#made our lives hell as teenagers to where my sister moved out before graduating high school

[catboydan]

.

[andreafmn]

I'm Not Afraid - Chapter 5

xWord Count: 3,374

Characters: Female Reader Argent Character, Original Male Argent Character, Derek Hale, Allison Argent, Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski, Isaac Lahey, Lydia Martin, Chris Argent, Jackson Whittemore

Story Description: (Y/N) Argent arrived at Beacon Hills to put to rest her father’s sister, Kate Argent. For the first time, her family has decided to settle down and sustain a life in this interesting small town. After 17 years, (Y/N) has the opportunity to establish interpersonal relationships but will she be ready to face the complications that come with relating to her cousin’s, Allison, friends; especially, the infamous Derek Hale. She will face the adventure of being associated with the Derek and McCall pack as well as being faced with the discovery of certain aspects of her life she never imagined.

*DISCLAIMER* I do not own in any way Teen Wolf, all credits of the pre-established characters, script, and storyline belong to Jeff Davis and MTV Network. The only thing I own is Argent Reader insert, her immediate family, and her storyline, as well as her effects in the others’ storyline.

Chapter: 5/?

A/N: If you enjoy my writing I’ll also be posting them in AO3 and Wattpad along with other stories (I also hope to start taking requests if ya’ll want) Hope you enjoy and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

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Chapter 5

I woke up to a heavy and warm wight around my waist. As my mind started registering the scene around me, I noticed the soft snores that were filling the room, the strong smell of cologne, the rough skin encircling me, the chest in front of me that raised and fell at a slow pace. At some point during the night, Derek must have crawled into bed, and I couldn’t say that I minded.

He looked peaceful when he slept. No supernatural problems, no feuds, no hunters, just peace. My hand unconsciously landed on his cheek, softly stroking his cheek. Still succumbed to slumber, he leaned into the touch, nuzzling his head onto my hand like a puppy. I wish this could be the way it always was, but now that I knew the reality of the world we were in, there was no chance it would ever stay this way.

Deciding to let him sleep longer, I tiptoed down the stairs to the kitchen where breakfast had already been prepared. I looked around and noticed that their car keys were gone, which meant they had left early in the morning to do whatever it was that they always did. I greeted Brody who had trotted my way from the living room, and filled his dog bowl, adding a few tasty treats. While I served two plates, I put the coffee machine to run, ensuring the freshest pot for the morning. I looked around for a tray to take the breakfast upstairs in case my parents came back at any moment, eating my food as the coffee brewed. Placing some cream and sugars on the tray, I made my way back to the bedroom where Derek was starting to wake up, Brody following behind.

“Morning, sour wolf.” I softly pushed open the door, the tray in front of me. Derek was rubbing the night from his eyes, a soft smile playing on his lips. Upon seeing the man, Brody jumped on the bed greeting him with slobbery kissed. Derek laughed and petted his head as he laid at the foot of the bed.

“Morning,” he yawned. “Whatcha got there?”

“Some eggs, bacon, and hash browns. Also, some coffee.” He took the tray from my hands and set it on the bed. Taking one of the coffee cups, I sat over on my desk to work on the homework I had left pile during the week. Derek grabbed the plate and came to stand behind me, leaning down to rest his chin on my shoulder.”

“What are you doing?” He inquired, downing the food from the plate quickly.

“Homework. You know, the thing people my age have to do to be able to graduate from high school with good grades.” I looked to the side, my heart beating faster noticing the closeness of our faces. “I’m sure you wouldn’t know much about that.”

“I’ll have you know I was a good enough student.”

“Emphasis on good enough.” I booped his nose with my pen and continued my work. “When you’re done you should head home, don’t want my parents catching you here just in case.”

“Why? We’re not doing anything.” He sipped his coffee and sat down on the bed, Brody laying his head on his lap. I turned my chair and faced him, a laugh escaping my lips.

“I think you’re forgetting who you are and who my family is. Apart from that, I don’t think my dad will particularly enjoy the fact that a 21-year-old werewolf is in his teenage daughter’s bedroom, alone.” I grinned. “But suit yourself. I’d love to see how it will play out.”

“Alright, but can I at least take you out some time this week?” My heartbeat quickened, the sound loud enough for me to hear. “Is that a yes?”

“It’s not a no,” I grinned.

“I kind of need an answer,” he pressed. A grin played on his lips by the point he had stood and rested his hands on the arms of the chair.

“How about, I’ll let you know?”

“I’ll take it,” he smiled. “I’ll text you.”

“Alright, I’ll be waiting.” He kissed my cheek and grabbed his jacket to head towards the door. “Where are you going?”

“Home?”

“Not through the door you’re not.” The dumbfounded look on his face was hilarious. “what would I do if my parents walked in.”

“I’m fast, you know. Like supernaturally fast.”

“Mm, I’ve seen you. Not fast enough.”

“Fine,” he surrendered. “Keep watch of your phone.”

“I will,” I smiled. He took a step back and in the blink of an eye, he was gone. Brody got alerted by the sudden move and jumped off the bed to bark at the window, standing on his hind legs to prop his eye out. I joined his side and saw Derek standing normally in my backyard as if he hadn’t just jumped out of a two-story window. He waved and I waved back as he became a blur, vanishing before my very eyes.

I slumped down on my bed and ran my hands over my face. What was I doing? There were so many things that were pit against us. My 18th birthday was still a little less than a year away, he had something going on with Erica, my family and he are natural-born enemies, we are currently under the terror of a reptilian shapeshifting Jackson, and that was just scratching the surface. I couldn’t scrutinize why he would ask me out too much, it was probably not even in a romantic way. It could just well be that he wanted to keep an eye on me since I was new to this whole werewolf, Kanima, hunter thing.

A couple of hours went by where I took Brody out for a walk, finished what was left of my homework, and started watching a movie when my phone went off.

“Hey, I heard the good news! You’re staying in town.”

“Hey, Allison. Yeah, it looks that way.”

“Well then, I believe you owe some people an apology.”

“What could you possibly mean?” I scoffed. But she was right, as hard as it was to admit.

“Don’t act dumb, (Y/N). You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“I don’t like it when you’re right,” I sighed. “What do you think I should do?”

“I could invite them over to your house and you could apologize to them. They never object to free pizza.”

I was glad. Instead of sulking on the 'he likes me, he likes me not' nonsense, I prepared the house for Allison and her friends, the people I hope to win over. One by one they arrived at my doorstep. Scott, Stiles, Lydia, and Allison. I had put out some snacks and the pizza I had bought. Scott and Stiles were not shy about their hunger as they dove in right away.

"So, what's the purpose of this meeting?" Lydia asked, her usual cocky attitude on full show.

"Uh, well, I wanted to apologize for being such a bitch these past few weeks."

"Hm, understatement of the century." Stiles chuckled with his mouth full.

"Actually, she can be 1,000 times worse. That was just level 1 bitchiness."

"Point taken. But why would you apologize? We get it you don't want to be our friend."

"That's not it, it's just... ugh... Look, it’s honestly a very long story, but moving around it’s hard to cut ties and start over for so long. After a while it’s easier to builds walls up and maintain everyone at arm’s length." They all stared at me. Hopefully I was getting through to them. "But this time I'm changing that. I want to be your friend and that's why I'm apologizing."

"Well, I don't know about the other guys, but I've always considered you my friend. I mean, I've considered Lydia my friend and she hates me."

"Oh, please, Stiles. I don't hate you, you're just, um.... special."

"I'll take it."

"We understand. And of course you're our friend, (Y/N). You were just too stubborn to notice." Scott smiled at me. "Now, is there more pizza?"

"How the hell did you two boys just finish two boxes of pizza?"

"We're growing?" Stiles said with his mouth full.

"Barely," Allison mumbled.

"You know I can hear you, right?"

"That's the point, Scott."

The whole room laughed and continued to enjoy a very pleasant afternoon. It felt weird to finally feel like I belonged somewhere; that there were people around me that cared for me despite my flaws. As I looked around the faces of the group that had welcomed me with open arms, I couldn’t help but feel that someone was missing; the person that had first accepted me.

The clock had hit 4 o’clock when the last piece of food was gone, and the gang had gone home. After cleaning up, I decided it was time to call Isaac. I didn’t like the person he had become after the bite. But I couldn’t say I didn’t understand. He felt confident, strong, but he was using the wrong outlet. Just like I was.

“So, you’re finally talking to me,” Isaac chuckled, a cocky tone to his voice.

“Only if you’re done being a douche.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ever since you turned into a werewolf you’ve been nothing short of unbearable with your cocky behavior and holier-than-thou attitude.” I could hear him shifting on the other line, the news taking him aback. It seems Derek hadn’t told his pack that I knew everything.

“H-how… who told you?”

“Derek, your alpha. He told me everything the other day. I know all about werewolves, kanimas, hunters, pack, blah, blah, blah. But none of that excuses your behavior,’’ I sighed. “So, are you done being a dick?”

“Maybe,” he chuckled. “Can I see you?”

“Sure. Why don’t we go grab a bite? I’ll pick you up.”

“Alright!” He sounded excited. “I’ll text you the address.”

After hanging up I decided to take a quick shower before leaving. I threw on a white t-shirt and jeans and paired them with my leather jacket. As I tied my boots, I reached for the keys of my dad’s Chevrolet Suburban. Hopefully, I didn’t crash. In the car, I typed in the address Isaac had sent me. It was an industrial loft not too far from my own home. I honked my horn to notify Isaac I was there as well as sent a text.

“Are you stalking me now?”

I jumped at the sound of Derek’s voice and the knock he left on my window. . He appeared like a ghost and leaned on my door. “I could say the same about you. I’ve never been here before.”

“I live here,” he laughed, pointing at the building. “It’s my loft.”

“I’m here to pick up Isaac,” I said sheepishly. “So, he’s been staying with you. I thought you live in the woods.”

“It’s my family’s house and it’s under my ownership, but it’s not under livable conditions. And, yes, Isaac has been staying with me.”

“Hey, Derek.” Isaac finally emerged from the doors and jogged up to my car, patting Derek on the back. The man’s expression rapidly changed as soon as Isaac joined the conversation. The playful smile he wore had been replaced by a menacing scowl. “We’re going out for a while. I’ll see you later.”

We said goodbye and as I drove off, I stared at Derek. His body was tense, and his jaw was clenched. He was angry, but I didn’t know why. When we were alone, he was a completely different person than what he showed to others. There was this terrifying façade that was impenetrable by everyone else, yet he was a completely different person with me; he was an Alpha to the others, but he was just Derek to me.

I parked the car at a small burger joint Isaac directed me to. It wasn’t too full, so our food came out quickly. We sat at a table in the back, far from any prying ears.

“So, what did you mean about this cocky attitude?” He popped a french fry into his mouth, playing around with his food. “You seemed quite mad about it. Mad enough that you avoided me for some time.”

“Ever since you transformed you’ve been carrying yourself like you’re above everyone, you don’t even bother to be respectful of teachers or anyone for that matter. I miss the old Isaac.”

“You mean the pushover wimpy kid?” He scoffed. “I can’t say the same.”

“That’s not what I meant.” My hand reached out to his clenched fist and his hold softened. “You were nice and respectful, and knew how to treat others because you knew how it felt to be mistreated. Of course, you could have done with more confidence, but that’s not what this is. It’s almost as if you’re turning into Jackson, heaven forbid.”

His eyes softened and I knew I was getting through the wall he had built up.

"I'm sorry, (Y/N). It's just… this is the first time in my life that I have felt powerful, like nothing and no one can touch me. I've dealt with so much shit that I thought I deserved to act like that," he sighed. "Can you ever forgive me?"

“You’re practically my best friend, how could I not?”

“Thanks.” He gave me a smile that I happily reciprocated. For the first time in a while, I was seeing the Isaac I had met some time ago. “So, what is it that you needed to speak to me so eagerly.”

“Remember how I mentioned that I would be moving at the end of the year so you shouldn’t get attached?” He nodded. “Well, it seems you’re gonna have to put up with me for a long time. Beacon Hills is now my home.”

“What?! That’s great!” He exclaimed a little too loud. Heads turned towards us and Isaac tried to hide his blush. “Does that mean we can truly be friends now? Not just study partners or casual conversation acquaintances?”

“Yes, Isaac. That’s exactly what that means,” I laughed. His face had lit up as the hard mask he wore finally broke apart. “By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask you, what happened the night that I picked you up? It was such a weird night.”

His whole demeanor changed, clearly a sore subject to talk about. "If Derek told you what we are I presume he told you about everything else." I nodded. "The Kanima. It killed my father. We, um, had gotten into a fight and I ran out. It seems he went out looking for me but didn't get to me. I found him dead in his car, but I ran and called you."

" Isaac, why didn't you tell me? I mean, I know why you didn't tell me, but something; you should have told me something.” I looked into his eyes, worry evident in them. He had gone through such a traumatic event basically by himself. “Is that why the police were looking for you?"

He nodded. "They thought I had something to do with his murder because of something Jackson said. He was unfortunately my neighbor and had seen me running out of the house, but there were no tracks leading to me. I'm not a fugitive anymore." He smiled softly.

“I’m glad, Isaac, really. And I’m truly sorry for everything you’ve had to endure alone for all these years. You didn’t deserve it.”

“Thanks, (Y/N). At least that part of my life is over.”

“Now we just have to get that damn Kanima and get on with our lives.” We laughed.

Before we knew it, the sky outside had turned dark, signaling the arrival of the night. The car ride back was filled with mindless chitchat and soft background music. It had been a long few days and exhaustion was evident in both of us. Soon enough, the grey building had come into view.

“Do you want to come in for a bit?” Isaac leaned into the open window of the driver’s side.

“I think I’m just gonna head on home. I’m a bit tired and we have school tomorrow.” I smiled. “But, I’ll take you up on the offer someday.”

“Isaac, good to see you’re back,” Derek announced himself, his two betas following behind. “You’re late for training.”

“Sorry, Derek. Time slipped away.”

“Sorry won’t cut it.” His voice was commanding and a bit intimidating. I could see why everyone around me feared him. “Go with Erica and Boyd. Get started.”

'‘Bye, (Y/N). I’ll see you tomorrow.” I smiled and nodded, trying my best to comfort him.

“See you.” Derek stood back as we both watched the three figures disappear into the building. His chest moved, heaving, and he reeked of jealousy. “What’s your problem?”

“What?” Did he truly believe I was that oblivious? “I just…”

“You’re acting like a prissy child, Derek. You knew where Isaac was, who he was with, and that there was a possibility that he would come back late. There’s no need to grill him that hard.”

“He’s old enough to manage his time correctly, (Y/N). He needs to learn discipline. This has nothing to do with you.”

“Clearly, that’s not what’s happening here,’’ I laughed dryly. “Look, pardon the metaphor, but this whole alpha male act is gonna get very tiring, very quickly. If this is how you’re gonna be, don’t bother on scheduling that date this week.”

“Don’t be like that, (Y/N). I swear this has nothing to do with you. There are certain rules that we have to abide by, a different life. It’s complicated.”

“You’re not making any sense, Derek.”

“It’s hard to explain.”

“Yesterday we said no secrets, Derek. What changed in the hours that have passed?”

“Nothing’s changed. I’m sorry if I seemed too harsh on Isaac, but I have to be. They’re young and reckless, and it’s my job to make sure they stay safe. No matter the cost.” He ran his hands across his face as he let out a loud sigh. “Why don’t we just keep the supernatural and our personal lives apart.”

“We can try that for a while, but they’re bound to intersect at some point.”

“I know, but…”

“Let’s play it your way and see how it goes, okay? And lay off Isaac and the others? They are just kids.”

“I’ll try,” he smiled softly. “Text me when you get home, okay?”

“If I remember.”

I backed the car up and sped back to my house. When I opened the garage, my father was sitting on the spot where the car usually went. I had forgotten to tell them I would be gone, and my phone’s battery had died a while back. I was in so much trouble.

“Good to know you’re alive, darling daughter.” The sarcasm spewed from my father’s mouth, and it stung.

“I’m so sorry. I went out with a friend and my phone died. And I know I forgot to say I was leaving the house, but I rarely do that, so please forgive me.”

“Calm down, (Y/N),” he laughed. “We just wanted to make sure you were okay. You weren’t answering your phone, so we got worried. But remember, there’s a tracker on the car. We figured you were out. And I’m glad to hear you have a friend. It’s about time.”

“Thanks, dad.” He wrapped me in a hug and patted my head. If he knew who my friends were I’m sure he wouldn’t feel the same way. “But, if you knew where I was, what was this whole scary setup? I for sure thought you were going to kill me.”

“Nothing like that, honey. But your mother and I have something we have to talk to you about.”

“What is it? You can’t take back that we are staying.”

“It’s not that, but it is serious. Let’s go, your mom is waiting in the kitchen.”

My heart was beating at a rapid pace, a million thoughts running through my head. Although, at the bottom of my heart I knew what this talk was going to be about.

Tag List: @hellowinterlane​ @lokisgoddesofpower​ @mersuperwholocked-lowlife @malar-region

[procrastinatorimagines]

Our Little Secret Part 7

Fandom: The Vampire Diaries / The Originals

Series: Our Little Secret

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // 

Part 7 // Part 8 // Part 9 // Part 10 // Part 11 // Part 12 // Part 13 // Part 14 // Part 15 (Final)

Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x Reader

Warning/s: none

Word Count: 1,337

Summary: Y/N Gilbert tried to put Mystic Falls - it’s problems, and her whirlwind romance with Klaus Mikaelson - behind her after she graduated, but all it takes is one unusual phone call to bring her right back to where she started and into the path of her first love as she races to solve the mystery threatening the lives of everyone in her home town.

Tags: @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​ // @april-14-blog​ // @akshi8278​ // @keiko0​ // @mylovehes​ // @your-new-mom​

“Hello?” You answered, a pause as you waited somewhat impatiently for whoever had called you three times in the middle of the right to reply. The area code up it in Virginia, which, you realised with a feeling of slight dread, could only mean on thing. 

“Hello?!” Grumbling and half asleep you were about to hang up when you heard a crackle from the other end, pausing as you listened.

The crackling turned to panting, someone was running, presumably through... leaves? Was that the noise? You weren’t sure, but you were sure that you were tired. 

“Who is this?” You asked, turning on your bed side lamp and pushing yourself up into a sitting position, leaning against the head board and rubbing your eyes. 

“Help-” A voice came from the other side of the line, making you freeze, not daring to move another inch as you tried to listen to what was going on. “He said you could help-”

“Who is this? Who told you that?” You practically demanded, suddenly wide awake. The voice didn’t sound familiar but they sounded young, female, a teenager maybe?

“My dad- your number- in an emergency-” the connection was awful, and the continuous movement on the other end didn’t help, parts not getting through as you strained your ears to listen to what they had to say.

“Can you tell me who you are?” You asked her. A lot of your friends from Mystic Falls had children now, but the only ones in their teens were Lizzie and Josie Saltzman, but this didn’t sound like them, though it had been a number of years. “Please, I need you to tell me who you are, where you are, and if you’re in danger.”

You were already tearing yourself out of bed at this point, putting the phone on speaker. “Hope, my name’s Hope- Mystic- Salvatore Sch- please-” And with a scream, the line went dead. You stopped where you were standing, breathing shallow, face pale in horror. 

A second later, you’d forcefully shaken yourself out of it, there was no time to think. Ignoring the fact that it was 3 am, you threw open your closet, grabbing clothes for now and a suitcase to pack, multitasking getting dressed and packing for a trip. 

It had been years since you last set foot in Mystic Falls, moving away for college and only going back for your twin sister Elena’s ‘funeral’, but that didn’t mean you didn’t keep in contact with everyone there, occasionally. Silas, Kai, Lillian Salvatore, the Sirens... Tyler, Enzo and Stefan... 

A lot had happened, a lot of pain, a lot of loss, you’d only brought yourself to return to say goodbye to Elena, which thankfully hadn’t been permanent. You’d call her once you got to the airport, explain the phone call you’d received, as much as you could anyway.

Hope. You knew that name. It was the name of Klaus and Hailey’s daughter. If her dad had given her your number in case of emergencies... You didn’t know why he would have done, but nothing in this world meant more to Klaus than his family, especially his daughter you reckoned. So for him to give her your number, he must have put a lot of trust in you, or you were the absolute last resort. 

You’d loved Klaus once, not that you’d ever told him that, your romance had been like a fantasy, and fantasies didn’t last, especially when your prince charming was threatening to kill your sister and your friends. No relationship was perfect, but you and Klaus had been doomed to fail from the start. 

You were too different, different paths, different obligations... He’d always said that maybe one day, your paths would cross again, that it hadn’t been your time then but maybe it would be one day. Although you’d try to put it behind you, you still wore that shooting star necklace he’d given you, still thought of him when you looked up at the night sky. 

You glanced out of your windows now, taking in the twinkling lights about. Hope Mikaelson was in danger, and she’d asked for your help. So your help was what she was going to get, however helpful a human with no special abilities could be anyway.

You were going home.

-

You touched down in Viriginia just as the sun was rising, casting beautiful colours across the sky as you made your way to the taxi Elena had arranged for you. 

Elena had answered straight away; nothing screamed urgent like a mid night phone call from your distant, in multiple meanings, sister. You’d explained the situation on your way to your terminal, having booked the flight in the taxi over to the airport. She and Damon had been confused, to say the least, but they knew as much as you did.

They had Klaus’ number, you didn’t so they promised they’d be in touch with him, checking in with Alaric at the school too.

You spent the entire flight and taxi ride thinking it over again and again, replaying what had happened in your mind as you tried to figure out the why, all thoughts clearing from your mind only when you laid eyes on the welcome sign. 

Mystic Falls. You were actually here again. 

Checking your phone again you saw no new messages, from Elena or anyone else, which was odd. You’d expected someone to call you, anyone, but they hadn’t. They weren’t answering either, a feeling of pure dread filling you as the taxi reached the town square. 

It was still early morning, but the lack of people set your nerves on edge. 

“Huh, strange,” the taxi driver shivered, quickly taking your money and driving off as soon as you’d grabbed your belongings. You didn’t blame him, even by Mystic Falls standards, something was very wrong here. 

Okay, slight change of plan. Your planned first stop had been the School, but now it was the weapons cache Alaric had at the Mystic Grill. 

You moved quickly and carefully, on high alert just like Ric had taught you, an iron grip on your suitcase as you headed around the back of the building. 

It didn’t take you long to grab a supply of weapons, slipping a knife into each boot, a gun and stake in your belt and a crossbow on your back as you wished you didn’t have a suitcase to slow you down. You’d have to stash it here for now, just until you figured out what was going on.

Grabbing only the bare essentials out of it and shoving them into a more portable bag, you made it back around the building just in time to catch sight of something out the corner of your eye.

Pausing and slowly turning you looked into the window of the Grill, catching sight of people at the tables. You only had time to feel relieved for a split second before fear set in, looking at the way they were slumped over in their seats, some with their faces in their food, some on the floor, trays scattered around like they’d been dropped. They looked like they were asleep... or... dead. 

You felt your heart rate pick up as you swallowed, hard, not wanting to be anywhere near here when whatever did that came back. 

A shadow passing in front of you alerted you of someone or something behind you, flipping your crossbow back around from it’s position on your back and into your hands in seconds as you whirled around. You could take the girl out of Mystic Falls, but apparently you couldn’t take the Mystic Falls out of the girl.

Your breath caught in your throat as you registered who was standing before you, that face, that smirk... he hadn’t changed a bit. “Klaus,” you gasped, lowering your weapon as you took him in.

“Hello love,” he grinned, clearly glad to see you although his eyes revealed his worry, “now, what the blood hell is going on here?”

[jlalafics]

“I loved you first”-an Everlark fic

This prompt was requested by @b-boop5. Thanks love!

5. “Wait a minute. Are you jealous?”

Summary: There are divorced couples. Then, there are Katniss and Peeta Mellark.

I loved you first

Johanna Mason looked around the high school field, lined with rows of plastic chairs. In front of her stood two middle-aged women, dressed in their ceremony best, looking over the crowd gathering for the graduation.

“I didn’t have a chance to look over my program, but who is the Valedictorian?” one woman asked.

“It’s the Mellark girl—Adeline,” the other woman responded. “She’s heading to Stanford this Fall, you know.”

“I’m not really familiar with her…I don’t think that she and Katie really hang out.”

“Oh—everyone knows about the Mellarks.” Johanna moved in closer, grimacing at the woman’s overwhelming floral perfume. “Adeline’s parents were practically teenagers when they had her. They stay together long enough to have Adeline’s younger brother before getting divorced.”

“So, they’re what? In their thirties?”

“About that. Katniss, her mother, barely looks like she’s hitting her thirties. She owns that cute little boutique downtown.”

“And, the Dad?”

“Oh God—Peeta Mellark. A delicious specimen of a man. He’s the CEO of Mellark Bakery; his family started it from a small, mom-and-pop bakery and he turned it into a franchise. Now, they’re all over the country.”

Johanna was suddenly blinded as two hands covered her eyes. She smelled the faint scent of sugar and watercolor paints.

“You’re messing up my makeup, Luke,” she warned.

Whirling around, Johanna beamed at a gangly blond, grinning at her.

“Aunt Johanna!” Luke wrapped his arms around her. “You came!”

“Of course.” She embraced her nephew tightly. “Where’s your mother?”

“Her and Dad are heading down,” Luke informed her. “They’re deciding which restaurant to go to for Grandma’s birthday next weekend.”

“There they are,” the gossiping woman suddenly said. “Peeta and Katniss Mellark. The perfect exes.”

“Are you sure? They looked like they’re still into each other.”

Luke and Johanna locked eyes; the young boy rolling his at the two women being not-so-discreet.

“They’ve been that way for years. Every PTA meeting or school event, they’re together and usually talking amongst themselves, his arm around her shoulders and her leaning against him, just like now—here they come!”

“Johanna!” Katniss pulled away from her ex to rush into the woman’s arms. “I’m so glad you came!”

“I wouldn’t miss AJ’s graduation for anything,” Johanna replied. “And, how is my favorite ex-cousin doing?” She looked to the man talking to her nephew. “Hey, asshole.”

Peeta grinned at her. “Hello to you too, Johanna.”

“How are you enjoying Panem so far?” Katniss asked her.

Johanna looked to the shocked women, both red with embarrassment. She gave them a wink.

“It’s been illuminating.”

++++++

“Apparently, you and Peeta, are the ‘It’ couple when it comes to divorces,” Johanna informed the two as they found their seats.

“Are we?” Katniss looked to her ex-husband with a smile. “Did you hear that, Peeta? We’re the cool divorcees.”

Peeta snorted. “Don’t these people have anything else to talk about?” He sat next to Katniss, giving Luke the aisle seat so he could take pictures of his sister walking down towards the stage. His arm snaked over to the back of Katniss’ chair. “Sometimes I forget how small it is here.”

“Well, you two are freakishly close,” Johanna pointed out. “Probably more than most married couples.”

“It’s kinda true, parents,” Luke added as he played with the lens of his camera. “My friends are always surprised when I tell them you’re divorced.”

“Why are your friends so nosy, teenager?” Peeta asked.

“Because their parents ask.” Luke turned to them. “It’s not like I mind. I don’t really remember when you were together, but if it was the opposite of this, then I’m glad you’re divorced.”

“That’s very mature of you, sweetheart,” Katniss told their son.

Peeta smiled fondly at his ex-wife. “We made some smart children.”

She returned the gesture, her eyes on the handsome man. “All from me.”

He leaned towards her ear. “I don’t doubt that.”

Katniss trembled; even after all these years, Peeta always knew how to make her come undone. They had known one another since they were children, had fallen deeply in love when they were juniors in high school, and Katniss was pregnant by graduation.

They had tried to make it work.

The birth of Adeline had brought them even closer and they loved their daughter with all their hearts. However, the extra responsibility had been a lot on the young parents who both juggled work and college part-time.

Katniss and Peeta’s parents had rallied to help the two. Their families helped take care of the adorable cherub that Adeline was while they went to school. On the weekends, Peeta was at the Mellark Bakery, learning how to manage his parents’ business. Katniss would be at their apartment, textbooks on the kitchen table and their daughter in her arms.

They both graduated with business degrees.

Katniss was pregnant with Luke during their college ceremony.

By Luke’s first birthday, Peeta and Katniss could see the cracks in their relationship. Peeta had been spending less time at home, trying to bring Mellark Bakery up the corporate chain. Katniss was unsure what she wanted to do and had little time to think about it as she raised their two children.

Also, they both had tempers.

