#how much can a viewer understand from eyes nose mouth and eyebrows alone

[alltheangstmygifttoyou]

Some traditional art I've done, its just pen and ink sketches of cartoon/anime faces

If I'm ever just wanting to doodle random faces are my go to. This is especially true if I have color available :P

[artist-tae]

fate (jungkook x fem!reader)

Summary: You and your tattoo ex Jeon Jungkook have been broken up for the past 2 years. But what happens he enters your life again when you just have gotten over him?

Pairing: jungkook x reader, reader x jimin

Genre: angsty af, tattoo artist Jungkook, eventual smut (?), break up!au

Words: 3.4k

Chapter 4/6 (1) (2) (3) (5)

WARNING: This chapter does mention sexual harassment. If this affects you, I advise you please not to read. Viewer’s discretion is advised.

The next morning, you lay in bed as the sunlight dripped into your room. Your head was pounding from last night, and you felt a heavy weight in the pit of your stomach. Why did Jungkook still have so much influence over you? You groaned on the pillow, covering yourself in the blankets. 

A knock on the door filled the room. You heard the door creak open to see Jimin holding a plate of pancakes. He gave you a sympathetic look as you were buried in your little cocoon.

"Are you planning to get up today?" He laughed at you, placing the plate on the edge of the bed. 

You shook your head, the smell of the pancakes hit your nose and suddenly your stomach was rumbling with hunger. You sat up in bed and reached over for the pancakes. You gave Jimin a thank you as he plopped himself beside you on the bed. You took a bite out of your pancake, fluffy as always. Not as tasty as Jungkook’s a voice shot from your thoughts. You immediately felt guilt rush through your body. Jimin had been nothing but good to you. 

"Do you want to talk about last night?" Jimin said calmly, bringing up the elephant in the room. 

You broke eye-contact with him as visions of last night flashed before you. Jungkook kissing you and Jimin confessing to you. It all seemed too much for you to handle. 

"I don’t think it would help me if I’m honest," you replied. 

Jimin nodded with understanding. You were grateful for him not pushing you. What was there not to like about Jimin? He was a gentleman, had a good job, was funny and patient. Why couldn’t you reciprocate his love for you? 

Jimin dropped his head to rest on your shoulder. A simple gesture that you used to think nothing about, but now your mind was running with thoughts. 

"How did you even meet a guy like him?"

Your eyes widen at his question. You couldn’t even remember the last time you thought about how your relationship with Jungkook started. It just seemed so long ago. 

The noise of your friend’s car honking signalling that they were outside your house. You gave yourself one last look in the mirror while grabbing your school bag. You rushed outside your house to see all your friends in the car. Jumping in, you greeted all of them as you all made your way to school.

You and your friends were all gossiping and texting, catching up with the school drama you all missed. During high school, you were in the popular group of girls. Looks and reputation were most important to you during this time. You were always put together, was in the cheerleading group and studied hard in your classes.

"Hey, _______" your friend piped up, looking away from her phone, "I heard that jock guy you’ve been hanging around with wants to take you to prom!"

Your face immediately turned red at her words. Prom was coming up and you had your eyes on one guy. Yet he still hadn’t worked up the courage to ask you even though you were declining offers from other boys at your school. Your body was filled with a rush of adrenaline. Maybe today was the day he would finally ask you.

When you and your friends pulled up into the school’s car park, you all sat for a bit longer before the bell rang for classes to officially start. Suddenly, you heard the sound of an engine revving behind you. All your friends turned their heads to see a motorbike pulling up in the space beside you. With the driver having a helmet on, you couldn’t see the man's face, but you already knew who it was. 

Your friend scoffed, "Jeon Jungkook", as she watched the man get off his motorbike. 

"I heard he got arrested for drugs", another friend piped up, "He’s such a freak."

You nodded in agreement. "He's in my chemistry class," you said.

While you and he did not sit together in chemistry class, it didn’t stop you two both sharing glances at each other. You both were in opposite worlds. He was covered in tattoos and you worried about your hair and grades.  You never actually had a conversation with him. Besides, the occasionally sorry if you bumped into him or if you had to pair up with him for an experiment. He seemed quiet and reserved and didn’t want anything to do with the other students. His mysteriousness fascinated you, but you knew your friends would make fun of you if you ever confessed it to them. 

You sat in chemistry class bored. Your friend was not in class today, so you were sitting by yourself staring into space while the teacher talked away. Your mind went to the idea of your crush asking you to prom. The butterflies in your stomach fluttered away at the idea. You knew you were seeing him at lunch, so you were quite nervous as time passed.

"________ and Jungkook, you two can pair up as both your partners are absent today."

 You were pulled away from your thoughts by your teacher’s words. Hearing the sound of a chair moving and footsteps coming up behind you. You looked up to see Jungkook staring down at you. His face was expressionless as he sat down in the chair beside you. You gave a quick glance across his neck tattoos and silver rings on his long fingers.

As the teacher passed out the experiment sheet, you had the urge to actually have a conversation with him. You thought it was very irritating that Jungkook seemed to think he was above the rest of the students at school. Before you knew it, you turned your entire body to face him. 

"Hey"

Why are you talking to him? Nobody ever talks to him. Especially not the popular goody two shoes. 

"Hi", he responded dryly, raising his eyebrow at you. 

So enthusiastic you thought to yourself sarcastically.  He obviously had no intention of talking to you. 

"So, what part of the experiment do you want to do?" You suggested to him. 

Jungkook glanced down at the paper and shrugged. 

"It’s up to you."

You give him a glare and told him which parts of the experiments you two were doing. As you were preparing the chemical liquid, you made another attempt at making chat. 

"Are you going to the prom next month?"

"I don’t know, are you planning on asking me?" he shoot back at you. 

Your jaw almost dropped at his sly words. You looked away from his face and back to the experiment, reading the instructions so he couldn’t see the red in your face.

"You wish. Are you too cool to go to your school’s prom? " You sneered back at him.

Jungkook’s eyes turned to yours as his posture straightened up.

"Maybe I am too cool," he replied, "Or that prom is only fun for the popular group and everyone else just sits and watches, bored out of their mind."

"That isn’t true. What would you know about school? You hardly ever show up and when you do you never talk to anyone. "

"Well, I’m sorry I’m not in the popular group where the only thing I do is gossip and worry about my looks." Jungkook spat back at you.

You were frustrated that your attempt at a talk had now turned into an argument.

"You’re such a jerk Jungkook. I just wanted to have a conversation while we did this boring experiment. " You scoffed at him. You rested your chin on your palm, trying to breathe at a normal rate.

"It was a nice try, princess. But you and I are not the same and have nothing in common. Let us do this experiment and leave class so we never have to speak again. " He explained.

His word dug a sharp pain in your heart. He had no interest in talking to you at all. It was the first time you felt a sense of embarrassment for even trying. Why did he have to be so honest and blunt with you? You decided to take his words and you both carried on with the experiment in silence.

Near the end of class, you both finished up with the experiment and were now taking notes on it. You bit your lip and sneaked a glance over at Jungkook. He had finished writing the notes and was now staring at you.

"Why do you never talk to anyone?" You mumbled.

Jungkook gave you another look. He thought the conversation was over. His eyes darted around your perfect face and saw that his words hit you. He didn’t expect you to have such a strong reaction, he didn’t think you cared about what he thought.

"I would just rather be alone," he answered.

"But don’t you ever get lonely?"

Yes.

"No. Not at all. " He said blankly.

You opened your mouth to speak but the bell rang indicating it was lunch time. Your mind immediately turned to your crush. You shot up off your chair and quickly threw your stuff in your bag. You gave Jungkook one last look and said goodbye, quickly hurrying out of the class.

Jungkook rolled his eyes at how fast your emotions changed. He thought about how you genuinely wanted to talk to him and get to know him. He did not know why he was so defensive, maybe because no one had ever made an effort to talk to him. He threw his bag around his shoulder, ready to leave when he spotted something on the ground. His gaze landed on a pair of house keys. Assuming it must have been yours due to how quickly you left the room; it must have dropped out of your bag. He reached down and picked the metal key up, slipping it into his pockets. He better return it to you before lunch is finished.

Meet me behind the school building.

You reread the text over and over again. You felt like you couldn’t breathe because of how excited you were. You quickly pulled out your pocket mirror and checked your makeup and hair. He was finally going to ask you to prom after dropping so many hints to him. You rushed to the back of the school building. It was always deserted and hidden, so it would just be you and him there.

You turned the corner and saw him standing there. You thought your heart was going to burst from joy. You walked over to him, fiddling with your fingers in nervousness.

"________!" The tall jock yelled at you as he saw you coming.

A wide grin spread across your face hearing him say your name. You gave a greeting to him and stood in front of him. He asked you how chemistry was, and you just said it was boring as usual. You wanted him to pop the question to you.

"So we have been talking for a while now," he began.

Your back immediately straightened up at his words. You buzzed with excitement. You nodded at his words.

"And I feel like we have been giving each other signals recently."

You nodded again in agreement. The tension was now building up in your stomach.

"So that's why I wanted to ask you…"

"Yes?" You spoke a little too quickly.

"Would you want to hook up with me after school in my car?"

Your face and heart immediately dropped.

"What?" was all you could say.

"Come on baby, I know you have been begging for it."

Your heart was shattering, and you couldn’t help but cringe at yourself. You turned your feet and walked away. You were so upset you couldn’t say anything to him.

“Where are you going?” He said catching up to you.

“Leave me alone now” You spat at him.

Suddenly, a hand grabbed your arm, pushing you into a wall. You flinched at the pain of the rough brick wall hitting your back and the man’s huge body pressing up against you.

"Stop playing so hard to get _______." The boy whispered into your ear. "I promise I’ll make you feel so good."

His hands moved to your hips to hold you in place. All you could do was shake your head.

"No. Please. No "

As you felt his hand move under your shirt, the weight of his body was suddenly gone. Jungkook was throwing blunt punches at the boy's face before you could even comprehend what was going on. You stood in shock for a moment, watching blood come out of the man’s nose as Jungkook kept beating him with all his strength.

"I swear on my life, if you touch her again you are dead!" Jungkook bellowed in the man’s face.

Before Jungkook could land another punch on the man, you quickly grabbed his shoulders and pulled him away.

"Leave him Jungkook, it is not worth it." You exclaimed at him.

Jungkook's gaze landed on yours, his chest was still heaving up and down in rage. He suddenly grabbed your hand and took you towards his motorcycle. He passed you the helmet and lifted you onto the seat. He still hadn’t spoken a word to you. He climbed on after you and started up the engine.  Your natural instinct was to wrap your hands around his waist as the bike started to move.

Jungkook drove out of the school. He kept driving straight until he came to a stop next to a fast-food restaurant's parking lot. As soon as he parked the motorbike, you took off your helmet and he climbed off the motorbike.

Before you could even say anything to him, Jungkook grabbed both your shoulders and stared into your eyes.

"Are you okay _____?" He asked, finally saying something.

"Jungkook I-"

"Are you okay?" he repeated more sternly.

"Yes." You nodded, answering him.

"Did he touch you?" he continued to ask. His face was covered in concern for you.

"No, he didn’t." You spoke.

You saw Jungkook breathe a sigh of relief. Who knows what Jungkook would have done to the guy if he actually had touched you. Jungkook let go of your shoulders and leaned on his bike. He stared down at the ground, his hair covering his face.

"I’m sorry that happened to you."

You gave a weak smile at his sincere words.

"And I am sorry I was such a dick to you this morning. I don’t know why I was. I was just so confused. " He explained.

Seeing this new side of Jungkook was unexpected to you. You didn’t know he could be so gentle and worried.

"It’s okay," you assured him.

"Do you mind if we start over again? Please? " Jungkook questioned, facing you.

"Sure thing, Jungkook" you said, giving a small laugh.

You both sat in silence for a while, staring into nothingness. Then a thought popped into your head.

"Why were you even going behind the school building in the first place?" You asked.

Jungkook’s smile appeared as he dug a hand into his pockets.

"I believe you dropped your keys," he said as he held up your house keys.

You both laughed as you shook your head with embarrassment.

"Then I guess I better owe you something." You said to him.

Your eyes landed on the fast-food place beside you.

"I’ll treat us to lunch!" You responded by tilting your head towards the burger joint.

