#hotels already booked for rio now just the flights missing (again)

[aspeckof-stardust]

.

[kerwritesthings]

South Of The Equator

Summary: Gestures of love are woven in the fabric of relationships, especially ones built around the priority of your love

Word Count: literally juuuuust shy of 5.8k

Warning: pining, love and fluff

Author Notes: Muse fell in love with this photo last week when Bre threw it out onto my dash, spit out stupid notes at midnight that night for it along with about 350ish words and then didn’t touch it until again yesterday evening where I proceeded to crank out about 5.8k in less than 24 hours. Oops?

This falls well later into the verse, like the latest I’ve taken it thus far. It just felt right to bring this into that part of the timeline with the premise and where the muse was taking this. Can be read as a standalone but diving into the verse and the masterlist would give a little bit more understanding.

It was not in the plans. Whatsoever. A whim. A lot of longing. A lot of missing connections. A lot of feeling that this was a sync you just wouldn’t be able to get. That scares the both of you, more than either of you will let on especially to the other. You both promise that this would be the longest stretch on this very last swing – something like 48 or 50 days depending on travel for both of you, that a somewhere between 12 and 14-hour plane ride at best for a long weekend made no sense. You’re in Bucharest when he starts the swing in Mexico. What was thought to be a few days off for him to come home to see you between the last Mexico show and the venture further south becomes non-existent, with surprise pop up concerts in both Costa Rica and Panama along with hoopla surrounding them on either side that the label drops last minute. You initially think you’d be able to make the last shows, but there was a potential work trip to Hong Kong hanging over your head, so you both agree not book anything.

Well, love makes you do some stupid and irresponsibly crazy things. When the Asia client pushes their timeline back, things change completely. Which is why you find yourself on the phone, trying to make arrangements while juggling 7 open browser tabs on your laptop at nearly 1am. This is what you do for each other. It’s been established. It’s been done for each other on numerous occasions throughout your relationship. But it’s never been something like this. This grand and involved.

“Up for a bit of a challenge?” you start. “What’s the actual schedule like between Buenos and Rio and Santiago?”

“Flip it around. Chile first. Then Buenos then Sao Paulo. Finish off in Rio,” Beatriz laughs. “Don’t book the wrong flight. Cause. This is where it’s going isn’t it? This bugger is so lucky to have you. He best appreciate this. He’s been whiny. More to Cez then me. Andrew too, but he trusts Cez more when it comes to you.”

“He’s not the only one,” you sigh. “Dee’s taken to sending me videos and photos of Tali every day before I call to bitch to her to try to ease my tension. We’ve done longer, when we first got together. This one though. We’re just not taking it well, either of us. It feels off. He can’t come to me, so I have to go to him.”

“There’s doubles now in Santiago, not just in Buenos and Rio. Only the one in Sao Paulo. Days off scattered through, but definitely some between the city jumps. Are you really going to try to do just a weekend down here?” she asks.

“Work remote if I can swing it. Then bank out on some time off. I’m due after the extra hours to lock in the Danish project and the haul to Bucharest for basically a 48-hour lookie loo from them with no commitments. Boss lady is great as long as my work gets done and I don’t pull the ask for ‘but my famous boyfriend’ very often, if at all,” you explain, poking away at the keys of your laptop.

“Ooh Denmark, so you going to get out for that one?” Beatriz questions. “Do you have a lam for this tour? Should we get you another?”

“I think I can, timing looks ok and I may be able to drag Shawn with me for once since it’s after all this hoopla,” you mutter, poking at Kayak and cursing. “I think I do, snag one just in case if it’s not too much trouble. It looks like Air Canada has a direct from Pearson to Santiago at 11 hours of flight time and an overnight red-eye. Bless it. No layovers. Less chance for him to even let on. Y’all can sneak me in on the flights between yeah?”

“Shawn is gonna shit you know this right?” she laughs. “I heard about your surprises you both have pulled on each other before, but this is something else. Duh girl, yes of course. He’d have you sit on his lap the whole flight if he had to, but we definitely have the room. Give me the flight info. I’ll make Cez book it. Do not even think about clicking that buy button that I know you’re hovering over.”

“Bea...” you begin.

“No, not hearing it. Cez blocked out travel budget for him to go home and you know that didn’t happen, so your flight there and then back with him at the end it is instead,” Beatriz interjects. “I’ll loop in C for sure. Maybe Andrew. Less folks who know the better, we need to keep this on lock down.”

“Beatriz, you’re the best. I owe you big time. I’m so glad you’re on this rag tag motley crew,” you thank her. “Let Cez know if he needs anything when he’s booking, if they don’t have it saved to just let me know.”

“Bottle of Bulleit and you finally spill the recipe for those kitchen sink bars the boys are always raving about and inhaling, we’ll call it even,” she deadpans. “But no really, I’m glad to help. As much as I tease that boy of yours, I’ve got a soft spot for him. We need to figure an epic reveal. It’s late. I’ll fire off a text to Cez and we’ll be on it tomorrow. Off with you. Night!”

You have a week between that call and your flight down to get all your things in order luckily. Work is understanding and accommodating, your boss practically sending out the out of office email for you after she hears your plans. He meanwhile has a few shows in Ecuador, Peru and Bolivia ahead of him within that same time frame.

“There’s that face I adore,” you smile through FaceTime as you’re tucked in bed, two nights before you’re due to leave. “Hi you. How was the show? Where are you now?”

“Just out of the shower in the hotel and about to fall face first into bed, but I needed a dose of my pretty girl before I do,” he exhales, running a hand though his mess of wet curls. “Good, crowds down here are something else. Beyond the first time I swung through, on the last tour. And them singing back in perfect English still breaks my brain a little. Tired though. Looking forward to the break. Day break here, then like a half one off in Santiago before the last few shows. It’s so crazy to think we’re there already.”

“I can’t believe it’s almost over,” you murmur. “You did it baby, an entire circle of the globe. I’m beyond proud of you.”

“As much as I love this, I’m ready for just me, you and our bed. At least for a week straight, if not a few of them,” he chuckles. “Remind me of how tired I am now when I start to say I’m twitchy or bored, ok?”

“If you say so,” you say sleepily. “Just remember, I get to drag you with me on some my work trips next. Denmark for sure. Hong Kong perhaps since that’s still a moving target. Maybe Prague. Wanna be a silly romantic tourist with you for a bit. Just me and you”

“Always me and you, sweetheart. Go get some sleep. You’ve got work in the morning,” he whispers. “We can talk more tomorrow, promise.”

“You sure?” you fight back a yawn, eyes starting to flutter. “Can you sing to me though? Please? I miss you. Be like you’re here.”

He starts humming at first, the eases into a slowed down, Shawn-esque version of Sam Smith’s Latch. You want to stay awake to hear the whole thing, but he sounds like he’s there singing it right into your ear while he’s got your back against his chest. It’s so pretty, easy and dream like that you drift off in moments. He watches you for a few minutes after he finishes the song, making sure you’re truly asleep. Plus, he just wants to feel like he’s next to you in bed.

“Goodnight and sleep well, baby,” he whispers before disconnecting from FaceTime, a small smile slipping across his lips.

“He still has no clue by the way, so you’ve done a bang-up job,” Cez explains as he rings you while you’re in the car on the way to Pearson. “You’re still running on time from what we checked so you’re good. We’ve got everything square. Bea will come snag you from the airport, you’ll have time to hit the hotel, she’ll have the extra room key for you so you can get some actual rest and then get ready. Figure we’ll grab you while he’s doing Q&A. Do you want to surprise him before the show? After?”

“During?” you laugh, leaning your head back against the headrest as the car makes its way down the 401. “Maximum effect. Con would be on my side too you know, epic footage.”

“Of course, you do,” he retorts. “I should have known. Don’t forget, I’m on your side too. I’m glad this worked. I know it’s been a long stretch. For the both of you. I’ve seen it wear on him, but he’s put up a good front minus a few nights where he ends up with me until he needs to get to sleep, just needing someone who understands to talk to.”

“I’m glad he has you, that we both have you. You are a gift, Cez, really,” you reply as the car slows to ease up to the terminal. “I’m just about to hop out. I’ll text you and Bea when I land in the morning, customs will probably take a bit to get through. Thank you again.”

“Fly safe, dear. Try to get some rest and we’ll see you tomorrow,” he responds.

Check in was easy, of course they went above and beyond on the flight. You text Cez and Bea a photo of a cookie from the lounge with your ticket telling them they did not need to and thanking them. Cez responds first.

Again, you know if he found out we flew you like in row 24 on a flight that long, he would pitch a fit. I’m not up for a Shawn fit this late into the last of the last legs of tour. Enjoy the space and the lay flat. Sunshine and that boy awaits you.

Beatriz chimes in next.

Label owes you and the pain in the arse, so enjoy it! Have one for me. I’ll be there for you tomorrow with bells on and a tea in hand. Cannot wait for this – so epic. You two are nauseatingly adorbs.

The flight wasn’t crowded thankfully and the room to stretch fully is a welcome bonus. You are able to wind down a lot easier than expected and get a decent amount of sleep especially given it was on a flight, lay flat or not. Despite an extra circle, you land only a few minutes past your initial arrival time, make it through customs quickly and thankfully your luggage is waiting for you once you’re done.

“There she is,” Beatriz calls out as you head out to the open concourse. “And in one piece too with all your bits and bobbles. Good, the boss won’t be angry. And as promised, your tea!”

“Which one?” you chuckle, snagging the iced chai before hugging her.

“I can handle Cez, your man though,” she rolls her eyes as you walk out to the sprinter van. “He tried you last night when we were coming back from dinner, couldn’t get through even though we all told him it was late. He got all sad puppy. You were just about taking off, so it made sense. If he only knew what today is bringing him. I’ll drop you at the hotel, sleep, shower, eat, do whatever. I’ll be round to grab you about 4.”

As soon as you step into his room, you are overwhelmed just by the sheer sense of being back in his space again, despite him not even being there at the moment. You drop your suitcase, strip and crawl immediately into his still unmade bed to surround yourself in the smell of him. Setting your alarm before you drift off, you curl yourself around his pillow and exhale. Only a few more hours and you’ll be able to wrap your arms around him instead of a goose down that carries whiffs of his scent. A deep breath, an inhale you hold just for a moment before letting it go carefully and you’re drifting away.

You wake shortly before the alarm and to a couple texts from Shawn.

Miss you pretty girl. Almost there.

FaceTime after the show tonight? Even just for a few, I can tuck you in from here again like the other night.

Saw this on the drive over before, couldn’t help but think of you.

It was a slightly angled photo out the car window, but it was of a park with a fountain surrounded by high bushes littered with flowers.

I wish I could press you into those blooms and kiss you. Would make such a pretty picture. Love you baby.

You will yourself not to cry. That sweet, sentimental boy of yours. You’ll have time, you need to make that happen tomorrow.

I miss you sweetheart, so much. Yes to tonight, I’d love a tuck in from you. We’re so close. Love you <3

A shower, some primping and a good battle with both your blow dryer and your travel steamer later, you’re finally ready to head out.

“He’s a lucky bastard this one,” Beatriz whistles before handing over your new credential as you slide the van door closed behind you. “Don’t you have any sisters you can send my way? Cousins?”

“Sorry Bea, only child,” you laugh, as the van pulls away. “Cousins are stateside and not your type.”

“He was happy to hear from you before. Stopped in the middle of sound check to look at his phone. Got all stupid smiley and googly eyed,” she rolls her eyes. “He’s so gone on you if it wasn’t so bloody sweet to see him so gushy, it would make me ill.”

“Just wait ‘till later. I should apologize now,” you explain.

“Why there’s no plans for post-show, dearie. We knew better,” she giggles. “Shawn’s not going to want to share.”

You can’t help but smile as you pass the park he sent you the photo of earlier, it’s prettier than his shot let on. You definitely have to go there tomorrow. From that point, it’s a windy way through the streets of Santiago to the arena.

“He should just be wrapping up,” Beatriz prattles, looking at her watch as you make your way through the bowels of the building. “Which is good, I can sneak you into Cez’s room without him sniffing about. You, he, Jake and Con still need to hash everything out yeah?”

“Kind of. It’s the fine tuning of details at this point,” you say, flipping the pass around in your hands before slipping it around your neck as you walk, still not fully grasping you’re going to see him as soon as you are. “It’s a matter of where to go in the pit during his walk up to stage where I won’t be spotted too easily, but also not be in the way of everything either. I think it’ll work, totally up to Jake though. Worse case, we’ll do it just before rally or he hits the stage. Better visuals, and Con will agree with me, but it’s Jake and Cez who have final call.”

“It’s brilliant, all of it. However, here is where I leave you for now,” Beatriz nudges you through the door into Cez’s makeshift office for the next two days. “Need to make sure the sound techs have everything. Fridge is stocked, so steal what you need. He should be back in a few. They’re due to be walking your man now. His room isn’t far, so stay put. I’ll let C know you’re here. Toodles!”

Shortly after you settle in on the couch, engrossing yourself in your inbox, you feel someone settle down next to you.

“Thank god you’re here, I cannot do the sad Shawn shit anymore,” Connor sighs, throwing an arm around your shoulder. “I love him like a brother but damn, this go has been a beast when he’s feeling it like that.”

“Hi Connor, I’ve missed you too Connor, it’s good to see you Connor,” you roll your eyes, pushing his arm off you with a poke.

“Yeah yeah, all that too,” he smiles, sliding his arm back into place and kissing your cheek. “It’s good to have you here, all that aside. Despite all that, missed you around these parts.”

“Considering Central America took away our long weekend together, with no warning. It’s just been a hard go this swing. For both of us. May just be the wear and tear of a tour this long finally hitting. Even with as much as we’ve made it a priority to stay more connected and grounded. You guys are lucky it’s the end and it didn’t happen in like the middle of Europe, or the US leg. Though that would have been easier to get to than an almost 11-hour flight,” you fight out.

“You’re too good for him you know?” he teases. “Remember, he has friends if you ever need to bail.”

“Not any of y’all that’s for sure. No way. And, it’s the other way around, Con,” you reply, poking at his knee. “So, you’ve seen the setup, what’s going to make the most sense?”

“We’re going to do whatever you want, missus,” Jake chimes in as the door shuts behind him and Cez. “Only thing I require is a hug.”

“I think that can be arranged,” you say happily, ducking around Connor to get to Jake. “Con, stop being in the way.”

“Thank you,” you murmur to Jake as he pulls you into an embrace.

“We should be thanking you,” he whispers hugging you tightly. “And seriously. We’ll make it all happen. Kid needs this as much as you do.”

You pull away, smiling. “Ok guys so here’s what I’m thinking. Let’s surprise him on the walk out.”

The details come together quickly as well as easily. You’re happy, the team is comfortable with it all. It also helps he’s not expecting a thing. Everyone’s on board.

“So,” Cez begins, rolling a bottle of water around in his hands as everyone else filters out. “Hop a flight on a whim in the states or Canada is one thing. Cross the pond, a little more effort, but doable. This is something else entirely, even for the two of you.”

“I don’t know why this one is so different; I wish I knew; believe me I do. It would have saved me an 11-hour flight,” you utter. “It’s not like we’ve not done it before. We got through this, worse even, when he went out on last leg of the last tour and I had no leverage to take time off to come out other than that last show. We were only together a little bit at that point.”

Cez smiles his all-knowing smile, looking down at your hands playing with your credential. “I think you do, somewhere in there. I think he does too, well I know he does.”

“What are you talking about?” you ask inquisitively. “We’re good, really good. Minus this blip and it’s just us being a little more emotionally wound together. More in the groove than we’ve ever been. It’s been great, actually.”

He smiles yet again, making you wonder even more, and picks up his hand pointing to a certain finger.

“No,” you shake your head.

He nods, still smiling. “You’re practically there already.  We were honestly all surprised it didn’t happen before tour, or at break. Especially after Japan. I knew though not the holidays, it’s too cliché and not him, or you. He’s asked me a few things, more recently. Won’t give away more than that, but it kind of all makes sense. At least to me.”

“I just. Like. Shit Cez,” you sigh, looking down at the lam in your hands. “We’ve talked about it before, couple times. We want it, both of us. He’s it for me, and vice versa. He knows I’ll say yes. I’ve told him as much. But I’m also not that girl that needs the pretty on her hand to know where we stand in our relationship. He’s also not that overly possessive man who needs to prove he’s got me like that to the world, even in his crazy whirlwind of a life.”