As the children slept, they argued, going to bed angry. Sometimes, one or both would be in tears.

By the time Luke was two and Adeline six, they had agreed to a divorce.

Katniss and Peeta sat their families down and told them that they would be separating but amicably. Katniss would have the home that they had bought together, and it would be where the children would live. Peeta would move into an apartment nearby and would have them on the weekends.

Their main priorities were Adeline and Luke. They wanted their children to grow up in a loving, supportive environment.

It was hard in the beginning; they still loved one another…but something changed. Maybe they had become too different or they had just grown apart.

Whatever caused their breakup hurt like hell.

They continued to push forward; Katniss eventually decided to open her boutique, Primrose—named after her younger sister. Peeta became a silent partner, helping her purchase the space, but mostly staying out of the way as a gesture of goodwill towards his ex-wife.

Now, Katniss could say with confidence that Peeta was one of her best friends and vice-versa.

They had dinners together with the kids—sometimes without them. She would go to the Mellark Home for Thanksgiving and Peeta would attend the annual Christmas party at her parents’ house.

They went to every recital, sports event, and even spelling bee together. The kids never felt neglected—at least she hoped they didn’t—and both parents had great relationships with Adeline and Luke.

“It’s starting!” Luke called out. He put the viewer of his camera to his eye as the strains of ‘Pomp and Circumstance’ began.

The navy-clad graduates were led by Haymitch Abernathy—Senior Class advisor and teacher—who held the school banner as he walked down the aisle to cheers and camera flashes.

He was followed by the Senior Student Council, each with white stoles denoting their roles.

Then, wearing gold stoles, were the Valedictorian and Salutatorian.

Adeline beamed excitedly, her long dark waves moving with her, as she walked down the aisle. Next to her, Evan Odair smiled, his cheeks red and his eyes caught on Katniss and Peeta’s beautiful daughter.

Adeline spotted her parents, waving excitedly, and flashing a peace sign as Luke took her picture.

Katniss took a deep breath, trying to keep her tears at bay. Sometimes, she still saw the little girl who would beg her to play tea party with her every afternoon.

Now, that little girl was getting ready to take on the world—and she wouldn’t need her mother anymore.

Peeta put an arm around her, pulling her side against his.

“She’s always going to need us, Katniss,” he assured her.

Katniss turned to him. “How did you know what I was thinking?”

Peeta reached, wiping the stray tear off her cheek, and giving her a sad smile.

“Because I know us,” he told her. “We all grew up together—you, me, Luke, and Addie. And, we’re never going to stop needing each other.”

Katniss nodded and he pressed a kissed to her temple.

Next to the exes, Johanna rolled her eyes.

Brainless, the both of them.

++++++

“Now, I would like to call up our Valedictorian—” Voluminous applause rang through the crowd along with some shouts from the rowdier seniors. “—an ambitious young woman who, besides maintaining a 4.0 GPA and taking all available AP classes, is the president of our youth volunteer club, one of our most popular tutors and a peer mediator. From personal experience, it has been an honor to have someone to debate with in class—” The crowd laugh at his words. “Ladies and gentlemen, Adeline Jane Mellark.”

The crowd was riotous as Adeline stepped onto the stage. She was always popular, though she never had a particular crowd that she hung out with. She went to prom with Evan—as friends—though Katniss believed that the boy next door had always wanted more.

However, Adeline had always been a free spirit.

She admitted to Katniss that she didn’t want to be tied down to anyone since she would be leaving for school—despite the cuteness of Evan’s smile.

Adeline stepped up to the podium, beaming at the crowd.

“Good afternoon, faculty members, families, and senior class,” she began. “My name is Adeline Jane Mellark. Most of you know me as AJ or, if you’re my Dad, Addie. I am supposed to be up here trying to inspire and give you advice for what comes next. However, I don’t think I could give you any advice as I’m in the same boat as the rest of you. I don’t know what’s coming next.”

Katniss leaned forward; her eyes trained on her daughter. Peeta sat in rapt attention, his own stare on their daughter.

“I can tell you that, whenever I’m not sure what to do, I think of my parents. You see, my mom and dad had me right after they graduated high school. They had to navigate going to college along with raising a child and by the time they graduated college, my brother came along. When I think about it, we grew up together.” Adeline smiled to herself. “We learned together.”

She met Katniss’ eyes.

“My mom taught me to always focus on what I want, to never back down, to fight for what I believe in.”

Peeta reached for her hand, giving it a squeeze.

“My Dad—” She heard Peeta’s breath hitch. “—taught me that there is good in everyone; that sometimes to get back on track all you need to do is look at a sunset, and to always have hope.”

She grinned.

“Mom, Dad…I just wanted to say that I’m proud to be your daughter. That, because of you, I am not afraid of what comes next. You both taught me lessons that I’m going to carry with me my whole life—that no matter what happens, I’ll always have a place to just be me.”

Adeline looked at her classmates.

“We’re always going to have each other. So, when you’re feeling lost or scared, think back to this moment—this is our place to be us. This great moment of excitement…fear…of endings…and beginnings—life is full of them. Enjoy them. It has been an honor to be part of this graduating class and I wish you all the best of luck in whatever comes next. Thank you and congratulations!”

The crowd was up on their feet and, over the sea of people, Adeline met her parents’ identical teary gazes to blow them both a kiss.

++++++

“You must be so proud, Peeta,” the woman…Karen—he wasn’t sure what her name was—said. “Adeline is so accomplished.”

In return, Peeta gave the woman a conciliatory smile. “Katniss and I are very proud of her.”

Beside him, Finnick and Annie Odair stifled their laughter at her obvious flirting in the middle of his own daughter’s graduation reception. The couple had been friends with the Mellarks since they moved into the neighborhood.

“It’s going to be awfully lonely for you now that Adeline’s going to be moving away,” she simpered.

“Not really. Our son is just entering high school. Katniss and I are sure we’ll have our hands full.”

“Luke is definitely a spitfire,” Finnick said. “But a hell of an artist.”

“He’s going to the fine arts high school, correct?” The woman frowned. “Do you think that’s the right path? The artist route isn’t very lucrative.”

“Well, it’s a damn good thing that Peeta and I care more about our children’s happiness than the amount of money they’ll make.” Katniss joined his side and gave the woman a cool smile. “Clarissa, we’re so glad you could join us.”

“Thank you for having us.” The woman looked around the house. “You have a beautiful home.” Her eyes suddenly darted behind them. “If you’ll excuse me.”

She was gone in a second.

“Clarissa! That was her name!” Peeta snapped his fingers, turning to his ex-wife. “This whole time I thought it was Karen.”

Katniss chuckled. “Please don’t tell me you called her Karen.”

“Peeta couldn’t get a word in,” Annie explained. “The woman had her sights on becoming the new Mrs. Mellark.”

“Many have tried, all have failed,” Peeta said. “Anyway, I’m not looking.”

“Why not?” Katniss questioned. “I was just too perfect, wasn’t I?”

He flashed her a smile. “We all didn’t find a Gale Hawthorne, did we?”

Peeta tried not to cringe saying the man’s name. Katniss had been dating him casually for six months, but he could tell that the man was set on making things official.

“Where is Prince Charming, anyway?” Finnick asked, his disdain obvious. Their friend had always believed that he and Katniss would eventually reunite. According to him, they had too much fire to be just friendly exes.

“Probably somewhere polishing his crown,” Peeta replied with a short laugh.

The look on Katniss’ face quickly cut him off. She looked disappointed.

“Peeta, you’re better than that,” she admonished softly. “Excuse me.”

Katniss walked away, heading upstairs, and his heart sank seeing the slump in her shoulders.

“What the fuck was that?” Annie asked, looking between the men.

“Truthfully, I think Gale is a douche,” her husband admitted. “I don’t know what the hell Peeta was on about—” Finnick looked to the downhearted man. “Wait a minute. Are you jealous?”

Peeta glared. “Why would I be jealous?”

Finnick guffawed. “Because the man is probably pounding into your ex-wife who you’re still pining over.”

“Focus, you two!” Annie pushed Peeta forward. “You should probably talk to her.”

“I’m already on it.”

++++++

Katniss looked at herself in the bathroom mirror.

Why was she even upset about Peeta’s remark? It wasn’t like it was mean.

Truthfully, Gale was a little high on himself sometimes. He was successful, having his own real estate firm, and had taken her to some nice places.

While he didn’t make an effort to get to know Adeline or Luke, she hadn’t gone out of her way to encourage his involvement with her children either. They didn’t need another father figure.

Truthfully, Katniss kept him because he saw her as a woman—and not just a wife or mother.

There had been a point in her marriage to Peeta where they stopped seeing each other as people and started seeing one another as parents who just slept next to one another. It was hard to keep the romance alive when she always had a baby to her chest.

Their fights had been epic and an argument over which preschool Adeline would go to ended with a bout of angry sex against the doorway of their bedroom.

Then, she ended up pregnant with Luke.

One day, they looked wearily to one another and both realized it was over.

They had no fight in them left.

“Katniss?” Peeta stood at the bathroom doorway, guilt on his face. “You okay?”

Katniss turned to him, crossing her arms as she faced him. “I guess.”

“I didn’t mean it,” he told her.

“I just don’t want us to get to that point where we’re snipping at one another,” Katniss told him. She moved past him to walk into her bedroom and sat on her bed. “I hated that.”

Peeta joined her. “Me, too.” He sighed, giving her a doleful look. “I’m just not used to not being the number one man in your life.”

She knocked into his shoulder, a smile rising on her lips.

“Peeta…you know that Luke is number one.”

“I will concede to our son,” Peeta told her. “Addie is going out with her friends tonight and Luke is sleeping over at Christian’s house. They have a video game to conquer, apparently. Did you want to have dinner? Like a parents of the Valedictorian celebration? We can go to that Chinese place that we love—with the mu shu you like.”

Katniss gave him an apologetic smile.

“After the cleaning crew leaves, I’m having dinner with Gale tonight.”

Peeta nodded. “How about I stay while the crew cleans up and you two can go on your date earlier?”

She raised a brow. “You sure?”

He stood, holding out his hand. “Truce?”

Katniss took it, standing and giving him a hug, her nose pressing his shoulder. She always enjoyed his smell, that warm spiciness of his cologne. It was comforting yet it still made her heart skip a beat whenever it hit her nostrils.

“We better get downstairs,” she said into his shirt. “We have a speech to make.”

Peeta nodded, lifting her chin so he could look into her eyes. “We did it, Katniss.”

“What do you mean?”

They walked out of her bedroom and Katniss looped her arm through his as they headed down the hallway towards the stairs.

“Remember when she was first born? We were both so scared of screwing her up…but we didn’t,” he told her.

They descended the stairs, staring at one another.

“I remember. I was constantly snippy and wanting to call the doctor at every weird noise she made,” she replied. “And, you were always worried about dropping her or cursing in front of her!”

“I may have cursed once or twice. Much more around Luke—” Katniss snorted and he laughed. “Things get a little more relaxed with the second one!”

Katniss sighed. “True.” They stopped halfway down, and she turned to him. “I’m sorry if I ever took my parenting fears out on you. It probably contributed to a lot of our fights.”

Peeta shrugged. “I wasn’t there for you when you needed me. All those late nights at the office…”

“It’s all in the past now,” she interjected.

At the foot of the stairs, Adeline and Luke were talking to Evan and his parents. When she turned to look at them, their daughter hurried up the stairs with a bright smile on her face before wrapping her arms around her parents.

“Thanks, you two.” Adeline pulled away; her blue eyes glowing. “This is a great party and you did so much—”

“You deserve it,” Peeta told her tenderly.

“You’re our little girl,” Katniss said. “We always kind of knew we would be spoiling you!” Adeline giggled. “And, we are enormously proud. A bit braggy, too…”

“Aunt Johanna told me about those two women gossiping about you guys,” their daughter informed them quietly. “It makes sense, though. Their daughters are bitches.”

Peeta guffawed and Katniss raised a brow at their daughter’s words. That was thing about Adeline; she never pussyfooted. Like Katniss, she could be blunt when need be. However, she was naturally empathetic like Peeta.

“While I’d usually prefer that you didn’t curse, you’re eighteen so I can’t really stop you,” Katniss said.

“Thanks, Mom!” They made their way to the last three steps and Adeline went to a nearby server, who handed her two glasses of champagne. She walked over to them, handing them both a glass. “Good luck, you two.”

Stepping back, Adeline joined her brother and friend.

Katniss turned to Peeta, a nervous grin gracing her face. “Go on. You’re better with this than I am.”

He chuckled, leaning to kiss her cheek.

“You’re probably right.” She elbowed him, ignoring the heat rising on her face. “You’re really too easy to fluster.”

Peeta cleared his throat and Luke tapped the glass he was holding with a spoon to catch everyone’s attention.

“Thank you, Luke,” he told their son, who grinned back with a smile so much like his own. “Thank you all for attending this reception. Katniss and I would just like to say a few words about our daughter…”

++++++

“How did the graduation go?” Gale asked as he cut into his steak, his eyes focused on the slab of meat.

“It was wonderful,” Katniss replied. She reached for her fork to cut into her salmon. “I wish you could’ve come to the reception. You would’ve enjoyed it.”

“It’s not really my thing,” the man replied easily. “No one wants the boyfriend at the family party. Anyway, I already gave Adeline her graduation gift.”

Her daughter had smiled blankly as Gale handed her the two gift cards; one for Target for school supplies and the other one to get a full tank of gas for her Prius.

It wasn’t that her daughter was ungrateful; she admitted to Katniss that Gale seemed a little…cold towards her and Luke—as if he didn’t like them.

However, who wouldn’t adore Katniss’ children?

They were sweet and kind…

The man in front of her, however, looked a little overwhelmed whenever he was in their presence.

“Don’t you like your food?”

Katniss realized that she had yet to take a bite. She gave him a smile before putting a piece in her mouth.

“Delicious.” She swallowed before reaching for her wine glass. She definitely needed to discuss this issue about the children. “Listen—”

“I know what you’re going to say.” Gale placed his utensils down. “Now that Adeline is leaving for school, you’re looking into more time for us.” He gave her a tight smile. “It’s just that we’re getting into the summer and it’s our busiest time with parents trying to buy or rent places for their kids—”

“That wasn’t what I was going to talk to you about that,” she interrupted. “It’s that whenever you’re around my kids, you seem to be a little…aloof.”

Gale looked non-plussed. “I mean, they aren’t my kids. I don’t necessarily need to be obliged to care for them like I’m their father. They have one.”

“I know that and Peeta is a great one,” she explained. “But I thought we were serious in a sense where you’d want to get to know them.”

“Hmmm…maybe if we had our own child, I might have to open up to them.”

Katniss blanched—was she really dating this guy? This man who didn’t want to let her children into his life unless he saddled her with his own?

In that moment, Katniss saw a future where she would once again be changing diapers, waiting for a man who was never home.

Suddenly, she was standing up.

“You know what? I’m going to save you the trouble of having to open up to my children. Goodbye, Gale.”

She made her way toward the exit, but not before grabbing the bottle of wine she paid for from the ice bucket.

++++++

Stepping out of the taxi, Katniss looked up her home, comfort washing over her immediately.

This home was where she watched her children take their first steps…where she’d wait at the front door as they stepped off the school bus and into her arms…where Peeta had carried her over its threshold…

They had purchased the two-story colonial-style house after Luke was born with the help of their parents. Since then, they had repaid the loan tenfold and found comfort that their children had a place to go whenever they needed it.

Heading up the brick walkway, Katniss reached into her purse pulling out her key to unlock the door before stepping into the house.

Closing the door, she was surprised to smell the scent of…cookies.

Toeing off her shoes, Katniss headed towards the kitchen and was surprised to find Peeta pulling out a tray full of chocolate chip cookies—her favorite.

“What are you doing?” she asked from the open doorway.

“Thought that you and the kids would like a fresh batch whenever you got home,” her ex replied as he placed the tray on the counter. Peeta pulled the oven mitts off, tossing them beside the cookies. “You’re home early.”

“Dinner didn’t go so well,” she told him glumly. Katniss presented him with the wine bottle in her grasp. “At least I have a consolation gift—that I paid for.”

“Ouch,” Peeta replied. “Well…cookies are the perfect complement to wine.”

She nodded. “Do you remember where the bottle opener is?”

He went to the second drawer to the left of the counter, pulling out the well-loved gadget. “Always.”

++++++

“Do you remember how we used to stay up late to watch R-rated movies after the kids were asleep?” Peeta asked. “I swear there was one point where I wanted to murder The Wiggles.”

“You didn’t know?” Katniss reached to grab another cookie from the coffee table. “I put a hit on them. That’s why you never hear about them anymore.”

The soft glare of the television was the only light in the room. They had discovered an old romcom that was popular when they were teenagers and decided that it would go well with their late-night snack.

Peeta chuckled, sitting back on the couch. He had changed from his ceremony attire to a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants that Katniss had found in her closet. She had also changed into a pair of pajamas while Peeta had set up cookies and wine in the living room.

“If anyone could murder them, it would be you,” Peeta replied. “What time is Addie getting home?”

“I told her midnight was her curfew while she lives here,” Katniss informed him. “Once she’s in college, we will have no say on when she gets home.”

“I’m dreading not knowing what she’s doing.” He turned to her. “Do you think she’s going to come home during the holidays?”

“If she doesn’t want me to go all the way to Stanford to drag her ass here, she will.” Peeta snorted at her words. “She’ll come home. It’s going to be lonely here without her though. Nobody to have mani-pedis with or talk about those stupid reality shows …”

Katniss found herself sniffing back tears. She swiped them away with the back of her hand.

“Ignore me. It’s the wine and ending the most useless relationship in history.”

Peeta waved her over to his side and she scooted in towards him, her head going to his shoulder. She tucked her feet underneath her bottom as he put an arm around her.

“Did you love him?” Peeta asked gently.

“No.” She closed her eyes, taking comfort in the warmth of him. “I’ve had my great love. I don’t need another…I just liked the feeling of someone making an effort to just be with me.”

“And, I wasn’t that way?” he replied tightly.

“Neither of us were making much effort towards the end.” Katniss looked up, seeing his eyes full of hurt. “It was no one’s fault. It just happened. I mean, we didn’t kiss each other anymore.”

“I should’ve kissed you more.” His hand reached to brush her chin and her body tingled, her lower half twisting in that familiar heat. “It was one of my favorite things to do.”

“Until it wasn’t.” Katniss swallowed harshly as she unfolded her legs. They were getting into dangerous territory. Reluctantly, she stood up. “I should clean up—”

Peeta suddenly grabbed her wrist and she stilled at the motion.

Standing, Peeta reached his arm around her waist, pulling her against him.

His other hand went to her cheek. “You’re always going to be my great love. You know that, right?”

Then, his lips were on hers.

Katniss fell easily into his kiss. She always did. Her arms circled his neck as she pressed against him, feeling her nipples tighten against the hard planes of his chest. Peeta’s hands moved down, palming at her ass and she groaned into his mouth, her tongue sweeping into his.

Peeta’s lips moved to her neck. “I forgot how good you tasted.” He sucked against the juncture and she mewled, the heat between her legs growing and her core throbbing. “Do you still taste this good everywhere else?”

“You can find out…later.”

Katniss guided him to sit on the couch as she pulled her unbuttoned her pajama top, shaking it off her quickly. Her breasts were in bare sight, nipples pebbled despite the heat in the room. Her pants were next, and she undid the drawstring before bending down to pull her bottoms down to the carpet.

Peeta stared up at her in awe. “You’re still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

Katniss smiled softly as she placed her knees on both sides of his lap before straddling him. Her lips went to his in a gentle kiss.

“Have you been with anyone else recently?” she asked against his mouth.

Peeta shook his head. “It’s been a year…and it was only once.” He looked to her. “And Gale?

“Never. He hardly came over and I have never been to his apartment,” Katniss explained. “We mostly had dinner or went to shows that his company was sponsoring.”

Peeta tutted. “Shame.” His hands went to her waist. “Who wouldn’t love to be deep inside you?”

Her hand reached under the waistband of his bottoms, finding him hard. Her hand wrapped around him, stroking smoothly to get him ready. He hissed, his eyes closing and his hips following her motions.

“Please don’t make me come all over myself,” he begged. “I don’t think I’d forgive myself if I did.”

“We wouldn’t want that—” Katniss eagerly helped him pull his pants off, her eyes going immediately to his length, standing erect and the tip of it glistening. She missed his cock—or at least her pussy did, as it immediately pulsed at the sight of him. “—I don’t think either of us is going to last.”

His hand went between her thighs, pushing the cloth between aside to plunge two fingers into her sodden core.

“Damn, you’re wet.” His eyes traveled to meet hers as he slid the digits in and out of her before putting them into his mouth. “You taste even better than I remember.”

“I forgot how I loved the way you looked at me whenever we were together,” she told him, her hands hurriedly moving the last piece of cloth. “Like I was the only woman in the world.”

“To me, you are.”

Her eyes filled and she leaned down to give him another kiss before helping him remove his shirt.

“You shouldn’t say things like that,” she admonished quietly.

Katniss looked over her ex-husband, familiarizing herself with his body once more. His chest and shoulders were broader and his abdomen firmer. However, there were other things that were the same; the scar on his shoulder from falling at the school playground and the feel of his strong thighs under her.

“Why not?” he asked her, his hand going to the nape of her neck.

He gently drew her down until their foreheads met and she looked into those blue eyes, dark with hunger. Her heart skipped at the intensity of his gaze and she remembered all over again how easy it was to fall in love with Peeta.

“Because this will be harder to forget,” she told him.

Peeta’s hand went to her hip, guiding her over him.

“I don’t want to forget.”

Then, in one motion, he was inside her.

++++++

“Katniss.”

She looked up from behind the register to find Gale standing before her.

“Hi. What are you doing here?” she asked, rounding the counter. “I haven’t heard from you in…”

“Two months,” he replied sheepishly. “Trust me, you don’t forget when a woman walks out on you at a restaurant.”

Katniss crossed her arms. “You kind of deserved it.”

“May I take you out to dinner to apologize?” Gale looked genuinely sorry for his behavior. “I miss you.”

“You don’t even know me,” she countered.

“Give me a chance—unless you’re seeing someone else.”

Her mind wandered to that night…that perfect night with Peeta.

She had forgotten how perfectly he fit inside her. Peeta had been her first and she was his. When they were younger, he had jokingly told her that her insides were perfectly molded to his cock—any other man’s would never fit exactly right.

And, it was true.

He continued to prove his theory a few more times before she insisted that he leave. It wouldn’t do any good for Adeline to see her father and mother reuniting carnally all over the living room couch.

They were still close, but they understood that it had been once and once only.

Even though the sight of him left her soaked.

Or that, occasionally, if Peeta was close enough to her, he would brush his hand against Katniss’ sending her hormones into overdrive.

She shook herself from her thoughts and looked to the man in front of her.

“There’s no one else,” she told him.

“Tonight? I’ll pick you up after closing.” Katniss nodded and Gale leaned over to kiss her cheek. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“See you then.”

Gale walked out of the store, heading towards the Mercedes parked in the front.

Katniss stretched, feeling an ache in her body. Lately, she had felt off. The stress of Adeline getting ready to leave and unexpected sex with her ex had left her feeling out of sorts.

Yesterday, she nearly tore Luke’s head off for leaving his muddy sneakers by the front door after soccer practice.

There was a beep on her phone, and she looked to find a text from Adeline: ‘Mom, you heading to a Target or a drug store after work?’

She typed back, ‘Wasn’t planning to. Do you need anything?’

‘Some Tylenol and tampons.’

‘Sure babe. I’ll see you later.’

Adeline’s cycle was very similar to her own; it came strong, leaving her sometimes unable to even move.

Katniss added soup to her list of things to grab after closing the store.

It always made them feel better during their periods—

Which she did not have, even though she and Adeline were usually in sync.

Katniss turned from the counter where a calendar featuring men with puppies was—no red circle marking the arrival of her period. She took the calendar off its hook before looking at the previous month.

No red circle either.

Fuck.

Without fail, every graduation ended with her being pregnant with Peeta’s child.

FIN(?)

Really enjoyed writing this one, it would make a great four-parter. Thoughts?

[jasiper]

Royally Stuck (To You)

A Royal AU one-shot in which Jason is the prince of England and he can’t break the rules—except there is one rule he really, really wants to break.

dedicated to my best friend in the whole entire universe, @mcleanspipers , happy birthday! i love you so so much.

From the moment Jason was born, his entire life was planned out for him. His clothes were selected for him every day, his entire education was mapped out before he even took his first steps, and his future—well, he remembers when his father got remarried and a blushing blonde in the second row was pointed out and deemed his future wife and the future Duchess of Wales.

It all seemed fair. Being the prince of England was no small role. He had big shoes to fill and an even bigger image to present to the people. It is not a role he would have chosen for himself, no, but it is one he is stuck with, so he has to make the most of it.

He almost thought he could be happy with marrying the blushing blonde in the second row at his father’s wedding. Almost. He probably would have done so happily (give or take) if he didn’t go to boarding school.

That’s where he met Piper McLean.

After the death of his biological mother, Jason struggled a lot. Growing up with the world watching is not an easy thing. He buried his mother before he could start forming his own memories and gained a stepmother all whilst being known as the grieving prince of England. What better way to cope than to ship your adjusting teenage son to boarding school in the United States. So that’s what King Arthur—better known by his nickname, Zeus, given to him in law school—did. When Jason was sixteen, he was shipped off to some tiny, prestigious boarding school in New England, away from everything he’s ever known. He hated it at first. He missed his sister. He missed his stepmother. And strangely enough, he missed his father. He missed England.

But then he met her.

Piper McLean was witty, charming, and beautiful. She was his debate partner and instantly he liked her. She didn’t kiss up to him because he was the prince; in fact, she couldn’t care he was the prince. Like him, she was angry at being forced to attend a boarding school. She was as royal as Americans could get, being the daughter of a famous actor. Their fathers were more alike than Jason could think possible—instead of maturely dealing with their adjusting children, they sent them away.

However, that drew Jason in.

It took weeks for him to break down her walls. It took even longer to get her to hold his hand and to text him. It took even longer than that to kiss her underneath the stars for the first time. She was his first kiss, his first time having sex, his first love.

Like all first loves, it had to end. Graduation arrived and Jason was sent back to England to go to college. Piper stayed in the United States to pursue her own education. Between their crazy lives, they lost touch. Jason dated that blushing blonde his father pointed out years ago, a lovely girl named Katherine, who was born into a wealthy family and practically raised with the hopes of marrying into the royal family. After feeling what love could be, Jason couldn’t settle. Jason couldn’t marry the blushing blonde.

Fate tore them apart, but it brought them back together. A blind date turned into a reunion. A reunion turned into Jason wanting more.

You can’t go around being seen with an American, Jason, his father yelled when the tabloids swarmed with the pictures of Jason sneaking into Piper’s hotel room the night of the blind date. There are girls you can be seen with and girls you cannot. She is not one of them.

Most of the time, Jason would shut up. He’d bite his tongue, look down and apologize. This time, the words slip out before he can stop them: Don’t you want me to be happy?

We have an image to maintain, was his father’s answer. It doesn’t mean you can be happy all the time.

If Jason has to be a monarchical figurehead with little actual legislative power, he might as well be happy. So that’s what he decided in the moment: he should be happy. In hindsight, sneaking around was probably the most dangerous way to approach the situation, but with essentially no control over his entire life, keeping it a secret was the only out. It’s a loose arrangement, this sneaking around; whenever Piper visits, he goes to her hotel to see her. It’s casual—disgustingly casual, which is hard because the feelings of the past seven years have crept up on him.

Laying awake at night, most of the time alone in his room, he doesn’t feel right. He’s been dubbed the most eligible bachelor in the world yet the one person he actually wants isn’t ‘right’ for him or whatever. She wouldn’t fit his father’s so-called ‘image’; ultimately she is an American. That’s all his people would see.

Except that’s not what he sees. He sees the intelligence, how fast her thoughts move when she approaches him with a case she’s been assigned to (he forgot to mention she’s a fancy hot shot Washington, D.C. lawyer). He sees the resilience, how her name’s been targeted for her father and her mistakes and her job and now her slip-up with Jason. He sees the future they could have, how soft her fingertips are when she touches his cheek and how beautiful she looks asleep next to him and—

“You’ve been awfully quiet tonight.” Piper’s voice brings him back to reality. He blinks, looking over at her as she raises her eyebrows at him. She holds the sheets against her chest, her hair tumbling over her shoulder. He wants to run his fingers through her hair again. “What’s on your mind?”

