#i cannot describe to any if you how much the live shows knock the studio record out of the park

[sarek]

I saw LS Dunes live just (1) time and Anthony Greens Kate Bush level onstage frolicking and absolutely feral energy have bewitched me entirely

[phantom-curve]

find the strength, find the melody pt. 6

okay so I wasn’t originally going to include the entire scene in Lessa’s office but, once again, my words ran away from me. now you get this beast of a chapter. it’s the longest one yet, coming in at a whopping 4,383 words so think of it as an apology for letting my other fic take over for a sec and also taking like a million years to post this.

I started working on Luke’s POV because I am nothing if not a fan of jumping the gun, and his writing style is so different and living in his head is such an adorable journey of Julie Molina obsession. really excited for you to see some of the stuff that’s been going on for our sweet lil soft boy. also, if you notice the dialogue style changing a little bit in this/future chapters it’s so I can have the same scenes without a ton of repeated dialogue in Luke’s POV.

writer’s block anecdote of the day: I keep flipping Luke and Alex’s name in Luke’s POV because one of the main OCs in my novel is actually named Alex and has been since I started working on this novel a literal decade ago. oh and there is also an OC named Owen. someday I’ll learn to give my characters unique names, but not today!

taglist: @blue-hat-girl, @lwhoscribbles, @bluefyoto94, @5sosmukefan, @moonlightxnder, @leahthewonder​, @kat-maybe-not​, @lukewearingbeanies, @imastrugglingartist​​

Once they were close enough to risk running into other students, Julie dropped Luke’s hand. She made a point of ignoring the frown he gave her, using her now free hand to reach up and adjust her hat. Only, her hat wasn’t there. Her hands landed on loose, untamed curls instead and she immediately turned to Luke with a small amount of panic already building in her chest. He gave her a funny look, and then seemed to notice her hair and somehow understood completely. His hands reached up to lower hers. He let his grasp linger for just a moment before letting go, leaving her hands to dangle limply at her sides. Only his gaze held her in place.

“I never really liked that hat. Your hair is too pretty to cover up like that.”

He said it like a fact. The sky is blue, the sun is hot, your hair is too pretty to cover up. Julie felt a swell of emotions rise again, threatening to overwhelm her. But then he was off towards the front of the school throwing a very casual, “You coming?” over his shoulder at her. She raced to catch up, emotions beaten back for the time being.

They joined the surge of bodies filtering through the front doors. Alex and Reggie stood off to the side inside the entryway of the school. It was impossible to miss the tall blonde in his light pink sweatshirt standing next to the shorter boy in leather. Luke didn’t hesitate to weave his way over to them, but Julie hung back. She wasn’t really sure what was going on between them, wasn’t sure if she felt comfortable enough to just tag along behind him. She caught sight of Flynn’s hot pink beanie bouncing in the distance and let out a sigh of relief. She could separate from Luke here, talk to Flynn, get some perspective on this whole situation.

Luke glanced back at her then. She saw the question in his eyes, felt her heart race when he gave a little side nod like he was inviting her to join him. She swallowed and gave him a half-hearted smile before jerking her thumb over her shoulder in Flynn’s direction. He frowned, but she was already turning away. She pretended she didn’t hear him call her name, slipping into the crowd of students, letting it swallow her up so she could disappear from his sight. Eyes locked on Flynn’s back she moved farther away from the Sunset Curve boys. Flynn only jumped a little when Julie snuck up behind her.

“Jesus, Jules! You scared the shit out of me!”

Her best friend’s familiar voice washed over her like a comforting blanket. All at once, Julie was word vomiting the entire night.

“Flynn, oh my God. He had Mom’s song and he saved it for like, a whole year, and then he gave it to me yesterday, and holy shit I forgot how beautiful it is. And you’re not gonna believe this but I played, like I actually played the piano and sang, and it was like homecoming, it was like the biggest rush, like my mom was right there in the studio with me. And then, oh my god, now you’re really not gonna believe this, but oh my god, then Luke freaking Patterson showed up out of nowhere and he uh might have stayed on the pull-out couch, and then he uhm he made me breakfast this morning? And we walked here together?? He was like...doing this thing where his eyes were going all starry and soft and he was saying really sweet things and it was...a lot and I really don’t know what’s going on with that but uhm I’m kinda freaking out. Also, hey good morning, how are you?”

If Flynn’s mouth opened any wider Julie thought she might unhinge her jaw. In a sea of bustling students, it felt like they were in a bubble all their own. She anxiously fiddled with the bracelets on her wrists as she watched the gears turn behind her best friend’s eyes. After a full two minutes of silence, Flynn’s hand flew out to latch onto Julie’s bicep. Without a word she dragged her down the hallway and into an empty practice room. Flynn released her grip, Julie rubbing at her arm, jeez Flynn was strong!, while the other girl closed the door and flipped on the light that indicated the room was in use. She whirled around, her eyes drilling into Julie’s.

“You’re gonna start at the beginning of that whole mess of truth bombs and spill every last detail about exactly what happened with Luke ‘freaking’ Patterson. Right now. Starting with the bit about your mom’s song.”

Julie took a deep breath and slowly walked Flynn through the events of the last few days, from the moment she had run into Luke after her meeting with Ms. Harrison to when she ran away from him this morning as he was calling her name. Distantly, she was aware of the bell ringing, but it was only homeroom anyway. What did that matter when she was having an existential crisis? Flynn’s mouth only hung open a little bit by the time she was finished telling the story again. Julie felt her shoulders slump. What an emotional rollercoaster. Flynn was quiet for a long moment. Then, she smirked at Julie with a knowing look in her eyes.

“Hmph. Looks like my girl’s got a crush, and his name is Luke. I cannot believe you’ve been holding out on me like this!”

She was teasing, her tone light with a little bit of a mocking sing-song quality to it. But Julie could hear the undercurrent of worry running through her words. She had become quite adept at detecting that particular vocal quality in the last year. She sighed.

“Whatever. Can we focus on the more important revelation that I played the piano and sang again?”

Flynn, best friend that she was, gracefully allowed the subject change.

“Jules, that’s amazing! I’m so happy for you! How did you feel? Alive again?”

Julie laughed, the sound feeling easy and light as it left her chest.

“Yeah, actually, that’s exactly how I felt. It was...honestly, it felt magical. It really did feel like my mom was there with me. There was this sense of peace that just felt...”

She shivered, remembering the sensation of ghostly arms around her shoulders.

“I can’t really describe it. But it was like something just clicked, and I realized that the best way to remember my mom and honor her is through music. The music we made together and the music I’ll make in the future. Rose Molina’s musical legacy will live on in me, and that feels pretty special.”

She couldn’t keep the smile from her face or the happiness from her voice. Peace really had been found out in that studio last night. Julie felt more ready than ever to move out of the darkness she’d kept wrapped around her like a shield for the last year.

“That’s beautiful.”

Flynn pulled Julie into her arms, the two girls sharing a long hug. The bell rang, signaling the end of homeroom, before either girl could say anything more. They left the practice room together, splitting up when they reached their respective classroom doors. Julie swallowed thickly as she settled herself in the back of her Calc class. This was one of the classes she shared with Luke, although she had conveniently forgotten that fact until the moment she sat down at her desk. He appeared in the doorway within seconds, giving her no chance to properly prepare herself. His eyes lit up when he saw her, and he started to make a beeline for the desk next to hers before their teacher caught him.

“Patterson! You know the deal.”

Not even Luke’s best pout could win over Ms. May. She simply raised a brow and pointed at the seat he had been assigned at the front of the classroom. Julie let out a small sigh of relief. It was hard not to smile at Luke’s dramatics as he slumped over and slowly shuffled his way to his desk. He dropped into his seat with a loud huff, glancing over his shoulder at Julie with forlorn expression. She rolled her eyes, smothering her smirk behind her hand. The bell rang again, and he turned his attention to the front of the room as Ms. May called the class to order.

He didn’t stop sneaking looks back at her the entire class period though. It made her want to squirm in her seat every time she dared peek at him and caught him watching her in return. He would always give her one of those soft, sweet smiles and then turn back to his work. It was unsettling, especially when she thought of how he hadn’t paid much attention to her in this particular class before today. Although, now that she really thought about it, maybe he had. Julie had basically been living in a fog of grief for the last year. The school could have caught on fire and she probably wouldn’t have noticed it until her clothes were burning.

She was almost grateful when one of the front desk aides appeared in the door to their classroom. Kayla made direct eye contact with her before knocking on the door frame to get Ms. May’s attention.

“Julie Molina is needed in the office.”

A tense silence fell over the classroom. Every single student remembered the last time Julie had been called down to the office in the middle of a class. Even Ms. May’s eyes flickered with pity for a moment before she gave Julie a gentle smile and nod. Julie stood slowly, forcing herself to keep her breath even as she gathered her books and papers into her backpack. 22 pairs of eyes watched her slowly make her way to the front of the room. One pair burned hotter than the others. Julie met Luke’s eyes for the smallest fraction of a second. Just long enough to see the concern rise up in them. Then she was out the door, walking the uncomfortably familiar path to the front office.

“It’s Lessa. And I think your dad.”

Kayla’s quiet voice startled her. She looked to her left, surprised to find the other girl keeping pace with her. Julie had thought she would walk ahead or peel off to deliver other messages. Instead, she got a small but genuine smile.

“Look, I know things are weird because of the Carrie thing, but I just didn’t want you to freak out too much. Frankly, I think Lessa’s kinda a bitch to pull you out of class like that. She’s an idiot if she doesn’t remember...well anyway. It’s something school related, not like a family thing.”

Kayla briefly squeezed her bicep, almost like she wished she could give Julie a hug. Then she was off down a separate hallway, waving the stack of messages in her hand at Julie as a goodbye. Julie watched her go for a second, feeling off balance and surprisingly emotional. Kayla was a Dirty Candy girl. In the battle lines that had been drawn between Julie and Carrie, Kayla’s position was as obvious as Flynn’s. For all intents and purposes, she shouldn’t be looking out for Julie, and yet, she was anyway. Julie wondered how many small protective moments she had missed from her classmates in the last year. Maybe she hadn’t been quite as alone as she had always felt. She took a deep breath and finished the walk to the front office, a little more ready to face what was on the other side.

Knowing it was school related and that her dad had been called down sent a shiver of apprehension down her spine for a different reason. It had to be something about the music program. Not for the first time, Julie regretted keeping it from her dad for this long. She was out of time now. At least she could thank the universe for small favors. If it had been her Tía in this meeting, Julie’s life would be over. Her dad was more understanding. They would be able to get through this. Julie forced herself to square her shoulders and enter the office with more confidence than she felt. Her mom’s words echoed in her mind you can do it. It was all the strength she needed.

At least until the door to Principal Lessa’s office was closing behind her, and she was face-to-face with her heartbroken father.

“Julie. Take a seat, please.”

Lessa’s voice lacked its usual bite. She just sounded tired. Julie felt that down to her bones. She slipped into the seat next to her dad without a word.

“I’m going to get right to the point. Two of us,” her eyes narrowed slightly on Julie who shifted in her seat in response, “knew this meeting was coming. The other one of us has now been informed as to why it was called.”

The weight of her father’s stare was crushing her. Julie didn’t have to look to see the disappointment there. It was rolling off of him in tsunami sized waves. Lessa continued talking despite the uncomfortable tension growing in the air.

“Now. We have several options. As you both know, Los Feliz is at its core an arts academy. We ask that our students participate in at least one of the arts programs. Participate being the key word there. Julie, it’s clear that participation in our music department isn’t something you’re able to do right now. While we were able to offer you a grace period, we have other students applying for the position you aren’t using. It’s only fair to allow them the chance to participate if you won’t.”

Julie was not going to cry. Not here in front of Principal Lessa and her dad, trapped on school grounds where everyone would see her when she left. She bit the inside of her cheek as hard as she could, letting Lessa’s soft but firm voice wash over her without absorbing anything she was saying.  She caught bits and pieces: Lessa offering her a spot in the less desirable subset of illustration in the fine arts department with a chance to reapply for the music department the following semester, her dad requesting information about the new program as well as copies of her transcripts in case they decided to move schools, Lessa’s voice softening as she apologized, her dad’s growing even softer as he thanked her for everything the school had done so far. Then the meeting was wrapping up, and her dad was shaking Lessa’s hand, and Julie was focusing on her backpack so she could get the hell out of there. She barely caught the sad smile Lessa gave her as she said, “Good luck, Julie” in that same goodbye tone Ms. Harrison had used on Monday. Julie had never been so desperate for her old hat to hide behind as she was in that moment.

She shuffled along behind her dad. It was obvious the school day was over for Julie. He was quiet as they made their way out of the office and into the empty hallway. Class had been dismissed while they were with Lessa. Julie was thankful there weren’t any other students around to witness her downfall. Her dad almost made it out of the building before rounding on her. Almost.

“I cannot believe you tried to hide this from me! I thought I raised you better than that, mija. You’re lucky your Aunt had a work meeting she couldn’t miss. Why didn’t you come to me?”

It was the overwhelming disappointment in her dad’s tone that did Julie in. She had never been able to stomach letting her parents down. If Ray’s voice was any indication, she may have reached the rock bottom of let downs.

“I’m sorry.”

She was. She truly was. She didn’t know why she had kept it from her dad except that if she had told him then she would have had to admit it was real. She hadn’t wanted to face that reality just yet.

“I just don’t understand, Julie. You still like music, right? Is it the school? We can find a different music program. You don’t have to stay here just because your mom loved it so much.”

Julie opened her mouth to argue that actually that was exactly why she had to stay here, but a different voice cut her off. An annoyingly familiar voice that had her heart racing and her palms sweating.

“Julie!”

She nearly groaned aloud. Never before in her life had Julie wished to disappear as much as she did right now. Just open a hole in the floor and jump right into it. The absolute last thing she needed right now was Lucas freaking Patterson getting in the middle of this dressing down. Hell, she didn’t even want him witnessing it let alone trying to get involved. She clenched her jaw, ignored her dad’s pointedly raised eyebrow, and turned on her heel to meet the teenage boy that suddenly seemed to be haunting her every step.

“Luke. Hi.”

She kept her voice flat, the go away clear in her tone. His steps faltered for a second, but she could tell by the way his shoulders bounced that he wasn’t going to be so easily deterred. She had run away from him this morning and been saved multiple times in Calc. He wasn’t going to let her avoid him anymore. He approached her and her dad with all the cool confidence a 17-year-old boy in a band could muster. Her mouth almost fell open when he bypassed her completely to stick his hand out towards Ray.

“Luke Patterson. You must be Mr. Molina. It’s very nice to meet you, sir.”

His smile was genuine and charming, his lyrical voice all too polite. Julie wanted to scream as she watched her dad fall for it. Could she not have one single embarrassing moment to herself anymore? Was she doomed to play out the moments she came off looking the worst in front of this cute boy for the rest of her life? Her dad’s eyes lit up as he shook Luke’s hand. Julie wished she could bash her head against something.

“Patterson? Mitch and Emily’s boy?”

“Yes, sir.”

Only Julie caught the way his smile tightened and his shoulders raised defensively at the mention of his parents.

“Wow, you’ve grown quite a bit since the last time I saw you! Good people, your parents.”

Julie rolled her eyes at the dad-ness of it all.

“I forgot you were in the music program with Julie...”

She couldn’t help but cringe as her dad’s words trailed off. That statement had been enough to remind him why he was here in the first place. He turned away from Luke to give her another heartbroken look. She hung her head to escape the censure behind his eyes.

“I am. Actually, that’s why I was trying to find Julie! She was late for rehearsal.”

Julie whipped her head up to glare at the boy still bobbing in front of them. He was trying to cover for her not knowing Lessa had blown that opportunity sky high not even 5 minutes ago. It was sweet in a misguided way, but it was also a painful reminder of all the things Luke had that she didn’t.

“He knows I got kicked out. You don’t have to lie for me.”

Her voice was sharp, and she was fully prepared for the kicked puppy look she was sure he would give her, but instead his smile only grew. His bouncing became impossibly springier, like gravity just didn’t apply to him. And then he winked, actually winked, at her.

“Awh, c’mon, Jules!”

His whine was just the right amount of playful, his eyes sparkling with mischief. Her heart did a weird flip in her chest.

“I know it was supposed to be a surprise, but the poor man is clearly suffering! We should let him in on our little secret.”

Julie’s glare intensified as she ignored the way the words our little secret hit the softest part of her heart. What the hell was he playing at? He winked again, something that should be outlawed given the way it made her stomach drop and knees weaken. Then he held up his hands in a half-hearted I give up gesture.

“Okay, okay. You don’t have to tell him about the plan to get you back into the music program if you don’t want to.”

If this were a cartoon, Julie was sure her eyes would have popped out of her skull completely at those words. As it were, she settled on doing everything she could to keep her jaw from dropping. She had absolutely no clue what he was going on about, but he clearly had some sort of agenda. There was a script to this encounter, she just hadn’t been given her lines. She saw her father shift out of the corner of her eye, arms raising to fold across his chest as he took in the scene unfolding between the two teenagers. Luke was still talking, apparently deciding to capitalize on Julie’s stunned silence.

“I just think it would be helpful if he knew about it. Then we wouldn’t have to sneak around so much. I know you wanted to have it be a big reveal, but we can still surprise your aunt!”

Her dad turned to her with a raised brow, confusion and the smallest seeds of hope growing behind his gaze.

“¿Mija?”

Julie wanted to punch a locker and also vomit. What the actual hell was Luke Patterson doing? She had no frame of reference for whatever game he was playing. No way of knowing if it was serious or some sort of prank. She looked away from her dad to meet Luke’s eyes. He gave her a small, pleading smile, silently begging her to trust him. His eyes became impossibly gentle and she saw that same boy from the studio last night and the kitchen this morning peeking out at her. Ultimately, it was that intimate reminder of his softer side that made her cave.

“It’s nothing, Papí. Just some hair-brained scheme Luke came up with.”

She raised her brow in a challenge, communicating with that one twitch that she wanted to see his endgame here. His face lit up like the 4th of July. She was sure if they had been alone he would have let out a victory whoop. He rocked back on his heels, hands in his pockets, biceps flexing in his best cool kid impersonation.

“Don’t sell yourself short, Molina. We’re getting just as much out of this as you are.”

She didn’t have time to snap back that she wasn’t sure she was getting anything out of whatever ‘this’ was before he was plowing ahead.

“See, my band and I lost our fourth member earlier this year, and we have our Junior Showcase coming up, but man, it’s been a serious struggle to find our sound without Bobby, and we really gotta nail this Showcase. It’s like the one where managers scout out who they really wanna pay attention to as a senior, so we gotta be the best.”

Julie saw where he was going with this before he actually got there, but it was too late to stop him. That was what she got for playing along with his stupid game in the first place.

“And see, I finally figured out that what we really need is someone like Julie to elevate us to that level. Your daughter is a freaking wrecking ball of talent, Mr. Molina. It took a lot of begging, but she finally agreed to play with us. There’s no way Lessa won’t put her back in the music program after we play together.”

His grin was a mile wide, pride shining from his pores. He was 100% sure of this plan, she could see it in the way he looked at her. Absolute blind faith in her. It was as flattering as it was terrifying.

“I see.”

Her dad’s voice was shockingly contemplative. Like he was actually considering supporting this crazy idea. He looked at Luke thoughtfully.

“Do Principal Lessa and Ms. Harrison know about this plan?”

Luke’s hand raised for one quick nervous scratch at the back of his neck. He gave her dad his most charming smile.

“Sometimes you’ve gotta go into ambush mode. Swing that wrecking ball of talent and smash some rules, eh?”

If it were any other parent, that line would have probably been the worst possible thing to say. But this was Ray Molina, whose first date with Rose had involved a small amount of breaking and entering as well as a large amount of running from cop cars and stealing kisses while hiding in alleyways. Rose had never met a rule worth following, and it was part of the reason Ray had fallen in love with her in the first place. Luke had sealed the deal without even really trying. Julie was doomed.

“I like it.”

Ray’s smile was almost as large as Luke’s. It was scary how similar they looked right now, enthusiasm shining in their eyes with an intensity that was borderline maniacal. There would be no getting out of this now.

“Why don’t you boys come over to the house after school? You can practice in our studio.”

Julie didn’t even get a chance to open her mouth before Luke was agreeing. She watched him shake her dad’s hand once again, some weird kind of bonding look passing between the two of them. Her dad wrapped a tight arm around her shoulder, and then turned them both towards the front doors again. Julie cast one final look at Luke over her shoulder, heart skipping a beat as he bit his lip and gave her yet another wink.

“See ya later, boss!”

Had her dad not been holding her up, Julie would have melted right into a puddle of mush. Yup, she was totally and completely doomed.

[funfickgirl22]

I want you to hug me for a little bit longer.

Chris Evans x Female Reader

Word Count: 924

Warnings: angst, stress, but ends with fluff.

You were in rainy London in your very small sitting studio flat surrounded by unpacked boxes. The flat was tiny you managed to fit king size bed where you were sleeping, sitting, and doing most of your work. Your friend Amanda send you a link to C. Evan’s interview. Describing how sexy he looked in this new outfit etc. Amanda didn’t know the truth. Chris was the reason why you moved to London and end your contract in Boston so quickly.

You started to hook up with Chris at the beginning of January 2019. Both of you needed a distraction from your jobs, and both of you enjoyed sex. It was a win-win situation.

At some point, you started receiving inconsistent signals from him. He sent you flowers nearly every day, was taking care of you when you were sick. It was very easy to get attached. He was charming, extremely intelligent, and most important: he was a good man. No one, ever, was so good to you before. But you knew it wasn’t a deal you guys had from the beginning. It should be sex only no strings attached. On the other hand, you never got an invitation to his house, he never said anything about his family and if you asked any questions, he simply changed the topic. After 8 months you had enough and confront him.

You were attached to Christopher but he pushed you away. As he left you heartbroken, you packed your stuff and moved back to your London studio.

Amanda sent you a link to W magazine interview. You scrolled down a web page and you could only focus on his lost eyes. Later in that interview he mentioned, he doesn’t get much sleep. You knew you shouldn’t care, but deep down you wanted to call him, and reassure him everything is going to be ok. Then another link. To esquire magazine. Sadness and anger in his eyes.

Suddenly your phone rang with the unknown number on your phone’s display. You answered it quickly.

“Hello?”

“Hi is this Y/N? You probably don’t know me… it’s Lisa Evans. Are you free to talk?

“Is Chris ok?!” – it was your only thought, you had a feeling something isn’t right.

“Well, physically yes” Lisa responded. “But mentally, I don’t know where he is.” You were silent for a moment therefore it gave Lisa a signal, that she can carry on her speech.

“You probably don’t know, but Chris speaks very highly of you all the time. I know you guys had a history. Chris cannot sleep, he barely eats and doesn’t want to speak to any of us. The stress from your breakup, and his upcoming project - it’s too much for him. You are the only hope we have left Y/N. I am begging you, can you please come over and save my son.” she had finished her sentence breathless, and with tears.

“What do you want me to do Lisa, how do you know he wants to speak to me?”- You were still in shock that Chris talks about you to his family.

“You are the only one who was so close to him, I am sure he wants to speak only to you.”

After this conversation has ended, you booked a flight and were on the way to the airport. Once you land at Boston airport, the driver was waiting for you and drives you to the Concord house. Your heart was beating so fast, you could hear it in your ears.

You knocked on a door but no one came in. Doors were open so you help yourself and entered the property. The house was huge, decorated with good taste but now one cleaned it up for a few days. You have heard tiny footsteps and have seen an adorable dog. It was probably Dodger. Doggy grabbed your sweater sleeve and started to push towards the living room like he was giving you a sign and showing you the way. You step into a dark living room, all windows were covered and only one person was sitting in a chair lost in his thoughts was Chris.

He looked at you and was completely shocked, happy, and relieved at the same time.

“Y/N?”

“Yes, Chris, it’s me. Come here, let me take care of you.”

He walked towards you, with a small smile but with still watery eyes. While he had a bath, you fed Dodger, and let him do his business. Once the bath was done, you lit the fireplace in his bedroom and asked Chris to go to the bed. He constantly watched every move you made, and at some point, he whispered:

“I am sorry Y/N”.

“Apology accepted. Now, move your America’s ass and make a room for me.” - Chris giggled.

You stripped to your underwear and join him in bed. You didn’t know how to act but you turn yourself towards Chris and started stroking his hair and forehead. Chris closed his eyes, quietly moaning from relief and pleasure. You let him lie his head on your chest and you continue to play with his hair. After a while, Chris fell asleep. Trying to change your position, Chris has stopped you.

“Wait, don’t pull away. I want you to hug me for a little bit longer” Chris muttered and kissed your lips. You only think you could do is smile. You were sure that this is the beginning of something new, better, for both of you. Everyone can make a mistake and you need to accept that.

[blankdblank]

Hobbit Soulmate Pt 27

“Gimli!” Straight out of the gate your head turned finding Sean there already waiting at the car from his own spot on the plane way up in the front sending him out much sooner than the pair of you. Warmly he wrapped you in a hug and nodded to Joe behind you who grinned doing the same while people who had cameras stole the chance to take pictures if the star and his mostly unknown friends. Only, most of the staff here had at least an idea of who you were having seen you in ample press pictures with the rest of the wider known cast. “Fly alright? You look a bit beat.”

Shaking your head you replied, “Flight was good. Glad to be back, nothing but rain back in New  York past few days.” Sean smirked making you giggle, “It’s different here. Little drizzles, that was buckets and my feet are sore from having to walk after the subway flooded twice. 37 blocks, both ways.”

“Ow,” he chuckled smoothing his hand over your back saying, “I’m guessing you don’t have a car.”

“Nope, and everything on my block is no parking, other than a garage three streets over that is twelve bucks a day. No thank you.”

He chuckled again easing his arm around your back to kiss the top of your head asking, “No Richard this time?”