“I think it’s both of you really ready for what’s next and this just all happens to be in the way right now. But, you’re here now, which not only is he going to be over the moon about, the rest of us are pretty happy as well. Not just because he’ll be in better spirits, it’s because we love you just as much too,” he states plainly. “You’re as much a part of this, a part of the family. I’m personally glad you’re here for these last few. This run’s been special, you should be here for the end of it.”

“Do not make me ruin my makeup, damnit,” you half laugh, half bite back a sob. “I’m so glad he has you, not just on the road, but in general. I know how much he loves you. I do, too.”

His phone pings rapidly.

“Ten-minute warning for fetching him. Let’s go get you out and set. Phil’s on you until Jake walks out with Shawn,” he states, reaching for his headset in one hand, for you with his other.

You carefully walk down the back hallway towards the stage together. Jake and Phil meet you at the back corner of the build out. Jake hands you off a fresh pair of earplugs.

“You’re going to need these,” he reminds you. “It’s his usual walk, so he won’t expect a thing. Especially seeing Phil at that junction of the barricade, once Phil gets the signal from me that we’re going, he’ll shift behind you so Shawn can spot you.”

You throw him a thumbs up as you wedge the plugs into place. Phil takes your arm in his, his other hand patting your forearm.

“Let’s go surprise him,” he says, leading you out to the pit.

For some reason, probably your conversation with Cez if you’re being honest with yourself, has your stomach set off with butterflies. You’ve not been like this since the early days of your relationship. Excited, always. Happy, without a doubt. Nervous though? No. You try to not shift about, instead closing your eyes to take in the moment. The crowd is loud, you can smell the remnants of the smoke machine test earlier lingering in the air.

Phil taps your shoulder, sliding you into place in front of him.

“He’s walking,” he mouths with a wink.

The house lights come down and the stage lights start to just warm. You exhale and lean back onto Phil slightly, whose hands come to rest comfortably on your shoulders. The opening video starts to roll and the lights hit the pit walk so you know you’ve got about 30 seconds at best before he comes into view. Phil pushes you forward just a touch just as you spot Jake and Shawn with Connor shuffling just behind to get the right angle for the surprise.

He’s in his pre-show zone, not taking in much around him. Jake nudges him though and his eyes shoot up. Shawn looks over towards you, taking a moment for things to register, and when it does his smile is as bright as you’ve seen. His eyes grow wide, he turns to Jake, who nods with a grin and then Shawn takes off in a sprint.

“Surprise!” you try to scream, but he’s already got you in his hold lifting you to swing you around.

“Tell me I’m not dreaming, please,” he utters in your ear before pulling you closer, finally getting you back on your feet.

You slide your hands from his shoulders, one to the nape of his neck fingering the wispy curls there, the other to nudge his one in-ear out.

“Not a dream, baby. Very much here, very much real. You got me for the rest of the run, love,” you say directly into his ear. “Go be my Rockstar. I’ll watch side stage, be there waiting for you after the show.”

You pop his in-ear back into place then cup his cheek, watching his eyes roll back slightly.

“I love you so damn much,” he yells before kissing you soundly. “I am so lucky you’re mine.”

Shawn rubs his nose against yours before sneaking in another kiss, then runs up to the stage with Jake on his heels. Jake winks as he passes, throwing a double thumbs up before Phil takes you towards the back staircase so you can set up on the rolling case you know is waiting for you.

The show is electric as always, but he’s got a special energy tonight. You can’t help but feel a bit happy as to probably being the reason why. He’s smiling, sweaty and disheveled, running back towards you in the break before the encore.

“You’re a mess,” you quip with a smile, handing him a bottle of water and a towel.

“Never minded that before,” he retorts back, running a hand through the mess of his hair after wiping his face down with the towel.

“Not the place Shawn Peter,” you say, shooing him away. “Go finish, I’m not going anywhere.”

He drops the water bottle down on the case next to you, stealing another kiss before bopping his way back out.

You hop off the case and head out towards the curtain line to get a better view. His encore covers have been something else this tour. He’s been leaning hard into Tom Petty’s Free Fallin’ and it’s a stunner, especially just him and the piano.

“I had a surprise tonight delivered to me just before the show, a really amazing one actually,” he begins as he settles into playing the piano. “So, if you all don’t mind, I’m going to play something a little special before I get into my last two songs.”

Once he hits the first few chords, your jaw drops immediately.

“You lift my heart up when the rest of me is down. You, you enchant me, even when you're not around. If there are boundaries, I will try to knock them down. I'm latching on babe now I know what I have found,” he sings and you can’t help but inch closer to the edge as far as you can go without being spotted or seen. “I feel we're close enough, I wanna lock in your love. I think we're close enough, could I lock in your love, baby? Now I got you in my space, I won't let go of you. Got you shackled in my embrace; I'm latching on to you.”

You didn’t expect this the other night, so you very much don’t expect it tonight. You can’t do anything but watch him, enamored and amazed. He sounds breathtaking. The whole song just gives you goosebumps, especially in a setting like this. Damn this boy.

“Thanks for indulging me tonight, Santiago,” he says and you can see the flush spreading across his cheeks, even from there. He immediately segues into Free Fallin’ to get his encore moving, before finishing completely with If I Can’t Have You.

He’s got a hold of your hands the moment he’s out of sight of the audience.

“Did you like it?” he asks, dipping his head down to kiss you, feather soft.

“Love it, love you,” you reply, dusting kisses across his knuckles. “Come on, let’s get you back there before they start to think we’re defiling a case on the stage.”

He chuckles, tangling his fingers deeper with yours before leading you towards his dressing room. As you hit the main hallway, most of the band and the crew are waiting there and start whooping and clapping the moment the two of you come into view.

“What the hell?” you question, as he holds your hand tighter trying to make your way down the hall. He shakes his head, cheeks pink as he bites his bottom lip.

“Hold up,” Jake stops you both just before the doorway to his room, arms crossing against his chest and a shit eating grin spread across his face. “Believe you owe this lady a thank you.”

“Hello, the song, on stage, the encore? In front of the whole damn audience,” he retorts, running his free hand through his curls before tugging you towards him and the door without getting you covered in post-show sweat. “Now I’d like to shower, get the heck out of here so I can spend some time with her. Without an audience.”

You can hear the snickers and wolf whistles, it’s your turn to flush. Jake shakes his head no.

“You know what you assholes, fine,” Shawn sighs before rolling his eyes.

“Don’t even with me kid,” Jake smirks.

“I know what you’re…” he trails off but tugs your hand, so you stand closer to him. “Shit. C’mere baby.”

The next thing you know he’s cupping your neck and kissing the breath straight out of you. Your hands fly up, one gripping his shoulder the other tangling in his hair. He pulls away first, just as breathless as you’re feeling.

“You all happy now? Can I please get into my room?” he asks.

Jake moves aside, patting him on the shoulder. He snatches your hand and tugs you into the room, shutting and locking the door behind you both.

“Do I even want to know?” you say, leaning back against the door as he toes off his boots.

“Grander the gesture, bigger the thank you,” he replies, stripping off his button down next, his tank and jeans follow. “They like to tease, you know this. Especially when you and I start getting the way we do. It’s all in good fun, but not when you pull the most epic surprise and I’ve run through a whole damn show. I haven’t seen you in how long and I still haven’t really held you or loved on you the way I want to.”

“Then you best go shower, sweetheart,” you tease. “You know feeling is mutual.”

He darts over to kiss you again, “Be right back.”

He’s quick, which you appreciate, and even more that he’s just in a pair of threadbare, low slung navy sweats when he heads back out to you. He drops the towel in his hand to snag yours, pulling you towards the couch. He flops down first and pulls you immediately down on top of him. He kisses your forehead before scooting you down so your head can rest comfortably on his shoulder. He smells fresh, clean, warm, like him and like home.

“Hi baby,” he murmurs against your lips before kissing you slowly and thoroughly. “Fuck, how I missed you. I can’t believe you’re here. I’m so damn happy that you’re here. You’re amazing you know that? How did you pull this off?”

“Once Hong Kong pushed timeline, I had a little wiggle room, but I wouldn’t be sure until Denmark signed off,” you explain, finger carefully tracing back and forth against his collarbone and shoulder. “I didn’t want to get either of our hopes up, so I didn’t say anything. Then like a week and a half ago? That night we just couldn’t get timing together I think you were in Panama still. I was up and cranky at stupid o’clock, said screw it. I knew I had some comp time due, had a little vacation time left, plus after Bucharest debacle on their part, they kind of owe me to boot. Called Bea, looped in Cez and voila.”

“You’re making it harder to even come remotely close to do for you what you do for me,” he presses his lips against your hair. “I’m so grateful for you.”

“There’s not a tally, sweetheart. We do for each other, you know this,” you remind him. “You and me, always right?”

There’s a knock on the door and jingling of keys, you go to move but Shawn holds you to him.

“Just gonna be C, we’re not doing anything. You stay put,” he wraps his arms around your waist and nuzzles your ear.  

“Sorry kids, time to get a move on,” Cez calls out from the doorway. “Can I come in? Are you at least PG?”

“It’s cuddling man, that’s all,” Shawn barks out with a laugh as you bury your head into his neck.

“You’ve got about 10 minutes to get yourselves together before the sprinter gets here,” he reminds you both. “We’ve got a curfew in the building overall, so we can’t be late on this one.”

“I’ll make sure he’s ready,” you reply, trying to wiggle out of his hold. “Let’s go, you. Need to get your stuff together. Can’t be late.”

“Listen to your girl, Shawn,” Cez remarks. “She’s right. Plus, you’ll be free of us and interruptions once you’re back at the hotel. Late call tomorrow since we’re already set here. I’m leaving the door unlocked and open so no funny bunny ok?”

“Thanks, Cez. See you in a few,” you say, trying to nudge at Shawn.

“You know that means we can go to that park in the morning,” you whisper, kissing his chin once Cez is back out in the hallway. “Upsy daisy dear.”

He sighs dramatically, but with a smile, “Only if you promise a little morning love, breakfast in bed and that park in the morning.”

“You drive such a hard bargain,” you giggle. “It’s a deal.”

He kisses you quickly and loudly before sitting up with you still in his hold, “I can’t wait to get you alone alone tonight.”

“Which would be sooner if you got a move on,” you roll your eyes, poking at his chest while his hands palm you ass.

He stops for a moment though, looks at you softly while not taking his eyes off of you.

“Love you pretty girl,” he declares, hand pushing stray strands of your hair away from your cheek, before holding it in his palm.

“Love you too, Shawn.”  

[artificialqueens]

Aloha, Part 1: Sand Angels (Bitney) - Veronica

A/N: An Undone sequel that probably makes more sense if you’ve read the main story, set during the holidays, while Bianca is still pregnant with Ruby. Here’s a link to the story on AQ and here’s a link to it on AO3.

Summary: Courtney and Bianca spend Christmas in Maui, discovering their new favorite spot.

(Thank you to @artificialpuddle for being an amazingly patient beta!!) 

TW: Discussion of past emotional abuse, trauma, and physical violence. (Side note: I know I said that these sequels would be fluffy, and they mostly are, but this is set before the end of the main story, so uh...we still got some major issues to work out.)

***

Bianca is exhausted by the time they wrap on season two of Silver Screens. She’s already embroiled in litigation with Jared’s family over exactly what’s happening with, not only his money, but their joint property. She’s considered giving up, just letting them win so that she can walk away, but ultimately, none of it is for her. Every time she looks down at her growing belly, she remembers who she’s fighting for, and it fuels her anger and her determination.

However, it’s draining. And she’s now almost six months pregnant, and the idea of flying to New Orleans for the holidays just sounds horrible. She knows that her family means well, but the constant checking up, the absolutely nonstop advice and questions, make it all worse.

After confiding all of these concerns to Bob, her therapist makes another suggestion: why not go somewhere else? A real vacation, just her and Courtney, somewhere they can truly get away from everything stressful and take some time for themselves?

She’s still not sure, but then she mentions the idea to Courtney, who is 200% on board, and by the end of the week, they’ve got flights to Maui, a hotel booked, and two weeks of pure, blissful lazing around time. Which all sounds wonderful in theory, but Bianca can’t help feeling a bit guilty about ditching her family.

However, the second her feet hit that white, powdery sand, she sighs in relief, turning to Courtney with a dimpled grin.

“Okay, you and Bob were right. Coming here was the right decision.”

Courtney leans forward to brush a gentle kiss against her lips.

“I suppose you don’t wanna race to the water,” she murmurs.

“I’ll race you when I’m not the size of a goddamn whale,” Bianca says, and Courtney giggles softly against her neck.

“Don’t even start, you know you’re perfect…”

A gentle tug pulls Bianca towards the ocean, which is warm and calm and as the waves lap against Bianca’s thighs, she starts to feel perfectly at ease.

“God, it’s beautiful…” Bianca sighs, staring out at the sparkling water.

“Sure is,” Courtney says, only she’s not looking at the scenery. Her eyes are fixated on Bianca’s face, watching her with a dreamy expression as a cool breeze blows her hair around.

Bianca tightens her grip on Courtney’s hand, trying to tell her without words how grateful she is, how lucky she feels. And Courtney seems to understand, pulling her close and wrapping her arms around her waist.

“Aloha…” she sings softly, and Bianca shakes her head, the smile on her face feeling permanent by now.

“Aloha yourself, cheeseball.”

***

Later, laying on a towel in the warm sand, Bianca sighs happily. She hasn’t been this relaxed in ages. Years, maybe. And the best part is that she has Courtney by her side, face tilted to the sun. She reaches languidly for her.

Courtney turns, gazing down at Bianca, and wraps a lock of still-damp dark brown hair around her finger.

“How are you feeling?” she asks softly, and Bianca smiles.

“Relieved...that we’re finally here.”

The past few months have been rough. Sometimes excruciatingly so. Courtney knows that no matter how hard Bianca tried to take things one day at a time, to not get so caught up in worrying about outcomes, that most of the time her mind was racing a mile a minute.

But now, there’s only the gentle breeze, the sound of rolling waves and the occasional bird, the fragrant air. It’s truly paradise, especially when Courtney’s lips find Bianca’s for a slow kiss, one hand resting on her belly.

“She’s kicking up a storm today,” Bianca says. “I guess we forgot to tell her that this is the chill zone.”

Courtney giggles, rubbing her belly in slow circles.

“Maybe she just heard how nice it is and wants to come join us.”

“You think she gets yelp reviews in there?” Bianca asks.

“Listen, this new generation is very technologically advanced. You have no idea.”

“That’s terrifying.” Bianca pulls Courtney in for another kiss, the baby kicking again.

“Wow, Dame Edna Del Rio really likes it here,” Courtney giggles.

“We both do. Thank you for suggesting this,” Bianca says, thumb stroking Courtney’s cheek lightly.

“All I want is for you to be happy…” Courtney tells her, seeking out her pulse point for another kiss that leaves her tingling.

And in that moment, Bianca is happy. Truly, deliriously happy.

It can’t last forever though--that feeling of perfect calm. The lovely bubble has to pop sometime. It does, of course, only a little while later, as they’re strolling on the beach hand in hand.

“I really worry about you sometimes,” Courtney admits, fingers laced with hers.

“You don’t have to worry.”

“But you’ve been through so much. You must have so much you need to deal with, and I just want you to know that you don’t have to do it alone.”

“I don’t want to spend all our time together talking about my stupid trauma,” Bianca says.

“I get that. But B, it doesn’t have to be all the time. Just sometimes. When you need to-”

“Can’t we just enjoy the fucking sunset?” Bianca groans. She stops, turning to face the water, watching the golden rays reflecting off the waves.

“Sure.” Courtney wraps her arms around her from behind, pressing a kiss to her neck, letting Bianca lean back into her touch.

It goes on like that for a few days. Any time Courtney tries to get deep with her, Bianca deftly changes the subject, cajoles her to live in the moment, or simply distracts her with physical affection. After awhile, Courtney catches onto her game.

They’re snuggled in bed after a long and wonderful day--exploring the island in the morning, followed by a lively Christmas luau. Courtney’s fingers card gently through her hair. Bianca’s face is tucked into her neck, inhaling her, almost sinfully relaxed, when she brings it up again.

“B…”

“Mmm?”

“I’ve been thinking about Jared.”

Bianca’s eyes pop open, spine going rigid. That’s not the name she wants to hear right now.

“Do you ever like...miss him?”

“No.”

Bianca’s hands slide around Courtney’s waist, pulling her closer.

“It would be okay if you did, you know-”

“I know, but I don’t.”

“Sometimes I feel really guilty. Like maybe if I wasn’t around, you’d have...I don’t know.” Courtney sighed.  

“Stayed with him? Lived happily ever after? Are you fucking nuts?”