Jason shakes his head. “Just... you know. Busy. A lot on my mind.”

“Busy.” Piper isn’t buying it. It’s her job to call people’s bluffs. “Mhm. Okay. Whatever you say.”

He hates that she knows him so well but because of his family, they’re just sleeping together. She doesn’t deserve this casualty, this unimportance she probably feels. Despite what it’s coming off as, she’s not just the prince’s escape. She’s what his father envisioned a blushing blonde to be to him—someone who would spend forever with him.

“I am busy. But you’re only here for another day,” he murmurs. He cups her cheek in his hand to kiss her. “I don’t want my sulking to waste our time.”

Piper seems to melt against his touch, leaning in to kiss him back. “You could sulk if you want,” she breathes. “I really don’t mind. Sulking is understandable.”

“I don’t want to,” he argues. He pulls her closer to him, the sheets tangling around their bodies. He wants this, the kissing underneath the sheets. But he hates how they’re in a hotel, sneaking around, hoping to not get caught again.  He hates how this isn’t a nightly occurrence. He has to fake this, unfortunately. He has to fake that he’s okay with this when he isn’t, not at all.

Maybe he should come clean. She knows he liked her once, so long ago at the boarding school in Vermont, so would it really be a shock for him to confess again? She’s smart, she has to sense something, only she’s too polite (and perhaps too intimidated by his power of being prince) to call him out on the sneaking around.

But coming clean would ruin her life. If he’s serious about his emotions—which he is, he can’t deny it anymore—and she was his endgame, she’d lose everything: her home in the United States, her job as a lawyer, her freedom, her sanity, her privacy. What kind of selfish monster would do that to her, especially after his own mother lose all aspects of herself under the spotlight? If his mother hadn’t become princess, maybe she wouldn’t be dead.

Is this what Jason wants? To repeat history? To condemn Piper to life he wishes he could break free from? To potentially send Piper to the same fate as his mother?

Piper abruptly pulls away. Jason blinks in surprise, sitting up immediately as she tears her body away from his. “Pipes?” he asks carefully. It’s almost like she read his mind and sensed his hesitation.

“I can’t... do this anymore,” she blurts out. When his heart drops, she meets his eyes and the brown burns into blue. “I can’t do this without telling you how I really feel about all of this.”

“Feel?” Jason’s heart has crept his way into his throat. “What do you mean? Do you not want to do this anymore?”

“I think,” Piper takes a deep breath and looks away, “I’m falling in love with you.”

If Jason was connected to a heart monitor, he’s certain he’d been flatlining now. He’s sure of it. He isn’t sure he’s even breathing when he manages out, “What?”

Piper sucks in another gasping breath before quickly saying, “I haven’t really, you know, dated since we were together in high school. That’s stupid, right? But who has time to date a lawyer? Who has time to understand what a lawyer goes through? That’s selfish of me to want someone who has to sacrifice all of that just for, what, a half-assed relationship? I’m in trial constantly or I’m traveling to help NGOs and being with me... it would be exhausting. That’s what I told myself, at least. But going on that date with you and seeing you all the time, it made me realize something. I never got over my stupid feelings for you. So I can’t keep sleeping with you because I’m falling in love with you, Jason. I can’t do this unless I’m honest.”

Jason’s mind is working at a million miles an hour. Here he was, accusing himself of being selfish when she’s been doing the same thing. Different motives, obviously, but maybe they’re still seventeen, stuck in the secluded boarding school in Vermont, feeling utterly alone unless they’re together because all they are is kids who were too much to handle. Maybe they’re still seventeen at heart and they can make this work.

But can Jason be that selfish?

“I... I know I’m falling in love with you, Piper,” Jason manages out. Her eyes flash to meet his and he wonders if the room is as warm as he feels. “I’ve known it for a while. If I didn’t feel this way, I wouldn’t risk my father’s anger and the tabloids. Hell, I’m risking being torn apart by the Daily Mail to see you twice a month. But I want this. I... I want more than just sex. I just can’t ask you to do that.”

Piper reaches forward to cup his cheek in her hand. “Why? Why can’t you ask me?”

“Because.” The guilt is creeping its way into Jason’s throat now. “Look at you. You’re brilliant. You’re a successful lawyer that has changed lives. You fight for the rights of people who cannot do so alone. Your life is a whole ocean away. If we... wanted to date, you’d be criticized. Life as the prince’s girlfriend isn’t an easy one.”

“My feelings for you are not fragile,” she says stubbornly. “I know what I want. You are what I want.”

For once, Jason isn’t wanted because he’s prince. He’s wanted because she knows who he is. She knew that seventeen-year-old boy in debate club and somehow she still wants him.

“I can’t ask you to put your reputation on the line to date,” Jason whispers. “I’m not going to.”

“You’re not asking. I’m doing so willingly.” Piper leans even closer. “You are what I want.”

“And if it doesn’t work out?” Jason questions. “What if we try this dating thing and we aren’t as compatible as we think we are?”

Piper musters a smile and Jason’s heart nearly stops again. “I think it’s worth it to at least try. I think you are worth it.”

For the first time in over twenty years, Jason’s life isn’t perfectly laid out before him. He doesn’t see a blushing blonde in his future, the one he refused to settle with—he sees Piper, her warm brown eyes, her vibrant smile, and someone who sees him past the crown and the palace and the shiny law degree.

“Well.” Jason pulls her in for a kiss. “I am falling in love with you, but I can’t lie and say you’re not royally screwed.”

Stifling a laugh, Piper rolls her eyes as she pulls away. “It’s royally settled, that’s what it is. My feelings for you are not going away any time soon and neither am I.”

All the rules implemented for him are broken. All the plans carefully crafted have dissipated before his eyes. He can practically hear his father’s yelling and see the nasty headlines, but for just a moment, he doesn’t care.

This, Jason is certain, is better than any crown.

[kainumbernine009]

I literally cannot do anything else until I get this out.

I’m... really not okay.

And when I say that, I’m not mentally unstable. I say that because I’m tired of waiting on empty promises, I’m tired of never having money in our account, I’m tired of living in a fucking city where half of the white people fucking worship the ground Trump walks on, and where most of the gay community has so much messy drama that it’s worse than middle school. And I went to a rough middle school.

I never talk about my past, because I don’t like to. It sucked. HARD. Being and only child in my family was nothing less than torture, especially as a closeted queer person. We grew up in the white Christian part of Nashville that dominated Music Row in the 90′s and early 2000′s. I played basketball with Alan Jackson’s daughter, and being around famous people was just no big deal. But, my parents decided to leave Nashville after my dad lost his job at TPAC, and we moved down south an hour to the town where the KKK got started (Pulaski, TN).

I had maybe two non-white people in my private Christian school growing up. I was never afraid of Black people, but my parents showed their racist asses quick when we moved there. The KKK has never left America, guys, no matter how many articles you read or studies you do. From 2005 to 2009 I saw a white town show its very worst to the Black community. I’ll never forget the first time I saw a march for “White Christians for Purity” the summer before Obama got elected. The disgust I felt inside was palpable. I had all kinds of friends in school, and I didn’t give TWO SHITS who they were or what they looked like... but I saw children my age, being brainwashed by their parents, that “white” is “right.”

Ever since then, I have been learning and growing about the issues of race. I remember my white classmates using the N word and getting away with it. I remember hearing about the principal at the high school punishing all the Black kids but not the white kids. I remember being invited to a church south of town that was a historically Black church, and how nice the ladies were to me for coming.

But I’ll never forget the racism that the religious groups promoted there, especially First Baptist Church and the 12 Tribes. I’ll never forget how FBC told me that my friend was going to Hell because she killed herself. I’ll never forget my mom telling me not to marry a Black man because of “impure genes.” I WILL NEVER FORGET THE INJUSTICES I SAW WHITE PEOPLE DOING TO BLACK PEOPLE THERE. NEVER.

And thank God, I have shaken the burden of religious guilt, but I still fight against this mentality. I live in a place that’s usually not even 10 minutes away from Trump-humping, sister-fucking, meth-addicted Confederate cunts in any direction. And we’re even closer to the rich white people who silently supported him, upset that their taxes would go up because of Biden.

And in the past four years since Trump got elected, I’ve gotten married, graduated college with honors, started my own photography business, and was making more than my husband there for a minute. I did my own taxes, marketing, editing, and everything. And then I came out as trans.

I lost everything.

I lost my studio. I lost friends. I had rumors started about me. I had people post hate messages on my wall. I had people at my drag shows tell others not to tip me, for whatever fucking reasons. I’ve had bosses give cis people jobs over me, and I’ve had government workers give me second looks when I hand them my license.

It. Fucking. Sucks. To. Live. Here. Like. This.

Oh yeah, did I mention I’m also a witch/medium? I’ve talked to dead people before and have told their relatives things I shouldn’t have known otherwise about their grandparents. Like, this information doesn’t even exist on Google. And I’m attuned to reiki. I’m always aware of what’s happening on at least SOME metaphysical level. This is a gift that I’ve had to go through life developing and learning about myself, with no one’s help but me.

I didn’t even know until I was an adult that I have autism and ADHD.

I’ve taken bullets from people who were about to kill themselves. I’ve yelled at 5th grade music classrooms for doing racist dance moves and appropriating Native Americans (I have a degree in Music Education K-12). I’ve consoled kids in classrooms who suddenly have panic attacks. AND I’ve told horny teenagers to stay in their fucking lane and respect the girls around them. I’ve apparently been an inspiration to those around me, but inspiration NOR exposure pays the bills. I’ve already had COVID, and so has my husband, but I knew that after graduating college that I would never have a fulfilling life being a music teacher in Tennessee’s public schools.

And now that we have COVID, and an orange, small-dicked, pedophilic, rape apologizing, dirty, crusty white president who STILL REFUSES TO CONCEDE, who is DIRECTLY RESPONSIBLE FOR HAVING HIS FOLLOWERS SEND DEATH THREATS TO MY FAMILY, I really don’t know what the fuck else to do other than go burn down all the houses I know of in North Georgia that belong to these Christian sex cult pedophiles and call it a day. My girlfriend unfortunately was born into one of those families, and I know just how bad it can get. In fact, her dad’s lawyer threatened me with blackmail earlier in November, so that was fun!

And now, on December 11, 2020, I’m still sitting here in the same fucking house, doing the same fucking things I’ve been doing all year - trying to get a job and failing horribly. I’M SICK AND TIRED OF THIS COVID BULLSHIT AND OUR INCOMPOTENT CUNT OF A PRESIDENT! And there’s only ever one other person I’ve ever called a cunt... my own mother.

I’ve lived in many places. I’ve met many different people. I’ve made mistakes, and have grown, but there’s one thing for damn sure that I always make sure to do, every single fucking day.

I ALWAYS try to do better.

In addition to this, I treat everyone with the same amount of respect, unless they have done something directly to me to negate that. If I know that someone believes in something that directly harms me or my family, I don’t even associate with them. I don’t spend my energy on things that don’t need it. And everyone else should, too.

The problem with some of y’all is that you care about the wrong things. Like will Becky text me back or did I get front row seats to that concert, or did I slave my life away to capitalism just so that I can own a Mercedes and have my friends jealous. I’ve had way too many dear death experiences to know that EVERY single fucking day is a gift. EVERY day.

I don’t want to be remembered first for the art I create. I want to be remembered for my character. I want to be remembered as the courageous person who never backed down in the face of adversity. But when you live in a place that already hates you and that is against you, that’s really fucking hard. Trust me. My marriage went from a cis straight passing couple to a white gay passing couple. I’ve seen how people’s attitudes changed around me as I transitioned. I know what it feels like to slowly lose a piece of your privilege you were born with.

So yeah, I kinda get a little fucking upset when I see people saying All Lives Matter, or when I see doctors refusing to treat trans patients in pandemics, or when I see cops YET AGAIN harassing Black people only a few blocks away from my house for no other reason than racism. And at this point, anyone who thinks they know me but only knows what people think they know about me can suck my entire ass and eat ten dicks. I don’t give a FUCK about who you are or what you’ve done. If you treat me or other people with no respect for no reason other than to be an asshole, you’re just plain shit. If you SERIOUSLY believe every little rumor and lie that someone tells about me before meeting me, fuck you AND the horse you rode in on.

What I can’t stand is people doing or saying things just to get a rise out of me or others. I thought we left petty shit in high school. Some of the people that “know” me really need to fucking grow up and grow a pair and either say what they want to my face, or stay mad. I’m tired of playing fucking petty games with y’all. We have a whole ass pandemic to solve.

So here’s the ultimatum... if you agree that Black Lives Matter and that queer people deserve basic human rights, EVEN THE ONES YOU HATE, then that’s the bare minimum to even be a decent person. If you can’t even do those things, then I don’t fucking know what else to say to you.

So NBC, maybe not have John Mulaney joke about my license debacle with my gold van on SNL, and Seth Meyers... maybe HIRE ME INSTEAD of Mulaney because clearly y’all don’t know about the south as much as I do? Oh, and that gazeebo joke with Lee University... I caught that. I may have autism, but I’m not a fucking idiot. I mean. I’m funny when I’m given the chance. And yeah, I’m on a watchlist, but who the fuck isn’t these days? At least all my secrets are out for the world to see, and I have a bangin’ tattoo.

I’m tired of everyone being like “omg, I’ve seen what he can do, it’s fantastic!” or “omg you’re so funny haha” and bragging on me and then NOT FUCKING HIRING ME. I’m TIRED of waiting on something that’s clearly at this point never coming.

I don’t even have testicles, and my balls are bigger than most of the cis men I have EVER met.

So, if you want to help me, or hire me, or get me out to an audition... I’ll be there. But until then, I’m so fucking MAD at some of these producers. Yeah, my mom is a cunt, but she worked in various forms of digital production from the 1980′s until she retired this year. She taught me SO MUCH about directing, writing, shooting, and more. I know how these things are supposed to run behind the scenes. I know what the fuck I’m doing, and I don’t take constructive criticism like a bitch. I actually WANT to be criticized, so I can do even better.

So PLEASE, for the love of Christ... y’all need to get your priorities together AND PLEASE STOP LEAVING ME OUT OF THE LOOP WITH THIS BULLSHIT. Grow a fucking pair and either call me, email me, or leave me alone. It’s really not that fucking hard. Looking at you, Lorne Michaels.

Oh and someone tell my husband what the fuck’s been going on because I’m tired of him gaslighting me about it.

[lokis-lady-death]

Falling from Grace

Loki x Reader 

Lady Death Note: This is a story I’ve been working on as a mental health project that’s meant to be a 2 part mini for Halloween (yes I’m late so it’s more Dia De Los Muertos special lol). Part 2 should be up soon, but keep in mind this isn’t meant to be a sweet love story. 

WARNING: This story contains sexual harassment/assault, mention of self harm and mental health

The dull sound of the windshield wiper blades passing back and forth over the glass was enough to lull anyone to sleep, but really everything about this day beckoned one to return to bed. The repetitious splashing of water against the car, the sound of tires rolling through puddles, the screech of brakes that slid across the wet pavement: the symphony of a wet, dreary day made you want to curl up under blankets dry and pretend the world didn’t exist. You didn’t want to do anything. 

Least of all, talk to Dr. Banner. 

Leaning your head against the window, you stared out at the blurry images of buildings passing by. You let out a sigh, catching eyes with your mother in the rearview mirror. She shot you a sympathetic smile you tried to reciprocate, but it was a hard reaction given the circumstances. 

When you looked away, she glanced over at Earl, your step dad, who drove your family in silence down the main street of town to your weekly therapy session. His face was always the same expression of angry and confused, so it wasn't exactly clear how he felt about the whole situation.

Anna, your younger sister, sat beside you mesmerized by her phone like any other teenager her age, her bubble gum smacking. 

A part of you wanted to ask to go back home, to forget this week's appointment, but you knew the answer to that unasked request. 

It had been the same every week, for  several years now, weekly sessions with a different assortment of doctors, all trying to make you 'better'. You weren’t allowed to miss an appointment, and now would be no different 

So you sat lost in your own thoughts while your family road together in the cramped, broken down Oldsmobile until finally pulling up to the  conglomerate of small businesses that shared the street front with Dr. Banner's clinic. 

Before anyone else moved, you were already out of the car, pulling down the hood of your jacket and zipping up the front. The rain was lightly coming down, but when your mother got out with her bulky umbrella, you wondered if she expected a storm. She put a reassuring arm around your shoulders like always, giving you a slight squeeze before releasing you at the sight of Earl opening the door. Anna stayed in the car. 

"Ya gettin' out?" Earl asked expectantly. 

She shook her head, still staring at her phone.

Your mother, in her nauseatingly overloving tone pressed, "You don't need to just sit in the car, sweetie, come on, it won't be long-"

"I’m not sitting in there with those freaks.” Her tone wasn't any nastier than when she first started getting dragged to your appointments, but the words were still enough to send a twinge of guilt to your stomach. 

You knew she hated this, hated you for this, but all you could do was offer, "I can go in by myself, you guys don't have to follow me everywhere." 

Both Earl and your mother turned to you, your step dad leering over the car with a snicker, "We get paid to show the state that you're making an effort to get your shit together, y/n. I ain't risking our money on-" 

"Earl!" 

"No," he answered indefinitely, "We all come together to make sure she does what she's supposed to. That's the deal. Unless you're about to start working more hours at the diner, Janice?" 

He had a nasty habit of talking about you as if you weren't there, but acknowledging it was never useful. 

Especially when he wasn’t entirely in the wrong. 

You had been known to cut sessions, going as far as to leave the house like you were to attend them only to blow them off at the local bookstore. Really the one and only reason anyone in your family even cared about your mental health treatment boiled down to one big factor- money. 

Back when you were a child, you had a near death experience that rendered you, according to the government, handicapped. For that, your family- at the time just you, Anna and your mother-lived off Welfare, Food Stamps, Medicaid and Disability. It wasn't much, but it was enough. 

Then came Earl. 

He swooped in on his magic horse, enticed your mother into marriage, and then began his reign in your income-based-housing as the king. He made sure that you got every benefit you could, down to the last dime so that he didn't have to work, though Janice picked up shifts here and there when she could. It never made sense why your mom would get mixed up with a man like him, but you tried not to dwell on it anymore.

Because the truly unfortunate part? 

When you should have been taken out of the system after graduating high school, you made one cataclysmic mistake that gave Earl just what he needed. He managed to render you legally unfit to live alone, making it impossible for you to move out and get on with your life.

Under court orders, you were forced to live under his roof while the state paid for your family's livelihood. 

The condition for this? You attend weekly therapy sessions and keep a clean record for five years if you ever wanted the chance for a normal life. 

Two years in, at twenty years old, you needed three more of good standing to be able to move out on your own. 

So really you couldn't blame Anna; if you had a defective sibling that cost you your Saturday morning, you'd be pissed off, too. 

You gave the argument, "You got me this far, I think it's safe to assume I can walk inside and wait alone. If nothing else you can stay out here and watch me go in, even go ask Stacy at the front desk if I saw the doctor."

His eyes narrowed, but your mom grabbed hold of your hand and agreed. "I think that's a fine idea. I can take Anna to go look across the street at the department stores, while you go fiddle around in the hardware store. Doesn't that sound like a good way to spend our morning, Earl?" Though she said it so assuredly, she looked back to your step dad for approval. 

Moments like that always made your stomach sick. 

Fuck Earl, and fuck his approval. 

Letting a huff out through his mustache, he waved his hand towards you, looking away as if the sight of you made him ill. "Fine. But I'm going to check in, so don't fuck up-"

"Earl!" 

You took in a breath and stepped away from the car, preferring to make your exit now rather than wait another second. Inside you couldn't help but smile at a familiar face before checking in with the doctor's receptionist. 

"Yo, y/n, they ain't committed you to the nut house yet?" the man you smiled at commented as you walked to the sitting area. He held out a hand that you took and together you shoulder bumped. 

Sam was quite easily one of your favorite people in this godforsaken place, having met him a little over a year ago when he started bringing his friend to see another doctor in the clinic. He had a small frame, but his loud personality was enough for him to make a big impact on you. Between his smooth, brown skin, neatly trimmed goatee, fresh cologne and bright grin, you’d even say he was a good looking guy. 

"Naw, not yet. But today’s a new day, so who knows?" 

He chuckled at that. "Was that your old man I heard outside?" 

Embarrassed, all you could do was let out a shaky laugh. "Step dad. But, yeah, he's just an asshole. So how is our soldier holding up?" 

Sam shook his head, dejected as he admitted, "Not too good. Still a lot of bad dreams. But the doctor is supposed to be giving him something to help with sleep so we’ll see how that goes."

You faced the ground, folding your hands in front of you as you sympathized, "Yeah, hopefully that helps." 

You didn't know too much about Sam and Bucky, but from what you heard, they were soldiers together in Iraq before another friend in their squad died. Bucky had lost his arm while trying to rescue him from the flames of a Humvee that had taken an RPG hit. His body survived but his mind didn’t make it back from the war. 

Just then, a man came into the lobby from the back rooms where patients saw their respective clinicians. His hair was long and shaggy, matching the unshaven fuzz on his face while his downhearted eyes kept down to the floor. One of his hands rested in his hoodie while the left sleeve hung empty at his side. 

"Hey, Bucky, how's it going?" you called out. His eyes came up to meet yours and a faint curl graced his lips. He didn't speak, but to be fair, he only recently reacted to you at all, so this was an improvement. 

Sam went over to the receptionist counter with Bucky as another man with a shaved head walked in. 

This one, with his five o'clock shadow didn't have a hard time with eye contact as he locked onto you immediately, swiping a tongue across his lips. He made a gesture with his hand and mouth to imitate a blowjob. "Hey, sweet cheeks, if you ever lookin to party, hit me up, I don't care if you're a little looney, they say crazy chicks give the best head-" 

"Boy, I'll knock you the fuck out coming in here talking like that to her!" Sam cut at him, his fists already tight. 

"Whoah, whoah! Hostilities, Mr. Wilson, are NOT what any of my patients need!" you heard from the recognizable voice of Dr. Banner. Walking in behind the other man was your doctor, a shorter gentleman with a clean, well pressed suit and large green bow tie. His hair was salt and peppered, his brow thick and furrowed as he went on, "And Ajax, watch your mouth. Remember your exercises, you need to have some control. Now,” he turned to you, his brow relaxing as he offered you his sympathetic smile, “Miss y/n, come on in, I'm ready for you." 

It was strange the way his voice could go from so stern to soft as a feather, but maybe that's why he was so good at talking to people like you. Hell, even the obscene jerk, Ajax, was doing somewhat better, considering the first time you passed him in the hall alone, he cornered you in the bathroom and immediately went to try and expose himself. Fortunately for you, Sam had a small bladder, and unfortunately for Ajax, his right hook was like a freight train. 

All of you ended up keeping the matter to yourselves so Banner didn't kick everyone out of the office. It was because of Banner you, Ajax and Sam's friend Bucky stayed out of the state nuthouse, and as satisfying as it would have been to see police drag Ajax away, losing Banner's support wouldn't bode well for any of you. And comparatively speaking, it wasn’t the worst situation you could have encountered, based on the numerous stories about the deranged psychopath Ajax. 

If the worst thing he ever did in your vicinity was flash his unimpressive, disgusting member, then you could handle it.  

Because in the end it just wasn't worth it. 

So you bottled the discomfort of seeing him every week, even as his comments stayed constant. Not much longer and you could be done with this place. 

But even so, as you passed him by, you couldn't stop the utter look of disgust on your face at the site of him.

You stared at your feet as you beelined past Ajax, ignoring the comment he mumbled. 

"I'd skull fuck you till you eyes popped like a soda can."

Suppressing the nausea of being this close to him, you ignored it, just ready to get the shitshow over and done. 

Inside the room, you plopped down on the black couch just as Dr. Banner closed the door. "How are you doing, Miss y/n?"

Removing the hood from your head, you played off like always, as if a recording of yourself, "I'm doing alright, how about you, Dr. Banner?"

He quirked a brow, taking his usual seat across from you on a leather high-back chair. 

"I'm doing well, thank you. But I meant more like how are you lately? Have you had a good week?" 

"It was fine."

When you didn't elaborate, he went on, "Did you have anything interesting happen? Anything new at home?" You shook your head. "How about plans this weekend?" Again, you shook your head. "Well, how have things been at home? Did you have any… visitors?" 

At that you sucked in you lips, shifting your eyes to a plant he kept in the corner of the room. “That’s really pretty, Dr. Banner, is that an orchid?”

Banner took in a deep breath and rubbed the bridge of his nose to help with the mental strain that was You. 

"Come on, this is about open communication, y/n. Getting it out, letting everything into the open. Surely you can hold up half the conversation?" His thick brows raised in an empathetic style, waiting for you to take hold.  "This is a safe space, you're not going to be punished for telling me anything. I'm not here to judge or berate you, I'm here to help you." Then he ended it all with his signature, sincere twinkle in his eye.

You grunted. 

Of all the therapists you had ever seen, Dr Banner was the only one who could get anything out of you. 

"I…” you rubbed both hands down your face, “I saw him. He came."

Banner leaned in,  producing a small notepad and pen from nowhere while his eyes stayed on you. "The man in black?" You nodded, but knew that wouldn't be enough. "Did you do what we talked about? Did your exercises help?" 

Your hands landed in your lap, your fingers twiddling while your chest had a quick rise and fall. 

"Y/n?" 

"I tried," you finally let out, "I really did, doctor, I just…”

"Are you afraid of him?" 

To that you didn't answer, didn't make eye contact. Your breath left you at the allegation. 

Were you afraid?

It had all began when you were just four years old, out fishing in the pond at your grandparent’s house with your dad in the dinky row boat he had used since he was a kid. You remembered how excited you were when he let you take the pole, how fearless you felt until the line gave a sharp tug. He tried to talk you through reeling it in, but it was quickly clear you couldn’t pull hard enough. 

Taking the pole, he tried maybe three more seconds before the boat toppled over at a sudden jerk. 

No one ever could figure out how it happened. 

You didn’t remember anything after falling into the water except your tiny hands clawing desperately at the side of the slick boat to try and hold your head up. 

But you sank like a rock. 

That’s when your memory held the key moment that would change your life forever. 

Choked on pond muck, your eyes were still open but didn’t have the same sense of life they once held. You hadn't even processed what had happened, or the fact that really you were already dead, when you saw Him for the very first time. 

Dressed from head to toe in all black, with black long hair creating a halo around his white face, it could have well been from the midday sun shining behind him, but the man in black seemed to glow like an angel. His avocado colored eyes met yours with concern, his lips moving to speak but you couldn’t tell what he was saying. 

After all, you were already dead. 

Yet against all logic, in that instant you coughed up what had flooded your lungs, hurling to the side so as not to gag. Your mother and grandparents had just started running towards you when you could make out, clear as the nose on your face, the outline of the man in black walking away.

In the beginning it appeared you managed to come out of the whole incident with only a fear of water along with the belief of a guardian angel watching over you. Your father, however, was not so fortunate. His subsequent death was what many attributed to your belief in the man in black and, eventually, your decline in sanity. 

"He's not real, y/n,” Banner reiterated, shattering the flashback as you came crashing back to the here and now. “That's something you know now. He's not real, he can't hurt you, not unless you let his existence push you like before. As long as you know, in your mind, he isn't real, that it's you in control, then that's what'll get you past this."

You hated when that unfortunate event got brought up, even when it wasn't meant to be a jab at you. 

After the first time you saw him, the man in black became an obsession. Day after day, you kept asking your mother to find out who it was that had saved you from drowning, even though she insisted no one else was there besides your family. It was something you constantly spoke about, much to everyone’s annoyance, but having just lost your father they all turned a blind eye.

What was the harm of an imaginary savior for a four year old? 

It wasn’t until a few months later that you started seeing him, or at least, an outline of him. Where his face was somewhat discernible at the pond, now he was a distorted image in the corner of rooms, or off standing in the distance outside. At first, you were excited to see him. You couldn’t wait to show him to your mother, to introduce him as the man who had saved your life. 

The problem became clear when no one else could see him, but progressed when he started appearing more often. 

In the beginning you admired the man in black,  even at a certain point growing fond for him. When you first hit puberty, you innocent pubescent mind fantasized about him being some entity that was meant to love and protect you. In your head, you created this identity for him that didn't ever entirely go away.

And as you grew more curious, he seemed to start coming closer. 

The first time he came close was when he suddenly appeared before you in the hallway in middle school. In any other circumstance, you might would have been happy with the progress you'd made with him, but this wasn't what you felt in that moment. Rather than have the slightly distorted image of a face, what you saw was more like a moving shadow. His arms stretched out and you could see blackness emanating from him, unlike anything you had ever seen. 

