#mine's the little hole-in-the-wall chinese place by my mom's house

[nostalgicfun]

Where was your favorite place to go out to eat when you were a kid, and what did you order? 🌈

[purrincess-chat]

Kill Em With Kindness CH2

Thank you all so much for 3.5k (and growing)! You are all so wonderful, and I’m glad that you all enjoy my content enough to stick around and follow. I have a lot of plans for the future, and I just hope that you all will like them! Here is part two of this next spite filled adventure.

The opening scene and really this whole fic were inspired by lenore’s post from forever ago after Chameleon came out so shouts out! Also, I know several of you wanted me to tag you when I updated this, and I will do my best to get everyone, but I suggest getting an AO3 account and subscribing to the fic there instead. You’ll get an email whenever I update, and I always post on AO3 first before tumblr. 

Read on AO3

Previous chapter Next chapter

Chapter 2

“You know, when you made these plans with Adrien, I thought you meant to be nice,” Tikki said chidingly in the bathroom as Marinette washed her hands several days later.

“I am being nice,” Marinette said with an innocent pout.

“You put a ‘Coping with loss’ book on Lila’s desk yesterday.”

“She said her hamster died.”

“And the safety glasses by the napkins in the cafeteria?” Tikki cocked a brow.

“Max was worried about losing an eye.”

“You did your science presentation on tinnitus.”

“Well, after the music festival with Juleka’s mom, I was worried about our hearing.” Marinette snatched a paper towel from the dispenser and dried her hands.

“Your history report on the greatest liars and cheats in history?”

“I became fascinated with P.T. Barnum’s life after that movie and finishing with a comparison of Volpina and Rena Rouge was just a modern-day example everyone could identify with.” Tikki gave her a look. “I got a standing ovation for that presentation.”

“What about the fact-checking robot you petitioned Max to make?”

“For Alya for her birthday! I’m just trying to help her become a better journalist because I’m a good friend.” Marinette placed her hands on her hips haughtily.

“Speaking of Alya, you’ve been telling her to just hang out with Nino lately.”

“She said she wanted to spend more time with him. I’m just being supportive of their relationship,” she shrugged.

“Marinette,” Tikki sighed.

“What? We can’t expose Lila, so we’re just playing along until she inevitably exposes herself which I will watch probably with popcorn,” Marinette said with a laugh. “It’s called kill em with kindness.”

“It’s called being petty.”

“Semantics,” Marinette waved it away, but Tikki was unamused. “Look, I can’t beat Lila at lies. She just makes more, so I’ve come up with another plan that doesn’t harm anyone and keeps everyone from getting mad at me for calling her out. I mean, you saw what happened the other day when she got me expelled. Scarlet Moth almost made a comeback, and I was on the frontlines.”

“I guess we can’t let that happen again…” Tikki reasoned, tapping her chin.

“Exactly. Lila wants everyone to believe those things, so I’m just gonna let her keep falling down the rabbit hole until she eventually hits the bottom,” Marinette said with a twisted grin. “If I happen to push her a little deeper along the way then so be it.”

“That’s very underhanded of you, Marinette.”

“I don’t like it when people use my friends and threaten me.” Marinette clenched her fists. “She almost got me akumatized multiple times now, and we can’t ever let that happen.”

“You’re right. Just be careful,” Tikki advised.

“Don’t worry, Tikki. Coming up with solutions is my superpower.” She winked as her phone buzzed in her pocket with an akuma alert. “Speaking of, we have a city to save. Tikki, transform me!”

***

“Ladybug!” Alya waved her down after the battle, brandishing her cell phone. “Do you have time for a quick interview?”

“A little,” she said with a shrug. “Make it quick.”

“Okay, okay, many of my viewers want to know what advice you have to help people stay positive to avoid being akumatized,” Alya began, pressing record.

“Well, I would recommend changing your perspective a little. Instead of being bummed out about failing a test, maybe commit to studying harder next time. If you get into a fight with your friends, just take a deep breath and remember that if they’re your real friends, they’ll forgive you.” Ladybug replied, placing her hands on her hips. “And if you do get akumatized, don’t make a big deal out of it. Chat Noir and I will always be there to save you. Negative emotions are a part of life just like positive ones, and everyone can have a bad day, even me.”

“Next question, with the passing of Hero’s Day, my viewers want to know what they can do to help you and Chat Noir.”

“Just do your best every day. Lift each other up instead of tearing each other down and do your best to help others who need it,” she said with a smile.

“My friend Marinette is like that, always helping others and helping us stay positive,” Alya remarked, and Ladybug bit back a smirk.

“I think I’ve met her a few times. She’s alerted me of a few akumas here and there.” She tapped her chin with a coy smile. “Not everyone has superpowers like me and Chat Noir, but there are a lot of ways to help out in your school, in your community, or even in your own home just like your friend. I think that everyone should strive to be a Marinette.”

She pressed a hand to her earrings as they beeped and palmed her yoyo, flashing Alya a peace sign. “Gotta go before I change back.”

“Thank you for your time, Ladybug!” Alya bounced on her heels, clutching her phone to her chest as Ladybug tossed her yoyo over the roof.

“Bug out!”

***

When Lila walked through the doors of the library that afternoon, she stopped short when her eyes locked with Marinette’s sitting at the table with Max. They held that same taunting innocence that made Lila’s blood boil, and she knew this was another one of her “nice” schemes.

“Oh, Lila, there you are,” she greeted with a smile, and Lila did her best to suppress an eye roll. “You haven’t been doing so well in class, so I’ve asked everyone to pitch in helping you catch up. Max is here to help you with your maths and science, Rose has agreed to help you with Literature, Sabrina can help you out with history, and then Nathaniel said he would be more than happy to help you with the art project we have due next week.”

“Oh, that’s not necessary. Adrien agreed to help me,” Lila said, waving it away. “He should be here any minute.”

“Actually, he had a pop-up fencing lesson with Kagami this afternoon. She insisted because her mother is so hard on her to improve her technique, and Adrien is the only opponent who challenges her enough, so he just couldn’t say no,” Marinette explained.

“Adrien does score well across the board on all of his exams; however, his schedule guarantees an 87.96% chance that you won’t get sufficient help in order to pull your grades up in time, so Marinette reached out to the rest of us to step in on his behalf so you don’t fail the semester,” Max stated, and Marinette smiled sweetly beside him.

“As class representative, I’m just looking out for the needs of everyone,” she said, standing up. “Thanks again for your help, Max.”

“No problem, Marinette.” Max waved it away. “Oh, and I will have prototype designs for that software you asked me for later this week.”

“Awesome! You’re the best, Max!” Marinette clasped her hands together cheerfully. “Good luck, Lila, and let me know if you need any more help.”

Lila offered her a forced smile before her face fell into a scowl.

“Have fun at movie night!” Max called, waving as she left.

“Movie night?” Lila quirked a brow.

“Yes, many of our classmates are convening to watch movies at Kim’s house this evening, but seeing as it’s a movie I’ve already seen, I agreed to help you catch up on your studies tonight instead,” Max explained, pulling out his textbooks. “I’ve assembled 100 maths problems for us to work covering each section of material that you missed while you were traveling then I have a PowerPoint reviewing over our particle physics unit from last term-”

Lila glared at the door Marinette had gone through, gripping her pencil with white knuckles. She wasn’t quite sure what game Marinette was playing with her, but she was definitely up to something. No matter, she wasn’t about to be defeated so easily. After all, she had Gabriel Agreste on her side.

***

“How did Lila react to Max?” Adrien asked as Marinette grabbed a juice from the snack table.

“She looked half ready to strangle me,” Marinette replied, popping the tab and taking a sip.

“There isn’t going to be a lot I can do if my father decides to use her in photoshoots again, but I’ll help you in any way that I can outside of that,” he said, grabbing a cookie.

“What are you two whispering about?” Alya asked with a smirk, and they both stiffened.

“Uh, I was just asking Marinette if she wanted to sit with me during the movie,” Adrien said, nudging Marinette with his elbow.

“Y-Yeah, I- of course. You don’t mind, do you, Alya?” Marinette fumbled, and her friend gave a proud beam.

“Not at all. I was actually on my way to tell you that I want to sit with Nino.” She winked.

“Great. Then it’s settled.” Adrien waved as they moved to their bean bags.

“How did she sneak past your father anyway? I thought he was some impenetrable wall?” She asked, and Adrien threw his head back with a sigh.

“Your guess is as good as mine. Is it wrong I kind of wish she’d teach me?” He chuckled, popping a popcorn kernel into his mouth.

“Your dad let you come to this, didn’t he?” Marinette pointed out, but Adrien averted his gaze guiltily.

“I’m technically supposed to be meeting with my Chinese tutor right now, but I may have told him I lost my voice while also telling Gorilla that this was his address,” Adrien admitted, tapping his chin with an impish grin.

“Sneaky,” Marinette complimented, but he curled his shoulders.

“I feel kind of bad disobeying him, but all I want to do is see my friends. What’s so wrong with that?” He shrugged, and Marinette offered him a smile.

“Nothing, and I’m sure your dad will come around eventually,” she said, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Thanks, Marinette. I really hope so.” He smiled weakly, his gaze softening on her. “You really are the kindest girl at school. Lila won’t know what hit her.”

Marinette bit back a smile, cheeks pink and heart pounding.

“Ya know, Adrien, maybe if your dad ever allows it we could-”

“Lila, Max, you made it!” Kim called, and Marinette felt her blood run cold.

“I’m a really fast learner,” Lila said, shooting Marinette a pointed glare, and her jaw clenched as Nathalie entered through the doorway beside her. “Oh, Adrien, I ran into Nathalie on the way over. She was worried about where you were, so I told her we could check here for you.”

“Adrien, you’re supposed to be at Chinese right now,” Nathalie scolded, and Adrien stiffened, face falling. “If you come now, I won’t tell your father about this.”

“Yes, Nathalie,” he said glumly, shooting Marinette an apologetic wince. “I’ll see you at school.”

“I’m sorry, Adrien. I didn’t realize you’d get in trouble.” Lila winced, pressing a hand to her lips in an ‘oops’ manner. “Nathalie said your father was worried.”

“It’s okay, Lila. It’s my fault,” Adrien said as he passed, head hung low as he made his way out with Nathalie.

When the door closed behind them, Lila curled her shoulders and turned to everyone with a pout.

“I’m sorry. I feel like I ruined everything. I didn’t realize that Adrien was here without permission,” she said, covering her face.

“Don’t sweat it, Lila. You didn’t know,” Nino assured her, and she peeked over her hands.

“I hope he doesn’t get into too much trouble,” she fretted, but Nino waved it away.

“Nah, Nathalie totally sticks up for him. If she says she won’t tell, then she won’t,” he said, and Lila relaxed a little.

“That’s a relief,” she sighed.

“Well, since Adrien had to bounce, why don’t you take his seat next to Marinette? You two have been getting along so great lately,” Alya suggested, pointing to the empty beanbag beside Marinette, and Lila flicked her gaze to meet Marinette’s with a grin.

“Do you mind, Marinette?” She asked, a challenging glint in her eye as if to say, ‘your move.’

“Not at all.” Marinette smiled sweetly as Lila paced over to sit down, and her phone buzzed in her pocket with a text from Adrien.

Well, looks like we have our work cut out for us.

Marinette glanced at Lila out of the corner of her eye, chatting with Rose about Kitty Section before typing a quick reply.

So it would seem.

*sigh here we go*

Tagging: @teresarosiadeviluke2112 @sam-spectra @posyfoot @captain-rice @aloeveraspeaks @somethingelsefine @crazylittlemunchkin @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @rlv29 @kaleigh-girlonfire @kokoa-vb @fanwarrior-at-your-service @liebredavinci @starberry-mina @dalandana @rose-sparks13 @foreverblindedbystars @a-6-yearold-inside @redheadeddemon16 @deerestaurelia @graduatedmelon @janaikam @zatanni @shamefulllove @lunar-wolf-warrior @french-dog-joke @magnitude101999 @pinkittwice @musicallylara @summersprit-sims @timelinegodabandoned @patronusxcharms @azureocean33 @zazzlejazzle 

[magic5ball]

Nature Trail to Hell Arc IV: Megamart of Darkness (6)

Chapter 6: Franklin vs. Penn: Ultimate Grudge Match

“I’m sorry,” He said, all polite-and-founding-father like, “but the museum is now closed. Those who do not leave WILL BE EXTERMINATED. As I always say, early to bed, early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy and NOT DEAD! Thank you so much for visiting the Franklin Institute, and please come back tomorrow, when I WON’T KILL YOU!”

           Unfortunately for Silverstein, I’d been in situations like this a thousand times before. See, when you get in trouble, be it trying to flood the house, drawing pictures on the walls, or just plain old putting fireworks in your breakfast cereal, you learn real quick to always have a buddy (or little brother) on standby. Why? Because-

“It was them, Mr. Franklin!” I cried, pointing my index finger. “They started it!”

Then I ran. Always run before they can think long enough to punish you!

There was a loud Pop as Ben Franklin cracked his knuckles.

“A fool and his money are soon parted, as is a certain Quaker and his life if he does not leave now. I once said visitors and fish stink after three days, but you were rotten on arrival, pacifist!”

Penn stamped his foot so hard it cracked the floor, accepting the challenge. “I may not believe in fighting, but soon you shall see why they call us the Quakers, you impoverished d!ck!”

“Uhh… guys? I’m still here.” Said Silverstein, just in time for Penn to kick him into a marble pillar.

“The child is mine to reprimand, you fool!”

“’Tis not!”

“’Tis too!”

“’Tis not!”

           As much as I wanted to hear a riveting philosophical debate between two of PA’s most famous citizens, I wasn’t exactly looking forward to getting crushed by giants, either. Instead I ran. I ran so far away. Now, keep in mind I hadn’t been to the museum since I was five, which made searching out the train an absolute pain. Having two giant men bumbling behind me didn’t exactly help.

All I could think was runrunrunrunrunrunrunrunrunrunrunrunrunrun.

           It should have been easy: all I needed to do was find that stupid train, bring it to life with gold dust, and vamoose! If only I could remember which room the darn thing was in! Instead, I ran through rooms filled with electricity, weather, and ‘shudder’ physics. Sometime along the way, I realized this is where parents put all the boring sciences nobody cared about, locking them away from the rest of the world. This wasn’t a museum, this was a prison. A prison of learning.

           Then there were Ben Franklin and William Penn hot on my tail, reducing rooms to rubble as they went. I had no idea what would happen when all that science got released into the world, but I didn’t want to find out. At least they seemed more interested in each other than me. Until Ben Franklin stuffed Penn’s body up a working Tesla coil, that is. Penn might have recovered, had he been made of something other than bronze. Instead, the room exploded in a burst of electricity, Franklin and I leaping out in the nick of time like a pair of action heroes.

           Of course, without Penn to distract him, I had to contend with Big Ben himself (and Silverstein, whenever the heck he got back in the fight). So now on top of finding Baldwin (seriously, how hard can finding a 400,000 pound choo-choo train possibly be?!) I had the world’s angriest founding father on my tail, spitting maxims at me. Maxims that were also really bad puns about my demise (that I may or may not still sometimes hear in my sleep).

“I once said three can keep a secret if two of them are dead. So far, one down, one to go!”

I slammed my knuckles to my head.

Come on, Watt! Think, thiiinnnnkkkkkk!

I pumped my ten year old legs hard enough to pop my knees off, the air pushing back against me like concrete. There was a flash; the world spun. Then everything was still. Absolutely still.

                                                          .   .   .

           When I opened my eyes, I back at the Franklin Institute. Srta. Now, it was day and there were tons of guests. And in that great thong of guests was none other than five year old me being dragged along his parents. 

Fist, I was right confused about what the hey was going on, when it struck me that just last year I managed to run faster than the speed of light, going back through time. But back then, I’d sprained my ankle so I shouldn’t have been able to go that fast again. This had to be an illusion! Unless...

Unless, being a soul now, my ghost ankle wasn’t sprained, which, combined with my dinosaur feet, had let me run fast enough to break he sound barrier again and go back to the day my parents first took me to this hell of learning! Should I have been worried I wasn’t more shocked? Maybe, but all my mind could think of was how I distinctly remembered seeing a giant train as the last stop on my visit. It took my nerve wracked mind five seconds to churn out a plan. And so began the first (but sadly, not last) time I would find myself stalking somebody.

           Funny about stalking. In the movies they make it look like some daring spy espionage thing while some awesome music plays in the background. Fact is, you spend most of it just sitting around searching for that perfect mix of part of the crowd, but not so much you’ve lost your target, the whole time internally screaming Darn it, kid! Put down the plastic stegosaurus and get a move on to the trains already! (I also felt tempted to tell him throwing Steggy into incoming traffic on the way home was a terrible idea even by 5-year-old standards, but that’s the sort of thing that causes time paradoxes, so I kept my mouth shut.) Seriously, it’s no wonder I didn’t remember squat about the place! And somehow, despite having his face in front of a dinosaur the whole time, little Watt spent hours in front of every exhibit (except the giant human heart, that one sent little me screaming for the exit until Mom convinced him there were no ghosts in there). If it weren’t for Dad grumbling how ‘we should’ve just gone to the dinosaurs like we usually do’ while Mom countered with ‘we need to expand our son’s horizons’, I might have died of boredom for the third time that summer.

