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myseungsunglove · 7 months

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More than Willing | Ksm

Pairing: Seungmin x reader

Warnings: Smut, piv sex, no protection (Wrap it before you tap it and all that advice) friends to lovers, language

Word Count: 3.5k

𖠫Summary: Seungmin has been your constant since the moment you joined JYP Entertainment. He’s been your safe haven and your biggest supporter. When you became the 9th addition to Stray Kids in 2020, it only brought the two of you closer, but over the years there has been an unspeakable tension boiling at the surface, just waiting for a weak spot to break through and rear it's tempting head.

✎A/N✎: This has been in rolling around in my head for a few weeks now. I think I’ve played it out enough that it’s time to put one to paper. Hope you enjoy.

◠ ◡ ◠᭚ιαᵕ̈

「© February 28, 2024 by myseungsunglove」

XMDNIX

“Oh. My. God.” you sigh dramatically as you plop onto the king size bed in your NYC hotel room. “I can’t believe that just happened!” you giggle and groan all in one breath. “God I’m sore,” you grumble, throwing your arms to the side of you so that you look like a starfish on display in the bed.

“Pff,” Seungmin scoffs playfully as he knees the foot that is dangling off the edge of the bed. “Welcome to life on tour,” he smiles down at you. “I can give you one of my famous massages later,” he teases, winking at you. “How does it feel to have your first performance in the US as a member of Stray Kids behind you?”

You smile and sigh happily, reaching out a hand so he can help you up. He takes it gladly, moving to help you sit up, but instead he finds himself being pulled onto the bed, toppling not so gracefully on top of you with an exasperated laugh. You grunt at the weight of his body landing on you, but can’t help the laugh that escapes you.

“It feels like I’m on cloud 9 with a 120 pound weight on my chest,” you tease, looking up into his eyes as he remains where he landed.

“God, sorry,” he giggles, pushing himself off of you and rolling to lay beside you. “There really isn’t anything quite like that post concert high, is there?” He smiles wide, looking at you and a laugh tumbles from him. The cadence of his laugh sounds like a song. It’s beautiful and contagious and before you know it, you’re both giggling for absolutely no reason other than the sheer joy of the occasion.

After the laughing fit has passed, you let your arm fall across Sungmin's chest. It lands with a dramatic thud and a low umph is punched from his lungs. You chuckle again and work hard to keep another giggling fit at bay.

“The only thing that makes it better is that I get to spend it with my best friend,” you sigh, running your hand along his chest over the Maniac hoodie he is still wearing. “But fuck my muscles hurt like a bitch,” you laugh again as you smack his chest playfully and sit up with an exhausted sigh. “I really need a shower,” you add, pushing your hair out of your face. It’s late June in New York, and it’s a hot one.

“Yeah you do,” Seungmin smirks beside you. “You kinda smell,” he teases, sniffing the air and pulling a disgusted face. “Dibs on the shower first!” He laughs, jumping up from the bed and darting into the huge bathroom.

“Ya! Kim Seungmin you little shit!” you yell after him, hot on his tail only to have the door slam in your face. The last thing you see is a braces filled smile gleaming at you followed by maniacal laughter from behind the door. “Ah fuck you!”

“You wish!” he sing songs as he turns on the shower. You do a 180 and stomp dramatically into the living area, throwing yourself on the couch. Your head thuds against the back of it and you are starkly reminded just how sore your muscles are. This is your first world tour with the boys, having joined them right at the start of Covid and you didn’t realize just how demanding “regular” idol life could be. All you had known was life as a “Covid idol” as you liked to joke. It was still busy, but this was a whole new level of busy. Not to mention you were already prepping for a comeback in October.

You grabbed your phone from the coffee table and turned on your playlist. Seungmin’s voice from his Hometown Cha Cha Cha OST rings out and you can’t help but laugh. His voice is your favorite in the whole world. You still can’t believe he is your best friend. You look around the room and sigh happily. The two of you always share a room when traveling, even when the company gets everyone else their own room. Seungmin always insists that he be with you, for safety reasons, he claims.

Sure you do feel a little more at ease with him in the same room when you are far from the safety of your dorms, but Seungmin knows you can handle yourself. The company initially forced you to room with someone, putting you with staff the first times you traveled. While you love each of them dearly, it hadn’t been the kind of experience you wanted or wanted to continue while traveling with SKZ and Seungmin had made sure that he was the one you roomed with from that point on.

You breathe deeply and gradually your breaths slow and you drift into a light sleep.

You’re eventually stirred by a quiet albeit dramatic sigh.

“I was gonna give you one of my famous massages,” Seungmin laments. You can hear his arms lift from his side and slap back down against his hips dramatically.

“I’m awake,” you start, opening your eyes and blinking a few times as Seungmin’s figure comes into view.

“That’s what I thought,” he laughs. You rub your eyes and when you open them again, you're surprised by the view. Seungmin has a towel still draped over his hips, his hair still wet. Usually he’d already be donning a white oversized T-shirt and a black pair of basketball shorts.

You lift a scrutinizing eyebrow at him, and can’t help but let your eyes roam his body. His shoulders are broad and his chest wide. He hides it under all his oversized clothes, but he has a well built torso despite not spending a lot of time in the gym. He is dedicated to perfecting dances, and that’s evident in his build. He’s slim and toned, defined without excess. Solid. Steady. His waist is tiny, smaller than yours, and his thighs are surprisingly thick though you can’t see them for the towel, but you know.

Seungmin clears his throat and laughs.

“Ya! My eyes are up here, perv,” he teases.

A blush pulls onto your face and you stand quickly. A satisfied smirk creeps onto Seungmin’s face and the unspoken tension that’s been dancing between the two of you for the better part of a year has manifested itself right into the room with you.

“Bought damn time,” you huff, standing and heading for the bathroom. “And you better not have been lying about that massage,” you add, your hand grazing Seungmin’s bare chest as you walk by him. He shakes his shoulders a little at your touch and tossels his wet hair around. You know goosebumps have pricked up on his skin. You don’t look back at him but you hear him clear his throat and sigh loudly as he falls against the couch with a chuckle. You can’t help but smile yourself as you step into the bathroom and close the door.

You’re not sure how long you spend in there, but the room is full of steam and hot as hell when you finally step out and grab a towel, wrapping it around your torso. You use another towel to dry your hair so that it isn’t soaking wet and pull open the bathroom door, steam billowing out into the room, announcing your departure from the bathroom.

“Fuck it’s hot out here too,” you complain, looking around for Seungmin.

“You know I don’t turn down the air if I can help it,” Seungmin says. He is lying on the couch where you left him, with a towel still draped over his hips.

“It’s not good for…”

“Not good for our voices, I know,” you interrupt him with a laugh. “Why are you still half naked?” you ask as you move into the bedroom and plop onto the bed again, holding the towel close to you so it doesn't fall.

Seungmin isn’t far behind you and laughs at you sprawled across the bed. “Cause it’s hot as balls,” he says as he walks over to his suitcase and pulls out a pair of black shorts. He tugs them on and pulls the towel off. “You’re still half naked,” he notes, walking into the bathroom to hang it up.

“How bout that massage?” you joke as he returns to the room, still bare chested, his hands pushing his hair out of his face only to have it fall back onto his forehead, his efforts fruitless.

“Promise is a promise,” he shrugs, walking back into the bathroom.

“You didn’t exactly promise, but if you’re willing I’m not complaining,” you sigh and pull a pillow under your head and shuffle around getting comfortable.

“I’m more than willing,” he chuckles as he returns from the bathroom, your favorite lotion in hand.

More than willing. You try not to let that phrase stick in your brain too much, but you can’t help but wonder what he means by it.

“You trust me, yeah?” he asks, a serious demeanor overtaking him suddenly. His eyes meet yours and there is something there you don’t recognize.

“Of course I do Seung,” you smile, a little nervously.

He squeezes some lotion onto his hand, rubbing his large hands together as he keeps his eyes on you. He reaches down and grabs your foot, massaging gently as he asks his next question.

“If you want me to stop, you’ll tell me?” He presses his thumb into the arch of your foot and a small moan escapes you.

“Yes,” you breathe out as he sets one foot down and gives the other the same treatment.

“Yes what?” he asks, and there is a teasing lilt to his voice now but a sense of command there as well.

“Yes, I’ll tell you to stop if that’s what I want,” you sigh as his hands move up to your calf and knead into them. You take a deep breath when both his hands slide over your knees and squeeze earnestly at your thighs. You don’t mean for the quiet moan to escape you, but Seungmin’s hands have always been good at this. However, he has never touched you quite like this. There is something different about the way his hands move up and down your thighs, your skin on fire as he moves his long fingers to the outside of your thighs and up along where your leg and hip meet.

You realize the towel has ridden up and remember you are still completely naked underneath.

Seungmin seems to notice your embarrassment and digs deeper into your hips and chuckles when you moan louder, your hands flying up to your face.

“I won’t look if you don’t want me to,” he says, his hands not leaving your body as they move up your sides and under the towel. “Though, this would be easier without the towel,” he says quietly, his hands dancing along your sides lightly.

You’re not sure what comes over you, but you open the towel and let it fall to your sides, completely naked before him.

He shoots up suddenly, his hands off you in seconds as he turns around quickly. He runs his hands through his hair and his head falls forward as his long fingers dig into his neck, his elbows resting against his knees. You can’t help but watch the way his back ripples with his movements and you have to stop yourself from reaching out and running your hands over his shoulders.

“God, y/n, warn a guy first,” he chuckles nervously.

“You said it’d be easier,” you reply, reaching out and running your hand along his arm, pulling at it to get him to look at your face. “And maybe I want you to look,” you add when his big brown boba eyes meet yours. His tongue darts out and wets his bottom lip as his eyes dart down briefly at your mouth and back up to your eyes. His stare is intense and you feel like your body is on fire from the inside out from his look alone, and he hasn’t even really looked at you, but the thought propels you forward.

You take his hand and place it on your ribs, your hand resting gently over his. His fingers splay across your skin slowly and then squeeze at your sides, causing you to arch into his touch. He turns around then his knees back on the bed as his other hand lands on your ribs. He squeezes them, his hands slowly sliding up under your breast and back down again, causing you to let out a breath that you don’t realize you are holding.

You can’t take the tension anymore. You feel like you’re going to burst if you don’t do something.

“Kiss me,” the words fall desperately from your lips as your chest heaves tremulously under Seungmin’s gaze and touch.

His mouth gapes slightly, but when you reach out and touch his neck, his brain catches up and he lets you pull him down to your face.

“You want me to kiss you?” he asks, his eyes roaming your face as his hands stay firmly on your sides.

“God yes,” you breathe out and that seems to be all the permission he needs. His hands tuck under your back and he pulls your body flush against him as his lips find yours. You’d been watching Seungmin sing for years, but nothing prepared you for how soft his lips are. Your chests are pressed against each other as your mouths open to each other, his tongue slipping between your lips and tasting you in earnest. You cling to him as he rolls you to lay on top of him, his hands roaming your back as he kisses you breathless.

When your lungs are on fire and your skin ablaze and flushed, he pulls away, your name a whisper on Seungmin’s mouth. His lips are swollen and puffy and he looks more beautiful than you have ever seen him, his skin flushed and his hair a disheveled mess.

“Holy shit,” he breathes with a laugh as you kiss along his jaw and down his neck. “Fuck,” he moans when you nip at his pulse point then lave your tongue over it to smooth the ache. “Are we really doing this?” he asks, his hands settling on your hips.

“I can’t even tell you how long I’ve wanted you like this Seungmin,” you admit as you roll over beside him and hide behind your hands, suddenly starkly aware of the situation at hand, of the position you now find yourself in.

Seungmin quickly moves on top of you, his hips settling against yours, his covered erection evident against your cunt as he rolls his hips into you. He moves your hands away from your face before he speaks.

“Then have me,” he breathes out desperately, his lips locking with yours. He kisses you hard and deep and you can feel his braces against you as he moves against your lips. Your hands run down his back and over his hips as you desperately push his shorts past his ass. He lifts off you slightly, not wanting to break the kiss and pulls the shorts off completely, kicking them off as he settles back between your legs, his hard cock now running through your folds and your sweaty bodies moving slowly against one another.

His hands are everywhere at once as he takes his opportunity to move his kisses across your jaw and down the column of your neck. His lips trail across your collarbone and he sucks several marks onto your skin as you moan desperately and arch into his mouth. When his lips find your hardened nipple, his tongue swirling around it before sucking it into your mouth, a broken sob shakes your body.

Seungmin lavishes your body with attention before trailing his way back up to your mouth. He kisses you slowly, his hips canting against yours as he confesses.

“I can’t believe you want me too,” he breathes against your lips, his hand softly holding your face as his thumb swipes across your cheek. “My beautiful best friend. My y/n,” he sighs and kisses you again. “I love you,” he pants against your mouth.

“Then show me how much,” you respond, your legs falling open more.

He reaches between your bodies and grasps his dick in hand, running it through your folds before lining himself up with your wet entrance. “You're sure?” he asks, the head of his cock breaching you slowly.

You arch into him, your hands running down his back and settling on his ass as you help him ease into you.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything, Minnie,” you let out your airy confession. “I love you so fucking much.”

His lips find yours again, his hand on the side of your face and in that moment, you think you could lie there and kiss him forever and be completely satisfied. It’s only when he pulls out of you and slowly slides back in, his hips meeting yours and pressing hard against your body, that a moan falls from you and your brought back to the reality that you’re fucking your best friend. No, you're making love to your best friend.

His hips find a slow and steady rhythm as he pulls away from your lips just enough to look into your eyes as he pushes in and pulls out of you. Your mouth falls open, small puffs of air cascading out of you with each press of his hips, his cock reaching that spot inside of you that sets you on fire in a whole new way.

Your hands roam his back and move up to his shoulder, his pace slowly picking up as you squeeze around him, your head thrown back in pure ecstasy.

“Fuck,” you moan, moving your body to meet his as you start to feel that coil tighten in your abdomen.

“Fuck,” Seungmin echos, as your bodies slap together, his stomach tightening, that blissful release eminent. “Y/n, I’m gonna come,” he warns.

Your legs wrap around his hips, holding him to you as he drives into you, his rhythm now erratic. He reaches between you and starts to rub circles around your clit.

“Seungmin,” you moan and arch into his touch, your walls squeezing around him. That’s all it takes for him to spill into you, his pace briefly quickening when his climax hits him. That’s what pulls you over the edge, his hands moving to your hips once he feels you flutter around him, his seed warm as it overflows from your pussy and drips down over his balls and down your ass as you quiver beneath him.

Your hands reach out for his face, pulling him into a kiss once more.

“I love you, Kim Seungmin,” you whisper against his lips as he settles against your body, his hand running up and down your sides lovingly as he kisses you slowly again.

“I’m so in love with you,” he confesses, looking into your eyes. “I’ve wanted you for so long,” his cheeks blush and you place your hands on both sides of his face.

“You have me now,” you tell him, pulling him in again to kiss him hard.

Suddenly he is laughing against your kiss and pulls away from you.

“I don’t think this probably helped with your muscle soreness,” he jokes, pulling out of you and moving to get up from the bed.

You laugh out loud, slapping his chest as he pulls away from you, his hand reaching out to pull you up.

“Definitely made it worse,” you agree with a playful laugh. “Not that I mind,” you add as he pulls you up from the bed.

“Shower,” he says as he tugs you toward the bathroom. “This time I won’t lock you out,” he winks as you step into the bathroom and he moves to turn on the shower. “You’ll really get that massage now,” he smiles mischievously, pulling you into the shower with him.

Your laughter is muffled by a teasing kiss and you can’t help but think what a wonderful tour this is going to turn out to be.

#seungmin x reader #kim seungmin x reader #stray kids x reader #Kim Seungmin Smut #Kim Seungmin Drabble #Seungmin One Shot #Seungmin smut #skz smut #Kim Seungmin One Shot

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readthephible · 6 months

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120+ misc ship questions! ✨

pick a ship, then headcanon these questions to your pairing <3 some of these are smosh centric but they’re open for anyone to use!