“No, of course not, but maybe it wouldn’t have ended in such a terrible way.”

“You know what would be more fun than this conversation?” Bianca asked, fingers digging into her waist. “You and me, fucking and then getting into that spa shower.”

“Bianca.”

“What?” Bianca’s lips have found her pulse point now, nibbling teasingly on her most sensitive spot.

“Just stop for a second,” Courtney says, wriggling away slightly. “I’m trying to talk to you.”

“I don’t want to talk about this.”

“I know, but you never want to talk about it, so-”

“Why can’t we just have sex instead?” Bianca whines, tugging on Courtney’s shorts. She purses her lips, giving her sexiest bedroom eyes. “I’ll make it worth your while…”

“Bianca! Stop.”

“Is this because I’m fat?”

Courtney rolls her eyes to the ceiling, seems to say a little prayer to herself before replying, “Do not even try that bullshit, you know damn well-”

“It is! I’m fat and hideous!” Bianca exclaims, hoisting herself off the bed, pacing around the room like a madwoman.

“B, come on, I’m serious…”

“So am I! I’m trying to fuck you, but all you want to do is talk, and-” Bianca stops. It’s the cheapest sort of deflection, the kind of game she used to play with Jared. Worse, it was the kind of game Jared used to play with her. Gaslighting.

The only upside, the only thing that prevents her from completely losing it, is that Courtney, for all her softness, is not buying one bit. Bianca suddenly feels as gross and hideous as she’s pretending to, all at once. Tears spilling down her cheeks.

Courtney waits, letting her have her little tantrum. When she finally returns to the bed, sinking down next to Courtney with her head in her hands, she feels fingers trailing gently up her spine.

A soft voice whispers, “I would love to know what you’re thinking right now, B. Really.”

Bianca looks up, her tear-stained cheeks blotchy, eyes red and swollen. She opens her mouth, but it still won’t come. Courtney takes her hands, kisses her fingers, keeps waiting.  

“I’m a terrible person,” Bianca finally says.  

Courtney has a pained expression on her face, like she’s doing everything she can to listen without arguing. She finally settles on, “Why do you think that?”

“Because I’m happy. I really am. And the more time goes by, the happier I am. He’s dead, and all I can think is...I’m fucking free. We’re free. This baby, she never has to know...”

Tears are falling faster now, blurring her vision. Courtney doesn’t say anything, just holds her for the longest time. When Bianca finally lifts her head, Courtney silently helps her to her feet, tugs her toward the door.

“Where are we going?” Bianca asks, but follows easily, wiping her eyes.

They’re both barefoot, walking down the stone path to the beach, powdery soft sand cool in the moonlight. The edge of the sky is still slightly glowing from the recently set sun, streaks of violet and dusty orange, the whole beach calm and beautiful, in that ethereal way where you can’t quite believe it’s real.

Courtney reaches the edge of the water and sits, helping Bianca down beside her. She stretches out her legs, letting the waves lick gently at her feet, tilting her face towards the sky, the glittering stars just beginning to appear.

“You’re not a terrible person, Bianca,” she finally says. “You’re just...a person.”

“And we’re all sinners? Is that it?”

“No. No, that’s not it at all. You’re a person, with flaws, but those flaws do not include a desire to hurt other people.”

“But I did.”

“You were just fighting for your life. Fighting for my life. The fact that we were even in that position--none of it was your fault. You’d worked so, so hard to avoid anything like it. I saw you.”

“Sometimes I worry that I’m...some kind of sociopath. Because I’m so glad he’s gone, and I...I can’t make myself feel anything different.” The tears are flowing freely down her cheeks again. Sometimes Bianca tries to fathom how she has any tears left about this, after the rivers and oceans she’s already cried. And this from someone who always described herself as ‘not really a big crier.’ Maybe a better description would be ‘generally out of touch with her emotions.’

“Do you think I’d be with you if you were violent? Dangerous?”

“I don’t know.”

“Look, I’m not saying you’re perfect. Nobody is. But every flaw, every little weird idiosyncrasy...all of that makes you who you are, and who you are…”

Courtney edges closer, taking Bianca’s chin and tilting it towards her.

“I love you so fucking much, B. And it’s not because I’m some kind of sadist. It’s because you make me…” Courtney bites her lip, a crease furrowing her brow.

“Frustrated?” Bianca tries to break the tension, as much as she can with tears still glistening on her cheeks, falling faster than she can wipe them away.

“No,” Courtney counters. “I mean, yes, sometimes, but also...hopeful. And appreciated. And challenged. And...so fucking happy.”

“Even tonight?”

“Yeah.”

“Even though I brought a whole world of chaos into your life?”

“Look at where we are.” Courtney gestures to their surroundings. “If you think I would trade away one second of this, of our lives right now, just to avoid some of that chaos, then...you don’t know me very well.”

Bianca swallows, looking at Courtney’s eyes burning bright in the moonlight, and she knows. She knows it’s true because she feels the same way. But she’s too mentally exhausted to explain how much she needed that reassurance. So instead, she finally just nods.

“Yeah.”

Courtney smiles and orders, “Lie back.”

“What? Why?”

“We’re gonna make sand angels.”

“Sand angels are not a thing, Courtney.”

“Yes they are! They’re a time-honored Australian Christmas tradition, just go with it.”

Bianca laughs softly, spreading her arms and legs, feeling ridiculous and childish and almost giddy. Not that she stops complaining.

“We’re too close to the water. They’re just gonna wash away, like, immediately.”

“Yeah, well…” Courtney gets up, drawing halos over first her own angel, and then Bianca’s, kneeling above her head, giving her an upside-down grin in the process. “That doesn’t mean they weren’t beautiful while they were here.”

“You’re so deep,” Bianca teases.

“I know, right? Sooooore deep. You’re very lucky.”

Bianca laughs, feels something akin to a knot unwinding in her chest, making her feel lighter. Younger. She sits up and spins around, grabbing Courtney’s face and pulling her in for a messy, slightly sandy and very salty kiss.

“I am.”

[ultsoobins]

worlds apart - CYJ

requested:

no

notes:

feels angsty but it’s fluffy i promise

based on this song

it’s less than 1k! real short

summary:

yeonjun travels the world for happiness but realizes his happiness is you

yeonjun allows himself one last, lonely sigh before he steps back, pulling his arms back from over his balcony’s railing. he glances at the stars once more before turning back towards the warmth of his hotel room, letting the doors slide shut with a resounding thwack behind him. he doesn’t bother with pulling the curtains back into place.

it’s been three months, a week, and six days since he’d last seen you, and the memory of his lips against his in a gentle parting kiss still haunts him. even now, as he settles onto his - too empty - temporary bed, he finds his fingers ghosting over his lips in remembrance. he loves this part of his life, there’s no question about it - he loves the traveling, loves seeing the world. paris, milan, new york, los angeles, rio de janeiro, taipei, melbourne - he’s swept through them all at breakneck speeds, living his life just as he’s always wanted.

quickly. beautifully. feeling as if the whole world is at his fingertips.

the only problem, really, is the fact that his dreams are only 99% fulfilled - the 1%, of course, is that he’d wished to live without regrets. yeonjun damns percentages - damns them thoroughly. they’ve never turned out in his favor.

his biggest regret, he knows, is back home getting ready for work. he learns timezones by how they relate to you. remembers streetfood recipes based on how much you’d want to learn them. records videos and takes pictures of things you would find beautiful. you, you, you.

if his life hadn’t pulled him back into the great big whirlpool of his dream, he’d be back in your apartment right now, lazing around in bed, teasing you about buttoning your shirt incorrectly. he’d probably pull you into his arms - you’ve always fit into him like it’s where you’re supposed to be - and press his lips against your forehead, your nose, both cheeks, and your lips, which would be parted prettily in laughter. you’d kiss him goodbye before going to work, and he’d stay home.

bored. yearning to travel again.

it’s why, three months, a week, and six days ago, you’d asked him to go to a coffee shop with you, waking up earlier than you had in the time he’d known you. he knew, then. even before you told him, lattes steaming between the two of you, that you thought it would be best if he went back to seeing the world - because it made him happier than anything -  he knew.

“i’m sorry,” he’d whispered, fingers lacing with yours over the table.

“don’t be sorry,” you’d responded, shooting him the smile that he’d win wars for. “don’t ever be sorry for chasing your happiness.”

he’d left three days later, bags packed, doing his best not to turn around and run back into your arms. yeonjun had been excited at first, really. he was back, after all, doing what he loved. he was back being happy.

it’s now, however, at 12:17 in the morning in london, england, palms digging into a bedspread that really isn’t soft enough, that yeonjun realizes that he’d been wrong then in that little cafe. that you, too, had been wrong. it’s with this in mind that he picks up his phone, dialing your number - call rates be damned.

“yeonjun?”

he sighs again, though it’s out of relief this time. he isn’t sure why he’d expected you to ignore his call, but it’s a relief that you’ve picked up nonetheless.

“i think i’m coming back,” he responds after a beat too many. you say nothing, and he’s sure that you’re waiting on an explanation. “i meant to chase my happiness, but i think i ran away from it instead.”

“are you… me? do you mean me?” yeonjun chuckles at this - really, truly laughs at how happily bewildered you sound. he nods adoringly before realizing that you can’t see him.

“yeah,” he says, smile evident through his words. “traveled the world not realizing my world was waking up next to me every morning.”

“...where are you right now?”

“london,” yeonjun responds, and he can almost feel your envy. “we’re coming here together, next time.”

“i’m only letting you back into our apartment if you bring me back a nice fridge magnet of big ben,” you state,  making your voice sterner than it ever really could be. yeonjun laughs again, and you join him this time. it’s as if nothing had ever changed.

maybe nothing had.

“i love you,” yeonjun says, quiet as can be, once your voices both soften.

“i love you too, jun,” you respond, and your voice is tinny and you sound rushed - he supposes you’ve realized that you’re going to miss your bus - but you’re as sincere as ever. yeonjun heart grows two sizes.

“i’ll see you in two days.” he says, with the finality of someone who’s already booked his tickets back. he hasn’t, of course - he hasn’t even opened up the airlines’ site on his phone yet. still, he knows that he’ll be back to you as soon as possible.

when it comes to you, yeonjun would never do something by halves.

“it’s another beginning,” you respond, and you hope that the happiness in your voice is evident to your boyfriend.

it is.

“go to sleep,” you continue, and yeonjun smiles internally at this.

“go to work,” he responds, and you laugh out loud.

“i’m about to,” you say, and then you sigh, but there’s no pain behind it. “two days?”

“i’ll email you my flight details,” he says, and you voice your understanding. before long you’ve hung up, citing work as the reason, and he lays back on his bed none-too-ceremoniously, phone pressed to his chest. he yawns, though his smile makes it difficult to do so.

he really does need to sleep, he decides.

he really does need to sleep, but not before he books a flight back home - back to you.

[who-is-olivia]

Track 4. Two Ghosts

Harry Styles x OC x Taylor Swift

Harry reunites with Olivia after he settles in a relationship with Taylor Swift. [4.5k]

Genre: angst, fluff

Warnings: substance abuse, mentions of panic attacks, mental health struggles, infidelity

January 2013

“I just left the keys with Nialler, mine and El’s, tomorrow we’ll come pick up the rest of my clothes” Louis explains over the phone while Harry looks at the New York landscape through snowy windows.

  After the successful tour, there was no more financial reason to share a flat with Lou, and before that there was not a good healthy climate to share it either. He felt terrible seeing him every day after they shared such intimate moments. They’re still close friends, just not as much as they used to be, and it hurts. He misses the days when they would play video games on the couch and diss each other’s clothing, he misses the companionship they shared. In fact, looking back to this time last year, there’s a lot of things he misses. His anonymity, his mum’s house, Oli...

  Boy, does he miss Oli.

  Few months after her first big hit debuted, launching her album and promoting their tour, she became too stressed. She felt the hate and the press lurking around her like vultures, she cried about small things, she smoked three packs a day, she became aloof and apathetic. One day, it was all too much.

  Since she decided to live with Frank her mother has shut her out, they haven’t been on speaking terms. Right after the tour, when her band started racing up the charts, a tabloid wrote an article with her mum spilling all of her life story. Oli’s always been very secretive about her family history, Harry knew the basics but she seldom talked about it. So one day she woke up and everybody, in the whole world, knew and judged her for it.

  Looking out the window, the New York landscape disappears and he’s back in her hotel room holding her by the shoulders, her eyes puffy and vague, her tear-soaked face was catatonic. She had been kneeling on the living room unable to move or talk for hours and it scared him. She was absolutely broken, and no amount of love declamations and tears were enough to bring her out of that loop.

  Harry took her to a mental institution that day and never saw her again, all he heard from Frank was that she went back home to make peace with her mother. That was back in September, now it’s January and he still haven’t heard from her, so he’s trying to move on. He’s been hanging out with Taylor, she’s good company – and, most importantly, a good distraction. They’re set to travel tomorrow and enjoy some well deserved vacation but he hasn’t packed swimsuits or anything, so he’s going out to buy some after he’s done with Lou.

“It’s alright mate”

“Okay, I’d hand it to you in person but I was thinking about taking El to meet my mum”

“Wow, that’s huge!” he smiles sadly, he never got to introduce Oli to his mum. Bet they’d get along just fine. “You think you’ll be back in time for rehearsals?”

“Can’t miss that, Simon’d just kick my arse”

He chuckles, “Right, see ya then”

“See ya” they both hang up.

  Although Taylor offered to host him at her private loft in Chelsea, Harry opted to book a hotel room on the Upper West Side of Manhattan, next to where Olivia used to live. So, when he goes out for a morning jog, he always walks past her building and the pub where she used to work. This morning, he packs up to go shopping and leaves the hotel, reaching a point where, if he makes a turn, he’ll reach the tube and go shopping right away, if he goes forward he’ll pass in front of Uncle Jim’s Pub, but he’ll have to walk another twenty minutes before he finds another station.

  It’s a pointless ritual, going over to Uncle Jim’s. She’s never there. But he can’t help that fear in his guts of missing an hour on the day where she might just be. So, despite all logic, he goes forward.

  He soldiers through the cold morning stomping over melted snow until he passes over the pub. He looks through the window and this time spots something odd, or rather, someone: a man in a dress sitting over the bar.

  He comes closer, rubbing the glass to see better. He spots Jim sitting on one of the tables, his signature cane beside him. They’re both looking at the same spot on stage but he can’t quite see it. Slowly, he opens the door and immediately hears the soft piano tiles playing something harmoniously crude but melodically so, so sweet.

  There she is, beautifully onstage playing the piano forte, her back perfectly straight, her signature braids are gone, her hair a small afro surrounding tanned cheeks. She looks sober and... peaceful, all her nervous agitation is gone, she looks healthy.

  He hides behind the bar, bumping into the portraits on the wall: Uncle Jim with Brian May and David Bowie, Oli and Frank sitting on Elton John’s knees, Paul McCartney watching her play the piano. He remembers Oli talking about uncle David and uncle Paul but he never saw it like this, her sweet toothless smile alongside some of the biggest rockstars in the world. She has a lot to live up to, maybe he didn’t realise that. He didn’t realise a lot of things.

  For a while, Oli was just the thrill of the chase, someone untouchable who graced him with her affection. But then they went on tour and suddenly she wasn’t just a fling, she was a friend who stood at the backstage every single show, who talked to him until late hours on the tour bus, she shared her most vulnerable side and he loved it, he loved her. Those stolen kisses and quick fucks became meaningful, they became friends then they became lovers. That’s why it was so hard to watch her crumble.

  The portrait he bumps smashes on the ground making them all turn, including Olivia.

  It’s like she’s seen a ghost. And so has he.

“Harry” she gasps, getting up from the stool. Jim and Frank both turn toward him with big salutary gestures.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean-“

“Oh, don’t worry! How’ve you been? It’s been a while!” Jim nods, unable to get up.

“Jim, we better give ‘em some room” Frank, always the expert on reading the room.

“No, no, no need, we’re going outside” she indicates for him to follow her out the door. Before she walks out she notices Frank’s weird looks, she sends one back signaling it’s alright in their own mental language and pushes Harry out the door.

  Harry is still appalled, trying to make sense of things while his eyes are assaulted by the winter morning’s sun. She pulls the door until it’s shut and, when she turns to leave, she finds herself being cornered against the glass by Harry. She stumbles back before being welcomed into his embrace.

He sighs in relief, feeling her hair tickling his cheek as it used to do. He can’t help but smile at the sensation of her body pressed against his and her gentle hands making their way to his back. “I missed you so much”

“I missed you too” she sighs through a smile. “I’m so sorry for the silence”

“I understand” he kisses the top of her head, “how’re you feeling?”

