#how management companies in the states realized they could use fans as walking billboards with tour shirts was crazy

[booskwan]

부라보✈️

[rpf-bat]

Celebrate The End Of Things With Cheap Champagne

Pairing: Frank Iero x Reader

Genre: Angst 

Summary: @sirloin-steaks requested a Frank story based on the song “New Year’s Day” by Taylor Swift. 

It’s December 31st, 2006, and My Chemical Romance are ringing in the New Year, performing live in Times Square. Frank invites you to come out, and see the show. But, an after-party at the band’s hotel, takes a turn, that nobody saw coming.

Trigger warning for substance abuse. 

You stood on the deck of the ferry boat, watching the bright lights of New York City draw closer and closer. You used to take this ferry every day, from your hometown in New Jersey, to your job in Manhattan. But, that seemed like so long ago now. 

Once upon a time, your friend and former coworker, Gerard, would catch the morning ferry with you. But, after the September 11th attacks, he’d quit his job at your company, and started a band. His decision had puzzled you at first. But, the first time you saw My Chemical Romance perform live, you had understood. 

That was also the night that you met Frank. His guitar playing was electric, and you told him as much, after the band finished their set. It had been at some shitty dive bar - the only venues that would take them at the time. But, he’d told you that night, that he, and Gee, and the guys, were going to make it to the big time. You’d admired his ambition, and the two of you became fast friends. And he’d been right. 

Now, four years later, My Chemical Romance was one of the biggest bands in the country. Their album, The Black Parade, had just dropped two months ago, debuting at #2 on the Billboard charts. They had gotten popular enough, to receive a prestigious offer. Ryan Seacrest had asked them to play New Year’s Rockin’ Eve, tonight, in Times Square! 

Millions of Americans tuned in every New Year’s Eve, to see the concert broadcast, and watch the ball drop at midnight. It was crazy to you, that your dorky friends from back home in New Jersey, had gotten “big” enough to perform alongside glitzy pop stars, like Christina Aguilera.

You were so psyched for them. It would also be the first time you had seen them in a while. Frank was the only one of the guys who still technically lived in New Jersey. When he was home, and off the road, he would come over to your house all the time, to watch movies, or play video games, just like in the old days. But, the last time that had happened, had been months ago. He, and the rest of the band, had been traveling around nonstop, doing radio and TV interviews, to promote the new album. In February, they were supposed to embark on a world tour. 

“But after tonight’s show, we’ll have a little bit of time off, before the tour starts,” Frank had told you excitedly on the phone, yesterday afternoon, when he’d invited you to the gig. “I really hope we get to spend more time together, Y/N. I missed you.” 

You had missed him, too - more than words could describe. Your heart ached whenever you drove past his house, knowing that he wasn’t in it. You had things you wanted to say to him tonight - things you’d been waiting to tell him for a long time. 

Your heart hammered as you stepped off the ferry, and began walking towards Time Square. The streets were packed with people, all rushing towards the same place you were. You knew some New Yorkers had started camping out at three o’clock in the afternoon, to get the best seats. If Frank hadn’t sent you a VIP pass in the mail, you’d surely have ended up in the way back of the crowd, nowhere close to the stage. 

You showed your pass to the security personnel, who were looking through peoples’ bags at a checkpoint, near the entrance to the Square. They waved you through to a special designated area, in the front row, for friends and family of the performers. You were pretty sure the kid on your left was the fourth Jonas Brother. You felt remarkably out of place. 

But, then your phone beeped, alerting you that you had a text. A smile crossed your face, when you realized it was from Frank. 

We r about 2 head onstage, he said. I will see you after our set, I promise! There’s nobody I’d rather ring in 2007 with :)

You heard the crowd start screaming, and your head whipped around, as you watched the announcer stroll onto the stage. 

“Please welcome our next musical guest - My! Chemical! Romaaaaance!” 

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

Their performance was amazing. They were one of a dozen artists performing tonight, so they only got to do three songs, before they had to get offstage and make room for the next act (Gwen Stefani, apparently). But, they put their whole hearts into those three tracks. Frank was jumping around like a maniac with his guitar, despite the freezing cold. Ray even had a pair of “2007” sunglasses on. 

You screamed for them, like every other girl in the crowd. At this point, you thought with a frown, there’s probably ten thousand people, with a crush on the same man, that I’ve been pining for since 2002. 

...Then again, you considered, the ten thousand other girls, don’t have backstage passes. 

Your frown disappeared, when you walked backstage, and a pair of arms immediately circled you. 

“Y/N!” Frank grinned. “Thank you so much for coming out and seeing us tonight!”

“Wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” you grinned, hugging your friend back. “You were amazing.” 

“Thank you,” Frank said sincerely, releasing you from his grip. “Are you ready to get out of this cold?”

“Where are we going?” you asked. 

“Back to the hotel,” he explained. “Ray’s not feeling so good.” 

“Oh, no,” you frowned. “I’m sorry to hear that.” 

“Hi, Y/N!” Ray greeted, waving at you with one hand, while he pulled a tissue from his pocket, with the other. He blew his nose loudly. “....Sorry,” he muttered. “How are you?”

“It’s okay!” you assured him. “I’m fine...I’m sorry you’re not doing so well, though. You sound awful.” 

“It’s this East Coast weather,” he shrugged, throwing the tissue in a nearby wastebasket. “I hate doing outdoor shows, in the wintertime.” 

“You sounded great onstage,” you reassured him. “Nobody could even tell you were sick.” 

“The dorky sunglasses conceal how puffy his eyes are,” Frank confessed. “Poor guy didn’t sleep at all last night.” 

“Well, hopefully, I’ll sleep better tonight,” Ray chucked. “We’ve got two rooms at the Knickerbocker Hotel - one for me and Mikey, and one for Frank and Gerard.”

“Speaking of which,” you asked, “where is Gerard?” 

“Here I am!” chuckled a voice behind you, and you turned and saw your old friend Gerard, beaming at you. “Sorry, I was busy calling our cab. It’s so good to see you, Y/N! Thank you for coming.” 

“Thank you for inviting me!” you smiled back. “I’m really proud of you guys, getting to be part of such a major event.” 

“Oh, it’s surreal,” Gerard confessed. “I used to come up here with my mom and dad, and Mikey, every New Year’s Eve, to watch the show live.  I never thought I’d be in the show.” 

“We’re really lucky,” Mikey smiled, appearing beside Gerard, with a glass of champagne in his hand. 

“Ooh, where’d you get that?” Frank asked. 

“They’re giving them out to all the VIPs,” Mikey explained. “Would you like one, Y/N?” 

“I don’t think I qualify as a Very Important Person,” you confessed. 

“Nonsense,” Frank shook his head. “You’re very important to me.” 

“Yeah,” Mikey nodded. “You’ve been good friends with all of us for a long time. You can have whatever you want.” 

“No time for that,” Gerard shook his head. “Our cab’s here.” 

“C’mon,” Frank said, lacing his fingers with yours. “We have to go out through a secret exit, so that the fans don’t mob us.” 

“Oh, shit, really?” you chuckled. “I feel like a secret agent.” 

“Our lives have gotten so weird, honestly,” Gerard confessed. “I’m kinda glad that we’re gonna put some distance, between us and these crowds.” 

“Yeah, it’ll just be five of us, once we get to the hotel,” Mikey nodded. “Well...four. Ray is gonna go to sleep in our room, as soon we get there. But, the rest of us can party in Frankie and Gee’s room til midnight.” 

“Or later,” Frank grinned mischievously.

You smiled at your four oldest friends. “I can’t wait.” 

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

“Ok, question,” you asked uncertainly, staring at the yellow cab in front of you. “How are we gonna fit five people in there?”

“It’s gonna be a tight squeeze,” Frank chuckled. 

“Well, hey, we’ve managed to fit in smaller places before, right?” Gerard pointed out. 

“True,” Ray laughed. “Remember when we were traveling around New Jersey, in our shitty little van?”

“We were all practically right on top of each other,” Mikey recalled. 

When the band had first started, you had gone with them, on weekend trips, to play a gig, in the next town over. You’d squished between the boys, somehow, and helped them carry their equipment into the venue. Watching them rock the faces off the local kids, had been so much fun. 

But, as time went on, they started getting offers to play at clubs across state lines. Day trips turned into months-long tours. You couldn’t commit to that - unlike Gerard, you still had a day job. And so, you started seeing the guys less and less. Then they’d gotten a record deal - and everything had gotten even more complicated. 

“That was….a long time ago,” you frowned. 

“Yeah,” Frank said wistfully. “I wish we had the chance to do that again.” 

“Well, now, most of the time, we don’t have to squish,” Ray pointed out. “We have a nice, roomy tour bus, with bunks and everything.” 

“You’ve come a long way,” you smiled weakly. 

You were quiet as you piled into the car. As the taxi started driving down the street, you stared out at the night sky, and the city lights flying by. Suddenly, Frank gently touched your hand, making you turn, and face him. 

“Hey,” he said quietly, giving your hand a squeeze, “are you alright, Y/N?” 

“Yeah,” you shrugged. “I’m fine. Don’t worry.” 

“Tonight’s supposed to be a party, remember?” he teased. “So, try and smile for me, okay?” 

“I’ll try,” you promised. It was far easier to smile, with him around. 

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

You could tell as soon as you walked into the lobby, that this was a five star hotel. A crystal chandelier, cast a soft glow over the pristine decor. 

“We already got our room keys earlier,” Gerard explained. “So, we can go ahead up.” 

You nodded, and followed him and the guys to the elevator. 

“I think I’m gonna crash as soon as we get upstairs,” Ray confessed, sniffling into his tissue again. 

“I don’t blame you,” you said sympathetically. The elevator dinged, as you arrived at your floor. 

“Since I won’t see you guys until tomorrow,” Ray sighed, “Happy New Year, alright?”

“Happy New Year, Ray,” you waved, as you watched him unlock his hotel room door, and head inside. “Feel better soon!”

“Thanks, Y/N,” Ray wheezed, closing the door behind him. 

“Alright, let’s head into our room,” Frank grinned, opening the door to the adjoining room. “What do you want to do first?” 

“Let’s turn the TV on,” Mikey suggested, immediately looking for the remote. “I wanna see the other performances. They’re still broadcasting live right now.” 

“Oh, true,” you nodded. “We can still watch the ball drop tonight, on this flat screen!” 

“I wanna look at the room service menu,” Gerard grinned. “Y/N, you can have anything you want. Just let me know.” 

“Thanks, Gee,” you grinned. “Should we get champagne to toast with, at midnight?” 

“I’ll get it for you three,” Gerard shrugged. “For me? I guess I’ll order a club soda. If they put it in a fancy glass, I can still clink it with yours when the clock strikes twelve.” 

“Yeah, that works,” Frank agreed. “Looks almost the same.”

You frowned. That’s right, you remembered. Gerard is about two and a half years sober now. 

You remembered going to see them, at their Englishtown show, during Warped Tour ‘04. Gerard had been a mess. You hadn’t seen him in two or three months, and you were shocked how much he’d deteriorated. You’d felt helpless. If you’d had more time, maybe you could have talked some sense into him. But, the very next day, he had to get back on his bus, and head to another gig, in Pennsylvania. 

Frank had called you on the phone, maybe a week later, and told you Gerard had decided to get clean, on his own. You didn’t know how, or why. You didn’t know fifty percent, of what went on in your friends’ heads anymore. 

“.....Y/N?” Frank called, his voice stunning you out of your thoughts. 

“Sorry,” you blinked. “Did you say something?” 

“Yeah, I said I’m going out to the balcony, to have a smoke,” Frank replied. “I asked you if you wanted to come with me?”

“Oh….yeah, sure,” you nodded, and followed him out. “Got a light?” 

“Here,” Frank said, pulling a lighter out of his pocket, and handing it to you. 

You took a pack of Marlboros out of your purse, and lit one. “Thanks,” you said, handing it back. 

Frank lit his own cigarette, and took a drag. You glanced over at him as you inhaled the nicotine, watching how the cool night breeze tousled his hair. 

“I thought you said on the phone, that  you were trying to quit,” Frank raised an eyebrow. 

“I should,” you sighed, exhaling smoke. “I know it’s bad for me.”

“Sorry for being a bad influence,” Frank laughed. “I know I got no room to talk.”

“It’s not your fault,” you shrugged, taking another puff. “I guess I’m just stressed tonight.” 

“About what?” Frank asked, looking at you curiously. 

“It’s stupid,” you mumbled. 

“Tell me,” Frank insisted, taking his free hand in yours again. Your heart raced at his casual touch. 

“I just…,” you sighed, unsure how to begin. “I never see you guys anymore.” 

“I’m sorry,” Frank frowned. 

“No, don’t be,” you shook your head. “I’m being selfish. I should be happy for you, right? It’s a good thing, that the band has gotten so successful, that you have fans in practically every city in the world, that want to see you.” 

“Yeah, they get to see me,” Frank groaned. “But, I don’t get to see my friends, or family - any of the people I love most - for months at a time.” 

The people he loves most. Your face reddened. Did you really fit into that category? 

“After tonight,” you asked, “how long will you be in town?” 

“The first night of the tour is February 22nd,” Frank explained. “The gig’s in New Hampshire, so we’ll be flying out the night before.” 

“So we have….slightly less than two months, to spend time together,” you calculated. “And after that, the next time you’ll be in my neck of the woods is…?” 

“Bamboozle Festival,” Frank replied. “That’s in May.” 

“Wow,” you frowned. “Are you playing all three days of the festival, or…?”

“Nah, just one,” Frank said sheepishly. “We’ll be in Jersey for a night….the very next day, we’ll be playing a gig in fuckin’ Maine.”

“The fun never stops, I guess,” you deadpanned. 

“I mean, it is fun,” Frank admitted. “I love being a musician. Playing my guitar, onstage, is all I’ve wanted to do, my entire life.” 

“Yeah, it’s your dream,” you said quickly, “that’s why I should just shut up, and let you…”

“You don’t have to shut up,” Frank interrupted. “Y/N, I want you to tell me how you feel.” 

“How do I feel, Frank?” you repeated, your emotions starting to get the best of you. “I feel like I don’t even know my friends at all anymore! I don’t want you to turn into a stranger, whose laugh I could recognize anywhere. I’m still working the same dead end job I had the day I met you….but your life has completely changed. You’re gone 80% of the year, and yeah, I know you text or call me whenever you can, but when I’m not there face to face, I still miss so much of your life! You used to be just….a guy next door, that I could listen to records and smoke with. Now you’re some….millionaire rock star. That coat you’ve got on right now is probably worth more than my first car, and you’ve probably got girls in every town, throwing their panties at you…” 

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t look twice at any of those girls,” Frank said, looking you in the eye, “if a certain someone, told me, that she wanted me to be hers, and hers alone.”

A certain someone….? you gasped. Did he mean…?

“Hey!” a voice interrupted, and you jumped, as the sliding glass door slid open, and Gerard stepped onto the balcony. “There you guys are!” 

“H-hey,” you stammered, taken aback. 

“Everything alright?” Gerard asked, raising a quizzical eyebrow. 

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s cool,” Frank mumbled, not looking at you at all, as he stubbed his cigarette out in the ashtray. “What did you need?”

“We’ve got about five minutes til midnight,” Gerard smiled. “Figured you guys would want to come back inside, so we can count down the last seconds of 2006 together.” 

“Oh, right, of course,” you blinked. “Did room service already bring up the champagne flutes?”

“Yeah, they’re ready to go,” Gerard nodded. “....Wait. Where’s Mikey?” 

“We thought he was with you,” Frank said, looking confused. 

“No,” Gerard shook his head. “I went to the bathroom, and when I came back out, he was gone. If he’s not on the balcony with you guys, where did he go?” 

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “Maybe he went to his and Ray’s room?” 

“Oh, yeah, that would make sense,” Gerard nodded. “Let’s go get him.” 