You and Jungkook sat in the restaurant booth and talked until late in the day. Never before had you felt such a strong connection with someone as you did with Jungkook. You got to learn everything about him. His tattoos, his parents, his ambitions, and his opinions. You told him everything about yourself and your family, your college plans, and your future goals. He was paying close attention to you as you spoke. He admired the way your eyes sparkled, and your hands moved as you rambled on about school or your hobbies. Jungkook could sit and listen to you talk all day and never get sick of it.

When the fast-food restaurant finally closed for the night, Jungkook offered to drive you home, which you gladly accepted. You noticed the soft wind on your face and your hands around Jungkook as he and you drove home. It was comforting to be able to simply hold him. Jungkook wished the night could go on forever.

His bike pulled up beside your house, signalling the end of his journey. The only thing that made things visible to you were the streetlights. Jungkook helped you in getting off the bike by holding your hand. Your heart thumped a little faster than usual as a result of the gesture. You both stood silently facing each other. You were both adjusting to the fact that the night had come to an end. “Well, thanks for driving me home.” You said gratefully.

"No worries" Jungkook responded, tracing his tattoo on his arm.

"Are you going to be okay?" He asked.

You nodded, "I’ll be fine. Don’t worry. "

Jungkook smiled with understanding.

"I guess I will see you tomorrow in chemistry." He spoke up.

He knew that this night would never happen again. Things will return to normal, and you will never speak to him again. He said so himself, you two were two very different people. You were thinking about it too.

"Okay, see you tomorrow." You uttered to him.

Jungkook climbed back on to the bike as you turned to walk away. However, you could only take one step forward as your body froze into place. You couldn’t just leave Jungkook without saying something to him, but what?

Suddenly, you spun around and marched back up to face Jungkook. Before he could open his mouth, you cupped his jaw with your hands and placed a soft kiss on his lips. It lasted for a second before you pulled away. Jungkook stood with his eyes wide and expressionless. You blushed in embarrassment and turned away again. Not until his hands grabbed your hips and made you face him.

"No, you don’t" he whispered before pressing his lips back onto yours. It was pure ecstasy, and your heart was pounding with happiness as he pulled you into him.

All of your high school days were spent with him after that. When your friend group began to disapprove of Jungkook, you gradually distanced yourself from them. You and he spent the majority of your time together studying, eating, and sleeping. Jungkook enjoyed taking you out to eat or surprising you with a trip to the amusement park on special occasions. Jungkook finally confessed his feelings for you and officially asked you to be his after your second date. He was so ecstatic that you had accepted that he spun you around in his arms, nearly making you dizzy.

Jungkook asked you to prom later in the year. Even if he didn't like the idea, he understood how much it meant to you. He was also fascinated by the prospect of seeing you in a breathtaking dress. He even dressed up and put on a black suit and tie. He was a gentleman, bringing you flowers and reminding you throughout the night how beautiful you were. It was during the slow dance that he finally told you he loved you. He was madly in love with you. There was no one else who was more suited to him. That night, you gave him your virginity, and he swore he'd never leave you.

The love you two shared was indescribable. Jungkook was yours, and you would be his for  forever.

Jungkook sat in bed, reminiscing about you and him. He let you go despite the fact that you were his soulmate. As he remembered how you looked at Jimin, a small tear rolled down his cheek. He was all too familiar with the expression on your face.

He knew you would be happier without him. It was a thought that crushed him.

Perhaps it was time to let you go.

(Next Chapter) 

[v-hope]

Unscripted

Pairing: Actor!Kim Taehyung x Actress!Reader ft. (mentions of) Park Hyungsik

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 3.1k

Request: “Is this the moment that we kiss? + Taehyung + make it so awkward/cringe as you can and the ending so cute that you might have to throw up from it”

Summary: There might have been a slight change in the script for the k-drama Taehyung and you were starring on, but that did not mean there were any changes when it came to the way you felt towards each other when the cameras weren’t rolling.

A/N: So this was supposed to be a smol drabble but this idea came to my mind and I just went with it 🤧 i hope you guys enjoy!

When Taehyung had signed up to be a part of the next big k-drama coming later that year, starring both you and one of his favourite hyungs, Park Hyungsik, as his co-stars, he had signed up for a love triangle kind of plot, which would end up with him getting the girl in the end.

At least that was what the first script he had been handed to said.

And, as the story went on and your characters’ relationship developed, he could only be confident about that being indeed the outcome for it.

So now, after nearly three months of filming, it was finally the day they would shoot his first kiss with you. Well, his character’s first kiss with yours, to be more specific. Those were the lines he had rehearsed and also what he had emotionally prepared himself for — the idea of getting to kiss those lips of yours he had wanted to get a taste of ever since you first met, being the reason he had gotten little to no sleep the night before.

And that’s why, when the two of you were working on said scene, being face to face after he had followed you into Jieun’s —that being the role you were playing— living room, and you said different lines than the ones on his script, he found himself being absolutely puzzled. Nevertheless, everyone else seemed to be okay with it, which is why he carried on, saying the lines he had rehearsed, and this time being you the one to be completely dumbfounded.

However, even though you didn’t know what was going on, you did not find it in you to lean back and away from his lips, as you felt your heart beat ever so hardly against your chest at the sight of him leaning in to kiss you.

Not like it mattered anyway, for although you might have not found it in you to do something about it, the director didn’t have a problem with it — a loud “cut!” resounding all around the set, managing to stop Taehyung from pressing his lips on yours like both of you had so badly been anticipating.

“Taehyung, what the hell are you doing?” director Han questioned with furrowed eyebrows.

Taehyung’s mouth formed a pout, both because of not understanding what was going on, and because the moment he had been looking forward to the most —that being, your kiss’ scene— had been interrupted before it could even take place. “Isn’t this the moment we kiss?”

You found yourself taking in a shaky breath at his bold question, focusing on the lips of his that remained slightly puckered up in confusion after some people from the staff had gasped as others tried their best not to laugh.

“In the old script, yes. But not in the new one”.

“The new script?” Tae asked, giving you a quick glance and growing even more confused when you confirmed it with a small nod.

“Yes, you didn’t get it?” director Han had seemingly grown irritated by then.

“I… don’t think so?” Taehyung replied.

The director sighed, looking to his assistant next to him. “Okay, find out whose fault this was and tell them we need to talk” he ordered sternly, before he looked around and announced to the rest of the crew: “Everyone else, take five!”

With that said, and everyone else dispersing around the set to mind their own business, the man went up to the two of you.

“God, I can’t believe we’ll have to push back the recording because of this” he pinched at the bridge of his nose.

“It wasn’t his fault” you defended Tae in a heartbeat, causing his eyes to soften as they gazed to you.

“I know” director Han agreed with you, much to your surprise. “Still sucks though”.

That it did.

“So…” Taehyung begun. “What is this thing about a new script?”

“Oh, yeah,” the older man didn’t wait to begin his explanation. “You know how we’re always taking into consideration the viewers’ opinions as we go on with the story?”

“Yes…”

“Turns out, they all are over the moon with Y/N and Hyungsik’s chemistry,” those simple words were enough for Tae to feel uneasy. “So, after giving it a lot of thought and having a few meetings, we decided they will be this story’s endgame”.

Well, that surely had felt like a bucket of ice cold water being thrown straight to his face.

And although there were so many questions he wanted to ask, and so many of them he could’ve asked, he ended up looking at you and asking the one his heart felt more troubled with. “So you’re kissing Hyungsik hyung”.

It had not quite came out like a question, but more of a statement, yet either way, you nodded in affirmation.

Taehyung sighed. “I mean, hyung mentioned something about a kissing scene but… I didn’t know you...”

And although you didn’t have to explain yourself to him, at the sight of his disappointed expression, you felt the need to do so anyway. “It will only be a couple of times though. And it’s only for the drama, I wouldn’t—”

“Okay, look,” director Han cut your words off mid-sentence. “I don’t know what’s going on with you two when it comes to your personal lives, so I’ll leave you guys to talk it out. But um… we’re done for the day, I guess” he sighed, later fixing his eyes on Taehyung so he could inform him: “I’ll send you the new script. You guys may leave now”.

Nodding your heads, you watched the man head out of the set, leaving the two of you alone to ‘talk it out’.

The thing is, there was nothing to talk out. Or, more precisely, you didn’t know how to talk out what you so desperately wanted to do. Because you had feelings for him and he had feelings for you, but neither of you knew about one another’s. At least not for sure.

Truth be told, the two of you felt an instant attraction to each other the moment you met, but you thought nothing of it. You were both professionals. You would be a couple on the drama and that would be it, for you both knew getting involved with a co-star could only complicate things when it came to work.

However, that mindset of yours did not quite go to plan as the filming went on and you got to spend quite a lot of time together. Yes, your characters were written to fall in love, and so you had to act like it when the cameras were rolling, but the chemistry you and Taehyung had outside the set was, for sure, so, so much stronger than the one your contracts forced you to act out.

And so, soon enough, the two of you would be attached to the hip, spending not only every second off camera on set together, but also texting nonstop every other day you didn’t get to see each other.

It had just been so natural for the two of you to get along so well together, that neither of you questioned it. Neither of you had questioned why you felt like keep talking to each other every single moment you were apart, or why you craved one another’s attention whenever you spent time with other people of the crew… or why your hearts sped up so damn much every single time you were close.

You didn’t question any of that, you just went with it. To the point you came to terms with your feelings without having to go through any kind of epiphany. They were just there, and you would keep them to yourselves.

That’s why this particular kissing scene was so important to the both of you, for it would give you an excuse to do what you were dying to without actually having to risk anything. And that’s why you had been so disappointed when you got the new script three days before, and why Taehyung was now having such a hard time accepting the new fate of the plot.

“I, uh…” his eyes fixed on yours after a few seconds. “I’ll go change now…”

“Oh, okay…” you nodded. “I’ll go do the same”.

The sweet smile you gave him right then had somehow managed to ease the tension he had been feeling those last couple of minutes.

“You want me to drive you home?” he wondered like he did every day your shootings ended at the same time.

You could always just call your personal driver, he knew that, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t still try to spend as much time with you as he could. And the fact that you accepted his offer every single time could only encourage him to keep on doing so.

“You wouldn’t mind?” you asked with another smile, causing one of his own to take over his factions.

“You know I don’t”.

“Okay” you accepted, like it was oh-so-usual by now. “I’ll meet you at the parking lot in ten?”

“Yeah” he agreed, his smile only growing bigger at the way your stares had lingered before you turned around to go change into your personal clothes for once and for all.

That’s how, ten minutes later, just as agreed, you were entering his car, fastening your seat belts before he started driving over the route he knew by heart at this point.

The ride was quiet, yet not uncomfortable — both of you having too many things on your minds to even pay attention to the way the only sound filling the car was coming from the radio.

Both of you debating within yourselves whether or not you should bring up the topic the two of you were about to discuss before director Han interrupted you back on set.

And when Taehyung parked his car outside your place and you thanked him for the ride home, placing your hand over the door handle so you could pull at it and get out, he found himself speaking before he could even stop himself.

“Hey, uh…” his quite unsteady voice caught your attention. “It slipped my mind to say it before, but sorry about today…” he apologized when your eyes met his. “I never meant to make things uncomfortable for you… for us…”

You smiled sweetly at his sincere words. “It’s okay, Taehyung-ie” his heart jumped at the way his name sounded like honey to him whenever you said it. “It wasn’t uncomfortable… I was just, you know… worried you would get scolded because of the script and all that”.

“Yeah…” he recalled the way you had jumped on his defense the moment director Han had approached you. “Thank you about that…”

“It was nothing…” you shrugged. “Sorry I didn’t tell you about it” it was now your turn to apologize. “I know we talk quite a lot and I had the chance to, but I just assumed you had read the new script”.

“It’s okay, don’t worry” he reassured you.

“Do you have time to learn it?” you wondered, knowing both his idol and actor schedules tended to overlap a little too much.

Taehyung nodded softly before he gave you a small, reassuring smile. “I’ll manage”.

“That’s good” you smiled as well. “If you want to rehearse our scenes beforehand or just need help with yours… just hit me up”.

“I probably will, to be honest” he chuckled, earning a light laugh from you; for going over your scenes together from time to time, just for the sake of it, was something the two of you had found out to be rather helpful these last couple of months. “Sucks you will be rehearsing the kissing ones with hyung now…”

Your heart jumped, feeling your face heat up at his boldness.

