#parenting 101 for Rockstar dads

[siriuslycollins-blog]

Parenting 101 for Rockstar Dads

CH. 4- The One Where Everything Is Not Okay pt 2 (Or The One Where Jared Has an Insane Idea)

Jared was an absolute wreck, but was trying to hold it together as best he could for his new daughter Kaela. He didn’t eat, didn’t sleep, or play any music; the last time he picked up his guitar was a week before Kaela was born. It even pained Jared to go inside the room he shared with Nessa, let alone sleep in that bed. Seeing her paintings and Polaroids of the two of them hanging on the wall; these days he slept on the air mattress in Kaela’s nursery. Nessa’s death didn’t really sink in until they lowered her casket in the ground, and that’s when he broke down crying.

He didn’t care that he was crying in front of everyone, that he was probably making a fool of himself in front of the other attendees. Kaela cried too, although she probably had no clue as to why she was crying. The first memory she has of her other is burying her; Jared knew he should’ve gotten a babysitter that day. He was currently sitting in the rocking chair, just holding his baby and looking at her. He had just given her a botle and she was about to fall asleep at any moment.

God, Kaela was perfect, the most perfect baby in the world. She had these big brown eyes inherited from her mother, a head of dark curls, chubby cheeks and light brown skin. This was his daughter, he was a father, a dad. Jared would be responsible for this precious life for the next eighteen years and beyond. It was hard for him to wrap his head around the fact he would be doing this alone.

“Well pretty baby, guess it’s just the two of us now. I don’t have that much experience with babies. Scratch that, any experience around babies. Your mother was the expert with anything relating to children, but I’m going to try my best not to screw this up, I promise.” Kaela’s eyes fluttered, and he rocked back and forth in the chair slowly before putting her in her crib. Jared loved watching his daughter while he slept, loved watching her eyelids flutter and the small movement of the pacifier in her mouth. An angel really. Shannon poked his head in and got a good look at his brother; Jared looked terrible.

He looked like he hadn’t slept in ages, and Shannon couldn’t remember the last time Jared ate anything. “Jared, you have to eat something. Starving yourself isn’t going to fix anything,” he told him gently. Every now and then, Jared would eat bits of food and be done with whatever he was eating. Now, he survived on coffee, juice and water, and it was starting to take a toll on him. Jared waited a minute before answering, never taking his eyes away from the sleeping baby.

“I’m not hungry,” he muttered, and his voice seemed dull. “Well, the neighbors dropped off more food. I can’t eat all of it by myself,” Shannon attempted to make a joke. Last week, the two brothers went to the leasing office to explain their situation and to take Nessa’s name off the lease and replacing it with Shannon’s. Soon the entire complexing had caught wind of Nessa’s death and constantly stopped by to offer condolences and food. The only good thing about it was that they hardly ever had to buy food in addition to baby formula. Even then, his neighbors, and even Jackie, were buying baby formula for him. 

The fridge was practically bursting with casserole dishes and Tupperware containers and Similac. “Okay then. Is there still anymore of that lasagna left?” Shannon smiled as he saw his brother get up from the chair. “Yes, and macaroni and cheese, and ziti and whatever else is in the fridge.” There was so much food that he made Jackie take a few dishes home with her. 

Shannon heated up a plate of lasagna for him in the microwave as Jared rinsed off a fork; as he sat down, he ran his hands through his hair. “How are you Jared, really? And don’t even think about saying you’re fine because I now you’re not. The truth Jared.” “I asked her to marry me Shan. A day before she died. Had a ring and everything.” He pulled out the ring from his shirt pocket and laid it on the table. “And then I made a fucking fool of myself at her funeral, and an even bigger mistake by bringing Kaela. What the fuck was I thinking?”

Jared sounded like he wanted to cry, but he couldn’t; his eyes were sore, and he didn't know if he could even produce tears anymore. “Jared, listen to me. You brought Kaela there to be surrounded by people who loved Nessa, and those people love Kaela too, they’re her family.” The microwave dinged, and Shannon took out the plate and placed it in front of Jared. “Now eat.” He managed to eat half before Kaela started crying; it was almost two in the morning and Jared was starting to feel it.

He made a move to get up before Shannon told him to sit back down and finish eating. “I’ll get her. Just finish eating and then go to bed.” Jared wasn’t that hungry anymore anyway, so he wrapped his plate in foil and put in the fridge; he’d finish it later. Jared stood in front of his bedroom door, sighing before pushing it open. The only time he went in there was to grab clean clothes from the drawers, never staying in there longer than two minutes.

He would grab enough clothes to last him a few days and bring them to the nursery. Jared was also a little too keyed up to sleep; maybe a shower would calm him down. Even after washing his hair, he stayed in the shower a few more minutes until the water began to run cold. He dressed as quickly as he could so he could get back to the baby; she was already settled down on her back, splayed out like a starfish. Shannon was knocked out in the rocking chair. 

“Shan. Shan. Shannon, wake up.” It took him a minute to wake up, and he stretched, standing up. “What time is it?” A little after two in the morning. Go back to bed, I got it from here.” Just because Jared a leave of absence from work didn’t mean his brother did; he had a full time job and still managed to help with the baby. “Are you sure?” 

Shannon looked concerned, and he was tempted to call in sick. “Really Shannon. Kaela looks like she’s down until at least seven.” His older brother looked torn between wanting to go back to sleep while also wanting to help with Kaela. “Shannon, I promise it’s okay. Go back to bed.” With one last look back at Jared and Kaela, Shannon went back to the living room; Jared laid down on the air mattress and tried to get some sleep. 

This entire situation was fucked up. Right now, he and Nessa were supposed to be arguing over whose turn it was to check on Kaela. He was supposed to have a fiancée with everyone congratulating them on their impending nuptials. They had even talked about moving into a house closer to campus only weeks ago, and now everything had gone to shit. Jared rolled over in his makeshift bed and he felt tears slide down his face. 

Sometimes he cried, and sometimes he didn’t, but it was usually always at this time at night, when he was sure Kaela and Shannon were sound asleep. It made him fall asleep, but he always woke up with sore eyes. There was no way he’d ever cry in front of Kaela or Shannon; he wanted to appear strong, to show his brother that he could handle this, needed to be strong because this sweet little baby depended on him. Something had to change. Jared hated his job, and he wasn’t getting any richer. This apartment had too many memories that he was not ready to face yet. Louisiana felt suffocating all of a sudden.

What kind of childhood would his daughter have? Jared wanted her to feel safe and secure, not having to pack and move away every year, or living out of a truck like he did, and she definitely will not be working at the age of twelve. He had to get out of this city, out of this state, but where to go? How would he support his little girl? Jared didn’t plan on bussing tables and washing dishes for the rest of his life.

Maybe he could do something creative that would put food on the table, but so far, the only creative jobs that were coming to mind was teaching music and art at schools and he didn’t have a teaching degree. The only other option was... Los Angeles California, a city known for creativity. Jared had always been interested in movies; maybe one day he could direct one. He could be one of those directors whos movies become a cult classic. Jared had to try, it was worth a shot.

Even if things didn’t work out there, he could say he did try instead of wondering what could’ve been. Jared would try California for a year to see if could get any work and after a year if things didn’t work out, he would go back to Louisiana and enroll in community college. That was plan and he was going to stick to it. Now how was he going to explain this crazy idea?

tag list: @llfd1977 @blackreaders-assemble @itsmeauntie @squeackygee

[awesomefringey]

The story O posted is just laughable. She had to be literally laying on the carpet for the picture to be taken that way. The more she does this stuff, the more stupid she looks. A genuine, “going strong”, “I don’t care what people say, I’m a girlboss”, relationship doesn’t need a constant “proving it’s real” by the people involved.

All these IG hints are so minor 101 bearding effort that I actually appreciate it. They’re not overdoing the “Harry is the new dad to Olivia’s kids” narrative but at least backing up the “they so serious” part.

What I actually find laughable is that Miss I-Jetset-Around-The-World-For-My-Gay-Rockstar-Boyfriend-Because-I’m-Living-The-Best-Life-To-Being-Served-Custody-Papers-Because-Shit-I-Have-These-Kids-Thank-God-I-Tattooed-Their-Names giving parenting advice on that post as well.

Like dude, can anyone finally give her a reality check?

Just imagine dating Harry Styles and still no one wants to be you…

[0nlythrowharrybeaux]

Drabble list no.1 please make it really fluffy

1. “That’s how the story goes.”

V-cute and V-fluffy

SEND ME A NUUUMBERRR

Y/N had, had a grueling day at work. Driving back home in traffic, being hungry, and being deprived of her beautiful daughter, Lucy, all day was just adding to her desire to get cuddled up in bed and FaceTime Harry, it’s not like she was doing it all alone, but Harry’s work was very limiting when it came to down time at home. He was busy living his dream and he provided so much for them, so how could she be upset over that. Also, Lucy loved telling her friends at school that her dad was a rockstar. She smiled despite the blaring horns and thousands of brake lights on the 101.

********

Harry had decided to surprise Y/N and Lucy. He wasn’t supposed to be back for another two weeks (he may have fudged the numbers a bit), so as soon s he landed he called the sitter and told her she was relieved for the day and his first good deed was picking up Lucy from her kindergarten. He lives for seeing his daughter smile. She started crying with joy and he made sure to spend a proper day with her, drilling it into her that it was a surprise for ‘mum’. She helped Harry pick out which flowers to get her and as soon as they got home she played with their dogs while he got dinner ready.

Harry didn’t mind domestic life, in fact he loved it. As much as he loved getting up on stage and rocking out night after night, these were his favorite moments. The ones where he gets to help Lucy how to read, and how she talks about her best friends at school, and how “Mommy talks about him all the time”. He couldn’t be more proud of his life. So when he hears the door creaking open his heart skips a beat when Y/N’s voice sings through their home.

“Luuucy!” She sang and he grinned as his daughter flew past the kitchen and to her mom, “Missed you so much today, baby!” He heard her say and in a few seconds Lucy was back in the kitchen, holding a finger up to her lips, telling him to keep quiet, “Flora, sorry I’m a bit late, traffic was-”

“Surprise!” Lucy and Harry cheered and she jumped, but then squealed in excitement.

“Oh my god!” She ran into his arms, he laughed as they somehow managed to trip on each other and down they went, “M’sorry, babe, got a little excited.” She whispered sweetly and he grinned.

“S’alright, like it when you’re on top.” He whispered and she scoffed.