           One planetarium show later (which I sat outside for, seeing I didn’t have a ticket) they finally got a move on to the trains, which actually got little me to stop staring at his plastic dinosaur for five seconds. Heck, I found myself gaping at the darn thing (which of course was in an out of the way area most people wouldn’t even notice if it wasn’t on the map.)

           So I knew where the Baldwin was, now I could get going returning to my own time! As if on cue, a loudspeaker screamed

“ATTENTION GUESTS! IN FIVE MINUTES THERE WILL BE A DEMONSTRATION OF OUR TESLA COIL IN THE WONDERS OF ELECTRICITY EXHIBIT!”

           Mom, determined to get little me to see there was more to life than dinosaurs (Mom, I love you, but you’re wrong) immediately started dragging the family over. Naturally, I followed suit, knowing full well how this story ended.

Turned out, there was one other thing that could get little me to take his eyes off his plastic dinosaur for more than five seconds (that wasn’t a giant, fleshy organ in the middle of a museum hall). And that was seeing their future self running into the Tesla coil right as the demonstration began.

Have you ever been barbequed? Roasted so dark your skin feels like lava, then you can’t feel anything at all? Well, jumping into that coil was like that, and more. Only thing I could feel was my brains being spun around like clothes in a washer. All the while, I thought of that stupid giant heart. Whose heart did it even belong to, anyway, and who thought it was a good idea to put it in the middle of a museum hall where all a manner of kids could crawl through it to their heart’s content?

Whose heart was it?

But I already knew the answer, just like I know the history of dinosaurs. With that knowledge, I came up with the perfect plan.

And everything was still, absolutely still.

                                                         .   .   .

           When I got back up, it was nighttime in 2006, angry Ben Franklin and all. Quick on my feet, I ran to where the little kids go to learn how disgusting they are on the inside. Franklin followed close behind, each footstep a five on the Richter scale. If I wanted to pull my plan off, I couldn’t miss a beat. Running was a bit trickier, though: somehow, I’d sprained my ghost ankle from running so fast. Not that I really had time to wonder how that worked. 

Anyway!

           Most kids like theme parks. I was never one of them. You know why? Because of those creepy animal mascots! Just like clowns, there’s something inhuman about them! But at the end of the day, a thousand of those costumed freaks seemed less scary than Big Ben Franklin’s ticker. And this is coming from a guy who literally lived in the Underworld for a few weeks!

           Did you know it glows at night?! It freaking glows at night like some bloody Chinese lantern. While pulsing! It was enough to make me lose my lunch (or Cheetos, in this case) to the point where I wondered if being crushed to death in the marble hands of our first president might not be such a bad thing after all. (He was our first president, right?) But at the end of it all, I flinched. First I was fleeing from death, the next moment I was lodged somewhere in Big Ben’s left ventricle.

“Coward! Come out and face me!” He cried, punching a hole mere inches from my face.

I may or may have not screamed as blood splattered my face. For the next few minutes, it was a fight for survival. Franklin ripped open the heart, trying to grab me, and I didn’t know what would kill me first: Fists, or the guy’s cringy maxims.

“He who would sacrifice his freedom for security deserves neither!”

Punch.

“My energy and persistence will conquer all things-that includes your flimsy little bones!”

Slam!

I would have parried with quips of my own, but really, it’s kinda hard to come up with puns for ‘ventricle’. But in the end, I decided who lived a-or-ta died, so that’s neat.

Sure enough, the more Franklin punched, the more blood spread over his marble face, the slower the heat beat and the weaker he got, over and over and over…

“Nothing is… certain in life… but death and…”

Just like that, Ben Franklin collapsed on the floor. Now it was my turn for a witty one liner.

“Didn’t your mother ever tell you an investment in knowledge pays the best interest? Fun fact about the heart: when it stops beating, you stop living.”

And with that, I went to my way toward the Baldwin, but not before Franklin gave me one last ominous warning.

“He who lives upon hope…”

I didn’t hear the rest because by then, he’d drowned in his own blood.

           So I ran to the best of my memory, diving down that staircase where they keep the pendulum thingy into the space travel exhibit (or as I like to call it: ‘You think it’s gonna be fun, but it’s not’.) And who do I see leaning against a replica lunar module but Smell Silverstein himself, looking mighty proud of himself

“Good evening, Watterson.” He said, all sinister-like. “You probably think you’ve been doing real good, busting up two of Pennsylvania’s most famous figures like that. Too bad, mother*cker! Because I’m Shel mother*ckin’ Silverstein, and now, you will be crushed by the wrath of Apollo, the Living Lunar Module!”

With as much charisma as he could muster, he took some dust from his pocket and splashed it on the space thing.

Nothing happened.

Shel looked at his hands, now a bright orange. “What the Stephen Hellenberg?! This isn’t gold dust, this is CHEESE PUFF DUST!”

           You know that gold dust Silverstein tried to snatch from me earlier? Too bad he didn’t have good night vision (the kind you get from constantly checking for monsters under your bed) otherwise he’d have noticed I’d pulled the ol’ switcheroo on him. 

And I made certain he wouldn’t have time to correct his mistake. 

You ever rammed a guy twice your size before? The key is to catch them by surprise, because even if you’re an eighty pound wimp like yours truly, if the other guy isn’t expecting it, they’ll topple like a domino, bang their head on the leg of a lunar module, and that will be that.

           Of course, I didn’t exactly have time to celebrate my victory. With what little energy I had left, I tottered over to the train exhibit. For a moment I’d expected the worst, but there it was, black, long, and big as a house: the Baldwin 60000, the greatest locomotive ever designed by man. Right where I’d left it. Climbing into the cockpit, I opened the firebox, pouring every last ounce of Penn’s gold dust inside. The whole thing shimmered as streams of gold circled the train, like some kind of magic spell.

“What the f*ck?!”

A deep booming voice erupted from right out of nowhere.

“Where am I? What is this place?! How the hell am I talking?!”

“Hey, relax-“

“And now there’s a voice in my head!”

“Actually, my name’s Watt, and I’m gonna bust you out of here.”

“Well I’m not interested! If you’ll excuse me, I have to go back to being the greatest steam engine in America!”

I slapped my head, finally realizing my Mom put up with this crap every time she put me to bed at night.

“C’mon, Baldwin, I nearly got sent to the Underworld, MULTIPLE TIMES I might add, trying to rescue you!”

“Then if you want a train so badly, go to Rocket over there! He’d probably help you out!”

Rocket was a dinky little rust bucket who probably couldn’t outrun a fourth grader, much less crush a Wegmart Greeter. In fact, I’m still not sure if that thing even qualified as a train.

Fortunately, my Mom put up with this crap every time she put me to bed, so let’s just say I knew a little about getting people to do what you want.

“Fine then,” I said, putting up my hands and making an exasperated sigh. “Guess you won’t have the chance to be famous, then.”

“How?!” The desperation in his voice was palpable.

“Oh, I just wanted you of run over a Wegmart Greeter and help some geese get their nesting grounds back. It would get you in the papers. But I could just go over to Rocket, since you insisted…”

A whistle erupted. “NO! NO! You definitely want me! Ever since I’ve somehow gained a consciousness, all I’ve had the inescapable urge to do something stupid that’ll land me in the papers! I’m a very useful engine, I SWEAR! Please don’t leave meee!”

I crossed my arms and rolled my eyes “Okay, but promise you’ll do everything I say, alright.”

“Yes, yes! Anything for fame!”

Just at that moment, William Penn barged in, creating a giant Quaker shaped hole in the wall. His hair was a bit frazzled, but other than that he looked just as dandy as when I first saw him.

“Halt, Wastrel! In the name of Penn-“

“CHARGE!” I screamed.

With an ear shattering whistle Baldwin rammed forward, shattering Penn’s bronze butt into a million pieces. But we didn’t stop there. No, we kept going through the museum, out the other end, and…

“We’re going to crash into traffic!”

“Don’t worry, kid! You just have to belieeeeevvvveeeee!”

“How is that supposed to-“

“Do you want to ram through a traffic jam or not?!”

So I did. I hugged the firebox, believing we might somehow get away with all this. Gradually, the ground stopped screeching beneath us. When I finally found the courage to look down, we were a hundred feet in the air. I wondered what passersbys would think when they looked up to see a seven hundred thousand pound train making a silhouette as it passed over the moon.

“What the heck is happening?!”

“Magic, kid! The Magic of BELEIVING, MOTHERFORKER!” He tooted his whistle triumphantly “Just don’t stop, or we all fall to our deaths. I’ll even sing a song to help you remember!”

“No that’s-“

“Don’t stop! Beleivviiiinnnngg!”

I screamed all the way back to the pond.

                                                          .   .   .

Just like I promised, Baldwin did get in the papers. Specifically, an article in the National Esquirerer titled

“Lascivious Locomotive Finishes Founding Father! Makes Daring Escape into the Heavens!”

Right beneath an article about one of the most pressing issues of our time:

‘Hannah Montana: the American Beethoven?’

[just-another-wasteland-merc]

Hey guys. I got a message a while ago about getting more into Em’s story, and now that I finally have a little more than a half second to post something, I thought I’d share. This isn’t the happiest of blurbs, but this is important. I love feedback, I love everyone who reads this! Also, sorry that I talk a lot before content, but I like to be more than just a content machine. :D If you want to know, the pair are juuuust starting their friendship, so they don’t know a whole lot about each other in this blurb. At least, not yet. :3

Em sighed as she sat down on the stoop of her old house, plopping her butt down on the cracked concrete. Reaching  behind her head, she took down her bun, letting her hair fall past her shoulders in waves. The breeze played with a few strands. She closed her eyes, letting the sun warm her face, a small smile on her face. 

“Something on your mind?” 

She jumped, her eyes snapping open, resting on MacCready, who had his hands turned up in surrender.

“Whoa,” he said. “Didn’t mean to scare you, promise.”

She watched as he sat next to her, reaching into his duster and pulled out a bottle of beer, holding it out to her. She eyed him, but took it, flipping off the cap and taking a swig.

“How many pockets do you have in there?” she asked playfully.

He smirked. “Enough to hold a couple bottles if needed,” he replied, sipping at his own beer. “Got a few minutes?”

“We’re stuck here for a while, Mac. Whatcha got?”

“Well… I don’t know much about you, boss.”

She gave a laugh. “You don’t have to call me that, remember?”

“Sorry, Em. Do you have any stories? Like about when you were in Anchorage? You must have seen something.”

She took a swig, thinking. Her head dipped a little, letting her hair form a wall between them.

“Hey,” he said softly, moving her hair back over her shoulder. “You don’t have to if-”

“You asked, Mac. I’ll answer.”

He fell quiet. She collected her thoughts, sighed one more time, then looked at him from the corner of her eye.

“There was one… he was probably seventeen or so. Barely there for more than a few weeks, but he was one of the more ‘excited’ ones. The kid.. God, he was a sweetheart. He knew that it was dangerous, but he signed up willingly to protect his family from afar. Talked about them a lot, invited his squad over to his place for a celebration when we won the war. Future plans, you know?”

He nodded, but she didn’t see. She stared straight ahead.

“We were sent to clear a building that the Chinese had taken over. We had to take it back, mostly because of the AA guns that were there. He went first, then one other, then me. It was going fine, until the kid stepped on a mine. He jumped back, but not far enough and not quick enough. Blew him open. The shrapnel had sliced him nearly to shreds.”

MacCready winced, trying not to watch her. His eyes betrayed him more than once, landing on her face as her eyes went distant.

“There…. There wasn’t anything I could do. The damage wasn’t anything I could repair with the supplies I had. I basically held his hand, letting him know it was okay. He fought it for a while, but I told him it was just like going to sleep.” She wiped under her eye and sniffed. “His buddy was there with us the whole time. Kept telling the kid it was going to be okay, nothing was going to happen to him anymore, and he was going home. He smiled a little, and told us ‘tell my mom not to cry. I don’t want her to cry for me.’ Then he just...closed his eyes.”

They were quiet for a while, silent tears falling from her eyes. He took her beer from her hand, setting it down next to him and pulled her to him.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean..”

She sniffed, shaking her head. “It’s okay.” 

After another bout of silence, she pulled away, wiping her eyes. “There was one other that sticks out,” she said. “My best friend then. She…”

“You don’t have to talk about it, Em. Not if you don’t want to.”

“No, Mac. It’s important. It.. It might help you understand.”

He nodded, pushing more of her hair over her shoulder.

“Her name was Cass. She was our squad’s comm specialist. All things communications, repairing radios, or even tech that was fried, she fixed it. She taught me a few things to repair, improve, all that.”

He looked down, surprised, as something grabbed his hand. It was hers. Her grip on him almost hurt with how hard she was holding it. He stayed quiet. 

“We took a break one night, heading out for some air. We knew the rules: never go anywhere alone, even to the bathroom. Cass was my buddy anyway, since we were the only two girls in the squad. We headed out, cause she needed a smoke. We took off our helmets to sit on them so our asses wouldn’t get full of snow. She sat down and…”

With her other hand, she held up a finger gun and pulled it back, firing it.

“Bam. Gone.”

“A sniper?” Mac asked. She nodded.

“We figured he was over on the opposite ridge. Never found them.”

She sighed. “I dragged her back where we were holed up. I don’t remember much after that.”

She was quiet for a moment. “I felt numb. It didn’t really register that she was gone until we got her back to our FOB so she could be accounted for and sent home.”

“I’m so sorry,” he said quietly. His hand rested on her back, surprising both of them. What was he doing? He didn’t usually comfort others, this was a first in a while for him. She was surprised to be receiving such contact. She mentally shrugged it off.

“I don’t know if I can say if it’s okay or not,” she confessed. “I don’t think it’s okay.”

“It might not seem like it right now,” he murmured, “but it will be. Eventually.”

“How do you know?” she asked as she drew her knees up to her chest, letting go of his hand as she hugged her legs while resting her chin on her knees.

“I’ve seen things too.” He watched her as she looked at him. “It doesn’t get better sometimes, but it’ll eventually get easier.”

“Is it okay for you?”

He gave her a small, sad smile. “Not yet, Em.” He rested his arm around her. She picked her head up and rested it on his shoulder. She scooted closer to him. When he spoke again, he was so quiet she almost missed it.

“But it will be.”

[formerprincess]

A tale written with fangs and claws || Chapter 52

Chapters: 52/? Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Liam Dunbar/Theo Raeken, Corey Bryant/Mason Hewitt Characters: Liam Dunbar, Theo Raeken, Mason Hewitt, Corey Bryant, Nolan (Teen Wolf) Additional Tags: Alpha Liam Dunbar, Slow Build, Friends to Lovers, Dunbar Pack, Bisexual Liam Dunbar, Werewolf Theo Raeken, Alpha Theo Raeken, Canon-Typical Violence, Smut, Mates, Liam and Theo are mates, Top Theo Raeken, Bottom Theo Raeken, Top Liam, Bottom Liam Dunbar Series: Part 1 of Morning Dew Pack

Isaac takes the pack in and they all have to adjust to not having a home anymore. Money is a big, big problem and nothing seems to go right for the pack. Liam is struggling as well under all the pressure. Will the pack overcome this?

Isaac had been a literal savior to the pack when he offered to take them in and give them a roof over their heads for a while. It saved them the experience of living in the streets and they were grateful for Isaac being the amazing friend that he was. His apartment was beautiful with black wooden floors and white walls, large windows to overlook the city and also a large balcony, an expansive open kitchen leading into the living room area with flat screen and three couches. Isaac’s room, his office, and the room Nolan had used once were on the opposite end of the apartment alongside a spacious bathroom adjoining Isaac’s bedroom and a smaller bathroom for the guests. It was elegant and beautiful.

But with the whole pack cramming into it, the usual so wide apartment became crowded and figuring out the sleeping arrangements were a horror.  “I still have my dorm room. Ever can sleep there too; my roommate's girlfriend has her own apartment and he’s always there. Even some of the others can stay at mine’s as well, he won’t mind,” Caden threw in.  Liam grimaced. “This is nice but I rather not have the pack split up. The hyenas could use it and attack, we have no idea what their next step will be.” “I understand your hesitation, Liam, but look around. This place is bursting at the seems. The second bedroom is filled with air mattresses where the boys and the girls sleep, you and Theo sleep on one couch in the living room, Mason and Corey on the other. Having at least some people gone will give all of us more space.” Liam could not argue against that. There were too many people to make it work without someone stepping on someone else’s toes and so he groaned but nodded. “Fine but you’re not going alone. Tim, Mike, you’re staying with them. If you see anything suspicious, you alert us immediately.”  They nodded. “Will do.” Liam glanced at the girls trying to blow up the mattresses and he groaned again. “This is horrible.” “But we have a roof over our head at least,” Theo chimed in.  Liam gave him a tired look. In their current situation, this probably was the only good thing. 

****** The pack’s mood was bad and didn’t change in the next days. Nobody could blame them, they had lost their home and many things they held dear. Thankfully they had grabbed their favorite and most meaningful things before the house exploded and had also managed to save most of the pictures. Liam still had the book Theo made for him and the pictures of his grandfather, Theo still had his letters from Liam, etc... But even those things didn’t console the pack over the loss of their home. It had been such a deep cut in their lives, they all lost the ground beneath their feet and struggled. 

