was dying without you.

***

Sunday...

He tried calling you 20 times. He never got a response.

***

Monday...

You wouldn’t even let him get close to you at school.

***

Saturday...

(C/N) POV

You two had fought before. Yelled nasty thing at each other for hours. You’d both been vicious and cruel and yet still managed to work it out. This time it seemed like working it out was out of the picture. For two straight weeks, (C/N) had tried to talk to you. Call, text, at school-- nothing. You wouldn’t even look at him anymore.

Today, he decided that enough was enough and that you were gonna talk to him whether you liked it or not. He couldn’t keep going like this. You were his best friend and right now it was feeling like he lost you and it was killing him. He tried being around Lilith a bit more, hoping that it would help, but ultimately it made him feel worse. 

And it wasn’t because Lilith wasn’t fun or interesting-- she was. She was that and so much more. She was a gymnast and student body president at her school. She volunteered at an animal shelter and was kind and sure of herself.

She was all that (C/N) could’ve asked for in a girl and yet the only thing (C/N) could think was that she wasn’t you. 

He needed to fix things with you as soon as humanly possible. 

Working up the nerve, he finally got out of his car that he’d been sitting in for 15 minutes now. He walked up to your door and knocked. 

As the door opened the apology started falling off his lips, “(Y/N), I’m so sorry for-” He quickly realized it wasn’t you at the door, but your older brother, Ace. 

“Hey, don’t stop on my account. I’m sure (Y/N) can hear you from wherever she is right about now.” 

“Ace?”

“Surprised?” he said, breaking out into a boyish grin. “Her birthday is coming up and I have a break from classes so I figured I’d come to surprise her. She has no clue I’m here yet. Did you really think I was gonna miss it?” 

“N-No, I just wasn’t expecting you to open the door.” (C/N)’s cheeks turned red with embarrassment. “Where is she?”  “She went somewhere with our parents. They made sure she was out of the house so I could come.” Ace said calmly as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Now why exactly are you showing up at the front door, apologizing profusely? You and the little monster get into a fight?” 

(C/N) nodded his head slowly, looking down at his feet. “I messed up really bad, Ace. I have no idea how I’m gonna fix it.” 

Ace paused for a moment before gesturing for (C/N) to come in. “I’ll tell mom and dad to keep her out longer.”

They sat down in the dining room and (C/N) began to explain exactly what had happened between them. By the time he was done explaining, Ace had clenched his jaw.

“She has every right to be pissed at you,” Ace scowled. “That was a real a-hole thing to say.”  “I know it was. I just..” (C/N) sighed and ran his hand over his face. “It was in the heat of the moment, I didn’t mean it. Now, I can’t even get her to be around me long enough to tell her I’m sorry.”  

“Do you know why you still want to be friends with her?” Ace asked, knowing that he should be flipping the table and kicking (C/N) out because he hurt your feelings in a way that no one else could. But he didn’t, mainly because you weren’t the only one he watched grow up. It was you and (C/N), and Ace saw how happy being (C/N)’s friend made you. He also knew that the boy sitting next to him was deliriously in love with his best friend and that she was just as crazy about him. 

“Of course I do,” he said exasperatedly, letting his fingers absentmindedly fiddle with the friendship ring you’d given him two years ago. “She’s honest and loyal and one of the funniest people I’ve ever met. She doesn’t ever judge me and she always has my back.” A small smile appeared on his face as he spoke. “She’s the only person I can stay up all night talking to and still miss her the second we stop. I’ve never met someone that I just clicked with like that. I can’t remember what my life was like before her and I don’t wanna know what it’d be like without her by my side anymore. She’s my person.” 

5 years worth of memories flooded through (C/N)’s head, but he kept coming back to one specific night about a year ago.

The two of you were at his house and it was around 2 in the morning. You were cuddled on his bed-- him lying on the headboard and you on his chest, watching Shrek 2 with two empty tubs of ice cream next to you. Your eyes were trained on the movie, which made sense seeing as it was one of your favorites. His eyes on the other hand just wouldn’t leave you. His hands kept trailing up and down your arm, drawing light patterns on your skin with his fingertips. He could’ve stayed right there in that moment forever and he was sure he would’ve if you hadn’t jumped up and started singing along with the fairy godmother’s rendition of “I Need A Hero.” He watched you dance around his room in one of his shirts and he felt totally at peace. He loved when you wore his clothes. They were always far too big on you, but you didn’t care-- claiming you like the fact that it smelled like him— it made you feel safe and at home. You plopped down on the bed next to him when the song finished. With a huge, breathless smile on your face, you brought yourself up between his knees, your arms draped around his neck.   

In the most adorable voice he’s ever heard in his life you whispered, “Be my hero?” 

That was by far his favorite memory of you. It was also the first time he’d wished that he had the guts to kiss you. 

“What do I do, Ace?” 

“I honestly don’t know this time, kiddo,” Ace admitted. He usually knew what to do to help mend things between you two, but not this time. This wasn’t a ‘he ate my ice cream’ or a ‘she keeps stealing my clothes’ situation. This was about what he said, about this girl he’s been seeing and the unspoken feelings between you two. 

“Do you think she’ll forgive me?”

“I think she needs you almost as much as you need her.”

***

On (Y/N)’s birthday... 

(Y/N) POV

Your fingers hovered over the send button for a least five minutes before you just closed your phone entirely. You’d retyped the message a thousand times now.

‘Can we talk?’

‘Do you wanna come over?’

‘I miss you.’

‘I wish you were here.’

This was infuriating. You were still mad at him but today was your birthday and every other important person in your life was downstairs while (C/N) wasn’t.

You hadn’t heard from him all day and you honestly were missing him terribly over these past few weeks. You wanted him to at least be here, even if the two of you didn’t speak.

Deciding that you’d spent enough time pondering about if he was gonna show up tonight or if you should just call him, you stood and looked yourself over in the mirror.

You had on a quarter sleeve cold shoulder black mesh top, that was opaque over the breast but sheer everywhere else. Paired with a skater skirt and a pair of knee-high boots, you looked stunning and ready to take on the world. Turning on your heel, you opened your door and waltzed downstairs to see your family waiting for you.

You were gonna be okay regardless of whether or not (C/N) showed up.... Right?

***

You were sitting on the couch, under Ace’s arm, listening to your Aunt Delilah tell a story about the time she accidentally performed at a concert she wasn’t supposed to be at in the first place. You were okay. Sitting with your family, talking, laughing and eating. It was fun, but you couldn’t shake that feeling that had been gnawing at you all night.

(C/N) should be here. He’s family too.

As Aunt Delilah finished her story, her husband, Ricky, piped up. “Hey, sport, where’s your other half? Usually, we can’t get you two to stop talking long enough for Delilah to get through a story.” Everyone laughed as you tried to give a smile that probably looked more like a grimace.

“Umm, I think he’s-” you started but were quickly cut off by the sound of the doorbell. Furrowing your eyebrows you looked around. “Are any of you expecting anyone else?”

Murmurs of no went through your family as you stood up, going to answer the door. You left the living room and went through the dining hall and the kitchen in order to get to the door. Upon opening it your jaw just about hit the floor.

Standing in front of you was (C/N) in a black hoodie and jeans holding a huge bouquet of carnations— your favorite flowers.

“Happy Birthday, Love,” he said nervously. “I-I know you’re still mad at me and I shouldn’t have shown up here today, but I couldn’t help myself. I had to see you.” He handed you the flowers. You looked up at him and quirked an eyebrow. “You still won’t speak to me, huh? Jesus, I made a real mess out of things, didn’t I?”

He dropped his head to stare at his feet as he blinked back an oncoming wave of tears and shoved his hands in his pockets, shuffling anxiously, mentally preparing himself for you to tell him to go away or to throw the flowers back at him or to slam the door. His chest hurt just thinking about the endless ways you could get rid of him.

“Thank you,” you said and his head snapped up to you. “I didn’t think you were gonna show up.”

“And miss your birthday?” He asked incredulously. “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.” He bit down on his lips as he looked at you. He could’ve cried he was so happy. You were speaking to him again.

Shifting your weight from one foot to the other you asked, “How are things with Lilith?” You kept a calm face but internally you were praying he said awful. You didn’t know if you could handle it if things were going well with her.

His eyebrows raised in surprise. Of all the things he thought you would say, he didn’t predict that one. A nervous chuckle left his lips. “Nonexistent as of recently.”

“Really? What happened?” You asked curiously, a small part of your foolishly hoping that it had something to do with you.

“She just... she wasn’t what I really wanted.” His eyes met yours as he spoke and a shiver went down your spine. You nodded your head slowly. “Can I... can we talk? Please? I really need to fix this.”

You shook your head and stepped back gesturing for him to come in. The two of you walked silently into the kitchen where you took a seat on a countertop and he leaned against the wall across from you, gnawing on his bottom lip. He’d prepared his apology at least a hundred times on the way here and now, with you in front of him, he couldn’t say one word.

“So, are we gonna talk or do you want a picture?” You said with an icy edge to your voice, breaking the silence. The tension in the room was driving you mad. The corners of his lips turned up ruefully.

“(Y/N).. I am so sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean a word of it-”

“Why did you say it then?” You had intended to let him finish what he was saying but the question had been plaguing you for weeks now and if you didn’t get an answer you were gonna scream.

“I...” his voice trailed off. “I don’t know. I know that’s not a good enough answer but it’s the truth. I don’t know why I said that or where that came from. You’re my best friend and I love you. These past few weeks without you have been the worst weeks of my life.” He pushed off the wall and came and stood a bit closer.

Not close enough.

“So, what? You say sorry and I’m supposed to pretend that you didn’t basically tell me that you don’t want to be friends with me anymore?” You furrowed your brows in frustration. You wanted to forgive him, you missed him like crazy, but he still hurt your feelings really badly and you didn’t want it to feel like what he said to you was okay.

“I don’t expect that at all,” he said honestly. “I honestly was expecting for you to raise hell when I showed up here in the first place. It’s totally fine if you’re still mad at me-- I’m still mad at me, just don’t shut me out anymore, please. I can’t take it. The silent treatment is killing me and I miss my best friend.” He stuck his bottom lip out in an adorable pout that he only brought out when he wanted something from you. It was totally unfair and he knew it but he was desperate. 

You let your shoulders drop as you let out a long sigh. You were trying to stay mad, but when he did the pouting thing and sounded so miserable, you felt your resolve slipping fast. 

“Do you really think I’m clingy?” You asked in a small voice as you looked down in your lap. 

“No.” He came and stood in front of you. He wanted to pull you to him and kiss you until both your lips were sore, but he settled for just being close to you. In those few weeks without you, he almost forgot how much self-restraint he had to practice around you— and how intoxicating your presence was. “You are in no way, shape or form clingy. If anything I’m the clingy one. If you aren’t there I don’t even know what to do with myself,” he laughed lightly and you let out a snicker as you rolled your eyes shoving him lightly.

He quickly caught your hand in his own and held it against his chest as he moved to stand between your knees. Leaning forward he placed his forehead on yours and your breath caught in your chest.

He was so close.

You were grateful that you were already sitting or else you were sure your knees would’ve given in already. His scent engulfed you, making you feel safe and at home like it always did.

“I’m lost without you, love,” he whispered as he bumped his nose against yours. “I’m not prepared to lose you, (Y/N.) I can’t. I won’t survive it.”

You knew you should say something back. You should tell him that you forgave him or to back away or question him again, but you couldn’t even breath properly with him this close to you, let alone speak.

Jesus.

You thought that your heart was gonna leap out of your chest if he got any closer.

He knew he should back up, that he was going just a bit too far— getting a bit too close.

He knew that he was doing things that friends shouldn’t do with other friends. But you were sitting in front of him for the first time in forever and you were looking at him with those eyes that had always been a weakness for him. He’d do just about anything you wanted and all you had to do was look at him.

As he stood there he noticed how shallow your breaths were becoming.

Could it be possible you wanted him too?

Swallowing hard he opened his mouth and began to whisper, “(Y/N), I’m about to ask you something and I want you to know it’s perfectly fine if you say no, alright?” His gaze flickered between your eyes and your lips that were coated in chap-stick since you didn’t feel like putting on lipstick. They looked so soft and inviting— all he wanted was to find out what they felt like when pressed against his.

You nodded your head slightly and he took a deep breath. “Can I k-”

“Who was at the- oh,” Ace said as he entered the kitchen, mouth falling open at the sight of his baby sister on the counter with her best friend hovering too close to be considered friendly. (C/N) pulled away from you like you were on fire— a small part of him was scared your brother was gonna beat him for being that close to you. Your cheeks turned scarlet as you stared down at the floor, baffled.

Was he about to ask if he could kiss you?

“I was wondering when you were gonna show up,” Ace smiled at (C/N) and threw an arm over him. “So you two made up?”

(C/N)’s eyes immediately went to you, silently begging you to tell him that things were okay between you. You nodded, maintaining eye contact with (C/N) who broke into the widest grin you’d ever seen on him.

“Great!” Ace exclaimed. “That means I don’t have to actually be her big brother and kick you out. Being her brother is exhausting, y’know.”

“It couldn’t be half as much work as being your little sister,” you joked, sticking your tongue out at Ace.

“On the contrary, little monster, you continually prove yourself to be quite the handful. Especially around loverboy here.” Ace squeezed (C/N) shoulder in a playful manner, but (C/N)’s stomach lurched as he looked at you, almost scared of your response.

You saw exactly what your brother was doing. He knew you had feelings for (C/N) and he was trying to call you out. Refusing to give him the satisfaction, you simply said “If anyone’s the handful, it’s you. The number of times I’ve had to lie for you. God. I should get an academy award for my performances.”

A strange sense of relief and disappointment spread in the pit of (C/N)’s stomach. You hadn’t said anything basically outright telling him that you didn’t want him, but that was because you didn’t address that part of the sentence at all. A second ago, he was pretty sure you were gonna let him kiss you because you wanted him too, but now he had no idea.

“Yeah, yeah.” Ace rolled his eyes. “Be sure to give me a shout out when you win your first award since I was the one who gave you your first gig. Let’s go, Uncle Ricky is waiting.”

“Why?”

“You know him, he’s as nosy as it gets. He wants to know,” a sneaky grin spread across your brothers face as he looked between you and (C/N), “what was taking you so long.”

Your heart immediately dropped to your feet as you realized the compromising position your brother had caught you two in. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me, little monster.” Ace smirked at you before blowing you a kiss and starting to run away. You were quick on your feet and chasing him almost immediately.