1. who rushes to open doors for the other?

2. who drives more often?

3. who is more eager to jump in the shower with the other?

4. who takes self care more seriously?

5. what’s a song that reminds you of them?

6. what’s another couple / duo (real or fictional) that reminds you of them?

7. which one keeps more things because they’re sentimental?

8. which one tells their parents about their partner first? how does it happen?

9. whose family are they more likely to stay with during holidays?

10. whose parents are / were stricter?

11. who uses more emojis?

12. where was their first date?

13. what’s their favorite game to play together (any kind)?

14. which one spams posts / links to the other?

15. who is the black cat and who is the golden retriever?

16. what mythical creature / monster would they each be? (vampire, werewolf, dragon, fairy, etc.)

17. who urges the other to go sing a karaoke duet with them?

18. what is their karaoke song?

19. who is more likely to serenade the other at random moments?

20. who stares at the other from across the room?

21. who brings a shopping haul of clothes home and who watches their fashion show?

22. who insists on paying when they go out to eat?

23. who is more impulsive?

24. who is ‘everything’ and who is ‘just ken’? /ref

25. whose main goal is it to make the other blush?

26. who is first to know about a new trend, meme, slang, etc.?

27. who gets up early to make the other breakfast?

28. who insists they are their pets’ parents?

29. do they have pets together? what kind, what names, etc.

30. who is more of an animal whisperer / befriends wild animals?

31. who has more patience?

32. who insists on fixing something themselves, and who would rather call a repair service?

33. who turns something into an innuendo first?

34. who takes longer to understand a joke or reference?

35. who hides in the other’s arms during a horror movie?

36. who is more jumpy / scared easily?

37. who makes more movie references?

38. who thinks die hard is a christmas movie, and who doesn’t?

39. who talks more during a movie?

40. who carries the other bridal style?

41. what are their thoughts on marriage?

42. what’s the last name situation when / if they get married? (who’s last name do they take, do they keep theirs, do they hyphenate)

43. who wants the less traditional wedding?

44. where do they get married, and where do they honeymoon?

45. where is their favorite place to travel?

46. what do they do on vacation?

47. which one overpacks and which one underpacks?

48. who is the yapper and who is the napper?

49. which one is a lighter sleeper?

50. who is the moon and who is the sun?

51. who collects more? (figurines, pokemon cards, etc)

52. who is more excited to decorate for the next holiday / event?

53. who stopped believing in santa later than the other?

54. do they want kids together? give me all the details - names, what traits they inherit, etc.

55. who is a stricter parent and who is more lenient?

56. who reads a book, and who reads over the other’s shoulder while cuddling?

57. which is booba and which is kiki? /ref

58. who believes in soulmates and who doesn’t?

59. who gets nostalgic more easily?

60. who is more of a perfectionist?

61. who hosts more parties?

62. who makes handmade gifts more often for the other?

63. which one is more formal when answering emails?

64. who prefers skinny jeans and who prefers baggy jeans?

65. who’s better at roasting the other?

66. who initiates more pda?

67. which one is better at censoring their language, and which has less of a filter?

68. who insists on being player one?

69. which one snores like “honk shoo” and which snores like “hoooonk mimimi”?

70. who gives more forehead kisses to the other?

71. what does their future look like?

72. which one believes in astrology more?

73. what was their first kiss like?

74. who steals the other’s clothes more often?

75. who steals the other’s food more often?

76. do they believe in ‘celebrity hall passes’? if so, which celebrities are theirs?

77. what matching couples costumes do they wear?

78. who is naturally more cold / more hot?

79. which is more extroverted?

80. how do they celebrate valentine’s day?

81. what’s a holiday tradition they have? (ex. presents before breakfast on christmas)

82. what niche pet names do they have for each other?

83. who hates small talk and would rather have deep conversations?

84. what’s their icebreaker / olive branch after a disagreement?

85. what kind of food or restaurant is their favorite to get together?

86. who believes in conspiracies more?

87. which had their friends try to set them up?

88. think of your favorite movie, then incorporate your pairing into it somehow and talk about it.

89. when they’re separated in public, what do they yell out to find each other?

90. professors!au. what subjects would they teach?

91. ghostmates!au. who is the ghost that haunts the other?

92. soulmates!au. how are they connected? do they have matching tattoos, names written on them, etc.

93. punk x pastel!au. which is which?

94. historical!au. what time period are they in? what are they up to?

95. hospital!au. who’s the doctor, who’s the patient, and how did they get in that situation?

96. massage parlor!au. who is the masseuse, who is getting the massage?

97. angel x demon!au. who is the angel and who is the demon?

98. gender swap!au. what are their names? (ex. anthony is antoinette)

99. superpowers!au. are they hero and sidekick? mortal enemies? villain duo? what powers do they have?

100. timeloop!au. who is stuck and who helps them out of it?

101. royalty!au. who is the royal and who is the knight / guard / maid etc.?

102. magic!au. what kind of magic do they use?

103. who uses uppercase while texting and who uses lowercase?

—

nsfw / suggestive ⚠️

1. what’s their favorite position?

2. who uses their mouth/teeth/tongue more?

3. who uses their hands/nails more?

4. who is a bit more adventurous?

5. who is more willing to go to a sex shop in person, and who is more embarrassed?

6. who is more into dirty talk?

7. who is more into eye contact?

8. what was their most risky / adventurous experience?

9. who likes to bite, and who likes to be bitten?

10. what is their favorite sexual activity to do together / to the other?

11. which is more dominant / which is more submissive?

12. what was their first time like?

13. who likes to be spanked more?

14. who sends dirty texts more often?

15. mile high club? yes or no?

16. what’s something they reserve for special occasions?

17. how long into their relationship did it take for them to have sex?

18. how often do they have sex?

#bored and sad so posting these now #rpf #shipping #ship questions #otp questions #writing prompts #fanfiction #fanfic #fanfic questions #ask games #ask game #p #txt #long post #ref #smoshblr #rarepairs discord #rarepairs #antis dni

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mars-ipan · 3 months

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HEY FOLKS!

sooooo. remember when i was posting about being up way too late for a powerpoint thing i was doing with friends? yeah i'm posting that final powerpoint now.

allow me to introduce you all to...

THE KOMAHINA BIBLE

(aka a demonstration in unmedicated ADHD)

120 slides. 163 MB. somewhere between 14 and 22 hours of work. sleep deprivation. influence from @anonzentimes , respected komahina scholar. this bad baby has it all this is a powerpoint presentation summarizing and analyzing just about everything you need to know about komahina in sdr2 (and a bit from adjacent media as well). we go in-depth and we prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that komahina real and love wins (loses?)

WARNING: THIS CONTAINS MAJOR END-GAME SPOILERS FOR SDR2 (AS WELL AS DR1). IF YOU WISH TO REMAIN SPOILER-FREE (OR YOU ARE SOMEONE WHO I HAVE BEEN TRYING TO KEEP SPOILER FREE (YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE)) THEN DO NOT VIEW THIS POWERPOINT PRESENTATION UNTIL YOU KNOW. I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR YOU HAVING BEEN SPOILED

ok cool! some other things to keep in mind under the cut:

THIS IS LIGHTHEARTED THIS IS LIGHTHEARTED THIS IS LIGHTHEARTED. IF YOU DO NOT SHIP KOMAHINA THAT'S LITERALLY SO FINE I KNOW THERE IS KOMAEDA SEXUALITY DISCOURSE GOING ON RN FOR SOME GODFORSAKEN REASON KNOW THAT I DO NOT THINK EVERYONE HAS TO SHIP KOMAHINA PLEASE I'M LITERALLY A MULTISHIPPER PLEASE. PLEASE DO NOT CRUCIFY ME FOR FUNNY YAOI POWERPOINT

i made this powerpoint in two sittings across 2 days, each sitting about 8-12 hours long

i got about 7 total hours of sleep in that time. not for each day- total. i was mad scientist delirious by the end of this

originally, i wanted to include far more- i wanted to analyze other media in depth (like the stageplays, the drama CD, komaeda's official songs, and even official art and materials) but i did not have the time for it. maybe i will make a new testament powerpoint detailing these as well as fandom analysis but that is not currently in the works

this is a presentation! as such the intended way to consume it is As A Presentation! unfortunately i am not someone who records videos so i cannot present it to you. if you would like to present it to you feel free. if you would like to present it to your friends feel free. if you would like to present it to the internet i'm honored but would like for you to talk to me about it first. cool

the original target audience for this was my friends and not all of them are anime people so. i am using the more english-friendly terms (as well as first names). i don't think this will bug any of you but i'm making it clear anyways

all art included in the presentation is credited with a caption linking back directly to the original artist's account. if you see your art in here and you do not want your art in here: let me know! i will take it down immediately and without question.

i may have missed some details/glossed over some things! if you think i've made a mistake somewhere or have missed something important, talk to me about it! i'd love to discuss it and if i make the new testament sequel powerpoint then i will include your corrections at the beginning :)

a lot of the jokes i make happen in the transitions of this powerpoint. some of them use audio- click on the little speaker icon to play the audio and time the animations yourself i suppose. i'd recommend playing it as a slideshow ^-^

have any questions about a particular point i make? ask me! i will elaborate for you

ok that's all i can think of!! have fun folks :]

#marzi speaks #danganronpa #sdr2 #komahina #nagito komaeda #hajime hinata #<- i put so much energy into this thing best believe i am maintagging it #OH ALSO. the link is a shared google drive link that takes you to the powerpoint so you can download it. it is safe i prommy #ANYWAYS i really loved making and giving this presentation. have a powerpoint night with your friends it's a blast #komahiners i hope you like this beast. it took a piece of my soul with it i'm pretty sure. i learned a thing or two as well which is crazy!#bc i thought i knew them like the back of my hand. but actually there's even more i don't know. i need to find a translation of the drama C #ok that's it!#rejoice! komahina bible be upon ye!

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queenie-the-court-jester · 6 months

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Cult of the sacrificial lamb ♡

a/n: there is no actual lamb cult, I just like the title 😭 nsfw, mentioning their cock and titty sizes lmao

•°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆

★poka and juniper the Valais black nose's: the twins are inseparable. You need to bathe one but it's not the other's bath time yet? Suck it up then, 'cause they're both going in the tub now. No guarantee you won't get splashed with water. Poka is colorblind, and juniper is.. interesting. Who knows what's wrong her. The only way you can tell the difference between them is through their eyes. Who's blind and who isn't.

Physical appearance: they're both dark skinned with loosely curly black hair. At this point you should give them a haircut. Juniper has green eyes and poka has blue eyes. Juniper is 130 lbs, while poka is 120 lbs. (Juni's packing some pretty big milkers, DD cup bra. Poka got a 6 incher) 5'5

★violet the harri: violet is a little violent. Her name suits her. Kinda. You could be busy doing your chores and she'd tackle whoever decided to come within a 15 foot radius of your location. She likes to bite too, they out multiple muzzles on her only for her to chew through them. She's only ever docile with you, kinda. Just ignore the multiple bite marks around your arms.

Physical appearance: B cup, 140lbs, white long hair, pale as fuck, and violet eyes, 5'3

★azucar the Columbia sheep: I was hesitant to put azucar here since she's 17, legally a minor. I won't do any nsfw content with her because it makes me uncomfy. She can be the sweetest hybrid you ever met or the meanest. No in-between. Her moods flip like a light switch, unpredictable. She'll cuss you out in Spanish and then t-bag you. Talk about a hormonal teenager

Physical appearance: c cup, 137 lbs, curly white hair, pale skin, black eyes, 5'4

★wehrner the American black belly: he has daddy vibes, like he could bend you over his knee and spank your ass because you didn't address him as 'sir'. Bastard. You often catch him shamelessly fapping behind a tree in the fields, even when you freeze and stare at his impressive dick he doesn't stop, instead, inviting you to join him. And that's the story of how he got the cone of shame.

Appearance: 8 incher, 150 lbs, 5'7, long black and brown hair, grey eyes, peach skin, large horns curled around his ears

★Sally the angora goat: 'it's earthworm Sally! Carrying diseases from Florida to Cali!' That is her theme song fr. She's been fooling around with the neighboring farm's ram's so much you doubt she isn't carrying a couple STDs and maybe rabies too. Although she is very bubbly and cheerful, she just starts so much unnecessary drama with the other animals

Appearance: curly long white hair, pale skin, red eyes, D cup, 120 lbs, 5'6

★opal the Tennessee fainting goat: she's so tiny, and mean. She bit your ass and chest so many times you're always looking around your surroundings before entering the fields. Although recently you discovered a rather popular way to stun her and run away

Appearance: black straight hair (I bet she has split ends), peach colored skin, tiny horns on her head, 90 lbs, 4'10, A cup

★sasha the Australian cashmere goat: Sasha is quiet and stoic, but she doesn't hesitate to step in Incase somebody wants to start a fight. She's Kim's second favorite female (you're the first ofcourse)

Appearance: fluffy platinum blonde hair, pale skin, black eyes, small horns sprout from her head, B cup, 152 lbs, 5'9

★kim the dutch landrace goat: Kim can either be your angle or your debil. Yes that misspelling was intentional. More than once has he tried humping you, even convincing the girls to try and help him, except you keep running away. STOP RUNNING AWAY. Is it so bad he wants to impregnate you with his children!?

Appearance: long silky black-blond hair, bro is ripped, large horns curl around his head, 160 lbs, 5'11, 7 incher

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masarrysversion · 1 year

Text

daylight

summary: love story of sir lewis hamilton x singer-songwriter!reader

inspiration: madame taylor swift’s discography. her new songs “you’re losing me” // her old songs

author’s note: this is my very first social media au ♡ must admit that I’m not satisfied with it and the end was rushed :/ taylor swift released a new song “you’re losing me” and I’ve seen many parallels with her old songs so I wanted to make an AU but with a different timeline than TS’s real timeline

face claim: chloe bailey

SEPTEMBER

yourusername

Liked by zendaya and 5 345 851 others

yourusername Surprise!!

Out NOW the new version of my album called Midnights (The Til Dawn Edition) 💙

This edition has a never before heard track called “You’re Losing Me” and it is the official third single from Midnights!!! (Link in bio)

View all 32 377 comments

ynfan IM BAWLING THE SONG IS HEARTBREAKING

loveyn if you have ever been in a relationship that slowly died in front of you while you tried everything to save it but they acted like nothing was wrong, don’t listen to “you’re losing me” you’ll be agonising

midnightslover “I wouldn’t marry me either” anyone would be lucky to marry you, Y/N 😢

user1 you deserve someone who considers you and praises you for existing

yourusername

Liked by elliegoulding, lewishamilton and 3 465 834 others

yourusername THANK YOU SO MUCH, @brits 💖 I can’t believe ‘You’re Losing Me’ won International Song. This song means SO much to me!! The brit is already safe and warm on a shelf at home. What a magical night and what an honour to have been presented this award by two people I highly respect and admire, @elliegoulding & @lewishamilton 🙏

View all 24 859 comments

lewishamilton 💜😍

Liked by yourusername

lewis44ham well... it sure is a normal way to answer an artist you’ve just met... 👀

LHmercfan @lewis44ham Lewis has always been nice like that with everyone lol. It doesn’t mean anything!

ynlover u deserve it so much!!

user47 you transforming your heartbreak into art and getting recognition for it just makes me happy

NOVEMBER

enews

45 295 likes

enews DATING RUMORS ALERT 🚨 Sir Lewis Hamilton and Y/N were spotted entering a building in Manhattan's Greenwich Village.

It seems like Y/N has made Cornelia Street her temporary abode for a few weeks now as her Tribeca property is undergoing a renovation.