It felt like you couldn’t breathe, yet you somehow managed to scream, throwing your books to the ground to huddle into the fetal position. 

Everything just snowballed from there, leading to several psych evaluations, hospital stays, medications, and, most notably now, therapy sessions. Nearly everyone was certain you were making it up for attention as a high strung teenager that needed to be the center of everyone’s world, and that it would, one day, pass. It began to be something you no longer told others about, keeping the details of the growing issues to yourself as the years went by and the man in black became more and more brazen.

At its worse, there were nights where you laid completely catatonic in your bed, your heart pounding to the point of making you nauseated, all while he floated mere inches from your face, his body- black like he were clothed but too blurry to make out- floating parallel to yours. 

What made this so disturbing was the empty, white vastness where his face should have been that you couldn't look away from. It felt like he was staring holes into your soul. 

Somehow you managed to keep the worst of it to yourself until one particularly awful day your senior year when classmates teased you, calling you a freak and a liar. It had been hard living down that you saw someone no else believed existed, especially after your mental breakdown in the hall years earlier.

Kids tended to be cruel, and teenagers even moreso. 

That particular day, some classmates followed you in the halls, calling you names, making jokes behind your back, their snide remarks etching more and more into you like ice being chipped away by a pick. You kept your face low, reasoning that if you just ignored them they would stop. 

They didn’t. 

For nearly five hours you endured their cruel words with no remarks of your own until finally you couldn’t take it anymore. 

You were so upset and enraged by everyone's taunting laughs that you took the scalpel from the Biology lab and sliced down your arms. 

In your head, the man in black had saved you in the pond. 

Surely he would save you again, here, in front of everyone. 

They would see, they would all know- that he was real, just as you always said. 

But two days later when you woke up in the psych ward of the hospital strapped to the bed, you drew up the painful realization that everyone had been right. The man in black was, in fact, all in your head. 

It all led you here, to this exact moment, in this exact place, facing Dr. Banner and telling him something to get through the session as you had done for years now. "It's not that I think he’ll hurt me, it's just that… Even though I know he's not there, it's like I can't…" You brought your fingers up to your chest, urging your heart to slow down. It was hard putting how you felt to words, because truthfully, you didn’t know. "I've been seeing him so long. I used to beg him to talk to me, to talk to my mom, to let everyone know he was there, but he never did. I think I'm just afraid if I tell him to leave..." you glanced up through your lashes.

Banner nodded understandingly. "You'd miss him." 

Hearing it out loud sounded so ludicrous you cringed. “He's familiar, " you reasoned. 

"Well, you've seen him since the pond incident, so I can understand you wanting to hold onto some remnants of that. You thought he was your protector. But, you realize now he's not real. I'm real. Your mother’s real. Anna’s real. We are a part of your support group, we are who you can come to in crisis. Not the man in black."

You looked down at your hands, having heard all of this before, and let out a simple, "Yeah." 

"Y/n, I'm going to make a suggestion. Do you think that you could stay in the hospital a few days?" Your eyes widened, horrified at the thought of being in the psych ward again Seing your anxiety, Banner quickly backtracked, "It wouldn't be like last time, this time it would be purely for investigating these problems you're having. I have a colleague that has ran some basic neurological trials for patients dealing with similar cases of PTSD and I think it could be beneficial in your case, perhaps even-"

"I don't want to stay in a hospital," you cut him off. 

As ill as everyone treated you, as crazy as you appeared, you couldn't take a hospital stay, it was just too much. 

Banner leaned towards you, laying his hand across yours. "It's common for people who have gone through traumatic events to lock onto something that may have given them security. For you that was the man in black. In your child-mind, it was easy to take this imaginary person and put them into your life as a safety net. You gave him this story, that he saved you from drowning, like a guardian angel as you used to put it. But as that manifested into something… troubling, now you know how important it is to focus on reality. I know moving on is difficult but that's a part of this whole process, y/n. The neurology aspect just gives us a little more insight. What I mean is, it’s possible there was actual brain damage done during your… incident that could cause these hallucinations.” There was no change in your reserve and the good doctor sighed. “But if you're not willing to do it now, I won't make you." When you didn't look up, he offered, "Maybe, rather than tell him he's not real, tell him he's no longer needed anymore. You're strong, y/n, you don't need to hold onto imaginary saviors. You just need to let yourself see how much you can do when you believe in yourself-"

And just like that, an hour flew by with more of Dr. Banner's wisdom and finally you were allowed the sweet release of freedom. 

When you walked back to the lobby, Earl was already at the registration desk talking to Stacy. She gave you a short wave while you walked passed them out the door. Anna and your mother were already sitting in the car to hide from the rain, your sister face deep in her screen. You slid into the back seat without a word when she asked, “How’d it go?” 

You quirked a brow. “Fine?”

“Good.”

“Good?” 

“Good,” she nodded, leaving you more confused.

Your mother turned in her seat, beaming over at the two of you. “You gonna ask your sister about tonight?” she pressed Anna, who took in the most dramatic sigh and eye roll you had ever seen. 

“Tom said his dad is letting him throw a party tonight, but Earl said the only way I can go is if you go.” 

She wasn’t particularly beggy but you could tell by the wideness in her eyes that she was begging you to be a normal older sister and help a girl out. Just then, your step dad slammed his door and started pulling out of the parking lot. 

“I wouldn’t know any of those kids-”

“You would know his older brother, he graduated with your class-”

You scoffed as obnoxiously as possible, leaning back in your seat to look out the window. “Yeah, that’s gonna be a hard no.” 

Just as Anna was about to start her signature ‘Why is the world against me, my life is garbage, I hate my family’ spiel, you saw the glint in Earl’s eye in the rear view mirror. 

Of course he didn’t want Anna to go out, he knew you wouldn’t agree to see anyone who would recognize you from school. 

Feeling a fire burn in your gut, you cut your eyes in her direction. “You know what, on second thought, that sounds cool. I’m in.” 

Earl mumbled a few curses while shooting you ugly looks in the mirror while Anna gave you a hollow thanks. 

Turning away from everyone, you watched the rain dance down the window to the tunes of the radio’s static. 

Once the car went into park outside of your apartment complex, you darted to the door through the rain. Anna followed suit, rushing your mom while she tried to juggle her purse and massive umbrella to search for her keys. She unlocked the door and your sister barged in past her while Earl stepped around, nearly making her drop her things. You took her umbrella from her hands while she fumbled with her bag some more. 

“That’s why you’re my favorite,” she whispered you with a weak smile and tired eyes. 

Looking away, you folded the umbrella and set it outside the door to dry, ready to lay down in your bed. Catching you just before you made it to your room, your mother stopped you with a fistfull of pills. 

You frowned. “You know if I take that, I'll pass out-”

“Dr. Banner wants you taking these three times a day to help with the… uh…”

“Hallucinations,” Earl cut in from the living room where he had already set up in front of the TV. Your eyes narrowed in his direction but  took the meds without another word. 

“Don’t forget about the party,” Anna made sure to remind you before you closed your door. “I wanna leave here at six.” 

You threw her a thumbs up, closed the door, and leaned back against it to take a breath. Five deep, calming breaths to help ease your nerves was something Banner had introduced you to,and though you hated to admit it, there were some soothing qualities to it, especially after dealing with your family. 

Feeling a bit of tension release it’s hold on you, your eyes opened to your bedroom. It wasn’t much, but you appreciated your own space too much to care. Thick doubled curtains hung over the windows that lined either side of your bed, where a blue quilt and pillows were tossed around in constant chaos. Other than the bed, you had one particle board dresser and an old liquor crate you used as a night stand. Along the generically tan-painted walls, you had hung posters of your favorite bands like AC/DC, Metallica, and Motley Crue. 

Three things about your room were guaranteed: first, your floor was always spotless, second, your room was never childish, and third, you kept it dark. 

Why?

Because you never knew when you would have a visitor. 

It was a conscious thing you always had in the back of your mind, that no matter the time of day or what you were doing, the man in black could appear at any moment. 

And while others would leave every light in their house on and not concern themselves with appearances, you practically left open the proverbial front door, hoping to see him again in the same way as when you were a child. 

A real person.

It was a sick thing you’d never admit to another soul, but you wanted to see him so bad that you basically gave him an open invitation. 

Face planting into the softness of your mattress, you buried yourself in the blanket and soaked up the dark stillness of your room. Taking a few more relaxing breaths, you rolled onto your side, wrapping your arms and legs around one of your thicker pillows. You drifted off to sleep. 

It was hours later when you started stirring, at first stretching out your limbs and arching your back. But as your eyes opened, you inhaled sharply at the sight of the man in black standing in the corner of your room. 

Just as the times before, he was a blurred copy of a person, a dark stain in space with his face an empty white void. Your breath became shaky while you kept your eyes on him, afraid if you looked away he would vanish.

Or get closer. 

Swallowing, you slowly raised yourself on the bed. 

Do you ask him to speak like you had done the countless other times he appeared?

Or did you do your exercises from Dr. Banner and tell him you don’t need him?

The choice was taken from you when Anna knocked abruptly with the reminder, "Don't forget we have plans!" 

 "I didn't forget, I'm getting up," you called out blankly, disappointed at the disruption. The man in black was gone and once you checked your phone, you realized it was time to get ready to leave. 

With an unenthused grumble, you rolled off the softness onto the cold hard floor. 

You opted to change clothes, choosing a black Metallica shirt with denim shorts. Still hearing the rain pouring outside your window, you grabbed your hoodie and slipped into your flip flops. 

Catching your reflection in the mirror on the back of the closet door, you wrinkled your nose at the plainness of your face. Walking out into the hall, you slipped unnoticed into the only bathroom in the apartment, quietly clicking the door shut. You opened up the vanity drawer and started digging at different things until finally coming up with a halfway decent makeup job. Heavy eyeliner, mascara and dark lipstick were as far as you got before Anna threw open the door. She was dressed in a lacey, spaghetti strapped romper that exposed the mauve bralette she wore underneath. 

“Awesome, you’re ready, let’s go. Earl finished his first twelve pack and I'm ready to get out before it has time to settle.” 

Leaning out the door, your eyes cocked towards the balding spectacle of a man laid back in the recliner in front of the TV. Making a sick face, you agreed, “Yeah, let’s get out of here.” The two of you grabbed up your things and made it to the door until you realized the car key wasn’t on the key holder. “Shit!” 

Anna’s shoulders stiffened, then relaxed again at the sight of your mother walking out of her room. “Hey, mom, keys?” she mouthed dramatically though only whispers came out. 

She nodded with a large grin, retreating into her room to reappear moments later with the keyring. Quietly handing it off to Anna, not you, she wished you both a nice evening and reminded you to stay safe and keep up with your phones. 

The two of you quietly left the apartment and piled into the car, with Anna plopping down into the driver’s seat. “I can drive,” you mumbled, though Anna raised a brow. 

“You’re not supposed to drive cause of your meds and I ain’t gonna die tonight.” 

Rolling your eyes, you slid into the passenger seat, leaning all the way back and closing your eyes. “Then by all means.” 

Watching from the laid back position, you saw the buildings fade away as more trees popped up into view. Tom’s home was just outside town in the suburbs in one of the nicer subdivisions. The houses started spacing out more and more as the homes got larger and larger before finally arriving at a house that seemed too big for any normal sized family. Several cars were already outside when Anna pulled the car up to the curve. 

Before she could kill the engine, you told her, “Well this has been fun, but I’m gonna take off.”

“What? We just got here?” 

Your nose crinkled in the direction of the house as you answered, “Look, it was nice of you to think of me, but I don’t wanna hang out with you kids. I’m gonna go find something else to do.” 

Looking down at her hands, you saw something shift in your sister’s expression, something you hadn’t noticed in a long time. Sympathy. “Look, about what I said earlier, you know I don’t think you’re a freak right?” She looked back up to meet your gaze, her eyes glassed over. “And my friends, they’re not jerks, they’re not gonna be mean to you. Why don’t you come in, you might actually enjoy yourself.” 

There was no changing your mind, you knew you didn’t want to be here. Offering her a head tilt and sideways grin, you shot back, “I know, Anna. I just feel like being alone right now.” 

“Okay. But you aren’t taking the car.” 

You sucked on your teeth, making a smacking noise then climbed out, sighing just before you closed the door. 

"Y/n, if you change your mind?"

You didn't look back, simply waved your hand. As you started down the sidewalk. There was no doubt in your mind that you didn't want to be at that party, not even a small inkling that you wanted to be around those people. 

Besides, if you were alone, there was always that chance you'd see Him again. 

It hadn't been twenty minutes until you came to a bench at a small intersection. Pulling the phone from your pocket, you started aimlessly scrolling through social media.

*****

It had been several hours and you had made it through three accounts, dug two years deep into one person's life (by accident of course) and even read through emails on an account you only owned to have accounts on other websites, you were ready to be done with the night. 

Stretching out your legs, you realized how stiff you had gotten. 

"Alright, I'm done with this," you texted your sister, "It's time to go home." 

Closing your phone, you were just about to slip it in your pocket when a strange sound cut through the air. You froze in place, narrowing your eyes down one of the incoming streets. It was the sound of tires screeching down the road, music from a radio blaring with unrecognizable lyrics through the night. 

Rolling your eyes at yet another display of idiocracy of man, you went to start back towards where you left your sister. Ignoring the truck, you went on down the street a little further, your mind idling back to your appointment with Dr. Banner earlier. It wasn't the first time he had mentioned going inpatient with a neurologist to try and see if your trauma could be linked to some sort something, you didn't know what, but maybe more physical than psychological. It was an interesting theory, but in truth the idea of being in a hospital for any period of time didn't show any appeal whatsoever. 

Your mind was a million galaxies away, oblivious to the world, only to come crashing down at the sound of a purring  engine rolling up behind you. Still, you kept your pace and tried to ignore it. 

After another few minutes, you had to fight the urge to turn around. 

Until you heard a familiar voice catcall through the night. 

"Hey, sweet cheeks, ya lookin lonely without soldier boy hanging around." 

The blood in your veins turned to ice and your stomach flipped inside your guts. The unmistakable sound of Ajax calling out was too horrific to imagine. 

Not here. 

Not now. 

It was so late at night you couldn't be certain anyone else would be passing by and your sister still hadn't answered your text. 

"Suga lips, I know you hear me." 

The truck was rolling steady right behind you but you kept walking, kept your eyes straight ahead. 

 That is, until it stopped and the distinct click of a door opening made you turn around by instinct. That's when you saw there were other men, not just Ajax, leering at you through the tinted windshield, but it was he who had hopped out and was starting towards you. 

"Hey, come on now, I just wanna talk," he started, "I haven't been able to stop thinking about about that mouth of yours…"

"Yeah, come on chicken legs, why don't you let us give you a tide," another man added, followed by the animalistic cracked from others in the truck. 

Frowning, you couldn't stop the roll of your eyes or tilt of your head, turning back to walk on your way. You hoped that would be enough to deter him, to show him you weren’t scared, while also helping you put more distance between you. 

You didn't recognize. The sound of footsteps speeding your way, not in as quick as it happened. The unexpected bash to the back of your head was too hard, too swift, it knocked you out before your body even collided with the concrete. 

*****

"Y/n?" 

A gentle voice called out your name, both foreign and familiar. It was gone before you could discern it, though it didn't feel of any consequence. 

Opening your eyes, the sky above you was a brilliant blue with just the right amount of white, clouds streaming through the atmosphere. Around your body, you could feel water flowing gently to guide you down a river. 

It was rather abruptly that the water began to become rapid. Turning you one way and another. At first it was gentle enough, but steadily it began to toss you back and forth. Your body rocked back and forth, never allowing you control yourself to try and swim to safety. 

Through the air, the voice came again, more abruptly and alert. 

“Y/n!” 

*****

Your eyes popped open with your heart pounding. This wasn’t a river you were flowing down, there was no blue sky or peaceful scenery. The strange sensation of being tossed around by rapids was actually the struggle of two men you didn’t recognize pulling your limp body in two directions. 

That’s when you realized what was happening. 

They were removing your bottoms. 

Wasting no more time, your body jerked as you moved past the stinging on the back of your head, taking them men off guard and managing to get dropped onto the hard ground, but not at the loss of your shorts. Your bare thighs scraped against rocks and dirt as you scrambled to your feet. 

All you could make out was they had brought you somewhere away from the neighborhood you were once in, the only thing remnant of civilization the cheaply laid dirt road they had pulled off of. There were several tall trees blocking the night sky and moon, the only light you had from the truck’s headlights. 

Barely making it five feet, you felt wide arms wrap around your waist and jerk you backwards. 

“Let me go!” you screamed, kicking, scratching, and slapping at whatever had taken hold of you. 

“Feisty bitch, aren’t you?” the man commented, throwing you backwards against the hard ground. You landed with a hard thud on your shoulder before trying again to get to your feet. 

A foot came forward and caught you in the stomach, violently knocking the air out of you to the point of gagging. 

“Holy shit,” you could distinguish as Axel spoke up. A hand came down and lifted your head up by your hair, “Who would have thought the quiet crazy girl would put up such a fight!” 

Your eyes were watery when you opened them, desperately pleading, “Please, don’t-” 

A hard set of knuckles met your cheek, your being the only thing keeping you from collapsing back against the ground like you were simply a boxing bag. 

The warmth of blood trickling down your face and strong smell of iron made your nauseous on top of the pain in your stomach. 

“Shit, I think you broke her nose!” a man laughed. 

Ajax’s free hand came around to inspect your cheek, turning your face so he could get a better look. “Nah, she’s aight, aren’t you sweet cheeks? But, maybe I need to call you something else now?” Another series of cackles rang out. “Aight, so, are you gonna play nice, baby? I hate to have to lick you ‘gain, but you can’t be whining, don’t nobody want to hear that.” 

 There was no controlling your sobbing, even at fear of getting hit again. The pain in your face and body was excruciating, unlike anything you had ever felt. The shatter of your nose cartilage and crunch of your lower ribs were enough to make your whole body convulse, adding to the horror of your reality. 

 But even as your eyes flooded with tears, you managed to make out a disillusioned being lurking just beyond the trees, a light glow of green forming around it. 

Your chest thudded. 

Not looking back at the men shuffling around you, you called out the only defense you could muster. “Help me!” you hollard frantically. “I know you’re there, I believe in you, I know you’re real, PLEASE!” The knuckles came against your face again, this time catching your in the ear. All you could hear was a distortion of ringing, but you didn’t let that stop you, looking back to the woods where you could see the glow, you called out again, “Please, please! Help me!”

You could hardly even hear the men laughing at your desperation, commenting amongst themselves as you pleaded with seemingly empty space to come to your rescue. The hand holding your hair released you, allowing your body to slink to the ground, exhausted, as each man began to undo their belt buckles. 

“Please,” you whispered quietly, keeping your eyes closed tight, certain of what would come next, “Please, save me.” 

A wind picked up, just enough to send a chill through the air that sent a shiver down your spine and caused the men to halt in their spot, just before a disembodied voice came from nowhere and everywhere all at once. “If you truly wish it, I will come.”

The headlights behind you shattered, startling you so badly that the only thing your torn body could do was pull together in the fetal position on your knees. Managing to keep yourself from screaming, you closed your eyes and shed several more teardrops. 

If you weren't looking, if you were still, if you were quiet, maybe whatever had occurred would simply ceist. 

Maybe, just maybe, if you prayed hard enough, everything that was happening would simply end.

Another second passed and nothing else happened, leaving you with nothing that could be done but open your eyes to whatever was unfolding. You lost all breath at the sight of two large boots standing in front of your own bare feet. You were unable to breathe, unable to think, at the sound of a distinctive voice cutting through the air, “But be careful what you ask for, pet.”

The man in black had actually come.

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[trashforhockeyguys]

Remember You Young- Jeff Skinner

A/N: 100% didn’t plan this, it just kind of happened. So enjoy. Basically inspired by Remember You Young by Thomas Rhett.

You watched him interact with the younger fans. It didn’t seem all that long ago that he was the kid begging for someone to sign his jersey. You couldn’t help but smile, he seemed so grown up now. But even still, you couldn’t help but see him as the kid you’d grown up with. You couldn’t help but remember what it had been like to be by his side and watch him grow.

 Hadn’t it just been yesterday that you were causing hell on the Friday nights that he didn’t have hockey? Or having him sneak out after a coach set curfew so all of you could hang out? How many nights had he climbed the tree outside of your window, just so you could spend more time together? Or how many times had you stolen something out of your parent’s liquor cabinet before heading off to a party with him?

 But this man before you wasn’t that little boy anymore. There was still traces of him of course. You could still see him in the dimpled smile, or whenever he had a mischievous gleam in his eyes. Sometimes even during a game after he’d gotten away with something.

 You saw the boy you’d fallen in love with more behind closed doors. But even though he’d grown up, matured more than you’d thought he could, he was still your boy. He was still your best friend, the love of your life, your ride or die. He was still everything you’d ever wanted and more.

 It’s funny how you’d both changed over the years, but you were still exactly what the other needed. When you were younger, you both needed someone to allow you to escape from the stress of high school and the impending doom that was the future. You both needed to have fun and blow off some steam. But now both of you needed stable. He needed someone to keep him grounded in the midst of his career, and you needed a stable man who was offering you a future.

You’d allowed each other to grow in your own ways. He’d given you the space you needed in college to finally feel independent, but you also knew that he’d call you every night after a game because he just needed to hear your voice. He knew that you’d come to see him, wherever he was, at least once a month, because you’d just miss being with him.

 By your sophomore year of college, you were ready to transfer so you could be close to him. You missed him, you missed the fun boy you’d grown up with, but more importantly, you missed the man you knew he was becoming.

 Watching him now, you couldn’t help but feel proud. You knew he’d become someone that he would’ve looked up to ten years ago. The thought almost moved you to tears. You’d been there every step of this long journey. All of the late nights that you spent assuring him that he deserved to be where he was, all of the times you listened to him talk about how uncertain his future with his team was. He’d sent care package after care package during every single one of your finals and exams. He was the first one there for your graduation, with a massive bouquet of roses. You were always there on the glass for every game you could make, proudly wearing his jersey.

It didn’t matter where the two of you went, and if you went together or not. You’d never not see him as that kid. He could go and change as much as he wanted, but you’d always be able to see little glimpses of him. Whether that meant seeing it on the ice, or during an interview, or simply while the two of you were on the couch watching tv. He’d always be the teenage boy that stole your heart without you realizing.

 You were fifteen when you finally realized that you actually loved him. It was turning a hockey game, you were watching him just like you always did. Somewhere between the first puck drop and the final buzzer, you realized that you didn’t want to live without him. Maybe it was the way that he was always smiling, or how he skated right to you when he scored, or maybe it was just him. You weren’t sure. But after the game, while the two of you were at dinner, he made the first move and then it was full speed ahead after that.

 “What’s that look for?” he asked after he was done.

 “Just reminiscing, that’s all.”

 He smiled at you and pulled you closer so he could kiss you. Even all these years later, you still felt the same way that you did when he first kissed you. You still felt the same spark when he touched you. You continued you fall further and further in love with him every single day.

 “C’mon, let’s go home.”

 He grabbed your hand, his fingers grazing the ring that he’d put on your finger the week before. You hadn’t imagined that you’d get this far when you were sixteen. But now you couldn’t see yourself with anyone else. He was your past, and now he’s your future too. You’d follow him to the ends of the world if you had to.

 You leaned your head on his shoulder as he drove. You wished you could fully put into words how much you love him. But out of all of the words in the English language, you’d never be able to fully articulate everything.

 You didn’t even have to think about saying yes the day he proposed. He didn’t make a huge deal of it, because he knew you would’ve hated it if he did. Instead, he just started talking about your lives together while you were walking through a park. Next thing you knew, he was stopping and dropping down on one knee. You started crying instantly, you never thought you’d be that one to cry, but you did. He launched into a long speech about how much you meant to him, and how he could never imagine his life without you. You’d had the hardest time letting him get through it all before you said yes. But you did say yes.

 “I can’t wait to marry you,” You suddenly blurted out.

 He raised your hand and kissed your knuckles, right over the ring, “I know baby, neither can I.”

 Nearly a year later, in the early summer heat, you walked down the aisle. You did your best not to cry as you walked towards your fiancé, your future. You giggled when one of the other boys gave you a thumbs up, mouthing how beautiful you looked. Meanwhile, your soon to be husband had his hand over his mouth, but you could still see the dimpled smile and the tears that threatened to fall.

 “For worse or for better,” You whispered to him.

 “From now ‘till forever.”

 He twirled you around the dance floor for hours. You couldn’t stop smiling the entire night. Eventually, you were able to slip away for a moment and enjoy a simple glass of wine. You watched your families all interact together. His sisters were all talking with your brothers and cousins, while his brother was off talking to some of your old friends. His teammates were all goofing off on the dance floor, having the time of their lives.

 You eventually caught him looking at you with a big smile on his face. Once you locked eyes with each other, he made his way over to you. You could see a sort of reminiscent look in his eye. A look you knew very well.

 “What?”

 “Nothing, just thinking about how you used to hate wine.”

 “When?”

 “Back when all you liked was shots of tequila,” he replied, “Remember that summer where all we did was shut down bars?”

 You laughed, the memories of that summer were foggy at best. But you remembered a few really good nights. You also remembered how happy the two of you had been that year. That was the last year that you’d spent apart before you transferred schools and moved in with him.

 “I hardly remember, but I remember enough.”

 You set your wine glass down and pulled him back towards the dance floor. They weren’t exactly playing a slow song, but all you wanted to do was sway in his arms. You just wanted him to hold you close and take in this night.

 Eventually, the two of you started dancing with our childhood best friends, the group that had been there through it all. Then his teammates joined in, one life joined with another. You laughed so hard throughout the night that you could feel a headache coming on. But you felt nothing but pure joy and love.

 You married your childhood best friend, your rock, the absolute love of your life. You were his wife, he was your husband. You wished you could go back and tell your teenage self, who was so worried about how he felt, that you’d end up marrying him.

 He chose you. You chose him. And now you two got to spend the rest of your lives together. You could continue to grow together, and be on the wild ride that was life, together.

 “I love you, Y/N.”

 “I love you, Jeff.”

 You’d known for years, that no matter how much time went by, you’d always love him like this. You didn’t think there was anything that would ever change that. No trade, no playoff record, not even the Stanley Cup. You’d love him until the day you died. You’d be at every game that you could because you loved seeing him play. You’d miss him every time he left for a road trip. You’d beg him to take you out for food at 2am because you wanted a burger.

 “Here’s to forever, Mrs. Skinner,” He leaned down to kiss you.

 “You’re so cheesy, oh my god.”

 “Yeah, I know. But you’ve stayed with me all these years.”

 “I don’t plan on going anywhere, don’t worry,” You promised, “You’re stuck with me,”

 You held up your ring finger and grinned. You hoped this feeling never went away. You hoped he’d never stop looking at you the way he was in that moment, eyes full of love and adoration. You hoped you never stopped loving each other the way you had since you were teenagers.

 “Until forever.”

[princelockedinatower]

Peppermint

The dark streets aren't a place for anyone or anything at night, that is... except for the ones who have no place within the light to begin with. 

I and the others I am meeting are the exception. 

I waltz down the carriage lanes of this old sleepy town in my favorite dark jeans and a black knitted sweater, a forest green cloak draped over me with the hood down, catching wisps of dark figures in the corners of my eyes. These creatures are not quite of this world, nor is the figure, visible only by the translucent outlines of white waltzing along with me tonight. The common folk need not fear these creatures, unless you know they exist they are impartial. Then even if you do, leaving out some seeds and honey as an offering will keep you from harm, give them blueberry tea if you want some good luck. 

Tonight I climb the hill just beyond the old yew tree the fae adore and that everyone refuses to cut down least they fear a despicable end. No one besides me and a few others dare to climb it at night, they say strange things happen there, dark figures prowling about almost like regular animals, yet their limbs too long and narly. When climbing you’ll get an ice chill down your spine, a sinking feeling in your gut and the one clear thought you can manage out is something along the lines of: I should not be here. 

The way I and the other I am meeting ward this off is by leaving generous offerings before we ascend. I find McDonald's fries generally please them, so arriving at the foot I leave four extra large fries and a pack of chicken nuggets, right beside my coven’s other offerings. I can see no figures awaiting me from where I stand, a bad sign usually but I start up the hill against my better judgment. 