“Fulfilled, relieved... it’s like there’s a huge weight off my shoulders” she steps to his right, “You’re heading this way?”

“I- I don’t know”

“Jesus, Harry, let’s just walk” she mocks, “How are the boys?”

“They’re fine, Zayn and Perrie just moved in together”

“Nice” she swallows dryly, hadn’t she gone away maybe she and Harry would be living together.

“Niall is going out with someone, he won’t tell us who but we know” he chuckles, “we’re making bets on it, wanna join?”

“Sure” she replies, still thoughtful.

Noticing her discomfort, he hurriedly switches the subject, “I guess things with your mum were alright”

“It was fine, we just needed some quality time to put our thoughts in order. And Frank helped a lot, you know, getting her to know him made all the difference” she smiles earnestly, “He’s the fucking best, I couldn’t have done it without him”

“Blimey...”

“What?”

“I just... nothing, it’s silly”

“You’re silly all the time, tell me!” she taunts him with a smile.

“I already know what you’re going to say” he warns, “but sometimes I wish you were talking about me” he shrugs his shoulders.

“You’re such a-“

“-jelly baby, yeah I know!” she laughs, a laugh he was dying to hear.

“- such a jelly baby”

“Oli” he cuts that sweet sound, “I need to know... did you ever get to hear what I said to you the day you passed out?”

“No... sorry Haz, I just zoned out. What was it?”

“No, it’s nothing”

“What? Why are you so secretive today?” she continues to taunt.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t expect to meet a lot of people today, least of all you...” a thought crosses his mind, cutting his speech, “When did you arrive?”

“Just this morning, I got a night flight from Rio-“

“Were you going to call me? After all that happened?”

Olivia ponders for a moment, afraid of giving him an honest answer. He’s always been sincere, even if it hurt her, now it’s time to return the favour: “I don’t think so, Haz... It’s not because I don’t care about you or anything like that, it’s just...” she looks for the words but this time they’re hard to uncover, “I’m feeling fine now, but I can’t forget the fright I gave you. I don’t remember what you said or what was actually going on but I have a clear image of you just” she crosses her arms over her collarbones, “holding me so hard I almost choked, I can’t imagine how that felt to you... and I don’t want to put you through that again. I’m fine now but I don’t know how I’m gonna be tomorrow, I still feel the old me lurking just around the corner. Feeling fine is new territory to me, but I don’t know how you fit into this”

He nods, “Let me know when you do?”

She grins, “Of course! Yes, of course!”

  And then she does it again, hugs him like she used to, pressing her whole body against him and nestling her head on the crook of her neck. He wants to turn her and kiss her so bad, but he can’t do it. That’s what they used to be, not who they are.

“I better get back, Frank must be losing his shit... how long you’ll be around?”

“I’m leaving tomorrow, me and... hm... Taylor”

“Taylor?” she frowns. Fuck.

For all the tabloids and gossip websites, she has to hear it from him. Why can’t she just use her phone like a normal human being and read the fucking news? “Taylor Swift? We’ve been hanging out...”

“Oh...” she gasps in surprise.

“You didn’t say anything, I assumed-“

“No, it’s alright” her words don’t align with her face, “It’s ok Harry, really”

“You don’t seem ok”

“I’m just surprised, that’s all” she compensates with an awkward smile, “I’m happy for you”

“Thanks” he replies with a sour taste, he can feel when they’re not being honest to each other, in this cases cordiality is worse than just lying. Lying just hides something, cordiality shoves the thing in your face and acts like it’s not there.

“Oh, just in case I don’t get to see you anytime soon” she reaches into her sleeves and takes a colourful bracelet, “just a little souvenir from Rio, I was going to keep it in my bag but I thought I’d lose it”

“Thanks Oli, that’s lovely” he watches as she ties it around his wrist.

“Well it was great to see you, have a nice trip tomorrow!” she pecks his cheek and leaves.

  Just as she came, she went away. Not a moment with Oli ever feels wasted but they sure do feel short. Without any options, Harry goes on with his day chores which now include buying swim gear for a trip he doesn’t want to make anymore.

  He lifelessly picks random trunks and floral shirts, taking fewer than he’ll actually need then takes a cab to Taylor’s place. When he arrives the Chelsea flat, she’s reading a book on the couch, her perfect blond hair on a ponytail.

“Hey, stranger!” she looks over the backboard.

“Morning!” he comes over and kisses her temple, but she calls him back with a finger and presses her lips against his. “What’re you up to?”

“Not much, just finishing this” she shows him a copy of The Hunger Games, “I’m loving it. Everything’s already packed, I guess we’ll just wait around”

“I could use a nap, jet lag is driving me mad” he scoots over the couch and pulls himself a pillow, laying his head over Taylor’s lap. She rests her book over his chest while mindlessly playing with his fingers. While she’s distracted, he notices something about her face: even without any makeup, Taylor’s lips are still tinted red, which contrast beautifully with her stark blue eyes. Despite having a beauty of her own, she reminds him so much of Lou. For the second time today, he feels an uncomfortable void on his guts after remembering fondly someone he loved.

  He turns his gaze away, it hurts so bad to be haunted by these people who feel so close and vivid but at the same time feel like a distant memory, a ghost. He talked to Louis on the phone, he just saw Olivia on the flesh, Taylor is right in front of him caressing his hand but they feel so foreign. Maybe they’ve changed a lot ever since that idealised moment when they fell in love, maybe Harry’s the one who’s changed.

“Hey” she whispers, “what’s going on in your head?”

“Just thinking... do you still talk to the people you used to date?”

She chuckles at he spontaneous question, “Not on purpose, I always bump into them at these big events and of course everybody knows, so I have to be polite. If I even blink wrong the whole world will be like: Taylor Swift is just a bitter old hag”

“Come on, now”

“It’s true! If I talk to them, I’m fake, if I don’t talk to them, I’m rude, there’s no winning for us girls. You guys can do whatever you want!” she pokes his side, “If you see your ex and talk to them you’re oh, so polite and considerate, if you don’t talk you’re really discrete-“

“I get it” he nods in agreement. “But that’s not what I meant, it’s like... can you still be friends with people you used to be more than friends?”

“You and your weird questions” she mocks him lightly before sighing and finally answering: “It’s weird being friendly with someone you shared so much intimacy with”

“Yeah” he nods.

“ Just seeing them reminds me of something that I used to feel but I can’t talk about it, so I always end up tiptoeing around it and I... I hate it. I’m usually very straightforward but in these tight corners I never say what I really mean”

  He nods silently. If he could see Oli again, what would he say? There was so much he wanted to say, in fact he already said it but she wasn’t able to listen. It’s so frustrating...

  Taylor and him spend the day together lounging around, making out and napping. At some point they nap in a hammock, her body cuddled against his while the night falls outside. She sleeps very quietly while he doesn’t sleep at all, just stare at his new bracelet and ponders upon the last words Oli said today: ‘just in case I don’t get to see you anytime soon’. In a few weeks he’ll go on tour, her band split and they have no projects mapped out, when will they actually see each other again? On tour, they spent every day together except the ones when they’d be tired of each other and just spent the day apart. It’s so upsetting not knowing when he’ll see her again, that feeling just turns to a small pit of fear in his heart. What if his story with Oli is already over? It can’t be, he still has so much he wants to do, so many places to take her.

  But coming back from his daydream he finds himself laying with another girl. Shouldn’t he be planning things with her? For fuck’s sake, they’re about to take a romantic trip together! Still, looking ahead to his future, he can see nobody but Olivia. She’s left such a gap in his present and in his future he can’t stand the possibility of not taking a chance.

  Trying his best not to disturb her, Harry gets up from the hammock and walks to the kitchen. The fridge light washes the room white as he finds the rest of the wine bottle, there’s just two gulps left so he decides to take the whole thing. When he closes the fridge, surprisingly the room doesn’t go dark as the moon shines furiously through the windows. Another memory hits him: when he and Oli hid on the roof of their hotel in Phoenix. She took a bottle of rosé and a few blankets, cuddling with him while trying to remove the cork. She said “I hope you like a good rosé, I hate red wine”, and ever since then he lost the habit of drinking red wine... until today.

  As if to defy her memory he drinks the wine anyway but somehow the taste feels repugnant. Even now, she still haunts him. He looks over to Taylor and an enormous guilt befalls him. She is incredible, a good company, but his heart still beats for somebody else. He hits his head against the fridge in shame but it won’t change how he feels... so he decides to seek counselling.

He calls Zayn at least three times but not even a friend in need can dissuade him from deep slumber. So, he heads to the balcony and calls his second option, the one he wants to avoid but can’t anyways: “Hey curly, what’s going on? It’s a bit late here”

“I know Lou, I’m so sorry I just couldn’t help it”

“It’s alright, I’m up already. What’s going on?”

“I saw Oli today, she’s back in New York” he blurts at once, looking back at the balcony door to make sure Taylor’s still asleep.

“That’s great man, cheers-“

“Yeah, except I’m with Taylor now and I can’t stop thinking about Oli”

The line goes quiet for a moment. “Oh... that’s bad”

“I don’t know what to do, mate”

“Harry... I should tell you to stay with Taylor, you know, ‘cause she’s a nice gal and she helped you out of a tough place, but...” he smiles sadly, “I know if I tell you this is the right thing to do you’ll do it, even if it hurts you”

Harry snorts, “I probably would”

“Exactly, so I can’t tell you that. Listen mate, I... I fucking adore you, you’re one of my best mates and I know what happened between us hurt you”

“It’s alright now, Lou”

“I know it is, but I don’t want to be that wanker to tell you ‘just forget your feelings and do what you have to do’, you know?”

He chuckles, “Sure mate”

“See? So, in my humble opinion, you should go for Oli. I know you’re crazy ‘bout that lass... and, you know, we won’t get everything we want in life, specially us if we keep the band thing going. The least you can do is have fun with someone you love”

“Thanks, Lou”

“Anytime curly... ‘though if you can call a bit earlier”

“Right, right... bye mate”

  Olivia tosses and turns on her bed. The flat is so quiet when Frank’s not home, it’s unnerving, specially when she’s emotionally wavering. She gets up and away from her tormented thoughts and searches for one of her vinyls, she could do with a bit of music to drown it all out. She finds ‘Rumors’ from Fleetwood Mack and places it on the speaker, swinging to the melody of the first track and letting the tune fill her ears. She starts to assemble a cigarette while keeping a distant eye on her phone, she’s been trying to avoid it ever since the breakdown but seeing Harry today was very triggering. A spark of curiosity hits her but she refrains, last time she spent too much time on her phone she ended up in a psychiatric hospital.

  She finishes rolling her cigarette and lights it, getting up and singing along. It’s a good song, but not good enough to distract her from the temptation of her phone.

“Fuck it” she reaches the phone and searches for Twitter. Turns out Frank deleted it so she has to download it again, letting the anxiety take her reins as nervous tears cloud her view. Sighing in frustration, she logs in her secret account and searches for Taylor and Harry. “So stupid, so fucking stupid” she puts it down.

  Oli takes a long drag, holds it for a while then let go, letting one single tear fall down in self pity. Unnerved, she takes the phone back. She looks at the search results: Harry and Taylor walking down Central Park with Baby Lux, kissing after her midnight show in Times Square, talking at a restaurant. And of course, where there is a new girlfriend there will be comparisons:

@directionfever: Thank god he’s moving on from his drug dealer.

@bluejayway: my boy Harry looking like a prince with that new chick, he finally getting what he deserves

@styyles_xo: That’s the smile of someone who ain’t playing nurse anymore and’s finally living <3

@larryxx: taylor aint all that but at least harry is free from that fucking pr relationship

  Oh yes, the PR argument. Of course Harry and Olivia were arranged by a group of public relations managers in order to promote her career, as if she couldn’t possibly fall in love with him just for the sake of it. And boy did she fall graciously in love with him. It felt so strange seeing him this morning and just not squeeze his cheeks and give him a kiss, she didn’t even feel like the same person. Now he’s going away and all she wants is to fuck all logic and reason and just get him back like nothing ever happened. But of course, everything happened. She made a choice to stay away after she came back, now she has to deal with the most uncomfortable consequences

Before she can fall deeper into that self-doubt abyss, there are knocks on the door. “Frank? Did you forget the keys?” she asks wiping her tears.

  She opens it to find Harry.

“Haz?” all coherent thoughts evade her, “W-What’re you doing here, it’s past midnight already-“

“Did you, hm... did you see the moon?” she frowns at him but not completely dismissive, “It looks just like that night... bloody hell Oli, do you remember that night? On the roof?”

“Yes, I remember” she chuckles.

“If I close my eyes I can see it clear as day, I remember every single day I spent with you clear as day, it’s so clear I can almost touch it, love” he sighs shyly.

“Harry...” she gasps.

“The first night on the bus! Do you remember it?”

“Harry I had a breakdown, not amnesia!” she laughs before noticing the typical agitation on her hallway and the neighbors paying attention to their exchange, “Shit, come on in”

“What I’m trying to say, the best way I can is... I have this very vivid memory of you and I thought that’s all I’d ever have. But when I saw you this morning... I thought we still had a chance” he reaches out for her, before slowly recoiling at her lack of response, sitting at the couch’s arm rest. “Please say something?”

She quirks her head, “Is that Frank’s shirt?”

He looks down at the plain white t-shirt and frowns, “This?”

“The one he gave to me and then I gave it to you?”

“Hm... yeah, did you hear-“

“I did” she smiles shortly, “I just don’t know what to say, I mean I was just here bawling my eyes out thinking I’d never get to see you again and all of a sudden you’re here saying all these things!” her voice cracks. She stops, takes a deep breath and continues: “I’m sorry, I don’t know what to say”

“You could say: ‘I’m really, really in love with you and I want to try again’” he mimics her lower pitched-voice while pulling her closer by the hem of her shirt. She giggles at his little tantrum, pacing closer until his chin rests between her breasts. Without another word, she strokes his curly locks of hair and holds him close agains her bosom. He nuzzles a straight line from her sternum to her collarbone, feeling just a tinge of her cologne. Every crawling touch feels like he’s desperately trying to remember how it feels to have her heartbeat singing in his ear.

  He pulls her shirt collar down and the loose fabric slides revealing a bit more of skin and a couple more tattoos. He runs his lips over it, feeling the sweet taste of her skin just as it used to be. Looking up, he sees her eyes lightly shut, her parted lips lit by the moonlight that invades the living room. He remembers when having her like this was enough, when he felt truly alive. Olivia is still everything he really needs, the rest is the rest. She’s not a ghost, she’s not a reverie, she looks, sounds, tastes, smells and feels so real to him, it’s impossible to desire any other incarnation of her other then the very present one.

“Haz” she sighs in a whimper, pushing him away a bit. She tries but she can’t escape his looming eyes. “I know I have no right to ask anything from you... “ her courage suddenly evades her, “but I don’t want you to go”

He cups her cheeks in a small comforting gesture, “I won’t go anywhere”

“What about Taylor? She must be so upset with me”

“Believe me, you’re not the one she’s upset with, it’s ok” he dismisses it, leaning in to kiss her lips passionately. “I’m right where I want to be” she smiles and kisses him back.