At this point, they all needed some good news but life seemed to be out to get them and threw stones in their way. Mike rushed into Isaac’s apartment one day, cheeks flushed with anger, and hair disheveled from grabbing it and running his hands through it in frustration.  “My parents froze my bank account! I cannot access any of their money.”  “What?” Theo looked up from his homework and frowned. That was a shocker.  “They do this from time to time to remind me who calls the shots. The only money I have left is the one I made with my jobs. Thankfully I opened another bank account where I had this money transferred to and my parents know nothing about. But that means I cannot buy another house for us and the insurance for the old house is lost as well. Sorry, guys.” He looked apologetically at his friends.  “It’s not your job to buy us a new place to live. You’ve done it the first time and it was wonderful but now we have to think of something else,” Liam chimed in. Mike looked at the Alpha and Liam gave him a comforting smile. “We’ll figure it out.” He really had no idea how but they had to think of something. After living together for several months and sharing such close pack bonds, parting ways and not living together just didn’t feel right.  “I really appreciate you trying to lift my spirits up but I’m actually good at math and our money is tight at the moment. No way we have enough to pay for a place for all of us.” Mike shook his head. 

Liam sighed. His Beta was right. Theo and Brett were the only ones working on a regular basis, Brett even working fulltime, all the others either had no job at all or only every now and then. But even Brett and Theo could not monetarily carry the whole pack. Money was a problem. A big problem Liam worried about big time. It gave him flashbacks to the time he and his mother had been on their own after his parents divorced. Emmet had not paid one cent and money had been tight for mother and son. They had lived in a hole in the wall apartment, tiny and above a Chinese restaurant, and his mother had worked two jobs to put food on their table at least. He remembered how exhausted she had been and how he learned to take care of the things in the household so she had one less thing to worry about. Mason’s mom had been a great help when she invited Liam to stay over for dinner and even gave Mason one more sandwich to bring to school for his best friend. She also had helped when Liam wanted to learn how to cook so his mom knew her son ate as good as he could to his abilities.  Yes, Liam remembered how being poor felt like, how it felt when you had to pinch pennies, and he had hoped to never experience this again. And here he was, Alpha of a homeless pack. It got to him on a deep level and he didn’t sleep well during the nights, but he refused to tell his Betas. They all worried anyway, no need to add to this. Now he understood what his mom went through back in the days. “I’m looking for a job,” he announced to his Betas. Next to college and lacrosse he wouldn’t make much but it was better than nothing.  “I think we all are, at this point,” Corey smiled tentatively at Liam. “We will make it work.”

They had to but there were so many things they needed to take care of. 

The only good thing at living with Isaac was that they didn’t have to pay for food. Liam had offered it once and Isaac had scoffed.  “Yeah, right, keep your money to yourself. You need this way more than me. Stop offering it! I won’t take it. I know a thing or two about not having a real home for a while, you know?” 

Isaac had a weekly delivery where his groceries were distributed to his flat. Liam had noticed that the amount of food delivered was enough so they all could eat and he had a sneaking suspicion Isaac had upped the mass he usually ordered. When he asked the older about it, however, Isaac acted innocently.  “What are you even talking about, that’s the amount I always get,” he said and kept his eyes on his screen. “Uh uh, enough to feed a whole pack of werewolves.” “I am a werewolf myself, I don’t like starving. What’s with this interrogation?” He typed on his laptop and Liam would have believed him if he didn’t saw the corners of Isaac’s mouth flinch. Yet he decided to not offer to pay for the food.  “Thanks for being such a great friend, Isaac.” “Don’t get soft on me, Dunbar. I’m just hosting you, nothing else. It’s nice to have company.” Liam just shook his head with a soft smile and then left Isaac’s office to let him continue doing his work. 

****** Nolan sat cross-legged on one of the sofas and held his cellphone in front of his mouth. He talked or rather argued with his mother about their current house situation.  “Mom, can’t you even try to understand??” He whined.  “No, I do not understand! I get it was nice for all of you to live together in this big house and it was nice of your friend Mike to buy it for you but I was never really a fan of this, to be honest. And now the house is gone, that’s unfortunate and I get you are sad, but you kids are being ridiculous!” Emma Holloway scolded.  “Mom!” Nolan hissed. His pack was around and they all heard what his mother was saying. “This is not about how you feel or what you liked or not. It’s gone anyways and now we have to find another place to live for all of us.” “You don’t have to, that’s my point! It was nice while it lasted but now you all can go and request a dorm room. You might not live together but it is the smartest move. Stop being so set on living together, that’s utopistic. You are college students, you should live like college students. In the dorm. With other people. Maybe you will make new friends. And if you have found a job and saved enough money, you can move into a nice little apartment with maybe one or two of your friends. You don’t have to live together. Stop telling yourself that!” “I can’t talk when you don’t accept what I’m saying!” Nolan hissed and ended the call. He dropped his phone on the couch and leaned against the headrest. He groaned. “Arrgh!”

“Mothers, huh?” Mason tried lightheartedly to dissolve some of the tension.  “I don’ get her. Why doesn’t she just accept we want to live together? Shouldn’t she be happy as a mother I found such great friends? I don’t want to live in a dorm room with a stranger, I want to live with my pack.” “For a mother who has no idea about the supernatural and just sees her son and his friends living together, it is probably hard to understand why it’s such a big deal,” Isaac calmly offered an explanation from his place at the dining table. Nolan twisted in his seat to able to look at him. “Are you for real?” “Yeah. I mean, you never told your mom you’re a hunter for a pack of werewolves, right? To her, you’re just a bunch of kids and that one rich friend bought a house for all of you to live together. Now some rowdies trashed the house and you can’t live together anymore. She doesn’t see the big deal behind it. Can’t really hold it against her.” “Huh,” Nolan huffed, “I’ve never seen it that way.” “I could tell,” Isaac replied with a smirk and Nolan rolled his eyes. “I still don’t like her saying we all should move to the dorms again. I want to stay with my pack!” “I get you but at this point, we probably don’t have another option,” Liam muttered darkly. “Also the cheapest option.” “Money is really an issue right now, what?” Nolan asked hesitantly. Liam bit his lip but then nodded. “As much as I hate to admit, yeah. When Theo and I moved here we both got jobs to have some money for our apartment. I’m currently unemployed and even if I manage to find a job, I won’t make nearly enough to buy a house for everyone. None of us will make that much money, not even all of us together. Aside from that, getting a job seems highly difficult at the moment, I don’t know why. Every job offer I see somebody else either gets the job or they don’t want a college student. It is frustrating and even with our parents' financial help, we’re having a dry streak.” Nolan made a concerned face. “Oh.”

Money was an issue. There was no use in lying about it or trying to sugarcoat it. That was their main problem. No money meant no new home, meant still being homeless. As much as Isaac told them they could stay as long as they needed, Liam knew the crowded living situation was not benefiting anyone. None of them had a place to be alone at home, none of them could fully rest and recharge their batteries. The mood was bad, as a result, there was barely laughter and they all felt lost and desperate. Liam worried about his pack and he tried to be strong for all of them. He was the leader, the shoulder to cry on, that’s what he was supposed to do. And he tried to take care of his friends. But even he could not prevent bad things happening to them.

Next one to fall victim to life’s fucked up ways was Theo. Since their house exploded, the First Beta had doubled his shifts in the coffee shop and only rested when Liam more or less forced him to do it. He also worked night shifts and the young Alpha seriously wondered where Theo got the energy from to pull this off and still attend his classes, even hold a high GPA. It was impressive and in Liam’s eyes, Theo deserved an award for that alone. He also deserved an award for putting up with his demanding boss. That lady has no ounce of empathy or pity in her body and was a literal slave driver. It only took Theo’s reminder of how much he needed the job for Liam not to storm in and yell at her. But he saw the toll it took on Theo. Hard work his mate could handle, sleeping on a couch and the pile of the workload from his classes were child’s play, but having a boss who screamed at her employees and especially at Theo for being anything but heterosexual was too much. Theo was no stranger to people hating him and taking jabs at him but since she was not able to separate his personality from his work, everything he did was critiqued and wrong. And that was hard to handle for the usually so confident ex-chimera. It went so far, Theo asked Liam not to come to the coffee shop when he was working to not give his boss yet another reason to hate on him. It hurt Liam but for his mate’s sake, he complied and Theo went on with taking the bullying.

Until one day he broke down.

It was late and his original shift had ended long ago but Liam knew his boyfriend took the extra hours to make more money. He expected Theo to come home, completely tired and emotionally drained and was prepared to hug him and pepper him with kisses, tell him how much he loved the older and how proud he was of him, but he wasn’t prepared for the twenty-two-year-old to stumble into the apartment, distressed and shaking like a leaf. “Hey, what’s wrong?” Liam asked worriedly and got up from his place at the table where he attempted to finish his last assignment for tonight. Theo shook his head and blinked against the tears. Seeing the usually so composed wolf completely broken down made Liam worry even more. “Theo, what happened? Talk to me!” “I need to quit. I…I can’t do this anymore.  She’s so hateful and she loves to humiliate me in front of everyone. I…Please, Liam, let me quit! I will find another job and get us money but I can’t work there anymore.” It shook Liam to the core. Theo put so much more thought in this than Liam had expected. He knew Theo thought a lot but he had severely underestimated the pressure his mate put on his own shoulders. He now wrapped his arms around Theo and the older clung to him while hiding his face in the crook of Liam’s neck. “It’s okay. I got you. I got you,” Liam murmured over and over again and stroked through Theo’s hair and over his back. “I’ll get another job soon, I promise. I will help you with the financial situation. But I can’t work under this woman any longer.” “Shh, it’s alright. Nothing’s more important than your mental health. We will find a way to make it work. You’ll quit and we will see about anything else soon.” He hugged Theo tighter and tilted his head to kiss his mate’s temple. “I promise we’ll get through this,” he whispered and Theo nodded hesitantly. “I will help you get money,” he vowed. Liam sighed. “I know. But don’t put so much pressure on yourself, okay?” “’kay.”

****** I will help you. Liam had known Theo was serious when he said that. He just didn’t comprehend the lengths Theo would go to fulfill that promise.   “You did what now?” He asked his boyfriend a few days later and gave the older a baffled look after hearing Theo’s latest declaration. “I sold my truck. It’s not the newest model but I took good care of it and got a decent price,” Theo explained again and waved the dollar bills he got after the sale in front of Liam’s face. “Why?” Seriously, what else was Liam supposed to say? “Because having two cars is silly. Your car – with all the respect – is too old to make a decent price and like I said my truck was in great condition. Selling it was only logical. It got us some more money.” “But you love that truck.” Liam felt like crying. He knew what that car meant to Theo. “It’s nothing compared to my pack and having money.” He got an impatient look on his face and waved the bills again. “You could say thank you, you know?” “You…Thank you.” Liam would have loved to tell Theo how much of an idiot he had been to sacrifice his truck, a place that had been his home for a while, but he decided to not fight his boyfriend on that. Theo gave a curt nod and stuffed the money in the jar Maya had established a few nights ago. In there came all the savings the pack could make for a new house. Needless to say, the jar was still almost empty. It was depressing and so Sadie had painted some flowers and suns on the glass to make it a bit more appealing.

****** Now, despite how sad their life currently was, there were some minor nice things. Lacrosse for example. The team had picked up some momentum and they worked together better than ever before. Liam was even sure they could score a win in the upcoming game. “You really think we can beat them?” Sadie asked when she and Liam talked about it one afternoon. “I sure hope so. Lacrosse is currently the only good thing in my life, a win would be very nice.” Theo raised his head. “Lacrosse is the only good thing in your life?” Liam gave him a funny look. “I just said that. What? It’s true?” The First Beta raised an eyebrow. “Because being in a relationship with me is not a good thing you have in your life. Totally. Can relate.” “Huh?” You could say Liam was dumb but he had absolutely no idea what Theo was getting at. “You can’t compare those things. What’s your problem right now?” “Oh, I can’t? Lacrosse seems to be the only thing right now that makes you happy. I’m clearly doing something wrong then. Why don’t you tell me what it is? I’d rather have you flat out tell me what’s wrong than saying such bullshit.” Liam barked out a laugh. That was downright ridiculous. “Theo, I really don’t know what your problem is right now. I wasn’t passive-aggressive or something and I didn’t critique you or our relationship. I am happy with you. You know that.” “Could have fooled me. And I’m not so sure you’re happy. Could express it a bit more often.” Okay, that hit a nerve. Liam took a lot of things and he really worked on his anger but Theo claiming Liam was not showing how happy their relationship made him was a no-no. His anger spiked. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” “I don’t think our relationship is a laughing matter.” Theo’s facial expression was calculating. “Do you?” “Stop being so goddamn arrogant!” “Call me arrogant all the way you want. At least, I’m honest.” “Oh and I’m not?” Liam was getting angry. Nobody was better at getting under his skin than Theo. “You really want to call me a liar?” “Well, there’s clearly something wrong and when you’re hiding it…” Theo trailed off and Liam gritted his teeth. That man was infuriating! “I am not hiding anything! You’re just making a fuss over nothing. Yes, I said lacrosse’s the best thing in my life right now. You know damn well I don’t see you as a thing. If that’s your problem, I can’t help you. You’re not a thing, Theodore!” “Of course I’m the one with the problem! You mighty Alpha do everything right, what? You’re never doing anything wrong. Glad to finally know how you really think!” “Stop twisting my every word! I didn’t say that, didn’t mean that, and you know I didn’t. You just want to fight right now and I’m not here for it!” “Funny, usually you’re the one who wants to fight all the time. How does it feel to sit on the other side of the table?” “Oh my god!” Liam jumped from the couch he had been sitting on. Sadie squeaked and then pressed both hands in front of her mouth. She, just like everyone else in the apartment, stared at the fighting Alpha Couple. They had their fair share of fights but this one was one of the worst they ever had. “I can’t talk to you when you are like that.  You just want to hurt me right now and I’m not staying to give you any more opportunity to do that. I am not your punching bag! Fuck you!” He yelled at Theo. Not waiting for his boyfriend to respond Liam stormed to the apartment door, grabbed his car keys from the sideboard there and yanked the door open. Mason called after him but Liam ignored his best friend in favor of rushing down the stairs and over to his car. He needed to get away for a while because right now he was angry and sad (so much for only feeling one emotion at a time, Theodore!) and he didn’t want to hurt anyone. It was better to pull himself out of the situation. He didn’t know where he was going when he no pulled out of the parking lot and drove down the street but Liam didn’t care at the moment. His phone rang but Liam ignored it. Right now, he didn’t want to talk.

He drove around aimlessly for a while and then just stopped in an empty parking lot. It was slowly starting to get dark and Liam had not paid attention to the road and therefore had no idea which part of town he currently was in. Not that this was anywhere near important right now. Even an empty parking lot was better than being at the apartment and fighting with Theo. Yet sitting in a lonely car and stare out into an empty parking lot made Liam realize what went down. He leaned his forehead against the steering wheel. “Fuck!” He cursed loudly. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” This was a complete disaster, more than their current situation already had been. Fighting with Theo was nothing Liam was new to but this time had been especially bad. It was rare one of them left the house during a fight, they mostly just left the room. Now Liam had run away and he was sure he fucked up even more than already. He was good at that, making a bad situation even worse. Kind of questionable talent. Liam crossed his arms on top of the steering wheel and buried his face in them and then he suddenly broke down. Had he tried to be the rock for his Betas and hold the tears in after they lost their home, he couldn’t help himself right now. The floodgates opened and it took Liam several long moments to compose himself. His body shook violently under the heavy sobs and arms were soon wet with tears. His mother used to say crying was leaning the soul and if that was true, Liam’s soul was clean as freshly fallen snow after that.

When he finally managed to compose himself, Liam felt drained and cold. An empty parking lot might be nice for some occasions but right now it only underlined how lonely Liam felt. He missed Theo and he missed how it had been before. The pack dynamic had changed since the hyenas attacked and the couple felt it too. But that didn’t mean he was not happy with Theo. Heck, Theo was probably the reason Liam could still carry on. His boyfriend gave him so much strength and confidence and he was always there when Liam needed him. He blew up so much probably because hearing he didn’t show Theo enough how happy he was, was just unfair. He still didn’t understand what Theo had been angry at. Too tired to even fathom driving back home, Liam crawled into the backseat of his car after he locked it. The street lamp on the parking lot cast a dim glance and in the back, Liam found a light blue hoodie. Theo’s hoodie. He had worn it the other day when it rained in the morning and had shed it during the day to only wear the shirt underneath. Now Liam used it as a makeshift pillow and he inhaled his mate’s scent. “You are a fucking idiot. The biggest idiot I ever met. You’re lucky you’re so gorgeous and I’m in love with you, idiot,” he told the hoodie and closed his eyes.

****** Liam was woken up by the loud horn of a truck passing by. He sat up and it took a moment for him to remember where he was and why he was there. When he remembered the fight and him sleeping in his car, he moaned and rolled his neck to get rid of any stiffness from the night. Looking at his watch Liam noticed it had stopped working and he groaned in displease before he tugged his phone from his pocket. He had a missed call from Mason and several messages which he opened swiftly.

