#its run on Broadway just finished but everyone should go read it

[thebrainofmae]

Fat Ham is an insanely good play on so many levels but the thing that really makes me go insane about it is the way it manages to so brilliantly and successfully take Hamlet, one of the most famous tragedies of all time, and give it a happy ending simply by having the characters say “I know what play we’re in, I know what the audience is expecting, but actually I don’t owe them shit and I’m not gonna do this.”

The last fucking line (before the little epilogue) is juicy (hamlet) turning to the audience and saying “Well…I hope you don’t mind if we carry on.”

I mean !

[mooremars]

Camelot 2023 Act 1 ramblings about the music and book and also the visuals again because turns out 3,000 words wasn't enough.

I cannot possibly recommend anyone actually read this because it is so absurdly, comically long but I needed to get some feelings out. Also it's in two parts because apparently Tumblr has a maximum character count and I hit it.

Overture

• Firstly, female conductor, we love to see it

• I love overtures and entr'actes and this show's is so good

• Shoutout to the orchestra

• I have never experienced a bad Broadway orchestra but still doesn't mean they do not deserve serious praise

• Does just the instrumental of Camelot make me very emotional and think about fundamental human goodness?

• Yes, this show did its job

• The end of the If Ever I Should Leave You part is just permanantly in my brain as the part during bows where they point to the orchestra

• Whatever the music that plays as everyone starts walking onstage is epic

• The vibe is set and I'm ready

Act 1 Scene 1: A hilltop near the castle at Camelot

• I've said it once and I'll say it one thousand times, I am obsessed with the way they've used the space in this show

• I love that they can walk up the back of the stage, I love that they have the stairs in front, I love that they've got so many exit and entrance points

• Sorry to the actors who probably had to do a lot of running around but it was fun for me

• As much as I like spectacle, I don't inherently prefer it over this kind of more minimalist thing

• But I do feel like they did a good job at conveying scale and drama even though the set is extremely minimal

• "I have the exact same amount of information that you do" just immediately starts the show off on the right foot

• This is a new take and I was here for it instantly

• And such a funny way to deliver a ton of exposition, this will be the first of what will become the prevailing theme of my rambling which is I adore Sorkin's writing beyond measure

• Merlyn's delivery drenched in sarcasm for every line is perfect and we clearly see where Arthur gets it from

• Specifically "do you know what calamity means?"

• But also "things in England are changing too fast"/"words that have never before been spoken"

• Establishing Sagramore in a funny way that becomes so serious by the end

• We jump right into the Sorkin dialouge rhythm and it feels so right

• There's the perfect amount of everyone overlapping each other and finishing the other characters' thoughts

• And also the jaunty music when most of the guards leave, like I don't exactly know why it sounds like that since it doesn't fit but I love it anyway

• I know it's part of at least the movie's score but like to me it's still strange, I've been calling it clown music in my head

• The difficulty finding the king exchange and also the pheasant hunting exchange are so funny and set the tone so well

• Can you see I'm attempting not the write out every line of dialouge?

• But also I love that we get this little build to Arthur to wonder what the hell is going on with this guy

• Because if you're me, you've come into this show with basically the association with JFK and that's it

• So I had no clue and was curious

• The knights have like mostly terrible points but Sagrimore's delivery of "snear all you like but five minutes ago we were at war with that girl's county and tomorrow I'll be swearing an oath to protect her with my life"

• He's not wrong

• The knights are so good, the actors are perfect

• Every bit of casting is inspired and those three are no exception

• "Arthur get the hell out of the tree"

• Again with no context, the tree really got me

• "Hiding, I'm obviously hiding" - I am instantly in, the delivery on this line is so funny

• Okay fine I was in from the way he said hello, also a hilarious delivery

• My roommate brought up immediately how effective it is not to have him do a British accent and how it again just makes Arthur relatable - genius

• Whatever voice he's doing is a perfect choice

• Also young Arthur is so much the right choice it's staggering to me that they ever did it any other way

• They thread the needle so perfectly of Arthur being young but not in a way where he's like an incompetent child

• Which I feel like is actually how some of the other versions with older actors still managed to come off

• But this Arthur is just young and trying

• "My mouth disconnects from my brain"/"I've witnessed that"

• As like a character note, I love that exchange but I also was worried this was gonna be what it usually is, which is a male character who cannot treat a woman like a human person

• But no, Arthur has absolutely no problem with that, his mouth only disconnects from his brain when he's trying to confess feelings and that is 1000% more endearing

• "Years of tutoring in philosophy and law, why didn't you ever teach me about love and marriage?"/"You're not marrying for love and there's nothing about it that can be taught."

• To which my roommate that I dragged to see this twice and who has just been forced to talk about this show with me, maintains that perhaps you could maybe convey that relationships are about communication

• That lesson might've helped just a bit

• "You're not marrying for love" like Merlyn is trying to warn Arthur and he sure did not listen

• "They should be reading" Arthur babe they literally can't, it's the Middle Ages

• Also the establishment of no magic is so deftly handled

• Arthur complaining that people think that dragons are real and you get exactly what this world is

• I love that I Wonder What the King is Doing tonight becomes his noble king music

• Also I just absolutety love any time anything has a recurring musical theme it just lights up some part of my brain every time

• The yelling of "he's scared" and all of the subsequent lyrics in that spot is again hilarious and just very good characterization

• Also the delivery of the slaying a dragon part whatever that singing accent is I love it

• Actually the way he sings all the parts where he's imagining what other people are saying

• The other characters have a lot of songs that are gorgeous and require some incredible vocals and songs with fun lyrics and fun performances but not at lot of them get to infuse this much personality and character into the songs through just the delivery

• Don't know if that's from the original or not but it's one of my favorite characters introductions I've seen in a bit

• From what I've seen this is definitely an escalation of previous versions and I adore it

• He's so annoyed, he hates this shit so much and he's so funny

• I mean also lots of credit to the lyrics because they are obviously very funny

• I love this song a lot

• Arthur's "shhhhit" when he realizes that he's managed to run into his future wife

• The multi-layered complication line, so quintessential Arthur

• The contrast between the gorgeous Julie Andrews channeling singing and Genny's brashness in her movement and dialouge

• Like obviously that's already in the lyrics but the book and direction just stretches it

• Everyone knew Phillipa Soo was going to be perfect and she is

• A lot of my strongest impressions are about Arthur

• Because I had no idea who the actor was and because in the limited amount of adaptations I'm familiar with of this whole story, Arthur is the bad guy or a good but extremely boring guy

• But I knew going in that I was gonna love Guenevere and Phillipa Soo even if I've never seen her on stage before

• So it was unsurprising

• Like my expectations were sky-high and she's so talented in every way and the writing for Genny is so good that she exceeded them anyway

• And she's so damn funny

• Obviously the whole rescued in the wood bit is already just a good joke and I'm honestly impressed with how funny the original songs are

• I am a sucker for the thing in stories where we know what's going to happen because they've been told so many times

• When they have a character say something the audience knows is foreshadowing

• "Cause a little war" is what I'm thinking of in this moment but there are tons and every time it's a hit with me

• The delivery of the clause one bit is perfect and her backing Arthur into falling on the bench and then just turning around and back to angelic singing

• The turnaround from the aggressiveness to the extremely soft and feminine singing is brilliant

• "The more knights slaughter each other, the fewer there are to slaughter the rest of us"

• The exchange about the dowry still being in the carriage

• Their deliveries are so funny

• They immediately bounce off of each other perfectly

• And Genny not even escaping with the dowry she's supposed to be using to buy her freedom, amazing

• "What is power uuuused for? That is a very interesting question."

• Genny just immediately knocking Arthur's socks off

• Trying to write out some of the word deliveries he does is so hard but there are a few that absolutely kill me

• They've known each other for five minutes and they're already having a debate

• "I've known kings, I'm daughter of a king so marrying a king doesn't have the same allure for me that it apparently has for you"

• She just speeds through those words at the end and it's great

• "They run to here" is another bit of hilarious delivery but I also love the contrast it sets up between Arthur trying to be kingly in a way that doesn't fit versus later when he does it his own way

• I could listen to them go back and forth saying why for ten minutes

• Genny's incredulousness when he says the weather

• I can't remember but I think she's walking away and then just turns to stare at him in absolute confusion

• Like he's so ridiculous that she can't help but engage

• I did a quick bit of intermission math and we know this takes place seven months before the Lusty Month of May which is obviously happening in May

• So Arthur is literally singing to Genny about how there's no winter until December while at best - assuming the one month later and six months later are rounded up - it is snowing at the absolute beginning of November

• More likely October

• No wonder Genny thinks he's full of shit

• His improv did not pan out

• This is a joke for me, thank you Aaron Sorkin

• Do love that canonically, Arthur is in fact singing the song Camelot - that he just made up in a panic - what a dork

• Genny's little interjections of skepticism are all so funny

• Also just instantly establishing her as someone you love

• She's perfect

• But my favorite is "my escape is time sensitive, do you understand that?"/Arthur still singing/"no he does not"

• These actors are both hilarious, the amount of stuff required of musical theater actors continues to blow my mind

• Like not only to do the whole singing, dancing, and acting thing but then you have to convey it to a whole theater but also not overact to the people up close and be able to do comedy and drama how

• I was in practically the back row up top and not a good view but extremely close (like seeing the actors spit close) on the side for the under 35 tickets and then also in very good seats and the performances by literally everyone never felt too much or not enough

• "Are there any other people in these woods you could recommend?"

• Also this moment which is the cutest thing you've ever heard

• Do I remember exactly what happened? No. But do I know it was adorable? Yes.

• "And we have poets in France"/"Oh yes of course... But do you?"/Genny angrily naming French poets/"Understood" and he's already singing again

• The entire performance of this song and especially getting her to sing along, so charming in the most annoying way

• But also she's sort of into it which is cute

• I do see on YouTube that there was a bit more to this French poets discussion which was probably right to cut but I am delighted to find literally anything new

• Sidebar

• I have been known to have issues with staying present when I watch things and not letting my mind start wandering. And one of the reasons I knew Camelot was good the first time was that I was totally engaged the whole show. But the last time, I did have the one moment where a thought popped into my brain during this song that completely threw me out of it

• And that thought was "this Barbie has taken a carriage ride to hell" after Genny says that line and like why brain?

• (For the record Genny and Arthur are both Barbies. They are everything. Lance is just Ken. Perfecting his body and soul is his beach. He is Kenough. Arthur and Genny have a terrible day every day. Lance only has a terrible day if Arthur and/or Genny look at him.)

• (I believe I have come up with a combination of words that have never been spoken before and perhaps a genuinely new opinion on a thousand year old legend)

• (In a bad way)

• Anyway

• The pure chaotic comedy of the knights finding Arthur and Genny freaking out is not something I can articulate but I adored so much

• Phillipa Soo is stealing the whole show in this one

• Does Genny come out of her hiding spot with her mouth wide open before she gets on the ground or am I misremembering?

• "We call that a sin of omission your majesty"

• With no remose "oh we call it that too"

• "Were you never going to tell me?"/"No I was going to get to it"/"When?"/"After I told you about the weather"

• Not a single bit of remose again

• I don't have anything to say, I just think the exchange is very funny

• I love not making Arthur any kind of royalty, he is truly just some guy

• Like I'm reading The Once and Future King and Arthur's lineage is so weirdly complicated and I just don't care, I like him as some guy

• "He discovered he didn't have his sword because I left it at... a house, that doesn't matter, that's my fault"

• Now that's a line that is funny on time one and fills you with dread afterwards

• The most exasperated "I was just going to borrow it for the day"

• Something about the delivery of "when I opened my eyes the square was filled with people shouting god save the king"

• Like Arthur never actually says out loud that he didn't want to be king but Genny gets it right away

• "I see you now, you're just a boy wearing a crown you never wanted sitting atop a throne two sizes too big"

• Just an absolute cutting response but Arthur doesn't take it that way at all, he's so earnest

• She reads him to filth but it doesn't even rattle him, he just takes it because it's true

• Gorgeous writing in what she says and his response

• "But provenance has put us both here, both of us highness and want it or not we are commanded to wear that crown and to grow into that throne"

• Chills, the delivery is outstanding

• We finally get King Arthur

• And Genny being convinced, all it took was one genuine moment and she's ready to engage

• Then Arthur again just taking so passionately about what he wants Camelot to be

• No wink, no sarcasm, no shame

• This show is unabashedly sincere and optimistic and I love it

• Genny falls in love with Arthur, I fall in love with Arthur, Genny falls in love with Camelot the idea, I fall in love with Camelot the show

• Everyone including the audience and Arthur were already in love with Genny for Phillipa Soo reasons so there's no moment for that one

• I feel like the trope-y thing would be to have Genny be a cynic here but no, she's just as much of an idealist as him

• She put up a little front of cynicism at the beginning but as soon as she gets the option of hope, she's choosing it instantly

• "Or you can stay. And together we may discover if power might be harnessed as a force of good"

• Like he's instantly treating her as a partner in this endeavor

• And I Wonder What the King is Doing Tonight playing under it so beautifully and then the seamless musical transition back to Camelot is so perfect

• I am music stupid so I wish I had something to say about it but your songs have got to be tight to flow that way

• "I don't know if I'm worthy" also just a heartbreaker

• We don't really get to hear anything about Genny's life in France but she's clearly very opinionated and competent and I wonder if besides the whole wanting romance and adventure thing

• She also had an idea of what the life of a queen is like

• After all she's the daughter of one

• And she didn't imagine having this kind of role in actual ruling and doesn't know whether she can live up to this ideal that Arthur has set

• Like maybe she thought the only way she'd get to impact the world was knights killing each other over her or being the cause of a war, at least that's something

• But now she has a chance at more and she's grabbing it

• Genny singing the reprise is so beautiful thematically - it makes me a little teary just watching her instantly be like I see your dream and understand it and I want to be part of it but via some of the best singing maybe ever

• Such an amazing recontextualization from the original

• I've seen little clips of this reprise from 1961 and this one just feels warmer and more meaningful because it's about the ideals and not them confessing love at first sight

• And somehow more romantic

• They're instantly established as a team who share intellectual and philosophical similarities

• To so quickly convey that and make it believable

• It not only cements their relationship but makes them characters you root for

• And then the sounds of people coming in as soon as or maybe even before they get to finish singing together, like it's their world and they're falling for each other but there's no time, they're king and queen now and that will always supercede their relationship

• Also something about the moment when Arthur introduces her to the court just also really gets me

• "She's nice... some of the time"

• It's cute how smitten he is with her, all of her, immediately

• "Something about her makes me want to be a better king" (so Arthur is actually capable of expressing a romantic thought, don't get used it it)/"She's very attractive"/"Oh she is but it's not that"/"Arthur"/"Well it's not just that"

• I love the way they flip the speech Arthur gives Genny from the original about not feeling like a king until now meeting her

• But now that they've actually gotten to know each other a bit and it's after she's agreed to stay it actually makes sense here

• I do also love that even though he can't manage it to Genny's face, he does feel completely comfortable expressing his feelings about her to Merlyn

• The "oh she is" is so cute, he's so excited

• The music under his conversation with Merlyn before he starts just monologuing, very ominous

• I'm obsessed with it

• "We finally have peace" is another line delivery that I just need to sit and think about

• The joy of it, the relief

• Again the idea that Arthur has been a king at war this whole time

• Merlyn mentions, as part of a joke but still, almost as soon as we meet Arthur that he's fought armies

• He's not optimistic about the world because he hasn't seen conflict

• He's more determined because he sees what it does

• Channeling best man in all fiction Waymond Wang this is how I fight energy and that's very my shit

• Very much my shit might be a slight understatement

• It might not be surprising to learn that Arthur is my favorite thing about this show, they revamped this character so well

• So much of my life was spent in the media age of male anti-heroes and I love that we've returned to a point of male heroes

• Arthur idealistically talking about how they can finally start making Camelot for everyone and Merlyn walking off stage while the ensemble sings I think the part from the cut song and I assume some new stuff that's very Medieval church music

• So so good

• "What do I do next?" so eager and then just the emotional drop-off to his scared little boy when it becomes clear what's happening "Merlyn?"

• Stunning performance

• I think Arthur falls to his knees at some point but I'm already doubting

• The "what the hell do I do now?"

• Perfect scene ender

Act 1, Scene 2: The King's study - one month later

• The transition music between scenes is always good

• It's gonna be a struggle not to just quote this whole scene

• "Arthur, please call me Arthur" is so desperate like he has no one now, no actual human connections to him as a person instead of a king now that Merlyn is gone

• And then asking what she was called back home, he wants connection so badly

• And probably he still feels guilty for taking her from her home to be his wife

• "I was a royal princess, I didn't have friends"

• Well there is a reason they're both terrible at relationships

• I also love the way Phillipa Soo says Arthur in such a stilted way at the beginning of this scene and it becoming more natural every time she does it

• Genny telling him he's not attending to his duties with enthusiasm like she is not the least bit afraid to challenge the king a month in

• Love to see it

• Arthur's "I beg your pardon" when she asks about cortesans and the look he gives her

• "My father kept his women, his extra women, in their own wing of the palace. Where are yours? Might they cheer you up?"

• Genny the proactive problem solver

• Also something about the way she says extra women makes me laugh

• "I don't have extra women, I'm a married man. You were at my wedding" perhaps one of my favorite deliveries and lines in the whole show

• Genny's point of view in this scene is very interesting

• Like she does bring up that it's his legal right instead of dropping the whole thing and that's a choice

• Does she think he's lying about not having cortesans and reminding him that she is legally obligated to be cool with it so to be honest?

• Or is she just baffled by Arthur and his choices because this is a normal thing for a king to her?

• Or maybe since she already has feelings, she's trying to balance her own expectations to not get hurt?

• Possibilities

• "I'm aware of my legal right in that regard and I assure you I have no intention - oh my god - no intention of exercising it"

• Specifically the delivery of oh my god but the whole thing, he is so offended

• "And making the world into Camelot, are you abstaining from that too or will men at honor continue to plunder villages and take, rape, and kill whatever they please?"

• Genny

• Genny you are a hero

• She's so smart and fierce and unafraid to stand up to Arthur

• "I didn't make the world"/"You make a part of it"

• Arthur being so defensive and Genny calmly holding her ground

• She's taken to her new role so well

• And then Arthur admitting he doesn't know how to proceed without Merlyn, I love the way he builds trust in her in this scene

• "What would he say?"/"He'd say my god you're the slowest student anyone's ever tried to teach"/"Well I can convincingly say that"/"It's good that you mock me, kings should be mocked from time to time, it brings people pleasure. But for the record it's no fun for the king"

• Genny sounding so pleased with herself, Arthur getting out another sarcastic response

• Also what a lie, it is fun for him

• Mocking each other and public policy are their love languages

• "He once explained why but I got distracted because a white tailed eagle flew right by" with the most excitement and boyishness

• And then starting to go off on a tangent about eagles

• Never change Arthur

• I just think it's sweet the way she redirects him because she's fully committed herself to the idea of Camelot and her role in it

• "Pace freely at your own pace"

• Another brilliant line and delivery

• Channeling some Mary Poppins here

• Genny getting Arthur to think is so good

• "You had to pace and comcentrate to arrive at that?"/"It's hard to imagine why your country was willing to part with you"

• The proposition/resolved structure of this scene is very good

• And also that he starts with this pessimistic tantrum about human nature and Genny guides him back on track

• It's a great relationship moment but it also lets Arthur have some struggle and lets Genny be for Arthur what he was for her in the first scene

• Arthur collapsing on the floor and muttering "extra women" like wow he cannot handle being thought of as not a good person

• "That's it?"/"Wait"/"I wasn't going anywhere"

• Her being on the floor with him, gently pushing him

• He can't even maintain cynicism for more than a few minutes

• Them building the idea of the round table together, this is peak romance

• I can't just quote this scene in its entirety but every moment of it is a delight of them passing ideas back and forth

• "Isn't it also about the law?"/"It is"

• A standout delivery

• I love when they're working out the wordings like they make each other better

• "The law will be the stone upon which this rock - the rock upon - wait the church?"/"Have mercy"/"The law will be the rock upon which this church is built"/"Nothing can be more important"/"Nothing can be as important"

• This is what I love about Sorkin's writing

• The way that he has characters discuss ideas

• Like everything is an exciting discovery

• There's no singing in this scene but it has so much rhythm and is so compelling when in another writer's hands it would be boring and forgettable

• I broke out a chunk but it's so dense there are so many words and I love each one

• Genny counting down to his return, she already knows him so well

• Again I am trying not to type out every line

• I think they both yell for the page but I'm actually not sure, either way they are so excited and yelling something

• The new book has done so much to deepen their relationship, I adore these idealistic little nerds

• Arthur cannot contain himself

• His attempt to cool things down for himself by taking his hands off her face and then "you were very helpful, thank you"

• Smooth

• Convincing

• Definitely professional and platonic

• Truly do not know how Genny does not realize he's in love with her at this point but she sure is not gonna get better at that

• "And I suppose France too"/"I know that hurt"/"A little bit" and then he laughs it's adorable

• They're both so giddy here

• "Arthur I did already know that about you, that you were a decent fellow"/"I'm glad"

• They're in love. They are so in love.

• Arthur has taken on Genny's tone for the word inspiration when he talks to the knights

• "You've invited the French" every time Sagramore says it, it's just as funny

• "We may not be born equal"/"We are not sire" (with so much contempt)/"So our laws will make us equal" (with no room for disagreement)

• The immediate conflict

• And we see Arthur being a king and taking a hard line which we don't get to see much in this show and I love it

• "What about God's laws?"/"Not. Our. Jurisdiction" like are we sure this is not actually from the west wing

• I'm internally cheering when I hear it, I love this line far too much

• It's funny but also authoritative and kingly

• I get that some people do not vibe with Sorkin's style and that's fine but I very much do

• This show is so for me it's kind of incredible it was not made with that purpose

• A Sorkin character who would love Sorkin's work, I just adore it

• And according to the funniest line from any review I read, also has Sorkin's haircut

• That just lives in my brain because it's funnier than any piece of media criticism I will ever hear

• The knights already dissenting is very good but also that they don't fully agree yet with each other

• They build it in immediately and that's such a good choice, it makes every escalation feel totally plausible instead of the knights just easily falling for Mordred's bullshit

• Dinadan quoting Plato's ideas and saying how they're the well-educated people who should be in charge is great

• I love that the knights get to be characters and have thoughts

• Their constant vacillating between loyalty to the king and loyalty to the power structure they benefit from

• One of my favorite running tensions

Act 1, Scene 3: The countryside outside of Camelot - six months later

• The performance of C'est Moi is so funny

• Going 100% immediately

• Jordan Donica was just as perfectly cast as everyone else

• The lyrics are so funny and then he is just so loud

• His little whispered "C'est Moi" after the second verse while posing is so much funnier than it is on the cast recording

• "Had I been made the partner of Eve/we'd be in Eden still" is my favorite lyric

• The scream on clean destroys me

• Lance is always at a 10 and he's so delusional, I'm obsessed with him

• There's so much loud breathing in this performance which I love

• And whirling his sword around the stage

• "Beware enemies of Arthur do you hear me beware, from this moment you answer to me" while Arthur is literally unconscious behind him, this is comedy

• "You raised your sword to me"/"Oh I was saying hello"/"I did not know that"

• Lance is not sorry at all and it's hilarious

• He's just on another planet compared to everyone else and I love it

• Also Arthur so pure, just seeing a random person and trying to say hi

• Like you're the king of the country, you do know many people are not exactly going to be friendly, right?

• "I honestly thought I was more recognizable to the French"

• "Have you changed your Francs to English shillings?"/"Why?"/"This man's face is on money"

• Arthur subtly trying to tell Lance what's happening but the word subtle is not in Lance's vocabulary

• "I'm underwhelming in person"

• Says the man that keeps making French people instantly fall in love with him in the woods

• "My security detail... right in the nick of time"

• "I beg your majesty to forgive for me for by forgiving me I'll suffer even more"

• Lance is screaming the whole time

• I don't know how he does it

• "But my strength comes from purity of spirit"/"What was that?"/"Purity of spirit, my personal relationship with the almighty, he favors me"/"I'd keep that to yourself"

• I can't write it out but this

• And this is about to have to switch out for the rest of the show so like even more screaming somehow

• He's so funny, it isn't reasonable

• Also love that his language is the least modern of them

• It fits

• Seems like some of his lines come directly from the original book and it works amazingly

• "Be a faultless example to children" is another iconic delivery

• Also Lance asking for a mission, incredible

• He just plays everything so straight and it's perfect

• Like not a single acknowledgement of the ridiculousness of this character

• Arthur will literally get a concussion to avoid a social function, relatable

• "Until you came along and whacked me in my head"/"AND FOR THAT I BEG YOUR HARSHEST PUNISHMENT"/"Nope, nope, we're not going back to that"

• Yes the all caps is necessary, Lance is always speaking in caps, if he lived in a time a cell phones all of his texts would look like that

• And Arthur's tone when he responds

• When Lance starts singing again and then Arthur just says nope so many times

• This is their whole relationship

Act 1, Scene 4: A park near the castle

• This scene is just a magnificent Phillipa Soo showcase that we have been blessed with

• Like she is just so talented and I am blown away

• There's a reason Lusty Month of May is the song they have the most out there

• "The birds and the bees with all of their vast/amorous past/gaze at the human race aghast" is my favorite and she does it so perfectly

• Also the intro music just exactly captures that buzzy spring feeling

• My roommate and I both had the experience where the first time we saw the show, none of the music stuck with us

• And then the second time, all of the sudden it burrows into your brain

• This burrowed first because of course, it's so vibrant and lovely

• The original music is so good and somehow the transition from the more modern dialouge into the songs is seemless

• Genny has two missions: justice for all and bringing sex to England

• Look there's none in her own marriage and she needs an outlet, make those people kiss, it's all you have

• Genny's so fun and adorable in this song and it's perfect and I have no notes

• I'm just gonna go watch the today show performance and bask in it, this is the most classic Broadway musical sequence in the whole thing

• I love the idea that she's inviting all these normal people in and the beginning of the knights absolutely hating it

• "Be right quieter"

• And when they refer to Genny as a guest in the country

• The original is very and everyone loves her and I love that there's this tension where the people with power don't like her but everyone else does

• They say all the quiet parts out loud in this scene

• The show needs the knights so badly to show the discontent growing over time

• But they still respect tradition enough to enforce respect for the queen on Pellinore

• "I've only lived here a short time"/"Oh and you're already the queen, well done"/"I really had nothing to do with it"

• "Full of youth he was but brooding over problems that would confound Solomon. Ever met him your majesty?"/ "Constantly, he's my husband."

• With such affection ahhhh

• "You must be Morgan Le Fay... oh how he'd go on about the loveliness of Morgan Le Fey, her unsurpassing beautiful"

• Genny getting emotionally slapped in the face, it hurts so much

• The first crack in their relationship because they couldn't talk to each other...

• "I'm glad that nice young man found a nice young lady"

• Why does this make me feel things?

• I love the royal music every time

• "As you were everyone, pick grapes, eat flowers, or uh the other way around"

• Arthur and Genny's little catch up about Pelli is very cute, we don't get to see them be cute for a while after this so I just want to appreciate it

• Lance having no social awareness and continuing to make proclamations while Genny could not care less and is actively trying to speak to someone else, brilliant

• Genny and Arthur just waiting for Lance to stop talking after she keeps being interrupted and then Genny rushing out her lunch invitation and Arthur rushing out his response

• Arthur immediately wanting to run ideas by Genny, she is crucial to the development of Camelot and it's very much not a secret

• Arthur's "uh oh" when Lance is doing some casual misogyny

• "That sounded like a friendly exchange of pleasantries"/"It was not"

• No fucks for Genny today

• I wish I could one day know the translation of Genny and Lance's friendly exchange of pleasantries

• "Who would serve as the standard?"/"Oh certainly not me your majesty"/"See no hubris"/"My standards are much too high"/"Dammit Lance"

• "Have you achieved perfection milord?"/"Please say no"/"Of course I haven't your majesty"/"Good"/"Refining the soul is an endless struggle... but physical perfection"/"No"/"Yes"/"Go back to speaking French"

• "And in your quest for spiritual perfection have you considered the value of humility?"/"Ah something we should all consider. In fact let's take two minutes of silence to consider the value of humility."

• The dialouge between the three of them is so funny in this scene

• The ship is sinking and Arthur is just there with a tiny bucket while Lance and Genny keep creating giant new holes

• Genny calling Lance a jackass is both hilarious and also so valid

• "She already has an affectionate nickname for you"

• We have officially reached the beginning of the end, well we had some nice moments

• Like imagine if Pelli didn't start going on about how in love Arthur was with Morgan and then Arthur didn't show up with his new best friend who immediately implied women were too stupid to engage in government

• Genny was having a no fucks day and was probably ready to do a stupid thing and maybe that stupid thing was her husband

• A true tragedy

• "And with humility I"

• Dinadan's line deliveries are so dry and good

• And Genny's laugh

• "And whom will the three of you want to impress?"/"We want to impress the king too."/"Ah yes English men"

• I love the knights, they've all got their own little comedic touches in this song

• Gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss Genny

• Take Me to the Fair is a masterpiece

• I don't know what constitutes a hot take about this show because there are 5 people talking about it

• But my hot take is that as much as Lusty Month of May is a brilliant and amazing song

• This is actually the Phillipa Soo tour de force

• Her fake crying is so good

• There are so many good flourishes in the singing

• Same thing I feel about I Wonder What the King is Doing Tonight, Phillipa Soo is just enhancing every line with her hilarious delivery

• Also this sound

• Sagramore is always operating at 50% more intensity than the rest of the knights and it's perfect

• Him having to be held back by the other two when Genny sings to him

• It's involuntary at this point that I turn my head back at French during this verse

• His very loud delivery of "I swear to you the challenge will be met"

• "Sirrrr Liiiiionel"/"Ma'am"/"Ugh"

• And when she gives his chest a little slap after "and young du Lac"

• Perfect

• And her laugh-cry at the end of Lionel's part

• Their faces when she touches them are also just very confused and funny, she is not good at this

• I love when the knights are singing together, bringing up Lance really has wrapped them around her finger

Act 1, Scene 5: The King's study - the night before the tournament

• "You know that it's your move right?"/"I did not know that. I'll need to alter my strategy now"

• Honestly so relatable I suck at chess, Pelli is the best

• "If we're to care about justice, we need to care even more about injustice"

• Just a good little Sorkin nugget

• Pelli refusing to understand any of Arthur's ideas, excellent

• "Do I understand that you intend to be history's first king to yield power?"/"Oh now you're catching on"

• I do just love Arthur so much

• And the delivery of "she wrote what you just read"

• He's so pleased to inform Lance that Genny's writing treatises about justice

• Pelli's smug little "it's your move" like that's correct, no one is allowed to not respect women in Arthur's study

• "He's had you in checkmate for an hour and a half"

• Arthur's patience is astounding, Lance should be taking notes while he's perfecting his spirit

• "Would you like to play me or do you ever do anything but perfect your soul?"/"No I also perfect my body"

• Again just perfect deliveries and honestly so much respect to the new book for making Lance even more irritating but eventually more human too

• I am not dragging Lance, this is a compliment

• Just the way Jordan Donica plays it completely straight without being able to detect sarcasm is hilarious

• "The arrangement I'm in is called a marriage, having some fun would be called treason. And finally I hate his breathing guts."

• Setting up the consequences we know are coming with a little joke, I like it

• "Well be sure and give us clear skies tomorrow when you're arranging things with god tonight"

• Savage, I don't like most of the original dialouge but we had a winner with this one

• Her delivery just elevates it

• "No one could refuse your wish"

• The gall of Lance to say that like that in front of Arthur like he is shameless

• "Why do you have to bait the man?"/"I dislike him, I thought I was making that clear"

• Genny is so relatable

• Their first fight and Arthur's already insulting the French, I'm not sure why he thought this was going to go well

• Arthur trying to delicately ask Genny to withdraw her permission from Dinadan

• He's trying to have this conversation as her husband and not her king but Genny is not even having it a little

• Genny explaining that she already gave permission for all the knights is so funny

• I know they're basically the original lines but ya know, sometimes Lerner nailed it

• "It will seem to the entire court as if you are rooting for his downfall and championing his defeat."/"The only reason it will seem that way is because I'm rooting for his downfall and championing his defeat."

• "He's going to embarass those three. These are not men who take well to embarrassment."

• Like Arthur already knows exactly who his knights are

• He knows that they don't exactly match up to his ideals

• The delivery on "will you withdraw your permission" is also spot on like Arthur is ready to exit this conversation right now

• Also on "if I do will you forgive me"

• Like he knows that's not happening

• "Not as long as I live, no"

• Perfect riff on the original book's line

• Arthur doing some investigating on Genny hating Lance like he knows before she even does

• Ouch

• And then him starting to get frustrated when she's not answering like babies' first fight is not going well

• "Because he needs to be brought down to earth... literally not metaphorically"

• Like she has yet to be wrong

• "Merlyn never taught me how to handle a woman"/"You didn't read the book?"/"There's a book? No I can see from your face that there's not a book. Though maybe in France they would have published something, no I can still see on your face"

• We love a Genny dripping with sarcasm moment

• And Arthur being an idiot nerd

• He's so so stupid

• Another one of my truly favorite lines and deliveries, he is so excited that he completely forgets he's mad at her for a second and then pouting when he realizes

• "If the king wishes me to withdraw my permission, let him so command... nope, then I will bid you goodnight"

• The aggressiveness on her daring him to command her is so much

• Perfect

• I love her nope, a little power play

• Because she knows he won't and he knows he won't and she's happy to remind him of that they both know that and then leave

• His silence is doing so much work too

• Damn this scene is good

• "And before I go to bed as a gesture to Lancelot and to you, I'll pray it's over quickly"/It will be"

• They're so mad, I love it

• "There should be a book"

• Grumbling sullen Arthur is very funny even if How to Handle a Woman is lowkey the worst song

• And Arthur's worst impulse, which the narrative knows because it plays under him talking about vengeance and what he's entitled to later

• Like they do a good job recontextualizing it but it's still not the best

• Just hearing him sing the word threaten is kind of jarring, I cannot even slightly imagine this Arthur even thinking it once

• In my opinion they should've just cut it, I'd gladly take more Sorkin dialouge instead

• I do appreciate the way they scaled back this music in the rest of the show

• Because it's all over the second act of the movie, Arthur and Genny's theme if you will

• Like even during their last conversation

• Because they're not the love story so their theme isn't really a love song

• But then here, they play it under Arthur's worst impulses at the end of act 1 and banish it which is so smart

Act 1, Scene 6: A grandstand - the next day

• The music coming into this scene and when Arthur and Genny show up, again fantastic

• The outright hostility between the knights and Lance, they turned it so far up in this version

• Pushing him down and shit

• I love Athur and Genny showing up and getting to see them actually be king and queen and have their over-the-top outfits and crowns in this and the last act 1 scene because it's so removed from who they are the rest of time

• Arthur's speech at the beginning trying to glorify them not having the tournament and how great losing is and having to be stopped by Genny

• He's trying so hard and his speech is not good

• The fact that she basically tells him to stop and his response is fine like I think he forgets that he's actually in charge

• I love a sword fight

• The movement, the drama, the loud clanging...

• I am but a humble girl raised on the Pirates of the Carribean movies

• Dinadan being a dick before the fight with "and now for your lesson sir"

• The way Lance knocks the sword out of Dinadan's grip and makes him pick it up before defeating him, such an asshole move

• I truly can't tell if Lance has just such a superiority complex that he doesn't realize what parts of his own behavior are making people dislike him or he's just so stuck in his toxic little mindset that he doesn't care if people hate him for it

• I kind of feel like Lance is so into his specific notions of the world that even he doesn't really know why he acts the way he does

• "Dinadan seemed very inspired by your kerchief, should we continue?"

• "You know he almost had him, right up until the moment he never stood a chance"

• Their fight being played out by proxy while Arthur makes snide comments and they give each other looks is good shit

• Sagramore's scream, he's always going so hard

• The fact that Arthur fighting instead of Lionel is new for this

• Genius

• So good

• The dialouge around it is good too

• The temptation to just transcribe the whole thing is so strong

• Commanding Lance to pick back up his sword like damn

• I love seeing this new side of Arthur

• He can and will fight and he's good at it

• "I know what a damn baguette is"

• His little bit to Lance about it just being about morale is very good

• But also he can see what's going on even if Genny can't so is it?

• The fact that he may well have won the fight if it wasn't for a cool bird, what a man

• Fun fact about me, I didn't even see the bird or realize that's why he got distracted until the last time

• He and Genny are like very much not in a good place this moment but he will let it slide to point out a bird

• Arthur's fall is very good

• Can you tell I think this scene is also very good, I've only written it like twelve times

• The fact that they're letting people fight with swords and there isn't a doctor for 12 miles, amazing planning by everyone

• The bit of everyone thinking Arthur was dead and him sarcastically correcting them is amazing 100% of the time

• "He put life back into him" is just consistently hilarious

• "I'm not wanted here Arthur"

• With the most heartbreaking delivery

• Aw we finally see Lance have some shred of being an actual person

Act 1, Scene 7: The castle terrace - on the evening of the same day

• I Wonder What the King is Doing Tonight intro-ing into this scene

• "Well you got me there" being screamed is perfect

• Pelli sensing that something is bothering Arthur, their relationship is very sweet

• Pelli describing the way Genny and Lance were looking at each other, what a shit stirer

• "It may be the only way to get him to stay"/"Maybe it's best if you let him go"/"Let him go?"/"Maybe it's best"/"Why is that?"/"Well...You said yourself, morale"

• Like she's trying to protect them but she won't say it

• For obvious reasons

• But it's confirming what Arthur already suspects

• And just drawing them further apart

• Another great her silence is doing so much work moment

• The entire telling Lance he's being invested discussion is so intense

• So much anger simmering in Arthur that can't help but come out in the line deliveries in the beginning

• Genny refusing to engage and turning her back to the whole thing

• "I'm sure he'd like to hear it from another child of France"/"This is my country now"

• Oh boy I love this exchange

• Like she's trying, she's trying so hard

• And I don't know what the fuck Arthur is thinking with that one, in what way could she possibly respond that's not going to be bad for him?

• Arthur leaving them alone like whyyyy

• And then Arthur giving Genny back her bloody kerchief, fuck

• All is very much not forgiven here

• "God dammit Pelli, I wasn't dead"

• Genny making it clear she does not believe Arthur was dead, I appreciate that she's also very clear on the fact that their world is not magical

• I wonder if Lance does think he willed Arthur back to life

• Probably

• "Don't ever say it out loud. Neither of us can ever say it out loud"

• This was another straight up gasping in the theater moment

• The entire conversation between Genny and Lance is so good and tense

• And the delivery on that line just feels like getting punched in the gut

• Phillipa Soo is amazing

• I love that she won't let them say it, that she's fighting it

• And the way she cuts him off, the way she makes him agree to not say it

• This is the intense love she wanted and it doesn't need to be said which is exactly what she needed to feel from Arthur but didn't get

• Also Lance just trying to confess his feelings the first second he can is just such an interesting character choice

• Like the truth is his purity of the soul bluster doesn't hold up to the slightest temptation

• He's ready to betray Arthur the second he leaves the room

• It's all a front

• Not intentionally, like he believes the things he says he believes

• But he can't keep to it

• I think he's so drawn to Arthur because Arthur actually has the qualities he's proclaiming define him

• But I don't even think Lance knows any of this about himself

• At least not until later

• He's just impulsive

• Which is I think what makes him an interesting character to me but also makes his motivations hardest to decipher

• Before I Gaze at You Again is such a stunning song

• And watching Phillipa Soo just emote for the whole time

Act 1, Scene 8: The great hall - on that evening

• All the music that starts this scene is brilliant

• "I'll never disappoint you"/"I know"

• I just...

• Like we the audience know but also the characters sort of all know and they are determined not to let it happen but that only makes it happen anyway

• Ugh those lines are a little nothing but they're everything

• I have the YouTube clips of Richard Burton's version of this and it does just indicate how well they've modernized

• Theater has changed so much so the pacing of 1961 compared to this is kind of fascinating

• This is also actually the writing I think is the best from the original and it is so fascinating to compare the two versions which I'm sure someone has done and I want to read it because there is so much to say

• It's so bold to close act 1 with a speech instead of a song

• I had no context coming in so they had me in the first half, I wasn't sure if this was Arthur's turn into the villain moment

• Once again I'm just like pointing to the whole speech and yelling how good it is

• Whoever decided this belonged on the cast recording is my personal hero

• This is just on my normal spotify playlist and as long as I'm not reading, I will not skip it

• But I love the idea that in the original book Arthur starts out by declaring his love for Genny and Lance and in this version it's like he's actively talking to the audience to defend himself

• To say he's not some stupid optimistic kid, that he sees everything we have

• Comes out swinging

• I can't explain how much "proposition: I am not a befuddled king" shook me, I was ready for shit to go down and I love it as the opener to this

• The pause before "whom they love", the sadness in it

• "And she didn't choose whom she married"

• Like Arthur can never get rid of that guilt

• The push and pull of this entire thing where he will try to make an argument with himself that everything is fine but the bitterness keeps seeping in until there's no rationality left

• Trying not the write out the whole thing but the rhythm of it, the pacing, this performance is spectacular

• The way the audience startles when he starts screaming

• Like he's having his back and forth rational debate with himself and finally we see him lose that control

• And it is the good shit

• I can't explain how much I came in with no context for this show and how much this completely threw me in the best way

• We're finally a glimpse of what's happening inside Arthur's head, to see the way he's been holding so much back from everyone else

• I love that he's still yelling at Merlyn, not exactly sure what I want to read into that, I feel like there are a few lines of thought

• "Am I not entitled to a man's vengence?"

• Perhaps my favorite line in the first half

• Every line is sort of my favorite but I guess let's settle on this one

• Because the original is "I demand a man's vengence"

• And same sentiment but entitled is so much more toxic

• Like the thing about this magic-less universe is that Arthur wasn't destined for some greatness and so he pulled the sword from the stone

• He wasn't owed something, he didn't deserve it, it just happened and he chose to rise to the challenge

• And this is the first moment he's decided he might be entitled to anything

• And then he does a 180 into deserving nothing

• "Proposition: I'm not a man, I'm a king"

• Like wow so much to unpack psychologically there

• I mean he and Lance have very much the same problem of trying to suppress their own humanity but the reasons are so different

• When Arthur switches into his idealistic mode and they start playing I Wonder What the King is Doing Tonight because he's being kingly, literally gets me every time

• The entire thing is so good, I love the second half so much

• "I wasn't trained for this"

• I love the running theme of Merlyn training Arthur in all of these important skills but never teaching him how to handle emotions and relationships and uh maybe he should have

• There were perhaps some limits to Merlyn's wisdom that set Arthur up to fail

• Because he's been king since he was barely out of childhood

• He never got the chance to have normal, equal relationships where he could figure shit out

• So instead he just pushes it all down because he's not wrong in that he doesn't get the luxury of following his emotions

• I love every second of this scene

• I love every line, every delivery, every movement

• Like it is a hard ask to make an actor just walking around the stage monologuing compelling in a musical and this is so so compelling

• Just on the whole of this show, I don't know that I've ever been so blown away by a stage performance as I was watching Andrew Burnap and this scene is just a perfect encapsulation of why

• Whatever he's in next, I will go

• Okay real talk something about this man's face just renders it unrecognizable to my brain so more than likely I'll see something and be like wow that person was amazing, who was that and then it will turn out to be him

• I say specifically because I happened to be watching Under the Banner of Heaven the whole time I've been having a Camelot obsession and how did I find out he was in it? I happened to see his name in the end credits four episodes in...