<< Previous | Next >>

Masterlist

[punkscowardschampions]

Rio & Buster

Rio: Do you think I need to report or tip the deliveryman for taking advantage of the unlocked front door? Rio: can't decide Buster: Are you sure it was unlocked? Rio: Well I was sure I locked it actually but apparently not Rio: Indie also swears she didn't forget so must've been me Buster: Unless she swore on her stash there's no reason to take it as gospel, babe Rio: True Rio: thanks anyway 😚 they look really pretty in the kitchen window Buster: Hold on, I didn't send you anything Buster: What kind of delivery was it? Rio: Yeah, tbh, I didn't think it was you Rio: but I was hoping Rio: [the picture] Rio: they look kinda cheap Rio: cannot work out who they're from Buster: Is the address right? Maybe they're for next door but yours was open Buster: Fuck it, throw them out and I'll replace them for you Rio: There isn't one, there's like nothing Rio: Maybe Drew's planning to give 'em to someone Buster: Ask him Buster: Could also be one of Indie's friends, you said they were cheap, like Rio: Awh, how sweet Rio: yeah, I'll ask Rio: how are you anyway? Buster: Better before I was worried about your home security Rio: Don't be Rio: You've never forget to lock up before? Rio: Be Drew that'd be 😥 Buster: Course not Buster: My parents would kill me Rio: Guess you have more stuff to steal Rio: luckily we've just been gifted something so that's as good as you can hope I suppose Buster: No bullshit, are you okay? Rio: It just shook me up a bit Rio: but now I've had time to calm down Buster: You can stay here any time and for any reason Buster: You know that Rio: I know Rio: I promise I don't need that though Rio: even though I miss you Rio: wish you were here Buster: I miss you too Buster: I'll come and see you this weekend Buster: Move some shit around Rio: Can you? Rio: don't if you can't Buster: I can Buster: And I want to Rio: I wish they were from you Rio: not an unsubtle hint Buster: I don't need any hints Buster: I just ordered some Buster: But we can track the delivery on these, like Rio: I love you Rio: see who gets here first, you or the flowers Buster: I love you Buster: But they better or else we are gonna have to have a word with whoever the fuck delivers shit to your place Rio: 😂 Rio: its not quite that rough that the postie throws it and runs Buster: Says you Rio: What does that mean? 😏 Buster: It means I've only got your word for it since I can't exactly forgo the hotel and sleep over Rio: You'd prefer your hotel, I'm not gonna oversell it that hard, like Buster: I ain't gonna deny that either Buster: Unless you stayed there and left me alone at the hotel Rio: That just ain't gonna happen Rio: never ever Rio: least no one here is really keeping that close a check on where I am Rio: much easier Buster: Yeah fuck knows where I'm gonna say I am if anyone asks Buster: I'll obviously think of something as per but the standard excuses are gonna start sounding like they are exactly that one of these days Rio: I know Rio: be easier if visiting your sister was a little more in question Rio: but that would require actually doing that so Buster: As much as I love you, babe Rio: I know Rio: she's settled well though Buster: No need to try and make any friends when she's got Junior, is there? Buster: He more or less guarantees her an easier life Rio: Alright for some Rio: lucky he's such a nerd they let him skip Buster: Exactly Rio: Why you gotta be so overachieving, huh Rio: I'm so bored without you Buster: I didn't get put forward a year, I'm clearly not working hard enough actually Rio: Nah, you just don't have crazy genius brain Rio: which I think is probably a good thing Rio: and your school would never, doing everything by the 100 year old book Buster: Cheers Buster: For the compliment and the reminder Rio: You know you're still going to get everything you want Buster: Course I am Buster: I've earned it despite my lack of a genius level IQ Rio: Are you mad I called you not a genius? Buster: Like you said, it's a good thing Buster: Fuck being a weirdo Rio: Bit rude Buster: Come on Rio: You don't need to call anyone a weirdo if you're not mad Buster: You know what I mean Buster: I'm perfect as I am Rio: Okay Buster: Don't get mad Buster: Just 'cause I ain't Rio: 🙄 I'm not Rio: shh Buster: Convincing Rio: Well I will be if you keep going on Buster: Behave Rio: Come over and make me Mr. Perfect 😏 Buster: Friday afternoon Buster: Soon as school's over and done with Rio: 😾 I guess I'll behave then then Buster: Are you gonna be perfect? Rio: Aren't I always? 😇 Buster: You know you are Buster: But you also know I wanna hear you promise Rio: I promise I'll be perfect for you Buster: Good girl Rio: Buster Buster: Rio Rio: You're so rude Rio: distracting me Buster: What are you doing that needs your full attention? Rio: I'm trying to cook Buster: I'll leave you to focus then, yeah? Buster: Wouldn't wanna be even ruder or anything Rio: Don't you dare Buster: You know I always dare Rio: Oh, so we're playing now? Buster: Yeah Rio: And you aren't playing nice Buster: I didn't make any promises to be Rio: Me either Rio: 'til Friday Buster: You can't help yourself though Buster: You're an angel Rio: For my sins Rio: and yours Buster: What sins are those? Rio: If I need to remind you, then its really been way too long since we last did a visit Buster: Or I need to remind you how heavenly everything we've ever done together is Rio: I wouldn't mind that reminder Buster: Call me Rio: [does] Buster: Tell me the kitchen ain't on fire Rio: It ain't Rio: Dinner is gonna be late Rio: but we'll all survive Buster: Well I'm not sorry about that Buster: I've gotta wait til Friday to have dinner with you Rio: I can't wait to cook for you Buster: Don't make me miss you more Rio: You wait 'til I have my own place proper Rio: treat you like such a 👑 all day every day Buster: I'm not sure I can wait, baby Buster: Jesus Rio: Next time your parents are away, tell me and I'll get the next flight Rio: never guaranteeing a free house here but we can play then Buster: Hold on, I'll check the calendar Buster: [a date] Rio: It's done Buster: Easily Rio: then when you go uni we can be together all the time Buster: Every day Rio: Can't we just be 18 now? Buster: I swear I feel older than that already Rio: Me too Rio: its crazy we've been doing all this over 2 years now Rio: never mind everything else Buster: Yeah Buster: Looking at their calendar only proves that my parents treat me like I'm older when it suits 'em Rio: Good for parties Rio: good for me and you Rio: but it must feel so big when its just you in that house Rio: my poor baby Buster: Technically not good enough though 'cause I can't move out or change schools Buster: But I ain't complaining Buster: Especially when I've got you to keep me company if it gets lonely Buster: Just one call away, like Buster: And like you said, the parties and visits mean I rarely am alone anyway Buster: We'd definitely have gotten closer to getting caught if I had different parents as well Rio: It won't last forever, even if it feels like it Rio: best place for you to be right now Rio: and I'll always be here Rio: no matter what Rio: sometimes I forget no one knows Rio: when I'm talking to you Rio: but then its painfully obvious again when we have to hide it Buster: I know Buster: Me too Buster: But that doesn't have to be forever either Buster: We can tell 'em when we're older Rio: We'll have to Rio: I can't just suddenly decide I wanna move to America when you happen to be going too Buster: And when I propose, you won't be able to hide a diamond that big Rio: You can't just say things like that Buster: Don't you wanna marry me? Rio: Of course I do Buster: Good Rio: You really want to marry me Rio: and be with me forever Buster: Of course I do Rio: Buster, I love you so much Rio: how are you real Buster: I could ask you the same question Buster: But I reckon whatever you think makes me unreal does the same to you Rio: You're just Rio: I'm just so glad you're in this as much as I am Rio: we want the same things Buster: I've never half arsed anything in my life, I'm not about to start with the most important part of it Rio: That's why I love you Rio: you're so dedicated and passionate and Rio: fuck Buster: It's for you as much as it is me Buster: I ain't forgotten the future you want Buster: I'm gonna give you everything Rio: Just marry me now Rio: Jesus Buster: Not until you can openly wear the ring every single day Rio: Okay Rio: deal Buster: I'll get you something else to wear in the meanwhile Buster: A ring that's not so obvious Rio: Baby Buster: I fucking love you Buster: There needs to be another word for it that's more descriptive or whatever Buster: Just more everything Rio: I get it Rio: I get you, you get me Rio: There's nothing I wanna do where I don't want you with me Rio: other people don't even register, never mind compare Buster: I feel that too Buster: Since I was a kid Rio: No one else could hold my attention like you Buster: 'Cause there's nobody else like me Rio: Not even close Buster: You won't ever regret choosing me Buster: I'll make sure you don't Rio: I know Rio: but it was never a choice really Rio: not in a bad way just in a Rio: I don't even know Rio: like we was meant to be from the start Buster: I know Buster: Like you said, we're the same in that and loads of other shit Rio: Plus you're the hottest boy to ever walk the planet so obviously, you're mine 😋 Buster: Yeah, that too, like Buster: But even if you weren't the most beautiful girl I've ever seen, I'd still want you to be mine Buster: 'Cause you're the best in so many other ways as well Buster: And I'll never be over how perfect you are or what you make me feel like Rio: Stop being perfect and sincere when I'm just trying to live over here Buster: We've established I can't Buster: Or won't Rio: How do you do that Rio: cheer me up Rio: make me forget Buster: 'Cause I always get what I want Buster: And I want that for you Rio: You're the best Buster: I know Buster: So I deserve you Rio: What do you wanna do when you're here? Rio: Aside from have me be perfect, obviously Buster: We need to get you a ring, of course Buster: Unless you want me to surprise you with it Rio: 😁😁😁 Buster: If that's what you actually look like, show me Rio: [the most excited selfie] Buster: Baby Rio: Daddy Rio: tbh Buster: Tell me what you wanna do when I'm there Buster: Aside from saying that again, obviously Rio: 😏 and again and again Rio: Hmm Rio: just be with you Rio: I don't care what we're doing, as long as its what we wanna do Rio: makes a change from my routine Buster: Well that's the least I can do Buster: Don't worry Rio: I'm never worried Rio: not when I'm with you Buster: Good Buster: You're safe with me Buster: Even if you forget to lock every door Rio: I won't Rio: I'm not a total idiot Buster: I know how smart you are, babe Rio: 🙄 Buster: Don't Buster: I'm serious Rio: Its whatever Rio: I don't need to be smart Rio: just work it Buster: You are though regardless Rio: Whatever you say, babe Buster: You gonna listen to whatever I say? Rio: 🙉🤭 Buster: Alright then Rio: Awh, you mad at me? Buster: Is that what you're trying to do? Rio: Maybe Rio: has it worked? Buster: Try harder Rio: 😤😠💪 Buster: Come on Rio: . Rio: That's me not replying, 'cos nothing makes you madder than being ignored Buster: Well played Rio: Thank you Rio: If I do it for real will you call me again? Buster: How could I resist? Rio: Don't Rio: only me who's gotta resist talking to you Rio: which is really really hard Buster: I'll make your efforts feel worth it Rio: 😣 Buster: I promise Rio: Okay Rio: I can do it Buster: Prove it Buster: [calls]

[heavenslastcrush]

The Legend of Joan

I recently had an incredible opportunity to travel to Antarctica over the New Year’s holiday on the National Geographic Orion. The trip was an unbelievable experience full of adventure, excitement, inspiration, self-discovery… even a little bit of romance.

Traveling and beginning a New Year in a new country has become quite the ritual of mine. It began in 2015 when I went to Australia with my boyfriend. We celebrated New Year’s 2016 on a yacht on the Sydney Harbor, right between the Harbor Bridge and the Opera House.

By the time the end of 2016 came around that boyfriend had become an ex-boyfriend, but I was determined to have just as amazing of a time despite being newly single. I thought about the last time that I was single and really happy, and it occurred to me that it was when I was living in London. So naturally, I needed to return. That year, I went to France & England with a friend I had lived and studied abroad with while in South Kensington. Said friend was also recently single, and also needed to get away. We counted down to midnight and welcomed the beginning of 2017 on a yacht on the Thames.

For New Year 2018, I needed to one-up myself again and venture to Asia – so I traveled to Thailand and Cambodia and rang in the holiday on the Marriott rooftop in Bangkok, overlooking the city while literally being on top of the world.

Since my traveling tradition also seemed to include being on a different continent, my initial New Year 2019 plan was to travel to Brazil & Argentina. I had an entire itinerary all mapped out – I would first spend a couple of days in Salvador, then venture over to Rio. Next I would travel down to Buenos Aires to actually celebrate New Year’s, and then spend a few more days at Iguazu Falls. I would bookend my trip with about 4 days in Patagonia.

I thought I was so clever, planning out such a great vacation.

Funny how life happens while you are busy making plans.

It turns out that I couldn’t find anyone to go with me on this adventure. I asked my parents, siblings, old friends, new friends… I even put a message on Facebook to see if I could get any random connections to join me. But alas, my efforts were fruitless.

It was critical that I still go somewhere, but I wasn’t quite brave enough to venture to Brazil solo. I typically have no issues traveling alone, but everyone that I have ever talked to about Brazil was in agreement that it is not super safe for anyone to travel to, let alone by one’s lonesome, and especially as a single female.

Where could I go that would be safe? That would still put me on a new continent? That I could travel to alone?

I googled a map of the world. I revisited the list of countries I’ve already explored on my “Been” app. And, as I was sitting there (admittedly at the office, being distracted by this sometime in early-October, which is super late in the game to be planning an international excursion, by the way), I glanced at the very bottom of this Google map image at a thin strip of white with a small area jutting out.

Antarctica?

Hmm…

Well, it was on my bucket list to visit all 7 continents before I died. I guess it would make sense to try to go to Antarctica now while I’m still young and could tolerate small amounts of cold.

I started Googling more about the continent.

Population?: 4K.

Yeah, that seems pretty safe.

Photos?

Oh, well these look pretty cool. Lots of penguins. Penguins are legit.

“Alright”, I thought, “I guess I could do Antarctica”. Next I needed to figure out how to get there.

Initially, I wanted to visit the tip and see things like Deception Island. But, I also wanted to go to the South Pole. Just to say I’ve been there.

Turns out, you can’t really fly into Antarctica. (Well, I suppose you can, if you are a billionaire and really bored). It also turns out, that there isn’t all that much in the middle of the continent, and that the most interesting animals and sights are actually on the edges. Cruises were recommended galore.

As with any other Google search I always begin with “Best [insert whatever it is I want to do/explore/see/etc.]”.

So, I type in “Best Antarctica Cruises” and scroll down until I find a link where some company isn’t trying to sell me something.

I found a Conde Nast Traveller article that gave me all kinds of details on what to look for in an Antarctica Cruise. (Here’s the link if you are interested: https://www.cntraveller.com/article/best-antarctica-cruises). In this article, they recommend either the National Geographic Orion or the Silver Explorer.

“I can be on a National Geographic ship?!” SOLD. HERE’S ALL OF MY MONEY.

I’m totally kidding, I did a little more research first.

I found that National Geographic actually had two ships at the recommended size, with reputable crews, Zodiac boats on board, etc. One was the National Geographic Orion. The other was the National Geographic Explorer.

Both were fully booked.

But, I sent an inquiry to Lindblad Expeditions anyway (Lindblad & Nat Geo are in a partnership together for these expeditions) to see if these were actually fully booked, or what my chances would be to get on this ship in two months. I also wanted to know more about pricing.

The short version of this part is that a single cabin costs a small fortune. But, there was an option to share a cabin if I were willing, at a reduced rate. There weren’t any shared cabins available, but they would put me on a waiting list.

I like money, so I asked them to put me on the waiting list. And also, to please let me know if there was any way to obtain more of a discount.

A couple of weeks later, a shared cabin became available. However, when I got this notification, I was in San Jose at Twitch Con 2018. I was pretty distracted by how awesome that experience was, and I didn’t pay the cabin fee (which they require you to pay the full fare within 24 hours) in time and lost out on that cabin.

When I got back to New Jersey, I was crushed that I missed out on the opportunity. I called the company to see if they could put me back on the waiting list again, spoke to a lovely woman named Catalina, and as luck would have it another shared cabin had just become available.

BUT, this cabin cost 10% more than the previous one.

“So, Ms. Horner, would you like the cabin?”, she asked me.

I tried to see if there was any possible way to get it at a discounted rate, or if she thought another cabin at the lower rate would become available again.

“I really don’t think so, this expedition is departing in less than six weeks. It’s unlikely that passengers will cancel as they are out of the time period where they would receive any sort of refund. So, would you like the cabin?”, Catalina pressed again.

After the deepest breath of my life, I responded “Yes, I would, please.”, scurried over to get my wallet, and made the largest single transaction I’ve ever completed in my life. (Seriously, I could have bought a car for less).

“Is there anything else I can do for you today, Ms. Horner?”, Catalina asked.

“Actually, I know you can’t tell me the exact demographics of passengers on the ship. But, are you able to tell me if there are any solo travelers around my age that will be on board?”

“Actually”, she began, “because this expedition is taking place over the holiday there are many families going. We expect more of a diverse age range than usual.”

I thanked Catalina and got off the phone with her.

I was going to Antarctica.

In the weeks leading up to the trip, I had assumed that my roommate would be geriatric and feeble. I knew it would be a female, but I thought it would be some little old lady, maybe on the edge of death, that wouldn’t be able to use her camera or a computer and that would be up all hours of the evening doing whatever the elderly do in the middle of the night.

Fast forward to December 26, 2018. I’ve made it to Santiago, have already spent a few days exploring the area, and am now at Hotel Santiago which is the National Geographic-commissioned hotel where all of the passengers are staying before leaving the next morning to Ushuaia on the charter flight.

When I arrived, there was a small reception of cocktails and hors d’oeuvres taking place for the passengers. I met a few folks including Mack, a lawyer from Baton Rouge, LA (who would later ultimately be my next-door cabin neighbor); Peter, a Scottish man who was part of the staff on the expedition and one of the divers on-board; and Tia, a beautiful entrepreneur from England.