“I don’t think we’ll be rehearsing them. I mean…” your eyes nervously gazed to the window. “We never did…”

Taehyung took in a deep breath. “Right…”

And although a part of him was screaming at him to just shut his mouth, for he had been bold enough already, he couldn’t help but go on with it; not wanting to let go of the topic just yet.

“Why didn’t we?”

Because we’re idiots. Because it would’ve felt too real. Something along those lines was the answer you wanted to give him.

Instead, you said nothing, just shrugging and looking out the window to your place. “Doesn’t matter anymore…” your eyes travelled back to him, taking in his beautiful factions and anticipating eyes before you explained: “Junho’s the one getting the girl now”.

The way your eyebrows had teasingly moved up and down as you referred to Hyungsik’s character, got Taehyung throwing his head back against the driver’s seat as a loud whine escaped his mouth.

“Aish, you little—”

He wasn’t planning on finishing that sentence, of course, so he stopped himself mid-sentence right as you threw your head back as well — a loud laugh coming out of your mouth.

“Just for the record,” you faced him, catching his attention. “I was really rooting for Sehun”.

A flustered laugh abandoned his lips, shaking his head in disbelief before his chocolate eyes fixed on yours once again. “Yeah… he would’ve been good to Jieun” he lamented his role’s defeat with a small, dramatic nod.

You giggled. “I know. But J—”

“If you say Junho will be better, Y/N, I swear to fucking God—”

Just like he had cut off your words mid-sentence right before, you cut his — only not with actual words, but with a cackle instead. “Biased much?”

“Sehun would’ve been better and you know it!” he accused you.

“Oh, yeah?” you questioned rather tauntingly, unconsciously moving closer with a daring demeanour.

“Yeah” he stated confidently. “And he would’ve kissed her so much better, too”.

Although your heart had skipped a beat at that and your hands were suddenly trembling, you went on with the teasing, not being ready to lose the unspoken competition this conversation had somehow just turned into. “Hm... I wouldn’t know about that though…”

“I can show you if you want”.

Just like that, Taehyung left you speechless.

He had gone for it, and was waiting for an answer now. One you weren’t able to give him with actual words, but with a small, almost unnoticeable, nod of your head instead.

It didn’t go unnoticed by him, though — the way your eyes had focused on his attractive lips being the last straw for him to just finally let go of any rational thought he might’ve had until then.

Tenderly cupping your face, he brought his face just close enough to yours so you could feel your already heavy breathings mix, before he gazed up to your eyes for one last brief second.

“Is this the moment we kiss?” he mocked his previous words that day, earning a giggle from you that sounded like music to his ears.

“Just kiss me already, you dork”.

So he did.

Gently caressing the corners of your mouth with his thumbs, he brought your face up to meet his lips in the middle — softly pressing them together.

And only that took for you to know you would, from then on, not enjoy kissing any other than him.

Letting out quiet, content hum when he deepened the kiss a few moments later, you pressed your hands on his chest, causing him to smile at the way your hands had lightly tugged at the fabric of his sweater as you managed to pull him even closer to you.

Damn the directors for depriving you both of the many kisses you could’ve gotten as the series went on.

“Was that Sehun kissing Jieun or Taehyung kissing Y/N?” you couldn’t help but softly ask once your lips were no longer trapped in his cloudlike ones.

He laughed under his breath, sweetly running his thumbs on your cheeks. “If I said it was just me kissing you, would you be okay with it?”

You nodded in a heartbeat, not being able to hold back a small giggle that had his heart skipping a beat in a second.

“Oh, good” he finally breathed out the air he didn’t know he had been holding, letting his forehead rest on yours. “Because I’ve wanted to do that for a while now”.

“So have I” you laughed lightly under your breath, lovingly removing a strand of hair that was covering one of his pretty eyes. “Maybe our characters won’t get to be together but… that doesn’t have to apply to us, does it?”

“Absolutely not” he smiled, planting a small peck on your lips. “Even if people think you have better chemistry with hyung, whatever that means”.

You couldn’t help but laugh at the bitter remark he had let out, followed by a huff. Director Han’s words had really stung deep. Maybe if it had just been that the viewers liked Junho and Jieun together, it wouldn’t have been that bad. But he said Hyungsik and you. As your own persons outside of the fictional drama world. And that was a whole different situation he could not help but dislike.

Kissing his cheek ever so sweetly, you pulled back to fix your eyes on his. “Good thing I don’t care what they think” those words alone made that cute boxy smile of his show on his face. “Are you okay with me having to kiss him though?”

“Can’t promise I won’t get a little jealous, but… it’s your job, of course I’m okay with it” he smiled reassuringly. “I’ll have you know, though,” his eyes squinted daringly. “For every time you kiss him, you’ll have to kiss me a hundred times to make it up to me”.

You snorted. “Don’t you think that’s a little too overpriced?” your teasing words had him raising his eyebrows. “How about five kisses for each time I kiss him?”

“Did I stutter?” he lowered his tone to seem more serious, causing you to bite your bottom lip as you shook your head in amusement.

“Oh, well…” you sighed over dramatically. “You’ll be too distracted kissing me to even keep count of them anyway”.

“Don’t test me, baby”.

“Okay, okay. I won’t” you laughed, catching him by surprise when the next second your hands tugged once again at his sweater to pull him closer. “May I pay some of those in advance though? Since there will be way too many of them to pay for in a few days”.

Taehyung chuckled, gently pushing your chin up with his thumb as his face came closer to yours, until his pink lips were faintly brushing yours. “That you may do”.

[lyrasilverspring]

Valkyrie’s Interview

“And now on to our first single tribute, your chosen Villain: Valkyrie Maddox!” Dora Tale’s voice was sugar-sweet and near ultrasonic in pitch. Valkyrie had already grown tired of listening to it babble across the couple interviews. She’d paid little attention to the interviews so far, picking up titbits every now and then, but mostly trying to imagine herself anywhere else- preferably drunk.

As the music started, she took a second to consider what would happen if she just didn’t go, but she didn’t particularly feel like being dragged on stage. The interview would be bad enough already, no need to make it worse when there was no way she was getting out of it. She walked on calmly and neutrally, not quick, not eager, not slow or reluctant. She sat in the chair opposite, looking out over the audience but not bothering to offer them a smile or a wave. She turned to Tale, eyebrow raised expectantly.

“A pleasure to meet you Valkyrie, or should I say V?” she smiled familiarly, clearly expecting V’s attitude, “We’ve been watching you and my goodness have you really made quite the stir in your time here at the Capitol.”

Valkyrie looked at her expectant face, uncomfortable being so openly reduced to nothing more than entertainment for the masses, “Yes,” she answered plainly, “I prefer to be called V.”

The laugh Dora let out in response was unnerving- tinkling and bright but utterly hollow, “Just as taciturn in person I see! Don’t worry dear, I know you’re just meeting all of us, but we’ve been watching you for so long now we might as well be family!”

“I don’t have any family,” Valkyrie shrugged, “So I don’t know that that helps me so much.”

Dora and the audience let out a sad ‘aww’ and Valkyrie squirmed slightly, “Is that, perhaps,” Dora began, “Why you’ve been so distant from the rest of the tributes? I’m sure it’s a big shift to go from no one at all in the world to such a big new family!”

Valkyrie frowned at her, “The other tributes aren’t my family. The only thing they have in common with my family is that they will also be killed by the Capitol. Besides, this is the most social I’ve been in years. I understand that I appear distant to others, but by my standards I might as well be a social butterfly.”

Dora’s face twitched slightly at the mention of the Capitol, but brightened exaggeratedly at the latter statement, “I understand, V,” she turned to the audience, “We all know how difficult it can be for the socially… challenged to meet new people, and if that’s the case then we’re no doubt all very impressed by what you have achieved here.”

Valkyrie raised her brow, “Well you can’t be that impressed, you voted for me to be the Villain,” she pointed out.

Again, false laughter fell from Dora’s mouth, though more aggressive this time, “Oh Valkyrie! Sorry, V- that just means that we love to hate you my dear. The love is still there, don’t you worry!” she reached out as if to bop Valkyrie’s nose, but met only air and she flinched back, hard, “Who would have thought the mighty Valkyrie so skittish ladies and gentlemen!” she laughed to the audience.

Dora looked over at Valkyrie expectantly, but she genuinely had nothing to say in response to what had just happened.

“One can’t help but wonder,” Dora began, her voice taking on a sly edge, “If it was this kind of squirrely resistance to basic human contact that drove the wedge between you and district five’s Aphrodite?”

Valkyrie stiffened slightly and watched Dora’s eyes narrow in on the movement, straightening before answering, “I suspect that wasn’t it, though I could be wrong.”

Dora leaned further forward in her chair, closing about half of the distance Valkyrie had created, “Well what can you tell us about the ill-fated relationship of Aphrodite and Valkyrie? I’m sure everyone would love to know- you seemed so sweetly in love that night in the bathroom.”

Valkyrie’s face darkened, “Relationship is a strong word. I would say we never got to that stage. We were intrigued by each other, but it never would have worked. And it didn’t.”

“Well we all saw that!” Dora laughed lightly, “Honestly when she threatened to kill you I could have been knocked over by a stiff breeze I was so shocked! We all expected it from you, of course, what with the whole-“ she vaguely waved her hand at V, “But from Aphrodite! It was truly shocking, especially after the dance, and the way she pulled you in as if she was going to kiss you, and then bam! Death threat and she left. And honestly, my dear, we’ve been watching and you really haven’t been the same since. The alcohol? Oh, it was just tragic to watch wasn’t it folks?” she turned to the audience for a brief reaction before continuing eagerly, “You know there were still a few people holding out for you and Aphrodite to patch things up but I guess now that boat has well and truly sailed for you, hasn’t it?”

Valkyrie was overwhelmed and uncomfortable, and feeling very caged in, “Yes, I’m sure that was a very difficult time for all the viewers at home,” she heard the sarcasm leak into her voice as it turned colder.

“Oh,” Dora’s face twisted into a caricature of remorse, “Please don’t think me insensitive, darling, I’m just explaining to you that you have support, right folks? I know!” she gasped, “Let’s have a little bit of audience participation!” Valkyrie went still, “Since we haven’t been able to vote on titles since the big breakup, let’s hold a quick vote now! What do we think?”

The crowd shouted out their approval as Valkyrie shrunk back into her chair slightly.

“Those who think Aphrodite is the victim, give me a cheer in 3.. 2.. 1!” Valkyrie felt herself try to drift away from her body- if any time was the time to perfect astral projection, it was now, “Very good Team Aphrodite, and now for Team Valkyrie, 3… 2… 1!”

Both sides received cheers, though she was too busy trying to mentally escape the situation to truly judge the difference between the groups.

“You see Valkyrie,” she smiled, “Sorry, V, you do have supporters despite your cold, harsh exterior. Why I’m sure there are even some people who still want you to win!” she paused slightly, though there was no response from the audience, “I mean they may not be here tonight, but I’m sure there are people at home who are supporting you, my dear.”

“Thank you,” Valkyrie ground out.

Dora continued unphased, “Though I’m sure they’re all wondering why you’re coming to us all alone today! After all, the people have been pushing for you to partner with your district mate, Lanthan since day one!” when she received nothing more than a nod of acknowledgement she prodded a little harder, “So why don’t you tell us what happened? Why aren’t we talking to you and the dreamy, dangerous Lanthan Shale?”

Valkyrie stiffened, and when she spoke her voice was cold, “Lanthan Shale is a psychopath and a creep.”

Dora gasped dramatically, “Oh, do go on!” and when it appeared that Valkyrie did not intend to go on she followed up with, “Please Valkyrie, I insist.”

“Well,” she answered, “He’s always been weirdly obsessed with me and I think he gets off to the idea of me killing somebody. Well I know he does- he’s told me.”

“… Oh,” Dora’s mouth hung open for a second before her grin turned devious, “So you’ve been the object of his affections for some time, it sounds like. Did anything ever… happen?”

Valkyrie reared back incredulously, “Did you not hear the part where he gets off to murder? Of course nothing ever happened between us.”

“Then what was that kiss back at the start?” Dora smirked.

“A mistake,” Valkyrie answered.

“A villain and a tease,” Dora arched her brow, “Oh how you do make it so easy to hate you Valkyrie. And on that note, we went back to your district to find out about the Valkyrie Maddox before the games.”

Valkyrie frowned, “Who did you ask?”

“Just some friends,” Dora waved off, about to continue when Valkyrie interrupted.

“That’s funny,” Valkyrie raised a brow, “I didn’t know the dead could talk.”