“Har!” She warned, eyes traveling to their daughter who was stood there, watching her parents, their pets sniffing Y/N and Harry, it was wonderful chaos.

“This is the bit you need to cover your eyes fo’, princess.”  He glanced to Lucy.

“Yuck!” She giggled and ran away, making her parents laugh.

“I missed you so fucking much.” She whispered.

“Yeah, show me how much.” He mumbled, lips so close to hers. She was just about to lean in when Lucy spoke up.

“Are you done yet? I’m hungry!” She announced and Harry huffed.

“Yeah, baby, go sit at the table.” Y/N said, “I will show you, all. Night. Long.” She kissed his forehead, and each cheek, with every word and he pouted, “Up you go.” She said after she heaved herself up, arms extended to his.

“Fine.” He huffed.

Soon they were sat around the table having a wonderful dinner. After that they played some games with Lucy, then Harry gave her a bath while Y/N cleaned up the kitchen and soon he was tucking her into bed.

“So what story are you going to tell me?” She asked and he chuckled, she was a spirited on.

“Manners, princess.” He said and her eyes widened.

“Bedtime story, please?” She rephrased and he smiled.

“Alright… once upon a time a very handsome prince really wanted some ice cream at midnight…”

******

Y/N had finally finished cleaning up downstairs, she didn’t mind cleaning up the mess, especially when it was from two people, not just the few misplaced objects from when it was just her and Lucy. She let the dogs out for a few minutes, then put them into their kennel and despite the stairs, she didn’t feel so tired as she climbed them, knowing exactly what was waiting for her at the top of them. She smiled as she heard Harry animatedly speaking and Lucy giggling, these were their special moments, so she hung out by the door quietly.

“-So then the prince said to the princess that she made the best ice cream in the entire kingdom and that he wanted to marry her and you know what the princess said?”

“Yes?”

“Yeah, bub, she said ‘Yes!’ And the prince was so, so happy!” He said, making Y/N smile, “Best decision of his life.” He confirmed making little Lucy swoon. “And so they spent the rest of their lives together eating ice cream, forever!” Technically that’s how their story went.

“And they never get tummy aches?” Lucy asked, eyes wide and he chuckled.

“Never, ever, ever. They’re so happy and in love there’s no time for tummy aches and that’s how the story goes. ” he finished and she clapped, which made him giggle, “Now it’s time for bed. You say your prayers like grandma Anne taught you and I’ll see you in the morning.” He said leaning forward and kissing her forehead. “I love you more than anything in the whole world!”

“Are you sure?” She asked and both he and Y/N laughed, which gave her away, they both looked back so she stepped in, “Think you love mom more than anything.” She said.

“Nonsense, love you the same amount!”

“I love you two the same amount.” Y/N said to Lucy and Harry frowned.

“Heyyy.” Harry whined playfully.

“We need to share, daddy.” Lucy said firmly.

“Yes, you’re right.” He huffed in feigned-defeat and Y/N leaned down and kissed her forehead as well, telling her she loved her before they closed her door.

Harry and Y/N quietly headed into their room, she didn’t get two feet in before he had pressed her up against the door, turning the lock and kissing her with everything that had been pent up for five long months, parting for just a moment.

“So does all night long start now? Or…” Harry asked and Y/N giggled.

“Yeah, now, it can start now.”

[drawingwithgreen13]

Things that don’t get as much attention in Be More Chill as they should (based on the original bootleg and audio)

Gonna put them under a read more coz this list is L O N G

Jeremy lifts his shirt up in his bathroom to look for muscles

Jeremy thinks of Robert De Niro as a ‘hero’ and a cool guy

Rich literally lifting Jeremy up by his shirt collar when Gerard’s legit 5′4

I’d say Jeremy sounds genuinely interested in play rehearsal but a lot of people already know about that

Pretty much all the shenanigans that go on during the first classroom scene, like Rich doing the finger-through-hand fucking thing to Michael

Jeremy outright says he has small nuts

Michael wears his hoodie all the time until he sees Jeremy

Michael knows about Jeremy’s thing for Christine and is supportive of him!

Jeremy writes letters to Christine

Rich doesn’t actually point to Jeremy when yelling ‘gay!’, he just holds his fist up (or he points with his pinkie, I didn’t see)

Jeremy gets surprised by Michael when the two are at the door to play rehearsal, which is where the line ‘I guess evolution's not for everyone...’ comes from

MICHAEL THREATENS TO MOCK JEREMY FOREVER IF HE DOESN’T GO TO REHEARSAL WHAT A NERD

Christine tries to make a joke

Christine knows about sex and makes jokes based on it (’You’re a virgin. First play rehearsal!’ ‘You never forget your first...play rehearsal!’)

All the shenanigans happening in the background of Mr Reyes talking about the play (Jake pumping his fist up when Mr Reyes talks about the sport team and RICH GOING ON HIS KNEES TO PULL A CHAIR UP FOR BROOKE TO SIT ON)

Mr Reyes hugging Christine after saying Shakespeare is dead

Jake trying to be smooth with Christine and Christine obviously being kind of bothered by it, but trying to be kind

THE LITTLE EXTRA PART JEREMY SINGS WHERE HE TALKS ABOUT HAVING A BREAKDOWN THIS BOY HAS HAD BREAKDOWNS FROM NERVES

Rich’s hips during ‘confidence’, you know the one

Rich slapping himself for talking with his lisp

Rich pretty much hinting that he has a small dick

Whatever those weird hand things he was doing were during the ‘it’s from Japan’ part

Slide-y slide-y ‘IT’S FROM JAPAAAAAAAN’

How when Rich sings the next part, a robotic voice plays in the background, almost like it’s his SQUIP talking...?

More hip wiggles

‘TEENAGE ROCKSTAR SPLENDOR’ AIR MICROPHONE AND MORE HIP WIGGLES

Jeremy is a clean freak by the looks of it (’Aren’t you gonna wash your hands?)

Rich’s dancing (THE SHIRT LIFT THO)

How Rich flushes the urinal at the end

All the shenanigans during Two Player Game (stealing controllers from each other, switching beanbags, Michael fucking Tickling Jeremy)

The boys like Nintendo!

Jeremy getting annoyed at Michael’s constant ‘coooool at college’es

Mr Heere entering his son’s room, knowing fully that there’s a guest in there, WITHOUT PANTS

‘Are you hanging out with a girl? Oh...hey, Michael.’

Mr Heere was gonna order pizza for them aww

Michael sounds genuinely concerned when Jeremy talks bad about his parents

Jeremy legit flips Michael off after he says ‘favouwite person’

Michael reminding Jeremy to get to the point during the SQUIP deal

Scary Stockboy is more of a drama queen than Mr Reyes, who’s a drama teacher

Michael’s ‘whatever’ look at Stockboy’s ‘I DON’T KNOW WHY!’

The fact that the ‘pumps’ line was improvised

Jeremy was willing to share the SQUIP with Michael

‘I like to think that some day, you’ll owe me one’ FORESHADOWING

Mountain Dew can apparently be sold in cups?

Jeremy likes chilly fries apparently

Jenna immediately going to record Jeremy spasming on the ground

(The rest is just gonna be from the audio now) Jeremy sounding high as fuck when he says ‘you look like...Keanu Reeves’

Eric not being able to do a British accent for the life of him

How fucking excited Jeremy sounds when he says ‘LIKE IN X-MEN??’

Jeremy’s first independent shirt choice was...a girl’s shirt. What does that imply with his fashion sense? Or maybe he’s so thin only girl’s tops can fit

Chloe making Madeline sounds like the person who murdered her entire family in front of her

How fittig Lauren’s singing style is for ‘Do You Wanna Ride’ like wow?

CHLOE SINGS WITH BROOKE LIKE WHAT, CHLOE WAIT UNTIL ACT 2

The scene where Jeremy is tiredly singing before going to sleep and the SQUIP calling him ‘slugger’

Chloe is, like...really selfish. The way she talks to Christine about Jake makes it clear she isn’t over him

Christine sounding genuinely upset that Jake didn’t go to play rehearsal, and not just sad-upset. She sounds legit betrayed

Jeremy and Christine slow dance Jeremy lifts Christine up and spins her do you see the love in his eyes when he’s looking at her

How well Will C’s and Stephanie’s voices go together

The SQUIP literally breaking ‘cause Christine said she liked Jake

The fucking volleyball line, SQUIP you’re gross

How convincing Will C’s crying is (side note but hearing him cry makes me think back to the fact that during one show he legit started sobbing during the ‘everything about you is so terrible’ line and the show had to stop to calm him down)

BROOKE IS A GOOD GF WHOEVER SHE ENDS UP WITH IN THE FUTURE IS LUCKY

‘Super old and kinda mean to women’

The SQUIP saying he ‘didn’t exactly’ kill Eminem, when in fact, it didn’t kill Eminem, at all. It just predicted a favourable possible outcome for it happening

This isn’t an underappreciated part but I need to bring it up. They straight up killed Eminem (this happened in the book too like Ned u good?)

‘Our future is so clear’ is Brooke thinking about her and Jeremy’s future together?

Whatever her and the SQUIP are doing to Jeremy to make him question his sexuality

WILL C LEGIT SOUNDS LIKE A YOUNG BOY OR A GIRL WHEN HE REPEATS THE ‘UPGRADE’S

Jake is a good boyfriend if kinda a dick at points

Jake Boyd can fuck me up

Eric going l o w when singing with Jeremy at the ‘Christiiiiine’ part

Jeremy gets overwhelmed by voices in his head

The SQUIP is okay to just...leave Jeremy’s head

Michael gets genuinly sassy when he’s upset

Despite Jeremy ignoring him all day, he’s still super excited and happy for Jeremy when he finds that the SQUIP worked

Jeremy literally stating that being honest doesn’t get him anywhere

How we never see Michael’s reaction to Jeremy optic-nerve blocking him? Like, we don’t know if he was sad or angry or confused or all three?

Brooke is a flirt when it coms to Halloween costumes

Jake has...a condom. As if that’s the only thing he’s bringing to the party

Rich has an older brother! Who happens to have a Jason mask

Also, a loaf of bread...