View all 3410 comments

lavendrshaze NO WAY NO WAY NO WAY

lewissnation They’re not just rumors imo. They have been interacting so much on social media lately!

formulamilton true lmao. and no wonder lewis has posted so many thrist traps since september 🤔

MARCH

JULY

yourusername

Liked by lewishamilton and 8 416 478 others

yourusername Hi loves, my brand new album ‘wholeheartedly’ will be out this friday. Hope you’ll like it as much as I loved creating it ♡

Comments on this post have been limited.

1 YEAR LATER

lewishamilton

Liked by yourusername and 23 456 120 others

lewishamilton Y/N Hamilton, I would marry you endlessly.

You’re way better than a dream. 🤤

I always knew I was a lucky man but when I met you, I understood that I was the luckiest man ever. Fighting and hardwork have always be in my DNA and yet, fighting for your love and happiness everyday is like no other fights I experienced. It still is my best fight to this day. I will never stop working hard to be worthy of your love and consideration. I thought I had everything until you swept me off my feet at the Brits and finally made me complete that night.

I love you. Thank you for making me and Roscoe your family, @username 😍❤️

Ps: I never thought I would have love songs written about me. In complete awe of your talent 😳

View all 364 924 comments

yourusername You and Roscoe are the loves of my life. I’m the one who is thankful for you, for having found the perfect human being. I have so much love, respect and admiration for you that it is unimaginable. I love you with all of my heart 💜

189 989 likes

#lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #social media au #i apologise for any grammar mistakes i'm french :)#so nerve wrecking to post your writing omg #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton fanfiction #f1 fanfic #mw

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stellar-constellations · 2 months

Text

Star Patient: Chapter 7 (ONGOING SLOW BURN SERIES)

WARNING: This series will include; possible inaccurate medical procedures and medical setting, gore, toxic relationships that should NOT be replicated in real life, murder, yanderes, cursing, suicide mentions, implications of misandry (male misogyny), descriptions of self-harming, accusations of cheating, child death, death of major and minor characters, OC's are used throughout the story for plot and depth, reader is in denial and paranoid, toxic family dynamics, perversive thoughts, reader is bipolar (not saying that in a quirky way, like literally bipolar), religious comparisons, light mention of demons, stalkers, possibly more to add.

Inaccurate canon-timeline and setting (this is before Ashley and Andrew murdered their parents). They also live in America (because I wasn't aware they lived in Europe prior to this series).

Reader has a small fear of adult men/rape and has a history of suicide attempts.

Incest is not Wincest.

Amnesiac! Obsessive! Patient! Andrew Graves x Yandere! Nurse! Reader:

Wordcount: 15,100+ words

Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, chapter 4, chapter 5, chapter 6, current chapter, chapter 8, chapter 9 (in the works)

Want to listen to music while reading? Check out the Star Patient's Official Playlists! Multiple different playlists and genres!

The sound of holy hymns filled the tall church, the painting of a man looming over (Y/N) as she avoided the male’s eyes. Religious paintings just always looked creepy, their eyes just always followed you. What was even more creepier is making prolonged eye contact with the same boy for two minutes now.

Bright brown eyes stared at her own for 120 seconds now, 115 seconds too long for a normal gander to be. Perhaps he was just looking at the people behind her? Or maybe she has something on her face? Dear God, please don’t let it be that he can hear just how awful she sounds when singing. It was like her voice was a sin to this holy choir.

(Y/N) finally broke eye contact with the male, deciding to look back at the painting of the sacred male. Even he wasn’t as creepy as that boy’s staring was, whatever his name was.

The church reeked of burning incense and an old lady’s strong floral perfume. It almost hurt having her mother and some strange next to her singing—practically screaming—into her ears while she did her best to memorize the lyrics. It was hard to remember what came after “I’ve been set free” when all she could think about was being set free to the food trucks outside calling her name for lunch.

Finally, the song ended as she sung the finally sentence.

“You are forever mine.”

What a creepy thing to say to anyone, to any god or not.

(Y/N) stretched her limbs, earning herself a swat to her arm as her mother whispered for her to fix her dress before it rides up on her. She smoothed down her dress skirt, reaching behind and fluffing the white bow sewn to the dark blue dress.

She was excited to go eat some food, then get out of these damn flats that kept pinching her toes. She watched as people filed out of the church, making her eyes meeting bright brown ones as they stared at her through the crowd.

Has he even looked away once during this whole session?

“Hey, maybe he likes you?” Lola suggested, lounging on the library couch, taking up most of the space as her arm draped over the arm rest, her legs lying on (Y/N)’s thighs.

“God, I hope not…” (Y/N) groaned, tilting her head back to hit the couch cushion just to be a bit more dramatic. “I don’t even know his name. That’s grounds for instant rejection.”

“Well, is he cute?” Lola questioned, curious as she watched (Y/N) copy notes from her computer onto her notebook.

“I mean… I dunno? I think?” (Y/N) shrugged. “Gosh, Lo. You know I don’t ever notice that. Looks aren’t everything, you know?”

“Well, my future husband is definitely gonna have brown hair, brown eyes to match and a dashing, symmetrical face." Lola smirked.

“Please, you’re asking too much. Your face isn’t even symmetrical.” Annabelle scoffed, sitting on the harsh library carpets.

“Shut up! I’m gonna get laser surgery for this mole when I have enough money!” Lola whined, hitting Annabelle upside the head.

“I meant your nose, dummy!” Annabelle hissed, cradling her head where she’s been hit. "But that too!"

“Jerk!” Lola exclaimed, going to hit Annabelle once more, but Annabelle was quick enough to catch her wrist. “Stop touching me, Anna!”

“Then you stop hitting me!” Annabelle retorted as their hands wrestled with one another.

“Hey, hey! Stop! You’re messing up my notes!” (Y/N) hissed, hitting her shoulder against Lola’s.

“Stop, that’s not fair. You’re double-teaming!” Lola whined.

The school bell rung, prompting the three to halt their fight. (Y/N) packed up her notebook and computer with a sigh.

“Damn it… I didn’t get to finish my notes.” (Y/N) complained, throwing her backpack strap over her shoulder.

“I don’t know how you do it, girl. Being a nurse sounds like it’s such a drag, having to kiss up to everyone’s ass.” Lola sighed, looking at her hands to make sure her nail polish didn’t get ruined during their tussle. “Ah, damn it, Annabelle! You chipped my nail!”

“Which one?” Annabelle questioned, looking over at Lola’s yellow nails.

“This one.” Lola smirked, holding up her middle finger.

“You little—“

(Y/N) yelped, her body hitting the wall as her legs gave out from the unexpected force, knocking her to the ground. Two hands grabbed the collar of her blazer, pulling her right back up to her feet as they cornered her against the wall.

“Was it you?” a male spoke, his fists shaking with anger as his green eyes met (Y/N)’s.

“Hey! Hands off her, Ben!” Annabelle spat out, her hand touching the male’s shoulder.

“Bud out, I’m talking with the freak!” Ben hissed, shrugging her hand off his shoulder. “Was it you?” he repeated, his eyes glaring back at (Y/N).

“I can’t confirm anything if you don’t tell me, moron.” (Y/N) retorted, annoyed as she tried to pry his hands off her.

An uncomfortable feeling grew inside her stomach at the close proximity they shared, the tension downright suffocating as she resisted the urge to puke.

Dear stomach, don’t let me vomit on him… I’ll never go to school again. (Y/N) prayed to her stomach.

“Did you steal my wallet?” he finally spoke. “I had a three hundred dollars in cash and two gift cards, did you steal them?!”

“Lay off, dude. She was with us this morning!” Lola spoke.

“Yeah, I didn’t steal anything.” (Y/N) huffed, finally prying his hands off her blazer’s collar.

“I swear to God, if it was you I’ll kill you.” Ben spat, his finger jabbing into her sternum. “You’re a freak, just like your father.” He spoke, before storming off down the school hallways.

“What an asshole.” Lola scoffed.

“People like that shouldn’t be let loose into the public.” Annabelle growled, before looking at (Y/N). “You okay?”

“I’m just fine and dandy. Everything’s intact.” (Y/N) muttered, dusting off her blazer and skirt. “It’s not like he stabbed me or anything, so I’m fine.”

“Jeez, girl. You really need to be more… phased? Like, get pissed off at him! Punch him! Kick him in the balls!” Lola encouraged.

“Why would I waste my time on such pointless things…?” (Y/N) sighed, subconsciously picking at her nails. “I mean, Ben’s been doing this crap since middle school.”

“He doesn’t have any right to treat you like that!” Annabelle huffed. “If you won’t kick him in the balls, I will.”

“Can we not talk about Ben’s balls?” (Y/N) whined, a bit embarrassed at this stupid topic. “Just forget it, guys. I mean, this is senior year. We’re going to be graduating in three months, then I’ll never see him again so the problem will be solved.”

“The Almighty Lord blessed you with something I don’t have; patience.” Lola sighed, fanning her face exaggeratedly to show how heated she was about the matter.

“The offer is still on the table if you want me to—“

“No.” (Y/N) interrupted Annabelle, who just sent a pouting glare her way.

Annabelle was a short, black haired girl with brown eyes and a serious passion for weightlifting. She even won an award for the best high school female-weightlifter in the state, being able to carry Annabelle was (Y/N)’s best friend since pre-school. They met in the sand box, where a boy stomped out (Y/N)’s sandcastle, so Annabelle dumped sand in his hair. That sand was in his hair for at least a couple days—it looked like lice to where the caregivers had to inspect and comb through everyone’s hair to make sure there wasn’t a lice that would soon infect other kids.

They met Lola during their first year of middle school. Lola came into the year late as a new girl. She had bleached blonde hair with pink highlights in them (her natural hair color is unknown since she’s been dying it since she was six, not even in her photo gallery does she have a picture of her natural hair).

Lola hit it off with Annabelle instantly, the two meeting in after school’s photography club—which is the cover name. In actuality, it’s mostly just a place for friends to hang out after school and lie to their parents about doing important school stuff; however, the club does take pictures of pep assemblies and football games for the yearbook (albeit half of the photos are crappy and extremely unflattering).

The two girls are always begging (Y/N) to join the club, (Y/N)’s always rejected because she’s studying for college and to keep her college scholarship for a extremely well-liked nursing academy. After graduating that academy as a nurse, she can continue studying and work up the ranks to become a pediatrician!

So she has no time to be fooling off inside a club. She didn’t have that time as she did back in middle school. Well, she was practically a shell of a person.

(Y/N) got hit with a large wave of depression. She’s not quite sure why it just suddenly came up on her. Maybe it was because of the abuse she suffered as a child, maybe it was because of the bullying she would receive at school because of who her father was, or maybe it was because she didn’t have a good personality or looks. Whatever it was, it weighed her down for months, making it hard to get out of bed, hard to shower, hard to eat, hard to brush her teeth. Everything ached with pain. She didn’t know what hurt more; her brain or her heart? Annabelle and Lola were there for her though. They would encourage her to eat a little, to step outside for a bit, to shop for new clothes that would make her feel comfortable. Even after multiple suicide attempts, they never blamed her for how she felt, and they never gave up on her. Maybe the only reason she quit dying was because of them.

“Hey, the bell is gonna ring in a minute.” Lola pointed out, holding her phone as she stared at the time, her 2008’s preppy Hello Kitty aesthetic wallpaper staring at her.

“Damn.” Annabelle sighed, disappointed as she rubbed her neck. “Well, see you tomorrow, (Y/N).”

The two girls still had club after school, so they’ll be seeing each other. After lunch, (Y/N) doesn’t have any classes with them, so lunch is her last chance to see her friends before leaving school.

“Stay shining, star girl!” Lola spoke, sending (Y/N) her own starry smile as she referenced (Y/N)'s star hairlip, her lips coated in a light transparency of pink strawberry lipgloss.

“I’m gonna hit the bathroom real quick. If I’m late to class or not be damned.” (Y/N) smiled, waving them off as she parted ways with them.

(Y/N) glided down the hallway, before reaching the bathroom, pushing open the door and immediately making a dash to the toilet without even bothering to close the stall door. She dropped to her knees, balancing herself by placing her hands on the walls (so she wouldn’t touch the dirty toilet) and puked.

She had been holding that in ever since Ben slammed her up against that wall and shouted at her. The scene was absolutely terrifying to her, being trapped so close to an aggressive male like that did not feel good in the slightest.

How the hell do romance protagonists go through that? (Y/N) questioned herself, before another wave of nausea hit her as she thought about earlier, prompting her to lean over and puke once more.

Her father taught her many things in life; to raise a chicken and slaughter a chicken, to ride a horse and clean horseshoes, to tell the difference between ripe and unripe fruits, and to never trust a boy.

“Boys are disgusting creatures.” He would say.

“You should never trust a boy.” He would say.

“Boys only care about their satisfaction and pleasure. Everything about you is irrelevant.” He would say.

But men and boys are different. What makes a boy a boy is that they’re stupid, immature, and selfish. A man is someone who sacrifices themself for their family, and treats his wife and daughter with respect and kindness.

How can you tell the difference between a man and a boy if it’s not puberty that separates them? How do you know until before it’s too late?

Truth is, her father has always been distrustful of men in general—though he’s never explained why. She has a feeling it’s because of his upbringing. Maybe he grew up in a bad neighborhood, or maybe he had an abusive father; whatever it was, he didn’t want (Y/N) knowing about it.

But even though he hates boys with a passion that rivals the Greek Goddess of Passion Aphrodite, sometimes he doesn’t always act like a man.

There’s been moments where he’s screamed, punched holes inside the walls, been gone for nights after a time, on a very rare chance break stuff. Sometimes he remembers the episodes, sometimes he doesn’t. When he does remember them, he cries and apologizes, hugging (Y/N)’s mother Rose and her. He cries about how sorry he was, and how he doesn’t mean to overreact, and how he begs them not to leave because of his problem.

Rose will never leave; she likes the familiarity of her home town and the memories of the farm. (Y/N) knows she’ll never leave the farm.

The farm is extremely important to the town. It provides lots of the local strawberries for bakeries and jams. It provides the church parties to have their famous loaded mashed potatoes and potato bread. It provides Rose’s pockets with money in cold hard cash. The farm is so damn rich that it even regularly transported goods to three different states nearby.

Rose is sitting on a hill of riches supported by her family’s farm of 120 acres all the way on the edge of the small, close-knit town. The farm was passed down in Rose’s family for three generations now. The farm is so important that every inheritor must only have one child, that way the children can’t fight over the farm when the parent dies.

(Y/N) is expected to have a single child too, her mother has drilled that into her head enough. Rose always babbles on about how (Y/N) will inherit the farm when she dies. Her daughter must not be a whore and spread her legs for any boy; he must be a farmer, he must be her husband, and they must only have one child.

Rose is extremely serious about the farm, despite it being farmhands who tend to the farm. Rose doesn’t help out, she decided to become a nurse for some more money.

People think “Oh, Rose is so good, but her husband Frank is just a monster” but in actuality Rose is more of a monster than (Y/N) is.

(Y/N) spent the early years of her life locked in her damn room because of that witch. (Y/N) was forced to starve for hours to even days at a time while Frank laid unaware of what was going on to his daughter. Frank was consistently discriminated against, and constantly on his feet burning and cutting his fingers off in the auto shop, working grueling hours from open to closed because of mandatory overtime (which was actually just to drive the poor bastard out of down, or at least make him suffer for his condition “the Devil himself” gave him).

Frank had no idea the abuse and neglect (Y/N) received. (Y/N) wasn’t even aware it was abuse because she grew up like that ever since she was potty-trained.

(Y/N)’s early years revolved around watching TV, sleeping, and crying. Well, at least she had water she would drink out of the bathroom sink.

Rose spent the time working while (Y/N) was locked up, but it wasn’t uncommon for her to shove (Y/N) in that dreadful dark room just for her to neglect her duties as a parent. Anything to get out of cooking, cleaning, or spending bonding time with her daughter.

Another wave of nausea hit (Y/N) as she vomited once more. Her throat burned from her stomach acid and stomach enzymes. Her lungs hurt trying to breathe whilst her heart slammed against her rib cage. Her ears were ringing and her eyes had tears in them.