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

Gerard knocked loudly on the hotel room door. 

“Come on, Mikey!” he called. “We got three minutes til midnight, you’re gonna miss the ball drop, dude!” 

The door swung open, but instead of Mikey, a sleepy-looking Ray answered. 

“Mikey’s not in here,” Ray said with a yawn. “It’s just me.”

“Oh, sorry for waking you up, man,” Gerard apologized. 

“Wait,” Frank realized. “If he’s not in either hotel room, then, where is he?” 

“Maybe he went to go get ice?” Ray suggested. 

“Or maybe he went downstairs, to ask the front desk guy something,” you guessed. 

“Let’s split up,” Frank suggested. “You guys go down the hall and see if he’s by the ice machine. Y/N and I will look for him downstairs.” 

“Yeah, we can do that,” Gerard agreed. “Hopefully we’ll find him before the end of the year!” 

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

“This elevator’s taking too long to get up here,” Frank said impatiently, hitting the down-arrow button a second time. 

“Wanna just take the stairs?” you suggested. 

“Works for me,” Frank shrugged. 

You followed him into the stairwell, your heart still pounding from the conversation on the balcony. What would have happened, you wondered, if Gerard hadn’t walked in when he did? 

Frank kept his eyes on the flight of stairs in front of you, not saying a word, as you walked past the sign, indicating that you were now on the second floor. 

“Maybe he didn’t go this wa...oh, fuck,” Frank gasped, coming to a sudden stop.  

Your blood froze, when you saw what he was looking at. Mikey’s unconscious body, lay sprawled across the bottom steps. He was face down….he didn’t even look like he was breathing. 

“Mikey, oh my god!” You ran to his side, flipping him over, so that you could see his face. “Frank, we have to help him!” 

The bassist looked deathly pale, and his lips had turned a horrifying shade of blue. You felt for a pulse. It was there, but it was disturbingly weak.

“Come on, Mikey, wake up!” you pleaded, shaking his shoulders. “Oh my god, what’s wrong with him?!” 

“I think he’s overdosing,” Frank realized, kneeling by your side. 

“On what?!” you gasped. 

“On whatever he went downstairs, to pick up from his dealer,” Frank growled. “Goddamnit! We need to call 911.” 

“Mikey!” a familiar voice called, and Gerard and Ray burst into the stairwell. 

“Oh, god!” Gerard gasped, when he saw his brother, lying eerily still in your arms. 

“I’m trying to wake him up!” you explained. “It’s not working...fuck, what do I do?” 

“He needs a doctor,” Ray realized, whipping out his cell phone. “....Hello? Yes, we’re having an emergency…...the Knickerbocker Hotel….umm, Six Times Square….please hurry….my friend isn’t breathing…” 

You shook Mikey’s shoulders again. His eyes fluttered open, but his pupils were like pinpricks. He gasped and choked, like he couldn’t get air into his lungs. 

“Come on, Mikey, hang in there!” you begged. Oh god, what if he died?!

You could see the headlines now. World Tour Canceled After Bassist’s Hospitalization. You’d wanted more time with Frank….but not like this, damnit! 

Since when did your oldest friend’s kid brother do smack?! 

I really don’t know anything about them anymore, you realized, tears clouding your vision as you listened to him wheeze. Minutes felt like hours. 

“Out of the way!” called an unfamiliar voice, and you gaped as two paramedics dragged a stretcher down the stairs. 

“Ma’am, we need to move him,” a uniformed woman barked. “Time is of the essence.” 

You let the EMT scoop Mikey up, and load him onto the gurney. 

“What did he take?” the second paramedic asked. 

“I….I don’t know,” you stammered. “We just found him like this.” 

“Ma’am,” the man pressed, “we’re not here to judge anybody. But, any information you have, can help us figure out what antidote he needs…”

“Here,” Frank said. “I found this next to his body.” 

He handed the paramedic a needle. Oh, god. 

“I see,” the paramedic nodded grimly. “Judith! Get this man two milligrams of naloxone, stat!” 

“Is….is he gonna be okay?!” Gerard gasped, tears in his eyes. “That’s my baby brother….”

“We’re going to try our best to save him, sir,” the female paramedic (Judith) promised. “We need to move him to the hospital, as soon as possible.” 

“We’re only going to be able to fit two extra people in the ambulance,” the male paramedic warned. “Who’s going?” 

“Me,” Gerard said immediately. “He’s my family!” 

“Who else?” the paramedic demanded. “We don’t have time to waste.” 

Mikey gasped for air on the gurney, his face growing bluer by the minute. 

“I’ll go,” Ray decided. “Frank, you stay here with Y/N, okay?” 

“O-okay,” Frank stammered. You clung to him,shaking, as you watched the paramedics drag your friend out of the hallway, to the ambulance waiting outside. 

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

“.....Happy New Year!” the oblivious voice of Ryan Seacrest rang out from the television screen, as you walked back into the hotel room, wiping your eyes on your sleeve. 

Confetti was falling in Times Square, as the credits rolled. You’d missed the countdown. There had been no toast, no midnight kiss (although perhaps, the latter had been foolish to even hope for.) 

“This wasn’t how 2007 was supposed to start,” Frank sobbed, sinking down onto the bed. “Fuck!” 

“H-he’s gonna be okay,” you stammered. “The doctors are gonna save his life…”

“You don’t know that!” Frank cried, kicking a bottle of Dom Perignon off the coffee table. It shattered, sending broken glass and alcohol all over the floor. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry, Y/N,” Frank apologized, kneeling to pick up the shards. “I shouldn’t have done that…”

“Ssh, stop, you’re gonna cut yourself,” you warned, grabbing his hands. “We can clean that up later, okay? I understand that you’re only lashing out, because you’re scared…” 

“Of course I’m scared,” Frank wept, burying his head in your shoulder. “That’s one of my best friends.” 

“He’s my friend, too,” you said softly, stroking Frank’s hair. “I’m scared, too, but there’s nothing we can do now, but pray.” 

You sat down on the bed, and Frank sat with you, still sobbing into your shirt. You were choking back tears yourself. 

“I….I didn’t know he was doing that stuff,” you said guiltily. “I’m never around you guys anymore….I….”

“I didn’t realize the extent of the problem, either,” Frank confessed. “And I’m with the kid almost every day. I should’ve noticed, but I was too self absorbed, doing my own dumb shit…” 

“Ssh, it’s not your fault, Frankie,” you soothed. “We got him, to the people that can help him. That’s all we can do.” 

“It doesn’t feel like enough,” Frank sniffed, still clinging to you tightly. 

“No,” you agreed, your heart aching, “it doesn’t.” 

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

You woke the next morning, to the feeling of warmth against your side. Your eyes fluttered open, and you realized that Frank was sleeping next to you. What?!

Your cheeks reddened as you stared at his sleeping face, so close to your own. “...Frank? Why are you…?”

Reality filtered back into your head, slowly, as you recalled the events of the previous night. Oh god….Mikey! 

Was he okay? You still didn’t know. You and Frank had sat beside each other on the hotel room bed, crying, clinging to each other for comfort. You supposed you had fallen asleep like that. 

“.....Huh?” Frank groaned sleepily. “Y/N…?” 

He shot up, jerking away from you, almost as soon as he realized, that your bodies were touching. “I...I’m sorry!”

“N-no, it’s fine…” you stammered. 

“Fuck….I need to check my messages,” Frank realized, groping for his cell phone on the bedside table. He sat up,and put his feet on the floor. “Owww!”

“What’s wrong?” you gasped. 

“I just stepped on a shard of the bottle I broke last night...fuck!” Frank swore. 

“Oh no,” you winced. “Is it bleeding?” 

“No, it’s just cut a little,” Frank shook his head. 

“Do you want me to call the front desk,” you offered, “and see if they can bring up some Band-Aids?”

“No, it’s not that serious,” Frank insisted, opening his flip phone. His eyes widened, as he clicked through his inbox. “Oh….oh, thank god…” 

“What?” you demanded. 

“Ray texted me, around like two in the morning,” Frank explained. “He said Mikey’s gonna make it. The doctors were able to reverse the overdose in time, and he’s gonna make a full recovery.”

“Oh, thank goodness!” you cried, tearing up from sheer relief. You had been so scared, that Ray’s text, would say that Mikey hadn’t survived. He’s gonna be okay. He’s alive. 

Frank, however, didn’t share your grateful smile. 

“What’s wrong?” you asked. 

“I’m sorry that you had to see that, last night,” Frank frowned. “We ruined your New Year’s Eve.” 

“It’s not your fault,” you shook your head. “I’m glad I was there, to help you find him. I wouldn’t have wanted you to go through this alone.” 

“I hate to ask you for even more help,” Frank grimaced, “but, we need to clean this shit up.”

“You’re right,” you nodded, leaning down to help him pick up the glass shards. “It wouldn’t be fair, to leave it for the hotel staff to pick up.” 

“Some bands dig trashing hotel rooms,” Frank sighed, grabbing a towel from the bathroom, to mop up the puddle of champagne. “Not me, though. I feel bad, making a mess, that some housekeeper is gonna have to deal with.” 

He’s a kind person, you thought to yourself, as you carefully placed the pieces of bottle into a waste basket. Not everyone would take the time to do this, after the night we had. 

“Shit, look at this,” Frank sighed, pointing down at the hardwood floor. “Nobody blew out the stupid scented candle, that Housekeeping lit before we checked in, to make the place smell pretty. Now, there’s dried wax all over the floorboards.” 

“You had bigger things to worry about last night,” you reminded. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even notice the candle was still burning, with everything else going on. I would’ve reminded you to put it out.” 

“That’s not your job,” Frank said, pulling a guitar pick from his pocket. He tried to use it to scrape some of the wax up, but it didn’t seem to want to budge. “None of this is your job.” 

“What do you mean?” you blinked. 

“You said last night, that you don’t see us for months at a time,” Frank reasoned, scraping harder with his pick. “And then...last night, you finally see us again, and this happens.”  

“You couldn’t have predicted something like that,” you assured him. 

“We complicate your life, Y/N,” Frank frowned. “I complicate your life. You don’t need this fucking drama. The best thing I could for you, is probably just leave you alone. Stop inviting you to see us when we’re in town. I’ve grown apart from a lot of friends since I left New Jersey. Why can’t I just let this relationship go, too?” 

“I don’t want you to do that!” you protested. “Frank, our friendship is really important to me. I would be miserable if you suddenly stopped inviting me to hang out.” 

“I don’t just want to hang out with you,” Frank mumbled. “I want more than that.” 

“....Huh?” you cocked your head. 

“But it’s not fair, for me to ask you for that,” Frank signed. “Not when I know damn well, that I’m about to spend the majority of 2007, hundreds of miles away from you.” 

“Ask me for what?” you demanded. You suddenly remembered the words, he had spoken to you on the balcony, before your night had gone straight to hell. 

“I wouldn’t look twice, at any of those girls, if  a certain someone, told me, that she wanted me to be hers, and hers alone.”

“Nothing,” Frank murmured, picking fruitlessly at the wax on the floor again. “It’s stupid. Ignore me.”

“I won’t ignore it,” you insisted. “Frank, what were you going to ask me?” 

Frank looked at his shoes. 

You sat down on the floor next to him, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder. “....Frank?” 

“I was going to ask you...to be mine,” Frank confessed. 

You gasped, audibly. No way….he really felt the same way about you, that you did about him?!

“But, it’s not right, for me to ask you, to make that commitment to me!” Frank said miserably. “Not when I’m just gonna disappear on you again. And...you saw, last night, what my life has turned into. What my band has turned into. I’m a mess….why would you want to be with someone like me?” 

“Frankie, I love you,” you said plainly. Now that you knew he returned your feelings, there was no point in hiding it anymore. “I’ve loved you for years.” 

He raised his head to look at you. His hazel eyes, swimming with tears again, stared into yours. “You….you mean that?” 

“Yes,” you said emotionally. “I’ve been in love with you for so long….but, you’re a famous rock star now. I’m still just an art school dropout. You can do so much better than me.” 

“Funny,” Frank chuckled bitterly, “I was about to say the same thing, about you.”

“Frank, there isn’t anybody better than you,” you sighed, and grabbed him by the collar, pulling him into a searing kiss. 

His lips met yours, hesitant at first, but then suddenly you were toppling to the floor, as he pressed himself against you, with four years worth of buried desire. 

Life was so short. You realized that now. 

His hands tangled into your hair as he kissed you over and over. “Be mine,” he gasped, coming up for air. “Please be mine, Y/N….even if it fucks up everything…” 

“Frankie, it’s okay,” you assured him, as you gazed up at him tenderly. “I don’t care if you’re gone a hundred nights. You’re worth waiting for. Just promise me, that when you do finally come home, I can….have you.” 

“Oh, you can have me any way you want me,” Frank breathed, leaning down to kiss you passionately again. “I won’t touch anyone else while I’m away on tour….nobody else is as beautiful as you. You’re the only one that I want.”

“You’re the only one that I want, too, Frankie,” you promised him, claiming his mouth once again. “I want you every day. Not just when you’re the toast of the town. Not just when times are good. I want to be there with you, through the bad times, too. I want to help you when you’re scared, or even when something fucked up happens, like last night... because I love you. I’ll stay with you, no matter what….even when it’s hard, or it’s wrong, or you’re making mistakes. I don’t care. I just want to be with you.” 

“I want to be with you, too, Y/N,” Frank vowed, kissing your eyes, your nose, your mouth. It was like he couldn’t get enough. “You’re the woman I choose….because, hey, there might be lots of women who’d love to be my New Year’s Eve kiss. But, you’re the only woman I know, who would stick by my side, helping me clean up bottles on New Year’s Day.”

[sodamvelvets]

“ilysb”

park sooyoung x fem idol reader

warnings: intense make out at the start?

word count: 2,790

a/n: this one is inspired by LANY’s ILYSB, it’s my favorite song at the moment :) As promised, Yeri will be next! I really like how this one turned out, so I hope you guys like it too!

Sooyoung wakes up with her arms wrapped tightly around you, your head buried in the crook of her neck. Your soft breaths tickle her skin, causing Sooyoung to smile broadly as she presses a feather-light kiss onto the top of your skull, breathing in the scent of your shampoo. 

“I love you,” She whispers, not caring that in your sleeping state you won’t hear her.

Gently, she tucks a strand of your unkempt hair behind your ear, careful not to wake you, stopping for a moment to admire your delicate features. As she takes in your peaceful expression Sooyoung is certain that no one has ever made her feel the way she feels about you before. No one has ever been able to make her heartbeat quicken to the point where she thinks it will jump from her chest, with just the smallest smile. No one has ever been able to leave her wordless, struggling to even form a single sentence. And most importantly, no one has ever been able to make Sooyoung feel as if she’d move mountains just to hear your elegant laugh. 

Before you, Sooyoung occasionally found herself regretting her decision to become an idol. Despite the fact that she loved singing, and even more so her fans, but sometimes she wished she could have a normal life, where her every move wasn’t stalked and critiqued. Her life often felt like she was walking a thin and endless tightrope, where a single misstep would cause her to fall to her doom. It was difficult, finding a balance of her private life and her public one, and while her members also struggled with the same thing, she felt they didn’t truly understand her, none of them ever seemed to be unhappy with their choice to be an idol in the way Sooyoung was, and not wanting to appear ungrateful, she kept it to herself. But then she met you and all doubts about her career disappeared because she realized if she hadn’t become a singer, she would never have met you. 

It was backstage at one of Red Velvet’s promotional Inkigayo stages when she first saw you, waiting silently to perform with your bandmates and listening intently to your leader’s encouraging words. All of you were part of a still relatively new rookie group under YG Entertainment. At the time, Sooyoung had only briefly heard of you before, having heard short clips of your newest title track on the radio, but until then, she had never actually seen you and your members. But when her eyes landed on your group, more specifically you, her jaw dropped. 