“He had some auditions. But he’s pretty happy with his walk on bits he did get last year.”

“No doubt he’ll miss you terribly.”

You smirked up at him saying, “Well we’re doing Holidays again in England, got asked to go to Oxford for a story they’re writing on recent alumni.”

Sean, “Oh that’s good.”

Joe nodded, “One of the few from the Arts division chosen, most are academics, scientists and a couple musicians that got hired by exclusive orchestras.”

“Mainly a hopeful bit for mine, what I could do I think. Guesses on how my next premier will go.”

Sean smiled, “Do we get invited?”

Smiling back at him you said, “I did have the chance to name the closest 20 on these films to come see it, if you can. At least for the one in London, the premier in America I had to leave a spot for Jennifer Lopez, she’s been asking about it. No doubt Jennifer Garner and Colin Farrell will want in on the fun after sneaking from their film sets to mine a few times.”

In a hum he replied, “Well I look forward to it.” Turning his head to your father who eyed the familiar driver huffing to calm himself after his late arrival.

Shaking his head he approached saying, “I am so sorry. Some bozo thought he could park on the bridge halfway here and it is just crawling.”

“It’s okay,” you three said and you added, “We knew you wouldn’t be late unless there was some foolishness about. If it helps my driver in Canada got deterred by a moose.” Causing his smile to creep out and his hand to extend claiming your bag to carry back to the car waiting for you he put in the trunk along with the others.  “Thank you.”

Already with their keys most of the cast had let themselves into their usual rooms in the shared cottages on the compound and while you were unloading your bags Ian came up behind you saying, “Now you absolutely have to tell me what this delightful film is going to be about.”

Without turning you started to giggle and hoisted your duffel bag to your shoulder, “How big is the press for this? Everyone keeps asking me about it.”

Ian smiled saying, “Merely because my Dear, you have neglected to share just what the film is about. Suspense is everything.”

Sean, “I haven’t gotten an answer yet either.” Hoisting his bag out.

“That is because it sort of sounds ridiculous when I describe the film.”

Ian simply replied, “Try me.”

You sighed saying, “I am a ballet dancing Selki in a traveling show. There’s an obsessed Inspector who’s a monster hunter who thinks I’m a succubus. Tons of murders and Rich is in it too, an injured former dancer, rescues me and it turns out he’s a fish monster.”

Where you expected laughter a glimmer of something flashed in his eyes close to both intrigue and adoration and Ian replied, “Wow,”

Sean, “I love fantasy films, and you mix murder mysteries and I am in heaven.”

Ian, “My Dear, that sounds fantastic.”

Sean, “All the better she’s added us to the lists for the London premier.”

Ian’s smile grew, “I shall dust off my best suit for it. I cannot wait. I can never resist a good fantasy. Even that film where the children find fairies in their garden can’t resist watching it every time it plays.”

Sean said as you thanked the driver again who closed the trunk readying to head off again nodding his head to you in return, “No worries, we won’t spoil it for the others.” Flashing you a wink on his way to his cottage.

Up to yours your father unlocked for you both Ian joined you as you asked, “How big is the press?”

At your worry he said, “Just as it should be, though for an international film it has quite the reach, both the UK and States are talking about it and even Liv on her vacation in France heard about it there. Is it in English?”

“Mostly, yes, but I have a bit in Russian and Richard speaks some French with a French accent. I believe there is an Italian opera singer who’s a mermaid. They said it will have subtitles for those parts depending on the country it is shown in.”

“Do not worry about the press, you have performed admirably to promote this film without even going on a talk show building a hype that others are whispering about it far beyond what they had planned no doubt. Not to mention the fact you missed one big budget premier to finish filming it.”

“Still feel terrible about that. I thought my part would be smaller and they wouldn’t need me. I was his fourth love interest for heaven’s sake, his films it’s always a blip and you’re gone. Only filmed a week.”

“Very well done for a week alone. I could not have told that it was on such a small schedule by the look of it. Any more stops planned?”

“There’s two more films premiering in December. Then I do have some press lined up through Europe in January, producers lined everything up for me.”

Ian sat down on the bed beside you saying through a pat of his hand on your thigh, “This is your first time leading a cast in a big budget film. You will adjust to it.”

“Not a very big budget film compared to this, and it’s a lot like Sleeping Beauty,” His eyes looked over your face, “Aurora has arguably the least time of all the Disney Princesses in a film centered around her.”

“It still counts. The new year is not far off, just let it brew up some more and see how it settles. For now however, Peter called and he is on his way, now if you were guessing on who is up to something it would be him.” Making you smirk again standing as he did to help your dad order something to eat from the nearby takeout places.

Familiar confusion on which cottage to go to was broken by the trio of delivery guys who split up taking what was ordered to those waiting outside their cabins with cash in hand. While unloading your bag of trays Peter arrived finally at the door he knocked on once it opened and you replied, “Dining room.” When he came into view you smirked seeing the director now almost half of what he used to weigh, “Every time I see you a chunk of you is gone. Keep it up and you’ll be invisible.”

He chuckled moving closer with arms extended to hug you tightly, “I missed you Gimli, and, I have wonderful news.” His eyes shifted to the newspaper on the table and he said pulling a binder from the bag resting at his hip, “I see you have heard part of the news.”

“Yes, King Kong, well done. I know you’ve been wanting it for a long while now.”

“Yes, now, this is a bit of a scuffle, however, I would love for you to be our double for Ann Darrow.”

“Really?” You asked with a grin turning to fetch the juice from the fridge you bought on the way here while your father brought glasses out for you both and a spare for Peter. “Is it too physical for Naomi?”

Peter let out a sigh drawing your eye from the glass you were pouring, “Partly, though the main reason is, there’s going to be wire work and we need to flail her about while Kong juggles her from hand to hand in a Trex fight.”

Joe, “Whoa.”

Peter chuckled, “Yes, there will be dinosaurs in this and a good chunk of the time on Skull Island Ann will be very physical, running, sliding down hills, being thrown about in fields and in green screen studios. I need someone with endurance.”

Smirking at him you replied, “More like you need a rag doll.”

Peter chuckled out, “In not so graceful terms, yes. I need someone who can have the muscle control to be flailed about but not be violently whipping themselves around to hurt themselves and those they work with. Which is why I would also like to ask you Joe if you would join as well. In the wire work when she is flailed you would be a great height to hold the harness she is dangling from to act as the hand holding her while we have another double from these films also who will catch her when you toss her back and forth. Andy will be performing in a cg suit playing Kong camera wise but you have the height needed to give her someone big to work against in her bits when she’s alone with Kong instead of just another tennis ball on a stick.”

Joe nodded feeling more secure on your safety with that plan on using him and another as your bases, “Sounds good. My schedule is open.”

Peter looked to you inches from begging and you grinned saying, “You really think I would turn down King Kong? Come on.”

Making him laugh and open the binder saying as he flipped through it. “Now, we’ve been compiling information on New York from the Depression Era, cars, clothes, dialog coaches and of course information on films and live shows what to expect from that and I think we have a good idea where to start. We were hoping to have your ideas on things, especially the outfits for Ann. Not to mention, Vaudeville shows for Ann.”

.

Through the following week the use of your time in New York and the feel for it and studies on the history of the city for several projects had you the perfect one to help. One mock up in particular in a sketch board had you saying, “You’re missing two buildings.”

The artist said, “No, the maps have that marked as a garden.”

“Well now, but there was a fire in ‘37 that ruined them. Had to tear them down, and it wasn’t till WWII was over that they built this garden.” From your notepad you passed them a sketch you had made the night before with a note of the book you knew to have a photograph of the buildings that was tacked up and later that day the images were confirmed and the sketch for that one was replaced with the proper buildings.

From fabrics, shoes, hair and makeup every detail was scrutinized along with possible choreography for the Vaudeville and live musical shows the film could hint to. Down to the final feather with just the detail scrutiny you combed through everything supplied to you the next two months had his producers more confident with what mock ups and changes he had brought to confirm that they were right in giving him room to film and produce it all in New Zealand.

There wasn’t much to your days on set. Blips in the background once again granting you ample time to delve more into the history of the Depression era to add even more details. David was there to play Faramir leaving to recover Osgiliath with you in the crowds. Days later you were in a forest as an Elf atop Misty to escort Arwen off to the Grey Havens.

Days of combing through their collected footage for the small musical shows were fully delved into with sketches and possible choreography drafted out by you and one of the movement coaches on the trilogy until the actual choreographer would be arriving the following year to work with the cast and extras. Plays from the era were gathered as well and compiled with the best to send off to the lead male interest for his role as a playwright. All the while Sean Austin between his own scenes directed a short film entitled The Long and Short of It. And the final bit you hid in the back of was flashbacks containing Boromir, Faramir and Denethor, including the day Denethor ordered his son to Rivendell.

Dedicated didn’t come close and as the Weta crew tasked to begin on the Kong wardrobe, props and models they absolutely cherished having your help in all of this. Each fully realizing how you had just bled out all this knowledge you had from the era, including tidbits you had learned from Mrs Henderson while you lived down the hall from one another. All the flaws and beauty of the time conquering such terrible times just exuded from the sketches and printouts you gave as references easing their path into setting the stage.

When it came to the boat however you were lost and let your father take control as he’d been on ships like the one from the film and knew docks and that aspect better than you. Down to comments or lines on navigation or the weather how it works around the center of an ocean. The island however was still a huge mystery and while you built the world Andy continued to build up his own investigation into apes and their whole world including having planned a trip to observe actual gorillas outside of a zoo setting. All the same you soaked up all you could while nursing your wounded pride at not being big enough to have earned a chance to audition for King Kong at all.

…

“Sorry,” Howard’s eyes shifted to you with a smirk from your bashful detraction of your hand. After mornings of working with WETA you found your afternoons here working with him again in scoring and the oh so sad song for Gollum and his back story.

Peter however chuckled from his seat where he was scribbling a few notes on things to tweak in the footage playing to the demo score for this scene you were tweaking, both of which Howard rolled back. “You know you have free reign for tips here, Dear.”

In a huff you said, “Sorry, just feel like no time has skipped since the sound board at Texas.”

Peter asked, “Soundboard? You worked on scoring in Texas?”

“Not just on it I was Howard for them when they drove off the other guy.”

Peter, “What? They made you score the film?” Almost sounding ready to pummel the director and management in charge of adding to your weight of the first starring role you had fully explaining why you were so relieved to be back here from those sets.

“Well it just started with us needing some music to dance to, as they have us a metronome to rehearse with while the original guy started his war with the director. So it was some violin and piano, no biggie. Nice and simple, then the role had singing as part of it as well as the dancing but the original songs he promised were nothing but titles so that was a Gaelic, French, Russian and English one, some lullabies, some with a bit operatic in it. Then by the time it gets to the end scene he wants a love song for the big finale so Rich helps me out with that on his cello and then they hear the demos and how I just blended the film perfectly, and then I end up scoring it too.”

Howard sighed then asked, “Please tell me it didn’t have to do with us naming you as part of the crew for the past one.”

“Not entirely, no, I studied at Oxford, and Juilliard. Performed on Broadway, won a Tony for that. And then I got the first film as my first role and got to work with you. So I must be an expert.” A moment you sighed and smoothed a hand over your face, “Sometimes I wish my grandparents didn’t brag so much about me.”

The pair chuckled and Peter asked, “I almost hate to ask about Daredevil.”

“Oh,” you said with a sarcastic chuckle, “I loved the Selkie film, I was exhausted beyond belief but at least I had my family and Rich out there to help with the scoring and choir to go with the orchestra. No, no, Daredevil, is no longer Daredevil,” that had their brows arching up in confusion, “It’s now Daredevil and Elektra, two films dwindling my role in the first to nothing. So instead of letting me keep my nap time the Director decides I can play a stewardess too! So I got that my cafe blip, a second of a glance in a party scene and I was wrapped. Got to meet Colin Farrell but other than that, Daredevil was a dud and I have never met anyone like that Director before. Almost tore my leg muscle by his telling the wire guy and not me he was changing the moves while I was mid freaking air! Another guy had his collar bone fractured! You don’t do that to stunt people to ‘make it cooler’ by adding a wall slam mid fight!”

Peter, “I’m so glad you weren’t hurt.”

“I’m glad it’s over. And I highly doubt I will work with marvel again if he’s at the helm. If ever. But it was fine, but hectic, but fine. Glad to be back here to see what you’ve been hiding behind your lenses.”

Peter smirked and Howard asked, “If I can ask, how do you think you did? Scoring?”

Softly you sighed, “Well, if they don’t touch anything I did past a few trimming of edges, and I do mean edges, there was this bird that just kept dangling into the set scenes on side shots. Cuz they just had some scenery shots out in Russia and Switzerland, and then we did the rest on sets in Texas, so it should be easy to finish it off. If they don’t touch anything else then it should be pristine. I think it’s amazing, it’s not a multi million dollar budget thing, but I think I did good. Film is on my shoulders if it isn’t seems like, so fingers crossed my family and Rich weren’t lying at how they loved it. But the producers are getting a glimpse and I should hear back from them soon before they finish off prepping to green light the theater tours and release.”

Howard, “I am certain it will be wonderful, you have a great ear and natural sense for this. Are they at least paying you for it?”

You nodded, “400 grand after renegotiations of my contract. Grandparents lawyers talked them up to that much somehow.”

Peter, “You are more than worth it.”

Unable to help it a grin eased across your lips and you said, “I’m gonna have 400 grand. I could buy a house!”

The guys chuckled at your excited giggle and glance back to the screen and Howard said, “Ah, yes, we are muffling the majesty of Gollum muttering.” Easing a knob a bit to the left to lower the music just a tad to not clash with Andy’s raspy voice in a whisper battle.

.

September into October was the layout for the trip to New Zealand and with a few calls of plans laid in stone you received the all clear from the upper guys on your Selkie film that they green lit it and were planning theaters now for the January release date hoping to hit the market when there would be a lull for fantasy and thriller films in the packed year with ample to entertain the public hastening things along. About a Boy answered your role with a check and as Enough had left theaters and gone to disk and vhs you got that money too. With a promise of three more film checks to come not just helping to pay off the rest of next years rent and grant you more savings to dip into for travels and possible roles and events that might pop up in your ever changing life.

Home again to your chilly apartment you went, while your Dad went south to get some more months on the ranch before the flight to England for the Holidays again. First he had tried to wiggle out to give you time alone but Richard had already called him and tried to plan a surprise for you in means of an exploration trip of a new spot from his childhood he’d yet to show off to you he knew you both would love to see this time of year booked solid the year prior. Catching up with some old friends from school you kept yourself busy with a movie trip for two films you’d yet to see before heading to some museums and the remodeled aquarium simply falling back into an easy pattern to your days on your own. An odd thing to have missed, just these solitary lazy days where you were free to do as you willed yourself to before heading home to get some sleep. Found rabbit ears had helped you to get a few static to clear channels to browse through after you had finished sorting through all your backed up junk mail, as anything important was sent ahead by your landlord to where you were staying through the year.

Lee however in his usual fashion swooped back in post trip to Canada to go and spoil your peaceful solitude flying back to share his trip with an irritated plop onto the bed after you had let him inside. Apparently just a day before the table reads he joined the rest of the cast groaning at the loss of the lead female in the show only meaning auditions would have to be held again while the others hey had lined up as back ups were already booked on other gigs. Puppy dog eyes ensued and what you thought might be a longer vacation for yourself was being threatened by his hazel eyed self close to pouting and begging if he had to so this role could not be lost and his best friend could work with him on it possibly rooming together as well.

Though thankfully for you jet lag kicked in post take out stop and went to his apartment downstairs to get some well needed sleep with a promise to be back up in the morning for the flight out to California for the premier of The Ring. Excited to share his own news Richard took up most of your night spilling all on how he had prepped for his latest role before regrettably apologizing for keeping you up so late at his own yawn warning him of the time. Giggled off the remorse faded and with a few moments of a grin he readied for bed as you laid out and tried to get some sleep before the flight with a promise to call you after you had seen the film to spill on how it all went.

.

“Where the hell,” watching the luggage drop onto the turning rack you muttered not seeing your bag after Lee had hurried around the conveyer to grab his own he had missed thanks to a group of Hockey players diving between you. Shaking that off you got back to scouring for your bag only to turn your head seeing Lee with your bag and his in his hands, “Hey.”

Chuckling your way once he’d blown his hair away from his eyes he said, “It was tucked under mine.”

“Aww, well it gets lonely I guess.” Making him chuckle and tilt his head as you shouldered your bag.

“Let’s see if we can find a cab.”

A few steps later you said, “Thanks, for coming with me.”

“Hey, I promised I would.”

“Just, I know you’ve been trying to research for your new show.”

That had his grin split out and he said, “Speaking of which, I hear they are having to look for a new female lead.”

“Lee,”

“Oh come on you would be perfect, and we get to act together. You get to be my sister who talks to inanimate objects making me reconsider everything I stand for.”

“Seriously, first the Selkie then that, I might get a reputation.”

“For having an incredible imagination, yes.” His glance out to the line of taxi’s had his head swiveling until you heard your name being called.

“Miss Pear! Oh, over here!” A grin spread across your lips seeing the familiar taxi driver you’d gotten the last time you had come to town to visit Lee. His hand reached out to swat the hand away of another driver trying to hold up a sign for his own cab, “Stop it, I know her, you leech.”

Lee glanced at you and you said, “I’ve ridden with him before.” Crossing the walkway you approached him saying, “Morning Aarush.”

His smile split wider, “You remembered my name!”

“How could I forget? You were so kind to me.”

Chuckling to himself he led you to the back to open his trunk, muttering, “A celebrity knows my name.” You smirked and he hurried to close the trunk and hurry to his seat to take you to your hotel. A signature from you and Lee on the back of the Polaroid you pulled from your bag hid him just about glowing taking your tip and hurrying off promising to call his family about the celebrity couple he had picked up from the airport.

Exhaling sharply your held grin deflated and you rubbed your cheek making Lee chuckle and hum out, “I think you made his year.”

“Oh come on Casanova, let’s get to our room so I can eat something before we get shuttled around again.”

Inside the doors of the not so luxurious but oh so expensive hotel you had been booked into by the production team he answered on the way to the desk, “Do you have press for this?”

“No, there’s another interview at the after party for another magazine but other than that I’m not huge in this. Besides the other teens are bigger names than I am. They have been doing all the rounds on shows and such.”

Once at the front desk the man eyed Lee and then you smiling as he recognized your face clearly from the portfolio of actors coming to stay here for the premier. “Miss Pear, we were not certain when to expect you. There are storms blocking travel from a couple of actors flying from England so a number have been delayed.”

“Well it’s all clear from New York.”

“Wonderful,” he said with a grin and assembled your card keys and said, “All the information for room service and the tv is all up in your room, simply take the elevator on the left up to the fifth floor.”

You nodded saying, “Thank you.” Stepping aside with a glance to the front door seeing Naomi Watts entering with her boyfriend Leif, after a huff in lowering her bag onto a cart brought over for her she smiled and waved your way gaining a wave in return as you passed into the hall out of her sight. Lee hit the button and you came to a stop beside him, “I think I want a burger.”

“Burger sounds really good right now.” In a glance down at you he smirked adding, “You remember Tracie Tohms?”

“Ya, she was in a few of my classes.”

“She’s on the show. You’d get to play best friends.”

“You are shameless.”

“Oh come on, at least come out and look at my rental there. Say hi, come see the Niagra set with me.”

One glance at your phone and your math said that Richard was still in his last audition and could be home afterwards to hear about the film and possibly Lee’s offer. Knowing which room you were in the burgers were rushed up to the room and at the table you listened to the cartoon film playing on the tv between muttered bits of conversation on what your part was in this horror flick mainly to let him know how terrified he would be to sleep in the bed beside yours tonight. A notion you giggled away saying you were chilling but not out to throttle him in his sleep, brushed teeth however followed easing the dishes on the cart outside the door joining others from fellow actors wishing to snack before the evening ahead.

Back in your indigo short sleeved velvet dress and black tights you secured your black booties tied with the decorative indigo laces. Just a moment Lee lingered in the doorway admiring your look as you fluffed out your hair in the mirror aimed at the beds once on your feet confirming in the dimmer room that your makeup was suitable under bright and dim lighting. Turned around you grinned looking over the tall date you had smoothing his hand anxiously over his navy tie to go with his charcoal suit. “Look at you trying to steal my thunder,” That had him chuckle and glance to the door at the knock from your assigned aid to get you all into the right cars and you grabbed your clutch.

At your side he went down and with his hand on your back he took notice of Liev and Naomi’s curious murmurs and inspection of your unknown date you had brought with you. To the cars the line of actors went and all in a row each of the cars emptied onto the carpet with more smiles spreading at noticing you had arrived before gazes shifted to Lee who was clearly not how you described your Mate. All the same with his hand still on your back he walked with you trying to not seem so bewildered towards what was going on around him.

Amber was the first one you reached and into a hug she tugged you then pulled back, “You look amazing,” you muttered into her hair.

“Thank you, so do you,” she said when she pulled back again and looked to Lee, smiling again shifting her fingers against the purple skirt of her dress, “And you would be?”

“Lee, Lee Pace.” He answered with a flinch of a grin.

“We went to Julliard together, my best friend.” You said bumping your hip into his making him chuckle at his absurdly skyrocketing nerves.

That widened her smile, “Well welcome, welcome. Let’s introduce you to the guys,” she said reaching out for your hands to show you both to the group of teens from the film greeting you fondly and Lee as well once Amber shared who he was.

Naomi came next in their interviews with Liev at her side, both in black, “There you are, you brought your friend today?” She asked in a brief hug.

“Yes, Rich isn’t the best without a cushion for horror films,”

Making Liev chuckle then lowly mutter, “Aren’t we all in need of a cushion.”

“This is Lee, best friend from Julliard.”

Liev hummed out, “Drama, dance or music?”

Lee, “Drama.”

Naomi, “Ooh, have you been in anything we might have seen?”

Lee nodded, “Yes, I had a part on Law and Order: SVU, and I have a film coming out soon.”

Liev teased, “Let me guess, something with sports?”

Lee chuckled and shook his head causing Liev’s brow to tick up, “Burlesque dancer, actually.”

Naomi’s brows shot up and you bit the inside of your lip not to laugh, “Do they have male burlesque dancers in the States?” Asking her boyfriend who was smirking.

“Only Tranny’s and Drag Queens, brave choice.” He rumbled back to Lee.

Lee, “I was lucky to get it, and Jaqi helped me with the dances and movement a great deal. Owe a lot of it to her really.”

“Could have paid me back with those thigh high boots if your feet weren’t so damn big.” Making Lee chuckle and rub a hand over the back of his neck as Liev chuckled knowing the difficulties of playing a transsexual from one of his prior roles.

Naomi smirked looking to you asking, “Any new roles coming up?”

“Other than playing your stunt double,” making her lips part, “Not really, congrats by the way, Ann Darrow, is a phenomenal character to land.”

“Yes,” she said, “They did confirm I was cast the lead. I met Peter, he’s quite, intense on his vision, right?”

“Um, I wouldn’t say intense, determined, might be closer. Did he say something?”

“Well no, just, I got this amazing audition for this part I have been dying to hear is close to production.”

“Oh?” the guys around you caught your flinch of a betrayed expression you masked at Lee’s poke to your back in her excited glance upwards in search of the right words.

“I can’t say much about it but I know you’ve been here, so many jobs to pick from and you just want to do them all, but with oceans in between it just isn’t possible.”

Lee grinned stopping you from speaking in a squeeze of his arm around your back pulling you into his side, “Exactly, Jaqi’s a bit torn on accepting a show we’d work together on. Bit last minute back up in Canada.”

Naomi, “You should just take it! I know how much you said you loved Canada.” Her name got called and she grinned saying, “See you inside.” And led Liev off who nodded to your forced nod.

Under your breath when you were alone you whispered, “Intense on his vision?”

“Look, I know you love Peter, but hey you have to look at the golden lining.”

“Which would be?”

“She drops out they audition again, right?”

“Great, so I can be skipped over twice.”

“Oh stop,” he said turning you at your name being called for your round at pictures and a few questions on the way inside. Under his arm again he hummed by your ear on the way inside, “You got Gimli, don’t forget that. Peter has been showing you off,”

“That doesn’t-,”

“And, if the role is empty close enough they will be desperate.”

“Thanks,” you replied sarcastically.

“You know what I mean. You will blow the big boys out of the water.”

Inside up closer than you had sat before, your seats were claimed and with his hand fixed in yours Lee settled down only to loop his arms around yours within just the first production logos for his nerves. The difference from your opening scenes just talking with Amber to your asylum scene had his jaw dropping and leaning in when Naomi’s character left you heard him whisper, “Good gracious woman,” behind your lifted hand you giggled making Naomi and Amber a few seats over having caught that giggle too. Tiny jumps and squirms closer to your side echoed of reactions around the audience until your hand covered your mouth to not make a shriek like others when Martin’s character was turned and revealed to have a warped face. On your other side Martin chuckled patting your other hand to comfort himself after his own hard flinch unsettled by the expression as Amber had for hers earlier.

The party after had him nearly fixed by your side choosing not to schmooze and catch up with you until his interview turn came up and he sighed freeing the seat beside you for a short time at least if he had his way. Another sip for you was halted by a flinch at Liev’s voice by your side, “She wants to work with you, you do know that?” That had your eyes on him fully, “Because it’s not avoiding working with you again, she loves working with you. Perhaps even better on less terrifying terms this time around. It truly is a project she’s talked about for decades.”

“Oh no, guessed it’d have to be big, must be, to pass on King Kong.”

That had his grin creeping wider, “Exactly.”

In his glance over to her distant laugh had Lee saying, “It’s Peter’s dream film,” making Liev look at him again, “Waited for decades to get to film it, he doesn’t mean to be intense, just wants it to all fit his dream picture, from what I hear.”