From Mason [7:35 pm] Please drive carefully. I know you’re mad as hell but please, be careful. We all need you.

From Mason [8:22 pm] I just hope you not answering doesn’t mean you were in an accident. Theo would feel this, right? So I guess you’re alright since he’s still ranting about you being unreasonable. If you read this, give me sign you’re okay.

From Theo [8:30 pm] I don’t know how long you planned on driving around but I would prefer if you came home and we could talk.

That message made Liam bite his lip when his anger boiled up again. Why did Theo have to be so freaking stubborn and proud? Did he really expect Liam to come crawling back?

He almost deleted the remaining messages but then decided to be the bigger person and read on.

From Theo [8:49 pm] You’ve never been gone MIA for so long after a fight.

From Theo [8:52 pm] Are you really giving me the silent treatment?

From Theo [9:05 pm] Can you at least let me know you’re safe? Or let Mason know. Anyone of us so we know you’re not hurt.

From Theo [9:15 pm] I can’t feel you through our bond, it’s blocked. But I would feel if you’re injured, right?

From Theo [10:03 pm] Corey told me to stop texting you and give you a chance to calm down. You never not came home after a fight. I don’t know what to do.

From Theo [10:40 pm] What I said was out of line. I was an asshole.

From Theo [11:58 pm] Liam, I am sorry.

From Theo [1:15 am] Please, come home.

From Theo [2:00 am] If you don’t want me around when you come home, I understand that. But please come home for the Betas.

From Theo [2:02 am] I’m going out of my mind here. You might not want to see me but come home.

From Theo [2:02 am] Liam, please.

All those messages made Liam’s throat feel clogged up and he could barely swallow. His vision blurred when new tears welled up in his eyes but Liam wiped them away. Enough crying, now it was time to go home and tell the idiot no matter how angry he was at him he would never send him away. He climbed back into the driver’s seat and turned the key in the ignition.

The drive back home was tricky since Liam had not paid attention where he landed last night and now needed to find his way until he was in a familiar area. When he managed, however, the ride was short and he soon stepped into Isaac’s apartment. Mason just excited the guestroom and breathed out a sigh of relief. “Thank god, you’re okay!” He embraced Liam tightly. “I was worried, Lee.” “I’m sorry. I just needed cool off time.” Liam patted Mason’s back. “Where did you stay the night?” Mason questioned after the friends broke their embrace. “I slept in my car.” “Jesus, Liam, just because Theo’s your mate doesn’t mean you have to make the same experiences as he did.” “I know, I know.” Liam nodded tiredly. “Speaking off: Where’s my beloved idiot?” “On the balcony with Corey and Isaac.” Mason gave Liam’s upper arm a supportive squeeze and then let Liam walk towards the open balcony door. When he stepped closer, Liam heard the three men talk.

“So you do realize how much of an ass you have been?” Corey, classic to the point. Theo sighed. “Look, I don’t need you as my personal Jiminy Cricket. I know I fucked up.” “Yeah, you did,” Liam agreed and stepped out of the apartment. Theo sat on the wooden bench Isaac had placed there, Corey stood in front of him and looked like a stern parent with his arms crossed in front of his chest and the frown on his face, Isaac leaned against the banister. But when Liam arrived, he and Corey soon left the couple and slipped in the apartment to give them room to sort everything out. Theo stared at Liam, obviously caught off guard by Liam suddenly being home again. “Liam…” “No. You sit and you let me talk first. Then you can say something,” Liam ordered. Theo closed his mouth and nodded.

And Liam sighed. He pushed his hands in the pockets of his jeans because he didn’t know what else to do with them. “Telling someone You are the best thing ever happened to me is a figure of speech. You don’t really see them as a thing. I don’t see you as a thing. But when I talked about lacrosse, I was actually talking about things. Theo, you are the best aspect of my life. Yes, life’s cruel at the moment but it would be even crueler if I didn’t have you. You make me happy, you give me the strength to carry on. I wouldn’t know what to do without you. It never occurred to me you might feel attacked by me talking about things, literal things. I still don’t understand how you could get so pissed at that.” Theo opened his mouth again and Liam gave a curt nod to show he was finished for now and Theo could reply. “I was angry. I’m still angry. At the hyenas, the whole situation. I needed an outlet for that and picked a petty fight.” “And you chose me to fight with? Or as a punching bag for your anger? That is not a good thing, Theo!” Liam’s emotions got the best of him again and he tried to control them all. “Liam, I am an asshole. I tear down good things. You know that.” “No!” Liam pointed at Theo. “This doesn’t get to be your excuse this time! You are not that bad person anymore and you build up so much in the last couple of years. You’re not tearing down anymore so don’t you dare hide behind this excuse!” They looked at each other and none of them was able to hide the whirlwind of emotions raging inside them. Anger, sadness, rage, fear, all the emotions up and down. Finally, Theo shrugged sadly. “Want me to go? I can pack my bags and leave asap.” “No, you fucking idiot! I do not want you to leave!! I want you to stay right where you are because you don’t get rid of me that easily! We both made a commitment back then on your birthday and we are in for the long run. Forever is not just a phrase, Theo Raeken! You are the love of my fucking life! I will grow old with you, so help me god!” Liam had gotten more and more worked up the longer he talked and in the end, he almost yelled at Theo. The silence stretched between the two men after Liam had finished and finally Theo cleared his throat. “That was the most threatening declaration of love I’ve ever heard,” he confessed sheepishly. Liam squinted his eyes and glared at him. “Yeah, it was. Maybe that did get through to you. I don’t want you to leave, no matter how badly we fight.”  He nodded to confirm his words in front of Theo and in front of himself and then, since he made himself clear and saw no use in further discussing this, brushed past Theo intending to step back into the apartment. A hand closed around his wrist. “Liam,” Theo began softly and the young Alpha stopped walking. His boyfriend gently tugged at his wrist when Liam didn’t turn to face him on his own and only then Liam turned around. Theo sighed. “I am sorry.” The look he gave Liam was a perfect impression of a sad puppy and you would have to need a heart of stone to not melt at that. The insecurity was still eminent in Theo’s eyes, his abandonment issues acting up once again, and Liam huffed out a breath. “You’re an idiot,” he declared and raised his hand to stroke through his boyfriend’s hair. “But you’re my idiot so I’m never letting you go.” He pulled Theo in a tight hug, arms securely wrapped around the older man’s frame. “Mine,” he muttered. In an instant, Theo’s arm wound around Liam’s waist and pressed him closer. “I am really sorry. I love you,” he whispered. “I know you are. I love you too, that’s why our fights have such an impact. Because we care so deeply about each other.” Liam pulled back but only enough to press a kiss on Theo’s lips. Theo’s lips twitched and then his hand was in Liam’s hair and he deepened the kiss. “Guys, dad and papa made up. Everything’s fine again!” Mike yelled from somewhere inside the apartment. Theo snorted and Liam grinned and they both broke the kiss because they were laughing.

****** “What in the name of Gordon Ramsay is that?” Isaac stared at the gray mass on his plate. “It’s a burger.” Theo rolled his eyes. “Stop being so picky, Zac!” “That is not a burger. Burger patties are not gray.” Isaac poked it with his fork and scrunched his nose when the burger bun almost fell apart. Liam could really not blame him, the food looked disgusting. The fries Theo dished with the burgers were coated with grease and he worried about the humans in the pack. They probably would get an instant heart attack if they ate them. The tomatoes and the cucumbers on the patties tasted like rubber and had the consistency of a noodle. “Okay, it’s not that good but it’s eatable. The diner where this comes from has patrons coming there every day, it can’t be that bad. You’re just used to fine dining and baguettes.” “Oh, another French joke, talked to Stiles lately?” Lori snickered into her water at Isaac’s remark and he gave her an amused look. Theo huffed. “The food will get better once I start working there, I think.” “Start working where?” Liam questioned with a cough. Not only were the fries greasy but they were salty as hell. “At this Diner.” Theo raised the plastic bag he used to carry the food home. Al’s Diner, read the bag in bold blue letters. “You work at a Diner? Since when? Why is it easier for you to find a job than for me?” “Because I’m not as picky as you are, honey.” Theo’s response got him a raised eyebrow from Liam and he smirked at the young Alpha. Then he proceeded to tell them the address of his soon-to-be workplace but Liam could not place it. He never heard of it before. “They were looking for a server and sometimes help in the kitchen. It’s not the best-paid job in the whole wide world but it’s something,” Theo finished his little report. Liam had to agree with that. Every job, as long as it was legal, was good, that’s how his mother raised him.

****** It not being the best-paid job in the world was literally the most positive thing you could say about the Diner. Liam and Corey had decided to go and check out Theo’s new workplace a few days after the announcement from the Beta. The other pack members still had classes and when Corey innocently offered it, Liam immediately agreed. He had been happy for Theo yet when they reached the area the Diner was located in, his stomach twisted in knots. Because this area was shabby. It could work perfectly for a movie in a criminal and dirty neighborhood. Upon arrival, they heard police sirens in the distance, three homeless people wandered the streets, right in front of the Diner stood a car with broken windows, some other people gave Liam and Corey dirty looks when they passed by. The Diner itself had its name in neon lights on the roof but several lights were broken. The windows looked dirty and as much as Liam didn’t want to have prejudices, he strongly suspected to meet cockroaches when he stepped in. “Theo didn’t lie when he said he’s not picky when it comes to work,” Corey stated and then glanced at Liam when he got no answer. “Oh boy, you face says it all.” Liam was probably gaping. He was just speechless. “Is he…Corey, tell me your best friend is not serious!” “Hey, you are in a relationship with him, you should know. I surely hope it is a joke. This is not something he should want to work in. Compared to that, the Diner in 2 Broke Girls is a five-star restaurant. You have to hand it to Theo, if he’s looking for a job, he’s looking everywhere.” Liam grimaced. That was a problem. He knew Theo could not get sick from a dirty workplace (he had to check in with Deaton to make sure) but he worried about the area. It was the one in Seattle with the highest crime rates, gangs were a thing here, just like drug trades, car theft, robberies. It wasn’t an area he wanted Theo to be in. He had a strong suspicion, however, Theo would not appreciate Liam butting in.

True to his suspicion, Theo didn’t take it kindly when Liam breached the subject later on. “What is your problem with it? I can take care of myself.” “There are people shooting each other!” Liam argued back. Theo shrugged. “I’ll heal.” “I know you will but that doesn’t mean you actively have to search out streets where you can get shot. I’m sure I can survive falling out of a window on the first floor, doesn’t mean I have to try it.” “You are being melodramatic, Lee.” “I am worried about you!” Liam slammed the knife he had used to cut cucumbers on the counter. Tim reached out and gently pulled the knife from his grip, for obvious safety reasons. “And I don’t see why. Just because this quarter is on the poor side and maybe has some criminal problems doesn’t mean it can’t be good.” “Do you have a death wish?” Brett inquired and stole one slice of cucumber. Liam swatted his hand away. “This is insane, Theo, you’re not working there.” “Liam, with all the love and respect that is not something you can command. You stated your opinion but a job is a job and I will not quit immediately after accepting the offer.” Liam’s eye twitched. “No, you have to quit.” “You’re being unreasonable. Maybe the part of town is sketchy but Theo is a big boy and he can take care of himself,” Mike backed Theo up. He then had the decency to at least shrink in his seat when Liam glared at him. “I’m on Liam’s side. You should not work there,” Corey declared. He sat perched on the counter and had watched the argument take place in front of him until now. Theo gave him an offended look. “Et tu, Corey?” “I’m just as worried about you as Liam. We heal but we are not superhuman. Even we can get hurt or killed by something else than wolfsbane and mountain ash.” “I think you two are just picky. Where is your sense of adventure?” Theo argued back. “I can tell you where it’s not: In that Diner between the cockroaches,” Corey told him flatly.

****** Despite his boyfriend and his best friend telling him not to, Theo started the job. Liam gritted his teeth every time he got a whiff of the old grease on Theo’s work clothes and he had to bite back his snarl. The topic of Theo’s new job was delicate and they refrained from talking about it too much. They knew what the other would say anyway. Theo didn’t understand why Liam was worried and Liam didn’t understand how Theo could not understand why he was worried. It made Liam’s skin crawl with unease but for the sake of the peace in their relationship, he tried to mask it as well as he could. Thankfully he had a best friend like Mason. Mason who sat next to Liam one day and poked his side. “Go and change into some clothes you won’t mind getting dirty. Jeans and a t-shirt should be okay. Go!” Liam gave him a flat look. “Why?” “Because we’re going to do something. Get up your butt, Em.” He had no idea what this was about but Mason had this look on his eyes, the one he always got before dragging Liam into something crazy. He had the same look when he declared Liam his flight attendant. And he had called him by the childhood nickname only Mason was allowed to use. Not even his mom had the allowance to call him Em. A rule little Mason had once laid out. Two reasons why Liam could not say no. So he moved from the couch and dressed in an old pair of jeans and a plain red shirt. He didn’t know when he had bought the shirt and it wasn’t his favorite so he didn’t mind when it got dirty.

“I’m ready,” he announced and Mason grinned. “Perfect. I’m driving.” He kissed Corey goodbye who waved. “Have fun, you two!” “Where are we going?” Liam inquired while he followed Mason to the car. “You will see when we get there.” “Come on, give me a hint!” “No. It’s not a long drive. You will live.” “Have you met me? Hi, I’m Liam Dunbar, impatient Alpha, nice to meet you.” Mason just laughed and got into the car. Liam shook his head but still got into the passenger seat. “Seriously, man, give me something.” “Patience, young man, patience.” “Mason!” “Liam!” Mason parroted in the same way Liam had called out his name. The young Alpha huffed but realized he would not get an answer out of his best friend. So he leaned back and waited to see where the drive would take them.

When Mason stopped at the junkyard, Liam did a double take. “Why are we here?” “Just trust me. We’re doing something here.” Mason gracefully slipped out of the seat and left Liam staring after him dumbfounded. What the hell could you do at a junkyard? “I’m not picking up any dirt,” he declared once he joined Mason outside and the two friends headed over to the entrance. Mason just sighed. “You’re getting more and more impatient with the years. How does Theo put up with that?” “I make it up to him with my mouth and my dick.” “Jesus, TMI!” “You’re one to talk!” The friend’s bickering was stopped when a tall guy stepped out of a tiny container office. He looked like Hagrid’s twin and gave them a questioning look. “I called the other day and made an appointment. Name’s Bryant,” Mason introduced Liam and him and the guy nodded. “I remember. You paid in advance, right?” “Yup.” Mason nodded and Liam watched the exchange with a frown. He wasn’t so sure what to make out of it. “Okay, so the cars are right over there. You’ll find everything you need there. Do as much as you like.” “Thanks, will do.” Mason beamed at Hagrid and then grabbed Liam by the elbow and dragged him into the pointed direction.

There they found an array of various old and broken down cars standing everywhere and also several sledgehammers leaning against a makeshift counter. Liam’s frown deepened. “Mason? Seriously, man, what the fuck?” Mason gave him a sober look. “I know you are angry. Angry at the hyenas, angry because of the current situation, angry at Theo for taking such a job in such a dangerous environment. But you don’t show it. You hide it. Over the past few weeks, you have been our shoulder to cry on. We all came to you and cried about losing our home and you always consoled us. Who consoled you? I know you’re just as hurt, probably even more because you think it’s your fault since you’re the leader. Lee, I know you- in some regards, I know you even better than Theo - and you are an emotional person. And all those things left their marks inside you. We are here so you can let it out.” He grabbed one hammer and held it for Liam to take. “So let it out.” Liam looked at the hammer and hesitated. He could not do that. Mason waited for him but then he pointed at the various cars. “Look, the junkyard offers this service to trash the cars. Which proves my position you can make money with everything but that’s aside from the point right now. Thing is, you can let all your anger out and nobody gives a damn.” He nudged Liam and only then the young Alpha took the hammer. It still felt wrong in his hands. “I’m not that Liam anymore, Mase.” He shook his head and gave Mason an ashamed look. “Right. That Liam would have lost it completely, tracked down the hyenas and beat them to a pulp after destroying the house even more and probably demolish his neighbors' cars. But this Liam? This Liam is different. He is mature, he knows about his weaknesses, and I am so proud of him for keeping his cool, not losing his temper. But it came to a point where he keeps it all in and that’s hurting him.” He put both hands on Liam’s shoulders. “What I’m trying to say, it’s okay to be angry. No one can hold it against you. The shit you’ve been through, somebody tried to kill you, people constantly underestimate you, your house was destroyed. Everybody would get angry at all that, not just somebody with IED.” “And you want me to do what now? Snap and destroy the cars standing around?” “That’s why we’re here, yep.” Mason shrugged and stepped back. “If you want to. I’m not pressuring into anything. I just feel like you need an outlet. Others go boxing or run for many hours. Those cars are literally trash, they’re not your coach’s car who will freak out. Nobody cares about those cars here. Take it all out on them. Better than to bottle it up.”