Heels be damned.

“Ace! Get back here!”

Ace ran all the way to where your family was sitting in the living room, opening his big mouth he said breathlessly with a huge grin on his face, “Hey Uncle Ricky, you won’t believe what I-” You didn’t even want to know how he was gonna finish his sentence and you weren’t gonna find out. You literally jumped on him, causing you both to topple to the floor as a chorus of laughter erupted throughout the room.

Popping up, onto your feet and adjusting your skirt so you weren’t flashing anyone (by anyone you meant (C/N)) you gave everyone a bright smile and said: “Guess who finally showed up.”

Everyone followed your line of sight to see (C/N) standing in the doorway, staring back at you adoringly. You were the only person he knew that could tackle your older brother to the floor and get up like nothing happened.

“C/N! Hey, come on in, have a seat,” your mom said and (C/N) happily obliged.

You watched for a minute, loving how well he fit in with your family before he turned to you and patted the empty seat next to him, mouthing a quick “I miss you,” that made your heart flutter before going to sit next to him. Automatically, he had you under his arm, pulling you to his chest and you had to fight the smile that was trying to make its way onto your face.

***

“Are you gonna stay the night?” You asked while absentmindedly tracing shapes on (C/N)’s abdomen. Your family had left a little while ago, your parents going upstairs as well as Ace, the rest of your family going back home. It was around 11 now and you and (C/N) were still sitting on the couch cuddled together.

You had your head in his lap and his fingers gently traced the frame of your face, moving into your hair to play with it.

“I didn’t pack an overnight bag,” he said with a small pout, almost upset with himself. “I didn’t think that this night would go as well as it did. Thought you would’ve slammed the door in my face.”

“You thought I was that mad?”

He scoffed as he tugged at your hair slightly to make you look at him, “You gave me the silent treatment for two straight weeks. You wouldn’t talk to me, look at me or even be around me. Yeah, I thought you were that mad.” Rolling his eyes, he let out a sarcastic laugh.

“Well if it makes you feel better, I was hoping all day that you would show up. I didn’t care if we didn’t speak at all, I just wanted you here. Felt wrong having every other important person in my life here and not having you here.”

“Really?” He asked, looking down at you with uncertainty. “I thought you didn’t care. Was scared that you were done with me entirely.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” You hit his stomach lightly. “I don’t care how mad I get, at the end of the day you’re family. I can’t imagine what my life would be like without you.”

He smiled down at you softly, your words making him practically melt. After two long weeks, you were here, lying in his lap, staring up at him with those gorgeous eyes and he couldn’t have been happier.

“Alright, alright,” you waved a hand dismissively through the air. “Enough sentimental stuff, you know I love you already. I wanna know what happened with Lilith.”

Knowing that they didn’t work made you happy in a way you shouldn’t be but you were also curious as to why.

“Oh uh..” using his free hand he scratched the back of his neck nervously. “Nothing really. We started spending some time together and she’s amazing, but she’s just not what I need, y’know?”

His heart was pounding in his chest. This felt too much like him telling you that he wanted you and it was scaring the life out of him.

“What is it that you need?” You asked, staring up at him with innocent questioning eyes.

You. You. You.

“Just... something else. Someone else,” he muttered under his breath, almost hoping that you didn’t hear him. He wanted to tell you exactly how he was feeling. He thought about how easy it would be for him to just blurt it out, but he didn’t know if you felt the same. He would rather keep you in his life as a friend than lose you trying to push for more.

And yet, as much as he tried to sit there and convince himself that this was enough— that just being your best friend was enough, everything in him was telling him it wasn’t. It never would be.

He wanted to be your best friend, your boyfriend, your lover, your confidant, your other half. He wanted to be able to kiss you and call you his. He wanted you— all of you.

“(Y/N)?”

“Hmm?”

“If I asked to kiss you what would say?”

You could’ve choked on your own spit as your eyes snapped to his before you got a hold of yourself and gave him a playful smirk, thinking this was just another one of your normal teasing moments. “Awww, honey. If you wanted me all you had to do was say so,” you said singsongily as you sat up so you could look at him directly.

“So that’s it? All I have to do is say so and you’re mine?” He wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you closer to him.

“Just say the word and I’m yours,” you mumbled in agreement, beginning to feel like this was more than your normal teasing. His eyes were trained on your lips, staring at them like you would stare at a piece of art. “(C/N).” you said lowly.

“Yes?” He whispered, still staring at you as his eyes glazed over. One of his hand reached up to push a strand of hair behind your ear.

Hesitantly, you leaned in until you were a breath away from him. One small move and his lips would be against yours. “Tell me what you want.”

Titling his head he leaned in and let his lips brush over yours. “You.”

Your heart was beating so fast you couldn’t even hear it anymore. “What are you waiting for?” you mumbled against his lips and that was all he needed to hear.

He smashed his lips to yours fervently and his hand cupped the back of your neck keeping you pressed against him, while his other hand tighten around your waist. You kissed back just as desperately, grabbing him by the front of his hoodie to draw him closer, not liking the space between the two of you, no matter how small.

You pulled back for a second to say something, but completely forgot whatever it was you were gonna say a second later as he reattached his lips to yours. Without even thinking, he grabbed your leg and placed it on the other side of him so you were straddling him. He knew he should probably slow down but he didn’t know how. Not when you tasted this good and felt so right pressed against him like this.

His hands didn’t seem to know how to stay still, moving from your face to your neck to your waist and hips to your bare thighs as your skirt continued to ride up. Absentmindedly you grinded down into him, eliciting a surprised groan of pleasure from him. His lips left yours for a moment to pull his hoodie off, the fabric was keeping him from feeling you the way he wanted and it was driving him mad.

Gripping your hips and pulling you close, he pressed open mouth kisses to your neck. He stopped for a moment to bite down, causing a moan to come from the back of your throat and you felt him smile and laugh a little against you.

“What’s so funny?” You asked while trying to catch your breath. He pulled back to look at you, pressing a firm kiss against your lips.

“That’s the first time I’ve ever heard you moan,” he said with pride laced in his voice. He loved the sound and had every intention of pulling it out of you as many times as he could. You rolled your eyes at him and shook your head.

Before you realized it, he had your chin gripped tightly in his hand, forcing you to look him in the eye. “Keep doing that and I’m gonna have to give you a reason to roll your eyes.”

The threat sent a shiver down your spine as he leaned in and bit down hard on your bottom lip, making you wince.

After licking it to ease the pain, he looked at you again, a sharp challenging look in his eyes. “Understood?”

Not trusting your voice, you nodded your head. If you weren’t turned on before you definitely were now.

Smirking at you, he mumbled, “Good.” And then you were lost in his kiss again, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth, making you let out a broken moan.

You don’t know how long you sat there locking lips, but things were getting heated quickly between you grinding into him, his hands moving further and further up your thighs, gripping them so tight that you were sure you were gonna have bruises in the morning and the moans you both were letting out. The sexual tension alone was enough to drive you to keep going, but eventually, you needed to breathe, much to both of your dismay.

Pulling back, you both tried to catch your breath. His grip on you didn’t loosen at all, he was scared you’d move away if it did. Simultaneously you realized that this wasn’t just some guy who you kissed and were now on top of— this was (C/N.) Your best friend.

A part of you was scared that it was just a heat of the moment thing rather than anything more. God, you prayed it was more.

“Well, that was...” you started dazedly.

“Yeah,” he finished for you, still out of breath, a small smile making it way onto his face.

“So um,” you cleared your throat, sitting up a little straighter while taking a deep breath, pushing a few stray hairs behind your ears. “What was that?”

“I think that was called a kiss, love. I’m sure you’ve done it before,” he teased, tugging you closer by your hips. You weren’t sure how much closer the two of you could get, but this didn’t stop him from trying.

“Yes, I’ve done it before,” you rolled your eyes, “I-”

“What did I say about rolling your eyes?” He asked sternly as he squeezed your hips to get your attention as if he didn’t already have it. You lost your train of thought as the idea of rolling your eyes again just to see what he would do crossed your mind.

“Uh, as I was saying,” you made a conscious effort not to roll your eyes like you wanted to. “Friends don’t kiss friends and we’re supposed to be,” you voice wavered off as he started tracing small circles on your sides, “just friends.”

Moving closer, he pressed light kisses on your neck. “We.” Kiss. “Aren’t.” Kiss. “Just.” Kiss. “Friends.” He bit you and you let out a small groan. His head moved up so he was looking you directly in the eye.

“(C/N), what are you trying to sa-”

“I’m saying that I love you,” he said with surety in his tone. He didn’t know if you felt the same way he did before, but after a kiss like that, he was sure. There was no way you could kiss him like that and not feel anything. 

You couldn’t believe your ears and you look at him with disbelief. “Babe, this isn’t a good time for you to be joking around.” The pet name slipped off your lips before you could stop it and he smiled. 

“And who says I’m joking around, love?” 

You bit down on your bottom lip, still not sure if you should believe him. It sounded too good to be true.

“Do you remember that night that we sat up in my room watching Shrek 2 and you started singing I Need a Hero?” he asked randomly and your scrunched up your face. 

“Of course, but what does that have to do with anything?”  “That was the night I realized just how hopelessly in love with you I am.” Taking your hands in his, praying silently that you believed him. “For as long as I can remember, you’ve always been there. I don’t remember what my life was like before you came into it. Every girl I’ve ever tried to be with always turned me down because they all said that they thought that I was in love with you. At first, I thought they were crazy,” he let out a quick laugh as he looked down at your hands. “Until I realized that I was comparing every girl to you. None of them even came close to you, baby.” 

“(C/N)-” “Wait, just... let me finish this. I might chicken out if I don’t get all this out right now,” he said, cracking a smile. You nodded understandingly and he continued.  “The reason that I didn’t want you there when Lilith came over was that I knew if you were there, I wouldn’t be able to focus on anything else.” He let out a shaky breath, the first visibly nervous action you’ve seen out of him since he kissed you. “I tried getting over you. I tried to put all those feelings into Lilith, but the more time I spent with her these past few weeks, the more I thought of you. I even kissed her, and it was a good kiss,” you raised an eyebrow at him, silently asking why he was telling you about his kiss with another girl. Laughing a little, he kissed your knuckles. 

“But no matter how good a kiss it was, I still pictured myself kissing you. No matter how much I tried, she was never gonna be you.”  Placing your hands on his chest, he wrapped his arms around your waist. 

“I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending it’s you,” he whispered like a confession. “I don’t want anyone else and I don’t want to pretend I do.”  You scrambled mentally for something to say and after a few beats you said with a loving smile on your lips, “You win.”  “I win?” You could’ve laughed at the puzzled look on his face. “I tell you I love you and you tell me I won?” He let out a nervous laugh. “Am I missing something?”

“You don’t remember our deal? You take a risk that I deem worthy and I’ll do any one thing for you. You told me you loved me-- huge risk. So you win. All you have to do now is claim your reward,” you said suggestively. He stared at you blankly for a moment before realizing what you were saying. 

You slung your arms over his neck as he grinned mischievously. “So I get to have anything? Anything I want? Including you?” 

“I said anything, didn’t I?” you said sweetly as you gave him a quick kiss on the mouth. He tried to kiss you again, but you stopped him. Before he could protest and plant another kiss on your lips you said, “I love you too.” 

That effectively froze him in place. This whole day had to be a dream. Not only did he get his best friend back, but she loved him back too? If he died now he would die a happy man.  “I’ve known it for a while now, I just didn’t think that you feeling the same way was possible.” You rested your forehead against his and whispered, “You can have me anytime you get ready, all you have to do is ask.”

“Be mine?” He whispered back, his lips ghosting over yours.

“I’ve been yours for a long time, babe. It’s always been me and you.”

This time you leaned in to connect your lips together, knowing that there was nothing else either of you could’ve said to each other.

***

One year later...

“Where’s the birthday girl?” (C/N) shouted as he came bathing into your dorm room with a bouquet of flowers and balloons and a gift bag.

Excitedly, you hopped off your bed and ran directly into his arms.

“There you are,” he mused as he hugged you back tightly. It’d been a while since you’d seen him face to face since you’d been holed up in your room studying for your Lit exam that was coming up. “Happy birthday, my love.”

Pulling back slightly, you pushed up on your tippy toes and pressed a firm kiss to his lips before mumbling against them, “Happy anniversary.”

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[kookspierogis]

The Roommate Agreement- Original novel Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Lying is the most fun a girl can have without taking her clothes off

I completely and utterly hate life.

I’m sorry maybe I should start from the beginning. My name is Benjamin Rigel, I recently graduated from Melbourne Central high school and turn nineteen in a few days. Okay where was I? Oh, right, well I hate my life.

I know, it’s the most generic, basic thing a teenager (a legal adult in the eyes of the law mind you) to say in existence, but it is true. I thought I had it all. I run a hand through my hair in frustration, before pulling on my beloved grey beanie. See, my “girlfriend” is cheating on me. I use the term “girlfriend” very loosely.

I use it loosely because she hasn’t really been my girlfriend for months, not that I actually care anymore. I swear she brings home someone new every night, girl or guy it doesn’t matter. I can hear sounds coming out of the bedroom, our bedroom, where we sleep- as a couple. Bangs on the wall and screams of ecstasy that belong to my girlfriend and her partner, who obviously isn’t me. I scoff at the thought.

‘Of course it isn’t me, I’m just a boy to her, nothing more.’ It’s true of course, I’ve never been anything to her, and all I have and still currently been feeling for the past few months is bitter, sad, disappointment. All I can do is listen on, sad that I’m not the one sharing the bed, that I had genuinely thought that she was into me romantically, someone who cared for me.  Not everyone can have what they want. It doesn’t help that I had a reputation in school.

I fiddle with my beanie in guilt of the past, but it helps because it muffles her screaming her partners name out, which as stated before, is not mine. I put my headphones in, hoping to drown out the sounds from down the hall, pressing shuffle.

‘Is it still me that makes you sweat?

Am I who you think about in bed?

When the lights are dim and your hands are shaking as you're sliding off your dress?

Well, then think of what you did

And how I hope to God he was worth it

When the lights are dim and your heart is racing as your fingers touch your skin’

I walk over to the closet, which has a duffel bag filled with my stuff. Ironically I was going to live with her, believing that everything would okay, that she would love me the way I once loved her.