Dora continued as if she hadn’t spoken, turning to the audience, “We asked around the district, and whilst many knew of the young Maddox scion, not many seemed to like her. Valkyrie,” she turned back, “Why is it that you are so disliked amongst the members of your district?”

Valkyrie shrugged, “My family betrayed the Capitol. I grew up in a house of care. I made friends with a no name. District two doesn’t smile kindly on people like me.”

“And yet you still became a Career,” Dora pointed out.

Valkyrie shrugged once more, “I had no intention of entering the games. I have no intention of winning the games. My life was really a waste of time, I suppose. I should have died with my parents that day.”

“And that is all we have time for folks,” Dora gushed with a big smile, “Ladies and gentleman, Valkyrie Maddox of District Two!”

As soon as she was allowed to leave she stood up and left, not saying goodbye, not waving, not smiling, just determined to get the fuck off that stage.

[bluehhj]

listen to me — chapter 18

LISTEN TO ME  — 0018

listen to me masterlist;

WORDS: 1.7K

Jisung was the first to leave the room when the shrill sound of the bell that marked the beginning of the break reached his ears. At that point he was almost asleep sitting up, because he hated when lazy teachers — as he called any member of staff who traded practical classes for slide shows that no one ever showed enthusiasm — turned out the lights, closed the curtains and still demanded attention of the students when neither they themselves seemed to know what they were talking about. The least they could expect from the class was for at least 90% of it to fall asleep, right? The reason for thinking differently, Jisung would never know.

As Han finished down the last step of the stairs of his building, Han was forced to stop abruptly so as not to hit another person who passed by in an absent-minded manner. His eyes lifted in the next second, and when he saw who it was, it was impossible not to let his almost calm expression be replaced by a scowl.

Kim Seungmin almost turned blue. He wanted to dig a hole in the ground and fall until it disappeared from the face of the Earth, all so that he didn't have to face Jisung and his face of homicide. It was no exaggeration to say that he wanted to cry at that very moment.

"Aren't you going to get out of my way?" Han asked after a few moments, staring into the face of the younger, who hadn't moved either.

Seungmin opened his mouth and closed it again as if he wanted to say something, but lacked the courage. He finally lowered his head and, using the little speed that the thawed part of his brain could send to the rest of his body, left and went somewhere else out of Han's field of vision.

Jisung sighed and told himself he wouldn't let it upset his day; soon, he continued on his way and soon found Hyunjin and Yoorim. The couple discussed children's animations.

"But Hotel Transylvania 3 was the best movie of the year, oppa," Heo kept saying. "Not even Ferdinand can overcome!"

"Ferdinand was one of the worst movies I've ever seen," Hwang countered. "He's cute, but there's nothing too much."

"He's very kind, okay? You don't have the right to say that kind of thing of someone who has such a good heart."

"All right, all right..." Hyunjin surrendered to the fact that he couldn't offend the dammit bull, but he was quick to insist on the subject that triggered the whole discussion. "But Coco remains the best movie ever."

Yoorim shoved her boyfriend, who laughed.

"It's not funny, you idiot! Jisung oppa, tell him he's wrong!"

"I don't even know what the two of you are talking about," Han was sincere in replying, since he was being a mere viewer in that bloody clash.

"There's only one person who can tell the truth about all of this" Hyunjin grew serious again and didn't have to name names, for an exchange of looks was enough for Yoorim to know exactly who the wise mind he was referring to was. They soon made their way toward the dining hall. In the end, it was just another normal day for Jisung.

"Your hair looks beautiful today." Jinah appeared at his side and praised without much pretense.

"Oh, so you mean you remember me now?" Jisung replied with another question, ignoring the girl's last speech.

"I didn't forget you."

"It wasn't what your face said yesterday."

"It was a bad day" one of the corners of Jinah's lips rose in a silent apology. "I thought it was already clear that I wasn't going to leave you alone any time soon."

Jisung looked down at his sneakers and smiled slightly. If someone told him a few days ago that he'd feel so good listening to those words of Jinah — Jinah, the person he most tried to push away from the beginning — he'd probably laugh and say that the same person had overdone drugs.

"What did you have yesterday?" he asked as they entered the cafeteria. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't been a little worried.

"Eventual bad mood" the girl shrugged and sat at one of the first tables which was more isolated from the others. "It happens. It's over."

"Strange."

"Hey, I put up with all your mood swings, you have to put up with mine, too."

"Right" that was a fact that Jisung couldn't even think of disagreeing with. "Aren't you going to eat anything?" he pointed his chin at a diner in the cafeteria.

"Go ahead, I'm not hungry."

The boy wrinkled his nose, "Today's pizza day and I don't like it."

Jinah looked at him as if he had offended some sacred divinity.

"You're joking that you don't like pizza."

"I like it, but not this cheese pizza," Choi's shoulders softened the tension as Jisung cleared things up. "I prefer chicken pizzas."

"It makes me think I know next to nothing about you."

"And what do you want to know?"

"I don't know..." Jinah thought for a moment and shrugged again. "The basics I still don't know."

"Well, I dated for three years and I was engaged for eleven months, but I think we're both tired of this subject." Jisung put his arms around the table and started thinking. Talking about himself to other people wasn't something he was accustomed to. "I have a brother who lives in Malaysia; my parents are divorced and my mother is always traveling to take care of business; I don't like crowded places and when people hide things from me. That's the basics of the basics."

"I also don't like crowded places. Or high places."

"What else?" Jisung was really interested to know about Jinah's life.

"I prefer cats to dogs, I have no siblings, and I collect a history of failed relationships since high school."

"Seriously?" Han raised an eyebrow. "You don't look like someone who suffers for love."

"Everyone suffers or has ever suffered for love" Choi didn't feel at all uncomfortable talking about her old disastrous experiences. Thinking about the past and paralleling the present and the future was a way of seeing how she had evolved in thinking and acting. "I just learned to disguise. I mean, it has times that it doesn't work very well, but it's not always."

"And you're disguising now?"

"I think not."

"You think?" Jisung smirked. "Well, I don't believe it, you can tell me who it is."

Jinah almost smiled too, if it weren't for her tongue pressing her left cheek inside as she pondered. Even though she admitted that she had a little crush on Han, she wasn't yet completely in love with him, nor did she love him. However, she knew that the boy wouldn't settle down until he got a satisfactory answer. She, then, decided to comment on her last unilateral love of the list.

"First of all, I don't think, I'm sure," she was sincere this time, since it had been some time since she had felt nothing for the person in question. "Im Jaebum."

"The one who graduated last year?"

"Yeah."

"Understandable" Jisung remembered how many people had had a crush on the one whose.

"Yeah." Jinah raised her eyebrows quickly, as if to say 'do what'. "Woojin was close to him, which turned out to be a bit of me too. But then there was a party, he kissed me and I fell in love. I later discovered that the girl he liked was with another guy and that he had only done that out of spite," she twisted her lips, thinking how foolish she was to fall so fast in love with people. "It hurt a little, but that was by no means the worst."

"Is there anything worse than that?"

"Oh, yeah!" Jinah laughed, though it wasn't funny at all. "Believe me, you're not the only one who is or think have been really bad."

Jisung stared at his fingers for a moment. He couldn't imagine what Jinah had been forced to go through, but he was afraid it was something more serious than he supposed. Suddenly, he felt a little selfish for having lamented so much about his life — not that his situation with Kwon Chaerin was being easy — and never given the necessary importance to Choi's, who had always been trying to help him. However, as much as he wanted to discover it more deeply, he knew that this wasn't the hour or the place.

"It's a little contradictory to say that to a future psychologist, but you can look for me if you need anything."

Jinah nodded, "I know how to handle the problems of others, but I don't always know how to deal with mine, so, thank you."

Before the boy could change the subject, Hyunjin and Yoorim's voices about the same subject from earlier invaded his ears, now being supplemented by Woojin's voice, which insisted on stating that the two were wrong and that The Boss Baby was the best animation ever created.

"There's one more fact about me," Jisung said, casting a tedious look at the three of them. "I hate animations."

"I think it's cute," Jinah said. "But I still prefer romance movies."

"Why doesn't that make me not even a bit surprised?"

"I can also see a horror movie, okay?" who was Choi trying to fool? She was the first to cover her face with a cushion whenever the soundtrack changed.

"I doubt it." Han folded his arms. "You're too cute to be able to see all that blood."

"Are you doubting me, Han Jisung?" was a rhetorical question. And even though she was aware of the colossal bullshit she was about to do, Jinah dared to throw the words out: "We're going to the movies and I'll prove to you that I'm not afraid of horror movies."

"Saturday, at eight. I already know what the session will be."

"I'm in."

Jisung didn't want to say it aloud, but it was clear that it'd turn into a good old cliche where Jinah would die of fear and it'd be up to him to comfort her. But, in the end, it wasn't as if Han cared.

a/n: let me ask something. you guys must have noticed that jisung is already getting nicer (this doesn't mean that no relapses can occur, but not in the sense that he treats jinah wrong) and i wanted to know if things aren't going too fast. in my point of view it's ok, but i wanted to know yours. constructive criticism doesn't affect me, i even like to receive them to know what i should improve, so help me!! love youu <33

[panda-noosh]

Action!{P5}{Lance x YouTuber!Reader}{AU}

   Words: 6,945

   Summary: Being a YouTube guru is hard enough without the added stress of living with Lance McClain, the man who insists on bombarding into every YouTube video you try to film. His viewers love him, and so do you.

  Pairing: Lance McClain x YouTuber!Reader

  Notes: p1 - p2 - p3 - p4 - p6 - p7 ; someone take my laptop away from me this hurt.

   The vlogging camera felt oddly heavy in your hands as you held it above your head for the first time in nearly two weeks. The LA sun shone down on you, illuminating the fresh make up look you had applied for this night in particular – a smokey eye with dark brown lipstick, skin looking smooth and untouched, free of blotches that were hidden beneath a thin layer of foundation.

   It made a difference, you had to admit. Your skin care routine had been abruptly neglected after you had left your apartment, meaning your acne prone skin had started breaking out all over again. It was nice to finally look at yourself and not see an emotional mess.

    “Welcome to the vlog!” is the first thing you say, doing a small twirl at your hotel room window. You can hear Emma giggling in the background, watching you with fond eyes and a bright grin as she applies her fourteenth layer of mascara onto her already-perfect-length eyelashes.

   You grin, looking out at the view of LA. Even though your body felt numb and you wanted nothing more than to take off the tight dress you had pulled on over your body, you could appreciate a good view, and you could appreciate a good day. Today was Emma's day, and you were determined to make it as drama-free as you possibly could.

   “So, everyone, I am back vlogging,” you continue. “And what better way to restart this channel than with a vlog celebrating one of my bestest friends in the entire world finally making her dreams come true!”

  You turn the camera around, pointing it at Emma who now stands up straight, revealing her entire outfit with her make up look finally complete. You have to look at her in awe – she wears a skin-tight, emerald green dress with a matching necklace that you and Samuel had bought for her for her 20th birthday. You had never seen it around her neck before, with her insisting that it was only to be worn on 'special occasions.'

   Her make up was done up perfectly and her hair was styled in it's usual, bouncy do that took so much time to style, and yet Emma always seemed to wear it as if it was no big deal. It was perfect. She looked perfect, and for the first time in five days, you were able to finally smile a genuine smile, a swelling feeling of proudness erupting in the pit of your stomach.

   “You're battery isn't gonna last long if you keep it recording like that,” Emma chuckles, and it is only then that you realise you had frozen in your spot with the camera still rolling.

   You grumble incoherent words and shut the vlogging camera off, hoping that the editing can make the footage look less choppy and messy.

   “I'm a little rusty,” you mumble. “Anyway, you look gorgeous, Emma. You're gonna make a perfect first impression.”

   Emma grins. “I hope so. I've never been so nervous in my entire life.”

   “You have no reason to be nervous. Everybodies gonna love the art work you have to show them, and you're gonna wow the crowd with your amazing personality.”

   “I honestly think it's the necklace.”

  You chuckle, taking the emerald in between your fingers and twirling it slightly. “No. This is all you.” You smile. “When are we meeting the boys?”

    Emma sighs, pulling her phone out of her bag to look at the time. “In about ten minutes, but no doubt Samuel will already be there. He hates showing up late with the wheel chair.”

   “Poor kid.”