Reaching the top, my calves are burning, the trek never gets easier. I lean down to massage my right calf, my dyed red hair falling around me and pale skin a sharp contrast in the full moon’s light. As my hood falls over my eyes I spot two figures lying on the ground, one covered with a light blue cloak, dark tightly braided hair and face peeking out, the other a maroon cloak and a hot pink dress. 

I address the girl with the maroon cloak first “You hiked this thing in heels? What are you? Cat woman girl?” I ask rummaging through my bag for my supplies. 

Bonita laughs “You wish hun, got your supplies?” she says sitting up elbowing Makena. 

I nod, both of them standing and whipping out their supplies from their own bags. 

We start to set up the temporary alter as Makena speaks, getting our attention “Bonita, Roxy-” she hesitates on her next words, half way done her particular task to set up “This might be the last time we pray and do a spell together, you know, with all of us off to college in a few weeks,” she says, her voice wavering a bit while fiddling with her long curly hair. 

Bonita’s eyebrows shoot up and she makes a face before chuckling “If you’re implying that we’re gonna grow apart sweetie while we’re in college you better evaluate dear Roxy’s OCD level schedule of communication and visits,” 

Makena blushes and shrinks but laughs with us at my expense. 

We make short work of setting up the rest of the altar and preparing to pray. 

Tonight I’m going to pray to Sarasvati for help forming and performing my Valedictorian speech, something I desperately need. I’ve been rewriting it for a week now and still haven’t made any headway. I also need to pray to my main hoe Soma to make Grad amazing and Dhat to bless the spell we’re about to do. I’m not sure what Bonita and Makena pray about, or who to, guess I never really asked. Regardless we each get into our preferred positions and pray to whichever gods and goddesses we choose about whichever we want. 

The graduation ceremony took place in pitch black, the sun already set, small shifts of movement coming from the rows of seats and the rafters, family and supporters brought together alive and passed, human and not. The only light coming from the spotlights on the stage as Principle Chiba gave an inspirational and touching speech that moved everyone here. Applause began and continued as I replaced Mr. Chiba at the podium, soon it died down and I spoke a silent prayer I would do well before I began.

“Fellow classmates, graduates of 2018, I will not bore you with a lengthy speech going on about things that don’t matter, we all have better things to do. Instead I will give you some words of advice given to me by someone I miss dearly, who has gone on to University in a very far away place yet I remain close to. That advice is to simply, remember to call. Call to say how beautiful the leaves are on the trees outside your dorm window. Call to ask how they’re doing. Call to just say I miss you. Call to make them open their bedroom window because they’re home for the Holidays and you’re outside freezing, 20 ft up in the air on a tree and regretting every life choice you’ve made up to that point. So call, it keeps you close to those you care about. Thank you.” 

I don’t think we called enough. 

Sitting here, awkwardly in this cafe we used to come to in high school when conversation just flowed, I wonder what went wrong. I know we didn’t follow the schedule, school and life got in the way, but… that shouldn’t stop us from reconnecting.

“So, any special someone in your guys lives?” I ask, a small forced and nervous smile on display as I grasp my mug. 

My sister Sofia shoots me a sarcastic thumbs up. I’m tempted to flip her off. 

Bonita nods “Their name’s Avery, they’re pretty nice,” she says looking down into her mug.

“I’m not seeing anyone right now actually,” Makena says, taking a bite of her pastry. 

I nod my head, this is not going well “That’s nice,” I take a sip from my mug, racking my brain to come up with something to start a decent conversation. 

Makena pretends to get a text and looks at her phone “Sorry guys, it’s been fun but my mom wants me home to make sugar cookies, see you later!” she says practically sprinting from the table.

I know she was pretending because she always has her ringer on, in high school it used to get her into so much trouble. 

I remember when it went off in the middle of a lock down drill, school took it away for three days, and like any teenagers would we concocted elaborate schemes to get her phone back. None of them worked of course, including the one where Bonita tried to tell the receptionist she was Makena was mom, but we had fun nonetheless. 

“I should actually go too, I got some stuff that I need to attend to,” Bonita says laughing half halfheartedly.

I nod and watch her awkwardly leave. Letting out a defeated sigh I let my head fall into my arms. Why was talking to them after a year so hard?

“You ok?” my sister asks, sitting down across from me. 

The phase sent me over the edge, tears started spilling into my cardigan then running down my cheeks as I lifted my head. Unable to speak, I shake my head. 

She grabs a tissue from her bag and hands it to me “You know you could always try doing something you guys used to do back in high school together,” she suggests sipping her drink.

I sniffled “I don’t know, I noticed Bonita wearing a cross and Makena started wearing a hijab,” I used the tissue to wipe away the tears “They’ve changed a lot…”

My sister nods “Sorry I’m not more help…” 

“It’s ok, they’re allowed to change it’s just I didn’t expect them to so much,” I say, my phone starting to vibrate. 

It’s Vincent, one of my new friends from Uni, I answer it “Hey tic tac, whatcha need?”

He laughs “Nothing, just want to know how the old reunion is going,”

“Not well, but I know that’s not why you’re calling, what did you do this time?”

“Can’t a friend bug another friend anymore? And besides it’s not me, it’s your roommate, apparently she accidentally turned your sheets orange when washing them,” 

I chuckle, and rub my face “How bad is it?”

“Bad, very bad, looks like leftover prison suit material was used, then bleached in some places,” 

I laugh genuinely “I’ll be sure to pick up new ones when I get back then,” 

“Good, those sheets have seen better days. What’s up with your friends? Thought you were really excited to see them,”

“Well, I was, but… they’ve changed a lot. They’re not the people I used to know back in high school and I don’t know how to reconnect with them,” 

Vincent sighs “You’re not gonna like what I have to say about this but you need to hear it,-” he pauses and I scrunch up my face. What could he possibly have to say that I wouldn’t like? “-Sometimes, through no fault of anyone involved, relationships just… don’t last,”

I blank for a second, shocked he’d even say something like that. “What the hell? What am I-” 

“You didn’t let me finish!” he interrupts his voice weakly raising an octave. I huff but let him continue“Sometimes they don’t last because people just change too much, and that’s no one fault, people need to change so they can grow. And sometimes that means you change so much people lose connection because there’s nothing to connect with. That doesn’t make sense, umm, ok, take two people at the start of a relationship. They both love to… drink coffee so every day they go out to drink coffee,”

I chuckle a little raising an eyebrow “Coffee? That’s the best you can come up with?”

He shushes me playfully “Anyways, so a little later in this friendship one decides to give up coffee due to Insert Reason Here and they stop hanging out as often. Since their entire relationship is based on coffee and now that’s been taken away, they don’t have anything in common. They drift apart and remember each other as a good friend they had,”

I nod and ponder what he said “So… people can just drift apart? In that situation aren’t you supposed to try to make new common interests?” 

“Yah, but sometimes that just doesn’t happen for whatever reason and that’s where my wisdom comes in!” I can feel his overblown and ridiculously camera smile of annoyance from the other side of the country.

“I’m throwing a pillow at you when I get back,” I say going to hang up, his laughter ringing out. 

My sister’s nowhere to be seen, probably went to the washroom. I remain sitting, my drink all gone and the sun dipping down to paint everything a nice shade of orange. 

I wonder if Vincent had a point. I had tried to reconnect with my friends, but they just… were too changed from when I knew them… I could keep trying, but how many times would I sit through awkward conversations that lead nowhere before we reconnected or they started making up excuses not to come? 

I sigh out loud and play with my empty cup. Why do people and relationships have to be so difficult? 

I realize Vincent’s right… Why for the love of the gods does Vincent have to be right this one time? 

Sighing again I begrudgingly move up my flight up to this Thursday, two days from now. My parents moved after I graduated high school and my sister was seeing her friends so it wasn’t like it was an inconvenience to anyone. 

My sister reappears and sits down “Sorry, didn’t want to interrupt your phone call, had to go to the washroom,” 

“That’s ok, I was just about to leave, -” I stand up and hesitate to continue “-I also moved up my flight to this Thursday…”

“You sure? Shouldn’t you try to reconnect a little harder?” she asks, walking with me to the door.

I sigh “Yes, sometimes people just grow apart and despite their best efforts they just don’t recover,” I mentally kick myself for quoting Vincent, the jerk would never let me live it down. I grab a peppermint from the little bowl as we exit and pop it in my mouth.

“Sounds like you’ve made up your mind.” she comments getting in her rental car “Want me to drive you to the airport?”

“Sure, I’d like that,” I say with a sad smile. 

Watching her drive off and getting into my car, I feel my heart droop, finally realizing that was the last time I’d probably see my old friends again but, I also feel like a sense of dread has been scrubbed off of me. 

[angelofberlin2000]

@HadleyFreeman

Sat 18 May 2019 09.00 BST

“Hey, I’m Keanu,” he introduces himself – unnecessarily, of course, and yet very Keanu-ishly. Despite being so famous his surname has long been superfluous, Keanu Reeves has always given the impression of being utterly unaffected by his own celebrity. He is regularly described by his co-stars as “kind” (Winona Ryder) and “humble” (Laurence Fishburne) and it is easier to imagine him walking on the moon than knocking back champagne with other celebrities on a yacht in St Barts. After all, the most famous paparazzi photo ever taken of Reeves was of him sitting alone on a bench, eating a sandwich out of a plastic bag. Hard to imagine Leonardo DiCaprio doing that.

“I’ll sit anywhere you want me to. This OK?” he says, taking a chair and offering me the sofa in the London hotel room where we meet. At just over 6ft, he is taller than I expected – also unusual for an actor – and dressed in a very Keanu outfit of dark shirt and trousers with sturdy boots. Despite being recently announced as the new face of the high fashion label Saint Laurent, Reeves has long been the patron saint of normcore, decades before it became a fashion statement. And I know this all too well because, from 1991–99, I had at least five posters of him on my bedroom walls modelling said look.

The 2010 photo of Reeves on a New York bench that sparked the Sad Keanu meme. Photograph: Splash News

Should one ever meet one’s teenage crush? Up until this week, I’d assumed I was long past the point of being starstruck – I’m a 40-year-old woman, for God’s sake! But now here I am, sitting opposite Reeves, now 54, the beard more grizzled than in my posters and the forehead suspiciously smooth, but still, most definitely Keanu. There’s that devastating smile he flashed at Sandra Bullock at the end of Speed, and there he is saying – and this is where I nearly lose all vestiges of professionalism – “Excellent!” while playing air guitar. Listening to the tape of our interview later is not an edifying experience, as I hear myself – Oh, dear God – flirt with Reeves (because, clearly, a heavily pregnant mother of two is the dream woman he’s been waiting for). Happily, my mortifying giggling soon abates, thanks to Reeves’ management of a situation he has presumably had to deal with every day of his life for the past four decades. And as he does, I get an insight into what it takes to be Keanu Reeves.

We are meeting today to discuss his latest film, John Wick: Chapter 3 – Parabellum. It will unquestionably boost the more than $3bn Reeves’ movies have grossed over the years. When he made the first John Wick film in 2014 – directed, as all the Wick films are, by Chad Stahelski, Reeves’ stunt double on the Matrix films – few expected that a movie about a former assassin avenging the killing of his puppy would amount to much. Despite starring in some of the most successful and seminal movies of the past 30 years – from offbeat hits like Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure and My Own Private Idaho, to blockbusters like Point Break, Speed and The Matrix – Reeves has been in at least as many damp squibs, including 2013’s 47 Ronin, one of the biggest box office flops of all time. Yet Wick, a stylish, brooding, ultraviolent revenge fantasy, was an unexpected hit with critics and audiences, and is now a mega-million dollar franchise, giving Reeves his first mainstream hits since the Matrix movies.

Part three – sorry, Chapter 3 – is larkier than its two predecessors, including one incredible scene in which Reeves offs some bad guys using an actual horse as a weapon (rest assured: the horse escaped unharmed). As a testament to the success of the franchise, there are more celebrity co-stars, including Halle Berry, and despite the naysayers when it comes to Reeves’ acting, he is terrific as a man still mourning the death of his wife. (She died at the beginning of the first John Wick film, from that terrible terminal disease, Convenient Plot Device.) “We certainly didn’t know when we started on John Wick that it would become like this,” says Reeves. “We’re only getting to tell these stories because of the audience. So thank you.” He salutes me in thanks, as representative of all the Wick audiences. (If you are imagining this is one of the times I giggled at him, you are correct.)

One of the canniest things about the Wick films is how they riff on Reeves’ public image. Once dismissed as an airhead by those who confused the Bill & Ted movies with reality, for the past two decades Reeves has been seen as a melancholic loner. The famous 2010 photo of him on a New York bench sparked what became known as the Sad Keanu meme, but it only struck a chord because the assumption already existed that Reeves – then in a career slump – was, well, a bit sad. Reeves, with polite firmness, denies that this echo is deliberate – “No, no, I don’t think about that” – although it is hard to believe it wasn’t in the film-makers’ minds as they shot endless scenes in John Wick 3 of Sad Keanu wandering alone through rainy New York streets, empty hotel corridors and a desert.

It quickly becomes clear that polite firmness is Reeves’ modus operandi when it comes to nosy questions: he will give the impression of being up for answering anything while, in fact, saying very little, or nothing at all. (Sample exchange. Me: “Was there ever a moment, maybe after Bill & Ted, when people started reacting differently to you and you realised your life had changed?” Him: “Um, no.” Me: “Really?” Him: “No.”) What this distancing tactic might lack in conversational intimacy, it makes up for in shutting down any embarrassing flirtations from women who should know better. You can’t kid yourself you are soulmates with someone who is building such protective walls against you.

So I’m surprised when he volunteers that Wick’s melancholy possibly has a connection to some of the most painful moments in his life. One other big reason the public perception of Reeves shifted from comedy stoner to faintly tragic figure was because, in 1999, his long-term girlfriend, Jennifer Syme, gave birth to their daughter Ava, who was stillborn. The couple broke up soon after, and two years later Syme was killed in a car accident. Reeves has never married, had any other children or even been reliably linked to other romantic partners since. He has also never spoken publicly about their deaths, and who can blame him? But given that the heart of the Wick films is about him mourning a lost love, the resonance is hard to ignore.

“With any character, the way I think about it is, you have the role on the page, you have the vision of the director and you have your life experience,” he says.

Did he bring his experience of bereavement to the role? “Oh yeah, I thought it was one of the foundations of the role for John Wick. I love his grief,” he says, visibly perking up at the subject.

What is it about grief that interests him? “Well, for the character and in life, it’s about the love of the person you’re grieving for, and any time you can keep company with that fire, it is warm. I absolutely relate to that, and I don’t think you ever work through it. Grief and loss, those are things that don’t ever go away. They stay with you.”

Has he been thinking more about the people he has lost as he’s grown older? “I don’t think it’s about getting older. It’s always with you, but like an ebb and flow,” he says.

Anyone in particular? “Lots of people,” he says, bricking those walls right back up.

***

Keanu Reeves was born in Beirut, Lebanon, the son of an English mother and Hawaiian-Chinese father. (His first name, as all Reeves-ologists know, is Hawaiian for “cool breeze over the mountains”.) With his sister Kim, the family moved around the world, from Australia to Manhattan, before finally settling in Toronto when Reeves was six. I reckon you can often spot an adult who moved around a lot as a kid, I tell him. “Oh yeah? How?” he says, intrigued.

They tend to have a sense of detachment, self-sufficiency, maybe loner tendencies and a strong sense of independence, I say. “Yeah, I clinically belong to that. I definitely have a bit of the gypsy in me,” he agrees.

Reeves’ father left the family when Keanu was three, and disappeared entirely from their lives when he was 13. He and his sister had multiple stepfathers.

That’s a pretty hard age for a parent to vanish off the scene, I say. “For sure, I think it’s definitely traumatising. But it’s hard to know how [it affected me] because I don’t know what the other life would have been, you know what I mean?” he says.

Did his father ever contact him again? “Yeah, in the mid-90s, but I didn’t reach back out,” he says.

This was after his father had been convicted for selling heroin? “Yeah, but that wasn’t why I didn’t get in touch!” he laughs.

So why not? “I just didn’t,” he replies, and that’s the end of that. But I can’t help but think of one of my favourite scenes of his, from Ron Howard’s 1989 ensemble comedy Parenthood, in which Reeves’ character muses about paternal figures: “You need a licence to buy a dog, or drive a car. Hell, you need a licence to catch a fish. But they’ll let any butt-reaming asshole be a father.”

Often the class clown at school, Reeves liked sport and loved acting, and got an agent as a teenager after being talent-spotted in a play. He dropped out of high school before graduation. “I feel really fortunate in a way, because I knew what I wanted to do, and a lot of kids that age don’t. But I had a creative ambition and I did it,” he says. After some early television work, Reeves started getting film roles, most notably in the cult 1986 teen drama River’s Edge, followed by Bill & Ted, and from there the work never stopped.

Back in the 1990s, he was the go-to pin-up for all teenagers who wanted a beautiful, gentle and safely asexual boyfriend (hi!). But his acting, if not his looks, has been a more debatable subject. “Is Keanu Reeves a Good Bad Actor or a Bad Good Actor?” a reader wrote in to ask the New York Times’ film critics in 2011 (the answer was, “Neither! A good actor, period”). Writing in the Guardian, self-professed superfan Joe Queenan put him in a small category of actors so beloved they are beyond criticism: “In most of [his best] movies, Keanu plays a character the audience views more with affection than with reverence or idolatry, like a kid brother who has bitten off more than he can chew and may need outside help to survive.”

Today Reeves has a good riposte to the criticism that he doesn’t, or can’t, act. “I certainly never got it from any of the directors I worked with,” he says, checking off some of the most respected in the business, including Bernardo Bertolucci (Little Buddha), Kathryn Bigelow (Point Break), Francis Ford Coppola (Bram Stoker’s Dracula), Stephen Frears (Dangerous Liaisons), Gus Van Sant (My Own Private Idaho) and Richard Linklater (A Scanner Darkly). “It’s not like I went to meet Kenneth Branagh [who directed him in 1993’s Much Ado About Nothing] and he was like, ‘Excellent, dude!’ You know?” He chucks in a little air guitar to boot.

It would have been pretty funny if Branagh had said that, though. “Of course! But the pigeonholing just comes from journalists and, yeah, that happens a lot. I generally don’t read the press but when I do I’m like, ‘Oh, OK, you’re doing that again,’” he says with a shrug.

I’ve never really understood the criticism. OK, he might not have been perfectly cast in Much Ado and acting opposite John Malkovich and Glenn Close in Dangerous Liaisons when he was only 24 was never going to be a fair fight. But he has always been a far more varied actor than the snarkers allow. He proved his superlative comic timing and endearing charisma in Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure and, when it comes to drama and sci-fi, no one is better at maintaining an inscrutable blankness. That quality is precisely what has driven so many directors to cast him, often as a messiah-like figure in movies such as Little Buddha, 2005’s Constantine (one of Reeves’ favourites), 1995’s Johnny Mnemonic and, of course, The Matrix. And of all the improbable actors who became action stars in the 1990s – Alec Baldwin, Nicolas Cage – Reeves seemed the most at home in the genre, in the still deliciously enjoyable Point Break and Speed, which he made in between smaller indie fare. So did he do the big movies in order to fund the smaller projects?

“Honestly, I try not to do anything I don’t want to do. But I guess those movies were in reaction to each other. It wasn’t as thought out as, OK, I finished Point Break, so now I’d better play a street prostitute. It was more like, OK, I finished this, now I want to do that,” he says.

“That” refers to 1991’s My Own Private Idaho, in which he and River Phoenix play street hustlers. Reeves had already met Phoenix through the latter’s girlfriend Martha Plimpton, with whom he had worked in Parenthood. The two quickly became friends, and it’s not hard to see why: both were young actors on the rise with a love of music and a pronounced lack of interest in the glitzier, red carpet side of their job. They were the anti-Brat Pack, and Phoenix, along with Alex Winter from Bill & Ted, were, Reeves says, “definitely my closest friends from that era. We shared an artistic sensibility. River was just so down-to-earth, spiritual and a unique artist. Yeah, I miss him,” says Reeves quietly. When Phoenix suggested the two of them make My Own Private Idaho, “I was in right away,” he says.

They had something else in common, a shared experience suggested in the now almost unbearably moving scene where the two sit by a campfire and talk haltingly about their childhoods.

Mike (Phoenix): If I had a normal family, and a good upbringing, then I would have been a well-adjusted person.

Scott (Reeves): Depends on what you call normal.

Mike: Didn’t have a dog, or a normal dad. Anyway, that’s all right. I don’t feel sorry for myself, I feel like I’m, you know, well-adjusted.

Scott: What’s a normal dad?

Phoenix’s dysfunctional childhood, growing up in a rackety family who for a time belonged to the Children of God cult, has been well-documented. Reeves’ was different, but no slouch when it came to potential trauma. Was that another thing that drew them together?

He ponders the question a full 10 seconds. “Certainly our histories played a role in that movie and in that scene. So I’ll say yes to that, yeah,” he says.

Two years after My Own Private Idaho’s release, the actor who desperately wanted to avoid every Hollywood cliche died the most cliched death imaginable, of a drugs overdose on Sunset Boulevard in 1993. Plenty of his contemporaries were also caught out, either self-destructing or becoming victims of their own success. Reeves adamantly refused to do either. When I ask how he avoided falling victim to drug addiction as Phoenix did, he says, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world: “I just wasn’t into that scene.”

It’s hard to tell if he’s being blithe or defiant when he insists he still lives his life totally normally, unaffected by fans. But if Leonardo DiCaprio went into a supermarket, there would be hysteria, I say.

“Yeah, but Leonardo has fame and fans that I don’t have in that way. Definitely. I don’t know what his experiences are, but I think someone from the outside would think [going shopping] might not be easy for him. Whereas I can, which is good,” he says.

Come on, surely fans bother him all the time? But the worst he can come up with is someone quoting Point Break at him in the airport the other day and someone, once, quoting River’s Edge when he was queueing at an ice-cream van. “And that’s fun!” he says cheerfully.

In the 1980s and 1990s, he was offered every hot young part under the sun, including the lead in Platoon (which went to Charlie Sheen) and Val Kilmer’s role in Heat. But when I ask if he regrets turning any of them down, he smiles and instantly replies, “No.” He also turned down a $12m pay cheque to make Speed 2 because he, rightly, thought the plot was nonsense, which resulted in him being shut out of 20th Century Fox films for the next 11 years (and no, he doesn’t regret that, either). He is about to start shooting Bill & Ted Face The Music, in which the now fiftysomething duo have to write a song so good it will save the universe. “There has to be a reason for making a movie, and the writers have come up with a good ‘why’ for telling the story,” he says. When I ask what gives him an ego boost, given that he’s not driven by money or fame, he is so baffled by the idea of his ego needing a boost that he is silent for a full 28 seconds before finally answering, “The work.”

Maintaining his privacy has been a major factor in helping Reeves retain his sanity, yet away from the press he can be extraordinarily open and laid-back. By a weird fluke, I have two friends who, separately, spent time with him in the 90s and both still talk about his generosity: he took them for rides on his motorbike and stayed in touch (yes, I am furious with them for not including me in any of this). There are legions of stories about Reeves’ kindness: buying his stuntmen motorbikes, renegotiating his Matrix contract so that the crew got a better deal, at a personal cost of millions of dollars. Shortly before we meet, Reeves was on a flight between San Francisco and Los Angeles that was grounded due to a mechanical fault. Instead of pulling rank with some “Do you know who I am?” A-list entitlement, Reeves encouraged his fellow passengers to board a van with him so they could drive to LA, keeping the mood up by sharing fun local facts and playing music from his iPhone. (Needless to say, footage of this quickly went viral.) So his four decades-long reticence with the media might well be Reeves’ most brilliantly sustained performance.

  How we made Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure                                                                                                                                                         Read more                            

But he bristles when I mention these stories. “I’m pretty private, so when that stuff doesn’t stay private it is not great,” he says.

Because he worries it will look like he’s just doing it for show? “No. Because it’s private,” he says with emphasis.

Ah well. I have accepted by this point that we probably won’t ride off together into the sunset on his motorcycle. But if the price of Reeves still being so recognisably Keanu-ish is him retaining a firm grip on his privacy and at least a pretence of normality, that feels like a fair trade-off. I assume doing this interview has been a torturous experience for him, so as we get up to leave I ask how he’d have preferred to spend the afternoon, in a dream scenario.

“Oh, I don’t know. This dream ain’t so bad!” he says, and gives me that full end-of-Speed smile again. And reader, I giggled.

• John Wick: Chapter 3 – Parabellum is in cinemas now.

If you would like a comment to be considered for inclusion on Weekend magazine’s letters page in print, please email weekend@theguardian.com, including your name and address (not for publication).

[kyndaris]

Unseen

I actually posted this first on my FictionPress account. It’s another short story that got a little out of hand but I thought it helped encapsulate the feeling of being overlooked in the busy lives that we lead. Even more difficult was trying to make the language more ‘Americanized’ than I was used to. Here’s hoping I succeeded.

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When I was young, I discovered I had a magic power. This was just after I had entered middle school and everyone had learned about puberty. It was a strange time, sprinkled with talks from teachers about the physical changes that we were expected to go through. From unwanted hair to monthly bleeds to a sizable development in the chest area. That, coupled with hormones and the outbreak of acne, was the general 'teenager' experience with its mixture of angst, confusion and rebellion.

But none of that mattered to me.

I mean, why would it when I could make myself invisible?

For years, I enjoyed the freedom that this power gave me. While others began to excel academically or at sports, I was far too busy trying to concoct the latest pranks. My marks had never been the best and while I could, perhaps toss a ball around if called upon, I was not one to put my hand up for anything competitive. I had seen the injuries sported by some of my friends when they had tried out for football and baseball.

No. My mission in life was to have fun and to annoy the living hell out of those around me. And I was good at it. The best even.

Only once was I caught. Mom was called in. Frazzled from a shift at the diner, her hair still in a messy bun, she had timidly knocked at the entrance when she arrived. I was pouting, desperately trying to mount up a feasible defense that would see mom take my side.

I was fourteen. Desperate, a little, for approval. With mom being so busy and my little sister just starting school, it had been a difficult year. And while I was enjoying my newfound ability, I was also grappling with hormones and mood swings. The one advantage I had over my peers was that I could make it all go away. Whether it was directing my invincibility to only certain parts of my body. Or simply disappearing altogether and finding a quiet place to clear my head of the mountain of thoughts.

The principal, a man of many years, judging from his balding pate the crow's feet at his eyes, had first tried to cajole my mom into enrolling me into one of those fancy boarding schools for troubled children. Over the years, I had made a name for myself as a rabble-rouser. A common disruption in class. And occasional truant.

It was also a well-known fact among the faculty that I had a hand in the mischief that had spoiled the opening night of the Christmas Play the year before. While they could not provide any concrete proof, I had put myself in their sights and any wrongdoing I did – no matter how minute – was scrutinized.

Mom was skeptical.

Of course, she had every right to be. As a single mother with two young daughters, there was hardly any money to purchase new shoes, let alone afford the fees for a private boarding school.

In the end, she chose to keep me in a public school. Though I was 'gifted' individual, she thought it best that I remain with my friends. Familiarity would ground me. That had been her key argument with the principal that day. In her eyes, whatever talents I possessed would flourish regardless of which institution I was in. Besides, there was no telling what I might do if in some boarding school halfway across the country. No. Better to keep me close at hand.

Knowing defeat, the principal relented and gave me a three-day suspension. Mom wasn't pleased. The entire walk to the car was made in complete silence. Nor did she look at me. Even the drive home was heavy with disappointment. When I tried to give my side of the story, she would interrupt with a sigh.

It was the first time that I felt truly and completely alone. Unseen and unheard.

                                                             --

In the summer just before high school, mom met someone. He was an investment banker that wanted more beyond the small town that we lived. Beguiled, perhaps, by his honeyed words, we packed up and moved to Connecticut. By then, I had met him numerous times and he was all but incorporated himself into our family dynamics. Both my sister and mom were enamored.

Mom, because she had a new man. And my sister, because we now had a new dad. One who doted upon her every wish. Only I was a little hesitant about this stranger in our house. Still, if he made mom happy and our lives a little easier, I could live with it.

Besides, it had been a good twelve years since dad had left us for his new family and he had never bothered with child support.

Perhaps I should have seen the signs then but at the time I was starting in a new school without any of my old friends. Having grown out of being the class clown, I was a little unsure of how to ingratiate myself into this new environment where I knew no-one. My grades had never been the best and I was decidedly average when it came to P.E. Nor was I talented at the creative arts.