Like many idols under YG, you had a striking beauty, and you held yourself with a certain cold confidence that left an icy feeling in your wake, something your makeup artists definitely played up to, making sure to paint your face in a mature and intimidating way that left Sooyoung staring. Sooyoung was only further smitten as she watched your performance, a bad girl concept that you and your bandmates nailed, your body rolls and intense moves leaving Sooyoung gaping, which Yerim had, of course, made sure to tease her for, the troublesome maknae even going as far to approach your group, and give you Sooyoung’s personal number with a smirk, all while Sooyoung watched with reddened cheeks. 

That had been almost a year and a half ago though, and now the two of you were in a fairly open relationship, both of your companies surprisingly having agreed to let the two of you go public, with a few restrictions of course. 

“Hey Sooyoung,” A smile spreads across Sooyoung’s face as she hears your husking voice.

“Hi Y/N,” Sooyoung says, shifting her body so your noses are touching, appreciating the way the golden flecks of your brown eyes sparkle in the morning sun. “How did you sleep?”

“Good,” You murmur, snaking a hand under Sooyoung’s shirt and beginning to draw circles on her abdomen. “Last night was very tiring.”

Sooyoung chuckles, moving to kiss you, but you shove her away. “Ew, morning breath.” You whine, opening your mouth to continue before Sooyoung quickly cuts you off by flipping you on your back and straddling your waist, wearing a dangerous expression that makes you swallow thickly as the words die in your throat, no longer testifying as she captures your lips with her own in a bruising kiss, nipping at your bottom lip as her tongue tangles with yours, moaning into your mouth. Her palms press you deeper into the mattress causing you to whimper as her kiss becomes rougher, her fingers moving to tangle themselves amongst your already messy hair as she presses her knee in between your legs causing you to let out a surprised gasp. 

At the sound, Sooyoung instantly pulls herself away, wearing a knowing grin. “So, I was thinking we could drive out to the Gwangjang Market,” Sooyoung says casually, still hovering over you as your body squirms slightly, trying to escape her grasp. 

“Isn’t that a little far away?” You huff breathlessly as Sooyoung begins to teasingly kiss down your jaw. 

“Yeah,” She says, groaning as you finally manage to push her off, and by the annoyed look in your eyes, she gets the sense that you’ve figured out she was simply trying to work you up without actually finishing anything. “But the bindaetteok is worth it.”

You laugh, and Sooyoung pulls your body so your head is resting on her chest. “Fine,” You say. “But you better keep your hands to yourself, Park Sooyoung.”

///

“You look good,” Sooyoung comments with a lopsided smile as you step out of your shared walk-in closet, wearing a pair of ripped jeans and a Lie Collection T-shirt, coupled with one of Sooyoung’s leather jackets. It’s a much better outfit, Sooyoung thinks, than her plain black slacks and white blouse.

You raise a brow. “You’re only saying that because this jacket is yours.” You respond, a teasing lilt in your voice. 

Sooyoung stands, her taller form towering over you as she wraps her arms around your waist. “Maybe.”

You giggle and poke her side, causing her to let out a melodramatic yelp. “Sooyoung,” You say, rolling your eyes. “We should get going, it takes an hour to get there.”

Sooyoung holds your hand throughout the car ride, the two of you making comfortable small talk as Sooyoung drives through the already busy roads of Seoul. Occasionally, she steals glances at you, admiring your serene expression as you watch the colorful billboards pass by, quickly directing her attention forwards when you look over at Sooyoung, knowing if you caught her staring you’d chide her and tell Sooyoung to keep her eyes on the road. 

“We’re here,” Sooyoung says as she pulls to stop in a public parking garage a couple miles away from the market. “Well kind of, we have to walk the rest of the way, if that’s alright?”

“That’s fine Sooyoung,” You say, moving to get out, but Sooyoung grabs your wrist.

“Wait, don’t move.”

Sooyoung hears you chuckle as she gets out of the car, walking around to open the passenger side door and offering you her hand, which you take. “I see Seungwan is starting to rub off on you,” You joke. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sooyoung asks as the two of you head for the garage exit.

You shrug. “The both of you are unbelievably greasy Sooyoung.” 

Sooyoung lightly shoves you, feigning offense, before reaching into her bag and producing two pairs of sunglasses. Even though the two of you are out to the public, Sooyoung would still prefer if neither of your fans were to recognize you and interrupt your date today. “Put these on.” 

You nod, taking them from Sooyoung and slipping them on just before the two of you step into the bustling street. 

“It’s a nice day,” Sooyoung notes, glancing up at the clear blue skies. “Jongmyo Park is just behind us, we should go later.”

“Sure, it’s been a while since we last went there.” You say, reaching to interlace your fingers with Sooyoung’s but she dodges your grasp, instead slipping her hand into your back pocket, and pulling you into her side.

Sooyoung laughs as your cheeks redden, enjoying your flustered state as well as the feeling of your smaller body fitting perfectly into hers. 

It takes you and Sooyoung about thirty minutes to reach the market, Sooyoung complaining it would’ve taken less time if you hadn’t insisted on stopping to take photos for your social media along the way, which only earns her a slap to the back of her head. 

As usual, Gwangjang is crowded with people, tourists and locals alike, and Sooyoung holds you close as you weave through the masses, pointing out stalls here and there that she notices are selling your favorite dishes, before eventually settling on a vendor. 

“I’m not all that hungry,” You murmur into Sooyoung’s ear. “I’ll just have some of whatever you get.”

Sooyoung raises a brow, and orders two plates of bindaetteok and a side of japchae, knowing you’d want your own once you started eating some of Sooyoung’s. 

“Sooyoung,” You whine as she passes the shop owner twenty thousand won. “I have a comeback soon, I can’t be eating this type of stuff!”

Sooyoung frowns, in her opinion, you’ve always been too harsh on yourself during your dieting periods. “Y/N, you’re going to need your energy for your practice from somewhere.” She scolds, pushing the food into your hands. “Plus it’s only one dish, and knowing you, you’ll burn it off in seconds.”

Hesitantly you nod, sitting down next to Sooyoung at the stall’s table, Sooyoung watching as you begin to eat and laughing at the way your eyes light up at the taste. 

“Thank you, Sooyoung,” You say, kissing her cheek as both of you finish your breakfasts, and stand to leave, Sooyoung once again wrapping an arm around your waist. 

She hums contentedly in response, giving you a warm smile that you gladly return. Sooyoung’s gaze flicks from store to store as you and her walk towards one of the many market exits, quietly admiring the delicately crafted silk hanboks that are displayed in some of the shop entrances. 

As the two of you step outside, Sooyoung notices the sun is slightly lower in the sky than when you first entered Gwangjang, and the air feels a few degrees colder. 

“Still want to go to Jongmyo?” Sooyoung questions. 

You nod. “Mm-hmm.”

A comfortable silence settles between you and Sooyoung as you walk, your footsteps falling into a synchronized pace, Sooyoung adoringly watching as you excitedly point out stores that interest you, squealing when you spot a poster featuring you and your group in your latest partnership with a popular makeup brand and she chuckles as you delightedly take a picture of the ad to send to your members, beginning to text back and forth with them. 

Sooyoung appreciates the new outlook you’ve brought to her life that makes her so much more grateful for moments like these. She loves the youthfulness you’ve given her but also the wisdom, and in a way you remind her of Joohyun, both of you sharing a seemingly icy personality, that once melted reveals a gentle and caring person who while sometimes childish, can also be mature and professional. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You ask as you look up from your phone. 

Sooyoung blinks, not realizing she had been staring. “What?”

You smirk. “You were staring like a creep.”

Sooyoung rolls her eyes, pulling you into her arms. “Is it so wrong for me to want to admire my beautiful girlfriend?” She mumbles into your hair. 

“I suppose not,” You say, reaching up to pinch Sooyoung’s cheek, Sooyoung surprising even herself, when she doesn’t swat your hand away. “You know,” You whisper teasingly. “If your members saw this, they’d say you’re getting soft.”

“I am not,” Sooyoung pouts, lightly pushing you away from her, causing you to laugh boisterously, and Sooyoung can’t help but let her scowl turn to a smile at the sound, interlacing her fingers with yours, and wordlessly letting you know you’re already forgiven as the two of you walk the rest of the way to Jongmyo, only stopping once you reach the park’s small pond where a tiny island sits with a large bonsai growing from its center. 

Sooyoung sighs happily as you lean into her side, resting your head on her shoulder. 

“I really missed this, Sooyoung,” You say suddenly. 

Sooyoung glances at you curiously, biting her lip. “Missed what?”

“Just being with you,” You sigh. “Our schedules haven’t been lining up recently, with my group’s upcoming comeback and your sponsorships,” A sad chuckle escapes your lips. “So I guess it’s just nice to be with you finally.”

It’s true, Sooyoung realizes, you’ve both been so busy lately that this is the first time in weeks you’ve been able to have a day to yourself. Despite living together, Sooyoung barely sees you around, unless it’s dead asleep in your bed, exhausted from a long day of practice. 

“Y/N,” Sooyoung says, turning your body so she can cup your face. “You don’t know how much I wish I could always be with you, but right now we only have this time together, so we have to make do with what we have. Plus,” Sooyoung adds, stroking your cheek. “Once you nail your comeback and finish promotions we’ll have even more time to be with each other.”

“Why do you always have to be right Sooyoung?” You murmur, hugging Sooyoung tightly. 

“It’s a talent,” Sooyoung jokes, frowning as she feels your body tense in her grasp.

“Someone’s watching us,” You whisper into Sooyoung’s neck. 

Sooyoung glances over your head, and sure enough, she spots a tall form standing across the pond in the shade of a tree. She squints, unable to make out any distinguishing features except the camera in their hands that is clearly angled at the two of you. “Let them,” She growls, capturing your lips in a rough and possessive kiss, her fingers digging into your hips as she holds you impossibly close, the world around her fading, becoming one about only you and the feeling of your body against hers. 

///

The photos of your date are already circulating the web by the time you and Sooyoung get home, and Sooyoung can’t help but laugh at you as you sit at the kitchen table scrolling through Dispatch’s latest article dubbing you ‘Korea’s Favorite Couple’, a blush clearly evident on your face. 

“I can’t believe they managed to follow us,” You mutter, closing your laptop and leaning back in your chair wearing a face of disbelief. “They even have pictures of us at Gwangjang, and that place is so crowded it’s nearly impossible to follow anyone.”

“Nothing is impossible for Dispatch,” Sooyoung jokes, leaning against the counter as she scrolls through her music playlists, before eventually selecting Somethin’ Kinda Crazy with a smirk, setting her phone down as the first verses begin to play.  

“Seriously?” You ask, making an unimpressed expression, immediately recognizing Seulgi and Seungwan’s distinct voices. “You’re playing your own song?”

Sooyoung shrugs, choosing to ignore your words as she walks behind you, wrapping her arms around you and starting to pepper your neck with kisses. “Dance with me,” She says quietly.

You giggle, clearly surprised by the request. “What?”

“Dance with me,” Sooyoung repeats, a begging look in her eyes. “Please?” She quickly adds, noticing your raised brow. 

“Fine,” You say, swatting Sooyoung away and standing from your seat. 

With a smile, Sooyoung gently places her hands on your hips, beginning to sway your bodies back and forth in sync as your head rests on her shoulder. Sooyoung hums along to the music, twirling you around occasionally and Sooyoung doesn’t think she’s ever been happier. 

A long time ago, Sooyoung regretted becoming an idol, wishing she could have a sense of normalcy. But as she holds you, she realizes she doesn’t regret anything anymore, not only has she found someone that can give her that simple life she’s always craved, but she’s also found someone who can understand her struggles as a celebrity. She’s found her soulmate.

“I like this song,” You murmur as the track shifts to the familiar beat of LANY’s ILYSB, and Sooyoung presses a gentle kiss to your lips, letting the music warp the two of you into your own personal universe.

“I love you, babe, so bad,” Sooyoung sings softly, and despite it being a part of the song, Sooyoung means every word of it, she does love you, so very bad. 

[cornellgissing]

I like to watch the sun come up as well.

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[carnationdoe]

Talking about you (Hyung line)

Just to make it clear, this --> «Korean» means that they are speaking korean and when using “English” they are speaking English

Kim Seokjin ‘Jin’

“So, the last time we talked, you guys were at the billboard music award where you won Top social artist and top group, so first congratulation on that” Ellen announced, once the seven Korean guys had introduced themselves. “Thank you very much, Ellen” Namjoon said on behalf of the others and they all gave her a sincere smile. “But you – RM – also brought something up on the red carpet.”

“So…” Ellen started before being interrupted by the loud cheering from the audience once again. “I haven’t even said anything” – “are anyone of you dating someone?” Ellen continued, as the cheering from the audience died down.

All seven of them whined, as they all dreaded these kinds of questions. However, Jin couldn’t help but feel his face becoming hot and red and he wasn’t the only one who noticed.  “It looks like Jin has someone speciel in mind, yes?” mischievous smile curved up the corners of Ellen’s lips.

“What?” Jin asked with a thick accent, playing dumb. “Are you dating anyone at the moment, Jin?”. At that moment he knew that he had been caught red-handed which made his face flush even harder. 

“Just friends” Jin managed to say without too much stutter. Ellen smiled even bigger than before, not believing a word he said. “A friend you want to date?”  She emphasised the last four words, earning ‘oh’ and laughter from the audience. 

That was all it took to break down Jin’s walls down, before looking at Namjoon and saying; «We enjoy each others company». 

“He says that...” Namjoon began to translate after making sure that Jin knew what he was doing, “that they are friends who are enjoying each others company.” before he himself began adding a few facts so Jin wasn’t singled out. “We are actually all friends with each other and enjoy a movie night every now and then when we have time.”

The rest of the group were nodding once Namjoon finished talking, trying their best to make it more believable, even though it was true. But it seemed that Ellen didn’t quite believe them.

“But it seems as if,” she shifted in her seat, placing a hand under her chin as if to think, “Jin is enjoying her company more than the rest of you. Am I right?”

A smile had found its way to Jin's face before, the words slipped past his lips. «We’re... she laughs at my jokes and we cook together. What more to wish for.» and then he chuckled awkwardly and looked down at Namjoon who was shaking his head.

“Sorry, I’m not translating that” Namjoon announced before anyone could get the chance to ask.  

“Does it really make a difference, since it will be translated later on anyway?” Ellen protested, which simply made the seven boys smile. 

“Yeah, let's wait for that then.” Namjoon said with a chuckle, and the other six boys joined while Ellen let out a sigh. 

Min Yoongi ‘Suga’

You and Yoongi had been talking to each other for a few months and things were slowly developing into more than just friends. You were being a bit hesitant about officially calling it a relationship; because of how hectic Yoongi’s schedule was and you didn’t want to jump into that kind of relationship without being sure that that was what both of you wanted. 

Today was no different: Yoongi was in London, United Kingdom to perform at Wembley together with his six group members. He was sitting in the makeup chair having his makeup and hair done and as soon as he was finished, he jumped down the chair. 

He was walking around aimlessly backstage when his ears picked up on the frantic screaming from the audience on the other side of the black curtains.

He suddenly became nervous, and when Yoongi became nervous, he showed it through silence. He clenched and unclenched his fists, before walking away from the spot he had been standing and found an empty room.

“Yoongi?” He could hear the softness in your voice through the phone. He couldn’t help but smile. “Hello Y/N-ie” – “I’m sorry for calling.” He could almost hear you rolling your eyes as he apologised for waking you up. 

“mmm, don’t be. What do you need, love?” He knew that you wouldn’t let it go before he told the reason behind the call; “I don’t kn-… I’m nervous” He stuttered out the last three words. 

A light chuckle could be heard through the phone. “Yoongi, no matter what you do you do great and even if, if you made a mistake ARMY and I will still love and support you.” You said genuinely. 