   “I'd show a little bit more sympathy if he stopped dragging my ass out of bed ten minutes early just so I can watch him do wheelies in the parking lot.”

    You had never been to a professional art show.

   Museums, the odd opening in your home town but never anything serious. Never anything that consisted of real, authentic art where the artists were walking around like nothing was a big deal. By the time you had walked from one end of the car park to the other, you had seen around 4 world-class artists who were here for the art show opening – the art show opening that your best friend was opening with her own art work.

   You weren't sure why you were feeling nervous. Every emotion within your body had been swelling ten fold the past few days, but this was on a whole other level. You were only an on looker, and yet your hands were clamming up as if you were the one due to be making the speech. Emma didn't look half as nervous as you, her head held high and her shoulders pushed back as she chatted away to the curator like a real business women would.

   You and Shiro walked behind her whilst Samuel was lazily pushed, him too busy fighting with an oversized brochure to bother pushing his own wheelchair.

   “So apparently there's only two disabled ramps in the entire building,” Samuel says as you follow Emma and the curator into the building. “But if my calculations are correct, there's more than two sets of steps in this place. Which means I'm suddenly offended.”

    Shiro rolls his eyes, shaking his head at your friends comments. “We'll find a way to get you up the stairs, mate, don't worry.”

   “I know you will,” Samuel grunts. “I didn't give you an option there, mate. All I'm saying is, there should be more than two wheelchair ramps. It's an insult to me and I've already been through enough today.”

    “That waitress didn't mean to-”

   “She wanted to see if I could feel the fork land in my lap. I know she did, and you cannot persuade me otherwise.”

   Shiro shakes his head again, looking at you with a raised eyebrow as if to ask if Samuel was always like this. You could only shrug in response, not entirely sure how to reply. The man had been one of your closest friends for nearly seven years now, but he hasn't always been such an easily-wound up bloke. Before the accident, he was grinning all the time, did cross-country and boxing and skiied whenever he could.

   After the accident, every little thing bothered him. Every little glance sent his way set him off because he truly believed everybody just saw his wheelchair, and his dead legs and the way he sometimes winced in pain whenever there really was no pain to be feeling.

    You and Emma had stayed by him, though. If there was anybody with a right to feel paranoid about people staring, it was Samuel.

    The museum that the art show is held in is a big one. Halls made of marble with massive stone sculptures of Greek gods sat upright in the middle of it all. Signs were bedazzled with specs of gold that you run your fingers over loosely, admiring how cold the stones feel against your fingertips. Paintings are hung up on walls, special ones covered in a thick box of glass whilst some had simply been hung up by a nail and a frame.

   The building was yet to fill up with people. You had to arrive early with Emma due to her having to go over her lines with the curator, but you could admire the empty scenery whilst it lasted. You weren't entirely sure how you were going to react whenever the place started to fill up with people. Perhaps you would hide in the back. Perhaps you would chatter amongst people, get their opinions on Emma's art work for later reference. You knew feedback would be something she'd appreciate.

   It felt nice, you noticed. Standing in the middle of this massive, spacious, marble room with only the sound of the curators soft voice in the background. It was peaceful. Your mind wasn't working at one hundred miles an hour at the moment, and that was something you could appreciate.

    A hand lands on your arm, startling you. You gasp, spinning around only to be met with the soft eyes of Shiro, who stands behind you with the smile he had been wearing all day still plastered on his features.

   “Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you,” he says, stuffing his hands in his blazer pockets.

   He cleaned up well for somebody who worked part-time in a coffee shop. He wore a baby blue dress shirt underneath a thin, black blazer, the first couple of buttons undone to reveal a hint of what looked like a well-worked chest.

   “It's okay,” you reply. “Is everything okay?”

  Shiro blanks for a moment, opening his mouth to speak before abruptly deciding against it. Instead, he lets his eyes trail off to look over at Emma, who busies herself with the canvas she is currently messing with. Samuel is at the side of her, guiding her through what to do with rough yells of “Are you stupid? To the left!”

    “They get along,” you say. “Samuel's just a bit-”

   “No, I understand,” Shiro assures, turning back to look at you. “I'm having a good time. I'm glad you guys let me tag along.”   “Don't act like you didn't have plans made before we invited you. You've gotten quite popular since high school, so I've heard.”

   Shiro crinkles up his nose, a playful smile playing at his lips as you two are suddenly thrown back to the world of high school which you suffered through together for seven years. You had been far from popular back in your high school days, though you were happy to say that you weren't alone in that aspect. Shiro had his fair share of hard times during high school, and you vaguely remember him being the kid with the book. The kid who was never spotted without a 500 page novel in his hand, slumped against the lockets with it balancing on his knees, engulfed in the story that he was reading.

   He had worn glasses back then and had been bullied for it quite a bit. You remember rushing to your next class, scared of being late, and overhearing the popular kids talk about Shiro like he was a joke for having bad eye sight.

   Shiro was basically the scrawny kid – a large difference to what he was like now. His high school self had brought on awkward smiles and bad haircuts that consisted of choppy bands that barely reached his eyebrows. His eyes were constantly swollen from lack of sleep and his lips were always chewed up from hours upon hours of mindlessly ripping the skin off of them.

   Now he had muscle. Now he wore contacts. Now he was an adult, and it takes this moment for you to realise just how much the two of you had changed and just how much of Shiro's growing process you had actually witnessed in your years of friendship with him.

    “Did you expect things to go this way back whenever we were in high school?” you blurt out before you know why.

   Shiro looks down at you, his smile fading in confusion. “What do you mean?”    You sigh, pulling your hands around yourself. “Like, did you expect me to become a YouTuber? Did you expect me to look this way? Because I certainly didn't expect you to glow up in the way you have done.”

   A blush creeps upon Shiro's cheeks which he fails at covering by itching at his face. “I mean, I knew you would be something big, I guess. Even though you were fairly quiet, I always saw the potential in you, the creativity you had. Maybe it was because I spent my days reading books in the hallway, but I can spot a good brain from a mile away, and you had it. Even if you didn't show it off like you should have.”

   He was right. You had always been the creative type. Not in the way where you could pick up a paintbrush and make wonderful masterpieces like Emma. Not in the way Shiro could write out words like his life revolved around beautiful prose and pulling at heart strings – you had the skill of making things come to life on your own. All you ever needed was a camera, some make up and a good enough video idea and that would be you set for the rest of the week.

   You smile at the thought. The memory of your 10 year old self setting up her first camera and talking to it like it was an old friend.

   That ten year old certainly had no idea she would be where she is now – two million subscribers down the road, living her best life.

   Stood in the middle of a marble room, her heart completely broken with a fake smile pulling at her features.

   You push the intrusive thought out of your head and look back up at Shiro. “I think we've done well for ourselves, Mr Shirogane.”

   Shiro chuckles, reaching an arm out, gesturing for you to loop your own through his. “I think we have done, Miss L/N.”

   “People take these things seriously,” Shiro tells you as the two of you stroll through the slowly-crowding room you had been locked in for the past hour. People were beginning to arrive - people in suits. People who looked like they could retire at the age of 24 and still have money left to put in a will after they died.

    “I can see that,” you mumble, referring to the way people formed such neat little circles around the art work. Back in your home town, whenever an art show was being hosted, all of the art work had to be specially guarded due to the amount of teenagers who made it their lifes goal to put their fingers on them. These people were being respectful, and it was odd to see.

    “Have you ever been into art?” Shiro asks.

   You shake your head almost immediately. “Not really. I never liked Art and Design at school-”

    “I remember.”

   “-but I’ve always appreciated it, I guess. I definitely appreciate it more now that I’m friends with Emma, because I really do love the art work she produces. It’s just - never really been a skill of mine.”

    Shiro purses his lips, nodding as the two of you make your way over to one of the smaller crowds that had gathered around a painting of a sunset. It seemed so generic to you - a painting of a sunset. That was all it seemed to be, but the crowd that were gawking at it seemed to think otherwise, pointing out the tiniest of details and talking about how each blade of grass in the field painted corresponding with the orange glow of the sunset.

    It made you think of Lance. This was the kind of thing he did. He took every little detail of everything and made a deal out of it, nothing forgotten. You couldn’t watch a movie without Lance coming up with fifty different conspiracy theories in the first ten minutes, because everything had a meaning to it when it came to him. Nothing could ever just be as is.

   You bite down on your lip and turn back to Shiro. He’s gazing at the painting with his head tilted, a small frown playing at his lips. You had barely even realised your arm looped through his still, the feeling of his muscular arms pressed against yours becoming so familiar that it died down after a while into nothingness.

    “Do you mind if I vlog this?”

   Shiro doesn’t even hesitate. His eyes don’t leave the painting and his expression of confusion doesn’t waver as he nods at you - such a casual response to something that most people cringed at.

    You stifle through your bag and pull the camera out of your bag. It’s only small, hidden easily by the palm of your hand if you managed to hold it just right, but you still look back ways before pressing record, and even then you keep the device at a low angle and speak to it in a hushed voice.

    “We arrived at the art show, everyone,” you whisper, making Shiro choke on the laugh he is attempting to hold back. “There’s a - uh - sunset in front of me right now, and I’m trying to figure out what the fourth blade of grass on the second row means.”

   Shiro nudges you gently, covering his mouth with his free hand in an attempt to fight off his bubbling giggles. You smile to yourself, darting your eyes around the room once again before looking back down at the camera.

   “I’m with Takashi, by the way. You guys don’t know him, but he’s a good guy.”

   Shiro smiles, waving numbly at the camera and you can’t help but giggle at how awkward he seems in front of the lens. And yet he makes no attempt to cover it like most people do. He simply smiles down at it, his tongue peaking out between his teeth as he plays along with the game of ‘hidden vlogging’ you had suddenly started up out of nowhere.

    In all honesty, the only reason you turned the camera on was to fight back the thoughts which were threatening to break the surface. You were making it your goal for tonight to be a good night. Lance was in the past. You had had your moment of emotional breakdown with that subject, and you needed to move on. Needed to get a fresh start, and restarting up the business you had left behind in your emotional rollercoaster the past five days was the best way to start.

    And so you and Shiro continue to waver through the museum, finally escaping the confines of the large, marble room and broadening your surroundings by going into the different rooms - the less crowded ones. One thing you and Shiro had in common was your lack of social skills.

     Every painting was vlogged, you still keeping your voice down as you spoke into the camera about the most random of topics. Shiro kept his arm wound through yours, playing along with the game, keeping his own voice down on the rare occassion he actually spoke up.

    You two played a game of Eye Spy before being told off by a curator for holding up the guests who actually wanted to gaze at the art. Shiro had patted the mans chest before you two ended up sprinting away from the scene as if you had just been caught for a crime you had commited.

     You weren’t entirely sure why you were having a good time. The museum was quiet bar the soft murmerings of the on-lookers and the soft sound of music trickling quietly through the overhead speakers. You should have been acting mature, and if you felt any other way, you probably would have done so. But you felt numb. You had felt numb, meaning the idea of getting told off wasn’t that big of a deal to you at this moment.

     By the time 7:00pm struck, you and Shiro were laughing as you stumbled out of yet another overcrowded room and into the hallways which conjoined said rooms. Shiro had looped his arm around your waist, leaning against you as he caught his breath from the laughing you two had not paused for the past ten minutes. Everything was suddenly funny. Everything was suddenly a distraction, and if there was one thing you learned from living with Lance McClain for three years, it was that distractions had to be humorour or else they weren’t doing their job right.

    “God, we really are gonna get kicked out,” Shiro chuckles, pressing his forehead against your cheek.

    You shake your head stiffly, hiccuping back to reality. “I nearly knocked over the damn sculpture of Julius Caesar.”

   Shiro chokes, immediately being thrown back into a fit of laughter. You watch him as he pulls his head back as he laughs - a move Lance used to do.

    No, Y/N. Not now.

    You search for another distraction, soft giggles escaping your lips as you feel your disguise of happiness slowly melting off of you as the night draws on and the distractions become scarcer and the reminders of Lance become more and more prominent around you.

     “I don’t think the sculpture was of Julias Caesar, Y/N,” Shiro continues. “I think it was your bloke from the underworld - Hade’s? Hates?”

    “Heather. Big Heather from the underworld,” you say. Shiro laughs louder this time, wiping at his eyes.

    “I’ve never remembered you being so hyper before, Y/N,” Shiro says. “See, life isn’t all that bad. I knew you could have a good time.”