• But anyway I will at least try to know whatever he's in next so I can go on purpose because this performance is living in my brain and I don't think it's leaving

• I do make fun of previous versions of this show for casting people who are clearly not musical theater actors in this role but actually I do think casting actors who do straight plays does add so much as long as they aren't terrible at singing

• All of which to say again that I do think this was some of the most perfect casting I have ever seen

• Basically the statements you can tell Andrew Burnap is not a musicals person and you can absolutely tell Phillipa Soo and Jordan Donica are absolutely musicals people

• Are both extreme compliments to the people that decided on this casting

[swcetnight]

It’s Definitely You || kth (m.) 1

synopsis:

Working as a barista in NYC has its perks, but when your ultimate dream of being on the Broadway stage tends to come crumbling down, the only thing that raises your spirits is the comfort of a complete stranger… who seems to have known you for far longer than you thought.

masterlist here

→ pairing: taehyung x barista!reader (also musical theatre performer cause I had to)

→ genre: fluff, angst, future smut | strangers(ish) to lovers… i won’t give the truth away... gonna have to read and find out for yourself ;))

-> warnings: self doubt, adorable plant names... there's really not many warnings for this chapter!

→ word count: 7,973

authors note:

alrighty everyone... here we go! (i’m so nervous) this is the first chapter of this series (which it took me 50 years to figure out whether I wanted this to be a series or a two shot... lets just say that it's gonna be a long one, so I think that a series is the best way to go)! this story is really near and dear to my heart, so 1. I really hope you enjoy it and 2. I hope all of you know how hard it was to write this into words... my goodness. now, make sure you look for clues throughout this series... there's a secret in here that won't be revealed for a while ;)) but if any of you have ideas, please be sure to send an ask while we wait to find out together! anyways, I hope you enjoy !!

authors thanks:

a HUGE thank you to @hantaev and @monvante for beta-reading and being so so supportive of me and this little (but not so little) story... y'all truly have no idea how helpful you've been and how thankful I am to be friends with both of you! forreal, y'all are the greatest and I'm sending you all my love!!

also, if you are enjoying this story, please don’t hesitate to send me an ask (on or off anon) and let me know your thoughts, feelings, theories, etc!! i would love to hear from all of you 🤍

If time-travel existed, you would be on the first time machine and head back to 2 years ago. A time when you had a free schedule and were able to go out on Friday nights. A time when you felt confident in yourself and were raring to pursue theatre. A time when you didn't have this job (cause apparently, theatre is impossible to get into) that forces you awake at 4 in the morning for the opening shift.

You can't say you don't love your Barista job because you do. Still, when your alarm wakes you from the beautiful dream of performing on the big stage, you have to use everything within yourself to crawl out of your sheet cocoon… and that is unacceptable.

What's even more unacceptable is the fact that your co-worker, Jimin, hasn't arrived at the Academia Cafe yet. You have about 30 minutes to prepare for the morning peak; brew coffees, set up the bakery items, clear the boards "coffee of the day," etc. The problem is, it takes up all of the 30 allotted minutes— and you can't start prepping early because Jimin has the keys to the cafe.

You’ve worked at the Academia Cafe for about a year now, taking a break from your endless theatre audition schedule— since that was getting you absolutely nowhere. No matter how badly you want it, nothing seems to work. No matter how many times you practice, it never seems to be good enough. Let’s just say, you took this job at the cafe because you were over the repetitive let downs.

… But here you are, with a “Jimin being late” let down.

[To: Jimin ☕️] hey, you almost here? times ticking, keys!

You stuff your phone into your winter coat pocket, the brown material catching snowflakes as they fall gently from the cloudy sky. You love this weather; it's always been your favorite. When you were little, you used to pretend to be a dragon; running all over your front yard and releasing heavy breaths that chilled in the air and spread like smoke. You don't enjoy the cold, but the entire feel of winter has you cozying up in a blanket with hot cocoa and a good book… nothing could beat that.

A buzz in your pocket catches your attention.

[From: Jimin ☕️] Hey! Look up.

Your eyes immediately lift to see Jimin smiling a few feet away, shuffling through the snow as he drags the keys out of his pocket. He's sporting a heavy blue coat that reaches down to his knees — making his short stature appear even smaller — topped with a matching blue beanie. Despite his tardiness today, you’ve always been fond of Jimin. He's like a ray of sunshine, beaming through the skyscrapers of the city and making everyone around him happy just by flashing a single smile. Honestly, you wish you could sneak some of that happiness from him and lock it somewhere safe... so you can save it for a time when you need it most.

"Your timing is impeccable." He laughs, gently placing the keys into the front door lock. "You texted me right as I was rounding the corner."

"I'm telling you, Jimin; we're always on the same wavelength."  Smirking, you make your way through the doors of the cafe, greeted by the warmth that surrounds you like your sheet cocoon did this morning, but accompanied by the smell of fresh coffee. "Except for the fact that you, my friend, are late, so now we only have twenty-eight minutes until opening."

Old, rustic book pages litter the cafe's dark walls, executing the dark academia theme flawlessly. You have to give the interior designers a hand, what with the black stools and high dark wood counters etched with different story pages. You wonder if anyone took the time to read the stories that covered the cafe; maybe the stories moved them in a personal way. Maybe there was a reason why they read them, a part of the butterfly effect of their life.

With a quick survey of the main room, you shuffle into the back to put your belongings away. "You would think it would be less busy on the streets because of the snow," Jimin calls, already working on the first batch of light roast coffee. "But unfortunately for me, that was not the case, and I nearly lost my life multiple times on the way here because of how slick it is."

A laugh emits from your lips, echoing in the backroom as you throw your apron over your head.

You begin with date labeling all of the pastry items, placing them accordingly onto the pastry cart; croissants, muffins, scones, etc. Then, you move onto organizing syrups and setting toppings along the bar where drinks are made. Bar is your personal favorite position-- since you're able to make the drinks… Plus, you're so busy that your shift goes by way faster. The sooner you're done, the sooner you get to go home and sleep.

“All set?” Jimin questions when you finish setting the steaming pitchers next to the espresso machine, tossing the rag he used to wipe down tables into the sanitizer bin. You give him a nod, taking a quick once over of the bar. “Alright,” he claps, “let's do this.”

This morning runs like every Friday morning, busy and fast. The sounds of coffee glasses clinking and the calling of customer names at the hand-off station echoes through the air.

Ahhhh, the scenery in coffee shops; the quiet hush over the room as soft jazz plays over the speakers. It’s soothing, all encompassing, and extremely helpful for motivation… You used to go to a local cafe for homework when you were still in school.

You take a breath, relaxing against the back counter as you overhear a conversation a group of regulars are having. It’s the usual small talk: the weather, families, sharing pictures of recent events. Coming up with questions of the day for customers becomes easier after knowing their stories, so you subconsciously listen in often.

Because of this, you almost don't notice the man waiting at the register, wholly delved into the neighboring conversation— only looking over when you hear your name called.

"Y/n?"

You turn your head, catching eyes with the stranger behind the counter who holds his credit card ready. The first thing you notice is that he's young, probably around your age, wearing a brown turtleneck and white slacks. His eyes are dark, standing above his perfectly sculpted nose and lips. His hair is dark as well, forehead drowning within the wavy bangs that fall over his eyebrows as he takes you in. To be completely honest, he's probably the most handsome man you've had the pleasure of seeing… is that weird? You don’t know him… maybe that is weird.

The second thing you notice is that he looks completely anxious, hands grasping the edge of the counter like there's a thousand-foot drop below him. Why is he looking straight at you while doing that? Maybe you should call Jimin to take ove-

“Is it really you?” He questions, taking you aback.

"I-" You clear your throat, walking forward to meet him at the register, "I'm sorry, do I know you?"

With an intake of breath, he releases the counter as he studies you. Was he… crying? You swear his eyes were not this bloodshot three seconds ago.

"You-" He pauses, taking another sharp breath and running a hand through his hair. If you thought he couldn't get more attractive, you were wrong. "Do you know me?"

Attractive? Yes. Psycho?...possibly.

You shake your head slightly, “I… I’m sorry. I don't-"

Wait… is he a regular? You swear you haven't seen him come into the cafe before. Shoot.. What if he is? The number one thing your boss has made perfectly clear: remember the regulars, so they come back and feel at home; recognized. Customer connection was the most important thing at the Academia Cafe… He's probably a regular.

“I’m so sorry, there're so many people that come to visit us and sometimes I forget the regulars!” You apologize. “That’s my fault… remind me of your name again?”

He's staring at you. Full-on staring, jaw slacked. Shifting uncomfortably in your keds, you eye beside you to see Jimin working away at a macchiato. You consider changing places, nearly walking over to him before the customer speaks again.

"It's- It's Taehyung."

You force a smile, nodding while he continues to stare at you. He seems a bit more hesitant, his eyes looking in different directions but ultimately falling back onto your own. Even if he tried, he couldn't hide the rosy color that spreads onto his cheeks. What was this guy's problem?

"Taehyung! Awesome, well, what can I get for you today?" You chirp, attempting to brighten up your increasing discomfort. He might have mistook you for someone else, you decide, jumping back into your customer service personality: kind and quick to the point.

Taehyung doesn't move, training his eyes on you. You've never had a man's undivided attention before, since boyfriends were never an option. When you were a teenager, you stayed home most of the time in your hometown, and the boys there were all just in it to take your pants off. You avoided them and never really caught their attention, so you can't help the uncomfortable blush that grows on your cheeks. It’s short lived though, your nerves dissolving as soon as you notice a single tear fall onto the front of his shirt.

Oh. Okay, he’s definitely crying.

"Sir..." You begin, leaning in closer to avoid drawing attention. "Is everything alright?"

"I…" The shake in his voice is evident as he puts his credit card back into his wallet, still refusing to break eye contact. “Excuse me." Without another word, he turns on his heel and rushes towards the exit, clocking a customer in the shoulder in his rush. He apologizes quickly, bowing to them before glancing behind to make eye contact with you once more.

You wish you could read minds, wondering what the hell is going through his brain… but you notice the tiniest gleam of a hopeful smile that hides on his lips.

And then he’s gone.

“I swear it was the strangest thing, Jimin.” You speak nervously, tugging at the strings of your apron and lifting it over your head. It had been busy all day, despite a quick thirty minute break when everyone had left and the cafe was suddenly a deserted island. You appreciated the busyness, it made your shift go by faster. Right now, all you wanted to do was go home, eat a fat bowl of icecream and distract yourself from the events of today with a movie. Thank God your shift was over.

“Maybe he thought you were someone else?” Jimin insists, taking a bite into the extra Blueberry Muffin you’d accidentally heated when you were distracted by the events that occurred earlier.

“Yeah? Well, I must be the spitting image because he was totally freaked out.”

“You never know, y/n. Or, maybe he just used that as an excuse to talk to you.” You could hear the smirk in his voice, throwing your rolled up apron at him harshly before you grab your belongings.

“Ha, ha, you’re hilarious. This guy looked like he had seen his ex… He was crying. I don’t think he was into me.”

“Maybe his eyes were watering from the cold wind?” He offers.

“Enough to cry actual tears?” You scoffed, “C’mon Jimin.”

He shrugs defensively, picking up his things so the two of you can head out a few minutes earlier than usual. Whenever the baristas have a chance to leave early, they take it. “If he comes back, then ask him: hey, dude, what’s your deal?”Jimin works his way through the cafe, throwing an excess chair upside down onto the table with the rest of them.

You hold your hand above your heart, which is still beating at a faster pace due to this discussion. Can hearts even beat this fast? This can’t be healthy… “Oh wow, you have such a way with words. That definitely won’t make him feel uncomfortable!”

Yes. Sarcasm coping mechanism.

“Y/n.” Jimin meets you at the door and puts his hands on your shoulders, making extra sure he has your attention. “Go home. Don’t think too much into it… He was probably high or something and mistook you for his ex that dumped him and now he’s moping through the city and getting into all sorts of trouble and he’ll forget that he even came here tomorrow morning. Okay?”

You nod slowly, exiting the cafe with Jimin on your tail. "Don't worry, y/n." Jimin adds, "He probably won't even come back." He locks the door and gives you one last thumbs up before heading in the opposite direction, calling out at the last second. “See you tomorrow!”

The forced smile on your face appears again (looks like this was a regular occurrence today), waving him goodbye.

Yeah… tomorrow.

Jimin was right. The handsome crying stranger was probably never coming back.

It has been a few weeks since you met him for the first time. Now, it feels like a distant memory. He hadn’t shown up to the cafe the day after the encounter, or the day after that, or the day after that, and eventually you’d come to the conclusion that he was probably never going to show his face again out of pure embarrassment. You can’t say you blame him. You’d be embarrassed too if you stared at and cried over a random stranger.

Still, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment... You'd kind of hoped you could figure out what his problem was, maybe ease his mind a little if you really did look like a past lover. You would make sure he knew that it wasn't you. What if he was avoiding the cafe because he literally thought you were someone else? Great… now you just feel bad.

"Y/n? Are you listening?" Jimin beckons over the phone.

"Huh? What?" You bounce back to reality, the soft comforter of your bed lying beneath you as you stare out the window. Thanks to your wonderful apartment search, you have a beautiful view of the city. Jimin had helped you find a place when you first moved here. The two of you had met when you visited to check out the first apartment options; he even took you out for a drink afterward to celebrate the first days' completion. Jimin had immediately clicked with you, as he does with everyone-- he was the kind of person to make friends insanely quickly. He must've been super popular in high school... unlike you.

"Y/n Y/l/n. I am giving you a chance to meet more people, and you're not even listening to me!" He cries, a light smack coming from the other end (probably from him slamming his hand on the table).

"Okay, okay-- I'm sorry. I'm listening now; what's up?"

With a deep sigh, he speaks again. "Party. My house. Tonight. It's not gonna be wild, don't worry... it's just a get-together with some of my friends, and you can have a few drinks if you would like to."

Gnawing at your bottom lip, you look over towards the clock on your nightstand. 5:00. "I don't know..." You begin, the bed shifting as you raise into a seated position. "I have to work tomorrow morn-"

"Already got your shift covered." He deadpans.

"What??"

"I already got your shift covered, so you have no excuse."

This sly guy.

"Who covered it?" You question, setting the audio to speaker-phone as you rummage through old text messages you haven't gone through (to prep for your "thank you for covering my shift" text message).

“Jin.” Noted.

“So…” Jimin continues, “are you coming?”

You can't even remember the last time you met new people, let alone gone to a party. Parties weren't necessarily your thing, especially with your busy schedule of workdays and auditions-- you just never had the time. You should be excited, right?

Well, you aren't.

"Jimin, I don't know… I'm not really a huge fan of parties." You mumble over the phone, picking at the lone string that popped out of its stitch on your comforter.

"Y/n, it's a small get-together, and it's not gonna be that kind of party. Believe me; it'll be really chill. It's just me, you, a few other coworkers, and some friends from my journalism class."

You chew at your bottom lip, looking over at your closet to see a single green cocktail dress that you hadn't worn in years. The memory of the dress was a good one… you had just finished up curtain call for The Addams Family and wore that dress to the after-party. It's a short sleeve, layered green dress that flows just over your knees, the same color sash tying the waist in a floppy bow. You blush at the memory of winning best dressed.

A pause, “Okay.” You conclude. “I’ll go.”

Jimin was honest about how chill it would be; soft music plays in the background as the group sits around the table playing cards. A basketball game is playing on the TV, desperate for attention as a player scores a 3-pointer, but no one is watching. Shuffling of cards is the only sound heard in the room as the game continues.

The atmosphere is calm… quiet…

“BULLSHIT.”

The immediate crumble of everyone’s mood causes the loud “HELL YEAH” that makes you jump in your seat.

"And that is how it's done, Ladies and Gentlemen." Jungkook (your fellow coworker) claps, his smile brighter than the sunset that seeps through the curtains on the opposite side of the room.

"And that's on cheating!" Jimin picks up the cards in the center of the table, gathering them clumsily back into a pile.

"It's called having skill," Jungkook replies, holding his hands up as he smirks at his opponents.

"No, it's called luck." Yoongi finalizes as he puts his hand of cards down on the table with a roll of his eyes. You haven’t met Yoongi before until tonight. He’s one of Jimin's friends from Journalism Class.

When you arrived, you decided to sit out of this round and learn to play before joining the game-- knowing you; you would've been crushed within the first minutes of playing. Card games weren’t exactly a skill of yours— board games on the other hand were where it’s at! That, and charades. For the sake of the party, a card game didn’t sound too bad this time around— so you poke at Jimin to give you the hand as he serves cards for everyone else.

“Wait, wait, wait—“ Jimin pauses, his hand disappearing beneath the table to grab his phone. “Hello?”

“I’m not Irish, so does luck really count?” Jungkook questions in a hushed whisper, nudging Yoongi in the side.

“Oh hey...yeah... it’s apartment 205.” Jimin continues.

“You’re so funny, Jk. Maybe you’ll actually become successful if you choose stand-up comedy rather than becoming a musician.” Yoongi replies nonchalantly, his cat-like eyes staring at the abandoned pile of cards before he seems to come to the decision to shuffle them himself. He gives you a small smile when you hold your hand out to signal that you’re joining in this round.

“Mhm, you can just walk on in! Doors unlocked… okay.. alright, see ya in a minute.” When Jimin's phone is down, Yoongi passes a hand of cards to him.

“Think you can beat me, Y/n?” Jungkook asks,”Since apparently these four can’t?” He motions to Yoongi and Jimin, glancing at the other two players of the game: Hoseok (Jimins other classmate) and his girlfriend, Faith.

“I think I can.” You say, smirking at the determined expression on Jungkooks face. Even if you weren’t very fond of card games, there was one thing you were even less fond of: losing.

“Mmm, might want to rethink that, but okay.” Jungkook replies. The two of you are death staring when the sound of the front door creaking open catches the attention of everyone else at the table. Jimin shoots out of his chair.

“Taehyung!”

You freeze.

"You-" He pauses, taking another sharp breath and running a hand through his hair. If you thought he couldn't get more attractive, you were wrong. "Do you know me?"

Attractive? Yes. Psycho?... possibly.

“I’m so sorry, there're so many people that come to visit us and sometimes I forget the regulars!” You apologize. “That’s my fault… remind me of your name again?”

"It's- It's-."

“Taehyung, you just missed me creaming everyone in bullshit.” Jungkook boasts. Your eyes are glued to the side of Jungkook's head, not daring to make eye contact with the source of your nerves the past few weeks.

“Oh did I?” The familiar, deep voice utters.

Okay.. you can’t help but look…

Holy—it’s actually him.

Immediate regret sinks into your soul when you see him. God, he’s even handsomer than you remember. A white woolen sweater hangs over a pair of his black pants, matched with white sneakers and accenting the head of dark wavy hair you’d been thinking about since you last saw him.

“Yep!” Jungkook continues. “And now Y/n’s about to get shitfaced too.”

The moment his eyes swiftly glance your way is the moment you crumble and turn your head back to Jungkook. You had hoped to make a sly remark, something along the lines of “in your dreams,” but you’re caught breathless from the tension in the room. The tension only the two of you are aware of. He must be tense too, right?

“I wouldn’t underestimate her.” You hear out of Taehyung's mouth, stealing a look at his face once more. He’s smirking at Jungkook, hanging his coat on the hook beside yours, oblivious of the way you’re basically dissecting his every move.

“Have you met Y/n?” Jimin questions, provoking Taehyung's eyes to fall back onto yours. This time, you don’t look away.

He doesn’t answer right away, making you more nervous than you should be— the silence deafening as you make to explain, “We-“

“No.” He states plainly, cutting you off. An innocent smile plays on his lips as he looks at Jimin and places his messenger bag beside the door.

No? Uhhh, was he not the guy who pretended to know who you were and cried in front of you without even explaining why? Nope, it’s definitely him.

“I’m Taehyung.” He calls in your direction, offering you a boxy smile and a small nod, “Don’t let Jungkook fool you. A girl pinched him when we were in grade school. He barely lasted five seconds before running away screaming.” Taehyung moved to the table, sitting beside the man he just brutally embarrassed.

“That girl was terrifying. She was way taller than all the other sixth graders. It was an unfair situation.” Jungkook protested, sinking in his chair as he shuffled the cards he held in his hand.

You couldn’t help but stare dumbly at Taehyung. Was he embarrassed of his outburst at the cafe that he just hopes you forgot about him? You guess you didn’t exactly meet each other, other than a few words exchanged before he disappeared out the door. He probably doesn’t want his friends to know about what happened. Or did he not recognize you and completely forgot about the whole ordeal?

Okay, it’s fine… totally fine.

“I’ll have to keep that in mind,” you laugh, “no more coming in late, Jk. Or I’ll have to pinch you.”

Jungkook merely rolls his eyes, taking a sip of his beer. You see the crinkle in Taehyung's eyes as he laughs, the boxy smile taking root on his face again… a smile you’ve begun to enjoy the look of.

Hey. Snap out of it. This guy is so confusing. That’s a red card.

You straighten up in your seat, catching Jimin's attention when you move towards the kitchen, motioning with your hand to signal that you’re getting another drink. You have a feeling you’re gonna need some more alcohol to get through the evening.

Jimins place is clean, every knick knack placed neatly where it belongs; accompanied by the smell of potted plants that he keeps by his windows. Little name tags are attached to the plant stems: Flo, Sprout, Bob. He names his plants. Sweet.

He, like you, has a great view of the city too, a mid-size window perched above his breakfast nook where a small potted plant (quotabley named “bean”) grows. The city is bustling below as you reach for a beer, shrugging off the fact that you hate beer, but at least the taste will distract you from Tae-

“Hey.” You hear a soft voice call from the kitchen archway. When you turn you nearly drop the bottle out of your hand. Taehyung gives you a soft smile.

“Hey! Uh.. did you want a beer, or are you a wine guy?” You question, cringing at how much higher your voice sounds at his close proximity.

“I— Sorry, neither.” He starts, shoving his hands into his pockets as he makes his way around the island. “I uh- I just wanted to talk to you about something.”

You nod slightly, “Yeah of course… what’s up?”

“Um,” he’s nervous, you notice. “I just wanted to apologize about the whole thing at the cafe a few weeks ago.. I was— not in the right state of mind.” He meets your eyes hesitantly, “you just look like someone I know from a long time ago and it kind of.. took me by surprise, I guess.”

Jimin was right. You offer him a smile, shaking your head in disbelief, “You know what, I truly thought that was the reason… It’s totally fine. I’m not who you think I am, by the way.”

A flicker of something crosses his features at your comment, something you can’t quite pick up, but he changes it quickly to a smirk. “Obviously.” He laughs, “I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable.. I’m not weird, I swear.”

“Mmm, that’s what they all say.” You tease.

He laughs, a soft sound that you want to hear over and over again. “You’ve got me there.” He takes a pause, placing his hands on the island countertop. “Let’s start over? If that’s okay? I didn’t want to mention it when I came in because I wanted us to have a fresh start.”

You push down the questioning thought of who this woman he mistook you for was, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. “That’s totally okay.. clean slate?”

“Clean slate.” He finalizes.

“Straightforward,” You add, “I like it.”

He gives you a warm smile, the same edge in the way he looks at you dances in his eyes before he breaks it off, sliding the bottle of beer out of your own hand. “Actually, I think I will have a beer. You don’t seem like a beer drinker, anyway.” He turns quickly, smirking at you before striding out of the room. “Thanks, Y/n!”

Protestations die on your lips as he disappears from the room, your beer along with him. How rude. You can’t help the smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you turn back to the cupboard, skipping the beer and pouring yourself a second glass of wine. You weren’t a beer drinker, after all.

Although you weren’t one for parties, you couldn’t help but admit the fact that you were having a good time. No, a great time. All of you are seated in Jimins living room; a plate of chips sits on the coffee table, which was the hot spot of the night (considering there’s hardly any remaining). Others in the group still have a glass of alcohol in their hands, the tipsiness evident by the slurring of their words. You had stopped yourself after half of your second glass, playing it safe since you still have to walk home after the party. You weren’t much of a drinker anyway-- your family history being the root of this decision.

It isn’t the games that made the night this enjoyable, or the food, or the movie that is currently playing over Jimin's television (which, by the way, is Moulin Rouge, because half of the room enjoys musicals, and the other half enjoys regular movies. So, you decided to settle on a movie musical). None of that matters, except the fact that you’ve never felt this carefree in a long time.

For one night, you can put aside your cafe job, auditions, and never-ending to-do lists and just have fun. Real fun. Even in the audition rooms, it has never been fun for you. It’s been nerve-wracking to a fault and always ends with a “thank you for taking the time, but we’ve decided not to accept you this time around,” or a callback, which ultimately concludes with the same grueling fate.

But this is different.

This is a group of people who genuinely want to spend time with you and get to know you… with no “not this time’s” or open-ended questions.

Especially with Taehyung. You’re surprised at how quickly the two of you seemed to hit it off, despite the awkward introduction. Now, it feels like he’s known you for years… in the best way. You’re comfortable talking to him, chatting together during the movie about the plot points or songs you find specifically endearing. You had initially planned to sit next to Jimin… but ended up next to Taehyung on the couch.

It just happened.

He enjoys musicals as well, you learn. Maybe not as much as you do, but at least he doesn’t despise them. He’s one of Jimin’s friends from their shared art class. He loves the color brown. His favorite food is watermelon. He does illustrations for Jimins journalism projects (which, in your opinion, are exceptional from the photos he showed you during the movie while the others were engulfed in the film). He wishes to pursue traveling journalism, where he draws what he sees rather than taking pictures. His whole aura is warm… like a heated blanket that envelopes you whole when you feel him shift beside you on the sofa. A small reminder that he’s still there.

Okay, you’re liking his presence way too much.

He finds romance movies corny but a guilty pleasure nonetheless. This, the reason why he agreed to watch Moulin Rouge despite the cheesiness in the beginning. In the end, it was anything but cheesy.

"Well, that was stupid." Jungkook scoffs, slamming the remote onto the neighboring loveseats' armrest. The once loud room filled with music is now quiet from the after-effects of the movie.

“I told you it was sad!” Jimin exclaims. The two of you had seen this movie before in theatres… and this was nothing compared to how the ending hit the first time. “Y/N was nearly choking. She was crying so hard when we saw it.”

An immediate blush rises onto your cheeks as you shake your head in defiance, trying to hide the tears that had been stinging your eyes for the last thirty minutes. “Who wouldn’t cry at that??”

“Taehyung probably didn’t. He never cries.” Hoseok deadpans. Ha. You can’t help but remember the tear that ran down his face in the cafe… He never cries?

With a quick look over your shoulder, you find that Taehyung is no longer seated on the couch. When did he get up? You attempt to shrug off your curiosity, pivoting back towards the chip table where only sad little crumbs remain. You were worrying way too much over a man you quite literally just met tonight… even if it felt like you’ve known him for much longer.

Taehyung eventually reappeared, stating that he had to use the bathroom— you ignored the fact that it took him a solid 30 minutes to get back to the party. It wasn’t your place to ask any questions, especially since he lifted a smile onto his face the second he reentered the room. See, y/n… nothing to worry about.

It wasn’t long before you insisted you head home, knowing that you’d curse yourself in the morning if you stayed out past the sunrise. If you did, you’d sleep through tomorrow, and that would be awful. You’ve done this a few times… and every time, you felt like you had wasted an entire year of your life.

You move to grab your purse and jacket, which are hanging comfortably on the hook beside the front door. With a small smile, you bid everyone goodnight— smiling as they resume a card game around the table at one o’clock in the morning. It’s nice to know that the group of you hit it off… now; you can look forward to plenty of get-togethers in the future.

Your mind is bustling with all kinds of ideas: picnics in central park, late-night broadway shows, hangouts at the caf-

“Y/n!” The soft calling of Taehyung's voice causes you to halt near the exit, turning on your heel to see him jogging towards you. He had haphazardly thrown his jacket over him since it’s still being tugged onto his body as he runs. His hair becomes even more chaotic in his haste… Why do you want to run your hands through it?

“Hey!” You squeak, interrupting your thoughts before they trudged down a guilty road. “What are you doing? Weren’t you going to play another round?”

He gives you a smirk, catching his breath as he holds out your house keys. “You forgot these! You were really moving fast… sick of us already?”

“Wh— oh my god, thank you!” With a quick swipe of your hand, you’re stuffing your keys into your pocket with a grateful smile. “Also, hardly.”

You admire the way his eyes light up at your confession. “Well.. since you don’t want to leave us so quickly.. how about I walk you home?” He seems almost hesitant asking, but you can’t help but applaud him for actually taking the initiative to inquire.

You shake your head, pulling the strap of your purse farther up your shoulder. “You don’t have t-“

“I want to!” He cuts you off quickly, catching you by surprise as he moves past you to open the door. He glances back, taking in your reluctant expression, “It’s not safe this time of night Y/n… You shouldn’t be alone.“

You know he didn't mean anything by that statement… But the idea of someone genuinely caring and not wanting you to be alone makes your heart swell. Jimin cares about your safety of course, but this feels… Different.

This is the reason why you allow him to walk you home.

The snow crunches beneath your feet, like a symphony that beckons you home. You’ve been feeling exhaustion seeping into your bones for the last ten minutes, but Taehyung's occasional brush of his arm as he walks beside you keeps you wide awake. He doesn’t think to apologize for accidentally touching you, but you blame it on the time of night. Delusion.

“How long have you lived in New York?” You question, wrapping your coat tighter around you to kick out the nipping air.

“About a year now,” He responds, shuffling his feet, “though it feels like way longer. You?”

“Three years.”

Taehyung turns his head towards you, eyes wide. “Wow, way to one up me.” With a teasing smile he continues, “You must know this city like the back of your hand.”

The truth is… you don’t. You came here for the sole purpose of making it on Broadway... you never really took the time to focus on anything else. Part of you wishes you had learned more, craved more, wanted more with your life—then you wouldn’t be so miserable when the one thing you do want doesn’t work out. “Yeah… kind of.”

If he hears the somber tone of your voice, he ignores it, turning against the wind as he walks backwards down the sidewalk. “It’s overrated in my opinion.”

You raise your head at this, “Why is that?”

“Everyone here has dreams… and those dreams get crushed more often than not.” He shrugs, “No one cares if you want to succeed, only if you already have.”

You stare at him for a moment, awestruck by the weight of his words. “But,” he adds, turning back towards the wind, “the ones who never give up and continue to chase that dream can become successful. Despite all of the no’s they might face, they always hold on till they hear a yes. That sounds like true success to me.”

Turning your head, you stare at the side of his face— admiring the way his hair tosses back a bit against the harsh winter winds. His words hit you way deeper than he probably realized, sinking into your chest with an overwhelming sense of accomplishment. You’ve been contemplating recently on whether or not to give up on your dream… that maybe it just wasn’t going to work out for you. You have been trying for so long, and have repeatedly been let down. There was no way Taehyung could have known, which is why his words hit you as hard as they did. Despite the hardships, you’ve been here for three years and you’ve never given up or stopped trying to chase your dream.

That was an achievement, right?

“To be honest… I've heard a lot of no’s in my three years of being here.” You speak softly, tucking a fallen strand of hair behind your ear. “Sometimes it feels like there will never be a yes… but here I am. At least I'm still working— at a coffee shop, not on the stage.”

“It’s admirable that you keep going.” Taehyung glances at you over his shoulder. “It makes you different from a lot of people who have left the city when they faced failure. It’s something to be proud of. Plus, coffee shop or big stage, you’re in New York City and pursuing your gift. It’s special.”

When your eyes meet, you smile at him, feeling a sense of victory the longer you hold his gaze.

“Don’t give up, Y/n. No matter what.” He speaks genuinely, leaning towards you to nudge you gently on your shoulder. You can’t help but laugh at his playfulness, giving him a nudge in return before your eyes downcast to your winter boots. The snow on the ground is fresh, powdery and sticking to the toes of your shoes. “Plus,” He adds, sucking in the chilly air, “you've got what others don’t have…”

This time when you meet his eye he has a serious expression, making sure he has your full attention as you round the corner towards your apartment building. His gaze is genuine, captivating… and a part of you hopes that the close proximity of your apartment wouldn’t cut this moment short. Finally, he speaks.

“You have passion.”

Taehyung's words weigh on you for the rest of your night. It started off as something simple, looking up audition songs for an upcoming off-broadway show your agent was telling you about. Then, you went to learning it. After that, putting on makeup. And finally, completely forgetting about your sleep schedule and filming an entire audition tape in your room at 2 in the morning (and you were belting… your poor neighbors). It wasn’t until four that you finally turned in for the night, not bothering to take off your makeup or get changed-- simply falling onto your pillow and blacking out the moment you hit it. You were definitely sleeping the next day away… but at that moment, you didn’t mind. Having a day off from your busy schedule wouldn’t be so bad.

“I sent in an audition tape two nights ago.” You speak confidently, wiping down the back counter that’s littered with coffee grounds. They stick to the rag like glue, tiny dots scattered along its white surface. If it weren’t for your apron,

and your expertly rolled up white turtleneck sweater, you would look alot like this rag right now.

“Did you?” Jimin questions from the bar, sleeving the cup before placing it on the handoff counter.

“Christopher! Medium cappuccino!” He calls, multitasking while he cranes his neck to still hear you.

“I did. I feel really good about this one..” You add, meeting him beside the bar as he lifts the pitcher up and down to create the latte-art of a flower in the center of the mug. You have tried sooooo many times to make latte art… and every time it ended up looking like a glob. A big, distorted snowball. Jimin was the master of latte art, always finishing it off beautifully with a whip of his wrist. The foam atop telling a story. “It was so late-- I was totally out of it… and yet I actually enjoyed myself while filming it. I just imagined being there.. In center stage.”

“I’m happy for you, Y/n!” He smiles, turning to place the hot mug next to the cappuccino.

“Caleb! Medium caramel latte!”

He was only half listening to you. The cafe was bustling, so it truly wasn’t Jimin's fault that he was sidetracked— but nothing could hold back the small smile that played at the edge of your lips. You had actually enjoyed singing for the first time in a while.. all because of Taehyung's Academy Award winning pep talk. Who knew that all you needed was for someone to tell you like it is. With a minuscule smile, you turn back towards the counter and lift the latte you’d whipped up this morning to your lips. Your distorted snowball is fully on display at the top.

Despite the busyness, the front register is deserted, giving you time to think for a moment about the pep talk... or rather, the person who gave you it.

“I think Taehyung likes you.” Jimin deadpans.

Uhhh… You nearly spit out your snowball at that— clearing your throat as you set it down slowly onto the wooden countertop. He speaks as if this is a natural conversation starter… it’s not.

“I’m sorry?” You croak.

“Taehyung.” He repeats, turning his head in your direction with a knowing smirk. “I think he likes you.”

You give him a scoff of disbelief, watching as yet another group of regulars enter through the door. “That’s not true, he just doesn’t know me… so he made an effort to talk to me.” If you weren’t studying the group, you would've seen Jimin giving you a scrutinized look.

So, now you have his attention.

“Y/n. It’s so obvious… He spent the entire night talking to you, he left moments after you did to give you your keys and he never came back. If that isn’t someone who’s interested, I don’t know what is.” Jimin is an expert at multitasking, finishing off two drinks at the same time and calling them out.

“Well, Jimin, when people don’t know each other, they get to know each other. It’s this thing called talking and becoming friends.” The sentence hangs in the air as the doorbell chimes, signaling that yet another customer has entered the cafe and into the swarm of regulars, but the two of you disregard the sound and continue on through your bickering.

“I’m just saying, Taehyung doesn’t usually talk to girls.” Jimin adds, wiping his hands off on the white rag seated beneath his espresso machine. “Even if they wanted his attention, he didn’t give it to them. I mean— he’s nice to girls, don’t get me wrong.. but he’s never talked to them like he did with you on game night. I don’t think he’s dated anyone since he got here.”

“He’s career driven.” You say quickly.

If you thought his smirk couldn’t get any wider, you were wrong. “Yeah, girls don’t know that about him— meaning he told you, and not other girls.” Jimin deadpans.

You stare blankly at him. There’s no way. No way that a guy as attractive as Taehyung would even think about looking at you like that. There’s just no way. You’ve never had a boyfriend... or even a guy friend, until Jimin. Eventually, you’d accepted the fact that maybe you just weren’t that interesting. Maybe you weren’t pretty enough. Maybe you couldn’t flirt…. okay, you definitely couldn’t flirt— but that’s besides the point.

“He’s not interested in me.” You conclude.

“He is.” Jimin counters.

“He’s not.”

“He so is.”

“He’s so not.”

“Y/n. I swear to you. He’s interested and you need to shoot your shot.” He whisper-screams, throwing the rag in his hand onto the bar.

“Taehyung is not-“

A clearing of someone’s throat from beyond the register cuts your argument short, nearly making you lose your balance when you see who the source was.

You’re fairly certain you’ve turned pale.

Taehyung stands in front of you, eyeing between the two of you with an awkward expression. God, how long has he been standing there? “I figured I should step in before the two of you start fist fighting.”

“Hey!” The shrill of your voice causes you to wince.

“Hey.” He says with a smile, folding his arms in front of him and raising his eyes to the menu above your head. You can’t help the glare you send towards Jimin, who's notably holding back his laughter as he moves to the blender, the station farthest from the register. Ridiculous.

“What can we get for you?” You ask routinely, trying not to make it obvious that you were just talking about him… and praying that he wasn’t there to hear what the two of you were talking about.

“Hmm…” He looks especially good today, wearing a brown, long coat and a brown plaid scarf around his neck. He wasn’t kidding when he said his favorite color was brown, that’s for sure. It suits him. His hair is wavy, flowing to a point just under his eyebrows with a split off center, giving you the tiniest glimpse of his forehead. “How about an americano with hazelnut, and some cream?”

“We can do that for ya!” You have to force yourself to stop looking at him, pressing the buttons to ring up his order before you forget. You nearly overlook ringing up the hazelnut syrup. Why were you so dazed? He’s already placed his credit card into the chip reader, but your foggy brain asks anyway. “Anything else?”

“Yes, actually.” He speaks as you move towards the bar beside the register. Grabbing an empty pitcher, you pour the milk inside and reach for the steamer. He drops a dollar into the tip jar, not giving you enough time to thank him for the unnecessary effort before he speaks again. “Are you free later?”

NEXT CHAPTER

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[yehet-me-up]

Reboot

Pairing: Jongdae/Chen x reader (female)

Word Count: 26,971 😬 read it in a mobile web browser if it crashes! 

Rating: (PG13) for swearing + sexy vibes (nothing more explicit than a kiss on the page though)

Summary: Chen’s Electronics is a mystery, both how the store came to be and the man running it. When you start working as a receptionist for the enigma that is Kim Jongdae, you’re determined to be the one who unravels the mystery. You’re prepared for anything, except for falling in love with Jongdae himself. 

Part eight of the Exodus Mall series (Can be read independently, but you’ll get some extra backstory if you read the other parts first!)

A/N: I’m SO delighted that Jongdae is getting his IRL happily ever after and I’m so excited to wrap up his fictional counterpart’s story today, so he can have his ending as well 💕

March 15th, 1997

Capitol Hill is in full swing, the promise of spring drawing the sleeping city from its winter hibernation. The silver dress you wear is far shorter than you're used to, but the denim jacket is big enough to properly cover your ass, which is something at least. In your platform boots, borrowed from your roommate Liz, you're almost tall enough to see over the busy street to Cal Anderson Park up ahead.

'Come on,' Liz says with an excited glint in her eye. 'The club's just on the far side of Boylston.'

You nod distantly, eyes wide as you try to take in all the people around you. After spending the last two years buried in a book in the UW library or at internships or in class it feels startling to realize how much youthful, passionate energy beats at the heart of the city so close to where you've been existing. Not that you never go out, but now that you’re approaching the end of your master’s degree you feel like a diver finally reaching the surface to draw breath. You’re ready to celebrate.

A door opens to your right and music surrounds you. An impassioned man sings about an even flow, accompanied by an aggressive drummer and what you can tell is skilled guitar playing. The people on the sidewalk beside you press in, screaming and cheering and trying to shove their way into a club. A faded sign above announces it as Moe's Bar.

Your roommate's hand finds yours and she pulls you out through an opening in the crowd.

Once you’re free again you laugh and brush your hair behind your ears. Dozens of other clubs and bars and late-night restaurants you pass are the same. Men with mohawks in every color of the rainbow. Women in combat boots with plaid jackets tied at their waists. A group of teenagers skateboard down Broadway, hollering into the night as they fly by, the clack of their wheels muffled by the lingering rain dampening the streets.

Everyone seems taken by the revelry. It would be so easy - to disappear into the thriving mass of people celebrating music and community and being alive. Now, with graduation so close you can finally taste it, you surrender to the sensation. Tilting your head back you look at the round full moon above, peeking out through the clouds, and give a joyful, if tentative, howl.

This makes your roommate turn and squeeze your hand. Liz smiles with pride. 'Now that's the spirit!' she says with a fist pump and howl of her own.

The nightclub is unassuming, especially amongst the neon and metal venues you passed to get here. Two simple brass lamps spotlight the enormous carved wooden doors. Bass thumps from within, the slight rattling of the doors is the only indication that life exists within. Shari’s reads the hanging sign.

Liz practically glows under the lights, a North star leading you into a whole new world.

After so many years of keeping your nose to the grindstone - success gained through effort rather than extraordinary intelligence; advanced classes, extra college courses during the summer, every extracurricular you could pack in before you cracked, a high school diploma by sixteen, bachelors by twenty and MBA by twenty two - you would follow her anywhere as long as it didn't involve studying or a business suit.

She guides you through the heavy wood door into a small entry room. A large man with so many piercings he'd have a terrible time at the security scanners at the airport checks your IDs. It's stayed in your wallet, practically untouched, since the official one came last year on your twenty-first birthday.