‘I've got more wit

A better kiss

A hotter touch a better fuck

Than any boy you'll ever meet’

Collecting my stuff, I decide to head home. To my mums apartment, in some classy neighborhood South-East of the city. Surely she would understand. She would hug me, say that everything would be all right and she would comfort me. But I can imagine the sad look on her face as I tell her that I want to finally leave this thing I call a relationship. She would look at me with a face that says ‘I told you so’, and not in a teasing way.

‘Sweetie you had me

Girl, I was it, look past the sweat

A better love deserving of

Exchanging body heat in the passenger seat

No, no, no, you know it will always just be me’

I gather what I can of my things, knowing I’ll have to make a round trip- and officially break things off. I let out another sigh, rubbing my eyes under my glasses from stress and fatigue, tired and sore eyes from the bright light of the TV playing in the living room.

‘Let's get these teen hearts beating

Faster, faster

So testosterone boys and harlequin girls

Will you dance to this beat

And hold a lover clo-’

I pause the music, changing it to the next song in hopes it won’t be related to my current relationship status, and head out the door, pulling up messages and type.

 Benny Boi- 01:06: I’ll be back sometime this week, don’t wait for me.

I pull on my MCHS jumper, slinging my duffel bag over my shoulder and walk out of the apartment, down the stairs and into the bustling life of the Melbourne CBD. As I step onto Flinders Lane I can hear her phone ping through the window, signaling that my message got to her, not that she would notice it over getting laid like there’s no tomorrow.

As per usual she doesn’t notice a thing.

 I turn and leave, walking up Russell street before turning onto Collins and jumping on the tram, heading to a quaint little bar on Meyers plane, off Little Collins street called ‘The Space Project’. I am a regular every second Wednesday with my friends from school, but I never come on a Sunday night- or Monday morning in my case, but tonight I need a drink and there is nowhere else I would go to get one. Think of it as liquid courage before I go see my mum.

 The glass door decorated with lights and a sign flashing brightly as if it was screaming ‘open!’ comes into view, and I walk faster, eager to get this night over with, knowing what my mum will think when I show up at her door at three or four in the morning. I push open the door, which always gets me by surprise with its weight, a faint bell rings as the door closes and I walk over to the bar, pulling out the wooden bar stool with a carving of some constellation- the word ‘cancer’ carved on the leg of the stool.  I wave my hand to signal the bartender and I focus of the small lights on the roof, not noticing the bartender arrive in front of me. I hear a cough and I shake my head out of my stupor, focusing on the guy in front of me. Except it isn’t a guy.

 A beautiful girl with her blonde hair in a half ponytail updo down to her shoulders, freckles dusting her cheeks like stars and big, brown, doe eyes inspects me, as if she judging my character and deciding whether to serve me alcohol or not at the same time, though she would have a hard time doing so because she was only about twenty centimetres taller than the bar itself, so about 5”4.

“You look like you’ve either had a real shitty night, or you’re plain drunk.” She states.

“Well you’re right about the first point,” I hold my hand out to her. “I’m Benjamin” She eyes me for a moment, her eyes widening slightly at the sight of my school jumper. The girl wearily take my hand and shakes it.

“I know who you are, we graduated in the same year, I’m Persephone. So I’m guessing you finally had enough of Anne-Lucine? She’s a real bitch you know, like the female version of Draco Malfoy-only worse.” I was about to defend Annie, but I have no reason to. I sigh at her, and Persephone looks at me with sympathy, knowing that her guess was correct. I give her a look, deciding whether or not to trust her, but if she can call Annie of all people a bitch, surely I can.

“She’s been cheating on me for months, I did confront her at one point about it but she didn’t stop, and I have decided that I need to let go of her.” Persephone smiles at me.

“Well good for you, at least you realised that it was toxic.” She disappears for a second before returning with two shots of tequila. I eye her and she chuckles lightly.

“On the house, but this is the only drink I’m having, because there is no way in hell a bartender can be drunk on the job.” I laugh before replying.

“Someone has to stay sober here.” Persephone lets out a sweet, genuine laugh. “So how did you end up working as a bartender?” I ask her.

“My aunt actually owns this place, so I’ve always grown up around watching people mix cocktails and drink to their heart's content.” Persephone has a starry look in her eyes, and I can see that she really enjoys her job.

“What about you, do you work?” I grin at the thought.

“I work at a vintage store.” Her eyes light up.

“The one on Little Bourke st?”

“That’s the one.” Persephone looks ecstatic.

“I love that store!” I can’t help smile at her enthusiasm, really happy that someone I now know is interested in what I do.  I feel my phone buzz in my pocket, and I pull it out to see.

 Annie-Lu - 01:47:  Where r u?

I let out a sigh and slip my phone back into my pocket,  not wanting to deal with Annie’s bullshit right now. I guess she’s finished with the other guy and wants to see me. Persephone gives me a look and I know I made the right decision to leave. I turn my attention back to the girl in front of me.

“So if we graduated in the same year, how come I never saw you?”

“Do you know Apollina, Eden and Brendon?”

“Sun goddess, garden of god and Brendon Urie? Yeah I know them, but I can’t quite put a face to those names.” I see Persephone smile at the nicknames.

“I was with them on the roof most of the time.” I think of MCHS, the multi level building in the heart of the city, and the garden roof on the top and let out a sound of recognition, nodding in understanding.

“I can see why, I used to go up there to study after school.” We chatter for a bit longer, talking about school as if we had never left, life and other shit, you know, sappy and sentimental crap. I look at the clock to see how much time has past (of course why else would anyone look at a clock, come on).  

 02:11, crap. I have no idea how I could’ve let time slip away from me so quickly, but I can feel the realisation of what I have just done sink in, and I realise that I have to go, because mum will definitely kill me if I show up later than three. I look back to Persephone, who has left momentarily to serve a customer- some woman with stretchers in her ears big enough to fit a hand through. The woman is given a glass of something and Persephone jumps back over to me.

“Look, I have to go, it’s late, but I will try to arrive here on early Monday mornings.” Persephone looks saddened by my statement, but pulls out a pen from under the counter, grabbing my hand in her firm but gentle grasp, writing something onto my hand (it’s her number, oh my god her number!) before letting go.

“Just in case you ever need someone to talk to who isn’t a bitch, and because I want to be your friend since I never got the chance before.” I smile gratefully as I stand, and she returns it, her brown eyes gleaming with a happiness I cannot describe.

“Thank you, Persephone, it was really nice to finally get all of that off my chest.”

“No problem. Talk to you soon, I hope.” and she leaves to serve another customer, giving me the cue to leave, pushing the heavy door open once more I set out towards Parliament station.

 I pull on my beanie over my headphones to keep my ears warm from the cool of the night and the cold chill of the station. I pace down the stairs and tap my myki, walking down the escalators before reaching the furthest platform. I close my eyes, realising how tired I actually am, before feeling the cold wind blow into the platform as the train arrives.

 As I travel South-East on the train, I can’t help but think over tonight. My decision to leave Anne-Lucine is a big one, as I’ve been with her since halfway through year ten, to end a three year relationship like that- a toxic one, well, things are going to change. And the look of disappointment on my mums face, that will just be the icing on the cake.

 I should explain who exactly my mum is, aside from being my mum of course. My mum, Yadira Rigel, is half Arabic and half Australian, and the nicest woman on this planet, which is a shame because those who are the kindest always have it the worst. My father- a Spanish man who immigrated to Australia, dumped and left her after a few years into their relationship, without ever knowing I existed in her stomach at the time. My mum refuses to let me meet him.

 On another note, she is my best friend, my confidant and I tell her absolutely everything, including my school and relationship life, and when I first told her about my relationship with Annie, she shook her head, clearly upset with my choice of person-as if she sensed bad vibes off Anne-Lucine.

‘Now arriving at: Hartwell’

I stand up a bit too quickly, making my head and vision spin out of control, a headache forming from the fatigue of staying up all night. I step off the train and into the dark night-well, morning, walking up the path through the park and into the apartment building.

 I press the button to the lift impatiently, tapping my foot in urgence- nervous at my mum’s reaction to my news, and elation at the fact that I am visiting my mum for the first time in a long while. Finally, the lift arrives and I step into it, pressing the button for level five and wait yet again, leaning against the cool mirror of the lift.

A ding signals my arrival and I step out, turning the corner. The golden letters of apartment 506 gleam on the door, the metal tastefully adding a pop of color to the grey-themed building, beckoning me to knock. I can hear the TV playing behind the door, meaning that mum is either awake watching something akin to Star Trek: Discovery or passed out on the couch (It’s probably the latter).

 I hesitate to knock the door. What is she going to think? Me showing up at her door at nearly three in the morning, in my highschool jumper and trackies, she’ll have no words. But this is my mama, I’m sure that she’ll understand. At last I gain the courage to knock on my mum’s door, just three knocks.

“Min Allaena!” I hear her shout in Arabic, clearly pissed. Whoops. The door swings open and I face my mum with a warm smile and a guilty look on my face. She just smiles at me.

“Hi mama.”

[woodsens]

Where to Find Guest Blogging Opportunities on fireinsidemusic.com

Correction Appended

On an album of bittersweet childrens tracks that she wrote greater than ten years in the past, the lady who arrived for being acknowledged only as being the piano Trainer offered what, in hindsight, seems like an eerie glimpse of her possess foreseeable future.

Im shifting away right now to a place so far-off, where by nobody is aware my identify, she wrote while in the lyrics of a tune known as Relocating.

When she wrote that music, she was young and vivacious, a piano teacher and freelance songs writer who beloved Beethoven and jazz, sunsets and river Seems, extended walks and every little thing about New York.

On a type of beloved walks, by means of Central Park in the bright sun of a June working day in 1996, a homeless drifter beat her and tried to rape her, leaving her clinging to everyday living. Once the assault, the terms to her track came legitimate. She moved away, away from New York City, away from her previous lifestyle, and all but her closest mates didn't know her identify. To the remainder of the planet, she was — much like the additional famous jogger attacked in Central Park 7 many years before — an nameless symbol of the urban nightmare. She was the piano Trainer.

Now, over the 10th anniversary of your assault, she is celebrating what appears to be her entire recovery from brain trauma. She's 42, married, with a small child. She's Kyle Kevorkian McCann, the piano teacher, and she or he wants to notify her story, her way.

Her health care provider informed her it will choose 10 years to Recuperate, and Sunday was that talismanic anniversary. I experience my life is redefined by Central Park, she claimed many days in the past, her voice comfortable and hopeful. Just before park; immediately after park. Will there at any time be described as a time After i dont think, Oh, This can be the tenth anniversary, the eleventh anniversary?

She spoke in her modest ranch home in a very wooded subdivision within a Ny suburb. She sat in a eating home strewn with toys, surrounded by photos of her cherubic, darkish-haired two-year-outdated daughter. A Steinway grand stuffed fifty percent the space, and at one particular point she sat down and played. Her enjoying was forceful, but she seemed embarrassed to Participate in quite a lot of bars, and shrugged, as an alternative to answering, when questioned the title from the piece. She asked that her daughter and her town not be named.

She calls that working day, June four, 1996, the working day Once i was harm.

Hers was the first in a very string of assaults by a similar man on four Women of all ages around 8 days. The final victim, Evelyn Alvarez, 65, was crushed to Dying as she opened her Park Avenue dry-cleansing store, and ultimately, the assailant, John J. Royster, was convicted of murder and sentenced to everyday living in jail.

But the attack over the piano Instructor may be the just one persons look to recollect quite possibly the most. A part of the fascination should do with echoes of your 1989 attack around the Central Park jogger. But In addition it frightened individuals in a means the attack to the jogger did not mainly because its situation had been so mundane.

It didn't happen inside of a distant Portion of the park late at nighttime, but near a favorite playground at three during the afternoon. It might have took place to any one. The tension was heightened with the mystery with the piano lecturers identification.

For 3 times, as police and Physicians attempted to discover who she was, she lay in a coma in her clinic bed, nameless. Her mothers and fathers were on getaway and her boyfriend, also a musician, was in Europe, on tour. Last but not least, one among her learners regarded a law enforcement sketch and was ready to identify her from the healthcare facility by her fingers, since her deal with was swollen further than recognition. The police didn't launch her name.

The very last thing she remembers about June 4, 1996, is supplying a lesson in her studio condominium on West 57th Street, then putting her extended hair in a very ponytail and heading out for the stroll. She doesn't keep in mind the assault, although she has read the accounts with the police and prosecutors.

To me its like a reality I realized and memorized, she claimed. As though I were being a pupil at school researching historical past.

She will not consider the man who did it. I might need been angry for any minute, although not much longer than that, she stated. How could I be indignant at John Royster? He was declared not crazy, but I guess by our standards he was.

Dr. Jamshid Ghajar, her medical doctor at New York Clinic-Cornell Professional medical Heart, as it was identified in 1996, explained to reporters that she had a ten % potential for survival. Medical professionals had to get rid of her forehead bone, which was later changed, to produce space for her swelling Mind. When her mother made a community attract pray for my daughter, thousands did.

Immediately after eight days, she arrived away from a coma, first within a vegetative state, then within a childlike condition. As she recovered, she slept small and talked continually, at times in gibberish. I was receiving mad at people after they didnt respond to these terms, she mentioned.

Like an Alzheimers individual, she experienced minor brief-term memory and would fail to remember readers the moment they left the place.

More than many months, she needed to relearn tips on how to wander, dress, read and compose. Her boyfriend, Tony Scherr, frequented every single day to Participate in guitar for her. He encouraged her to play the piano, from the advice of her Actual physical therapists, who believed she could be disappointed by her incapacity to Participate in just how she once had. Mr. Scherr performed Beatles duets along with her, enjoying the left-hand element though she played the right.

That was my finest therapy, she said.

In August, she moved back again property to New Jersey, together with her father, an engineer, and mother, a schoolteacher. She visited aged haunts and called good friends, hoping to restore her shattered memory. I was incredibly obsessive about remembering, she reported. Any memory reduction was to me a sign of abnormality or deficit.

Her therapists considered her development was fantastic, but her two sisters protested that she wasn't the deep thinker she had been.

What bothered her most was that she experienced dropped the ability to cry, just as if a faucet within her brain had been turned off. One particular evening, 9 months following she was harm, she stayed up late to observe the John Grisham Motion picture A Time to Eliminate. Just immediately after her father had long gone to mattress, she watched a courtroom scene of Samuel Jacksons character on trial for killing two Adult males who experienced raped his young daughter.