Liam looked at the car right in front of him. It was a blue Peugeot and it had dents and rust all over. He twisted the sledgehammer in his hands. His palms were sweaty. He remembered how angry he got after being benched and how liberating it had felt to trash the car. And he remembered the shame after the anger had subsided and he saw his mother’s face. It haunted him to this day and he never wanted to go back to that place.  “I didn’t bring you here to rip up old wounds or make you feel bad. I know right now you want to fight. But you can’t fight the hyenas at the moment, so you can’t let go off that anger. We both know what anger does to you if you can’t let it out. Even before becoming an Alpha you hurt yourself to stay in control. That is what I’m worried about. That you’re bottling up your anger and hurting yourself.”

His best friend knew him inside and out. How often Liam had broken his own hands to keep in control. At the zoo, in school. Or how he dug his claws into his palms until they were bleeding. All so he didn’t lash out. Yes, he healed, but Mason was right, it wasn’t a healthy coping mechanism. He gulped. Still, there was a difference between destroying a car and breaking his knuckles. Besides, he got better since Theo became a constant in his life and his anchor. Theo, the one currently working at the nasty Diner. The late shift of course, and he would need to take the bus back home. The horror scenarios Liam’s brain came up with...All because he felt the need to earn more money to save for a house they needed because some asshole were-hyenas had destroyed their home. 

The car creaked loudly when the sledgehammer collided with the hood. It left a nice dent in the metal and Liam watched with satisfaction. And then he slammed the hammer against the window of the passenger side. It burst after the second slam. From that point, there was no holding back. Liam assaulted the Peugeot again and again and wrecked the car. When he was finally done, he was bathed in sweat, wheezed, and the windows were busted, the hood had several deep dents and the mirrors were missing. 

“Feel better?” Mason asked Liam. He had watched the young Alpha take out his frustration and only left for a short moment to get them both a bottle of lemonade from the car.  Liam nodded and dropped the sledgehammer. “Yeah,” he admitted. Taking his frustration and rage out on an object and not on himself or a person around him felt good. And to know nobody would freak out about Liam destroying the car felt even better. He now dropped to the ground and leaned against the Peugeot. Mason joined him and held out one bottle for Liam to take. He gratefully took it and gulped down a large sip of it. Mason sipped his lemonade a bit more graciously and the friends fell silent for a moment. 

“I still feel it’s my fault,” Liam suddenly admitted. “If I had not been injured, they would have not thought of me as weak and would have not broken into our house.” He swallowed harshly. It was hard to talk about it.  Mason played with the label of his bottle. “An Alpha invited you to her territory with the sole intention to kill you. You didn’t force her to do this. You didn’t force the hyenas to be the assbutts they were. None of this was in your control.” “But I am the Alpha, Mason. If I can’t even prevent that, how good am I as an Alpha?” “Pretty good.” Mason gave him a smile. “Liam, people constantly cast you aside due to your age but they have no idea where you come from. What you’ve been through. You’re just twenty and you already achieved so much. You gathered loyal Betas around you and they’re loyal because you treat them with all the respect and love. Your little brother worships you. You have a mate who constantly gets better thanks to you, his words not mine. Thanks to you, I stopped being afraid. You give us hope. Whenever we need you, you’re there.” He shook his head with a soft laugh. “I know you for so long, I know you always had the odds against you. The little boy with IED coming from a dysfunctional family, with an abusive father, too angry to ever fit in. The boy who got turned into a werewolf without his consent. The Beta who stepped up as an Alpha when his Alpha left to save the world. I told you once and I’m telling you again now: All things considered, you’re doing great.” Liam looked at his emissary and smiled weakly. He remembered them as teenagers, after the fight with the hellhound, sitting in the locker room and watching Liam’s injuries. He had been hurt and scared back then and Mason had been by his side. When Mason told him it was okay, Liam had believed him. Had understood things might take time, but they would be okay in the end.  “There’s still so much I need to learn as an Alpha.” “And you will. You already did, nothing’s stopping you now. I am so so proud of you, Lee. And remember: Wounds heal. Things change. The situation currently sucks but we will overcome this. With you as our leader.” Liam wanted to believe Mason like he believed him back then. But this time, it was harder. The situation was different than just heartbreak. “It still hurts.” “Nobody said it would not hurt. It will continue to hurt for a while longer, I know that. I just want you to know, you don’t have to face the hurt alone. You have me. Us. The whole pack. Lately, we have not been the most attentive to you, too caught up in our own sadness, but we are here for you. If you ever need a moment to not be strong, we will take over. Just be open about it and don’t hide it. It’s not good for you.” He smiled, less weak this time. “Thank you, Mason.”

If the house getting destroyed was the season finale is this the first episode of season 2 now? Or, if you see them moving into the house as the beginning of a new time for the pack, is this season 3? Ah, enough of that episode talk. I feel sorry for the pack. They are all good people and they deserve good things happening to them. But the chapter gave me the opportunity to write a bit more of Liam's history and also showcase Isaac more. I love him as a character and I will probably let him appear more. He is a great friend to Liam's pack. And Mason is a perfect best friend if you ask me. What do you think of the chapter? As always, let me know ♥

[americanmkultra]

For a House in the Mountains

The home as we left it was a harbor of oddities: pantry cabinets filled with Tupperware containers, artifacts of every household errand and trifle, stacks of cookbooks, medicines for both its human and non-human inhabitants; little waist-high doors that opened into low-ceilinged spaces where holiday baubles were stored; dead Christmas lights in messy knots on the floor and boxes upon boxes of decorations in various states of decay, packed together with tissue paper and stray pine needles. During holidays when we’d come home from school or living away it was our pleasure to sift through all that domestic detritus, the wake of several lives moving through the same place at the same time. They were cheap plastic things things you couldn’t think twice about if you saw them, though always on closer inspection cause one to wonder that they existed at all. Books were objects of intense fascination. Crates of children’s lit, YA paperbacks and the few hardcovers copped from classrooms, and, as we each got older, the three of us (my brother, sister, and myself), sterner stuff like Nietzsche, Dostoevsky, even a streak of Hemingway from Dad. They were stacked in columns, on bookshelves, in neat rows against bedroom windows, always with bits of paper sticking out of their dogeared pages. A middle class reverence for the lost in culture had sprouted in us. Somewhere, there were great marble columns and statues eroded most pleasantly; there were tight, roundabout alleyways paved with cobblestones that led to discoveries both awful and dear to which we might have swooned, could we have afforded the expenses of travel. To the far-flung corners of the Earth we dreamed to go, and it would be there, amid intrigues and strangenesses, that we would find the Truth. So we began to prepare for eventual embarkations, ministrations, and more; sturdy the masts and launch our Crusade or Quest or Road Trip; make a point to make pilgrimages into the sacred hearts of maps to study their secrets and to relish always the haughty turn of phrase; a romance with the world that could confound and exhaust, but would always be there, enticing us with the promise of something worth searching for.  We each took flight at the second we scented the hunter---for what else can one call that thing which seeks to destroy? I to a profession that demands surrender and the ability to march in line, while the rest to wandering, variously drinking and rousing themselves to occasional reunions. After half a decade the divorce is still a mystery to be solved, not by one seeking the finesses of love or its calculable lifespan, but by a lawyer who can divide it up without anyone feeling stiffed. Just last week the house was finally sold, and all the boxes and books and other precious things jettisoned as from a sinking ship. Mom supposedly sent a package of things to me, but it’s likely that I won’t get it, since I’ll be moving again too. Today if I went back to the house in New Hampshire, I would find it empty. The holes in the walls still there, the unfinished basement, bare pipes sticking out of the furnace at crazy angles, and the gaps in the baseboard circulating unwanted draughts around the rooms. The boxes have been removed. Mom called yesterday to inform me of their imminent disposal. If I chose to go back to visit friends (what few are left) I would spend my nights on their couches or floors or their own beds, but never in the bed that used to be mine, against the window that looked out onto the high Moat Range, the mountains deep-hued during sunset, serious and scruffy-browed. The grey rock exposed on their sides reminds me of Chinese ink paintings, except their mountains are brittle limestone jags, whereas those of northern New Hampshire famously granite and unbelievably hard.  There is a book somewhere, now lost, in which I once sketched some pictures of the mountains, right over the text (most of it bled away by dribbles of rain), one night my brother and I were camping.

[artificialqueens]

for all the honest world to feel (trixya) (2/8) - dare

When your skill set is limited to being a real person around your friends and family and a fake person around random strangers, you’re kind of fucked for being a real person around a basically-stranger.

He texted Katya: ’can’t remember how to interact with ppl when they’re not paying and lining up to meet me. do u know a good therapist.’

(AN: part two! i meant to get this up on monday so it would be one week squarely, but, on the flipside, this is legit twice as long as part one at 8.3k words. whoops? this is for M, who is to blame, because she said “where’s my 100k trixya slowburn fic with bonus adore friendship” and sunk me down this rabbit hole. i don’t quite love u 100k worth, but like, somewhere between 30-40% of that probably. thank u to dandee for reassuring me that this isn’t garbage!)

FROM: BOB - 11:03 AM - Thursday August 3rd, 2017

Your bf is talking crazy online again, u should prob check in w her

The one who looks like the baby eater from pan’s labyrinth

Girl

Txt me when u have a sec ok, it’s been a while

“So I cleared out my drag and opened a window last night – if it still stinks a little, I’ve got these candles that smell really fucking good, I can hook you up.”

“This is great, thanks,” Brian said, looking around. “Really, thank you so much for this. It’ll just be a few days while I figure out what’s next.”

“It’s no problem, girl. Whatever you need.” Adore swung her arms at her side. “Listen –”

Somewhere in the living room, a phone started blasting Britney’s Lucky.

Adore twitched in its direction, like a startled dog; “Shit,” she said, “I’ve gotta take that. Eat whatever’s in the fridge, I’ll do groceries later, and if you can find booze it’s yours but I’m pretty sure I’ve cleaned this place out, man. I’m coming, I’m coming!” she called in the direction of the phone as she disappeared through the door.

Brian dropped his guitar on the bed. Then he sat down beside it, at a bit of a loss.

Adore poked her head back around the frame.

“Hey, do you prefer, uh –”

The phone was still going off. “Uh,” Brian said, glancing over Adore’s shoulder.

Adore flapped a hand. “I know who it is, I can call them back. Just, like, we’ve only really hung out at shows. Do you prefer I call you one way or the other?”

“Trixie, I guess,” Brian said after a moment. He shrugged. “Trixie’s fine.”

“Cool,” said Adore with a smile. She was out the door before Brian could ask her the same.

Brian looked at the door, falling shut, then at the walls, and then down at the bedspread underneath him.

When he finally went out to the kitchen, Adore was on the couch, phone at her ear and knees pulled up to her chest. She didn’t seem to notice Brian; to be fair, she barely seemed to be listening to whoever was on the other end of the line.

Brian got himself some water, made a sandwich out of the scraps left over in the fridge, and slipped back into the guest room as quietly as he could. He ate sitting on the floor – there was no desk or chair in the room, and he wasn’t going to eat on somebody else’s bed; his mother had raised him, well, not right, but pretty okay – with his laptop balanced on his knees, watching some British baking show that Kim was obsessed with to calm his nerves before he checked his email or twitter.

He could hear Adore from outside, just a little, talking in a more serious tone than he’d ever heard from her. And that was weird, but there was no part of this that wasn’t weird. He was sitting on Adore Delano’s floor in Seattle; the nice, antique hardwood was biting into his ass. Like. Weird didn’t begin to cover it.

“What the fuck am I doing,” he said under his breath, then he pulled his phone out of his pocket like he’d been dying to since he arrived and woke it up.

There was nothing new from Katya under the column of message bubbles from Bob, which he’d received but not answered that morning. He tapped in his password and opened iMessage, scrolled past Bob with a mild guilty itch, and opened his and Katya’s chat. He thought for a moment, then started typing.

TO: Katya - 7:22 PM

some white girl’s been talking about me on the internet again

💖

The white ellipsis appeared almost immediately, flickering in and out of view, but no reply came.

After a minute, he typed and sent,

TO: Katya

Check in girl

The ellipsis flickered one more time and then a response appeared within seconds.

FROM: Katya

👌

His shoulders, which had been rising with the ringing of early alarm bells in his head, dropped and loosened. The uncommunicative but will survive signal they’d agreed on during one of the more hellish stretches of touring in 2015 was doing its job. He sent back another heart, then a picture he’d taken of his room – guitar on the bed, bags on the floor, and the hooks sticking out of the walls where, he assumed, clothing lines had hung to hold up Adore’s drag. His knees and his dinner balanced on top of them (the laptop having been abandoned to the floor before he could break it, juggling all his things like Icarus flying into the sun) were in the foreground, slightly out of focus.

He sent it over and added,

I love art

Katya responded with a heart wrapped up in a bow.

Around eleven, Brian heard the door outside open and close, and then, very faintly, footsteps on the stairs. When he poked his nose out of the guest room, the living room was empty, Adore’s phone lying abandoned on the coffee table. An unsettling, absolute quiet blanketed the apartment.

He slipped through the living room, then stood under the shower for a good twenty minutes regretting every choice he’d ever made.

Adore was back when he came out, sitting at the table that stood against the island separating the living room from the kitchen. Takeout containers covered the table and the smell of Chinese food filled the air.

“Hey!” she said when she saw Brian, brightening. “Grab a fork, I got a shitton of everything. You’re veggie, right?”

“Yeah,” Brian said. “But I’m, like, Wisconsin-veggie, not LA-veggie. If there’s nothing else I’ll eat it.”

“I got you, bae,” said Adore, sliding a carton down to the end of the table.

Brian laughed as he sat. “I’ve got you, bae,” he sang, not fully expecting Adore to get it, but her eyes lit up and she poked her fork fervently in his direction.

“I fucking love Johnny Cash,” she said. “Hang on, where’s my laptop – you mind if I put on some music?”

Brian waved his carton, like, please, go ahead, but Adore was already bouncing out of her seat and rushing off before he’d even finished the gesture. A few moments later the Folsom Prison Blues rumbled out across the apartment – and the space suddenly felt less hollow, the corners seemed less angular, and something about this airy Seattle rental with its expensive antique furniture and discordant hippie love beads was suddenly akin to the small warmth of his grandparents’ old home.

He tipped his head back on his neck, stretching out the aches, and hummed along, fingers marking out chords on the side of his carton.

“Have you listened to any of the stuff June did by herself?” he called across the room. “Wildwood Flower will change your fucking life.”

There was no answer. A moment later, Adore came back out of her room, frowning slightly as she typed away on her phone.

Brian watched for a second, then ducked his head and returned to his food.

He was halfway through his carton before Adore looked up again, setting her phone down on the table. “Sorry, sorry,” she said. “My mom would murder me for having my phone at dinner with a guest here.”

Brian waved her off. “It’s your house, girl.”

“Still –” Her phone buzzed insistently, rattling against the table. “For fuck’s sake,” she muttered, grabbing at it.

There was some more rapid-verging-on-furious typing. Brian glanced over every few seconds, a thought slowly occurring to him. He chewed methodically through the bite he’d just taken but barely tasted it at all; when Adore kept typing, hitting the top of the screen intermittently and scrolling like she was moving between multiple conversations, his stomach turned over and he blurted, “Have you told anyone I’m staying here with you?”

Adore looked up. Her eyes darted across his face for a moment, then she frowned, like what she saw wasn’t adding up. “No,” she said.

“Okay.” Brian tapped his fingers against the side of his carton. “Listen, could we, like… keep it between us? Me being here?”

“Here as in my place or here as in Seattle?”

“Seattle.”

Adore was still looking at him like that, brows pinched together, and he waited for the question he knew was coming – are you okay? Or, worse, do you want to talk about it?

Instead, Adore nodded slowly. “Yeah, for sure.”

The moment stood, suspended; the thudding guitar-beat filled the room in their stead. If they freed me from this prison, if that railroad train were mine, the walls echoed. I bet I’d move it farther, a little farther down the line –

Adore’s mouth moved, like she was biting at the inside of her lip, but then she relaxed and turned back to her food. “My brothers used to blast Johnny Cash in the backyard,” she said, like an offering. “You know, holding Grandma’s antique lamp like a guitar in front of their chests and yelling about prison.”

“Oh my god, same,” Brian said, laughing out of sheer surprise. “Well, my brother with Grandma’s lamp. It was my Granddad who’d put the tape on in the first place, so really, who’s to blame here?”

Adore grinned. “You and me, we knew better than to fuck with Grandma’s porcelain.”

“Bitch, completely,” Brian said, then barked a laugh. “You know how it is – the only family antiquity I ever got in trouble for handling was my great-uncle’s c–”

Adore’s phone buzzed again.

“Trixie Mattel, you are fucked,” said Adore through her laughter, grabbing haphazardly at her phone. “Like, in the head. No wonder Bianca likes you.”

Brian gasped and pretended to swoon.

“Fucked,” Adore repeated. Then she glanced down at her screen and sighed. “Sorry, I’ve gotta make another call.”

The moment she was back in her room, that same pall fell across the floor again; the feeling that Brian was so unthinkably out of place that the whole room was being distorted around him, like water slopping out of a previously-peaceful tub. He looked at the table. From the other room, the music stopped. He could hear Adore talking, staccato, rapid words piling up like a highway crash and then dropping into silence. If he tried, he could probably make out what she was saying.