Finally inside the club you bite your lip to hide a wide, giddy smile of excitement. Bodies fill the dance floor, joyously swaying to the beat. A DJ booth rises from a far corner like Sauron’s tower in the Lord of the Rings. A man with dark hair that falls in his intense eyes runs the booth; a king commanding his loyal subjects.

Liz finds her group of friends from the mall she works at spread over two successive tables with circular cushioned benches behind them. Their names and faces blur together in the low lighting, but everyone is welcoming, offering you a smile or a shake of a hand. A cheerful blonde-haired man, who you swear says his name is Bacon, takes you and Liz’s coats and purses and adds them to an overflowing pile beside him.

Before you can even think of sitting down Liz guides you onto the dance floor. Normally you’re the one in control. The one with the plan. The group leader or the one who organized the debate team fundraiser/supply closet at work/networking mixer. But it’s… nice, not having to be the center of everything, keeping it together with your effort alone. 

She gives you a teasing smile as if she can read your thoughts and you roll your eyes with a laugh. ‘No overthinking this!’ she commands with a raised brow as you find a good spot.

As if I have any other way of thinking. ‘I promise nothing!’ you shrug and smile at her.

Your movements are slow at first, awkward, and you laugh to yourself with amusement. Self-deprecation has never been your poison. Along with an unshakeable drive to make something of yourself you've always had a healthy sense of self-esteem. Who cares if you aren't the best dancer?

You get into the swing after the second song and shake your ass with delight at the energy in the room and the incredible job the DJ is doing loosening you up. He’s remixing “Semi-Charmed Life” with an older techno hit you don’t recognize.

Before long Jongin, Liz’s crush and co-worker from the KOKO exercise studio, captures her attention and you end up dancing with Baekhyun (tragically not actually named Bacon) and a girl who calls herself Hitchcock. You recognize each other from a seminar last school year at UW and take a long break to catch each other up on your lives over shots at the table. 

She tells you about her dual jobs at Microsoft and the movie theater at the Exodus Mall. You fill her in on your thesis project and she offers to look over your resume as you plan to apply to a similar track at the tech giant after you graduate.

When Liz said she was forcing you from your obsessive, ahem dedicated, studying for your research paper you didn’t know what to expect, but it wasn’t all of this. Reconnecting with a friend. A potential foot in the door at your dream job. Dancing so much that your back gets slick with sweat. Laughing with Liz so hard your stomach aches as Baekhyun attempts to breakdance, nearly falling backwards into no less than four people.

As if the night couldn’t get any better, something else catches your eye. Someone else - the DJ steps down from the booth on a break.

His black pants, white shirt, and tie would be overly formal and out of place in the nightclub, but his pushed-up sleeves reveal muscled forearms. The neon yellow sunglasses and loose piano pattern of the tie he wears make him look sexy, in an off-duty retro businessman kind of way. His face reveals none of his emotions as he slips off his shades, tucking them in his jacket pocket. But the corners of his lips tilt up with amusement as he scans the room.

Clearly he’s impressed with the atmosphere he’s created here tonight. As he should be, you think. You imagine for a moment what it would be like if he noticed you. If this was a meet-cute or the start of something. But his focus is on the bar now, not lingering on you or anyone else in the club. Dating for you was a rocky road and absolutely nothing like the way it looked in the John Hughes movies that were your guilty pleasure growing up.

Between your parents' support and your own innate thirst for success, you always felt like an outsider in terms of relationships. Extroverted and empathetic enough to make and maintain friendships, but boys were tougher. You could never figure out dating to your satisfaction in high school and you left when most of your peers were just finishing up Sophomore year.

In college there was hope. Studious and hardworking men with glasses and a love of Emily Dickinson and black coffee. Law school-bound guys who rowed crew and whose confidence was just on the right side of attractive instead of insufferable. John Cusack types with easy smiles and crates of vinyl they carefully collected, who performed at the Comedy Underground in hopes of ‘being discovered.’

It was both thrilling and irritating. You went after dating with almost as much determination as you did your school and career, set on experiencing everything possible.

But the English major wanted someone in a pastel dress and tights, who volunteered at an animal shelter and didn’t eviscerate him at Scrabble. The future lawyer was looking for his future trophy wife, to stand beside him at fancy dinners and fraternity mixers. And the Lloyd Dobler wannabe needed a muse, a beautiful and ethereal woman to be his object of longing, to laugh at his jokes and pass through life without worry about the future.

Not that you were jealous, or even bitter. Just because you weren’t what they were looking for wasn’t anything personal and you never took it like it was. The women they wanted existed and were wonderful in all their own ways. But it grated at you, how you always felt like a square peg in a round hole. Never being the right fit.

All your life you’d gotten used to knowing, and getting, what you wanted. It was insanely frustrating to not have found anything that stuck. Failure in any form made you frown, but thankfully romantic mishaps always took a backseat to school, friends, and your future, so it was easy to ignore. Until now.

The DJ passes close enough to you and Liz that you can see the echoes of dark circles under his eyes and the rich brown of his hair in the passing neon lights. For some reason that same intuition, that same hunger and drive that had propelled you to awards and scholarships and countless other successes, tells you to follow him. Whatever it is about him, your body and your desire react before your mind and conscious rational thought.

'I'll be back,' you yell to your roommate over the music. She nods and gives you a thumbs up as she's drawn into Jongin’s embrace once more.

Like a missile you weave through the crowd, target in sight. You watch as the DJ leans against the end of the bar, carefully positioning himself so he's at the end with no one behind him. You wonder if it's out of a dislike of people sneaking up on him or if he's a predator, sizing up the crowd.

With a casual hand he orders a drink from the bartender and surveys the crowd coolly. Too high on life to care too much, you take the seat two over from him, carefully avoiding eye contact, feigning nonchalance. ‘Self-possessed,’ that’s how your fifth grade teacher described you. Independent and old beyond your years. It always thrilled you, the praise and respect of adults. You wanted to earn more of it, to be seen as capable and mature.

But something about the man beside you makes you feel younger. Raw and playful in a way you’re not sure you’ve ever been before.

Admiring the cut of his jaw, you imagine kissing it. His hands on the bar are graceful, strong, befitting his profession. You want him and you want him to want you. The thought makes you inhale a deep breath, not even sure what that would mean. Adrenaline and delight fill your mind and you briefly fantasize about him holding you close on the dance floor like Jongin does to Liz. His hands on your hips and his mouth teasing your neck.

The bartender reappears on your side of the bar, his bald head gleaming in the lights of the club, and you snap back into reality. The flames tattooed across his knuckles shine as he slides a drink down the length of the bar, towards the DJ. An impulsive, reckless daring you've only ever felt before at debate tournaments makes you reach out and catch the glass of dark liquid before it can reach its desired recipient.

In one smooth motion you lift it to your lips and turn to meet the DJ's deep brown eyes. With a smirk you raise the glass. In two gulps you down the drink, the bourbon burning its way down your throat, reminding you how good it feels to be free, to be alive. 

To challenge someone who feels like a decent opponent.

He watches you, his eyes flaring with surprise before fading back to indifference. He looks like a tiger in a cage at the zoo, pacing in front of a glass divider. His fingers tap impatiently on the lacquered bartop and he tilts his head, watching as you lick the moisture from your lip, savoring the taste. You wonder if he'd be just as heady and strong on your tongue.

You have the feeling that with the slightest pressure in the right place and the glass would shatter, unleashing the beast within. The thought makes you clench your thighs together, a heat filling you that has nothing to do with the people pressing in on you trying to get the attention of the bartender.

The DJ seems just as self-contained as you are. A voice inside you whispers of unstoppable forces meeting immovable objects and you wonder which of you would cave first.

Before you can say anything, before you can even wipe the satisfied smile off your lips or ask his name or offer to pay for the drink, he drops a bill to the counter and slides off the stool. He pushes into the crowd, disappearing as if he'd never been there. As if he hardly noticed you.

But you didn't miss the interest, the arousal, the animal within him rising to your challenge. He slinks back up to the DJ booth and resumes his position of power, thirst unquenched.

You don't know his name, or anything about him. Aside from the fact that the way he looks at you feels so wrong it's right, and that his hands are the first ones you've ever wanted wrapped around your waist so badly you can feel it beating in your palms.

But you know one thing, as you rejoin your roommate on the dance floor, whatever has started between you and the enigmatic DJ isn't finished.

May 21st, 1997

You straighten your blazer, looking in the mirror to make sure your outfit is perfect. It’s not your first interview this week and it certainly won’t be the last, but it is the one you’re the most curious about.

The position as a receptionist and accountant for an electronics repair store isn’t exactly how you pictured your first job after getting your MBA, but the pay and the opportunity to work alongside the enigmatic tech genius Kim Jongdae is a chance you can’t pass up.

All that’s left is the graduation ceremony in June and then you’re free. Your final exams are done, your thesis is defended, and you’ve completed a thorough and perhaps slightly obsessive spreadsheet documenting all your connections who might have an in at your most desired companies. Now knee-deep in the process of interviewing for jobs it strikes you all of a sudden that this is what you’ve been working for… almost all your life.

The lighting in the bathroom of the mall is stark and a moment of uncertainty makes your knees weak.

Since your test results in elementary school came back top of the class it’s been the same refrain. Get good grades. Impress your teachers. Study and diversify your interests and push harder every year and eventually it will all pay off, right? You’re damn proud of what you’ve done, but now, here in the after, all you can think as you watch your own reflection is - now what?

Frowning, you wonder how many other applicants there are for this job. Anyone in the tech circle in Seattle knows about Jongdae. Rumors abound that he was set to be the next Bill Gates when an investment deal went south. Or that he was kicked out of Harvard for embarrassing his professors with his superior smarts. Someone in your Econ seminar once told you she’d heard that he was contracted by the NSA to spy on foreign hackers.

Whatever his history, he currently runs a computer and electronics repair store in a very unassuming mall in Capitol Hill. You want to stand out, and what better way to do so than the track down the mystery of Kim Jongdae, the prodigy turned hermit. You infuse your veins with confidence, knowing you can handle anything thrown at you. Or so you think.

The mall is quiet and peaceful in the mid-morning on a Wednesday. A couple of tables in the food court are filled with older men and women playing cards and board games. A group of moms walks past you talking about a storytime at the bookstore in the mall.

The slow and steady hum of activity in here is a far cry from where you thought you’d be working. Professors encouraged you to head to IBM or Oracle. With your skills, business sense, and intuitive ability to pick up each new trend in technology they told you that you would have your choice of opportunities.

But while you’re no stranger to hard work and a competitive work environment, the idea of clawing your way to the top of yet another group of high achievers just sounds… awful.

You long to travel, to finally see some of the exotic and culturally rich places you’ve stuck photos of to your fridge. You want to be able to actually go out on the weekends and see your friends. Whatever your future holds you want to finally enjoy your life outside of school and work, even if it’s only for a year.

You could always recognize the friends who were interning at Amazon because they looked like they’d come off a week of no sleep. Many of your fellow MBA graduates were flocking there, as the company finally went public earlier this month. But something just felt - off to you. Like a canary in a coal mine.

Purpose, fulfillment, financial security, and a challenging work environment? Yes.

Burnout, no free time, and living and breathing for ‘the company’? No, thank you.

At the salary Jongdae had advertised you could easily continue to afford the apartment you shared with your two roommates and work on paying off the remaining student loans your scholarships hadn’t covered. And you could hide away a small amount of your check every month for the trip to Amsterdam you’ve been planning for years.

The gentle music in the wide, bright lobby of the mall makes you sigh in relief. This job is a win-win and you’re more determined than ever to get it.

You finally see the shop. If you weren’t looking for it, you’d have missed it between the black and neon purple exterior of KMS Music and the narrow security office tucked behind the lively pizza restaurant. There’s a line winding its way in front of the music store and you assume it’s for an album release. Until you realize that the line is leading straight where you’re going and stop in your tracks.

Chen's Electronics. The mall is full of colors and bright shop fronts. But this is almost bleak in comparison, as though it's resisted the outright displays of joy and liveliness that seem to be at the heart of the mall. The sign is red neon against a black and steel facade. A simple poster hangs in one of the two wide windows that frame the door.

We do: - Hard Drive Repair - Internet Connectivity Issues - Computer virus protection - Turntables, record players, and other portable home audio systems - Radios - POS/credit card system repair (For stores in the Exodus Mall only)

We do not: - Sell computers or computer parts. Don't ask.

You raise a brow at the last note. The harsh exterior of the store and the brusque tone definitely match with what you've heard of Chen's Electronics - that the man who runs it is a computer genius, but that his bedside manner leaves much to be desired. Perhaps that's why the job posting emphasized 'superior customer service skills.'

The line you join grows, others coming in behind you, and you wonder if Jongdae told everyone the same 10am time frame or if he staggered interviews throughout the day. As you wait the line slowly dwindles. A woman leaves crying a few minutes later, and you watch her go with surprise and attempt to peek into the store. You’re still too far back to see in, so you’re left to wait and wonder.

Finally you’re next, waiting just outside the store. A printed piece of paper is taped to the door. CLOSED FOR INTERVIEWS it says in big, bolded letters.

The tall man who was ahead of you in line isn’t visible at either of the two work stations set up inside the shop. There must be a back room of some kind. You take the moment to check out the space. The store is organized chaos. Rows of shelves line each of the two walls, full of equipment - computers in various states of disassembly, old transistor radios, a VHS player, a few turntables, and endless coiled stacks of cords interspersed.

The walls above them and the two walls behind the work stations, on either side of the hallway leading to the back, are blank. No advertisements or personalized touches to make the business seem welcoming. Just bland, empty beige walls. One desk has only a computer, keyboard, and mouse. The other is full of parts and tools that extend over the desk to not one, but two shelving units behind it. Like Jongdae was in the middle of a project and the interviews are a rude interruption.

A muffled angry shout comes from the back, behind the gray curtain hung up over the entrance to the rear of the store. The tall man moves it aside with a sneer as he charges across the floor. With a voice practically a growl he shoves open the door and you jolt back to avoid being hit.

He looks you up and down and shakes his head. ‘Good luck. You’ll need it.’

After a last straightening of your jacket you swallow and push through the door. It's quiet inside, almost reverent, as the door closes behind you. The fluorescent lighting overhead isn't the most welcoming and the tan carpet is terribly dated. No one comes to meet you. The man on the other side must be waiting, like a dragon in his lair.

Your hand closes over the strap of your purse and you hesitate at the curtain, not wanting to move forward without being invited. 'Hello?'

Footsteps come down the short hallway and a hand appears, moving the curtain out of the way to reveal a man. Your jaw almost drops. Oh, shit. It's not at all who you were expecting the famed Jongdae to be - a studious man with glasses and a bad tie.

No, this man is handsome in an aggressive way. His black hair is styled back in a neat wave. His high cheekbones and strong brows hold no humor or friendliness. Only the catlike upturn of his lips stands in rebellious contrast to his unwelcoming face.

This isn't the first time you've seen this face either, you realize, and it's like being run over by a train. He seems to connect the dots at the same moment and his eyes widen, eyebrows raising. It’s the DJ from the bar. The drink. The - oh, god.

He presses his mouth together, smothering his surprise and sitting down harshly in the chair at the crowded desk in the main room. 'What are you doing here?' He keeps his voice tightly contained, not minding in the least that the other potential job candidates are surely watching you both right now.

You give yourself a small shake and remember you're not here to hit on him. You're here for a job. 'I have an interview.'

Best case is ignoring the whole thing. It didn’t happen. Not here in the light of day. His poker face might be good, but yours is better. You keep your breathing even and hope that the racing of your heart isn’t making your cheeks red.

He tilts his head to the side, pressing his lips together in amusement. ‘Alright then.’ Turning to the side he stands and holds the curtain open, allowing you to pass by him into the small office behind.

Holding his focus, you pull out the chair in front of the desk and sit down. You place the resume and references on the table between you and fold your hands on your lap, waiting.

Jongdae takes his place opposite you as he slides the papers across the desk. His eyes dart faster than you can imagine anyone reading. He doesn’t seem flustered, but the tips of his ears are just slightly pink, his nose flaring a bit too much, and you realize he’s just as caught off guard as you are.

Finally, he finishes. 'I… don't think this is going to work.' He looks up, his hand resting on your paperwork on the desk. His face gives away nothing, but his eyes are wild and full of emotion you can’t decipher.

'Why is that?' You keep your voice steady, determined. He’s not going to dismiss you so quickly. Realizing the DJ and the tech wunderkind are one in the same has only heightened your desire to show him you’re the best person for the job.

Jongdae stares at you. This time, there's heat in his expression. You feel his eyes move over you, not taking in the professional attire, but clearly remembering the dress you wore from the club instead. 'I think you know why,' he says under his breath.

Clearing your throat you lean forward, drawn to him by some force you can't define. Like something is shoving you towards this job. 'I don't know what you mean. The posting was for an office manager and bookkeeper. I'm qualified in both and I have plenty of experience. Are you really going to decide I’m not a good fit without even asking me a single question?'

He groans and runs a hand through his hair, his composure faltering for an instant. 'Why do you want this position? You know nothing about me.'

He states it like a fact, not an opening for discussion, but you jump on it anyway. 'I know plenty.'

Satisfaction blooms in your chest when he narrows his eyes, raising a brow. 'I do my research, Mr. Kim. I’m top of my class at UW and I didn’t get there by accident. With such a small team I could get a far broader experience than I could being just another cog in the machine at Microsoft. I might not know you personally, but your reputation precedes you. I plan to excel in the tech industry. And to do that, I need to work with the best. Simple as that.'

'And I'm the best?' He leans back in his chair. Resting his elbow on the armrest, he drags a finger across his lips in appraisal.

His quick responses remind you of the competitive tennis you played growing up. The way it felt to thrive when paired with an equal opponent, someone who could match your speed and precision. Someone who gave as good as they got. How it made you better, sharpened your skills and reflexes up against someone who you couldn’t easily defeat.

'Are you trying to tell me you're not?' You cross your arms and look around, feigning surprise and curiosity. 'If you tell me who is, I'll happily go apply to be their office manager.'

He almost laughs in amusement. You can feel it. But he covers it as a cough instead and tilts his head to the side, sizing you up. 'And you know what this job entails?'

You repeat it easily from memory. 'Being the face of the business. Greeting walk-in customers. Helping them figure out if what they need is something we do. Conferring with you about pricing. Scheduling service appointments over the phone. Processing payments. Ordering supplies. Occasional advertising assistance. Other assorted duties as needed.'

'That about sums it up.'

In the charged silence you hear the muffled noises of the mall - children squealing with delight, orders being called out at the pizza restaurant next door, people talking - but it's all separated. You wonder if the distance is intentional. Many stores have roll up gates or at least have their doors propped open to draw in customers. But not Jongdae. It’s almost as though he’s actively trying to keep visitors out.

You favor boldness and decide to push him, what have you got to lose? 'So, when do I start?' Leaning forward, you give him a relaxed smile. ‘Unless you’d like to terrorize a few more applicants before you choose me? I’m happy to wait, Mr. Kim. But you can’t scare me away. And you don’t intimidate me.’

With equal decisiveness he cracks a lopsided grin and shakes his head, with both amusement and resignation. 'How's now for you?'

You give a passing thought to the other jobs, the ones you’d already interviewed for and the ones on your schedule over the coming days. They all go up in a whiff of smoke as you extend your hand across the table to shake Jongdae’s hand.

‘Now is perfect.’ His palm is warm against yours and you do your best not to react to the contact, but you can’t help the soft sigh that escapes you.

Jongdae withdraws his hand quickly, and you note with pleasure that he seems a bit shaken as he stands. ‘I’ll be right back. You can leave your things here.’ He motions to the coat hooks on the wall by the door and the tall, thin bookshelf with a few cubby slots.

Aside from a black scarf and a few extra office supplies on two of the shelves the rest of the space is empty. You wonder what he isn't saying. 'What made you want help, all of a sudden?’ He pauses and turns back to you. ‘From what I can tell you've been in business for a few years. Why now?'

He sighs. 'I'm too busy to keep doing this by myself.'

'Ah. And you hate that, don't you?'

The ghost of a smile graces his lips. 'Yes.'

Jongdae disappears through the curtain. You follow him after putting your coat on a hook and your purse in one of the spotless cubbies. The rest of the space contains a few filing cabinets, stacks of boxes, and a small safe resting on a narrow table.

When you appear back into the hallway you see a door to the left that must lead out the back. And on the opposite side is an archway with a kitchen sink, a microwave, a small fridge, and a few cupboards inside, along with a small circular table. The table has only one chair. You smile to yourself. Clearly he's accustomed to doing everything by himself.

When you emerge the other applicants are dispersing as he peels the taped sign off the door, balling it up in his hands.

Jongdae gets you set up on the computer at the other desk. It’s a relatively simple customer management software and payment system, both of which you pick up in no time. He runs you through the pricing list, pulling a laminated form from the top drawer. His filing system for customer accounts is simple and alphabetized.

Neither of you speak about that night again, but oh, do you feel it - the electricity between you when he stands too close or you meet his eyes.

Until lunch he alternates between training you and assisting customers who come in every so often. It's all straightforward, nothing you haven't managed before, and by the afternoon you're already scheduling appointments in the large old-school appointment book he keeps open to the current week.

Despite the passion and intensity in the music he plays, he keeps an even keel throughout his day job. It's almost as if you went to sleep last night and somehow woke up as someone who's worked here for years. Before closing at 5:30 he remembers other things and hands you a packet on the way out. Tax forms, an employment agreement listing the salary and benefits, and a non-disclosure form. Most of it is standard, but you wonder what kind of secrets he needs to protect at an electronics store.

You gather your things and wait outside while he closes down the shop, turning off the lights as he goes. It’s still quite sunny outside and with a shock you realize that there’s nothing waiting for you, now that the work day is done. No papers to write or projects to finish or internship to head to. The idea makes you feel unexpectedly buoyant, and when Jongdae steps out to lock the doors you give him an easy smile.

He returns it, giving you a small one of his own in response. ‘So, I normally take Tuesdays off and keep the shop closed. Wednesdays are normally pretty slow. How does Thursday through Monday sound to you? I know today is Wednesday, so if you wanted to take tomorrow off instead that’s fine with me.’

‘I’m happy to come in tomorrow.’ You want to wince at the eagerness in your voice, but instead you stand firm, holding your purse in front of you with both hands.

Jongdae slides his hands into the pockets of his jacket and nods, looking at you for a long moment before speaking. ‘Sounds great, I’ll see you then.’

You nod at him too, turning back towards the department store to head out to your car. After a beat you look behind you and see he’s still watching. His gaze is unfocused on the floor before he shakes his head, seeming to come back to himself. He heads the opposite direction, towards the movie theater. In a few seconds he’s disappeared behind the pizza place, out of sight.

Jongdae takes the longer route home today. His apartment overlooking Lake Union is the one he grew up in, his grandfather’s place. When he passed away a year ago he left it to Jongdae and it never occurred to him to move. He walks along the water, breathing in the early summer air, wanting to laugh at himself. How long has it been since he let himself be impulsive? To act on instinct. To want something.

He’d settled into a routine these past few years, since everything changed after graduation. Working at the store. Reading. Playing Go and chess with his grandfather and the other older men that lived in the building. They’d go fishing out on the peninsula or to the local symphonies that his grandfather loved. Routine had saved him when his world fell apart once, but now, with his grandfather’s absence, he’s not sure how to pick up the pieces anymore.

The seagulls on the pier are loud today, hungrily gobbling up the bread and Ivar’s french fries tossed to them by the kids gathered around. They giggle and laugh, running to their parents for more offerings. Jongdae frowns for a moment, the sadness that he doesn’t often acknowledge creeping into his heart.

His parents were gone before he really even had a chance to know them. His father to lung cancer, from the awful smoking habit he picked up in the Navy. His mother moved back to Korea to be with her family, unable to cope being in the city without her husband. Jongdae didn’t blame her, but the distance grew and they drifted apart as he became an adult himself.

Jongdae’s father’s father settled here after World War Two, along with a few of his friends. From what he remembers there wasn’t a discussion about it after the funeral - if he’d stay or go back to Korea with his mother. One day when he was young he knew his father had passed. His mother left. And with two duffle bags slung over his shoulders and little Jongdae in his arms his grandfather had moved him into the apartment with the pretty view of the water. 

And that’s the way it was, ever since.

In school his friends might have joked that Jongdae was an old man himself. Doing the New York Times crossword puzzle on Sundays, getting his hair cut at the same hole-in-the-wall barber shop in Chinatown as his grandfather, and hanging out with more octogenarians than people his own age. But he loved his grandfather and the two of them were so close that he never stopped to question whether he should change to fit in with the rest of his classmates.

The only aberration came when he started DJ-ing at eighteen. The crowd he fell in with and the partying he did was short lived; they crashed and burned, went up in flames. Everything else faded as quickly as it had come, but the club scene was his escape and it stayed with him.

These days it feels like the only time he recognizes himself, now that his grandfather is gone, too. Until you walked into his store today, that is. You looked him dead in the eyes, unafraid. Just like the night all those weeks ago in the club when you came up to him, flirted with him and challenged him.

He doesn’t know how to move on with his life.

He doesn’t know what’s next.

But wanting you, inviting you into his life, is going to change everything. He knows it in his bones and for once change excites him, instead of frightens him.

June 18th, 1997

For an achingly slow two hours on Thursday the only sounds in the shop are your typing and Jongdae’s tools hitting the metallic insides of the radio he’s fixing. You should be processing yesterday's supply orders. Or cleaning up the books to get everything ready for the days' billing before you make a run to the bank.

But instead you watch in your periphery the way the muscle in Jongdae’s jaw moves when he's focusing. How his brows pull together and his lower lip sticks out slightly, making him look as though he's perpetually pouting. You wonder if you would have gotten along with him in school. If he was always so... uptight. Or if he was freer, looser. Not that you’re the picture of ease yourself, but he seems to almost vibrate with tension.

You watch as he turns back to the computer, his fingers fly across the keyboard and you admire the absolute focus he shows toward the screen in front of him. The past few days he’s handled repairs and projects for businessmen and women, families, and two gentlemen in suits that screamed ‘government’ to you. He could be repairing a nuclear warhead in front of you and you imagine his expression would remain the same.

His standard white button-up shirt bunches around his biceps while he works. A mischievous part of you wonders what it would take to make his robotic exterior crack again. What it would take for him to show joy or anger or arousal. Emotion from him is a precious, rare thing and you want to grab them when they do show, holding them tightly as proof they exist.

You jolt, realizing the unintended destination your thoughts have arrived at. Arousal. Where did that come from? With a cough and a shake of your head you refocus on the financial statements in front of you.

If you hadn't seen him that night at the club you'd have wondered if he ever enjoyed himself. He wasn't smiling that night, but the music and the dancing and the palpable energy seemed to soften the hard lines of his face. You want to see more of that Jongdae, the one that feels so much closer to who he really is, underneath it all.

However he started in this business, in the tech scene, he works away at it as though it's his sole purpose in life. He's clearly talented enough to fix anything, code anything. You’d asked him last week how he knows what to do, as you looked into a complicated mess of wires sticking out of a broken CPU as though it were gibberish.

All he’d said, in a gruff voice, was that his grandfather liked to tinker and take things apart before putting them back together, to see how they worked, and that he’d picked up the habit.

'Why do you work by yourself?' The sound of your voice is much louder than intended, breaking the hush in the store. You want to swallow the words, unsure why you didn't stop them from escaping. Instead you bite the skin on the inside of your cheek and watch as he lifts his head to look at you.

Jongdae raises a brow. 'As opposed to?'

You stop typing and lean back in your chair. 'You could have worked for anyone, I bet. After you graduated college. I’ve heard a few of the rumors about you. It sounds like you could have done anything you wanted. What made you want to start your own business?'

He mirrors your pose. 'What makes you think I went to college?'

You blink. For so long your parents' idea of a prosperous life - good grades, extracurriculars, graduate from a top college, get a lucrative, secure job - had been so ingrained that it surprises you to imagine that someone like him didn't go to school. 'You didn't?'

He smiles, the dimple appearing briefly in his cheek. 'Alright, fine. Yes, I did. I went to M.I.T. and I, uhm, graduated at seventeen.'

'Seventeen?' The competitive drive that buried itself in your bones early on wants to prove itself to him, awed by the size of his intellect.

'With my PhD.' He winces. Just for a moment, but you catch it.

'Oh,' you say with a stunned laugh.

He goes back to work with a quick shake of his head and a sigh. 'Yeah, that right there is why I don't tell people.'

You’re surprised by his assumption that you’d view it as a bad or repulsive fact. 'It's amazing. You should be proud of it. Why would you want to keep that a secret?'

His lip pouts again and irrationally you think about what it would be like to kiss him. 'Because now you'll look at me differently. Like I'm some kind of freak of nature.'

'I don't think it makes you a freak.' Your answer is immediate and emphatic.

'Oh really?' He gives you a side-glance, keeping his tone neutral.

'No, it makes you a genius. And intelligence is never a bad thing. Quite the opposite, in fact.' It does nothing to help the attraction you feel for him. Rather than dousing the flames, it pours gasoline on them.

'Tell that to -' he stops himself, pressing his lips together. The bitterness in his voice makes you jerk back in your seat. ‘Nevermind. It was a long time ago. Forget I said anything.’

But you can fill in the gaps, no stranger to the judgement of others. 'Clearly you need better friends.'

He blinks, vulnerability filling his eyes. 'Like you?' His expression softens and he gives you a half-smile.

You blush, realizing what it must look like that you’re so passionate about defending him. 'Sorry, I didn't - all I mean is that it’s attractive.’ You curse yourself and cough delicately, trying to appear impartial. ‘An attractive quality. I just got my master’s and I thought I was advanced for my age. So I just meant to say… I get it. And you’re not a freak.’

The moment stretches out between you, the air in the space seeming to pause. The muted, reverent silence fills the distance once more. But this time it’s charged, tense. Waiting. He breathes in deeply, the shirt he wears stretching across his chest and yet again you long to touch him. For a beat his gaze drops to your lips and he swallows, opening his mouth to speak.

But he’s interrupted by the door opening. The ding of the motion sensor makes you both jolt, turning to see who it is. An older woman comes in carrying a heavy looking bag. She coughs and leans against the door to rest.

Jongdae bolts up from his desk, clearing his throat. 'Here, let me help with that.'

He bows to her with a warm smile, holding his hands out to take the bag. She nods and Jongdae slings the bag over his shoulder, wincing when it collides with his back. With a gentle arm around her back he helps her into the chair opposite his desk.

'Thank you, young man,' the woman says with a smile.

'Not at all,' Jongdae says, resuming his post on the stool. 'How can I help you today?'

You're certain your mouth has fallen open. To difficult customers he's brief, almost condescending, and for the nice ones he’s reserved and polite, but nothing like this. For over an hour he patiently connects the woman's computer to his power strip and walks her through how to use it. 

Again and again he shows her the links and how to work the web browser. Installs a complimentary virus protection program. Makes sure she can find the Solitaire application she loves. And only charges her $20.

But after she leaves the next customer is a businessman dressed in what looks to be a very expensive suit. Jongdae spends the laughably short visit practically sneering at the man. And he charges him at least twice what it says on the pricing list he gave you.

As soon as the door closes you release the laugh you’ve been holding in. 'You know, for someone who runs a business, you seem hell bent on driving some of your customers away.'

He shakes his head, hair falling in his eyes. 'He was a moron. You don't buy the Rolls Royce of computers if you don't know how to drive it.'

'So the only exception here is kind old ladies?'

Jongdae barks out a laugh, meeting your gaze and looking younger than you’ve ever seen him. 'Exactly.'

June 28th, 1997

Moments after you walk out the door for lunch during a bustling Saturday it pings again, announcing yet another customer. This one is probably his scheduled twelve o’clock appointment, Jongade thinks as he looks distractedly at his watch.

He turns to greet them and his entire body recoils. 'What do you want?' Jongdae practically hisses, but he keeps his tone even with all his might.

Since you’ve taken over scheduling Jongdae hardly looks at his calendar anymore. If he’d known Julian Danforth was seeking his help he would have told him to fuck off. Unfortunately Jongdae’s hesitation in talking about his past means you could have no possible idea how much the man standing before him used to matter.

Julian strolls in with a computer in his arms and a smugness on his mouth that Jongdae wants to punch off. His sunglasses are perched on the top of his head and his khaki shorts have neatly pressed lines, clearly not done by the man himself, who drips with privilege.

He'd thought these feelings were long buried, but they roar in Jongdae’s chest. The friendships and the future he almost had are now scattered behind him like a trail of carnage, all the fault of this man. The burn of sadness and embarrassment that fills Jongdae’s stomach was supposed to be gone, relinquished to ashes. But seeing one of his former best friends again Jongdae feels like he's ten years old, stuck in a class with far older students. Young, inexperienced, an outcast.

‘Good afternoon to you as well, old friend.’ Ignoring the daggers Jongdae is staring at him, Julian steps forward, setting the computer down on the desk. 'Like I told the woman on the phone I'm having a problem with some computer virus.'

He says it like it’s a slimy, living thing that had crawled into his machine. Displeasure colors his expression; annoyed at the mere thought that his money and status don’t render him immune from such commonplace problems. ‘You know I don’t trust anyone else with my system.’

After what you did I should smash your computer open. Jongdae doesn't speak as plugs the machine into the power strip he rigged to his desk, not willing to risk what he’ll say.

It's a far more expensive model of computer than most of his clients bring in. Those who purchase such a high end version fall into two camps - enthusiasts like himself who know what they're getting, or the rich and famous who buy them as status symbols and have no clue how to work them. Julian, unfortunately, falls into the latter category.

The computer starts up and Jongdae’s mind goes into work mode, tuning out Julian. The virus has rendered it unusable, only a blur of symbols and lines of code flit across the screen. None of the normal exit keys brings up the desktop. Jongdae purses his lips and slides in the floppy disk he keeps beside his own monitor, an anti-virus he designed.

He leans into muscle memory as he runs through the start up and sets the program to do its job. With any luck the idiot just found some simple malware from some incredibly obvious email spam or downloaded a bug on a porn site. In all social and business sense Julian is a shark; he'd never have fallen for such an obvious scam in real life. But when it came to computers and technology he was hopeless, and thus Jongdae had come into his life years ago.

'How long have you been set up here?' Julian asks with a dismissive glance at the machines and equipment stacked on the shelves.

'Why do you care?' The question comes out harsher than he intends, but the emotion isn't entirely unearned.

Once upon a time he and Julian met in Seattle, after Jongdae was fresh out of M.I.T. and Julian had flunked out of yet another University. They were determined to build a business together. If he had more energy Jongdae would wear this store and his reputation proudly, built from no family connections or money, just his own intelligence and drive. After how thoroughly Julian severed Jongdae’s life he should rub his success in Julian’s face with pride.

Instead he ignores him, determined to move on.

The program finishes its run in rapid time, as though it knows how quickly Jongdae wants this moment to end. The virus dissipates and the desktop loads like normal. He's tempted for a second to indulge his curiosity to see what Julian has been up to. Last he knew Julian had gone to work at his father’s investment bank, dreams of standing on his own cowed by the reality of the world outside of his comfortable bubble. Without Jongdae there’s no way the business and the program held up to scrutiny. 

For a second Jongdae stares at the screen, remembering how good it had felt to have found his people. Tech nerds, hungry to build something that would change the world. Julian, who wanted to cast off his father’s legacy and strike out on his own. Julian’s girlfriend Marissa and her soft heart, who wanted to help people. Their friend Albert, with the plan. 

Once he knew them so well he hardly knew where he ended and they began. But now, all these years later, they’re strangers.

Jongdae looks up and watches Julian as he absently admires the collection of turntables on the wall behind the desk. He knows Julian well enough to know this might be an act of contrition, his way of bridging the gap he created to reach out the olive branch of friendship once more. But Jongdae’s curiosity already killed the cat once, spectacularly, and he has no desire to repeat the mistake.

He unplugs the machine and watches the screen go dark, shoving it with both hands across the polished wood surface towards Julian. 'There. It's fixed.'

For customers who are far more polite and far less acquainted with Jongdae he might have explained what caused the virus or recommended an anti-virus software or even shared best practices to avoid getting one in the future. But, for Julian, he'll do what he was hired for and nothing more.

Julian stands and clears his throat uncomfortably. 'How much do I owe you?' A hint of guilt as he pulls out his wallet.

The motion reminds Jongdae of vacations to Marissa's family home in the San Juans or partying with Julian, Albert, and the rest of them in Capitol Hill. When they turned on him it was like the sun went out. He managed to take his pride and his love of music and DJing and escape. Once Jongae rebuilt his life the doors to the past firmly closed.

Anger finally peeks through as he waves a dismissive arm at Julian. 'I don't want your money. Not spending a second longer in your company will be all the payment I need.' He stands as well. Their business today is done and he lets his memories of the past fall before him like ashes.

An awkward beat passes between them and finally Julian breaks eye contact. With a nod to the ground he pushes out the door and disappears, carrying his computer.

He breathes out a sigh of relief, folds his arms, annoyed at how his position and his continued presence here in Seattle occasionally brings him into contact with people like Julian. He should have moved, he thinks. Gone to Singapore or Berlin or London or New York. But for some reason, he stayed.

Through the front window he watches you laugh with your friends in the food court and smiles to himself, thinking of how you call him Scrooge. It should unnerve him, how quickly seeing you or speaking to you or simply thinking you makes his day better, more hopeful; chases away the shadows that linger in his mind when he's left alone for too long. No, left alone isn't the right word. When he isolates himself.

Jongdae doesn’t really know you, not yet. But already he wants to make all of your dreams come true, he wants to make them real. 

The thought is so sentimental and kind and soft that it brings him up short. He bites the inside of his lip and tries to fight the warm feeling in his chest as he watches you laugh. But as he resumes his work he acknowledges that maybe there was a reason he stayed in Seattle, after all.

The mall is packed during lunch; it’s one of the only days you and your roommates and Hitchcock all work together so you’ve christened it Saturday girl’s lunch time. But Baekhyun and Chanyeol of course crash in, as they always seem to. Loud and raucous and happy. Others from their wide circle of friends drop by to grab slices or to make plans for tonight.

Baekhyun sticks two straws in his nose and makes what are probably very scientifically inaccurate walrus noises. As you laugh so hard you almost snort you can’t help but feel like something is missing. Someone is missing. You look back to the shop, drawn to Jongdae as always.

He works away, resuming his repairs after chasing another customer away with his attitude. You sigh, watching the blonde preppy man carry away his enormous computer, muttering to himself. You rest your foot on the edge of your chair and drop your chin to your knee. From this angle, surrounded by the stark design of the store and the fluorescent lights from above, Jongdae looks like he’s trapped inside of a screen himself.

You bite your lip, debating. He’s made it clear that whatever happened between you at the club isn’t something he will discuss, or repeat. But friendship? Community? You work together five days a week and it wouldn’t kill him to get out of his enclosure once in a while. It’s done you good this month, to be out and about with people. Like you can finally breathe for the first time in a long time. And you decide that it’s high time Jongdae do the same.

Liz and Jane, your roommates, call you ‘determined.’ But they say it in a way that clearly means ‘like a homing missile,’ when you want something. Your nature has served you well; you can cut through the bullshit and figure people out almost instantly. It’s helped you both professionally and personally. Allowed you to know immediately which friendships would last, which ones were worth the effort.

Maybe it’s how Jongdae looks like an island, all alone in the shop. Maybe it’s the large Coke that infused you with far too much caffeine. Maybe it’s your insatiable curiosity. But you can’t keep watching him from afar, not when there’s something you can do about it.

‘I’ll be right back.’ Pulling on your denim jacket, you march over to the store. You lean inside the glass door, holding it open with your shoulder. ‘Hey, you.’

Jongdae looks up at you, confusion tugging his brows together, making him befuddled in the cutest way. You tell yourself to stop thinking of him like that, even if you want to.

He blinks and refocuses on you. ‘Back already?’

‘No, but we’ve got more than enough pizza. Why don’t you join us?’ You grin, making a show of looking around the empty office. ‘It’s finally slowed down, and you deserve a break.’

‘I’m on a deadline with this.’ He gestures to the modem that is scattered around him.

You fold your arms and lean against the door. ‘You can fix that in twenty minutes. I know you.’ He opens his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it. ‘And before you throw another excuse you should know I’m very persuasive when I want to be. I don’t think you have another option.’

Jongdae barks out a laugh, dropping the tools in his hand to the desk with a thud. ‘Determined to drag me from my lair, huh?’ He holds your gaze, his expression filling with something akin to heat. Finally he gives you a rueful smile. ‘You’re not going to give up on this, are you?’

You meet his eyes and raise a brow, smiling with satisfaction. ‘Nope. Absolutely not.’

The certainty on his face turns into sadness, so fast you can’t be sure it was really there. Then he closes off and he’s quiet, more so than normal. ‘It doesn’t come easily to me.’

Wondering what could have changed so quickly you step forward, letting the door close behind you. ‘What, pizza?’

It shakes you how desperately you want to know. To peel back his skull and see inside his brain, just to understand what makes him tick. His history and where his future is headed. That small voice inside you whispers that once you figure it out, it still won’t make you care less about him.

‘Friends.’ He says it on a gasp. Looking at the floor fixedly, avoiding your eyes, he seems haunted.

The silence surrounds you both and he finally meets your focus again, chewing on the inside of his cheek. The pieces start to come together. He’s intelligent, preternaturally so, and so advanced in school you can’t imagine he’s had much experience with people his own age. And now that he’s in his mid-twenties he’s built himself a fortress. Close enough to the rest of the world, but distinctly separate.

Irrationally you want to reach across the space and wrap his hands in yours. Tug him into your growing group of friends and fix the ache in your chest his expression gives you. Not sympathy and certainly not pity, but some sensation that’s like butterflies in your stomach. But- he’s your boss. You’re not his keeper and you don’t think whatever dangerous emotion lives in you is what would help him.

He’s not yours and you don’t have the right to push, much that you want to.

‘Ah,’ you say. ‘I see. Well, more often than not we have Saturday pizza out there. The offer always stands. I’ll leave you be if you want to be alone, but just -’ you swallow and give him a tentative smile. ‘Just know that we’d be happy to have you join us. I’d be. Uhm. Happy if you joined us.’ It comes out in a rush and you groan.

With a shake of your head, an uncharacteristic gesture of uncertainty and embarrassment, you wave at him and push back out the door into the noise of the mall.

It’s a shame you don’t turn back. Or no, he thinks, it’s better this way. Jongdae feels far too much for you to keep it contained behind his normally stony expression.

You seem like the kind of person who would take that moment of openness and pull on it, until he unravels in front of you. Fear tells him you would take everything and when you're gone he'd be even more alone than before, now that he knows what it's like with you here.

Looking out through the glass he watches you rejoin the lively group. Always he’s felt like a science experiment, or some kind of circus exhibit when he was growing up. If he didn’t have his grandfather’s steady support and gentle guidance he surely would have become even more isolated.