    You force a smile on your face, nodding at him slowly because it was better for him to believe that than to think otherwise. The last thing you wanted was for him to look at you and see that you were only keeping up this humourous act for your friends benefits - you had sworn to them that tonight would be a good night. A night to forget about troubles. A night to forget about the past five days. You didn’t travel all the way to LA to mope around and make everybody else upset with your own sadness.

     “We should probably get to the next room,” Shiro says after a moment of calming himself down. “What time does Emma’s exhibit start?”

    “8,” you reply.

    “Plenty of time to look around a bit more. Maybe we can get something to eat at the food court?”

    You nod, but you don’t move. Shiro takes a step forward, clearly expecting for him to follow you, but something catches your eye. You aren’t entirely sure what it is - it was merely a whisp of colour in your peripheral vision, darting past the marble barriers holding up the ceiling, but it was something that peaked your interest more than you could ignore.

   Shiro reaches behind him and tugs at your hand. “Hey. Everything okay?”

    You swallow thickly. “Yeah. Everything’s fine. I just need the rest room, I think. I’ll meet you at the food counter, yeah?”

    Shiro seems unconvinced, and for a moment you’re almost certain he’s going to ask to accompany you to the rest room. But after a moment, he gives you a light smile, nods and walks off.

    Immediately you whirl around, silently cursing yourself for getting trapped inside your own brain again. You assured yourself over and over again that it was normal for somebody to feel curiosity, that it was normal for somebody to be reminded of somebody they missed shortly after losing said person. But you knew, deep down, that you were just being paranoid. You knew that all the things you wanted to say to Lance were whirling around in your brain for a reason, and no amount of distractions and laughter and buddy buddy friendships would get rid of them.

    You march down the marble hallways in the direction of the streak of colour you had seen. Because why not? Because if not now, then when?

    Your heels click against the floor and sound out in echoes as the crowd slowly disappears the longer you walk. Your eyes dart through everyone, but they don’t need to linger for very long. These people were very different from the person you were looking for. These people held their heads high and they walked with such grace with frowns tugging at their lips as they inspected the art work which surrounded them.

    You were looking for the bouncy, bubbly guy with the wide grin and loud voice.

    You take a sharp turn whenever you’re finally on your own. The crowd had completely disappeared, leaving only you to wade through the halls on your own. You weren’t even sure if you were allowed this far into the museum without permission, but you didn’t stop yourself.

    You took the turn and immediately came to a stop. As did everything else in the world, it seemed, because standing before you was exactly who you craved to see, but at the same time wanted to avoid at all costs.

    You finally realise exactly what you had just done - you had just followed this man down these halls even though he had ripped your heart from your chest only days prior. You had trailed after him like a lost puppy, made yourself look more like a joke than the interview he had done did.

    But you can’t move, because the questions and the anger and the confusion are bubbling at your system as you look at him now. Wearing a tight, black blazer, head ducked down, forearm resting on the wall in front of him as he takes deep breaths, back facing you.

    He hasn’t seen you yet. You could easily walk away and leave him, don’t let him know that you had seen him at all, but your feet are rooted to the floor. Perhaps it’s the three years worth of memories that keep you there, looking at him in his very clearly distressed state. Perhaps it was the instinct to help him that you couldn’t exactly get rid of in the space of three days.

    Whatever it was, it was activating now, because even though he had hurt you and even though you were furious with him, you couldn’t help but feel a tiny tinge in your gut at the sight of him now. Leaning his head against his forearm, clearly trying to catch his breath, perhaps willing himself not to cry. What he had to cry over, you were unsure about.

    You take a step forward, your heel echoing off of the floor. Lance immediately stiffens up, his head snapping up before he whirls around.

    His face falls, his shoulders going limp and his hands falling to his sides. He looked pale. He looked sick. His usually vibrant, tanned skin had been dulled to a pale ivory now, and the bags under his eyes were deep, purple rings that made no effort of making themselves subtle.

    He swayed slightly on his feet and you were almost certain he would fall over at any given moment. Whether it be from shock or the sleep deprivation he was very clearly suffering from, you had no idea.

    Neither of you speak for a number of seconds. You simply stare at each other, your hand clutching the material of your dress as if it was the last thing you would possibly hold onto. His eyes beam into yours, him never being one to shy away from eye contact.

    And then he speaks, and the sound of his voice is so excrutiatingly painful that you nearly double over at the sound of it. He doesn’t sound like himself.

    “Y/N.” It’s only your name. A simple word that used to come so naturally between the two of you suddenly sounds like poison, like he’s spitting acid at you instead of speaking.

    His voice cracks. He sounds like he hasn’t used his voice in weeks.

    You swallow thickly and nod. “L-Lance.”

    He purses his lips, his own eyes fluttering closed as you speak. He sways on his feet once again, even stumbling a little as he does so. You step forward, ready to grab him but he raises his hands, stopping you.

    You don’t understand why you stepped forward. You were meant to hate him. You were going to hate him. You had to. You had to stop having such a soft spot for him. You thought you were making progress. You thought you were-

    “What are you doing here?” you finally ask.

    Lance opens his eyes and lazily smiles. “I came here with the ticket Emma gave me. Thought I would - uh - support a friend.”

    “She’s not your friend.”

    Lance shrugs, your words skimming right over his head. “But it seems like somebody else took my space in the little group. Which sucks, to be honest. I thought I was quite unreplaceable.”

    He’s slurring his words. Is he drunk?

    You raise your brow, your gut telling you to move. To turn and leave him stranded here, leave him to deal with his own mess that he caused, but you continue to stare at him.

    You want to say it has nothing to do with emotional attachment, that it’s just morals that are keeping you standing here. He’s clearly in no shape to get himself home, to be on his own. You may be hurting, but you’re a nice enough person to not leave somebody in need behind because of your own reasons.

    At least, that’s what you assure yourself.

    “How much have you drunk since you got here?” you ask. “The bar wasn’t free for guests as far as I know. I hope you left yourself money for the taxi.”

    “Harsh,” Lance mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck. “You know what else is harsh? You flirting with Mr Tall Guy right in front of my face.”

    Your breathing hitches. Anger spirals through you. You regret not walking away. You regret having started this conversation. You regret having followed him at all because you know that this conversation will bring nothing but pain for you that you will have to heal from all over again.

    “I get it, you know,” Lance continues. He sways on his feet, catches himself on the wall. “I shouldn’t have come. I’m a piece of shit. But at least I’m not walking around flaunting my new relationship five days after I broke it off with somebody else. That’s just cold.”

    “Are you being serious right now?” you seethe. “Lance, answer my question. How much did you have to drink?”

    “Not enough, clearly,” Lance grumbles. “I’m still not blacked out. But maybe I did drink enough - I persuaded myself to actually come here. That must have taken plenty of alcohol.”

    You grit your teeth, running your hands through your hair, ignoring the fact that it had taken nearly an hour to do. “I think you should go.”

    “What? No!” he exclaims, and the volume of his voice takes you by surprise. He tries to move, tries to make his way towards you but his feet stumble and he has to crumble against the wall again to stop himself from falling over completely. “Y/N, no. Let me - I didn’t mean it. I know you wouldn’t date Shiro. You two barely know each other, and you wouldn’t do that to me. You wouldn’t - We love each other, right?”

    Your heart aches. It feels like it’s being ripped out of your body through your rib cage, and there’s nothing that can stop it now. You want to reply with a snarky comment, but seeing him go from frustrated to desperate so quickly makes you shudder and no words come out.

   All you can do is watch him as he clambers against the wall, trying to make his way towards you but his feet aren’t doing him any favours and you’re almost certain he will fall if he detaches himself from the grip he has on the wall.

    “Say you do,” Lance continues, his voice taking on the edge of a plea by now. “I know I fucked up. I - I fucked up really badly and I destroyed what we had, but please tell me I meant enough to you that you haven’t thrown me away in the space of - how many days has it been? Five?”

    You shake your head, biting your lip to fight back tears. Not today, Y/N. You promised.

    “I just need you to get yourself home, Lance,” you choke out. “Or else you’ll end up getting kicked out and arrested for public intoxication.”

    “You take me home,” Lance says. “I haven’t - I got an Uber here, but we can - we can walk. I don’t know where my hotel is, but-”

    “I’m not leaving with you,” you say and you feel yourself physically break at the sight of his face falling. His swollen cheeks have turned red and bright, his nose rosy and his soft brown eyes flooding with unshed tears that you persuade yourself only the alcohol can induce upon him.

    He’s too drunk to know what he’s saying. He won’t remember any of this in the morning.

     “But why? We live together,” Lance slurs. “Not right now, obviously, but we still share an apartment, and you still have a home with me, right? Because - Because I don’t have a home if you’re not there with me. You know that, right? Tell me you know that.”

    “Lance, please don’t make me call security to get you out of here. I don’t want this to be bigger than it needs to be.”

    “If you didn’t still like me - love me - you wouldn’t even be here right now. I’m surprised you haven’t pushed me down a flight of stairs yet.”

    “You’ll end up falling down the stairs if you don’t get yourself home,” you hiss. “Now please-”

     “But I miss you,” Lance says, and his voice comes out as a whine, a desperate plea for you to just listen to him. “Keep this between us, but the only real reason I actually showed up to this bore-fest is because I knew you’d be here with the others. I needed to see you.”

    You shake your head again. His words have an impact. They slam into your chest, winding you but he’s drunk, and you have to keep reminding yourself of that fact. You have to keep your head out of the gutter and keep yourself strong, because he means nothing he is saying and he will remember nothing at the end of the night.

     “Please, Lance,” you say, voice barely above a whisper. “Just get yourself home safely, alright? There’s - There’s nothing more for us. Nothing we can make out of what we had. Not now. The best thing for both of us to do is to just forget about one another.”

    Lance gurgles, slumping forward. “You don’t mean that.”

    You turn on your heel, using up all of your strength and everything in you to just get away from here. Leave on a decent note. You don’t need to yell at a drunken man - you don’t even need to associate yourself with him any further. Just go. Leave him.

     “Y/N, don’t walk away. What are you doing?” Lance cries and you flinch at the volume of his voice but continue to walk. “Y/N L/N, get back here! Please! I miss you! I - I love you, for crying out loud! Y/N, are you listening? Can you even hear me? Y/N!”

    He’s too drunk to run after you, and you’re too numb to turn back and look at him.

    You reach up to your cheeks, expecting to wipe away tears, but all you feel is the dry foundation on your face.

    You chuckle light heartedly, wrapping a loose arm around Emma’s shoulders as the two of you finally escape into the confines of the night.

    The only light that illuminates the bright smile shining off of Emma’s face right now is the street lights that shine down on her like the spot light she deserves.

    “You absolutely killed it!” Shiro cheers, wheeling Samuel, who had fallen asleep, down the disabled ramp of the museum. “God, they were all absolutely in love with you, Emma!”

    Emma smiles brightly, wiping at her tired eyes. “It was fun. Easier than I thought.”

    “You always had a way with words when it came to your art work,” you say, patting her arm and giving her a soft smile. You were proud of her. She had done her first night as an art show host and had absolutely blown everybody away with the art work she showed off. She had introduced a few world-famous paintings, but the paintings which stole the show were definitely her originals, which people pushed to get good views of.

     Even after the events of the night, you found yourself feeling genuinely proud of her.

     The side walk is crowded with people emerging from the art show, getting ready to go home after a long night of enjoying themselves, drinking fancy champagne and examining art. You smile at the odd person, arm still wrapped around Emma’s shoulders-

    Until Shiro’s own arm winds around your waist, taking you by mild surprise. You hadn’t realised you were standing still on the sidewalk until you were being pulled out of Emma’s grip. Emma looked at you for a moment, smirked before she waded off to be next to Samuel who was slowly waking himself up due to the sudden burst of noise that the outdoors brought upon him.

    “Did you enjoy yourself tonight?” Shiro asks once Emma is leaning safely against the wall of the museum, shooting glances up at you and Shiro before she is swarmed by a group of boys who want to ask her about her art work.

    You raise a brow, pointing your eyes down at the hand he has wound around your waist. “I had a pretty decent time. What about you?”

    “I loved it,” he replied. You can’t help but notice the slight gravel to his voice, a tinge to his tone that is either the work of lust, too much alcohol, or exhaustion. “I just wanted to thank you for being a good date.”

    You splutter, eyes popping open. “Date?”