Liev smirked at you saying, “I know you like him, worked with him before, you talked about him like it, it was something like magic what he pulled out of his hat, that’s why she wanted to give his film a chance to get a hint of that magic. You don’t find that often, if at all. She’s taking all the options in stride, and maybe she can line it all up how you are able to. I just didn’t want you to think it might be you she would be avoiding by possibly choosing against it.”

“No I get that, really, it would be great to work with her on something. I don’t know, guess I’ve never been on the other side, seeing someone choose against a project like I have before.”

“No,” he chuckled out, “It is new, and often there’s no explanation afterwards. Been there.” You pointed subtly and his eyes shifted to her again with brows raised and he grinned seeing her grin and nod over making him chuckle out, “Being paged, see you later.”

Lee chuckled to himself when he was out of earshot and murmured to you, “Peter does more than magic and so do you. Stars’ll line up, and I will bet you on that.”

You smirked at him, “And just what do you have on you to bet right now besides your dad’s borrowed tie?”

Deepening his grin, “Ouch, I may be penniless but I have my perks.” That had you giggling and shaking your head to his chuckles only to turn it seeing the first of the interviewers approaching the pair of you he noticed was not like the other actors in a steady loop around the room, more preferably stationary to encourage a more proper interview with a good writing surface. Of course with smiles to welcome each fully once they had tired of the others.

Pt 28

@himoverflowers​, @theincaprincess​, @aspiringtranslator​, @sweeticedtea ​, @thegreyberet​, @patanghill17​, @jesgisborne​, @curvestrology​, @alishlieb​, @jogregor​, @armitageadoration​, @fizzyxcustard​, @lilith15000​, @marvels-ghost​, @catthefearless​, @imjusthereforthereads​, @c-s-stars​, @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore​, @mariannetora​, @shes-a-killer-kween, @ggbbhehe4455, @xxbyimm (Hobbit x oc)

X all Rich. A - @abiwim, @deepestfirefun, @thestorybookmistress

X Lee P - @tigereyesf

[dweemeister]

The Steel Helmet (1951)

Looking through American World War II films made during the war itself, one notices that many have overt strains of bellicose patriotism and propaganda. That war, the final world-consuming crisis for several decades, impacted even civilians living oceans away from the violence. The Korean War cannot be described as such. When North Korea’s Kim Il-sung ordered the invasion of South Korea on June 25, 1950, the U.S. military that countered the invasion was a shadow of what it was five years earlier. What was originally described as a “police action” and nominally pitted United Nations forces (of which the U.S. provided ninety percent of troops) against Communist troops failed to garner much attention from the American public even as it was being fought.

Released a half-year after North Korea’s invasion, The Steel Helmet is one of the first films set during the Korean War. Directed, produced, and written by Samuel Fuller for the independent studio Lippert Pictures, the film was made on the cheap ($104,000; just over $1 million in 2020’s USD) and shot in ten days. The Steel Helmet bears little resemblance to its older cinematic cousins, the WWII films released during that war. Convulsing with bitterness, racism, and post-traumatic fury, this is an attempt to portray life as an American infantry soldier with emotional honesty. The details of battle scenes might not be as accurate as they could be – and certainly not how Korea itself and the film’s Asian characters are portrayed – but The Steel Helmet succeeds in its primary goal.

Surviving a North Korean massacre, Sergeant Zack (Gene Evans) is found by a South Korean boy he will nickname “Short Round” (William Chun; this nickname, also used in 1984’s Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom for Jonathan Ke Quan’s character, refers to a flaw in a gun’s ammunition). Short Round knows English and begins following Zack – much to the latter’s annoyance. The boy won’t listen to, “beat it, kid”; nor does he appreciate being called a, “gook”. Zack and Short Round soon encounter Corporal Thompson (James Edwards), a black medic who is the last surviving member of his unit. The accidental trio shortly stumble onto a small, battered patrol commanded by Lieutenant Driscoll (Steve Brodie), who immediately suspects Thompson – because of his race – to be a deserter. Just as the trio argue with Driscoll and his unit, the soldiers are ambushed by snipers and take cover in an abandoned Buddhist temple (to the film’s discredit, it resembles nothing like an actual Buddhist temple and the centerpiece statue looks nothing like the Buddha). There is a North Korean soldier hiding in the shadows of the temple. And unbeknownst to the American soldiers, an enormous wave of North Korean soldiers is advancing on their position.

The events and characters of The Steel Helmet are fictional, but they have been adapted from Fuller’s war diaries and adjusted for the difference in setting. The Steel Helmet’s limited budget ensures that the violence is contained to the premises of a soundstage; the hordes of North Korean soldiers appearing in the film’s finale either the product of stock footage or Asian college students from UCLA hired as extras. There are no soldiers in The Steel Helmet who show complete deference to authority or accept the reasons why the United States military is in Korea at all. The encompassing political reasons for the Korean War are of little concern to them – survival becomes their only motivation. As a portrait of an infantry soldier’s mentality in desperate circumstances, The Steel Helmet benefits from Fuller’s military service during World War II. The soldiers’ actions and mindsets always seem realistic.

With his scruffy beard and punctured helmet, Zack is a grunt soldier that has become disillusioned with a war that has not even lasted a year. The anger he feels about the adversity he and his comrades have faced is boiling over. Zack is constantly searching for something or someone to take his emotions out on. His somewhat contemptuous attitude towards Short Round suggests racial resentment (more on the film’s depiction of racism later in this review) and that he has no patience for those who cannot defend themselves when the enemy is near; his initial behavior towards Driscoll’s squad is colored by grief manifesting as antagonism.

Fuller’s attempts to articulate the deranged psychology of battle-hardened infantry soldiers are taken to extremes rarely seen in American films in the 1950s. The most chilling example occurs as the film’s closing act begins. A prisoner of war (POW) is unexpectedly murdered by Zack as North Korean soldiers draw near. Zack carries out this murder with concealed, stone-faced passion. Even without the gruesome images that are allowed in modern cinema, the murder is shocking and, considering the characterizations of those involved, conceivable. It is lawless battlefield “justice” where the executioner is also the judge and jury. For moviegoers accustomed to the mostly propagandistic – intentional or otherwise – World War II films released in the prior decade, the notion that a member of the United States military could commit a war crime must have been unconscionable. Then and now, other American viewers not nearly as critical of the military’s conduct might have seen what is an obvious violation of the Geneva Convention as justified.

Joseph Breen’s office at the Motion Picture Association of America (MPAA) was tasked with enforcing the Hays Code (censorship guidelines that applied to American films until 1968, when replaced by the present-day ratings system). As one might expect, the Breen Office voiced vehement objections to this scene – especially since Zack is never punished on-screen for his actions. Nevertheless, Fuller campaigned to keep the scene and it remains in the film. The Breen Office’s reasons for backing down on this appear to stem from the fact that Driscoll threatens a court martial immediately after Zack fires his gun – a peculiarly minor concession, it seems. The Breen Office’s ultimate approval of the film’s debate on racial relations are unclear, and I have been unable to find any explicit reason in freely available literature describing that aspect.

The film’s prisoner of war (played by Harold Fong, whose character is credited as “The Red”) is an English-proficient North Korean soldier. Observing the unit that has captured him, the audience will notice that this is a motley bunch. Granted, the notion of a diverse military squad is a war film cliché. But after President Harry Truman desegregated the armed forces in 1948, note that this is one of the first depictions of an integrated U.S. military in film. A decade earlier, Cpl. Thompson would have been bandaging the wounds of black soldiers and might not be allowed near a wounded white comrade. One of Driscoll’s subordinates is Sergeant Tanaka (Richard Loo; a Chinese-American actor who nevertheless made a living playing numerous Japanese antagonists during the 1940s), who served in the 442nd Infantry Regiment – which was composed almost entirely of second-generation Japanese-American (Nisei) soldiers – during WWII.

Under watch by the Americans, the North Korean soldier will attempt to stoke racial divisions among his captors. Speaking to Thompson, he notes the hypocrisy of a black man fighting for a nation that has failed to recognize non-white people as equal under the law. The prisoner notes that, if Thompson ever returns home, there will still be “whites only” services and that he will have to sit in the back of public buses. Thompson keeps his cool, acknowledging the reality of the prisoner’s words. Nevertheless, Thompson reasons, he is assisting the nation he cares for, showing that he can perform as ably as anyone regardless of race. As Thompson implies, perhaps one day the United States will achieve the ideal it is purported to be – in his individual way, he shall serve the best he can.

Then there is the nighttime conversation between the North Korean and Tanaka. The POW begins by remarking that Americans despise Asian eyes, and then – in what is possibly the earliest, non-documentary mention of this in American cinema – evokes the Japanese-American concentration camps that Tanaka and his family almost certainly were forced into. An exhausted Tanaka, with a fatigued but barely annoyed glance, tells the North Korean major that his charade is too transparent:

THE RED: …They call you “dirty Jap rats” and yet you fight for them. Why? TANAKA: I’ve got some hot infantry news for you. I’m not a dirty Jap rat. I’m an American, and if we get pushed around back home… well, that’s our business… knock off before I forget the Articles of War and slap those rabbit teeth of yours out one at a time.

If The Steel Helmet had been made a few years, perhaps a few months, earlier, these disapproving mentions about the United States’ terrible record on racial equality might never have appeared in the film. The legitimate concern that black Americans would not support the United States military resulted in films like The Negro Soldier (1944). In World War II, the then-segregated military was viewed unfavorably by a substantial minority of African-Americans, so the government (and a cooperating American film industry) reasoned that directly addressing the nation’s painful racial history might be counterproductive. And so soon after World War II’s end, the “yellow peril” that was the Japanese was substituted for another anxiety: communists. Still, the prevailing attitude among American narrative media in the early 1950s was to celebrate the “patriotic” Japanese-Americans and those who served in the 442nd – erasing almost entirely the unconstitutional and inexcusable internment of Japanese-Americans.

As Fuller realizes as he dons his Cold War glasses, the likes of North Korea, the Soviet Union, and the People’s Republic of China could easily use the United States’ racism to undermine its message. Those nations did exactly that and continue to do so (the Soviet Union succeeded by the Russian Federation). America’s idealized self-perception as democracy’s champion collapses quickly even at a cursory glance of its racial relations. The Steel Helmet should be applauded for including this dialogue in the film, but these scenes are brief and never fully adopt Thompson or Tanaka’s point of view. Both are portrayed as intelligent, composed soldiers. But beyond their soldiering, we learn little else – The Steel Helmet is Zack’s movie, with everyone else not nearly as developed as Gene Evans’ central character.

Fuller avoids glamorizing military service and war. Despite Korea as his setting, Fuller makes little constructive use of it and his Korean characters. Fuller might have found his own wartime mentality analogous to Zack’s, but the film becomes one-dimensional as it cannot branch out to detail the other American soldiers’ personal responses to the war they are fighting. The Steel Helmet is homiletic, so be warned if you are not seeking a war film that is unafraid to moralize – sometimes without artistry. But given the restricted budget and the film’s abbreviated 85-minute runtime, I found myself forgiving the film for most of these flaws.

Communist and far-left commentators accused The Steel Helmet of being pro-American propaganda; the far-right, Breen Office, and the Pentagon were horrified by the film and blasted it as anti-American. J. Edgar Hoover, the Director of the Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI), even launched an investigation into Fuller for suspected Communist sympathies. Such reception must have allowed Fuller a strange satisfaction, if one accounts his future reputation for addressing controversial themes with heavy-handed metaphors and allegories.

Moderately popular when first released, The Steel Helmet languished in obscurity in the decades after. That is unsurprising – the film was made and distributed by an independent studio. Thanks to the Criterion Collection and their special relationship with Turner Classic Movies (TCM), The Steel Helmet has found renewed attention thanks to its home media availability and the occasional TCM broadcast (it is regularly scheduled around Memorial Day and/or Veterans Day, in addition to the odd showing outside May and November). It is a fascinating addition to the lengthy list of American war films, supplying an era known for its propaganda-heavy elements with a forceful rebuke.

My rating: 7.5/10

^ Based on my personal imdb rating. Half-points are always rounded down. My interpretation of that ratings system can be found in the “Ratings system” page on my blog (as of July 1, 2020, tumblr is not permitting certain posts with links to appear on tag pages, so I cannot provide the URL).

For more of my reviews tagged “My Movie Odyssey”, check out the tag of the same name on my blog.

[kpoprambles00-blog]

MAMAMOO (마마무) - White Wind (9th Mini Album) [COMEBACK REVIEW]

[NOTE: I couldn’t fit in all the videos due to the video limit, so click/press the name of each song to go to YouTube and listen to it!]

There's a very well known saying that we often save the best for last. And yeah, that might not always be true, and I'm not trying to spoil my opinion right away, but... MAMAMOO took that saying to heart. HARD. I've loved the vast majority of what they've given us with the '4 seasons, 4 concepts' thing they've been doing for the last year or so - with their last album, Blue;S, admittedly being my least favourite, and Red Moon being my favourite. Yellow Flower was alright, with a few great songs here and there.

But White Wind? White Wind is THAT BITCH. AND I MEAN IT.

At this point this blog is basically composed of hyperbole and nothing else, but... holy fuck, this album. THIS FUCKING ALBUM. These sorts of releases are the reason I started this blog and these comeback reviews - every now and again we'll get to see something really special get released, and White Wind is one of those occasions. It's... the best thing MAMAMOO have ever done, period. And it absolutely shows why these girls are so damn popular. This is one of those albums that's making me proud to be a Moomoo since "Mr. Ambiguous". This is THEIR album. This is MAMAMOO's evolution if you ask me - this is where they go from a great group to a downright phenomenal one.

So I could wax on all day about how phenomenal this project is, or I could actually SHOW you why. And hey, that's what this blog is for, so buckle the fuckle up and get ready to have your wig fly to Mars.

I mean it. Get some glue for that shit, you're gonna need it.

1. WHERE R U

Any time I'm listening to a MAMAMOO song, and I hear Solar say this at the beginning:

🌟🌙✨C O S M I C ✨🌙🌟

I IMMEDIATELY LOSE MY SHIT. 'CAUSE THEN YOU KNOW THE SONG IS GONNA BE GOOD.

Cosmic Girl (formerly Lucy from RaNia) and Cosmic Sound have worked with MAMAMOO as composers and lyricists for quite a while now. But I'm now at the point where I'm convinced - CONVINCED, I TELL YA - that they cannot make a bad song for the girls. And "Where R U" serves to continue that trend!

It honestly fits the title of the album really well; there's some plucked strings and marimba-like notes in the instrumental that feel so damn breezy and relaxing. As well as this, the song's tempo is slow, but not slow enough that you're bored with it. "Where R U" is a very bright, smile-inducing song if I'm being honest. I was grinning like the Cheshire Cat the first time I listened to it, it's just damn delightful. It also helps that all four members sound like honest-to-god angels here. And hey, any song where Moonbyul sings more is a good song in my book!

The lyrics carry this very light-hearted feel to them, as well - they match the song perfectly. They're very sweet and heartfelt, but with emphasis on a lot of minute details that are super charming. It's not often that MAMAMOO actually do a lovey-dovey song like this, but when it's done right, it's very effective. And yeah, that's absolutely the case here! I like the lyrics a lot.

Do you want to eat and watch a movie? Just the two of us? The corners of my lips are curling up just thinking about it

All in all, I don't have a single bad thing to say about this song. It serves as a great introduction to the album, since it's slow and breezy yet pleasant at the same time. It's the perfect sort of song for a really summery day, to be honest - not the sort of sound I thought MAMAMOO would nail like they did here, but damn! I'm impressed. And that's just the start of this album. Oh boy.

2. GOGOBEBE (고고베베) [TITLE]

Not gonna lie, leading up to this song's release, I actually listened to all of the teasers - which is something I very rarely do - and I got hyped. It all sounded a bit more hip-hop inspired than most of MAMAMOO's title tracks, and the vocals sounded out of this world (as per normal). So when the song actually came out, and it was THIS good? Yeah, I was floored from the word "go".

I remember reading an interview where the girls themselves said "Gogobebe" is "a term that means everyone should just play, go, and enjoy themselves". And yeah, that certainly comes across here! There's playful acoustic guitars scattered around the instrumental, some really bouncy synths, a STRONG bassline, and choruses that just fucking explode towards the end of the song. Seriously, this is the sort of song you'd blast at a party at 2am, and the entire room would start singing along - think "Mr. Brightside", but not on the same level of recognition, obviously. That shouty "뻔뻔하게 놀아 미친 듯이 즐겨" section in the choruses is AWESOME.

I feel like this is the first title track we've had where MAMAMOO get to show off their personalities a bit more, too? Like, we all know how upbeat and playful these lovable idiots are, but that's mainly shown off in their side tracks - like "Taller Than You" or "Sleep in the Car". But here, their personalities are on clear display. This is a song they can have fun with, and that absolutely comes across in both the MV and the live stages. And when the song is this contagious, it catches on fast - just listening to "Gogobebe" puts me in a really good mood!

The playful/party theme of the song is carried over really well into the lyrics, which are also about just enjoying yourself and not caring about what comes tomorrow. There are a few stellar lines in there though, especially in Wheein's introduction and Moonbyul's second rap - apparently Solar and Moonbyul both helped write the lyrics, and if that's the case, consider me very impressed! They're a really fun and uplifting. (Also "너와 나의 mix and match" is A DAMN GREAT LINE. Thank you very much.)

The people who talk too much Always die first in the movies So raise up your self-love

So the song and lyrics are great, but what about the choreography? Honestly, I feel like MAMAMOO haven't had that many stellar choreographies; they're more focused on their songs and performances. Which is completely fine, that's just their style - but I'll be damned if they didn't knock it out of the park for "Gogobebe".

NOTE: The choreography in the video below is mirrored, so it's actually the wrong way around! There isn't an official dance practice for this song, so this is the best I could find.

That's mainly because they got Mina Myoung from 1MILLION dance studio to do the choreography here; and her skill in choreographing shows massively. There's a lot of pretty complex footwork and fast movements here, and yet the girls look flawless doing it! My favourite part is honestly the "9 slash 6" section after that second chorus - MAMAMOO go OFF and I am living for it. There's just a lot of complex details and touches here that make the routine so fun and pleasing to watch - they all make it look so easy, too, which, hoo boi that's not the case once you learn it. It's tough, but in the way that I love!

And hey, the girls even visited the studio to perform it with Mina when she taught it for a class. That's adorable. 😄 (Also HOLY SHIT WHEEIN. GO OFF GIRL. MAIN DANCER COMING THROUGH.)

Yeah, "Gogobebe" was fucking amazing. It's definitely up there with MAMAMOO's best title tracks, if you ask me - it's got the right blend of charm and charisma yet some silliness as well, and if that doesn't sum up the girls I don't know what will. I really hope they keep this momentum going, cause goddamn, I'll be a proud Moomoo if they do. :,)

3. WAGGY (쟤가 걔야)

Not gonna lie, when I saw the title of this song for the first time, I immediately thought "CHOO CHOO JOKE SONG TERRITORY HERE WE COME". And while that isn't completely false, it's definitely not completely true either. The jokiness of this song comes across more in the live stages than the actual song itself, since "Waggy" is actually an adorable little love song! And when I say adorable, I mean ADORABLE. This shit nearly gave me a goddamn cavity.

Let me be clear when I say that cutesy songs like this normally aren't my thing - I often find that unless they do something unique with their cuteness, I'll be bored with them veeeeeery quickly. But thankfully, describing your crush like a little puppy who follows you everywhere is JUST the sort of unique charm I look for in these sorts of songs. It's a memorable metaphor, and IT'S JUST TOO DAMN CUTE, MAN.

There's also the fact that the song itself is infernally catchy; the drum beat matches how my head was bopping along when I listened to it for the first time! It's honestly very reminiscent of Animal Crossing for me, since the soundtrack in those games is very similar to "Waggy"; full of acoustic guitars, simple rhythms and nice little songs you hum the melody to every now and again. I'm... honestly quite disappointed that this didn't blow up amongst young kids like iKON's "Love Scenario" did - it's adorable, and not that complicated either! There's also the fact that when the girls try to be cute, it either works, or ends up being hilarious (for example: Solar's little animal impressions in that bridge. I was ROLLING).

The lyrics are certainly another one of this song's assets, if you ask me. This is already "Puppy Love: The Song", and the lyrics definitely fit that theme! I'd love to know if the girls were able to keep straight faces whilst recording this, because I feel like there would've been a few laughter fits here and there... But like I mentioned before, that comparison of your crush to a puppy is the best part of this song. Hands down. My heart has melted and I'm surprisingly okay with it. ALSO HWASA SINGING IN FRENCH HOLY FUCK.

Woof woof woof, follow me upstairs, puppy When you follow me around You're seriously so cute

Y'know what the cherry on top for this song is, though? The live performances. Go watch them and then try to tell me that MAMAMOO are a deadly serious group. Hwasa looks like the friend that got dragged into everything because she lost a bet, and it's hilarious. 😂

But I don't think there's much else I can say about "Waggy"! It's got the perfect mix of jokiness and cuteness to be memorable, and it's irresistibly fun to boot. And catchy. Seriously, I've had this stuck in my head for weeks. Help.

4. 25 (WHEEIN SOLO)

All I can say is: IT'S ABOUT DAMN TIME.

A lot of Moomoos caught on quite quickly that each member would get one solo per album; Hwasa had a solo on Yellow Flower, Moonbyul had hers on Red Moon, and Solar had hers on Blue;S. BUT NOW IT'S WHEEIN'S TURN. If you ask me she's the most underappreciated member in MAMAMOO! And yet, while this doesn't live up to "Moderato", her other solo - but let's be real, what can - it's still a pretty solid track that acts as a nice interval to the album itself. And hey, Hash Swan isn't in this, so that already makes me happy! (Seriously, that guy's voice is insufferable... couldn't RBW have picked someone else???)

Similarly to "Where R U", "25" has a very chill, relaxed vibe going for it, with some atmospheric guitars and echoing vocals in the instrumental. I really like the triplet/sped-up rhythm of the lyrics in the verses, too - they give the song a nice bit of flavour where it's needed most. And obviously, the star here is Wheein; her vocals are no joke, she's the best vocalist in MAMAMOO in my opinion. But I do unfortunately feel like the song runs a bit short? It feels like she was hampered a bit, and I don't like that very much. She deserves her time to shine, too. But either way, she's still got a gorgeous voice, and she does get her chance to at least show that.

But aside from Wheein's voice, the lyrics to this song are my favourite thing about it. I never expected Wheein to take such a mature angle! And yes, she helped write the lyrics for this, go figure. Wheein actually talks about the topic of growing up, and trying not to lose your innocence and curiosity as you become an adult. She fully admits that growing up is, at times, not something she wants to do - she just wants to curl into a ball and not have to face adulthood. But eventually you get used to it - you adjust, you adapt, and you become more comfortable with the person you are (as well as who you'll be in the future). It's... surprisingly deep? Yet really, REALLY beautiful at the same time. They really changed my opinion on the song, actually! I went from being lukewarm on it to really, really liking it.

At times, I don't want to grow up Like the natural days I want to talk about it myself, but it's hard

"25" ultimately ended up being a song I really enjoyed - and yes, that's largely because of both Wheein's vocals and those amazing lyrics. The song itself does run a bit short, and I do still think it had a lot more room to develop, but what we got in the end is of an insane quality. Wheein should really try her hand at songwriting more, because if this is the sort of thing she's going to write, I'd love to hear what else she can come up with. 👌

5. BAD BYE

Ohhhhhh man, now we're getting into the part of this review where I just start to gush.

Everything we've had so far is either insanely high-quality, or memorable enough to become one of my favourite MAMAMOO songs - but now we're going into ballad territory. And THAT is where MAMAMOO apparently decided to step things up a notch, and turn this album from a good one into a great one.

All I can really say about "Bad Bye" is this: if you haven't done so already, listen to it. Just... listen. Sit there, listen to it in its entirety with no interruptions and preferrably a good pair of headphones, and just take it in. I can 100% GUARANTEE you that you will cry. Even if you've never been through a breakup, even if you can't understand the lyrics - that doesn't matter. I promise you, this song will leave you bawling. If you're not crying by the end, you'll certainly be close to it. And yes, that's largely because of the song itself and its execution, but what really put me over the edge was THE MOTHERFUCKING VOCALS.

People always categorise MAMAMOO as a "vocal group", right? Because of their power and technique, and the fact that pretty much all of the members can sing? I've always felt that title was fitting - but holy SHIT, this is taking it to a new level. Not only are Moonbyul's raps full of anger and raw emotion, Hwasa, Solar and Wheein fucking nail it vocally - THOSE ADLIBS, MAN. THOSE ADLIBS. They legitimately left me in tears here.

I cannot wait to see clips of this from their upcoming concerts, because if they sing this live? ...I may just collapse to be honest. "Bad bye" is so beautifully done, and so emotionally performed on the girls' part that it's breathtaking. And really, really damn heartbreaking, too. It's one hell of a sincere ballad. The instrumental has a part to play there too, because even though there are very skittery trap snares throughout, they never overpower the really emotional piano line - they never feel like a distraction, and they actually end up giving the song a good rhythmic base. But yeah, they're nothing but background to the girls' vocals, which are honestly some of the best in the industry. Fight me.

But if your heart wasn't broken from just listening to the song, don't worry! There's lyrics to help with that! Moonbyul once again helped on the writing here, and the lyrics end up being just as emotionally charged as the song and vocals. It's like the icing on top of a really depressing cake - but in a good way. There isn't a dull moment in them, they're as descriptive and heart-wrenching at the end as they were at the start.

Stop trying to comfort me now, I'm holding back tears I'm afraid of it being the end if I turn my back I can't go, I can't do it - tell me this isn't it

I could go on forever about "Bad bye", honestly. It's just... perfect in the saddest way possible. THIS is the sort of magic I look for in ballads; this has so much legitimate feeling and so many emotions to it that it makes you emotional regardless of whether or not you understand the words. I really didn't think they'd blow me away this much late into the album, but... man, was I wrong. As I'm typing this, their concert is taking place tonight (April 19th) - and I know I said it earlier, but I'm saying it again. I DESPERATELY need to see a live performance of this song. Please. 😭

Y'know what else I need a live performance of, though?