With a shake of his head, he attempts to refocus on the project at hand. For some reason it doesn't fill him up like he wants it to, his usual joy and satisfaction is missing when he picks up the screwdriver once more. This is where he thrives. Computers and the internet and coding.

To other people it's a labyrinth, impossible to figure out. A world and a language they can speak and learn with effort and intention and study. But to him it's always been as easy as breathing.

His grandfather took his skills from the military and parlayed them into a business as a prolific handyman. It was the world they shared. A place where Jongdae’s creativity and his intelligence could soar. Anything he wanted to build or make, he could. Coding a rudimentary game to pass the time after school, when he could hear the neighborhood kids playing soccer outside.

It took him many wonderful places that he wouldn't have been able to reach if he was, for lack of a better word, normal. As a child and even in school it was so easy to hide behind his grades and his projects and the pride and hope of the adults around him. But now, at twenty five, there’s nothing to keep him hidden anymore.

When lunch is over you return and join him with a nod. He hopes you don't regret asking. He nearly hopes you'll try again. Maybe next Saturday.

For how confident he feels in some spaces - DJing at Shari's, here in his ‘lair’ - at the thought of joining a group of friends he feels again like a nervous thirteen year old sitting in his first college course. Like everyone around him knew how to do things he couldn’t comprehend.

He keeps his thoughts and his feelings to himself; he’s already shared more than he planned. But you draw him back into conversation easily enough, asking about the afternoons orders to be picked up. You don't shy away from him or give him an angry offended air. Inexplicably you still look at him warmly, openly, and he wants more than he's dared to let himself want in a very, very long time.

July 11th, 1997

He doesn't normally leave the office at lunch, preferring to eat his meals in his back office alone, but today Jongdae braves the food court.

It’s a Friday not a Saturday, but it’s a start. He makes brief, yet friendly, conversation with Chanyeol at the pizza place. The taller man smiles at Jongdae, easily, as though he doesn’t second guess the action. He asks if Jongdae had caught the Mariner's game over the weekend and they talk about how Griffey might finally lead Seattle to a World Series this year.

For once he doesn't feel like going back to the office and burying his head in his work. Jongdae awkwardly pulls out a chair in the cluster of tables between the bookstore and the record store. As he takes a bite of his pizza he hears a familiar laugh. Turning around he sees you through the glass of the bookstore.

You speak to the woman who owns Greyhame Books, standing beside someone he thinks is possibly called Jane. It all seems so… easy for you. Tucking your hair behind your ear you lean against the counter, discussing the stack of books in front of you with your friends.

Jongdae gives a rare laugh to no one but himself.

When he imagined hiring an accountant and administrator for his flourishing business he thought he'd get someone older. A person with experience and a similar level of wanting to be left alone. They could ignore him and he could ignore them, delegating filing and payments and customer questions and not have to think about them again.

An employee was supposed to reclaim the silence and peace that his work used to bring. Technology is so much simpler and predictable than humans and he’d really prefer to cut other people out of the equation entirely.

But you are the opposite of simple, and you absolutely aren’t someone he can ignore. From the moment he recognized you he knew he had to hire you. With your intensity and your impressive resume and the way your mouth pulls to the side when you’re trying not to smirk.

He doesn't regret it. But he feels raw in a way he hasn't allowed himself to in years. Jongdae doesn't let people get close. Not anymore.

'Hey, Jongdae!'

With a pizza slice halfway to his mouth Jongdae spots Junmyeon approaching, waving, a large Starbucks drink in hand.  He wants to turn away and hide in his pizza. He isn't good at this - making friends. For months Junmyeon has asked him to join in their monthly networking events here at the mall, or asked him to get a drink at Flanagan’s after work to chat. Jongdae’s all out of excuses.

He imagines his life as a circuit board. There’s his life now - pieces and wires scattered around him - and there’s the life he could have. If he’s brave and if he tries. He imagines the pieces fitting together and what they might build. He wonders if you might fit in, if you’d want him or let him.

His knee is jiggling and he’s nervous, but he takes a deep breath and waves back. ‘Hey Jun! Want to join me for a bit?’ Jun’s expression is surprised - the man doesn’t know how to keep back any of his emotions. ‘If you have time, I mean. No pressure.’ He stutters, pulse racing and cheeks reddening.

Jun grins and sits down opposite him. ‘Absolutely. About time! I thought you’d turn me down forever,’ he laughs. ‘Thanks again for helping me with that broken radio last month. You’re a pro. So, how’s business?’ He sips his coffee and waits patiently.

They can talk about business, something so easy? Jongdae wants to laugh with relief. Maybe he can do this after all.

Junmyeon is amused.

After ten minutes of talking shop with Jongdae he watches as you and Jane leave the bookstore next to their lunch spot. He’s owned a business two doors down from Jongdae for years, but he’s never seen him smile before. When you pass by it’s like someone flipped on a light switch. Jongdae has always been somewhat quiet, somewhat serious, except when he DJs. Now he sits straighter, his face softens, and his eyes fixate on yours like a magnet.

The two of you claim the other seats at the table, showing off the books you purchased. In between sips of his coffee Junmyeon balances his own flirtation with Jane and observing - okay, spying - on you and Jongdae.

He’s warmed by not just the caffeinated beverage. There’s a soft energy here- It’s a warm summer day and he’s discussing books, one of his all-time favorite topics. His mind whispers the words ‘double date’ and he smiles to himself for a moment before blinking.

“Are you alright?” Jane asks, gently resting her hand on Junmyeon’s wrist on the table.

He blushes and gives her a reassuring nod and asks if she’s read the Octavia Butler book on top of her stack yet. It’s an attempt at distraction and he knows it. But thankfully Jane’s eyes crinkle in the corners when she talks about the author, not pausing or seeming to notice the way he was fantasizing for a beat.

Across from him you and Jongdae are arguing about the merits of Isaac Asmiov. Jongdae is more articulate, more animated, more alive than he’s ever seen him. Gesturing emphatically and saying something about how robots are friends, not foes as you interrupt him by reminding him about Terminator. Neither of you seem to acknowledge the attraction between you. It’s been months since you started working at Chen’s, if Junmyeon remembers correctly.

In his periphery he sees Temptation, the chocolate store, and thinks of how Yixing and his girlfriend met on the job. One of his favorite poems mentions how love mirrors the lover; that everyone falls in love in a way akin to their personality. Yixing, passionate and insatiable and spontaneous, fell for Lavender in minutes and days. He saw what he wanted and after a slight pause to make sure it’s what Lav really wanted, he made the move.

Jongdae is nothing if not the complete opposite. Calculating and reserved and inscrutable.

His potential new friend is falling, if the lingering looks he gives you and the way he’s almost touched your shoulder not once but twice are any indication. But it’s a mystery to Junmyeon if, or when, Jongdae will ever make a move. You aren’t the same kind of romantic as Yixing’s girlfriend, someone playful and open with your emotions. You’re driven and witty and warm in your own way. Clearly you care for Jongdae, but in a quieter sense.

Junmyeon imagines this will be a marathon of love, not a sprint.

Eventually lunch hours end for all of you. There’s clients to see and paperwork to do and as he waves to you and Jane he wonders what will become of you and Jongdae. If you’ll stay as co-workers, always flirting and secretly wondering what might be. Or if either of you will push the other into action. The chess board is laid out, pieces waiting to be moved. It might just be his imagination, but Junmyeon hopes that one of you gets the game going.

He does also, perhaps, focus on you and Jongdae as a way to ignore how his own heart beats a bit faster around Jane. How he can’t stop staring at her dimple when she smiles or the head tilt she gives him when she’s really listening. Like he’s the only person in the world. No, he absolutely doesn’t think about Jane’s feet i n his lap as they both read on the couch in his living room. He doesn’t wonder what it would be like to kiss her or hold her hand. Absolutely not.

Instead he invites Jongdae to the monthly Settlers of Catan night he has with Minseok and some other folks from the mall. Much safer territory than wondering about his own love story and if still waters truly do run deep where he and Jane are concerned.

August 11th, 1997

On a surprisingly rainy yet unsurprisingly dead Monday morning Jongdae forces you away from your insistent attempts to organize his paperwork to the market a few streets over. The quiet bakery on the hill above Pike Place has a view of the misty Sound beyond. He sits close beside you, carefully keeping his knees away, lest he bump yours and you do the same, perhaps letting them linger a moment each time they collide.

It’s nice here, you notice suddenly, as you take the first sip of your coffee. The smell of dark roast and fresh almond scones. The breeze coming in through the open door. The soothing, distant sound of jazz from the overhead speaker. The pleasant warm lighting, far different than the aggressively bland fluorescent kind he chose for Chen's. Everything puts you at ease, wraps around you the way you wish Jongdae’s arms would.  

'This place reminds me of Amsterdam.' You smile, looking down into your cappuccino to avoid Jongdae’s eyes.

‘Have you ever been?’ he asks, voice softer than it normally is.

With a shake of your head you trace the edge of the teal and white ceramic cup in front of you. ‘No, but I’ve seen pictures. I used to love photo books growing up. Atlases and travel guides. It’s always been my favorite section of the library.’

He hums for a moment, considering. 'If you could go anywhere in the world, is that where you'd choose?'

Tucking your hair behind your ears you bite your lip to avoid grinning at him. He’s making you remember long-forgotten parts of yourself. Before school and work became the end point, the be-all end-all that your life was funnelled towards. Back when you imagined exploring every country on the planet. Taking photos and making memories. A long time ago, in the days before you realized how expensive it is to actually be a wanderlust-filled adventurer.

Finally you look at him. Something in his irises makes you swallow; an endless, nameless emotion that lives in him you can never seem to place. Elusive and frustrating and tempting all at once.

‘Yes,’ you admit. Voice dry and heart racing you look back to your coffee in avoidance. ‘It’s my dream to travel there. I’m a bit obsessed with it, really.’

'You? Obsessed?' Jongdae smirks, a boyish grin you want to cover with your own mouth.

You roll your eyes, tracing the handle of your mug. 'Hush. It's such a beautiful city with all the canals and the architecture and history, and the food is to die for. Every quaint European city fantasy in one. What about you, have you done much traveling?'

He shakes his head. ‘Not personally. But - my grandfather went everywhere in Europe, after the war.’ His admission is so quiet you almost miss it. But it’s as if your soul is waiting for every crack in the door to Jongdae you can find, and you don’t pass up the opportunity. ‘What was he like?’

It happens sometimes, when you’re working together. The times there’s no customers around and the mall gets empty and you can’t help but be aware of him. Against your skin and with your hands, eyes feasting on him when the rest of you is forbidden from doing so. In the moments when he isn’t putting on airs of being the tech mogul or the reclusive jerk or the awkward, secretly friendly nerd around Jun or Minseok.

Those times when Jongdae meets your eyes and you see the real him, beneath it all. Wanting and alone and scared. Your breath catches in your throat just as it does now and you long to ask him plainly if he feels the way you do. Being honest with your words and not just your jokes or looks out the corner of your eyes when you catch him watching you too.

But those feel too fragile, too dangerous to utter. So instead you ask him about his family, someone close enough to Jo ngdae’s heart to glimpse the core of him; like a sun during an eclipse you can only look for a moment, lest you get burned.

'My grandfather?’ Brows furrow, the corners of his cat-like lips tilting down for a moment. You nod gently, cupping your drink for something to occupy your hands.

Jongdae looks out at the water for a moment, his mouth tugging to the side as he ponders. ‘You know when you finally solve a puzzle you’ve been working on for ages? Hours of struggling to find the right combination and finally it’s all laid out, perfectly in alignment.’

You nod, trying not to smile and ruin the moment, but softened by him nonetheless. ‘Yeah, I know what you mean.’

When his gaze lands on your hands he pauses, like he’s wondering if the two of you might fit in a similar way. But it’s gone before you can grasp onto the moment. Sadness colors his features then. Not the aching kind that gnaws away like a feral monster, leaving nothing in its wake, but the beautiful, bittersweet sadness of a love greater than grief.

His voice is thick when he next speaks. ‘My grandfather was that person for me. We just - fit. He understood me better than my parents did. More than any of my classmates or the few people I’ve ever gone out with. We didn’t even need to speak.’ Jongdae pauses and taps his fingers on the counter.

You give in and reach for his hand, not to hold it - not yet. But to cover it with your own for a moment of understanding, of comfort.

He smiles at you, the crease between his brows disappearing for a moment. ‘He was fifty one years older than me and he was my best friend.’

‘I’ll bet you miss him quite a lot?’ You realize how incredibly inadequate the sentiment is and shake your head, moving to withdraw your hand. ‘Sorry - that’s - of course you miss him.’

But Jongdae doesn’t let you retreat. With his free hand he holds yours in place. Warmth floods your body from the connection point and you’re unable to take your eyes off him. ‘It’s alright, I know what you mean.’ He traces your thumb with a barely there motion, seemingly without intending to. ‘Thank you.’

‘For what?’ You ask, a bit breathless and unable to mind.

‘For always asking. For always listening.’ He says it simply, as though it’s a novel concept. Perhaps, given what you know of his life, who he is, not many people dare to ask. Or bother to listen.

Soon paperwork and customers and regular life draw you back to Chen’s Electronics. He doesn’t mention the way you reached for him and you don’t either. But when you go to leave that afternoon Jongdae holds out your jean jacket for you to slip on. And when you thank him he gives you the soft, secret grin you’ve learned he saves only for you.

On the way home you think that Amsterdam might be the most beautiful city you can imagine, but that it pales in comparison to a hole-in-the-wall cafe in Seattle, as long as Jongdae is seated beside you.

September 9th, 1997

The summer turns into fall and one Monday evening, seemingly without his noticing, Jongdae realizes that his appointment book is full to bursting.

On Tuesday night he's playing Settlers of Catan with Minseok, Bookworm, Kyungsoo, and Junmyeon. They meet up in the food court after the mall closes at nine, second Tuesday of every month.

Wednesday he has lunch with Jun and some other business owners in the mall for their monthly networking/commiserating 'sesh' as Yixing calls it. That afternoon he's promised to help Minseok install the new upgrades to his store's database software that 'make him want to rip out his hair' in exchange for a few coveted LPs Jongdae's had his eyes on for a 70’s/grunge remix set at Shari's.

Thursday night there’s a L.A. Confidential screening at the theater that Baekhyun talked him into, after their argument about whether or not Russel Crowe could actually act or if he was just handsome.

Saturdays are pizza and raucous laughter to break up the busy weekends full of work and clients and deadlines, followed by long nights of DJ-ing and circling you as if you are a sun, drawing him in with the pull of your gravity. He’s merely a comet attracted by the force you give off and he’s not even upset at the realization.

Sehun, Jongin, and Yixing practically bribed him into joining their 'Sunday morning brunch and biceps' workout group, saying that they need a fourth and everyone else is normally sleeping off their hangovers or works the opening shift.

It’s other people’s names all over his schedule, but what he feels is you. Everywhere, all over him. He knows it’s you. Not intentionally, perhaps. But you opened a door for him with your ease and generosity. One Saturday pizza lunch and somehow he’s gotten to know more people in two months at the mall than he had in the years before combined.

You’d wave him off if he mentioned it or thanked you. With that adorable tilt of your head you would smirk and tell him that all he has to do is give people a chance. That they don’t bite.

Irrationally he wants to do things for you - not just as a friend but in the romantic sense - like buy you flowers or have you by his side at Thursday movie screenings or take you to Amsterdam, just to watch you bloom among the flowers. But that would be… crazy, right? He sits in his favorite armchair unable to focus on the book in front of him and runs agitated hands through his hair.

He’s not your boyfriend or your partner. He’s your boss or your co-worker and possibly your friend. Why does he think of holding your hand and walking along the canals of some foreign city every time you look in his direction?

Why does the once-comforting quiet of his apartment feel more and more empty when you’re not laying on the couch across from him, reading and teasing him? Why does he wake up and wish that someone besides himself filled his bed? Someone with your expressions and your joy and your stubborn insistence.

He briefly makes a mental note to ask Yixing how he ended up dating Lavender before suddenly tossing the book to the floor, standing with a groan.

‘What a ridiculous idea!’ he yells aloud to the empty apartment. Jongdae paces circles in the carpet of his living room and wonders if part of being in love is going slightly insane, if everyone who manages to do so finds the madness enjoyable or if love is simply folie à deux?

He looks at his calendar, spread open on his grandfather’s old, wooden desk and tries to comprehend how his life could be so different one year to the next. Like he’s grasping at straws or wisps of air. Aside from work and his grandfather and music, what did he have before? The occasional alumni event or guest lecture at his alma maters?

For a minute his chest feels too full to breathe, unable to let in anything more. Panic tugs at him for a second. It’s too much, all at once - too many people and too many events. Too many opportunities to mess up and these people? He can’t sever his life completely like he did from Julian and his friends. They're so connected to this space he's made his business in. What will happen when he inevitably falls out of favor with them?

He imagines himself shunned and the idea hurts worse than before. Back then he had chosen isolation; to have it thrust unwillingly upon him, unasked, is too much to comprehend.

Once he walked naively into friendship, believing it was easy and that it would last. That there was no rug that would be unceremoniously swept out from under him. But people change, faster than he can believe.

Jongdae sits on the floor, his pajama pants brushing his crossed legs, and forces himself to steady his breathing. These people are not his old friends at Microsoft, he reminds himself. Nor are they the kids in school who teased him, or his classmates in college who resented him or treated him like an annoyance.

Like he’s always practiced, he turns to facts to calm his mind. He’s safe - the apartment is his and he has plenty of money. Not just from his business but from his grandfather’s life insurance. If he wanted to leave - if he was forced to, he thinks he could do it. But something within him howls at the idea of leaving what he has now.

For the first time in ages he has ideas, plans, and dreams for what to do with his life. Now he has people he cares about, people who he trusts to be kind rather than fearing they’ll betray or leave him. You’re at the center of it, if you let him. Determination takes hold of him and doesn’t let go. After a few moments his panic subsides, washed away by the bright promise of a future he’s never dared to imagine before now. Before you.

September 13th, 1997

By the end of your second drink you contemplate being the one to risk it all and ask Jongdae out.

In the months you’ve worked together you stopped seeing him as a challenge and started viewing him instead as the push to your pull. The yang to your yin. The - you sip on your rum and coke and get lost in the tug of his brows and the set of his lips as he spins rather than finding another apt metaphor.

The first time you met him you knew there was something underneath his hard exterior, but you had no idea how correct you’d be proven. Somehow he walks the tightrope between being harsh and being softer than you thought possible. But rather than turn you off you find you’re drawn to his bewildering mix of wry humor, nerdy fixations, and raw emotion. It unlocks all the jagged parts of you that you try to keep so nicely pressed together.

For someone who has been deemed too much to handle finding a man who seems to do it with ease is staggering. He loves your bossy, charismatic nature and your ideas about new things to try at the store. He listens intently when you rattle off obscure facts about your favorite books and movies. He sees your dreams of traveling, of being part of community here, as a complement, not a detriment to your professional career.

A voice startles you. “So when are you going to jump his bones?” Baekhyun is the kind of puppy dog, glowing cheeks, wide-eyed endearing drunk you wish you could hate.

He waggles his brows at you and you snort, shoving him away with your shoulder. “I have zero idea what you’re talking about.”

You weave your way around the perimeter of the dance floor, trying and failing to not fixate on Jongdae with every step.

“Come on. Admit it. You’ve got a thing for the DJ.” His mouth tugs into a smug grin and you groan. “And word on the street is he wants you too.”

“He’s my boss.” The last of your drink burns your throat and you belly up to the bar to order another. “Get real.”

Always a hoe for gossip, Baekhyun leans one elbow against the bar and drops his chin into his hand to watch you. Rather than speak and risk your wrath again he merely looks between you and Jongdae, waiting.

You pride yourself on not giving into temptation for all of ten seconds and then blurt out - “What are you doing?”

Baekhyun presses his lips together to suppress a grin. He raises a finger and holds it up. “You’ll see.”

The bartender is tied up with a group at the far end so you sigh and turn, resting your back against the bar top. With folded arms you observe the club. “We’re about to be abducted by aliens? Jongin’s going to breakdance? Minseok and Bookworm are -”

He clicks his tongue. “So impatient. You two really are a match made in heaven.”

“Me and Jongdae?” If you weren’t already buzzed you’d deny it more. But the permission to speak openly about your feelings for the DJ is too tempting. “You think so?”

Before he can tease you again a motion up ahead catches your focus. Jongdae looks up without tilting his head. His eyes cut to the left, to the two overflowing booths that are filled with the usual crew from the Exodus Mall. With amusement you follow his eye line as he scans the dance floor, looking for something. He never breaks the movement of his hands, spinning the vinyl and working the controls.

Finally his focus lands on you and Baekhyun at the bar. Jongdae’s eyes widen and that unreadable expression settles on his features, no emotion escaping. Your heart picks up, cheeks heating with awareness. There’s nothing to do but hold his gaze for long seconds while the club pulses with life around you. Isolated and together, even across the room.

And then Baekhyun ruins it.

With a comically large wave he smiles at Jongdae. The motion breaks Jongdae’s focus and he rolls his eyes, shaking his head at his friend’s ridiculousness. A smile tugs at his lips and he gives you a look of commiseration and you laugh, reaching over to ruffle Baekhyun’s blonde hair.

The song changes and Jongdae finally looks away. A second later the bartender appears, asking you for your next order. Baekhyun waits patiently beside you, arms folded against the bar, his smugness a tangible thing in the air between you two.

You bite your lip and look at yourself in the mirror behind the bar, visible between the clear shelves of liqueurs and syrups. Could he feel the same way? Does Jongdae imagine holding you, kissing you, being with you the same way you do with him in your unguarded moments?

The two of you already do so much together - work five days a week. Meals alone or with friends. Nights here, separate but still united in the bubble of the dance club. It strikes you just how thin the line is between friends and coworkers and … something more. A four-letter sinful word that starts with L and implies dangerous things like hands touching hands followed by lips and skin and teeth. A different four-letter word full of softness and commitment that has no place being in your mind at the same time as Jongdae’s name.

A hand rests gently on your shoulder. “I told you,” Baek says sincerely. He disappears after waggling his damned eyebrows one more time and leaves you at the bar, wondering.

Half of you wants to confess to him out of genuine affection and desire for connection; you can’t escape the way he makes you long to be reckless and daring and bold and romantic in the kind of grand gesture sense that you’d have rolled your eyes at before you met him. The delicate balance makes your palms sweat and your glass shake slightly as you raise it to your lips. From nerves or excitement or a mix of the two.

You could make the first move, but the logical half of your mind wins out. Instead you swallow your drink in three gulps and head over to the DJ booth to talk to him and nothing more. Close enough to be comforted by his nearness but keeping your desire closeted behind your fear. Tonight that’s all you can manage.

Passing by Yixing and Lavender dancing is a reminder of all the good love can bring. Yixing’s hands holding her close, her arms folded around his neck and their foreheads together. Intimate words are shared that aren’t meant for your ears, even if you could hear them over the sound of the music.

But just beyond is Baekhyun and Hitch. She laughs and dances out of his way as he tries to tickle her. They’re obviously in love to anyone who watches, so why haven’t they admitted it and had a go at being together? Maybe it’s for the best, you wonder. If trying and failing and ruining what you have it worse than never trying at all.

Before you can wander too far down the road of doubt and consequences you remember how it felt to have Jongdae’s hand on top of yours. The thought of tomorrow and the days after disappear altogether when you feel Jongdae’s eyes on you once more, drawing you closer to him, whether he knows his effect on you or not. When you reach the booth you decide to stop thinking in general, and let yourself feel instead.

Saturday night and he's in his element. In the booth, far away from the rest of the crowd but still a part of it. Adrenaline in his veins. Music is Jongdae’s therapy. An alter ego much like the comic book characters he read about growing up. It's the skin he can put on when he's tired of being himself. A place where he can set down the baggage of his identity for a night and get lost in the beats.

He closes his eyes, savoring the pattern of the vinyl beneath his fingertips.

Suddenly, he feels you. Of course you're here. He's never free from you, he thinks with a rueful smile. First you invaded this place, his escape and his temple. Then you wormed your way into his business as though you always belonged there. Now you're occupying his senses the way you occupy his thoughts at all hours.

For a beat he admires you, standing at the bar rolling your eyes while Baekhyun waves dramatically. He drinks you in with a last look at your fabulous legs before reluctantly turning back to switching out one album for the next. Lately you’ve taken to joining him for a bit while he spins and he hopes that once again you’ll come up to the booth tonight.

He's not a patient man, or a subtle one. If he wanted to be rid of you, you'd be gone. Severed with the kind of brutal finality he showed to anyone from his time after M.I.T. There are no second chances as far as he's concerned. But still, you remain. Infuriating, exhilarating. Never far from his consciousness.

'You look like you're having a good time!'

Sooner than expected your voice breaks his trance and he lifts his eyes to look at you. His heart thumps painfully in his chest and he swallows harshly. He doesn't know how you do it - how you effortlessly change to match your surroundings.

One minute you're his office manager, polite and respectful and skilled. Already he sees the business taking shape, becoming more cohesive and smooth beneath your talented mind and heart. And your feisty insistence that he upgrade and finesse his marketing and finally finish putting together a website for Chen’s.

The next minute you're leaning over the edge of the booth, chest coming forward and revealing your neckline. The red is fitting on you. It brings out the natural flush in your cheeks and makes you look perpetually alive. He feels stagnant by comparison, a man of stone who remains unchanging while the world passes him by.

The tumble of hair across your shoulders and the delight in your eyes are so beautiful he wants to reach for you. To reach for more, be more than who he has been - afraid and alone. Bitterness lives in his heart, swatting away anyone who gets too close. But here you are, knocking once more on the door of his being.

He finds his voice, his hands thankfully moving on muscle memory as he drops in the next remix. 'It's good energy tonight,' he fumbles. 'I love this song.' You nod in agreement.

It’s easy, being with you. Together you talk about work and the music he plays and your group of friends. Chanyeol and Bijoux, who finally got together again after what seems like months of back and forth. Bets on how long Minseok will wait before he proposes to Bookworm, now that they’re an official item. Joking about Baekhyun and Hitch like always.

He shows off for you, just a little. Spins 'Scream' by Michael and Janet jackson with a bit more pizazz than usual. It strikes him as amusing how much he always hated being watched before this. Not that many people pay particular attention to him as a DJ, but he thinks he might like the way it feels to be watched by you.

He wants to watch you, too, for as long as you let him. He already can’t take his eyes off you. No matter how much that idea might terrify him. When he drops the next mix and the crowd cheers at ‘Tubthumping’ he gives you a rare broad smile and it's like being punched in the chest when you return it with an unexpectedly shy one of your own.

Jongdae almost invites you into the booth. He sees it as though it were one of the romantic comedies that are so popular right now. You would take your place in front of him. He'd get to rest his hand on top of yours, guiding your movements. Maybe as you got the hang of it he would slide them to hold your hips, keeping your back to his chest as his mouth finds your neck.

Liz invites you to dance and Jongdae wipes the probably awed look off his face with effort. He needs some cold water, immediately.

Friday September 19th

Jongdae is upset about something. It’s not so much that you now seem to be able to pick up his moods with ease, which is true, but the fact that he is nearly tearing his hair out. A piece of paper sits in front of him on the desk but it’s too far away for you to read.

By the time he groans for the fifth time you finally speak up. ‘Are you alright?’

His head jerks up and his eyes are tired when they meet yours. Not ‘it’s been a long week’ tired, but something sad in his expression that makes him look fragile and younger than his years.

For a moment he shakes his head. Then he picks up the paper and waves it in the air, opening and closing his mouth in rapid succession. The confusion on his normally self-assured face would be comical if it wasn’t such an obviously distressing situation. Finally he drops the paper and leans back in his chair, rubbing a hand along his jaw.

‘I just got word that they’re demolishing the apartment building I live in. I have to move by November 1st.’

Instantly you want to hug him or hold his hand. ‘Your grandfather’s apartment?’

Jongdae nods. ‘They’re tearing it down so they can put in some luxury condos. Yet another classic neighborhood about to be wiped out in the name of progress.’ He sighs, looking at the ceiling to compose himself. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be so-’

‘No, it’s -’ you start, unsure of your destination. ‘It’s an important place. And it’s your home. Don’t apologize for being pissed off about it.’

He nods, taken aback. ‘Exactly. It’s where I grew up. I’ve also never had to look for an apartment or move, either. So this will be dreadful.’

You bite the inside of your cheek. The offer to help practically leaps from your mouth and you hold it close for a moment, making sure you don’t rush into something that’s out of your depth. But as always your logic overrules your fear.

‘I could help, if you like?’ He’s just your boss slash co-worker. It’s innocent. It’s harmless, right? ‘I’ve moved so often with school and everything. I know my way around the city.’

In the ensuing pause Jongdae’s solemnity returns, his mouth and the lines of his face don’t give away any emotion. But, as always, he holds you in place with his expression. And his eyes have that fire within that he seems to only show to you. ‘That would be wonderful, thank you.’

You nod, case closed. Turning back to your computer you lie to yourself further, pretending not to notice how his voice lowered. As though he knew you weren’t just offering for help with his living situation. But something more raw and painful that he isn’t prepared to hold on his own just yet.

For how picky you thought you were about apartments, Jongdae has you beat by a mile. Student housing accustomed you to wonky flooring and cramped kitchens and the charming yet ancient windows on many older Seattle homes. But his grandfather’s gorgeous pre-war unit had made Jongdae’s tastes quite particular.

On Tuesdays and on weekends you pulled up listings and showed Jongdae around the city by way of it’s apartments, condos, and houses. He enjoyed the nature surrounding Greenlake, the affordable houses north of UW in Ravenna, and the vibe of Ballard and Fremont. But he ruled anything north of 520 out quickly as ‘too far from the store.’ The luxury of walking to work on nicer days was something he wasn’t willing to part with.

The same unfortunately ruled out a townhouse in Alki that you had salivated over, a block from the beach. Pioneer Square had some great lofts that would have been perfect for a music-lover like Jongdae, but he vetoed those as well. Along with all the trendy industrial lofts near the stadiums, claiming he hated all the construction going on nearby.

It should have been frustrating, to spend endless hours watching him nix perfectly wonderful places. In Queen Anne he hated the hills. Westlake he disliked the mall. Madrona, Leschi, Montlake, Magnolia, and Lake Union all came close but still he shook his head and said ‘thanks, but no thanks’ to landlord after landlord.

It should have driven you mad, but all it did was make you like him more.

Falling in love with Jongdae isn’t what you had planned. But from the first night you saw him at the club some part of you knew it was inevitable, the way the rain in autumn starts off as a light drizzle and before you know it becomes a torrential downpour, blanketing the city and saturating every exposed corner.

He always brought you coffee and insisted on buying breakfast or lunch. He always picked you up, right on time. Held doors and made sure he didn’t walk too fast and did the thing where his arm hovered over your back when the two of you were in crowded spaces. Not touching, but close enough you could feel him protecting you. On anyone else you would have absolutely hated that, but of course from him, you craved it.

Day after day you listened to music in his car as the two of you drove around little neighborhoods hoping to find something, complaining about how tight and ridiculous the parking situation always is. Joking about your friends or the news or the latest books you’re reading. They hardly felt like dates. No, they felt like something even more insidious. Like being in a relationship with him. Easy and warm and friendly and the kind of thing you could get used to.

But eventually it had to end, before it seemed like either of you were ready.

On a surprisingly warm Tuesday in October the two of you walk into a place that no one could object to. The building is in south Capitol Hill, close to Cal Anderson and only a fifteen or twenty minute walk from the mall. It’s designed in the classic Victorian style of the neighborhood, but was completed just three years ago. Small pane windows and a fireplace with a carved mantle and dark spires on the roof, all with brand new insulation and appliances.

Sunlight floods the corner unit on the top floor and you gasped as soon as the door opened. Jongdae stands beside you as the landlord goes over the details of the square footage and the building amenities, but neither of you are listening anymore.

‘What do you think?’ he asks softly. The five-story building sits on a slight hill and overlooks the rest of downtown, with a partial water view around the tall downtown skyscrapers.

‘I think it’s as close to perfect as you’re going to get.’

He moves closer and rests his palms on the window sill, looking around for a moment before turning his head to watch you. ‘Good.’

After a long pause Jongdae pushes off the windows and politely interrupts the landlord, who is currently opening every single cabinet in the kitchen and giving a detailed run down of his wife’s favorite tupperware, asking about the deposit. The way he phrased it along with the attentive way he waited for your approval makes you wonder if he wasn’t just picking this apartment for himself.

Imagining yourself there scares you. If he was seeking your opinion… surely he would be hoping you’d come over? Neither of you have spoken a word about the bizarre yet undeniable attraction you have, but that hardly forms the basis of a relationship. A boyfriend who wanted to be sure you liked his new place would be one thing, but your friend and co-worker who has never admitted to even liking you is quite another.

You lean against the edge of the window and run a finger along the ledge. A small part of you whispers that you’re supposed to be doing something else, eventually. You won’t work at Chen’s forever, but it wasn’t meant to be this hard to leave. It’s just a stop on the way to your final destination. So why do you want to get off the train altogether and make a home here?

Would it be so terrible, to be with him? It’s been a fantasy for so long that imagining real life with him makes you suck in a breath as though you’ve been punched in the gut. It could be a fresh start for you both. The end of one adventure and the beginning of a new one. You remind yourself that being in love doesn’t mean you can’t travel or change the world. Being with Jongdae would hopefully only encourage your dreams, not stifle them.

As they discuss deposit and applications and timelines for moving into the apartment you wander into the other rooms.

The bathroom has a large tub and dual sinks. You can only imagine what your expression must be like right now, given your swirling emotions, and avoid the mirror altogether. The second bedroom is more like a cozy office, narrow enough for a desk and a couch and perhaps some bookshelves. In the bedroom you hesitate at the doorway, reaching up to play with the pendant of your necklace.

Windows run along both sides, meeting in a corner. You think of plants lining the wide ledges and going to sleep with the setting westward sun and how short of a walk it would be to get breakfast from your favorite bagel shop that’s just a block away. It’s close to the mall and the club. It’s truly perfect.

As you watch cars pass and people walk by down below you space out, the image blurring and becoming Jongdae on a bed in this room, leaning back against the pillows with a book in his lap. Smiling at you and pulling you close since he knows you refuse to get up earlier than you have to on your days off.

Inexplicably you want to cry and you huff out a laugh, squeezing your eyes tightly only to find that they’re damp. It’s not anger that the vision inspires in you or even sadness. It’s frustration and amusement that war inside you as you think about how you fell in love with him without your consent. Rational thinking should have stopped this long ago, but all you can think as you stand there is how nice it is to be with him. And how you wouldn’t mind being with him for a long while.

The only thing that helps ease the tension in your chest is how he looks at you on the drive back to your place. You fill the time with discussions of moving trucks and hiring a company to help with the heavy lifting, but you’re both clearly distracted by other thoughts. He pulls his car up to your apartment and you try to avoid looking at him as you say goodbye, but he briefly rests his hand on your knee to get your attention.

Your hand stops in its motion to grab your bag and ends up nearly on top of his, but you make no movement to break the contact. ‘Thank you,’ he says softly. ‘I mean it.’ Jongdae turns his hand and holds yours, giving it a quick squeeze and looking like he never wants to let go.

October 12th, 1997

You’re eating cheesy bread at Barada with Hitch, but today she’s different - evasive and nervous in a strange way. 'So I - uhh. I have news,' she finally says. She sips her drink and looks at the table rather than at you. 'I don't know if I should tell you though.'

Pausing in your chewing you raise a brow. 'You can tell me anything, you know that.'

She awkwardly runs a hand along her neck. 'No I know. I just -' she huffs out a breath and blows her hair off her forehead..

'You and Baekhyun finally had sex and you're pregnant?' You smirk at her as she chokes on her soda. 'Come on, just spit it out.'

She waves and hand and very quickly says - 'There's a project manager position open in the gaming division. Some new big thing and they're looking for an upstart to head up operations.'

You frown and tear off another slide of bread, not understanding her odd behavior at all. 'Okay… and you're thinking what, thinking of applying?'

'No, you dork. I'm thinking you should apply.' She tilts her head like she assumed your reaction would be more immediate. 'You wanted me to keep an eye out for you, right? I didn't want to say anything since - '

'Since?' you ask, both afraid of what she'll say and dying to know. Terrified it will have to do with Jongdae and the swirling mess of feelings you have for him.

It’s her turn to be wry. 'Since you and Jongdae have been attached at the hip.'

'Really?' You stall, taking an enormous bite.

Hitch tosses a balled-up napkin at you. 'Yes. When I met you in college I thought 'there goes the most intense person I've ever met.’ And then I met Jongdae after he opened Chen’s and he gave you a run for your money.' She dusts off her hands. 'You both could be making millions someday. Taking over countries or saving the world or something. We all know it. I don't know, I didn’t want to mention this because together you guys seem happier. Softer? Something like that..'

'And you think me getting a job there would ruin that?' Her words mirror your fears exactly and your stomach drops.

'It's taken me years to get Jongdae to even look at me after I told him where I worked. He hates Microsoft. With good reason, from what you've implied. I'm sure you could make it work, but trust me when I say if you get swept up into that upper management spiral, we probably won't see you again.'

'I won't completely abandon you guys just because I get a new job.' But doubt whispers in your mind. The long hours and the endless meetings and the extra work to always be the best, to always be ahead. 'Okay fine, I see your point. I still have to try, right? I should at least apply.'

She rests her hand over yours where you have your napkin in a death grip on the table. 'You don't have to do anything, babe. We'll always be here for you even if you become a tech mogul overnight. But will it make you happy? Whatever comes next... do it for yourself, okay? Not just cause you think you should.'

You smile and hold her hand for a moment, wrinkling your nose. 'Thank you, Hitch. I needed that. What about you? You said you were going to apply for that transfer to the NYC office, are you still considering it?'

She blows out a deep breath and pulls her hand back, dropping her forehead to it for a moment. 'God, I don't know. My whole life is here. And I'd have to leave the theater.' She rests her chin on her palm and looks up at you with a dramatic frown. 'My friends are all here. My family. I love where I'm at, but I know that something eventually has to change.'

'Baekhyun?' You grin at her, wondering if the move might finally force them to admit their feelings.

Hitch straightens and looks across the food court to the movie theater. 'Yeah, something like that.' She gives you a dramatic waggle of her brow. 'Jongdae?'

You groan and fold your arms, sinking lower into your seat. Even your roommates ask about him now. Everyone can surely see how you light up around him. The way you gravitate towards the DJ booth on club nights like a moth to a flame. The way you draw him into conversations and brag about him. It should be forbidden territory, as untouchable and unreadable as he is. Not to mention he's your boss.

But worst of all he still hasn't said anything about it, nothing more than the occasional flirtatious comment or lingering look. Even after all your time together and the way he looked at you in the new apartment. For all you know he sees you as a very stubborn employee who happens to force your way into things.

You cover your face with your hands and sigh. 'Something like that.'

Hitchcock stands and takes your shared tray of dishes to the bus station with a throaty laugh. 'That's what I thought.'

November 1st, 1997

Jongdae is frantically packing up more of his bookshelf when the doorbell rings. He smiles on instinct. It's not something he can help anymore, not when he knows it's you on the other side. Right at nine in the morning, just when you promised the movers would be here. With a last look around his living room at the organized chaos he wipes his hands on his sweatpants and stands.

It surprised him how quickly you agreed to help with - well, everything, really.

When he told you about his move he didn’t expect anything would come of it. It's his problem, not yours. He didn't imagine for a moment you'd give the announcement more attention than a sympathetic word or two. But you stepped to his side. Put up with his grouchy persistence in believing that there's no place in the world, let alone in Seattle, that would be as amazing as this apartment. As it always seems with you, he found himself proven wrong.

You didn't let him wallow and guided him with your decisiveness through the checklist of everything he'd need to do. A few months ago he would have waved you off. Decided you were being bossy or nosy and turned down the help with a cold shoulder. 

But now he wants you around for everything and the thought makes him pause with his hand on the doorknob.

He made sure you like his new apartment too because - when he isn't expecting it he imagines you there. Not just as his co-worker or employee or even as his friend. As someone more permanent. Lasting. It's not that he needs you to run his life for him, he's perfectly capable of doing things on his own. It's just that he loves how you barge your way into his world and refuse to let him be alone.

Jongdae doesn't know how yet, but he wants to show you how he feels in return. It's like trying to run with a blindfold on, but he desperately hopes that he can figure out how to care about you in the way you deserve. Bringing you coffee and asking about your day and giving you all the freedom you want at work are a start, but they barely scratch the surface of how much he feels for you.

He's got one idea. A big one. An insane one, that you'll probably call him nuts for suggesting. If he ever gets up the nerve someday.

The buzzer sounds again and he shakes himself out of it. Finally he pulls it open and is greeted by your smiling face in the morning gray light. Hair pulled back in a ponytail and dressed in a long black shirt and faded overalls. He leans against the doorframe, wondering if he's ever seen anything more beautiful than you on his doorstep.

'So, I have a surprise,' you start. With a free hand you nervously brush your hair behind your ear. It's so unlike you that he immediately wonders if something is wrong.

'What is it?'

Before you can answer, noise in the parking lot draws his focus. His front door faces the open-air walkway that leads to the stairs down to the parking lot. He expected a moving truck and several buff men in logoed shirts. Instead it's a scrappy group of your friends - his friends now, he supposes - looking tired but ready to help.

Junmyeon and Jane drink coffee and pull furniture dollys and heavy blankets out of a Uhaul truck. Liz and Jongin are leaning against the cab of Sehun's car and laugh at him as he and Yixing sleep peacefully in the backseat. Chanyeol and his girlfriend are paused on the landing below making out, a tape gun in each of their hands. Another car catches a break in the flow of traffic and pulls into one of the guest spaces. Minseok and Bookworm step out and yawn, tying sweatshirts around their waists.

Jongdae repeats his question. Or at least he tries to, but emotion catches his throat and all he can do is stare at you with a mix of surprise and what he's sure is a very naked expression of affection.

'How did you do this?' he asks when he can finally breathe again.

You tilt your head and grin at him, pride making you radiant even in the dull mist of the morning. 'Is this okay?' For a moment you look worried, tucking your hands in the pockets of your overalls and taking a step back.

'I know I said I'd hire the movers, but I thought this might be better? I didn't think everyone would be here, especially after the Halloween party last night. Soo and Sunshine are working, but I think - wait,' you turn and yell down to the group in the lot. 'Has anyone heard from Baek and Hitch?'

Chanyeol reluctantly pulls away from his girlfriend and replies. 'Yeah, he messaged me at the ass-crack of dawn. He said he and Hitch are fine, but they won't be able to make it until later.'

With a curious look you thank Chanyeol and turn back to Jongdae. 'Okay, so almost everyone came.'