    Shiro shrugs loosely. “I mean, the term is used loosely, of course. We’re just friends, but you kept me company in there. I don’t know how much of Samuel’s blabbering I can take, and Emma was far too busy with the art to actually talk to me. You made an effort.”

    You blink hastily. “Right. Well, it was my pleasure, I guess.”

    He nods. “What about that vlog you filmed? When will that be up?”

    “Some time tomorrow, I’m hoping! I’m kind of filled with nervous energy at the moment, so I don’t see myself sleeping much.” Also known as, I have no idea if Lance got home safely and I hate myself for worrying so much but I can’t help it.

    “Well, I’m excited to make my Y/N L/N Vlogs debut,” Shiro jokes, jostling your arm slightly. You rock against him, still taken slightly off guard by the way he loosely used the term ‘date’ as if it meant nothing.

     Maybe it did mean nothing. Maybe you were just overthinking.

    It’s Samuel’s voice, groggy and tired, that snaps you out of your daze. “Oh for the love of all that is holy, what is he doing here?”

    Your eyes snap up, following Samuel’s gaze across the busy LA street you’re standing at. Almost immediately your stomach does knots, a sick feeling rising in your stomach as you see him - he had listened to you. He had left the museum, but he certainly hadn’t headed home.

    He was stumbling around the corner, singing a song that you two used to sing together all the time as you cooked dinner - a Spanish song which you never understood the lyrics to, but you had heard it enough to know every single word.

    “My God, he’s hammered,” Shiro breathes.

    Lance stumbles around the corner, swinging his arms above his head before his eyes meet yours. You barely register it for a moment, the glare off of the street lamps making him seem a little more sober than he must have been. But one thing was for sure - as soon as his eyes met yours, his entire demeanour changed and suddenly, he looked angry.

    You couldn’t be too sure, of course. It was very rare you actually saw Lance angry, but judging by the scowl which suddenly scattered his feautres and the way his gaze clamped down on Shiro’s hand which was wound around your waist, he was pissed.

    You’re quick to step out of Shiro’s gaze, panic sweeping you. The streets were busy. Cars were zooming past at an unforgiving speed, and Lance was drunk and angry and on the other side of the road.

    Nobody else sees it coming. Nobody but you. You step forward, wanting nothing more than to rush across the road and push him back from the curb, but nobody stops. No cars stop. Some drivers are even driving past on their cell phones at a speed which could knock down the side of a building.

     But Lance doesn’t register that, and you see his eyes flicker the moment he yells out, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” to Shiro. Shiro’s eyes widen as you rush forward, shaking your hands in front of your body.

    “Lance, don’t! Stay right there! Don’t even think of moving or-”

    But your words don’t mean anything. Not right now. Not when Lance is blinded in a mad hot rage, consumed and fuelled by alcohol. You watch on in horror, a cry escaping your mouth as Lance steps off the curb, ready to fly head on at Shiro -

    He doesn’t get that far. Not before a car has slammed into his side, knocking him to the left, blood spurting out of his nose before he’s even hit the concrete. You hear Emma yelling out for help, and you’re certain you hear yourself wailing but everything sounds dull, as if it’s being sounded through water.

    Lance lands on the road with a thump, completely unconscious by the time he even hits the tarmac.

[rowdywarrior85]

STRANGER THINGS PRESENTS: WHEELERS VS HARGROVES (PART 1)

STRANGER THINGS PRESENTS: WHEELERS VS HARGROVES

[DISCLAIMER: This story in purely fan-fiction, meaning I own no rights to the show STRANGER THINGS, its episodes or characters. Basically, this story is my interpretation of the show, its episodes or characters. Forewarning, there will be descriptions of violence (sometimes graphic), adult content and language; if you have kids under 17 reading this story, VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED. Either way, hope you enjoy it. This story takes place between Season 3-Episode 4: THE SAUNA TEST.]

(We open to a fogged-up mirror, a washcloth is wiped across to clear a reflection, and the man in the mirror is none other than Hawkins’ residential bad boy, Billy Hargrove, who just came out of the shower. NO ONE LIKE YOU by Scorpions drops in the background and it drops hard. Billy spends the intro guitar solo in the bathroom; blowing his nose, blow-drying his hair, cleaning out his ears, brushing his teeth and takes a quick shave. Then, he wraps a towel around his waist and strolls in his room. As he lights up a cigarette, the first verse starts up. He slips on a pair of boxers under his towel, drops a pair of denim jeans on his bed, followed by a navy short-sleeved dress-shirt. Satisfied with his choice of wardrobe, the towel flies off, then by the second verse, he slips on a pair of socks and a white tank top, which is odd since Billy doesn’t wear anything under his dress-shirts. Billy proceeds to don his jeans and dress-shirt, followed by his boots. As the chorus kicks in, he sprays his hair for a little extra volume. Then slaps cologne on his wrists, along his neckline and of course, below the belt. He grabs a black leather jacket, slips it on and takes one last look in the mirror, giving himself a confident look.)

BILLY: (whispers) Look out, Karen. Here comes trouble.

(As he tosses a smooch and a wink at himself, he opens the door to make his “date” with Karen Wheeler, Mike and Nancy’s mom. But, he’s met by his stepmother, Susan Mayfield-Hargrove, about to knock on his door. Third verse kick in.)

BILLY: (sigh) Susan.

SUSAN: I was gonna ask you what you wanted for dinner, but it looks like you got plans. Big date tonight?

BILLY: (clicks tongue with a wink) Bingo.

SUSAN: Um, is that a tank top under your shirt? This is a first.

(Billy passes by Susan as he makes for the front, hoping to God he isn’t stopped by his asshole father, Neil Hargrove.)

BILLY: Yeah, well, this one is special.

NEIL: Gee, I wonder how special.

(Billy is stopped by Neil’s stern voice. Billy’s smile slowly drops to a tense, tight lip as he looks to his left to see his father leaning on the frame that leads to the kitchen, drinking a can of beer with an equally stern look on his face.)

BILLY: More than you can ever understand, Dad.

NEIL: Oh, really? What’s this “special” date’s name?

(Neil asked that question to Billy with the intention that he knows exactly who the “lucky lady” is. Billy inhales deep, exhales as he looks to a concerned Susan, who’s afraid of another spat between Father and son. Billy turns back to his father.)

BILLY: Don’t wait up for me.

(Neil’s eyebrow starts to rise in agitation as Billy continues for the door.)

NEIL: HEY!

(Billy stops at the door.)

SUSAN: Neil, don’t.

NEIL: No, I wanna know the name of his “special” date, or else he can just forget about going altogether. WELL, WHO THE FUCK IS SHE, BILLY?!

(Billy turns to his dad with a hint of anger.)

BILLY: Why the fuck do you care, huh?

(Both Neil’s eyebrows are raised high at Billy’s snap by the second chorus.)

She’s just another whore in Hawkins to you, anyway.

(Billy opens door.)

RIGHT, NEIL!?!

(Billy slams the door shut, which by now infuriates Neil.)

NEIL: Son of a BITCH!!!

(Neil storms out after his “ungrateful” son. Susan tries to stop him, but to no avail.

SUSAN: Neil, just let it go. NEIL!!

(Billy storms into his blue Camaro, with Neil in hot pursuit.)

NEIL: BILLY! YOU GET THE FUCK OUT OF THAT CAR!!

(Billy starts the engine, but Neil jumps in front of the car.)

YOU SHUT THAT OFF AND GET THE FUCK OUT OF THERE RIGHT NOW, BILLY HARGROVE, OR YOU’RE FUCKING GROUNDED! DO YOU FUCKING HEAR ME!?!

(As the first half of the main guitar solo starts, Billy stares at his dad, then turns to a scared Susan, then turns right back to Neil.)

BILLY, I’D THINK THIS THROUGH, IF I WERE YOU!

(Billy went to a timid look to a stern, angry look as he revs the engine hard on the second half of the guitar solo.)

Oh, don’t you even think about it, you little shit.

SUSAN: Neil, please get out of the road!

(Neil keeps his eyes fixed on Billy, while he points a finger at Susan.)

NEIL: Relax, Susan, he’s bluffing. He’s not gonna do shit. Are ya, you son of a…

(Neil leans forward.)

…whore.

(By the end of the solo, Billy flares his nostrils in a rage, drops into DRIVE, and peels out, spooking Neil out of the way.)

JESUS!!!

(Billy’s Camaro zooms out of Cherry Road, with Neil throwing his beer down the street at Billy’s direction, screaming with rage.)

THAT’S IT!!!! YOU’RE GROUNDED!!! DO YOU HEAR ME, YOU FUCK!!!! YOU’RE GROUNDED FOR THE REST OF YOUR NATURAL FUCKING LIFE!!!!

(Susan runs after him, trying to quiet him down.)

SUSAN: Jesus, Neil. You’ll wake up the whole damn neighborhood. What if they call the police?

NEIL: The police, Susan, Jesus. Who in this neighborhood, let alone this whole fucking town has the balls to call the police on me? Huh?

(Neil storms back into the house, pissed to infinity. All the while, Susan becomes more frightened what’s about to come.)

Pick up my fucking beer off the street while you’re out there.

(PRESENT DAY. Mike, Lucas, Will, El and Max stroll up in their bikes to the Hawkins Community Pool staking out for Billy. All of them, especially Max fear that he may be chosen by the reawakened Mind Flayer.)

MIKE: OK, so where is he?

MAX: He’s usually in by noon.

LUCAS: Well, it’s 5 minutes to noon. He should be up and running for work soon.

MAX: Oh, shit.

WILL: What, do you see him?

MAX: No, somebody much worse than Billy.

(They see a tan Ford pickup truck roaring into the pool parking lot. Max is horrified, for she knows exactly who it is.)

It’s my fucking step-dad, Neil.

LUCAS: Oh, that’s just perfect.

EL: Is it… bad?

(Max looks to El with concern.)

LUCAS: Let’s put it to you this way, El. You know what a mouth-breather is, right?

(El nods in affirmation.)

Well, from what Max told us, he’s a Class A mouth-breather. Believe me, I know, I’ve seen it first hand. Not to mention, he’s also a racist and a homophobe straight outta Vietnam.

MIKE: Long story, El, he’s a sadistic piece of shit.

EL: Piece of shit?

WILL: He makes MY dad look like a cream puff. I mean, coming from a divorced background myself, don’t get me wrong, I can’t help but feel sorry for him.

(The Party look awkwardly at Will.)

Billy, I mean. I’ve literally been where he is, if the Mind Flayer’s turned him, I mean.

(The Party look back to the pickup.)

MAX: (heavy sigh) I’m more concerned what Neil’s gonna do.

(Max looks through the binoculars, and she sees that he’s drinking from a flask, which does not bode well for Max.)

And worse, looks like he’s drinking. Guess it’s bad between him and Billy.

(We switch to inside the pickup, where Neil is formulating his plan, while downing Bourbon from his flask. Susan looks on to Neil, scared out of her mind.)

SUSAN: Neil, what exactly are we doing at the pool? I didn’t even bring my swimsuit.

NEIL: Isn’t it obvious, Susan? Billy’s behavior of late is fucking disturbing, more than most. His car isn’t in front of the house, where it’s supposed to be.

SUSAN: He’s stayed out late before.

NEIL: (takes a swig) Not like this.

(Susan looks at Neil with fear and concern.)

SUSAN: Hitting that kinda hard lately, have you?

NEIL: Don’t you worry about me, alright? It’s Billy that should be worried right now. Have you also noticed that Wheeler bitch isn’t with the rest of the Mom Squad?

SUSAN: So?

(Neil takes another swig, then gives an obvious look to Susan.)

(Scoffs) Oh my God. You’re not suggesting that Billy and Mrs. Wheeler were… are…

NEIL: It can’t be anymore obvious than that.

SUSAN: Neil, that’s ridiculous. There’s no proof of that.

NEIL: Please, I’ve been by the pool from time to time. The way he looks at her, the way SHE looks at him. They even talk to each other.

SUSAN: So they talk…

NEIL: FOR NEARLY 5 MINUTES, maybe more. Well this is gone far enough, I’m ending this right now.

(Neil prepares to exit the truck.)

SUSAN: Let’s go.

NEIL: No, you stay in the truck until I get back.

(Neil opens his truck door.)

SUSAN: Neil, I’m not letting you go out there alone, so you can make a scene.

NEIL: STAY IN THE TRUCK, SUSAN. I shouldn’t take long.