Jeremy being a n e r d with his costume

Apparently the SQUIP wears a Matrix costume?? There’s no bootleg with that footage but wow

Jake not understanding how to treat his girlfriend 101

Rich getting sad during the last ‘It’s Halloween’s

Chloe thinks Jeremy is cute

Chloe is, indeed, probably worse then Madeline when it comes to the sluttiness

Jeremy trying his best to be kind and polite even when Chloe’s pretty much on top of him

Chloe’s ‘flask’ is a baby bottle

THE SQUIP MAKES JEREMY DRINK IT CHLOE DOESN’T FORCE HIM

They actually kiss

The SQUIP actually speaking correct Japanese (and Eric speaking it well)

Chaos

Michael thinks his ‘clever disguise’ isn’t clever at all, judging by his tone

Jeremy and Michael had been friends for 12 years

Joe T took the part in the book where Michael said his BROTHER took a SQUIP and changed it so that someone ELSE’S brother took it instead (side note, this probably makes more sense considering Michael has two mums)

Michael thinks that Jeremy just wants sex with Christine

Will C’s acting is oof so good

Apparently Michael makes a lot of awkward movements with his arms during Michael In The Bathroom, which I find interesting

Also apparently Chloe’s the one knocking?

The scene where Jeremy and Christine talk o the couch

How upset Christine is that Jake and Chloe are having sex, so maybe Christine saw their relationship as more then just romantic...?

‘Popular people are messed up!’ Christine isn’t popular

The monster on the couch making weird noises along with Christine and Jeremy, and all of them laughing

Christine pretty much admitting that she may have feelings for Jeremy, too

Ok I wanted to make a post about this by itself but I need to mention it here, too. When Jeremy says ‘I thought we were friends’, do you hear how angry he sounds? How...almost selfish he sounds? It’s like the SQUIP made him act like he was entitled

The fact that apparently Rich wasn’t drunk or high during the party, so his actions were done while he was sober

Jenna’s ‘WAaAaAoOoHh’

Chloe straight up lying to Brooke about the sexcapade for the sake of them to maintain their friendship

How quick Brooke is to forgive her

How scarily accurate school tragedies are treated during The Smartphone Hour? Like, people make a big deal out of it, only because it’s drama. Like, seriously, the ‘R-I-C-H, can’t you see just how much I love your tragedy?’ almost gave me chills

Jenna, Chloe and Brooke all say Rich is their best friend for no reason? They just say it just ‘cause? What’s up with that huh

Mr Heere is so broken and lazy that he doesn’t even know his own son is starring in a play

How they kept the SQUIP giving Jeremy instructions, like, they didn’t forget about that good job Joe

Jeremy can drive, apparently? Unless that was the SQUIP’s doing like in the book

Jeremy sounds so frustrated with his dad for all the times he wasn’t there for him, due to his mother leaving. In my opinion? He totally deserved to say that

Paul sounds like he’s crying when the first part of ‘The Pants Song’ is playing?

HE LEAVES THE HOUSE WITH NO PANTS MR HEERE ARE YOU GOOD

What shirt is Michael even wearing

He and Jeremy like Weird Al!

The fact Michael tries to hide the blunt from Mr Heere

The fact that Mr Heere thinks its incense

When Mr Heere says ‘do you love him?’ and Michael responds with ‘...what?’ he doesn’t sound like he’s been caught, it sounds more like he’s genuinly confused as to why he was asked that, so maybe it wasn’t intended to be romantic?

Mr Heere calls Jeremy a little shit and I love that so much

Michael is aware of how much of a ‘not-dad’ Mr Heere has been and calls him out on it

Again, how school tragedies are really treated is scarily accurate. It’s clear Christine’s saying what she’s saying because obviously you’re an asshole if you ignore the person in the hospital from a fire, even if you never talked to them

‘Break a leg!’ ‘Not cool’

Jeremy saying that Christine didn’t help him figure himself out, right after she asked. Wow Jeremy way to be an ass

Mr Reyes being the understudy for two characters like damn

(I forgot to talk about The Pitiful Children so I’ll talk about it here) how quickly Jenna is ready to take a SQUIP, thinking it’s a drug

The SQUIP thinks that showing sadness is a human error

ALSO FORGOT TO MENTION THIS EARLIER BUT THE SQUIP WEARS DIFFERENT OUTFITS

How Joe T literally couldn't’t make it anymore obvious that the drink for the play was gonna SQUIP the whole cast

Mr Reyes wants to go to Broadway

The SQUIP’s mock sigh

Michael literally refusing to give Jeremy the MDR ‘cause he wants an apology

The SQUIP blocks Jeremy from speaking

How they’re both arguing while the SQUIP makes Jeremy physically fight Michael

Michael likes to eat eel

Jeremy and Michael are jealous of each other

Oh yeah uh Michael is high throughout all of this

How Will C’s voice breaks when he says ‘I’m SORRY!’

‘Actually, that doesn’t sound weird at all’ Jake what do you like to watch online

Jake says ‘Upgrade! Upgrade! GOD, I love me!’ 

Chloe thought Jeremy slept with Brooke

Michael doesn’t like girly stuff by his ‘ugh...’

Jenna seems to have been given the power to tell what happens through her mind or something?

When Christine sings about wanting to be with Jeremy. I’m like 95% sure that’s not just her SQUIP telling her to say that

Jeremy made Christine drink the MDR, not knowing that it was gonna get rid of all of the SQUIPS. He willingly offered to sacrifice his happiness and freedom for the sake of freeing Christine. If y’all think that he just has some sorta puppy crush on her, I don’t know what to think

Not super unappreciated but Michael screaming with the others ‘cause he’s freaked out

How casual Rich is when Jeremy wakes up in the hospital

Rich decribes the SQUIP as a ‘shiny, happy hivemind’ 

Rich refers to himself by his full name, and not just ‘Rich’

How quick he is to assume Michael is Jeremy’s boyfriend

‘I’m sure some special someone will be lucky to have you, Rich’ is Michael hinting at something, here?

How fucking excited Michael gets when talking about how the SQUIP was destroyed. Like, this boy loves tech and science so much!!

When Jeremy asks why Michael came to help him even after all the stuff he did, Michael immediately responds by saying his dad also helped.

Jeremy sounds like he’s happy crying when he sees his dad

‘It’s reassuring. He still doesn’t know anything about girls’ most people take this line as Michael saying he’s happy ‘cause maybe he has a chance with Jeremy. I think it was originally written as a sorta ‘oh, good, he still doesn’t know about girls, the SQUIP didn’t change him too much’

Mr Heere is legit good at romantic advice

Michael gives not very good advice, presumably because he, too, doesn’t know a thing about girls

‘Tell her that the exthites you thexthually’

The fact that Chloe mentions doing ecstasy is a cool nod to the book

Jeremy is, indeed, an acne boi

Jake is almost as 90s as Michael

The fact that Christine’s original SQUIP was Hilary Clinton raises a lot of questions

Since there’s no visual aid for this, I’m just going by what I’ve heard. Apparently, after Christine agrees to go on a date with Jeremy, HE KISSES HER.

Jeremy proudly confronts the SQUIP. You go boi

Holy FUCK this list was way longer than I thought but it was worth it. I wanna draw stuff for some of these moments in the future damn

[the-still-small-voice]

Permission to Create

There is an epidemic taking place. I’ll limit my judgement to American culture, since it’s the one I grew up in. I’m aware there are exceptions to the rule, but the toxicity seems to begin at the root. Not only did I grow up in America, but in the great and restless state of New Jersey, which often epitomizes the very problem I’m here to address: Creatives feel they are no longer “allowed” to create.

I started singing and performing for family members when I was three years old. I dedicated the foot of our family staircase as my stage. It was the same staircase where I first faced mortality. My mother sat me down at two years old to tell me about the death of a family member. It’s a moment I still remember despite being so young, and it was a peculiar foreshadowing of my later inclination to turn heartache into song.

Around ten, I began writing in the front yard of our suburban house, complete with white-picket fence. I had no instrument other than my voice and no concept of the “right way” to write a song, but I loved making lines rhyme over melody, and that was enough.

One night, while asleep at thirteen, I had a defining dream that I could play guitar fluidly. I was sitting in the entryway of my childhood church and people were coming from opposite directions - the outside doors and the sanctuary doors - to sit around me on the floor and listen. I woke up and told my parents. It inspired my dad to buy me my first guitar, and despite all previous attempts to play, this time it stuck. I spent hours in my bedroom learning songs and writing my own. I had no teacher - I just learned whatever I needed to learn for the next thing I was trying to do. Then, naturally, I recorded videos of the songs and sent them to whichever boy I happened to be interested in.

In my mind, there was never another option for what I’d do with my life. I tried exploring the music realm for something worthy of a college major, but I had no interest in teaching. I didn’t know how to locate a four-year college with a great recording program, and thank God, because otherwise, I’d be in-debt for an education I could’ve gotten on YouTube before proving myself someone’s worthy unpaid intern.

I love education. I love learning and reading about all topics (minus math). I won’t sit here and pretend I don’t care what people think, but when it comes to maintaining the status-quo, I’ve always erred on the side of rebellion (sometimes to my detriment, though often to my benefit). I never saw the logic in paying $20,000 - $40,000 per year for an education that wasn’t even streamlined in the direction I hoped to go (rock-stardom) in order to satisfy my high-school guidance counselor.

(Side-note: I swear to God, if Belmont University offered a “Rockstar 101” class, they could probably afford to purchase the rest of Nashville within the first year.)

So there I was, left with no formula, in a section of the country that isn’t exactly defined by it’s creative endeavors once you remove the majestic works of Bruce Springsteen and Jon Bon Jovi. I was incredibly lucky to have parents who supported me both in music and in finances, but they also wanted me to learn how to function in everyday life. This resulted in their emphasizing what I considered to be petty nuisances; things such as: budgeting, household chores, and holding down a day-job.

My brain was so caught up in the philosophical (and episodes of Laguna Beach), that I struggled with the idea of simple day-to-day responsibilities (still do). I saw my parents’ attempts to teach me the benefits of discipline as nagging, and it paralyzed me. I assumed I must have been devastating them with my irresponsibility. Really, they wanted to cultivate my potential.

I didn’t have any notion for how fiscal responsibility or time management could affect my creative life. I was seventeen! I was trying to write sad songs and smoke cigarettes to fit in (and not fit in). I didn’t care about having money for the mere sake of having it, which seemed to be what so many people around me were doing - hoarding their paychecks to feel the illusion of safety that a number on a bank statement could bring. I wanted to play music and see the world. I didn’t have the mental capacity, since the human brain isn’t even fully developed until somewhere around twenty-five, to correlate working a job with pursuing my art. I didn’t contemplate the fact that maybe I’d want to build a home studio one day or buy a house in a city with a booming market so I could save on rent, work less, and write more. If I’m being honest, I still have a really hard time staying motivated, but I’ve learned a few tricks along the way. 