“Thank you” He said shyly, before you ended your call with ‘goodbyes’ and kiss through the phone.

“Who were you talking to?” Jimin asked and a blush quickly found its way onto Yoongis face. Jimin couldn’t help but think that Yoongi looked genuinely happy.

 “Y/N” Yoongi said and shrugged as if it was nothing special, but Jimin looked right through it. 

“And who is this Y/N?” Jimin asked in a sly manner. It caught Yoongi by surprise; “I mean what is they to you?” Jimin continued.

“We need to go on stage” Yoongi tried to deflect the questions, but he didn’t succeed.

Jimin took hold of Yoongi’s arm; “Hyung, it wasn’t meant like that. You just seem so happy”

Yoongis characteristic gummy smile found its way on to his face, as he thought of you. It didn’t go unnoticed by Jimin.

“I’m happy Mochi... She makes me happy and calms me down when I need it the most”

Jung Hoseok ‘J-Hope’

Earlier that day you had received a text from your boyfriend, Hoseok, informing that he would be at the dance studio with the others; training for the next concert. It wasn’t as if it was anything new. He had been spending every single day at either the dance studio or the studio, so you hadn’t been seeing much of him these days.

It had become a habit of yours to enjoy the mornings by yourself in bed and later studying for your exams, but today were different. You had come up with the brilliant idea that you would be visiting Hoseok at lunch.

You were leaning up against the doorframe. Your eyes only focused on one of the dancing forms before you. He was in his element; it was easy to see. You hadn’t realized that the music had stopped and so had the people before you.

“Hey Y/N” The six other Korean boys yelled, as Hoseok walked towards you. He pulled you into a tight hug as he withdrew, he gave you a cheeky smile “Why are you here?”

“I missed you, Hobi” you stated and showed off the paper bag in your hand “I even brought pajeon. It should be good for you since you are training so hard and…”

Hoseok gave you a quick kiss on the lips, which made you stop rambling. “Sorry” you mumbled, embarrassed.

He simply chuckled and whispered a thank you to you. “Yeah, thank you Y/N” the six others said with big smiles on their faces as they began to eat.

“You need to marry her” Yoongi said with his mouth stuffed with the homemade pancakes you had brought to them. “Or else I might do it, cus this is amazing!” Jungkook continued where Yoongi had left.

“That’s not gonna happen, Jungkook” Hoseok gave him the ‘evil eye’ “Y/N isn’t into babies” Hoseok continued in a serious manner, but had a cheeky smile.

“She is into men” Hoseok stated. He couldn’t help but break into a little dance still with a cheeky smile plastered on his face; “A man like me-e-e-e!” he sang happily.

They all broke out in laughter and Hoseok joined them. 

Kim Namjoon ‘RM’

“Guys, I will answer ten questions and then I will go to bed. Our schedule tomorrow is packed, I have practice in the morning.” Namjoon gave the web camera a tired smile, trying not to yawn.  

“When will you run for President?” He busted out laughing as soon as he had read the question out loud “I heard about this from my friends. I want to change the standards of society, but it will be as an idol” He took in a breath before continuing in a more playful manner; “I’ll be the president for all army’s!”

He read through the comments and kept smiling. Quickly dismissing the comments which wasn’t questions, when he caught sight of your name being mentioned multiple times. He could feel his face heat up and he tried to cover it up with his hands – in a natural way. However, it didn’t do him any good, since the audience had already noticed his change in posture.

When he found a question, which didn’t include you in anyway, he let out a deep sigh. “When will you release the next album?” – “We are actually already working on it”

He was in the middle of replying a question, when you barged through the door singing out his name; “Namjoonie!”. It made him stop dead in his tracks for a few seconds – his cheeks flushing bright pink once again - before he turned around in the chair. He tried to cover you up with his body and the chair; blocking you from the camera.

You raised an eyebrow because of his reaction. “I’m live on Vlive” He explained. As soon as the words had left his mouth you realized what you had just done. 

“Oh shit…  I didn’t know… s-o-o-rr-y” You stuttered. You took a deep breath before rambling: “I thought you wanted company or something like that. Sorry… Eh, you know what, I will just… I will just go now. See ya”

You left the room before Namjoon could stop you. He turned back around and was faced towards the computer and the camera once again. 

He tried to pull of the ‘just-friend’-card with you, but he was easily to see through. The comment section was blowing up. Some comments were stating that he wasn’t being truthful, and others were commenting on how cute you were.

Namjoon couldn’t help but have a stupid lovestruck grin on his face as he read the compliments his fans gave you. 

“She is one of the most amazing persons I have ever meet” He regretted the words as soon as they had left his mouth, but he had now opened up the pandora box.

“She understand me on a whole other level; she actually wants to understand what I’m doing” – “I will introduce her to you another day, but I will have to go now before she talks the ears off the others” Namjoon said with a dumbfounded chuckle and ended the livestream.

[mcwriting]

starstruck (4)

Here it is... finally! It’s ~angsty~ but it was really fun to write. 

I will say, I realized while writing this that the timeline of this fic is sooooo short but hey, its fiction, so I guess anything can happen lol. I tried to resolve it in later chapters but it’s definitely quick moving in these initial chapters. 

There’s a lot of italics in this one lol

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9

Fandom: Thomas Stanley Holland

Ship: Tom Holland x Reader (eventual)

Setting: LA in general

Word Count: 2240 yeet

Warnings: angst, some mild language

Rating: still k+ right now

Last time on starstruck...

“Hey what’s going on? Uh huh. No, we actually have it handled. I might or might not be with her right now… no it’s fine. Seriously, we are laying low! We’re on the way to the hotel right now. Alright, alright I’ll see what I can do. See you in a few.”

And with that, he hung up, turned to you, and said, “That was my manager. Apparently we’ve got a problem.”

                            __________________________________

You pulled underneath the awning of the posh hotel Tom was boarding at, the kind of place you only dreamed of staying.

Sure, your family wasn’t poor, but your parents definitely weren’t the type of people to spend a lot of money on hotels. They claimed to enjoy spending more money on the “fun” parts of vacations than where you slept at night.

To each their own, you supposed.

Tom wanted you to come inside, per request of his manager, so you figured you would drop him off and park so you wouldn’t be seen together. 

The valet had other plans, however, pulling you out of the car and exchanging your keys with a numbered slip of paper. 

It all happened so fast that for a moment you just stood there, stunned. You snapped out of it when the man began to drive off and Tom grabbed you to lead you inside.

The lobby was massive and covered with marble flooring. A large, plush rug covered many of the tiles and on top of it sat some luxurious couches and armchairs, framing a huge TV on the wall. 

On the other side was a long marble counter that seated hotel staff, who stood at the ready upon seeing Tom.

You also couldn’t help but note the smell, a light, sweet floral scent wafting through the air pleasantly. 

This must be rich people scent you thought to yourself.

Due to the nature of it being midday, very few people were seen in the lobby, and Tom led you straight through to a hallway and past the main elevators, his hand resting on your lower back the entire time.

“I have access to a service lift so less people will see,” he explained, as if he’d just read your confused mind.

You walked briskly with Tom through the winding hall, finally ending up at the alternate elevator, where he swiped his key card and the doors slid open with a few creaks.

You tapped your foot nervously as you passed floor by floor, letting go of a breath you didn’t realize you were holding upon reaching the top.

Once again, you followed behind Tom through the hall and to his room. You stood awkwardly in the doorway, clenching onto the straps of your beach bag, as he entered to find more suitable clothing.

After disappearing for a moment, he popped his head back out.

“You can come in, you know. This might take a few minutes.”

You stepped further into his suite, making your way to the sliding doors attached to a balcony. Looking out you could see Los Angeles in full light, the people and cars below feeling so out of reach, like nothing you had ever experienced in your city.

You seemed so out of place in the heavily decorated room still in beach clothing and legs covered in sand.

You could hear Tom rummaging through the drawers and walked over, giving a gentle knock on the open door.

“Having trouble, twinkle toes?” you joked at the way he pillaged through his clothes. He smiled at your commentary.

“Maybe a bit. Do you need anything? A drink, snack? The fridge is stocked so take anything you like.”

You were surprised at his generosity and at how little he cared about paying for that stuff. In your family, everything in the hotel room was off limits if it wasn’t free.

“I think I’m good but do you mind if I use your restroom? I really need to rinse this sand off and put on some real clothes.”

“Go right ahead,” he gestured to the bathroom door.

The bathroom was also massive, especially for a hotel. The shower thankfully had a handheld spray head so you were able to just target and rinse your legs. You tugged on some athletic shorts and a loose tank top to replace your former garments.

You quickly used the toilet too and went to wash your hands, not believing how many fancy soaps and lotions covered the counter. 

As you lathered, a small bottle caught the corner of your eye. It was a light yellowish color and read “OBSESSION for men.” 

Of course he would wear Calvin Klein cologne. Now I know.

You finished up and made a final once over in the mirror, fixing some stray hairs in your ponytail and opening up the door. 

You stopped in your tracks as your eyes laid upon Tom, who was shirtless with his back to you, the elastic of his underwear poking out of his pants’ waistline.

“You’re a pretty big fan of Calvin Klein, huh?” you asked, referring to both the cologne and his boxers. He turned around, giving you a view of his bare chest, which didn’t disappoint, a fact that you pretended was annoying.

“Hah, yeah. I really want to do an ad campaign with them if you couldn’t tell,” he bent over to pick up a shirt from the bed and toss it on. 

“Well with the cologne and underwear you’re pretty much a walking billboard.”

“You like the cologne?” he asked, causing your face to heat up. You knew a blush was present and probably obvious, so you decided not to lie. 

“Yeah, actually I do. It’s a nice scent. It also happens to be all over my bed right now thanks to a certain someone,” you tipped down your chin and raised an eyebrow accusingly. 

“You want it? The company actually sent me like… eight bottles and a bunch of clothes not too long ago after I posted on Instagram about them. I can’t get rid of them fast enough,” he offered, walking towards you.

“What? No! I couldn’t just take that from you. What would I tell my friends when they see men’s cologne bottle in my room? I can’t say ‘oh yeah Tom Holland gave it to me’ and it would be majorly out of character to tell everyone that it’s what you wear.”

He went past you into the bathroom and rummaged through a toiletry bag, muttering an “aha!” when he pulled out another bottle identical to the one on the counter, except this was sealed and full.

“Seriously Tom I can’t just tak-” you started when he dropped the bottle into your bag.

“Whoops,” he quipped, “no take backs. Now your bed can forever smell like me”

You were ready to argue again (with an undeniable smile on your face) when there was a loud rapping on the main door.

Tom grimaced at you to wordlessly send a message of ‘prepare yourself’ as he took a deep breath in and headed out of his bedroom. You silently followed into the living room and watched Tom open the door, where a well dressed man and woman pair stood talking.  

                            __________________________________

At first you and Tom together discussed the plan you had made at the beach with his manager and publicist, neither of whom seemed to like the idea very much.

They asked to speak with Tom privately, so you relocated back into the bedroom and sat on the side of his bed, reminiscing on how the roles were almost reversed compared to only two evenings prior. 

You were only in there for about ten minutes, but it seemed like hours. You were too anxious to mess with your phone and instead looked out his window.

There was a quiet knock on the door before Tom opened it. You recognized the steely look in his eyes and the way his jaw was clenched. 

He motioned for you to come out, and almost immediately after stepping into the living room his manager started talking to you.

“So, y/n, right? I’m gonna have to give this to you straight. You cannot be seen with my client ever again,” she stated bluntly, “it’s nothing against you, of course, but Tom here needs to maintain a ‘single’ rep until this movie is no longer in theatres and frankly you’re jeopardizing the whole thing.”

Your eyebrows shot up and you weren’t happy to hear this woman’s feigned criticisms.

“I’m sorry, but Tom is the one who sought me out. I never liked him, you could ask any person who knows me and they would tell you the same. I’m only here because Tom asked me to meet him about getting rid of this whole ‘scandal’ or whatever you want to call it. So if anyone is jeopardizing Tom, it’s himself.”

The publicist took a step forward.

“Look, miss y/n, it’s really nothing against you, we just want to maintain his image, and the best way to do so would be for us to go online and tell everyone he helped you get medical attention for an injury, which we all know is true, and end it at that. It makes Tom look like a hero, and you’ll be popular for weeks with your peers I’m sure,” he explained, angering you further. 

“I never asked for this. I don’t want attention. I don’t want the world, or more importantly my best friend, to find out I’ve been lying about the guy I used to hate. Do you realize how many rumors this will fuel? This is ridiculous and I can’t allow you to put out my information like this.”

“Oh, well. Too bad. I just sent the tip to TMZ and they’re posting the story tonight,” he replied, “and Tom is going live on Instagram at 4:00 to address it the way we told him to and you two can’t be seen together again. Text all you want like you have been, but no public contact. Unless of course we want to do a ‘girl saved by hero reunites with him’ thing. Oh man would that look so good-”

“I’m done. This is so sick. Tom,” you looked directly into his eyes, “never contact me again, you disgusting cheap sellout bastard,” you spat, a fire in your own eyes like nothing anyone had ever seen from you.

“Y/n I-“ he began, but you were already heading to the door. You could hear footsteps behind you and the door slam shut but you kept power walking towards the main elevators, hoping they were the opposite direction from which you and Tom initially came.

“Wait!” he cried out, finally catching up and grabbing your elbow.

You threw his hand off but stopped moving forward and instead spun around to face him. Tears had made their way down your cheeks by now and you weren’t any happier to be so vulnerable in front of Tom. 

Never in your life did or expect the next (or even last) guy you’d cry over would be Tom Holland.

“Y/n, please listen,” he pleaded, his face was also red, as if he were going to cry himself. You stood firm and gave him an expectant glare, so he continued.

“I don’t want to do this, I really don’t. Please understand that I have to, though, no matter how much this hurts. We can still talk. I was so drawn to you the second I saw you in that crowd just last week and I could’ve never imagined how close you could become in the short amount of time we’ve known each other. Please, babe, I don’t want to lose you.”

Anger flashed inside of you again and you felt your chest tighten at the bomb he’d just dropped..

“Do you really, Tom? Do you really care? Because to me it sounds like you actually have a choice here, but you’re too much of a pushover to do what’s right. If you really cared, you wouldn’t do this to me. I was serious back there. Don’t talk to me again, and definitely don’t call me babe if you do.” 

 “I’m so, so sorry, y/n,” Tom’s voice finally broke, and you could see the way his lip quivered as he continued, “I’m sorry I ever got you into this mess.”

“Me too,” you whispered. 

You wiped more stray tears and turned, looking back one last time into the face of the broken-hearted celebrity, hoping it was the last time you would ever see his face, but knowing it wouldn’t be the end of it.

                            __________________________________

You exited the elevator, which you were glad was empty. More tears had fallen on the journey down and you mustered up everything you could to stop them, at least until you were off the premises of the hotel. 

Though knowing you looked like a wreck, you walked through the hotel lobby with head held high, looking straight forward at the large front doors. 

Your numbered ticket was in hand and you gladly gave it to the valet so he could pull up your car.

It was getting harder to hold it together as you waited. Finally, he appeared and parked the car in front of you.

He held out the keys and then stood directly in front of you, silently pleading for a tip, even though he could probably see the obvious anguish on your face. 

Finally, you gave in, rolling your eyes as you dug through your bag for a spare $5 bill and slapped it into his hand with disdain.

“How kind. Have a nice day, ma’am!” he voiced cheerily.

You fought the urge to flip him off as you sat down in the driver’s seat and began the journey back home, dread filling your stomach the closer home became.