The only thing special about me was my power of invisibility. But entering high school, I found out that having it was more of a liability than a gift. People were less amazed and more bemused. Everyone had seen it all before. And it didn't help that there were others who also had it attending my school.

I had to redefine who I was. Fast.

In those four years of high school, I was as like a social chameleon as I tried to befriend the numerous clichés. One week I would dye my hair black. The next, I would be trying my hand at a musical instrument. A third week and I would be in the library, desperately looking up a slew of made-up words that I had never heard of before.

Each day, I would come home exhausted. Mom was so busy that she didn't care how late I returned. Besides, with my abilities, there was no telling if I had come home early and had simply refused to leave the bed. Invisibility was both a blessing and a curse.

I often thought that was why Artemis never tried to reach out to me. She knew that I was struggling and had thought not to burden me with all her troubles. Artemis had always been thoughtful like that. And that had been her greatest power. The kindness, patience and resilience she had brought to our dysfunctional family.

                                                          --

When I finally graduated and applied for college, our finances were in the black. With his income, our stepdad could afford to send us to a decent university. It might not have been Ivy League, but it was enough to give me the peace of mind to experiment and try different things. Besides, while I had participated in a range of extracurricular activities, I had never stayed long enough in any of the clubs to positively contribute and my grades were scattershot, at best.

Still, I was able to make the best of it and moved onto campus. It was a day of heartache and exhilaration. We had moved so much but this was the first time I would be 'leaving the nest,' so to speak.

Everything was so new and I felt like I was out of my depth when I found my dorm room and settled myself in.

My roommate was a girl named Lauren. She was only four foot eleven but she could demolish three full servings of steak and could drink a sailor under the table. Lauren, though, was one of those rare honor students. She had a plan already set out before her and woe betide anyone that stood in her way.

Work hard. Play hard.

It had been her motto since the day she was born. Or so she told me.

I liked her from the start but our conflicting schedules meant that I hardly saw her even though we shared a dorm room. On the rare occasion that we both had an afternoon or a morning together, Lauren and I would take our time to explore every nook and cranny on campus. It took a couple of months but we managed to narrow down the café that served the best coffee, as well as an excellent corner in the library where we could stream the latest television shows while we pretended to study our incredibly expensive textbooks.

All of that changed, though, when I received a call from my mum just halfway through term.

Artemis was dead. She had hanged herself yesterday, using one of the beams in the house, some hemp rope that she had bought just for that purpose and a ladder. The funeral was slated for next week. The timing was bad, she knew. What with exams and assignments piling up. Would I be able to attend?

It was an impossible request. Despite my best efforts, each and every lecturer refused to give me the time I needed to go home.

Somehow or other, though, I managed to make the funeral – albeit after all the eulogies and when her body had already been consigned to the flames of the crematorium. It had not been an easy journey. Had it not been for Lauren's cooperation and my own special ability, I might not have been able to achieve even that.

The staff at the university knew about my unique condition. Of how I could turn invisible at the drop of a hat. Back in those early days, I had occasionally suffered bouts where I would remain unseen and unheard for at least a couple of days. For quite some time, I had not used my power and initially, I had thought that my inability to control it as a had during childhood had come from neglect. It had been an easy thing for Lauren to give them excuses and assist, on occasion with the delivery of my essays to the appropriate faculty (which I had to send to her via email even as I snuck on two Greyhound buses just so I could reach home).

I don't remember much of what happened that day or the two days afterwards when I prepared to head back to college. All the memories in my head were like small fleeting snippets. There was a brief argument with mom. During dinner, I threw a glare towards my stepdad when he tried to offer his condolences. Me walking into her room, right before bed, and trying to picture the way she smiled and would look up at me.

But, always, my mind would go to her last moments and I would wonder what had pushed my perfect sister – the youngest and favoured daughter in our household to do what she did. Back in my old room, I slept terribly. Haunted by nightmares that I could never quite recall.

Even when I was finally back on the bus, headed back to college and the ire of my teachers, I struggled to find a rational explanation for why Artemis did what she did. The perfect world I had constructed was slowly beginning to crumble.

It was only during the start of my sophomore year that I finally came to know the reason behind Artemis's suicide. All of it came tumbling out during the messy divorce between my mom and stepdad. Buoyed, perhaps, by having a man in the house with a stable income, mom went back to school to finish the degree that she never completed when pregnant with me. Once all that was done, she successfully landed the job of her dreams.

With all her success urging her on to better things, she was blind to what was happening at home. Her absence provided an opportunity for the predator lurking amongst us. And Artemis being Artemis…well, she kept her lips sealed. Far too terrified to reveal that he had been touching her and ashamed to admit that it had happened.

For years she had silently endured until finally, in her senior year of high school, it had been too much.

I should have been there for me. And I hated that I turned a blind eye to so many of the signs. From the bruises on her upper arm to the way the light had faded from her eyes.

At college, my grades began to fall. I started heading out to frat houses and clubs located close to campus. Just so that I could numb myself to the pain that was tearing me up inside.

It was then that I made my worst mistake. His name was Stephen.

Initially, it had been innocent enough. We met during a class we shared. I thought he was a nice enough and it didn't hurt that he was quite pleasing on the eyes. Stephen was intelligent too and always with his head in a philosophy book or another. Descartes, Socrates, Nietzsche. He had read them all. He could even hold a conversation beyond questioning whether or not we were stuck in the Matrix.

Ever so slowly, I fell for his charm. When he invited me to a house party right after the exam period, I agreed readily.

We danced. We flirted. And then we began to kiss. Flush with alcohol, we stumbled upstairs to find a spare bedroom that was free. But when he started to touch me down there, my mind went back to Artemis. I told him to stop. Yet, he didn't listen.

It wasn't until I was trying to claw out his eyes that he wrestled my arms away and kept me pressed down with his weight. That was when my power triggered. Had I not been able to turn invisible and began shrieking for help, I'm not entirely sure what might have happened that night.

Days afterwards, I still felt violated. It felt as if I had lost a key part of myself.

I think that was when my problems with my power began, although I did not quite notice until halfway through my third year. The fact that my hand had turned transparent without any conscious thought on my part was terrifying. And I couldn't bring it back. That was the worst of it. If I had known…

                                                             --

"Are you still typing?" said a voice close to my ear. It was one I knew intimately and as its owner sidled up close and kissed me sensually against my cheek, I leaned back into his warm embrace. "Won't you come into bed? It's late and I'm feeling a little lonely."

"Just one more paragraph," I said. "Please, Connor? Just one more. This is important."

He nuzzled against me. "Come on, Persephone. Your story can wait. It isn't going to disappear. At least, if you save it."

I reluctantly turned away from the Word document on my laptop and looked up at Connor. He had a point. I had been at it for most of the day. The words did not come easy and it was a struggle just to get them out. Always, I'd find something to distract me after I had written a few paragraphs. Then I'd go back and delete it all before rewriting it again. For two hours, I had followed the exact same formula until I finally decided enough was enough and moved on.

Besides, the prospect of bed sounded good. And Connor was always good to me. He understood me, having suffered through the exact same thing I was now experiencing. Yet he had recovered from fading away. With each passing day, he seemed to become more whole. Whereas I had come to a standstill.

Every morning I would take a look in the mirror and be dismayed that I still appeared ethereal. It didn't help that it was an effort just to have myself heard in my current office job.

To say that I was envious was an understatement.

"Oh, all right," I conceded, hitting both the ctrl button and 's'. Just to be safe, I moved a finger along the touch pad and clicked on the floppy disc shaped icon in the top left. I shut the laptop. "There."

"So, what were you actually writing about?" asked Connor as I stumbled around the bed and finally sidled in beside him.

"My—our story. Doctor Gibson said it was best that I put all my feelings down and see what happens. She said it might help."

He frowned. "Do you really think a psychiatrist like her is going to help understand the intricacies of being gifted, Persephone? She's never had to deal with what we've gone through."

I reached out for his hand and gave it a tight squeeze. The sharp contrast between his tanned skin and my transparency was a stark reminder that all my efforts had, as yet, been for naught. Doctor Gibson had been one of my more recent endeavors to find a solution the problem that still hung over my head. "It's a long shot, I know. But let's give it a month or two before calling it quits, all right?"

Connor didn't like it. He hadn't much liked anything I had done over the last six months to build up my confidence and independence when my condition had partially stabilized after it had nosedived earlier that year. It was as if he feared that if I got better, I would leave him. The thought, in itself, was ludicrous and I wanted to tell him that. Yet, whenever our conversation veered into dangerous waters, he would steer it back towards the safety of land.

And so, instead of agreeing, he pulled me close – enticing me with the promises he had made earlier that night. It was an effective tactic. Before too long, I was swept up by his fervor with the only thought in my head focused on how best to reach that peak again and again.

                                                            --

When I woke up, Connor was gone. His side of the bed was cold. There wasn't even a hint of warmth to indicate that he had been beside me all night. And though I knew he always had an early shift on Mondays, that didn't ease the pang I felt in my heart as I set about getting ready for the day.

Padding into the kitchen, I found a box of cereal on the counter top along with a carton of milk. In the sink was the bowl he had used as well as a mug stained brown with coffee. I ignored my immediate impulse to clean it all up. At the very least, I would delay it until I had my own breakfast.

I grabbed a bagel from the pantry and cut it in half. The two sides were soon quickly smothered in cream and jelly. I delicately placed them on a spare plate and took it with me to the living room. If Connor had been home, he would have disapproved. Though I never quite understood why, he liked to keep each activity relegated to their 'appropriate area.' Food was meant to remain in the kitchen or eaten in the dining room. The living room was meant to entertain guests. To bring a chicken wing, lathered heavily in barbeque sauce would have been blasphemy. Even a biscuit would see his gaze fixed upon each and every crumb that dropped.

"How are you going to remove the stains? Do you know how much it would cost? For God's sake, Persephone, are you even listening to me?"

Without him hovering over my shoulder, I settled down on the sofa and turned on the television. I ate my breakfast with Good Morning America for company.

Some might say it was a little lonely but with no plans for the day, I savored it. Besides, today was my day off. I didn't think it was necessary but Connor encouraged me to do it when my condition had worsened. He said it would be of benefit to my own mental health and I reluctantly conceded the point when I started vanishing before the eyes of my co-workers during an important stakeholder meeting.

I gratefully accepted. By that stage, I was hanging on by a thread and having variable hours meant I could see a specialist without feeling the guilt associated with using up all my sick leave. Still, it had stung to be relegated to part-time work and at first, I floundered with all the additional time I had on my hands. Taking up a hobby that I enjoyed helped alleviate some of that tension and also helped push me back on the path of recovery.

It was nine when I padded back to the kitchen and put my plate into the sink. It would only take me a couple of minutes to wash all the dishes but I decided to put it off until I had finished my daily ablutions. I retreated to the bathroom, picked up my toothbrush and squeezed some paste onto it.

Brushing your teeth while being almost ethereal in appearance was a difficult endeavor. When I was younger, I'd often imagine myself as a vampire. Back then, it was a game. Nowadays, I could barely look at my reflection in the mirror. Today, fortunately, was a good day. But there had been times when my features were so indistinct that I forgot what I even looked like. Was my hair long or short? What color was it? Were my eyes brown or did they border on hazel? Maybe they were blue and I had been deceiving myself for my entire life.

Without being able to see what I looked like it was easy to allow the doubts to creep in. To feel that the most essentials parts that contributed to who I was were being stripped away.

Fuck. When did life become so hard? Why couldn't I get through a single day without feeling as if life would be better if I simply faded away.

I set my brush down and took in several deep breaths. What did Doctor Gibson always say at our sessions? To trust in myself? To give myself purpose and screw what other people thought? No. That didn't seem right. She had always been one to preach about checking my self-doubt at the door. To reinforce all my positive attributes rather than dwelling on my regrets and the bad things. Positivity rather than negativity.

She had said I should try turn the way I thought upside down. There were no tries. I simply had to do.

Yes. That was it.

I could do this. I had to do this. Steadying myself against the porcelain, I stared at my reflection and willed color back to my cheeks. Invisibility was my power and I controlled how much I wanted to use.

Once I was satisfied that I would not be vanishing any time soon, I washed my face and headed back to the kitchen where I cleaned the dishes. Knowing that all my immediate chores had been completed, I finally returned to the bedroom where my laptop sat on top of a low waist-high cabinet.

Prying it back open, I stared at where I had left off the night before – rereading the last few paragraphs before I resumed typing out the last few years before I had met Connor.

                                                             --

So enthralled in my little project, I did not notice time pass until the bedroom door opened and Connor stood standing in the entrance, the expression on his face a mixture of outrage and annoyance.

"Did you not hear me come in, Persephone?" he asked, voice low and dangerous. "How about when I called for you the last thirty goddamn times?"

I shrank back, glancing briefly at the time displayed in the lower right-hand corner of the screen. 6:30PM. Shit. Where had the time gone? "I'm sorry C-Connor," I stuttered. Though he had never once struck me before I could see that he was trembling. "I-I-I was writing. I had some music playing. Jesus, y-you know how I lost track of things when I'm e-engrossed with something. B-but give me thirty minutes. Please. I'll have dinner ready and waiting."

"That's not good enough!" Each word was punctuated with an increase in volume. I couldn't help it. I shied away. Instead of calming it down, my fear only made him angrier. He stalked towards me. "When I come home, I expect my girlfriend to greet me at the door. I would have preferred if you had called out. Instead of having to look for you and wondering if you had abandoned me. Funny thing is, I should have known you would be in here. Tip tap typing away on your stupid laptop. Thinking that just by writing down a few words, it'll make you feel better and maybe stop you from becoming unseen."

His words were like daggers, cutting at all my vulnerabilities. "Stop it," I pleaded.

"Well, news flash Persephone: it doesn't! Guess the jokes on you."

There were tears in my eyes and I was finding it hard to breathe. The months I had spent trying to reconstruct my fragile psyche were swept away and I was once more cast adrift. I covered my ears with my hands – hoping to drown out the vitriol.

I knew Connor loved me. Today had simply not been a good day for him. I should have known that. I should have been the dutiful girlfriend. God. What was wrong with me?

"Stop Connor. Please stop."

"No Persephone. I don't think I will. We need to talk about us. We need to talk about how you never give a damn about me. Even when I've slaved all day trying to put bread on the table! You're an ungrateful bitch, freeloading off my love and devotion to you. What's wrong with you, Persephone? Why can't you even do the simplest thing?"

"I-I don't…" Misery and fear threatened to overwhelm me. I felt so small, so insignificant. That nothing I did would ever amount to anything. Connor was right. He was always right. And I should have been grateful for everything he had done for me.

But it was all too much. For the first time, my thoughts went into a dark scary place that I'm sure Artemis had frequented all throughout high school.

It happened so quick. I only realized what I had done when Connor's eyes widened and he immediately backed towards the exit. His eyes darted around the room. "Persephone! This isn't funny. You turn visible right now, you hear me?"

I said not a word. I couldn't. My voice was gone as well and I could only sit morosely at my desk – ashamed and afraid of what would happen next.

"Persephone, I'm going to count to five. If you don't turn visible, I swear to God I'm walking out the door and throwing away the key. You'll be nothing to me, Persephone. Just like how you're nothing to your mom. You know that, right? She never loved you as much as Artemis. The only person who loves you is me but I'll take it back if you keep this on any further."

Why did he always have to reveal my secrets and use them against me? Connor knew which buttons to press and exactly how much he ought to prod. Even though I loved him, I also hated how he always held these things over my head.

Sadness turned to anger. Why was I always the enemy? I had proved time and time again my loyalty to Connor and our relationship. Yet without my voice, without even the ability to be seen, I knew that this could not be easily communicated. I wanted to scream and shout. Fight tooth and nail as I railed against my fate as one of the Unseen. But if I wanted to regain my appearance, I needed time to think. To calm down and be rational. Connor would only use my outbursts against me.

I glanced towards the bathroom door. There was only one way I would be able to find the solace I sought.

In the end, it was easier than I had thought.

As Connor was on the cusp of making it to five, I hopped over the bed and ran towards the bathroom. I slammed the door and ducked to the side as Connor raced towards me – thinking that I had sequestered myself inside. He banged futilely – never thinking to simply turn the knob – and demanded that I let him in. To console, to berate. God only knows what went through his mind.

Free for the first time, I slipped from the bedroom and out the front door. Stopping only briefly to pick up my laptop and a change of underwear before I left the apartment.

                                                              --

Somehow or other, I found myself outside Doctor Gibson's office close to nine. The lights were still on so I made my way up the stairs. As I stepped up to the door, ready to knock, I thought I could hear voices. Daunted by meeting another of her patients, I went back to the stairwell and made myself comfortable a flight down where I could see who might have had a such a late-night session with the good psychiatrist.

A couple minutes passed and the door creaked open. Out stepped a mess of a man. His cheeks were sunken and it seemed as if he had not shaved in weeks. There were dark bags under his eyes and when he walked past my hiding spot, I caught a whiff of stale whiskey on his breath.

"David! For God's sake David, you can't run from this."

I looked up in time to see Doctor Gibson slipping on a coat as she hurried out the door. The man ignored her, his pace quickening as he took the steps two at a time. Seeing my opportunity, I clambered to my feet and caught the door before it closed.

In her haste, she had left the light on.

I navigated my way down the hallway to the familiar couch where I had spent a couple hours each week trying to find the answers to my condition. The cushions were strewn on the floor and a blanket lay crumpled at one end. Atop the coffee table were water stains, clearly visible on the glass. Maybe David had been staying here. Or perhaps it had been the leftovers from another session with the good Doctor Gibson.

What frustrated me the most, though, was that even though I was now here in the sanctity of Doctor Gibson's abode, I could not make myself visible. Try as I might, I was able to be seen.

The best I could do was blur the edges and give myself a faint outline. Was this it? Was this how I faded into obscurity? Forgotten? Unloved?

I don't know how long I stood there, waiting for Doctor Gibson to return. Trapped in that spiral, it could have easily been thirty minutes or a day. All I could focus on was the rising panic and the all-encompassing fear that came with it. I was only pulled from my thoughts when the door slammed shut and I heard a strangled sob of frustration behind me.

Perhaps she had a sixth sense or maybe she heard me as I whirled around but almost immediately, I saw Doctor Gibson transform from weary and vulnerable to guarded and wary. "Who's there?" she called out. "I know someone's here. And if you're an Unseen trying to bugle me, well, there' not much you can take."

When I tried to speak, to reassure Doctor Gibson that I meant no harm, silence emerged from my lips. Caught between a mixture of dismay and fear, I clutched at my throat as I stumbled forward. Maybe she could feel me. Surely, she would notice if I made physical contact.

I still existed. I was still rooted in the world. Only my appearance and voice had been taken from me. Right?

She fell backwards when I wrapped my arms around her in a hug – desperate to feel wanted and loved and here. In my haste to save her, I banged my leg against the edge of the coffee table. "Damnit," I swore, trying to assess if I had suffered any damage. It didn't seem like I'd hurt myself but it was hard when even your own blood was invisible.

"Is that you, Persephone? I know that you told me that your powers were unstable," she said after a lengthy silence, "but I would never have guessed that it was this bad. Talk to me, Persephone. I'm here."

A smile threatened to tear my face in two. She had recognized my voice. She knew who I was. Perhaps it was this thought that broke through the barrier preventing me from becoming visible. It was only when Doctor Gibson began to stroke my back and dabbed at my tears that I realized that I must have returned. Or had, at the very least, resumed a faded outline or appearance.

My suspicions were confirmed when she took me into the restroom and I looked at my reflection in the mirror. Much of my color was missing but no-one could overlook the faint fuzziness that indicated my presence in the world.

It was nearly midnight when we settled back on the couch. Doctor Gibson looked worn out and weary as she handed me a cup of chamomile tea. We didn't talk much that night. She needed to head back home, but I was welcome to stay the night at the office to collect my bearings and make some decisions. When I handed over my laptop, with my story sequestered in a 30kb word document, Doctor Gibson slipped it into her bag and promised to read it when she had the chance.

We parted at one in the morning. I walked her down to the street before retreating back to her office where I had made a comfortable bed on the couch. Sleep eluded me as I ran through everything that had happened that day. Memories and thoughts would flash through my mind – demanding my attention.

I must have fallen asleep sometime between three or four, because when I next opened my eyes, Doctor Gibson was seated in her armchair, pouring over what I had written over the past week as per the assignment she gave me. Mouth dry and eyes crusted with rheum, it took me a while to understand where exactly I was.

I'm ashamed to admit that panic was my first instinct and I immediately tried calling out for Connor, confused at waking up in an unfamiliar environment.

Doctor Gibson, patient and understanding, was quick to allay any fears I had. Within the half hour, I had recollected myself and was gorging myself on a bagel slathered with cream cheese. She had also brewed up a batch of coffee. And though it was black, the first sip tasted a little like heaven as I was returned to the land of the living.

"This may be a little forward of me to ask, Persephone, but in all our talks together you never mentioned you had a sister," said Doctor Gibson when I had finished breakfast and had just returned from the kitchen. "In fact, it seems as if a lot of your present issues with your gift seems to stem from a place of guilt."

"Well, shouldn't I have been a little more aware? If I had known…if I had stopped it, perhaps Artemis would still be here," I replied warily, saying the first things that came to mind. Talking about what had happened in those frantic months at college had always been difficult. Particularly when mom had slowly begun to withdraw from our interactions. I had always known she loved my younger sister best.

She nodded. "That's an understandable emotion to feel."

"What are you getting at?" I asked, unsure where this conversation might be headed towards. All I knew was that there was tingling down my spine and not the good kind.

"Why don't you sit down," Doctor Gibson said gently. From her tone, it was not a simple request. "This is a bit earlier than our weekly sessions, but considering the circumstances that brought you to my door last night, I warrant that there are things we need to discuss."

I didn't quite know how to respond to that. A part of me was scared. It wanted to turn invisible and run away. But a stronger part, the one that was sick and tired of feeling trapped stopped me from giving in. It was this part that sat me down opposite Doctor Gibson and look her dead in the eye as I waited for the guillotine to fall.

"From what I've read so far, I can see that you feel responsible for what happened to Artemis. In the years since, you've pushed everyone away. And all the failed relationships you've been in, the men you've dated – all of it is some twisted sort of penance. You want to punish yourself, Persephone."

Laughter burst through my lips. "Really, Doc? Is that the best you got? I'll admit that I haven't made the wisest choices but that was because my power made it impossible. One day I'd be me and then the next, I was gone. Faded from sight. As if I didn't exist. As if I never existed. Do you know how that feels like? To have all your efforts gone unacknowledged by those around you. To be ignored and treated as little more than the air someone else breathes?

"Connor was the one that helped stabilize me. He saw me. Because he knew what it meant to be unseen. To be cursed with this ability and not know how to control it."

"Yet, here you are. With me," observed Doctor Gibson. "Why is that, Persephone? If Connor sees you, where is he now? What happened last night?"

"I—we…we had a fight," I admitted. "But that doesn't negate the fact that he's always been there for me."

Doctor Gibson leaned in close. "What did you fight about, Persephone? Was it the fact you were distracted? Or did you forget to have everything just the way he liked it? After all our sessions together, we've hardly even broached the topic about your relationship. Whenever we do, you're quick to change the subject. Is it because he frightens you? Or is he one of the underlying reasons behind why you can't control your powers?"

Each question was a direct blow against the fragile wall I had constructed around my psyche. For months I had tried to play pretend. For months, I had written off Connor's behavior and given him excuses.

If I was going to be honest with myself, though, I needed to realize that being with Connor did not make me happy. I hated how he always treated me as if I was made of porcelain. Or that I was incredibly naive.

In fact, so many of his actions only served to undermine my individuality and my autonomy. Ever since we had met, he had tried to strip away my self-confidence to boost his own ego. And I, feeling that this was what I deserved after what had happened with Artemis, had allowed it to happen. I had been the accomplice to my own downfall.

Hot tears prickled at the corner of my eyes. I tried to blink them away, but it was useless to stem the tide of emotion that crashed through. Doctor Gibson watched on, a silent witness, her face an impassive mask. I did not know if she considered this a breakthrough or if she was aghast that she had destroyed the very fabric of my tenuous world.

                                                             --

Rebuilding my fractured relationships was a lot easier than I had initially thought. It was still a long and drawn out process with many missteps. For a while, I despaired whether or not any of it would be worth it. But, little by little, I made inroads. They say that a journey of a thousand miles starts with a single step. And that was exactly what happened.

Doctor Gibson continued to help and support me during my momentary lapses. Of course, always with a fee attached. With my new role and growing mastery of my abilities, however, it was a small price to pay.

What I struggled the most with, though, was letting go of my feelings of inadequacy and the guilt that had plagued me for so many years. It didn't help that for several weeks, I still tried to make it work with Connor. He had a way with pushing my buttons to make me feel worse. In the end, there was simply no way for the both of us to be together. Or even live in the same apartment. Not after everything that had happened.

I moved out and continued to work on both my physical fitness and my mental health.

Whether or not it was the right thing to do, I can't say. There were moments when I wondered if I even deserved something better but Doctor Gibson was quick to pull the 'could have, should have, would have' card. There was no telling what might have been and there was little sense on dwelling on the possibilities. What was done was done. The past was immutable and could not be changed.

The future, though, that was unwritten. And I had it within me to chart a different course. To seek atonement rather than wallowing in self-pity.

When I think about everything, though, I know I'm not quite there. Yet I know now that such things take time. There's no instant solution. With my new roommates and Doctor Gibson and quite a few supportive colleagues from work, I felt as if I was finally starting to see the light at the end of a long dark tunnel.

People saw me. Even in my darkest moments. Perhaps I should have reached out earlier. Sought help when I could.

Despite shame and embarrassment holding me back, I still managed to cling onto that last shred of hope. And it was the very thing I needed to claw my way out of an impossible situation.

I write this now for the people that come after. For those that are held back by fear and anxiety.

I see you.

And if I can make it then you can do it too.

[heatherdayton]

task two ; character questionnaire

I. ARE YOU A WILMINGTON NATIVE? IF NOT, WHERE DID YOU GROW UP? TELL US ABOUT YOUR CHILDHOOD. 

“Know what?” She narrowed her eyes with a cheeky grin, pointing. “Sometimes I feel like I am a native. I’m not. I consider myself a hybrid of sorts.” She hoped that if anyone had asked this question and if it would be published, the previous statement would be used as a pull-quote in fancy, italicized lettering. “In Savannah, Georgia is where I spent most of my diaper wearing days… Atlanta, Carrollton, Brunswick… Lived in different places in Georgia and upstate New York. Manhattan. Just moving around and letting some parts of this world know my name. Well, country. Alright, two states. Three, counting North Carolina. I know that sounds dramatic, but just work with it. I’d lived in a house, a basement, an apartment complex, and I was too young to really remember, but we were in a trailer home. My environment was constantly changing. Mom couldn’t stay in one place for too long.”

II. WHAT IS YOUR RELATIONSHIP LIKE WITH YOUR FAMILY? DO YOU HAVE SIBLINGS? A LARGE EXTENDED FAMILY? 

A genuine, immediate smile formed upon her face, contrary to the reaction she would’ve had if she hadn’t moved to Wilmington. “Robert and Colleen Dayton are the coolest, lamest grandparents on the planet,” Heather shook her head in admiration. “Love ‘em so much. Seriously, come and spend one night at our dinner table. Psst, gramps a little TMI, but you get used to it.” She laughed. Talking about the woman who’d partially raised her was difficult. Part of her wanted to mention her father in Rochester having spent time with him for part of her upbringing and how he’d been working towards being a better father, though bringing him up would undoubtedly spark questions about her mother. Despite nothing had happened yet, it comforted her that he was making an effort to some degree. As for the mother, Laura—prior to Heather, there was Haley. A half-sister she was a stranger to before she stepped foot in North Carolina.

III. DESCRIBE YOUR HIGH SCHOOL EXPERIENCE. 

“Mm, yes. High school. Let’s see. I was,” she hesitated for a bit, “in some way… a teacher’s pet.” Her body winced. “I know, I couldn’t help it. I was that kid. People used to say that I possessed a knack to knowing and understanding things before the questions were even posed. Sounds philosophical. I don’t deny it at all, though. Here’s why: I used to write-in my own bonus questions at the end of exams. Freakin’ show-off. Overall, I was dang focused on my work and had my nose in a book at the library during my free period. Pretty much everything I did in high school was at high school. Didn’t go to any wack high school parties. As for prom, there was this kid in my class. I'm sure we had only two conversations before he’d hit me with the promposal : ‘Heather Dayton, oh Heather Dayton, be my Heather Nighton. I’ll be your Night-on shining armor, join me for prom?’ Corny as hell. I couldn’t say no. I didn't say no.”