6. MY STAR

BITCH, YOU'RE ASKING ME TO PUT MY FEELINGS FOR THIS SONG INTO WORDS?

Hooooooooo man.

This song made me FEEL things, y'all. IT STILL DOES.

Again, once we were blessed with that "Cosmic" namecall at the beginning, I was excited. Really, really excited. I know Cosmic Girl & Sound make phenomenal MAMAMOO songs, so this was going to be great, right?

BITCH, WRONG. IT WAS GOING TO CHANGE YA DAMN LIFE.

We're only four months into the year. FOUR. MONTHS. And I may have found my side track of the year. Because "My star" is fucking insane. It, once again, left me in tears - but not because the song was emotional. I was in tears from how fucking shook I was whilst listening to this. This song goes haaaaaaaaaard. The bass and drumline in this song is SO damn powerful, the really creepy synths are right up my alley, the hand claps are hype as fuck, and THEM VOCALS. LET ME FUCKING TALK ABOUT THEM VOCALS. Because the girls all sound jaw-droppingly good, but... I need to call someone out real quick.

SOLAR.

MOTHERFUCKING KIM YONGSUN.

BITCH?!?!? WHERE WERE THESE VOCALS HIDING????

Did y'all even HEAR that fucking F6?! LIKE. FOR REAL?! KE$HA IS (majestically, like the queen she is) QUAKING.

Those adlibs... that was a fucking spiritual experience. My soul has left this plane of existence because of those high notes. Looks like she heard that I thought Wheein was the best vocalist in MAMAMOO and decided to fucking change my mind, good LORD.

Another huge thing for me is that this song has sustained my hype for it SO DAMN MUCH. Often, I'll love a song to death once I first hear it, but then it'll wear off over time. But "My star" is so good that that hasn't happened!! It is not only one of the best Cosmic tracks the girls have, but THE BEST B-side MAMAMOO have done. Period. It rivals "Midnight Summer Dream" from Red Moon for me.

And hey, speaking of "Midnight Summer Dream", this song also carries a creepy vibe! Now, unlike "Midnight Summer Dream", I don't think that creepy vibe is intended on "My star". But goddammit, read this song's lyrics and listen to those distorted/reversed synths during Solar's first verse, and tell me you don't immediately think 'stalker girlfriend'. This is a yandere anthem and y'all can't change my mind. IT'S CREEPY AND I LOVE IT. I really want to see a yandere MV for this. PLEASE, RBW. MAKE MY DREAMS COME TRUE.

But every time I breathe, [and] my heart is beating I can't feel it through you I wanna be your love

So don't mind me. I'm just going to go listen to this song for the millionth time and cry over how good it is. And also Solar's falsetto.

UPDATE [21/04/2019]:

THEY ACTUALLY FUCKING WENT AND PERFORMED IT LIVE.

The best video I can find of it right now is this Wheein fancam but I DON'T CARE. THEY ACTUALLY DID IT.

QUEEEEEEEEEEEEEENS.

7. 4SEASON (OUTRO)

...you know an outro is good when I want it to be a full song.

And that NEVER happens with me. I very rarely listen to intros/outros and go "huh, this would be nice as a full song". But that happened with "4season"! It's so nice and chill, literally perfect for listening to in a coffee shop of some sort. It's very short, of course, but the blaring synths and the trap snares actually make a really cool, atmospheric outro. And, as always, all four girls sound phenomenal. It's MAMAMOO, is that really surprising to you at this point?

Since the song is so short, the lyrics are going to be quite minimal as well. But the lyrics here remind me a lot of "Daydream" from Dreamcatcher's recent album - they seem to be a thank-you of sorts to the Moomoos. And I love stuff like that - it's super heartwarming when an idol/group does it, to be honest. If you're a Moomoo, you know how much MAMAMOO really do care for their fans, and that just makes this all the sweeter. :,)

One by one, build up [the] good memories and walk Walk together You and me

"4season" ultimately serves as both a great outro to "White Wind" as an album, and the '4 seasons, 4 colours" project as a whole! And godDAMN, what a way to end it. I wasn't kidding when I said this album is the best of the 4. It's skyrocketed its way to my list of favourite MAMAMOO albums, and I can't wait to own this physically. It's 100% worth it. 😊

ALL THE SOURCES FOR THE ENGLISH LYRICS I USED IN THIS REVIEW: Where R U Gogobebe (고고베베) Waggy (쟤가 걔야) 25 (Wheein Solo) Bad bye My star 4season (Outro)

COVER IMAGE CREDITS: Wind transparent background by KissPNG

[melysummer]

Falling Back In Our Wildest Dreams

“Lift your feet on the left,” Instructor Macy showed us her last step in the routine for the ballet performance of Moon Lovers: Scarlet Heart. “Now it is your time to do the routine for the last time, before I let you all go.”

Rechecking the ribbon of my shoes if it is tightly tied up, I stand up and walk to the grip bars for me to hold on and to set my position. As the music starts, I let my body do the graceful work of the routine that Instructor Macy showed.

Absorbing the feelings of the main character, in every step I take, emphasizing how hurt she has been, makes me come to my unusual feelings. As I raised both of my hands in the left side, I start to slip my movement swiftly in a diagonal motion. As I reached the middle of the room, I started to twirl and jumped encompassing my long horizontal jump. And when I was about to do my last pose, I saw a mysterious guy looking at me, looking hurt because he was left behind, like he was left behind, by his first love.

“Maria! Darling, are you alright? You blacked out,” I heard a voice while I was opening my eyes. “Yes, Miss Macy! I’m sorry I did not support my last pose; I got distracted a while ago.” I helped myself up yet my head suddenly starts to throb from the pain, Miss Macy assisted me to stand and sat me down on the bench near the lockers room.

“It’s alright darling, just be careful next time.” She patted my shoulder and turned around to the dancers to tell them to get back to practice and they continued to dance.

After practice, I didn’t manage to do my routine since my instructor told me not to push myself after the incident that I suddenly blacked out after my horizontal jump. My driver fetched me at the Ballet Studio and drove me to my house. While we were still on the road, I still can’t get over to the mysterious guy that I saw earlier. It is just so strange, he was looking at me like I did broke his heart, but I don’t even know him.

“Miss Elyssa, we have arrived,” Our family driver spoke out of the blue as I came back to my senses; it was kind of fast though.

I walked out of the vehicle and came inside our house. Surprisingly no one was on the living room, but then I expected it since my parents are busy for the upcoming show which is what I have been practicing. I walked straight upstairs to my bedroom, put down my things, and sat down on the chair at my study table.

I opened my bag to get my journal. I always keep my thoughts to my journal, since it has been helping me to let my inner self to speak out rather than telling it to neither my family nor my friends. I wrote what happened to the Ballet Studio and what was the cause of it. And of course, I wrote down the mysterious guy.

I cannot actually describe him but he has green teary eyes, curly slicked back hair, and he was wearing a loose buttoned up white sleeves and teal twill pants. I wonder why was he looking at me, but why do I suddenly felt like I do really know him from somewhere.

A sudden knock from my bedroom door distracted me as I asked, “Who is it?” The door opened and it was the head maid, “Miss Elyssa, dinner is ready my dear. Your parents are waiting for you downstairs.” I nodded and gave my thanks to her as she closed the door. I closed my journal and went to the comfort room to take a bath and changed my dress.

After I changed, I hurriedly went downstairs and met my parents at the dining room. “Maria Elyssa Del Luna, our dearest baby,” My mother greeted me and I gave her a smile and a hug, same thing to my dad. “Good evening mom and good evening dad.”

I sat down and we started to pray. After that the maids started to give us our drinks and our table napkin. “Darling, how was your practice?” My dad started to talk, as we started to dine with our food. “I almost got the steps right, I just need to clean it a bit more that’s all.”

“But dear, we heard from your instructor that you got distracted from your last pose, are you alright?” Mom worriedly asked and my dad was confusingly looking at me, eyeing every part of my body if I got any bruises.

“Yes mom I’m alright. Miss Macy did not let me practice my last routine for the piece since my head started to throb from the pain, yet I’m good now I took some pain killers don’t worry.” I gave them a reassured smile but they still looked worried.

“Our lovely Elyssa, just be careful for your performance this coming February 14. It’s just 1 day left, make sure you would perfect those poses, alright sweetie?” Dad pleaded and I nodded as we went back to eating and talk other matters about their business.

“Here’s your pills sweetie, drink them now,” Dad gave me my prescription pills and drank them one by one with water.

“Goodnight darling, we love you very much.” My mom kissed my forehead and went out of my bedroom. I closed my night lamp and drifting myself to sleep.

I woke up, the sun was shining so bright but I was not on my bed, I was at a meadow. Sitting in a picnic mat while I saw a guy that was lying down on my lap, looking into my eyes and I started laughing at him as he was confused at my sudden laugh.

“Why are you laughing there, love?” He asked as he pokes my nose while laughing with me.

“You look so strange, looking so in love with me.” I said while locking eyes with him as I caress his hair.

“Is it bad to look like I am in love with you?” He asked as he sneaked his left hand to clasp with mine.

“It is hard to believe that you are in love with me, because it is impossible.” I respond but looking away from him.

He suddenly sits up facing me and touches my cheek, “It is impossible, but I will never deny that I am truly, madly, deeply, in love with you.” He was about to kiss me but suddenly I heard a voice that was saying I should wake up.

“Miss Elyssa, its 7:30 AM dear you need to wake up before you could practice your routine at the ballet room.” I heard the voice again and now I only see pitch black but as I opened my eyes it was so bright and I felt I’m on my bed.

“Thank goodness dear, you’re awake,” the Head Maid said as she motioned the two other maids to give me my breakfast, “Good morning Miss Elyssa!” The first maid cheerfully said as she puts down the bed tray above my legs and I started eating my breakfast.

I packed my things and headed towards the ballet room to start my practice. I needed to clean my steps before the night of the performance or I might fail again. I tied up my ballet shoes and started to do my stretching. While I was stretching, I suddenly remembered my dream. He was the guy that I saw from the studio, but why is he in love with me?

After I stretched out my legs, I headed towards the speaker and played the music piece that I zoned out yesterday. Once the music started, I began my position and gracefully gliding around the room. Recreating the emotions of the protagonist, I freely moved my hands in every Échappé I make, what we call slipping movement or the escaping, and suddenly I twirled around and around and as I felt my cue I swiftly move diagonally on the middle and did my long horizontal jump.

I wished it was true. I really wished it happened. Hoping you would say it, hoping you also love me. My mind tells me as I was about to fall, I felt hands grasping on my waist.

“But it was not only one of your wildest dreams, to be loved by me; it was also my wildest dreams to be loved by you, Maria.” I heard the same husky voice that I heard in my dream as that person puts me down with care and we created the Penché, which I bent forward my right leg with the other well above in 90 degrees, and as I faced the person who was assisting me, It was him, the mysterious guy I saw in the studio and in my dream.

“Who are you? And what do you mean about what you just said,” I asked full of curiosity since it bothers me to know why he was telling me that we have the same dreams about loving each other.

“I’m sorry, love. I showed early, but you will know tomorrow.” He reassures me as his hand went up to gently hold my cheek.

“I wanted to hug you and to kiss you, but I couldn’t do it. I don’t want to push you to remember everything and to risk your performance.” His green soft eyes darted to mine, so broken but hopeful without a doubt.

“But I do think you are familiar, I just could not process who you were,” I told the mysterious guy as I tucked his loose curly hair on his ear.

“I will be watching you tomorrow. Good luck on your performance, my love, my Maria, and my Luna.” He smiled and put his right hand on my eyes for me not to see what is exactly happening and unexpectedly I felt he kissed my forehead.

“HEY WHAT ARE YOU DOING YOU ARE SUDDENLY TRES—” Surprisingly he was not there anymore. To whoever is that guy, he left this innocent little woman dumbfounded at the ballet room.

-----------

I am currently at the venue of the show with the other dancers and our instructor to rehearse our piece and, to us, to avoid any future incidents since this show will be aired on television and people around the country even the world are anticipated to watch this since the drama was already a trend.

“Alright gather up the stage everyone and try to familiarize every sides and end of it so you could avoid any danger on the performance,” Miss Macy instructed us as we gathered up on the stage that is actually in the middle of a pool.

The stage setting was merely like the drama show of Scarlet Heart and since it started on the lake we created a pavilion pool-like stage for the performance, although the stage is quite big but in each side it is possible for any of us to fall.

“Hey Elyssa,” Someone called me and as I turned around it was my partner in the performance, Joshua Calum Scott. “You might forget your medicine otherwise you might be nauseous while performing again,” He gave me my medicine organizer and I smiled in returned.

“Thanks Joshua,” I drank up the pills with water and sighed. “I just don’t get it, why do I need to take these pills if I am constantly performing in the middle of the water.”

“It is to make you calm, since you feared to fall on water.” He answered and patted my back.

“Yeah I am aware of that but I clearly remembered I was on an accident but I couldn’t picture what kind of accident and what happened,” I sighed for the nth time and looked at my reflection on the pool.

“It is best if you would not try to remember the accident, it might trigger you more,” Joshua went beside me looking my reflection at the pool. “Besides we don’t want you to be rushed again to the hospital any minute now, aye. We are going to perform tomorrow as one of the biggest show in the country.”

“Yes I will not bother to remember it; I will focus on the show because it is our one biggest opportunity,” I smiled at him.

“That’s my Elyssa.” He smiled back and afterwards Instructor Macy called us to change our outfits and start rehearsing.

-----------

“Thanks for everything my wonderful dancers, see you all tomorrow,” Instructor Macy blew a kiss good bye to us all although she stopped in her tracks and faces us again, “Don’t forget your outfits, get it on our tailor at Poppy Sew and Tailors shop.”

“Yes Miss Macy, we won’t forget it, see you tomorrow!” I smiled at her and waved goodbye, as I was supposed to carry my gym bag then suddenly somebody cheekily snatched it away from me.

“Hey! Calum that’s not cool,” I playfully shouted at him and tried to grab the bag from him but he still won’t give it back.

“I insist, Elyssa. You will be going to the tailor’s shop today right?” He laughed and asked me directly as I replied him with a nod, “Yes I will be going why?”

“Then let’s go together,” He grabbed my hand and hurriedly went out of the venue. As my driver arrived, Joshua opened the door and I went inside first as he went in after, as I told the driver to go to the tailor shop.

“Welcome to Poppy Sew and Tailors! How may I help you both lovebirds?” The lady cashier asked as me and Joshua just went inside the shop. The shop is actually big since it displayed many dress and costumes for stage plays and can be used at a formal party as well.

“Oh no, we’re not a couple!” I blushed and shyly gestured her no as I saw Joshua was just laughing at the corner. “We are just here to get our costumes for our tomorrow’s performance.”

“Ah yes, for tomorrow’s show by Instructor Macy. Come this way Milady,” The lady from the cashier gestured me to follow her as I followed but she stopped Joshua before entering the dressing room.

“You will be heading to the other dressing room, assisted by the man over there.” I looked at Joshua, waved goodbye to him, and I went inside the dressing room.

“Here you go,” The lady helped me get on the ballet dress that was designed for the performance tomorrow.

“It fits you so perfectly, milady.” The lady said as I looked at the mirror, the dress is in an off-shoulder form as it hugs my top so perfectly. The bottom is a flowy dressed tutu in color red with gold stripes same goes with the top.

“You really do look like her, dear,” The lady whispered in my ear and looks me in the mirror with all seriousness.

“What do you mean?” I asked since I am confused as well.

“She was once a young girl who was hoping to be loved back by the man from her wildest dream,” The lady started as she was rummaging in the basket that was placed in a small coffee table beside from where I was standing at the mirror.

“And now her memories were vanished because of a sudden accident that left her a scar inside her most treasured memory.” The lady went to me and handed a rose necklace, “You might remember this necklace, dear.”

As I hold to looked at the necklace carefully, my head starts to ache. “Ahh my head hurts, can you please give me my pills!” I screamed as my head was still aching, I suddenly sat down on the ground, holding my head while crying out loud from the pain I was feeling.

“I won’t give it to you, you need to remember it my dear.” The lady said as she was fading in my vision until I suddenly lost conscious.

“Dance for me, love!” He pleaded with his puppy eyes as he dragged me in the middle of a pavilion, full of candle lights.

“Alright, I will. For your eyes only, curly boy,” I cheekily said and laughed as I slipped off from his grasp going through the middle of the made stage.

As I positioned, he played a song from his phone. I closed my eyes and started to feel the music. I started interpreting the song as I felt the hopeful emotions by swiftly moving from the left going mid towards him and stopped by creating an Arabasque, where my body is supported one leg with the other leg extended behind my body in a straight knee. Then I continued in gliding effortlessly backwards with my hand positioning at the front while I’m looking down. I was dancing freely with the uttermost emotional steps until I felt the cue of the song, I gracefully changed into the Attitude position, standing in one leg while the other is lifted and well turned out with the knee bent as my hands and my head are facing upward, not until I felt two sneaky hands grabbed my waist and unexpectedly lift me over, placing me on his other side for me to face him.

“You are such an art, Maria.” He was taking breaths as he caresses his left hand on my cheek, looking me deeply in the eyes with admiration.

I cupped his cheeks and without hesitation I kissed him under the night sky. I was expecting for him to push me away but he didn’t, he reciprocated it. We pulled away after a minute and just looking at each other, smiling.

“I have a surprise for you and you ruined it for me again,” He acted angrily as he placed his arms in his biceps in a cross position and pouted as I laughed at him.

“I’m sorry, love. I didn’t know. You just let me dance and I just really wanted to kiss you since I was carried away from my dancing,” I placed my arms on his neck and tip-toed to kiss his nose.

“Okay, I forgive you but close your eyes first,” He smiled a little and I gave him a what-is-that-look and he insisted as I obliged to do his request. I felt a cold thin metal made contact with my skin as I heard he had locked it already at the back of my neck.

“Now open your eyes, love.” He said excitedly as I opened my eyes I saw him smiling and I immediately looked down to my neck and saw a red rose pendant.

“Harry, you’re such a sweetie plum! I — I don’t know what to say.” I began to tear up as he immediately hugged me.

“Remembered what I told you the last time,” He started as I felt his tears began to fall. “I truly, madly, deeply, am in love with you Maria and this necklace will prove the countless years I have been waiting for you.”

----------

“Maria…” I heard a voice that was calling my name until I opened my eyes and saw I was on my bed.

“Elyssa, our darling,” I was suddenly hugged by my mother and I tried to process where I am until I realized that I’m back on our house.

“Are you alright? Are you hurt? I don’t want you to forget us, dear. Please speak,” My mother cracked up worriedly as she inspects my arms and my face.

“Yes mom, I’m alright. It’s just that my head hurts a while ago.” I was about to scratch my head but I felt my hand was holding onto something metal.

“Good to know, you need to take some rest dear. Tomorrow is the performance and you must be feeling fine,” My mom sighed in relief as she rubs my right arm as a sign of comfort.

“Yes mom, thank you. Goodnight! Send my greetings to daddy,” I told her as she kissed my cheek and told me goodnight as well and left my room.

I opened the lamp on my nightstand and looked at the thin metal that I was holding on my hand. I was surprise because I still have the golden necklace with the rose pendant that I saw on the tailor’s shop and on my dream.

“Maria…” I heard a voice at the balcony then suddenly the wind opened the doors towards the balcony. I began to go to towards the balcony until I felt something in my foot, it was a letter. I picked it up and it was in a white envelope, my first name written in gold ink as I opened it beside my nightstand.

Dear Maria,

I know you were confused and hurt a while ago, but that is a part of your memory that you have forgotten. If you want to know me and why I’ve been showing up to you in your dreams and in reality. Meet me before the performance at the pavilion where you danced on your latest dream. I will be lighting up candles so you would recognize it easily. Stay safe and see you there, my Luna.

Love,

Harry

To whoever you are, I hope you could answer these unwanted questions that I wanted to know. I wanted to know why you are connected to me and why are you in love with me.

--------

Today is the day of the performance; everyone was busy prepping up for the costumes and makeup as I am nervously waiting for my hair to be finished so I could sneak out and go to the pavilion. The pavilion that was stated on the letter was located here at the show’s venue.

“Here you go, sweetie. You are good to go,” My hairstylist told me as I smiled and told her my thanks. I stand up and went out the dressing room and out of the stage. I searched for the pavilion that I saw on my dream until I bumped into someone.

“Oops, I’m sorry I didn’t loo— Joshua?” I asked and he looked at me surprisingly.

“Oh hey uhm Elyssa, It’s alright I can pick it up but where are you going?” Joshua asked confused why I am out of the dressing room as I helped him picked up all the props that will be used in the performance.

“I…forgot my other accessories for the performance at the car, I’ll be back don’t worry,” I nervously laughed and waved at him, “See you later.”

I scurried off to the path that looks familiar to me until I spotted some willow trees that are serving as a landmark to the pathway of the pavilion. It almost looks like an entrance to another world. I entered the pathway and to my surprise I saw steps of tiles going through the pavilion. In each step there are candles lighted up and as I reached the pavilion, I saw the mysterious guy who I met in my dreams.

“Hi Harry,” I greeted the mysterious guy as he was startled; he turned around to face my direction.

“Hi Maria, I didn’t expect you would come,” He started and looked at the necklace that I was holding, “I know you are confused right now but you need to know it right now.”

“I am and I have so many questions about who you really are and—“I was interrupted as he placed his finger onto my lips.

“I know, Maria. Just trust me on this one. Wear the necklace that I gave you and hold on to my hand,” He instructed me as I obliged by wearing the necklace and holding his hand.

“Do you trust me?” He asked with hopes in his eyes as I nod in approval. He took me to the part of the pavilion where there is no grip bars and to my surprise it’s a waterfall.

“Okay, don’t let go of my hand. In 3, 2, 1,” As our hands intertwined, he pulled me in a back hug as we fell onto the lake of the pavilion. I saw my necklace began to glow as I suddenly lost conscious.

----------

“Love, wake up.” I heard a mumbled sound as I opened my eyes, I saw Harry in front of me.

“Where are we?” I asked as I lift myself up to stand. I looked at our surroundings and realized that we are at the entrance of a cave.

“This is where we met,” Harry assisted me to stand while looking at me with all sincerity. I started to walk and feel the sea breeze of the cave as I stepped out of it and saw a beautiful white sand beach.

“What did we do here?” I asked as I forgot that we were still holding hands. We stopped in our tracks as he faced me and put his other hand on my shoulder.

“This is what we do,” Unexpectedly Harry kissed my forehead and my head started to throb from the pain.

I started running from the cave until I went out on a beautiful white sand beach.

“Where am I? But this place looks so breathtaking!” I run towards the water and started to feel the cold salty breeze of this place.

“It looks so serene and relaxing,” I walked at the shore and started to wander around the beach until I spotted a person which I presumed it was a guy, who was suddenly running towards me.

“Get out of the way!” He shouted as I put a brow up and shouted back, “Why would I?!”

“It’s the jellyfish hour already. You might want to get out of there,” He smiled and walked away as I looked at the water there are many jellyfishes.

And the memory fades as I looked at Harry, “Seriously, we met because I was just wandering around and walking at the shore at a jellyfish hour?” I asked and Harry started to laugh and nod.

“Yes, love. And if it wasn’t for me, you might get sting by the jellyfishes. In other words, I saved your life.” Harry proudly told me and I just playfully slapped his shoulder with my other hand.

“Hey what was that for?” He complained and I just laughed.

“Nothing you arrogant cheeky bastard!” I continued to laugh as he just smirked beside me.

“But what happened, how do we become close?” I curiously asked the guy beside me as we stopped in front of a little stage.

“It was a complicated story but you went to the past,” He told me as I was shocked from his reply.

“What?! So in short I went to the past by accident?” I asked and he nodded.

“I’m Christian Harry Smith, one of the famous painter and a poet. This place is where I usually get my inspiration and it also serves as my breather until you came,” He looked at me lowering his height so we could be in the same level. “Close your eyes,” He continued.

I followed him as I suddenly felt he kissed both my left and right eye then unexpectedly my head did not start to throb but as I opened my eyes, I saw outline fragments of me and Harry laughing, chasing around, and just sitting looking at the scenery of the beach.

“You told me every little detail about your life like how you love dancing, you have been living alone and your parents doesn’t know how it affects you, and…” He stopped and I looked at him.

“And what?” I asked as we sat on a huge rock.

“And that you liked someone but you got rejected. That explains you are guarding your walls up from the start,” He said and just looked away focusing his attention in front of us.

“Elyssa,” Harry called as he sat beside me and I looked at him.

“Yes curly?” I asked and laughed while he just rolled his eyes at me.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you this question since you have been avoiding this topic when we attended the ball,” He said as I gave him a nod to continue. “What do you think of love?”

“Love is meaningless? I mean it is affection where you would feel onto someone who had changed you,” I told Harry as I looked away from him.

“Have you been in love?” Surprisingly Harry asked me as I sighed.

“Yes I had. I was in love but it was not reciprocated,” I said with all bravery but I need to hide the truth. I am actually in love with Harry but if I will tell him, something will happen as what the lady told me at the ball.

“I’m sorry for that though.”

“No its no biggie. It’s just hard to accept a new love for me again since that happened,” I nervously laughed and looked at him.

“Why? Does curly have somebody in mind?” I annoyingly asked him as I saw him blushed then sighed.

“Let’s just say, if that person is ready, then I will be.” He gave me a hopeful smile.

“Who was that person you were pertaining to?” I asked Harry as we were still sitting at the huge rock and the scenery in front of us is the sun is setting.

“Obviously it was you,” Harry told me as I looked to his eyes broken like a glass.

“But do you know the true reason why I don’t want to talk about love?” I asked him as he confusingly looked at me.