The faucet opened, along with the tears trickled down her cheeks. I thought about my mom and dad, my father, and the things they went by means of, she mentioned. Minimal by very little, my experience returned, my depth of mind returned.

Urged by her sisters, she went back to high school and acquired a masters diploma in new music education.

Not everything went effectively. She and Mr. Scherr break up up 5 years after the attack, though they remain good friends. She dated other Adult males, but she often informed them concerning the attack immediately — she could not support it, she explained — they usually under no circumstances called for a second date.

We've got to search out you anyone, her Good friend David Phelps, a guitar participant, said four many years ago, ahead of introducing her to Liam McCann, a computer technician and newbie drummer. For as soon as, she didn't say just about anything concerning the attack right up until she bought to learn Mr. McCann, after which you can when she did, he admired her energy.

Mayor Rudolph W. Giuliani, who had usually frequented her at her bedside when she was during the healthcare facility, married them in his Situations Square Business. She wore a blue dress and pearls. Whilst she was pregnant, inside a burst of creativeness, she and her pals recorded Even though Have been Youthful, an album of childrens tracks that she had created prior to the attack, including the song Transferring. Her ex-boyfriend, Mr. Scherr, developed the CD. On it, her spouse performs drums and he or she plays electrical piano.

Is her existence as it absolutely was? Not precisely, however she's reluctant to attribute the differences to her injuries. Her final two piano students remaining her, without contacting to explain why, she explained. She has resumed taking part in classical new music, but basic pieces, because her daughter won't give her the perfect time to apply. As for jazz, I dont even check out, she stated.

She wish to push much more, sensation stranded within the suburbs, but she is easily rattled. She tries to be information with keeping dwelling and caring for her daughter.

Dr. Ghajar, a clinical professor of neurological surgical treatment at exactly what is now termed Ny-Presbyterian Medical center/Weill Cornell Health-related Centre, who operated on Ms. Kevorkian McCann after the assault, reported previous week that her level of recovery was scarce. Shes essentially typical, he said.

Other industry experts, that are not Individually knowledgeable about Ms. Kevorkian McCanns case, are more careful.

Regaining a chance to Participate in the piano may perhaps require an Virtually mechanical procedure, a semiautomatic remember of what the fingers have to do, said Dr. Yehuda Ben-Yishay, a professor of scientific rehabilitation drugs at Big apple College College of Drugs. As soon as brain-hurt, you are often brain-injured, For the remainder of your life, Dr. Ben-Yishay reported. There isn't a get rid of, There is certainly only intense payment.

The greater telling Element of a Restoration, in his look at, is psychological, and on that score he counts Ms. Kevorkian McCanns relationship and youngster as a major victory.

For her aspect, the piano Instructor knows she has adjusted, but she has produced her peace with it. I had been type of a hyper —— I dont know if I used to be a kind A, but I used to be formidable, she states. Why was I so ambitious? I had been a piano Trainer. I dont know what the ambition was about. I actually did return to the person Im designed to be.

[emilyl-b]

11 Ways to Completely Ruin Your fireinsidemusic

Correction Appended

On an album of bittersweet childrens tracks that she wrote in excess of ten years ago, the woman who arrived to get known only as the piano teacher supplied what, in hindsight, looks like an eerie glimpse of her personal future.

Im relocating absent now to a place so distant, where no one appreciates my name, she wrote inside the lyrics of a song named Going.

When she wrote that tune, she was younger and vivacious, a piano teacher and freelance tunes writer who liked Beethoven and jazz, sunsets and river Appears, prolonged walks and every thing about Big apple.

On a type of beloved walks, by way of Central Park in the bright sun of the June day in 1996, a homeless drifter defeat her and attempted to rape her, leaving her clinging to lifetime. After the attack, the words to her track came correct. She moved away, from Ny city, away from her previous lifetime, and all but her closest mates did not know her identify. To the remainder of the earth, she was — such as far more famous jogger attacked in Central Park seven a long time before — an anonymous symbol of an city nightmare. She was the piano teacher.

Now, around the 10th anniversary of your assault, she's celebrating what appears to be her complete Restoration from brain trauma. She's forty two, married, with a small kid. She is Kyle Kevorkian McCann, the piano teacher, and she hopes to tell her Tale, her way.

Her physician informed her it might choose ten years to Get better, and Sunday was that talismanic anniversary. I truly feel my lifestyle has long been redefined by Central Park, she stated various times ago, her voice comfortable and hopeful. Before park; after park. Will there ever be described as a time Once i dont Assume, Oh, This is actually the 10th anniversary, the eleventh anniversary?

She spoke in her modest ranch property inside of a wooded subdivision in a Ny suburb. She sat in a very dining space strewn with toys, surrounded by photos of her cherubic, darkish-haired two-12 months-outdated daughter. A Steinway grand crammed 50 % the area, and at a single issue she sat down and performed. Her taking part in was forceful, but she seemed humiliated to Perform more than a few bars, and shrugged, as an alternative to answering, when questioned the name in the piece. She questioned that her daughter and her town not be named.

She calls that day, June 4, 1996, the day Once i was damage.

Hers was the first inside a string of assaults by the exact same man on 4 Ladies more than 8 days. The final target, Evelyn Alvarez, 65, was overwhelmed to Loss of life as she opened her Park Avenue dry-cleansing shop, and ultimately, the assailant, John J. Royster, was convicted of murder and sentenced to daily life in prison.

However the assault about the piano Instructor would be the one particular individuals seem to be to remember one of the most. A part of the fascination needs to do with echoes from the 1989 attack within the Central Park jogger. But it also frightened individuals in a method the attack to the jogger did not because its conditions had been so mundane.

It didn't occur inside a remote part of the park late in the evening, but near a well known playground at three within the afternoon. It might have occurred to everyone. The strain was heightened by the thriller in the piano academics id.

For three days, as law enforcement and doctors tried to learn who she was, she lay in a coma in her clinic bed, nameless. Her mom and dad were being on vacation and her boyfriend, also a musician, was in Europe, on tour. Lastly, certainly one of her learners identified a police sketch and was able to recognize her while in the medical center by her fingers, for the reason that her deal with was swollen beyond recognition. The police did not release her name.

The very last thing she remembers about June four, 1996, is providing a lesson in her studio condominium on West 57th Street, then putting her lengthy hair inside a ponytail and likely out for a wander. She would not keep in mind the assault, Though she has read the accounts from the law enforcement and prosecutors.

To me its like a simple fact I discovered and memorized, she mentioned. As if I had been a pupil in class learning history.

She won't give thought to The person who did it. I might have been offended for a instant, but not for much longer than that, she stated. How could I be offended at John Royster? He was declared not crazy, but I assume by our expectations he was.

Dr. Jamshid Ghajar, her health care provider at Ny Hospital-Cornell Health care Middle, as it was acknowledged in 1996, told reporters that she experienced a ten percent prospect of survival. Doctors had to get rid of her forehead bone, which was afterwards replaced, for making room for her swelling brain. When her mother built a community attract pray for my daughter, thousands did.

After 8 days, she came out of a coma, initially within a vegetative condition, then in a very childlike condition. As she recovered, she slept very little and talked continuously, in some cases in gibberish. I had been acquiring mad at folks if they didnt respond to these text, she stated.

Like an Alzheimers affected individual, she had minor shorter-expression memory and would forget visitors when they remaining the room.

Around quite a few months, she had to relearn how you can walk, dress, go through and produce. Her boyfriend, Tony Scherr, frequented every day to Enjoy guitar for her. He encouraged her to Perform the piano, from the recommendation of her Actual physical therapists, who believed she could well be disappointed by her incapacity to Enjoy just how she after had. Mr. Scherr played Beatles duets with her, taking part in the left-hand aspect though she performed the appropriate.

Which was my ideal therapy, she explained.

In August, she moved again household to New Jersey, together with her father, an engineer, and mom, a schoolteacher. She visited old haunts and called buddies, hoping to revive her shattered memory. I used to be quite obsessive about remembering, she stated. Any memory decline was to me an indication of abnormality or deficit.

Her therapists thought her development was marvelous, but her two sisters protested that she was not the deep thinker she had been.

What bothered her most was that she had lost a chance to cry, as if a faucet inside her brain had been turned off. Just one evening, nine months right after she was damage, she stayed up late to watch the John Grisham Motion picture A The perfect time to Get rid of. Just following her father experienced long gone to mattress, she viewed a courtroom scene of Samuel Jacksons character on demo for killing two Adult men who experienced raped his younger daughter.

The faucet opened, as well as the tears trickled down her cheeks. I thought of my mom and dad, my father, and what they went by way of, she claimed. Minimal by small, my experience returned, my depth of head returned.

Urged by her sisters, she went back again to high school and acquired a masters degree in new music instruction.

Not every little thing went nicely. She and Mr. Scherr break up up five years once the assault, however they continue to be mates. She dated other Adult men, but she usually informed them with regards to the attack immediately — she could not assist it, she claimed — plus they by no means called for the next date.

We've got to discover you an individual, her Close friend David Phelps, a guitar player, stated 4 several years back, in advance of introducing her to Liam McCann, a computer technician and beginner drummer. For as soon as, she did not say everything with regards to the attack until she acquired to be aware of Mr. McCann, after which when she did, he admired her energy.

Mayor Rudolph W. Giuliani, who experienced often visited her at her bedside although she was within the medical center, married them in his Moments Sq. Office environment. She wore a blue costume and pearls. Although she was pregnant, in a very burst of creativeness, she and her friends recorded When Have been Younger, an album of childrens music that she experienced composed before the attack, such as the music Going. Her ex-boyfriend, Mr. Scherr, produced the CD. On it, her partner performs drums and she plays electric piano.

Is her everyday living as it absolutely was? Not accurately, however she is unwilling to attribute the dissimilarities to her injuries. Her last two piano college students remaining her, with out calling to elucidate why, she explained. She has resumed taking part in classical new music, but uncomplicated items, mainly because her daughter would not give her time and energy to apply. As for jazz, I dont even try out, she claimed.

She would want to generate a lot more, experience stranded from the suburbs, but she is well rattled. She attempts to be information with remaining residence and caring for her daughter.

Dr. Ghajar, a clinical professor of neurological surgical treatment at what exactly is now known as The big apple-Presbyterian Medical center/Weill Cornell Clinical Heart, who operated on Ms. Kevorkian McCann after the attack, said final week that her degree of Restoration was scarce. Shes essentially typical, he stated.

Other specialists, who are not Individually knowledgeable about Ms. Kevorkian McCanns circumstance, are more careful.

Regaining the opportunity to Engage in the piano might entail an almost mechanical method, a semiautomatic remember of exactly what the fingers ought to do, reported Dr. Yehuda Ben-Yishay, a professor of medical rehabilitation medication at New York University School of Drugs. Once brain-hurt, you happen to be often brain-wounded, For the remainder of your lifetime, Dr. Ben-Yishay mentioned. There's no remedy, There's only intensive payment.

The greater telling Component of a recovery, in his view, is psychological, and on that score he counts Ms. Kevorkian McCanns marriage and little one as a significant victory.

For her aspect, the piano Instructor is aware of she has adjusted, but she has designed her peace with it. I used to be type of a hyper —— I dont know if I was a Type A, but I was ambitious, she states. Why was I so ambitious? I was a piano Trainer. I dont know what the ambition was about. I actually did return to the person Im supposed to be.

[homestuckcanonconfirmer]

Will best keyboard for beginners

Correction Appended

On an album of bittersweet childrens music that she wrote more than ten years in the past, the girl who arrived to generally be recognized only given that the piano Instructor supplied what, in hindsight, seems like an eerie glimpse of her very own future.

Im shifting away currently to a location so far away, wherever no person is aware of my name, she wrote during the lyrics of the song known as Shifting.

When she wrote that music, she was young and vivacious, a piano Instructor and freelance new music author who liked Beethoven and jazz, sunsets and river Seems, extensive walks and every thing about The big apple.

On one of those beloved walks, by Central Park in the bright Sunlight of a June working day in 1996, a homeless drifter beat her and made an effort to rape her, leaving her clinging to existence. Following the attack, the words and phrases to her music came real. She moved away, out of New York City, outside of her outdated daily life, and all but her closest good friends did not know her title. To the rest of the entire world, she was -- like the far more well-known jogger attacked in Central Park seven several years previously -- an nameless symbol of the urban nightmare. She was the piano Trainer.

Now, about the 10th anniversary from the assault, she's celebrating what is apparently her comprehensive recovery from brain trauma. She is 42, married, with a small baby. She's Kyle Kevorkian McCann, the piano teacher, and she or he really wants to tell her Tale, her way.

Her medical doctor advised her it would just take a decade to Recuperate, and Sunday was that talismanic anniversary. I sense my everyday living has long been redefined by Central Park, she reported various times in the past, her voice soft and hopeful. Prior to park; soon after park. Will there ever certainly be a time After i dont Assume, Oh, Here is the 10th anniversary, the eleventh anniversary?

She spoke in her modest ranch dwelling within a wooded subdivision in a very Ny suburb. She sat within a eating space strewn with toys, surrounded by pictures of her cherubic, darkish-haired two-year-old daughter. A Steinway grand filled 50 percent the place, and at a single level she sat down and played. Her participating in was forceful, but she appeared embarrassed to Engage in quite a lot of bars, and shrugged, rather then answering, when asked the title of the piece. She asked that her daughter and her town not be named.

She phone calls that day, June four, 1996, the day After i was hurt.

Hers was the very first inside of a string of attacks by exactly the same man on 4 Females more than 8 days. The last victim, Evelyn Alvarez, 65, was crushed to Loss of life as she opened her Park Avenue dry-cleaning store, and ultimately, the assailant, John J. Royster, was convicted of murder and sentenced to existence in prison.

But the attack over the piano teacher is definitely the just one people today appear to keep in mind by far the most. Portion of the fascination has got to do with echoes in the 1989 attack within the Central Park jogger. But Furthermore, it frightened folks in a method the assault around the jogger didn't simply because its situations ended up so mundane.

It did not happen inside of a distant Component of the park late during the night, but in close proximity to a preferred playground at three inside the afternoon. It might have happened to anyone. The strain was heightened from the thriller with the piano teachers identification.

For three times, as police and Health professionals tried out to find out who she was, she lay in a very coma in her healthcare facility mattress, anonymous. Her mothers and fathers ended up on vacation and her boyfriend, also a musician, was in Europe, on tour. Last but not least, certainly one of her college students identified a law enforcement sketch and was in a position to discover her inside the hospital by her fingers, for the reason that her confront was swollen further than recognition. The law enforcement did not launch her identify.