She still wasn’t back by the time he’d finished his food. She’d taken one carton with her; he cleared away the rest into the kitchen, where he searched briefly for containers before becoming uncomfortable with the idea of digging through somebody else’s cupboards. There was a roll of saranwrap, no box, on the marble-finish countertop, so he used that to wrap the remaining food up as airtight as possible. He stacked them in the fridge (which was, for the record, an absolute graveyard) and grabbed one of the beers in the door for himself. He was just cracking the cap with the opener in the sink – he wasn’t the kind of gay who carried a swiss army knife, although he suspected that would be his final evolution – when Adore came back in, still on the phone.

He tipped his beer at her, offering. She shook her head. She’d taken off her wig; there was a bobby pin still sticking out from her bangs. The phone was pressed to her ear again and she looked like she was considering whether to make her warranty worth it. A new, unlit joint was clutched between the fingers of her other hand.

Whoever was on the other end must have said something particularly stupid, because she rolled her eyes and started off towards the balcony. She made an apologetic face at him across the room but he waved her off, mouthing good luck as he made his way to the guest room.

With the door shut behind him, the bare space felt like it was staring into his soul. Off-white walls, red sheets and duvet. No pictures.

To be totally fair, his own bedroom was pretty minimalist too. But it was like this little room was wholly separate from the rest of the apartment, which – while obviously an expensive pre-furnished rental – was littered with the detritus of life: pictures of Adore’s family stuck up all over the fridge, an oversized sweater slung over the back of the couch, half-burnt prayer candles on the mantle, and sheet music scattered over the coffee table.

It’s the guest room, he reminded himself. It’s the drag room. He hadn’t left home expecting to find home.

He was being stupid.

Halfway through his beer, his phone buzzed. He was stretched out on the bed in his boxers with a book; when he heard it go off across the room, he nearly spilled all over himself in his haste to get to it. He tugged it out of his jeans’ pocket and woke the screen up, already telling himself he was being an idiot for hoping so hard, but there it was – a new message notification from Katya.

I’m sorry about the periscope, it read.

He flew through his password and opened his messages. Settling himself cross-legged on the end of the mattress, he hunched over his phone and typed,

Girl no you dont have to be sorry for that. Did you say antyhign about me? No.

Yes, Katya replied.

He rolled his eyes, even though the message – the simple honesty of it – made something in his chest squeeze tight. Okay, but not so anyone else could tell for sure, he typed.

Should have asked tho. Or not done it at all. You dont like having your shit out there & here i am laying my corpse out for public autopsy with ur name in sharpie on my spleen

Brian laughed under his breath.

Your spleen? Wtf even is a spleen

All other organs completely atrophied :( mass necrosis :( spleen’s the only thing left but it’s urs, Katya sent.

Brian navigated out of his messages and flicked open Safari to google “spleen,” then he burst out laughing, half-yelling, before he remembered where he was. He screenshotted the page and sent it over.

U CAN KEEP UR ATROPHIED CORPSE BLOOD BITCH

And then, because he couldn’t resist: lucy, u got some ‘spleenin to do.

AHHHHHHHHHH, Katya replied.

Brian grinned down at his phone while the little ellipses kept on flickering. He had five more puns off the top of his head and two of them were actually good – but then the next message came through, and the smile slid off his face.

I am sorry though.

And then,

I dont know all of why you left but i can guess part of it. And i shouldnt have done that, knowing it.

I feel like i chased u away & then made it worse.

Brian swallowed. He looked away from his phone, up and out the window at the stretch of Seattle visible over the low roof of the building across the street – grey buildings, yellow lights, deep blue sky. Leafy green unfurled between the rows of buildings, trees demarcating where the gap of the street escaped the naked and distant eye. At the farthest edge of his vision, the navy-black of the sky melted into the ocean on the horizon. And then there was him – lost somewhere in the middle of it.

Was this running away? Sort of. Was it worse?

He turned back to his phone and thumbed it awake again. He typed, you didn’t. Don’t be stupid.

The beginnings of a response flickered on the left side of the screen; he raced to finish – i don’t want you to not be you. i LIKE you.

The ellipsis disappeared.

Brian yawned into his palm, dropped back onto the bed and scooted up until his head was on the pillow. Pushing up onto his elbow, he stretched to turn off the bedside lamp; the clock at the top of his phone’s screen said it was pushing 12:30 and he was completely wiped. Fuck, he was old.

Speaking of old, Katya was typing again.

I like u too. Shocking i know. I still feel bad but i wont have a breakdown or anything over it, promise

Brian grinned tiredly.

I’m not worth a breakdown? I thought i was on ur spleen

Go to bed you wretched cunt, Katya replied.

Brian sent another heart emoji, then switched his phone to sleep mode, shut his eyes and relaxed back. The wall on his left glowed dimly with light from the window, which had no curtains, but it wasn’t enough to keep him awake. His eyelids grew heavy. He kept thinking hazily, like it was coming from somewhere outside his own body, about how Katya would smile around the words if he’d spoken that last text aloud.

When you were on the road as much as he was, it was the little things that mattered the most, the little things you carried with you. He moved too much to carry a lot. But the way Katya’s voice sounded when he smiled – Brian had carried that close, these last three years.

He was still thinking about it when he fell asleep, the low murmur of Adore on the phone whispering through the walls and Seattle grey and restful outside.

*

The next two days were weird.

It wasn’t that Brian didn’t know how to relax. It was just that he didn’t know how to be still. He hid out in his room but his mind ran off without him, thoughts spinning from Seattle to LA and back again. The frantic energy would build up inside him until he had to go outside, fuss around in the fridge without picking anything, step onto the balcony for just a minute before going back inside – struck by the deeply paranoid conviction that someone was watching him.

Fucking crazy.

So he’d go back in his room, chip away at the book he’d brought – Gillian Flynn’s depiction of the Midwest was unflattering but one hundred percent accurate, right down to the murder rate – firmly not-thinking about his laptop, waiting, and the whole wide internet out there and all the speculating that may or may not be happening.

It had been one day, he told himself. One and a half now. There was no speculating.

Fucking, fucking crazy. He was breaking away from dire realist in the direction of paranoid schizophrenic. But he’d sit there, or lie there, as the case may be, and he’d flip pages until he realized he wasn’t reading at all, and then he’d put the book down and just think, about all the shit he was doing wrong, the massive and ominous precedent of shit he’d done wrong in the past, all the responsibilities he was letting slide, the momentum he was losing by the minute, and, worst of all, Katya.

And eventually he’d reach some dumb-ass breaking point and repeat the whole pattern. It’s not like the fridge had gotten more full. It’s not like he was actually hungry.

(What he wanted more than anything  more than anything was to pick up his guitar, but the thought of interrupting the afternoon quiet like that made his stomach turn.)

To make it worse, Adore kept catching him on these ridiculous trips. Apparently she was as generous as she was talented because instead of looking at him like he was a lunatic or kicking him out of her house, she’d smile, like seeing him in her living room was completely normal –  and Brian would echo it, his whole body suffused with awkwardness.

The fifth time it happened, Adore was just getting off a call. She reached out to grab his arm as he was passing by to say, “Hey, tacos tonight?”

And Brian said yes, and then, remembering the previous night, “I never really got around to asking. Do you have a preference? Like, Adore, or –?”

“Adore’s good,” she said. She blew her bangs – short again today – out of her eyes. “I feel like I’m always a little bit in drag, you know? And anyway, only my family calls me Danny all the time.”

“Same,” Brian said, huffing a laugh. “The family thing, I mean.”

And then, at a loss for the next conversational turn, he pretended the plate of microwaved leftovers he was carrying – this trip being the first and only time he actually had a reason to leave the room – had suddenly become very hot, and juggled it awkwardly as he retreated with a sheepish smile.

That was it. That was the whole conversation.

‘Tacos tonight’ was actually a bag of veggie tacos Adore pressed into his hands on her way out to the balcony, phone pressed to her ear. Brian didn’t mind. He was becoming more and more uncomfortable with the realization that it wasn’t just Adore’s guest room he was crashing in on. It was her life.

When your skill set is limited to being a real person around your friends and family and a fake person around random strangers, you’re kind of fucked for being a real person around a basically-stranger.

He texted Katya:

can’t remember how to interact with ppl when they’re not paying and lining up to meet me. do u know a good therapist.

Katya sent him a skull emoji and a phone number. He laughed at the first; the second he stared at for a long time, then resolved to pretend it never happened.

Thursday started with Adore knocking on his door around ten to let him know she’d be livestreaming in the living room, and Brian smiling painfully to try to hide the fact that his palms had gone all sweaty. He ducked back in his room and stayed there for two hours, long past when Adore went quiet outside and the live vid must have ended. His heart rate kept picking up at random moments, which his high school level biology told him wasn’t really supposed to happen.

A little while later, Adore knocked again.

“What’s up,” Brian said, swinging the door open. A guitar was thrust immediately in his direction, so fast he had to throw his hands out to stop it before the neck could hit the doorframe.

“Oh, shit,” said Adore, and then, “Hey. Wanna teach me to play?”

Brian stared, and then he felt one side of his mouth tick up. “Yeah,” he said. “Okay.”

They sat on the couch, turned towards each other, Adore with her piece of shit Yamaha (he wasn’t being mean for the sake of it, it really was a piece of shit) and him with his Gibson. She showed him the few chords she knew, fingers wobbly against the frets, glancing up at him under her bangs to check if she was doing it right. He remembered, suddenly and intensely, holding his Granddad’s guitar for the first time. How the strings pinched his fingers. He could almost smell the sage his Grandma hung in the windows, which filled the kitchen with a faint perfume on breezy summer days.

“Don’t press too close to the metal, it can mess with your pitch,” he said. “When you’re just learning you’ve gotta really nail the placement before you can fuck around with it. Like scales and runs, right?” He played a few chords of his own, clean as windchimes. “You do it right, and then you fuck it up. Intentionally.”

“It huuurts,” Adore whined. She laughed as she stretched her pinky for the third fret and slipped. “Oh my god, fuck this!”

“Suck it up, buttercup,” said Brian, grinning. “Here. The trick is to not think about how much it hurts or how bad you sound. What’s a song you really like?”

“Hit Me Baby One More Time.”

Adore had a shit-eating grin on her face, but if she thought Brian doesn’t know every word, she’d pegged him as the wrong bitch. “Okay, that’s – hang on – four chords, you know three of them. This is D minor,” he said, and demonstrated. “But don’t worry about getting it perfect. This is more about your fingers learning where they’re supposed to be. So four chords, and the rhythm is something like…”

He played the first line – four-four time, with a folk bent to the rhythm.

“Shut the fuck up,” said Adore, staring at him wide-eyed and laughing in disbelief.

“Don’t shut up, copy me,” Brian said. He was laughing too, playing the chords over and over. “Guitar is about rhythm as much as melody. The song is four-four, but you don’t strum four times to four beats precisely. Come on, do the upstroke, don’t be scared of it.”

“Don’t be scared of the upstroke,” Adore wheezed, and Brian gave a high-pitched scream of laughter.

“Um, this is serious,” he said, “why don’t you respect my art?”

Adore played an astonishingly sour chord and swore. “I don’t believe in, like, putting restrictions on what art is and stuff, but girl, I’m pretty sure this isn’t it.”

“Have a little faith in me,��� said Brian. He played the chords through one more time then came in, quiet overtop, loading country into the vowels. “Oh baby baby how was I supposed to know…”

Adore burst out laughing, then broke in, “Not to be scared of upstrokes.”

“Bitch! Oh my god.” Brian thought quickly. “Oh baby baby I shouldn’t have let you go… dick like a mighty oak, yeah.”

Adore got up and started doing the iconic knee-socks-and-pigtails hallway choreo, shoulders shimmying, and Brian nearly dropped his guitar out of his lap he was laughing so hard.

But then they did some Fleetwood Mac, and some Lauryn Hill, and even a little Johnny Cash, although neither of them could sing low enough. And it was – kind of great. Just jamming, not on stage or in a club but in a home, where the acoustics weren’t great but the company was.

On Friday, Adore went out in the morning before Brian woke up, and didn’t come back until the sun was starting to set beyond the balcony, an orange glow covering the living room floor. She stopped in the front hall, shadowed; Brian, sitting on the couch with his guitar in his lap, couldn’t make out her face, but he could see the slump of her shoulders and her hands fisted at her sides.

“Adore?” he said, quietly.

She looked up, and then stepped further into the apartment so the tangerine light fell on her face. Her mouth was pinched tight. For the first time, Brian noticed faint stress lines around the corners of her eyes.

“Sorry,” she said. “Long day. What’s up?”

“The usual,” said Brian, shrugging a little. He reached up to fuss with back of his cap where it rested against his forehead. “I think a pigeon shat on the balcony. You should get a cat or something.”

Adore sighed, long and heavy. Then she dropped her bag and jacket to the ground and walked past him to the sliding doors, ragged converse scuffing against the floor. She didn’t even look at the site of the unfortunate incident; she just circled it on her way to the railing, where she propped her elbows up and leaned out, looking across the street at the city beyond.

After a minute, she put her head in her hands.

Brian fidgeted with his guitar, tension creeping up his spine like a pernicious weed. That feeling that had been so successfully foiled the previous afternoon – that he was intruding – was back. He curled his fingers tightly around the frets so the metal bit into his skin; then he picked up his guitar and retreated into the guest room, as quietly as he could.

At some point he dozed off; it was pitch dark outside his window when he woke, and he could hear Adore moving around the apartment restlessly. Not on her phone, like she often was. Just moving around.

He slept in fits and starts, and each time he drifted to consciousness he could hear her out there, still awake, wandering the contours of her home through the night like some anxious ghost.

*

Adore was still out there the next morning when he woke up, blearily stumbling out of his room at seven AM – one leg thrown over the back of the couch, painted toes catching the early light, fully crashed out. Even asleep, she was clutching her phone to her stomach, white-knuckled. He looked at her for a long moment. There was some kind of conclusion percolating in his brain, just out of reach; he felt, weirdly, like he was making a decision, although he wasn’t sure what it was yet.

She started awake with a grunt fifteen minutes later as veggie bacon sizzled on the stove.

“I’ll be running that off for a week, you fucking asshole,” she mumbled, draping one arm dramatically over her eyes.

Brian chuckled. “It’s veggie, girl,” he said. “No running required.”

“I love you,” she said plaintively, the words muffled against her skin. “Please stay forever.”

He pushed some bread into the toaster and scraped at the pan a few more times. Eyes glued to what he was doing, and with as much nonchalance as possible, he asked, “You get much sleep at all?”

She didn’t answer. She was staring up at the ceiling when he looked over his shoulder, her gaze distant, like the day before was coming back to her in one fell swoop. Brian was familiar with that particular feeling.

The decision – the one he’d been percolating on – reached him all at once.

“Adore?” he said. When she didn’t say anything, he tried, “Danny?”

She blinked and looked at him. “Yeah?”

“Do you, uh,” he said, then told himself suck it up and pushed the rest out – “Do you have anything going on today? ‘Cause I was kinda thinking it would be nice to like. Go out. Do something.”

Adore sat up fully, crossing her arms over the armrest and looking at him inquisitively. Which was fair. He hadn’t left the house in the three days he’d been there so far. “You want to go out?”

No. “Yeah. I mean, if you want.”

Her face lit up, like he’d thought it might. “Yes,” she said. “Yes, fuck yes. I’ll give you the fucking tour, man. Seattle is literally so fucking stunning, you’re gonna – shit, Pike Place Market, you’re gonna go crazy. It’s like Chicago on speed, if it was way more white and smelled like fish.”

“I think the important question here is,” Brian said, sidetracked from his own anxiety, “when will we have a queen who’ll roll around on the docks for an hour before a show and go out on stage serving fish? Like giving you realness, honey. When will we have that queen?”

“Katya,” Adore pointed out. When he started laughing, she said, “No, I’m so serious. She’s gonna be living in a sea shack collecting beer caps and colourful glass from the shore to cast spells on people. I give it ten years but I’m telling you, it’s gonna happen.”

“Oh bitch, completely,” Brian said, grinning, then, “Shit, hang on,” as the bacon started to blacken and smoke. Once it was safely off the stove and onto a plate, he turned back. “So, Pike Market?”

“Pike Place Market,” said Adore. “Yes, fully yes. I don’t think stuff opens until, like, ten, so let’s eat, and then, I dunno, nap, and head out in like two hours. Seriously, Trixie, this is gonna be the best. Like you’re not even ready.”

Two hours, a plateful of bacon each, and some napping later, they left the house on foot, and twenty minutes later a flare of neon red appeared between two curtaining buildings. They emerged onto the street directly in face of the great fluorescent sign: PUBLIC MARKET CENTER, it read, on three levels of rails above a single-level shopping arcade, with a great clock-face suspended on the right side of the rails. It was only going on ten-thirty, but the entryway was bursting with flowers, the street outside awash with pedestrians going in, going out, or gawking as they passed by.

“Holy shit,” Brian said, and Adore turned to him and grinned.

“Get ready to lose your fucking mind,” she agreed.