I thought this would be as good of a time as any to try to meet my roommate, but alas, she was no where to be found.

After the reception, I needed to rearrange my luggage so I went to the hotel room. At this point I hadn’t streamed in a few days and knew I would have a stable internet connection so I decided to stream a bit.

Right in the middle of the stream, that’s when I met Joan.

Joan.

What can I even say about Joan?

Well, she was definitely old. 81 in fact. But, from the second I met her, I could tell this was no ordinary lady. And while she may have been “old” in age, she was anything but old in spirit or energy.

Joan is fearless.

Joan is a badass.

Joan is my spirit animal.

Joan is my role model.

Joan is my adopted grandmother.

Joan is one of my best friends.

Throughout my trip, I spent a lot of time with Joan. Not only were we roommates, but we also shared several meals and several drinks together. Here’s some of what I learned about her:

·         She lives in California.

·         She got married when she was 21 years old, and had a long 49 year marriage.

·         She has two daughters, and one grandson.

·         She was formerly an accountant.

·         Her husband passed away several years ago.

·         She takes college classes! (Over 7 per term in fact, which is more than most college kids!)

·         She has traveled to over 70+ countries.

But of all the things I learned about Joan, it all pales in comparison to what I learned from Joan.

Joan was one of the brightest lights on the ship. By the time we were leaving Ushuaia, she knew just about everyone on board, and everyone new her. I feel like she and I had this in common, but it was a great reminder, that no matter how old you get, or how successful you become, you should never be above saying “hello” and seeking out genuine connections with those around you. Relationships make the world go-round.

I mentioned this already before, but it’s worth reiterating: Joan was a fearless badass. Her attitude towards life was incredible. There was one point on the trip where we had the opportunity to jump into the Southern Ocean. (In case you are wondering, the water was a balmy 34*F.) There were people of all ages on this trip, but only about half of the people on the trip actually leapt in. Joan was of them. While I heard countless people talking about how “crazy” jumping in was, or their fear of “freezing up”, “losing their breath”, “going into shock”, etc. I heard Joan overwhelming with enthusiasm about the opportunity. At one point, another lady on the trip, probably in her late 30’s or early 40’s asked Joan if she was concerned about getting hurt by jumping in. Joan’s calm response was “Well, if that happens, then my kids can have an early inheritance, but I’m going in”. Badass.

This woman then proceeded to try to talk Joan out of it a bit, and Joan just shook that notion off and headed to the stern where we were all jumping.

Believe it or not, Joan actually jumped in before I did. I wanted her to go first, because I wanted to be able to watch it happen. (And by this point I was so enamored with her, that if heaven-forbid something did happen, I would have dived in after her). I started a cheer before she dove, and 100 passengers all chanted along in unison with me “JOAN! JOAN! JOAN!”.

Right before she dove in our expedition leader, Doug, pulled her aside and said “If you can’t pull yourself out, don’t jump in.”

I saw her hesitate, just for a second. I could see the wheels turning in her head. Thinking about whether or not she would have the strength to climb up the ladder afterwards. A second was all that look lasted for.

“I can do it. I’m going to do it.”

And then she jumped.

81 year old badass, all the way in the Southern Ocean.

You know that feeling you might get when your favorite sports team wins the Super Bowl? Or the World Cup? That’s how I felt watching Joan pull herself out of the ocean. I was so floored by her. Badass, I’m telling you.

In that singular instance, I learned so much from Joan. I learned that you are never too old to be fearless. That you must always believe in yourself. And, that sometimes, you just have to take a leap, even when other people doubt your abilities. Because taking those risky leaps, lead to great experiences, and even better stories.

As Joan and I spent more time together, she became one of my best girlfriends. We would come back to the room in between lectures, or after dinner, and just gossip about guys on the ship, crazy stories from the day, or how ridiculous people are.

I swear Joan got more action and romance on the ship than just about anyone that ever sailed on the National Geographic Orion.

One evening, I made it back from dinner before Joan did and was in the bathroom when she came in yelling (rather loudly for a little old lady, might I add), “HEATHER, I HAVE SOMETHING TO TELL YOU!”

Now, there was this guy on the ship, and I thought he was pretty attractive or whatever, so I thought she was going to tell me something about him, but was a little bit puzzled as to why she was this excited about whatever it was.

I came out of the bathroom in a hurry. “What?”, I said, “What happened?! What’s going on?!”

“I just got proposed to!”

“Wait… WHAT?!”

Joan just stood there staring at me, eyes wide, with a big smile. This was the look of a perfect blend of shock, amusement, and hysteria.

“By who?”, I questioned.

“ROD!!”

“Who’s Rod?!”, I questioned again.

“That old man!”

Ahh. I knew the one she was referring to. There was an old man on the ship who was business partners with Tia. He was 76, from England and wildly successful in his career.

“Wait, was he serious?”, I asked.

“Well, I don’t know. He sounded serious.”, Joan replied.

“Did he like get down on one knee or anything?”

“No, he just asked me from the far side of the dining room table.”

“Well, what did you say?!”, I asked. I really couldn’t tell if her tone was excitement from being newly engaged or shock at how ridiculous and preposterous such an inquiry was from someone she had only met a few days prior.

You know those times when you ask someone a question, and their reply is a firm indicator that your question was utterly absurd because they reply not only with their voice, but their full entity? This was one of those times.

“I said ‘NO!’, OF COURSE!!”

I couldn’t help but hysterically laugh. Here was my roommate, 81 years old, shining gem of the Orion, fearless badass, of course she would be getting proposed to.

“Well, I don’t know, Joan! Maybe this could be your second chance at love or something. But, that wasn’t a very good proposal.”, I managed to say in between gasping for air between chuckles.

“Listen, I am too old to be training another man. I don’t have time for all that.”

I erupted again.

Oh, Joan. You slay.

In that moment, I learned from Joan that independence is ageless, and no matter how old you get: you don’t need no man. (**triple snap, z-formation**) Sometimes I wish those trolls in Twitch chat egging me on about a boyfriend could spend 5 minutes with Joan. I think she could whip them into shape.

At the very end of the trip, once we started to head back to Ushuaia from Antarctica, Joan had booked a massage in the Wellness Center. We had a pretty chill day full of lectures, parsing through photos, and just enjoying the company of each other and all of our new friends on the ship.

The following day Joan’s back was bothering her a little bit. We wondered if it was because of a rather rocky Drake Passage the prior evening, all the hiking during the trip, or something else entirely.

After lunchtime, Joan found me in the room as I was swapping out my camera memory cards. “I got a massage.”, she told me.

Now, Joan is pretty sharp. I had never had to tell her anything twice, and she always remembered everything I told her. So, I was a bit puzzled as to why she was telling me again about her massage.

“I know”, I replied. “Yesterday morning… or, did you get another one?”

“I got a massage from Ian.”, Joan said with a sly smile.

Ahh, yes, Ian. Ian was the hotel manager on the ship. A tall, handsome, proper gentleman from South Africa.

Joan continued, “Now, if he proposed, that might be something to consider.”

Cracking me up again.

Even then, I learned from Joan, that while independence is ageless, so is romance. You can have either, or you can have both. But, the beauty in it is that you get to choose.

I was with Joan for 12 days. In those 12 days, we grew a deep and very special bond.

Joan taught me many things, but probably the greatest lesson that she taught me, or at least reminded me of, was that there is SO MUCH to live for, no matter your age or status in life, and that you can find friendship and family anywhere you go. So, always be kind to those around you, because you just might meet someone that touches your soul and that will remain a treasured part of you forever.

Joan, I love you, chica.

[judeonthemove]

One Hundred And Nine Beds

We loved Ecuador so much we stayed an extra day. Although that's not strictly true, it sounds much better than: despite having a bulletproof plan for getting to the airport, arriving there four hours ahead of our flight, and sitting for two hours at what was initially promoted as the correct gate, we somehow conspired to miss our flight. We still have no idea when they changed the gate, why we didn't notice, or what on earth happened to their customer service announcements. Tiredness, relaxation and misplaced trust lulled us into false sense of security and we were rewarded with a monumental fuck up and no hint of an apology. There are few things you want to experience less at a foreign airport than the icicle stab in your guts of realising you are stuck in a territorial no-man's land, on the wrong side of a continent, facing a temporal and financial haemorrhage that you have to resolve in another language. There are the immediate practical problems to deal with of course, but also the wave of humiliation and self-recrimination. How on earth did we manage to make their mess into our problem? Staff members trooped us off around the airport getting our exit stamps annulled, and down to the basement where our rucksacks lay unceremoniously dumped by a door next to the tarmac. Just to underline our misdemeanours the narcotics police then proceeded to dismantle our bags. It was surreal and strangely violating to see your sorry pile of belongings through a stranger's eyes; that the backbone of your life for ten months is nothing but crap. Given that we weren't drug smugglers, we were allowed to proceed with our walk of shame back through security and baggage reclaim before facing the inevitable at the airline ticket desk. Mercifully the woman on duty had fluent English and quickly reassured us that for the bargain price of a lost day and $198 we could still get to Rio de Janeiro. Painful, but nothing like as wounding as I'd feared. There was nothing but a web address to consult about our complaints, and we were sent off into the night.

Reluctant to bankrupt ourselves further and urgently feeling in need of some control we found a nearby town on the map, jumped on a local bus, and hustled down a dark, desolate road in search of accommodation. Our hunch that anywhere that close to an airport would feature hostals was correct and we holed up for the night, spending our last few dollars on pizza and beer, and hurriedly trying to make contact with our hotel in Rio. It was a prime case of sod's law that having decided to blow the accommodation budget on our final lodgings (a whole £30 a night, woooooooh!), we wantonly discarded a night of our booking. So here we are, back at Quito airport, paranoidly sat below the departures board at our supposed gate. Three hours should do it today.

...

Shortly after dawn we were hurtling through the streets of Rio on a transfer bus, astonished at seeing a huge high rise city again. Rio was covered in simple black graffiti tags at street level and at impossible heights all over tower blocks, bridges, and industrial buildings. The city had the appearance of having been infected with a rash of kanji. Delivered just a block from our hotel, we weaved around encampments of rough sleepers. At six in the morning it was already hot, and the bracing smell of human waste and desperation competed with the tropical plants of the park. While we might have been late, at least we had a bed to sleep in and a home to go back to. The kindly night receptionist was waiting for us and pointed out that the breakfast buffet had just opened. A quality breakfast was one of our pre-requisites when deciding where to stay so there was quite a weight of expectation upon it. Still wired from the events of the previous thirty-six hours, and suffering from no sleep and another two hour forward time jump, we were a bit over-excitable. There was a lift, carpeted hallways, key-cards, and a great room with a massive bed and powerful, hot shower. It could have been the Ritz and not felt like a better treat. We fell on the breakfast buffet like vultures then passed out until the late afternoon.

Other than for references to the quality night life, ‘sketchy' was the main adjective we’d seen used in relation our new neighbourhood of Lapa. We divested ourselves of valuables and ventured out on a quest for orientation, dinner and some good old Brazilian beer. Finding ourselves in a sports bar we utilised our best pointing and smiling technique in the acquisition of some tea. Portuguese might look like Spanish, but it sounds like Hungarian and we were utterly clueless once more. After fuelling up, some more beer was in order and it just so happens that Rio is full of actual bars, not cafes that might serve beer, but beer emporia that might serve snacks. Yes the area was a bit moody in places, but not to the extent that you'd hide in your hotel, and there was more than a hint of promise for the weekend. We soaked it up for a while then headed back, detouring by the hotel roof to survey the scene. We were surprised to find the view dominated by a terrifying Mayan temple-style ziggurat in brutalist concrete. Behind the local aqueduct-cum-tourist tramline it lurked, gigantic and awful. A swift search revealed it was a cathedral, possibly the most dystopian fantasy cathedral ever.

Rio being a big city, we had to be modest with our expectations of what was achievable in a few days. We stayed local on the first morning, visiting the bohemian hillside neighbourhood of Santa Theresa via the tram. At the top was a theatre in a ruined colonial villa and an art gallery with marmosets in the garden. The views towards Sugar Loaf Mountain and Christ the Redeemer helped shape our itinerary for the remainder of the week. We picked around the twisty cobbled streets and managed not to punch the army of selfie-takers on the Selarón Stairs. The artist burned himself to death at the foot of his meticulously tiled staircase but this grisly fact seemed to be lost on the crowd as they posed and obstructed on the same spot. Once in possession of the right kind of ticket, we zipped off on the metro to check out Ipanema beach. James is very much a mogwai when it comes to beaches and should never be made wet or sandy, but once installed on a rented chair even he admitted it was an excellent place and suggested we should do some more beachiness. In my imagination, the beaches of Rio are full of impossibly beautiful people so it was encouraging to find all sorts present and enjoying themselves. Beach life is serious business, involving lots of team sports, sexy casual style, and alcohol. Enterprising stalls set up each day supplying chairs, parasols and drinks, and disappear again at sunset spirited away in VW campervans. Despite the breaking waves I managed a bit of a swim in the Atlantic and we chilled out as the sun went down. It was time to get formally acquainted with the caipirinha, Brazil's national drink. I suspect that caipirinha is viewed as some sort of human right in Brazil. It is ubiquitous, and invariably both the cheapest drink available and blindingly strong. It's also delicious of course, which set the tone for the remainder of the week.

Thursday saw us on the cable car up to Sugarloaf Mountain, for a spectacular view of the city and the incoming weather. On the way there we'd walked past the very swanky yacht club and therefore had a second chance to be envious, admiring the miniature yachts from above as they flew across the bay. The irony is there is no ‘January River' as Rio de Janeiro translates, the first Europeans to discover the place were mistaken. Guanabara Bay certainly looked like a mighty fine sailing ground though. We followed the short nature walk at the top and soon became enveloped in increasingly thick cloud. With the wind picking up and Rio now largely invisible, we descended once more. We pursued our plan to visit Copacabana but remained beach adjacent, supping caipirinhas and attempting to understand the rules of the foot/volley-ball hybrid game everyone plays. The sea did not look too safe for swimming, and as the sun went down it started to rain with a vengeance. Lightning pounded the sky above the mountains and ocean. Eventually we had to acknowledge it wasn't going to stop and had to make a run for it. Drenched, but still warm and cheerful we grabbed some food and called it a night. Across the road from our hotel, a mysterious festival was being set up.

We have breakfasted incrementally later as the week has progressed, which may or may not relate to the exponential increase in our alcohol consumption. Getting mobilised eventually on Friday morning, we went to investigate the intimidating cathedral. Like a reverse tardis it somehow seemed smaller on the inside. Smaller but still a vast open space with stained glass streaming down the walls from a glass cross in the roof. It was calm, cool and bold. Arriving at the modern art gallery by a rather leisurely midday was not a problem, as it emerged they only opened at midday, thus giving our tardiness the appearance of planning. Fully arted up we went for a wander round the waterfront and ran into what might have been some sort of naval graduation ceremony. Military bands in full uniform greeted dignitaries while bodyguards watched over the proceedings. We admired the architecture of one of Rio's newest museums but chose Coke and churros outside over going in. Our diabetes-baiting was rewarded with more rain so we trotted back to base for a disco nap as Rio geared up for Friday night.

When we re-emerged, Lapa had transformed itself into party central with innumerable samba bars featuring live bands. Off-licences doubled as bars, with crowds ranged across the pavements or sitting on the city's shared bicycles. Bar stalls crowded in the central reservation, and people with modified bikes and hand carts sold booze on the move. This was not the place for sobriety. While our ruined clothes made us look a bit down at heel inside the hotel, we fitted right in on the street. Urine, drains and cigarette smoke competed with frying snack food and the ever present zing of lime wedges. Groups of friends sang and danced in and around the bars, dodging traffic as the crowds swelled into the road. The mystery festival turned out to be a Christian music weekender. One couldn't help but feel they were fighting a losing battle. We lined our stomachs and got into the spirit of things at a restaurant before going on to a bar. The early hours found us under the aqueduct arches, clutching mind-bendingly strong, half-litre, 90p caipirinhas, and swaying to Christian rock in the rain.

Saturday was a slow start, followed by a restorative breakfast and post-breakfast sleep. We eventually hauled ourselves back up to Santa Theresa for a longer look around and a nice walk in the sunshine. After my ordering error in Baños I finally got stroganoff for my tea, and hoped this wouldn't be an ill-advised choice ahead of another night on the beers. We'd noticed protesters gathering earlier in the day, and many of them were partying in Lapa. Clearly it was something to do with next week's general election. The reported front-runner, representing the hard right, is currently recovering from being stabbed. These cheerful revellers were altogether more peaceful in their opposition to him, choosing stickers, glitter and dancing in the street as their weapons of choice. We steered clear of the cocktails but still made a poor attempt at getting a slightly earlier night. We looked up the hashtag of the campaign stickers and chanting, and discovered that #elenão meant #nothim, a cry of protest against misogyny, homophobia and racism.