The very last thing she remembers about June 4, 1996, is offering a lesson in her studio condominium on West 57th Avenue, then putting her extensive hair inside of a ponytail and heading out to get a wander. She does not keep in mind the attack, Even though she has heard the accounts with the law enforcement and prosecutors.

To me its just like a point I realized and memorized, she claimed. Like I have been a college student in school studying record.

She won't give thought to The person who did it. I might need been angry to get a instant, although not a lot longer than that, she reported. How could I be indignant at John Royster? He was declared not crazy, but I guess by our specifications he was.

Dr. Jamshid Ghajar, her health care provider at The big apple Clinic-Cornell Health-related Center, as it absolutely was acknowledged in 1996, told reporters that she had a 10 per cent potential for survival. Physicians experienced to eliminate her forehead bone, which was later replaced, to generate home for her swelling Mind. When her mother designed a public attract pray for my daughter, hundreds did.

After eight days, she arrived outside of a coma, initial in a vegetative condition, then in a childlike point out. As she recovered, she slept minimal and talked constantly, sometimes in gibberish. I had been obtaining mad at individuals whenever they didnt reply to these words and phrases, she said.

Like an Alzheimers individual, she had little short-expression memory and would forget about people when they left the room.

Over a number of months, she had to relearn the way to walk, costume, study and publish. Her boyfriend, Tony Scherr, visited every day to Enjoy guitar for her. He encouraged her to play the piano, against the recommendation of her Actual physical therapists, who thought she might be disappointed by her incapacity to Engage in the way she after experienced. Mr. Scherr played Beatles duets along with her, playing the still left-hand section whilst she performed the correct.

That was my most effective therapy, she claimed.

In August, she moved back again property to New Jersey, together with her father, an engineer, and mom, a schoolteacher. She visited aged haunts and called close friends, striving to restore her shattered memory. I used to be very obsessive about remembering, she said. Any memory decline was to me an indication of abnormality or deficit.

Her therapists assumed her development was great, but her two sisters protested that she wasn't the deep thinker she had been.

What bothered her most was that she experienced dropped the ability to cry, as if a faucet inside of her Mind were turned off. A person evening, nine months just after she was hurt, she stayed up late to look at the John Grisham Film A Time for you to Eliminate. Just just after her father had long gone to mattress, she watched a courtroom scene of Samuel Jacksons character on trial for killing two Gentlemen who had raped his youthful daughter.

The faucet opened, and also the tears trickled down her cheeks. I thought about my mothers and fathers, my father, and whatever they went by way of, she explained. Minor by small, my experience returned, my depth of intellect returned.

Urged by her sisters, she went back to high school and acquired a masters diploma in new music schooling.

Not almost everything went well. She and Mr. Scherr split up five years once the assault, however they remain mates. She dated other men, but she often instructed them about the assault instantly -- she couldn't help it, she mentioned -- plus they never ever referred to as to get a next day.

We've to search out you an individual, her Good friend David Phelps, a guitar player, stated four yrs back, before introducing her to Liam McCann, a pc technician and newbie drummer. For after, she didn't say just about anything in regards to the assault right until she bought to learn Mr. McCann, and after that when she did, he admired her toughness.

Mayor Rudolph W. Giuliani, who had often visited her at her bedside whilst she was within the hospital, married them in his Times Square office. She wore a blue gown and pearls. While she was pregnant, in a burst of creativity, she and her mates recorded When Were Youthful, an album of childrens tracks that she experienced published ahead of the attack, such as the music Shifting. Her ex-boyfriend, Mr. Scherr, made the CD. On it, her spouse performs drums and she or he plays electrical piano.

Is her daily life as it had been? Not specifically, however she's reluctant to attribute the differences to her injuries. Her last two piano pupils still left her, without calling to elucidate why, she stated. She has resumed enjoying classical tunes, but uncomplicated items, for the reason that her daughter doesn't give her time for you to follow. As for jazz, I dont even try, she stated.

She would like to generate extra, emotion stranded while in the suburbs, but she is easily rattled. She tries to be articles with being property and caring for her daughter.

Dr. Ghajar, a scientific professor of neurological operation at precisely what is now known as NewYork-Presbyterian Healthcare facility/Weill Cornell Professional medical Middle, who operated on Ms. Kevorkian McCann once the assault, stated past week that her level of Restoration was scarce. Shes mainly normal, he mentioned.

Other professionals, who are not personally informed about Ms. Kevorkian McCanns situation, are more cautious.

Regaining a chance to play the piano might entail an Practically mechanical procedure, a semiautomatic recall of exactly what the fingers have to do, mentioned Dr. Yehuda Ben-Yishay, a professor of scientific rehabilitation medicine at Ny College School of Drugs. The moment Mind-wounded, you're generally brain-wounded, For the remainder of your daily life, Dr. Ben-Yishay said. There is not any cure, There may be only intensive payment.

The more telling Portion of a Restoration, in his perspective, is psychological, and on that rating he counts Ms. Kevorkian McCanns marriage and youngster as a substantial victory.

For her part, the piano Instructor appreciates she has adjusted, but she has manufactured her peace with it. I was form of a hyper ---- I dont know if I used to be a kind A, but I used to be formidable, she states. Why was I so formidable? I used to be a piano teacher. I dont really know what the ambition was about. I really did come back to the individual Im designed to be.

Correction: June thirteen, 2006, Tuesday An post on Thursday about Kyle Kevorkian McCann, a piano teacher who was overwhelmed and sexually assaulted a decade in the past in Central Park, misstated the title of her album of childrens songs. It can be Even though Were being Young, not When Have been Young.

[swedishroyallove]

Chapter 36

July 30, 2015: Drottningholm Palace:

Lucy and Isak wake up early for a day of engagements. This would be the first time Lucy was going to be introduced to her future duchy of Uppland. They would first be in the town of Uppsala to visit Uppsala University where they would be opening a new library. Uppsala University is the oldest university in Scandinavia. Then, they would head to Stockholm to meet with representatives of the Swedish ALS Foundation. Lastly, they would travel by boat to the small town of Öregrund to meet the people gathered and to tour the wooden houses and stone church. 

Lucy chose a pair of black pants and beige, flared sleeved top to wear with her nude LK Bennet pumps. Afraid of a possibly windy day, she wore her hair in a ponytail with simple pearl earrings and a silver watch. 

As they were being driven to Uppsala, Isak squeezed Lucy’s hand and said, “You will do great. Don’t be nervous.”

“It’s hard not to be. My Swedish is not good enough to be able to converse with the people, and I’m afraid they won’t like that.”

“It’s ok. Most here in Sweden speak English, and they are going to respect you learning their culture and language. Like they say, Rome wasn’t built in a day!”

“I know...,” Lucy says as she stares out the window. 

“Hey,” Isak says sweetly, “We are going to your favorite place in the world - a library. You will be in your element.”

With that she smiled, and soon she was stepping out of the car to a flurry of flashing lights. Isak comes around the car to her side, and they turn to smile at the awaiting media. Then, Lucy walks up to the little girl with bright blue eyes holding a bouquet of purple lilies. She bends down to the little girl who smiles and hands them to her. Lucy smiles back and says, “Tack så mycket. vad heter du?”

“Clara,” the girls says shyly. 

“Well these flowers are beautiful. Thank you for giving them to me.”

The girl’s mother translates to her daughter and then tells Lucy, “She chose purple lilies because she did research into your college sorority. She saw that lilies were the flower of it and one of the colors was purple.”

“Aw that is so sweet!” Lucy says. She bends down again, “Kan jag få en cram?”

The little girl nods and gives Lucy a big hug. Her mother then tells Lucy, “You are too kind to her. And thank you for speaking a bit of Swedish with her. I know you are just learning so it is difficult, but you are doing a great job. I’m sure you’ve had good teachers.”

Lucy smiled and said, “Thank you for the compliment. I have had great people to teach me like the family. Estelle has been wonderful teaching me little sayings! That’s how I learned to ask for a hug!”

Isak then puts his hand on her back to lead her inside, but not before Lucy could wave at the little girl and her mother. 

They greet the administrators inside the new library, and Isak goes to make a speech. 

“God morgon. Tack för att du har Lucy och jag här idag. Jag hoppas att du inte har något emot om jag ger detta tal på engelska eftersom Lucy fortfarande lär sig språket. This is her first event here in Sweden, and I know you all want her to feel comfortable. So, I’ll continue in English. We are both thrilled to be here, and I’m so happy to be able to introduce Lucy to all of Uppland and Sweden.”

The crowd interrupts with applause before he continues, “This library means a lot to my family. Reading is a passion for all of us. Though my father, siblings and I all suffer from dyslexia, we found solace in books after tutors were able to help us deal with our disability. We are pleased that this library will play a central role for those here at Uppsala University and the community, as a whole who are struggling with the disability that plagues so many. We are honored that you have chosen to name it after my beloved grandfather who we, including my father, did not have the ability to know. I’m sure he is looking down and pleased to know how much help this library will provide. Thank you all for coming and naming it after him.”

Lucy and Isak then unveil a plaque for the new Prince Gustaf Adolf Library.

Their next stop was in Stockholm where they met with representatives of the ALS Foundation in Sweden at their headquarters. Lucy took the lead during this engagement and explained why the disease was close to her heart. 

“I want to thank all of you for meeting with us. ALS is a disease with too little funding and research, and as you all know, few know and understand the disease. I was one such person until my mother was diagnosed with the disease earlier this year. I know see first hand what so many others have suffered from for many years. ALS advocacy will be a focal point of my work as your new princess, and I hope that, together, we can truly make a difference to where ALS will be no more.”

The Royal Court had prepared to video her remarks to post them on the monarchy’s website, YouTube and Instagram to explain more about Lucy and the work she would be doing for Sweden. They were posted online within moments of the couple boarding the boat in Stockholm to travel to the small town of Öregrund.

They arrived in Öregrund around an hour later and were greeted by the mayor of the town at the harbor. Many of the residents had gathered at the harbor to see the couple; as a result, they decide to do an impromptu walkabout there before heading to the center of town where they would do another. The crowds loved their down to earth manner and getting to meet their future princess in person. 

After arriving at the center of the town, they proceeded on their second walkabout where a group of teenage girls were squealing to see the handsome prince. Lucy laughed and asked them, “Would you all like a photo with him?” They all shook their heads enthusiastically while Isak looked dumbfounded at the attention. Lucy took one of the cameras and took the photo, and much to her amusement, as she snapped the picture, the two girls on each side of Isak kissed him on the cheek. Isak turned bright red as Lucy said, “I guess I have some competition!”

The couple were then given a private tour of the stone church and wooden houses before they greeted some of the assembled media before returning home. They smiled for photos and answered a few questions thrown their way. One reporter asked Lucy what she thought of her first royal engagement and her future duchy. She smiled and said, “I really enjoyed it. The people here are so friendly and welcoming. I’m so glad to have gotten to meet so many of them and look forward to many more visits and meetings in the future!”

“How do you think she did today, Your Royal Highness?”

Isak responded, “Very well. I’m very proud of her, and it was great to see how loved she already is by the people.”

Another asked Lucy, “Were you nervous at all?”

“Oh, of course. I was quite nervous at the beginning but having Isak with me really calmed my nerves, as did the wonderful people I met today.”

“We heard you speaking some Swedish earlier today, how is learning the language?”

“I did speak a bit this morning to the young girl who was sweet enough to bring me flowers. Learning a new language is a process, but I am working on it every day. It’s difficult, but I am determined.”

Isak interrupted, “She is doing a wonderful job and is more advanced than she believes. She just has to be more confident speaking it, and that will come.”

They were then asked how the wedding planning was going to which Isak responded, “Rather well I’d say.”

“You gave a heartwarming and touching speech at the ALS headquarters today, Lucy. First of all, we are all so very sorry to hear of your mother having the disease, and it is brave of you to speak out so openly. Are we to assume that will be one of your first patronages?” another asked.

“Thank you, and yes, that is my plan. ALS advocacy is a passion of mine, and I will work tirelessly for awareness and raising funds for research.”

Isak then thanked the media for their questions, and they headed back to their car to Drottningholm Palace. Lucy only had a couple more days in the country before she was going to return home for a while to help care for her mother. 

_______________________________________________________________________

September 5, 2015: Neyland Stadium:

Lucy and her parents arrived to their parking location and were happy to have a handicapped parking tag to park closer to the bus to get them to the stadium. Significant walking was beginning to really take a toll on Ann. They waited at the bus stop and were driven to the stadium across campus. They walked up a less steep ramp to their seats in JJ. They had to stop several times to allow Ann to breathe. When they were to JJ, Thomas walked down the stairs ahead of Ann while Lucy walked behind her to get to Row 3. They enjoyed the game, but it took a lot out of Ann to get back up the stairs and hill to the bus. 

The next week was a bit harder, and they realized that Ann could no longer walk up the two ramps to their seats. After a heartbreaking loss to Oklahoma at home, the family decided they would have to make a change. Ann would only relent to accepting the elevator ride; she was determined to walk the rest of the way. She did not want the disease to slow her down or defeat her. The next week, after a note from the doctor sent to the athletic department, a elevator pass was given for Ann. Ann and Thomas rode the elevator up to the upper level and, thanks to Thomas knowing an usher, were escorted through the press box to make the walk shorter to their seat. Lucy did not want to take up room in the elevator for someone else who needed it, so she walked the ramp and waited on her parents at their section. 

September 26, 2015: Washington D.C.:

Will had flown his family up for the pre-season game on Sunday against the Indianapolis Colts, and they were staying in his townhouse for the weekend. They were able to watch the Tennessee game against Florida on television. It took place in Florida, and the Vols almost had it won. It was the team Ann wanted to see the Vols beat so badly. She kept telling her children and husband that she just wanted to see the Gators get beat by the Vols. For her, that was winning the championship. The kicker made a valiant effort to kick a 52 yard field goal but was wide right. Ann was crushed, and Lucy more so. 

While Thomas, Will and Ann went out to dinner, Lucy stayed at the apartment. She locked herself in her room and bawled her eyes out. She was angry and crushed for her mother. She was angry at God for letting her mother be in pain and see that loss. She turned her phone off and drank a bottle of wine. She finally fell asleep before her parents returned, worried that she did not pick up her phone. She then felt guilty for putting them through stress due to her breakdown.