                           __________________________________

A/N: yeehaw that was a fun time. Next chapter is angsty too sorry I don’t make the rules... :)

Tag List: @marvel-lously, @jackiehollanderr, @one-big-fangirl

[humblynomadic]

Nomads Visit Corpus Christi - Selena | The USS Lexington | Breweries

Visiting Corpus Christi

We have always wanted to check out Corpus Christi based on feedback from others. While we only spent a couple days here,  it was well worth it. We went to multiple brewpubs in town, met up with fellow world travelers Uncle Bob & Aunt Jane, paid tribute to Selena's grave, did some metal detecting on the beaches, and explored the USS Lexington.

Wingate by Wyndham & The Tavern Bar - Corpus Christi We stayed at Wingate by Wyndham which is dog friendly, includes a decent breakfast, and was quite nice for the price. The Tavern bar right across the street from the Wingate was a decent bar. The place was packed but had good service and selection.

McGee Beach - Corpus Christi McGee Beach was OK. We did some metal detecting, but only found a bunch of junk. The amount of plastic we picked up was just plain sad. As avid scuba divers, we are always trying to keep the ocean clean. Too bad we were only here a few days, as I imagine Corpus Christi has better beaches to offer than this.

USS Lexington (CV-16) The USS Lexington is an affordable and fun self guided tour. The aircraft carrier has been docked in Corpus Christi, Texas since 1992, and now operates as a museum. We had a great time viewing all the warplanes, and exploring the different levels of this massive ship.

The USS Lexington (CV-16), also called "The Blue Ghost", is an Essex-class aircraft carrier built for the United States Navy. The ship was commissioned in 1943 during World War II. At first, she was going to be named Cabot, however, the USS Lexington (CV-2) was lost in the Battle of the Coral Sea. To commemorate the earlier ship, this new aircraft carrier was renamed during manufacture. In honor of the Revolutionary War Battle of Lexington, the USS Lexington (CV-16) was the fifth U.S. Navy ship to bear that name.

Selena I have to admit that I had no idea who Selena was. Shawna had to school me a bit on her music and tragic story.

Selena Quintanilla-Pérez was very successful mostly as a singer/songwriter, but also was a popular model, spokesperson, actress, and fashion designer. Nicknamed the Queen of Tejano music, she was one of the most famous Mexican-American entertainers.

Billboard magazine once named her the top-selling Latin artist of 90s decade. Media outlets often referred to her as the "Tejano Madonna" because of her clothing choices, and her posthumous collaboration with MAC cosmetics became the best-selling celebrity collection in history. To this day, she is considered one of the most popular Latin artists of all time, and was influential in bringing a music genre into the mainstream market.

Sadly, Selena was shot and killed by Yolanda Saldívar, at a hotel room on March 31, 1995. Yolanda Saldívar was the founder of Selena's fan club, her friend and former manager of her Selena Etc. boutiques.

Corpus Christi Brewpubs & Restaurants Our favorite breweries in Corpus Christi were Lorelei Brewing, Rebel Toad Brewing & Railroad Brewing. We tried to go to Lazy Beach Brewing, however, we had Ramsey with, and they are not dog friendly despite having an outside area with picnic tables. Lorelei Brewing We both really liked this little brewery. This was probably our favorite brewery in Corpus Christi. Both the staff and the patrons were super fun and friendly at Lorelei Brewing. They were heavy in IPA selections which I always like, and Shawna enjoyed their blonde. The double IPA was excellent. I also liked their red ale which is not my favorite style, but it was well balanced. The beer was true to style overall, delicious, and well received after spending so much time in Zapata where good beer is hard to find.

Rebel Toad Brewing Rebel Toad is a good brewery and had a decent selection of beers for a brewery of this size. They have a selection of games to choose from as well as a couple televisions. Shawna beat me in several games of Connect 4 which I blame on beer.

Railroad Brewing Company & The Railroad Seafood Station Railroad Brewing not only has a selection of great beers, but they also have a thriving restaurant called The Railroad Seafood Station. They feature a diverse menu including seafood, Cajun, burgers and more. The best part was getting to hang out with Uncle Bob & Aunt Jane who are also avid world travelers.

Railroad Brewing & The Railroad Seafood Station is located in the S.E.A. (Sports, Entertainment, Arts) District of downtown Corpus Christi. It is within walking distance of Corpus Christi Bay and other local venues such as The American Bank Center Arena and Concrete Street Amphitheater. Their brewery is the first 5 barrel system in Corpus Christi providing a variety of delicious craft beers. Be sure and check their beer page here to see the current tap selection.

Cassidy's Irish Pub Uncle Bob loves an Irish pub more than a drunken Irishman if that's possible, so I found myself drinking stouts with Uncle Bob at Cassidy's Irish Pub. Big thanks to Uncle Bob & Aunt Jane for treating us to a few rounds after we left the USS Lexington. I usually drink Guinness at an Irish pub because I generally have a "when in Rome" mindset, but Shawna found a dill pickle beer she liked. Sour beer is good here and there, but I could not do this one.

Garrett's BBQ & PSI Brewing On our way out of town we decided to stop at PSI Brewing. We could not find it at first and then realized it was inside Garrett's BBQ.  So we decided to also have lunch, and I am glad we did. They only had two beers on tap, but the BBQ was an excellent portion and pretty good flavor as well. Unfortunately, both have since closed, and they are looking for a new location.

Associated YouTube Video

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[usm-analysis-headcannons]

Threading the web #7: Character Analysis: Amadeus Cho (part one)

Ah, it’s finally finished!

After countless months of staying in my computer, the first part of the long awaited Amadeus Cho analysis has finally  been finished! Sorry for the breif wait, I had to get to some college related things before I could upload it. -_-

*Wipes sweat away from forehead*

So let’s jump right into it, shall we?

Amadeus Cho first appeared in “Ultimate Spider-Man” in Season 3, episode 14 “The Next Iron Spider”. In the series, as well as the comics, he’s known as the seventh smartest student in the world, despite being only 13 years old at the series’ start. Also, according to Peter, he has “an uncharted IQ, has skipped a few grades, holds several patents, and is banned from all game shows.”

He was recently transferred to, and attends, Midtown High along with Peter. However, his presence is an issue in itself because, before Cho came along to Midtown, Peter was the head honcho of the school in terms of grades, and was number one in every one of his classes. Now, with Cho attending, Peter had to renounce his title as being the smartest person (or #1) and was moved down to #2, much to his dismay and disapproval. Because of this, there had been a sense of rivalry between the two.

When we first meet Cho at Midtown High School’s science fair, Peter shows off Tony Stark’s Iron Spider model and it undoubtedly amazes Cho. However, when both boys spot each other, their reaction to one another is… not the best. They both look at each other in disgust and address the other person’s name while having an epic stare off, proving their sense of rivalry.

But aside from his brilliance, what else do we know about Amadeus Cho? I mean aside from the fact that he was named after one of the most famous composers known to man?

Well we do know that he’s a follower of Tony Stark because, while continuing to ogle the new armor, he proclaims himself to be “Tony Stark’s biggest fan”:

Cho: You know I’m Tony Stark’s biggest fan, right? I even created an arc reactor similar to his. Next gen theoretical stuff.

But we also know that like J. Jonah Jameson, Cho isn’t exactly the biggest fan of Spider-Man. His views on the character have undoubtedly become influenced by the newscaster considering the fact that, after Peter tells Cho that he’s friends with Spider-Man (while showing off), he responds by saying:

“Don’t you keep up with the news? Spider-Man is a menace!”

-Amadeus Cho (Season 3, episode 14)

While this conversation is brief and short, at this point, it’s fairly obvious that Cho’s view on certain aspects, particularly heroes and villains, are very black and white. You’re either with him or against him, and there’s no in-between. How do I know this? Well, two reasons:

First, there’s his backstory:

Amadeus Cho was born the son of Helen and Phil Cho and was raised in Tucson, Arizona. I should also note that due to his parents love for classical music and Methodist beliefs they gave Cho the name Amadeus after the great composer, Amadeus Mozart. Sometime later, Cho appeared on a game show called the “Excello soap company's "young genius" contest” which he won both first place and $5000 easily. It was also where he was discovered by the show’s host, Pythagoras Dupree, to have powers.

Yeah, Cho “technically” has powers in this version. However, they’re more or less based on intellect rather than strength or forc, eand I’ll get to that in a moment.forc, eand I’ll get to that in a moment.

In the comics, his abilities and/or “powers” (call them what you want) include, and I quote from the wiki, "the natural ability to identify the variables and quantum possibilities in any situation". This means that given in any circumstance, Cho has the ability to rapidly create mental calculations and set multiple physical reactions in action within his reach.

Now, I’m no scientist in the terms of physics nor calculations, but I’ll sum it up in the best way I can.

Basically, Cho can use his mind to create variables and predict probable outcomes of a situation within a matter of seconds, sort of like someone who can see into the future. In fact, Athena, one of Cho’s allies, claims intelligence is based on what’s known as “pattern recognition”, and that he can see 99.999999993% of patterns better than the average human on Earth can.

I gotta say, if the goddess of wisdom herself says that, then you KNOW you’re smart. 0_0

Sadly, after Dupree realized the boy’s powers, he had Cho’s house blown up, which killed both his parents in the process. As a result, Cho, along with a small little coyote pup named Kirby, leaves on his Vespa scooter on the run for his life. The death of his parents, as well as the need to constantly evade killers, leads him unable to trust anyone he comes across in fear that they would either betray him or get killed in the process (save for the Hulk who Cho strictly sees as a hero). Speaking of Bruce Banner, I should also mention that in the comics, Amadeus Cho is, in fact, not the Iron Spider, but another version of the Hulk. Cho doesn’t even touch the Iron Spider suit or, more or less, even think about it in the comics, so it’s quite a different spin on Amadeus’s character that’s actually fitting considering his brilliance in technology and since he’s a fan of Tony Stark’s inventions.

Now how he became the Hulk is actually a quite interesting story. Due to an incident where the original Hulk (that being Bruce Banner of course) absorbed a dangerous amount of radiation that could’ve possibly killed him and a lot of people, Cho injected special nanites into his body which allowed him to turn into his version of the Hulk and remove the ability to change from Banner’s body.

Now it’s unknown exactly how much of his backstory they’ve managed to convey in the series considering that it’s a show for kids (plus it’s Disney), but even though the show doesn’t outright talk about Cho’s past the hints and clues are still there.

Luckily this leads us to our second reason:

He’s still just a kid.

When you really think about it, for a thirteen-year-old kid, Cho’s been through a lot. When you’re constantly on the run for your life from people who are trying to kill you, it makes sense why trusting others and having an open mind about people is a hard thing to do.

In fact, this brings up a theory I have that involves Midtown High and Nick Fury, believe it or not:

Remember how in the beginning of the “New Iron Spider” episode when Nick was talking to Spider-Man about recruiting Cho? Did you ever notice that they only mentioned that Cho had been transferred and not WHY he was placed there?

My theory is that the main reason Cho is even attending Midtown High is so Fury can keep him safe from anyone who might want to kill him. I mean, think about it, Cho has been on the run from people who want to kill him for a good portion of his life, so it makes sense why Fury would want him to attend Midtown in case one of those people appeared and tried to hurt him. With the school holding some of S.H.E.I.L.D’s best heroes, (particularly Spider-MAn, White Tiger, Power Man, Iron Fist, and Nova) Fury knows that if trouble does manage to show up Cho, at the very least will be protected.  

But getting back to his personality, let’s take a look at some of his interests in the show.

Besides being a fan of Stark, we also can tell that he’s a follower of JJJ and the “Daily Bugle” reports. Due to his “past” most likely J. Jonah Jameson has influenced him into thinking, and believing, that those who can easily be ousted as a menace must be hated. While he might be intelligent, it’s impossible not to understand that he’s easily influenced by JJJ’s words.

How do I know this? Observe:

After he states, albeit in a blunt manner must I also add, his thoughts on Spider-Man, notice how he walks away and doesn’t give Peter a chance to respond. Cho’s a very straightforward person and does not change his mind easily. His black and white perspective is something that plays an important role in his character and, while it was touched upon in this episode, it will resurface at a more frequent rate in the future (because it’s a problem that continuously bites him in the ass repeatedly).

Sorry for the language.

But getting back to the episode, later, Taskmaster disguises himself as Stan and tries to steal the Iron Spider suit before Peter (or in this case Spider-Man) calls him out on it. While Spider-Man, with the help of Nova and Power Man, are keeping Taskmaster busy, this gives Cho plenty of time to sneak back and take matters into his own hands by wearing the suit himself. Not surprisingly, with the Iron Spider in Cho’s hands, the kid proves to be a natural at the mechanics and technology that’s used to control it.

(Which, by the way, I have to bring this up but, Sam’s line about the booster seat thing has gotta be one of my favorite lines from this show).

Now fast forward to when Spidey and Cho are on the rooftop and the two boys are fighting, and this is the first step to Cho’s development as a character which corresponds to his feelings for Spider-Man.

Taskmaster breaks the hinges off of a billboard that threatens to fall and hurts innocent civilians. Cho notices that Spider-Man is keeping the civilians safe from harm and, thankfully, turns on Taskmaster.

After the Iron-Spider suit gets hacked, Cho begins fighting against Spider-Man against his will while he’s knocked out inside of the suit.

With the addition of saving the people from the falling billboard, it’s at this point that Cho’s now starting to see what kind of a person that Spider-Man really is. Also, when he wakes up, notice that instead of letting the suit do what he wants, instead, he’s starting to get frightened and repeatedly apologizes to Spider-Man while attacking him. This shows that, while he dislikes Spider-Man, he doesn’t detest him to a point that he’d want to hurt him. In fact, due to what’s currently happening, it wouldn’t be an understatement to call him scared at this point.

Why?

Because in this scenario, Cho’s technically the “bad guy” and that’s something that he never wanted to be. If you remember in the beginning of the episode, after he stole the Iron Spider armor, Cho constantly bragged to Spider-Man how he could be a better hero than Peter could and, as I mentioned before, shows off his black and white outlook on things.

And not to mention that karma kinda bit him in the ass.

You know what, Rogers?

But getting back to Cho, this is also the first time that he understands how smart Spider-Man really is, and how well they’re both able to come up with a solution to a problem. Observe:

Peter: Calm down. We need a core interrupt. But you’d have to be able to write a multi-function--.

Cho: Hibernate-suspend program call.

Peter: That’s...exactly it. Get on it!

When they finally manage to get the suit working, Taskmaster activates Iron Spider’s self-destruct motion and sends it into overload thanks to the Bug still hiding in Cho’s armor.

And you all know the drill from there, they stop the clock all’s right with the world.

But let’s take a look at the final conversation that Spider-Man has with Cho before the episode ends.

Cho, realizing that what he did was wrong, tries to give back the Iron Spider uniform claiming, “You’re right, this isn’t finders keepers. You can take it back, I wasn’t meant to wear it.”

But Spider-Man, or Peter, on the other hand, tells him to keep the uniform and states, “I admit, I couldn’t have done what you did.” much to Cho’s surprise. Peter then tells Cho this:

“I’ve realized two things today. One, being smart is a superpower. And two, being a hero isn’t about power, it’s about good choices and heart. You’ve got the armor, and a solid head start on the other two. So… consider it on loan.”

-(Peter Parker)

From here we can see that Spider-Man has fully gained Cho’s respect and is no longer considered a menace in his book. Also, While Cho’s black and white outlook on him has changed, it still isn’t enough to turn it around in general. How do I know? We’ll get to that in a future episode.

The next time we see Cho is in Season 3 episode 8 entitled, “New Warriors” where Cho, along with Agent Venom, Kazaar and Zabu, are introduced to Spider-Man’s old S.H.E.I.L.D team (which, if you’ve forgotten, consisted of: Iron Fist, White Tiger, Power Man, and Nova) and they begin training. On the field, Cho is paired with Power Man for practice, and the two prove to be a pretty good team together. He even is shown to get along quite well with Flash which, if you compare his attitude now to how Cho behaved from the episode when he was first introduced, you’ll notice how willing he is to actually work with others.