“It was because of there was this lady who told me that once each of us confesses our feelings there’s something bad that will happen,” I looked down on my knee.

“I was actually going to confess that day but I didn’t want something to happen but we still manage to tell that we love each other, right?” And I looked at him with hope in my teary eyes.

“And those were the best days of my life, even if you took the first move!” He pouted and did that crossing arms again when he’s being grouchy.

“I love you curly,” I surprisingly gave him a quick peck on his lips and his eyes was turned happy.

“You are full of surprises, love.” He smiled as I smirked at him and I was given a quick peck by the cheeky bastard himself.

“Thank you for letting me remember but there is still one last thing,” I was about to ask him about how did I forget my memories with him until somebody grabbed my neck.

“Enough with this nonsense, Smith!” Joshua angrily said to Harry as I was struggling from the straggle of his arms.

“Joshua what are you doing here?!” I asked furiously and trying to remove his grip from my neck.

“I was saving you from this leech! You should not be here, Elyssa,” Joshua said as we are going closer to the bridge beside the rock that me and Harry was sitting a while ago.

As me and Joshua reached the end of the bridge, I saw a deep black hole. We faced to Harry as Joshua tightens his grip towards my neck.

“Joshua let Maria go,” Harry calmly told Joshua as Harry placed his left hand in front us pertaining he is harmless and doesn’t want to fight.

“What if I don’t?” Joshua evilly smirked and looked at me. “Do you know what happened to your memories and how it vanished?” He asked me and I shake my head.

“Then see it for yourself,” Joshua smirked and blew my eyes as I started to see a fragment memory.

Harry was in front of me as I was walking backwards through the bridge.

“Harry what are you doing?!” I shouted as I continue to walk backwards until I felt that I almost fell at the end of the bridge so I halt into a stop.

“I had enough of your delusions. I didn’t love you, I was just using you. Didn’t you notice that,” Harry was walking in front of me as he was already half a meter distance towards me.

“No that’s not true, you told me you are! What is happening to you Harry?” I fought back as he suddenly holds my right arm until he pushed. I fell from the bridge and suddenly lost conscious.

I teared up and looked at Harry as he was shouting to me, “Don’t believe him, Maria! He was only brainwashing you!”

“Would you believe this guy, telling you that you shouldn’t believe me but I was there since then to take care of you,” He stops straggling me as I kept tearing up.

“Maria, the truth is I do really love you. Why would I cross worlds, why would I be reincarnating again if it wasn’t for my love for you? I would not search for you in your world just to be with you again,” Harry kneeled down crying in front of us as I looked at him.

“The truth is, I and Joshua were fighting at the bridge because he wanted you, and he wanted us to be separated. But as you went to us here in this bridge, Joshua suddenly pushed you through the end of the bridge as you fell down the deep rocky waters.” Harry looked at me with all sincerity. I looked back at Joshua as I hugged him.

“Thank you for telling me the truth, Joshua.” Joshua was startled as I hugged him but suddenly I looked up at him and said, “But then again, I’m not someone who could believe you so easily.”

I pushed him at the end of the bridge and he fell through the black hole as I run through Harry and hugged him.

“I almost lost you,” He was so scared while hugging me and I hugged him tighter.

“You thought I would believe him, huh?” I laughed while I’m still in tears as he nodded and smiled.

“I almost lost you too, I’m sorry love.” I looked at him tearing up again as he cupped my face and said, “I love you.” And he passionately kissed me.

“Let’s run back together, you need to finish your performance.” He said as he stands up and lends me a hand. We run back together to the cave but I told him to stop first.

“What is it?” Harry asked as I pushed him to the wall of the cave.

“Since this is where we met then let’s make this our unforgettable moment,” I kissed him under the night sky for the last time I’m here at his world. Fate really is crazy but I am glad that I met this guy in an unexpected way, in our wildest dreams.

[rhiminee]

FAV LIVE PERFORMANCES 2017

Here it is! Finally!!!! My favorite David performances of the year!!!!

This year was harder because there was so much new music that came out and David toured quite a bit so there was an abundance of stellar material to choose from. I know there are very few people as crazy as me that are gonna watch every video on this list but if you’ve not had a chance to catch many performances this year, this is a nice place to start and do a bit of browsing. It’s guaranteed all quality ;p

P.S. There are way more great videos than just what’s here. I had to narrow down so much just to get a top 20. It was torture getting a top 12. Each made the cut for different reasons but all of them made me FEEL. 

ORIGINAL MUSIC

Up All Night  This gorgeousness. It has the distinction of offering amazing audio quality given the fact it was recorded in a studio-like setting so we’re not depending on someone’s phone camera for the sound. I’m not ripping on fan cams, just saying that clearly this is optimal. ha.  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NJRt_zv9L7Y

Someone To Love The funky groooooove of this song! So good. So so good. This comes from the Nashville show, which was i n c r e d i b l e. He does this smooth growl sliding vocal thing here that really just slays me. Bless. Also that pause at “jumpstart” is 100% kickass.  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oIuyNJuXj04

Other Things in Sight Second Nashville video in a row! I didn’t plan it that way, that’s just how the chips fell. This song. You guys this song and performance is sasschuleta at his divalicious best. I adore everything about it. The little hands on the hips at 2:30 even I’m dying. This is David 2.0 hello. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fbJZau1gHJE

       Bonus: OTIS acoustic        So technically this is kinda cheating but it’s my list so I do what I want. And the vocal on this (from David’s EP launch live on Facebook) is ridiculously good. I was gonna leave it off the list but it just wouldn’t let me. I get chills everytime I listen. He does mess up the lyric in one spot toward the end, which is why I have it as my secondary OTIS choice, but honestly I’m not even mad because something has to show us he’s human. Because damn sure that vocal is perfection, complete and total. I wanna bathe in it. LEGIT.        https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jCl93lWzHx4

Parachutes and Thunder There are no words for how surprised I was that David started covering Thunder by Imagine Dragons at his shows this fall. And he absolutely kills it. This boy can seriously embody a song and he does that. The best part is that he ties it into one of his own amazing songs (Parachutes & Airplanes) and I dare you to try and watch this without a huge smile on your face. Truly this is one of my favorite surprises of 2017. This specific video is from the Salt Lake City show and hearing and seeing the enthusiasm of the crowd just makes it even better. This video is 100000% love. He claps! He stomps! He spins!!!! He pulls the crowd in no matter what, they can’t help but be energized by his absolute conviction in delivering this song. I. LOVE. HIM. Honestly there is no one like him. Also he is pretty. Bonus. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c1QUYYsctvc

Numb Ok I’m gonna be real and say this one caught me by surprise. Until today I had no idea Numb would be included on this post. Then I stumbled across this video and was fully blown away. Who sings like thiiiiiissssssssss. David Freaking Archuleta, that’s who. This is from a morning tv show appearance in Nashville. I was traveling when it happened (to Nashville lol) so I totally missed appreciating it until now. For some perspective, he was coming off 4 nights in a row of concerts and driving half the night between each venue after the shows and being a bit sick at the start of that week. He had been on vocal rest between shows to try and save himself for the grueling schedule. So he got done with his show in KC the night before and flew into Nashville the next morning and did this and then had his Nashville show the next night. This boy has a magic voice, that is all. It’s so soulful and heartfelt and strong. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yN-VQ8RXFKs

Crush Iconic. This song experienced a bit of renaissance this year and part of it was because of the amazing rendition David did in this video. During his visit to the Philippines this piece of magic happened.  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TC4Brtznsb0

Broken This song doesn’t get lots of attention but honestly it’s one of the most melodically lovely pieces of music. This performance from the L.A. show is stellar. Some of those notes David hits. Wow boy. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FnVKVWt3u9k

COVERS

Fast Car Ok. Ok ok ok ok ok. This kills me. This is so good. From the Seattle VIP. First you have to know I adore this song. But David singing it is almost more than I can stand. There are no huge showy power notes here or stomping or dancing but it is quietly one of the most startling and moving performances of the year. I am beyond moved. I am reminded of the lyrics of “Killing me softly” when I watch this video. I heard he sang a good song, I heard he had a style, And so I came to see him, to listen for a while, And there he was, this young boy, a stranger to my eyes, Strumming my pain with his fingers Singing my life with his words Killing me softly with his song Killing me softly with his song Telling my whole life with his words Killing me softly with his song. Yes. That’s this performance. That exactly. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eBgz8ajtTdw

Higher Ground This has only gotten better and better since David first covered it at Tuacahn last year. Honestly I thought it couldn’t get better but I was so wrong. So happily wrong. I can’t even understand the leaps and bounds that David’s confidence and performing abilities have taken. He just totally owns the stage and the audience and the song. Watch and appreciate. Make sure you keep it on through the band intros. You’ll thank me. And then that absolute WAILING at the end holy crap I cannot even. This is another SLC show gem.  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FWpbh7Nt398

Beautiful / Scars to Your Beautiful Scars to Your Beautiful is totally a David song. Totally. I love love love the way he sings this. From the L.A. show, the crowd reaction is fab too. The second half of the video especially is just A++++ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LryGqAIisog

Forevermore Another surprise entry but it’s just so gorgeous that I can’t leave it off this year’s list. David’s voice is divine here, I’m fully enchanted. Just watch. I promise you won’t regret it. Pure musical bliss. This is our third entry from the Nashville concert! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jrbgT6tMHWI

You Are My Song “oh my god it's amazing” actual comment to this video on Youtube and I really can’t describe it any better. This duet from David’s trip to Manila is stellar. Don’t overlook it just because you don’t know the song. It’s such a gorgeous love song and the way David sings it here I am knocked over. Tippy dos Santos is a wonderful duet partner too and I cannot stop smiling while watching. This is awesome. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g9Vc94sN3bg

BUT WAIT! WE HAVE AN EXTRA BONUS BONUS. lol I thought I was done but then realized I needed to include this last video because yes. David performing Nandito Ako at his first concert back in the Philippines in over 6 years. David has a special connection with the Philippines and the fans there and they love him in such an unrestrained way and to see his very real very strong reaction to that love when he sang Nandito Ako is a true thing of beauty. You can see David’s surprise at how the emotion caught him and the tears made it difficult to sing and you hear the crowd’s support and love of him throughout. He said he didn’t know if he would still have fans there after so long away. They said don’t doubt us. And here is the culmination. A thoroughly lovely note to end this list on. <3 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7xOWtAS2YS8

These are some of my favorite musical moments of 2017. There are many more but really how long can I make this list???? It’s already probably about 8 songs too long for most people. ha. It took way too long to make this post and I’m sorry it’s late and the descriptions could be better but it’s 2:45 am on January 1st 2018 and all good things must come to an end. If you read this far, I love you. And I can’t wait to see what David brings us this year. Kisses to all y’all!!!

[moonraccoon-exe]

There’s a New Story

Second part of ‘Another Story’, writer Gladiolus Amicitia x radio broadcaster Ignis Scientia, under request of its readers.  ❤

This one goes for Elephant Anon and their kind and sweet way of asking, to @blossattic and to @asoeiki; the three, each in private by separate, expressed interest in knowing Ignis’ point of view of the story, and gave a few ideas, so here it is. Thank you all <3

I hope this is worth the wait. You all received the story so kindly and sweetly, I hope to not disappoint. :)

An apology for those that dislike long fanfics. I tried shortening, but.... ヽ(´ー` )┌  ???

I hope you enjoy!! ( ´ ▽ ` )♡

[Adding a Keep Reading]

‘There’s a new story’.

Four words. It can take only four words for Ignis to feel something behind the lungs light up and grow, like a gentle flame. His chest swells, unable to contain the size of his heart at its excitement, his chin raises, his knees tremble, and his expression transforms into what his coworkers have started to call his ‘alive face’. Which is not far from his reality; every time they give him the news, he feels something inside him come to life. Not in the sense of breathing, rather in that of…existing. Of being.

It feels like receiving the sun on the face and the skin after a particularly long winter. He was already alive, and not at all in the dark, but he’s suddenly embraced by warmth and his inside grows illuminated with a new light, brighter without being blinding, warmer without burning. And it makes him feel so…peaceful.

And there he goes, like a speeding bullet, child-like eyes and smile on his face, straight to the director’s office while his friends laugh at the way he’s so obviously, and so innocently, in love.  

Ignis is not sure of why they asked him to read that first novel sent by that anonymous author. One day, one of the audio engineers had approached him and had told him that the director of the night storytelling program requested for him to read an entry that came in the previous day, but it was fine if he refused.

He agreed for curiosity. Unaware that he would stay for falling in love with the writing he held in hands.

This author, hidden under a nickname, touched into Ignis’ heart ever since the first story they sent it. Eight pages. It took this author eight pages to put Ignis into shock and trembling knees.

Ignis was given a day to give it a complete read before the live stream. At first it had been nothing; four pages went by and it was only an entertaining story that made him smile slightly but nothing else. And it took one paragraph to make the smile fade away, the heart to suddenly grow twice and hence feel heavier inside him, and the mind to start furiously working. It had not been any plot-twist in the story; it was only the way the writer had with words…a deep and thoughtful philosophy inserted across the entire subtext and the text itself, something that suddenly turned a pretty but ordinary painting into something new and extraordinary.

It is not in his contract to do the story reading of the night program; he agreed for curiosity and as a favor. But he ended up asking to be told in case the same author sent another story in.

It was very possible that it would not happen; the people writing for the radio tend to send only one story, and after it’s accepted and read, they disappear, as if though they are pleased enough with only that and their writing for the radio ends there.

But not this author.

And the gods bless, not this author.

‘There’s a new story, Ignis!’

It was the same audio engineer who approached him with the happy news, and Ignis could not help but smile and thank her, before curiosity led him through the hallways of the studio until he ended up at the door of the director of the night storytelling program. He had tried to go away and convince himself that he could simply turn on the radio on his way home to listen to it being read by the usual narrator. He tried. But he ended up knocking on the door.

And the gods bless he did.

Ignis asked to be allowed to read it before the usual narrator would take it home to give it a first read.

And he was left in awe again. Heart beating fast and heavy, again. Head throbbing slightly, lungs growing and skin sensitive. Again. This new story sent by that anonymous author was similar but different to the first one; both were in the romance genre, but both treated much more different universes, different scenarios, different flows. It was clear the style was the same, there was no mistaking this was the same writer, but there were still differences; like two paintings made by the same artist, where the brushing is the same, but the color palette is entirely different.

The way this author had with words…it was something Ignis had never experienced before. Reading him, it made Ignis feel…so light. So ethereal. It was a sensation as if though his muscles and bones turned half the heavy. Like a petal on calm water. Precisely like that.

So Ignis, failing to control himself once more, ended up asking permission to read this for the live stream.

‘This is not in your contract’, they told him, ‘we cannot pay you even if we wanted.’

Like money was what Ignis was interested in.

‘Please’, he replied, bowing the head in a last attempt of showing how desperately much he wanted to do this, ‘I will do it for free’.

Ignis did that second story-reading like the first one; giving his best like never before. Exercising jaw and lips for perfect diction, drinking coffee enough to stay awake and on full senses, and hence on full potential for his voice not to go hoarse or dry or weak during the reading, and letting himself go with the story’s flow.

And then a third story came in. And then a fourth, and then a fifth.

And every time that Ignis was told there was a new story, he rushed to the director’s office to plead for the chair at the night storytelling program.

And he still does.

It’s usual by now, almost a routine except with no precise or specified times. Ignis waits, both patiently and eagerly at the same time. Days go by, sometimes a few, sometimes some more. And then somebody brings the news; the audio engineer, one of his coworkers, some other broadcaster, the director himself, sometimes even the official storyteller.

“There’s a new story!”

Most of times they accompany those words with his name at the end. Only that is enough for everyone to know what’s happening; Ignis’ passion for this writer’s work is known all across the studio. Nobody needs to ask what’s happening or what’s special about a new story coming in when they hear Ignis’ name. ‘Of course’, he once heard in the hallways, ‘it’s the new kid’s obsession for that anon writer that’s been sending stuff like crazy’.

‘New kid’, excuse him, he has a year and half in the radio station, ‘obsession’, well, maybe, and ‘crazy’ is not a way to describe this author. Ignis would rather use words such as…wonderful, fantastic, amazing, great. Beautiful. Stunning.

Inspiring. And romantic. Oh, so dearly, so sincerely, so passionately romantic…

Whoever this author is, they have the most wonderful, most sincere, and most pure vision of love that Ignis has ever known from somebody. The way the author expresses it through the subtext, through the dialogues, through the metaphors, through the characters themselves…

Whoever this author is…their vision of love is the most beautiful Ignis has ever read about.

It’s impossible to read fully into this person’s vision of love without feeling it.

Ignis knows himself stupid for this. He knows the author is only writing because it’s their passion; he has no reasons to believe this personal, and he knows that feeling this great, enormous admiration and some kind of platonic love for this author is ridiculous. All that Ignis knows about them is their literature, they have never spoken face to face.

But then again, what is art if not that?

Art is, to Ignis, just that; the art piece, if well done, is the entire soul of the artist, entirely nude and open to be seen as it is, expressed in colors or sounds or, in this case, words. And this author…oh, this author has the most beautiful of souls Ignis has ever known about.

Somebody with the most sincere and beautiful vision of love,  with a soul so sensitive, so passionate, and so great that Ignis can close the eyes and stretch a hand ahead and almost physically feel it against his fingertips…

It feels like grass under the feet, like soaked earth in the hands and through the fingers, like caressing a tree. It feels like red and green, it smells like rain and ground, and it feels…the way this literature makes Ignis feels…it’s like being hugged, but it’s not physical. It’s like being held, but there’s no one there.

It’s like the author writes for him.

All the stories he has written, all has Ignis read and narrated, and all feel like a part of himself while also belonging to somebody else. It’s something Ignis has never experienced before; he has read beautiful books, wonderful poems, amazing words, but never something that felt so real, never something that wrapped around him like this. It’s like, when he reads this author’s work, he’s put on the softest flower, made of cotton maybe, and the petals, made of ethereal and colored silk, close around him to cover him and create his own little, comfortable, and safe fantasy shelter. And it’s not the story itself; it’s its most abstract side, the aura around the work, it’s something about its colors and the sensations that it makes blossom inside Ignis what make this the most fascinating he’s ever had in his life.

Even all these months later, even all these manuscripts later, Ignis has never once been disappointed by the stories this author sends in. If anything, every story does but fascinate him even more, drag him further into the fantastic garden, pull him much deeper in love.

And every time there’s a new story, every time Ignis asks to be allowed to narrate it. Every time, Ignis takes it home to give it the first read. Every time, Ignis marks the usual marks for a correct narrating, where to pause, where to lower the voice, where to particularly breathe.

But Ignis also marks his personal marks. The ones they don’t teach at school. The ones that don’t point anything about narrating.

He marks his favorite passages. He marks his favorite paragraphs, if he can, because sometimes he ends up marking the entire manuscript. He marks his favorite sentences, his favorite words, the words he doesn’t know, the sentences that fascinate him most, the prettiest sentences either visually or phonetically. He may mark the most romantic dialogue. He may sigh and say it aloud, eyes closed, to feel it in his mouth. He may press the pages to his chest, long and tight, long and soft, long and loving. Captivated. Enamored.

Ignis draws little flowers at the corners sometimes, or vines falling across the blank spaces of the borders, because this literature and this author feel like flowers and nature. 

And he arrives to the night storytelling with the pages like that; drawn on, marked, turned completely into something his and only his. And all his friends notice the one thing long before him. And he mistakes the one thing for passion for the writer’s work.

And then figures it with one of the new stories.

 Like usual, Ignis takes it home with himself for a first read. The latest works the author has sent are particularly long, and the gods bless them. Ignis has grown so captivated by his literature that the more he receives the happier and more satisfied he feels. 

At first, a few people of the studio stayed with him during his reading. The director, a few engineers. Until the stories turned into short novels, and it was too late, too past the work shift, and nobody could or wanted to stay any longer.

Except for Ignis. Ignis, who was told to not read these stories due to length and time, and Ignis, who convinced and pleaded and basically begged the director to let him narrate them, promising to clean afterwards, to put everything in its place, to be in charge of going off-air and setting the programmed music afterwards, Ignis, who promised to be in charge of the entire building at night only to be allowed to keep streaming these novels, to continue reading them, despite being left alone for hours.

Ignis doesn’t mind. Has never minded. The stories consume him so dearly he doesn’t care how long he spends there, or what silly tasks they request from him before he gets to go home, as long as he gets to stay there, only him, the headphones, the microphone, the literature in his hands, and the author’s presence at his side. Because, oh, the author puts so much of themselves in their work that reading it brings them to life until it’s almost a physical sensation. And Ignis adores it; adores the warmth that emanates from them, adores the sensation of almost embrace that rounds him. Adores feeling this soul so present, so nearby him. It’s beautiful and he can never get enough of it.

That night, Ignis sits at the microphone like usual, prepared to read. There are a couple stains on the papers from his first read, that thankfully did not smear the ink. It was fascinating how much this author got him to cry out with only one tragedy, the first he sends. When Ignis read it at his apartment, alone, and with the intimacy that always accompanied this author’s work, Ignis ended up crying and reading through impossibly blurry eyes. He continued to read despite the tears, and by the last paragraph, his tears turned into sobbing, until he put the papers at a side, hid the face in his arms on his desk, and let himself cry out as if though the love of his life had died in his arms while he watched, until he emptied himself.

He thinks himself prepared. He already read it, so while it may bring tears to his eyes reviving such a wonderfully written tragedy, it’s not going to be as bad as it was when he read it home.

So Ignis sits. Awaits for his signal, pays attention in the headphones for the moment commercials are over so he can make his entrance. And he does. He greets the night public. He wonders how many people are listening as he speaks; this author deserves all Eos to pay attention. And those who miss his literature, oh, unfortunate souls that won’t get a glimpse of that wonderful universe that’s this writer’s mind.

And Ignis starts reading. He reins in the necessity to smile because smiles can be felt through the microphone and the story still asks not for that. He tries to remain solemn, despite his urgency to smile because he’s holding a treasure in hands and he’s bringing it to life. It’s beautiful as it is; this artwork is a gem on its own and cannot be more perfect than it is, and all that Ignis does is to work as a medium to share it, not to perfection it. It’s not possible.

And he continues to read. Narrates. Stops where he has to, breathes where he marked, dramatizes the dialogues, his thumb silently caresses the flowers he drew on the corner. 

And he goes on until the staff is yawning. Until a few leave at the marked hour of the end of work shift, until a couple who stayed some extra minutes start taking their leave, until the director, two hours later, leaves as well. Until he’s left entirely alone in the building, except maybe for one security guard at the main door.  

The work continues and Ignis lets himself be engulfed by the wonderful sensation it always brings to him to read for this author. Because he’s reading for this author; if his family or friends are listening, if somebody or anybody is listening, he doesn’t care, so long the writer is. Ignis doesn’t care whether he has public or not, he doesn’t care he’s working for free, he doesn’t care what others think of him, so long the author is somewhere out there, maybe at his home, the radio on, maybe coffee in hand, maybe staring through the window, listening.

Maybe the writer is proud of what Ignis is doing and that’s why he keeps sending stuff. Ignis hopes they’re proud; there’s nothing Ignis wishes more to accomplish than the writer’s pride and satisfaction, because it’s the least Ignis can offer after he’s given his jewels of literature. He does his best as if the destiny of the world depends on how great his diction, his projection and his dramatization are.

And then he sees a drop of water fall on the paper.

And he doesn’t understand what it is, until he, taking advantage of a rather long pause before the last paragraphs hit, moves a hand to his face and quietly touches it. And he feels the tears on them; the two soaked paths on his cheeks. His eyelashes, entirely wet. His eyes, drowning, emptying, and repeating all over again.

And Ignis doesn’t understand; he never noticed when he started crying, and all that he knows is that it’s been long enough, because he feels his neck entirely soaked as well.

But he continues to read because he cannot make such a long pause before finishing. He continues with the story and manages for his voice to stay intact despite the tears. He moves the papers in another angle so he makes no sound against the mic and gets to stop soaking them. And he continues. And when he’s about to drop the last word, he feels his voice starting to tremble, and he’s afraid; he’s never felt this brokenhearted before. And it’s not because he’s alone in the studio, it’s simply because it’s like it’s the first time he reads this story.

And, with what feels like his last breath ever, he delivers the last word.

And then, nothing.

Because he’s gone breathless.

His education tells him not to breathe too loudly against the microphone, but his mind is not clear enough to ask him to look away; instead, his instinct is to stop breathing. His eyes continue to cry and he’s unable to blink or stare anywhere else. His mouth is half open and his lower lip is trembling.

The Astrals damn…this literature piece has destroyed him.

He doesn’t necessarily visualize himself within the story. It’s simply his sense of empathy, taken to the extreme, hit in the correct places. This is catharsis in all its splendor; he required of nothing but this author’s beautiful imagination and exquisite way with words to be overwhelmed by emotions. And it’s fascinating how with only words and imagination he can be shattered, because it’s nothing personal, it’s only words on paper, and yet they manage to destroy him without causing any real harm.

And that’s what art is meant to do.

And, while he cries and doesn’t breathe, Ignis realizes it.

He’s in love with this literature, but it’s more than that.

He’s in love with the artist.

He’s not sure how long he stays quiet, only that it’s not meant to happen at a live broadcast. So he forces himself nearby the microphone, but doesn’t have the strength to make any comment as usual; this story touched deep inside him, and the realization of being in love is not helping at all with keeping his emotions at bay.

So he only says a weak ‘Goodnight’, before reaching for the board and going off-air.

Unaware that the writer was listening. Not knowing the writer grew worried. Not knowing the writer is holding the radio and staring at it like it’s a dead pet. Not knowing the writer has misunderstood his silence by exhaustion, and not knowing the writer has been accidentally triggered into overthinking. Overthinking that leads him to believe Ignis is upset, exhausted, and is not enjoying of this dynamic, and starting to make him insecure on this.