Things like:

1. A Positive Environment Changes Everything.

In Nashville, there’s no end to the misery of the stifled artist. The food industry is one of the best places to work if you’re a touring musician. You have plenty of co-workers to cover shifts, and at some restaurants, six months of reliable service is enough to deify you (or at least grant you the ability to ask for favors), but they can also be a real soul-sucker. Aside from grown men pitching fits over untimely refills on their Diet Cokes, I can recall a co-worker whose hours were triple my own. He was working to pay off loans from the aforementioned university, and now he didn’t even have time to make the music he’d spent $200,000 to study.

As much as I sympathize with the over-worked creative, submersing yourself in an environment of people who’ve had their dreams crushed can be toxic to your own. They feel they’re no longer permitted to pursue what they once loved because the so-called “real world” has hit them like a brick to the face. If you’re not careful, you’ll soon find yourself commiserating over one-too-many beers and accepting artichoke dip as the extent of your life’s calling.

You are an artist. That means you are intuitive. If you walk into a job interview and everyone in the building is trudging around grimacing and muttering complaints about their existence, do yourself a favor and find a different place to work. Creativity is energy, and what you spend it on matters.

2. Your Time is Valuable.

I’m twenty-eight years old with over fifteen years of childcare experience. I’m CPR certified and trained in First Aid, yet I still have a hard time asking for more than $12 an hour to keep people’s children from sticking their fingers into electrical sockets. Meanwhile, the average cocktail costs $12 and takes about fifteen minutes to disappear. I’m afraid of “offending” someone, even subtly, by stating my own worth, and THAT, my friends, is half the reason why the music industry has gone to shit, in my humble opinion.

Thankfully, artists are resilient. We find uncanny ways to support ourselves in order to keep creating, even if it involves borderline pleading with our friends to pre-order an album or trading gear on craigslist to make ends meet. Then, after all the effort, we have the privilege of listening to our extended family members complain about how we’re “always asking for something on ‘The Facebook’.”

The South lends itself to a sense of community, but in the region where I grew up, asking for help was often equated with weakness. You don’t borrow your neighbor’s lawnmower. Instead, you work until you can buy a brand new one, preferably nicer than theirs.

All this to say: you are allowed to put a price on the things you need to do to survive in order to alleviate pressure from the things you want to do. You’ll have more time to create and you’ll feel less drained. I am by no means claiming you should do your day job and then give away your creative endeavors for free (a sure way to be taken advantage of), but you will do some of your best work when paying your rent isn’t hanging in the balance. As time passes, if you stick to your guns, you’ll find people who are more than willing to pay you for your skillset because your experience and passion will be evident, shining through in conversation. You’ll sound like you know what you’re talking about because you do know what you’re talking about, and that’s when you quote them exactly what you know you’re worth.   

3. Art is Work

If something takes time and energy, it is work. That’s just science, y’all. When you start pursuing a career and taking risks in your chosen field (i.e. going on a tour, fundraising for a record, or moving to a different city), you WILL encounter naysayers. People who are creatively blocked, or don’t believe themselves to be creative, will inevitably question you. You’re rocking the boat, and it makes them uncomfortable. Some will be inspired by your efforts, while others who haven’t felt inspiration in years, interpret it as condemnation - as if your differing priorities are a subtle attempt to shame their own. Suddenly, you feel obtrusive for simply talking about your dreams.

The easiest way to tell who has an alcohol problem at a party is by casually mentioning you’re not drinking - then wait to see who tries to pour tequila down your throat. It’s the same with risk-taking: the ones who barrage you with questions about how you’ll make money or say things like, “You know, men don’t like strong women”, are the ones subconsciously wondering what might’ve happened if they hadn’t surrendered their entire existence to the promise of a 401K.

Is there anything wrong with a 401K? Of course not. (I had to Google the definition, but it sounds pretty okay!) What’s not okay is acting as the voice of cynicism and chopping away at someone’s dreams just because they chose to take a different, less security-oriented path. Thankfully, we get to choose to ignore those voices.

Work: “Activity involving mental or physical effort done in order to achieve a purpose or result.”

Granted, there is a secondary definition that involves “employment for the sake of earning income”, but the primary definition of work is rooted in a sense of purpose, while the second involves a focus on money. The irony is that so much of what we do to achieve a sense of purpose involves no money, while much of what we do for money seemingly involves no purpose. The goal is to find what inherently gives us a sense of meaning and then, without shame, gradually let the mental and physical effort we put forth provide for us monetarily as well.

We can absolutely pursue our passions while having unrelated day jobs, but there are only 24 hours in a given day, and we should be sleeping for a third of them. If you want your craft to become full-time, you’ll have to channel your energies in a way that eventually releases you from the hours spent wiping tables or sitting in a cubicle. Balancing family life, physical and mental health, and pursuing inspiration in the form of reading, travel, and rest are not luxuries - they are the foundation of a thriving human life. We are allowed to remove what doesn’t serve us or find a way to better make it serve us. For instance: asking for a well-deserved raise so you can spend less hours at work and more hours in a studio or with your children isn’t brash or selfish, it’s actually the most responsible thing.

Here’s what happened to me: I trusted my gut and moved to a different city the week before I turned 22. Shortly thereafter, I started playing shows, making an album, and meeting tons of new people, but I was also a very small fish in a very big pond. This was equally as difficult as it was necessary to my growth as an artist. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve hit what I thought were impenetrable emotional walls trying to salvage a sense of confidence or originality. On any given day, at any given restaurant, I inadvertently share space with Grammy-award winners. I’m not exaggerating - I once showed up to a random babysitting job to find FOUR Grammys sitting on top of their father’s desk. How the hell am I supposed to ever feel like a real musician?

It comes down to this: I choose to. I’m reminded of the truth - that this little indie-artist is just as worthy of the label “musician” as those who’ve won awards or been on television. Plus, If I actually think about it, winning a Grammy has never been a personal goal. So why am I gauging my definition of success against those who have what I don’t even want? I’m a musician because I play music whether or not people are watching.

Now when I go home, the same people who questioned my choices and intentions think I’m living a revolutionary existence simply because I’ve been on a few short (self-booked) tours and saw Kelly Clarkson in person once. The point is: If you learn how to climb the walls, you end up stronger. The naysayers either come around or end up on the other side of the wall. A mere few years after people are done discouraging you for your work, they’ll be applauding you for it, or they just won’t have anything to say at all. You will ALWAYS fall somewhere different on the “success” spectrum depending on where you are and who you are around, but if you haven’t decided you’re allowed to be an artist, you’re going to let other people decide for you - and if you don’t decide to get off of that roller coaster, it’s going to inevitably make you sick.

One more thing:

As artists, we are constantly biting the bullet. We feel anxiety and act in spite of it. We get vulnerable on stages in front of complete strangers. We work for years with no guarantee of money or recognition. We often find ourselves as sacrifices on the altar of opinion without ever asking to be there. We strive to balance strength with sensitivity, but no one gets to tell us we’re lazy.

My band played a show in Atlanta a few weeks ago, and here’s what our day looked like:

-Wake up at 6am to meet at a central location.

-Load gear into the van.

-Drive 5 hours (with stops).

-Meet up with our fill-in keyboardist.

-Unload gear into his house.

-Practice for three hours.

-Re-load gear back into the van.

-Drive to the venue.

-Unload gear out of the van into aesthetically unpleasing green room.

-Set up merch.

-Wait three hours.

-Sound-check.

-Play the show.

-Talk to people and sell merch.

-Reload gear back into the van AGAIN.

-Drive 4 hours back to Nashville.

-Get home at 2am so no one misses work the next day.

I repeat: No one gets to tell us we’re lazy.

4. “What Do You Want?”

I’ve was technically unemployed for the last two months, though not for lack of searching. As of writing this, I’ve been hired at two different coffee shops, but up until a few days ago I’d been forced into limbo - waiting on callbacks or jobs to actually start.

While not-working in the traditional sense, I’ve had time to, yet again, ask myself what I would LIKE to do. I spent much of the last month bouncing between searching for a local day job and pursuing freelance writing jobs online in order to find something that could travel with me.

After a co-writing session that turned into a two hour pep-talk with my friend Sam, I realized I had a knack for coaching people through their creative frustrations and songwriting hurdles. It hit me over the head like a lightning bolt, so naturally I spent the next week trying to find someone to tell me I wasn’t qualified. No one objected. In fact, most everyone I told deeply affirmed the idea with, “You should TOTALLY do that. You’re made for it!” (I have really good people in my life). Now, slowly but surely, I’m being paid to do it for others because I know how to cultivate a safe space for fledgling (or simply intimidated) artists, after having waded through many of the same trenches myself.

If you’re a driven person over the age of twenty-five, there’s a significant chance you have ten to fifteen years of experience doing SOMETHING that someone else is just starting out doing. There’s also a significant chance they’d desperately love to process with someone further along than they are. Again, I don’t have four Grammys on any of my shelves (I barely have shelves), but I do know what it’s like to wonder if my lyrics are worth showing the world, and I do know the paralyzing terror of hearing your voice played back over speakers for the first time.

The question, “What do you want?” is one of the most dangerous and profound questions you can ask or be asked. Growing up in a dysfunctional church environment, I wasn’t allowed to ask it. I was supposed to ask: “What does GOD want me to do?” Conveniently, there were plenty of ill-intentioned leaders eager to answer on behalf of the congregation my family belonged to, and it usually involved God being suddenly strapped for cash.

A poor sense of the nature of God (the Universe, Creator, Energy, or whatever works for your vocabulary) led me to assume I was required to do the complete opposite of whatever I enjoyed.

“I want to play music on stages where people connect with the songs I’ve written. But that’s clearly egotistical. I guess I’ll have to become a missionary to Africa” (crazy how many of those God seems to need per youth group).

“You have free will and God loves you unconditionally…

But that thing you’ve always dreamed of doing? Not allowed.”

What’s the deal with these mixed messages?

Honestly, what’s more egotistical? Wanting to play music in a band, or assuming God needs you to play the martyr because the salvation of Africa hangs in the balance of your life-choices?  Everybody, chill out.