In my opinion, this is a major step forward in terms of development for Cho because, considering how he used to live his life on the run, he’s starting to learn to place his trust in others, or in this case, his comrades.

But, there is a sense that he places a little too much on trust on them, to the point that it might make him a bit reckless. Case in point, this scene from Cloak, Dagger, Vulture, and Taskmaster’s invasion on the Triskelion.

If you recall, after Flash and Cho commenced this attack, they managed to release Scorpion, Beetle, Doc Ock, and the Green Goblin on accident.

So...in the words of Tony Stark:

Sadly, this leads to Cho’s armor being destroyed by the Goblin and the rest of the Web Warriors to retreat in order to create a new plan. As a result, Cho begins to believe that, due to his armor getting torn that now he now has no way to fight back.

“We didn’t just get beat. I lost my armor. I’m a liability.”

Now while this is not entirely true, I think we should take a look at his face when he says this. Notice how upset Cho’s face turns while calling himself a liabilty:

I mean, I would be feeling pretty upset if MY armor got destroyed as well, but really think about it. For a good portion of Cho’s life, he’s been pretty used to being a liability to someone due to his constant need to be on the run. If you really think about it, being a part of SHEILD might’ve been his one chance, or so he believes it to be, at becoming the hero instead of the victim. While the scene doesn’t last long, it is a moment that pokes a bit at Cho’s self-confidence without the armor to help him out.

Another thing scene that I feel we should talk about is when Spider-MAn is about to leave his teammates to go after the Goblin. Notice how while he’s talking and giving orders, Cho looks and sounds unbearably worried. He even blurts this out:

Cho: What do you expect  me to do? I don’t even have armor!”

Peter: It doesn’t matter that you don’t have any armor. You’re the smartest one here!

(He tosses a USB to Cho)

Peter: Get that to a computer, you’ll know what to do.

Once again, another scene that focuses on Cho’s self-confidence in himself. But what really makes this scene notable is the fact that, like the previous scene, he feels little to no self-confidence in his actions. The kid is starting to realize that this isn’t like a classroom where he can figure things out with little to no pressure on him and in the snap of a finger, no, this is a battlefield. And in battle, you have to make split decisions on the turn of a dime. The pressure is on and it’s on high. You’re either fit for this lifestyle or you’re not, and we all know that Cho DEFINITELY is because later, after Spider-Man leaves, he begins taking the reigns as leader.

Heck, He even gets to give Ock the final punch after declaring his team’s name WITH CONFIDENCE (must I also add):

Ock: You’re Children.. You’re nothing. Just more of Sheild’s run-of-the-mill old lackeys!

Cho: We’re not old lackeys. We’re New Warriors!

You tell ‘em, Cho! :D

Now the next time we see the character is in season 3 episode 16 entitled “S.H.I.E.L.D Academy” cheering on Spider-Man’s arrival to their new school.

Much like a lot of intelligent kids his age, we quickly find out that Cho has a bit of a competitive side to him (see the whole top bunk deal).

However, I do feel that it’s necessary to point out that Cho, being the most academically inclined to everyone, is the first to notice that the “school” does not have any books or desks. Of course, Fury explains that “S.H.I.E.L.D Academy” is not like your typical, average high school nor is it a typical classroom.

Now, why would I point this out? Because it shows that Cho is very attentive and observant which makes sense considering his backstory in the comics.

Now, how else do I know that?

Well, aside from asking Fury about the classroom, when they’re actually in the middle of a lesson, notice that he’s the first person to figure out something’s wrong:

Cho: Quit trying to hack my system, Spider-dweeb.

Peter: Hey! I’m not hacking you.

And, because he noticed that an odd transmission has been “pinging his tech”, Cho begins taking matters into his own hands by going through the archive files without permission in order to find out what it is (while, of course, being followed by Spider-Man). On their way, the two find the remains of Arnim Zola and, before they head back to class, Cho might have accidentally caused him to switch on. Things are only made worse when he returns to the archives and the suit turns on, giving away the secret of how he and Peter are in the SHIELD archives, as well as activating Zola full-front.

Y’know, I’d hate to be a hater but, for a super genius, you seem to be lacking a bit in the common sense department, Cho. I’d TOTALLY trust a head in a tv that was kept LOCKED AWAY in a forbidden archive center.

Anyhooo…

So, Zola gets away which causes Cho to become worried that, if Spider-Man snitches on him to Fury, he’d get kicked out of the Academy. Spidey agrees to keep what happened on the down low until later on while doing some research on the villain and looking for him through the security cams. Cho, not surprisingly, had been tracking down Zola as well and even upgraded his uniform with an interference signal that would override Arnim.

You smart child you!

Now, joined by Power Man, Agent Venom, the team goes through a secluded part of the Academy and find Zola.

And you know the drill from here they fight TV Zola, win, and surprisingly Spider-Man gets in trouble by taking the blame for Cho’s folly (without his knowing). Now what’s funny about this ending is that Cho didn’t even know about how Peter took the fall for him. I mention the episode’s conclusion because, this scene is later brought up and referred to in Season 3 episode 21 entitled, “Attack of the Synthenoids”. Now, in my opinion, this is where Cho really sees just how far Spider-Man will go to keep his friends out of trouble. For example, after being suspected of being another one of Zola’s synthezoids, Spider-Man asks Cho to tell him about Tony Stark’s latest invention, which he replies a typical science filled answer.

However, after Spider-Man believes him then we get this line:

Cho: So Zola’s back huh? Can’t belive Fury found out about it and pardoned that. Must be because he was too busy yelling at you, right?

Peter: I was covering for you! I told Fury I activated Zola  so you wouldn’t get kicked out of school

Cho: What? No way!

Danny: It’s truth. Your actions caused the spider to be punished.

Cho: I...I didn’t know, I’m sorry. Thanks Spidey.

Now, this moment really speaks out to me because I think it might be the first time that someone’s ever taken up for Cho in this manner. (I, of course, could be wrong as I haven’t read any of the comics) But if you remember when the incident first happened, Cho was nervous that he’d be kicked out of the academy. So the fact that someone like Spider-Man, a person who Cho originally thought to be a menace, would take the fall for him instead really speaks out to him and allows Cho to know that Spider-Man is a true ally.

Fastward to the three (that being Danny, Peter, and Cho) all search for Zola, Cho gets caught by a group of synthezoids. But what I find particularly noteworthy about this moment are two things:

First, notice how similar that Cho behaves like a coyote in this situation (which makes sense considering Kirby in the comics). For those of you who don’t understand what I’m saying let me explain:

When coyote’s (or any wild animal for the fact) get caught in traps, it’s common for them to chew their legs off in order to escape and do whatever they can to survive.

In this particular incident, Cho’s instincts are kicking in full-fledged. Similar to Taskmaster’s invasion, he understands that he has, once again, become a liability and is stuck in a situation, or trap, that would slow him and his comrades down. His friends are the rest of the coyote’s body, and he’s the trapped leg. And what does he do? He chops it off.

Well, not literally, but you get my point.

Coincidently this also leads to my second point, Cho’s sense of honor.

Before separating himself from his peers he mumbles this to himself:

“I owe you one Spidey.”

Because of Spider-Man taking the hit for him earlier, obviously, Cho feels a need to pay him back and sacrifices himself in order for the others to get away. He’d rather avoid putting others in danger and would rather put himself at risk the then lives of others.

The last time we see Cho (at least in Season 3) is in part three of Contest of Champions arc where he, Agent Venom, and Spider-Man must battle against the Grandmaster’s league of villains.

Now there’s nothing completely noteworthy about this episode except for one thing… Spider-Man actually reveals his identity to his friends.

Unlike Flash,, who was probably the most flabbergasted at Peter’s revelation, Cho, while undoubtedly surprised about it, actually handles the situation a lot better than his more dumbfounded partner. In fact, if I’m going a bit farther, I think he might’ve had some level of knowledge regarding the fact. He states that he had no idea that Peter was Spider-Man, but listen to the way he says that line. While he is surprised, he’s not downright shocked about the fact, unlike Flash. In fact, if I’m being honest, I think he kind of knew because:

He’s a smart kid. You really think the 7th smartest kid in the world wouldn’t have been able to figure that out or even have the slightest clue about Spider-MAn and PEter Parker being the same person? (though really to be fair, the guy’s voice is kind of a dead giveaway) &

It’s pretty hard to surprise Cho at this point. Seriously, Flash actually had a reason considering how he used to bully Peter but Cho? He doesn’t really have any leverage against the character except for the fact that they have a friendly rivalry going on.

And then we get to season 4… in the next part.

I know! I know! More waiting, but this thing was already long enough and I didn’t want the article to be too long! I’m sorry!

I know I’ve said this a million and three times alright, but thank you guys so much for your patience. I realize that it took me forever just to finish this but I’m happy that I finally managed to at least give you guys something before I go back to college in a couple of weeks. Until then, stay tuned for part 2 of this, which I will finish and upload ASAP! I hope you guys liked it as I’m trying to get back into the groove of writing again. It’s been a while.

Thanks and I’ll see you in the next article!

[biofunmy]

Old Friends and Family Recipes Fuel a Real Madrid Prodigy

MADRID — With two diamond studs sparkling in his ears, Vinícius José Paixão de Oliveira Júnior strolled through the front door of the gated villa he calls home after a day of training at Real Madrid.

Within minutes, he and his two closest friends from Brazil had fired up the FIFA video game in the living room to begin a daily ritual: the usual marathon session that seems to only pause for meal times.

“What a header,” one of the friends yelled as the digitized version of Vinícius leapt into the air and buried a shot past the goalkeeper. Vinícius, 19, raised his head from the massage table to see the action unfold on a 65-inch television, and then let his attention drift back to his phone as his personal physiotherapist continued to work on his legs.

Subscribe to Rory Smith’s weekly newsletter on world soccer, delivered every Friday.

This villa, in one of Madrid’s most exclusive neighborhoods, has the air of a teenage boy’s paradise. In addition to its enormous television, there are electric scooters, a driving seat for a motor racing game and table tennis and pool tables. The items are there to distract as much as entertain: Vinícius’s status as the next great star of Real Madrid means he rarely ventures out in public anymore. There are strict rules for his friends, too. No nights out when Vinícius is at home.

“It’s not fair if we go out and he has to stay in,” said one of them, Luiz Felipe Menegate. “We know we’re here for him to succeed.”

“Just like always,” Vinícius said with a grin.

In some ways, he is correct. Even if he were not one of the sport’s brightest young prospects, Vinícius probably would be spending his days talking soccer in the company of Menegate and another boyhood friend, Wesley Menezes, or digging into plates of black beans, rice and sirloin prepared by a favorite aunt. But in so many other ways — not just the toy-filled villa, but the multimillion-dollar salary and the attention and expectation that come with being one of the most valuable teenagers on earth — Vinícius Júnior now inhabits an entirely new world.

In April, he and his team invited The New York Times into that world, offering a rare glimpse into the care and the planning and, yes, the comforts that can help a talented young player navigate the warp-speed transformation from prospect to pro.

In Vinícius’s case, the change of venue alone has been remarkable.

Only a few years ago, Vinícius, a skillful and speedy wing, was living in a cramped room with more than a half-dozen family members in a Rio de Janeiro municipality notorious for violent crime and crippling poverty. Then, in May 2017, Real Madrid agreed to pay the Rio de Janeiro club Flamengo 45 million euros (just over $50 million) for the rights to the teenage forward. In an instant, before he had kicked a ball as a professional, Vinícius became the most expensive teenage export in Brazilian soccer history.

The record-breaking fee made Vinícius, then only 16, an instant millionaire. But it also kick-started the effort to make his journey from Rio to Europe as seamless as possible. That is why Menegate and Menezes are here, along with his aunt and nearly a dozen other family members, all of them living inside the two-story villa behind the tall gates, the ferns and the evergreens of La Moraleja, an enclave for Madrid’s rich and powerful.

It is the dream of every young Brazilian boy who plays soccer to land with a club like Real Madrid, a team of superstars that has won more international titles than any other club. Vinícius’s journey, though, represents something far different than the usual favela-to-riches story: It also captures the fevered, high-risk game Real Madrid plays to try to maintain its excellence, the ease with which top clubs can bid up the value (and the expectations) for an unproven player, and one family’s efforts to try to maintain just the slightest bit of normalcy amid that storm.

“I don’t really feel pressure,” Vinícius said in April. “I just focus on enjoying myself on the pitch.”

Much of that, he said, is because of what is in place inside the villa in La Moraleja, away from the prying eyes of fans and reporters, and a universe removed from his childhood.

Even by the standards of São Gonçalo, the bayside city of about 330,000 near Rio that is blighted by poverty and crime, the Paixão de Oliveira family had it hard. Vinícius’s father had to take work in a neighboring state to support his family, installing wiring for cable and internet firms. Often that was not enough.

When he was 6, Vinícius, who according to family members showed glimpses of talent soon after learning to walk, signed up for soccer training with a local school run by Carlos Eduardo Abrantes, known to everyone as Cacau. The school is one of scores affiliated with Flamengo, and that meant Cacau also shared in the riches of Vinícius’s transfer to Madrid. “It was a good amount,” he said, without revealing an exact figure.

Cacau said Vinícius’s family often could not afford to pay the monthly fees to keep him in training, and often did not have enough to eat. He said he and his wife, Valeria, would sometimes help by allowing him to skip a payment, or by giving Vinícius something to eat. “He was very needy,” Cacau recalled on a blisteringly hot February afternoon. Nearby, a group of boys trained on his facility’s single artificial turf field. Vinícius, in the form of two billboards, watched over them.

By the time Vinícius was 10, Flamengo had signed him to its school, located on the other side of the city. At 12, Vinícius moved in with his uncle Ulysses, whose home was closer to Flamengo’s training complex, avoiding a commute to training that sometimes stretched to three hours.

By the time he was 14, Vinícius’s rare talent was clear. He was one of the best players in Rio, and soon a star on national teams for his age group. It was then that TFM, one of Brazil’s soccer agencies, started to manage his career, taking the place of a previous agent and providing support that allowed his father to return home to his family and focus on Vinícius’ ascent.

TFM bet on his promise and started investing in Vinícius, persuading the family to let it represent the talented youngster. The informal arrangement carried risks for the firm because in Brazil players cannot sign with agents until they are 18.

“It is a gentleman’s agreement, and many times that agreement isn’t respected by the parents, and he’s free to change his mind,” said Frederico Pena, the agent who runs TFM.

TFM helped Vinícius’ family rent an apartment closer to Flamengo’s training center and paid for him to attend two high-performance facilities in the United States that are used by professional sports franchises. Such was the speed of Vinícius’ rise that a planned third visit had to be scrapped: He had been promoted to Flamengo’s first team.

When Vinícius was honored as the best player and top scorer for Brazil’s championship team at a South American under-17 championship in early 2017, the performance led to one of the most remarkable transfer battles in recent soccer history. Real Madrid and Barcelona, bitter rivals on and off the field in Spain, each decided it wanted Vinícius — a teenager who still had not made his professional debut for Flamengo — at almost any price.

Barcelona opened the bidding at 10 million euros and an option to match any offer from a rival club. Real Madrid topped the bid. Back and forth it went until the price hit 45 million euros.

At that point, Pena said, Real Madrid’s chief executive, José Ángel Sánchez, told Vinícius’ representatives that the club would pull out of the race to sign Kylian Mbappé, the French teenage sensation then starring for Monaco, if Vinícius would commit.

“We realized they really wanted him because they’re comparing him, without playing a professional game, with a player killing it at a top European level,” Pena said, remembering how he laughed at the time, unsure whether Sánchez meant what he was saying.

The deal was quietly completed in early 2017. Vinícius, still only 16, would be richer than he had ever dreamed. Months later, he would make his professional debut for Flamengo at Rio’s famed Maracanã stadium, and then announce his pending move to Spain. Just over a year later, in July 2018, the now-18-year-old Vinícius and his entourage landed in Madrid for the first time.