Luckily, the next day, the family had prime parking beside the stadium with an elevator pass and sat in Will’s family box. They all enjoyed the game as the Redskins beat the Colts 35-20. They returned home just a couple of days later.

October 10, 2015:

Lucy’s sorority sisters came in for the game against Georgia and stayed at their home in Wheat. Her friends offered to stay somewhere else so not to impose knowing Ann’s condition. However, Ann and Thomas were insistent. Ann wanted the girls there, and their trip to Wheat made her weekend. She tried her best to dote on them while they were there. Her strength and determination to not let the disease slow her down was inspirational to them all. 

The girls went to Neyland Stadium to watch the Vols play the Dawgs. It was a nerve-wracking game, and by the fourth quarter, Lucy was about sick to her stomach. The Vols had mounted a comeback, and there were just a few seconds left on the clock. Georgia had to pull a Hail Mary and throw to the end zone if they wanted to win. The quarterback received the snap and dropped back to pass. He threw a perfect spiral to the right corner of the end zone where the Tennessee cornerback batted it down. The Vols had won over one of their biggest rivals, and Lucy was in tears because she was so happy. They had beaten the Dawgs for the first time in five years.

When they got home, she ran in the house to her mother. She have Ann a big hug and said, “Oh Momma! They won that just for you!!!” 

Ann was crying tears of joy, too. 

_______________________________________________________________________

November 14, 2015:

Lucy woke up at 4am and was driven to Tennessee’s campus for morning practice. She was getting the chance to twirl once again, but this time with the alumni band during the pregame parade and halftime. 

Thomas’s niece knew someone who was able to get Ann and him two tickets in the handicapped section of Neyland. Ann had been unable to make a game since Western Carolina when she used the elevator. Ann was thrilled to be able to go to another game, this time in a wheelchair, to see her daughter twirl on the field once more. 

When Lucy stepped onto the field, she turned to see her mother smiling brightly at her from the wheelchair section. She said a silent prayer to God to allow her to twirl the best and be as perfect as could be for her mom. She knew this was possibly the last time she would see her twirl. 

After performing perfectly with the other alumni majorettes, she turned to see her mother. She had tears in her eyes just looking at how happy her mother looked while looking at her. It was all she could do not to go into hysterics on the field. She thanked God for the performance and her mother being there. 

November 26, 2015: Thanksgiving Day:

Isak decided to fly over to the States to celebrate Thanksgiving with Lucy’s family. He arrived on Tuesday ahead of the holiday on Thursday. That morning, they woke up to watch the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. Ann’s family had told her not to bring anything, but she, again, was determined. She made her traditional pecan pies the evening before, and Lucy made the sweet tea, mashed potatoes and deviled eggs the next morning before traveling to her uncle’s house to celebrate the holiday. 

It was a sombre type holiday because Ann was no longer the Ann they all remembered. She could not talk and was getting strangled with almost every bite she took. She was losing a lot of weight and eating little. Lucy was glad Isak was there to comfort her as she watched her mother struggle. As they left her uncle’s house, everyone made sure to give Ann a hug. 

No one knew at the time that Ann had made a decision that would change everything. She was going to get a feeding tube. 

[husid]

Wednesday Morning Punter - Super Bowl LIII Edition

How have you been the last eight years?

I, like most blog writers am just fine and not at all wallowing in existential doom questioning my own self-worth. But this isn’t about me, this is about you, the beloved readers. So back by the popular demand of no fewer than two people, is a special pre-Super Bowl edition of Wednesday Morning Punter!

Just in time for the final game of the NFL season before real football gets started, today’s issue will tackle a Super Bowl LIII preview, the all important Legacy Stakes, missing prop bets, the unenviable existence of a Patriots atheist living in Boston, and some NFL hodgepodge.

So without further ado, Let’s Punt!

What to Expect When You’re Projecting

What I can guarantee about tonight is that there will be nearly universal disappointment regarding the Super Bowl commercials, Maroon 5 will bring out a halftime show guest singer that will appeal to neither millennials nor baby boomers, and Twitter will have a much needed night focused on something other than Donald Trump, Howard Schultz or AOC.

What I cannot guarantee is just about everything else, starting with the winner of the game. Anecdotal research leads me to believe that most of the experts are picking the Patriots, which is incredible for a team that No One Believes In (more on that later), but it’s by no means a slam-dunk. We know that both teams deserve to be here (Saints fans may disagree, but one call aside, it’s impossible to conclude that both teams aren’t at the very least among the top two teams in their respective conferences). The Pats quickly worked out of an early 1-2 hole to reel off six straight wins and finish at a respectable if somewhat human 11-5, good enough for the AFC’s two-seed. The Rams were even more dominant, busting out of the gate with eight straight wins en route to a 13-3 record and the NFC’s two-seed. Both won their divisional playoff game relatively convincingly before squeezing out dramatic overtime victories in their conference championship games, thanks primarily to resilient offensive play. The two teams didn’t play other this year, but did have five common opponents, including the entire NFC North, and the Chiefs. I don’t put much stock into common opponents as a means of assessing a head-to-head advantage – both because strengths and weaknesses versus one opponent aren’t necessarily transitive, and because the highs and lows every team experiences in a season mean that an opponent one week does not equate to that same opponent on a different week – but for those of you who do, both the Rams and Pats beat the Chiefs in tight regular season games (and the Pats again two weeks ago), and each went 3-1 against NFC North opponents, with the Patriots losing a demoralizing week 3 matchup in Detroit, and the Rams falling in week 14 to Chicago in a defensive showdown.

Frankly, the Patriots are easy to predict. They’re going to show up with a solid game plan, Brady is going to be accurate and minimize mistakes, and the defense will play bend-but-don’t break defense to keep the Pats within striking distance at any point in the game.

The Rams, on the other hand, are a bit more of a wild card, despite being the more consistent team during the regular season. LA only has one offensive star (Todd Gurley), yet finished the year in the top-2 in total scoring and yards per game, and the top-5 in both rushing and passing. But Gurley disappeared two weeks ago (literally and figuratively), starting quarterback Jared Goff is still pretty green, and the Rams D is very much a middle-of-the-road unit.

So what will ultimately decide whether the scrappy Patriots will finally be able to celebrate in Foxborough, or LA pretends like it actually cares about pro football for at least an offseason? My best guess:

• The Gronking of Over-the-Hill House: No one’s worried about his post-game performance tonight at the Gold Club (I know it’s gone, but my knowledge of Georgia strip clubs begins and ends with that fabled establishment), but my confidence in his elite on-field level is not what it once was. Despite his ability to still make a big play, Gronkowski generally looks like a shell of his former self, and my money’s on Sunday being the last day he plays an NFL game. Of course when he’s playing to his ability, he’s one of the most unguardable players in football.

• Aaron Donald Has A Show: Donald was undoubtedly the best defensive player in the NFL this year (an NFL positional record 20.5 sacks for a defensive tackle), but oddly he’s still not quite a household name (the NFL’s refusal to market any defensive player other than JJ Watt could comprise a whole other post).  Fighting through double-teams and keeping Brady on his heels could be the key difference in whether TB12 is able to pick apart the Rams secondary, or is too uncomfortable to get into a consistent rhythm. There’s a good chance the whole country knows his name after tonight.

• From Dusk Till Sean: I can’t remember ever seeing a Sean this hot, and I live less than a mile from Southie. But lost in last week’s questionable victory was the fact that Rams coach Sean McVay was a missed pass interference call away from dealing with an entire offseason full of questions about his game plan. Since we still haven’t heard any indication that Todd Gurley was injured, his benching for most of the NFC Championship game is baffling. Giving your (and arguably the league’s) best player five total touches with a Super Bowl appearance on the line simply doesn’t add up – particularly since Gurley’s backup, CJ Anderson, was no more effective with his 17 touches – and a similar utilization of Gurley on Sunday will make Bill Belichick’s job a lot easier. If the rushing attack remains stymied, will McVay have Goff ready to shoulder the load? McVay is like that cool, mysterious guy who transfers to your high school for sophomore year but no one knows much about him. He might be the man, he might just be a boring introvert, but his parents are gone next weekend and he’s about to throw the first party at his place. Will he have enough booze? Will he invite those weirdos he went to school with last year? Will he freak out when the first Bud Ice (is that still a thing?) spills on the carpet? Will he trust his buddies enough to take care of things while he shows his crush where he practices his guitar? The spotlight is finally on. Be cool, Sean McVay, because high school kids can turn on you fast.

• Master of Run: It’s no secret that Gurley’s production had tailed off a bit, even before last week’s unjustified benching. Gurley has now eclipsed 100 yards rushing just once in his last four games. Maybe last game’s light load was a gift, Todd, but if he starts the Super Bowl rushing like he has since late December, will Gurley be able to do enough through the air to make an impact? Given his overall season, it’s pretty shocking that this is even a reasonable question.

• A Series of Gameplanned Events: Beginning with his plan to take Marshall Faulk out of Super Bowl XXXVI, Belichick has earned his reputation as a master tactician, which shone through in the Patriots next two Super Bowls (both victories). His track record since then has only further solidified his status as the best coach in NFL history, reaching six more Super Bowls and failing to make the playoffs just once since 2002, when Brady was shelved for the season (and Matt Cassel still led New England to an 11-5 record). But he’s just 2-3 in subsequent Super Bowls, and in each of the three losses he was squarely outcoached in at least one major facet of the game: His failure to account for the Giants ferocious pass rush rattled Brady all game in Super Bowl XLII and forced him to play dink-and-dunk football in Super Bowl XLVI, which neutralized his big-play ability. In last year’s Super Bowl, Belichick’s defense couldn’t find an answer for journeyman Nick Foles, and his thoroughly mediocre receiving corps. We’ll never know if BB’s head-scratching decision to bench struggling but proven starting cornerback Malcolm Butler (a legitimate explanation for which we still haven’t received) would have been the difference in the game, but it’s nearly impossible to conclude that Butler would have made the Patriots secondary worse on that day. So the question remains, will Belichick have an effective plan in place to mask his team’s weaknesses (the secondary) and accentuate its strengths (steady rushing attack, relentless short passing game), or will he fall victim to an unforeseen Rams wrinkle, or worse, his own ego?

• Santa Clarita Quiet: When Jeff Fisher went to Jared with the first overall pick in the 2016 draft, there were more than a few skeptics, all of whom seemed vindicated by Goff’s rookie campaign. Since McVay took over as Rams head coach in 2017, however, Goff has been nothing short of a top-tier quarterback, culminating in a 2018 in which he finished with a 101.1 passer rating (8th among qualified QBs), 4,688 passing yard (4th), 8.4 yards per attempt (4th), and 32 touchdowns (6th, though it should be noted that of the quarterbacks with more TDs, none had a top-tier RB for the entire season). But the fact remains that despite how great a season the Rams have had, the media attention thrust on pro football players in Los Angeles has landed somewhere between “Sugarfish No Longer Finds Bluefin Tuna to be Ethically Sourced” and “Ponytailed, Meisner-Reading Papyrus Employee Doesn’t Actually Have Passion for Stationary,” allowing Goff, who has never lived outside of California, to live a relatively pressure-free life. Since the playoffs started, Goff’s numbers have gone down a bit, as can be expected against better competition, and that on the surface isn’t alarming. But he’s about to play the biggest game of his life on the biggest stage in American sports, after two weeks of the most intense media scrutiny he’s ever experienced. Some quarterbacks wilt under that pressure, some excel, and others are simply unaffected (see: Manning, Eli).  We’ll see which bucket Goff falls into.

My Pick: Rams 29 Patriots 27 Confidence level: 2 In the Brady/Belichick era, each of their eight Super Bowl matchups has ended in a one-score game, and most of them have looked a lot more lopsided on paper before kickoff than this one. I picked the Patriots to beat the Eagles last year, refusing to believe that Belichick could lose to someone like Nick Foles in a Super Bowl. But ultimately players play the games and I don’t see a clear improvement in the Patriots defense from the one that gave up 41 points to the Eagles last year. Now they’re playing a much better offense and likely a better quarterback than Foles,  so much like the Chiefs game, the Patriots defense will have their hands full.

On the other side of the ball, the Patriots have Tom Brady, so any argument for why the Pats will win could justifiably end there. His receiving corps, while far from elite, seems to be gelling at the perfect time, and could not have been more clutch than they were against the Chiefs. The Rams defense on the whole won’t strike fear into Pats offensive coordinator Josh McDaniel’s heart, but Aaron Donald will be the toughest individual force he (or anyone in the league) will have to game plan for all season. I think Donald and Ndamukong Suh will be able to minimize rushing success for the Patriots, and will get just enough pressure to force Brady to get the ball out quickly and allow the Rams’ back seven to sit on the short outs and crossing routes that have allowed the Patriots to move the chains all season long.

But ultimately, in a one-score game – which I’m betting this will be – one play can make all the difference, and all the pre-game analysis is worthless. I don’t expect a true shootout, but I do see an offensive battle that ends with the Rams defense getting that one crucial stop down the stretch that the Chiefs failed to get two weeks ago. That said, your guess is as good as mine.

Other Super Bowl Notes and Tidbits

• The Defenders: The Patriots finished seventh in the league in scoring defense, but much of that has to be attributed to the dreadful offenses of the rest of the AFC East. In their six games against the Dolphins, Bills and Jets, the Pats D allowed 6, 7, 13, 33, 12 and 3 points. In four games against top-10 scoring offenses on the other hand, the Patriots gave up 24, 40, 31 and 17 points, to the Colts, Chiefs, Bears and Steelers, plus another 31 to the Chiefs two weeks ago. You’d think this would be a bad omen for New England as it prepares to stop the league’s second-most prolific offense, but despite the gaudy numbers allowed to elite offenses, the Patriots are 4-1 in those games. Essentially, while we can be confident the Rams will put up points, the type of game that would dictate that flow wouldn’t necessarily put the Patriots at a disadvantage.

• Oldzark: “Experience” is always talked about as a factor in determining who wins a big game, but I’m not sure that has a ton of merit, given that players have to be able to win big games to even get to the Super Bowl. Looking at the last ten Super Bowls, eight featured quarterback matchups in which only one starting QB had started a Super Bowl previously. In those matchups, the team with the Super Bowl-experienced quarterback is 4-4. Looking beyond the quarterback, teams that had been to the Super Bowl in the previous five years (an objective number, but one that’s likely to incorporate the team having an experienced, returning corps) are 3-3 when playing teams that had not been to the Super Bowl in that same span. Draw your own conclusions.