We spend so much time doing things out of guilt. I’m not saying anyone should become intentionally calloused toward the needs of others, but do you really want a bunch of people at your birthday party who feel obligated to be there? The reason we become cynical is due, in-part, to forcing ourselves into environments, boxes, and facades we were never designed to be a part of in the first place. Try saying “no” to anything you would have done out of guilt or obligation for one week and watch how much healthier you feel and how much more energy you have. “I don’t want to” is a perfectly acceptable answer, and it will change your life and reshape your priorities faster than you can imagine.

So what if, just what if you were put on this earth to do the very thing you love doing? Far-fetched, I know, but let’s all stop pretending we know what the word “reality” means when few of us have been alive for more than eighty-five years. For God’s sake, we exist on a speck of dust floating through space.

Why not leave this place more beautiful and more inspiring than when we entered it? Can you fathom Michelangelo talking himself out of painting the Sistine Chapel? Imagine if he’d convinced himself to take the “humble-route” and pursued a behind-the-scenes life merely on the basis of comfort, but at the expense of his artistic instinct?

I can almost guarantee, if you’re the type of person who is hyper-concerned about becoming an egotistical maniac, you run little risk of it actually happening. Worry about how you’ll deal with fame when you’re actually famous - otherwise you’re wasting precious energy you could be using to fuel your present work. Plus, the world is already running rampant with much bigger ego-maniacs ruining things. The more you exercise your creative nature, the healthier you become. The healthier you become, the more effortlessly you can benefit those around you. Take a deep breath.

5. It Matters.

There’s enough garbage going on in the world. Any remotely sensitive person could easily fall prey to emotional paralysis simply by looking around for too long.

That’s exactly what happens. Whether it’s the pain of poverty or feelings of inadequacy when surrounded by other artists, we all have a difficult time creating because it feels like an uphill battle with no actual results - especially if we’re prone to discrediting ourselves. In a recent conversation with a beloved friend, he expressed feeling a sense of pointlessness when it came to writing new songs. He wasn’t writing out of a place of sadness anymore, and he felt like anything he could say had already been said by one of his influences with a larger fanbase. As a personal fan of his music, I wanted to take him by the shoulders and shake some sense into him (I probably did).

I don’t care if you think your songs sound similar to someone else’s, there are people in the world who have never even heard of the “someone else” you are familiar with. A younger person may stumble upon your art, allowing you to become one of their influences because they happened to be at the right place at the right time and something in your voice resonated in them. The only way you get to decide who crosses paths with your work is by never putting it out there at all.

Redemption happens when all of the aforementioned garbage gets recycled into something even more extraordinary than it was in the first place.

This is the job of the artist: to open ourselves up like the vessels that we are, letting all the sadness and bullshit and divinity swirl around in us until a song spills out and the paint hits the canvas.

If we don’t, we end up miserable and withholding. The way fireflies light up entire forests simply by offering the individual flecks of light they inherently contain is a profound image of what we’re each endowed with, not just as creatives, but as living and breathing human beings.

6. Don’t Fake It (But For God’s Sake, Please Stop Being So Self-Deprecating).

I have a love/hate relationship with the phrase: “Fake it ’til you make it.” On one hand, I appreciate the concept of cultivating confidence through action, but the word “fake” has a disingenuous ring to it. What we’re actually talking about is a form of hyper-honesty.

Call yourself what you are. Stop pretending you are what you’re not. I am definitely not a surgeon, and pretending to be one would only result in a series of lawsuits. But there are things I can do and don’t do, simply by convincing myself I am not qualified enough despite plenty of evidence to the contrary.

Imposter Syndrome: “a concept describing high-achieving individuals who are marked by an inability to internalize their accomplishments and a persistent fear of being exposed as a ‘fraud’.”

A few years ago, I showed up to a babysitting job I’d found online. A brand new mother had just moved with her husband from New York City and needed some occasional help watching her newborn son. She was a writer for any number of well-known music publications - Nylon, American Songwriter, etc. She’d also started her own Nashville music blog.

Naturally, I was somewhat intimidated, but I was just there to help with the baby - not try to promote myself. I wasn’t even comfortable enough in my songwriting skin to show my music to friends yet - but she politely asked me about my life and I mentioned it in passing.

One afternoon, after watching one of her artist interviews get derailed by technical difficulties, I sat down with my new journalist friend and her colleague as they drank a glass of wine and I held the baby. I commiserated, while trying to convince them it hadn’t gone nearly as badly as they thought it had. We chatted for a while when, out of nowhere, she directed a question at me:

“You said you play music right?”

“Uhh...yeah?” I said nervously. (I knew exactly where this was going.)

“Will you play us a song? I’m gonna go grab my husband’s guitar.”

“You really don’t have to...”, but she was upstairs before I had time to talk her out of it.

She came back downstairs, acoustic guitar in hand, and I nervously chose one of my songs to play while I kept my eyelids tightly sealed. After all was said and done, both women looked at me dumbfounded. They’d really liked it, and the novelty of living in a city where your babysitter doubles as a decent songwriter hadn’t worn off yet (after a few years, we all safely assume our Uber driver has played Conan at least once).

Without reading a single blog I’d ever posted, hearing another song, or even knowing my education level, she offered me the opportunity to write for her website. It could be as often or as little as I wanted, and while she couldn’t pay me, she could get me into nearly any show I wanted to cover for free.

I took her up on the offer, and what started as free entry into shows turned into, “Hey, do you want to grab a quote from the artist? Here’s their contact email”.

The first time this happened, it was literally hours before the show, and I boldly decided I was going to ask for a full-on interview and see if I could get away with looking like I knew what the hell I was doing. That night, I proceeded to interview Andrew Joslyn, violinist and head of Passenger String Quartet, who were touring as David Bazan’s backing band at the time. Our interview struck up a friendship and resulted in eating late-night food with everyone after the show.

After the first impromptu interview went well, I was asked if I wanted to interview the band Copeland. I recorded the answers to their questions on my shattered iPhone 4 and again, felt the high of an opportunity I had zero formal education in. There are people who go to college for years just hoping to sit down with an artist they respect in order to write a piece and see it published. I was doing it because I’d shown up to the right babysitting job and someone decided to tell me I could be a writer if I wanted to be. All I had to do was take her up on the offer and not shy away from it.

It happened again a few weeks ago. I was able to walk into Grimey’s Record Store an hour before the band Manchester Orchestra released their newest album. I chatted with a bunch of high-profile music industry people (only because I have no idea who they are when I start talking to them). I even got up the nerve to ask Andy Hull for a few words, all while secretly tipping my hat to my teenage self.

And guess what? No one cared. No one kicked me out or said, “Hey, I can’t put my finger on it, but you seem like you don’t belong here.” I was doing exactly what I was there to do. The only person who thought I was getting away with anything was me. I even ran into a friend who’d been specifically hired by the band (and previously, many other reputable artists) to take photos at the cd release. We shared a mutual moment of: “How did we end up here?” 

If I had decided “I’m not a writer, I don’t know how to do this,” or shied away from drafting an email to someone’s publicist for fear of not sounding professional enough, I’d have missed out on these rare chances to ask artists who make me want to play music, what makes them want to play it.

The moral of the story isn’t to name drop or look “cool” (spoiler alert: I’m not). It’s no exaggeration when I say that, immediately after that cd release show I headed to a pet-sitting job to scoop cat litter. Life is interwoven with highs and lows, and misery stalks you the moment you begin over-identifying with any title. But I think maybe, if we took all of the energy we spend on trying to make our lives appear a certain way, and funneled it into saying “yes” to what we’re actually passionate about, we’d be astounded at the places we find ourselves and the (sometimes, very specific) gifts we are handed.

So if you have something you love doing, the only pretending involved is saying you don’t love it or you can’t do it. Sometimes you go out on a limb, but more often than not, it pays off. Sometimes you work for years without any pay all, but it doesn’t mean you aren’t deserving of the title, the same way the title “Mother” and “Father” don’t come attached to a salary.

Stay humble. Take the good with the bad. Successes are often followed by a litter box that needs cleaning. Don’t forget about the people who love you regardless of social standing. Know your worth is inherent and not dictated by what you do. If this sounds reasonable, then by all means, just go do the damn thing.

7. Pay Attention

The mundane is not my forte. In fact, I can book entire tours and endless road trips simply to avoid the dreaded monotony of everyday life. In part, it’s human nature - familiarity can breed contempt, but only if you let it.

It’s too easy to cop out of life when it isn’t exciting. Rather than defining the act of “growing up” as a mandatory selling of your soul to the corporate gods, what if we saw it as true maturity - a realization that the good and the bad aren’t always so cut and dry. In the previous story about how I fell into music blogging, I can almost guarantee that, while driving to babysit, I was thinking: “How much longer do I have to do these peasant jobs before I get to do something distinguished and significant?”

Well, years later, I’m still babysitting people’s kids and scooping cat litter. But I’ve also interviewed bands, toured with my own music, and now help people work through their artistic paralysis. If I’d been above taking care of someone’s son (a pretty significant job, actually), I wouldn’t have crossed paths with the same opportunities, or maybe I would have been too apathetic to recognize the things that were unfolding in ways I wouldn’t have predicted.

But let’s forget about the future for a moment.

Nothing is guaranteed. We are free to dream or watch television, go to church or not go to church, talk to the homeless person or walk past them because we don’t know how to respond. We will make mistakes. We will feel ill-equipped. We will tragically lose loved ones and wonder if there’s even a point in trying. Then, we may see art blossom from the depths of despair - not because we were aiming to make a concept album, (our minds wouldn’t dare to prostitute the heartache) but rather because, “art is born in attention.” - Julia Cameron, The Artist’s Way

Cameron goes on to say:

Art may seem to spring from pain, but perhaps that is because pain serves to focus our attention onto details (for instance, the excruciatingly beautiful curve of a lost lover’s neck). Art may seem to involve broad strokes, grand schemes, great plans. But it is the attention that stays with us; the singular image is what haunts us and becomes art. Even in the midst of pain, this singular image brings delight. The artist who tells you different is lying.

We don’t need to be sad to make art.

We simply need to be paying attention.

Maybe you’re up every day at the crack of dawn opening a coffee shop. You have five minutes to yourself before your co-workers all show up. You’re thinking about how much longer you can “keep doing this shit,” when you happen to notice the streaks of pink sky out the window as the sun is coming up. You take a deep breath. The steam from the coffee billows around your hands and the smell suddenly reminds you of a camping trip you took with your dad when you were seven.