'It's because you're incredible,' he agrees, heart warm and in awe of you. Stepping back, he shoves the door stop in with his foot to prop it open and gestures for you to come in.

He doesn't get two steps before your hand finds his bicep, stopping him. 'No, I'm just absolutely amazing at organizing things,' you laugh. ‘But they didn't just come for me Jongdae, they came because they're your friends. They wanted to help.'

The intensity in your voice makes him pause. Like you're trying to say far more than your words. He gets lost for a moment in your beautiful eyes and swallows harshly. His past, the negative parts, haven't come up much - his failed first business, the trail of broken friendships he's left behind him, the ensuing guard he's had up since - but you've paid far more attention than he realized.

He doesn't miss the meaning behind your words, or the look in your eyes; what you're asking of him. To trust you, to trust them. To release his death grip on the walls he keeps up to protect himself. But no matter how determined you are he knows he has to be the one to dismantle them. His heart is nervous and he instead focuses on your hand on his arm.

For a beat he wants to kiss you, then and there with almost all of his and your friends just outside. Instead he lets his actions speak when his mouth isn't able to and pulls you into a hug. You freeze for a moment, stiff with surprise. But after a moment it melts away and you hold him back, wrapping your arms around his waist. His head spins when you rest your forehead against his shoulder, unable to process the fact that you’re in his arms in reality, not just his dreams.

'You're the most amazing person,' he murmurs against your hair.

The sound of loud voices and thumping of boots on stairs make him pull back. You give him another smile, warmer and softer this time. Something that's private for him only. 'I know.'

He barks out a laugh as Sehun and Jongin come in through the doorway. 'Let's do this!' Sehun calls, clapping his hands together.

'We promise we won't steal anything,' Jongin jokes, looking around Jongdae's place with obvious fascination.

Bijoux organizes the packing party while Chanyeol grabs Jongdae's keys so he and Sehun can take the first load of boxes over to the new place while Junmyeon, Jongin, and Jongdae load up the bigger furniture pieces into the Uhaul. Jongdae lets out a rusty laugh as Junmyeon dubs them ‘the J squad.’ You work around them, collecting all the random trinkets and knicknacks that have escaped other boxes.

He closed Chen’s today to hopefully knock this entire project out in one swoop. Ripping it off like a Bandaid. After the first big load everyone splits up into teams. Sehun and Yixing pack and load the rest of the boxes and smaller items into the cars. Jongin, who is absolutely not trusted around breakable items, goes with Junmyeon to return the Uhaul to the rental shop and pick up lunch and drinks for everyone with the cash Jongdae insisted they take. 

And Minseok leads everyone else on a cleaning checklist he’s created with military precision. It's been so long Jongdae doesn't even know if he has a damage deposit. His grandfather took excellent care of the place and he kept it up in his absence, so he hopes it's not too much work to tidy.

Yixing’s boombox keeps up a steady flow of music throughout the morning and lunch time. With everyone’s help, and of course with the added fuel from the pizza and beverages, things are just wrapping up at the old place. You stay behind with Jongdae to take a last look around and turn in the keys, forcing him to take a few photos in the space to remember it.

‘This is it, I guess,’ he says, holding out the key and laying it on the kitchen counter with a small metallic sound.

‘How do you feel?’ You lean your hip against the fridge and drink from a water bottle.

Sunset over Lake Union is his favorite time of day and it’s hard to stand the thought of missing out on a last one. It’s barely two in the afternoon and it’s hours until golden hour. Rather than lie he simply says the truth. ‘I wish I could see the sun go down one last time.’

You come and stand next to him, close enough he can smell the light scent of your perfume and see the flush of your chest from the day’s exertion. ‘We can wait.’

He thinks of everyone at his new place, unloading boxes. ‘But everyone-’

‘Jongdae,’ you start. ‘They’ll be fine. You know Sehun has probably fallen asleep on your couch already. Baek and Hitch and the openers from Barada will be heading over soon. Some people have to head out for closing shifts but it’s already been decided that we’re doing movie night and Chinese take out tonight at your new place.’

‘Oh really?’ He presses his lips together to try not to laugh.

‘I don’t think you have much of a choice,’ you tease. ‘Trust me, they’ll be fine for another few hours.’

‘Alright then,’ he says after a pause.

The two of you sit on the bare hardwood floors and talk until the sun finally sets, just before five pm. He doesn’t yell his feelings for you at full volume like he wishes he could. He doesn’t dance with you or kiss you slowly in the empty apartment, there’s far too many emotions in his heart today to try and cope with more. But after he locks up and leaves the keys behind he does take your hand to help you into the car. And he does hold it for far longer than necessary before pulling back to shut the door. 

It’s not much, but like his new apartment it’s the start of something.

November 3rd, 1997

You’ve got to tell Jongdae now, but nerves eat away at you and your resolve lessens minute by minute. Since the move he’s been warmer, more open, and you don’t want to ruin that. But you can’t keep this from him any longer.

Applying at Microsoft was supposed to be a long shot, a shot in the dark, or some other kind of shot that never meant to lead anywhere. But still it’s one you took and one that ended up paying off way faster and more successfully than you’d planned. After two interviews last week you sit with a job offer on your answering machine back home and a choice to make.

They need your decision by tomorrow and as Monday winds into early afternoon your deadline approaches. You bite your lip and vacillate wildly between thoughts. On the one hand this could be a good thing - if you’re no longer working at the same place, there’s nothing stopping the two of you from being together, right?

But what if Jongdae can’t see past his hurt and freaks out, assuming you’re leaving him like everyone else has? Or worse, what if he never cared about you that way at all?

Your stomach drops at the thought of walking out of here into your dream job, but feeling empty, leaving behind someone who has come to mean so much to you.

Your roommates Liz and Jane, Hitch, hell even Baekhyun weaseled the truth out of you at Shari’s on Saturday. Stone cold sober and still you let out everything to him sitting in your group’s favorite booth. About how you might in fact love Jongdae and how badly you want this opportunity, how utterly terrifying and exhilarating change can be simultaneously.

None of them told you to choose one way or the other. They didn’t say ‘take the job’ or ‘turn down the job,’ they all said that the decision is one only you can make and that they’d support you no matter what you picked. And maybe each time you cried a little and all of them were good enough friends to just hug you and not mention it.

But all of them told you one thing that now sits lodged in your throat. Whatever else happens, you both deserve to know. Jongdae deserves the truth about what you’re considering, and you deserve to finally know once and for all how he feels about you and what he wants.

After he locks the doors and starts cleaning up, you rise, holding your hands behind your back so tightly your knuckles are most assuredly white. ‘Hey, can we talk for a minute?’

Jongdae nods. ‘Of course. I’ve got something I wanted to discuss with you as well, actually. But you go first.’ He folds his arms and leans against his desk, giving you that affectionate close-lipped smile of his. You desperately hope what you’re about to say doesn’t wipe it off his face.

Not one to beat around the bush you dive in. ‘I applied for another job.’ The words sound blunt and harsh. You swallow and try again, hating how his brow furrows in confusion. ‘Not because I don’t like it here. But Hitch told me about an opening and it sounded - sounds perfect for what I want to do in the long run. It’s on the new gaming system division… at Microsoft.’

He doesn’t say anything for a long pause. Instead of meeting your eyes his have dropped to the ground and you wish you could reach out and touch him. Anything to make sure he hears you, understands you. But a whisper of fear makes you keep quiet, worrying the connection you had wasn’t meant to last, if something so trivial could break it.

‘I thought you were happy here,’ he says finally.

You hold your hands out in front of you, palms up in a gesture of entreaty. ‘I do, Jongdae. It’s not that at all. I thought this might - be good for us. If we’re not working together, then -’

When he finally looks up his gaze is distant, his mouth a thin line. The shutters have fallen over his face. ‘By going to work at the one place I despise?’

Anger makes your skin hot and you fold your arms as well, in defiance. ‘But you talk to Hitch and Baekhyun? They haven’t turned into the devil incarnate yet.’

He gives a quick, harsh shrug. ‘I like them both, sure. But being friends is one thing. This is quite another.’

It’s almost a declaration, yet so far from how you dreamed this moment might go. ‘What are you saying, Jongdae?’ You need to hear it. After so many weeks of trying you need him to at least do you the courtesy of speaking it out loud.

‘You know how I feel about you.’ There’s hope in his eyes. But it’s so buried amongst hurt and suspicion it’s not even close to reassuring. ‘I want you to stay. Here.’ With me, he doesn’t say, but you feel it.

Nothing drives you more up the wall than being told what to do. His words fall against your own shield and the plea within goes unnoticed. ‘Would you really shut me off if I took this job? Does hating them mean more than wanting what’s best for me?’ You finally step forward, reaching a hand for his arm.

‘I’ve supported you in everything,’ you start, unable to stop now that you’ve started. ‘In finding community here. In your move. Even in the business, who was the one who pushed you to keep growing? I don’t intend to stop being there for you, but I need you to support me in this. Please.’

He just watches you, not saying a word. The clock on the wall ticks loudly in the silence. People outside the glass doors go about their day, shopping or getting an early dinner, unaware of the standoff taking place merely feet from them. You wonder what it would take to make his guard truly ever come down.

With how quickly it snapped back into place you feel tired all the way down to your bones. Maybe it will never be enough, even if you did stay here forever.

‘I’ll pay out your PTO in these next two weeks,’ he says softly. ‘No need to come back into the office. If that works for you?’ His last statement is thrown on as a hasty addendum. Like he’d realized how harsh it sounded and he wanted to dull the sting. It’s a sliver of kindness, a glimpse at the man he almost allowed himself to be. But it’s not enough.

‘Fine with me.’ You move past him, into the supply room to grab your purse and jacket, proud of the way your voice doesn’t waver. Pausing in the hallway you turn to look back at him, still frozen against his desk. ‘I’m leaving this job, I’m not leaving you.’

He turns to look at you, running a hand through his hair and messing up the ends. ‘It will go the same way, I know it. In the end you’ll disappear too.’

‘Jongdae, I’m trying. I need you to at least meet me halfway.’

You don’t wait for his reply, if one was ever even going to come. Instead you continue down the small hallway and push out the back door into the mall. It’s only once you’re in your car that you remember he mentioned something he wanted to discuss. You wonder what it was, and if you’ll ever find out.

Jongdae stares after you for long seconds after you’re gone. He doesn’t hold out hope that you’ll come back, not after the way he treated you. Instead he feels stuck in place, like if he holds his breath and doesn’t exhale then the last five minutes didn’t happen.

But his lungs burn and his chest aches, and when he finally sighs it comes out ragged. He fumbles for the switch and the store descends into darkness. Shafts of light still come through, angled in from the glass ceiling of the mall’s concourse. Jongdae stands just outside of it, protected. With no one to see he sinks into his desk chair and drops his head into his hands.

The tears that clog his throat are at first unexpected, but as the minutes drag on he finally gives into them. He should have known they were coming all along. Not just from the moment you walked into his life, but from the day his grandfather died. From the day his father passed and his mother became a ghost rather than a permanent, tangible figure. 

From the day Julian took Jongdae’s designs and credited them as his own to the investors, cutting Jongdae out of not only the business they were building, but out of their group of friends as well.

Misery and hopelessness whisper against his skin and for long minutes he lets himself wallow. He knows it’s no one’s fault but his own that he ruined things with you. His grandfather taught him long ago that other’s actions are theirs, and that it’s what Jongdae does in response that is his responsibility. But he can’t deny that he indulges in thoughts of blaming the cruelty of life for making him so goddamn stubborn.

He swallows and leans back in his chair, feeling as though his body is made of hard, unyielding stone. Maybe it's better this way, he wonders, drumming his fingers on the wood desk before him. Perhaps he should let his worst fears dominate his life, believing that the risk is far greater than any potential reward that love or friendship could offer him.

Is it better to be alone, knowing that he’ll always be safe, free of anyone who might hurt him?

Jongdae groans. The voice inside him that whispers No sounds first like his grandfather, both encouraging and feisty at the thought of Jongdae giving up. Next it sounds like you. He knows you’d roll your eyes and call him grouchy, always thinking better of him than he does of himself. You’d tell him his bark is far worse than his bite and to get over himself already. At this thought, at any thought of you, really, he smiles.

Familiar voices make him look out into the mall. Sehun and Jongin walk by carrying sodas, rubbing their stomachs. He can imagine how they’re complaining about eating too much Barada pizza, as always. 

They pass by quickly but the image stays with him, of their friendship. Jongdae thinks of Chanyeol and Kyungsoo’s, how opposite and yet how similar they are. Baekhyun and Hitch, who are always teasing each other but who he knows would do anything at the drop of a hat.

He’s held himself back the past few months. First a reluctant observer. Then a tentative participant. The endless exhaustion of being careful, keeping his distance, catches up to Jongdae as he sits in that chair. If it weren’t for you maybe he’d never be brave enough to try again after how hard it was growing up. But if he is to be the kind of person, the kind of partner you deserve, now is the time to make the attempt.

It’s up to Jongdae to be the one to try, to reach out. He can’t let others find him anymore. For the first time in a long time Jongdae stands up and goes looking for a friend.

Junmyeon still has an hour before his store closes and he looks up at Jongdae as he walks in through the door of Guardians. ‘Hey, JD! How’s it going?’ If he notices that Jongdae’s been crying, he’s kind enough to not mention it.

‘Are you busy?’ Jongdae’s throat is raw but Jun has a young son, surely tears won’t bother him.

‘Not really, I’m just organizing some shipments going out tomorrow,’ Junmyeon answers. He sets down his pencil and rests his hands on the counter. A crease forms between his brows the longer he watches Jongdae. ‘Is everything alright?’

He wants to do this right, but all he can find are inelegant words. Junmyeon is as close as he has to a best friend at the moment, and he hopes he doesn’t inconvenience him. ‘Not really.’

Jun tilts his head and gestures to the door, picking up Jongdae’s unspoken request and running with it, just like he’d hoped he would. ‘I can close up shop a bit early. Want to talk in my office?’

Jongdae runs a hand over his face and nods. Grateful and relieved he manages a small laugh. ‘That would be great, thanks.’

After Jun locks the doors and flips the sign to closed he motions for Jongdae to follow him. The back room of Guardians is much warmer that at Chen’s Electronics, in style rather than temperature. Jongdae sits on a beige sofa that’s even more comfortable than it looks. The walls are filled with framed photos and art prints and various other pieces that give the space an art gallery vibe.

With a sigh Junmyeon tidies up the mess of papers and crayons and various cups with kid lids. ‘Sorry, Sungmin loves to draw but we haven’t quite nailed the clean up yet.’

‘Don’t worry about it on my behalf,’ Jongdae says sincerely. ‘I’m just grateful you’re willing to listen.’

The space has a narrow hallway leading to a back door and a closet that’s probably full of supplies, much like Jongdae’s store. Jun takes the cups to a small sink in the mini-kitchen in the corner. His brow lifts in confusion. ‘Why wouldn’t I? We’re friends, right?’

Could it be that simple? No need to prove himself or do everything possible to impress Junmyeon, like he did with Julian. ‘Yeah, we are I suppose.’ He laughs and shakes his head. ‘Sorry, I don’t mean to imply I don’t consider us friends, I just - well, have a few trust issues when it comes to that sort of thing.’

Junmyeon dries his hands on a dishtowel and blows his hair off his forehead with a huffed laugh. ‘We’ve all got a few issues, don’t we?’ He moves to the table and takes a seat, sliding a glass of water towards Jongdae and sipping from one of his own. ‘I’ve got the time. So quit stalling and tell me about yours.’

He sags into the couch and drinks from the glass. ‘Alright then.’

For once he doesn’t second guess himself or try to read the minutiae of Jun’s expressions to see if he’s annoying him or being too boring. Jongdae simply tells him the truth, trusting his friend to listen. 

He mentions his family and how hard it hit him when his grandfather passed. How strange and yet unbothered he is by the lack of relationship with his mother. The way he was teased growing up and how he was probably the only person in his Master’s program going through puberty. The fact that the mall is the first place he’s ever had friends his own age since childhood.

It’s satisfying to see how pissed off Jun gets when he tells him about Julian and all the bullshit he put Jongdae through. For a while there Jongdae had convinced himself that he was the one in the wrong, that there’d been something he’d done to earn his exile. That it was a deserved punishment. But his friend’s muttered curses remind him that true friends don’t normally backstab each other for money and notoriety.

And finally, he talks of you.

How much he values you at work and how sassy and insistent you were about bringing him into ‘the fold’ of their friend group. The ways in which he wants to be with you and care for you and all his worries of whether or not he’ll be any good at it, given his lack of experience. Junmyeon is neither surprised by his feelings for you nor willing to let him wallow.

‘I even brought prom tickets,’ Jongdae finishes with a groan. He pulls them from the pocket of his jeans and lets his arm fall to the couch cushion. ‘Me. At a prom.’ He almost snorts.

But Junmyeon just purses his lips. ‘Is that really such a stretch?’

Jongdae hums a noise of contemplation. ‘No. I guess not. All our friends are doing it.’ But before Jun can continue he shakes his head. ‘But I’ve messed this all up, so it doesn’t matter either way.’

Loneliness aches in his bones, his hands tired of not holding yours. Wishing he was enough, somehow, to keep you here and keep you warm; enough to make you stay, to make you happy.

Junmyeon raises a brow. ‘I think you’re missing the point entirely my friend. She told you what she needs. All you have to do is listen. She’s asking you to trust her. This job is something she’s worked for and she’s not leaving you for it. She’s just leaving the job. If you want to know you have to ask.’

He sighs deeply. ‘You’re right. But what if it all goes wrong? What if I try and it’s all for nothing in the end?’

Jun dips his chin to his chest, looking at the ground lost in thought. ‘That’s fair. I know a little of that myself, Jongdae. But all you can do is try. There’s sadly no guarantees here. I think you want to make it work and from what I know of her, she wants you as well. It’s time to make the big gesture. Or any kind of gesture, really.’

He groans and smiles, knowing his friend’s fondness for ‘I think you’re right.’ He even has an idea, two in fact. One that’s lived in the back of his mind for weeks and one that’s brewing right now. ‘Will you help me?’

‘Absolutely my friend.’ Jun claps him on the shoulder, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

November 19th, 1997

It should have been wonderful news to you that it was a clean break at least. No mess, just walking out the door and leaving behind the man and the job in one fell swoop. But of course, it wasn’t.

Microsoft was delighted when you told them you could start ASAP, but honestly you did it to jump into work rather than spend your time missing Jongdae. Filling your schedule proves to be the easiest way to avoid thinking about what hurts. You still had your roommates and Hitch and everyone else to hang out with, even if you weren’t ready for any Saturday pizza lunches or Shari’s nights quite yet. Both brought you far too close to him to bear right now.

Liz and Jane and Hitch are wonderful and you’ve had not one but two sleepovers since ‘the Jongdae incident.’ If not for their friendship and constant presence you’re sure you would have walled up the hurt and hid it away, not one to normally speak about your pain openly. Not while it’s so fresh. 

Distantly you hope that Jongdae is okay and that he has someone to talk to. If he’s even hurting. 

For all you know he’s completely fine and unaffected by the entire thing. Maybe he’s already found a new office manager and has forgotten about you. But those are the kind of rude and painful thoughts that only come to you at three in the morning when you can’t sleep, when dreams of his hands and his voice and his smile keep you up.

Jongdae calls one Tuesday to ask you to swing by Chen’s to pick something up the next day and you’re suspicious. He wouldn’t say any more, just ‘please come by at six. I have something to give you and I’d like it to be in person.’

You put on your favorite black dress and blazer that make you feel both sexy and confident and head to the mall. If he’s just calling you to twist the knife in deeper, you’ve already decided to leave and not bother letting him hurt you more. But if he’s calling to reconcile… you shake your head, not willing to get your hopes up. Instead you park in your old space and fix your make up in the rearview mirror.

It delights you to see that your old desk is returned to its former state. Just the computer, keyboard, and mouse remain. No one’s personal possessions have taken over the space like yours used to. It shouldn’t make you so happy to see he hasn’t replaced you, but it does.

Jongdae sits at his desk. His hair is in its usual perfect wave but his white button down and slacks have been swapped today for a dark green sweater and tan chinos. He looks ridiculously handsome and you grit your teeth, wishing you could turn off your attraction to him with a switch inside your brain.

He looks up at your knock on the glass door. For a moment he simply stands, drinking you in. Then he moves, walking closer to unlock the door and let you in. 

‘Hi. How are you?’

You blink and try not to laugh. ‘How am I? Jongdae, how do you think I am?’

‘Right, sorry.’ He shakes his head. Carefully he looks you up and down, not bothering to hide his own attraction to you in his hungry gaze. With a swallow he remembers himself and grabs a cardboard banker’s box from in front of his desk. ‘Here. I didn’t want to come by and drop it off. It felt wrong.’

The box holds all the random photos and personal belongings you’d left in your desk, in your haste to leave. Postcards from Amsterdam and family photos and lotions and your favorite scarf you’d been missing. He steps back, resting against the corner of his desk and folding his arms. When you take it he doesn’t say anything, which is not what you’d hoped by any means, but silence is definitely less painful than you’d feared.

‘Well, it’s been an adventure,’ you manage. You lean against your desk and move the box under one arm, holding out a hand to him to shake. Ready to be done with this officially.

He doesn’t move. You can feel words held on the tip of his tongue. Months and months later you know how to read his tells. The tightness in his jaw and the widening of his eyes and how his hand grips the fabric of his sweater. But seconds tick on and still he says nothing. 

He should speak or you should leave. One of you should do something. Instead you’re frozen in time. Eventually your arm aches and you set the box down beside you. You could go first, but pride demands he be the one to confess, if there’s going to be any confessions tonight.

Neither of you caves; twin pillars of resolution, stubbornness, and desire. It’s a game the two of you could play for hours. The tension in the air pulls tighter than a violin. His gaze drops from your eyes to your lips, unabashedly. His lids grow heavy as he breathes deeply, close enough to smell your gardenia perfume, but just out of reach of being able to touch you.

So this is what it feels like to meet my match, you think, finally acknowledging just how deeply you want him. Enough nights had been spent imagining kissing him, being with him in far more intimate ways than just a holding of hands or a hug. You want more, but only if he wants you, too.

You'd always been told that you were too driven, too smart, too self-sufficient to attract a man. Even in your MBA program where ambition and intelligence were supposedly rewarded, it apparently made you too something to find a good man to date.

But now there’s one right in front of you, looking at you as if you’re the answer to Fermat’s Enigma; a rare and priceless gem he’d been hunting for all his life. But he doesn’t look at you as if you’re art to be admired, a prize to be won. The guard lifts steadily and when he looks at you now it’s as if you’re the kind of miracle he wants to sink his teeth, his tongue, and his fingers into.

Your cheeks grow warm and you’re sure you look just as amazed and turned on as he does. If you had to guess, you’d bet that the number of people who challenge him these days are few, and the number of people who attempt to see the man behind the curtain even fewer.

While everyone else in the world might just see a monolith of a man, a genius, a hardworking and brilliant anomaly, you see the passionate, warm heart that beats in his chest. You know that the tin man really does have feelings and needs, and your heart almost breaks when you realize he’s been searching for you just as fervently as you’ve been searching for someone like him.

The silence in the room is almost too fragile a thing to break. On one side of the moment is a spark of something, a chance to see if this connection is real and deep, or if this is just chemistry and biology combining into lust. If your mind has taken the small gestures of passion and kindness and friendship from him and built it up to be something more than the sum of its parts.

‘I’ve missed you,’ he breathes, voice catching in his throat. Releasing his folded arms he rests his palms on the edges of the desk.

‘I’ve missed you, too,’ you admit. Your hands curl in on themselves, trying to fight the way emotion and physical longing make it difficult to be in such a close proximity to him.

‘Okay, then.’ He breaks first, moving with purpose and striding to you in two steps, sliding his hands along your jaw with such softness that you gasp. 

And then, finally, you feel his lips on yours. You grasp his hips, hands freed and aching to touch him, to feel his hard body press against yours with surprising heat.

You meet him with equal passion, working your lips against his steady assault on your composure. For a solid minute you’re in awe that you could feel this much, that his lips and his hands could undo you so rapidly. That they could rebuild you into someone who belongs to him in such a short space of time, after weeks of endless doubt.

He groans against your lips in what feels like similar shock and surrender. Who would have thought that he would cave to your touch just as you did to his? How could someone so grumpy and strong-willed also be so open and vulnerable to this tentative thing between you.

But as he drops a hand and brings it to rest securely on the small of your back you realize there’s a name for this feeling.

You could call it fate. You could call it destiny. You could call it that damned four-letter word or you could call it Darwinism for all you care as his teeth bite gently into your lower lip.

You just know that nothing has ever felt as good and right as his hands claiming you for his own and the smell and heat of him wrapping themselves around you and burrowing their way into your heart.

A whine works its way from your throat as he licks along the seam of your lips, seeking entrance. When you open your mouth to him, his tongue slides along your own and you almost lose your balance. With a giggle you could swear you’ve never made before in your life you let him guide you up onto the desk.

He steps between your legs instantly, gripping your hips and continuing his tasting of you. Heat and electricity race down your spine as you fist your hands in his hair, pulling him closer to you until there’s no separation.

Banging on the glass doors and whistles come from out in the mall and you freeze. Instead of jerking back in shock and alarm like you’d expect him to, Jongdae confounds you once again. He pulls back slowly, opening his eyes and lifting his hands to gently cup your face. It can’t have been more than fifteen minutes but in less than the time it takes to watch one episode of Friends he’s turned your world on its axis.

You and Jongdae smile at each other and both turn to wave at your group of friends, who are celebrating and clapping. Baekhyun eats from an enormous bag of popcorn, wearing his theater uniform. Jongin and Sehun take large handfuls and Hitch whoops with joy. Liz and Jane and Junmyeon are all smiling, and attempt to force some of the group away to give you privacy.

Jongdae’s hands flex on your waist. ‘I want to try. You’re everything I want, will you please give me the chance to be what you need?’ His voice is raspy and his lips are red and you can’t help but grin.

‘I just want you, okay?’ You fix his messed up hair with both hands and sigh with relief. ‘And for you to admit you like me.’

‘I far more than like you.’ Jongdae rolls his eyes and kisses you once more. ‘You just want me to say you’re right.’

With a laugh you ease yourself off your desk, standing close within his arms and bending to whisper in his ear. ‘I’m always right. I just love when you admit it.’

‘So,’ he starts with an amused quirk of an eyebrow. ‘Will you let me take you to dinner? Us, officially, on a date.’

Your chest feels as if it’s a balloon, expanding so rapidly it might burst. He looks so young and boyish and hopeful your heart feels like it turns to liquid gold. With a delighted grin you lean forward and press your lips to his again, unable to resist.

Joy swims in his irises as he holds you in his arms. He looks at you through his lashes, his lips tilting into lopsided smile. ‘Is that a yes, then?’

‘Yes,’ you answer. ‘Of course.’

‘How’s right now for you?’ He motions to the doors and your friends have finally been corralled to the side of the walkway, revealing an elaborately decorated table in the food court.

You gasp and grip his arm. Jun and Sehun hold the doors open and Jongdae escorts you out. A red tablecloth is spread out over the circular table. The chairs have added plush cushions and several candles have been lit. A bottle of wine and two glasses rest beside several plates of food. You recognize the pizza from Barada, the rest looks like a mix from the other restaurants in the food court. 

With high fives and hugs from your friends they finally leave you and Jongdae alone. Well, almost alone. It’s not a busy time at the mall, but there’s no way to avoid some of the customers turning to watch with amusement and curiosity as they pass by. You pay them no mind as Jongdae holds out your chair and helps you sit. 

The two of you fall back into conversation easy enough, aided by the enormous amount of food and how you no longer have to move your knees away when they bump under the table. Jongdae reaches for your hand and holds it, in full view. He stares at the joined digits with warmth before looking up at you. 

Doubt passes across his face, marring the beauty that contentment lends his features. ‘I don’t -’ he struggles. ‘I don’t know how to keep this much good in my life. I worry that I’m going to mess it up.’

Neither of you are the type to openly acknowledge such things. Merely the fact that he’s voicing his fears to you shows you he’s doing what he said - he’s trying, he wants to change. And truthfully so do you. 

‘I worried for the longest time that I’d be alone forever,’ you say softly. ‘I didn’t think I’d ever find someone who understood me or who could handle all my - well, you know how I am.’ 

Jongdae smiles then, lifting your joined hands to his lips to press a kiss to your skin. ‘I love who you are.’ 

Your eyes mist at that and you groan, trying to blink them back. ‘Good, because I love who you are too.’ With your free hand you reach for his, needing to hold both of them and all of him at once. Not wanting to give his overly-analytical mind a chance to override the fragile hope you’re both building tonight. ‘You know what to do when a computer overloads?’

He nods. ‘Of course. Often it’s just a simple matter of turning it off and on again.’

‘So,’ you say, lifting your shoulder in a shrug. ‘When we mess up or freak out or say the wrong thing, we’ll just start over again. As long as you want me and I want you, we’ll figure it out.’ 

Jongdae softens, his shoulders dropping and ease coming back into his eyes. ‘I didn’t know I was lagging until you jump started my life.’ He waggles his brows. It’s a gesture that’s all Baekhyun, and a pun so terrible that Junmyeon would be proud. You can’t help but laugh and squeeze his hands. 

‘I’ve got one more surprise,’ Jongdae says, reluctantly releasing one of your hands to pull two narrow slips of paper from his pocket. ‘Do you have any plans for Christmas?’ 

The tickets are in both your names. First class round trip from Seattle to Amsterdam. ‘Oh my - Jongdae, what is this? You and me in Amsterdam?’ 

‘I figured it was about time,’ he says with pride. 

You lean out of your chair and reach for him, tugging him closer to kiss him fully. Noise reaches you - clapping and cheering from the shops around the mall. When you look around you see Sehun and his girlfriend leaning out of Starlight Apparel. Chanyeol and Kyungsoo smiling and fist bumping as they work on closing up the shop. 

Hitch nudges Baekhyun from the theater booth and he jumps in excitement. And from Guardians Junmyeon leans on the counter, resting his chin in his hand, giving a thumbs up. 

You roll your eyes and wave. ‘We maybe should have gone somewhere outside the mall, huh?’

'No, I think this is perfect,’ Jongdae answers. He then covers your mouth with his and holds you so tight that it drowns out the chorus of cheering that echos around the space. 

[creepie-cookie]

The Mirror’s Made of Glass

Prompt: Virgil finds Roman after a quest gone wrong…

Summary: He hadn’t meant for things to get so out of hand.Then again, he hadn’t meant to become such a failure either, so maybe he shouldn’t have been surprised with how things had turned out. 

Trigger Warnings: Blood (lots of blood), Wound Description, Past Battle Reference, Panic Attack, Self-Deprecating Thoughts, Anxious Thoughts, Food Mention, Indirect Self-Harm (injured in a fight used for coping purposes)

Word Count: 2774

Ao3

Roman stumbled back into his room, panting and clenching the fabric of his sash to the three claw marks across his chest. He had been injured on quests before – after all, to always escape unscathed would never allow him to hone his abilities – but he had never been hurt to this extent. He always paced himself, increasing the dragon witch’s power incrementally, but this time it appeared he had slightly overdone it.

But hey, at least the fight had successfully distracted him, and even now he could focus on tending to his wounds instead of…other things. Perhaps his imagination had inadvertently paid him a service in conjuring the exceptionally difficult battle.

The warm sensation of blood running down his arm pulled Roman from his musings. Perhaps his imagination had done him a favor, but he would still have to be more careful next time. He couldn’t afford for the others to find out about his more…daring coping methods. Logan already disliked his using the imagination as an escape from reality, and Patton would never approve of Roman placing himself in danger while distressed. Virgil might understand his need to take out his frustrations, but his protective instincts would override any empathy. Along with Patton, the two would never let Roman out of their sight again.

Long story short, Roman did not want to deal with the others’ reactions to his little adventures. 

As he finished catching his breath, Roman quickly summoned a towel to soak up the blood running down his arm before pressing it to his chest in place of his now-dripping sash. He briefly considered trying to salvage the crimson fabric but quickly decided against it, instead tossing it to the side where it vanished into the air. He would have to dispose of his entire outfit, so there was no point in saving that one piece. Besides, he didn’t want to risk forgetting about it and giving Patton a heart attack next laundry day.

After double checking that his plush carpet hadn’t acquired any stains, Roman quickly headed towards the adjoining bathroom to begin cleaning his wound.

Something was off. Virgil wasn’t sure what exactly it was, but as soon as he left his room, he could tell there something was different about the mindscape. Maybe it was just the sudden absence of Evanescence blasting through his headphones, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that things seemed…a little too quiet.

Virgil quickly ran through a mental checklist of the light sides. He could faintly hear singing and the occasional clang of pots downstairs, so he knew Patton was most likely making lunch. Virgil’s mouth quirked momentarily into a small smile as he thought about the moral side’s enthusiasm for taking care of everyone before returning his attention to his checklist. He couldn’t hear anything from Logan’s room, but that wasn’t unusual. Lo had been pretty busy lately helping Thomas research Roman’s ideas for the next video; the logical side was probably wrapping up some “light” reading in silence before lunch.

That left Princey.

Virgil couldn’t hear anyone singing alongside Pat downstairs, nor could he hear any Disney or Broadway music through the creative side’s door. Frowning, he tip-toed a little closer to the doorway framed by decorative red curtains. Roman’s room was never quiet – not unless he was out in the imagination, but Roman rarely stayed out so close to lunch. He claimed that a prince should never be late to dinner, but Virgil knew he just couldn’t resist Patton’s cooking. Virgil glanced back to Logan’s door to make sure he was alone before pressing his ear to the white wood. He didn’t want Lo to think he was snooping (even though he technically was, but it was for good reason!). From his place by the door, he could just make out the sound of running water.

Virgil let out a shaky breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Of course, Princey had just come back from the imagination, so he was washing up before lunch. That made sense; Virgil was just being… overly cautious.

Still, as much as he wanted to believe it and as logical as it was, Virgil wasn’t Logan. He specialized in worrying, and he hadn’t yet managed to convince himself of Roman’s safety.

Inside, the stream of water subsided, and Virgil froze. Had Roman heard him? After a tense moment of silence, a sharp string of expletives, muffled only by the wooden door between them, jolted Virgil to his feet. His anxiety over Roman’s safety skyrocketed, quickly overriding any apprehension he would have typically felt over intruding on another side’s privacy, and he immediately yanked open the pristine white door by its gleaming, golden handle.

Roman’s room looked relatively normal. Only his bed was slightly disheveled, but his bathroom door stood ajar, snapping Virgil’s attention to the panicked reflection staring back at him from the bathroom mirror. What alarmed him most, however, were the three, bleeding gashes across the creative side’s chest.

The two sides stood paralyzed for a moment, stunned by each other’s appearance. Virgil swallowed past the fear bubbling up in his chest and broke the silence.

“Roman…?” the anxious side started tentatively. He cleared his throat before continuing, voice strained with the effort not to waver. “Why… what happened to you, Roman?”

Roman didn’t respond, but Virgil’s question seemed to shake him from his stupor as he suddenly let out a strangled cry and scrambled to shut his door, all while holding his arm over his chest as if that one gesture could cover the damage and erase it from where it had been seared into Virgil’s memory.

When Roman’s bathroom door slammed shut, Virgil felt his lungs close off as well. The one thing worse for Virgil than seeing Ro hurt was knowing the prince was hurt and not being able to help. Virgil clenched his fists as he fought for control over his rising panic. He could clearly see that there was something wrong, so he could do without the screeching alarm system sounding off inside him this time, please and thank you.

Every cell of his body trembled with the need to move, to run towards the prince, to sprint out of the room and get Patton and Logan, to hunt down whatever – or whoever – had hurt the prince and make sure it never got anywhere near Roman again. But, like his lungs, Virgil couldn’t seem to make the rest of his body move no matter how hard he tried.

Through the whirlwind of thoughts spinning through his mind, Virgil grasped for and clung to one: Roman needed help, so Virgil could either let his anxiety overwhelm him, or he could use it to sharpen his focus and help the creative side. With that thought, Virgil slowly unclenched one of his fists and began to tap out a somewhat shaky beat against his leg.

One, two, three, four.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.

Repeat. One, two, three, four…

On the other side of the bathroom door, Roman stood with his back pressed against the wood, gasping for air and wincing as the movement pulled at his wounds. He still held his arm to his chest, but now it felt more like he was trying to hold himself together rather than trying to hide his injuries – and it was proving to be just as futile an attempt as hiding had been.

The others couldn’t know. They just couldn’t. How could he have been so careless? Why had he left his bathroom door open? Why had Virgil burst in, anyways? And why did it have to be Virgil instead of Logan? Roman had seen the way Virgil had frozen, and he knew the anxious side was probably frozen just outside the door and suffering from a terrible panic attack as well and it was all Roman’s fault and – wait, as well? No, Roman wasn’t having an panic attack. He didn’t get panic attacks…right? His lungs seemed to disagree.

Just how broken was he…?

No, no, no! These were exactly the kind of thoughts he had been trying to avoid when he fought the dragon witch. He couldn’t face them because to face them would mean admitting once and for all that he wasn’t good enough, and Roman knew that he wouldn’t be able to handle that reality.

But the more Roman tried to avoid his thoughts, the more tenaciously they seemed to grip him, and this time even the dragon witch hadn’t been enough to loosen their hold.

In the bedroom, Virgil slowly but surely managed to calm himself, but in the absence of his own anxiety, he could feel an additional undertone of uneasiness. He was all too familiar with underlying anxiety, but this felt different – as if he was experiencing someone else’s fear beneath his own.

Now wasn’t the time to figure it out, though. He had cleared his mind enough to help Roman, and that was exactly what he was going to do. However, when Virgil glanced towards the bathroom door, that undertone of uneasiness surged into an undercurrent of panic. Although unnerving, it didn’t affect Virgil’s ability to think. The panic was certainly present, but it was as if it was somehow trapped by a thin film within him. Even so, Virgil closed his eyes and shook his head a little, dispelling it. It didn’t retreat entirely, but its presence became less notable. As soon as he looked towards the bathroom door again, however, it returned full force.

Virgil’s eyes widened as realization hit him. Of course! He was sensing Roman’s fear. As quickly as this epiphany occurred, however, Virgil felt (his own) dread gather in the pit of his stomach. For the creative side’s fear to be that palpable, that intense, the prince had to be experiencing a panic attack, and Virgil – the literal embodiment of anxiety and thus well-versed in coping methods – had yet to do anything to help.

Rushing forward, Virgil grimaced as he felt the subdued panic continue to rise within him. “Ro?” he called out gently as he slowed to a stop outside the bathroom door. No response. Virgil sighed and paused for a moment to think. He needed to help ground Roman before he could ever hope to gain entrance to the bathroom to help tend to Roman’s wounds – and most importantly, find out who or what had hurt him so that he could make sure it never happened again.

The five senses technique Logan had shown him would allow Virgil to hear Roman’s voice, but it ran the risk of being a little…too grounded in reality for the fanciful side. The four-seven-eight technique wouldn’t allow Virgil to see or hear Roman’s reaction, but with his newfound ability to feel Roman’s anxiety, he would still be able to gauge its effectiveness. Besides, Virgil knew firsthand how crucial breath control was for calming down and how trying to speak too soon could be more detrimental than beneficial.

“Roman, I need you to listen to me, okay? You don’t have to respond. I’m going to guide you through a breathing exercise. To start, I’m going to count to four while tapping the door, and I need you to breathe in for me, okay? I’m starting now: one…” Virgil spoke softly but loud enough for the prince to hear and rapped one knuckle quietly on the doorframe in a steady beat.

“That’s it, you’re doing great Princey. One more time now, you’ve got this. One, two…” Roman drew in another breath slowly but surely so as not to pull at his wounds too much, held it, and let it out shakily to Virgil’s count. The creative side knew that despite his prickly exterior, Virgil cared for everyone in his own way, but he had rarely heard the anxious side’s voice sound so…soothing. Then again, he had never been in a situation like this before either. If anything, it was usually the other way around with Logan or sometimes Patton helping Virgil calm down; Roman usually just tried to stay out of their way when things got that bad.

“Roman,” Virgil’s voice drifted through the door, an anchor despite the terror Roman had felt upon his initial appearance. “I know you’re scared right now, and that’s okay, but you’re also injured, and from what I saw, it’s bad. I need you to let me in, so I can help treat your wounds, Ro…please.”

Rationally, the creative side knew that the damage had already been done – literally as well as metaphorically – and that he would have difficulty bandaging his chest alone, but that thought didn’t stop the panic from rising within him again. If he let Virgil in now, the other side would see firsthand how he couldn’t even do this right severely he was injured, which would only make him see how useless he was worry more and invite more questions.

Just as Roman felt his thoughts begin to spiral and his anxiety begin to spike once more, Virgil continued hurriedly, as if trying to catch the prince before he descended further into his fears. “You don’t have to explain what happened yet. I know you don’t want me to see you like this, and I know it’s nerve-wracking – believe me, I understand – but you can’t and shouldn’t try to do this alone. I’m here, Ro. Let me help you.”

Hands trembling slightly, Roman pushed himself up from the now blood-stained tiles (when had he slid to the ground anyways?) and off the door. He reached for the doorknob, hesitating when he saw the smear of crimson where he had slammed and locked the door shut earlier. Closing his eyes and breathing in to steady himself (why had he let a bit of blood bother him so? It wasn’t like he wasn’t covered in it), he gripped the handle tightly so as not to slip and slowly turned it to the right.

Virgil stepped back as the door in front of him cracked open, the bright light spilling out and momentarily blinding his view inside. The creative side continued to ease the door open – slowly, cautiously, an action so unlike his boisterous and at times impulsive self – and soon, Virgil could once again make out the battered prince’s reflection. Conflicting emotions flickered across the other’s face with no trace of his usual confidence in either expression or stance. His eyes were glued resolutely to the white wood partially obscuring his face and frame, as if by refusing to visually acknowledge Virgil’s presence, the past ten minutes would magically erase themselves.

Instead, Virgil stared back at him from across the threshold, frozen in place by the other side’s appearance. From across the bedroom, he’d only noticed the bloody gashes marring the prince’s chest. Up close, he could see the way Roman seemed to curl into himself, one arm still wrapped around his torso despite the wounds crossing it. He could see the way his body trembled, which Virgil suspected had more to do with the icy waves of fear emanating from him than the cool air. He could see the way his hair – always oh-so-carefully styled – stuck out in every direction and clung to his forehead, which shone with sweat. Beneath his bangs – oh god, Princey – Virgil could see storm clouds brewing in his eyes, but even those seemed half-hearted, filled only with raindrops and lacking the lightning spirit that usually lit his irises.