A flash and a camera shutter got her attention, causing her to spin her head around to look at the source, only for another shutter to echo in the bathroom walls as she was blinded by a bright light.

“Looks like the freak is self-purging.” A girl laughed. “This has to at least go viral on some platform. Not that you’re much to look at though.”

(Y/N) groaned, her throat aching from the vibration as she closed her eyes, cursing herself for not shutting the stall door.

“Y-you got it wrong…” (Y/N) muttered, meeting the girl’s blue eyes.

Kate’s had it out for (Y/N) for who knows how long. Kate’s been more of a bully than Ben has, and for longer too. Kate’s dad works with (Y/N)’s father Frank, and they don’t get on good terms (either because of her father’s disorder or because of Frank being given Kate’s dad’s hours for “mandatory overtime” only Frank has to do). Maybe because Kate’s dad hates (Y/N)’s father, Kate hates (Y/N)?

(Y/N)’s eyes glanced over at the girls who were with Kate. Jen and Shell; though their real names were Jenny and Shelly. They were sisters, but honestly they’re pretty irrelevant in (Y/N)’s eyes. She just couldn’t bother to care enough about them since they didn’t speak much. Their current goal in life is to piggyback off of Kate, but maybe in the future they’ll mature and go their own separate paths—that at least make’s (Y/N) a little happy for change.

“I wasn’t throwing up food. You took this out of context…” (Y/N) muttered, wiping her mouth with toilet paper.

“Right… looks like…” Kate took a few steps to the stall, standing behind (Y/N), making uncomfortable shivers crawl up her spine. “Looks like the cafeteria pizza. What? Are you saving it for dinner tonight?” Kate snarked before smiling. "I wouldn't be surprised if you were starving yourself. Everyone knows you tried to kill yourself—I think that's the best idea you've had in your miserable life."

In a small town like this, gossip gets around quick. One of her doctors or nurses were probably a parent to one of the kids here, so they let something slip. It breaches hospital code in keeping patient's confidential, but in a small town like this, there's not much consequences.

A flame of annoyance flickered in (Y/N) eyes, a boiling pit in her stomach. She stood up, dusting the rocks and dirt off her knees. She looked at Kate with distain, her eyes flickering towards Kate’s phone.

She could throw the stupid plastic flip-phone into the toilet and flush it down, but she decided against it. There were three girls against herself, so the odds of winning a fight are not in her favor at the moment. Besides, (Y/N)'s trapped inside the stall, so her escape options are limited in case she does start a fight. She could bulldoze her way between the three girls, but then again, that's three girls. She can't really crawl under the stall because someone can just grab her leg and pull her right back—so she's at a disadvantage to win a fight.

“We’re late for class.” (Y/N) sighed. “I recommend getting to class soon, otherwise Mr. Jones will throw a fit.

Kate glared at (Y/N) as she walked past them, muttering the smart words of “stupid bitch…”

(Y/N) made it out of the bathroom safely, and without a fight too.

Let them post that photo. (Y/N) thought, her footsteps echoing throughout the hallway. It’s not gonna be the end of the world. I’ve had worse.

I’ve had worse.

That’s always been the same stupid excuse she’s used whenever someone bad happens to her in life. She just can’t accept that she’s allowed to be angry, or sad, or afraid of anything; it’s always “I’ve had worse.”

She could fall down a set of stairs and ruin her science project she’s spent a month on, 70 bucks down the drain, but “I’ve had worse. At least I’m not admitted in a hospital room again.”

She could break her arm falling off one of her horse’s, but “I’ve had worse, at least I’m not starving.”

When will it be worse? What’s gonna top the next thing?

Because eventually, there’s gonna be something worse. There’s always something worse for (Y/N).

A notification pops up on her phone, prompting (Y/N) to check it.

“Online transfer: +$300”

“What the…?” she muttered, confused.

A minute later, another notification popped up.

“Withdrawal: -$300”

Ah, it must be one of her parents. Her parents has access to her banking accounts and information, so one of them must’ve accidentally sent money to the wrong account and quickly withdrew the payment.

She goes back to her classroom, receiving a stink eye from the teacher, Mr. Jones.

Mr. Jones also wasn’t a fan of (Y/N), well, more so her father. During the summer enrollment, you got to check out your classes and meet your teachers. Frank was absolutely livid to see a male as (Y/N)’s teacher. He was knocking down chairs and cussing a storm that the principal had to be brought down and threatened to call the cops if Frank didn’t leave.

It’s a miracle (Y/N) didn’t get expelled with some shitty excuse or something because of that scandal. Maybe that’s because this high school was the only one in their small town, and (Y/N) was about to graduate soon, so there would’ve been no point in trying to destroy her education when she’s so close to leaving.

“Well, look who decided to show up.” Mr. Jones spoke, placing his dry eraser marker down, halting the learning of the classroom. “Wanna tell the class what was so important that you just had to skip the first ten minutes of my class?”

(Y/N) resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She missed the days where elementary teachers would get down on your level and whisper to you so you wouldn’t get embarrassed in front of the class.

Or maybe she just wants to be coddled like a child…

“I’m sorry, sir. I had a period problem.” (Y/N) lied.

She had no shame or embarrassment, not with lying, and not talking about her body functions either. She was a human with a uterus, so if the teacher had a problem with then, then the school will too (or, at least they should).

“Oh.” Mr. Jones scoffed, not entirely convinced. “Nice save. But if it happens again next week, I’ll be onto you.”

Yeah, he wouldn’t dare go against the teaching board. Even if he did, the student body of females would protest; (Y/N) may not be the most popular, but when it comes to woman functions, girls got each other’s back.

Or they should.

“Go take your seat.” Mr. Jokes spoke.

(Y/N) walked down the row of students, jumping over Ben’s foot as he tried to trip her. She made it to her desk safely in the back of the class.

Mr. Jones assigned the seats, perhaps he assigned her in the back so he wouldn’t see her father and be reminded of her father. Or maybe he just doesn’t like her in general.

(Y/N) sat down in her seat, confused to see someone had taken the desk next to her. That desk was always empty due to how small the student body was. It was a small town after all, so there were always empty seats in classrooms.

She recognized those brown eyes—it was the boy from her church.

She was surprised. He was never in her class before until now.

She decided to look away before he caught her staring, but he was watching her to begin with, ever since she walked into the classroom.

“Hey, I’ve seen you around before.” The boy spoke, looking at her. “You’re (Y/N), right?”

Damn it. She has to talk with a boy? Out of all the other females around?

“Um… yeah…” (Y/N) nodded awkwardly. “How do you know my name?”

“We go to church together.” He smiled. “I’m Ren. Ren Itami.”

“Japanese?” (Y/N) questioned.

“Yeah. My parents moved here from Japan when they had me.” The boy, Ren, nodded.

“Cool…” (Y/N) muttered, figuring the conversation was done, before Ren spoke again.

“I just transferred classes today. My other teacher wasn’t good at teaching in a way I could understand, so it was only hindering my education.” Ren explained.

“I see…” (Y/N) hummed, not too interested in what else he had to say.

So that’s why he’s in her class now. Still, she doesn’t want to talk with him. Just talking with this guy gives her the chills, but she just can’t understand why.

A month or two has passed, (Y/N)’s not too sure how long it’s been actually, days always seem to blend together now. She goes to school, does her chores on the farm, then studies for college.

She’s been busting her ass for a nursing school she’s been dreaming to go to; the best news is that in freshmen year, the school reached out to her after she scored top grades in her biology and health classes. They offered her a fully-paid scholarship, including dorm renting and free cafeteria food!

With a scholarship like that, you’re damn right she’s studying hard.

It was passing period, the hallways bustling with students as people made their way from class to class. Some kids stopped and stared at (Y/N), much to her annoyance.

Her father had an episode in town again, muttering something about being followed by a man. He filed police reports, but they ignored him per usual as this was a case they’ve reported about before, only to be a waste of time as there’s no evidence to prove it.

Frank got angry at his reports being ignored, so he stared yelling inside the police department, which quickly remained in him spending overnight in jail until he’s calmed down and no longer a threat to himself or others. He didn’t get any charges filed against him due to his medical condition, so he got lucky.

Of course, if Frank is a nut show, then his daughter must be a nut show too. That’s the logic around this town.

Well, at least Lola and Annabelle didn’t think like that. They were (Y/N)’s true friends.

“I swear, nobody can mind their damn business anymore.” Annabelle gruffed, more annoyed about the situation than (Y/N) was.

“It’s fine, Annabelle. Things just happen.” (Y/N) spoke.

“Hey, it’s seriously not fine.” Lola scoffed. “You shouldn’t be treated like this. It’s not like you control what your dad does.”

“If anyone messes with you, I’ll punch them.” Annabelle smiled.

“Don’t bother…” (Y/N) hummed. “We have like… one more month until graduation. There’s no point.”

But alias, problems always seem to occur for (Y/N). As she walked down the hallway, a shoulder bumped into her roughly, causing her to stagger before turning around.

“Freak.” Ben sang, smirking as he walked by her.

“What’s his problem all the time?” Lola scoffed, glaring at the boy.

(Y/N) let out a sigh to calm her nerves, annoyed, before moving past it—but Ben wasn’t just ready to move on.

“Hey. I’m talking to you, freak.” Ben scoffed, walking back towards her.

“Leave me alone, asshole.” (Y/N) hissed.

“Make me.” Ben challenged, pushing her.

“Hey, fuck off!” Lola exclaimed, to which Ben ignored her.

“Stop. It.” (Y/N) spoke through gritted teeth, and for once, pushing him back harder.

“What the—“ Ben huffed, surprised, before he quickly pushed her with more force.

“Ben, st—“ Annabelle was cut off, shocked as (Y/N) threw a punch to his face.

“Fuck you, Ben!” (Y/N) exclaimed, shoving him away from her by using her shoulder.

Her legs shook, adrenaline and fear pumping through her veins, her fists clenching and unclenching as she realized what she just did. She’s done it now.

Ben touched the side of his face, shocked as it swelled, before his fist balled up. A crowd formed around them, watching to see what will go down, holding their flip phones in their hands.

Before he could land a punch, some stepped out of the crowd and grabbed Ben’s arm, pinning him up against the wall.

“You shouldn’t hit a lady.” The third party spoke.

“Ren?” (Y/N) questioned, surprised.

“Get off me!” Ben barked, squirming under Ren’s hold.

Ren had appeared so fast, it was like he was here the whole time.

“T-thanks.” (Y/N) spoke, taking a few shaky steps backwards, before forcing her away out of the crowd of students, making her way to the nearest trash can and throwing up.

“Ugh… damn it…” she muttered, knowing she was done for, for real this time as people recorded her.

Yep. Sounds about right for (Y/N), just her luck.

She scanned the crowd, unsure exactly what she was looking for. Her eyes met his bright brown ones, before she closed her own.

I really hate being alive… she thought.

. (Y/N) had got called into the principal’s office later that day along with Ben. Some other students were there to recall the events and explain their side of the story, including Ren.

It really didn’t matter who was at fault, both of them got suspended under the excuse: “We don’t condone any sort of violence during school premises.”

You can just say that you don’t want the backlash from the bully’s parents and their friends. (Y/N) thought to herself, but she kept that thought in the hatch.

The walk back home hurt. The whole day she had trembling legs and shaky hands, it seemed every hour she was near a trash can throwing up. She was severely dehydrated, light headed, and really just wanted to go home and cry in the shower.

It was a hot day, making the walk home worse. Because of how big her family’s farm was, she lived on the outskirts of town, making her walk longer. The town didn’t have any public transportation due to how small the town was, the buses would’ve clogged up all the morning rush hour traffic where adults try to get to work on time, so buses weren’t a thing in their town.

There was sweat dripping down her forehead, her back uncomfortably wet as her backpack dragged down her posture, and she wanted nothing more but to just give up. Give up walking, give up life—practically the same thing.

She made it to her house and unlocked the gate, seeing a figure sitting in her family’s rocking chair on the porch. The figure noticed her, before it stood up, running towards her.

(Y/N) removed her backpack straps and threw it on the ground, before running and meeting the figure, engulfing them in a hug.

“Papa.” She whimpered, tears welling up in her eyes, the sun burning the top of her head.

“Oh, (Y/N). I got a call from the school. What were you thinkin'? Fightin' against a boy? You know boys are stronger than girls!” Frank spoke, quickly letting go of her as he looked at her hands and face for any marks.

“I’m fine, he didn’t hurt me.” (Y/N) spoke. “But he started it! He pushed me first so I pushed back!”

“He touched you?” Frank gasped. “What a freak! Boys nowadays need to learn some manners and keep their hands to themselves.”

“I was so scared, Papa.” (Y/N) sniffled, wiping the tears and snot off her face.

“Oh, I bet.” Frank sighed, placing his hand on her shoulder. “Come on. Let’s go inside. There’s a fresh pitcher of tea waitin’ for you.”

(Y/N) nodded, picking her backpack up off the ground and following him back inside the house.

Her mother sat in her loveseat, watching the news on the TV. She turned her attention at the door, before motioning for (Y/N) to come over and sit on the couch across from her.

“Frank, those blueberries should be in season to now. Could you go harvest them?” Rose ordered, finding an excuse for Frank to leave.

“Sorry, sport.” Frank sighed, patting (Y/N)’s shoulder, before walking out the door.

“I got a call from your principal today…” Rose started, crossing her legs. “Do you wanna explain yourself?”

“I’m sorry.” (Y/N) started. “I got in a fight with Ben in the hallway. He pushed me, so I pushed him back, so he pushed me harder and I just got upset and punched him…”

“Jeez, (Y/N)… What are you? A animal?” Rose scoffed. “You’re a lady. You don’t hit people. And you especially don’t under the eyes of the Lord. Seriously, what’s wrong with you?”

“I was just defending myself! He’s picked on me before!” (Y/N) defended.

“So? You go to the principal’s office and report it.” Rose retorted.

“But Ma, they don’t listen to me. They don’t like our family.” (Y/N) spoke. “They think we’re cursed. Or were sinners in another life!”

“That’s nonsense. Everyone loves us. Everyone loves our products. We’re devoted followers of our Lord. How could they not love us?” Rose snapped, not seeming to believe it.

“It’s because we’re freaks, Ma!” (Y/N) exclaimed, hitting her hands on her lap. “We’re major freaks! They constantly talk bad about us! We’re always invited last for our community gatherings! Papa is always getting mandatory overtime but no payment, yet everyone else doesn’t have that overtime! We’re constantly being sneered at in public! The kids at my school harass me, but you don’t care because it doesn’t affect you!”

“(Y/N), you can go to your—“

“Do you know what they say about you, Mama?” (Y/N) questioned, her fists shaking as she spoke. “They think you’re a selfish, narcissistic, and hypocritical woman. They think you sold your soul to the devil to inherit your parents’ wealth.”

“Who?” Rose gasped, her jaw dropped.

“Everyone.” (Y/N) hissed. “They think Papa’s a freak because they don’t understand him. They don’t know what he’s going through. They think I’m a freak because I’m your daughter!”

“Well, you know what? I’ve had enough of you. You’ve been acting like a freak lately!” Rose spoke, standing up from her seat. “What’s with you? Is it that college? Is that college stressin’ you out with your studies? I told you that the city isn’t for you but you never listen to me! Is it your father’s stupid paranoid delusions? He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Don’t listen to him!”

“He knows more than you do!” (Y/N) shouted. “And that college is the only thing in my life that will keep me away from you!”

“Go to your room, now! Go straight to bed! Don’t even expect supper tonight!” Rose shouted back, her voice louder—it was always louder compared to hers.

(Y/N) had no problem with that, it’s not like that wasn’t her first time being forced to skip a meal. Besides, there's nothing too great about pre-packaged meals. Rose rarely cooks, and Frank is either always working in the auto shop or on the farm. It's been that way since she was a kid, so school lunches were basically a miracle for her when she entered school. Breakfast and lunch five days a week? That's better than no meals every day of the week! Or at least one every other day.