Inspiration is limitless. It is unwarranted and uncontrolled. It seeps in like water and saturates anything even remotely permeable. So we must remain permeable, present, and open-handed. Yes, there is benefit to having discipline in order to actively create (the only reason I was able to drag myself out of bed and into writing today), but if you aren’t allowing inspiration in, what can you expect to put forth? If you can’t take a moment to breathe, even in the midst of work - to thank life for a second of stillness and for letting you be a part of it, then your attempts at productivity will likely be met with frustration.

It is in your nature to create. You think it’s in your nature to work a desk-job you hate for nine hours a day for the rest of your life. You think doing so is “responsible”, but if you really contemplate it, it doesn’t make any sense.

You are a living organism - more closely related to a plant than to a robot. If you act in accordance, you’ll see what happens when you begin trusting yourself to do what you were born to do. You’ll see what happens when, instead of making assumptions about coworkers, you realize they each contain a universe within themselves and have a story to tell. Unexpectedly, you not only see them through a new lens, but you see yourself differently. Your spine straightens with a sense of purpose and you go home to channel what you’ve seen, heard, and tasted so tangibly all day into something that might even move someone else, should they choose to pay attention.

The only moment that exists to us is the one we are experiencing right now, so do your best to honor it. Stop trying to fix the past or manipulate the future. Each moment is building toward something greater than itself, but if we try to rush the process, our foundation gets half-built and the entire thing collapses on itself.

Instead, slow down. Look around. Take a deep breath.

We are overwhelmingly surrounded by wonder.

For creative coaching, email:  Christiana.Benton@gmail.com

[blackreaders-assemble]

I posted the second chapter to Parenting 101 for Rockstar Dads!

YAY!!

[siriuslycollins-blog]

Parenting 101 For Rockstar Dads

Nessa Arceneaux (August 17, 1971- July 15, 1992) - Jared Leto’s first love, childhood best friend, and mother of his daughter Kaela. Originally from Lake Charles, Louisiana, she moved to Bossier City as a child where she met the soon-to-be father of her daughter. Their friendship grew for a decade but Nessa and Jared kept losing touch as the latter was always moving around; in the summer of 1989 the reconnected, going from friends to more than friends. In the fall of 1991, Nessa became pregnant with their daughter and died a few days after giving birth. Alive, Nessa was a beautiful black woman with a talent and passion for painting and music, playing the piano in her grandparents’ church. Until her death, Nessa was a student at Southern University at Shreveport, majoring in Early Childhood Development with a minor in Social Work and was a member of the school’s dance team. She was very popular and very involved in her school and community.

The Beginning - Fall 1991

Twenty year old Nessa Arceneaux paced the living room of her apartment as she waited for her boyfriend Jared to get home from work. Every few minutes, she kept pulling out the black and white pictures just to confirm what she thought was a dream: that she was in fact pregnant. Nessa’s heartrate picked up every time she heard a car pass by on the road thinking it was him. Was she ready for this? Were they ready for this?

Nessa was a college student who had just turned twenty two months ago and just started her junior year while Jared was still nineteen and working odd jobs after he dropped out of art school. How were they supposed to take care of a baby? What was Nessa’s family going to say? Nessa put the photos back in her jeans pockets after studying the gray blob that would soon be a baby. She concentrated on cooking dinner, taking extra care to chop up vegetables for the soup she was making; she almost sliced her finger open when she heard Jared’s keys turning in the lock.

“Nessa? Nessa, are you here?” she heard him call out. “In the kitchen!” she yelled back. Jared wrapped his arms around her waist as he pressed kisses to her neck. “What are you doing home so early? I thought you had that study group for midterms.” She turned the heat up on the stove as she dumped the vegetables and dumplings into the broth.

“Turns out half the class is out with the flu, so it’s just independent study.” Jared washed his hands before grabbing a juice box from the fridge. “I hope it isn’t that stomach flu you have. Looks like Shannon is coming down with it too. Baby, you should really see a doctor about that.” Nessa stirred the contents of the pot with a wooden spoon before turning to her boyfriend. “Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. You should probably sit down for this.”

Jared was confused but sat down at the table anyway. “Okay... what do you wanna talk about?” “I wanted to talk about this,” Nessa answered, reaching into her back pocket for the ultrasound pictures and handed them to him; Jared’s blue eyes widened as he realize what he was looking at. “Nessa. A-are these... what I think they are?” Jared had never given much thought about fatherhood, he was still young but he never saw himself becoming a dad.

He didn’t exactly have the best examples growing up. “Yeah. We’re gonna have a baby. Are you mad at me?” When Jared looked up, she was crying, and he quickly took her in his arms. “Oh baby, why would I be mad?” They pulled back and he wiped her tears away. “I-it’s just t-that we never really talked about it much, so I just assumed that you didn’t want that.”

“Hey, Nessa, look at me. I never thought much about being a dad because I didn’t think I’d be a good one. You know I never had any luck with ‘em.” Jared thought back to his biological father who walked out after he was born; Tony Bryant later remarried and had two more kids before he died when Jared was a kid. Then his mom got remarried to a man named Carl who gave him and his brother Shannon his last name, and Jared finally felt like he had a dad, just like the kids he went to school with; then his mother and Carl got a divorce and he was back to square one, fatherless. “So you really want to keep it?” Nessa asked, sniffling a little.

“Of course I do! That’s my kid!” After the hysterics were out of the way, they talked about how to tell their families that a baby was on the way. “Does anyone else know?” Jared asked as they sat down to dinner. “Well, Jackie knows since she came with me to the appointment, and your mom, but she guessed it before I could tell her.” Nessa had told him about how she went over to Constance’s after her appointment to share the news but the older woman had already figured it out. When Nessa had asked how she knew, Constance only laughed at her and said, “by the time I was your age, I already had two toddlers. I’ve been in your position. Twice.”

Constance had then started crying about how happy she was to be a grandmother. Jared knew how much his mom loved Nessa, even treating her as a daughter and always saying how good she was for him. Before he and Nessa began dating, Jared was always out at all hours of the night after he dropped out of school and getting into trouble with the law. He had turned his life around, getting a job, and growing up to be the man he thought Nessa deserved to be with. Constance hoped that the baby would push them in the direction of the altar.

“How about next weekend we drive down to Lake Charles to tell my family?” If Jared wasn’t nervous about being a father, he was certainly nervous about telling the Arceneaux family. Her family, especially her grandparents, were very old fashioned, the type who believed in going to church every Sunday and didn’t approve of having kids before marriage. They were yes ma’am, no ma’am, yes sir, no sir kind of people, so in an essence, Jared would be their worst nightmare, even though Jared got on well with her parents. It was Nessa’s grandparents he had to impress, specifically her grandmother.

Nessa could see Jared was nervous about meeting her extended family. “Please babe? Fore me?” She gave him the puppy dog face that she knew he couldn’t resist, and saw his resolve cracking. “Okay, fine, you win. You always do.” Nessa smiled her bright white smile and slid herself across his lap. 

“Everything will be fine Jay. My grandparents are stubborn, but I’m sure they’ll love you. And my aunts and uncles and cousins too.” “We’ll see about that,” Jared mumbled against her lips.

@blackreaders-assemble

[siriuslycollins-blog]

Parenting 101 For Rockstar Dads

CH. 3- The One Where Everything Is Not Okay Pt 1

Warnings: medical malpractice, child birth, loss of blood, and death

Nessa’s pregnancy wore on throughout the fall and into the winter and spring. Jared and Nessa were having a girl and they had settled on the name Kaela, Kaela Dominique Leto; a lot had changed from the time of the pregnancy announcement such as Jared and Nessa turning the second bedroom of their apartment they used for storage into a nursery, Jared’s older brother Shannon crashing on their couch and Nessa being officially on maternity leave from school and work. She hated it, and with Jared and Shannon at work, she was absolutely bored. With summer in full swing, it was way too hot to do anything, and Nessa had very little energy. Her days consisted (sometimes) making breakfast for herself, Jared and Shannon, watching soap operas as she painted or knitted, fetching the mail, and concluding the day with a treat from the ice cream truck.

Jackie would come by after work or practice to keep her company until the guys came home. One Monday evening, she had stopped by after dance practice while Jared and Shannon were out at the laundromat. “Oh Nessa, I swear on everything I love, I’ll beat the fuck out of Lisa Russell! She gettin’ on my last damn nerve,” Jackie vented. When Nessa announced her pregnancy to the SUSLA dance team, her backup, Lisa had taken her place. It should’ve been a surprise that Lisa had even made the team in the first place, seeing as she couldn’t dance for shit, but she had rich parents, so it wasn’t really.

“The other girls are threatening to quit the team until you come back.” Nessa listened as her best friend cursed Lisa to the high heaven, never once losing steam until Shannon walked in carrying his laundry basket. The two of them were definitely checking each other out, until Jared bumped into him. “Dude, you gotta move. These mosquitos are eating me alive.” Ever since Shannon moved in, Jackie always hung around longer than necessary, and they were getting especially close.

Nessa liked the idea of Kaela’s godmother and uncle growing closer, but Jackie has a boyfriend who is absolutely wonderful, and for that reason, she only hoped that they were only getting to know each other because of the baby. Shannon plopped down in between them and threw an arm around Jackie’s side of the couch. “That’s cool, it’s not like I’m carrying your niece or anything.” They completely ignored her as they launched into their conversation; no matter how many times Jared and Nessa tried to include themselves in the conversation, Shannon and Jackie always managed to drift back to their own world. Jackie ended up staying for dinner, and the only time she and Shannon stopped talking was when either of them took a bite of their pizza.

“So Jackie, how’s Will doin’?” Nessa asked; she briefly wondered if her friend forgot that she even had a boyfriend. “Oh! Uh... he’s okay. Just really busy with summer practices so I haven’t been seeing him much lately.” Nessa saw the disappointed look on Shannon’s face but he still asked, “who’s Will?” “Just a guy she’s been seeing for a while.” He didn’t say anything after that, and the rest of dinner was quiet and a bit awkward. 

Jackie let at almost eight o’clock, saying she had to get up early, which was a lie, and even after she left Shannon was still quiet. “Shan, are you okay?” Jared asked his brother carefully. “What? Yeah, I’ll be fine, I’m just tired. I just want to go to bed. Had a long day.” Nessa and Jared went in the back to their bedroom and got ready for bed. “See Jared! I told you he has a thing for her! And she definitely likes him too!”

“Nessa baby, we’ve been through this. Shan and Jackie are going to be Kaela’s godparents. Of course they’re getting close.” Nessa only rolled her eyes as she put her hair up and put on her bonnet. “You saw how upset he was when I brought up Will.” She wasn’t even sure if Jackie even liked Will the way he liked her as she always seemed annoyed by him. “Let’s just go to sleep. You have your last doctor’s appointment before Kaela comes, first thing in the morning.”