Sunday, appropriately enough, involved a visit to Giant Jesus, or Christ the Redeemer as the statue is known to all but me. The figure watches over the city from high above and, while prominent, had seemed smaller than expected from the vantage points we'd had up to then. A Swiss-style train took us from the base of the mountain, up the steep, forested slopes to the undeniably enormous statue. All around the main platform, people lay prostrate at the feet of Christ. They weren't praying, or indeed even looking at the statue, but rather were all busily taking photos of each other; lying on the ground to get the same crucial shot from below. Arms outstretched, their backs to the statue, superimposing themselves over one of the modern wonders of the world. While the sights on the viewing decks were plain annoying, the views from them were superb, taking in the bay, mountains, city and beaches in 360°. We could have happily stayed up there for hours, but we'd promised ourselves a second crack at Copacabana and daylight hours were running short. Arriving on the bus, it was immediately apparent that some huge party was in full swing. The dual carriageway next to the beach was closed to traffic and full of floats and thousands of people. It was a powerful cross between a Pride parade and political rally. The tide was up and the sea so rough that lifeguards were patrolling on jet-skis and preventing people from swimming. My swim kit stayed in my bag and rather than sit on the beach as planned, we grabbed a drink and joined in. While it might not have been our election, it was a great opportunity to show solidarity. We picked a sound system we liked and danced alongside the slow moving lorry down the full length of Copacabana. We arrived several hours later hammered, starving and covered in glitter. Ending as we began in Santiago, our final dinner in this continent involved meat on chips, a South American staple. Clearly we couldn't just leave it there, as Sunday night samba was in full swing back in Lapa. Street-stall caipirinhas in hand we stood on the pavement admiring other people's dance moves and looking back on our trip. Our livers are quietly glad we are not staying longer.

We believe we have slept in one hundred and nine beds over the past ten months. This includes a bamboo stretcher in the forests of Laos, a tent in Thailand, wild campsites in an Australian van, and a boat down the Amazon. It does not account for all the overnight planes, trains and buses that we have variously enjoyed and endured. Thinking of it like this it seems incredible, yet here we are; it's the first of October and we're about to go home. Many of my clothes are about to go in the bin, together with the owl-patterned bag that has been slung across my body almost every day and is a veteran of our Japan our India trips before that. It's like discarding faithful friends. I have no idea what's coming next and am merrily avoiding thinking about it until we're home and the dust settles. As I lie here in Rio thinking of what a wonder, challenge and privilege it has been to do this, our tiny, huge earth rotates beneath me. We will soon be racing back across the Atlantic to the lovely Peels who will await us at Heathrow. For those of you who have managed to read this far, you’ve got through eighteen of these missives and who knows how many tens of thousands of words. Thank you for your interest, it's been lovely to have someone else to talk to.

[thepensiverambler]

The Journey

I left home and was driven to Stansted, just a few minutes away from arriving at the airport it dawned on us that I may need a visa to enter Turkey. I looked it up and sure enough, I did. We set to work acquiring an e-visa so that I might enter the country. In classic Davies tradition we had decided to run a little late to add a little extra spice to the already palpable tension. After a few tense minutes the issue was resolved and I was in business.

I said my goodbye and strode bold as brass to security. Where I stood and waited in the queue for a brief 30 minutes. By the time I was through my flight had a vibrant green boarding sign beside the flight number. It may as well have been a large middle finger directed at me. Those of you that know me well will know that if there is one thing to set me at ease when travelling it’s punctuality. I kicked off my flip flops and ran to my gate. My gate was the furthest out it could be without having to take a bus. Gate 58 of 60. I genuinely heard children asking parents ‘why is that boy running barefoot’. I ignored them all, the giggles, wisecracks and rude children because I had a plane to catch.

I arrived to another large queue and waited there as I sweated out any remaining moisture I had. Eventually we boarded the plane, my sweating had slowed and the captain chose that moment to inform us that we had been delayed by 35 minutes. Everyone groaned. Everyone, but me. If you ever want to win a little money, make a bet that my flight will be delayed. People will take you up on it, they can look into the weather, the geopolitical situation of the time, they could look into who the air traffic controllers working that day are sleeping with. It won’t make any difference, rain or shine my plane will be delayed.

This may have been a blessing in disguise as not 10 minutes since the captain’s announcement there was suddenly a great commotion on the plane. A woman one row behind and to my left screamed and started urgently pleading 'Amelie, Amelie, Amelie’. Now I was keen to give the woman her privacy so tried to keep reading my book but everyone around me was staring. Apparently the lady was breast feeding young amelie when she went limp and her eyes started pointing in opposite directions. Just like in a Hollywood drama the cabin crew asked if there was a doctor on board. Now if you ever need more proof that our NHS is run by immigrants then you should have been on that plane with me. 10-15 doctors and nurses queued in the aisle to offer their two penny’s worth. The man next to me stood up to help ( he had worked in a hospital as a cashier in the m&s but I guess it all helps). On came the airport medics and went through the same procedure as the doctors before them. Eventually the woman and a confused looking Amelie were taken off the plane for medical attention. Once it becsme apparent dear Amelie would be ok I couldn’t help but think that the drama had made our delay go a great deal quicker.

Not long after we were up in the air, it was on take that I learned the gentlemen next to me was not so keen on flying. He complained to me that he could hear I funny high pitched noise from the engines (there was). From what little knowledge I have of planes I know that they are incredibly complicated machines and there is rarely a time in their journey that something isn’t wrong with some part of it. There are so many little, delicate, intricate parts in such a large machine that when you think about it it makes sense that something is always wrong. This is not to say you’re going to drop out of the sky in the next few minutes but little minor things will go wrong. I chose not to impart these pearls of wisdom to my nervous friend, instead I chose to shrug and say that I could hear anything. I read my book for a while but eventually got chatting again to my nervous friend. We covered everything, from his life goals, family and career plans. My section was substantially briefer mainly what I was doing and where I was going. We soon got onto the treacherous topic of Greece’s economic situation. I recieved my first history lesson in the matter though felt that his grasp of economics was probably on par if significantly weaker than mine which I must admit is saying something. Whilst we were both flailing to maintain any sort of progress in the conversation he let out a loud yelp and clutched his eye. He complained that something to do with the air pressure meant that he was in immense pain. I felt a mixture of worry and mild relief our conversation could end without an awkward silence.

We landed and I was soon out of the airport searching for either an ATM orthe bus stop. I hadn’t had time to change any money whilst in Stansted as by the time I was through security my flight was boarding. I followed signs this way and that eventually being pointed in the right direction by a grumpy car parking steward. I got on the bus and with one of my most English moments to date asked if anyone knew where the ATM was. The did not. If anyone wished to exchange pounds for euros. The did not. The bus driver appeared (a great big bear of a man which I found to be common theme amongst Greek bus drivers). I asked him the same questions, he didn’t speak English. Knowing that if I missed this bus it would be another 3 hours before I could get another. I weighed up my options until a kind young Greek man leaned forward and pressed 2 euros into my hand. I hung my head in shame, tried to give him £2 at which he chuckled and said 'I don’t go England’. With that settled i made my way down the bus to purchase my ticket. Like an HGV vehicle coming down highbrook lane there was not enough room for me yet I remained undeterred. I bought myself a ticket only to realise that the whole ticket situation was a great deal more optional than I might have imagined as it was down to the rigor of our bus driver to enforce the purchase of tickets. I didn’t get the impression he cared all that much.

We set off from the airport and i noticed that 80% of the bus was female, after a cursory glance I decided I did not think Greek women were for me. It was something about the corn rows and greasy hair combination that didn’t quite do it for me. I then realised that the only girls to have the corn rows as though they had been washed in olive oil were speaking English. After this observation I found Greek women to be far more agreeable.

The bus had an infuriating tanoy system which would say in a loud clear voice 'the next station is’ at this point it would switch recordings to an inaudible woman speaking the names of the stops. If you ever managed to stretch your ears to the point of being able to hear this lady the bus driver would time his closing of the doors perfectly so as to drown her out. It really was an efficient process in the suppression of information. Lamenting the fact I had give up Greek at a very young age I made the decision to stay on the bus for 45 minutes as my 'Rome to Rio’ told me to do.

I got off the bus with 2 miles to walk to the intercity bus stop. 'Oh well’ I thought to myself and so I set off towards the bus stop in full knowledge of the fact that I couldn’t possibly catch the bus to Kesan tonight but I felt I had to try. I realised I hadn’t eaten or drunk anything for nearly 12 hours so headed into the first shop I came across. Only I still hadn’t been to an ATM, the shopkeeper like the bus driver didn’t want my pounds nor my card. I walked on, found an ATM and withdrew €80 euros. When I eventually arrived at the bus stop they told me they were closed, they weren’t the right bus stop and that no they didn’t want to break my €20 note as they were closed. Some taxi drivers after much persuading did break the note so I could take a bus back into the city. I head toward the bus stop and, not for the first time that day I sprinted towards my transport. History repeated itself, profuse sweating ensued followed by a 10 minutes wait as I waited for the bus driver to finish chain smoking. I got off the bus at the first hotel I saw and strolled in. €30 for one night. Not a chance! I would rather sleep on the streets than being extorted in such a manner. I wandered aimlessly towards town stopping only to pick up a couple of essentials. Water and coco rocks. I walk a short mile to a hostel in the area, €22.50. Slightly unimpressed with the small savings I’d made I begrudgingly agreed to the room. As the streets were becoming less and less appealing the more and more they were becoming a reality. I had a few handfuls of coco rocks and hit the hay. Only I couldn’t sleep. My mind was a buzz with bus stops and buses. My bed was too soft and my pillow to hard. The room was stiflingly warm, I bumped up the AC and set my mind to sleeping. Until at 6 in the morning I was rudely awoken by my roommates dastardly alarm. Not to worry I was back asleep in minutes.

I rose at 9 30, showered, had a coffee and left the hostel. I arrived at the bus stop, got a ticket and was on board a bus to Kesan at 10 o clock. I was alone on the bus. The driver, the conductor and I enjoyed a 60 seat coach to ourselves. It’s worth noting that a few stops later I was kicked out of this seat.

After 5 and a half hours of reading and writing we reached Greek border control. We stopped briefly at this juncture, I was allowed to go to the loo (a privilege I had been denied every stop before). Our conductor purchased what must have been north of 20 bottles of whisky and then used us (passengers) as mules to smuggle duty free liquor across the border. At that moment in time I was too preoccupied with the concept of never seeing my passport again that the minor indiscretion of a bit of smuggling didn't bother me a great deal. We were let through the Greek border and drove a kilometre overto the Turkish border control and once again we all got off the bus. Our documents were inspected 1 by 1. I allowed everyone to go in front of me as I wasn't entirely convinced my visa was the genuine article. When it was finally my turn I handed over my passport and visa, the stern looking officer to a long hard look at both documents and with a wry smile and a wink handed them back. I was through! I was into Turkey! To be continued... To be continued

[scenestertv]

BeBe Zahara Benet Plus BeBe & Other Winner’s Fest Diaries.                                                 

Revry’s Out Web Fest Closes with Awards and Exclusive Performance by BeBe Zahara Benet Plus BeBe & Other Winner’s Fest Diaries.

Los Angeles – Premier queer global streaming network, Revry, celebrated the closing night of its 3rd annual Out Web Fest (OWF), the first queer web festival celebrating the best in independent LGBTQ digital storytelling.    After opening the fest at YouTube Space LA with the West Coast premiere of the acclaimed HBO documentary film, BELIEVER and celebrating the annual Revry Visibility Awards honoring YouTube sensations Ingrid Nilsen, Miles McKenna, Miles Jai and LGBTQ advocate organization LOVELOUD, the festival rocked on through the weekend at The London West Hollywood hotel with screenings, panels and two Powerhouse Industry Pitchfests.  But the Closing Night Awards was the party not to be missed.  With a diverse group of international winners including DragRace icon, BeBe Zahara Benet for her world premiere video, “Jungle Kitty”, the party went into insanity as BeBe then performed live for the first time her hit “Jungle Kitty” (see Winner’s List below with their Fest Diaries).

“It’s rare to have so many passionate, talented LGBTQ+ international content creators in one space,” said Revry CEO, Damian Pelliccione.  “Over the fest, everyone became a family.   With the stories we share from around the world, truly, it makes you realize how our stories resonate with whatever part of the globe you are from.  That is the reason for this festival and for Revry – sharing our authentic stories from every corner of the globe!”

Out Web Fest asked the international winners and attendee’s to share their experiences at the fest in these Fest Diary Entries.

Out Web Fest Jury Award for Music

JUNGLE KITTY

BeBe Zahara Bebet (from Cameroon)

“It was an amazing weekend.  I was doing other press in NY and then flew to LA to perform at Revry’s Out Web Fest and world premiere my newest video “Jungle Kitty”, very exciting.  I loved how inclusive the experience was at the festival.  It’s important to show more visibility, and there was such a diverse group of artists with so much struggles, different kinds of walks of life and allies.   It was great to see other voices being represented and not be the only one to carry the torch.

There were creators from many countries – artistry is very universal, it is not a nationality thing. I love that fact.  So many amazing stories that need to be shared and the community needs to get behind these stories.   I’m humbled to work with Revry.  With their quality of the content, they give my work a platform and voice.

When I was writing “Jungle Kitty”, the bridge, it’s a frame of mind.  It’s that color of me that is unapologetic, ferocious, not allowing negative energy around me, but about being free and fun.  I don’t want to apologize, not for how I walk, talk or what…this is a universal message of owning our power.  People relate to that, and I’m happy people can feel that way.  To sing my song live on stage at Out Web Fest and see that reaction was really encouraging.

Revry and Out Web Fest have shown such incredible support for the work, and as artists, it is all about the support!”

  Out Web Fest Audience Choice Award

INCONCEIVABLE

Rachel Kirkpatrick (from Canada)

“I just had the best weekend ever. It started at 4:44 am Friday morning when I woke up to take three trains, two flights and a cab ride to get from Vancouver, BC (Canada) to L.A’s 3rd annual Out Web Fest.  After 15 hours of travel I pulled up in my basic yellow cab wearing chucks and a hoodie to the swankiest hotel I had ever seen.

I left my toddler at home with my baby daddy (thank God for co-parenting) so more than being excited for a festival I was excited to only have to clothe, feed and bathe one person for the weekend (me).

I had a number of fantasies about what it would be like to be on the red carpet with cool celebs like Katie fucking Stuart. But none of those fantasies, had me being friends with everyone I met and had me feeling like I left a part of my heart in LA.

I felt like I was going to be a kid in a candy store around so many amazing collaborators and content creators that were way out of my league. But what I didn’t expect was to feel like a celebrity.  I was mostly just grateful and amazed that I got to actually talk to the organizers of the event, and that everyone already knew who we were.  That was utterly surreal.

I got to pitch to 22 Hollywood execs, a story about my life story, and some of them really loved it and gave me their contact info before I could even get through my pitch. I have about 6-7 execs now that I’m excited to establish a connection with.  That’s what I feel the weekend was about; connection.  There is something about sharing your story that is such a vulnerable experience, and when you are around others who are doing the same thing, you automatically meet each other at a level that is just really honest and raw. No one is trying to hide anything.

In this industry, things can be really cut throat and hard, but there was such a sense of humanity at the festival in the stories that we heard and the characters that we witnessed together which made the event have so much HEART. I feel nothing but gratitude for the weekend I just experienced and the LGBTQ2IA community at large. There were so many experiences that were represented on screen that I didn’t realize were shared.

I could not believe that Inconceivable won the Audience Choice award amidst such a talented line-up of series’. Winning was the icing on top of the cake of a perfectly balanced weekend of work and play. It really truly was an honor to be a part of this event. I can’t wait for next year! Thank-you so much Out Web Fest and the Revry team for making this happen and bringing this community of vibrant, and open individuals together. It was such a freaking blast.”

   Out Web Fest Honorable Mention

SEPTO

Alice Carvahlo (from Brazil)

“Being at Out Web Fest was a memorable experience from start to finish. My journey began in December 2017, when Revry CEO Damian Pelliccione announced on the stage of the City of Arts during the Rio Web Fest that SEPTO had been chosen to participate in the Out Web Fest with all expenses paid.