As they waited to enter the auditorium where the Spanish news media had gathered to get a first look at Real Madrid’s latest big-money signing, Menegate teased Vinícius about the formal clothes they had been ordered to wear. Vinícius, dressed in a dark tailored suit, laughed that his friend was only angry because he did not look as sharp. The jokes flowed until Menegate suddenly shot his buddy a look.

“Can you believe all this?” he asked.

“No,” Vinícius replied. “I’ll only believe it when I get on the field.”

Vinícius returned to Brazil to close out the season with Flamengo, and he and his family members, for whom the days of hardship were now over, tried to play down their new status. They moved into a better house and bought a new car — one Vinícius’ managers insisted had to be bulletproof — but otherwise kept a low profile.

“A lot of times they said, ‘Let’s pretend we don’t have this money so we don’t do something stupid,’” Pena said.

The transition to Europe has not always been easy. The battle for a regular place in the Real Madrid lineup is not for the meek, and even the biggest signings, and the brightest prospects, quickly fall out of favor with fans and the news media. But at least that quest, which continues Friday when Real Madrid plays Atlético Madrid at MetLife Stadium in New Jersey, is within Vinícius Júnior’s control; the friends and family members who have uprooted their lives to support him already have surrendered part of their own identities to help him flourish. Menegate acknowledged as much one afternoon as he waited for his friend to return from training.

“I know that we are not just Menegate and Wesley anymore because people now just see us as the two guys who live with Vinícius,” he said.

Still, the attempts at normalcy continue. His aunt Vanessa, who is part of the entourage, cooks every meal for the household, and the menu rarely changes: rice, beans and protein, staples of family meals throughout Brazil. Most days, the family gathers at the table a couple of hours before dinner; they wash down slices of a cornmeal cake, known as bolo de fubá, with sweet Brazilian coffee as pagode music blares from a living room speaker. Except for the fact the group is sitting in a home whose previous occupant was the chief executive of one of Spain’s largest retailers, the scene could be one set back in the cramped apartment in São Gonçalo, family and friends enjoying one another’s company, discussing soccer and the quality of aunt Vanessa’s cooking.

The next day, Vinícius will return to training. The club will focus on his development. The agents will focus on his millions. The family members and the old friends will offer their company. The auntie will prepare more beans and rice.

“My dad says, ‘Just focus on the pitch,’” Vinícius Júnior said. “‘You don’t have any problem off the pitch.’”

Sahred From Source link Sports

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[reneeacaseyfl]

Old Friends and Family Recipes Fuel a Real Madrid Prodigy

MADRID — With two diamond studs sparkling in his ears, Vinícius José Paixão de Oliveira Júnior strolled through the front door of the gated villa he calls home after a day of training at Real Madrid.

Within minutes, he and his two closest friends from Brazil had fired up the FIFA video game in the living room to begin a daily ritual: the usual marathon session that seems to only pause for meal times.

“What a header,” one of the friends yelled as the digitized version of Vinícius leapt into the air and buried a shot past the goalkeeper. Vinícius, 19, raised his head from the massage table to see the action unfold on a 65-inch television, and then let his attention drift back to his phone as his personal physiotherapist continued to work on his legs.

Subscribe to Rory Smith’s weekly newsletter on world soccer, delivered every Friday.

This villa, in one of Madrid’s most exclusive neighborhoods, has the air of a teenage boy’s paradise. In addition to its enormous television, there are electric scooters, a driving seat for a motor racing game and table tennis and pool tables. The items are there to distract as much as entertain: Vinícius’s status as the next great star of Real Madrid means he rarely ventures out in public anymore. There are strict rules for his friends, too. No nights out when Vinícius is at home.

“It’s not fair if we go out and he has to stay in,” said one of them, Luiz Felipe Menegate. “We know we’re here for him to succeed.”

“Just like always,” Vinícius said with a grin.

In some ways, he is correct. Even if he were not one of the sport’s brightest young prospects, Vinícius probably would be spending his days talking soccer in the company of Menegate and another boyhood friend, Wesley Menezes, or digging into plates of black beans, rice and sirloin prepared by a favorite aunt. But in so many other ways — not just the toy-filled villa, but the multimillion-dollar salary and the attention and expectation that come with being one of the most valuable teenagers on earth — Vinícius Júnior now inhabits an entirely new world.

In April, he and his team invited The New York Times into that world, offering a rare glimpse into the care and the planning and, yes, the comforts that can help a talented young player navigate the warp-speed transformation from prospect to pro.

In Vinícius’s case, the change of venue alone has been remarkable.

Only a few years ago, Vinícius, a skillful and speedy wing, was living in a cramped room with more than a half-dozen family members in a Rio de Janeiro municipality notorious for violent crime and crippling poverty. Then, in May 2017, Real Madrid agreed to pay the Rio de Janeiro club Flamengo 45 million euros (just over $50 million) for the rights to the teenage forward. In an instant, before he had kicked a ball as a professional, Vinícius became the most expensive teenage export in Brazilian soccer history.

The record-breaking fee made Vinícius, then only 16, an instant millionaire. But it also kick-started the effort to make his journey from Rio to Europe as seamless as possible. That is why Menegate and Menazes are here, along with his aunt and nearly a dozen other family members, all of them living inside the two-story villa behind the tall gates, the ferns and the evergreens of La Moraleja, an enclave for Madrid’s rich and powerful.

It is the dream of every young Brazilian boy who plays soccer to land with a club like Real Madrid, a team of superstars that has won more international titles than any other club. Vinícius’s journey, though, represents something far different than the usual favela-to-riches story: It also captures the fevered, high-risk game Real Madrid plays to try to maintain its excellence, the ease with which top clubs can bid up the value (and the expectations) for an unproven player, and one family’s efforts to try to maintain just the slightest bit of normalcy amid that storm.

“I don’t really feel pressure,” Vinícius said in April. “I just focus on enjoying myself on the pitch.”

Much of that, he said, is because of what is in place inside the villa in La Moraleja, away from the prying eyes of fans and reporters, and a universe removed from his childhood.

Even by the standards of São Gonçalo, the bayside city of about 330,000 near Rio that is blighted by poverty and crime, the Paixão de Oliveira family had it hard. Vinícius’s father had to take work in a neighboring state to support his family, installing wiring for cable and internet firms. Often that was not enough.

When he was 6, Vinícius, who according to family members showed glimpses of talent soon after learning to walk, signed up for soccer training with a local school run by Carlos Eduardo Abrantes, known to everyone as Cacau. The school is one of scores affiliated with Flamengo, and that meant Cacau also shared in the riches of Vinícius’s transfer to Madrid. “It was a good amount,” he said, without revealing an exact figure.

Cacau said Vinícius’s family often could not afford to pay the monthly fees to keep him in training, and often did not have enough to eat. He said he and his wife, Valeria, would sometimes help by allowing him to skip a payment, or by giving Vinícius something to eat. “He was very needy,” Cacau recalled on a blisteringly hot February afternoon. Nearby, a group of boys trained on his facility’s single artificial turf field. Vinícius, in the form of two billboards, watched over them.

By the time Vinícius was 10, Flamengo had signed him to its school, located on the other side of the city. At 12, Vinícius moved in with his uncle Ulysses, whose home was closer to Flamengo’s training complex, avoiding a commute to training that sometimes stretched to three hours.

By the time he was 14, Vinícius’s rare talent was clear. He was one of the best players in Rio, and soon a star on national teams for his age group. It was then that TFM, one of Brazil’s soccer agencies, started to manage his career, taking the place of a previous agent and providing support that allowed his father to return home to his family and focus on Vinícius’ ascent.

TFM bet on his promise and started investing in Vinícius, persuading the family to let it represent the talented youngster. The informal arrangement carried risks for the firm because in Brazil players cannot sign with agents until they are 18.

“It is a gentleman’s agreement, and many times that agreement isn’t respected by the parents, and he’s free to change his mind,” said Frederico Pena, the agent who runs TFM.

TFM helped Vinícius’ family rent an apartment closer to Flamengo’s training center and paid for him to attend two high-performance facilities in the United States that are used by professional sports franchises. Such was the speed of Vinícius’ rise that a planned third visit had to be scrapped: He had been promoted to Flamengo’s first team.

When Vinícius was honored as the best player and top scorer for Brazil’s championship team at a South American under-17 championship in early 2017, the performance led to one of the most remarkable transfer battles in recent soccer history. Real Madrid and Barcelona, bitter rivals on and off the field in Spain, each decided it wanted Vinícius — a teenager who still had not made his professional debut for Flamengo — at almost any price.

Barcelona opened the bidding at 10 million euros and an option to match any offer from a rival club. Real Madrid topped the bid. Back and forth it went until the price hit 45 million euros.

At that point, Pena said, Real Madrid’s chief executive, José Ángel Sánchez, told Vinícius’ representatives that the club would pull out of the race to sign Kylian Mbappé, the French teenage sensation then starring for Monaco, if Vinícius would commit.

“We realized they really wanted him because they’re comparing him, without playing a professional game, with a player killing it at a top European level,” Pena said, remembering how he laughed at the time, unsure whether Sánchez meant what he was saying.

The deal was quietly completed in early 2017. Vinícius, still only 16, would be richer than he had ever dreamed. Months later, he would make his professional debut for Flamengo at Rio’s famed Maracaã stadium, and then announce his pending move to Spain. Just over a year later, in July 2018, the now-18-year-old Vinícius and his entourage landed in Madrid for the first time.

As they waited to enter the auditorium where the Spanish news media had gathered to get a first look at Real Madrid’s latest big-money signing, Menegate teased Vinícius about the formal clothes they had been ordered to wear. Vinícius, dressed in a dark tailored suit, laughed that his friend was only angry because he did not look as sharp. The jokes flowed until Menegate suddenly shot his buddy a look.

“Can you believe all this?” he asked.

“No,” Vinícius replied. “I’ll only believe it when I get on the field.”

Vinícius returned to Brazil to close out the season with Flamengo, and he and his family members, for whom the days of hardship were now over, tried to play down their new status. They moved into a better house and bought a new car — one Vinícius’ managers insisted had to be bulletproof — but otherwise kept a low profile.

“A lot of times they said, ‘Let’s pretend we don’t have this money so we don’t do something stupid,’” Pena said.

The transition to Europe has not always been easy. The battle for a regular place in the Real Madrid lineup is not for the meek, and even the biggest signings, and the brightest prospects, quickly fall out of favor with fans and the news media. But at least that quest, which continues Friday when Real Madrid plays Atlético Madrid at MetLife Stadium in New Jersey, is within Vinícius Júnior’s control; the friends and family members who have uprooted their lives to support him already have surrendered part of their own identities to help him flourish. Menegate acknowledged as much one afternoon as he waited for his friend to return from training.

“I know that we are not just Menegate and Wesley anymore because people now just see us as the two guys who live with Vinícius,” he said.

Still, the attempts at normalcy continue. His aunt Vanessa, who is part of the entourage, cooks every meal for the household, and the menu rarely changes: rice, beans and protein, staples of family meals throughout Brazil. Most days, the family gathers at the table a couple of hours before dinner; they wash down slices of a cornmeal cake, known as bolo de fubá, with sweet Brazilian coffee as pagode music blares from a living room speaker. Except for the fact the group is sitting in a home whose previous occupant was the chief executive of one of Spain’s largest retailers, the scene could be one set back in the cramped apartment in São Gonçalo, family and friends enjoying one another’s company, discussing soccer and the quality of aunt Vanessa’s cooking.

The next day, Vinícius will return to training. The club will focus on his development. The agents will focus on his millions. The family members and the old friends will offer their company. The auntie will prepare more beans and rice.

“My dad says, ‘Just focus on the pitch,’” Vinícius Júnior said. “‘You don’t have any problem off the pitch.’”

Credit: Source link

The post Old Friends and Family Recipes Fuel a Real Madrid Prodigy appeared first on WeeklyReviewer.

from WeeklyReviewer https://weeklyreviewer.com/old-friends-and-family-recipes-fuel-a-real-madrid-prodigy/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=old-friends-and-family-recipes-fuel-a-real-madrid-prodigy from WeeklyReviewer https://weeklyreviewer.tumblr.com/post/186556074042

[velmaemyers88]

Old Friends and Family Recipes Fuel a Real Madrid Prodigy

MADRID — With two diamond studs sparkling in his ears, Vinícius José Paixão de Oliveira Júnior strolled through the front door of the gated villa he calls home after a day of training at Real Madrid.

Within minutes, he and his two closest friends from Brazil had fired up the FIFA video game in the living room to begin a daily ritual: the usual marathon session that seems to only pause for meal times.

“What a header,” one of the friends yelled as the digitized version of Vinícius leapt into the air and buried a shot past the goalkeeper. Vinícius, 19, raised his head from the massage table to see the action unfold on a 65-inch television, and then let his attention drift back to his phone as his personal physiotherapist continued to work on his legs.

Subscribe to Rory Smith’s weekly newsletter on world soccer, delivered every Friday.

This villa, in one of Madrid’s most exclusive neighborhoods, has the air of a teenage boy’s paradise. In addition to its enormous television, there are electric scooters, a driving seat for a motor racing game and table tennis and pool tables. The items are there to distract as much as entertain: Vinícius’s status as the next great star of Real Madrid means he rarely ventures out in public anymore. There are strict rules for his friends, too. No nights out when Vinícius is at home.

“It’s not fair if we go out and he has to stay in,” said one of them, Luiz Felipe Menegate. “We know we’re here for him to succeed.”

“Just like always,” Vinícius said with a grin.

In some ways, he is correct. Even if he were not one of the sport’s brightest young prospects, Vinícius probably would be spending his days talking soccer in the company of Menegate and another boyhood friend, Wesley Menezes, or digging into plates of black beans, rice and sirloin prepared by a favorite aunt. But in so many other ways — not just the toy-filled villa, but the multimillion-dollar salary and the attention and expectation that come with being one of the most valuable teenagers on earth — Vinícius Júnior now inhabits an entirely new world.

In April, he and his team invited The New York Times into that world, offering a rare glimpse into the care and the planning and, yes, the comforts that can help a talented young player navigate the warp-speed transformation from prospect to pro.

In Vinícius’s case, the change of venue alone has been remarkable.

Only a few years ago, Vinícius, a skillful and speedy wing, was living in a cramped room with more than a half-dozen family members in a Rio de Janeiro municipality notorious for violent crime and crippling poverty. Then, in May 2017, Real Madrid agreed to pay the Rio de Janeiro club Flamengo 45 million euros (just over $50 million) for the rights to the teenage forward. In an instant, before he had kicked a ball as a professional, Vinícius became the most expensive teenage export in Brazilian soccer history.

The record-breaking fee made Vinícius, then only 16, an instant millionaire. But it also kick-started the effort to make his journey from Rio to Europe as seamless as possible. That is why Menegate and Menazes are here, along with his aunt and nearly a dozen other family members, all of them living inside the two-story villa behind the tall gates, the ferns and the evergreens of La Moraleja, an enclave for Madrid’s rich and powerful.

It is the dream of every young Brazilian boy who plays soccer to land with a club like Real Madrid, a team of superstars that has won more international titles than any other club. Vinícius’s journey, though, represents something far different than the usual favela-to-riches story: It also captures the fevered, high-risk game Real Madrid plays to try to maintain its excellence, the ease with which top clubs can bid up the value (and the expectations) for an unproven player, and one family’s efforts to try to maintain just the slightest bit of normalcy amid that storm.

“I don’t really feel pressure,” Vinícius said in April. “I just focus on enjoying myself on the pitch.”

Much of that, he said, is because of what is in place inside the villa in La Moraleja, away from the prying eyes of fans and reporters, and a universe removed from his childhood.