“Princey…” Virgil trailed off, voice catching when Roman finally tore his gaze from the door, dull eyes pleading with the anxious side to not make this any harder than it already was. Virgil felt his heart and throat constrict upon seeing his friend – his exuberant, passionate, brave friend – reduced to such a state. Remembering his purpose and earlier promise to the prince, however, he forced himself to step forward into the grand bathroom, past the door still partially obscuring the other’s wounds.

He had steeled himself for what he would see, but nothing could have prepared him for the sight that awaited him. Virgil felt his stomach lurch and had to steady himself against the marble countertop as he finally took in the extent of Roman’s injuries. The other had obviously already started cleaning them, but the half-cleaned state only revealed how deep the gashes ran, only highlighted the red stains against his pale and clammy skin.

Virgil forced himself to swallow past the knot of fear and anguish tightening in his throat and grabbed a white and red embroidered washcloth from the marble countertop.

Thank you for reading! Let me know if you enjoyed it, and reblogs are much appreciated!

[toglidethroughlife]

Brighter Than Any Star:

An intimate look at everyone’s new favorite bass player

(or the blades band au that nobody asked for)

*inspired by @iaraiumi‘s STUNNING guitarist tyril art (here)

tyril-centric and tyril x mc bc this would be 7k+ words if i didn’t focus on just one of them but i tried to give everyone a moment in the spotlight. credits to a fic i read from the 100 fandom years ago for the format

used my f!elf mc ryllea graywater for this (though i guess this is kind of a modern au idk asjdla); also i don’t play any musical instruments i’m sorry in advance for butchering any of the technical parts 😬

Tyril Starfury — with his red silk shirts and slicked back hair — looks every bit the part of a rock god on stage with the rest of BLADES; but here, in the confines of their tour bus, he is a quiet presence, calmly sipping tea in the corner with a notepad and pen in his hands, his mind far away in the early hours of the morning.

If you had told me eighteen months ago that I would be shadowing Broadway darling Tyril Starfury as he traveled cross-country with his new rock band, I would have laughed and called you preposterous.

And yet, here I am, witness to the madness.

Nia Ellarious, the band’s youngest member and resident pianist, offers me a cup of the same tea as Starfury’s, telling me to enjoy the quiet with an almost apologetic smile.

I understand what she means not long after.

(There’s no such thing as a quiet morning in the world of Mal Volari.)

Every bit as charming and flamboyant as his on-stage persona, Volari greets the entire bus a good morning with flourish, throwing both me and Ellarious a magnetic smile before slipping towards the coffee machine with exceptionally light feet. (More on that later.) He taps on every available surface while he waits for his coffee to brew, humming softly as if figuring out a melody right there on the spot.

If Starfury is bothered by Volari’s banging and humming, he makes no show of it, paying him no mind as he continues to scribble in his notepad.

Ellarious beams as the scene plays out in front of her. “It’s not every day that they don’t get on each other’s nerves,” she explains. “Especially in the morning.”

It’s around this time — almost noon now — that Ryllea Graywater, lead guitarist and vocalist, wakes and joins the group, heading straight towards Volari and the cup of coffee in his hand.

“Thanks,” she winks as she takes the cup from him, shooting Volari a shit-eating grin that he returns easily, already procuring another cup for himself.

It should be noted that Graywater doesn’t seem to talk to anyone until she’s had at least one cup of coffee, choosing instead to slide in beside Starfury in the dining booth, eyes darting towards the notepad he’s writing on. They kind of just... sit there, minding their own business amidst the chaos that is the rest of the bus.

(Volari’s launched into an animated story about the inspiration behind last year’s summer hit, “Contessa, Contessa”, but I can’t help being drawn to the more quiet story unfolding behind him in the dining booth.)

Slinging one arm against the backrest of Starfury’s seat, Graywater casually invites herself into his space, a thoughtful smile on her lips as she looks over the notepad in his hand. There’s an openness between them that tells me that this isn’t a new occurrence, a comfortable ease in the way they seem to be engaging in a wordless conversation.

“He’s kind of really private,” I recall the younger Starfury sibling, Adrina, telling me about his creative process years ago, at the release party for his collab album with then rumored girlfriend and writing partner Kaya Duskraven. “He’s always been a perfectionist. Doesn’t really let anyone other than Kaya hear anything until it’s finished.”

But there’s no trace of that here, in this quiet moment with Graywater, bright, almost triumphant smiles on their faces as she picks up a pen and scribbles something on the pad too, immediately tapping out a melody against the table as if to test-run it by Starfury.

The smile he gives her is glowing.

I look away — suddenly feeling like an intruder in their private moment — catching the tail-end of Volari’s Contessa story, right before Imtura (no publicly released surname) accidentally slams me against the wall when the bus makes a rocky turn.

“Oof, sorry there little guy.” She raises both hands in apology before heading straight for the coffee machine, haphazardly dumping its contents into a generous-sized mug before immediately proceeding to consume said coffee as she plunks onto the other end of the dining booth.

And that’s how the first morning of me shadowing BLADES goes.

Ellarious tells me I’m lucky it was a good one.

-

With over 16 years of experience under his belt, Tyril Starfury has been in the music and entertainment industry far longer than the rest of the BLADES members combined. At the tender age of nine, he won his first piano competition, regarded highly for his precision at such a young age. He would continue to play competitively until he discovers a new love — musical theater.

It’s no surprise that Starfury ends up on Broadway — he comes from a long line of revered artists, all of them regarded as geniuses of their time. Though some would argue that his family name opened doors that would otherwise be unavailable, no one could deny that it was his clear, soaring baritone and unrelenting work ethic that kept him on stage.

It’s on this stage that he met young Kaya Duskraven, an understudy in one of his shows, prompting a fruitful five-year partnership spanning two EPs and a mini-concert series, Stars in the Dusk.

(The name was a little on the nose, but the critics loved them all the same.)

The two shared such a comfortable rapport, on and off-stage, that they naturally sparked dating rumors — Starfury was always quick to deny them.

No one could have expected the partnership to end on such a bitter note.

To this day, no one knows the real reason behind their fallout — Starfury walked out in the middle of their televised performance without apology or explanation — though there have been no shortage of rumors and theories, a lot of them involving one Eleryn Rosecoven, better known in the industry as Shadow Court bassist dXenia.

I tried to bring it up once, after several bottles of beer have been consumed and the band is swapping stories over s’mores made over the tour bus stove.

I’ve never been shut out so fast in my life.

There’s an audible crack from the s’more now crushed in Imtura’s hand, her piercing amber eyes seemingly driving a death sentence into mine. Volari sighs disapprovingly (and dramatically) at me, and even Ellarious — friendly, cheery Nia — looks at me with a pointed glare, turning off the stove, signaling the end of s’mores night.

“I would prefer not to comment,” Starfury nods at me, years of practiced courtesy showing in his tone and all I want in that moment is for the earth to swallow me whole.

Graywater follows when he excuses himself from the group. Everyone else avoids me like the plague.

It’s hours later when Starfury and Graywater return to the bus — I pretend to have fallen asleep in the dining booth in hopes that I can avoid their fury until the morning — but Graywater approaches me with two cups of tea in hand, an unreadable expression on her face.

She slides over one cup to me — if the scalding temperature of the tea is intentional, she makes no obvious show of it.

“Look,” she begins with an exasperated sigh. “I know you’re only doing your job here. And we did agree to this article, so I’m sorry if things got a little tense back there.” She pauses, as if considering her next words carefully. “We’ve all lived moments in our lives that we’re not proud of. Tyril’s had to live his in front of the public eye. He’ll talk about it when he feels ready to... but his past doesn’t define him, none of ours do.”

I nod, understanding that this is the last we’ll speak of the subject. She smiles as if in truce, telling me that I don’t have to banish myself to the dining booth and that no one will pull any pranks on me if I sleep in the shared bedroom.

I barely catch any sleep anyway.

There’s a ferocity in the way they protect each other that I didn’t notice at first — it could be subtle sometimes, like in the way Volari always checks in with each of the band members every night before going to bed (even though Starfury usually brushes him off); or in the way Imtura always makes sure every one stays hydrated (feel free to interpret that however you wish, whichever way is true); or in the way Ellarious always has some form of baked good running in the oven, more often someone else’s favorite rather than her own.

(I learn the hard way that no one is allowed to get in between Imtura and her cupcakes. No one.)

It’s also plain as day whenever they’re on stage together, their set list a carefully curated show that highlights each member’s strengths without anyone getting overworked. Everyone’s always quick to catch each other whenever they hit snags along the road — there’s a moment in one of the shows when Volari’s mic suddenly gets cut off and Starfury swoops in without missing a beat, a small nod of the former’s head seemingly the only cue he needs, the trust between them implicit.

When I had asked earlier why he’d joined BLADES, Starfury simply shrugged, as if it was no big deal.

“It was by accident. I happened to be at one of their shows and they needed a bass player. We kind of just… worked and we’ve played together ever since.”

But this kind of chemistry doesn’t just happen by accident. No, this is the product of months and months of hard work, of opinions clashing and arguments spanning days before sitting down and realizing it’s not impossible to see eye to eye; it’s battles won and battles lost together, respect earned and trust merited.

To call them just another band seems too small a word almost. Insufficient.

They’re kind of like a family.

(If your typical family involved regular knife and axe-throwing contests, that is.

... it’s best not to ask.)

-

Tensions are high backstage at Deadwood Festival Grounds.

Volari has been pacing around non-stop. Ellarious looks like she’s using every bit of her willpower not to bite her fingernails. Imtura keeps violently tapping her drumsticks together. Starfury’s got his arms crossed in a corner, brows furrowed.

Graywater is doing a handstand for no apparent reason.

The anxiety is understandable — tonight’s a crucial moment for the band.

With only one more show before the grand finale at Whitetower Stadium, all the bands are doing their best to retain the crowd’s favor, each playing well-established fan favorites, saving the riskier song choices for the finale.

That is, everyone except BLADES.

They’re planning to debut two new songs tonight, both of which written solely by Starfury.

It’s a ballsy move on its own — no one’s exactly itching to drop the ball on their fans this close to the end — but add in the fact that Starfury hasn’t released any solo-written music since the Duskraven fallout and you’ve got the makings of a battle that could either go incredibly right or disastrously wrong.

Let’s back up a bit.

After the Duskraven breakup, Starfury had gone into something of a hiatus (if that’s what you call disappearing off the face of the entertainment industry) before dropping the 13-track self-written album, “Honor,” without prior notice or promotion. Fans were ecstatic to hear from him after his sudden break, but critics were less enthused, calling the album ‘a brash, arrogant attempt at flipping the metaphorical finger at Duskraven that ultimately falls short’, noting the clear absence of Duskraven’s touch in his music — all technicality, no soul.

Starfury’s penned a couple of songs with BLADES since, spanning genres as colorful and diverse as its writers, but there hasn’t been a solo venture since Honor, leaving long-time Starfury fans anxious to hear him take lead again.

Graywater calls everyone into a circle, locking eyes with Starfury as she gives his hand a squeeze.

She makes a speech that I‘m not privy to — but everyone is visibly more resolute after she speaks, each raising their fists to meet in the middle of the circle.

“I’m honored to be on this journey with you all,” I hear Starfury share, a glittering smile spreading on Volari’s lips at the statement.

“I knew you liked us!” he says, crossing the circle to throw an arm around Starfury’s shoulders, pulling him close.

“Group hug!” Ellarious laughs and Imtura closes the circle into a solid embrace.

Starfury appears to be in shock — as if this is the first time this has happened — but he recovers quickly, a quietly contented smile on his face.

The last streaks of daylight have disappeared by the time they’re called to stage, the crowd restless from a long afternoon under the blistering heat.

Darkness has fallen.

But then the opening chords to fan-favorite “Murderous Masquerade” cut through the evening air, a flurry of flashing lights bursting through the sky, and the Deadwood comes alive.

Volari takes center stage in his flashy black and gold ensemble, working the crowd with such ease that it’s no question why he’s been dubbed the band’s de facto showman — he’s frankly just mesmerizing to watch.

Next up is “The Priestess and the Warrior,” an epic tale crammed into four and a half minutes of heart-racing drum beats — provided by the insanely talented Imtura — with a tender piano-driven bridge near the close, Ellarious’ heartbreaking vocals driving the whole thing home.

Graywater takes lead in the third number, “Flirting with Monsters,” a delicate neo R&B number that sounds nothing like the title suggests, her earnest, airy vocals lulling you into a comfortable, almost dream-like state as she entices her lover to stay.

The one thing common between the seemingly weird mishmash of genres is Starfury’s steady bassline, providing a much needed thread of cohesion to the set list. Where Volari, Imtura, Graywater, and even Ellarious tackle their music with the raw aggression of fresh blood on stage, Starfury attacks with quiet, seasoned finesse, his expertise evident in tracks like “Watch your back (or I’ll watch it for you)” and “Drakna Queen” — two unconventionally energetic numbers that would be difficult to listen to live if not for Starfury’s sure hand bringing them harmony.

“Alright, we’re gonna slow things down for a bit,” Graywater announces, eyes sparkling with excitement as she looks at Starfury. “Tyril’s got a new song and we want you guys to be the first to hear it.”

By now, I’ve seen enough of Starfury’s performances to say that he’s not a nervous performer. Even in the earlier stages of his career, there was always a quiet assuredness about him — which could have also been easily called arrogance — and while that’s still present now, there’s something different about the way he interacts with the crowd, a sense of humility present in the way he put his hands together and gives them a brief bow before he sits himself in front of the piano.

“I would like to dedicate this to a person very special to me,” he begins, his fingers gentle on the keys, a soft, lilting melody dancing in the air.

(He’s not even the least bit subtle about the way he looks at Graywater.)

“She has reminded me, time and again, that hope and love, when we allow it, can shine the brightest light in the dark.” Graywater shakes her head as if to shrug in nonchalance, but she meets his eyes dead on, her smile beaming with pride.

Turning to the crowd, Starfury adds, “I hope this gives you as much joy as you’ve given me. This one’s called ‘Kilvali.’”

For the next minute, it’s just Starfury and the piano, the world quiet as his voice fills the air. If there was ever any doubt that Starfury had lost his vocal prowess, there wouldn’t be any now. His voice is clear and strong — reaching even the farthest row of people on the music grounds — albeit with a softness now that I’ve never heard from him before, his attachment to his music feeling infinitely more personal.

“All my moments with you are worth whatever pain that came before,” he sings, his voice soaring as the rest of the band join him in the second verse. The performance is even more powerful with the added instrumentation.

Tiny cellphone flashlights illuminate the crowd as they sway their hands in time to the song, the emotion in Starfury’s voice rolling out in waves.

Twitter user @notmxwllbmnt13 sums it up nicely:

SJSKJSJSK TYRIL STARFURY KILLED ME TONIGHT!! ALL!! THE!! FEELS!!

(It really was beautiful.)

The crowd cheers as the song draws to a close, but the battle’s not over yet (as Starfury would tell me himself later) — the true test lying in whether or not his second song proves a testament to his newfound voice in songwriting… or if it’s just a one-time stroke of luck.

“If it’s alright with you, we’d like to play you another new one,” he says and the applause is deafening when he turns over the mic to Volari, the latter pulling him into a one-armed hug before taking to the crowd.

If Duskraven’s interviews post-breakup are to be believed, Starfury has never — not once — written a song that wasn’t intended for himself. (She claimed to have co-written plenty of solos for Starfury, but he allegedly never returned the favor.) A quick glance at his repertoire would make this allegation appear true.

“It is true,” he tells me simply when I bring it up later in the tour bus. (Despite the coolness of his voice, I notice him shift a little in his seat.) “I was... unconfident, extending my words to other artists like that. I was also prideful and arrogant — afraid to face the judgment and criticism of my peers, and for that, I truly am sorry to Kaya. She deserved better from me as a partner.”

It seems Starfury has taken that incident to heart. Listening to “Purple Dreams” with Volari’s teasing falsetto on the forefront, it becomes clear that Starfury wrote this with the former’s vocals in mind, the flirtatious mix of his sassy vocal riffs and playful onstage antics giving the song a delicious, intoxicating energy.

It’s probably the most experimental I’ve heard from Starfury as a writer, both in terms of lyricism and melody.

“I’ve learned a lot this last year, creating music with BLADES,” he explains. “Not only did I find a new perspective on songwriting thanks to them, but my bandmates also gave me the courage to try things outside of my comfort zone and to allow myself to make mistakes. They inspire me.”

Years ago, he was dubbed as stiff and awkward outside of the theater stage, with Duskraven providing all the charm in their partnership, but now, on stage with BLADES — as Volari points his sultry gaze at him, singing his own lyrics to him — Starfury smirks, leaning ever so slightly against the showman as his hands tease along the guitar strings, driving the crowd wild.

It’s clear by the end of the song that Starfury has won over the crowd, and for once, he actually seems to revel in it, his smile beaming as he takes in the applause.

The rest of the band are even more thrilled for him, each leaving their posts to engulf him in another hug.

He doesn’t hesitate this time, allowing the fond gesture in front of their adoring crowd, each of them savoring the quiet moment, and I think, out of all the times I’ve seen Starfury on stage, this has to be my favorite version of him.

In the company of his friends, lifting and supporting each other, Tyril Starfury shines brighter than any star.

“We haven’t talked about what we’re doing after yet,” Starfury admits when I ask him about the future of BLADES after Morella Fest. (Each of the members are also solo artists in their own right, after all.) “But whatever happens at the end of the tour, we’ll always have each other, regardless of whether the band continues or not. I can’t imagine my life without these people now and I hope I never have to.”

He’s smiling as he says this, watching his bandmates fight over the last levenfruit before he excuses himself to join them, Graywater and Ellarious easily making space for him in the dining booth, Volari and Imtura rounding out the little world that now seems completely their own.

-

This article also appears in BLADES: The Most Ambitious Crossover Event in Morella Music History. You can find the full feature on www - kadethebard - com.

-

tagging: @sophie-summer ✨

[tsarinastorm]

Season 7-Adam Sackler/Reader-Chapter 1

This is mostly a Sackler/Reader centric fic, but this is the development I would have liked to see in a Girls Season 7.

Words:3.9K

Rating: Explicit/Mature

               You haven’t even arrived at this “party” yet and you already regret agreeing to show up. You begin to think of an excuse: you have a migraine, you have a writing deadline, some other dire situation that requires your immediate attention has occurred. Before you’re able to settle on one excuse, you receive a text from Hannah telling you that the party is in the back room of the bar, and saying that she’s so excited that you’re going to meet her friends.

               You had met Hannah in a writing group, the two of you bonded over the shared habit of bringing snacks to the meetings, to the annoyance of the other group members. She was one of your first and only friends in the city. You have some friends from undergrad and grad school who live in the city, but they were often busy with their own careers and love lives. You couldn’t help but find meeting people in this city of 8 million to be overwhelming. Mostly, you didn’t know how you make real friendships with people who you’d only see occasionally, or where to find people who shared your interests and hobbies.

               You moved to the city six months ago and settled into a classic style apartment in Soho. The apartment was a little bigger than you needed but was a steal because it was being sold by a couple who was in the middle of a divorce and wanted to screw the other over. You’ve authored several books ranging from modern fiction, horror, and a crime/thriller series, which had recently been picked up by a streaming service for a television show. You made enough to make it in New York, but you did some ghostwriting on the side to supplement since you invested your earnings in the apartment. You didn’t feel like you belonged in New York yet, perhaps you’ll be always be the same small town girl no matter how long you’re in the city.

You talked yourself into going to the party because you needed more friends and needed to enjoy the city. Plus, it was to celebrate Hannah’s new article being published. As a fellow writer you understood the struggles to get published and the triumph when you finally do get published. So you put on a little black dress that was neither too dressy nor too casual, told her you’d be there in a few minutes, and headed on the train to Brooklyn. You then grab a cab and head towards Hannah’s party.

               Your cab pulls up around the front, and you make your way into the bar. You’ve figured out that if you feel uncomfortable, you can get a few free drinks and then head out, no big deal. There are signs that point towards the Horvath Party, you casually walk, following the signs until you see Hannah in one of the rooms. Hannah waves and motions for you come towards her.

“Hey, Y/N! I’m so happy you could make it! I’m sure you’ll have a great time and I know you’ll get along with my friends.”

“Thanks for inviting me, Hannah. Congrats again on getting your piece published. It’s always worth the work in the end. Where’s Grover?” You ask as you see several people coming up to you and Hannah. Hannah answers as she hugs an excited brunette who just walked in, “Grover is with the sitter tonight. His Mommy needed a break. But I am texting every half-hour to make sure he’s alright.”

“You deserve a night off, I’m sure he’ll be just fine.” You say as the brunette turns to you. Hannah gestures between the two of you and the other girl as she begins the introductions.

“Y/N, this is my friend Shoshanna, or Shosh for short. Shosh, this is Y/N, the friend I told you about from my writing group.”

               Shosh hugs you and says, “Oh my gosh, it’s so nice to finally meet you. Hannah has told us so much about you and I’ve read you’re books. They’re good, like, really good. I don’t even typically like horror, but I liked yours.”

“Thank you so much! I’ve heard a lot about you too! I love your outfit.”

“The code word is apple for free drinks. But keep it quiet so people don’t take our free drinks. We didn’t pay for everyone.” Hannah adds as she goes to greet another person.

               You and Shosh have spent the last forty-minutes talking about fashion, and travel. Now she was happily giving you the “appropriate” details of her honeymoon. Shosh was super nice and easy to talk to, no wonder she had been friends with Hannah for so long.  When you came back from the bar with your vodka soda, Hannah was talking to another brunette, one less excited than Shosh.

“Marnie, this is Y/N from my writing group. Y/N this is my best friend Marnie.”

“You’re the successful singer/song-writer, right?”

“Yes, only somewhat successful, but yes. By the way, I love your dress, Y/N!”

“I think its super cool that you can sing and put words to music. I have no musical talent whatsoever.”

“Really? You’re such a good writer. How long have you been in the city?”

“Only six months so I’m still figuring it all out.”

“We can totally show you where the best places are, and what to do.” Shosh adds excitedly.

“We should all hang out together sometime. We’re all young, attractive, successful women who should support each other.” Marnie says as she begins telling you the best places to shop, to eat, and to hang out.

“I appreciate it, thank you. I definitely we should hang out. Do you guys ever do brunch?”

“Yeah, I know this place that has the best mimosas.” Marnie says, then Shosh quickly adds, “We should totally go tomorrow morning, you know to help us recover from tonight.”

“Tomorrow would work for me.”

“I’m making the reservation now.” Marnie says while she types into her phone.

“That sounds great, I’m looking forward to it.  Who can turn down a good mimosa,” You say as you notice a very attractive man walk into the room, while the trio of friends continue to chatter amongst themselves. He’s tall with dark, wavy hair and broad shoulders. You immediately lock eyes with him, and smile, he smiles back. You then realize that you’ve totally zoned out of the conversation and finished your drink in record time. So much for playing it cool.

“I need another drink, I’ll be back.”

               ***********************************************************************

               Adam makes his way into the room. He doesn’t know why he’s even there. He and Hannah have been over for some time, and yeah, they were “friends” but why was here when he can’t stand her other friends. He had changed so much since the last time he was subjected to Hannah’s friends, would it be different this time? At least this time, he was free of Jessa that should keep the rest of them from being too hostile. And now, he had a successful run in a production of Machination at St. Anne’s, which lead to the casting director giving him the lead in an adaptation of The Beautiful and The Damned. He had a number of auditions coming up, even a few for Broadway again. He also has a theater friend who wants to turn his short film into a stage play. For the first time in a long time, his life was coming together not falling apart. Except for his love life, as always. He had ended the romantic relationship with Jessa not long after returning to her after being rejected by Hannah. He realized he was looking for something more, something he hadn’t had with Jessa, and something he hadn’t had with Hannah either. But Jessa still comes around, she seems determined not to let him go. So he lets Jessa stay sometimes, because she is a good fuck and he doesn’t have time to find another fuck buddy.

               Then he sees her. She’s the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen, and she looks amazing in that little black dress. Though he’s sure she’d look even better out of that little black dress. Down boy, he thinks to himself, he has to save that for later. But now, be cool. Her eyes lock with his, and she smiles at him. He can’t help but smile back.

“Hey Adam! Good to see you here,” Adam turns and sees the voice behind the comment that takes him out of his trance. It’s Ray and he’s definitely looking at her too. Adam doesn’t like the idea of Ray talking to his woman, or looking at his woman, even if she’s not his woman yet. She will be, he’ll see to that.

“Hey Ray, nice to see you too,” Adam manages to sound normal, not too eager or irritated. He looks for her again, but she’s gone. Oh no, she couldn’t have left yet. Not before he had got her number. He’s so desperate in his search for her, that he doesn’t even notice that Ray’s walked away and Hannah has come up beside him.

“I’m so glad you could make it,” Hannah says as she pulls him into an awkward hug. He hugs her back but his eyes still look through the room for his woman. Then he spots her, over at the bar. Now, he just has to get over to her.

“So this is none of my business, but are you and Jessa still a thing?” Of course, Hannah goes straight to the question he doesn’t want to answer, and takes the conversation straight to the person he’d prefer not to think about. He finally answers in the best way he knows how.

“There is no relationship but we still sometimes see each other.”

“You still see each other. I’m not stupid, I know what that means, and it means you still fuck.” Hannah puts her hands on her hips, clearly judging him before continuing, “Does that make you happy? Because believe it or not, you deserve to be happy too.”

               He keeps his eyes on her, his her. Hannah’s talking again before her previous statement has a chance to really sink in.

“By the way, that woman you’re ogling is Y/N, my friend from my writing group. She’s a writer like me. But a very successful one. You should go talk to her. I can’t guarantee that you’re her type, or that she won’t throw her drink on you, but go for it.”

“Really? You sure? She is your friend.” Adam says even though his mind is already made up. He is going to talk to her whether Hannah accepts it or not. But it would be better if Hannah does accept it. He doesn’t want another cold war like the one that happened when he and Jessa hooked up.

“I’m sure. I think she’d be good for you, and that you two might work.” Hannah says and gives him a genuine smile. She then pushes him in the direction of the bar.

                  You order a Malibu Bay Breeze, made up of Malibu rum, cranberry juice, and pineapple juice. Normally that’s the drink you prefer but the vodka soda is slightly better to stave off dehydration and hangover. But now, you feel nervous because you see him make his way towards you and you need the comfort of your favorite drink. He sits down beside you and you turn to look at him.

“Hello, stranger. You know when I’m in a place like this, I can’t help but I feel like I’m in a bad, modern adaptation of a Fitzgerald novel. I’m Y/N”

“Hello beautiful stranger, I’m Adam. I agree, I feel like that at least once a day since I’ve been in New York. But I do find it to be missing Fitzgerald’s wit and introspection. I was worried you managed to sneak out before I got to talk to you.”

“I’m glad you understood the reference, you’d be amazed at the number of people who don’t. Most of them look at me like I have three heads. I’m not going anywhere for a while, I just made my way over to the bar. Do you want a drink? If you’re nice, maybe it’ll even be on me.”

“A seltzer water. I have a degree in comp lit and I’m actor who does mostly stage so I have to understand literary comments. I actually just finished a part in an adaptation of The Beautiful and the Damned”

“Ha, well you know what they say about actors. I’m a writer. Okay, now I have a question: if you could work with any playwright, living or dead, who would it be?” You ask him with a smile on your face. You’re can’t hide your genuine curiosity. He seems like an intellectual guy, well-read, artistic, and clearly a bit offbeat. Those things make you to know his answer.

“Chekhov, he was a truly master of theater. Or Arthur Miller.” He says, confidently taking a swig of his seltzer water, “does that answer suit you?”

“It does. I prefer the Russian greats.  So how do you know Hannah?”

“I’ve known Hannah for years. What about you?” he says the last part in a singsong voice. You can’t help but laugh at his goofy behavior.

“Hannah and I are in the same writing group. She’s one of the first friends I’ve made in the city.”

               You spend the next hour or so (maybe it was longer, you lost track of time) talking about your favorite writers, movies, and awkward moments. Turns out, you have pretty much the same taste in books and film, and you find your eyes tearing up from laughter at some of his stories. His stories are accompanied by full body movements and voice changes, of course. Adam talks about his family, you learn he has a niece that he calls Sample because she’s sample-sized and she was named after his exes. He teases you for being an only child. You can’t remember the last time you enjoyed someone’s company this much. He was interesting, intense, and slightly strange. Nothing at all like your type, and maybe that’s why you liked him. Or maybe it was because you felt he’d give the deep connection and passion you’d always craved. You notice he’s still only drinking seltzer, and you’re on your fourth drink.

“Are you sure you don’t want a real drink? Or are you being a DD?”

“I actually don’t drink. I’ve had a drinking problem in the past so I completely avoid it, and I still go to AA.”

“I’m glad you saw you had a problem and got help. That’s a hard thing to do.” You tell him as you reach out and gently put your hand on his forearm. He looks deep into your eyes, and leans into your touch.

“How long have you been sober?”

“10 years. I started going to AA when I was seventeen.” He says and his rich amber eyes look sad. He looks like he expects you to reject him.

“Well, I’m sorry that it started so early. If you ever need somebody to talk to, here, I’ll give you my number” you say and hold out your hand for his phone. He places it in your hand and he chuckles.

“I am the worst person with technology and shit. I’m not the same over the phone. It took me so fucking long to even get an iphone.”

“That’s okay. You’re probably better off without it anyway.” You smile and he smiles back. He puts his hand on your knee. You notice that 1.) his hand is freaking huge, so that means his dick must be big too, and 2.) You really like him touching you, his hand is hot on your cool skin. You feel a physical spark in your lower stomach that you haven’t felt in a long time: pure sexual attraction. You think you could easily take him home tonight, actually that looks like that’s where this is headed. He leans in towards your face, you can’t tell if he’s going to whisper something in your ear, or if he’s going to kiss you. You feel yourself leaning in, drawn like a moth to the light.

               The moment is ruined when a blonde woman throws her arms around his neck, kisses him on the cheek, and positions herself so she’s practically sitting in his lap. She turns to look at you, and you know you must look shocked because it takes you a minute to acknowledge that she’s even speaking. And you notice that she has a British accent.

“Adam, who’s your friend?” She says in a voice that must be her attempt to be sultry. Adam looks uncomfortable and shifts so she’s no longer in his lap, and he’s not even touching her.

“This is Y/N. She’s an author, a good author who’s wrote bestsellers.”

“I’m Jessa, are you friends with Hannah?” the British blonde asks you and you find her gaze very uncomfortable. You take a sip of your drink before answering.

“Yes, I know her from my writing group.”

“Well then, you should know all about me and Adam. He’s the ex, and I’m the friend who stole him. We’re also the ones who made the movie. I’m sure she’s wrote a lot about us.” Jessa says all of that with a smug smile, clearly proud of the mess she’s just created.

“Oh you’re the Adam? The Adam who moved in another girlfriend while she was in Iowa, who dated her friend, didn’t tell her, and then made a movie basically mocking your relationship?!” You practically yell. What the hell is wrong with these people? Why are they all still around each other?

“That’s him. And that’s us.” Jessa says as she nods. You see red. What they did to Hannah was wrong, and here they are acting like it’s nothing. Jessa’s proud of it. And Adam lied to you about who he was knowing you were a friend of Hannah’s. You had a friend who hooked up with your ex, and it stung. Badly. And that was only a one-time hook up, you could only imagine if it had been a full-fledged relationship.

“Where I come from, you tell people the truth, so I’m going to tell you both the truth. You’re both shitty people for doing that to Hannah and acting like it’s nothing.” You say before grabbing your bag and standing up.

“And I hope I never see either of you again. You must deserve each other.”

               Whatever you had felt towards Adam a few minutes ago had utterly dissipated now. You could never be with someone who did all of that to his ex. If he did it to Hannah, he’d likely do it to you, you remind yourself. Additionally, Hannah was your friend, maybe not a best friend, but still a friend and you refused to do that to her. You storm off from the bar, hopefully to find someone who also thinks this situation makes zero sense. You see Shosh and Marnie standing near the stage and you join them. Marnie speaks first,

“I see you had a great conversation with our local gruesome twosome.”

“That may be one of the most fucked up experiences of my life. Or am I crazy?” You say trying to figure out if you’re over-reacting or not.

“No, that is a totally weird situation.” Shosh says and it makes you feel better.

Then you see a man at the bar who looks familiar, it takes a second for you to recognize him. You can feel the blood run from your face. You realize he’s a guy you hooked up with when you first moved to New York. What was his name? You were so intoxicated that night, you can’t even remember his name, only that it started with a B, and you would have preferred him to remain one of your secrets. Especially when you think of everything that happened a few weeks after the hookup. You watch him even though you don’t want to, and you notice that he is wearing a wedding band. That’s just great. He’s married. You hooked up with a married man, or at the very least he would have had to be engaged then.  You feel your face getting hot, and you go outside to get some air. You bump into Hannah.

“Y/N? Are you alright? You looked really freaked out?”

“Yeah, it’s just I ran into one of my drunk one-night-stands. And he’s married. It just really bothers me.”

“Well, it’s okay. You’ll probably never see him again. It’s not your fault, you didn’t know he was married.” Hannah says while rubbing your arms in an effort to calm you. You give her a hug and you head home.

You see Adam and Jessa in the street fighting about something and you turn your head so you can get away without either of them noticing you.

********************************************************************************

You go to brunch with Hannah, Shosh, and Marnie the next day. You’d been so busy adjusting to the city, you had forgot how much you missed your girlfriends back home. The brunch was just what you needed and you learned some gossip. Hannah says that she has a date coming up. Marnie makes it clear after her track record, she’s happy being single for a while. Shosh, of course, gushes over her husband. You even meet Ray, who owns a local coffee place. However, then you’re filled in on his background with Shosh and Marnie. You were finally feeling like you had now friends in the city, and you were pleased with that. But you couldn’t stop thinking Adam, even though you knew you shouldn’t

You’re back in your apartment, looking for something to do. You then decide to look up Adam Sackler. You scroll through the glowing reviews of his latest plays. Then you come across the movie, Disclosure. You debate whether or not to watch it. You give into your curiosity after a few minutes of debate, and hit play. You watch Adam, the real Adam not an actor playing Adam, spank the actress. Again and again. You should not find it as hot as you do. You can feel yourself getting turned on. You should turn off the movie, and go for a run to clear your mind or a cold shower.

But you give in to your body as your hand sneaks into your pants. Your fingers part your folds before settling on your clit. You begin rubbing in circles. That’s not enough, you need it faster, harder. You start adding more pressure and quicken your pace. You start to imagine that your hands are Adam’s hands. It’s not long before you feel your climax building. You moan as you come hard.

When you come back to reality, you realize that you should feel guilty for touching yourself to a movie starring your friend’s ex-boyfriend about their relationship. However, you manage console yourself by reminding yourself that you can touch yourself as long as you don’t cross the physical line with Adam himself, though you know you’ll dream about him touching you tonight.

[enthusiasticmusicalquotes]

QUESTION OF THE DAY #12: What is your opinion on theatre bootlegs? Spill as much or as little tea as you want.

MY ANSWER: it would be incredibly hypocritical of me to say there’s nothing good about them. i discovered a couple of my all time favorite shows through bootlegs, and when i was a high school/college-aged theatre nerd stuck in the midwest (which i still am, just a bit older now), they brought me a lot of comfort that i could relive my favorite shows again. that said, i can understand POVs re: they weren’t filmed with consent from the actors. however, actors who are speaking out against them need to realize that mainstream theatre needs to be made more accessible in one way or another for poor, disabled, and international theatre fans. tldr: bootlegs aren’t going to go away if celebrities disavow them, but theatre might be able to become more accessible if more of them talk on THAT instead of how evil bootlegs are.

SUMMARY OF ANSWERS: out of 41 responses: 21 were an enthusiastic heck yeah, 13 weren’t as enthusiastic but still along the lines of yeah i support them, 3 answers were like eh i can see both sides i guess/leaning towards no, and 4 people outright said nah bootlegs are not the answer. All the answers under the cut!

if you wanna fight or agree with anyone, refer to the # and send in an ask or reply to this.  

also: while i agree with much of what was said under the cut, i will not come out and say which ones i agree with and what i don’t. my opinion is above and that’s all you need to know about what i think. i do not necessarily condone or agree with anything below. okay, enjoy reading.

1. Anonymous said: I may not be the biggest fan, but I totally get why they exist and have watched a few when they pop up

2.  Anonymous said: for the qotd: bootlegs are godsends

3. Anonymous said: oh god i literally just went on a tangent on twitter just now but bootlegs good!!!! people willingly watch blurry footage of a show bcs they want to know what the show is like, want to experience it live. bway shows arent accessable for everyone (due to prices and distance) but ppl still want to know what its like performed on stage. bootlegs literally dont harm the community. ive seen poto boots, proshots and the tour yet id willingly pay 2 watch again. boots make theatre more accessable imo !!

4. Anonymous said: Boots are good to get a glimpse of different productions? Like even despite Proshots existing of certain musicals, I'd still be curious regarding other interpretations of it! And also besides this it definitely helps make shows accessable to people who physically cannot watch the show!

5. galactic-greens said: I truly see no harm in bootlegs as long as they are treated respectfully. While the creation and consumption is technically a crime, it by no means whatsoever makes you a bad person. It's essentially documenting theatre, and ensuring generations to come will be able to experience what could have been so fleeting. They maintain a community, and as long as NFT dates, masters, and general spread of bootlegs are respected then there really can be no problem. It's just a way to immortalize the art!

6. Anonymous said: On bootlegs: oftentimes they’re the only way someone could be able to see a show, because not everyone can afford the tickets or even the cost to just go to New York for a show. However, it should be acknowledged that filming obviously in the actors’ faces is pretty rude, but at the same time bootlegs at least give a chance for people like me to see shows I might never get to see otherwise.

7. Anonymous said: I love bootlegs because I don’t have the means to be able to travel to see shows or afford tickets, i also do theater and i feel like the point of the art is to share it as much as I can

8. Anonymous said: i've never seen a large-scale live show bc they are not accessible to me. bootlegs are amazing. truly glorious.

9.  Anonymous said: i understand that this is a rather unique experience, but i live in nyc, so bootlegs never measure up to the real thing for me. i know that this isn't something everyone can be lucky enough to say, but live theatre could never be captured in the form of a bootleg-- i don't even like released proshots as much as the real thing

10. Anonymous said: for me bootlegs are fine for those who can't see it live because of the price and they are living from another country though i know there are a lot of actors disagrees about it

11. Anonymous said: as someone who can't afford to go to a professional production of anything, absolutely gimme a bootleg. obviously I wouold prefer, like, a proshot of a show and I really hope that becomes more of the norm (I watched the Newsies proshot on Disney+ and had the happy wiggles for hours afterwards, and I can't wait for the Hamilton one to come out) but until that starts happening I'll take a bootleg any day.

12. Anonymous said: I like that it helps people get into fandoms/musicals that they wouldn’t’ve otherwise but I would prefer if theatres professionally films them.

13. maycombhoney said: they will be a part of theatre culture until live theatre is made accessible for more people

14. Anonymous said: bootlegs are great and until the theater community decides to produce pro-shots i’m all for them

15. zoueriemandzijnopmars said: I would personally feel kinda bad for watching bootlegs, because it won’t directly bring money to the people who worked on the show. I don’t judge people who do watch bootlegs though, because let’s face it, bootlegs are not a replacement for actually going to the theatre and it’s not gonna lose the creators actually money. It might even make them money, because people will listen to the album/buy tickets anyway when they can. I’d just personally be more comfortable watching a proshot

16. Anonymous said: I don't pretend bootlegs aren't stealing but whatever harm they do is abstract enough - and my decisions are drop-in-the-bucket enough - that I do it anyway

17. Anonymous said: I’m totally fine with bootlegs. I’ve watched so many of them that it wouldn’t be fair if I wasn’t. The fact is most people just aren’t able to see shows. Either they live too far away or they can’t afford it, and if this is the only way someone can experience a show, it’s better than never seeing it at all

18. Anonymous said: i think bootlegs are important for accessibility but i really wish more theatres would release proshots. i wouldn't even mind if it were after the broadway run or after the original cast is switched out, but i think it's valuable to have those recordings out during the run of the show to get more people interested and actually wanting to go out and see it. plus, if they're worried about money, they wouldn't *have* to be free. just cheaper than tickets and travel.

19. Anonymous said: about the question of the day, honestly i think bootlegs are fine as long as they're done respectfully and the filmers aren't distracting with it

20. locke-writes said: For the question of the day: If there’s absolutely no way I can see the show live or from a professional recording then I’m going to watch a bootleg. Theater should be more accessible and sometimes a bootleg is my only way to access a show. Having been part of film crews who have shot live theater I think a lot of the lack of pro recordings is the idea which that theater is difficult to record. It isn’t. Give me a pro shot show over a bootleg anyday but I’ll take what I can get

21. Anonymous said: My opinion on bootlegs is I prefer professional recordings ONLY because bootleg quality is terrible for my auditory processing problems and I hate the washed out quality. But since professional recordings are rare (unless you are, interestingly enough, Sight & Sound Theatre); for everyone else: BRING ON THE BOOTLEG! ~ Stripe Conlon

22. Anonymous said: Bootlegs are complicated! As a fan/consumer I think they’re okay, especially considering how inaccessible theatre is for people living in other countries, people who can’t afford to experience shows live, and disabled folks. But as someone who also performs, i understand that it can be distracting and legally complicated for actors who are trying to do their best and did not consent to being filmed that night. I just hope that pro shots will become more common.

23. penguinated said: Bootlegs are fine. They don't cost Broadway a thing since people will literally never not pay to see live shows (except during covid of course). and for many people, seeing a certain show with a certain cast will NEVER be possible, so what's the harm in watching the bootleg? The bootlegs aren't the problem, it's the inaccessibility of live theater, ESPECIALLY Broadway shows. If more things were available to stream (i.e. BroadwayHD) there wouldn't be a need for bootlegs. Bootleg away, imo.

24. Anonymous said: until theatre is made accessible to everyone and there is a proshot released for every show, bootlegs are absolutely necessary for the prosperity of theatre

25. Anonymous said: It's so sad that people think bootlegs are necessary! and it's even sadder that in a way they are. however, too many people use them as an excuse to not pursue alternate affordable alternatives for theatre (such as broadway hd, pursuing local shows including high school and college theatre, and utilizing legally free shows online). In addition, bootlegs absolutely CAN be unethically sourced- recordings of locally produced shows can get theaters in trouble and bankrupt them with legal fees. and if you're recording something from Broadway (which is fine imo usually), if you're actually making people PAY for your illegal recording, that's profiting off the work of others and is both very unethical and exploiting the very people many bootleggers claim to work for the benefit of. When it comes to bootlegs, it's one thing to pass around shows that have finished their runs on Broadway for free- but there's too much unethical and even HARMFUL bootleg behavior and it needs to stop.