And Ignis, on his side, stays hugged to the bunch of papers of a story, letting himself cry while smiling, because the story has made him cry, but he feels so terribly happy, and the story is so tragic, but his life, oh his life feels so full and so alive. Ever since the writer’s arrival to his life. Ever since that first story. And it only grows more alive and brighter every time there’s a new story.

And Ignis goes home happier than any time before, because that’s what love feels like. It makes you dumb and idiotic, and it feels wonderful.  

And then Ignis finds out he was the last one to know he’s in love, and that all his friends knew before him. They tell him how clear it is by the way he’s getting distracted at the discussion table and stares at his cup of coffee like it’s the love of his life except he’s not staring at his cup. By the way he’s been smiling more often. How happier he’s been, how healthier he’s behaving, how much more radiant and conversating he’s turned.

They tell him how clear it is by the way his eyes gleam with such an innocent ‘puppy’ love every time they tell him there’s a new story. By the way he forgets everything else to go pick the papers when they tell him there’s a new story. By the way he so passionately reads the stories, and stares at them. And keeps them. By the way he keeps them all, takes them all home so they don’t turn into recycled paper to doodle on or to make airplanes. By the way he takes care of them like each one is a jewel, collects all in his shelf like a treasure, looks at them like a father looking at the children he had no idea he had and that he so dearly loves with all his heart.

And his friends at the discussion table program for the radio make a friendly comment about it. And he only smiles, and agrees, but thinks that the writer is not listening, so he doesn’t say aloud who’s the receiver of his affection. Not knowing the writer is listening, and believes Ignis out of their reach. 

And then the stories stop coming in.

And there’s not a new story in days.

For a week.

For three weeks.

For two months.

And Ignis spends a little more than two months drowning in guilt and concern. It’s only now, as the stories stopped coming in, that reality hits him like a brick on the face; the writer is not just words that magically appear on paper, the writer is a full and complex human being behind a laptop, spending hours, entire days only to get a story done, and Ignis’ shelf, almost full of their manuscripts, proves how much they’ve been writing, and it makes him have terrible thoughts.

What if the writer got discouraged by Ignis’ silence on the last story he read? Ignis kept quiet for too long and then only bid goodbye with only one word, unlike usual. He had done it because of how overwhelmed by emotions he felt and due to the surprise of the realization of being in love. But Ignis tries putting himself in the place of the writer, and understands how terribly easy it could be to mistake that silence for an insult, disappointment, discontent. What if his silence did but discourage them, and that’s why they have not written?

What if Ignis has caused the most brilliant author of Eos to stop doing what they like, just for a misunderstanding?

Or maybe the writer…simply didn’t like his way of narrating. Maybe his voice is not what the writer is looking for, or expected. Maybe his reading of that novel was not as brilliant. And the writer was disappointed, and decided to stop writing, fearing it would be Ignis again reading something new when maybe they just don’t like his narrating.

And Ignis understands that simply because he had been enjoying of this dynamic doesn’t mean it was something personal. The writer had been writing to themselves, for the joy of writing only, and sent the stories in only to show it to a public. Not Ignis. The writer had not been writing for him. That Ignis had thought that was selfish and so egocentric he cannot help but despise himself for a couple weeks.

That he thought maybe the writer could be writing because of and for him…so selfish. So idiotic.

And still knowing that fact silly, Ignis can’t help but grow sad.

Because he feels he’s in a one-sided love.

And he thinks himself foolish for falling in love with an anonymous writer, and for having thought for so long that this was reciprocate. It feels like falling in love with a singer; only because their songs are romantic and speak with ‘You’ pronouns doesn’t mean it’s directed to him. It’s simply…for the public. Not Ignis. It’s not for Ignis, and it never was.

And despite that, Ignis still asks every day if there’s a new story every day.

At first he doesn’t want to sound desperate or to be a bother, so he asks once across the day. But the days go until they turn into weeks and Ignis starts asking more frequently. And it’s after the third week that he starts asking twice a day; coming through the door, first thing he asks. Exiting at his usual hour, last thing he asks.

“Has a new story come in?”

He doesn’t need to clarify; new stories come in pretty often, but the answer is always No, because they know what he’s looking for. And, no, his writer hasn’t sent anything.

But Ignis continues to ask. Continues to ask everyday despite the disheartening pace of time, asks while the bags under his eyes return, as the unhealthy overdose of coffee returns, as he returns to his usual seriousness that lacks of his child-like smiles and eyes. Asks even though he’s stopped running towards the director’s office. Asks until the hope turns into slight desperation.

And he asks because not asking is like allowing the little flame that the writer lit inside him die, and he’s not willing to let that happen. It’s the most beautiful he’s ever had, and he’s watching it die.

And he’s not sure what he must look like or what the aura around him is, but his friends and coworkers have started offering him to accompany home, start asking him constantly about his health like he’s ill, and they start offering him to read other stories. But Ignis refuses, because it’s not storytelling broadcasting what he misses most. And he refuses because it’s not literature from his writer. And reading something else feels like betrayal. Because if Ignis stayed at the storytelling program, that was to read for his writer and only him. To do that without a purpose, or to do that when he knows his writer is not listening, to do that after believing the dynamic to have been some sort of art exchange and romantic correspondence…he cannot. 

And then there’s a new story. 

It’s the same engineer than first time who lets him know. And when she tells him, Ignis stands there and looks at her without reacting, and she nods at him as if to tell him this is not a joke. And Ignis doesn’t rush to the director’s office; he walks, because he’s afraid of what he’s to find there. And confused. And overwhelmed. And also a little hopeful, because maybe he had overreacted and the writer was only on a small break that he mistook as rejection.

And when the director sees him, she asks him to read it instead of waiting for Ignis to ask her, because that’s how terribly sad everybody has been for Ignis when he stopped receiving the stories, how well everybody in the studio knows how dearly he loves these stories, and how moving it is to see Ignis holding the new bunch of papers like they are the most loved childhood treasure he hasn’t seen in ages.

And Ignis feels stupid, but he can’t help the teary eyes when he sees the new bunch, with a note on top, which reads a small apology from the writer, his gratitude, and it’s signed with his usual nickname.

And Ignis can’t help but grin and feel his entire world turn a thousand times more beautiful than it used to be when he sees a new name, scribbled right after the nickname.

‘Also known as Gladiolus Amicitia’.

And now Ignis has a name. Not only a surname, not only the sensation he can gather from words. He has a name. And it’s something that may seem as simple what makes the previous wait so dearly worth it, because Ignis now has a name, and a name somehow turns everything, all these previous  months, into something real. Something that happened and is happening. It turns the sensations and emotions into a person, a real person of flesh and bones and somewhere out there and he’s real and Ignis is agonizingly in love with him.

Having a name sounds like so little, and yet it can make a man jump on his feet, grin for an entire day, and hug all of his friends out of mere joy, and can make him run enthusiastically across hallways and can make him hug a bunch of papers and can make him the happiest creature on Eos because a name means this all is real, and having a name allows him to hold onto something that isn’t just an idea.

So Ignis takes the story home for the first read, and he has to re-read the first paragraph three, five, seven and fifteen times, because he’s so excited, he’s feeling so eager, and he’s been saying the name of his writer in his mind over and over that he’s not paying attention to what he reads. But he doesn’t want to say it aloud until he’s before the microphone, but he fears to mess up, he fears that his voice trembles when he does, so he, hugged to the latest story, starts whispering it. And it’s shy at first, and scared, as if saying the name aloud can make it escape from his grasp and it’s going to be impossible to catch it again. And then he whispers it again, and repeats until he gains confidence.

And Ignis says the name softly, slowly, until it turns into some sort of spell. Like saying it may make Gladiolus Amicitia appear in front of him. Like saying it may guide him to him. Like saying it can somehow, some way, let Gladiolus Amicitia know that Ignis is thinking about him.

And Ignis is prepared when it’s time for the storytelling program. Presents himself, presents the title, adds a little comment, and starts reading. And he’s never put more effort into a story reading before; he exercised face and voice muscles since he woke up, and he’s as focused as he’s never been before. And as he reads the sensation he missed so dearly returns; the non-physical hug, the hypnotizing of the paragraphs, the way the words somehow make it out of the paper to cup his face.

And Ignis reads with a smile always, always present, because he’s ecstatic and impossibly happy.

And when he finishes reading the story, he calls out the name of the author. And he does it smiling, with the knees trembling, with the heart running wild and almost breaking through his ribcage. And he says it slow, slow and careful, tasting every syllable and every letter, because the name, oh, the name is so beautiful in more than only the phonetic way, and hides the rarest and most beautiful of jewels under itself.

And he ignores the writer is turning the radio off in these moments.

“I am aware this is not the medium to do it” Ignis is saying to the microphone, while his mind embraces the name he has been thinking about non-stop for a day by now, “but I don’t know where or how to find you except like this. Gladiolus, I have been in love with your writing ever since you sent that first story on anonymous. I took this job only to get the chance to keep reading you. And I wished to know if you would honor me with a coffee or anything else you wish someday, now that you’re not only an idea…now that I know your name.”

And ignores that Gladio is lying in bed, trying to force himself to sleep, completely oblivious to Ignis’ invitation.

And Gladio never answers.

But Ignis still asks every day. He asks if there’s a response in the radio station’s e-mail, if he has phoned, if he has sent it in a note. And he continues to ask if, at least, there’s a new story. But there isn’t. And again they have stopped coming in, and again days turn into weeks, and Ignis still asks everyday. Because he can’t stand the idea that this is the last story Gladiolus sent in; he can’t stand the idea that Gladiolus felt so insulted by his invitation that he has stopped sending stories only because of that. He can’t stand the idea of Gladiolus feeling attacked, or repulsed, or disgusted by him.

Ignis would have understood had Gladiolus said no, so the idea that he feels shy to reject him and preferred to disappear drives Ignis crazy. Hopeful that it’s not the case and that Gladiolus is only taking a while to write and send another story, Ignis asks every day. The first thing he asks when he comes through the door, last thing he asks exiting. And he’s asking his friends, and the audio engineer, and the director, but there’s not a new story.

And Ignis has long assumed Gladio doesn’t want to go out with him, and he’s fine about it, until he realizes he’s not fine about it.

Ignis decides that it’s fine if Gladiolus’ feelings for him are not reciprocate, but he can’t stand the idea of a misunderstanding; Ignis can stand the idea of not being loved back, but he can’t stand the idea of Gladiolus thinking him disgusting.

So Ignis decides to apologize.

And to apologize, he has to find him. Because it feels wrong that he knows every bit of Gladiolus’ soul due to how much of it he has poured into his writing, when Gladiolus doesn’t know anything about him except his voice. And Ignis doesn’t want to be only a voice, because he too is a human being of flesh and bones and not only a voice, and he wants to show himself equal to Gladiolus; if Gladiolus allowed Ignis to know he’s not only an idea, Ignis too wants to show him he’s not only an idea either.

And Ignis starts waking up much earlier so his mornings are spent in the search of Gladiolus. And he tries searching for a social media, but finds none, so he tries looking in the Insomnian phone directory, but the phone registered is old and doesn’t work, and Ignis tries asking around but nobody knows about him.

And Ignis spends three days, ten, three weeks and until it turns into a month in the search for Gladiolus.

A month in which Ignis could, step by step and agonizingly slow, gather information enough, having met the acquaintance of an acquaintance of a long list of acquaintances until reaching somebody who may know about Gladiolus, and Ignis tracks all and every person until finding the most precise information he can gather as vague as it is.

And Ignis skips a job day to dedicate himself to the search, and ends up driving to the other side of the city, to park in a public lot because it’s easier to search on feet. So he starts walking in the entirely unknown neighborhood, and he’s not sure where to go, but he walks around.

And Ignis is wondering that maybe Gladiolus is walking past him, maybe he’s the guy with the dog, maybe he’s the man at that stall, maybe they have crossed ways and Ignis did not and will never know. And Ignis is asking the people he encounters in the street if they know Gladiolus Amicitia. He asks the girls, he asks the men, he asks the kids and the elderly, but it’s only a few who can give him any hints. And Ignis follows the instructions, and keeps asking the people he finds, not wasting more than a minute in each conversation before he’s either declined or guided somewhere else.

And he walks and goes on for one, two, three until walking turns into four hours and he’s gotten exhausted. And it starts raining, but Ignis is prevented and carries an umbrella with himself.

So he tries to stay motivated despite the exhaustion and the burning feet and the weakened and trembling legs. And he decides to start heading back to the parking lot, while still asking in the way there. He holds the umbrella and looks around, and he has a hope that he knows is childish and stupid, but cannot contain it, and hopes that maybe when he looks at Gladiolus, he will know it’s him. And maybe…who knows, maybe Gladiolus will know it’s him too.

So Ignis, discouraged with every step, still looks around as he continues to walk. And he’s going slower than usual because he’s scared of reaching the parking lot without having found Gladiolus. And he’s looking around to spot him.

And he’s looking around so much that he doesn’t notice when he almost walks into a man going the opposite direction.

“Sorry” he hears the stranger apologize, and Ignis looks up at him, having to move the umbrella in a different angle because, the gods damn, this man is ridiculously tall. And he’s also so…handsome that Ignis widens the eyes and feels his heart jumping inside him, ignoring it’s telling him something, because he’s focusing in this man’s looks. Besides tall, he’s physically tough, and his loose hoodie seems to hide a strong body underneath. And his face, Astrals. Manly features, a trimmed slight beard that’s long enough only to itch, an unusual scar that crosses his left eye, dark hair that falls entirely wet at his nape with stray locks hanging at his forehead. And his eyes. Eyes like a good cup of hot chocolate that Ignis would gladly take instead of his coffee. Eyes that feel like earth.  “Sorry” the stranger repeats. “I didn’t see you.”

Ignis smiles at him and reassures him it’s okay. The stranger is entirely soaked like he’s fallen into a pool, and it makes Ignis wonder how long he’s been in the rain. He starts offering his umbrella, but he realizes he’s much shorter than this man, and he would have to get too close for either of their comfort if he tried to cover both of themselves. So, as fleeting as the thought arrived does it leave, and he drastically changes subject. Ignis believes the faster he asks this man, the faster they will part ways, and hence the faster the stranger will arrive home not to stay under the rain like this any further.

So Ignis rushes the question, asks him if it’s okay to entertain him for only a moment.

And the stranger stays quiet. And he’s looking at Ignis with wide eyes that look a little lost, and Ignis waits patiently, nervous that this man is getting so soaked, and waits until it’s a little strange. Before Ignis asks him if he’s fine, the stranger asks him to repeat, but instead of repeating Ignis goes straight to his real question.

“I, uhm…” he knows there’s no way this man knows about it, but Ignis feels like every time he thinks about his writer, everybody can see his thoughts like an advertisement, and it turns him a little shy. “I’ve been…I’m looking for Gladiolus Amicitia. Do you know him?”

For a moment, Ignis is grateful the stranger makes such long pauses before answering, because that way Ignis can calm down; every time he says the name his entrails go crazy inside him and his face burns red, so he breathes to control himself. He sees the stranger’s skin go a bit too pale, and belives it must be the cold rain.

“Th-that depends” the stranger says and still looks at Ignis as if terrified. “Who’s asking…?”

Ignis apologizes, realizes how rude he must have looked, and introduces himself. When he does and after a few seconds, the stranger shivers and takes in a breath, and Ignis worries that this man stays any longer in the rain. So he tries to summarize, and explains about his search, and explains about how they told him Gladiolus lived somewhere nearby this area but has not had luck.

“If you could tell me if I’m close, or nowhere close at all…” Ignis says and, while his eyes stay up, his head lowers an inch at the sensation of guilt, hating to keep this man under the rain while Ignis has the umbrella all to himself. “…I’d be very grateful.”

And the stranger stays quiet and only raises the eyebrows lightly at him with a little ‘Oh’. And before Ignis can ask him anything or follow his impulse of giving this man his umbrella at least for a moment, the stranger opens the mouth, eyes not blinking since the gods know how long.

“I…yeah…I…I know where he lives…”

And, gods, it feels like the first time they told Ignis ‘There’s a new story!’ after the first hiatus.

It feels like a blessing, like a gift, and it fills him with joy until he’s rubbing on feeling ecstatic. And his heart feels so light, but as light as it turns it starts beating at an incredible speed that worries the broadcaster, but he’s so happy and so hopeful all that he does is to smile and look at the stranger, feeling his entire expression turn from a formal smile to the most sincere one he’s given in months.

“Do you?” Ignis meant to ask, but it came out as a breathless whisper that he’s not even ashamed about. “That’s wonderful! I am so- I don’t know what to-“

As a broadcasted, it’s very rare for him to stumble upon his words. And yet, the excitement is so much that his tongue goes stupid and he doesn’t know what to say. And the gods bless, this stranger takes the word instead before Ignis makes himself a shame for his job, and the stranger asks him why he’s looking for Gladiolus.  

Ignis hesitates a little, because this is the first person that’s interested in knowing why. Ignis stares at him for a little longer, blinks, smile gone. Ignis believes he should keep quiet, but he can’t. This man can guide him to Gladiolus, he can make Ignis meet that universe of a mind and he’s about to change his entire life. It’s unfair not telling this man what he’s about to do, what he’s about to create.

So Ignis arms himself with courage, and tries to get over the shyness of it. He grips a little tighter at the umbrella he’s still holding to his shoulder, and right as he opens the mouth to speak, his face burns red again.

And he explains, or tries to, without letting himself get too carried away. He speaks about Gladiolus’ literature, speaks about what it makes him feel in the shortest summary he can ever make. He stops when he’s about to say he’s been in love with the literature and its creator, and he lowers the head to hide his growing blush, a little afraid that maybe this man has noticed his feelings and thinks him strange for falling in love with somebody he doesn’t know face to face.

And ignis continues to talk about Gladiolus and his literature, as if trying for this man to understand.

“His literature…it speaks of a man with a huge and very sensible heart. With an artistic soul. I can feel the passion he puts into his writing. I can feel his heart through his words. And I’m…”

And Ignis stops yet again. Because he realizes that no matter how much and how long he explains it, the stranger will not understand what it is to know Gladiolus without knowing him. He won’t understand how Ignis feels about him. So Ignis stops trying to excuse himself, stops caring on sounding like a crazy man or on the impression he’s giving, and decides to put it as simple as he can.

“Let’s keep it as, I’m his fan number one” which is not a lie, but nowhere near to Ignis’ real feelings. “And I wish to meet him. What a good luck I’ve had today; I’ve been looking for weeks and I’ve finally found someone that knows him” after a little pause, he smiles as if to apologize. “I’m assuming things too fast. You said you know where he lives, not that you personally know him.”

“O-oh…b-but I do” the stranger says, eyes still wide, and his constant expression of shock starts turning odd. But Ignis cannot analyze his body language or expression any further, because this man is telling him the greatest news on Eos. “I…I know Gladiolus.”

“Do you?” Ignis asks as an immediate impulse, and his expression again turns into radiant joy and enthusiastic hope. And he’s so happy, and he feels so lucky, and he feels so blessed and he’s feeling so much enthusiasm because he’s so close to his goal that he cannot stop his mouth from vomiting words and excitement as he speaks “That’s- wonderful! I don’t mean to be a bother, and I’ll pay you for your attention, and I’ve kept you under the rain long enough, but do you think you could introduce Gladiolus to me some day?”

Ignis stares at the man, eager for the answer. But all that this man does is to stare at him, like it’s the first time he ever sees another human being and doesn’t know how to react other than just by staring with amazement. And Ignis lets him, because he’s scared of scaring his only guide to Gladiolus, but he grows a little tired of waiting because he’s so excited he cannot wait this long or a second more.

And then the stranger starts smiling.

And Ignis’ smile fades when the stranger first smiles.

Because, now that there’s silence between then, now that this man gifts him that smile…Ignis can listen to what his heart has been trying to tell him all this time. That silly and childish and senseless hope that he had about knowing as soon as he found him…the eyes that feel like earth, those eyes that gleam like a brown universe, the cup of chocolate that he would so gladly take instead of his coffee…

And Ignis knows. He knows when the smile starts turning into a small grin. And as the stranger’s smile grows, little by little, Ignis’ expression transforms from neutrality to complete shock. And his heart continues yelling at him, jumping uncontrollably inside his chest, throbbing in his ears, and Ignis knows, but he doesn’t end up processing the information. And he can only stare with shock at this man; not surprise, because he still doesn’t understand what he knows that he knows, not anything that isn’t a state where he’s paralyzed.

“Sure” this not-so-stranger murmurs with that so-innocent-it’s-heart-melting little grin that feels both shy and joyful at once.

And Ignis stares at him with sock, in silence, the heart’s pace like a scared bunny’s, mouth slightly open so he doesn’t suffocate under the weight of realization, and the breath heavy and trembling.

And, then, the stranger shows a hand to Ignis, as if expecting him to take it and shake it.

“Gladiolus Amicitia” the writer standing in front of him says with a smile, and gifts him sweet and shy eyes. “Your fan number one.”

And it confirms what Ignis knew that he knows.

So Ignis stares at him, finally understanding. He stares at Gladiolus, eyes wide, smile gone, lips parted.

And Ignis realizes that, standing in front of him, there’s a new story.

And he drops the umbrella.

[swords-of-truth-blog]

Another Man - TNP interview 2017

Up there with the best interviews with TNPS I’ve read, some real insight into their process and mentality, espcially the stuff about them slowing down Aphex Twin songs as kids. (Typed up from the Another Man article earlier in the year...)

WITH A FOURTH THESE NEW PURITANS ALBUM NEARING COMPLETION, THE Barnett TWINS ARE AS UNCOMPROMISING AS EVER

TEXY Paul Moody

These New Puritans would like to get a few things off their chest. First, despite being perennially pegged as part of pop’s privately-educated elite, they are in fact proud sons of Essex whose family tree boats more colourful characters than an episode of Who Do You Think You Are? Secondly, despite internet rumours to the contrary, their debut album Beat Pyramid  was not inspired by a Belgian techno outfit in thrall to the mysterious Father Abraham.    “Our Wikipedia page says that the biggest influence on our first record was The Smurfs,” Jack Barnett sighs, nursing nothing stronger than a glass of water in an East End bar. “Because of that, 75 per cent of all the interviews we do mention it. I did have that album, and it is good, but y’know…”  Barnett’s exasperation at the limitations imposed on his imaginative scope are understandable. Over the last decade, his band – now reduced to a core of Jack Barnett and twin brother George – have blazed, like Halley’s Comet, across the skies of the British music scene.    Brilliant and bonkers in equal measure, their three studio albums – 2008’s Beat Pyramid, 2010’s Hidden and 2012’s Field of Reeds – have established These New Puritans as genuine eccentrics whose next move cannot be predicted (Barnett told interviewers at the time of Field of Reeds that the follow up would be “Disney Pop”, sung by an East European vocalist. While this is unlikely, you still wouldn’t bet against it.)    Incorporating seemingly random elements ranging from children’s voices to factory noise; Jamaican dance hall to the deepest voice in Britain; a harrier hawk taking flight to the sound of a human skull being smashed (achieved using a Foley technique involving striking a hammer against a melon covered in cream crackers), their ever-changing collision of art rock, electronica, classical and sound collage has seen them move at breath-taking speed. It’s little wonder that some less enlightened observers have been left simply gazing in awe.    Signed to Infectious (and Domino outside the UK), they have built a loyal global fan base with an influence far beyond the quick-fix of chart success. In 2007 fashion designer Hedi Slimane commissioned the 15-minute piece Navigate, Navigate for a Dior show in Paris, while celebrity admirers include Suede, who asked them to support at the Royal Albert Hall in 2010, and Elton John, who praised the lush arrangements of Field of Reeds. In April 2014 they inverted the hoary notion of the ‘live album’ by performing songs from their entire back catalogue at the Barbican with the aid of a 35-piece orchestra (captured on the 2015 album Expanded).    “I never liked the idea of there being two paths,” says Jack, looking back over their career to date. “There’s one where you can be successful, and the other where you can be experimental. The art is combining the two. The irony is that, in my head, I always think we’re making pop music. It’s only when I look at the reality of pop that I see it’s really banal.”    Barnett’s own reputation as a composer has also grown exponentially. In 2015 he was musical director of a stage production of Aldous Huxley’s 1932 dystopian novel Brave New World. Set in the modern day, this involved writing short pieces to mirror – among other things – the sound of someone perusing their Facebook wall. “Jack’s music always has extraordinary range: there is so much in the way of colour, texture and variety to it,” says Jame Dacre, the show’s artistic director. “As a composer he combines an innate and passionate understanding of storytelling with an astonishing musical range and technical rigour.”    For Barnett, it was exactly the kind of challenge he thrives on: both cerebral and sonically challenging. To create the effect of Soma – the euphoric narcotic on which Huxley’s population is hooked – he used an obscure digital technique called Harmor resynthesis; for the slogans used by the World State, a barrage of hyper-oscillating noise. “At that time a lot of people were writing about dystopias, but they imagined violence and repression being the thing that oppressed people rather than banal pleasures,” he says, still fascinated by the subject. “It’s exactly those psychological weaknesses that oppress people now. We’re constantly presented with mediocre luxury – like being in business class in a plane rather than economy. In real terms, there’s almost no difference – an Amazonian tribesman wouldn’t be able to tell them apart. It makes you think, is that really all people aspire to?”    If These New Puritans are unlike any other band, they are also completely unlike each other. Pale and intense, Jack chooses his words with the care of a Scrabble grandmaster. Resident in Berlin since 2014, he’s a committed Europhile, citing 19th-century Russian novelist Nikolai Gogol and Lithuanian filmmaker Sarunas Bartas as current inspirations. George – the older twin by a minute – is positively cavalier in comparison. A highly successful model who has fronted campaigns for Burberry, Valentino and Lanvin among others, you sense that, as well as playing drums and contributing lyrics, he acts as a vital sounding board for his brother’s more extravagant flights of fancy.    “We just pursue the music,” he says, explaining that his regular EasyJet trips to Berlin from his London home are as much about mapping TNP’s direction as their sound. “We have similar beliefs about things. It’s been like that since we were kids.”    For These New Puritans, home is where the art is. Brough up by their mum (an art teacher) and dad (a builder) in Leigh-on-Sea in Essex, their maverick approach mirrors that of the town itself – local alumni include musician Vivian Stanshall, Helen Mirren and novelist John Fowles.    Growing up, music was never far away. “Our mum was good friends with Wilko Johnson and (Dr Feelgood vocalist) Lee Brilleaux, so we would knock about with his kids,” Jack explains. “And our dad was a huge reggae fan,” George adds dryly. “He was into Steel Pulse, smoking weed, and being the only white guy there.” Their musical awakening came seeing Sparks and Captain Beefheart on re-runs of The Old Grey Whistle Test. By eight, the twins were already writing songs, with their roles clearly defined – Jack on guitar and George on drums. “I used to listen to The Velvet Underground when I was ten,” Jack says of their advanced progress. “But I never once thought about the words or what they meant. They weren’t important to me – it was all about the sound.”    As teenagers the pair would hole up in the loft, slowing down Aphex Twin tracks to quarter speed to figure out how they were created. However, drawn towards the thriving post-punk scene centred around Southend’s Junk Club, they were soon playing gigs of their own, confusing audiences around the country with their ever-evolving sound. “Our music was changing so quickly,” Jack says with a grin. “A promoter would book us three months in advance to play at some indie club. By the time we turned up we wouldn’t be playing any of the songs they wanted to hear. Instead it would be the noisiest music you can imagine.”    “People have this idea we’re from an indie background because we used guitars on (debut album) Beat Pyramid,” George adds. “If anything, that’s the exception. We’ve always been into electronic music.”    The band’s eureka moment came in 2010’s Hidden. A complete volte-face, it combined a glacial sonic assault with word-salad couplets such as Three Thousand’s “Wear fun death-suit / Tropical design / Blade grammar to the death / Everybody run.” Voted NME’s Album of the Year, it cast them as sonic adventurers in the mould of Sigur Rós and Radiohead, a reputation bolstered by 2013’s stunning Field of Reeds. A combination of lush symphonics and woozy electronica, it nodded to everyone from (fellow Essex natives) Talk Talk to conductors André de Ridder and Hans Ek *, positioning them firmly as a neo-classical outfit.    So where will these shape-shifting pop chameleons go next? After two years in Jack’s Berlin studio, their new album is, he says, “7t per cent finished”. While they admit to absorbing ideas from everyone from Stockhausen to electronic label Tri Angle Records – notably Rabit – they’re deliberately vague on details. One thing is for certain, however: it won’t be their ‘Berlin album’. “I hate that idea,” Jack says, recoiling at the thought. “The new album sounds like us. I can’t think of any other way of describing it.”    I can, however, say that the drumming is brilliant,” George adds. He explains that the music they’re working on is both “brutal and beautiful”, with a central theme of “transcendence”. “We’ve got this phrase: don’t dream backwards, dream forwards,” he says. “I think that sums up the way we’re thinking. Look to the future, not the past.”    They both stress that this aim is only achievable without the digital trickery of compression, reverb and distortion. “In the 60s and 70s they were trying to get as hi-fidelity as they could,” says Jack with an air of exasperation. “Why hang on to something that is pre-existing? It’s much more interesting to go forwards and make something clear and pristine.” **    This seems as good a place as any to leave them. In a world increasingly dominated by brazen self-promotion, These New Puritans’ refusal to talk themselves up is a breath of fresh air. At 27, you get the sense that the remarkable Barnett brothers are only getting started on their journeys through sound.    “I have always seen the role of the artist as transporting the listener away from grim reality,” says Jack in conclusion. “There are ways out. That’s music to me. We don’t want to change to have success. If anything, I like the idea of the world changing around us.”