She quickly took her backpack with her and walked to her room, resisting the urge to slam the door shut. She shut her door (gently) and walked to the bathroom, turning on the shower faucet and stripping off her school uniform. She sat down on the shower floor, feeling more tears well up in her eyes.

“This fucking sucks…” she gritted through her teeth.

She sat there for some time, before finally getting up and washing up. She dried herself off, before picking out some pajamas and changing into them.

She walked back to her room and sat down on her bed for a while. She was tired after today’s events, all that crying and puking and yelling really got to her. She should at least drink some water, but right now she really couldn’t be bothered.

There was a knock on her door, before the door opened.

“Hey, kid. You doin’ okay?” Frank questioned, popping his head into the room.

“No… not really…” (Y/N) sighed.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” he questioned.

(Y/N) took a moment to think, before nodding. “Yeah. I think so.”

Frank walked into the room, sitting down on the bed. He sat down on the edge, waiting patiently for (Y/N) to talk.

“I-I just feel so out of place…” (Y/N) sighed. “I mean, I don’t even know what I do but they hate me, and I don’t know why. I mean, I know I’m not the most prettiest or—“

“Hey, stop that.” Frank spoke up. “Don’t beat yourself up like that. You’re one of the prettiest girls out there, and that’s not just cause you’re my daughter.” Frank explained. “You’re a (L/N). We (L/N)’s may have shit luck, but you know what? We always get back up. And we know what’s true and what’s not.”

“You don’t have to be pretty to be liked. You don’t have to be anything for people to like you. It’ll come naturally over time as you meet some great people.” Frank explained. “Problem isn’t you, it’s society. You shouldn’t have to change yourself to fit societal norms, and you shouldn’t have to beat yourself up over it either. We just live in a shitty town with shitty people; but that doesn’t define society as a whole. There’s still good out there.”

“You know what they say: everythin' happens for a reason. Right now, you’re just waitin' for your moment to shine, and when you shine; you’ll be a damn star.” Frank smiled, patting her back.

“Thank you, Papa.” (Y/N) smiled.

“Now, is there anything else making you upset?” Frank questioned.

(Y/N) took a second to think about it. Everything he’s been saying was right; it’s not that she’s bad, it’s that the people in her town are so close-minded, judging people because they don’t match their beliefs or act a little different from others.

“Would you be upset if I left the farm?” (Y/N) questioned. “I’ve talked about it before, about getting a scholarship to this really good med school, but would it make you mad that I’d be leaving the farm behind? Leaving you and mama behind?”

“(Y/N), there should never be a time in your life where you have to choose between your happiness and someone else’s.” Frank spoke. “You should always choose yourself first.”

“But wouldn’t that just be that selfish?” (Y/N) questioned.

“Are you kiddin'? You’re leavin' behind thousands, maybe even millions, of dollars this farm gained over the generations!” Frank laughed. “That’s pretty selfless if you ask me.”

“Ah, you know what I mean, Papa.” (Y/N) chuckled, rolling her eyes playfully.

“Think of it this way. You’re goin' to wake up to yourself, you’re goin' to shower with yourself, you’re goin' to eat meals with yourself, you’re goin' to go to work with yourself, take spa days, go shoppin', run errands, and go back to sleep in the same bed—all with yourself. Everyone else in life comes and goes; coworkers, friends, lovers, even me.” Frank explained. “Put yourself first because it’s your life. There should never be a period in your time where you feel the need to sacrifice your happiness. If you’re not happy, you’re not livin'; you’re existin'. It’s plain and simple. It's only selfish if you're in a position to help someone in need, but you don't help them despite bein' stable to."

“I… guess you’re right, yeah.” (Y/N) nodded, smiling.

“But if you plan to have kids, then you’re gonna have to make sacrifices. You can’t just make some kids and expect that to be over, there’s a lot more than just that.” Frank chuckled. “But hey, that’s a whole other story for when you’re older. Don’t you dare be tryin' to get pregnant at your age.”

“I won’t, Papa. I promise.” (Y/N) giggled, shaking her head at her father’s antics.

She surprisingly felt a lot better now. Life didn’t feel so bad anymore, who knew a little speech was all she needed to feel better.

But in realty, it was really just her father sacrificing his positive energy to give to her. He may not be the ideal father, and he may not remember everything he does or remain in control of himself sometimes, but she knew this was her father Frank—not the monster or the sinner her town thought he was.

“I heard your mom isn’t letting you eat dinner, I can sneak some in here?” Frank suggested.

“Nah, I’m really not that hungry.” (Y/N) shook her head.

I might just throw it up anyways… she thought.

“Just making sure.” Frank chuckled. “Oh, hey. You wouldn’t happen to know where that hole in the face came from, would you?”

“What hole?” (Y/N) inquired.

“While I was harvestin' those blueberries your mom told me to fetch, I noticed a square hole in the fence, at the bottom of the fencin'. It looks like some wire pliers or somethin'.” Frank spoke. “I told your damn mom we should invest in some sturdier fencin', but she’s so persistent in wantin' that cheap fencin' that we can easily move out of the way in case we expand the farm more.” He sighed.

“No, I wasn’t aware there was a hole in the fence.” (Y/N) spoke honestly, surprised.

“Ah, must be someone tryna deal my damn chickens. Nobody is takin' Charlotte from me.” Frank huffed, crossing his arms.

Charlotte was practically Frank’s pet hen. Charlotte was born in domestically at her farm, she was smaller than the other chicks and had a white fluffy spot on her back. Charlotte has some serious attitude for something that��s easy to fry up.

“I’ll just go to town and replace the fencin' tomorrow. I don’t want any damn coyotes or foxes trying to get ‘em.” Frank sighed, before standing up from the edge of the bed.

“Thank you for talking with me, Papa. I needed it.” (Y/N) smiled.

“Hey, it’s the least I can do.” Frank smiled, before ruffling her hair, causing her to giggle.

“Night, sport. Just remember, I’m proud of you no matter what you do in life.” Frank smiled, opening her bedroom door.

(Y/N) smiled at the reassurance. “I love you, Papa.”

“I love ya too, (Y/N).” He smiled. “Get some rest now.” He spoke, before closing the door behind him.

(Y/N) crawled under her covers and smiled, glad to have talked about her feelings. She didn’t feel as alone as she did earlier.

She closed her eyes, listening to the sounds of the cicadas outside, and the snapping twigs of a bunny or raccoon nearby her window.

(Y/N) woke up feeling a bit more happier and relaxed than usual. She at least woke up in a good mood, the effects of last night's talk still lingering with her as she stood up. She did a small stretch to get her blood pumping, before walking over to her drawers to find clothes for herself. She opened up her drawers to grab a pair of socks for today, before feeling something weird.

What is that?

She pulled out a paper folded in fours, but her heart dropped when she saw red splotches on the piece. She quickly folded open the paper, reading the contents.

"My love, how utterly divine you are. I've taken care of that nuisance for you, are you proud of me? I couldn't stand how he touches you, how he wishes to harm you, when a beauty like you should be absolutely adored. He won't be a problem for you anymore, nobody will ever be a problem to you. You're like an angel, and all I wish to do is protect you from the evil in this world. I want to serve you and be your faithful prophet, your only follower. You saved me, let me save you now. See you soon, my love."

It was printed sugar paper with typed letters printed on it, and dried blood spots on the paper. That wasn't in her drawer last night, someone broke into her house.

It felt like she stopped breathing, a ringing inside her ears as her head felt fuzzy. She dropped the bloodied paper, taking a few shaky steps, before running to the bathroom and throwing up in the toilet.

You would think she'd have nothing in her stomach to throw up, but you'd be wrong. Whenever she gets scared, a nauseating feeling takes over and she can't help but empty her stomach.

She coughed and wiped her mouth with toilet paper, taking another piece of toilet paper and wiping the snot and tears off her face.

Who the hell could've sent her that note? Who the hell broke into her house and planted that?

Another thought stuck her. Just how long have they been watching her? What else is planted in her house?

That thought pushed her up off the ground, scurrying back to her bedroom. She tore her bedroom apart, searching every nook and cranny. She even went as far as to check every single clothing item she owned. She found a small microphone inside one of her ceiling light bulbs; no wonder the room looked brighter, her soft yellow lights were replaced with white LED's and she didn't even realize it! She even dismantled a part of her alarm clock, finding a small camera there. And she found another small camera in the eye of one of her old collector dolls that sat perched on her shelf.

After another trip to the bathroom to puke, she did a quick sweep around her bathroom, finding another microphone in her bathroom lightbulb and a camera inside the shower head; hence resulting in her throwing up again. She grabbed all the cameras and lightbulbs, placing them in a large ziplock bag for evidence, before placing the note in a separate ziplock bag.

(Y/N) sat on her bed for a moment, trying to wrack her brain on why this was happening. Why her? What this a nightmare? Who the hell would choose (Y/N) to stalk? It must be a sick joke, right? Nobody would write her a love confession, that's never happened in her life! She's close to nobody except Annabelle and Lola, and they would never do this! Kate hates her, and Ben's most likely still pissed off at her for punching him. There's nobody else in her life who's been around her recently except...

She grabbed her hair, tugging the ends to cope with the sick realization. It was Ren. That stupid, creepy brat with the stupid, creepy brown eyes that just bore right into her all the time. He's in her church, watching her every move like a hawk. He coincidentally transfers into her class a few months ago. He coincidentally steps in and saves her from Ben yesterday. It has to be him, there's nobody else!

Her throat was sore and burning, her eyes were exhausted and tired from crying, and she felt like she was about to tip over and faint. She opened her bedroom door, stumbling out into the hallway. Her father sat on the couch watching a baking show, while her mother sat reading a book on her loveseat. (Y/N) dragged herself into the living room, placing the ziplock bags onto the center table for them to speak.

"Papa. Mama. We need to call the police. Someone's watching me..."

The police were called down to the farm, talking to a clueless mother and father as they tried to gather evidence. The only evidence that could be found was the ziplock bags (Y/N) provided them. There were no signs of breaking in, but (Y/N) knew that was because of their own faults. They lived in a small, religious town, so everyone knew each other. They would've never expected anyone to break into their house, so it was common for people to leave their doors unlocked in their town. During the police investigation, they found a body inside the pig enclosure, the pigs feasting on the body of Ben Rivers. (Y/N) was immediately placed in custody and taken down to the police station to be questioned.

She refused to talk without a lawyer, but there weren't many lawyers inside of her small town, and her trial date was approaching rapidly. (Y/N) was being trialed for the possibility of first degree murder alongside tampering evidence, and (Y/N) was trying to file charges against Ren for stalking, trespassing, first degree murder, and frame up.

It took weeks for their small town court to final accept their case and get court hearings done. The word got around quick around town. If she felt isolated beforehand, well she certainly felt so now. As luck would have her, Ren was popular in school and in town. He actively attended and volunteered in church, he had stellar grades, and a perfect social image.

That's the only damn thing he has against her, a good social image. It's so unfair. Why is she punished for what others do? She didn't choose to be Frank's daughter, she didn't choose to be next inheritor of Rose's family farm.

Please, as if that was a good excuse, a part of it is her fault too. She was the one that tried killing herself. She was the one that sang the quietest during the church's hymens. She was the one that never bothered to stand out and do extracurricular activities like Annabelle and Lola do. By isolating herself, she's practically doomed herself in this case.

(Y/N) resisted the urge to play with her thumbs as she sat in front of the judge. She wore a white blouse with a black blazer, wearing a pencil skirt and black tights with black flats. Rose said that it would show she's sophisticated and respected, but (Y/N) felt like she was wearing the outfit to her own funeral.

She practically avoided Ren's eyes the whole session, not wanting to see what stupid "innocent" face he'll have on that damn face of his to sway the whole court. He sat in one of the seats behind her, just feeling everyone's eyes (including his) on her sent shivers down her spine. She was currently being tried for first degree murder and tampering with the evidence, but (Y/N) knows that's not true.

Surely they'll believe her, there were literally cameras and microphones in her room! There's practically nobody else that'll do this to her!

"With all the evidence and statements taken into consideration, we the court, find (Y/N) (L/N) guilty of first-degree murder."

Her heart practically dropped at that. How could this happen?

"With all the evidence and statements taken into consideration, we the court, find (Y/N) (L/N) guilty of tampering and trying to rid the body of Ben Rivers."

She tried to open her mouth to speak, but it felt like no words were going to come out. If she kept her mouth open any longer, she might just cry instead.

"(Y/N) (L/N) will serve 20 years, with no chance of parole." The judge decided. "Is there anything you wish to say, Ms. (L/N)?"

"How could you turn your back against justice?" she questioned, her bottom lip trembling. "I'm innocent. He framedme! Tell me how those cameras got into my house! How those microphones appeared!"

"According to receipts on a shopping site, you spent nearly $300 dollars purchasing two cameras and two lightbulb microphones, and had them shipped to a public park. It was purchased under your name and debit card."

(Y/N)'s face paled, her hands shaking. No, she didn't do that. Ren must've stolen it. He must've framed her!

"Around that same time, Ben Rivers, the man you killed, also happened to lose his wallet that was reported to have at least $300 in his words." The judge explained, reading a paper in their hands. "It was also during that time that you fought Mr. Rivers at your public high school, which provoked the murder. With this evidence, you not only premeditated the murder by buying the technology and trying to get rid of the body, but also tried framing the murder itself."

"B-but the note? Where did that come from?" (Y/N) questioned.

"There was no forensic evidence on the letter except for your finger oils, and the dried blood of Ben Rivers. The note was typed so you could hide your handwriting." The judge explained.

"No, no! It was typed! Anyone could've typed that! Ren could've typed that!" (Y/N) tried to fight. "Please, this was a targeted attack! Ben was murdered! Mine and my family's lives are in danger! This didn't just happen out of the blue, it was planned by someone that wasn't me! It was Ren, it has to be!"

"With the evidence of online receipts found under your name and debit card, the forensic evidence of your finger oils after you supposedly found the note in your clothing drawer, the finding of Ben Rivers body in your family farm, the previously shown hostility you've shown against Ben Rivers in the past; it is with undeniable evidence that you are guilty of murdering and hiding the body of Ben Rivers." The judge spoke. "With all this said, (Y/N) (L/N) will serve 20 years in prison, no parole. Along with this sentencing, I hereby give the verdict that Ren Itami is not guilty of first-degree murder, of trespassing, of stalking, and of tampering with evidence."

"What?! No! That needs another trial! You can't do that!" (Y/N) exclaimed.

"Court dismissed!" the judge shouted, their voice echoing throughout the courtroom.

(Y/N) sat limp, staring at the table she was seated at.

It's all over. She thought, her vision blurring with tears as her ears rang.

She could make out her father yelling in the background of the ringing, but she didn't have the energy to look.

My life is over. She thought as the judicial security forced her up out of her seat, taking her away from her family.

She stood up, tripping over her feet as security forced her away. She was able to tilt her head to look at her parents, watching as Rose covered her face with her hands; either she was crying, or she was embarrassed. Frank was standing and animated, his hands moving all around as his mouth ran, but (Y/N) couldn't hear what he was saying.

(Y/N) forced her eyes to look around the courtroom. Most people didn't even seem shocked or surprised that it was "supposedly" her who killed Ben Rivers. A few emotional people cried, others filing out of the courtroom. She saw Annabelle and Lola here with their families, the girls' expressions looking betrayed and in disbelief.

She saw the family of Ben Rivers there. His little siblings sobbed, and his mother covered her mouth as she cried. The father was trying to comfort Ben's mother, but his eyes stared at her with nothing but hatred.

No, don't look at me that way. She thought. I didn't do it. I didn't!

He just needs some guidance. They all just need some guidance to know it wasn't her. It wasn't her!