• The Vinatieri Method: Both teams should feel very comfortable with their kicking situation going into Sunday. Stephen Gostkowski has established himself as one of the most reliable field goal kickers of his generation, while Greg Zuerlein just KICKED A 57-YARD FIELD GOAL IN OVERTIME TO SEND HIS TEAM TO THE SUPER BOWL. Zuerlein was unfairly robbed of national glory, due to a brutal combination of the refs overshadowing the Rams win, and Joe Buck, as he’s wont to do, delivering the call of an incredible feat in an incredible situation as if he was narrating his wife picking up her first alimony payment before leaving the house for good. “Meredith will attempt to steal my money along with my soul… she has the check, she’s getting into the Tesla of Miles, a 30-something brand ambassador… AND SHE’S GONE! We’ll see you later tonight at the country club gala so as to keep up the appearance that we’re amicable divorcees!” Zuerlein actually sprained his foot at halftime of that game, which is something to be aware of, but given how he kicked in the second half and overtime, it’s not something I’d be too concerned about.

• Big Mouth: I could not be less interested in Media Day or any of the PR shenanigans that go on between the conference championships and the Super Bowl. I get why the NFL does it, and I’m sure journalists appreciate that they get something to write about beyond another position-by-position breakdown, but wake me up when it’s time to clock the national anthem length. That said, it’s worth taking note of all the players who basked in the glow of the media attention, because a good chunk of them will inevitably blame the media for stirring controversy down the road. Like it or not, the media has as much to do with sports being as popular as they are (and player contracts being as big as they are) than the players themselves. If you’re going to use it to your advantage when things are going well, you can’t bitch about the negative coverage when the good times stop rolling.

• Lost in Grace: Living in Boston and not being a Patriots fan sucks. Not because they always win, or because the Celtics and Bruins can be in the midst of playoff runs and the Boston sports media’s top story will still be which flavor Coolatta Gronk is going to be drinking in his upcoming Dunkin’ commercial, but because of all the faux-narratives that the team puts forth and the fans eat up. There was the “Patriot Way” which preached loyalty and selflessness, just to see Belichick ship off beloved stars and community staples like Lawyer Milloy, Richard Seymour and Chandler Jones (side note: I’m not saying these moves didn’t work out or were uncouth, just pointing out the disingenuousness of pretending to view your players as anything other than football players). There was the myth of only valuing team-first players, then signing guys like Corey Dillon, Randy Moss, Aaron Hernandez, Albert Haynesworth, Chad Johnson/Ochocinco, Brandon Meriwether and Josh Gordon. There’s still the idea that the team should never give the media any controversy fuel, while Belichick writes a letter of support to Donald Trump (that he had to know was going to be made public) and Brady displays a MAGA hat in his locker.

And now we’ve reached a new one, and possibly the most infuriating one. I understand that every team, at one point or another uses “no one believed in us” as a rallying cry or source of motivation, and sometimes its true and sometimes its not. But Xerxes and the Persian Empire had a more viable claim to the “no one believed in us” mentality after Thermopylae (read a book) than the Patriots do now. Brady and Belichick have presided over two separate dynasties in consecutive decades (for what it’s worth, I don’t think a team can go ten years between titles and still be considered a single dynasty) and are about as far from being an underdog year-to-year as any team since the 1960s Celtics. My problems with this whole charade are two-fold. First, it’s flat out wrong. Until this year’s AFC Championship game, the Patriots with Brady starting had not been underdogs IN 69 CONSECUTIVE GAMES. The chart below (courtesy of footballperspective.com) reveals as much, with the blue dots indicating regular season games, the red dots indicating playoff games, and the empty dots showing the four games Brady was suspended for to start the 2016 season. 

So not only is the narrative flat-out silly on the surface, it’s based on no evidence whatsoever. Yes, there are a lot of people who like to root against the Patriots, and there are some corny studio analysts looking for attention who will make exaggerated but transparent claims like “the Patriots era is over,” but not a single one of them is surprised that the Pats will be taking the field in Atlanta tonight.

The second part of this argument that really grinds my gears is that among the actual Patriots doubters, the vast majority live in New England. Listening to Boston sports radio all season, you’d think the Pats were flirting with a .500 record, and wondering whether they should just start tanking to move up in the draft. Sports bars around the region were filled with people lamenting Brady’s fall from best quarterback in football to merely top-5, wondering if the defense could stop a good offense in the playoffs, and pondering whether Matt Patricia was really the brains behind the whole operation (that last one is an exaggeration, but only slightly). So in essence, Patriots fans are projecting their team insecurity onto fans of the rest of the league –none of whom actually doubt the Patriots’ ability to win each game– and then criticizing the straw men they’ve created while they themselves doubt their team privately under the cover of a New England winter. It’s madness.

Listen, I get it. Winning is awesome, and it gets less awesome when that’s all that’s expected of you. No one roots for the house at a casino, no one is pulling for the shark in Jaws, and no one outside New England wants the Patriots to win, because they always win. So if you have to convince yourself that you’re not going to win because that makes it more fun when you inevitably do, go for it. But leave the rest of us out of it. Because even when we don’t think you’ll win, we still kind of do think you’ll win. That’s should be a badge of honor, not a knock.

Legacy Stakes

I usually like to do a section about what’s at stake for each team and its players from a legacy perspective. Sadly, this combination of teams doesn’t give me much to write about. The Pats can tie the Steelers for the most Super Bowl wins of all time (six), but Brady and Belichick are already the best quarterback and coach of all time, respectively, so another Super Bowl win pads their stats, as it were, but won’t do much in terms of validation. Sure, if they fall to 5-4 all-time in Super Bowls, it will give a little extra fodder for the people who say they’d rather be 4-0 in Super Bowls  (a la Joe Montana) than 5-4, but those people are woefully misguided anyway, so it’s hardly worth debate.

On the other side you have a team full of young stars, including its coach. Obviously winning a Super Bowl is a form of career validation regardless of when you win it, but no one on the Rams is even close to “can’t win the big one” territory, so the feel-good storyline of the wily old veteran finally winning a ring that we’ve had in years past (Charles Woodson with the Packers, Anquan Boldin with the Ravens, Demarcus Ware with the Broncos, etc.) is noticeably absent this year. The lone obvious exception is Ndamukong Suh, but he’s kind of an asshole, so I don’t think people are rooting hard for that story.

The Prop Bets That Weren’t

For those without a true dog in the fight, the best thing about the Super Bowl, aside from the food (bar food is the best food, don’t @ me), is the betting. Much like Adam Silver and ESPN, the general Super Bowl-watching populace has embraced casual betting more in recent years, leading once-cheeky prop bets like which Gatorade color will be poured on the winning coach or how long the national anthem will last to almost be considered passé.

Sadly, the creativity on prop bets has waned, forcing me to take matters into my own hands.  Place your bets before 6:00 EST (Just kidding…)

Ndamukong Suh Personal Foul Penalties Called (includes declined penalties) O/U .5

Tom Brady Berates An Official After Getting Knocked Over O/U 4.5

Tony Romo Accurately Predicts A Play Call Pre-Snap O/U 8.5

Age of the First Guest Singer to Join Maroon 5 O/U 38.5

Times I Consider Subscribing to the WWE Network During Halftime So I Can Watch Halftime Heat Instead of Maroon 5 O/U 5.5

Shots of Rams Fans Wearing Sunglasses Indoors O/U 326.5

Decibels Jim Nantz’ voice drops during the first CBS promo for the Masters O/U 46.5

References to Sean McVay’s Paid “Hold Me Back” Guy O/U 1.5

Commercials With Thinly Veiled Criticisms of Trump’s Immigration Policies O/U 2.5

Commercials For Movies Starring Dwayne Johnson O/U 3.5

Jim Nantz Refers to Romo as “Partner” O/U 5.5

Rams Fans at LA’s Super Bowl Parade (if applicable) O/U 13.5

Welp, that’s all I got for you today, folks. Next week we’ll have recap of the Super Bowl and its inevitable fallout, some non-football sports thoughts, and a little  TV/Oscars talk. Until then, thanks for reading, and keep punting!

[celebritylive]

Miley Cyrus is channeling her emotions into music.

Nearly two weeks after ending her relationship with Kaitlynn Carter, Cyrus, 26, revealed on her Instagram Stories and Twitter that she had returned to the studio to create new music — and was feeling particularly creative and motivated while doing so.

Alongside the photo of herself inside the studio, the “Slide Away” singer wrote, “Back in the yo! I am so f— inspired right now” and added two butterflies and ocean waves emojis.

Underneath the selfie, Cyrus also appreciatively wrote, “Thank YOU NEW MOON” with a blue heart emoji.

In a second post on her Instagram Stories, the star shared a mirror selfie, where she showed off her white T-shirt, bell-bottom jeans, boots and high ponytail. “Studio ,” she captioned the shot.

RELATED: A Timeline of Miley Cyrus & Kaitlynn Carter’s Whirlwind Romance

The singer’s return to the studio comes three days after she said she was continuing to “love without conditions” following her split with Carter, 31.

In a post on her Instagram Stories featuring a photo of herself lying in bed beside her two “stinky dogs” Sunday, Cyrus displayed her love and appreciation for her beloved pets.

“Waking up surrounded by animals is my favorite way to start a morning,” Cyrus captioned the image. “I am immediately reminded to LOVE without conditions…. the best part about animals is that they are careless about the details. They live by the golden rule…. Love & Be Loved. Nothing in between.”

She continued, “No questions regarding wealth, career, talents, race, age, sex…They love back 1000X… all they ask is to be cared for in exchange for loyalty, reliability, and faithfulness (reminds me of someone).”

On Sept. 21, PEOPLE exclusively learned that Cyrus had ended her relationship with Carter.

The two had been spending quality time together after they announced their splits from their respective husbands, and a source previously told PEOPLE that they lived together in Los Angeles.

A month prior to Cyrus’ split from Carter, a rep for the singer confirmed exclusively to PEOPLE that she and Hemsworth, 29, had separated after seven months of marriage.

Hemsworth filed for divorce weeks later, citing irreconcilable differences. (Carter, meanwhile, announced her split from Brody Jenner in August after a year of marriage, although they never legally wed.)

RELATED: Miley Cyrus Is Back in the Recording Studio After Announcing Split from Husband Liam Hemsworth

Following her split from Hemsworth, Cyrus released a new song in August titled “Slide Away”, in which she seemingly opens up about their relationship and how it changed over the years.

Ahead of the song’s release, Cyrus teased a new track by sharing a selfie from a recording studio that showed her wearing headphones and posing in front of a microphone.

Staying coy, the singer chose to post the image without a caption.

RELATED: Miley Cyrus Says ‘Goodbyes Are Never Easy’ in Cheeky Bikini Snaps After Kaitlynn Carter Split

Earlier last week, a source told PEOPLE that Cyrus “is looking forward to being single.”

“Miley split from Liam to focus on herself. Her relationship with Kaitlynn was a happy surprise,” the source said. “However, Miley was so invested in her relationship with Liam for a long time. She felt her relationship with Kaitlynn was almost moving in that direction, too.”

Although Cyrus’ romantic relationship with Carter has come to an end, the pair are still on good terms.

“They’ve been friends forever and were there for each other when they were both getting separated,” an insider said, “but they’re just not in a romantic relationship anymore.”

from PEOPLE.com https://ift.tt/2oDWYaH

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The Top Reasons People Succeed in the best beginner keyboard Industry

Correction Appended

On an album of bittersweet childrens tracks that she wrote over ten years in the past, the girl who arrived to become recognised only since the piano Trainer presented what, in hindsight, seems like an eerie glimpse of her own long run.

Im transferring away currently to a spot so far away, wherever no one is aware my name, she wrote inside the lyrics of the track known as Relocating.

When she wrote that music, she was young and vivacious, a piano Trainer and freelance songs writer who loved Beethoven and jazz, sunsets and river Seems, long walks and every little thing about The big apple.

On a kind of beloved walks, by means of Central Park in the bright Sunlight of a June day in 1996, a homeless drifter conquer her and made an effort to rape her, leaving her clinging to daily life. Once the attack, the words to her track arrived true. She moved absent, out of Ny city, out of her old daily life, and all but her closest buddies did not know her identify. To the rest of the planet, she was -- like the much more famed jogger attacked in Central Park 7 many years before -- an nameless symbol of an city nightmare. She was the piano Instructor.

Now, on the tenth anniversary from the assault, she is celebrating what is apparently her entire recovery from Mind trauma. She's 42, married, with a small baby. She is Kyle Kevorkian McCann, the piano Instructor, and she or he desires to convey to her Tale, her way.

Her doctor informed her it would acquire 10 years to Get well, and Sunday was that talismanic anniversary. I experience my lifetime is redefined by Central Park, she stated several days in the past, her voice comfortable and hopeful. Before park; just after park. Will there ever certainly be a time when I dont Consider, Oh, This is actually the tenth anniversary, the 11th anniversary?

She spoke in her modest ranch home inside of a wooded subdivision in a Big apple suburb. She sat inside a eating place strewn with toys, surrounded by images of her cherubic, darkish-haired 2-12 months-outdated daughter. A Steinway grand filled 50 % the home, and at 1 stage she sat down and played. Her taking part in was forceful, but she seemed embarrassed to Engage in more than a few bars, and shrugged, as an alternative to answering, when requested the title of the piece. She asked that her daughter and her town not be named.

She phone calls that day, June 4, 1996, the day After i was damage.

Hers was the 1st inside of a string of assaults by the exact same person on 4 Girls in excess of 8 times. The last sufferer, Evelyn Alvarez, 65, was crushed to Demise as she opened her Park Avenue dry-cleaning shop, and ultimately, the assailant, John J. Royster, was convicted of murder and sentenced to lifetime in prison.

Still the assault within the piano teacher could be the just one men and women appear to be to keep in mind quite possibly the most. Portion of the fascination needs to do with echoes from the 1989 assault on the Central Park jogger. But Additionally, it frightened persons in a means the attack around the jogger didn't because its situations were being so mundane.

It didn't happen in a remote Portion of the park late during the night time, but in the vicinity of a well known playground at 3 while in the afternoon. It could have occurred to any individual. The tension was heightened by the mystery from the piano academics id.