IV. WHAT WAS YOUR YEARBOOK SUPERLATIVE? WHY WAS THIS SO? 

“Most Likely to Accidentally Discover Something Life-Changing, then Claim That It Was All Intentional.” She recited the words exactly how they’d been written in the yearbook. “I don’t understand it, either. Oddly specific. It was the longest one on the damn page. I never knew whether to accept that as a compliment, because it’s as if people think I can’t discover something totally life changing on purpose? I have to rely on, I dunno, an accident? But at the same time, I guess it’s quite telling of killer instinct, so I usually go with that detail and that makes me feel better ‘bout it.”

V. WHAT DID YOU DO AFTER HIGH SCHOOL? DID YOU GO TO COLLEGE? IF NOT, WHY? 

“I did go to college, I graduated here. UNC Wilmington. I’ve got a B.S. in Chemistry. No bullshit,” Heather winked. “If it weren’t for tuition, I’d go back. Hell, I’d pay the loans if desperation called for it. I don’t have any plans currently to go back, I’m quite happy with interning at different places. I’m only stating that I’m not opposed to returning,” she added with a shrug.

VI. WAS THERE AN EVENT IN YOUR LIFE THAT GREATLY IMPACTED WHO YOU ARE NOW AS A PERSON? 

“It’s somewhat of a cliché, but I’ve come to the realization that things will fall into place. That stillness becomes a radiance, as Morgan Freeman once said. Moving to this city and making the decision to stay, I could say that it honestly…frightened me. I was afraid that I was missing something, that I was gonna be held back in some way. I don’t know, I feel like I was conditioned to think that seeking change all the time would satisfy me and bring me happiness, but that wasn’t the case at all. Sure, change is good. Change is difficult and hard decisions are necessary. But oh, no. Choosing to stay here—and this is the longest I’ve ever lived in one city before—it was an easy decision. Truthfully, I’d made a plan after college graduation to move again on my own terms, except I’d let the idea of staying here come up, then I just did it. I trusted my gut that this was the right thing to do, for me. It was a good type of change.”

VII. HAVE YOU EVER BEEN IN LOVE? IF NOT, DO YOU THINK THAT IS POSSIBLE FOR YOU IN THE FUTURE? 

“I hope so,” she spoke softly. The nearly twenty-three year old claimed to know an abundance of concepts; however, the chemistry of love remained as something complex. "Looking back at my first relationship as a fourteen year old. At that time, I knew I felt love. I really did, I knew it. I could attempt to explain what goes on, scientifically speaking, in the brain when that happens. Then, as time passed I thought, ‘No, that couldn’t have been love.’ But could have that really been love, for a mere teenage girl?” Her brows furrowed. It was possible that she was overthinking it—that had been something she couldn’t control, a tendency to be looking at things analytically, more often than necessary. “Maybe none of this makes sense. Maybe it’s not supposed to make sense. That’s what’s exciting about love, I presume.”

VIII. WHEN WERE YOU BORN AND WHAT IS YOUR ASTROLOGICAL SIGN? DOES IT INFLUENCE YOUR LIFE IN ANY WAY? 

“June 12, that would make me a Gemini.” She pressed her mouth into a scowl. “I’ve heard people trying to prove,” the girl rolled her eyes without finishing her thought, “that astrology is a science. I, [laughs] what? Listen, I understand that every side needs to be heard. Many possibilities out there to prove, whatnot. But astrology? A real science! I took this astronomy course in college. Meet this girl, super sweet. Sits next to me on the first day. We’re lab partners. Hit it off, you get me? We talk ‘bout the stars and it’s stupid cute. Then, brings up zodiac signs.” Her face went stone cold. “No. She told me I was a Gemini before I’d even told her my birthday. God? I don't mess with it. She must’ve really studied that nonsense shit real hard, huh? We’ll be here all day if we continue this discussion.”

IX. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE TIME OF YEAR? TELL US SOME OF YOUR FAVORITE ACTIVITIES TO DO DURING THIS TIME. 

“Autumn! I love everything about fall. The weather, the fashion, the mood. Wearing scarves happens to be one of my fave activities. Kidding. Well, that’s real, but fave activities do include pumpkin picking, pumpkin carving, doing my annual Harry Potter marathon. I bake a lot of things at this time ‘cause usually me and the g’parents do fruit picking, so.”

X. WHERE DO YOU SEE YOURSELF IN TEN YEARS AND WHAT DO YOU HAVE HOPED TO ACHIEVE? 

“From what you can tell based on one of my previous answers, I have this mindset that I simply roll with. That I sort of let life do its thing.” As of now, Heather was experiencing work and growing to appreciate different aspects of her interning job in clinical lab science. The girl had an undeniable curiosity in several branches including clinical, nanotech, forensic, and industrial work. Whatever it may be, she strives to be the best version of herself. “I simply want to be happy and do what I love. I’ve got this crazy inkling,” she teased, “that I'll exceed my high school superlative. Totally do something wild and intentional. I realize that’s a big dream, to want to make that big of an impact, but it all starts from within. And I feel very confident that I have what it takes.”

[foreverfangirl2011]

Demons From the Past- Prologue + Chapter 1

Hey Lovelies, 

So here is the prologue and first chapter of the Grayson Story I recently posted about. You’ll notice I changes the name a bit, I just think this flows better. This is just the beginning, theres still a hell of a lot more to come. But I hope you like it. 

Love,

- M

Demons From the Past A Grayson Bailey Dolan Story

Prologue

We all go trough hardships in our lives, bad things happen, its just a part of life. Life wouldn’t be life without these things. But its how we choose to deal with them that define us, not the crap itself. Thats where this story starts. I was just your average teenage girl, going through high school, trying to graduate, boy crazy, my head perpetually in the clouds. Like all girls my age I dreamed of being in love; even though I had no idea what real love was. I met him in freshman year of high school, and were together until graduation. His name, Harrison Waverly. The Waverly’s were a high power family, Edward Waverly, Harrison’s father, was a congressman. And his mother; Vivian Waverly; single handedly ran an international fashion empire. Even his little sister Naidene was a violin protege. Obviously Harrison was under a lot of pressure, his parents wanted him to take political science and follow in his fathers footsteps, but his true passion was sculpting, he was always happiest in his studio. His father , however, would never stand for that, “No son of mine is going to be a nobody playing with mud!” He would say. It didn’t help Harrison’s case that he was so gifted in political science, he couldn’t help it, it was in his blood. I loved him so much though, I always encouraged him to follow his heart. But the pressure from his parents was too great to bear, and he feared if he went against their wishes they would take it out on poor Naidene and make her give up her music (which Harrison knew she loved). So with a heavy heart he closed his studio doors and went to Princeton to study law. Unfortunately I couldn’t afford Princeton, instead, I got a scholarship and went to Northwestern for creative writing (fortunately my parents supported my writing dreams). We broke up after graduation, in our hearts we knew we couldn’t make the long distance thing work. We knew we’d just get to busy and drift apart. Anyway, even though Harrison’s parents loved me, they wanted him fully focused on school so that he was ready to step in when Edward retired. A year later, mid softmore year, fate smiled  upon us (or so I thought). We were both home for Christmas and as soon as we laid eyes on each other we just knew. Neither of us had moved on, he kissed me under the mistletoe and we got back together. Surprisingly we mad it work until graduation, the long distance I mean. After our first year back together he gave me a promise ring, it was a silver infinity ring with diamonds down the middle. It was beautiful, he said it was his promise never to leave me again and by wearing it I was making the promise to stay with him always. I loved it and him so much, I never took the thing off. Our bliss was sadly short lived, I could tell it was all getting to Harrison. He was always stressed out and soon became distant. We had arranged that every 2 weeks one of us would visit the other. But he soon started skipping his weekends. I tried to understand, I mean he was in law after all he must’ve just been busy. Anyhow, after we both graduated we would have loads of time for each other I reasoned. I wasn’t alone through it all though, I had made a great friend, who was also from Jersey, coincidentally. We just never crossed paths back home because we lived on opposite sides of town and attended different schools. He was also in the creative writing program. We met the first day freshman year and were best friends for the four years we spent at school together. His name: Grayson Bailey Dolan (I liked to call him Bailey to annoy him as he kind of hated his middle name ;)). He had a twin brother named Ethan who was our third musketeer. It was always the three of us. That is until Ethan started seeing Alicia, his now girlfriend. Then it was just me and Bailey most of the time. But we didn’t mind. We always had a ball together. He was always there for me, after Harrison and I had a big fight, or if Harrison couldn’t make it out for the weekend and I was down. He was sweet and sensitive and always lent me a shoulder to cry on. If it wasn’t for him I don’t know what would’ve happened to me. Anyway, back to Harrison. After I finished my final exams I decided to fly home early to surprise him. His graduation was first and my exams finished a few days before it. The original plan was he was going to send the jet to pick me up the night before the ceremony. But it had been almost a month since we’s seen each other (exams and all) and I wanted to spend a few extra days with him so I hopped a last minute flight back to Jersey. Grayson dropped me at the airport that day. I remember because we sort of fought about it. He was worried because he knew things had been rocky between me and Harrison. You see Harrison was normally a pretty chill guy. But when he got stressed he drank and when he drank… lets just say you wanna stay out of his way. It was like sober Harrison was Mr. Hyde and drunk Harrison was Dr. Jekyll. On more than one occasion he hurt me; the first time it happened he pushed me down and kicked me a few times in the stomach, leaving behind a few bruises on my torso. Another time he twisted me arm so bad he fractured my wrist. I know what your thinking, why the hell didn't I leave him right? The truth is I don’t really know… I know I should’ve… I know Bailey wanted me to, he was furious when he saw me hurt… but I was just so in love with him… and every time I looked down at my hand and saw the ring I couldn’t bring myself to leave him… my heart was telling me that he needed me, and I couldn’t just abandon him. Little did I know he was the one that was abandoning me… Grayson begged me not to go back and just to end things: “Y/N please, he just going to hurt you again. He needs more help than you can give him, cant you see that?” “Grayson I’m not having this argument again, I hate fighting with you and I don’t want another episode like last night.” I say remembering the ugly fight we had the night before. “But-“ “But nothing, I love him… and I promised I would stay and I cant go back on that promise…” I reply glancing at the ring. “The second he raised a hand to you he lost the right to have you. No man has the right to defile a woman like that, especially a woman as incredible as you…” he says moving a stray hair from my face. “Listen Bailey, I love that you care about me like this and worry about me, but I’ll be fine ok. Besides, he’ll be more calm now that finals are over.” I say taking his hands in mine. “Ok… just promise me one thing…” he says running his fingers over my still bandaged right wrist and the fresh bruises on the left one. “What?” “If he lays a hand on you again you leave for good ok? Don’t let him hurt you again.” He says now hugging me. “Ok, I promise. I’ll take care of myself.” I reply hugging him back. The hug lingers a little longer than it should, but I like it… I like the warmth that comes with his embrace and the smell of his crisp cologne. “Last call for flight 810 to New Jersey” a female voice calls over the intercom. “Ok thats me.” I say finally letting go of him. He kisses my forehead softly and watches me walk off. “Have a safe flight, see you for graduation!” I hear him call before entering the gate. “See you soon Bailey!” I call back, catching one last glimpse of him rolling his eyes before handing the lady my ticket and walking through the gate.

A couple hours later; after watching half of the in flight movie, reading a little and of course face timing Gray; I was in a cab on the way to the Waverly Estate; where Harrison was now living in the guest house (he just needed the space and we needed the privacy; but his parents still wanted him close enough to keep an eye on him). I was giddy, I had never been so excited to see him. We pulled up and the cab driver got out, opened the door for me and got my bags. I paid him before walking around back to the guest house. I noticed a car I wasn’t familiar with in the driveway, but didn’t think much of it. Edward was always having colleges over for meetings so it wasn’t unusual to see the odd car parked in the driveway now and again. When I reached the door to the guest house however, I started to worry. I heard sounds… coming from inside. When I heard a female laugh I thought it must be Naidene, she was in 12th grade now and Harrison sometimes let her and her boyfriend Julian use the guest house so they wouldn’t be caught by Edward or Vivian. I slowly opened the door and tiptoed in. The noises continued and started to get louder. “Dene… is that you?” I whispered knocking on the bedroom door, its not closed all the way and it swings open. I gasp, my hands flying to cover my mouth. Its Harrison with some bleach blonde girl I’ve never see before. “Y/N! What are you doing here? Your not supposed to be back til tomorrow!” Harrison screams pulling the sheets up to cover himself and the girl. “Harrison who is this?” The girl asks “Shut up Kelly!” He screams back. “Harrison how could you? After everything we’ve been through! I stayed I kept my promise! I cant- I just can’t…” I stammer, tears streaming down my cheeks now. I pull the ring he gave me off my finger and leave it on the dresser, turning to leave. “Wait- I can explain!” I take a deep breath and without turning around respond: “I don’t want to hear it, its over. We’re done Harrison.” I pull my sleeve up to expose my bruises, not just to remind Harrison of what he’s done, but to silently warn Kelly what she’s in for. Then I leave. I get a cab back to the airport and call Bailey on the way. I tell him the whole ugly story and without seeing him I can tell he’s probably clenching his fists. I tell him to calm down and not to break any walls. All I need is a little ice cream and a little Adele and I’ll be fine. We pull up to the airport and I’m still on the phone with him. I pay the driver, take my bags and walk inside to try to get a ticket back to Illinois. “Do I need to say I told you so Y/N? You knew this was coming, the way he was distant, I mean how often were you guys actually speaking in the last couple weeks?” “Grayson please I don’t need this right now ok! I know he was a douche, I know he was treating me like trash, but I loved him. And  I thought he loved me. We were together for almost eight years! That means something to me! I mean do you have any idea how painful it is to see the one you love in somebody else arms?” I say breaking down into tears. “I’m sorry.” He replies. I look up and see him standing in front of me, phone to his ear. He locks eyes with me and we both hang up as I run into his arms. He wraps his strong arms around me and sob into his chest. “Shh… its gonna be ok.” He whispers, holding me tight and rubbing my back. Little did I know he knew exactly how I felt when I saw Harrison and Kelly… the same way he felt when he saw me and Harrison… He held me like this for a few moments and then we got our tickets. The flight back was quiet, accept of course for my crying. I kept my head on his shoulder and eventually passed out. As I drifted off to sleep I pondered about this being the last time I saw Harrison… boy was I wrong.

Chapter 1: The First Week We spent the week we had off before our graduation together, mostly in the little apartment I had been living in. It was one of the hardest weeks of my life, but it had a happy ending. Ethan and Alicia spent most of their time at the twins place. The day before the ceremony however, E came over with Alicia and the four of us spent the day together. “Hey you… how you feeling?” Ethan said coming into the living room and seeing me under blankets on the sofa surrounded by tissues and junk food. “A little better I guess…” I say standing to hug him. His hug is sweet, but its not the same as Bailey’s, I couldn’t place why at the time, it just felt different. “Hey Y/N, why don’t you hop in the shower while I clean up here a bit, and then we can watch some movies or something?” Bailey says tapping my shoulder gently. “Are you trying to tell me something Bailey?” I say, letting go of Ethan and turning to face Gray, hand on my hip. “No no, of course not. I just meant-“ “I’m just kidding, I get you. I’ll feel much better after a shower. I’ll be back in a few.” I reply going off to the bathroom.

Bailey’s POV

“Baby, I’m gonna go pick up some ice cream and pizza, break up essentials. I’ll be back soon, let her know when she comes back ok?” Alicia says kissing Ethan and then gesturing to me knowingly as she leaves. Ethan gives her an “I know” look and walks her out before coming back to help me clean. “So, what was that look about?” I ask “What look?” “C’mon E, I’m not an idiot.” “Actually you kinda are.” He says patting my on the shoulder and going to the kitchen to throw away some garbage. “What do you mean?” I reply following him “Dude, you realize if you had told her the way you felt weeks ago she may not be in the mess she is now?” “Yeah, like its really that simple. Its not like if I told her I was in love with her she’d just dump the douche and come running to me. She was with him for almost eight years, you cant just undo that with three words!” “Yeah, but you’ve been involve with her since freshman year! Thats almost half the time she’s been with him! You knew he was pushing her around, she wasn’t safe with him and somewhere deep down I have to believe she knew it. She’s too smart not to have. All she needed was a little push to see it. You could have given her that push.” “Don’t you think I’ve been trying! I’ve been begging her for weeks to dump the ass wipe! She was so in love with him, nothing could change that. She doesn’t feel that way about me, I just have to accept that.” “No you don’t bro. I know you better than I know myself, you’ve never felt this way about any girl before and you probably never will again. That means something. Listen, I see the way she looks at you sometimes, the way your always there for her whenever, wherever. I really believe she notices that too. She loves you, I know it, she just doesn’t know it. She’s hurting right now, she has been for a while. But you can help heal that hurt. And when the pain fades and you tell her how you feel, I guarantee she’ll realize she feels the same way.” “Wow dude… that was deep.” “Well it was true.” “Your right, I’m not giving up on-“ “Your not giving up on what?” Y/N says stepping into the kitchen in her robe whilst ringing her hair out with a towel. I just look at her a second, taken aback. I’m mesmerized by the few tiny water droplets that slowly make their way down her legs. For a brief moment I imagine standing in the shower with her, those beautiful legs wrapped around my waist. Before my fantasy escalates I’m brought back into reality by Ethan nudging me. “Earth to Bailey? Where’d you just go?” She asks again. “Oh uh nowhere, I was saying I’m not giving up on… finding the vacuum, where’d you put that thing again?” I nervously stammer. “The hall closet, but you don’t have to worry about that, I can do it after I get dressed.” “Oh no, its my pleasure, I- I mean I don’t mind.” “You’re really to sweet to me Bailey, thanks again.” She replies giving me a peck on the cheek before going back to her room to get dressed. “Be right out!” She calls from her room. “Thank god your not giving up on the vacuum bro!” Ethan jokes once she’s out of sight. “Oh shut up.” I say smacking him on the head and going to get the vacuum.

Y/N’s POV

I go through my drawers trying to find something comfortable to wallow in. I’m rummaging through my shirt drawer and I keep pulling out the Princeton t-shirts Harrison’s been sending me. Frustrated I almost give up before suddenly pulling out one of Bailey’s lacrosse t shirts.  Its purple with the words “NORTHWESTERN LACROSSE” written in block letters and the lacrosse logo below it. Hm, I must’ve borrowed this and forgotten to give it back. I slip it on over my black leggings and bra. Oh its really soft and it still smells like him I think smiling. I decide to keep it on, as its the only thing that’s made me smile the past three days (besides of course Bailey himself). I stroll out into the living room and find the twins chilling on the couch. “Guys the place looks great, thanks so much.” I say walking up to the sofa and rubbing Grayson’s shoulder appreciatively. “No prob, uh Alicia went to get break up essentials.” Ethan says without looking away from his phone.       “Pizza and ice cream?” “Yep.” I walk around to the front of the couch and sit next to Bailey resting my head on his shoulder. “Is that my shirt?” He asks “Oh, yeah I found it in my drawer, I hope its ok that I wear it. The only other clean t shirts I have right now are the bloody ten thousand Princeton shirts Harrison sent me.” “Its cool… do you… do you even remember when you “borrowed it” by the way?” “Not really actually, why the air quotes around “borrow it?”” “Well… because technically you didn’t really borrow it…” he says looking away. “What do you mean?” “Yeah bro, what are you talking about?” Ethan chimes in, now looking up from his phone. “Are you sure you want Ethan hearing this story Y/N?” “How bad is it?” “You know its not your fault, you were really drunk-“ “Oh god, what the hell did I do?” “Well, it was a party that the lacrosse team threw, and Harrison had just told you he wasn’t going to make it here for the weekend… again… and you were understandably pissed and you drank a lot… you were totally wasted and you got up on a table and started dancing… and kind of ripped your shirt off…” “Oh my god! I cant believe I did that! I have no memory of that!” “As soon as you did it I grabbed you off the table and took you to our apartment. Ethan stayed the night at Alicia’s so he wasn’t there. You passed out in my car on the way there, after protesting with me to let you stay at the party. I carried you into my room, placed you on the bed, and had Cameron come over and help clean you up. Then I put one of my t shirts on you and drove you back here.” “And you did all this whilst I was unconscious?” “Yeah, you pretty much slept through all of it.” “So you saw me in my underwear and didn’t tell me?” “Just your bra… you kept your shorts on. I’m sorry if your creeped out… I just wanted to make sure you were ok… and the next day you didn't remember anything, so I though I’d save you the embarrassment and not tell you…” “Creeped out? How could I be creeped out, that is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me! I mean Harrison never did anything like that.” “Grayson how come you didn't tell me about this?” Ethan asks “Because I couldn’t risk anyone blabbing to her, I made all the guys at the party swear not to say anything either.” “Thank you Bailey, just thank you…” I say wrapping my arms around him. “Your welcome, you can keep the shirt by the way.” Soon Alicia came back with the food and we watched movies together all day. It really was exactly what I needed. After I a few hours I could tell Ethan and Alicia really wanted to leave. For the past twenty minutes they were teasing each other and Ethan now sat with a pillow over his lap. “Its ok really E, you guys have been here all day. Besides I have my Bailey. I won’t be alone.” I say putting my arm around Grayson. “Are you sure babe?” Alicia asks “Positive, you guys go have some alone time.” I say winking at Ethan. “See you later Y/N.” Alicia says hugging me and heading to the door. “God bless you Y/N” Ethan whispers hugging me before following Alicia out. “I apologize for him.” Gray says after they leave. “Its ok, I get it. So its just me and you then Bai- I mean Grayson.” I say grazing his arm. “You know if it really bothers you I’ll stop calling you Bailey…” “I don’t mind, I kinda like that your the only one that calls me that…” he replies locking eyes with me. “Thank you… really for everything.” “Don’t mention it.” I lay my head on his shoulder as he plays the next movie. I’m gonna be ok… I think drifting off.

[yuniesan]

Girl Meets Season 5 - Episode 21 – Girl Meets Texas Returns Pt. 2

Synopsis: What can you expect when you’re finishing high school? For Riley her entire world will turn upside down and picking up the pieces will bring her and her friends closer together.

[Previous Episodes]

A/N: um.... uhh..... well.....

Episode 21 – Girl Meets Texas Returns Pt. 2

Josh had gotten back the week before spring break, and while the letters, emails, and video chats had been great, it wasn’t the same as when she was with him. She missed those days when she would draw while he read to her, even though no one really knew about them, she missed the days they worked together at the café. Most of all she missed how he would always show up when she needed him the most. Riley was her best friend in the world, and while they hung out and had girl time, and while Riley loved her like a sister Maya had annoyed her to no end the last two months with her grumpiness.

There was just so much you could do when you missed someone, the way Maya missed Josh.

So when they had planned the trip to Texas, Maya made sure that Josh was going to go with them even if he had just gotten back from his own trip. She would have never thought that the day would come where she would like someone as much as she did Josh. But here it was and she wanted to hold onto that feeling, because she was afraid that everything would go to hell so quickly.

The flight to Texas she sat next to Josh and never moved from her seat, she fell asleep next to him just taking in the warmth of him next to him. In the back of her mind she thought of how ridiculous she was being, all because she wanted to be next to Josh. If she didn’t know any better she would say that Riley’s personality was taking over again, but then she realized that this is what feelings were like when you were in a romantic relationship, and it was weird… but she wasn’t sure if she would trade it in for anything else.

That was how, on the first day after the barbeque she had found herself taking Josh by the hand and pulling him towards a set of bushes not far from where their friends were and kissing him under the stars. They would have stayed there all night if Riley hadn’t forced them to go to bed, which was a real disappointment to Maya because she just wanted to be with Josh. The next day they went out for a walk around the ranch, they saw Riley and Lucas with the horses, so the two of them walked in the other direction, and found themselves in a field of flowers. They walked and Josh would pick a few flowers and give them to her, Maya sat there while he chose them carefully, she pulled out her sketchbook and drew the scene in front of her smiling at how beautiful it all was.

That night, the words campfire floated into the air and Maya was all of a sudden thrown back to a day so many years ago where everything went wrong because she had had a moment with Lucas. She knew the cause of it all now but at the time she hadn’t, that night she wanted to forget she had ever hurt her best friend so she took Josh back to the bushes and kissed him senseless. He knew something was wrong, he knew the story so he held her close and gave her what she wanted… comfort.

The next day Josh pulled her aside and took her back to the field.

“Are you alright?” he asked her as they sat down and watched the flowers move with the soft breeze.

“It’s just that,” she said looking at the flowers in front of her. “Last night I realized just how much I hurt Riley all of those years ago, I mean she forgave me way too easily for all of it because of our friendship… Josh I really hurt her.”

He pulled her close and rubbed his hand up and down her back. “I know what happened, well most of it, and I could see the way Riley tensed up last night at the sheer mention of a campfire, but after a while she relaxed so in the end she’s dealing with it as much as you are but there’s one thing that’s different right now versus what happened then.”

“What’s that?”

“You’re all in relationships, and you’re all happy, and most of all your classmates aren’t getting into your heads,” he said to she smiling.

She smiled back realizing that the one problem she had trouble with during middle school, it was losing Riley as a friend, but they’re still friends so in the end that didn’t matter. The other thing was that she had Josh with her, unlike before where she was trying to get over him and letting everything else into her mind. He was an anchor for her in the same way Riley was, they had a piece of her heart and made sure that she didn’t lose herself again.

“Now I know you’re happy to see me and all,” Josh said breaking her out of her thoughts. “But maybe we should do something more than make out while we’re here… what do you say?”

“Well I did hear something about a lake,” she said smiling.

Together with the rest of the group they went to the lake that afternoon, along with a couple of tents and several other supplies, and slept under the stars. Talking about the next couple of months. Prom was coming up, so they had to go dress shopping, graduation, and summer vacation were all things they thought about.

From across the campfire, Maya noticed something about Riley, that although her best friend was smiling something in her eyes told her that Riley was battling something within.

Zay hadn’t been back in Texas since his grandmother’s funeral, it was still bittersweet to be in the town he had grown up in without Grandma Gandy making something in her kitchen. But this time he had Cassie with him and he had wanted her to see the world he had lived in when he was growing up. The first night they had just hung out, but the next day after breakfast he pulled her out of the house and took her around town. Farkle and Smackle had come along and the four of them took in the town, looking at all of the interesting things that were available. There wasn’t much but it was still fun to do so with his friends.

Farkle pulled Smackle away to go to Chubbies, so Zay took Cassie to the diner to get some sandwiches and then took her to visit the woman that had helped raise him. His grandmother’s grave was small and simple, instead of having someone bring flowers, Zay had asked that they planted his grandmother’s favorites on the side, the textbook name for them are the Pink Evening Primrose, but they’re also known as pink lady’s to Zay. His grandmother loved them because they opened during the day and closed during the night, or at least that’s how they are in Texas she had told him.

“Hey grandma,” he said as they walked up to the headstone. “This is Cassie, she’s my girlfriend and I wanted to introduce you to each other.”

“Hi,” Cassie said waving as if his grandmother was there with them. “We’re going to have lunch with you if that’s alright.”

As she finished the sentence the breeze picked up and Zay couldn’t help but smile, it was almost as if his grandmother was giving his approval. Zay smiled at Cassie before setting a blanket next to the flowers and sitting down, patting the ground for Cassie to join him.

“Tell me about your grandmother,” Cassie said as they pulled the food out of the bag.

“Well,” Zay said looking at the headstone. “My grandmother took care of me when my parents worked, well my dad worked, my mom went to school at first and then she started working. But Grandma Gandy would have me over and she would bake for me every day afterschool. You know the story with the vanilla, but she was also the one who taught me to ride a bike, and would read me stories and help me with my homework.”

“She sounds wonderful,” she said to him with a small smile on her face.

Zay sighed and looked out into the distance, “I miss her so much,” he said as a tear fell down his face, he honestly missed his grandmother because she had been one of the most constant things in his life even after they had moved to New York she would call him every day and tell him about her life.

After they finished eating and had gone back to the house, Cassie went to get ready for the campfire they were going to have but when Zay saw Lucas he smiled as he watched his best friend with his girlfriend. Something good was coming out of this trip and that was that they were all making new memories separated from what had happened four years ago.

The next day they had gone camping together, but it wasn’t until the day after when he noticed that something wrong with Lucas. He pulled him aside the next morning and talked to him but Lucas kept deflecting.