Nessa still couldn’t believe that she was going to be a mom, that she was going to bring a child into the world with the love of her life; absolutely mind boggling. Everything was ready for her, the crib assembled and filled with stuffed animals and other things she might need, and a closet filled with pink outfits. She went into labor on July 13th, at 5:30 am which threw Jared and Shannon into a frenzy. They were both running around like chickens with their heads cut off as they made last minute plans; Shannon grabbing the hospital bag and putting in more things that might be needed and starting the car while Jared called everyone he knew. Turns out that Kaela was a very impatient baby, and by the time they made it to the hospital, Nessa was just about ready to push.

Finally, at 7:30 a.m. Kaela Dominique Leto made her grand entrance, weighing in at four pounds even. She had brown skin, a head of dark curls and the biggest brown eyes Jared had ever seen, and for the second time in his life, he fell in love. The placenta was delivered soon after, and that’s when everything went to hell. Nessa’s regular doctor was out of town due to a family emergency, so her replacement was a balding white man in fifties who brushed off Nessa’s concerns about bleeding after delivering the placenta. “Don’t worry Miss Arceneaux, the bleeding will stop soon.” The doctor had the nurses put some gauze to stop the blood flow but Nessa was losing her color and energy, fast. Jared was getting pissed; clearly there was something wrong with his girlfriend. Why wasn’t the doctor taking this seriously?

“Dr. Archibald, there is something wrong with her! Do something!” By this time Constance and Jackie had made it to the room, only to see Shannon holding Jared back as he was yelling at the doctor with Nessa running a finger over Kaela’s soft cheek; neither women had ever seen Nessa look like this. Of course it was normal to not look your best after giving birth, but it looked like someone had dimmed the lights from within. Nessa gave them a weak smile and they slowly walked over to her. Shannon had escorted Jared and Dr. Archibald into the hall, closing the door so the women wouldn’t have to hear it.

“Nessa, she’s absolutely beautiful,” Constance whispered. She couldn’t believe that she was a grandmother, but here she was, holding her new granddaughter Kaela. Surely this had to be a dream; she and Jackie took turns holding the baby, and it was a while before Shannon and Jared came back. They had plastic bags of food and they sat them down on the rolling table. “Nessa baby, you need to eat something, get your strength back up,” Jared told her.

Eating seemed to do something good for her, and her blood pressure seemed to return to normal after drinking a few ounces of orange juice. Nessa’s family came later in the day to fawn over the baby while Jared went to see about a birth certificate; when he came back, his eyes were red, he looked tired and a piece of paper in his hand. Jared looked over and saw his daughter in one of those makeshift cribs, sleeping peacefully. “Jay, why are you crying? Everything is fine. I’m okay,” Nessa assured him. He wiped the remaining tears away with the back of his hand and began kissing her face. 

“I thought I almost lost you Nessa. It was horrible.” Jared was shaken to his core, and the thought of losing the love of his life scared the shit out of him; he wanted to live out the rest of his life with her. Which reminded him... he still had the ring in his pocket, a ring he’s had for months. Of course the two had never talked about marriage, Jared had been too chicken to bring it up, but now that their daughter was here, now was a perfect time. “You’re not gonna lose me Jay.”

Jared felt like crying again, but his eyes were sore and he didn’t know if he could produce more tears; he felt like he’d done enough crying to last him twenty years. “Nessa, it was bad, and that doctor, I wanted to fucking punch him.” He could feel his throat close up again, and he focused on Shannon holding Kaela, with Jackie begging for a turn again. “It’s my turn Shannon. You’ve had her for ten minutes already.” Constance, Jared and Nessa had to step in to get the two to stop bickering.

“Come on you two, knock it off! She’s only three hours old and these are not the first sounds she should be hearing!” Constance’s tone was enough to make Shannon be quiet after Jackie called him a name. “Shan, Jackie’s right, you’ve had your turn. Give the baby to her.” He settled his niece in Jackie’s arms who had the biggest smile on her face. A few hours later, everyone had to go back to work, except for Jared who had some time off, so now he and Nessa finally had time to themselves to admire their daughter alone. 

The new parents couldn’t believe that their baby was real, they were actually looking at her, and yet it still felt like they could wake up at any moment. Kaela was, without a doubt the most perfect baby in the world; as Jared watched over his sleeping daughter, he felt a flash of anger. Here he is, holding this miracle he helped create, the thought of leaving her behind too painful to even fathom, and yet Tony Bryant had no problem leaving his two boys behind. He looked over at Nessa, who was staring at him holding Kaela. She looked tired, tired but happy, and Jared knew that now was the perfect time to ask her to spend the res of her life with him.

“Nessa, I love you so much, I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I won’t question it.” He sat Kaela back down in her cradle thing so he could get the ring from his pocket, and when Nessa realized what he was doing, she gasped. “Jared, are you doing what I think you’re doing?” Jared didn’t answer her, instead getting down on one knee at the side of her bed. “Vanessa Dominique Arceneaux, will you marry me?” 

Nessa had a smile on her face, the kind of smile that reached the eyes. ��Of course I’ll marry you! I love you so much!” Jared slipped the ring on her finger, and they kissed as Kaela made some noises in her cradle. “Yes, pretty girl, your momma and daddy are getting married,” Jared cooed at the newborn. Jared didn’t expect that their celebration would abruptly end.

Nessa died two days later in her sleep sometime in the early morning. Jared was awoken by the heart monitor flatlining, thinking it was his alarm clock back home before he remembered where he was. It was dark in the room, the curtains drawn and the only light in the room was the monitor and the little sliver of golden light under the door coming from hall. Jared leaped from the couch and into the hallway. “Nurse, nurse! I need a nurse!” The monitor had to be wrong, she was only sleeping...

Doctors and nurses began to rush into the room and Jared was quickly jostled about as they tried to get to her; it took two security guards and a male nurse to calm him down, to assure him that they were doing everything they could to revive her. He was dragged into the waiting area kicking and screaming and crying. He tried to take his mind off what was happening by pacing the floor, listening to the early morning news, but none of that was helping. It was another fifteen minutes before a nurse came into the waiting area to tell him the news, but she didn’t need to, he could see it on her face.

“I’m so sorry Mr. Leto. We tried everything we could. There was one time where we tried the paddles and it worked, but only for a second.” Jared could feel the hot tears streaming down his face and he dropped back into a chair, bending over and grabbing his head, then rocking back and forth. He knew that he should go back in and say goodbye to Nessa but he couldn’t, it would be too real, but his feet moved on their own accord. There she was, his new fiancée lying on her back, eyes closed as if she was sleeping peacefully. Jared grabbed the hand he put the ring on, squeezing it and he just cried.

taglist: @llfd1977 @blackreaders-assemble @itsmeauntie

[siriuslycollins-blog]

Parenting 101 For Rockstar Dads

Ch. 2- Meeting The Family

True to his word, Jared agreed to go to Lake Charles to meet the rest of Nessa’s family and Jackie came along as well; Jackie’s family and Nessa’s family go way back since their grandmothers are best friends and go to the same church. It was a four hour drive from Shreveport to Lake Charles so Jared had quite a bit of time to prepare himself. “Nessa’s family ain’t nothin’ to be scared of. They just old school.” Nessa and Jackie filled him in on the etiquettes of meeting the family. “Make sure you greet everybody, and make eye contact with everyone in the room, cause someone gon feel some type of way if you don’t.”

“Yes ma’am, no ma’am, and no sir, yes sir at the end of every question and answer,” Nessa said as she turned into a gas station; Nessa and Jackie would go in for snack run while Jared would full up he car as everyone takes turns to use the restrooms. As Jackie and Nessa washed their hands, Jackie asked, “so... you think y’all gonna get married?” They threw their paper towels in the overflowing trash can and went out in search of food. “I don’t know Jackie. We barely talk about it, and I don’t wanna be the one to bring it up.” They picked out chips and cookies, and trail mix for Nessa.

Jackie had her hands full with the snacks as Nessa got the drinks. “You about to have his baby and you don’t want to bring up marriage? I think now is a perfect time. Y’all have been together for two years now, and been best friends for longer than that.” The girls paid for their things and walked back put into the cool air. Jared was pumping gas and he smiled as he saw his baby mama walking to him and he could feel a dopy grin spreading on his face. Holy fucking shit did he love this woman.

He finished pumping the gas before running inside to use the restroom and Jackie and Nessa finished their conversation. “Nessa, did you see that look he gave you? He was lookin’ at you like you’re some type of goddess. As if you hung the stars and the moon, and you out here thinkin’ he don’t wanna marry you?” “Jackie, we’re still young though, and I want him to marry me because he wants to, not because we’re about to have a baby.” Jackie rolled her eyes and opened a bag of chips. “I’m sure he was gonna do that anyway. This man really loves you Nessa.”

Nessa was about to answer when Jared came jogging to the car and sliding back in the passenger seat. “So what were you two ladies talking about?” Nessa handed him a package of chocolate chip cookies and a bottle of juice. “Uh. Just some baby names,” she lied smoothly. “Really, already? We have some time before we have to start worrying about that.”

Nessa pulled out of the gas station and back on the road; they were two hours away from her parents’ home. “I know but it’s a big decision to make. Once you name your kid, it’s put into the system, and you can’t just change it if you don’t like it.” She was nervous about naming her child; one small mistake and she might end up ruining their life. “Okay, so what names were you thinkin’ about?” “I really like the name Jordan,” Nessa mused.

Jackie snorted and popped another chip in her mouth. “Because we don’t have enough mixed kids named Jordan,” she muttered and Nessa looked at her through the rearview mirror. “Oh? And what’re your choices?” “If it’s a boy, Austin, if it’s a girl, Natasha.” Jared twisted around in his seat and stared at her.

“Natasha? Seriously? It sounds like either a Russian spy or hooker.” “Or a Russian spy disguised as a hooker,” offered Nessa. “What if they don’t look like a Jordan or an Austin or a Natasha?” Jared wondered. The last thing he wanted was to ruin their life before they even had a chance. He didn’t want to mess it up.

“Well Jared, if you don’t like my names I’d love to hear your picks. Since it’s your child.” “James if it’s a boy and Chloe if it’s a girl.” “They’re not horrible. I was sure you were gonna pick some hippy ass names,” Jackie answered; Jared wanted to mess with her a bit. “Well, now that you mentioned it-” “Jay don’t even think about it. These names are perfect. Well, here we are.”