For three days, as law enforcement and Health professionals tried to determine who she was, she lay in the coma in her clinic bed, nameless. Her mother and father ended up on getaway and her boyfriend, also a musician, was in Europe, on tour. Lastly, one among her pupils recognized a law enforcement sketch and was able to determine her from the healthcare facility by her fingers, because her deal with was swollen outside of recognition. The law enforcement didn't launch her title.

The last thing she remembers about June 4, 1996, is giving a lesson in her studio condominium on West 57th Street, then putting her prolonged hair in a very ponytail and likely out for just a wander. She won't don't forget the assault, Despite the fact that she has heard the accounts with the law enforcement and prosecutors.

To me its like a fact I uncovered and memorized, she reported. As though I were a college student in school studying history.

She would not think about the man who did it. I might need been offended for your instant, but not for much longer than that, she said. How could I be indignant at John Royster? He was declared not crazy, but I assume by our benchmarks he was.

Dr. Jamshid Ghajar, her physician at Big apple Hospital-Cornell Health care Center, as it was acknowledged in 1996, instructed reporters that she experienced a 10 per cent potential for survival. Medical practitioners had to remove her forehead bone, which was afterwards replaced, to make space for her swelling brain. When her mom designed a community attract pray for my daughter, hundreds did.

Immediately after eight days, she arrived away from a coma, first in a vegetative state, then in the childlike point out. As she recovered, she slept tiny and talked frequently, sometimes in gibberish. I was having mad at men and women once they didnt respond to these words, she said.

Like an Alzheimers affected person, she experienced tiny short-expression memory and would forget site visitors when they still left the room.

Above a number of months, she had to relearn the way to walk, dress, go through and write. Her boyfriend, Tony Scherr, visited each day to Enjoy guitar for her. He inspired her to Perform the piano, in opposition to the recommendation of her Actual physical therapists, who thought she could well be annoyed by her incapacity to Engage in the best way she after experienced. Mr. Scherr performed Beatles duets along with her, enjoying the left-hand part when she performed the correct.

Which was my ideal therapy, she mentioned.

In August, she moved back property to New Jersey, together with her father, an engineer, and mom, a schoolteacher. She frequented old haunts and called buddies, hoping to restore her shattered memory. I had been really obsessive about remembering, she mentioned. Any memory reduction was to me a sign of abnormality or deficit.

Her therapists imagined her progress was wonderful, but her two sisters protested that she was not the deep thinker she had been.

What bothered her most was that she experienced misplaced a chance to cry, as though a faucet within her brain had been turned off. A single evening, nine months just after she was damage, she stayed up late to watch the John Grisham Motion picture A Time for you to Eliminate. Just following her father had absent to bed, she watched a courtroom scene of Samuel Jacksons character on demo for killing two Guys who experienced raped his younger daughter.

The faucet opened, along with the tears trickled down her cheeks. I thought of my mother and father, my father, and the things they went through, she reported. Minimal by little, my sensation returned, my depth of thoughts returned.

Urged by her sisters, she went back to high school and acquired a masters degree in new music education.

Not anything went well. She and Mr. Scherr split up 5 years once the assault, however they remain pals. She dated other Males, but she always explained to them about the assault right away -- she couldn't assistance it, she claimed -- they usually in no way identified as for your 2nd date.

We have to search out you another person, her Pal David Phelps, a guitar player, reported 4 decades back, just before introducing her to Liam McCann, a computer technician and beginner drummer. For as soon as, she did not say nearly anything with regards to the attack right until she got to grasp Mr. McCann, after which you can when she did, he admired her toughness.

Mayor Rudolph W. Giuliani, who had typically visited her at her bedside whilst she was while in the medical center, married them in his Moments Square Workplace. She wore a blue dress and pearls. Even though she was Expecting, in a very burst of creativity, she and her friends recorded When Were Younger, an album of childrens tracks that she experienced created before the assault, including the tune Transferring. Her ex-boyfriend, Mr. Scherr, generated the CD. On it, her husband plays drums and he or she performs electrical piano.

Is her lifetime as it had been? Not exactly, however she is reluctant to attribute the discrepancies to her injuries. Her last two piano students left her, without calling to explain why, she stated. She has resumed enjoying classical new music, but basic parts, due to the fact her daughter isn't going to give her time for you to exercise. As for jazz, I dont even test, she mentioned.

She would like to push a lot more, emotion stranded while in the suburbs, but she is definitely rattled. She tries to be articles with keeping dwelling and caring for her daughter.

Dr. Ghajar, a medical professor of neurological operation at what exactly is now termed NewYork-Presbyterian Healthcare facility/Weill Cornell Health care Center, who operated on Ms. Kevorkian McCann following the assault, said previous week that her amount of recovery was uncommon. Shes essentially typical, he mentioned.

Other experts, who will be not personally aware of Ms. Kevorkian McCanns situation, are more cautious.

Regaining the opportunity to Perform the piano could entail an Practically mechanical process, a semiautomatic remember of just what the fingers need to do, claimed Dr. Yehuda Ben-Yishay, a professor of scientific rehabilitation medication at Big apple University School of Medication. At the time Mind-hurt, that you are generally brain-injured, For the remainder of your lifetime, Dr. Ben-Yishay said. There is absolutely no treatment, There exists only intense payment.

The more telling part of a Restoration, in his check out, is psychological, and on that score he counts Ms. Kevorkian McCanns relationship and baby as a substantial victory.

For her section, the piano Trainer is aware of she has altered, but she has designed her peace with it. I used to be type of a hyper ---- I dont know if I used to be a kind A, but I was formidable, she states. Why was I so bold? I used to be a piano Instructor. I dont really know what the ambition was about. I really did come back to the individual Im supposed to be.

Correction: June thirteen, 2006, Tuesday An write-up on Thursday about Kyle Kevorkian McCann, a piano teacher who was beaten and sexually assaulted ten years back in Central Park, misstated the title of her album of childrens tunes. It really is Whilst Ended up Youthful, not When Have been Young.

[homestuckcanonconfirmer]

15 Up-and-Coming best keyboard for beginners

Correction Appended

On an album of bittersweet childrens tracks that she wrote over ten years ago, the lady who arrived to get acknowledged only because the piano teacher offered what, in hindsight, looks as if an eerie glimpse of her possess upcoming.

Im transferring absent now to a location so distant, exactly where nobody is familiar with my identify, she wrote from the lyrics of a music named Shifting.

When she wrote that music, she was young and vivacious, a piano Trainer and freelance music writer who liked Beethoven and jazz, sunsets and river Appears, lengthy walks and every thing about Big apple.

On one of those beloved walks, via Central Park in the intense Solar of a June day in 1996, a homeless drifter defeat her and attempted to rape her, leaving her clinging to lifetime. Once the attack, the text to her song came real. She moved absent, from Ny city, away from her aged everyday living, and all but her closest good friends didn't know her name. To the remainder of the world, she was -- just like the extra well known jogger attacked in Central Park 7 decades previously -- an nameless symbol of the urban nightmare. She was the piano Trainer.

Now, within the 10th anniversary on the attack, she is celebrating what seems to be her whole recovery from Mind trauma. She is 42, married, with a little kid. She's Kyle Kevorkian McCann, the piano Trainer, and he or she wishes to convey to her Tale, her way.

Her medical doctor informed her it would consider 10 years to Get well, and Sunday was that talismanic anniversary. I sense my life has long been redefined by Central Park, she explained numerous days back, her voice delicate and hopeful. Prior to park; just after park. Will there at any time be a time After i dont Imagine, Oh, This can be the 10th anniversary, the eleventh anniversary?

She spoke in her modest ranch household inside of a wooded subdivision in a very Ny suburb. She sat within a eating home strewn with toys, surrounded by photos of her cherubic, dark-haired 2-calendar year-outdated daughter. A Steinway grand stuffed fifty percent the home, and at one particular position she sat down and played. Her participating in was forceful, but she appeared humiliated to Engage in more than a few bars, and shrugged, in lieu of answering, when asked the name on the piece. She asked that her daughter and her town not be named.

She phone calls that day, June 4, 1996, the day Once i was harm.

Hers was the initial inside a string of attacks by exactly the same man on 4 Gals over 8 times. The final sufferer, Evelyn Alvarez, sixty five, was overwhelmed to Demise as she opened her Park Avenue dry-cleaning store, and in the long run, the assailant, John J. Royster, was convicted of murder and sentenced to existence in jail.

Yet the assault on the piano teacher may be the 1 persons look to keep in mind the most. Element of the fascination should do with echoes of the 1989 assault about the Central Park jogger. But Additionally, it frightened individuals in a way the assault to the jogger did not since its circumstances were being so mundane.

It did not take place inside of a distant Element of the park late at nighttime, but around a well known playground at three inside the afternoon. It could have occurred to anybody. The tension was heightened via the secret from the piano lecturers identification.

For 3 times, as police and Health professionals tried using to find out who she was, she lay inside a coma in her healthcare facility bed, nameless. Her moms and dads were being on family vacation and her boyfriend, also a musician, was in Europe, on tour. Last but not least, one of her learners recognized a police sketch and was able to recognize her in the clinic by her fingers, due to the fact her face was swollen over and above recognition. The law enforcement did not release her name.

The last thing she remembers about June four, 1996, is providing a lesson in her studio condominium on West 57th Avenue, then putting her long hair inside a ponytail and heading out for a stroll. She isn't going to don't forget the attack, Though she has read the accounts on the police and prosecutors.

To me its similar to a fact I learned and memorized, she claimed. As though I were a scholar in class learning background.

She does not consider the man who did it. I might need been angry for your moment, although not much longer than that, she said. How could I be offended at John Royster? He was declared not insane, but I guess by our criteria he was.

Dr. Jamshid Ghajar, her medical doctor at Ny Healthcare facility-Cornell Professional medical Heart, as it was known in 1996, told reporters that she experienced a 10 % chance of survival. Medical practitioners experienced to get rid of her forehead bone, which was later replaced, to produce home for her swelling Mind. When her mother created a general public appeal to pray for my daughter, 1000's did.

Immediately after eight times, she arrived away from a coma, initially within a vegetative state, then within a childlike state. As she recovered, she slept small and talked continually, in some cases in gibberish. I had been obtaining mad at people when they didnt respond to these text, she claimed.

Like an Alzheimers patient, she experienced minor quick-time period memory and would ignore guests when they left the place.

Over a number of months, she had to relearn the best way to wander, dress, read through and compose. Her boyfriend, Tony Scherr, visited every single day to Participate in guitar for her. He inspired her to Engage in the piano, towards the advice of her Actual physical therapists, who thought she can be disappointed by her incapability to play the way she once experienced. Mr. Scherr played Beatles duets along with her, enjoying the left-hand aspect even though she played the ideal.

Which was my finest therapy, she stated.

In August, she moved again home to New Jersey, together with her father, an engineer, and mother, a schoolteacher. She visited outdated haunts and named mates, making an attempt to revive her shattered memory. I was extremely obsessed with remembering, she said. Any memory decline was to me an indication of abnormality or deficit.

Her therapists considered her development was great, but her two sisters protested that she wasn't the deep thinker she were.

What bothered her most was that she had missing the ability to cry, just as if a faucet inside of her Mind were turned off. One particular night, 9 months after she was damage, she stayed up late to view the John Grisham Film A The perfect time to Eliminate. Just soon after her father experienced gone to bed, she watched a courtroom scene of Samuel Jacksons character on demo for killing two Adult males who had raped his younger daughter.

The faucet opened, and the tears trickled down her cheeks. I thought about my moms and dads, my father, and whatever they went by, she reported. Small by small, my sensation returned, my depth of head returned.

Urged by her sisters, she went back again to high school and got a masters degree in music education.

Not every thing went nicely. She and Mr. Scherr break up up five years following the attack, however they remain buddies. She dated other men, but she usually advised them about the assault instantly -- she couldn't help it, she stated -- plus they in no way identified as for just a 2nd day.

Now we have to discover you a person, her Mate David Phelps, a guitar player, said four many years ago, just before introducing her to Liam McCann, a pc technician and novice drummer. For at the time, she did not say anything in regards to the attack until eventually she acquired to find out Mr. McCann, then when she did, he admired her toughness.

Mayor Rudolph W. Giuliani, who had normally visited her at her bedside even though she was within the healthcare facility, married them in his Periods Sq. Workplace. She wore a blue gown and pearls. Though she was Expecting, in a burst of creativity, she and her friends recorded When Were being Younger, an album of childrens songs that she experienced written before the assault, such as the song Transferring. Her ex-boyfriend, Mr. Scherr, produced the CD. On it, her husband plays drums and she plays electrical piano.

Is her everyday living as it was? Not exactly, even though she's hesitant to attribute the dissimilarities to her accidents. Her final two piano pupils still left her, with out calling to clarify why, she reported. She has resumed participating in classical music, but basic items, because her daughter will not give her time and energy to follow. As for jazz, I dont even consider, she mentioned.

She would like to travel extra, sensation stranded from the suburbs, but she is well rattled. She attempts to be content material with staying dwelling and caring for her daughter.

Dr. Ghajar, a scientific professor of neurological surgery at what on earth is now referred to as NewYork-Presbyterian Clinic/Weill Cornell Clinical Middle, who operated on Ms. Kevorkian McCann following the attack, claimed previous week that her standard of Restoration was rare. Shes basically typical, he mentioned.

Other industry experts, who are not personally aware of Ms. Kevorkian McCanns situation, tend to be more careful.

Regaining the opportunity to Participate in the piano may possibly entail an Pretty much mechanical system, a semiautomatic remember of what the fingers must do, stated Dr. Yehuda Ben-Yishay, a professor of scientific rehabilitation medicine at New York University College of Medicine. As soon as brain-wounded, that you are generally brain-injured, for the rest of your lifetime, Dr. Ben-Yishay stated. There is no treatment, there is only intense compensation.

The greater telling Component of a Restoration, in his look at, is psychological, and on that rating he counts Ms. Kevorkian McCanns relationship and baby as a major victory.

For her section, the piano Instructor knows she has altered, but she has manufactured her peace with it. I was form of a hyper ---- I dont know if I was a Type A, but I used to be ambitious, she suggests. Why was I so formidable? I had been a piano Trainer. I dont know very well what the ambition was about. I actually did return to the person Im speculated to be.

Correction: June thirteen, 2006, Tuesday An short article on Thursday about Kyle Kevorkian McCann, a piano Instructor who was beaten and sexually assaulted ten years ago in Central Park, misstated the title of her album of childrens songs. It truly is Whilst Ended up Younger, not When Had been Younger.