She finally saw the man that put her in this position, her eyes meeting his bright brown ones. His black hair covered his eyes, but she knew damn well he was looking at her. His disgusting, blood-soaked hands were patting the shoulder of one of Ben's siblings.

No! Don't let him touch them, Ms. Rivers. She thought. Don't let him kill your other children too, Mr. Rivers!

She was led through door, before the security slammed the court door shut, leading her down a hallway where a police car awaited to take her to prison.

One week here, and she could barely get out of bed. She was taken to the town's small prison. There weren't toomany people here, so she was able to get her own cell. At least she wouldn't be sharing a cell with a freak.

Oh, who is she kidding? She'd be the freak they'd be cellmates with.

She stared at the food on the ground, not wanting anything to do with it. It's not even that it looked unappetizing, it's that she had absolutely no strength to eat.

Her life was over, everything she looked forward to in her future no longer existed. She was going to get out of this town, run away from the farm's responsibilities and inheritance, find a place that could accept her no matter who her family was, go to college, become a pediatric nurse and help other kids like her and more. Somewhere in that future, she could even get a chance at a happy relationship.

But that's over now. Nobody is going to love her now. Nobody is going to accept her now. When she gets out of jail, she'll be at least almost 40. How is somebody going to accept a convicted murderer, whether they did it or not? Who is really going to believe her? Jobs will turn her down, she'll be lucky to even score a job at a fast food joint.

It's all over now, so she might as well just die. Starve herself away. Or, at the very least, she'll try to the best of her abilities. Sooner or later, the guards will take her to the medical-treatment room, and they'll force a tube down her nose or mouth and feed her some crappy nutritional supplement whether she wants it or not. After that, she'll go to her cell, and she'll stick her finger down her throat and force all of that disgusting crap out of her body, speeding up her dehydrating process and just finally die. The only reason she's been drinking water is because it hurts to breathe without a moist throat. At least after a while, the starvation slowly stops to hurt, but dehydration just feels worse in her opinion.

There was a bang on her cell's bars but (Y/N) couldn't bother to look over, staring at the ceiling as she rested on her bed.

"Hey, (L/N). You got a visitor!" the guard spoke, though she really couldn't care.

She didn't bother responding to them, staying in the same spot as she refused to talk.

"If you don't get up, we'll just bring them here." The guard persisted, though (Y/N) remained uncaring.

She heard the guard's footsteps fade away, at least ten minutes going by as she listened to other inmates talking and screaming, some banging on their cells angrily.

Can't you fools tell it's pointless? (Y/N) thought.

She wondered how many others were here innocently. This whole damn situation, being in jail, nobody believing her; she was almost convinced that she was a sleeper agent. Or at least, she was guilty but couldn't remember. Why else would people not listen to her?

Footsteps echoed down the hallways, before they stopped in front of her cell. She mentally rolled her eyes, not having the energy to do so in person.

"Hello, (Y/N)." A voice spoke, almost smugly as they stood at her cell. "Did you miss me?"

(Y/N) immediately scrambled up from her spot, getting dizzy and falling on the ground for a few seconds, but she forced her way up off the ground and ran to the prison bars.

"Y-" she tried to speak, but her voice was hoarse.

She quickly ran to her table and grabbed a water bottle, practically chugging the whole thing before wiping her mouth. She ran back to the cell's bars, staring at them.

"Y-you son of a bitch!" she shouted, her voice raspy as she forced her hands through the bars and grabbed the collar of their shirt, slamming them up against the bars. "How dare you show your face to me? I'll kill you! I'll kill you!"

"My, how hostile. I'm just doing you a favor too!" he laughed.

"What the fuck are you doing here, Ren? What are you doing here?!" she shouted. "Was it not enough? Was ruining my life not enough for you?!"

"Calm down, my love. I'm not looking to harm you, honestly this all was my mistake." Ren laughed.

My love? My love? As in, the nickname that bloodied confession letter said?

So it was Ren. (Y/N) thought, almost sickeningly gleeful despite all the damage he's caused to her.

At least she knows she's not completely crazy.

"Fuck you and your mistakes." She hissed, her grip tightening on his collar. "I'll never forgive you for this."

"So feisty." Ren smiled. "I'm actually bailing you out. Shouldn't you be glad?"

"Bailing... me out?" she questioned, confused. "Why did you even get me in here in the first place?! Do you understand how damaged my reputation is now?!"

"Oh, please. It's not like it was good to begin with." He chuckled, causing her to glare at him. "I didn't mean for you to be held accountable for murder. Really, it was an honest mistake. I was just trying to cover my tracks, I didn't mean for that pesky body to have you end up in jail. It's a shame a pest like him is still causing you problems even after he's dead."

"Why didn't you just admit to the murder? Why did you have to involve me into it?" she questioned.

"Well, if I was in jail, I wouldn't be able to see you anymore, silly!" he laughed, his hands reaching out and holding her wrists as she held his collar. "You have such soft, delicate hands. An angel like you shouldn't be trapped in a nasty cage such as this."

"It wouldn't be so soft and delicate when I bash your head into the wall!" she hissed, ignoring his angel comment as she ripped her hands away from him, a new wave of anger hitting her as he had the audacity to touch her after everything he's done.

"Well now, I had to make sure you learned your lesson. I was originally going to let you have a month here in prison—but ah, but I couldn't stay separated from you for that long." He sighed longingly. "I figured a week must be enough for you to learn your lesson! I'm glad I came sooner though, it looks like you've been starving yourself!"

I would rather stay a month here and starve than after to see you. She thought, annoyed.

"You've learned your lesson, right?" he questioned.

"Die sooner?" she spoke sarcastically.

"I do love your humor dear, but now is not the time." He smiled.

"What? Not to cross you or some crap?" she scoffed, crossing her arms.

"Bingo! Aren't you so smart?" he cooed, his hands holding the cell bars as she backed up from him.

"Fuck off. I might as well just rot away here. My life is over now." She hissed, turning her head away from him.

"Oh, no. See, it doesn't work like that!" he smiled. "Whether you like it or not love, you're still being bailed out! So, you can either come with me, or live in the streets! Aren't I a better option?"

I'd rather be the next Oscar the Grouch than go anywhere he's going. (Y/N) thought to herself.

"So? What will it be?" Ren questioned.

"I want to be bailed out." (Y/N) responded. "And I want food."

"Sure, that can be done." Ren smiled. "Just as long as you promise one thing?"

"What is it?" she questioned, glaring at him suspiciously.

"Graduation is near. As soon as we graduate, I want you to come live with me and become my wife. We'll move out of state and have our own family! Unless you want to wait for kids, we can do that too." Ren smiled, as if the idea wasn't crazy.

"Excuse me?" she questioned.

"Yeah, kids are a bit too soon, huh?" Ren nodded, as if agreeing with an idea she didn't even say.

"I said excuse me! Not even a first date or something?" she spoke, shocked.

Well, she shouldn't expect much class from the guy that put cameras and microphones inside her bathroom and bedroom.

"On the way home we'll grab that lunch I promised you. Consider it a lunch date." He smiled.

(Y/N) resisted the urge to roll her eyes, before eventually agreeing. "Okay..." she nodded. "If you bail me out and get me lunch, I'll be your wife..." she spoke, her legs shaky at just the thought of actually agreeing to this ridiculous request.

It can't be that bad, right? It's better than 20 years in prison, right?

"Oh, good! I was worried I'd have to bail you out and kidnap you on the streets! That would be quite the hassle to try and hide you!" Ren laughed giddily. "I'll be right back! I'll go pay and have the guards unlock the cell for you! I even brought you an outfit!"

"Great..." (Y/N) muttered, not even bothering to force a smile.

(Y/N) looked around her cell for anything she wanted to take, but there was nothing that wasn't hers. She watched as the prison guard opened the door for her, a hateful glare on his face.

Understandably so, he's under the impression that she's a murderer of a teenage boy, and now she's being paid out of jail. No wonder he would stare at her in disgust, even if the true killer was the one standing right next to him.

(Y/N) stepped out of the cell, being handed a bag from Ren.

"There's some private bathrooms here, we can find one for you to change in." Ren explained.

(Y/N) nodded, silent as she followed Ren. They found a bathroom for her to change into, much to (Y/N)'s relief as she doesn't want to change inside of a cramped car with her stalker. Ren opened the door for her, about to walk in with her before she stopped him.

"Excuse me? No. I can change by myself." (Y/N) scoffed, stopping him with her arm.

"Hm? Why?" he questioned. "It's not like I haven't not seen any part of your body."

"Don't remind me, creep." (Y/N) hissed, a shiver running up her spine as he reminded her of the cameras. "You stay out! I'll just change really quick!"

"Fine, whatever you want." Ren sighed, disheartened.

(Y/N) closed the door behind her, triple-checking to make sure it was locked. She opened the bag that Ren gave her, mentally groaning at the outfit he chose.

She put on the outfit reluctantly, before grabbing the brush he left in the bag for her. She brushed out her hair, looking at herself in the mirror. She wore a white mid-thigh length sundress that Ren gave her, with strawberry patterns printed on the cloth, and frilly off-shoulder sleeves. She put on white flats that he left in the bag for her, and she refused to wear the questionable lace panties and matching bra. The outfit was cute, but she didn't like knowing it was something her stalker got for her. She'll probably throw the dress away in the trash later.

She walked out of the bathroom, looking at Ren.

"Ah, look at you! You look adorable!" Ren cooed. "Spin for me."

"No." (Y/N) stated firmly, a flash of annoyance crossing her face at his audacity.

"Maybe next time." He laughed, before leading her to an office area.

He signed her out, and (Y/N) shortly received her personal items they held onto. She had the outfit she came to the prison with, along with her phone. She checked her phone's battery, seeing it was at 0%. The battery must've slowly been draining while she was held here.

"Ready to go, my love?" he questioned, holding his hand out for her.

"Die." She snapped, walking past him.

How could he act like this? How could he act like he did nothing wrong after he broke into her house and placed cameras and microphones into her private living space? How could he have the audacity to make her take his fall, then bail her out and tell she must've learned her lesson.

Of course she's learned. She's learned that she's going to get as far away from him as possible, no matter what. It doesn't matter when, one day, she'll escape him. Like hell she'll be his wife.

Ren laughed at her hostility, making a comment about "how cute she is when she's upset." He was acting as if he was dealing with a fussy toddler.

Ren guided her to his car, causing her to halt and rethink her decisions. She was going to be alone in an enclosed space with a man, a man who has done nothing but destroy her life. Ren looked at her expectantly, refusing to get in the car until she does first.

He's making sure he can quickly catch her if she tries to run from him.

(Y/N) sighed, before hesitantly opening the car door and getting in, closing the door. She tested the door handle to see if it'd open, but it was child-locked, she realized. If she wanted out of the car, Ren would have to unlock the doors and walk around to open the door for her.

Damn it, he's smart.

(Y/N) frowned, watching as Ren hopped inside of the driver seat. He turned the car on and smiled at her, opening his mouth to speak, before she interrupted him.

"Food." She spoke, buckling her seatbelt for safety (even if she would rather be in a car accident instead of hanging out with her stalker).

Before he could question where or what, she added on.

"Steak. Go to a steakhouse." She ordered, crossing her arms.

"You seem to know what you want." He chuckled, smiling.

"I haven't eaten in a week. Now drive." She snapped.

"Whatever you want." Ren hummed, pulling out of the parking lot and driving.

She looked around Ren's car, not noticing anything out of the ordinary except for the man himself.

"So, what do you see in me?" she questioned.

"Excuse me?" he questioned.

"ExCuSe Me." She mocked, let out a scoff of disbelief. "You heard me, jackass. You stalked me. You killed Ben. Why?"

"Let's save that for our wedding vows, yeah?" Ren smiled. "Don't worry. You won't have to wait long."

(Y/N) looked over at him nervously, before letting out a defeated sigh, instead focusing her attention outside of the window to avoid his predatory gaze.

Just like he promised, he returned her back home after paying for lunch. He requested for her to keep him bailing her out as a secret, to which she hesitantly agreed.

(Y/N) returned to her family's farm, rushing inside and hugging her father and mother. She made up a stupid lie saying that her good behavior let her get released, though they probably knew that wasn't the truth; however, they certainly didn't care if it was the truth or not.

Everything might've seemed resolved now, but that was far from the case. The news of (Y/N) being convicted and released made the news and headlines. It was (Y/N)'s first day of school and she sat in the bathrooms during lunch, hiding away from the rest of the world in the stall.

Annabelle and Lola are no longer her friends. "We can't be friends with a murderer, whether you say you did it or not, the evidence leads to you." they told her. There wasn't a Ben to try and push her in the hallways, or to try and trip her in biology class. Mr. Jones couldn't even come up with a dry comment to say to her.

It seemed like everyone was busy taking pictures or recording her. There were pictures of her mugshot taped onto her locker, and newspapers with the highlighted words "murderer" taped on it too. There were posts on social media questioning why she was back and how they could let a murderer escape.

She would rather be known as a freak than a murderer any day.

And the worst part? People sympathized with Ren. They were whispering about how sorry they were that he had to see the girl who "tried" to accuse him of killing Ben and stalking (Y/N).

It hurt losing her best friends from middle school. It hurt losing her social image, even if it wasn't much. It hurt being an accused murderer. It hurt hearing the rumors that her family's wealth and connections to the Devil is how she got out of prison.

It hurt being known, but not known at the same time.

She constantly looked at the posts the media had of her. She didn't know how to feel; angry, sad, disappointed, afraid? People are just making assumptions of what they heard and know, they don't know that Ren is the real murderer tormenting her. They don't know anything.

People whispered in the hallways and classes about her.

"I heard that she tried framing Ren because he rejected her confession."

"I heard she was the killer all along. I mean, who gets a love letter placed in their drawers and doesn't know about it? Sounds pretty suspicious."

"She got bailed out because of her mommy's money. She can't even accept responsibility for her own crimes."

"She sure looks like a killer, all quiet and creepy. I didn't even know who she was until now."

Even if Ben's bullying stopped, Kate's didn't. She only got more physical. What used to be verbally assaults was replaced with milk spilt on her head and cigarette burns on her scarred arms.

When will it be enough? She questioned the universe.

Never.

But the worst part? God, the worst part must be that bastard's face. (Y/N) constantly checked her room everyday to make sure there were no cameras or light bulbs, so Ren gave up trying to install more. Even though he stopped his 24/7 supervision of her, he constantly visited her at night, keeping her up by knocking at her window until she opened it so that he could talk her ear off about how pretty she was, and how excited he was to be her husband, and how close graduation was coming until he'd take her away from here.

He kept writing his stupid confession letters to her, about how much of an "angel" she was, and how utterly divine her beauty was. He used sugar paper to write on, and he used a dark red ink pen to write with. It was like he was taunting her by choosing red, reminding her of the spilt blood that stained the first confession he gave her. It was like he was reminding her that nobody believes her, that in everyone else's eyes she killed Ben.

She would grab the letters and burn them on her father's grill outside. It didn't matter trying to prove herself with the letters, nobody would believe her anyways. All she cared about was tearing the papers, stomping them on the ground and burning them into embers that flew in the air. Even burnt paper was more free than her. She wanted to destroy the evidence of Ren in her life. She wanted to destroy his love for her, but he just wouldn't give up.

Even her own mother believed she was a murderer. Rose told her one day while doing the dishes that she should be ashamed of herself, and that she should've at least tried blaming the murder on someone who was more less known and a weirdo. Rose couldn't dare think that Ren did such a thing, not when Ren was such a respectful boy who attended church and participated in volunteer work. At least her father believed her, but it felt like he always had to remind her what happened, to never go outside alone, to never leave the farm. She wasn't even sure if her father actually believed her, or if he was mixing his persecutory delusions when he experienced episodes into (Y/N)'s life. It drove her mad, she felt her already poor mental health deteriorating into something worse.

The church kicked out her entire family from ever stepping foot on the premises. Not only was she isolated from her hometown, friends, and society; but not even church would wash away the "sins" she committed.