He was so busy staring in every direction around him as they entered that he barely even registered the crowd; and it didn’t matter, because every other person was craning their neck doing the same. They entered into a farmer’s market, where stalls of brightly coloured fruits and vegetables were stacked one on top of another. Neon signs and banners overhead directed visitors and advertised wares; when it wasn’t food it was flowers, roses, sunflowers, carnations in gorgeous arrangements, eye-catchingly vibrant.

With a fiver Brian bought himself a pear while Adore went for a banana – “this is definitely not local,” she said, laughing, then proceeded to mime deep-throating it in the middle of a crowd of tourists while Brian giggled.

Past the farmer’s market there were cheeses, fresh meats, and, as promised, so much fish and salt he had to cover his nose for a second, although he was pretty sure that was rude.

“I’m from the country, bitch!” he said when Adore laughed at him. “I thought the ocean was something my brother made up to screw with me until I was, like, thirteen!”

“Shut up, you did not,” said Adore, shoving at his shoulder. Her grin was bright in the thin rays of sunshine that slipped through the slats overhead; she looked like she’d forgotten the previous day entirely. Which was exactly the point, and which made the way Brian twitched any time a stranger looked at him a second too long almost worth it.

There were bakeries and cafés further down the walkway, which seemed to go on forever, but Adore pulled him away and down some stairs. He followed the bobbing of her tiny ponytail – held up by one of those stupid two-loop elastics with the little plastic balls, which, yes – down to a second, lower level, where there were fewer people and he could actually see the wooden floors under their feet. The stores were more artisanal here – leatherworks, glass and jewelry, some vintage clothes stores they were going to have to demolish later, and –

“There,” he said, tugging at her arm, “There, there, tell me we’re going there –”

“Duh.”

A magic shop, the facade papered with old circus posters in red and black; inside, it was somehow two floors (“How?” he demanded, to which Adore replied, “Magic, bitch!”), the walls lined with books, magic kits stacked on tables, with a long counter on the left filled with pendulums, crystal balls, earrings, bangles, and rings. There was everything from whoopie cushions and itching powder to tarot sets stuffed in every inch of square space; and in the dead center of this colourful chaos stood a big glass box, like an old-school cinema popcorn maker or one of those stuffed animal claw games. It said FORTUNE TELLER in purple neon on the top. Inside there was a bust of a withered old woman; she had one hand up in some witchy gesture while the other was held out flat, cards splayed out in it face-down. She frowned out at the observer from under disturbed eyebrows, like she didn’t quite approve.

“This… is the best thing I’ve ever seen,” Brian said, eyes wide.

Adore had already peeled off to talk tarot spreads with the woman behind the counter, with whom she seemed to be on a first name basis. Brian huffed a laugh, then turned back to the glass case, which was calling to him something fierce. He walked over, pulling out his phone as he went.

Katya would love this, he thought, and took a quick picture and sent it to her.

I can’t believe u followed me to seattle, he typed, and then, the humidity is really bad for ur skin, huh?

Katya replied with a string of exclamation marks followed shortly by a BITCH. YES.

Smh, he sent, then tucked his phone away again.

“Hey!” Adore called from behind him. “You want Steph to read your palm? Swear to god, it’s some real shit, man.”

“Stop it,” Brian called back, startling the woman behind the counter into laughter.

A larger group of tourists burst in then, college-aged, filling the center of the space and pointing everywhere excitedly. Brian made a face at Adore over their heads as he shifted back towards the wall to avoid them.

These kids weren’t really that much younger than him, but they looked like – god. Babies. A few noticed him looking and looked back; he turned away to inspect the books on the shelf behind him, tapping his knuckles frenetically against his thigh.

When no one approached him after a minute or so, he went from fake-looking at the titles to actually looking, and then browsing, and then he found himself flipping open a small book titled Witches’ Wisdom On Surviving The Apocalypse, which turned out to be full of free verse poems. One of them began:

We were burning long before you put your pyre under us

That’s where the power is

Start there.

He didn’t know a lot about poetry, so he couldn’t say if it was good or not. Probably there would be more than one copy stocked if it was. Still, when the crowd moved on to the second floor, he kept hold of it as he approached the counter – where Adore, he realized, frowning, had disappeared.

“You want me to ring that up for you, doll?” said the woman – Steph? – behind the counter. She was probably in her late forties, fuzzy curly mom hair, black cardigan, anatomically-correct heart necklace with tiny inscriptions he couldn’t read running along the big ventricular arteries. She was probably crazy; he liked her more or less immediately.

“Did you see which way, uh, Danny went? I think I’ve lost him.”

“Skipped up to the staff roof for a bit, I’ll show you where.” She looked down at the book in his hands and nodded. “You want me to ring that up for you?”

Brian looked down too, to where he’d been running his thumb across the two ravens on the cover unconsciously. “Yeah,” he said. “I have a friend who’ll go nuts for this.”

“You should read it too,” Steph said, accepting his card. “You look like you’ve seen a bit of apocalypse yourself. Door behind me, up the stairs. It’s supposed to be just staff, but Danny’s a sweetheart and he’s by all the time so we let him up.”

He nodded his thanks and waved off the offer of a little bag, ducking around the counter with the book still in hand. Through the door and up too many stairs led him to a beige landing and another door; through this one, he emerged into the sunlight, gulls overhead, and for a moment, staring up at the sky, he forgot where he was entirely.

“Trixie!”

He jerked back to himself, and went over to join Adore at the edge of the roof, leaning against a thick metal railing, staring out at the grey-green stretch of the ocean and the breaking waves.

“Sorry,” said Adore. “I meant to be back down before you noticed, but I guess I just – lost track of time.”

She had a lit joint in one hand, gaze distant.

“You okay, girl?” Brian said, hooking his elbows over the rail.

Adore looked at him sideways, like, really?

And – okay, that was fair. It’s not like Brian was one to talk.

Adore brought the joint to her mouth and inhaled deeply; she held her breath, then exhaled, a thin white plume drifting up into the robin’s egg blue of the sky.

“Crowds give me the shakes sometimes,” she said. “You know?”

Brian looked down at the toes of his sneakers poking out past the lip of the roof, then across at the water. The wind off the ocean ruffled the pages of his book as he held it up to shade his eyes.

“I don’t know if ‘shakes’ is the right word, but. Yeah.” He forced a smile. “That’s just where I live now.”

It was such a deeply insufficient answer, but when he tried to force anything else out, his mouth felt like it was stuffed full of cotton; his throat closed up and he had to swallow, grit his teeth, look back out at the water.

“Trixie.”

He looked over. Adore was watching him, gaze steady.

“You can stay as long as you need,” she said. “I mean that.”

He swallowed again and nodded.

She turned back to look out too. The August sun beat down, but with the breeze at their faces, it wasn’t overwhelming. It was like the warmth of two bodies under a duvet; despite the conversation, Brian felt himself relaxing, eyes slipping shut and face tipping up towards the light.

He remembered walking down the Santa Monica Pier with Katya; he remembered taking Katya’s hand, and Katya’s brilliant smile when he did. And that same feeling – like all his stressors, all the shit in his life that he couldn’t seem to outpace or outwit, were melting away.

Adore nudged him in the side a few minutes later. “Listen,” she said, “some friends invited me out tonight for drinks at this cute little bar on Capitol Hill. You wanna come? It’s super chill. I have a show there later this month, actually.”

Brian shrugged his shoulders up awkwardly, then dropped them. “Not this time, I think,” he said. “Thank you, though.”

“No probs, girl.” Adore nudged him again. “Wanna get some sketchy food and go try on vintage clothes while the sales people stare at us?”

Brian laughed. “That’s a yes. Hard yes.”

*

Adore’s apartment was eerily quiet when he got back, her keys cutting into his palm with unfamiliar ridges and jingling an unfamiliar tune. He paused in the threshold, setting down his and Adore’s bags, and looked out at the low sun in the west, the rays cutting golden across the otherwise-dim living room.

He walked in and stood for a moment where the rays just began to touch his face. He hovered his hands over the back of the couch, a bare breath away, then shook his head and went around it, dropping his new book onto the coffee table and sinking down into the cushions.

He meant to do something – read, get his guitar, get his notebook – but instead, he nodded off into the deepest sleep he’d had in weeks.

It was dark when he jostled awake, with just a thin sliver of light glowing from under Adore’s bedroom door. Something near him – on him – was buzzing. Drugged up with the last seconds of his dreams, for a second he wasconvinced it was bugs – and then it buzzed again, in the front left pocket of his jeans, and he remembered his phone.

When he pulled it out, Katya’s name was shining above the green call symbol.

He nearly dropped the phone in his haste to press accept. “Hey,” he said, “hey, hi. Hi stranger.”

“Hey yourself,” Katya said, and Brian could hear the smile in his voice like warm sunlight. “Have you seen my friend Tracy? She vanished into the night and no matter how many Christmas bulbs I tape to my wall I can’t seem to find her.”

“Is that what you’re calling interior decorating now? Bitch, I’ll take the demi-gorgon,” Brian said, and grinned into the dark as Katya cackled delightedly. When he’d settled again, Brian added, “Hey. It’s good to hear your voice.”

“You too. I’ve missed you,” said Katya. He made a dismissive sound, then, and said, “I mean, I know that’s stupid, we’ve gone longer than a week without talking on the phone and much longer without seeing each other, but. I missed you anyway. And all the festering guilt probably made it worse.”

Brian pushed himself up to sitting, pulling his knees in towards his chest and resting his cheek against the back of the couch. “I wouldn’t be telling you anything you don’t already know if I said you don’t need to feel guilty, right?“

“Yeah.”

“You process better out loud. That’s not, like, news to me. And I didn’t…” he trailed off, trying to get his thoughts in order. “I don’t want to take away something that’s good for you, something you use to cope, because it’s not something I like or want for myself. Like how selfish would I have to be – that’s not what I want.” He rubbed at his eyes. “I get the radical honesty thing, you know? It’s just…”

“It’s not how you operate, I know,” Katya said. “And I knew you wouldn’t be mad, although I still think maybe you should be.” He laughed. “So I’ll quit apologizing for periscoping about my, uh, emotional duress. But I will still say sorry for putting that day out there. That was meant to be just ours. So – sorry.”

They were dancing around it, and Brian knew it was for his sake, but he wondered if maybe it was for Katya’s too, a little. “Apology accepted,” he said quietly. He rubbed his thumb along the knuckles of his index finger, feeling out the juts of bone and the softness of skin on skin. “And how goes the emotional duress?”

Katya huffed a laugh. “Oh, you know. Enduring.” Brian rolled his eyes in the dark. Katya seemed to know it because he laughed again, just quiet, intimate beside Brian’s ear. “I’m doing better now,” he said. “It took a few days. It was like I knew consciously that all of this couldn’t be just my doing, that there were all kinds of factors that I may or may not know about, but try telling my crazy brain that.”

“I know,” Brian said, pressing the phone closer to his ear, like that would accomplish literally anything. “I”m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Katya said. “Just promise me you’ll talk to me when you’re ready.”

“I will, of course I will.”

It felt to Brian like he needed to offer something up, something to bridge the gap of hurt he’d left behind – in both of them – when he left LA at the end of the tracks. But unlike that moment in the bright afternoon sunlight with Adore, here, now, it felt almost easy to find a little piece of himself and hand it over. Because the room was dark, and this was Katya.

“We went to Pike Place today,” he said. “Adore and I. It was amazing, you would love it, but – it was the first time I left the house since I got here. Basically the first time I left the guest room.”

Katya made a soft noise.

“My shoulders go up when I’m around a crowd of people. Just thinking about going out for drinks with Adore’s friends tonight made my pulse race. It’s not – I’m not anxious. I’m pissed. And… concerned about the consequences of being pissed, because I’m so frustrated and done and so much shit could go wrong – I could lose everything.” He scrubbed a hand roughly over his head. “I can’t stop thinking about it. So maybe anxious isn’t so far off.”

“I wish I were there,” Katya said, his voice a quiet rumble, like morning waves at low tide.

Brian closed his eyes. “I wish you were too.”

They sat in silence for a long moment. Brian’s eyes were starting to slip shut, each blink lasting a little longer, but he could feel the tension in his shoulders still, and he could see the stress dreams coming at him from a mile away. He forced his eyes open and said, “Let’s talk about something else. Just before I go to sleep.”

“Tell me about Pike Place,” Katya said immediately. “Was it amazing?”

“So amazing,” said Brian. “There’s this fucking – girl. There’s a fucking magicshop. The woman behind the counter is on first name basis with Adore and she offered to read my palm.”

Katya screamed very quietly on the other end of the line. “See my future with them hands, bitch,” he crowed, and Brian was laughing, saying, “Bitch, yes.”

“Okay, okay, that’s amazing,” Katya said. “Is that where that hag you sent me was?”

“You’d better believe it. Oh! I got you a present.”

“What?” A smile curled through Katya’s voice. “What is it what is it what is it?”

“I found this little book of poems,” Brian said; “Witches’ Wisdom On Surviving The Apocalypse.”

“Oh my god, I need it.” There was a pause, and then Katya said, “Read some of it to me?”

“Hang on.” Brian used the dim light of his phone screen to find the book on the coffee table, then to skim through the pages for the lines that had caught his eye before. He lifted his phone back to his ear, angling it awkwardly so the light was enough to read by if he squinted. “Okay. So this one is called, uh, Battle Plans. It starts:

We were burning long before you put your pyre under us

That’s where the power is

Start there.

But this isn’t work for one –

So start there

And start with you, and start with me;

This is work to be done with love.”

The sound of Katya’s breathing over the line as he read was like a warm blanket; his eyes dipped, shut, blinked open again and again. His words faltered. He picked up the thread once, then again.

His head nodded forward. His phone fell into his lap. At some point, on the other end of the line, Katya ended the call – Brian woke up the next morning to find his screen read “Call Ended - 24m13s” (on what had been, at most, a fifteen minute conversation.)

He looked down at his phone, and he smiled.

[thefruitsofloveff]

Chapter 2.

King

11:20 

“I don’t know Neal. This case is kinda fucked up. She is his girlfriend, the mother of his child and she lives with him. How can she prove she had nothing to do with anything”.

I questioned. First day back in the office and they throw this 2 week old case on my desk. I love my job, but it comes with it’s challenges.

“Listen skip. I know she’s innocent. She might be all those things, but one thing she’s not is a criminal. When s-”.

There was a knock on the door before Crystal my secretary opened the door. 

“Tiana Williamson is in”.

I nodded, watching her open the door wider and letting the young girl walk in. She looked to be super young. Why was she involved in this kind of mess. I watched as she held her alert young son in her arms and sat on the couch.

“Im sorry, How old are you?”.

I questioned. Before I take on anything, I need to know what I’m getting myself into.

“22 years old. Is this about my age or case because last time I checks the state of New York will put at 15 year old behind bars if necessary”.

I scoffed, and shrugging my shoulder. Walking over to the seat across from her, me and Neal sat down and began reading from Dominic’s file.

“Alright. So From the charges that have been brought to me, He is facing 2 counts of Drug possession. That includes Heroin, Cocaine, marijuana, prescribed pills and methamphetamine... anything sound familiar”.

She exhaled, looking at Neal and nodded.

“I knew, he was selling drugs. I never knew the lengths of it and I was never involved”.

I nodded. I really didn’t believe her, she was dressed nicely. Too nicely to not be involved in illegal activity. But I’m not a cop, just a lawyer. I continued on with the charges.

“Level 3 aggravated assault with deadly weapon. 3 Counts of Drug Manufacturing and Cultivation. Drug trafficking along with distribution and lastly but probably not least Extortion”.

She shook her head and looked at her friend.

“Ok, so where does Tiana come into play with all this?”. 

Her friend spoke. Neal looked at me then back at the two of them.

“Because my team was told that she was his partner. That she knows more then what she’s playing. That’s a problem because that's called Aiding and Abetting. In other words accessory, which is a easy 10 years”.

I seen tears well up in her eyes. Looking to the ceiling to stop them from crying she then looked back at me.

“Ok, so what do I have to do?”.

“You would have to testify against him. Likely chances he’ll be released on bond. Around that time we might have to wire you up to get more information on him”.

I spoke. She shook her head, about to stand up but was pulled down by her friend.

“I can’t, he will kill me”.

“So would you rather do time. Away from your kids. This is necessary. And unless you have something to hide, you have to do at least one of these things”.

She nodded. Not really saying much, but I could tell she was thinking about it.

“I’ll testify. I’ll talk and give ya’ll any information ya’ll need, but I can’t wear a wire infront of him. I’d be putting me and the kids lives in danger”.

Me and Neal looked at each other, then nodded at her.

“Ok so can ya’ll get her and the kids out the house. Like ya’ll said, he could get out on bond. She hasn’t been answering his calls so he gotta think something is up. He’s hit her before an-”

Tiana nudged her friend, signalling her to stop. But Neal already heard enough.

“If he has ever hit you. That is also a domestic violence charge that could be brought forward. Has it ever happened Tiana?”.

He questioned. She exhaled, looking down at her son and nodding.

“While a child was present?”.

She once again nodded.

“We’ll talk more about that. As far as getting her out the house. I and Neal will find a home for her to reside in”.

She nodded, wiping her eyes and kissing her sons head. 

“So tomorrow, come to the office. I should have housing ready for you?”.

The both of them nodded. Rising from there seats and shaking our hands. After walking them out I looked at Neal and shook my head. Laughing he grabbed his jacket and shrugged his shoulders.