Her parents’ house was a little ways away from the city, where the houses were spread apart. Jared could see people setting up a grill, and there was a table with a checked tablecloth with food on it, and the music coming from a radio. He could feel his heart beating and he wanted to pass out, but he had to be strong. For him, for Nessa. For his child. The engine cut off and Nessa turned to him

“I promise Jay. Nothing to be scared of.” “As much as I hate to interrupt this sweet moment, can we get out this car before I get a fucking cavity?” Nessa ran her fingers through her ponytail and sighed. “She’s right Jay, it’s now or never.” Jared could also see a bunch of kids running around, chasing each other, fast as their little legs could carry them.

In a few years that would be his own kid, joining their cousins. Jackie was the first one out, scooping up a little boy and swinging him around as she attacked him with kisses. Jared and Nessa got out the car and the boy ran up to Nessa, wrapping his arms around her legs. “Auntie Nessa!” He reached for her to pick him up and she squeezed him tight, the boy looking over her shoulder at Jared.

“Auntie, who dat?” She laughed and set him down. “This is my friend Jared. Jared, this is my godson Anthony. Ant, can you say hi to Jared?” Anthony gave him a shy little wave as he kept one hand on her leg. “That’s better. Where’s ya momma and the rest of them?”

Anthony pointed to the house and pulled on her hand, telling her what was going on. “... Marcus said a bad word at school so Momma gave him a whoppin’ and now he’s in trouble.” “Anthony, I bet not hear anything about you sayin’ stuff like that. You hear me?” Anthony led them to the kitchen where Jackie was already, helping prepare the food. 

“Hey Mama.” Nessa’s mother, Mrs. Arceneaux turned around and gathered Nessa and Jared into a hug; there was a lot of shrieking between the two of them and some more women coming into the kitchen to see what the noise was about. “How come y’all ain’t tell me you were comin’? Your daddy and I woulda had your room prepared and everything!” “We just wanted to surprise you is all,” replied Nessa. Jared met all of Nessa’s family members who passed by the kitchen, doing double takes and probably wondering who the hell this white dude was eating up their food.

At long last, her grandparents came in, and her grandmother stared right at Jared; Nessa took a break from her food to hug them. “Hey Grandma Jo, Grandpa Robert.” “Nessa, baby, I didn’t know you were comin’ down this weekend! Regina, why you ain’t tell me she and Jackie were comin?” “I didn’t know either JoAnne. Y’all want something to eat? Nessa fix your grandparents a plate.” Nessa was about to get up but Grandma Jo declined.

“I’m fine sugar. Just get me a glass of tea. I don’t wanna interrupt you eating. And while you gettin’ my drink, you can tell me who this white boy is.” She made her grandparents’ drinks as she explained. “Grandma, Grandpa, this is my boyfriend, Jared Leto.” Their eyes widened as they took him in. “This is Jared? Regina, I thought you said he was a brother.”

“No JoAnne, I said he has a brother.” Soon word had spread around the house that the white boy Nessa brought home was her boyfriend and everyone had to see if it was true, Jared was interrogated for fifteen minutes on how they met; when they began dating, and why Nessa was just now bringing him around, and they had to tell the truth. “Well the thing is... I’m pregnant.” It was like time had stopped and it was too quiet. Her grandmother was the first to speak.

“Nessa Dominique Arceneaux, do you have any idea what kind of shame you just put on me and your grandfather? What’s the church gonna say when they find out the preacher’s granddaughter is pregnant and unmarried.” Nessa only rolled her eyes and continued eating as everyone started arguing with one another. “They won’t say nothin’ because they’ll be minding their own damn business.” While she was arguing with everyone, Mr. Arceneaux motioned for Jared to follow him outside. It was quiet for a bit as they walked, nothing but the sound of the grass and leaves crunching beneath them.

“You know Jared, when I pictured this moment, I imagined that it would be when Nessa was out of school, married and a little older.” Jared hung his head, his longish hair flopping in his face. “I know sir, but I will marry her Mr. Arceneaux.” Her father nodded, shoving his hands deeper into his coat pockets. “I believe you Jared. Nessa is... very happy with you. But there is something I want you to know.” 

Jared pushed his hair back as they continued walking. “Yes sir?” “I want you to know that you are in fact dating a black woman, your child will be considered black as well.” Of course Jared was aware of Nessa’s race, but he never gave a thought to his child’s race, and Mr. Arceneaux could see that. “You didn’t think about that did you?” “No sir, I haven’t,” he mumbled.

Mr. Arceneaux clapped his hand on Jared’s shoulder in a fatherly way as they continued down the road. “Yes, your child will be mixed race, but the world will only see them as one thing: black. They’ll experience things that you won’t, and there’ll be times when you can’t protect them.” Jared already knew what the soon-to-be grandfather was talking about, he’d seen Nessa go through it. How many times did he see white girls give her the nastiest look when Jared told them he was dating her? The looks they got whenever they were out in public?

Jared felt like an idiot for not even realizing that his child might go through the same thing. He felt his heart break when Nessa’s father said there would be things that he wouldn’t be able to protect them from, but it would be a reality. “I know you’re going to be a good dad Jared. You won’t be perfect but there’s no such thing as a perfect parent. You make the decisions you think are right and hope for the best.” The wind picked up, blowing the brown leaves everywhere and making the trees shake. As they walked back to the house, Jared soaked up every bit of information he could; everyone seemed to calmed down  as they were still gathered around Nessa.

The rest of the weekend was spent getting to know her family better, and like Nessa predicted, everyone warmed up to him and he even played games with the kids. Someone even trusted him enough to hold their baby, it felt right. Maybe he can handle being a father.

[siriuslycollins-blog]

Parenting 101 For Rockstar Dads

just some things jared learned along the way as a single father to a daughter while juggling fame

- do NOT fall asleep around your toddler who just got a new paint set or you WILL wake to a watercolor rainbow on your walls.

- if you must bring your toddler to interviews in the event the daycare closes for any reason at all, and you can’t find anyone to watch your daughter, the interview must either be held at a restaurant that has a kids menu or bring a backpack filled with coloring books and toys to keep her occupied

also accept the fact the journalist will be more interested in the toddler sitting on your lap than the television show you have coming in a few weeks.

she won’t have any memory of this in ten years but at least you have a video of it to reminisce and to maybe embarrass her in front of the boy she might bring home, or her wedding day when the time comes

- do not let your brother use your daughter to pick up women

they will see through it when your daughter calls him uncle

some might stick around, some might not

there will be a few who will only stay just for the little cutie

- when your daughter starts big kid school, it’s probably best to use her mother’s last name if you want privacy.

of course people will figure it out when you show up for parent night 

be prepared for paparazzi to be parked across the street 

- you are NOT built for pta and that’s okay. it doesn’t make you a bad father, just chaperone field trips when you can

you probably won’t be popular with the conservative parents at your daughter’s private school because of the way you dress or your “job” or whatever’s written about you in the media

the kids love you though

- yes, you still need your mom no matter how old you are, especially when your daughter is going through puberty

she is a lifesaver when it’s time to go bra shopping

and when your daughter gets her first period

- your girlfriend and daughter will hang out without you, and that’s perfectly fine

what is not fine is finding out through said girlfriend that your 11 year old has a “boyfriend”

why didn’t she tell you herself?

this when you find out that a preteen will not tell her father everything

- if you bring your daughter to an event, she will make friends with children/younger siblings of celebrities or child celebrities. don’t worry, it’s a good thing!

she’s making friends with people in her own age group and who goes through the same things she does

of course the rumors about you dating the older sister of her new friend  will irritate you but what can you do?

- when boys start to become attractive to your daughter, you might be tempted to strangle the necks of middle school boys. don’t do this.

- in case you were wondering, yes high school is worse

why does there have to be so many dances?

some of these are made up, you’re sure of it

- set the ground rules for boys. boys are not allowed upstairs, no matter the circumstance.

if he wants to take your daughter on a date, he will walk up to the door and ring the doorbell, not honk for her from the car.

of course you will be speaking to the parents of said boy first to confirm and verify where they will be going and at what time

if he has a problem with you chaperoning, she will not be allowed alone with him. end of discussion, no if, ands or buts

- she’s not pushing you away because she wants to, she’s a teenager with an active social life and responsibilities 

if you feel a little left out of her life, talk to her! she probably feels the same way too because of your schedule

offer to treat her friends/teammates to pizza or frozen yogurt sometimes

appreciate the weekend bike rides/hikes/car rides and frozen yogurt. they are numbered

- take as many pictures of her as possible. she may find it annoying when you’re snapping pictures of her as she’s eating breakfast or doing homework but she secretly loves it.

of course you can expect to have pictures taken of you as well

she’s very fond of the ones taken in the studio of you poured over a notebook and of your brother at his drum set

- you will absolutely cry at graduation, and there’s no stopping it

you will also try to fight other parents for the best pictures 

please don’t do this

- be prepared to have her big day and childhood pictures splashed across the media in those slideshow/before and after things

you will definitely look at all of them

wow she looks like her mom

- of course you will start to think about her mom

how different things would’ve been if you had married her

what she would’ve been like as a mother if she had the chance

- you will also cry on her last night at home

she’ll be back for thanksgiving. and christmas and spring and summer break

also you can visit anytime you want

- her college graduation will also hit you pretty hard

but on the bright side it brings her back to l.a.

she’s officially an adult now with a burgeoning career

- oh, and that song you’ve been working on ever since you got to l.a? you finally finished it and gave it a name

city of angels

of course you have your daughter in mind as you watch old videos and look at old pictures

- just because your daughter is almost 30 doesn’t mean your job as a father isn’t done. it will probably never be done

your job now is to impart wisdom

any kind of wisdom

- you now have a travel companion from time to time

and red carpet dates

and sometimes you follow her around her job too

she may have her mother’s looks but that’s your personality through and through

- yes, she’s a grown woman but she’s also still your little baby and nothing is gonna change that.

@echelongaga   more dad!jared details! 

[siriuslycollins-blog]

I think I found the perfect face claim for kaela leto but i’m still torn between kylie bunbury and alexandra ship (even though I can’t stand her colorist behind)

[siriuslycollins-blog]

@llfd1977 @itsmeauntie @blackreaders-assemble @squeackygee new chapter of parenting 101 for rockstar dads coming later tonight