* = André de Ridder was conductor on Field of Reeds but Hans Ek is in fact an arranger ** = The author has perhaps misconstrued something Jack and George have said in many earlier interviews, that in the 1950’s producers aimed for sonic perfection, but by the 1960’s and 1970’s they wanted distortion, which TNP don’t like.

[connorrenwick]

Circular by Design: Daniel Svahn Turns Waste Furniture Into New Furniture

The circular economy is a proposed alternative to our traditional ‘take–make–waste’ model of production and consumption – one that offers hope in the face of environmental catastrophes from climate change to ocean plastic. Designing out waste and pollution, keeping materials and products in use and regenerating our natural environment are so important to contemporary design that we have created a dedicated space for the projects bringing these ideas to life. Circular by Design, a fortnightly column by longtime contributor Katie Treggiden, starts by exploring the reuse of waste as a way to keep materials in use and bring the legacy of the linear system full circle.

Stockholm-based product and interior designer Daniel Svahn established his eponymous studio after graduating from Beckmans Collage of Design in 2009 with a BFA in product design. Crediting his inspiration to the everyday things we see all around us – whether ‘small or big, relevant or irrelevant, nice or ugly,’ he feels anything can be made into something new if you’re observant enough and keep your imagination awake. True to his word, A New Paradigm – an evolution of the New Goodies but Oldies project he presented at the 2020 Stockholm Furniture Fair – is a collection of six pieces of contract furniture made from furniture discarded by the same sector.

Tell me a little bit about your childhood, education, and background in terms of how you first became interested in creativity, design, and sustainability.

I come from a typical Swedish working-class home. My parents had non-creative jobs but were creative anyway. Dad liked to paint and create sculptures for our backyard and mom would constantly reimagine our home, making countless hand-drawn floorplans. That was my first encounter with interior design, spatial contexts, and art. I, too, created a lot as a child and young adolescent, but it wasn’t until my early 20s that I started to think about pursuing a creative career. Funnily enough, my interest in design, furniture, and interiors started after I got a job at IKEA – I was exposed to such a range of furniture and interior products and my interest grew, but it was also a reality check as I learned more about industrial-scale production and the impacts of our contemporary lifestyles – something that has stayed with me ever since. But it was actually a supervisor at IKEA – Pernilla – who urged me to apply to art school. I studied painting, photography, sculpting, design, and installation art at various preparatory schools, before taking my BFA in product design. And now, after almost ten years of working freelance and teaching, I have just completed a Master’s in spatial design at Konstfack University of Arts, Crafts and Design in Stockholm. I used this time to experiment with concepts around sustainability – an opportunity I am incredibly grateful for.

How would you describe your projects: A New Paradigm and New Goodies but Oldies?

They are both all about material reuse and upcycling – and are also a commentary on the production industry, ‘wear and tear’ consumption, and a common, widespread disrespect for material. They argue for material reuse and upcycling as part of any new production. They are projects that enable me to experiment, educate, and show the potential material can have if it is allowed to live out its full lifecycle. Even if a product is old, broken, or obsolete, the material in it still has so much more to give.

What inspired these projects?

During my Master’s, we had a course around ‘degrowth’ [the notion of living meaningfully, enjoying simple pleasures, and intentionally slowing things down in order to minimize harm to people and planet] and how we, as the interior architects and designers of the future, could adopt it in our creative practices. My work came to be about material waste from furniture and how we can and need to tend to ‘old’ material. It is absurd how much fine, already extracted and produced, material is being wasted after its first lifecycle, instead of being put to new use – because it’s cheaper and easier to buy or make new. But things are changing. In Sweden, this work is being led by a handful of companies and initiatives, but they often lack the creative and aesthetic sense in problem-solving and that’s where designers come in. We all need to work together – designers, architects, the industry, clients, consumers, and people in general – if we are going to shift to a more sustainable and circular way of thinking in most of our dealings in life.

What waste materials are your products made from, how did you select those particular materials, and how do you source them?

I focused on the furniture and material waste from the public sector and contract markets since those are the fields I work most in. Waste is a particular problem within the governmental sector, where laws and regulations are strict around public procurement, but not when it comes to getting rid of furniture deemed as old, broken, or obsolete. Most often, these items are just thrown away. However, in Sweden, we now have a handful of fantastic professional companies working on a large scale with reuse, upcycling, and reconditioning of furniture from that area and it is a growing field. Today such companies can recondition old furniture into near new. Interior architects can, therefore, provide more circular, sustainable, and better alternatives for new projects, instead of always selecting newly produced ones. But not all products or materials are easy to process that’s where my ideas come in. I have been working with Recycling Partner (RP) and Rekomo, to learn about the problem articles, such as laminated pieces and obsolete furniture typologies, that they have a hard time with and risk throwing away themselves. These products and materials are hard to recondition for new interior projects. When I suggested that I would try to create new things with this material, these companies bought into the idea straight away and gave me the material I wanted since it was waste for them anyway. It became a win-win situation towards a common goal of material reuse and upcycling.

When did you first become interested in using waste as raw material and what motivated this decision?

I have always used old or found materials in prototypes and even in final designs. The concerns around material waste have also been with me for a long time and I have been playing with different ideas of how I can create new things from old for years. It has been craft-, art-, and product-orientated and all of these ideas and trials have led me to where I am now. Learning from, and being inspired by ‘degrowth’, the United Nation’s Sustainable Development Goals, and all amazing people and companies who push the sustainability agenda really drives me to push myself to find ways that I, within my field of expertise, can contribute to our common goals and a more sustainable and better future.

What processes does the waste material have to undergo to become the finished product?

They have not undergone too much processing at all – and actually that has been a guiding principle for me in the process, to not make too many or overcomplicated incisions into the material, but rather to see how far I can stretch it by doing as little as possible. Guided by the material, as a sort of collaborative partner in the design process, its pre-set appearance and with few cuts and simple joinery, I have tried to generate interesting and unique pieces of furniture. Both to push myself in my design creativity, but also to further justify working with reuse and upcycling by keeping hours and costs down, so it will not be more expensive in the end than buying new. When my pieces are finally done and put together, it just takes some sanding, a little tender loving care, and a coat of paint to make them look like all-new pieces that are not obviously upcycled. I think it is increasingly important in the justification of reuse as ‘the new production’ for the finished products to look new.

How did you feel the first time you saw the transformation from waste material to product/prototype?

Joy – and excitement of course! When you can really see what you can create from waste and how simple the process can be, it’s a pretty good feeling.

What happens to the products at the end of their lives? Can they go back into the circular economy again?

Sure. Since I have done minimal work cutting the pieces and connecting them with wooden pegs and glue, you can knock them apart and treat the material the same way again for new purposes and designs. If you would like to, that is. A bit of touching up, sanding, and adding new colors to it and you have a whole new product or object that allows the material to live as long as possible, regardless of the original intent.

How have people reacted to these projects?

Reactions have been very positive. You can tell that people and the industry are taking sustainability much more seriously now. In the specific field of material reuse and upcycling, I can also see a greater interest, especially for new ideas dealing with some of the more problematic waste streams – we cannot have too few of them. A nice and funny anecdote from this past February when I showcased my project The New Goodies but Oldies at the Stockholm Furniture Fair is that some architects told me that it probably was the best show at the fair and that they were ‘upset’ they hadn’t come up with the idea themselves! They said it was a breath of fresh air, apart from the rest of the ‘fluff’ at the fair, and that it gave them hope for the future. How could I argue with that? It just fueled my ambition and set me on my path for the work with the A New Paradigm project, and all that may follow.

How do you feel opinions towards waste as a raw material are changing?

Eyes and minds are slowly being opened. Climate change, the depleting of our natural resources, and overproduction have made people more aware of the effects we have on nature and their consequences, but it needs to spread even further. On a municipal and professional reconditioning level, the interest in developing these types of ideas is spreading, even into the world of politics. That is when we really can start to generate change and create new laws and legislations to simplify the usage of material reuse and upcycling to a greater extent throughout society. If we can create new products, out of the supposed ‘waste’, that look and behave like new, I cannot see a reason why not. By working with and addressing the industry and political sphere first to generate change, I believe it will be easier to spread the ideas to the rest of society later – or better yet, in parallel.

What do you think the future holds for waste as a raw material?

I think it holds great potential, but we need to develop more, new and smart ways of tending to all the kinds of waste we already have and, ultimately, stop generating more. There are already a lot of examples of this from new plastic products created of salvaged plastic waste from the oceans to the use of food waste for both coloring and new materials and the development of various kinds of composite materials. The problem with some of these though is that they may be hard to recycle when they are created, so it is not only about how we make things but also what happens to them at the end of their lives. Even if waste and the reuse and upcycling of it becomes the new method of production, we still need to rethink our consumerist ‘wear and tear’ ways and create things we really need and that will last for a really long time. Longevity is key.

via http://design-milk.com/

from WordPress https://connorrenwickblog.wordpress.com/2020/08/04/circular-by-design-daniel-svahn-turns-waste-furniture-into-new-furniture/

[mattsammonsez]

Brass Tacts: It’s Not Getting Knocked Down, It’s How You Get Back Up That Matters

Oh man...

A few weeks ago I wrote in Brass Tacts on how we’re witnessing a live lesson in marketing with the Popeyes vs. Chick-fil-a (and other restaurants) battle with the southern-style chicken sandwich. Popeyes won’t sell as many chicken sandwiches as Chick-fil-a, but now they control the conversation through smart social media usage and limited advertising. Now we’re witnessing another live marketing lesson at the other end of the spectrum: how NOT to do an ad campaign, and most importantly how NOT to respond to the fallout from a faulty ad campaign. Of course, I’m talking about the now-infamous Peloton commercial than has been skewered and lampooned since being released in late November.

Like a gift-wrapped Peloton, there is sooooo much to unwrap here. And ironically, the one person who will come out of this better is “Peloton woman”, and it’s not because she pedaled her way to happiness on an overpriced exercise bike. And as always, content creators and broadcasters have something to learn from all of this.

Where to begin? Well let’s start with my general thought of Peloton and similar “personal trainer” systems-- it’s a bunch of hooey. At more than $2,200 for the bike and a $39 monthly membership, if you want a Peloton it will cost you about $2,700 for a year’s usage. Depending on the state you live in and how much you pay in taxes, that amounts to about one full paycheck of net income if you make $100,000 annually. Suffice to say, roughly 80% of the population in the United States can’t afford one of these things, so in my opinion any commercial for this belongs in the “Lexus December to Remember” fantasy department. Yes, you too can have a pricey exercise bike featuring someone in a studio yelling at you to pedal harder if you haven’t emptied your bank account on the Lexus with leather seats (or the two GMC trucks you and your spouse gifted to yourselves, or the Buick SUV you treated yourself to). Most people in their right mind aren’t putting a big bow on a $60,000 vehicle in front of their fortress-size home for Christmas like they do on the TV.

I am also a big believer that if you do want to lose weight, or stay fit and trim, or enjoy the energy and confidence boost that exercising can provide you, I suggest from my own experience that you eat less crap and get up and move around more. I lost 40 pounds over the last 10 or 12 years by not eating fast food and limiting fried foods, virtually eliminating my soda intake as well as drastically cutting back on how much beer I drank, and by pushing myself to exercise for 60 minutes 3 times a week. Want a bike? They sell them at Goodwill for $40. There, I just got you a bike for the cost of one month of a Peloton membership, and you don’t have your “personal trainer” Vinny screaming from a sound stage to sweat a little more for him.

Ok, so personal thoughts on Peloton and exercise aside, let’s move on to what’s happening at Peloton right about now. The company is having trouble (surprise!) convincing people not in a six-figure household to buy one of these things, and a weaker-than-expected IPO on NASDAQ in September isn’t helping issues. So the holiday sales time, a key time for anyone in the physical fitness/personal wellness industries, was a must-hit for Peloton. As you know, they released the infamous ad on November 21st, right before you feel guilty about the 8 or 9 pounds of food you’re going to eat at Thanksgiving. At first the ad seems like the usual sappy/fantasy commercial-- much like the husband surprising his wife with a luxury car, here’s the husband surprising his wife with this expensive exercise bike. And like every other Peloton (or similar item) commercial, she pedals away in the spare room of her really large house and ends up in a good mood at the end of the commercial.

But over time came the now well-known backlash. Why is this already attractive and thin woman forcing herself on to the exercise bike? Why is her husband buying this for her, she clearly doesn’t need this? And the cringe-worthy finish: after a year of documenting her Peloton use, she shows off the compilation to her husband who grins and projects this aura of “well I kept her thin and hot for another year!” While the supposed message was empowering women to do great achievements (albeit on an expensive exercise bike), the various messages received by viewers was “fat is bad”, “exercise ‘til you drop”, and “stay sexy ladies or he’ll kick you and that royal lifestyle to the curb”. The reaction to the whole fiasco BY ALL parties is more fascinating to me.

“Now YOU get on that bike you smug little...”

Peloton got clobbered on Wall Street, losing upwards of $1.6 billion of its valuation after the ad became viral (although shares have recovered somewhat). Rather than admit that they were off the mark with the ad, Peloton is shifting the blame to the viewers, shocked that so many people “misinterpreted” what they were trying to sell (Hot tip: NEVER blame the audience for not getting your message. More on that later). Peloton’s CEO, John Foley, is suggesting this is old news (Hot tip: It’s not). And Peloton’s marketing partner, Mekanism, is very quiet on the whole thing, which is normally not a good sign. But these are all people behind the scenes. What about the people playing the roles of the misguided husband and wife?

This is the Brass Tacts lesson-- how you respond to being pulled into something you didn’t plan on being the center of attention on. And I’ll pull my own experience to the middle, as I was featured in a national ad campaign for H&R Block in the winter of 2013. Thankfully there was no controversy with that campaign, but even though I was used to broadcasting to thousands of people during my “day job” as the game day host of the Tampa Bay Lightning radio broadcasts, having my face pop up on TV screens and web ads across the nation for a solid two months was odd. And while the feedback from friends and strangers who saw the ad was all positive, it was still an adjustment for me to deal with the sudden notoriety I had. But after a few days I took it all in stride, and I still think back to that time 9 years ago when I was selected, filmed, and had a spot starring me delivered to the masses. It was a fun experience, but admittedly a little overwhelming. So if someone who is a professional broadcaster can be shaken a bit by a positive commercial experience, let’s see how our Peloton actors are doing.

Sean Hunter, a.k.a. “Peloton Husband”, was the first to speak out. Naturally, the guy who appeared in about 5 seconds of the ad, is playing the role of the victim. In TV and print interviews shortly after the public backlash, Hunter was stunned by the negative feedback that implemented him as a demanding and care-less husband. He was worried that this ad would stunt his day job as an elementary school teacher as well as his burgeoning acting career. But apparently he was so worried about this turn of events, he continued to give interviews and even changed his Instagram account name to “pelotonhusband”. I sure hope he survives to see his imminent stint on Dancing With the Stars.

But what about “Peloton Woman”? Her name is Monica Ruiz, and after laying low she released a statement through her agency on Saturday, also noting she was surprised by the backlash from the ad. But rather than play the victim, which in many ways she is if you see her character as an attractive young mother who has to pedal to nowhere and fast to keep her hot looks to keep her jackass husband happy, Ruiz ends up being the victor in this whole mess. As described in this New York Times article, actor Ryan Reynolds came to Ruiz’s rescue with one of the best response ads I have ever seen in my life. With Ruiz playing the role of a woman who has clearly been through A LOT lately, we find her at a local bar with her girl friends staring into space before chugging down a martini glass filled with Aviation Gin, Reynolds’ own gin product. As any good friends would do in a time of crisis, the friends reassure Ruiz that everything will be great and go ahead and throw back another. And by the way, one of the friends says to Ruiz, “you look great!”

Our hero Monica (center) in the ultimate clap back ad. I’ll drink to that.

As detailed in the Times article, Reynolds’ had to act fast to make the spot happen, and his timing couldn’t have been better with the public outcry at full pitch. Since the spot was filmed and produced by his own production company, the turnaround was quick and the spot debuted this past Saturday. In the end Ruiz’s character, who was supposed to be the damsel in distress who needed to ride this damn bike in her living room at all hours of the day to make her doofus husband happy in a bizarre way considering she was already an attractive young mother living a heavenly life in this beautiful home with a beautiful daughter, turns out to be the heroine. She didn’t need an expensive exercise bike to feel good about herself (and thus her husband somehow feels satisfied), she just needed a stiff drink with good friends away from home.

And in real life, Ruiz is the undisputed champion here, with a primary assist to Reynolds for getting her into the response ad so quickly. Ruiz comes out on top, shows the world that she cannot only take the heat, but she’ll spin it around and make a nice cool drink out of it. The sympathy for the awful Peloton ad, followed by the smart comeback in the Aviation Gin ad, likely means she’ll have more companies knocking on her door as a spokesperson. Meanwhile Sean Hunter looks like a sniveling idiot, CEO John Foley is likely throwing things in his office and blaming someone else, and Mekanism is probably wondering if they’ve lost the Peloton account for good.

I’m not much of a gin drinker, but I’ll be honest in saying while buying whiskey for my wife’s world-famous Irish Cream this past weekend, I glanced over at the Aviation Gin display. Mission accomplished, and I hope Monica Ruiz makes a mint off of every acting gig she gets.

So what do broadcasters and content creators learn from this mess?

KNOW YOUR AUDIENCE: You need to know who you’re talking to, and how you’re conveying that message. While Foley is trying to pretend like this fiasco is old news, even he acknowledges that the Peloton message needs to be clarified. If you think a certain segment of the population needs to be convinced that buying your product empowers them to do great things, then you need to find a smart and delicate way of conveying that message. Having an already attractive young woman playing the role of a married mother living in a gorgeous house needing to ride an exercise bike her husband mysteriously gifts her to apparently stay young and fit and attractive and snuggled nicely into this rich guy’s house in so many ways looks down at that woman-- and any woman watching the ad. How Peloton, or the ad agency Mekanism, thought this was a good idea or continued to green light it to completion is mind-boggling.

Don’t just “know” through demographic stats and information who your target audience is. KNOW your audience by putting their thoughts and feelings in to the equation. I’m willing to bet my weight in Aviation Gin that during the entire concept and execution of this campaign, there weren’t a lot of (or any) married upper middle-class women with children in on the process. That includes at Peloton, Mekanism, or any test audience for the ad. This wasn’t someone knowing the intended audience, it was someone thinking they knew who needed to see this.

Don’t blame the audience: Maybe the audience did misunderstand the intended message, but don’t EVER publicly suggest that they did. By doing so, you’re implying the audience (including your target audience) is too stupid to understand your high-brow style of communication. The fact is, if a large segment of the population throws back your content, then maybe (no definitely) you’re way off with your target. 

I recall back in 2011 when the Tampa Bay Lightning unveiled a brand new logo and color scheme, the one thing that fans were very vocal about was the lack of black in the new uniform design. Black had been part of the team’s identity since its inception in 1992, why did it totally have to go away? Likewise fans demanded that the Lightning’s unique lightning bolt pants, also a staple of the uniform since 1992, be part of the new concept. Rather than try to explain to the fans that they misunderstood what the team was trying to do, then-CEO Tod Leiweke said the team was going back to the drawing board. Not only was black reintroduced to accent the predominantly blue and white uniform, the pants had the lightning bolt down the side. In this situation, the customer is always right, even if they’re wrong for not seeing what you were trying to do.

Don’t get caught up, when you get caught up: Sometimes you get stuck in the middle when something goes awry, even if it isn’t your fault. Sean Hunter didn’t go into the audition process for the ad desiring to be seen as this idiot husband demeaning his wife by suggesting the already rail-thin woman needed to exercise more. And while most reasonable people don’t see Sean Hunter the actor as a real-life embodiment of the husband, understandably some people just connected dots and thought Hunter and the husband were one in the same. But Hunter should have laid low, let the controversy pass (because it eventually will), and let Peloton or the agency take the heat. Instead he was one of the first to speak out, coming off like a whiny victim, and despite this “career-threatening” moment he is still getting paid. And if it’s an ASCAP deal for him, when the ad stops running he’ll still have $10,000-$15,000 in his pocket for being in the ad. That’s hardly a negative game-changer.

Compare that to Ruiz who stayed out of the fire, and was treated to a sympathetic audience not only because of the unfortunate thrust in to being a face of gender inequality but also for being put in a similar position as Hunter. Rather than book every interview and complain about how her life was ruined, Reynolds came along and was able to recast her in a much lighter role that gave he personality the redeeming qualities of humility (”I can’t believe I was in that ad?”) and humor (”I think I’ll suck down another glass of gin with my friends.”). Eventually this will all blow over, but Ruiz will be remembered for looking calmer and wiser than Hunter, and her acting career may last longer than Peloton.

When the waters get choppy around you from a storm that is out of your control, often the best thing to do is put your head down and keep rowing for land.

Matt Sammon has been in broadcasting and content creation for 24 years, and was most recently the Director of Broadcasting & Programming for the Tampa Bay Lightning. Learn more about him and what he can do for you at SammonSez.com.

[ramialkarmi]

How 'Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle' went from a punchline to one of Sony's biggest box-office hits ever (SNE)

The internet had a field day in 2015 when Sony officially announced it was making a sequel to its hit 1995 movie, "Jumanji."

But the joke's on the internet critics, the movie — powered by Dwayne Johnson and Kevin Hart — earned close to $1 billion globally at the box office.

Director Jake Kasdan explained to Business Insider how he pulled off one of the biggest surprise hit movies in recent memory.

Things did not start off well for the sequel to “Jumanji.”

20 years after the 1995 hit movie — which starred Robin Williams as a man who, after decades of being trapped inside a magical board game, is finally released to complete it with two kids — Sony announced in 2015 that it was going to dust off the property and reboot it.

The internet was not happy.

"It was like, 'You're ruining my childhood!'" Jake Kasdan, director of "Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle," recalled when Business Insider asked if he was aware of the backlash.

Following the Sony announcement, social media was flooded with negative reactions, the consensus being a ���Jumanji” reboot would tarnish the original’s legacy and this was just the latest example of Hollywood being completely out of new ideas:

Not too happy that Sony are doing a "Jumanji" reboot, nothing will compare to the original with Robin Williams!