26. Anonymous said: since Broadway is too rich and doesn't wanna spend money(for some reason) streaming their shows, then bootlegs are the only option.

27. Anonymous said: Theater is so inaccessible that bootlegs are necessary for a lot of people because with a lot of shows you can’t get a good idea of the show just from the soundtrack but people that share nft boots are assholes

28. Anonymous said: Bootlegs do more good than harm. Those against bootlegs are elitist and don't understand some people cant afford hundreds of dollars in theatre and plane tickets. Bootlegs make people crave the live experience more, a dark and shaky video with shit audio doesn't satiate the desire to see a show live. And if the show is closed all the more reason to watch a bootleg!

29. lynntjeeee said: Theatre bootlegs are amazing and are why there are fans. I live in a country with no musical theater (except the occasional sucky original production with a local celeb who can't sing) so if it not for bootlegs I wouldn't be able to watch any shows and wouldn't be a fan (thus not spending money on cast recordings, etc). People need to realise this, bootlegs do not harm the theater, in fact it only helps it. If there were official recordings, there would be many more fans (and thus more profit!)

30. Anonymous said: Opinion on bootlegs: They wouldn't be necessary if the theater industry would get with the times and release professional shots of their shows on streaming services/cable.

31. Anonymous said: I think that people are really overreacting about bootlegs. ESPECIALLY bootlegs if shows that have already closed- you may never get a chance to see that show! Ever! Now there’s an affordable and accessible way to see shows that people would kill and die for. It isn’t losing Broadway money, in fact it is bringing more people into the medium. Maybe if full proshots were more common I would feel differently, but since there is literally no other way, boots are fine.

32. Anonymous said: Bootleg opinion: just go absolutely hog wild. Fuck it. Be gay do crime.

33. Anonymous said: Bootlegs are one of the few things that are keeping me sane right now, plus the fact that not everyone has dat cash money to see the shows live, so yeah they're good stuff (as long as they are available online w/ at least vaguely good sound quality anyway 😆)

34. Anonymous said: I see it both ways. I can understand why those in the profession are against it; it’s their hard work that’s getting pirated. But I’m also poor. I have no access to theatre outside of cast albums and bootlegs. I don’t watch bootlegs because I personally feel guilty, but I will not and do not judge others if they do.

35. whatdoscissorsdo said: I think broadway bootlegs r okay?? eat the rich amirite

36. Anonymous said: I trade and watch bootlegs and don't plan on stopping, but I've recently realized that it must be super uncomfortable for actors to be filmed without their knowledge or consent, or just to have to have on their minds that they might be being recorded at any time in a performance. Like, I've happily watched Many™ Spring Awakening videos in the past year, but I doubt Alexandra Socha is that thrilled knowing there are videos up on YouTube of featuring her nude at age nineteen.

37. i-am-having-an-emotion said: they will remain a necessary evil until theater is more accessible to the masses. seeing real live theater is always better than a boot but literally like 95% of people can’t access live theater, especially at a broadway caliber, so like..... do The Poors not *deserve* theater??? what are we supposed to do BUT make bootlegs?

38. ope-okay said: bootlegs are blessings from heaven and no one can convince me otherwise

39. Anonymous said: I think it can really hype up the want for the musical. And a really good boot release can bring new creations to an otherwise small fandom. Personally I’m more interested in seeing the musicals I’ve seen boots of than the musicals I haven’t

40. Anonymous said: On the topic of bootlegs, I think they’re great but like especially for people who do not have the means to go see the shows during their runs, I feel like if you do have the means to go see the show you should do that instead

41. Anonymous said: I have a REALLY hard time with bootlegs. Because artists deserve to be paid for their work, and there are a whole host of copywriter issues that come with the mass production of a show. In addition though, I understand the anger you feel at not getting to see a show live, however there are so many resources available to help people get the idea of their favorite show even if they never see it. Honestly Wikipedia is my favorite resource, as often that has a full synopsis of the show. I’ll read that and then listen to the recording a bunch so I can understand the story and imagine what it may look like. A lot of shows put clips on YouTube, the Macy’s parade, the Tony Awards, NBC does a whole broadway week, there are so many ways that you can get glimpses into these shows without resorting to bootlegs (which at this point are still illegal) I’m not a supporter of the “theater must be seen live” idea. While I LOVE live theater (and as a performer I like feeding off an audience) but I’ve see shows with just proshots or just the movie version and they are still just as good. Unfortunately I think the only way we’re are going to make theater more accessible to audiences is through time. Bootlegs I think only make people less inclined to record shows and mass produce them. There are a whole lot of legal things that go into that as well. What I can say is what I’ve done. Read up on the show, watch all the clips you can, sometimes scripts are posted online maybe read those, listen to the album, look at pictures. It SUCKS that theater is exclusive, but bootlegs are not the solution.

let me repeat: if you wanna fight or agree with anyone, refer to the # and send in an ask or reply to this post.

[cheriesjubiles]

please don’t look under the read more i’m just testing

Can you imagine a world where we're all represented by a font? Huh, I wonder which one I would be? sees Arial Too straight. No! Not in that way! Just, straight, as in unexciting. sees Badaboom Too.. uh... Deadpool.... BROADWAY! Now that's the one! Now THAT'S the one! Hello Internet, welcome to GAME THEORY, where instead of putting a joke here I want to ask you a question. If your personality were represented by a font, what font would you be? Take a moment and put your font in the comments. I'm really curious to see what everyone has to say. Maybe find a couple new cool fonts to use. I'm getting bored with ol' Calibri 11. And with that out of the way, it's time to talk UNDERTALE. Now I don't think I've ever gotten this many requests to cover a game. Well, except for FNAF. And I suppose FNAF 2. OH and there was FNAF 3. Wait a minute, should I be worried about something here? Anyway, across the board on YouTube, Reddit, and Twitter, you all have wanted Undertale. And honestly, I'm glad you brought it to my attention. True loyal theorists will know that Earthbound is my favorite game of all time. So a self aware RPG in a similar style, WHOA MAN, it's like a gift from the indie gaming heavens. Undertale is a game where every character, from goat mom to grind fodder has a sympathetic design and a unique personality, motivations, goals, fears. Whether you're saving or slaughtering them, the game makes you feel something every time you enter an encounter. But to me, one character stood out amongst all the rest. SANS. A skeleton named after the font, Comic Sans, hence all the font references at the beginning of the episode. If you haven't played Undertale I'm sure that was a really weird opening. ANYWAYS, Sans is, well, there's a lot of mystery around this guy. And before we get into it, let me put up a very special spoiler warning: UNDERTALE is a game best experienced blind. So if you haven't played it, pause the video and come back after you've finished. I PROMISE YOU, I PROMISE you won't regret it. Alright, so everyone out of the pool and ready for the adult swim? Good. Because I'm feeling pretty determined to get to the bottom of Sans' mystery. So just to recap for those of you who haven't played the game and ignored the SPOILER WARNING, or just need a refresher, Sans is one of the two skeletal brothers who appears in the game. His partner is Papyrus, a loud, goofy trap lover also named after a font. But in the world of Undertale their origins are a big question mark. All you really know is what's given to us by a shopkeeper in Snowdin, who explains that Sans and Papyrus, quote, “just showed up one day and asserted themselves.” Weird, right? What's more is that, well, Papyrus is just kinda the goofy sidekick. Sans is much more complex. He likes fart jokes, but he's also incredibly powerful and deadly serious. Not only is his boss battle the hardest in the game, he's one of the only characters who has knowledge and power over space and time. He can take shortcuts around the world through ridiculous routes. Even is walking through walls. He also acknowledges that he's only one of infinite versions of himself, making self-aware commentary of the various timelines that you've played through in the game. He can even count the number of times he's killed you. He acts like an arbiter of this world, passing out judgements on the player's actions in the game, even explaining the secrets of EXP and LOVE, or EXECUTION POINTS and LEVELS OF VIOLENCE, just to clarify. In short, he just doesn't quite fit in with the rest of the world of monsters. But then, what, or who, is he? Well, the idea that he doesn't belong in underworld seems to be correct. The evidence seems to point the fact that he WAS, in fact, formerly a surface dweller. In the true pacifist ending of the game, as the group looks out onto the horizon, Papyrus asks Sans about the giant ball in the sky. Sans says, quote, “we call that the sun.”

This is important because A, the usage of the word WE, and knowledge of the sun shows that Sans has a kinship or knowledge with other humans, and B, that despite he and Papyrus both being skeletons, or, supposedly, brothers, and apparently appeared in underworld at the same time, they clearly-- uuuGGHH take two CLEARLY have two very different histories. Why would Papyrus not know the name of the sun but Sans would? We get further clues to Sans' origins as we hear him say multiple times he wants to "go home" or "go back." He says as much during his dinner date scene at the Mettaton hotel. He notices that the player wants to go home and says, quote, "i know the feeling." He then continues, "maybe sometimes it's better to take what's given to you." As though he ended up in the underworld by accident. AND in a genocide run during his boss fight he says, quote, "look, i gave up trying to go back a long time ago." End quote. And before you say he means going back to the surface world, that's clearly not the full story. His very next line of dialogue is, "and getting to the surface doesn't really appeal anymore either." Key word here, is EITHER. Yes, he seems to hail from the surface and wants to go back, but based on his dialogue he no longer considers it his home. It's as though the surface world he once knew is gone, as though he's from a different time. It's pretty intriguing. So we're left with a being that appeared out of nowhere, presumably from being from the human surface, but from a different time period, who seemingly has the power to teleport. That's a lot of questions and not a lot of answers. But here's where things get REALLY interesting. Sans has a hidden workshop that takes a fair amount of searching to find. You could say it takes a lot of DETERMINATION to unlock. Anyways, obligatory determination references aside, as you start to look for this easter egg Sans gives you a key to his room and says "it's time you learn the truth." After some searching you find the workshop which contains items that leave even more questions. A photo album featuring Sans and a bunch of smiling people you don't recognize, a badge, blueprints with illegible handwriting, and a broken machine hidden behind a curtain. In the latest update, one more detail was added. A handdrawn picture of 3 smiling faces with the words “don't forget.” so what does it all mean? Well a lot of Undertale theorists have been linking these details to a feature to a character named W.D Gaster. A ghostly character who never truly appears in the game. Honestly, covering him is a theory all unto itself, and probably one best saved for another day. Even still, none of the Gaster theories I've seen have been able to explain all the details. In particular, the photo album, and the badge. And that's what kept nagging me as I researched Undertale. A badge? That one in particular really stuck out to me. Why would such an oddly specific item to be hidden in the huge easter egg of a room? Something that supposedly reveals the truth about Sans? Badges just aren't important in Undertale. Then it hit me. What if this badge isn't from Undertale? What if this badge is from a completely different game? And was, in fact, the most important badge in the history of gaming? The Franklin badge. Now, for those of you wondering what I'm talking about, the Franklin badge is a pivotal item from the Mother series. You know, the one with Earthbound. Or, maybe you don't know that one either. Uh, you know, the one with Ness from Super Smash Bros? Yeah well, Ness is from Earthbound, and Earthbound is the second part in this larger Mother trilogy. Alright? Good. Anyway, the Franklin badge is a really important part of that series. It gets its start in the very first game and carries through the whole trilogy, saving your life multiple times in the process. It's SO important that nintendo has made it a staple item in the Smash Brothers series. So I asked myself; what if the badge in Sans' drawer was THAT EXACT badge?

Well first off, it made Undertale connected to my favorite game, thereby making it even COOLER, but that's still a pretty big logical leap. I needed more. Let me tell you, as I started looking, more and more pieces started to fit into place. At the end of Earthbound you're given a photo album, covering your adventures throughout the game. To me it's one of the best, most satisfying endings in gaming to look back on your journey in picture form. And what does Sans happen to have in his other drawer? A photo album with pictures of Sans with people you don't recognize. Of course you don't know them, they're not characters present in Undertale. And note the word that's used here, PEOPLE you don't recognize. Not underworld monsters. So that's 2 items oddly linked to the Mother series. But then, how do the blueprints and broken machine fit in? Well, in the final stretch of Earthbound, Ness and his 3 friends must travel to the past in order to have their final battle against the evil alien Giygas. To do that, Dr. Andonuts (remember him, by the way, he's going to be important later) with the help of the science geniuses Apple Kid and Mr. Saturn, create what's known as the Phase Distorter, a machine that allows people to travel through time and space. Except, it comes with a cost. It can't transport organic material. As a result, the young heroes must put their souls into robotic bodies to use the machine, and thus, save the world. I played this game back in 1997 and I'm not ashamed to admit that when I first saw this scene, I cried. It's DEVASTATING. Doctor Andonuts says goodbye to his son, these characters you've grown to love and care about are suddenly promising to sacrifice their lives. For all they know, there is no possibility of them being able to come back home. It's this incredibly dark departure in the final moments of what was otherwise a fun, quirky, and colorful RPG. So what does all of this have to do with Undertale? A LOT, actually. But the first thing you need to know is that Mr. Saturns are known for their, let's say, unique linguistic style. That would explain the illegible handwriting on the blueprints. And the machine? I think a broken Phase Distorter is behind that curtain. Now that may seem like a stretch, but it actually explains a lot. If Sans wound up in Undertale via Phase Distorter, it could provide a reason for why he's a skeleton. He used the machine as organic matter and suffered the consequences. Not killing him, but turning at least a part of him into a pile of bones. That could also explain why Sans has given up hope for going home. Remember the Phase Distorter is a time machine. By being in underworld, he's not only in a different place, but based on how he talks, he's also in a different time, with no hope of travelling back to the time he came from. But the crossovers between Earthbound and Undertale continue. When you speak to Apple Kid at the end of Earthbound, he's blown away by the astronomical odds of Ness overcoming Giygas, saying that he's going to continue studying the trait called courage, in order to harness its power. Seems awfully similar to the same experiments happening in Undertale around the trait of determination, no? Especially since so much has shown that Sans was a key player in those experiments. But I'm sure you also want physical evidence right? Well don't worry, because I have plenty. During one of the endings of Undertale, we see Undyne and Alphys hanging out on the beach on the surface world. A beach that bears a lot of similarities to the tropical resort location named Summers that you play through in Earthbound. In fact, the geographic layout of the surface bears some striking similarities to the world of Mother. When Undertale's crew of monsters are finally able to reach the surface and look out over the earth, they're met with a beautiful sunset falling across the landscape of a tall mountain, a large city, and a sandy area adjacent to water. Notice the sun's reflection to indicate water, and a lack of trees in this middle section here, hence the sand.

Well, in Earthbound you have the big city of Fourside, complete with skyscrapers, which you reach via a desert that just so happens to be adjacent to some water, and to the east, the mountain in Onett where a meteorite lands on Earth. I always called it Aw-nett. But if that's not clear enough for you, Mother 1, Earthbound Zero, Earthbound Beginnings, whatever you want to call it, it's had a lot of names, had a map laying out the same geographic landscape. A tall mountain to the east of a large city, separated by a desert, with all of it up against a coast. I don't know about you, but to me it seems like there's a definite connection between the world of Eagleland (Eagleland? Again, unclear how its pronounced.) between the world of Eagleland and the surface world of Undertale. But the strongest physical connection, one that definitely unites these two franchises, comes from none other than Papyrus himself. He wears a custom-made costume known as his “battle body”. But if you look really closely at the design on the armor, you'll notice some markings on the chest. Is it just a throwaway detail? Ohoh NO, that right there is an exact match to the ones that appear on the chests of Starmen, the most iconic enemy of Earthbound. And look at the way he stands! I always thought it was awkward until i saw the two characters side by side. Papyrus’ curved arm and hand is a DIRECT match to the curved arms of the Starmen in the Mother series! In short, we have some incredibly strong proof that the Earthbound universe is somehow connected to the Undertale world, which brings us back to our initial question, WHO IS SANS? Well, what if we took it one final step and said that Sans happened to be Ness from Earthbound? Sent through the Phase Distorter during a test of courage, carrying the Franklin badge and his photo album and his trusty backpack. Not only do all the items in the workshop suddenly fit, but so does Sans’ behavior. Remember, Sans can seemingly teleport. And Ness just happens to have the PSI ability to teleport. Now look the way Sans always stands, hands in his pockets, directly facing the camera. It's a very similar stance to how Ness is depicted standing in most marketing for the game. It even explains why Sans bleeds when you finally hit him. He is, or at least, WAS, a human. Oh and finally, Sans is only one letter removed from being an anagram of Ness. That's just a fun one. I thought it was worth mentioning. But if there was any doubt, we have to look no further than the creator's previous work. Toby Fox, the man behind Undertale, had previously worked on a Halloween hack for Earthbound. But this just wasn't a simple reskin. The Halloween hack tells the tale of Dr. Andonuts after the events of Earthbound. Remember, I pointed him out? He's the one who made the Phase Distorter. In Toby Fox’s version of the story, we see that after Giygas' defeat, the souls of the kids never return home. Instead, by going to the past to defeat Giygas, they create a new timeline that they're stuck in. As a result, Jeff never reunites with his father Dr. Andonuts. And Dr. Andonuts goes crazy with guilt, because HE’S the one responsible for creating the time machine, and extracting the souls of his son and his son's friends to send them back to what he assumes was their death. In his mind, he's killed 4 kids. And in Toby Fox's game, he's lost his mind trying to deal with that guilt. I'm telling you, this hack is DARK. that said, you see a lot of Undertale in this game. The appearance of Amalgamates, the first use of the awesome song Megalovania, the prototypes for Flowey? And the theme of having the choice to be nonviolent in an RPG, SPARING your enemies. But then why's all this matter to the theory? Well, remember, in Toby Fox's version of the story, the kids don't come back. They're stuck in the past, with no hopes of getting home. Just like Sans. And, in the hack, one character is oddly missing, with no explanation as to why. NESS. Presumably in this timeline his soul is in a different place than his 3 friends.

In short, Undertale is a continuation of Toby’s version of Earthbound, with Ness never being able to get home, adopting the name Sans, and accompanied by Papyrus, a former Starman, an alien force able to speak English and still equipped with his armor, and signature posture, but without any knowledge of earthly things... like the Sun. The pieces all just seem to fit. Now all we need is an appearance from Pokey/Porky and we’ve got ourselves a true sequel. But hey, that's just a theory. A GAME THEORY! THANKS FOR WATCHING!

[jgroffdaily]

Jonathan Groff decides we should take advantage of what might be New York’s last suitable night for al fresco dining in 2019. He sits down at one of a dozen empty tables outside the otherwise packed Hell’s Kitchen bistro and announces, in a tone suggesting more mischief than regret, that he must first make a call.

"Hello," he says, iPhone now at his ear. "Joel Grey?"

Groff is starring in a limited revival of Little Shop of Horrors, and it is a very hot ticket. The Broadway legend on the other end of the line has apparently thrown a Hail Mary in hopes of scoring seats to the night’s sold-out performance. Hamming up this exchange for my amusement, Groff is game to play broker for the Tony and Oscar winner who originated the role of Cabaret’s tuxedoed emcee — and, maybe, anybody else who has his number.

"This is basically my part-time job," says Groff of fielding requests, jotting down credit card information and negotiating pickup times and locations for friends both famous and civilian. "It was the same thing when I was doing Hamilton," he adds of his year playing King George III in Lin-Manuel Miranda’s hip-hop history lesson. "But I was really only onstage for nine minutes during that show, so the tickets were probably full-time."

The 34-year-old actor seems eager to please, not unlike current alter ego Seymour. Little Shop’s nebbish, sweet and ultimately doomed florist nurtures a manipulative plant even as the pet’s homicidal tendencies grow more and more apparent. Those familiar with the campy musical comedy know that it suffers no shortage of blood, but it’s a nursery rhyme compared with Groff’s recent work on truecrime thriller Mindhunter. Playing a curious FBI agent in David Fincher’s Netflix series has perhaps done more for his ascendant profile than anything yet. But two seasons on the drama have meant two nine-month stints in Pittsburgh, filming interrogation scenes with character actors who bear uncanny resemblances to famous serial killers.

So even on a two-show day like this late- October Saturday, the rigors of theater are easy work for Groff. Over a couple of hot toddies, in between humoring three smitten waiters at the restaurant at which he’s been a regular since Little Shop went into previews down the block, the actor appears to be in his element. "Theater is such a communal, familial medium and interactive experience," notes Groff, who says he recognizes faces in the crowd during most performances. "Mindhunter, for me at least, is a very private experience."

Groff plays against type on Mindhunter. Wide-eyed with an almost perpetual grin, his is a mug you wouldn’t be surprised to find in an illustrated Merriam-Webster — cozied up to the entry for "baby face." Much of his previous acting career leaned into this, starting with his breakout. The Pennsylvania native came to New York at 19 and landed the lead in the musical Spring Awakening by the time he was 21. "I was just auditioning for the ensemble of Broadway shows," says Groff. "I hadn’t really developed the taste to appreciate something like Spring Awakening until I was in it."

New York’s "It" Broadway show of the aughts, the rock opera about sexual discovery among 19th century German teenagers earned Groff his first Tony nomination. He spent two years in the production before leaving in 2008, at the same time as friend and co-star Lea Michele, to pursue film and television. The work that immediately followed — Ang Lee’s Taking Woodstock, a recurring spin on Michele’s Fox hit Glee, a supporting role in the second season of Kelsey Grammer’s cult drama Boss, voicework in Disney $1.3 billion smash Frozen (he’ll reprise his role as Kristoff in Frozen 2, out Nov. 22) — got him on the radar for vehicles of his own. When HBO began casting Looking, its 2014 dramedy about a group of gay friends navigating an evolving San Francisco, Groff was soon tapped to front the series.

"He will search for the best version of every scene and will work until everyone drops," says Looking executive producer Andrew Haigh, who cast him as Patrick — boy-nextdoor- ish, like the actor, but privileged and problematically fickle. "He is also wholly unafraid to be vulnerable onscreen."

Looking lasted for only two seasons and a wrap-up movie, and its premature demise allowed Groff to do Hamilton, which he joined while the show was off-Broadway in early 2015, and then made the jump to Broadway. His supporting part as the aforementioned royal — with interstitial lamentations for the seceding Colonies, sung like a lovelorn (and supremely pissed) Davy Jones — earned Groff his second Tony nomination. But Groff wasn’t long for Hamilton, either. He was circling his next TV project, a moody prestige procedural about the early days of the FBI’s Behavioral Science Unit, based on the 1995 memoir Mindhunter by criminal profiler John E. Douglas.

"I’m not naturally a true-crime person. So reading the book, I was like … 'oh, fuck,' "says Groff of John E. Douglas’ memoir 'Mindhunter.'

Mindhunter, the book and the series, delves into the morbid minutiae of notorious murder cases with an emphasis on interviews between law enforcement and criminals in the late 1970s and early 1980s. Groff was in contention for the role of FBI agent Holden Ford, based loosely on Douglas. First, he had to prove to director and executive producer Fincher — a filmmaker long admired by Groff, who says he has "a boner for his brain" — that a jovial Broadway star most widely known for singing with a reindeer in a Disney cartoon could have the upper hand with serial killers.

It was not Groff’s first audition for Fincher. Seven years earlier, he was in the running to play Napster co-founder Sean Parker in The Social Network. "My agents said, 'You have an audition in L.A. with David and Aaron Sorkin,' " Groff recalls. "If you get it, you start rehearsal the next day, so pack your suitcase for two months. They really like your tape, but they’re also considering Justin Timberlake." The part went to Timberlake.

"I did not feel then — and still don’t — that he had the inherent venality for that role," Fincher says of Groff. "He is as decent and sensitive as anyone I’ve ever met."

If venality is off the table for Groff, darkness is not. And though casting the song-anddance man was a source of curiosity for some in Hollywood before Mindhunter’s 2017 debut, the finished product didn’t elicit any skepticism from critics. Over the first season, Groff’s character goes from eager, milkdrinking company boy to a shell of the man introduced in the first episode. He alarms colleagues with the way he mirrors serial killers, until he has a panic attack after getting a bear hug from a necrophile. The second run, equally well reviewed after its August debut, saw a somewhat recovered Holden sit down with Charles Manson and, for the dramatic fulcrum of the season, investigate the Atlanta child murders of 1979-81.

"It is so impossibly bleak that I don’t think about it while I’m doing it," says Groff, who confesses he finds watching the show more affecting than making it. "All due respect to people who feel like the character is inside of them or whatever, but I don’t have that. I would leave set, listen to Beyoncé, and that was it."

After an hour and a half in his company, Groff reveals himself as a Lucille Ball historian, an avid bike rider, a devout New Yorker and someone who doesn’t seem easily bummed out — except when the conversation turns to success. His excitement over landing Mindhunter, he says, was immediately diluted by a pang of sadness. "Whenever something really great happens, it makes me feel a little bit depressed," he says. "It’s like, this is never going to get better than this moment right now. I’m sitting in David Fincher’s office and he’s giving me this role."

Talk of a third season of Mindhunter is on hold while Fincher focuses on his next feature. But the director did take a recent break from Mank, a biopic on Citizen Kane screenwriter Herman Mankiewicz, to attend Groff’s first Little Shop matinee with wife and fellow Mindhunter executive producer Céan Chaffin. It was a surprise appearance, but only because Groff hadn’t been checking his text messages. "I’m not good at my phone," he admits.

Groff has not looked at his phone since that one call — which, while polite, now has him in danger of running late for curtain. He breaks the bad news of his immediate departure to one particularly adoring waiter, and we walk to the stand where his bike is locked. There, he pulls from his bag a cobalt helmet that could double as Tron cosplay. Bars of blinding LED lights on both its front and back, his headgear tells cabs to get the hell out of the way and signals to everybody else that this is a man who values safety over subtlety.

"Yeah, I do really love riding my bike in the city … I’m just not that hard-core," Groff says of the helmet before encasing his tousle of sandy chestnut hair for the one-block ride to the theater and an expectant Joel Grey. "My mom bought this for me."

[erikahenningsen]

My 15 favorite theater experiences of 2019

In no particular order:

1. Choir Boy (Samuel Friedman Theatre, New York, NY): I say in no particular order, but if you know anything about me, you know that Choir Boy is my number-one show of the year. I saw it four times on Broadway and twice in Boston. Tarell Alvin McCraney’s writing is so beautiful, human, and fearless. He puts works of art on stages, television, and film that nobody else does. Jeremy Pope’s performance as Pharus is easily in the top three greatest performances I’ve seen on a Broadway stage. If your local regional theater is doing this show, I cannot encourage you enough to go and see it.

2. What the Constitution Means to Me (Helen Hayes Theater, New York, NY): This show was unlike any other play I’ve seen before. Heidi Schreck, who wrote and starred in WTCMTM, wrote a deeply human, poignant, and timely play about a document written by a bunch of rich, white men a few centuries ago and made it gripping, engaging, and relevant. It’s a show I believe every American should see. As an added bonus, Heidi is genuinely one of the kindest people I’ve met.

3. The Wrong Man (MCC Theater, New York, NY): I saw The Wrong Man for the first time three weeks before it closed, and I immediately fell in love with it and went back several more times in those three weeks. The Wrong Man is only ninety minutes long and has only three main characters, but it presents an engaging story about forgiveness, mercy, justice, guilt, and innocence. Ross Golan, the composer/lyricist, began performing The Wrong Man as a concept album thirteen years ago and turned it into a full musical. The score is beautiful and has some really great bops, and the choreography is probably the best I’ve ever seen.

4. Waitress with Sara Bareilles and Gavin Creel (Brooks Atkinson Theatre, New York, NY): I’m personally not the biggest fan of Waitress, but this was one of the most fun nights I had in a theater this year. Sara and Gavin had amazing chemistry, and I have never laughed so much at Waitress before. 

5. A Strange Loop (Playwrights Horizons, New York, NY): A Strange Loop is unlike any show I’ve ever seen before. It’s unlike anything anyone has seen before. How many shows center around a fat, black, queer character? I can’t think of any. Michael R. Jackson, the book writer/composer/lyricist, has an incredible ability to write satire that has you laughing at the same time you’re being punched in the face emotionally. A Strange Loop grapples with the intersections of racism, homophobia, and fatphobia. It’s meta at the same time it’s grounded, and gets more and more intense as the show progresses. I walked out of the theater in a daze after I saw it. My fingers are crossed it comes to Broadway.

5. Mean Girls, Taylor Louderman’s last show (August Wilson Theatre, New York, NY): Going to Mean Girls is a routine thing for me, and I’ve seen the show dozens of times, but every once in awhile something special happens that reignites my love for this show. Taylor’s last show was obviously incredibly sad for me, the cast, and everyone who loves this show, but I also laughed more and harder on this evening than I have in a very long time at Mean Girls. Everyone, especially Taylor, was giving this performance their all, and I’ll never forget it.

6. The Secret Life of Bees (Atlantic Theater Company, New York, NY): I had suspicions I was really going to love this show before I saw it, but I absolutely fell in love with it. The music is gorgeous (thank you, Duncan Sheik), the performances are stellar, and the story, though set decades ago, is as timely and relevant as ever. I do cry at shows pretty often, but rarely do I tear up because of how overwhelmingly beautiful a show is—but I did that at Secret Life of Bees. I’m still impatiently waiting on that Broadway transfer announcement.

7. Beetlejuice (Winter Garden Theatre, New York, NY): Despite all its flaws, I love this crazy, loud, obnoxious, wild show so much. I had seen it in DC and counted down the days until first preview on Broadway. I rushed first preview and ended up with front-row tickets, and I had one of the most fun nights in a theater I’ve ever had. The performances really make the show, and I’ve been very vocal about how I strongly believe Leslie Kritzer was snubbed by the Tonys. Beetlejuice also has my favorite scenic design for any show. I also have a uniquely personal connection to this showL Beetlejuice used to have a joke in the show I felt was offensive, so I reached out to Eddie Perfect and Alex Timbers and explained to them why I was hurt by it, and they actually listened to my feedback and removed the joke. I’m hoping Beetlejuice can find another home after June, because I’m not ready to say goodbye yet.

8. Next to Normal (Ground Floor Theatre/Deaf Austin Theatre, Austin, TX): For years I had been wanting an ASL production of Next to Normal with Sandra Mae Frank as Natalie, so when it actually happened I knew I had to fly to Texas to see it. I don’t think I’ve ever cried more at a show. Sandy made me look at Natalie in a whole new way, and the ASL interpretations of the lyrics added so many new layers to the show. Megg Rose, the Deaf actor who played Diana, gave one of the best performances I’ve seen, and I want her to be on Broadway immediately. This production really was a dream come true for me. 

9. Six (Chicago Shakespeare Theater, Chicago, IL): We drove to Chicago from NYC to see Six, and it was definitely worth it. I was in the front row for the first time I saw it, which was a terrifying but incredibly fun experience. This cast is so incredibly talented, and the show is so much fun, and being there with almost all of my closest friends was such a memorable experience. I’m so excited to see it again when it comes to Broadway.

10. Little Shop of Horrors (Westside Theatre, New York, NY): This was my first experience seeing LSOH, and I had an absolute blast. The performances were incredible, with Christian Borle being just off-the-wall crazy. I haven’t laughed that much at a show in awhile. The Audrey II puppets are fantastic, and what they’ve done with the scenic design in such a small space is amazing. I’m excited to see it again with Gideon Glick.

11. Indecent (Huntington Theatre Company, Boston, MA): Indecent is and always will be my favorite play, and I’m so incredibly grateful I got to see it again in Boston. Huntington recreated the Broadway production with many of the original cast members, and it was such a special show. I never thought I’d see that production again live, and Huntington gave me such an incredible gift with this play. 

12. Freestyle Love Supreme (Booth Theatre, New York, NY): FLS is just fun from start to finish. It’s completely improvised with special unannounced guests every night, so it’s different every time you see it. I loved seeing how they made the show more inclusive between Off-Broadway and Broadway (by asking people their pronouns, for example), and I have a blast every time. 

13. Ain’t Too Proud - The Life and Times of the Temptations (Imperial Theatre, New York, NY): I saw Ain’t Too Proud mostly for Jeremy Pope, and I was so pleasantly surprised by how much I genuinely loved the show. Derrick Baskin is one of the most hardworking performers on Broadway—he literally does not leave the stage. The choreography is so much fun, and each person in the cast is so incredibly talented. It’s also one of the most pleasant stage doors I’ve ever experienced; everyone at the stage door just really genuinely wants to congratulate and thank the performers, and the actors are so kind. 

14. Teeth (National Alliance for Musical Theatre Festival, New York, NY): It’s wild even to me that I’m putting a staged partial reading on this list, but that’s how good Teeth was. I spent the entire time laughing, and the songs are constantly stuck in my head. Everyone at the festival was talking about how much they loved the show, so I’m hopeful there will be a full production of it sometime soon.

15. Slave Play (John Golden Theatre, New York, NY): It’s hard to talk about Slave Play because it transcends descriptors like “good” or “bad.” Slave Play is important. It’s complex. It’s necessarily provocative. And it’s shaken up Broadway like no show has in recent memory. It’s a show I think every American adult should see. I haven’t stopped thinking about it since I saw it. It only runs for a couple more weeks, and if you haven’t seen it, you need to. 

[jessica-doom]

Draco had trust issues. He was prone to jealousy and could be, admittedly, a bit psychotic. He was definitely also a clueless git. He had issues believing anyone could love him for the person he was. He had issues. That was the plain and simple of it. And those issues caused likely irreparable problems.

"Do you ever even listen to me?"

It wasn't the shouting or raised voice that caused Draco to flinch. It wasn't the fact that his eardrums were ringing or that spit flecked his face. It was the words. It was the pure hate hiding behind them. It was the way they made him feel deep in that crevice where the jealousy and the issues and the problems lived. He flinched because he felt those words hit him right at the center of everything. And he felt that center feasting on the one good thing he had left in his life – tainting it until it was something he no longer recognized.

It wasn't until he registered the slamming of the front door that Draco fully realized he'd lost the fight. And, potentially, more. With that door closed so resolutely between them, he'd lost the chance to plead his case. To defend himself and swear up and down that he did listen. Of course he listened.

How could he not listen when passion laced every breath Harry Potter ever spoke? How could he not want to train his eyes on those lips, memorizing every syllable that passed through them? Even when the words were nothing but drunken babble, they were still laced with everything Amortentia smelled like.

There really was no telling if Harry was ever going to come back. He had no real reason to.

One of his jumpers was still in Draco's wardrobe, but that was something he could probably live without. Even if Draco couldn't because it reminded him of the night they both slipped on ice while coming home from the market. It reminded him of the deep red blush on Harry's face as they watched cans of soup roll out into traffic. It reminded him of the dopey smile on that man's face as he tried to gather the rest of the food, shoving it in the pockets of the jumper. It reminded him of that deep-bellied laugh Draco earned when he tried to 'help' by loading up the hood with now-bruised apples.

Harry had a toothbrush by the bathroom sink, as well. It was green – an intentional choice made by Draco. The green of the man's eyes was ingrained behind his own closed lids like a permanent background to his everyday thoughts. The bristles of the brush were fanning out, flattening from vigilant use. At first Draco had found it insulting that Harry would always go for the toothbrush after they'd been intimate. It felt like he was trying to scrub clean some sort of dirty feeling Draco left within him. But the longer time stretched on and the more he saw the ritual, the more comfort it instilled within him personally. He would lie back in his bed, fresh with their mingled musk, watching it unfold through the open door while his mouth watered for the minty kiss that would soon follow when Harry climbed back in beside him. Nuzzling into him like there was nowhere else he would rather be.

The only other notable thing Harry left in the small, cramped flat was the ghost of himself. Every crack and corner of Draco's home was filled with the memory of the man he had come to love more than anything he could remember even dreaming for his life. Memories of where he'd sat, where they'd shagged, where they'd sunk to the floor in the kitchen and just…talked about absolutely nothing and everything all at once. Draco couldn't even grab a mug from the cupboard without some wanton thought pushing its way into his mind.

Draco didn't know if Harry was ever coming back. He didn't know if he was ever going to get a second chance. And he would rightly deserve it if he didn't. He had always been and would likely always be at least a bit of a prick. It was coded into his genetics. But he was trying. He was trying so. Damn. Hard. He'd never tried harder at anything he'd ever done than to be the kind of person Harry Potter could be proud of.

"He's probably not coming back," Draco muttered. The universe had been hanging in a precarious balance since the two of them even thought about dating. Just tipped enough to allow a glimpse into a reality that should never exist. Just enough for a taste. Just enough for Draco to get his fill of 'what if's and 'maybe's. Just enough for him to taste it and crave more.

All before everything tilted back to normal and everything he'd grown comfortable in was ripped from his grasp.

"For Salazar's sake, Malfoy, stop being so dramatic," he countered with and pushed up from his collapsed state on the sofa. "If he comes back then fine. Fine. If he doesn't…. You'll deal with it. But if he comes back…." If Harry Potter decided Draco Malfoy was miraculously still worth his time, Draco wanted to show him everything. Everything. And he wanted it to be perfect. So to fill that growing, consuming void inside, Draco set himself to work.

It was nearing on midnight when Draco finally heard the knock on his door. The weight of an entire bottle of merlot made him reluctant to answer at all. But his hard work nagged at him and he honestly didn't know if he would get another chance if he screwed this one up. Swaying just a bit, he pulled the door open and tried to very casually lean in the doorway. The wine in his bloodstream, however, skewed his execution. Instead of leaning, he practically fell against the frame. Massaging his shoulder with a mild blush, he found it rather difficult to meet Harry's waiting eyes.

"You're drunk."

With mild confidence and a bitten back smirk, Draco pulled in the familiar stench of Canadian whisky. "As are you…." With just the inkling of an upturned lip, Draco chanced a glance upward. Harry wasn't smiling and a second later neither was he. "Why'd you come back?"

Harry shrugged, his body language matching his fixed frown. "We didn't finish our fight."

"You finished," Draco said slowly, stepping back to allow the other entrance into his flat. "Will you allow me the chance to have my say?" Neither of them would have been humbled enough to allow this sober. That was likely a red flag they were both pointedly ignoring. But since they were both rather gone, Harry stepped in with a proud nod and Draco slowly closed the door behind him. His nerves were dancing, even though he had been working towards this moment for hours. "It took several warming charms, but I think everything is still ready," he muttered, trying to funnel Harry toward the dining table.

"I'm…I'm not really hungry?" Harry replied, looking absolutely confused even as he settled into a chair. On the table were no less than ten plates of food all covered in magical bubbles. "Your side of our fights doesn't usually come with a menu."

Sitting as far across the table from Harry as possible, Draco reached into the center and poked the bubble covering one of the dishes. It dissipated with a flashy billow of smoke, filling the room with the butteriness of hot water crust pastry. "I'm not fighting. Not really. The only fighting I plan to do is for you, I suppose…." Again, if he had been sober, such corny words would never have come out of his mouth. "Pie and mash from Broadway Market."

For a moment, Harry merely blinked. His mouth flapped open and closed, but he didn't take his eyes from the platter. "Why?" was all he could say and even that barely squeaked out through obvious emotion.

Draco's merlot-slicked lips finally quirked into a comfortable smile. "Because I listen, Potter. When you were young, your aunt and uncle couldn't get anyone to watch you for one of their long weekend trips to London, so they had to take you along. For lunch one of those days, you all went to Broadway Market and as a joke, your cousin made you eat pie and mash without telling you what it was. You ended up being allergic to eel. It was an eventful trip, to say the least."

"So you listened to one of my sad childhood stories. Am I supposed to give you some sort of prize for that?"

With how badly he'd messed up, Draco wasn't really expecting it to be that easy. But the crass way in which Harry spoke still stung. Sighing softly, he reached out and popped another bubble. "Treacle tart."

"Everybody knows it's my favorite dessert."

"But does everybody know you ate two entire tarts on your twentieth birthday? Or that you vomited it all up after getting sloshed on shit vodka?" Harry stayed silent, probably running through his mind whether that was public knowledge or not. Taking advantage of the silence, Draco continued on as he continued to pop more bubbles. "I know you don't like peanut butter because it gives you gas. And I know you think the white parts of candy canes taste better for some reason. I know you lost your virginity to the little Weasette shortly after she graduated and afterward you cried in the bathroom with an entire pack of Walker's because that was supposed to be the one easy thing in your life and even that wasn't right. I know your favorite foods and your favorite brand of toilet tissue. And I know you hate the Prophet with your life even though you still read it every morning – but only because I pay for a subscription anyway.

"I knew about your promotion. And I knew about the ceremony. I know you wanted me to be there. I also know that absolutely everyone who is important at the Ministry was also going to be there. And that all of those people do not like me or the fact that we're dating. I know all of this because I listen to you. And I know…that if I had gone to that ceremony, everything would have become about me…when it should have been about you. So that's why I didn't go. Not because I don't listen to you, Harry, but because I was trying to be…nice. Or considerate.

"I listen to you. It's important to me that you know that."

Harry's face remained stoic. He didn't flinch past the initial confusion and Draco was honestly certain he might not care. That his being here might just be a matter of drunken circumstance. Their whole relationship started off as such. Harry never would have given Draco a chance in the first place if it hadn't been for the pliant effects of alcohol. It only seemed fitting that alcohol should be there for the end of them, too.

The silence stretched on too long. Long enough that Draco just didn't think he could stand it any longer. And that was humiliating. Deciding to call it – his grand gesture being nothing more than a fruitless effort – he stood, chair legs screeching on the wood floor and echoing the turmoil he wanted to scream out. He couldn't find the words any longer. All he could muster was the will to walk past Harry, saying goodbye to the best thing in his life with a casual swipe of his fingers through the man's ever-messy hair.

"I love you, too, Draco."

That happy smile pushed itself back onto Draco's face before he could even think about stopping it. And all he wanted for the rest of his life was to listen to this man say those words over and over again.

[uncivilengineering]

What Kind of Two Years Has it Been

At the end of an experience, and therefore a blog, I usually write a reflection on the experience. The Master's programme ended six years ago and due to life and procrastination and other excuses, I'm finishing this blog only now. But this delay has its advantages, because I know how the story ends and I can tell you what happened to the characters. So maybe, for the first time, this is truly an epilogue.

The journey to this program started in 2012. I was living in Germany and working as a consultant. I always knew I wanted to work first before continuing with any kind of education, because toward the end of undergrad, I had classes with grad students and the ones who had work experience before going back to school seemed to bring more to the experience from applying what they learned from the real world. As I researched Master's programmes, I focused my search in Europe because I was still paying off the loans for my Bachelor's degree. I Googled another program when the MIND programme turned up in the results. After a process of applying, obtaining references, phone interviews and traveling to Munich from Stuttgart to take the GRE in Germany (really), even though this is Europe, the choice came down to Humboldt University in Berlin, with a scholarship from the DAAD, and the MIND programme, with a scholarship from the European Commission. (Lappeenranta University of Technology in Finland takes a close third because I had a really, really pleasant scholarship interview with a very pleasant young man and sometimes I think about how my life might be different if I went there and studied Innovation Management instead.)