“You are the only one that can get this done. We need this dude behind bars and her safe”.

Tiana

6:20 pm

“Does Dominic have to come back?”.

Trent Questioned. I smacked my teeth and shook my head. Trent was beyond afraid of Dominic. And for the longest, I hated myself for letting it go as far as it did with him. I put him first and everything else last, and for him to do this to me is completely fucked up.

“He’s not coming back, matter fact we’re leaving soon. Tomorrow soon”.

His eyes lit up with excitement. Maybe all this is happening for a reason. To finally open my eyes and get me out of this toxic relationship. I feel horrible about ever my grandmother down. She was my number one fan, and I did no wrong in her eyes. I fought her hard about Dominic, tried to convince her he wasn’t the man that corrupted my own mother and later killed her. I tried but she seen right through him, even before I did. When she died, I should have left him. I should have took Trent and left him, but I didn’t I stuck around. He took care of the both of us. Not with a relationship, but with money.

“Where are we going exactly? Will I be going to a new school?”.

I shrugged my shoulders.

“I can’t really answer all those questions yet but just know tomorrow we’re starting over”.

He smirked, putting his plate in the sink and walking over to me. I smacked my teeth as he squeezed into the chair, causing  Titan to scream.

“You know what, wherever we go, just see if I can play a sport this time”.

I laughed rolling my eyes.

“We can arrange it, definitely”.

Sitting back we enjoyed the Movie home together. It was shortly interrupted by a knock on the door.

Still engaged in the movie, I got up and headed to the door. Not looking out the peephole, I swung the door open. My mouth instantly got dry and my head began to hurt. Looking back at Titan and Trent, I stepped out the door and slightly closing the door behind me.

At the door stood Q and his niggas. Q has always had beef with Dominic. I guess recently he stole from him. Word around town he been looking for him in every hole until he found out he got locked up.

“Why are you here. Dominic isn-”.

“I know. And I’m just making sure you know that if you trying to cover that nigga tracks, stashing my shit. Ima kill you and them kids. You feel me”.

He stepped closer, placing both his hands at the top of my head on the wall. Lowering his head to my neck, he chuckled darkly before placing a small kiss and backing up.

“I’m not fucking playing”.

I nodded, opening the door and watching him walk back down the hall. Closing it quickly, locking and standing  with my back against the door.

King

8:36 pm

“When I said dinner out daddy. I meant you and I out... at a restaurant.... without all your papers”.

I bust out laughing, placing the folder on the side of me and bringing some rice to my mouth. 

“Sanaa What’s wrong with Chinese?”.

She shook her head and laughed, looking up from her box of food. 

“Nothing, at all. But it’s not quality time if you’re not paying attention”.

I scoffed smirking a little. She was too much like her mom. Mouth and all. I decided to close the folder and finish the night with her. 

“Well I’m sorry. How was the first day back?”.

She exhaled, shrugging her shoulders.

“It was pretty good. I missed my friends. They kept asking me if I was ok”.

“Did it bother me?”.

She shook her head.

“No, It means they care. I’m glad they do”.

I smiled, getting down on the floor beside her and eating my food along with her.

“You know what’s awesome though?”.

I shook my head, eating some of my Chicken and mixed vegetables.

“Having my daddy. I know a lot of kids don’t. So I’m glad I do. Even though mommy died, I still got you”.

I smiled nodding my head.

“And I still got you. I wouldn’t have it any other way”.

She smiled. He smile soon feel and she looked at me with a serious face.

“Will you ever get a new wife?”.

I looked at her confused, sitting up straighter then I was.

“Why you ask that?”.

“Because Ginger said after her Daddy moved to Seattle, her mommy got a husband. I was thinking that could happen to us”.

I shook my head pulling her into my lap.

“No, No time soon? You are my main focus”.

"Ok, just making sure". 

I laughed smiling at her as she ate her food. As soon as I was about to dig in, my phone vibrated on the glass table. Looking at Sanaa, i smiled before answering it. 

King: wassup

Neal: I found a place, Jersey City

King: 44 minutes away nigga really

Neal: It's the best that could be done on short notice. Just make sure when you moving her, you're watching your surroundings. Get close to her, I feel she knows more then she's telling, which could be good for this case.

Rubbing my eyes, I nodded to myself before answering him.

King: Got it. Off my line Neal.

Hanging up my phone, I threw it on the couch. Looking at my watch, i looked over at Sanaa and stood up. 

"Time for bed munchy".

I watched as she took one last sip of her soda before standing to her feet and grabbing my hand. 

"Rough day at work". 

I chuckled, nodding my head. 

"Yeah, already... brush you teeth". 

Pulling her covers back, I sat on the edge of her bed, looking at the picture of her and Regina. My trance was broken as her face leaned in towards mine, blowing her breath in my face. 

"Smells good. Looks good. Ok your good".

She smiled, climbing in her bed allowing my to pull the covers to her neck. Kissing her forehead then nose, i walked towards the door and turned out the light. 

"I love you daddy"

"I love you too Princess".

I cracked her door, then headed back to the living room. Flipping the channel to ESPN, i began to much on my food once more, and continued working on the civil case against Dominic.

[blschaos3000-blog]

Its 8:09 pm sunny/spring/RIP Steve Cash

Welcome to *8 Questions with……”

I first met our next guest,film director Michael Wong,a couple of years ago. He had sent me a email me asking if the cheetah and I would review his debut film,”The Story of 90 Coins“. I agreed to take a look and was blown away with how good it was,it made our Best of List for 2018. But as I often do with actors and directors,I stayed in touch with Michael. Many nights found me chatting with him about film and then life and family. I kept waiting to see what Michael would produce next and last year he finally dropped his second short film called “The Tattooist” which is a 90 second hayride to hell. I had never seen such pure creative storytelling done in a mere 90 seconds but Michael had done it and “The Tattooist” won several awards from around the world and it also made our Best of List last year. Michael currently lives in Beijing,China and has gotten a front row seat of the Covid-19 pandemic and how China was handling it. Its been a very hard ordeal on hundreds of thousands of folks but they are really doing a great job in staying united and helping each other. I admire his grace under pressure outlook and tremendous courage while  sheltering in place in his home. I thought now would be a long overdue time to do a interview and so I asked Michael if he would like to share his story and below is his response. I hope you enjoy it as much as I liked conducting it…….

  Please introduce yourself and tell us a little about you.

I was born and raised in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia but I’ve been working and residing in China since 1999. I started off building a career in the advertising industry as a visualizer, then climbed up the ladder as an Art Director and finally a Creative Director; having worked at such leading advertising agencies as Ogilvy, BBDO, TBWA, Grey and Saatchi & Saatchi. In 2010, I made a career jump to be a film director and I’ve never looked back ever since.   My directorial debut short film ‘The Story of 90 Coins’ picked up 60+ accolades from international film festivals; which includes the Best Direction and Best Cinematography at Malta Short Film Festival, Rising Star Awards at Canada International Film Festival, Best Foreign Short Film at Ukrainian International Short Film Festival, Best Drama and Best Cinematography at Los Angeles Film Awards, Best Foreign Short at Los Angeles Independent Film Festival Awards, among others.     My most recent micro-short film ‘The Tattooist’ has been awarded Best Trailer at HorrorHaus Film Festival, Best Gore, Best Editing and multiple nominations at Independent Horror Movie Awards, Most Terrifying award and multiple nominations at Top Indie Film Awards, Best Trailer at Terror In The Bay Film Festival, Best Director at Diabolical Horror Film Festival, Winners at Calcutta International Cult Film Festival and Cult Critic Movie Awards, among others.    Nowadays, I do film projects mainly in Greater China and on and off for Malaysia and the South East Asia region.

What was it like growing up in your home?  I grew up in Pudu, a slumpy district in Kuala Lumpur, the capital of Malaysia. Back then, my mom operates a hair salon in an old shop lot which also doubled up as a home for the family. The place was smacked right in the middle of a huge marketplace; a dense area with a rich potpourri of multi ethnics and assorted of trades. There was this large wet market that sells all sorts of fresh farm products. Encircling the place are pots and pans stalls selling snake oils and cheap goods, holes-in-the-wall dim sum places, VHS rental shops, cheap electronic shops, traditional Chinese medicine stores, sundry shops, etc.    Back home in the daytime, there were lots of activities going on at the hair salon. The customers were mostly shop owners and people from the neighborhood thus I’ve had tons of real-life stories and fascinating gossips to be immersed in. It was such a fascinating place to grow up in!

What three films did you watch as a youth have stayed with you and what made them so special? Alien (1979): A classic, scary alien movie. The Thing (1982): Another classic, scary alien movie. Demons (1985 & 1986): Perhaps my first intro into gory (yet fun) horror flick during the VHS era. For a 13 years old teen, it was truly memorable; with certain scenes that stuck in my mind like an ice pick! *Note that all 3 titles are R rated. For a 10+ years old child, it’s always a novelty to pick some off-limits genre upon walking into a VHS store.

How did you get your start in the film industry?   After more than 16 years in the ad industry and has won over 50 creative awards, I somewhat found myself getting more involved in a managerial role and office politics and less of the actual creative work.     Initially, I decided to have a long break from advertising and started freelancing as an Artistic Director for film production houses. Basically, my role was to help out with the local Chinese film directors in elevating the aesthetic look of their work. After a few projects, I was pondering if I should be helping myself craft a name of my own.      My first break into the filmmaking scene was as a writer/film director gig on a commercial project for Lenovo; a viral video campaign that was to be used in such markets as India, Russia, the Middle East, Eastern Europe, Turkey, South Africa, South East Asia, Hong Kong, and Taiwan. Finally, I’ve taken a leap of faith and pursue a career as a film director on the receiving end; concentrating on film crafting and artistic expression.

What do you enjoy most about directing?

It’s most enjoyable when you see that the vision is built upon, layer by layer. The creative process from A-Z as your ‘baby’ is being realized; from concept, idea development, script, pre-production, production, and all the way up to post-production.

What are some of the pitfalls young directors should try and avoid?    Try: Doing freebies! It’s the best way to own a new piece of work. Since it’s a collaboration deal, it opens up a great opportunity to push for your wild ideas and have it accepted by the client or producer.     Worth trying: Don’t be afraid to copy and imitate other director’s styles. In any case, always remember what Jean-Luc Godard said: “It’s not where you take things from – it’s where you take them to.” Remember that!     Avoid: Avoid copying/ imitating directly! Only select things to steal from that speak directly to your soul. Then your work will be authentic.

How did you come up with the idea for “The Story of 90 Coins”?

    Well, it started off with a jewelry company client of mine who wanted to jump into China’s digital bandwagon; the mass shifting of the advertiser’s marketing budget from traditional media to internet media phenomenon, and also to leverage the online video craze. Instead of doing a hard-sell advertisement, they wanted a less intrusive yet effective approach in their marketing strategy. The owner of the company specifically asked for a story that touches the heart and our team started off scratching our heads trying to make up some interesting romantic stories. We had a stroke of luck when my writer came across three interesting true stories that happened to her friends. Very touchy stories on their own merits. One of them involved the idea of embedding little memoirs with coins wrapped in small envelopes. The client eventually chose that story and we further spiced it up with our ideas and developed a concrete storyline.

Do you like to handle the casting of your projects or are you okay with casting directors?  Well, it really depends on the budget and the unique situation with each project. For ‘The Story of 90 Coins’, we initially worked with a casting director. They came back to us with a stack of comp cards and casting videos for the 3 main roles. One candidate by the name of Han Dongjun was highly recommended by the agent for the male protagonist role. Following his ‘The Story of 90 Coins’ role, Han Dongjun catapulted into stardom after appearing in the popular Chinese drama series Wu Xin: The Monster Killer.    For the female role, we don’t have any good candidates as all that was shown to us looked superficial plastic look. Then, we got lucky and came upon Zhuang Zhiqi who was a friend of Han Dongjun’s acquaintance. It was her first time acting in front of a camera! She was in Hong Kong and she e-mailed us a home-made casting video and we immediately fell in love with her earnest performance.    The antagonist José Acosta was an acquaintance of the client and he is a shoe designer in real life.    For ‘The Tattooist’, I handled the casting myself and gotten the amazing ensemble from Troy’s Team Action. They also doubled up as the film production team! Brilliant and crazy-ass talented folks!

  What is the relationship like between a director and a producer?   A director handles the creative side and its job is to dream it all up and be extravagant. The producer needs to ensure that it all happen on time and on budget, so their job is to conserve. The director and producer have opposing jobs, and this symbiotic relationship creates an important balance. The little tug-of-war between the producer and the director is necessary and healthy.

Why are cats the perfect pet? I’ve owned both a dog (he passed away a few years back due to old age) and cats as a pet. Cats are perfect as they demand less attention from the owner. There’s no need to walk the cat during snow, rainy days nor any other days.

If you had a chance, would you like to make a feature for “The Tattooist”?    The idea for ‘The Tattooist’ started off from an escape room business that my business partners and I have created. I wanted a theme that players are yearning for; something that they would love to experience in a controlled environment but wouldn’t want to experience in real life, hence a horror theme.     ‘The Tattooist’ which is currently in a micro-film form was written in a way that has the potential of becoming a full-length feature. There is so much potential backstory to build around the antagonist as well as those poor victims. Hopefully, ‘The Tattooist’ will gain enough traction to pique the curiosity of producers (Jason Blum & James Wan, please take note!) from Netflix and film studios alike.

You live in China; how have you been personally affected by the culture?    I arrived in Beijing in 1999 for a job posting in BBDO as a Senior Art Director. The country was pretty backward and raw back then. One of the more memorable snapshots of life back then was a minibus ride I had along Changan Avenue, the main boulevard in the capital. The minibus was kind of a dingy stuffy vehicle ran on diesel. As I stepped in, the bus conductor handed me a foldable wooden stool and mumbled a few words to me. I can’t speak a word of Mandarin during that early years so I can’t comprehend at all what he was saying. He pointed to the rear of the bus and I was flabbergasted to see some other passengers were sitting on stools in the middle of the aisle! Fast forward 21 years later and you can find that all the city buses are running on electricity. No more messy paper ticket but you pay either using a bus card or by tapping the smartphone on the scanner. It’s a crazy pace the progress that’s happening here.     In terms of career, I’ve been fortunate enough to work on some memorable campaigns during China’s best advertising period; the dotcom boom (and subsequent bubble burst) in 1999, the roaring economy from 2004 towards 2008 as brands capitalized on the Beijing Olympics. Then, there was the automotive industry boom in the early 2010, followed by the consumer-driven digital economy and now the Industry 4.0.     It has been a fruitful and amazing journey living through these China milestones and having personally being rewarded spiritually and economically throughout these years. Lots of ups but unfortunately some downsides as well, which includes 2 global pandemic that was SARS and now the SARS-CoV-2.

Do you feel the film industry can bounce back from a pandemic like this? Even back in late 2018, China’s film industry was already affected by a State Taxation Administration campaign that tightens its tax policies and collection methods within the television and film business. The controls caused investors to pull the plug on new productions and even on-going projects.    To further aggravate the suffering, the Covid19 pandemic puts 5,000 Chinese film and TV firms out of business, as recently reported in Variety.    Being an optimist, I’m sure that the film industry will bounce back from this crisis but will be operating within a new ecosystem. In the near future, there’s no doubt that the film and TV industry will need to accelerate its pace of digitization and shifting online. This trend started a few years ago as the local Chinese players saw the success of Netflix’s major international expansion into 130 new territories (excluding China) in 2016. We have already seen the increase in budget and production quality of these web series and the focus will continue to do so.     Due to the pandemic, cinemas are still shuttered and ticket revenues are badly affected. Looking at all this, investors and studio producers will be more focused on internet-based movie and series.

The cheetah and I are flying over to watch your latest film but we are a day early and now you are playing tour guide, what are we doing?    First of all, the ‘must-see’ is the usual Beijing tourist attractions such as the Forbidden City, Temple of Heaven, Summer Palace, Lama Temple, Drum & Bell Tower plus a tour to the old hutong (alleys) for a glimpse of old Peking. Another must-do recommendation is an overnight stay at the Simatai stretch of the Great Wall of China. Simatai offers a memorable experience of the unrestored part of the Wall with superb vista for sunset and night hiking along the Wall. For night activities, perhaps to catch a Chinese opera show and the famous Peking Duck feast in the capital. Foodies will love the Ghost Street, where a long stretch of restaurants operate 24/7 offering different choices of gourmet from various provinces around the country.

I like to thank Michael for taking the time to chat with me and with the bright hope that he and his fellow peers can get back to making films,look forward to his next project. I know Michael must be chomping at the bit to get behind of the camera once more!!

You can follow Michael by the following ways:

You can follow him on Vimeo. You can follow him on Facebook. Keep track on his upcoming projects via his IMDb page.

Thank you for taking the time to read and supporting this interview. If you’re new to the blog and “8 Questions with…..”,you can catch up by going here and meeting over 100 very talented people from all over the world. 

8 Questions with……. film director Michael Wong Its 8:09 pm sunny/spring/RIP Steve Cash Welcome to *8 Questions with......" I first met our next guest,film director Michael Wong,a couple of years ago.