Hollywood is the center of the audiovisual industry.  It is where any creator dreams to be. The name itself, “Hollywood”, attributes like a stamp of quality. It is the reflection of approval in a global seal.  SEPTO participated in festivals in Asia and South America, but the United States was still a closed area for us, unimaginable (precisely because it is everyone’s dream).

From the region in Brazil we came from, it is not common to dream so high. In addition to the discrimination of race, gender and sexual orientation, we also face a daily kind of xenophobia against the culture produced in the northeast of the country. How to dream so high, living so far in a country so full of discrimination and having only two reais in the pocket?

The cold weather we felt throughout our stay was counterbalanced by the warmth of the people, the respect, the kind words and a festival full of diversity in every way. SEPTO was displayed on Saturday and the reviews were very positive.

Sunday, I was asked to announce the fest’s Audience Award (which includes an all expense paid trip to Rio de Janeiro for Rio Web Fest), it was as if I were living that December day again. The internet has brought people together and made dreams possible, whatever their size, and that is beautiful to watch…and to stream.

SEPTO was given an Honorable Mention at the awards.  And after all this, SEPTO returns home with a certainty: the strength of the cinema is really in the collective.  SEPTO will debut in June on Revry. This is the biggest prize!”

  Out Web Fest Powerhouse Industry Pitchfest Winner

Timothy Chesney (from UK)

  ”My journey to LA from the UK nearly didn’t happen. On the way to the airport, me and my partner lost our luggage with our passports and tickets. Looking at each other in horror at the train station, our dream holiday to Los Angeles seemed impossible.  Skip forward a week and I’m in The London Hotel West Hollywood, pitching to industry execs that have been a huge inspiration to me and my career. Thanks to Revry and Out Web Fest, I had the opportunity of a lifetime!

In the U.K, I have recently been commissioned by Sky to write and direct a comedy called Charity Shop Sue along with my twin brother Matthew Chesney and longtime collaborator Stu Edwards. The show features an incredible all female cast starring Selina Mosinski and produced by Spool Films, and BAFTA winners Vicky McClure and Shane Meadows.

This is a really exciting point in my career and I feel extremely lucky that OWF Pitch Fest just so happened to be scheduled during my trip to L.A. The stars were very much aligned.

The top-level industry execs gave me some really valuable feedback on my project. My pitch was for an LGBTQ+ animated comedy show set in a dystopian fantasy world. An important strand of the show looks at non-corporeal identity. I brought business cards, a 1-page pitch, a 10-page pitch book and a 1-minute sizzle reel. You never know what people will think of your ideas. I did feel that they all understood how important this show is to me and my passion and drive to make it happen.

I also got chance to see all the other talented content creators that are part of the Revry’s Out Web Fest programming. It was moving to see such inspiring, brave and authentic work being created across the globe and brought together by Revry.  I can’t deny some pieces made me howl and others choked me up!

At the Sunday evening awards ceremony, me and my boyfriend were chatting with some other guests when I heard my name called out. I was knocked for six and completely didn’t expect to win. I am really looking forward to using the prize of a studio day at Shamrock Productions. I visited the studio recently and can’t wait to return to L.A and utilize the impressive facilities. My mind will be ticking until then to figure out making some magic in that space.

The whole experience has been fully empowering. This is a really important time for LGBTQ+ voices!  I can’t wait to see how we populate the film, TV and music landscape in the near future, with our original, and bold stories.”

  Drama Competition Attendee

STAGE FRIGHT 

Levin Hübner & Fabian Wallenfels (from Germany)

When we received the invitation for Out Web Fest we didn’t hesitate to book our flights – for us small town boys from Germany, an invitation to Hollywood doesn’t come every day!

It always seems a bit boring to state the obvious. Anyway: First Night in LA. Of course we’re standing up there at the Griffith Observatory. And it’s magical: It’s our first time up here, yet we’ve seen this hundreds of times before, together with some of the biggest stars and directors out there. On first sight, LA is just a gigantic, shiny waste of electric power. But looking closer, you start to realize that it consists of millions of smaller lights, and almost all of them are on the move. What an adventure to be one of these small lights wandering through LA for some days!

We always felt that our web series Stage Fright is a universal story and it was great to see that notion confirmed by the American audience appreciating the show. This makes the LGBTQ subculture so special – it’s a community that overcomes borders and language barriers.

Watching the program of Out Web Fest was a tremendous joy – it really striked how the niche has been growing up in recent years and doesn’t have to shy away behind mainstream media. Digital queer content is all about good storytelling and interesting characters, providing a positive representation of LGBTQ life in our society. We were really honored to be selected in such a strong competition with our own web series Stage Fright, and to be part of the Revry family in this shiny city called LA!

It was a crazy trip, coming to LA from Germany for just a weekend, but it was worth every single one of five thousand miles (and even more in kilometers).

Other winners include:

Jury Award for Drama – Jade of Death (Taylor Litton-Strain)

Jury Award for Comedy – Femme (Benno Rosenwald)

Adam Milano

Billie Lee

Austin Rhodes, Aaron Rhodes

Gigi Gorgeous, Nats

Dark Pink Stars AKA Dustin Bochek

Ashlee Marie Preston

Antonio Soto, Leon Wu

Ariana Madix

Gigi Gorgeous

Assaad Yacoub, Dominique

Chris JacobX

Ariana Madix, Tom Sandoval

Chris Rodriguez, Damian Pelliccione, Gigi Gorgeous, Alia Daniels, LaShawn McGhee

Blaire White

Damian Pelliccione, Lance Lowry

Chance Calloway

Billie Lee, Jesse Montana

Giovannie Espiritu

INA_Sheylla, Goncalves

Nor, B Danielle Watkins, Erik Dillon, Serrita Coleman, Onyx Keesha, Dee Hysaw

Charmaine Bingwa

Jacob Dunford, Adam Milano, Lance Lowry

James Butler

Jody Steel

Jesse Montana

Michael Varrati

Lance Lowry

Luciana Bollina, Fernando Belo

Jay Spruell, Mikey Boyd

Jade Hilliard, Jayce Baron, Sampson McCormick

Matt Alber, John Garcia

Nor

Miles Jai

Miles McKenna

Katie Stuart

Noelle Messier

On Mekahel

OWF and Revry Co-Founders, Chris Rodriguez, Damian Pelliccione, Alia Daniels, LaShawn McGhee

Katie Stuart, Rachel Kirkpatrick

Shira Lazar

Rachel David

Ricky Rebel

Shannon Beveridge

Parson James

Alia Daniels_Ryan Mitchell, Damian Pelliccione

BeBe Zahara Benet, Assaad Yacoub

Alice Carvahl, Timothy Chesney, Damian Pelliccione

Alia Daniels, LaShawn McGhee, Katie Stuart, Rachel Kirkpatrick, Chris Rodriguez, Damian Pelliccione

Damian Pelliccione

B Danielle Watkins

Dancer_INA, Dancer Dark Pink Stars

Katie Stuart, Rachel Kirkpatrick, Alice Carvalho, Damian Pelliccione, Dominic Segatti

OWF and Revry Co-Founders Damian Pelliccione_Alia Daniels, LaShawn McGhee, Chris Rodriguez

OWF Buffer Festival Panel_Corrado Coia_Rachel David_Nicola Foti_Shira Lazar

OWF Buffer Festival Panel_Corrado Coia_Rachel David_Nicola Foti

OWF Revry Screening, TBD, Jon Garcia, Matt Alber Colby, Cote Onyx, Keesha Nor, B Danielle Watkins, TBD, Alice Carvalho, Ana Popowicz, Damian Pelliccione

OWF Revry Screening__TBD_Jon Garcia_Matt Alber_Colby Cote_Onyx Keesha_Nor_B Danielle Watkins_TBD_Alice Carvalho_Ana Popowicz_Damian Pelliccione

OWF StartOut Panel: Jade Hilliard, On Mekahel, Lorenzo Thione

OWF StartOut Panel_Ryan Mitchell_Jade Hilliard_On Mekahel_Lorenzo Thione_Jon Brence

The Empress

Bebe Zehara Benet

Alice Carvalho

BeBe Zehara Benet

Tegan Quin

Shira Lazar, Ryan Mitchell

Fabian Wallenfels, Levin Hübner

  About Out Web Fest (OWF)

OWF is the world’s only digital festival dedicated to celebrating web series, short films and music videos by and for the global queer community. OWF’s mission is to provide the opportunity for all queer content creators to connect with the global community and celebrate the progressive evolution of LGBTQ+ entertainment. OWF breaks the mold of other festivals by giving prominence and a voice to the honest and unfiltered digital short-form storytelling that does not rely on access to resources, lofty budgets, or elite “movers and shakers” in the industry.

In the 21st Century short-form content leads as the hottest and fastest growing category in digital entertainment and we believe it is the perfect forum to share multiple perspectives of queer culture that make our stories some of the most innovative, ground-breaking, and unique in the world. OWF introduces international and local digital content creators, producers, and fans to inclusive programming that acknowledges the cultural significance of this revolutionary intersection of medium and storytelling.

This festival will feature screenings, panels with industry experts, and a pitchfest which will allow creators a chance to speak one on one with working industry professionals. The festival will conclude with an awards ceremony and closing night party.  For more information, please visit http://www.outwebfest.com/

About Revry

Revry is the premiere queer digital media network for the inclusive 21st century LGBTQ+ community.  As the first-ever global queer streaming service, Revry offers a uniquely curated selection of domestic and international entertainment that includes iconic, award-winning narrative and documentary films, cutting-edge series and originals along with the world’s largest queer libraries of groundbreaking podcasts, music albums and videos.  Revry is available worldwide on seven OTT, mobile, and online platforms, and hosts an exclusive linear channel on Pluto TV with a reach of over 10 million people in over 100 countries.  Headquartered in Los Angeles, Revry is led by an inclusive team of queer, multi-ethnic and allied partners who bring decades of experience in the fields of tech, digital media, and queer advocacy.  Follow on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram @REVRYTV. Go Online to: www.Revry.com.

Revry’s Out Web Fest PICS + RuPaul DragRace's BeBe Zahara Benet and Other Winner's Fest DIARIES #OutWebFest @Revry #OWF2018 BeBe Zahara Benet Plus BeBe & Other Winner’s Fest Diaries.                                                  Revry’s Out Web Fest Closes with Awards and Exclusive Performance by BeBe Zahara Benet Plus BeBe & Other Winner’s Fest Diaries.

[goodlifexplorers-blog]

Traveling to Rio with a baby started a little shaky as we missed our flight out of Denver and almost missed our flight again out of Miami, but in hindsight it was actually a lot easier than we thought. Our trip to Brazil this year was a mix of family/attending my middle brother’s wedding and having some much needed vacation time.

I have explained before that traveling with a baby is actually worse than traveling with an adult. There is so much more to carry and plan for. You can read some tips here. Often I feel it would be easier to wait until Roark is older to travel again, but the hubby and I made a pact before we had children that this part of our lives would change, but it wouldn’t disappear, so we carry on.

Another fact about having a baby is that we are never on time anymore. Which is exactly what happened this time. I made the foolish mistake of booking a flight leaving Denver at 8:50am. The thought was that it would give us plenty of time to get ready and drive to the airport. Haha! Wrong! After several feedings, changes and everything else, we got out of the house and made it to the airport about an hour and twenty minutes before our flight. Usually that wouldn’t be so bad, because we were flying domestically at first and the Denver airport was empty, but misery loves company, so it was all downhill from there.

First, I stayed in line to do curbside check in just to be told I couldn’t check in with a baby curbside, which I had done before on Delta, but apparently American doesn’t allow. Now 10 minutes are gone. Ok, so I go inside with Roark and the stroller, car seat, diaper bag, pillow, purse and a carry-on, while my husband brings our bags. In the 2 minutes he took to help me, our car is almost fined and the hubby has to go park the car leaving me with 4 bags, a baby and all the baby’s stuff. I stand in line behind 2 people and have to shuffle everything when the line moves. At this point we have 60 mins to board, my spirits are still high.

The airport attendant pulls me off the line to use the kiosk with the assurance that I will be able to check in a baby. I follow him with all our things. I pull up the reservation and the attendant goes to help someone else. Because we have an infant, he has to do something on the kiosk, but he is helping someone else so I flag him and wait. He comes, slides his badge and then… warning. Ok, now I start to panic a little, we now have 50 mins to go through security and board. The computer tells us that we can’t check any bags because we are passed the 45 mins till boarding. What? I have never heard of that. The attendant tries to get us an exception because he feels guilty and the counter attendant does not want to give us an exception. We will miss our flight. Ok, so now I am getting mad. I ask him what I need to do, he tells me I need to get back in line – the same line I was in to begin with except that now, there are 10 people in line. There is no way we are getting on that flight. So I rush to the line, still being positive – or delusional- that things will work out. There is still no sign of the hubby and no help to take all the luggage from the kiosk to the line. I am sweating now and I haven’t even left Denver. But, I breathe in deep.

Twenty minutes later I am resigned that we will have to pay a fee and change our flights. I finally get to the counter, the lady was in a bad mood, says I may not even leave Denver that day. Sadly, I am used to this kind of attitude so I just let it brush off. I am not leaving that counter until I am booked to Rio. I ignore her attitude and respond with kindness. She says I need to pay $650 to change flights. I say no way! I am responsible for the delay, but the airline also shares responsibility. If I had stayed in line, I would have made the 45 min cutoff to boarding, so there is no way I am paying that much. She calls some people, they don’t budge. She types and types on the computer, nothing. The husband finally arrives sweating- he has had to jog to the terminal from the parking because the shuttle didn’t come by. He is furious with me, but doesn’t say it and I know he has the right to be. The lady tells him about the change fee with an attitude- bad mistake, he snaps back. You can imagine the scene. But now, I look like the more reasonable person to deal with, so I ask the lady to check other flights to Dallas since that is the only leg of our journey we have missed. She hadn’t considered that.

Twenty mins later we find a flight, the supervisor approves it, we pay $150 to change our flights and voila- we are back in business. I am tired just telling you this story! We fly to Dallas and then to Miami just to have another setback- our flight was late and the gate check took forever. Our next flight was leaving in 40 mins from a gate on the other side of the terminal. I go ahead with baby, diaper bag and carry on while the hubby waits for gate check.

I get to the gate and everyone is already boarding. The baby needs to have his diaper change so I run to do that. I get back to the gate and no sign of my husband. I call him and he’s on the way. I go to board and there is a problem. The lady at the counter says they have given our seats away. What?

I tell her we need to be on the flight, she needs to find us the seats. Because the hubby is still not there, she is not letting me board. 10 minutes later, the hubby arrives jogging with the stroller and car seat. We finally board, just to sit on the tarmac for another hour with maintenance problems. Yep! That was the beginning of our trip.

But we finally made to Rio. Moral of the story- I need to add a couple more hours to get to the airport when traveling with a baby.

We were so tired though that upon arriving at the hotel and having a 3 hr lunch, we checked in and I laid in bed and passed out. We just woke up to order room service and go back to sleep.

But the excitement was not over. While we were eating overlooking the beautiful beach of Copacabana, I heard a gun shot. I look at my husband and ask “That was a gun shot, wasn’t it?”. He confirms it. A second later, we hear several shots from a assault rifle or whatever you call a gun that fires rapidly in succession. I get Roark, run away from the window to the other side of the room. After several minutes we don’t hear any more shots and we go to sleep.

Next day I asked the waiter in the hotel restaurant about the shots- he says it happens all the time. Welcome to Rio! Then I remember why I haven’t visited it since I was a child.

That same day, my dad and my brother visited us and we had lunch. This was the first time Roark was meeting them and a very special day for us. Too bad they couldn’t stay longer. We ate at one of the oldest restaurants in Rio- Confeitaria Colombo. The place is amazing! The decor and the food are exceptional! A great place to visit if you like architecture and good food. The mirror were imported I believe from Belgium. They are huge! I can’t imagine how they survived the trip!

On our third day in Rio, we enjoyed the pool in the morning and left the city towards Paraty in the afternoon. Paraty is a town of about 35,000 people on the coast between Rio and Sao Paulo. The location of my brother’s wedding. It took us five and a half hours to make the drive and we arrived pretty late, just in time to have dinner and go to bed.

I can’t write everything here or this will be a book. Watch the vlog– it’s a lot shorter!

Part 2 will be posted soon.

You can read more posts about Brazil here.

xoxo

Jana

Traveling to Rio with a Baby Traveling to Rio with a baby started a little shaky as we missed our flight out of Denver and almost missed our flight again out of Miami, but in hindsight it was actually a lot easier than we thought.