— TAÝLOR (@TaylorAmesMusic) August 5, 2015

NO YOU CANNOT REMAKE JUMANJI DON'T EVEN TOUCH THAT PRECIOUS GEM OF A MOVIE DON'T YOU DARE

— emma (@STRAWHATPlRATES) August 6, 2015

Noooooo @SonyPictures DO NOT "remake" #Jumanji!!! At least a prequel or a sequel dedicated to #RobinWilliams 😭

— bambamyong (@bambamyong) August 6, 2015

.@SonyPictures rebooting Jumanji? For the love of god, please spare us and don't embarrass yourself by ruining that classic.

— Todd Kaumans (@ToddKaumans) August 6, 2015

SERIOUSLY, HOLLYWOOD? REMAKING JUMANJI??? YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO REMAKE THE BAD ONES, NOT THE GOOD ONES. BLASPHEMY. #StopJumanjiRemake

— Sauts (@Sautterdays) August 6, 2015

A Jumanji reboot? pic.twitter.com/TBFYqYiZD6

— Nate (@nateofoz) August 6, 2015

And things didn’t get any better for the movie when, after screenwriter Chris McKenna ("Spider-Man: Homecoming") was tasked with coming up with a new take on the movie, three more screenwriters came on board to give it a crack. The release date was also changed three times, eventually settling in December, the weekend after “Star Wars: The Last Jedi.”

These are not good signs for a movie.

But in one of the most miraculous turnarounds for a movie in recent memory, “Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle” didn’t just hold its own against “Last Jedi” in December (consistently finishing in second place behind “Jedi” the rest of the year), it knocked the latest "Star Wars" movie off the top spot and went on an incredible three-week streak of topping the weekend domestic box office in January.

The movie went on to earn over $939 million worldwide, and over $400 million in North America — the second-best domestic performance ever for a Sony movie (just below the $403.7 million made by 2002’s “Spider-Man”). All this came from just a $90 million budget.

And no one is more surprised by the movie’s global success than Kasdan.

"I loved what this could be"

Known for R-rated comedies like “Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story” and “Bad Teacher,” Kasdan came out of nowhere to prove he could helm a PG-13 action-comedy with major stars like Dwayne Johnson, Kevin Hart, Jack Black, Karen Gillan, and Nick Jonas.

Kasdan signed on to direct a few months after Sony made the official announcement, despite being fully aware of the hatred for the idea by those on the internet.

“On some level I think there’s a deserved skepticism about bringing back titles,” Kasdan told Business Insider while promoting the Blu-ray/DVD release of the movie (available Tuesday). “Whether it’s a sequel, reboot, relaunch, I think we’ve done so much of it that understandably the audience is kind of ‘why does everything have to be like this?’ But I loved what this could be.”

What the haters online didn’t know was that Kasdan and screenwriters McKenna, Erik Sommers, Scott Rosenberg, and Jeff Pinkner all contributed to what can only be described as a unicorn in the movie business — a reboot that feels new while also paying homage to the original.

The major adjustment done for the “Jumanji” sequel was shifting the board game element to feel more like the present gaming world.

At the end of the original “Jumanji,” Alan and Sarah toss the game into a river. The sequel starts years later in 1996 with the game being found on a beach. The boy who is given it ignores the lame board game, so the game magically morphs into a more attractive video game, sucking him into the game. Then later, more kids are sucked in and become avatars played by Johnson, Hart, Black, and Gillan.

That element opened incredible possibilities for the sequel’s story, as it not only could bring the Jumanji game itself to life, but could deliver all types of gaming aspects to the movie — from the characters having three game "lives" apiece, to the jokes about their avatar’s strengths and weaknesses.

Kasdan said this was all pulled off not by one single screenwriter who finally figured out how to crack the story, but by collectively using all of them, like a TV writers’ room.

"It wasn't like someone was dismissed and never heard from again"

Traditionally, on a movie, when a screenwriter has handed in his or her draft and been told that another scribe has been hired, that usually means the director, producers, or studio executives (or all the above) didn’t like the previous screenwriter’s work. But that wasn’t the case on “Welcome to the Jungle.”

“What made this project unusual was I continued to work with a lot of the writers,” Kasdan said. “It wasn’t like someone was dismissed and never heard from again. Chris McKenna came up with the idea and wrote it with Erik Sommers, and then Scott Rosenberg and Jeff Pinkner came on, and I did some work on it as well. I just liked their work so by the end it was this unique experience where they worked with me or each other. Everyone kept a foot in.”

Though Kasdan thought they had made a worthy movie, he still had no idea how it would play going into test screenings. So before the screenings, he decided to play the movie for his kids.

“My kids are like seven and five, which is sort of younger than we ever thought about our audience, but they loved it,” he said. “That made me think that the movie had a larger possible audience than I had fully realized while we made the movie. They connected so strongly to the fantasy of it, it got me excited.”

And the rest is history. The movie made just under $1 billion globally at the box office and solidified the star status of The Rock and Kevin Hart. And Kasdan is still trying to take it all in.

“I’ve been doing this long enough to realize how extraordinary this is,” he said. “It’s kind of a dream.”

But now it’s back to the drawing board for a sequel. Kasdan, Rosenberg, and Pinkner are all coming back as well as the lead cast. But can a sequel that was praised for having its own identity from the original pull off a successful encore? Can the video game storyline be used again? Is it right to bring back the same cast?

“We’re just starting to figure that out,” Kasdan said. “The honest answer is you could do all different kinds of things and we’re trying to figure out what feels like the most organic and fun way to continue this.”

More on "Jumanji":

How the new "Jumanji" sequel pays homage to Robin Williams' character

The unique reason the director of box-office hit "Jumanji" says he doesn't want to direct a "Star Wars" movie

The amount of money The Rock gets paid for a single movie is unheard of in today's movie business

SEE ALSO: 17 TV shows that will probably get canceled soon

Join the conversation about this story »

NOW WATCH: Why 555 is always used for phone numbers on TV and in movies

[welcometowcwmondaynitro]

WCW Monday Nitro 08/07/1996

It’s the day after Hulk Hogan turned heel. This was a pretty monumental event in wrestling history. If you didn’t grow up in this era you might not get it, the closest comparison at this time would be Cena turning heel, but even that pales in comparison to the shock of the Hulkster turning his back on the Hulkamaniacs, brother.

WCW is starting its summer run at the Disney/MGM Studios in Orlando, Florida, which would last a few weeks.

As usual we’re welcomed by Tony and Larry Z to the hottest two hours in television.

Larry is going super casual. He’s a man of the people. 

Tony says “words cannot describe what happened last night, but the pictures will”. I don’t think it would be that difficult to tell it in words, it wasn’t exactly a complex situation. Larry says he’s disgusted, and Hogan’s actions were “total unmanliness”. They show pictures of Rey Vs Psychosis from the PPV, then Dean Vs Disco. 

The show starts with Rey Mysterio Jr.

His opponent is Dean Malenko.

Rey Mysterio Jr Vs Dean Malenko

You know how these types of matches go, a lot of speedy, flippy stuff from Rey and technical wrestling from Deano. Always good to watch. Towards the end of the match, Tony says “Malenko is showing he’s not only a champion, but he’s a man who can fight as well, and escape near-falls”. Well... yeah. He wouldn’t be champion if he was no good at those things. Thanks for stating the obvious, Tony. Match ends when Dean puts Rey on his shoulders on the top turnbuckle, throws him up as he jumps...

Then...

Ouch.

Malenko goes for the pin but pulls Rey up before the three count, then hits a suplex and once again pulls Rey up before the three. This comes back to haunt him when Rey hits the Frankensteiner...

And gets the three count. Your winner and new cruiserweight champion, Rey Mysterio Jr! The senior citizen front row are loving it. The guy in the “MGM” shirt literally jumps up and down in excitement.

Rey Mysterio Jr defeats Dean Malenko via Pinfall.

Tony says Mysterio earned the win. Larry says he didn’t earn it, Malenko made two mistakes, as if these are somehow mutually exclusive. We get a crowd shot, focused on this guy.

So that’s where Genie goes at the end of Aladdin... to Florida to watch Nitro with a really rough looking Steve Sanders. Cool.

We cut back to the locker room where Mean Gene is with the Nasty Boys and the Steiner Brothers.

What’s up with Rick’s over friendly smile here? It’s kind of creepy.

Scott Steiner says he doesn’t agree with how Harlem Heat won the titles or how they beat them last week when Parker hit Rick in the head with his cane, then gets interrupted by Knobbs. Steiner then yells “shut up, fatso” and says he doesn’t agree with how the Nasty Boys act or look (who would?) but that he respects their wrestling ability. Is he being sarcastic? Doesn’t seem to be, but if he isn’t then what wrestling ability?

Saggs says the Nasty Boys don’t care about the Steiners’ problems with Harlem Heat, they just care about winning their match tonight. He says the Steiners are taking a trip to Nastyville. Scott says “keep talking and I’ll knock your other tooth out”. Hah. Rick starts talking with this weird expression on his face...

And says “I don’t think it’s Nastyville, come down to the dog pound, and get down where it gets real nasty boys. You see, my nose is [inaudible, starts sniffing like a dog]

“I smell em, I smell the heat, I’m coming after you boys, [inaudible], I got you. Nasty Boys, you gettin’ away is just [inaudible] it ain’t gonna be personal”

Word for word. 

Knobbs yells a bunch of stuff as Rick growls like a dog. End segment. Wow. Rick makes his brother sound like Shakespeare.

OUR WORLD IS ABOUT TO CHANGE. ENTER THE REALM. BLOOD RUNS COLD. IN EACH OF US BURNS THE FURY OF A WARRIOR.

GLACIER. 

We get a shot on Mickey as we return to ringside.

Yeah.

Anyway, the announcers are still going on about Hogan’s heel turn as Big Bubba, Hugh Morrus and Jimmy Hart wander out.

Big Bubba is wearing a helmet.

Looking chilly, bro.

Larry says “the Dungeon of Doom are rebuilding their, uh... force, if you will”. If you will indeed. 

They are facing the Blue Bloods w/Jeeves and Earl Robert Eaton.

The fans chant “USA” at the Blue Bloods.

Big Bubba and Hugh Morrus Vs the Blue Bloods

Mercifully this match doesn’t last long. Larry meanwhile says that Earl Robert Eaton “doesn’t know how to treat a bummer the right proper way”.

What?

I’m not sure what he means by this, nor do I think I want to, but he then goes on to say “bummers do all the dirty work.”

“We have the same situation here. We just call them wives.”

Let’s just move on.

Oh, wait no, because Larry just said Hugh Morrus “moves like Rey Mysterio Jr”.

Okay.

John Tenta suddenly arrives and starts beating on Bubba. 

The Blue Bloods hit a double back drop on Hugh Mysterio Jr...

Squire Dave Taylor gets the pin. Tony calls it a “sensational win”. Not quite.

The Blue Bloods defeat Big Bubba and Hugh Morrus via Pinfall.

We come back from a commercial break and Eddie Guerrero and Psychosis are already in the ring.

Apparently this is Psychosis’ debut on Nitro. He didn’t even get a televised entrance. That doesn’t bode well. The cut to this split screen where Rey is talking...

But the announcers are talking over him, so we can’t hear anything he’s saying until Tony tells Larry to shut up. Rey is giving his opinion on Hogan’s heel turn, apparently. He says “there was much confusion in all of our minds. Especially the little kids, they were crying. They were very disappointed, and personally I’m very disappointed on who the third person was. I don’t think that’s fair for all of us. To all my Mexican friends... [speaks Spanish]... he betrayed us.”

Not sure why that had to be shown in the middle of this match - Psychosis debut, remember. Way to showcase him, WCW. Have Rey interrupt and talk about Hulk Hogan instead. I wouldn’t worry Rey, you’ll never be anywhere near Hogan. Watch out for Nash, though.

Larry says if Rey interrupts him again “he’ll have my hand upside his head”. It was the production crew who made the decision to air that, Larry. Rey didn’t walk into the truck and say “Zybszko’s talking, put me on now and cut that sexist old crank off”. I wish he had.

During the match, Eddie whips Psychosis onto the ropes, and Psychosis apparently gets hit in the balls..

Feels bad, man. 

“When human bodies get sweaty, they sweat” - Larry Zybszko. 

For some reason the crowd have decided Psychosis is the heel and started booing him. He hasn’t done anything especially heelish but, yeah, fuck Psychosis apparently.

The match ends when Eddie hits a superplex...

 Then a Frogsplash...

And it’s over. Psychosis debut ends with a loss. Welcome to WCW.

Eddie Guerrero defeats Psychosis via Pinfall.

We go to Gene, who is standing at the entranceway with Sullivan, Jimmy Hart and the Giant. 

Taskmaster’s arm is extremely shiny. Jimmy Hart’s suit is ridiculous. Why is the twizzler mouth there? 

Gene asks Hart about Hogan. Hart says “this is the first time in my life that I’m lost for words, and I really have no comment”. I can believe that. This is a guy with a screaming mouth on his jacket, after all.

Sullivan says “sometimes when you live for the destruction and demise of something, like Jimmy and I did, we lived for a year and a half for the demise of Hulkamania, and he plucked it away from us. He destroyed it himself”. 

Well, how much longer was he supposed to wait, Kevin? Another year and a half? 

Sullivan says that the evil deeds he’s done in his life have come back to haunt him, and that when he looks in the mirror he sees Chris Benoit. He’s a madman. Then he switches back to the New World Order. Jimmy Hart then says “there’s a new world order coming, Gene, and you could be out of a job”. Hah, don’t count on it. Gene starts to act offended by this suggestion he might be out of work, but then the Giant gets on the mic and reminds everybody that he’s the world champion, and as long as he is, “nothing in WCW can go wrong”. I’m not sure what logic he’s employing to come to that conclusion. Didn’t help Bischoff much when he was powerbombed off the stage. 

Giant says that last night the Horsemen “won the battle, but you didn’t win the war”. Strange thing to say considering Giant & Sullivan beat Arn & Benoit, but okay. As the Dungeon walk off, Gene continues to rant about losing his job, as if Jimmy Hart would have any idea whether that was actually true or not.

Here come the Nasty Boys.

The camera zooms in on a mother and (I assume) daughter dancing to the Nasty Boys theme.

Guy on the left is leering kinda creepily at the mom. I hope that’s her partner.

Here’s a story of two brothers, Ricky and Scott...

Nasty Boys Vs the Steiner Brothers

The Nasty Boys try to get a “nastys” chant going. About ten people join in. 

The design of the Nasty Boys shirts and Rick Steiner’s wrestling gear are both similarly horrific. Just a mess of scribbled coloured lines. An adult actually designed those.

Towards the end of the match Scott Steiner gets dumped out of the ring. Jerry Saggs literally forces a kid to get out of a chair so that he can use it to whack Steiner with. 

Splat.

You’d think this would be a disqualification, as the ref sees all of it, but no. 

Hour two begins and we switch to Bischoff and Heenan. 

Scott Steiner recovers from the chair shot and hits Knobbs with a belly to belly. The Nastys regain control briefly, then we get a shot of Sister Sherri and Colonel Parker watching the match from behind the stands.

Sherri jumps on the ropes to distract the ref, Parker hits Saggs with his cane, and Scott Steiner pins Saggs for the win. This means they get a title shot at the next PPV, Hog Wild, which Bischoff describes as “250,000 of your favourite bikers and you”. Sounds scary. 

The Steiner Brothers defeat the Nasty Boys via Pinfall. 

Gene is in the ring with the Nasty Boys.

He says he couldn’t sleep because of what Hogan did. Get a life.

Saggs says “life, as is wrestling, is all about attitude. And ours has always been nasty. The big man, along with that stinking cane, just sent a lightning bolt right through my stinking head with a big message. A big message that says change is inevitable, we’ve got to change”. Saggs begins to say “it’ll be a cold day in hell” and Gene is like...

Because apparently you can’t say hell in front of the kids at Disney. Only in Sunday School. Gene promptly pulls the mic away from Saggs before he can even finish his sentence and asks for Knobbs’ opinion. He tells Gene “don’t take the microphone away from him until he’s finished talking”, Gene then says “fine”, glances over at Saggs, and says “he’s finished talking”. Ice cold.

Knobbs says the Nastys don’t condone Hogan’s actions, but he doesn’t see anything wrong with what he did either. Gene isn’t impressed and pretty much cuts the interview there. 

Jim Powers comes charging out, and he’s so happy to be there.

 He’s facing Ric Flair for the US Title. 

What has Jim Powers done to earn a US Title match, by the way? Then again, what had Disco Inferno done to earn a Cruiserweight Title match at Bash at the Beach? Me and my silly attempts to look for logic in WCW. I’m just going to look at Liz, Woman and Debra instead.

Wooo! And yet it’s also sad to think that only one of them is still alive. And now I feel weird. Let’s just pretend it’s 1996.

Ric Flair Vs Jim Powers

You know how a Flair match goes. His opponent spends the match dominating, Flair cheats somehow and wins. Except in this one Flair doesn’t actually cheat, just wins by using the Figure Four, pretty much fair and square. 

Jim Powers, such a jobber that Flair doesn’t even need to cheat to win.

Ric Flair defeats Jim Powers via Submission.

Gene is standing by with the Horsemen and their ladies. Woman is giving the camera a sultry look. Arn is just glaring at the audience at home angrily. Debra is looking at Gene with a very concerned expression. Maybe she heard he’s out of a job too. We can only hope.

Gene: After last night, I know a lot of things are running through even the minds of the Horsemen.

Even the minds of the Horsemen? Sounds like a bit of a put down.

Arn says that what Hogan did make him “want to puke”. Gene is like:

Arn continues, saying the Horsemen never claimed to be role models, but Hogan did. Arn says that there are people whose “lives hinged on what he said”. I doubt it. If so then they have bigger problems than Hogan turning heel, frankly. Mongo says “the apocalypse is on WCW” and says it only has to do with the Four Horsemen. OK. Flair cuts in and says Mongo isn’t “jumping jack flash” he’s a five time all pro. He bigs up Arn as well, and says that until the outsiders can “heal the sick, wake the dead, and drive little girls right out of their head” ... and then doesn’t finish his thought process. I’m not sure I want him to - little girls?

Anyway, Flair screams “GIANT! GIANT! GIANT! There’s a new champ in town, one that can go all night long, ain’t that right girls? Wooooo!” 

Insane.

We cut to Bischoff and Heenan at the announce desk.

Heenan’s looking sharp. Bischoff not so much.

They both talk about WCW fighting back. At this point it’s pretty funny. I mean, we’re talking three people against literally dozens. It’s not really a contest, is it? Hell, just fire Hogan if it’s such a problem. In kayfabe Hall and Nash don’t even have contracts so they shouldn’t be an issue to begin with. Obviously the nWo will eventually become bloated and a legitimate force, but for now it’s just three guys, two of which are not even supposed to be employed by WCW. God knows what these guys are panicking about.

Anyhow.

Out comes the Sarge with Teddy Long - Holla!

His opponent is Chris Benoit.

Chris Benoit Vs Sgt. Craig Pittman

Obviously Benoit wins. Pittman doesn’t actually tap, though. For some reason Long comes in and tells the ref to ring the bell. Gotta protect Craig Pittman?  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Chris Benoit defeats Sgt. Craig Pittman via Submission.

So, it’s the main event of the evening - Arn Anderson Vs Sting. That’s a pretty big match, but I don’t think they’ve mentioned it all evening. Too busy crying about Hogan, who isn’t even there. Anyway, out comes Arnold.

Fireworks go off as a sombre looking Stinger walks out.

Haven’t heard from him about Hulk Hogan, which is strange as he was directly involved in the match at Bash at the Beach. Haven’t heard anything from Luger, either. Or Macho Man. We’ve heard from Rey Mysterio Jr and Mongo, though, so yeah. Maybe we’ll hear from some of the others after this match.

Bischoff says “we may have guests” and that there isn’t enough security at Disney to handle the Outsiders. Really? Two, three people at most if Hogan is with them. You don’t have enough security to deal with that? Don’t be so stupid.

Arn offers his hand...

Sting pretty much says “fuck you”.

Arn Anderson Vs Sting

The commentators are still going on about Hogan’s heel turn. For fuck’s sake, we get it. It’s a terrible thing. It’s a betrayal. Heenan warned us all for years. WE GET IT. Call the fucking match. 

Sting and Arn have a serviceable match. Nothing memorable. The crowd are behind the Stinger, for sure. During the match they actually air another Glacier promo. They were so high on this guy. Glacier should have been the one to take down the nWo. 

At one point during the match Bischoff says that Sting is “lit”. That’s interesting. I thought that was a recent saying, but Bischoff was throwing it out there in 1996. Trendsetter.

Arn and Sting are taking a break.

Bischoff tells us a “black limousine” has pulled up and that it’s “not a good thing”. Well, the show is practically over so it could be worse. 

Ohhh, scary.

Hall (dressed in all denim, so 90′s) and Nash are out of the vehicle.

Bischoff and Heenan are shitting their pants at this point, whereas the crowd politely applaud when Hall and Nash arrive at the ring. The contrast is amusing.

We have a standoff. What was Bischoff so worried about? Look at all that security, led by “Big” Doug Dillinger in his barely fitting turquoise shirt. No problem. 

The Macho Man comes to the ring. Anderson tries to blindsight Sting with a DDT, but Sting basically just pushes Arn over and applies the Scorpion Deathlock.

Arn gives up. Sting wins. Notice how the women came out with Flair but were nowhere to be seen when Arn and Benoit were wrestling? 

Sting defeats Arn Anderson via Submission.

Okerlund is in the ring with the Stinger.

Check out the dude in the middle rocking the Eddie Guerrero look with dat tash and dat hair. Then the ginger boy next to him with the glasses and turquoise tank top. Why are so many people wearing turquoise? 

Sting looks like he needs a nap. He says “I am not at all surprised. What happened last night I’m not surprised about, coming from the two outsiders. But I will say I am very very surprised at you Hulk Hogan. But I should have known. I should have known when you were travelling to every town in that big fat limo. I should have known, because you didn’t want to travel with the Macho Man or the Total Package and the Stinger. Uh-uh, you were too busy making big movies, and coming in for a little cameo appearance. You were too busy walking on the dark side. I should have known when you referred to the Macho Man and the Total Package and me as three little dogs waiting for a chance to wrestle the great Hulk Hogan. I should have known when I looked into your eyes, but you know something I made a mistake. But you made a bigger mistake, because last night you wiped out and trashed every single little kid, every single person that was a part of your life, that patterned their life after you! You told them to believe in the man upstairs! You told them to say their prayers and to take their vitamins! You told them to believe in themselves and you know something? It’s a good thing you told them to believe in themselves, because they sure as heck can’t believe in you! And last and not least, to put the cherry on the top, all those little kids, you told them to stick it. No, you stick it Hulk.” 

Word. To be honest, based on Sting’s evidence, everybody really should have guessed that Hogan was going to be the third man. Did he actually make the little dogs comment? 

Gene tells Savage “you really got it stuck to ya”. That’s our Gene, he doesn’t mince his words. Savage says “I’ve got a message for Hollywood Hogan...”

“What I wanna tell ya, and I wanna do to ya, I can’t say on television, especially here at Disney.”

“But you take the worst thing that you can think about, and you multiply it by the number nine million, and then you multiply it by infinity and beyond...”

Yeah, Savage just quoted Buzz Lightyear in this supposedly serious promo.

“It would be just like one grain of sand in the Sahara Desert brother, because it’s  really really scary, what I’m thinking and gonna do to you, yeahhhh!”

Sting and Savage hold each other whilst Gene talks about emotions being high. 

We go to a break. I guess the Outsiders just... left? Oh, no, they’re just chilling with Gene.

Wait, what? Bischoff and Heenan are leaving puddles of piss on the floor and talking about not having enough security to handle these guys, and Gene is just standing around with them? Okay. Nash looks like he wants to give Gene a noogie. He totally should. I like how Nash is wearing a fanny pack. Was that cool in 1996?

Gene says that since the outsiders turned up, things in WCW have started to crumble, but he doesn’t think it will continue. Nash says he begs to differ. He says WCW took a beating at the Bash at the Beach, and the fans took a beating too. He says Hogan built professional wrestling and nobody appreciates it. He says next week the third member of the “New Order” will be at Nitro, and they’ll see what WCW can put up against them.

Hall says that this portion of Nitro is brought to us by the Outsiders and Hulk Hogan. He also calls Gene “chico”, which is something he’ll eventually stop doing. Believe it or not WWF sued over stuff like that, saying he was channeling the Razor Ramone character which belonged to the WWF and not WCW.

Hall says WCW should be begging them to come through the door. Gene brings up Jimmy Hart’s comment about him not having a job, again - really, Gene? This isn’t the time. Hall calls him “Scheme Gene” and says he’s got a job with the New World Order. I would have liked to have seen Mean Gene in the nWo. He turns it down flat by saying “I’ll continue to work for Turner Broadcasting”.

Gene asks where Hogan is, and Nash says he’s working on a movie. Hall says Savage is jealous of Hogan, and that Luger didn’t get hurt at the Bash at the Beach, he just fainted when he saw the Outsiders. Video evidence suggests otherwise, but okay.  

We cut back to Bischoff and Heenan. They show slides of the Bash at the Beach main event, including Hogan’s heel turn. They’ve been talking about it so often during the broadcast that this really isn’t necessary. Even if you hadn’t watched the fucking PPV you’d be able to describe the main event minute by minute just through the amount of times it was mentioned during this show. 

Heenan goes on a rant about how Hogan didn’t build wrestling, everybody else in the business did. Then the show ends. Anti-climactic. Why were Bischoff and Heenan so concerned about the Outsiders arriving, and there not being enough security? The pair of them were very quickly escorted back to their limo, with no issues, then had a brief interview with Okerlund before the show ended. Big deal.