(Neil slams his truck door hard, takes another swig then make his way into the pool, while Susan looks on in fear. As he makes his way pass the entrance, the receptionist spots him sporting his flask in his back pocket and tries to take action.)

RECEPTIONIST: Excuse me, sir. You need to sign in if you want to enter the pool.

(Receptionist goes after him, then proceeds to put his right hand on Neil’s left shoulder.)

And another thing, there are no alcoholic containers of any kind allowed in the…

(Neil turns to the receptionist, swats his hand off his shoulder with the left hand, then lands a right cross decking him, knocking him to the ground with a bloody nose. Susan looks on with timidity.)

SUSAN: Ah, shit.

(Even the Mom Squad see this atrocity and fear the worst. While Susan gets out of the truck to tend to the busted-up receptionist, Neil spots the Mom Squad and saunders over with the intent of getting some answers.)

LIZ (BRUNETTE): Oh shit, Hargrove Rex is headin’ right for us.

MOM #2(BLONDIE): That’s never good. You don’t think he’s here about Billy, is he?

JILL(HEAVY): What are we gonna do?

LIZ: (picks up a COSMOPOLITAN magazine) Just act natural, ladies. It’s probably nothing.

JILL: Seriously?

LIZ: (through her teeth) Just… act… natural.

(Neil then approaches the Mom Squad.)

NEIL: Ladies.

BLONDIE: If you’re looking for your son, sir, he’s still in the bathroom, prepping for work.

NEIL: Billy’s the least of my worries right now. I couldn’t help but noticed one of your “crew” is MIA. Wheeler, is it? So, um, any of you… ladies… know where she is?

LIZ: Spa.

BLONDIE: Shopping.

JILL: Movie.

(Neil leans in between Blondie and Liz.)

NEIL: Well, which… one… is it?

(Jill starts hyperventilating, Neil turns to Jill, Liz prompting Jill not to say shit. Neil raises an eyebrow.)

JILL: (rapidly) LOOK, KAREN’S NOT HERE, OK! SHE CALLED US, SAYING SHE WASN’T FEELING LIKE A POOL DAY TODAY. SO SHE DECIDED TO SAY HOME!! (deep inhale and exhale)

NEIL: (Eyes on Jill) Thank you, ladies. Enjoy your day.

(Neil makes for the men’s room.)

LIZ: You just can’t keep your mouth shut for 5 minutes, you weak-ass fuck.

JILL: I’m sorry, girls. But that guy just scares the shit out of me.

BLONDIE: Honey, that man scares the shit out of pretty much the whole town.

LIZ: God save that boy.

(In the men’s room, a bench has a beach towel, a white long-sleeved shirt, and a ball cap with aviator sunglasses and a Zippo lighter. Billy is finishing applying SPF 50 on his body on account of the Mind Flayer inhabiting him. He then wraps a beach towel, and puts on a white long-sleeved shirt, then puts on his flip-flops. He grabs the bottle of SPF 50, and puts it in his locker. Suddenly, Neil slams the locker door shut, Billy doesn’t even flinch.)

NEIL: We need to talk.

(Billy doesn’t even acknowledge him, he makes his way to the sinks to wash his hands.)

Hey! Don’t you fuckin’ walk away from me, son.

(Billy looks to the mirror whilst washing his hands, he sees his father glaring at him, continuing to berate his son.)

Your behavior of late has been unacceptable. First, you try to run me down, which is surprising coming from you, and your car isn’t in front of the house. You either abandoned it or fucked it up. And another thing, this “special date” of yours couple nights ago, I think I know she is. Do you think for one second, that I’m stupid. I’ve been by the pool a couple times, I see the way you look at that Wheeler whore, and the way she looks at you. So what, all the teenage pussy is not enough for you, so you graduate to mommy pussy, is that it?

(Neil closes in to Billy’s right ear. Neil’s voice starts to distort.)

Or maybe, just maybe, you like her simply because she reminds of a certain somebody you lost as a child. Somebody that was TOO CHICKENSHIT TO COME AND RESCUE YOUR FAGGOT ASS…

(Neil lays his left hand on his right shoulder. Billy’s eyes widen, then grabs his hand, torques his arm, grabs his head and slams his head on the edge of the sink, breaking the sink in the process. Billy looks solemnly down to Neil on the floor, disoriented, head bleeding. Neil tries to crawl away, not believing what’s happening. Billy then grabs Neil’s left arm and steps on his head, preparing to kill him.)

(groaning) Billy, don’t do this. I’m your father, for fuck’s sakes!

(Billy looks at his busted up father with this blank, emotionless face.)

BILLY!!!!

(Billy viciously pulls on the arm while his foot is on the head, breaking Neil’s neck. Snap to black.)

(Echoing) Billy?

(Snap back to reality. Billy continues to stare at the mirror, while Neil tries to speak to him.)

Billy, you gonna fuckin’ answer me or not?

(Billy turns away from his father to grab his cap with his frames and lighter, then proceeds to make for the exit to get to work AKA keep up appearances. But Neil isn’t having it, he follows him with haste.)

Son of a bitch. Billy Hargrove, you fuckin’ answer me RIGHT NOW, OR…

(Billy suddenly turns toward him.)

BILLY: (roars) OR WHAT!?!

(Neil stops in surprise. Billy walks towards him with wide, crazy eyes.)

(low voice) What are gonna do, Neil?

(Billy and Neil are now face to face, toe to toe.)

What… are you going…. to do? What?

HEATHER: Is there a problem, gentlemen?

(Neil looks around Billy, and sees Heather in the same get-up with two large cherry Slurpees. Billy’s eyes go normal but still on Neil.)

BILLY: Cool as ice, Heather. My dad here was just leaving. Right, Neil?

NEIL: (quiet scoff) You’re wasting my time, anyway.

(Neil shoulder checks Billy before leaving, letting him know that it’s not over, like Billy cares at this point. Neil gives a slight glare at Heather as he walks out the door. Heather walks up to Billy, handing him his Slurpee.)

HEATHER: Shall we add him to the collective?

BILLY: No, we have enough. The end will come for him.

(Billy takes a sip from his Slurpee. We get a closeup on his “flayed” eyes.)

The end will come for them all.

(Neil storms out of the bathroom, and makes his way to the pool’s exit. At the receptionists’ office, Susan is tending to the receptionists’ broken nose.)

NEIL: Susan, let’s go. NOW!!!

RECEPTIONIST: (groaning) For the record, your husband’s a dick.

SUSAN: I know, I’m so sorry.

(Neil and Susan get into the truck, then proceed to exit the parking lot aggressively.)

LIZ: They’re leaving.

JILL: Not what?

BLONDIE: We need to warn Karen about what’s about to go down, all because you couldn’t shut up.

JILL: I said I was sorry. Jesus.

LIZ: There’s a phone in the office. Everybody follow me, and walk fast.

(Outside the pool, the Party observe on what’s going on.)

LUCAS: What the hell’s the Mom Squad doin’?

MIKE: I don’t know. When it comes to Moms, you never know.

MAX: Guys, shut up. Target in sight.

(The Party see Billy exiting the bathroom and mounting his post. Meanwhile, Neil driving like a bat out of Hell for the Wheeler residence.)

SUSAN: So, what happened?

NEIL: You mean, “what didn’t happened”? Time to do what I should’ve done at the beginning. End the problem at the source.

SUSAN: You’re not thinking of heading to the Wheelers?

NEIL: Goddamn right.

(Susan is now way frightened on what’s going to happen.)

SUSAN: Look, Neil. I know you’re going to object to this, but… maybe I should “take point” this time.

NEIL: (takes another swig out of his flask) Out of the question.

SUSAN: Look, Neil. You have enough booze in your system, just let me handle this. Cuz if you go in there, you’ll go tearing the place apart just to get your answers, causing a massive commotion, at that point somebody’s gonna call the cops. 10 minutes, that’s all I need, 10 minutes.

NEIL: 5. 5 minutes. After that…

(turns to Susan)

I do it my way.

(Meanwhile at the Wheeler residence on Maple Street, Nancy Wheeler and her mom, Karen just finished their heart-to-heart, wiping away their tears. But somehow, Nancy wasn’t quite finished.)

NANCY: Mom, if I ask you something, would you tell me the truth?

KAREN: (walks to the sink) Of course, honey.

NANCY: I came home from the first day of work a few nights ago, and I found your ring in the bathroom.

(Karen becomes alert.)

Something you want to talk to me about? Just us girls.

KAREN: Well, maybe I took it off to wash my hands, and probably forgot to put it back on.

NANCY: Mom, for as long as I can remember, you NEVER took your ring off.

KAREN: (turns to Nancy) Nancy, I don’t know your implying here…

NANCY: Mom, you gave me that talk for a reason, even put in an “I” in there like your just been through something. Plus, you wear makeup to the pool, which is odd, unless you…

(Just then, it dawned on Nancy, and turned to her mom.)

Oh, Mom. Don’t tell me you’ve been hitting on that California douchebag, Billy.

KAREN: Of course not.

(Nancy leers at her mom like she isn’t being honest.)

It’s been actually both ways, if I’m being honest.

NANCY: Oh, my God.

KAREN: What can I say, Nancy? He’s beautiful.

NANCY: OH, MY GOD.

KAREN: Look, Nancy, try to understand. Ever since he walked to my door looking for his step-sister last year…

(deep sigh)

…he looked like, something out of a dream, or right out of a romance novel. I thought to myself, “THANK GOD”.

NANCY: Yeah. Mike once told me he damn near beat Steve half to death because of Max “last year”.

KAREN: Oh, boys will be boys. You should know that by now.

(Nancy scoffs)

Did you know that he asked me out on a date a couple days ago.

NANCY: SHUT… UP!

KAREN: I know, right? Just caught me by surprise, and to be honest, I actually wanted him to.

NANCY: Well, you didn’t agree to it, did you?

(Before Karen could answer, the patriarch of the Wheeler family, Ted, strolls on in with younger daughter, Holly.)

TED: Hi, honey. Holly and I had an interesting time at the mall, the food court has this…

(Ted notices Nancy is home early.)

Oh, Nancy. You’re home early. Did I miss anything?

KAREN: Girl talk.

NANCY: I just got fired.

TED: Oh… well, just got to live and learn, I suppose.

(Both ladies give Ted a livid look.)

Come on, Holly. Let’s see what’s on TV.

(Karen and Nancy turn their attention back to each other.)

KAREN: Now do you see what I have to put up with, every single day?

(Unbeknownst to the ladies, Ted is quietly eavesdropping, while Holly is mesmerized by MY LITTLE PONY on the TV.)

You have no idea what it’s like, being married to same, boring person for the past 20 years. To not feel appreciated, to be stuck in a continuous rut.

(As Karen continued her lament, Nancy was reminded of the event of her life that occurred 2 years ago when she lost her best friend, Barbara Holland, all because she wanted to prove that she could make it with Steve Harrington.)

When Billy asked me out, I thought to myself that this is my chance. This one chance to be the woman I wanted to be, if only for one night. I wanted to scream “Yes, Billy. Take me, I’m yours”. But, just when I was about to walk out my door that night, I noticed Ted asleep on the recliner with Holly. And it just hits me,…

(voice breaking) I just couldn’t do it. Not without breaking your father’s heart, or Holly’s, or Mike’s, or yours.

(Just then, the doorbell rings.)

TED: I’ll get it.

KAREN: (clears throat) Thanks.

NANCY: Mom, I get it. You’re unhappy with your marriage, but still it’s no excuse to throw it all away for Billy, of all people.

KAREN: You’re telling me you wouldn’t do the same thing?

NANCY: I already did. Once. Back when I was with Steve.

(Karen instantly knew what Nancy meant.)

KAREN: Barb?

(Nancy nods, trying to hold back the tears of that fateful night.)

NANCY: (sniffs, voice breaking) To this day, I keep thinking to myself. If I wasn’t trying to be something I’m knew I wasn’t, if I had just left that party with her, she’d still be here, you know. I miss her so much, even now.

KAREN: Still, would you ever get with Billy if you had the chance?

NANCY: If I didn’t have my morals and/or Jonathan…

(Karen is waiting in anticipation.)

…probably, yeah. If you had, Dad would be blown away from his recliner, not to mention Mike would have a cow. But, I’m glad you didn’t go through with that date. Besides, I hear his dad’s a complete and utter psychopath.

SUSAN: You’re not wrong there.

(Karen and Nancy turn to the hallway to find Ted along with Susan.)