Her grades were slipping. Her studies were failing. Her sanity was dropping.

Everything just looked like a weapon for her to use against herself or another.

Why should she eat food? Why should she drink water? Why should she take a shower? Why should she live?

One week before graduation. One week before Ren would whisk her away from this hell of a town, and give her a new hell as his wife.

She was admitted into the hospital for a stomach pump and to sew up her wrists after having another failed suicide attempt. It's been a couple years since she last tried to kill herself, but after all the events that happened, it only seemed like the most reasonable thing to do. She had tried overdosing on pills and cutting deep into her wrists so she could bleed out, but her father came home from work early. He made it a habit to always checked up on her after work, so when he saw her unconscious on the ground with blood on her arms and empty pill bottles around her body, he grabbed Rose and made her apply a towel and pressure to (Y/N)'s wrists while he sped through town to get her to the ER. She made it out alive, much to her dismay.

She sucked at living. She sucked at trying to find happiness. She sucked at trying to die. Wasn't there anything she was good at except being a punching bag?

The hospital made her take multiple tests during her time there. She had to answer a lot of paper tests asking about her health, and she had to take tests involving her nervous system. She was diagnosed with bipolar disorder, exactly what her father has and is why he's shunned from society. She was also diagnosed with manic depression as a follow-up for her bipolar disorder.

It clicked in her head then and there. She'll never be fine. She'll never escape these emotions. She'll always be a freak, and the daughter of a freak. She'll always be the daughter codependent on mommy's money. The realization made her sob, try to suffocate herself with her pillow. She was placed under suicide watch inside the hospital, and she was kept for three days, when the doctors finally decided to let her go.

As always, word got around in school, and more rumors spread. The constant whispers, the constant feeling of eyes watching her, they were all looking at her, they were all watching her just like Ren. It was too much.

Why was she being punished for simply just existing? Even when she tries to take her life, they still look down on her.

She had her scholarship to her dream med school denied after the newspaper headlines made way to them. They sent an email about how they couldn't accept a mentally ill scholar to care for others in need. All the other colleges she applied for wouldn't accept her either.

Everything was taken from her now. She had absolutely nothing to look forward to now. How can you possibly live if you have nothing to live for?

Ren was knocking at her window again tonight. Tomorrow was graduation, tomorrow was going to be her final day free from him.

Go away. She pleaded. Please, just leave me alone.

After one too many knocks on her window, she finally walked over to the window, ripping it open and jumping out the window, tackling him and pulling down to the ground. She got up on top of him and started punching his face.

"Fuck you, Ren! Fuck you! You ruined my future! You ruined my life!" she cried, her fists hitting anything on his face, before it hurt too much to punch him anymore.

When her fists stop hitting him, he looked up at her with a sickeningly sweet smile.

"My love, I'm so proud of you for communicating your feelings with me." He cooed, his hands moving up and holding her shaking hands.

"I want to die. I want to die." She cried, her figure shaking as tears dropped on his bloodied face.

"So that's where these scars came from..." Ren muttered, running his fingers along her stitches. "My love, why must you cut your wings? If you cut too deep, you'll lose your ability to fly!"

"I don't wanna fly. I just want to die." She spoke through tears.

"I never wanted you to waste a drop of your blood. I only want mine to spill..." he spoke, his fingers going from her arms to her thighs, trying to soothe her, but the feeling only made her feel worse.

"Don't touch me! I'll kill you!" she shouted.

It’d be such an honor dying by your hands. To feel your skin on mine. Please, tell me how you’ll kill me? Will it be slow or long? Use me as you wish and dispose of me!” he laughed, taunting her as he fed into her fantasies, as if the idea was actually entertaining to him.

No. She doesn't want to kill him. She doesn't want to touch him if he'll just enjoy it and act like a masochistic freak. She just wants him to disappear from her life.

"Please, please just let me go. Please just let me die. I can't. I can't do this." (Y/N) begged. "Just let me go. Please."

"I'm sorry, but you're mine, angel. I can't live without you." He frowned. "Finders keepers."

(Y/N) cried, slapping his hands off her thighs. She stood up off his bleeding figure, climbing back into her bedroom window.

"I'll see you tomorrow. Goodnight, my love!" he smiled, blood leaking out of his mouth.

She ignored his words, shutting her window and locking it. She walked to her bathroom and washed her hands off in the sink, before crawling into her bed and crying herself to sleep.

It was graduation day, but she felt anything but excited. It's not like a high school diploma would fix everything in her life.

However, depending on how she plays this out, she just might be able to escape this.

She received her diploma on stage, with little to nobody except her parents clapping (Ren was in line, but he wasn't going to clap for the girl who "tried to frame him for murder"). She quickly exited the stage, sneaking out of the ceremony and running out to the parking lot. She hopped into her car and drove away.

For weeks she's planned this out. She sold her phone and laptop in case there was any tracking malware installed by Ren, buying a new phone and laptop. She gave her parents her phone number and told them not to give her number to absolutely anyone. She checked all over her car, inside and outside, looking at every nook and cranny inside the engine and outside for any airtags or tracking devices. She packed up all her clothes and important essentials, putting them in luggage and shoving it into her car. She closed all her old bank accounts and opened new ones now that she was 18, bank accounts her family or nobody else could access, transferring all her money into said accounts. She only had a few hundred bucks, and she refuses to stoop so low as to ask her parents for money (she does not want to be indebted to Rose). She said her goodbyes to her parents this morning, knowing she won't see them after the graduation. She even found Ren's car in the parking lot before the ceremony and slashed all his tires so he couldn't drive after her.

She didn't know where she was driving, but she was driving away from her hometown, from her family, and from Ren. She'll find a new home, and she'll learn to be happy there. She'll live inside of her car until then, and she'll search for a job until she can eventually save up money for a place.

Weeks went by as she drove in and out states, looking for a place to settle. She slept on the side of the roads, and picked up cheap food from any gas station or fast food joint she could find. She would use free wi-fi from those fast food joints or public places, and she would take showers in the public showers of trucker gas stations (she would wear socks during her showers though, like hell she'll contract ringworm or any other fungi).

Living homeless was uncomfortable and downright scary, but she felt it was better than being Ren's wife.

A month into her escape, she received a sketchy email from a supposed learning institution. The supposedly email basically summed up to them being notified that you were looking for a med school, but because of your recent arrest charges, you can't get into any schools. The institution is offering to accept her into their school under any medical degree and skill due to the fact their school doesn't accept discrimination of any kind.

It was extremely sketchy, it even had a poster of a doctor recommending euthanasia for suicidal people (honestly she could use that).

But it was something? If she actually got a degree from these guys, then she could really get her life back on track! Get a job! Become a pediatric nurse! She could actually make something out of herself and be happy on her own!

She responded back to the email, surprised to see the email reply not even ten minutes later. The email came with a short "thank you", followed by an address a few states away. (Y/N) gathered her items and walked out of the dining establishment, hopping into her car and putting on a GPS to follow the address.

This was her future, wherever it will lead her, it must at least be better than Ren.

(Y/N) woke up from her sleep, tired and disoriented. She felt a warm presence holding her, and looked up to see Andrew. Andrew's hand was placed on her head, his other arm wrapped tightly around her body, holding her close in a protective manner.

(Y/N) tried to carefully sneaking out of his hold, but it was to no use. She didn't want to wake him up, so she just resorted to lying there. She looked at her clock, noticing it was 8 A.M, far earlier than she'd like to be up by.

She looked over at Andrew and smiled. It's funny how she enjoys this practical stranger's company far more than she enjoyed Ren's, but I guess the difference between them is Ren was a stalker who didn't have any boundaries, and Andrew wasn't.

(Y/N) mentally gushed over his handsome face, resisting the urge to giggle as she saw drool on his lips.

What? She's allowed to mentally enjoy the peaceful sight. Who cares if he's a murderer staying with her rent free and she murdered his sister. She doesn't have many peaceful things in her life, shut up and let her enjoy this moment before her life goes to hell once more!

She remembered that her parents had spent the night, and that (Y/N) had express-shipped a package today for Andrew.

(Y/N) groaned, closing her eyes for a second before reopening them. She placed her hand on Andrew's arm, shaking him until he woke up.

"Uh... (Y/N)?" Andrew muttered, sleepily. "Something wrong...?"

"Morning, sleeping beauty." (Y/N) teased. "Ready to start today? We have a bunch of shopping to do."

"To spend a day with you? I'm honored." Andrew hummed sarcastically, before reaching his hand out and touching her cheek, gently pinching and tugging it. "Let's get today started, bedhead." He smirked, before ruffling her messy hair.

Hello, my stars! I know Andrew didn't show up in this like, at all, but don't worry, chapter 8 will have tons of Andrew. I'll make it up to y'all by doing a cute little date with Andrew and (Y/N), where cute, wholesome things happen. Nothing bad.

Chapter 7 is done! Phew! This was probably the fastest I've ever written a chapter for you guys. I've just had a lot of free time this week and I felt really motivated to do this chapter, so I'm glad it's out! Chapter 8 has most of its outline work done, so now it's just the matter of getting to write it! The series is starting to wrap up, but I think it probably won't end until chapter 10-12 (no promises though).

I also know that Andrew wasn't (was barely) in this chapter. I wanted to do a chapter of (Y/N)'s backstory, but I didn't expect it to get so long... I just didn't want to half-ass it. It was better separating the chapters after all though!

Don't worry, chapter 8 will have tons of Andrew. I'll make it up to y'all by doing a cute little date with Andrew and (Y/N), where cute, wholesome things happen. Nothing bad. Thank you all for reading!

Want more Andrew Graves content? Check out the Andrew Graves masterlist!

Inbox is OPEN for questions about the story and new plotlines/ideas, not for requests!

Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, chapter 4, chapter 5, chapter 6, current chapter, chapter 8, chapter 9 (in the works)

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infamous-if · 1 year

Text

I know, I know. It took 2 months to write the second drabble from the poll but...this is not even a drabble anymore. Instead, it's more of a collection of scenes mostly because if I do write how Orion found and began managing the band it would be an entire chapter. I will say that I condensed this due to that, but if I ever do write the whole thing it might look a *little* different. I had to cut corners and shorten scenes for the sake of length. Still, hope you like it! (This is 4, 363 words btw. what is wrong with me) I should probably find a more efficient way to share such long works but whatevs. As always, ignore any mistakes or typos or wordy sentences or sentences that probably make no sense upon reading it a second time. I don't edit drabbles and I always just publish the first drafts. haha.

“…Love me and hate me, I don’t mind as long as you take me—”

A low grumble rises in Orion’s throat when the song pauses, the car falling into an unfamiliar silence just as it slows in front of a red light. His large hands tighten their grip on the wheel, and his eyes glide to his co-worker, Marty, just as he’s pulling his hand away from the PAUSE button on the console.

“Is there a reason you’re touching my stuff?” Orion asks, his voice carrying its usual calm that holds a level of ice that has even his superiors shuddering when they think he’s not looking.

Marty licks his lips, his face twisting into its usual expression of guilt. Orion softens his face for his friend’s sake.

Orion Quinn knows the impact he has on people. The rumors that plague him have reached his ears on multiple occasions; he’s a shell of what he once was, never having gotten over the one who got away. He’s detached, the merciless worker that the boss goes to when he’s in need of someone who can do the firing.

He’s the one people are afraid of crossing or talking casually to in fear of letting something slip. People fear him more than they fear the execs.

It wasn’t always like this, sure. Once, Orion used to smile freely, used to talk openly and wear vulnerability like a favorite coat. But then the divorce happened and sides were taken. Suddenly, the armor he didn’t know he had was reinforced, dented and bruised from a battle he didn’t expect to fight, but reinforced nonetheless.

Never date your co-workers.

“The song is terrible, man.” Marty sighs, running a hand through his oily brown hair when he plops back in the seat. The same seat he pushed back at a 120-degree angle. Admittedly, it makes Orion’s nerves flare up. He says nothing; he has enough self-awareness to know that complaining about his seat is a bit too much, even for him. “I was doing both our ears a favor.”

The light changes and Orion absently drums his fingers on the wheel as he drives on ahead, eyes gliding outside to soak in the densely populated street underneath the rising sun. “Yeah.” The word comes out in a resigned breath. “I was hoping it’d get better.”

“We were on the bridge,” Marty throws back. “The only way it could get better is if it ended.” Orion’s lip twitches and of course, Marty can’t let it go. ”Oh! That was an almost-smile.” He leans forward to poke Orion’s rib.

Orion lets out a laugh before his face quickly drops.

Marty grins, plopping his elbow on the ledge of the car door. “All I’m saying is you’ve been listening to demos nonstop this whole month. Not once have I seen you even mildly excited for any of them.”

Orion grits his teeth. “I haven’t had anything substantial to show the team in ages. Our last artist pulled out on signing with us last minute. Our established artists aren’t selling as well anymore. The industry is getting oversaturated—“

“—and we need to be ahead of the curve. Yadda, yadda.” Marty rolls his eyes. “Do you ever just relax? Damn. That stick up your ass is ten-feet lon—“

Marty chokes on his words when Orion’s eyes cut to his. “Say anything else and I’m kicking you out of my car.”

Marty pouts but relents anyway, choosing to change the subject. “What about dating?”

Orion keeps his eyes on the road but quirks a brow. “What about it?”

“You know…” Marty starts, gesticulating vaguely as he searches for the right words. “Maybe putting yourself out there could help you relax. Or even inspire you—“

“No.”

“What? Okay, but—"

“Not interested.”

“You didn’t even know what I was going to sa—“

“Don’t have to.”

Marty huffs and says nothing for a long moment. Neither of them rush to fill the silence; normal for Orion but unusual for his infinitely more talkative friend. It’s only when he pulls into Carolina Records’ parking lot that Marty speaks again and Orion realizes his silence was really just contemplation.

“I know the divorce was difficult,” he starts, delicate, “but—“

Orion’s jaw clenches.

“— that doesn’t mean you should give up.”

Orion sits there a moment, fingers clenching into fists. “It’s not giving up if I never tried in the first place.” He swings open the door and steps out, the car door slamming with a hint of finality.

. . .

Carolina Records boasts a twenty-floor skyscraper made up of floor-to-ceiling glass windows and sleek, dark marble floor. Orion has been here since he graduated college; going from a measly intern to an A&R representative responsible for finding two of the most promising artists in the company.

That was a year ago. Since then, the well of new talent has dried up and Orion doesn’t know what to do.

Of course, he was offered higher positions, all of which he quickly denied. Orion always had a knack for numbers and trends, discovering what new genre is going to come to the forefront, seeing what kind of music the general public is listening to. Music: he understands it better than people. His understanding is almost clinical: while people listen to it for enjoyment, Orion seeks the patterns, the feelings that every beat and scale and vocal run they invoke. He takes it apart and puts it together like a surgeon does a patient. It just makes sense to him.

He could do so much more, he knows that, but none of that interests him.

The music—that’s what he likes.

Discovering new talent is what excites him. Which is why this odd dry spell has him walking with gritted teeth and tension between his shoulders-blades. He has to do something.

“Mr. Quinn.”

Orion nods at a woman who passes by the hallway, ignoring the way Marty does a whole spin when he tracks her retreating frame down the hall.

Another one. This time a man from the marketing department. “Good Morning, Mr. Quinn.”

“Morning.”

Marty scoffs when the man continues walking, not sparing him a glance.

“Am I chopped liver or something?” Marty complains.

“Mr. Quinn, hey!”

“Hi.” Orion nods his head once and presses the elevator button. When his eyes land on a frowning Marty he says, “You’re just not sociable.”

“Huh?!” Marty then lets out an embarrassingly high-pitched sputter of a laugh. “And you are?”

Orion frowns. “Yes.”

Another laugh. “You’re smart, dude, you know it’s more because of that”— he gestures vaguely at him—“than your social skills.”

The elevator doors open with a cheerful bell and they step inside. “What?”