I'm sure there was a long decision process and I'm sure I spent a lot of time thinking about it, like most decisions. This all took place eight years ago and I cannot remember the salient details. But I can imagine that I felt like it was time to leave Germany, even though I love (LOVE) Berlin, and the appeal of having an adventure in two countries (I didn't yet know that Asia was on the table) was great. So I gave notice at the consulting firm, said goodbye to my friends in Stuttgart, (wrapped up my last performances as a roller skating Greek muse in the local military base's production of Xanadu - that's real) and moved to Sweden.

In the two years that ensued, I met the best people, took wild risks, had the best time, made my dreams come true and had the adventure I sought. I lived.

I lived in Sweden for a year and was inspired by their example of how to treat guests in your country. I had a job interview in a sauna in the winter and learned what gender equality in society might actually look like. After an application process, I had the opportunity to spend a semester in Thailand. In Thailand I learned how to get from the university to town (Bangkok) and back again. I hosted a cultural show that lasted for eight (or more?) hours. I felt closer to my mom than I had ever understood before. C pointed out that after the midterm exams, I have sat for exams on three continents. I celebrated my birthday at a German brewery in Bangkok. I saw Angkor Wat after the semester ended. I went to all the Disneylands in the world (at the time...back then, there were only 11 parks). I didn't stay long in Austria, but I was there long enough to experience a Buschenschank and run into visa problems. I also saw Carousel and Cabaret in German, and puzzled as to why it was an hour longer than Cabaret in English, which I saw soon after on Broadway. In Glendale I lived in a conference room turned into an ad hoc intern bullpen for four and a half months writing my thesis. I saw things I had been nearby my entire life but never dreamed of seeing in reality.

Blogs are cheesy and navel-gazey but I am glad I did it. I am glad that this and the Germany Part I blogs exist. Sometimes I will look at an old post because someone asked for a travel recommendation (for example), and I will discover something that I forgot. I didn't remember that I was contacted by Swedish public radio to talk about the 2012 United States election. I forgot I had this conversation at NASA JPL about living in Germany. So what's the moral of this paragraph? If you can't blog, at least journal. You think you will remember the exciting things that happen in your day to day life but the truth is, you won't. I am proof!

What happened to everyone? Some stayed in Europe. Some went home. Some went home in Europe. Some got married. Some had babies. Some moved to Amsterdam. Many stayed in Sweden. When I left C, she wanted to stay in Italy. She has since worked her way up to an awesome job at a major company and had a baby! A has moved and is engaged to be married! I was happy to attend C's wedding in Ankara in 2015. I was happy to attend Z's wedding in Czechia last year, and to see my friends again at both.

What happened to me? I accepted an internship in Florida where I spent about five years (and made a bunch of new friends and had a bunch of good times) before moving back to the country where I left when this all started. To be honest, I never expected to be back. Not in this country. In 2017, I was fortunate to attend my class reunion in Leiden; it was also the celebration of the closing of the program. They invited all alumni back to watch the last class graudate. I met the newest generations of the program and saw a lot of old friends. It was just like old times. I came to the first afternoon of the organized program. I thought we would observe the new kids doing their work. No. We kicked off with a case exercise and divided into groups to discuss and then present our results. Our groups consisted of current students, alumni, professors and mentors. In Europe, we are all equal. It was just like old times.

The rest of the program consisted of lectures, discussions and watching the final presentations of the graduating class. Before I left for this trip, I joked that my master programme was ending because it lost funding (truth) from the European Commission because of Brexit (also true but I didn't realize it until I got there and they confirmed that Brexit was one of the factors that cut funding to the programme). There was a party the final evening. In the way that we do. I remember telling all my friends that it would be a very long time before I will see them again. I couldn't foresee an immediate excuse to get to Europe and hang out with them. The day I returned to work in Florida from the trip, I received an email about joining a project that is based in Germany. If I chose to accept this mission, I would have to move to Germany for a period of time. What.

I learned later that, basically, someone found out that I know German. (I promise that I have other skills.) When I was in high school, if you told me I was going to move to Germany, I would have said that you're crazy. I was just this nerd who went to Space Camp and really liked The West Wing and Saturday Night Live. If you told me I was going to move to Germany twice, I would have said, "Then why did I spend all this time learning Spanish?" (among other questions) I know that's true, because I did ask myself that in the first two months of intensive language school in 2010. But the truth is, Germany made things happen for me. When I talk to young people who (for some reason) ask for my advice, in addition to telling them to "follow your dreams," I also tell them the story of how moving to Germany (the first time) changed my life. (And then I tell them why so they know I'm not exaggerating.)

I couldn't refuse. I'm back in Germany. I'm working on getting better at German.

I should have seen this coming. The fall I moved to Sweden in 2012, I came back to Germany to celebrate Thanksgiving. During my Swedish spring, the squad from Germany came to visit Sweden and I put in my tea and hairspray requests (from dm, of course). After my thesis defense in 2014, my first destination was Nuremberg to see E, then on to Quakenbrück to wait with C who was finishing her defense. I attended S's wedding in Leipzig in 2015. I went to Oktoberfest in Munich in 2016. The point is, I cannot stay away from Germany. This is evident and not a surprise.

So far, I have been fortunate that this opportunity has allowed me to meet up with so many friends. A and M are in Amsterdam and have introduced me to Y and T, who are also in the MIND network. S is back in Oslo from Thailand. A is in London. S has moved from Stuttgart to Berlin. A and P and B and K and E are in New York. I still cite the meal in Haarlem (note that's Haarlem in the Netherlands, not Harlem, but I can see why you might be confused because I just mentioned New York) as the best I've ever had and J told me that the restaurant has received a Michelin star since 2014 when we were there so now it's overpriced and overrated. So funny! At Z's wedding in Czechia last year I was happy to reconnect with A, B and M. Everyone else, I'm coming for you! (And I mean that in the creepy way!)

What's going to happen next? Let's find out! Thank you for reading and joining the adventure.

Good night, have a pleasant tomorrow and see you in the future!

Lauren

[therachelperspective]

BOOKS | Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? (And Other Concerns)

[[&]]  Why Not Me? by Mindy Kaling

For reasons unbeknownst to me, I’ve always liked Mindy Kaling. I didn’t watch the American version of The Office (I know, what is WRONG with me?!)... I would sometimes watch The Mindy Project reruns in the middle of the night many years ago... but not once would I say that I actually followed her career enough to take interest in her memoirs. But alas, I liked Mindy and I found myself with her memoirs on my bookshelves. Thanks to this ever so lovely situation the world has found itself in, I’ve finally made it around to reading them (along with many others that have been lingering in my TBR pile).

At first, I was going to write about Mindy’s books separately as I would a normal review on here, but after finishing them both, I think writing about them together is really for the best. They are such extensions of each other, of which I would probably make the same commentary about them both anyway. So their discussions here are joint. 

When I started Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me?, my hopes were high. I even jotted down a note that, forty pages in, so much of what she has discussed has been similar or has outright matched some of my same experiences and I loved it. And really, that statement did hold true for both IEHOWM? (it’s such a long title, you guys!) and Why Not Me? – I finally found a celebrity that I can say I really relate to, who shared the same struggles and exploits as me in our young adult lives. Furthermore, I also wrote a note saying that Mindy has a unique humor in both her acting and this (her first) book that I enjoyed. Plus, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t love the adorable photos of baby Mindy scattered throughout EIHOWM.

But I think, sadly, everything was short-lived.

I completely understand that Mindy’s career is rooted in comedy and that’s how she built a name for herself. In her early years, she and a friend created and starred in their own Off-Broadway production (about Ben Affleck and Matt Damon, no less) that gained quite the audience during its run. She then became a writer for The Office, then a star of the The Office, and well... so on and so forth, the rest is history. But I read non-fiction novels to learn more about people and his/her inner thoughts amidst stories of their life. That did happen with Mindy, but those peeks into her childhood, teens, and twenties were scattered throughout some pretty unnecessary chapters and what I perceive to be Mindy trying too hard to be funny. If I wanted fictitious ramblings, I would have just read a fiction novel. Not once did I feel that, for example, an entire chapter about fictional revenge stories that she concocts during her workouts had a place in her first book. Nor did I feel a good chunk of the second novel required fabricated emails (that were waaayyyy too thought out) between her and her imaginary coworkers she created had she lived another life and hypothetically become a Latin teacher at a private school. And – though it is known that I love a good list – she also included list upon list about the most random of topics (i.e. in IEHOWM? she included two pages worth of different iterations and levels of “chubby” people. Yeah Mindy is bigger than the average actress, but come on). In my mind, these books would have been a lot shorter had all the bullshit been removed. During Why Not Me? I literally wrote down the fact that, at some point during both of these books, I made it a point to read more quickly/more often, just to get them over with.

What became even more disappointing to me as I continued to read through these books was that... much of Mindy’s view of “comedy” was actually in poor taste. Granted these books were published in 2011 and 2015 respectively, and maybe had I read them back then I would have flew right past some of her commentary without a second glance. But in the here and now, in 2020, a lot of her comedic jabs left a bad taste in my mouth. In IEHOWM?, during a discussion about the people in New York City, while I find it perfectly fine that she says most people “function daily while in a low grade depression” because that’s at least mildly true, thirty-something pages later she makes a comment about how people with depression are “boring” and “tedious to deal with.” Maybe I didn’t enjoy this because I myself deal with some level of depression and always have a fear that I’m bothering people... but regardless, I still would not find those statements in the least bit comical. To further illustrate, when Mindy was on a “Curvy Celebs We Adore!” list and was smaller than the others included, she called the other female celebrities “porkers” and in more or less terms said how dare she be lumped in with these women on a list. And lastly, in a chapter about her characteristic requests for a boyfriend, she says she thinks she should date an older man, because they are more secure and have the immaturity out of their systems. She then, however, continues by saying that she doesn’t care if that man has kids, as long as those kids are away at college and (direct quote) “his wife is dead.” I believe my literal thoughts here were “WTF?!?!?!?!?!?” and I just really... lost interest, but continued reading just to finish the book (thankfully this was towards the end). Don’t even get me started on that Dartmouth’s 2018 commencement speech she gave, included in Why Not Me?

Despite everything I just said... I still enjoy Mindy, I do. I just can’t bring myself to fully disregard her. Even though she is roughly a size 8 to 10, she is still a better visual representation of the average woman in her roles that viewers find more relatable (though she made another ridiculous comment in Why Not Me? about how she does try to conform to societal norms of beauty but she just isn’t successful at it). Likewise, the character of Mindy Lahiri also does so much to showcase a professionally successful woman (and even more, a woman of color) at the helm of The Mindy Project. All of this is similarly what Mindy herself does as a whole in the industry – she is praised comedienne in (let’s face it) what has always been a male dominated field. It is because of her depictions and stature, as well as the undeniable similarities in our life narratives, that I can’t help but maintain a fondness for Mindy Kaling. Now it’s just... slightly subdued.

I have pages of quotes that prove that she does scatter her novels with solid advice and insight. But on paper, I mostly find that Mindy tries too hard and blabbers too much for my palate. There’s being funny, and then there’s taking it too far. Maybe because I read them back to back, it was just all beyond me. I just had a hard time getting past some of it. So they’re just another set of books that finally made their way out of the TBR pile and into “try and sell online for spare cash” pile. It is what it is.

[peggysousfan]

Agent Carter An Au Series

Soooo you know that thing I said about making these chapters shorter... that was a lie lol Its actually the longest by far,3000+ words, but episode 1 is almost done with. It is very angsty, so you have been warned, but there is some fluff thrown in there. Enjoy!!

Peggys' POV:

The next morning I wake the same as yesterday, only a little earlier. I get up and shower, nurse poppet and get ready for work. Colleen is still ill, so shes still asleep. I leave her a note to make sure she eats and to drink some water. As I leave the building I see Daniel. Hes already down stairs, most likely heading to work.

"Daniel!" He stops in his tracks and turns around.

"Hey! You're up early. I thought you weren't meant to be at the office till 9?"

"Yes, I know, but I have to drop the little one off. I can't exactly take her to work with me." He laughs, and it seems like music to my ears... Stop, Peggy. Not now. "Uhm, wh-what are you doing up so early? Do you have to in the office at 8?" He chuckles.

"Uh, no I was just gonna go get a bite to eat."

"Oh."

"Do you want to join me?" I look at Stephanie, and then at him.

"How far is it from here?"

"Just up the road, I was headed to the Automat."

"Oh, well thats not far at all. I can always drop Steph off afterwards." He nods his head and smiles. We makes our way there and Angie comes to our table.

"Hey, English! Whos this you got with ya?" I laugh.

"Good Morning, Angie. This is Daniel a ...friend of mine. And this is Stephanie." As to announce her presence she starts cooing and giggling. I hesitate on friends, but I don't know why. We are friends, but I suppose I may want to be more...No. Peggy, stop. Stop. Right now.

"Awww shes so precious!!!" After a few moments of admiring the baby, she takes our orders. Once she leaves Steph begs for Daniel and starts to fuss for him. Which isn't the first time either. Once when Daniel was at work, she went the whole day crying and only settled down once she was held by him. Shes so attached, its absolutely adorable.

"Aww, come here little anjo." I hand her over to him and I can't help myself but to ask.

"What does that mean, Daniel? anjo?" He looks down at the baby, with an embarrassed smile on his face.

"Sorry I didn't realize I was... It means angel, in Portuguese."

"Oh theres no need to apologize, I was only curious. You say certain words to her or about her and I never understood them." He furrows his brow and I explain. "Well anjo, for starters, and then... linda..?" He laughs and its so contagious.

"Its not what you think. Linda isn't meant as in, thats her name. It means beautiful." I smile brightly at him as Steph starts giggling again and plays with his tie. When our food arrives we eat, but all to soon we finish. "Okay, I better head to the office before they saying anything." I nod my head and embrace him. I reach over and fix his tie. "Oh oops, I forgot she did that."

"Sorry, it was bothering me." We laugh. "I'll see you at work." When I drop off poppet, I head to the office and its busy. Everyone is working on finding Howard, and I'm not entirety sure if I want them to. Selling weapons to enemy states is not something he would do. But its not as if I can talk to him and ask for his side of the story. The whole day is filled with nothing but 'Carter file these reports' or "Carter get the lunch orders ready' or 'hey sweetheart the coffee needs to be refilled'. Ugh, I'm not a bloody secretary, I'm a federal Agent and should be treated as such. Imbeciles. I leave the office and take dinner orders for those staying late, then I return and have sometime to myself. I miss Steph, but I could use some time away from the pig headed men at working and a crying baby.  I read the paper as I sit in my booth. There a picture of Steve, and an article about Howard.

"I met him once at a USO show in Passaic, you could eat him with a spoon." A shiver runs down my spine at that thought. No thank you, Angie, you can keep him.

"Yes, I understand he was quite something." I put down the paper and look at my tea. Quite an arse, more like...

"You alright English?"

"Fine Angie, just work."

"Fellas at the phone company giving you a hard time?" She asks, understand exactly what its like to be put down by her own colleges.

"No more than usual, it just... during the war I had a sense of purpose, responsibility.  But now It feels like I'm connecting the call but I never get the chance to make them. Do you see what I mean?" She looks around and then sits across from me.

"I had an audition today, uptown, Took two trains and  they gave me the hook. I guess I ain't. But we all gotta pay our dues. Even if it takes a while. You've got talent, its only a matter of time before Broadway call."

"I'm afraid I can't carry a tune," I say carrying on our little metaphor.

"Doesn't matter when you got legs like yours." And I laugh. A man starts to complain and be a real wanker, apparently hes a regular customer, and he treats Angie horrible. Ugh, men. Angie leaves and I get up to get a slice of pie. When I return theres a note 'Meet in the Alley in 5 minutes' Odd. I eat my pie and head out the back door. When I do, I'm confronted by a man in a hat, it turns out to be Jarvis; but hes not alone. A car revs its engine and I run, but when I reach a door, its locked. I pull out my gun and shoot the tire; and out pops Howard.

"I know, I should've called. Did ya miss me?" Oh this oaf is going t be the death of me. Jarvis changes the tire, and we ride away to the docks.

Howard explains he had a vault that was broken into, and someone cleaned out all of his deadly inventions. He asks me to spy for him, to catch the person who stole his weapons, and clear his name.

"Howard, you're asking me to become a traitor in order to prove you're not one, you do see the irony?"

"Oh c'mon on, Peg. I know they're not using you right over there." Well hes not wrong. God I hate it when hes right. "You want a mission that matter, this is it. My technology in the hands of the next nut that wants to be the new Red Skull... You have no idea how bad that could be. And right now, you're the only one who can stop that." I look over at him, and already know I'm in over my head, but none the less he is my friend. We get out of the car and walk on the docks. "Some of them have already been sold overseas, thats where I'm going. But the rest are here somewhere, and thats where you come in. Rumor is one of the nasty ones is hitting the black market in the next day or two."

"What is it?"

"Just a piece of paper. My formula for molecular nitromene. This much could level a city block." He takes my hand and balls it in a fist. "And I'm not talking small ones, I'm talking avenues."

"I'm going to regret this aren't I?" He says I will and tells me about Jarvis.

"I owe ya one, pal." We hug and he gets on the boat. "There are only a dozen fences that can handle something this hot, and you just gotta learn which one... and I figured, you'd have no trouble finding a man."

"The trick is finding the right one." He drives away and Jarvis takes me to my daughter. Once I have her, I head home and get some rest.

The Next Day:

Peggy's POV:

I wake up early in the morning, same as yesterday, and do my morning routine. I can't wait until this weekend, Ill keep my promise to Howard, but I won't neglect time with my daughter. Here lately shes been very vocal, and I know its too early, but I fell as if shes trying to say her first word. My only fear is that I may never hear it because I'm working... Balancing motherhood and work is a real pain in the arse. I nurse her her breakfast and lay her down. Since Colleen is home, she has offered to take care of her while I'm at work.

"Try and not work too hard, Peg." I kiss Stephanie's cheek one last time before giving her to Colleen.

"I won't I promise. Now you two get some rest. I'll be back before I'm gone." And with that I leave. When I enter the office, I notice Daniel, and he has a set of photos of Howard, one with him on a boat; oh no. Oh I don't want to do this. I swear if my relationship with Daniel is harmed in anyway because of Howard, I'm going to kill him.

"You know you are expect to go home at night." I say. He looks at me confused and then chuckles.

"I know, but most fugitive cases are solved within the fist 72 hours. And with Stark on the sailing into the sunset, maybe this is where it starts." Hes really invested in this case. I know its only to impress the Chief and make his worth known, but God I wish it wasn't this case. I say what I can to throw Daniel off of Howard's trail. I tell him Howard hates they water, and about the time I knocked him into the Thames because he tried to kiss me on VE Day. Soon I notice Thompson and others rushing to the conference room, they've had a small break on one of Howard's inventions.

"Somethings up."

"Yeah, Thompson's working on his next medal. Got word of a fence trying to sell one of Stark's inventions. Club owner named Spider Ramon."

"Wheres it happening?"

"Need to know only. Kind of gives you a warm feeling, doesn't it." How can I get into that private meeting, and withdraw information without them knowing...? I have an Idea.

"Can I get you a refill?" I quickly grab Daniels mug and rush to get the coffee pot. I try to shake of the electricity running through my hand where we touched. I give him his refill off of a tray.

"Uhmmm.. Thanks?" I give him a small smile and head into the room.

I look over at a file while filling up the cups, when suddenly the chief speaks. I tell him I'm unwell, and that its 'lady's things', Oh its so amusing to see grown men squirm. I take the rest of the day off and go shopping and then head home. I quickly hide the bag with the dress and wig, before Colleen sees. When I enter, I see shes asleep, and so is Steph. Oh my little one. I pick her up and she snuggles against my chest. I kiss the top of her curly brown head and let her rest against me. I read more on Spider Ramon and his club, and after a while, she squirms around, so I let her look at the files. Shes so interested in words, its quite amusing.

Before I know it, night has fallen. I nurse her and lay her back down then I get ready to leave. She didn't eat much, Colleen must have fed her earlier. As I enter the club, its bustling with music, dancers, cocktails, and photographers. Damn. I hide my face as I make my way through. A man come up to me and asks for a dance, but I turn him down. Then I notice a man head up stairs, and a bodyguard below. Thats where I need to go. I persuade the man to let me pass and I put on my Sweet Dream lipstick, just in case. I knock on the door and peek in.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Ramon, is this a bad time?" I ask in a perfect American accent.

"We'll only know after its over. Bring the rest of you in here." He says as he sets down a book.

"I hope you don't find me forward."

"Oh I'm not the judgmental type."I enter the room and try to play calm and innocent, admiring small things on the desk after, I close the side doors.

"I know you're in possession of a certain chemical formula." He drops his collective, flirty, act and gets defensive, and tries to send me away. "Its okay, lets make this a game. You seem like you might like games." I sit on the edge of his desk. I tell him I have some fiends who would be interested in buying it, and he goes along with it. I sit on his lap and go along with my story, asking if he has it on him.Instead of answering, he gets flirty and kisses me. Someone opens the door but closes again, apparently not wanting to 'disturb' his boss. Raymond falls back in the chair, knocked out. "Well that was premature."I look around the room and find a safe. When I use my watch to crack it, I see a small glowing orb inside. Oh no... I hurry and call Jarvis.

"Jarvis residence."

"They've weaponized it." I say plainly. I'm sort of in a hurry here, Mr. Jarvis.

"Ms. Carter?"

"Do you know anyone else handling high explosives at this time of night?" I snap.

Basically, if anything touches the core or gives it a small crack, boom. Lovely. I hurry along and place it in my bag.  I have to create a cocktail of sodium hydrogen acetate to deactivate it. If I don't its likely to explode and kill hundreds. Delightful, just delightful. As I get ready to leave, the man comes back and sees his boss passed out.

"What?" He starts to come in and advance at me, but I stop him. I take a stapler form the table and drag him into a closet. Dammit. Thompson and the others are already here. I find the man that had approached me before, and danced to keep the Agents from seeing me. Quickly I leave and head home.

"Peg? Is that you?" Damn I quickly throw off the wig and enter the room.

"Hey. I just changed Steph and she went right back to sleep. Shes does that a lot when you're not around." I smile at her and see how pale she is.

"How are you feeling?"

"A little better, still have a fever though.."

"I'll make you some tea." I walk over to the stove and set the water to boil in the kettle.

"Wow, Peg, you look like a million bucks. Wait... Did you go out, out?"

"In a manner of speaking." I walk closer.

"Wow, I'm really proud of you. I want you to tell me all about it, in the morning." She turns over and goes back to sleep, poor girl. I peek at poppet before changing, grabbing everything I need for the sodium hydrogen acetate, and then head to the bathroom with the bomb. If any harm overcomes to my child, I'll come back from the dead and haunt Howard to the end of his days. I mix up the solution and poor out my perfume, and replace it. As I pull out the core, it hits she shell. Bloody hell. I rush and spray it before it blows. Thankfully its diffused. I put everything under the sink and breath a sigh. I get ready to take a drink of whiskey, that is, until I hear a crash.

"Colleen?" I get up and hurry into the room. "Colleen." I rush over to the bed and pull back the covers, and I stop dead in my tracks. A bullet hole is lodged in the middle of her forehead. No...no no no!! I look around and see Stephanie, and shes starting to cry. Cautious I glance at my surroundings, and I see him, right behind me in the mirror. I quickly turn around and kick him in the groin, but the guns goes off. Thank God it didn't hit the baby, but  it was only by a few feet. Now I'm pissed. I take the gun and hit him right upside the head. Advancing further I grab his arm and upper cut his face. Stephanie is now sobbing her little heart out. For a second I'm distracted, and he takes advantage. He punches me, and I fall back, then pushes me into the wall. He tries to punch me again, but I open the fridge door and he hits it instead. With his forearm on my throat I grab at him, and notice a scar on his throat. Odd...

I elbow him on the side of his head, and take advantage. We twist and turn, and he grabs my arm and holds my head above the stove's flame. Steph is now sobbing, no doubt waking everyone in the building. I gather up my strength and kick him in the chin and force his hand into the flame. He releases an attempted scream while I take an iron skillet and hit him. He falls back and advances with a knife. Luckily I use the skillet and prevent my stomach from being sliced. Poppet continues to scream and he looks at her with a menacing smirk. Oh I don't think so! I hit him again and again and toss him out the window. When I look down, hes gone. Dammit. I rush over to the baby and pick her up to sooth her. "Shhhh... Shhhh... Its alright my love." I bounce her up and down, and then notice Colleen. I starts to cry myself and sit on the bed. This wasn't suppose to happen. I'm so caught up in my own sobbing, and Steph's, that I don't hear the door being knocked on; or it opening.

"Peg!" Daniel rushes over to me and places a hand on my cheek. "Peggy whats wro-" He stops and notices Colleen. "Oh my God..." I look away from her and hold my little girl close to me. This could have been her, and it almost was...At this thought, I only cry harder. He doesn't ask what happened, instead he holds me tight and takes us to his apartment. He takes me to his room and I lie down with Stephanie. I can't believe I almost lost her....I look into Daniels eyes as he stands at the door.  I grab for his hand and he takes it, and hes the last thing I see before I fall asleep.

[parkersharthook]

All My Sides Ch. 3

(Peter Parker x female!reader)

warnings: tension, stupid decisions, kidnapping

3.5k+ words

Ch 2

“Spider-man… I have something you want.”

Peter’s blood ran cold as the video panned over to Y/n who continued to hold her head high despite the fear in her eyes. She had a bruise forming around her right eye and blood spotted on her bottom lip. Her wrists were bound behind her back and her feet were tied to the chair she was currently sitting in. There was a gag in her mouth. Peter sprung to his feet, running to get his suit on immediately.

“Spider-man… this is a live video that is playing on every news station and screen available. Every billboard in Times Square, every phone in civilians’ hands, every radio and TV station… they will see your beloved Y/n Y/l/n die if you don’t listen to every instruction I give.” Peter watched on the TV in his room as Dr. Connors appeared with a sinister grin. “Meet me in Time Square in thirty minutes or…” he glanced back to Y/n, “well you can guess.”

“Mr. Parker, Sir is calling you.”

“Decline.” Peter’s voice came out rough and gritted as he pulled on his civilian clothes over his Spiderman suit and shoved his mask into his backpack. He slung it over his shoulder and sprinted down the steps of the tall tower, and continued running the short distance to Times Square. He saw the hordes of people stopped and staring at the billboards and then to the sky as numerous avengers began to appear in the sky overhead. Peter pulled up his hood and dropped his head. He knew what Dr. Connors was looking for, and if he let Y/n get hurt due to his stupidity… he would never let himself live it down.

The mad scientist came back onto the screen, “I’m glad you followed my orders Spider-man. But I see you didn’t show up as you… I’m proud. You remembered our little game. Citizens of New York!” His voice bellowed out of every speaker nearby, “We’ve been missing a certain web slinger for the past week. No one knew why, until now. Our friendly neighborhood Spiderman,” he spat out every word, “has lost his powers.” Gasps rippled through the crowd.

He continued, “He is just an ordinary boy. But this is no ordinary girl, you see. This is Y/n y/l/n. Not only is she the daughter of former police captain but she has a special relationship with Spidey. And if he doesn’t cooperate then at 6:30 pm her body will be dropped from the bell tower of St. Margaret’s church. You know the one.” Y/n’s eyes filled with terror and her body tensed against its restraints. “So… Spidey. You know where to meet me. It’s where we first met. Just you and me. You have twenty minutes.”

Peter could still see the avengers with the ability of flight soaring through the sky scanning the people below them. They were looking for him, trying to stop him from doing something stupid. He noticed Sam tuck his wings and turn tightly around, heading towards the large church in search of Y/n. Peter shook his head and fell into the crowd of people. He knew that Y/n wouldn’t be there. He quickened his steps as he walked towards what might be the place of his demise. He had shit to do.

~.~

“Can anyone see him?” Tony barked out from his spot above the pointing crowd

“Nothing.” Bucky muttered as he pushed through the crowd.

“He should be here!” Steve growled out into the comms.

“That guy said that this was a game.” Wanda stated, looking down back alleys for him. “They’ve done this before.”

“So Peter’s not here?”

“He said that Spiderman showed up but not as ‘him’.” Natasha muttered and then it clicked, “he’s not out as Spiderman.”

“Fuck.” Steve muttered, “We’re never going to find him.” He turned his head towards the sky as Sam began to fly back in, “Sam?”

“She’s not there. Nobody is.”

“It’s a game guys.” Wanda repeated, heading towards the rendezvous point. “Nothing is going to be straight forward. Stark, don’t you have some kind of tracking on his suit?”

“If he even has the suit…” Tony muttered, “But it’s only activated when he has the mask on.”

“Well we know he’s going to confront this guy either way. We’re just gonna have to wait.” Sam suggested.

“Not gonna happen.” Bucky growled out.

“Bucky’s right.” Clint said, “let’s find out everything we can about this guy.”

“We can’t waste time going back and forth between the tower and here.” Natasha met Bucky’s eyes from across the crowd and nodded slightly. “Meet me and Bucky on the corner of Broadway and 7th. I have a plan.”

~.~

“Seriously guys?” Tony said with a raised eyebrow as he stepped through the doorway into the small apartment. Natasha rolled her eyes and walked to a small linen closet.

“We don’t tell you everything Stark.”

Tony sat down in an office chair and spun around slowly, “but maybe you should.”

Wanda picked up a throw pillow with a small smirk, “it’s cute.”

Bucky fought back a groan, “don’t make us regret this.”

Clint folded his arms and leaned against the wall, “so what’s the point of this. Why are we here?”

Natasha pulled out 2 large metal briefcases from the closet and set them on the dining room table, “It’s close to times square and St. Margaret. We can use this as a base until we know for sure what is happening. It saves time and energy.”

“We have more resources at the tower.” Tony drawled out in a complain

Steve rolled his eyes, “Natasha has everything we need right here, and I know you have your mobile computer with you. You take it everywhere.”

Tony grumbled under his breath but still pulled out a rectangular device. He flicked it in the open space causing blue holographic projections of the news to appear. Wanda and Clint took a step closer to examine each broadcast and headline. Anything that could give them a clue.

They all worked in silence for a while, trying to solve the mystery when Tony spoke up, “A secret apartment? Really?” Everyone groaned in annoyance, “next thing we know, you’ll be telling us that you two are married.”

Natasha walked by him with a stack of reports. She sent him a devious wink, “maybe we are.” She sat down at the table with the folders and opened them up one by one.

Steve, who had been looking over her shoulder, stopped her movements. “Check out this one.”

“But you guys aren’t… right?” Tony turned to Bucky who was concentrating on the profile of Dr. Connors, “married, I mean.” Bucky glanced up at the older man but offered no answer as he just got back to work.

“What’s important about this one?”

“Look at these.” He spread out the photos of a fight that Spiderman had been in a few years ago.

“What about them?” Wanda asked as she came up to the table. “It’s just Peter fighting a big lizard.”

“Right but look at this one.” Steve repositioned a grainy photo of Peter fighting a large lizard who had a shredded lab coat on his back.

Clint picked up the photo and looked at it closer, “I remember this. It was something with Oscorp before they went out of business. SHIELD try to uncover the details, but everything was pretty much burned to the ground.”

“Gross… Oscorp.” Tony said with an exaggerated gag

“Do you remember anything else about it?” Steve asked Clint. Behind them Bucky’s eyes had widened as he read a particular file sheet.

Clint scratched his head like the old man he was. “I think that this lizard guy was some guy who experimented on himself. Went completely wrong, as they always do. But after the battle with Spiderman he didn’t show up for a while. We assumed he died.”

“Guys…”

“Why hasn’t anyone asked Peter about this?” Wanda asked

“It never came up, I guess.” Natasha supplied

“Guys…”

“Well after all of this is over we need to get more details on this.”

“Agreed.”

“Guys!” everyone turned to Bucky who had grown paler. “The lizard is Dr. Connors.”

“What?”

“Look here.” Bucky showed them all the written report on the scientist, “He was a scientist at Oscorp for years and then he suddenly went off the grid after that incident. He lost an arm from an accident and his main topic of research was regeneration of tissue.”

It clicked for Tony, “he tried to regrow his arm and turned himself into a lizard.”

Wanda furrowed her brows, “please connect the dots.”

Tony swiveled to face her, “lizards have a regenerative property. Dr. Connors probably studied them and mixed their genetic makeup with something else producing a mix of the super soldier, hulk, and Spiderman serum. He injected it into himself and it went wrong.”

“Meaning that he turned into a big ass lizard?” Steve asked, obviously still not convinced.

“Think about it. This doctor guy suddenly disappears after this incident with a large lizard which is the animal he happened to experiment on. Then he suddenly comes back looking for revenge on Spiderman?” Bucky said, “It’s obviously him.”

“Okay but how would he know Peter’s identity? Or his connection to Y/n?”

Wanda smacked her forehead, “Y/n had an internship with Oscorp back in Highschool. She literally worked next to the guy.”

“Okay but Peter and she weren’t dating back then.”

“But they were still friends.” Wanda supplied, “she told me that her and Peter would sometimes meet up for lunch during her break and talk about all this sciencey stuff. Dr. Connors even approached Peter about him working there full time.”

“But he decline because he had an ‘internship’ with Tony Stark.” Natasha supplied. Wanda nodded at her.

“Okay but how does he know that Peter is Spiderman?”

“Ladies and gentlemen! The main act has arrived!” The TV which had not been previously on, switched to life with the live broadcast.

Clint frowned deeply as he stared at the television, “oh shit here we go.”

~.~

Peter froze as the broadcast came over his phone.

“Hello there Spiderman! Still dressed as a civilian I see… good boy.” Dr. Connors’s voice was chilling. He continued on, “I’m proud of you for going where I wanted you to, but you aren’t finished yet.”

“Leave her alone!” Peter’s voice came out rough and hoarse.

“Tsk tsk tsk. Not so impatient young man. But congratulations are in order as you have solved my previous riddle. But alas neither I nor this fair maiden is there.” Peter moved to turn around and walk right back out of the sewer, but Dr. Connors’s voice stopped him. “Awww, don’t leave yet Spidey. In fact, I don’t think you can.” He laugh maniacally, “I have a camera on you right now. You turn around… you reveal who you are.”

Everyone tensed. Everyone in that apartment full of superheroes, everyone on the streets of New York, everyone who had a radio in their car, everyone who was hearing this tightened their muscles.

Natasha, though nervous for the boy, still had her mind in spy mode and took notice that Peter seemed to be in an abandoned subway tunnel.

“He has his backpack.” Wanda whispered, “That means he has his suit.” At least that was some good news.

“But Spiderman you seemed to overlook a few key details. Yes… it is true. I wanted you to end up where you are, but that isn’t where we first met. Think hard, Spidey. You can do it… you’re a smart boy.”

“Why don’t you just reveal my identity now? Why do this? What’s your end game?” Peter called, his back still turned to the camera

“What’s all the fun with that?” he cackled loudly. “You have 30 minutes to get where you need to be. And please… do show up as Spiderman. It’ll just make it that much more dramatic.” The screens went blank and it took a few moments for the shock to wear off.

Peter got moving immediately. He knew exactly where he had to go.

~.~

“Where is he going?” Tony asked in frustration as he slammed down some paper on the table

Steve pressed a finger to his ear, “Sam? Status?”

“Empty.” The voice came back static, but everyone still heard the message. They deflated.

“If he isn’t at the Oscorp building and he isn’t at his apartment, then where could that fucking mad man be?”

Natasha sat in silence, fingers pressed together as she thought over everything. She turned to Bucky who was in a similar position as her, “where did Y/n intern?”

“Oscorp Industries.” Bucky replied stoically.

“Yeah I know that. But where? Which location.”

“What do you mean which location?” Natasha rolled her eyes at her sometimes clueless boyfriend and pulled some papers closer to her. She checked them over once, twice, and then a third time again. Something wasn’t adding up. Click.

She opened her laptop quickly and typed out a quick google search. She let a small smile slip over her lips. “Boy oh boy, are you guys lucky to have me on the team.”

“What do you mean? What did you find?”

Natasha turned her laptop around as everyone crowded around, “The location listed under Y/n’s place of work is the Oscorp in Midtown. But if you go through the records of their listed employees she isn’t listed there.”

“An unpaid intern?” Wanda asked. Natasha shook her head and pulled Dr. Connors’s file closer.

“Look at his. Place of work, same building Red Division.” She pointed to something on her screen, “This Oscorp building was very open to the public. It had tours and interns and schematics online, but as we know Oscorp was into some very shady stuff.”

“They had a secret division with a secret building.” Tony said as he smacked his forehead, “how could we be so stupid?”

“But we would have found out about that when Oscorp fell.” Clint pointed out.

“Not if it was listed under a different name. That Oscorp building was organized into 3 colors or access levels: blue, green, purple. And if Y/n was as high up as she is labeled as, she would be in blue. There is no red.”

“Then where did Connors work?” Wanda asked, studying the file and still not making sense of anything.

“Here.” She typed out a quick search and spun the screen back around towards her teammates.

“Location not found?” Clint gave her a look

“Exactly. It doesn’t exist… anymore.”

“Wait… that address. That seems familiar.”

Bucky looked at the paper, “that’s because it was the Red Line Grocery Market back when we were kids. We worked there for two summers.” he looked up at Natasha, “but the address would still exist.”

“Not if they redid the gridlines in that neighborhood. That grocery store is still in business, bought by one Norman Osborn almost 2 decades ago. They moved locations once the gridlines were redone to a new and upcoming neighborhood… in Queens.”

“How did you even find that out?” Wanda asked somewhat amazed.

Natasha shrugged, “googled red division with Oscorp. The article that the Red Line Market was under new ownership came up. Researched the given address, linked it to its old address and the gridline renewal. Found its current location.”

“So, that’s where he’s hiding Y/n? In a grocery store?’

“Not exactly. A block from that store is a supply warehouse where they keep their inventory. I bet you, that’s where we find them.”

Bucky slowly shook his head, “I don’t doubt that this is all a connection but how on earth would Peter have his first meeting with Connors at this warehouse that no one affiliates with Oscorp?”

“I’m honestly not sure, but we’re gonna find out.”

~.~

Peter took a deep breath and walked through the warehouse doors. He didn’t even remember this place for the longest time, but as he took in his surroundings the memory came flooding back.

“Hey Peter!” Y/n called as she walked down the sidewalk with a new-found energy. Peter spun around, his bag of groceries hanging from his fingers. He smiled widely.

“Hey Y/n! What are you doing down here?”

“My boss sent me to pick up some supplies from the warehouse around the corner. I’m meeting another scientist there.”

Peter chuckled slowly as they fell into a steady rhythm, “no offense but that sounds kind of shady.”

Y/n laughed and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, “I thought so too honestly but a ton of the other interns have been here before and have met this Doctor, so I think everything will be okay.”

“Do you want me to walk you?” Peter suggested lightly, “Just in case?”

Y/n bit her lip and looked up at Peter through her eyelashes, “I’d like that.”

Peter pulled the mask over his face and threw his backpack behind some random shelf. He didn’t really care if he lost this one. “Spiderman!” The loud booming voice came through a set of speakers on the wall. Peter shivered, knowing that the man behind the voice was much closer.

“Welcome everybody! To the final act! This next performance will truly test your precious Spidey’s heroics… if he really is the hero you believe him to be.”

“Let her go!”

“Sorry Spidey… no can do.” his words came out slow and taunting. Peter wanted to punch him in the face. “do you remember?”

“remember what?”

“the first time we met. You stood in front of me, shook my hand, smiled, worked beside me.”

Peter shook his head and frowned, “I wish I never met you.”

“hey now. Don’t say anything that you’ll regret.” He stepped out of the shadows, crazed look in his eye. He cocked his head to the side and smirked, “words hurt you know.”

“Where is Y/n?”

He clicked his tongue, “oh don’t worry… I’ve been taking very good care of her.”

~.~

“Guys! Guys!” Wanda yelled loudly pulling everyone out of their heads. “he’s back on.”

Bucky leaned against the back of the couch as he stared at the TV, “well Nat he looks like he’s in a warehouse.”

“And you’re surprised because?” She smirked as she loaded a gun and slipped it into her thigh holster. “Now what are you waiting for? Let’s go get our boy.”

~.~

Connors pointed his finger at Peter and stepped towards a large door, “follow me Spiderman, I’ll take you to her.” Peter took a hesitant step forward as Connors whirled around to face him again, “oh by the way you’re still being broadcasted. Say hello to New York!” He waved his hand excitedly into the air.

“Dr. Connors, you’re sick. You’re not stable.” Peter said calmly and slowly

Connors’s eye twitched and he shook slightly, “I’m fine! But your girl won’t be if you continue like this.” he breath heavily, “now… follow me.”

“Dr. Connors, you know me. You know Y/n. You don’t want to hurt us, and I don’t want to hurt you.” He raised his hands steadying them. His web shooters pointed directly at the man.

He cackled maniacally, “You think that I know you can’t handle your web shooters? You have no powers! You are nothing right now! Oh silly silly boy.” He pulled a small button out of her pocket and hovered his thumb over it dangerously close. “I press this, and she’s gone.”

“What?” Peter’s voice cracked slightly

“There is a gun.” Peter swore he stopped breathing, “Sitting directly in front of Y/n. Fully loaded and ready to be fired. now guess what the button does.”

Peter didn’t know what to do. he was lost. He had never been in this situation.

“now, if you’re’ ready to cooperate. Follow me.” Peter took slow hesitant steps behind the crazy doctor until the two entered a large empty room. In the middle was a metal chair, she was tied to it. Her hair was matted to her face with sweat, small dribbles of blood were falling down her face. A gun sat directly in front of her face. She shook with fear.

“Y/n….” Peter barely whispered. he moved to reach her, but Dr. Connors just moved his thumb closer to the button. Peter stopped and tore his eyes away from Y/n to look at Dr. Connors, “lower the trigger. What do you want? Money? Security?”

Dr. Connors laughed and shook his head, “don’t be ridiculous Spiderman. I know you don’t have any money and the minute that your little Y/n is here, I know you’d send those little friends of yours to find me. No, I want something else. Something that only you can give me.” His smile widened, and Peter felt his blood run cold.

He watched as Dr. Connors slowly walked over to Y/n and pushed the chair forward by an inch, the gun almost pressing against her skin. She whimpered in fear and squeezed her eye tightly.

Peter’s voice wavered, “what do you want? I’ll do anything.”

“I know…”

“please, Dr. Connors.” Peter was one threat away from dropping to his knees and begging.

He laid a surprisingly soft hand on Y/n’s head, but she flinched away anyways. “I want you to take off your mask, Spiderman. Reveal yourself for who you truly are.”

Ch 4

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