“Lucas tell me,” Zay said pulling his best friend outside and towards the far end of the front lawn.

“I got accepted into Texas A&M,” Lucas answered with a sadness in his eyes. “My father wants me to go but I don’t know what to do because I want to stay with Riley.”

Zay looked at the older teenager, he had remembered how Lucas always said that going to A&M was his dream, this was long before they moved to New York, long before Riley, long before anything had changed.

“I don’t know what to say,” Zay said before he started pacing.

“As much as it was my dream when I was younger, I don’t know any more about going there, I don’t know any more about anything except for Riley, my friends, and my life in New York.”

“Your dad must be proud it would make you a legacy if you went to the same school, he’s always talked about it from what I remembered.”

“Would it be wrong to think about all of this later… I don’t want to deal with it right now.”

“Yeah man, anything you want, but I think you should talk to Riley about this.”

“Eventually, for now I just don’t want this trip to be tainted by anything, I want her to have happy memories from here.”

Zay patted him on the back and nodded. “But the minute we get back you have to talk to her.”

“I will,” Lucas said before walking away.

Zay knew that Lucas had a lot on his shoulders now, but he also knew that Lucas wouldn’t give up Riley for anything not when she was the one who kept him anchored.

They had been in Texas for five days, they were leaving the next morning to go back home and regroup before they went back to school on Monday, but Riley wasn’t feeling happy anymore. Everything had been going great until the day they had gone camping, that afternoon Lucas had gone into town with his grandfather and hadn’t come back until they were ready to leave for the lake. The whole thing put her on edge for some reason and she couldn’t figure out why, it shouldn’t have, but it still made her uneasy.

When they got back to the ranch the next day, while everyone went to sleep Riley had gotten comfortable in a hidden corner of the back porch and watched the stars as if they would help her get over the uneasy feeling in her gut. That’s when she had overheard a conversation between Lucas and his grandfather, while Lucas’s father was on speaker phone. The uneasy feeling settled in her stomach for good right afterwards. Lucas had been accepted to his first choice school, in Texas, and everyone was asking him if he wanted to go.

Riley walked away afterwards and went to the barn to be with the horses, the animals that Lucas loved so much, the reason why he wanted to be a veterinarian. She looked at them and wondered what Lucas would do, would he stay in New York or move back to Texas? What would she do? Could she give him up to let him fulfill his dream?

She thought about how she was giving up NYU for Maya, and wondered if she would let Lucas do the same, and the answer came to her as she sat there in the small office Pappy Joe kept in the back. She couldn’t. She loves him with all of her heart but she would never want to get between him and his dream it was too painful. Riley had applied to the same school Lucas had but the thought of moving so far away from home, so far away from the memories, it hurt too much. She didn’t know if she could do it. She had fallen asleep on the chair thinking of Lucas, and his dreams, of what he wanted.

It was an uneasy sleep, because she dreamt of the fights they would have because she made him stay over going to the school he had dreamed of going to. The fights that would break them apart, the reasons why she had been afraid for so long… the reasons she kept pushing their relationship back for so long. Could she give up the one person she loved so that he could find his own dream?

“Yes,” she said waking up and looking at the rising sun in the distance.

So no one would know that she hadn’t been in the house she sat down on the porch like that first night and watched the sky change colors in front of her. Spring as about new beginnings, but for her it was about breaking her own heart so that Lucas could find his dream.

They went back to New York with happier memories from Texas, but Riley was holding onto the hope that maybe she wouldn’t have to give Lucas, but in her heart she didn’t want him to give up his dream school. She went to bed that night with a heaviness in her heart knowing that she would have to look through the stack of letters that were on her desk from when she had been gone, and that she needed to let Lucas go so he wouldn’t give up his dream for her.

[lonely-little-lovely]

Tog fake dating for the au thing! Btw I love your blog!

IT’S FINALLY DONE. You didn’t say a specific ship so I hope you’re okay with Rowaelin. And tysm darling, I love your blog too! I hope you like this

"Okay," says Aelin, nails (which are freshly manicured, of course) thrumming against the side of her her laptop. "How about this? 'Ms. Galathynius regrets to inform the class of '07 that she cannot make it to this year's class reunion, as she has better shit to do.'" 

"No, that sucks," Aedion, her cousin, shakes his head from where he's sitting on the couch. His girlfriend Lysandra, Aelin's ex nemesis turned best friend, lounges on the other side, her feet in Aedion's lap, and she makes a sound of agreement at his claim. "That makes it obvious you're hiding something." 

Aelin glares at him. "I'm not hiding anything." She shuts the laptop on 'anything' as if to prove her point and swirls in her chair, knees up to her chest. "High school is a closed chapter of my life that I'd rather not open." That part is true. At a young age, her parents had been murdered, and she and Aedion had been separated in the foster system. Aedion was lucky enough to stay close to home, but Aelin had been shipped to Rifthold, where her creepy foster dad Arobynn had let her roam free. And roaming free for teenagers sometimes equals multiple overdoses, getting arrested, and starting riots at block parties. 

But that's not necessarily why she doesn't want to go. Both Lys and Aedion know she's been looking forward to this for years, to show how she's gone from druggie to successful lawyer who, at 28, is already partnered with a law firm in New York City. And she still is damn proud. But also... single. "I don't want to go alone, okay?"

"Jesus, Ace," groans Aedion. "You're in your twenties and can afford a flat-a nice one- in the Big fucking Apple. So what if you don't have a boyfriend right now?" 

Lysandra winces. "Um... I know this isn't helpful, but all of Rifthold High will probably care." Aelin nods and throws her cousin an 'I told you so' look. 

"Definitely not helpful, Lys." He sighs. "It won't help that we're going to be there, too?" Lysandra was also Rifthold High alumni. She and Aelin-who'd gone by Celaena back then- had hated each other until after graduation, actually, when Lysandra had needed 'professional opinion' on which lawyer to go to help get her now adoptive sister, Evangeline, out of an abusive home. Aelin had seen the girl's scars and gone spitting, pointing Lysandra in the direction to the right lawyer and giving them a place to stay. Six years later, Lys was still her roommate, though Aelin wasn't sure how long that would last. Not after she'd caught Aedion ring shopping. 

"No, it won't," she tells them. "I... this is super petty, but both Chaol and Dorian are in relationships." Dorian had been a fling senior year for a few months. They'd agreed to stay just friends that summer, as he was staying in Rifthold and she was going to get her life together, and they'd done quite a job at that, actually. It was Chaol she was worried about. They'd bumped back into each other when she was 24 and he'd just turned 25, a police officer at NYPD. Of course they just had to hit it off. Really well. They stayed together for two years, migrating Dorian back into her life as well, when he proposed. She said yes, but everything fell to hell not soon after that. Though they'd made up and stayed tentative friends, he'd moved on much more quickly, is already engaged again to one Nesryn Faliq, who Aelin desperately wants to hate but can't. 

Aedion mutters something that sounds like, 'Yeah, that's definitely petty,' but Lysandra shoots into a sitting position. "Oh Gods, I didn't even think about that. Okay, let's think. Fenrys?" 

"Dating Asterin Blackbeak," Aelin tells her.

"Ren?" 

"Gay, and since I want to set him up with Nox, I can't pretend he's straight." 

"Uh... borrow Lorcan from Elide?" 

She laughs at that, hard, and so does Aedion. Elide, her adoptive sister, definitely would let her, but even though she and Lorcan have a tentative truce going, Aelin has no doubt that he'd tell everyone that he's actually engaged to her little sister at the first chance he got. 

"Yeah," Lysandra sighs. "I figured."

 "Really, I'll just go to the 25th annual reunion," says Aelin, playing with a piece of blonde hair. "Even if I'll be so much less hot." 

"You have to go!" Her best friend protests. "Nehemia and Nox will be there. And... Aelin, Gods, you have to go for Sam." Immediately, her heart lurches . Damn it, Lys has her. Sam had been her high school sweetheart sophomore and junior year, until he'd driven drunk, Aelin hopped up on coke in the passenger seat. They'd gone into an intersection without stopping, and, well... only one had come out. 

Aelin curses. "I know." She also knows that if he had lived, they'd be going there together, possibly married, possibly already with a kid. The idea of bringing another guy suddenly puts a rotten taste in her mouth, but she knows she's too proud and vain to go alone, even with the thought of Sam looming overhead. 

And then an idea hits her. 

"Holy shit I'll be right back," she tells them before she's out of her chair and sprinting to the door and across the hallway. She bangs impatiently, because honestly, it's only 7:00 and if he's asleep he's a pansy. He isn't- the door opens, revealing his ridiculously hot and scowling face, and the dyed silver hair that should look dumb but doesn't at all. 

"Oh," he sighs. "It's you." 

Usually, she'd respond with a rebuttal, but there's already a big chance he'll say no and sassing him won't help in any way. She takes in a deep breath and says, "Whitethorn, I need a favor." -

Aelin is already regretting this. 

Not Rowan himself, surprisingly. He'd shown up at her flat in a tux that goes surprisingly well with his face tattoos, contrasting them to just the right amount, and been a perfect gentleman. Aedion's still a little mopey that there's another alpha male in his presence, but he's coming around, and Lysandra had already known him, so it's no surprise she approves of Aelin's date choice. No, Rowan has been nothing but courteous and surprisingly funny, and they aren't even to the reunion yet, so she can't exactly regret him. 

What she regrets is what she'd agreed to give him in exchange for him accompanying her to the reunion and behaving. 

'I'll owe you' she'd told him like an idiot. They've just gone from hating each other to disliking each other and also wanting to fuck each other's brains out, and so when she saw the way his eyes lit up mischievously and he'd immediately agreed to doing this, she'd known she was fucked. 

Oh well. As long as he doesn't make her favor writing to her entire graduating class, 'Hey, you know that really hot guy I took with me to our reunion? Not my boyfriend! I lied, lmao!' she'll be fine. 

"I didn't say this before," he murmurs in her ear as they begin the walk up to registration for the reunion. "But you look stunning." 

She's not sure if she's blushing or not as she says, "I know. You clean up well too, Buzzard." Had his lips just twitched into a half smile? 

The registration doesn't take long, only signing her name to show she was here, as well as clicking an x for 'one guest,' and as they wait for Lysandra to do the same, Aelin checks her reflection in a nearby glass display case. She'd chosen to wear a dress she's had for a while but never been able to wear- it's black and long sleeved, hugging to her body, and on the back of it is a gold dragon that winds up her body, which is evidently her favorite color. Of course she looks magnificent. She'll never look anything less. 

Lys and Aedion join them-they're color coordinated, Gods, they're so cute it's nauseating- and then it's the four of them striding towards the old gym doors. Aelin loops her arm through Rowan's, half expecting him to raise an eyebrow at her, but of course he doesn't. Of course he knows they're pretending to date, because duh, it's implied.

She jumps when she feels his breath against her ear, followed by the low timbre of his voice. "Pretend I just said something funny." 

Aelin laughs softly even as she grits back, "Or you could, you know, actually say something funny. If you're capable of that." 

"Ouch," he chuckles softly. "Easy, Galathynius. Remember I'm doing you a favor." How could she forget? She glances at him, expecting there to be hidden warning in his eyes, but there's nothing but amusement. And it only makes her feel as though he's REALLY going to make her regret this later on, even more than she’s been assuming. "I've never seen you so nervous before. Or, well, I've never seen you nervous at all, actually." 

She's sure it's obvious, but she still replies, "High school wasn't the best of experiences for me." 

She, again, expects him to tease her, or subtly use that information against her, but instead he starts telling her this story from when he and Lorcan used to work together. She had been aware her sister's fiance had worked with her neighbor, but she hadn't known they had worked so closely. And she's so busy listening attentively that she doesn't notice the few people in the hall that stop, doesn't hear them murmuring. 'Wow, is that Celaena? Twenty bucks says she relapsed.' 'Who is that with her? He's a hunk.' She hears none of it, because of Rowan. 

They enter the gym, which is filled with tacky lighting, including strobe lights, and a bar that Aelin will not be partaking in, despite everyone else's beliefs. They're just moving to the sober people punch when there's a shout. "Elentiya!" Aelin's immediately turning, letting go of Rowan's arm, because there's Nehemia, looking radiant in gold. She looks older, more mature, but as soon as she smiles Aelin's pretty sure she's never been happier to see someone in her entire life, except perhaps when she'd found Aedion again after graduating. 

They embrace, laughter bubbling over. Nehemia will always have a soft place in her heart, will always be her original anchor. Without her, Aelin would probably still be Celaena, and she'd probably be six feet under. Behind her is Nox, who she embraces as well before leading the both of them back to the group. "You've both met my cousin Aedion." Aedion nods, even embraces Nehemia. "This is Rowan Whitethorn. Rowan, these are Nox and Nehemia, two of the only people I actually liked during high school." And it's true. 'Celaena' had known everyone, but liked very few. 

She's thinking 'okay, NOW he's definitely going to screw this up.'But again, stupid Whitethorn with his stupid perfect face and stupid manners and stupid intelligence that has even Nehemia impressed, proves her wrong. "I'm going to go get us some punch," he excuses himself after a few minutes, and maybe her heart skips a beat when he brushes a piece of hair back behind her ear, maybe it doesn't. "Oh my Gods, where did you find him?" Nox exclaims as soon as Rowan and Aedion have strode out of ear shot. "He's so yummy, Ce-Aelin." 

"I suppose 'yummy' is one accurate way to describe him," teases Nehemia. "But really, Elentiya. Where did you meet him?" 

"I don't see how that's any of your business," Aelin replies primly.

Both of her friends look to Lysandra, who immediately reports, "He's our neighbor." 

Aelin glares. "Lys!" Her best friend merely grins like a cat in response. 

"Where is it he's from?" Nox asks. "Because the accent is sexy and I've decided I want one of him." 

Aelin smirks, and almost feels like she's... bragging when she says, "He's from Wendlyn, Scotland."

"Who's from Scotland?" She knows that voice. 

"Dorian!" She's smiling as she turns and pulls him into a hug, which he gladly returns, before turning to his date. "Manon." 

Manon dips her head. "Aelin." They've just recently gotten on first name terms, mainly because of the fact that they both love Elide to death and Manon's around enough to make herself tolerable.

"No, really, who's from Scotland?" Dorian asks again, and Nox looks so smug she's half convinced he's going to sing out, 'Aelin has a boyfriendddd!" 

He doesn't get the chance, though. Chaol strolls up, Nesryn on his arm, and Gods, Aelin REALLY wishes she could hate her, simply because of the way she looks in that dress. But she can't, and in that moment, she doesn't even feel slightly resentful towards her ex, which she typically does. She smiles in a way that's not pained, and their hug, for once, is not tense. And Rowan walks back over. 

The night goes smoother than she can imagine, and she should be worried about how well he's behaving like she was before, but most of the time she's too busy laughing. She introduces Rowan to her friends, and she can immediately tell Chaol is jealous- but not because of her. No, he's jealous because Dorian and Rowan are 'bros' in a solid five minutes. Cain is still a dick, but his remarks roll right off her back, and he only says them until Rowan saunters up with a 'Everything okay, Fireheart?' -which oh my Gods, she's pretty sure Fireheart is her new favorite nickname. And Kaltain... Kaltain is better, less of a bitch. Maybe a little empty (Aelin had heard that she'd done meth for a while), but trying. Aelin, of all people, knows what trying to move passed your mistakes looks like. 

And she dances. 'Warning Sign' by Coldplay comes on, and Rowan literally sings in her ear-except instead of the actual lyrics, he's singing about what people are doing around them to the melody, and she has to put a hand over her mouth to keep from ugly snorting, her shoulders shaking with the effort. Still, even though she stays longer than she expected (she'd expected to stay for thirty minutes tops and they're bordering on two and a half hours now), she's ready to go long before Lysandra is. She turns to Rowan. "Want to get out of here?" He raises his eyebrows, and she rolls her eyes. "Not that, you buzzard. There's a pancake house down the street." She'd spent many hungover mornings there in her teens. "They have no real food here and I'm starving." 

He doesn't even have to consider- doesn't shrug in disinterest like Chaol would have, either. "That sounds great." She leaves with plans for Nehemia and Nox to come visit soon (and more frequently), and to the sounds of whistling from her friends as she laces her fingers through Rowan's and they exit the gym. Once they've made it outside, Rowan glances at her sideways, their hands still laced together. "You made it sound like it was going to be awful there." 

"Well, to be fair, I thought it would be," she shrugs. There's an urge to tell him the real reason why it would be awful- because of Sam, but she still barely knows this man. And 'hey, I'm partly responsible for the first love of my life's death' is not a light first date-fake, she reminds herself, fake date,- topic. Maybe someday, though. If he doesn't do a personality 180 and make more bonding like this impossible. 

"Your friends are nice. Did you date the Chaol guy?" 

Ever perceptive Rowan. "Yeah, I did. It, uh, didn't end well, but we've worked through it. Ah, here it is." They stop in front of the pancake house. "I'm eating french toast until I pass out." He chuckles-he's been doing that a lot tonight- and follows her inside. 

They go straight to their seats, and ten years later, the booth she picks is still HER booth. It brings an ache to her heart, but she focuses on the hot guy sitting across from her in the present instead of heartbreaking memories, and they chatter as easily as they have all night. It's only when she's (finally) pouring syrup onto her french toast that she says, "I haven't thanked you for tonight." 

He looks confused. "You have. At least five times." 

"No, I don't mean the favor," she shakes her head. "I mean thank you for making it fun. And helping me relax a bit. Also, thanks for scaring the shit out of Cain. I hate that guy." 

His lips curl up in a way that makes him look almost... bashful? "Thank you for inviting me." Okay, she's had enough- she can't wait any longer to know what he damn wants. He's been nothing but perfect, and NO ONE acts this way without a price. Not for her, anyways. 

"Okay, spit it out," she sighs, spearing a piece of strawberry with her fork. "What's your price?"

He blinks. "What?" 

"I told you I'd owe you a favor, and there's obviously something you want really badly, so what is it? I would really appreciate if it wasn't gross, but if it is I'll do it anyways. Because I'm not a wimp." 

His face goes from shocked to amused to- ah, there it is- mischievous. "Okay, you caught me." She braces herself. "Go on a real date with me." 

Wait. 

"Wh-what?" She stammers.

His confidence sputters for a second before he repeats himself. "Go on a date with me. And no, it doesn't include this pancake house." 

She's gaping. "Is this a joke?" His confidence sputters again, and he shakes his head. "I... I thought you hated me." 

He looks actually affronted by the idea. "Maybe at first, but it hasn’t been that way for a long, long time. I've just..." Maybe it's the lighting, but she can swear his cheeks have gone a little red. "I've been too much of a coward to ask you." 

"And that's what you've been planning to use your 'favor' on the entire time?" He blushes harder. Oh my Gods, this is the cutest thing she's ever seen, and she can't wait to tell Lysandra, but she forces herself not to blurt out a 'Yeah, when? Right now? I'm game for now.' Instead, she sighs dramatically. "Oh, I should have never given you that damned favor." But her voice drips with sarcasm and she's grinning, and when he does too her heart leaps in her chest. It feels familiar, slightly. It feels long waited. "Text me when, Buzzard. You've got yourself a date."

Has she mentioned how glad she is she went to her high school reunion?

[nova-writes]

10 Albums That Made A Lasting Impression During Your Teenage Years

I lived my Teen years (13-19) right in the middle of the Aughts, 2002 through 2008. That was an interesting time for music. Emo revival was just starting and Hardcore bands of the 90′s were starting to figure out what came next for them. I’m sure pop music was doing interesting things, but I was adamantly opposed to pop music as teenage, so there won’t be much of that.

The only Rule™ for this list (because lists need rules), is to use only one Album per Artist/Band. I will also try to go chronologically, but if you’re playing along at home, you make your list however you want. The “Chronogality” (that’s a world, don’t look it up) might get a bit skewed because, as I previously mentioned, I tended to shy away from popular music, so some of the albums didn’t come out during this time frame, it’s just when I discovered them.

On with the list!

2002

Gorillaz - S/T (2001)

Okay, so right out the gate I’m cheating. The brainchild of musician Damon Albarn and artist Jamie Hewlett came out just before I was a teen in 2001. But the virtual band consisting of 2-D, Murdoc, Russel, and Noodle illustrated by Hewlett was one of the first bands I discovered for myself. And I didn’t discover it until it had been out for a while.

Largely to do with their interactive flash animated website and bizarre music videos, their music and artistic style largely influenced my own art and led me to discover Tank Girl, Hewletts comic book series.

You might be thinking “Didn’t they say they didn’t listen to pop music? Their first pick is a pop group, what’s going on here?” To which I remind you I said there wouldn’t be much of that, not none at all. This was also “Phase 1″ of the Gorillaz master plan, entitled Celebrity Take Down, so that resonated with me. Also, the Gorillaz may enjoy some commercial success, but at this point they were still largely an indie group, collaborating with Hip Hop artists, producers, and indie rappers (Kid Koala, Dan the Automator, and Del the Funky Homosapien respectively). Also, revisiting this album later on led me to discover Del’s other project Deltron 3030.

2003

AFI - Sing the Sorrow (2003)

2003 was the year I discovered the color black, and I’ve never worn another color since (exaggeration, but not by much). This is also when I started to struggle with depression and other feelings and the goth-punk songs written by singer Davey Havok, bassist Hunter Burgan, guitarist Jade Puget, and drummer Adam Carson spoke to my early teen angst.

My introduction to AFI came from seeing the video for Girls Not Grey on the music channel Fuse (formally Much Music). I then probably pirated the music, because it was the 00′s, but I did also eventually buy a copy of the Album. This was also the first commercially successful for harcore-group-turned-goth band AFireInside.

AFI was the group that bonded my first real best friend and I together. We were both obsessed with the album, and we were determined to start a band (which we did and it was terrible). Together we worked our way through their back catalog and eventually discovered punk and hardcore music.

Minor Threat - Out of Step (1983)

After listening to Shut Your Mouth And Open Your Eyes by AFI and learning of the existence of Hardcore music, it wasn’t long before I discovered the “Big Three” of 80′s hardcore punk music: Black Flag, Bad Brains, and Minor Threat.

The icon art of Raymond Pettibon for Black Flag is still something that influences my art and Bad Brains influences many of my favorite bands and I appreciate them much more today, but Minor Threat’s anger is something that really resonated with me at the time. They definitely shaped the sound of the next band I was in, which was only a little better of an attempt than my first band.

Strangely enough, the Straight Edge mentality that is extremely prevalent throughout Minor Threats music never really took hold on me, but their other messages were clear to me, we’re outsiders and we’re taking a stand for what we believe in.

2004

My Chemical Romance - Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge (2004)

After my band broke up, I got pretty sick of the monotony of 80’s hardcore music (get over it, it’s boring). I was still pretty goth, even if I was a hardcore kid, so the second album by MCR was the perfect pop-punk answer to my jaded hardcore sensibilities, with Gerard Way’s long black hair and makeup, guitarist Frank Iero & bassist Mikey Way’s emo-hair, and lead guitarist Ray Toro & drummer Matt Pelissier’s heavy riffs and fast tempo playing.

Three Cheers remains one of my favorite guilty pleasure albums. I got made fun of a lot by my hardcore friends and ex-bandmates for liking them, but my lifelong friend Nyk and I would drive around (with my newly acquired license) and sing along to “I’m Not Okay (I Promise)” at the top of our lungs. Sorry about outing you, Nyk.

The Blood Brothers - Crimes (2004)

After cleansing my hardcore pallet with emo music, I discovered The Blood Brothers seminal album Crimes. It was a perfect mix of the hardcore music I had started my teens with and the more theatrical emo music. Jordan Blilie’s soulful crooning and shrill scream and Johnny Whitney, whose voice has been described as “a child being tortured”, battle over lead vocal duties with Cody Votolato, Mark Gajadhar, and Morgan Henderson rounding out the instrumentalists (they all play multiple instruments), The Blood Brothers are a force to be reckoned with.

I didn’t know hardcore music could sound like this. I learned people called it “post-hardcore” usually lower case like that. The Blood Brothers and the label they were on, Three One G, led me to many other bands that I loved.

I’m pretty proud to say that between 2004 and 2007 when they broke up, I never missed a show when they came to town. Their live performances were extremely energetic. You could feel the electricity in the air.

2005

Modern Life Is War - My Love, My Way (2003)

In 2005 MLIW released the album Witness, which is a fantastic album and I contemplated putting it on here instead, but in anticipation of the new album coming out I listened My Love fairly constantly. My hardcore friends were already fans of Modern Life, but it wasn’t until 2005 that I discovered them.

It’s hard to say how important My Love, My Way is to me without sounding cliche, but this album honestly saved my life. I had been struggling with my depression and Jeff Eaton told me it’s okay, I am too, but we’ll get through this. I’ll let the lyrics speak for themselves.

“We’ve been to the edge and we know what it’s like to want to die, and that’s something we won’t glorify. We’ll leave those miserable times behind. How far can I go? I’m rising from the depths of my own hell. I don’t need another tragic tale, I need the strength to walk the other way. I found conviction in my ever changing mind. I grew up tied down and bleeding on the inside, but I know I was a victim of my own device, and I want to live to see a brand new life.”

Modern Life Is War is another band that I went to every show I could. Even driving to Marshalltown, Iowa to see their Farewell Show. Their breakup didn’t last long as they got back together in 2013 to release another album and play more shows. They are still going strong now.

2006

Tegan and Sara - So Jealous (2006)

Sisters Sara and Tegan Quinn playing heartfelt indie songs about break-ups is exactly what I needed in 2006 when my first serious partner dumped me. Even listening to it now as I write this, it’s bringing up memories of feeling heartbroken and that every song is specifically about you.

Where do you go with your broken heart in tow? How do you know when to let go? Where does the good go??

Everyone who has experienced love and a hard break-up should listen to this album. Do that and tell me it’s not perfect.

Modest Mouse - The Moon & Antarctica (2000)

2006-2007 was my senior year of high school, and I was lucky enough to have a pretty incredible art program at my school. I had teachers who were actually working artists and forced us as students to create better and better art. They treated us like artists and it was the first time I felt like an adult was giving me any respect.

My studio art teacher was a huge fan of Modest Mouse and would play their music during class. This was the golden age of the iPod, so I soon had Good News For People Who Love Bad News and The Moon & Antarctica and listened to it even while not in class. It was also one of the first Vinyl albums I ever bought.

Twangy guitars playing over Isaac Brock’s strange voice singing about the concept of being an asshole and that everyone has the capability of fucking you over. What’s not to love? And the deeply critical song “A Different City” about the escapism of moving away and the terrifying reality of failing. A great song to listen to when you’re making your plans to move out on your own for the first time.

2007

Against Me! - Searching For A Former Clarity (2005)

After graduating high school with limited interest in attending college, my parents bought me a laptop as incentive to apply. I did and went for about one semester before dropping out, but now I had my own computer, so that was a pretty good trade off.

I ended up putting three AM! Albums and one Mischief Brew album on my computer and I listened to them constantly. I didn’t have internet access at my house during 2007 so that was the only music I had. Against Me! became my favorite band. Laura Jane Grace’s take on punk-rock and anarchy shaped my worldview.

I didn’t realize then why Laura’s music was so important to me beyond the anarchist politics until years later in 2012 when she came out as a transgender woman. In 2007 I was starting to understand where so much of my depression was coming from. So listening to Against Me! songs about dealing with the same issues and feeling was a great feeling of commiseration.

Looking back now, the songs only make more sense. Even if I didn’t know it at the time Against Me! was speaking to me about deeply personal issues, even if subconsciously.

2008

the Mountain Goats - Heretic Pride (2008)

The album that introduced me to the Mountain Goats! I’m really not that cool, so I don’t really know about awesome people like John Darnielle and how he’s been writing music since I was 5. But I heared the song Heretic Pride on the indie radio station and instantly fell in love with them.

Heretic Pride is not my favorite Mountain Goats album (that would be Tallahassee) but it’s the first one I heard at 19 years old and their literary songs have made me strive to make my own writing better.

It’s also the album that I tried to show to my future partner (we started dating in 2009) to try and impress her. She, of course, was a fan already because she’s much cooler than I am. She then proceeded to show me the extensive discography of the Mountain Goats (15 albums) and the rest of the Modest Mouse catalog just for good measure.

Well, there’s my 10 Albums. There are a few more I would like to add if I could pick more than ten. Like Dumby by Portishead, De-Loused in the Comatorium by The Mars Volta, and Pass The Flask by The Bled all squished in there somewhere. But I won’t cheat and have a list of 13 albums. That would be wrong...