“You know.” Marty shrugs. “Your face. You look like you should be on a billboard advertising overpriced cologne with your shirt unbuttoned and your hand in your hair talking about your luxurious life or something.”

“That’s…specific.”

Marty shrugs. “I read a lot of GQ.”

Orion wrinkles his nose when they spin to face the doors. “While it is true I would be considered objectively handsome by societal standards—“

“Oh, fuck off.”

“—I don’t think that’s the case.” This time Orion lets out a small smile. “Or maybe it is?” He quirks a brow at his co-worker. “Should I send a gift basket to my parents? A ‘thank-you-for-the-superior-DNA gift?’”

Marty shakes his head. “You know, when you do try to be funny you still sound like an asshole.”

Orion hums, the joke tickling him enough for him to let out his first smile of the day.

The elevator doors sing their arrival and they bid farewell once they part to go to their respective offices. Orion strides to his corner office where another one of his co-workers, Kass, is standing with a box in her hands.

“This week’s demos.” Orion is just putting his arms out when she plops the boxes on them. “You should really stop requesting unsolicited demos. It’s such an outdated way of doing things.”

Orion ignores her and unlocks his office door, turning the knob and pushing it open with his hip. His office is barren but spacious, with high windows overlooking the city. Marty told him once that people would kill to have his office, but really it’s just like any other space. What’s an office without a productive person to work in it? Orion hasn’t done anything of meaning in weeks.

Sighing, he drops the box on the table unceremoniously, picking up the first CD on the top of the pile. GROUNDED IN REALITY reads the title, and it’s so apt that he almost chucks the CD in the trash on that very fact alone. Still, he’s nothing if not fair. Another sigh escapes him and he gets to listening.

. . .

Helpless.

That’s how he feels.

After hours of listening, the music has long since blurred together in a portrait of uninspired melodies and generic, radio-friendly lyrics. Nothing stood out, nothing made him want to dig into the song in search for more, nothing made him feel.

Is it me? Am I the problem?

Jaw clenched, Orion fishes out his phone, the usual flinch coming to him when he sees the background. He forgot to change it, and it’s always an (unwanted) surprise whenever he sees a picture of them together.

One year ago. The beach. Happy.

Shaking his head, he sends a quick text to his mother telling her that he’ll have to raincheck on their dinner. He still has half a box of songs left. Looks like he’ll be staying late.

“Yo, Orion!” A knock. “Let’s go! I want to driiink.”

Or not.

Marty strides in without waiting for an invitation, a grin on his face. “Tab is on me.”

“Do you ever work?” Orion asks, eyes half-lidded in equal parts annoyance and indifference.

His friend frowns. “This is work.”

“I don’t think getting drunk is in the job description.” Orion looks down, absently clicking on the button of his mouse in an effort to busy his hands.

“Wah, wah. Don’t be a fucking party pooper.”

“Too late.”

Marty shoots him a look. “A few artists are playing tonight. Call this recruitment.” He uses spirit fingers. “Maybe you’ll even loosen up for once.” When Orion looks at him, a brow raised, Marty drops his hands. “Yes, I do my job sometimes. Don’t look so surprised.”

“It’s not that,” Orion starts. He doesn’t immediately continue. Instead, they simply stare at each other. Marty wiggles his brows as Orion narrows his gaze. “When you say the tab is on you—“

Marty whips out a black card. “Company card, baby!”

Orion palms his face with a long groan as Marty begins to moonwalk across Orion’s office. “I was perfectly fine staying inside.” Even though he says this, a moment later he stands and grabs his trenchcoat from the back of the chair. “And you’re driving.”

“What!” Marty stomps his foot as he follows him out. “Nooooo.”

. . .

The bar sits in a livelier part of the city, a part that Orion doesn’t often find himself in. It’s less about the scene and more about the memories associated with every damn corner of this place. Orion can pluck a memory from his mind like a petal from a rose garden: the diner they went to and fought for fifteen minutes over who would get to pay the bill, the park they spent their lunches at.

The shop where he bought the ring.

“This place is golden,” Marty says, breaking Orion out of the string of memories he wishes he could erase forever, “it’s like a real gritty, underground hole-in-the-wall vibe.”

“Sounds like fun,” comes out of Orion in a dour tone that has Marty rolling his eyes.

They stride through the neon glow of the brick hall until it opens up to a dimly lit bar. The space is humble; the sparse crowd is compensated by the energy of the performers on the stage.

“Stacy, do you remember when I mowed your lawn…?”

“Is the band really covering Fountains of Wayne?” Orion says through gritted teeth.

Marty bites his lower lip, his obvious attempt to stifle laughter only making Orion’s faux horror flare even more. “Maybe.” Marty spins around, shimmying his shoulder. “You don’t agree that Stacy’s Mom Has Got It Going on?” Marty then realizes something and laughs. “You know, I dated a Stacy once. Weirdly enough, her mom wasn’t that bad looking—“

Orion sighs and quickly moves to the bar. “I need a drink.”

Whatever hope Orion had of finding new talent is gone in the face of the line-up. It quickly becomes obvious that the performers are composed of people who aren’t taking the ‘gig’ seriously or patrons that are half-drunk and stumbling on the small stage.

Worse that the place is pathetically empty; it’s only them two and three other stragglers eating stale fries and bobbing their heads to the music, more out of obligatory politeness than anything else. Orion is suddenly regretting taking Marty up on his offer.

Orion drinks his lager through periodic gulps, his desire to forget this night growing with every person that performs. The memories of this area coupled with his lack of work lately make him dizzy. He wants to escape. Quit. Scream. All of it.

“Get me another,” Orion says, much to Marty’s delight.

More and more people perform until Orion has lost any focus on the stage. Instead, he entertains himself by watching the game on the TV, having long given up on finding any new promising talent in a place like this.

“Next up we have”—the bartender stops, her eyes narrowing as she tries to read something off an index card—“er, [band]. Yeah. Give them a round of applause.”

With how few people are in attendance, the applause is less applause and more awkward clapping that quickly dies after two.

The people on stage are younger. Immediately, Orion notices that they’re equipped with actual instruments instead of relying on the karaoke machine in the corner. A decisive point in their favor, he decides.

“You said this was a gig…” He hears one of them say to what appears to be the lead singer. The boy wears a red hat, as well as an assortment of chains on his neck. Three other band members set up their instruments, trying not to look too disappointed by the turnout. Still, even with the lager creating a slight fog in his head, Orion knows that look. The moment when hope dies, burning like a napkin to a flame.

“No,” the lead singer says pointedly as they adjust their mic, “I said this was a favor.” In that moment, the singer nods their head at the bartender, who shoots them an appreciative thumbs-up. “A paid favor.”

The boy shakes his head but snorts. “I guess.”

Once they’re set up, the singer looks ahead, gazing at the bar. Their eyes briefly settle on Orion as they gaze at the few faces in the room. “Hey!” they say, chirpy. “We’re [band]. Thanks for coming out!”

A chorus of muttering replies.

Marty taps on the bar. “Wanna head out?”

Orion, unable to look away, shakes his head. “No. I want to see this.”

The next few minutes feel like a dream. Orion is in a daze as the song plays, the beats piercing through him. The voice sends goosebumps up his arms, the instruments weave together in a perfect harmony that has Orion’s heart racing. When the song ends, it’s too soon. He wants it to keep going. He doesn’t want it to end.

He wants more.

“Thanks!” The singer says to a smattering of slightly enthusiastic applause. This is the most energy everyone has had all night. They turn, grab their things, and disappear through the curtain. Orion bursts up….

…spilling his drink on the table.

“Oh!” the bartender squeaks as Marty hisses.

“Aw, fuck.” Orion curses, and then flinches. “Sorry. Uh….sorry.” He doesn’t know what his apology is for. Dropping the drink, cussing, or speeding away before he could help clean it up in order to catch the band backstage?

“Hey!” Marty calls. “Where are you going?”

Orion ignores him. He has a one-track mind right now, one focused on finding the band that just made him feel like he hit the jackpot. This. This is what he’s been looking for.

The door swings open, and the band stop mid-conversation to look at Orion, who busted through the door without so much as a plan or script in place. Instead, he simply stands there.

“Uh.” One girl, flaunting bright blue hair, says. “Yeah?”

Orion reveals his card, feeling a bit like a robot. He moves on automatic, working through the many thoughts in his head to utter the rest of his words. “Do you have a manager?”

. . .

“You want to manage us?”

The din of the coffee shop sings with the sound of plates and aimless chatter. It’s been two days since he heard them perform back at the bar, and Orion has been running through his pitch the way one does before an interview. He’s never been this…nervous? Uncertain? In his life.

“Yes,” is Orion’s only response. He sits on one side of the table while the band sits on the other; an invisible wall between them. He can see it, their apprehension. He is not one of them.

Not yet, at least.

“Wait.” The boy Orion learned is named Rowan leans forward, fingers on the table. “How do we know this isn’t a scam?”

“I’m not asking for money. All I ask is for you to show up to play for my boss. That’s it.” Auditions are a lost art. Nowadays artists are recruited through viral internet songs and connections. Two things that always exhausted Orion. It hasn’t been just about the music in a long time.

Their eyes widen. They all exchange looks, equal parts excited and wary.

“Why?” [MC], who he learned is the sole singer of the band, asks.

Because you made me feel something. Because listening to you is the first time I felt human in a long time.

He imagines himself waving off those words like mist. “Because you’re the first band that has caught my attention. And it’s not easy to catch my attention.”

The band member named Iris snorts.

“I’m not trying to be arrogant,” he says blandly, leaning back in his chair to fold his arms over his chest. “It’s the truth.”

“Where do you work?” Another member, Devyn, asks.

“Carolina Records.”

Multiple pairs of eyes widen.

“Holy shit.” Jazzy laughs. “The Carolina Records?”

Orion nods, used to this kind of reaction. Starry-eyed artists are pretty much the same when it comes to Carolina. “Yes.” He leans forward, his heart racing. “Just one audition. That’s all I ask.”

He watches as they all exchange looks; a silent language only they share. After an agonizing moment, [MC] turns to him and nods. “When?”

. . . .

Orion has been pacing for the last half hour.

He stands outside Carolina’s humble theater space, chewing on his nails as he waits for his boss, Jacob Hill, and a smattering of other executives and shareholders that will be the final word in whether Orion can work with [band]. He hasn’t asked for something this big in so long that Jacob Hill immediately said yes, more out of excitement and surprise than anything else. Orion did produce two of their most profitable artists in the company.

The elevator doors open and Orion stops in place, head whipping up to see them walking through the hall in a wave of black suits and greased hair. Orion brushes down his shirt, trying to dampen his nerves. Jesus. Nerves? Get a grip, Orion.

He doesn’t know how to stand as he waits for them to approach. Hands in pockets? Arms crossed? Orion is so indecisive he just resorts to standing straight, arms at his sides.

“Mr. Hill.” Orion shakes his hand, clearing his throat. He makes his polite greetings to the rest of the team and says, “Thank you for making time for me.”

“Always, Orion.” Jacob slaps a large hand on his back. “You’re one of my best. You should ask me for favors more.”

Orion lets out a small, slightly nervous laugh. “Ah, you know. I like to—“

“—do things on your own,” Jacob finishes, a soft smile on his face. “I get it.”

He slowly looks up, meeting Jacob’s eyes. In them he can see the familiar pity he’s gotten since the divorce.

It’s Orion’s fault, really. If he didn’t isolate himself and turn into what he is now, people wouldn’t look at him and assume he’s broken inside.

Would they be wrong in their assumption, though? Am I broken inside?

“Shall we?” another executive says, and Orion bobs his head in a nod, pushing away the image of Jacob’s face.

Inside is a small theater, the stage just big enough for one artist. The seats are plush leather, the lights dim but blue. Jacob always likes the spectacle, and he catered this space to feel like a real performance for possible signees. Orion decides against sitting, too nervous to do anything but stand in the back, giving them the signal he taught them in his pep talk before they came.

[MC] nods. “Um. Hi. We’re [band]. I’m [MC] and this is Iris, Rowan, Devyn, and Jazzy. And um…this is [song].”

Orion flinches at the lackluster introduction. Doesn’t matter, he thinks, unfamiliarly optimistic, the music will do the talking.

And it does.

But not in the way he thought.

All throughout the song, Orion peeks at Jacob and his team. He wants to celebrate when he sees them bobbing their heads, wants to curse when they get on their phones. Orion has never worried this much in his whole career. He’s never wanted something so bad.

He’s never allowed himself to want. Not after the divorce.

He didn’t think he was deserving of getting what he wanted.

The song ends, and Orion lets out a breath. There’s muffled chatter between the men, and on stage the band crowd together, hopping in place as they let out their remaining nerves.

Jacob stands, the rest following. Orion speeds ahead, wanting to see the thoughts on his face. Instead, Jacob simply regards him with thin lips.

“They were…good,” Jacob whispers, putting a hand on Orion’s shoulder and guiding him out of the room and to the empty hall, “but I think we’re going to go in another direction.”

Orion’s positivity leaks out of him like an open faucet. “What.”

Jacob inhales through his nose. “Look, the singer is talented. They all are. I understand why you like them but…” He shakes his head. “I don’t think the guys see it. And plus,” he shrugs, “they don’t have what we’re looking for.”

Orion’s brows furrow. His stomach drops in itself and his mouth dries. “They have another song. They could play it—“

“Orion.” Jacob gives him that pitying expression again. Fucking hell. He wants to smack that expression off his face. “I know you’ve been…off, since the divorce. You haven’t been on top of your game, and I’ve been giving you your space. It’s not easy, especially since you worked together—“

“I’m fine,” he says tightly.

“—but you can’t…fixate on something to get over it. You need to do it the healthy way. The old Orion would’ve brought me someone with pizzazz. With that unique Orion touch, you know?” Jacob pulls him close. Orion is reduced to a scolded child, unable to do anything but listen. “This isn’t the Orion I know. You usually bring me diamonds.”

“I—“ Orion swallows. “I’m trying.” And it’s the most honest thing he’s said in ages. He’s trying. And it’s not working. He’s been trying the day he signed that fucking divorce paper and signed the only life he’s known away.

“I know you are,” Jacob says, squeezing his shoulder. “Sometimes we miss, and that’s alright.”

The rest of the group filter out and both Jacob and Orion step back, trying to hide any sign of their tense conversation. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Orion nods slowly, the lump in his throat growing as he feels multiple eyes on him. His jaw is clenched, his eyes are downturned. He can hardly look at his boss.

He stands there, frozen, forced to listen to their careless chatter as they walk down the hall. The moment they stepped out of those doors, they forgot about the band. The same band that made him feel something, the first time since his divorce. The same band he can’t get out of his head. The same band that proved he is not broken. He can still feel.

And they don’t even fucking care.

“I quit,” Orion says, the words coming out of him before he could even think. Jacob and Co turn around, twin expressions of shock on their faces. Orion looks up, straightening, trying to look even an inch of the Old Him.

“What?” Jacob blurts.

“I quit.” Orion swallows. “I’ll formally hand in my resignation tomorrow.” He bows, trying to muster up the little respect and professionalism he has in him. “I’m sorry.”

“Orion—“

He spins around, walking back inside.

The band is still on stage, this time all packed up and ready to go. When the door closes, they all look up, their hopeful and wide eyes on Orion as he walks down to the stage.

He stops in front of it. He puts two palms on the stage, looking at the members of the band he will take to the top. He promised it to himself…two minutes ago.

“I’m going to ask again,” Orion says through his teeth, his heart racing with the adrenaline of his quitting. What the fuck is he doing? And why does it feel so good? “Do you still need a manager?”

When he looks up, the band stares at him in silence.

He witnesses [MC] look behind him at the door, where Jacob and his team left. As if realizing something, they look back down. “Yeah. You okay with another artist in your roster?”

“Yes.” Orion nods. He’s okay with it.

Because all he needs is one.

#orion quinn #drabble #looks around #scratches head #infamous

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