Even by the standards of São Gonçalo, the bayside city of about 330,000 near Rio that is blighted by poverty and crime, the Paixão de Oliveira family had it hard. Vinícius’s father had to take work in a neighboring state to support his family, installing wiring for cable and internet firms. Often that was not enough.

When he was 6, Vinícius, who according to family members showed glimpses of talent soon after learning to walk, signed up for soccer training with a local school run by Carlos Eduardo Abrantes, known to everyone as Cacau. The school is one of scores affiliated with Flamengo, and that meant Cacau also shared in the riches of Vinícius’s transfer to Madrid. “It was a good amount,” he said, without revealing an exact figure.

Cacau said Vinícius’s family often could not afford to pay the monthly fees to keep him in training, and often did not have enough to eat. He said he and his wife, Valeria, would sometimes help by allowing him to skip a payment, or by giving Vinícius something to eat. “He was very needy,” Cacau recalled on a blisteringly hot February afternoon. Nearby, a group of boys trained on his facility’s single artificial turf field. Vinícius, in the form of two billboards, watched over them.

By the time Vinícius was 10, Flamengo had signed him to its school, located on the other side of the city. At 12, Vinícius moved in with his uncle Ulysses, whose home was closer to Flamengo’s training complex, avoiding a commute to training that sometimes stretched to three hours.

By the time he was 14, Vinícius’s rare talent was clear. He was one of the best players in Rio, and soon a star on national teams for his age group. It was then that TFM, one of Brazil’s soccer agencies, started to manage his career, taking the place of a previous agent and providing support that allowed his father to return home to his family and focus on Vinícius’ ascent.

TFM bet on his promise and started investing in Vinícius, persuading the family to let it represent the talented youngster. The informal arrangement carried risks for the firm because in Brazil players cannot sign with agents until they are 18.

“It is a gentleman’s agreement, and many times that agreement isn’t respected by the parents, and he’s free to change his mind,” said Frederico Pena, the agent who runs TFM.

TFM helped Vinícius’ family rent an apartment closer to Flamengo’s training center and paid for him to attend two high-performance facilities in the United States that are used by professional sports franchises. Such was the speed of Vinícius’ rise that a planned third visit had to be scrapped: He had been promoted to Flamengo’s first team.

When Vinícius was honored as the best player and top scorer for Brazil’s championship team at a South American under-17 championship in early 2017, the performance led to one of the most remarkable transfer battles in recent soccer history. Real Madrid and Barcelona, bitter rivals on and off the field in Spain, each decided it wanted Vinícius — a teenager who still had not made his professional debut for Flamengo — at almost any price.

Barcelona opened the bidding at 10 million euros and an option to match any offer from a rival club. Real Madrid topped the bid. Back and forth it went until the price hit 45 million euros.

At that point, Pena said, Real Madrid’s chief executive, José Ángel Sánchez, told Vinícius’ representatives that the club would pull out of the race to sign Kylian Mbappé, the French teenage sensation then starring for Monaco, if Vinícius would commit.

“We realized they really wanted him because they’re comparing him, without playing a professional game, with a player killing it at a top European level,” Pena said, remembering how he laughed at the time, unsure whether Sánchez meant what he was saying.

The deal was quietly completed in early 2017. Vinícius, still only 16, would be richer than he had ever dreamed. Months later, he would make his professional debut for Flamengo at Rio’s famed Maracaã stadium, and then announce his pending move to Spain. Just over a year later, in July 2018, the now-18-year-old Vinícius and his entourage landed in Madrid for the first time.

As they waited to enter the auditorium where the Spanish news media had gathered to get a first look at Real Madrid’s latest big-money signing, Menegate teased Vinícius about the formal clothes they had been ordered to wear. Vinícius, dressed in a dark tailored suit, laughed that his friend was only angry because he did not look as sharp. The jokes flowed until Menegate suddenly shot his buddy a look.

“Can you believe all this?” he asked.

“No,” Vinícius replied. “I’ll only believe it when I get on the field.”

Vinícius returned to Brazil to close out the season with Flamengo, and he and his family members, for whom the days of hardship were now over, tried to play down their new status. They moved into a better house and bought a new car — one Vinícius’ managers insisted had to be bulletproof — but otherwise kept a low profile.

“A lot of times they said, ‘Let’s pretend we don’t have this money so we don’t do something stupid,’” Pena said.

The transition to Europe has not always been easy. The battle for a regular place in the Real Madrid lineup is not for the meek, and even the biggest signings, and the brightest prospects, quickly fall out of favor with fans and the news media. But at least that quest, which continues Friday when Real Madrid plays Atlético Madrid at MetLife Stadium in New Jersey, is within Vinícius Júnior’s control; the friends and family members who have uprooted their lives to support him already have surrendered part of their own identities to help him flourish. Menegate acknowledged as much one afternoon as he waited for his friend to return from training.

“I know that we are not just Menegate and Wesley anymore because people now just see us as the two guys who live with Vinícius,” he said.

Still, the attempts at normalcy continue. His aunt Vanessa, who is part of the entourage, cooks every meal for the household, and the menu rarely changes: rice, beans and protein, staples of family meals throughout Brazil. Most days, the family gathers at the table a couple of hours before dinner; they wash down slices of a cornmeal cake, known as bolo de fubá, with sweet Brazilian coffee as pagode music blares from a living room speaker. Except for the fact the group is sitting in a home whose previous occupant was the chief executive of one of Spain’s largest retailers, the scene could be one set back in the cramped apartment in São Gonçalo, family and friends enjoying one another’s company, discussing soccer and the quality of aunt Vanessa’s cooking.

The next day, Vinícius will return to training. The club will focus on his development. The agents will focus on his millions. The family members and the old friends will offer their company. The auntie will prepare more beans and rice.

“My dad says, ‘Just focus on the pitch,’” Vinícius Júnior said. “‘You don’t have any problem off the pitch.’”

Credit: Source link

The post Old Friends and Family Recipes Fuel a Real Madrid Prodigy appeared first on WeeklyReviewer.

from WeeklyReviewer https://weeklyreviewer.com/old-friends-and-family-recipes-fuel-a-real-madrid-prodigy/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=old-friends-and-family-recipes-fuel-a-real-madrid-prodigy from WeeklyReviewer https://weeklyreviewer.tumblr.com/post/186556074042

[weeklyreviewer]

Old Friends and Family Recipes Fuel a Real Madrid Prodigy

MADRID — With two diamond studs sparkling in his ears, Vinícius José Paixão de Oliveira Júnior strolled through the front door of the gated villa he calls home after a day of training at Real Madrid.

Within minutes, he and his two closest friends from Brazil had fired up the FIFA video game in the living room to begin a daily ritual: the usual marathon session that seems to only pause for meal times.

“What a header,” one of the friends yelled as the digitized version of Vinícius leapt into the air and buried a shot past the goalkeeper. Vinícius, 19, raised his head from the massage table to see the action unfold on a 65-inch television, and then let his attention drift back to his phone as his personal physiotherapist continued to work on his legs.

Subscribe to Rory Smith’s weekly newsletter on world soccer, delivered every Friday.

This villa, in one of Madrid’s most exclusive neighborhoods, has the air of a teenage boy’s paradise. In addition to its enormous television, there are electric scooters, a driving seat for a motor racing game and table tennis and pool tables. The items are there to distract as much as entertain: Vinícius’s status as the next great star of Real Madrid means he rarely ventures out in public anymore. There are strict rules for his friends, too. No nights out when Vinícius is at home.

“It’s not fair if we go out and he has to stay in,” said one of them, Luiz Felipe Menegate. “We know we’re here for him to succeed.”

“Just like always,” Vinícius said with a grin.

In some ways, he is correct. Even if he were not one of the sport’s brightest young prospects, Vinícius probably would be spending his days talking soccer in the company of Menegate and another boyhood friend, Wesley Menezes, or digging into plates of black beans, rice and sirloin prepared by a favorite aunt. But in so many other ways — not just the toy-filled villa, but the multimillion-dollar salary and the attention and expectation that come with being one of the most valuable teenagers on earth — Vinícius Júnior now inhabits an entirely new world.

In April, he and his team invited The New York Times into that world, offering a rare glimpse into the care and the planning and, yes, the comforts that can help a talented young player navigate the warp-speed transformation from prospect to pro.

In Vinícius’s case, the change of venue alone has been remarkable.

Only a few years ago, Vinícius, a skillful and speedy wing, was living in a cramped room with more than a half-dozen family members in a Rio de Janeiro municipality notorious for violent crime and crippling poverty. Then, in May 2017, Real Madrid agreed to pay the Rio de Janeiro club Flamengo 45 million euros (just over $50 million) for the rights to the teenage forward. In an instant, before he had kicked a ball as a professional, Vinícius became the most expensive teenage export in Brazilian soccer history.

The record-breaking fee made Vinícius, then only 16, an instant millionaire. But it also kick-started the effort to make his journey from Rio to Europe as seamless as possible. That is why Menegate and Menazes are here, along with his aunt and nearly a dozen other family members, all of them living inside the two-story villa behind the tall gates, the ferns and the evergreens of La Moraleja, an enclave for Madrid’s rich and powerful.

It is the dream of every young Brazilian boy who plays soccer to land with a club like Real Madrid, a team of superstars that has won more international titles than any other club. Vinícius’s journey, though, represents something far different than the usual favela-to-riches story: It also captures the fevered, high-risk game Real Madrid plays to try to maintain its excellence, the ease with which top clubs can bid up the value (and the expectations) for an unproven player, and one family’s efforts to try to maintain just the slightest bit of normalcy amid that storm.

“I don’t really feel pressure,” Vinícius said in April. “I just focus on enjoying myself on the pitch.”

Much of that, he said, is because of what is in place inside the villa in La Moraleja, away from the prying eyes of fans and reporters, and a universe removed from his childhood.

Even by the standards of São Gonçalo, the bayside city of about 330,000 near Rio that is blighted by poverty and crime, the Paixão de Oliveira family had it hard. Vinícius’s father had to take work in a neighboring state to support his family, installing wiring for cable and internet firms. Often that was not enough.

When he was 6, Vinícius, who according to family members showed glimpses of talent soon after learning to walk, signed up for soccer training with a local school run by Carlos Eduardo Abrantes, known to everyone as Cacau. The school is one of scores affiliated with Flamengo, and that meant Cacau also shared in the riches of Vinícius’s transfer to Madrid. “It was a good amount,” he said, without revealing an exact figure.

Cacau said Vinícius’s family often could not afford to pay the monthly fees to keep him in training, and often did not have enough to eat. He said he and his wife, Valeria, would sometimes help by allowing him to skip a payment, or by giving Vinícius something to eat. “He was very needy,” Cacau recalled on a blisteringly hot February afternoon. Nearby, a group of boys trained on his facility’s single artificial turf field. Vinícius, in the form of two billboards, watched over them.

By the time Vinícius was 10, Flamengo had signed him to its school, located on the other side of the city. At 12, Vinícius moved in with his uncle Ulysses, whose home was closer to Flamengo’s training complex, avoiding a commute to training that sometimes stretched to three hours.

By the time he was 14, Vinícius’s rare talent was clear. He was one of the best players in Rio, and soon a star on national teams for his age group. It was then that TFM, one of Brazil’s soccer agencies, started to manage his career, taking the place of a previous agent and providing support that allowed his father to return home to his family and focus on Vinícius’ ascent.

TFM bet on his promise and started investing in Vinícius, persuading the family to let it represent the talented youngster. The informal arrangement carried risks for the firm because in Brazil players cannot sign with agents until they are 18.

“It is a gentleman’s agreement, and many times that agreement isn’t respected by the parents, and he’s free to change his mind,” said Frederico Pena, the agent who runs TFM.

TFM helped Vinícius’ family rent an apartment closer to Flamengo’s training center and paid for him to attend two high-performance facilities in the United States that are used by professional sports franchises. Such was the speed of Vinícius’ rise that a planned third visit had to be scrapped: He had been promoted to Flamengo’s first team.

When Vinícius was honored as the best player and top scorer for Brazil’s championship team at a South American under-17 championship in early 2017, the performance led to one of the most remarkable transfer battles in recent soccer history. Real Madrid and Barcelona, bitter rivals on and off the field in Spain, each decided it wanted Vinícius — a teenager who still had not made his professional debut for Flamengo — at almost any price.

Barcelona opened the bidding at 10 million euros and an option to match any offer from a rival club. Real Madrid topped the bid. Back and forth it went until the price hit 45 million euros.

At that point, Pena said, Real Madrid’s chief executive, José Ángel Sánchez, told Vinícius’ representatives that the club would pull out of the race to sign Kylian Mbappé, the French teenage sensation then starring for Monaco, if Vinícius would commit.

“We realized they really wanted him because they’re comparing him, without playing a professional game, with a player killing it at a top European level,” Pena said, remembering how he laughed at the time, unsure whether Sánchez meant what he was saying.

The deal was quietly completed in early 2017. Vinícius, still only 16, would be richer than he had ever dreamed. Months later, he would make his professional debut for Flamengo at Rio’s famed Maracaã stadium, and then announce his pending move to Spain. Just over a year later, in July 2018, the now-18-year-old Vinícius and his entourage landed in Madrid for the first time.

As they waited to enter the auditorium where the Spanish news media had gathered to get a first look at Real Madrid’s latest big-money signing, Menegate teased Vinícius about the formal clothes they had been ordered to wear. Vinícius, dressed in a dark tailored suit, laughed that his friend was only angry because he did not look as sharp. The jokes flowed until Menegate suddenly shot his buddy a look.

“Can you believe all this?” he asked.

“No,” Vinícius replied. “I’ll only believe it when I get on the field.”

Vinícius returned to Brazil to close out the season with Flamengo, and he and his family members, for whom the days of hardship were now over, tried to play down their new status. They moved into a better house and bought a new car — one Vinícius’ managers insisted had to be bulletproof — but otherwise kept a low profile.

“A lot of times they said, ‘Let’s pretend we don’t have this money so we don’t do something stupid,’” Pena said.

The transition to Europe has not always been easy. The battle for a regular place in the Real Madrid lineup is not for the meek, and even the biggest signings, and the brightest prospects, quickly fall out of favor with fans and the news media. But at least that quest, which continues Friday when Real Madrid plays Atlético Madrid at MetLife Stadium in New Jersey, is within Vinícius Júnior’s control; the friends and family members who have uprooted their lives to support him already have surrendered part of their own identities to help him flourish. Menegate acknowledged as much one afternoon as he waited for his friend to return from training.

“I know that we are not just Menegate and Wesley anymore because people now just see us as the two guys who live with Vinícius,” he said.

Still, the attempts at normalcy continue. His aunt Vanessa, who is part of the entourage, cooks every meal for the household, and the menu rarely changes: rice, beans and protein, staples of family meals throughout Brazil. Most days, the family gathers at the table a couple of hours before dinner; they wash down slices of a cornmeal cake, known as bolo de fubá, with sweet Brazilian coffee as pagode music blares from a living room speaker. Except for the fact the group is sitting in a home whose previous occupant was the chief executive of one of Spain’s largest retailers, the scene could be one set back in the cramped apartment in São Gonçalo, family and friends enjoying one another’s company, discussing soccer and the quality of aunt Vanessa’s cooking.

The next day, Vinícius will return to training. The club will focus on his development. The agents will focus on his millions. The family members and the old friends will offer their company. The auntie will prepare more beans and rice.

“My dad says, ‘Just focus on the pitch,’” Vinícius Júnior said. “‘You don’t have any problem off the pitch.’”

Credit: Source link

The post Old Friends and Family Recipes Fuel a Real Madrid Prodigy appeared first on WeeklyReviewer.

from WeeklyReviewer https://weeklyreviewer.com/old-friends-and-family-recipes-fuel-a-real-madrid-prodigy/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=old-friends-and-family-recipes-fuel-a-real-madrid-prodigy

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