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holidaywishes · 3 years

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and now we’re here

Requested: 👍

Summary/Request: This one is a collab with @kayleafs221! We flash back with (Y/N) after Freddie left her and to her finding out she was pregnant

Author’s Note: We have a part three! I wasn’t going to do more than two but @kayleafs221 wants ✨drama✨ so we’re gonna see what we can conjure up together. We teamed up to see how much drama we could fit in so hopefully it fits the bill. @kayleafs221 also mentioned that she wanted to structure this sort of how New Moon was written so we went with it! Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter and I’ve got one last chapter in me to make it all fluffy and bring these two back together! Stay Golden, loves! <3

masterlist

the other masterlist

It had already been a month. You kept telling yourself you shouldn’t be so devastated but he hadn’t called or even texted. You were alone. He had left you completely alone and he wasn’t coming back. You found yourself curled up in his large hoodie on the bathroom floor for the umpteenth time while your chest tightened with every sob and gasp you took as if he took your lungs with him; falling asleep clinging to the last piece you had of him.

Month 2

You had no choice. You had to throw yourself into work, it was all you could do. Even when you were home, your laptop was out. You let yourself be distracted in any way you could but even that was no use. You had been sick all week and your boss had made you stay home. You didn’t know what to do as you sat on your couch refusing to watch movies because they were all the same. Always a happy ending and the thought of love and sex made you sick, sick to your stomach. You were determined to do something productive, maybe going for a walk would make you feel better. A walk by the beach. It was just as you remembered it. Beautiful. Peaceful. Suddenly your mind was flooded.

“I’ve been traded to Toronto. I leave at 4am.” What bullshit was that? How could he leave so suddenly and not even be phased? Not have any remorse for any of it?

“Stay in touch Freddie.” You were so stupid to think that he would care enough to keep whatever this was going long distance. You had to face reality, that you didn’t mean anything to him. It came again, the dizziness, the shortness of breath. It couldn’t be stopped this time. There was only black. You woke up to the incessant sound of beeping, beeping, what was all that beeping? Your eyes were met with an uncomfortable brightness. This isn’t the beach, you thought to yourself, before rubbing your head, “What?” you started to say, confused as to how you ended up in a hospital bed

“Ah, Miss (Y/L/N) I see you are awake,” the nurse checking your vitals said, “I’ll get the doctor for you, I’m sure you have many questions.” Sitting yourself up, you watched her leave the room before finding the clock and realizing that it had been two hours since you went to the beach. You couldn’t believe you were unconscious for that long, this was crazy, “she’s still groggy” the nurse said, directing the doctor to your bedside

“That’s normal,” the doctor explained with a smile, “well, we’ve run some tests and you’re severely dehydrated”

“Dehydrated?” you asked, “I don’t un– I mean I haven’t been out of bed for a couple weeks but I’ve just been dealing with some things”

“Seven” he smiled, checking the paperwork in front of him casually

“Excuse me?” you replied, furrowing your brow

“Seven weeks,” he added, “my guess is that you haven’t been drinking a lot of water”

“I haven’t really been up for it” you cowered

“Well, please do,” the doctor said, “for your baby’s sake”

“I’m sorry what?” you exclaimed, “Baby?” you said, shaking your head

“Yes,” the doctor repeated, “you’re about seven weeks along. Give or take a couple days. All women handle their pregnancies differently, which might account for your drowsiness and any mood swings you may have been experiencing”

“I’m not pregnant” you scoffed, readjusting yourself in your bed

“You are” the doctor returned your scoff, seemingly annoyed at your behaviour

“I can’t be…”

“The results say otherwise”

“But I haven’t had sex, I haven’t left my bed in.. like two months”

“Which is about seven weeks”

“But I… I can’t be pregnant”

“Is there anyone we can call for you?”

“No… there’s no one” you lowered your eyes as the realization came over you.

Month 3

After you were released from the hospital, you tried to make the pregnancy easier on yourself by reading a million books and telling your parents what you needed or letting your mom tell you what she thought you needed

“You know what I think will really help?” she said, “telling the father…”

“Mom…” you whined

“He deserves to know, too.” She was right, of course, as all mom’s usually are so you agreed to reach out but you deleted his number when you convinced yourself it was better to forget about him, forcing you to search him out online; a huge mistake really. There were stories about girls who he’d slept with and left ‘in his wake,’ none of which you could be sure of their validity, but then you’d find pictures of him hanging out with Auston Matthews or William Nylander or any of the younger teammates in clubs and bars and you could only imagine that their behaviours spilled into his, so you let it go.

Month 9

“But what happens when that kid is born with red hair and freckles? Or when he’s a natural athlete?” your sister asked

“What do you mean?” you scoffed

“You can’t hide that,” she tried, tilting her head as she continued, hoping you’d get her point. “He’s gonna know. If there’s a picture, he’s gonna know. He’s not dense…”

“The kid probably won’t be a red head. So he’d never know..” you said knowing very well it could be a possibility. She huffed when she realized she wouldn’t get through your stubbornness. As time went on, you realized that there was no use denying it, Jackson was already excelling at every sport he tried. Knowing this, you kept him as far away from ice as possible. You knew it was wrong but you just couldn’t risk it, especially after so many of the Ducks already knew you. Whenever you thought about reaching out and telling him the truth, something was being said about him. He seemed to be a magnet for negativity.

“Possible Frederik Andersen injury a very troubling turn for Maple Leafs”

“Maple Leafs placing all their faith in Frederik Andersen”

“Andersen Said What Every Maple Leaf Fan Is Thinking”

“Maple Leafs goalie Frederik Andersen fined $2K for embellishment”

“Toronto Maple Leafs: Andersen has been a Disaster”

Every headline seemed to be worse than the last and you knew that if you were feeling stressed just reading them, then he was probably shutting himself away to hide from everyone after living with them. This was a normal thing for goalies to go through in the NHL but there was something about the way Toronto was treating Freddie that made you want to be there for him. But you couldn’t make a decision like that so easily anymore. It wasn’t just about you and your feelings anymore, you had your baby boy to think about and the older he got, the more you could see his personality grow and the more his personality grew, the happier he was; you couldn’t imagine taking that away from him. You couldn’t take that life away from him. But watching Freddie’s career hit highs and lows, noticing he was alone through most of it, your heart broke for him. You hoped that, somehow, your love would reach him. You hoped for his happiness even before your own. Even so, you would protect your son through everything, knowing that meant it might cost you the truest of love.

Toronto 2021

“Why did you lie to me?” Freddie said under his breath. You could tell he was angry and there was no getting away from this.

“What are you talking about? I didn’t lie. I told you I had a one night stand with some guy– why are we even talking about this again?” You tried your best to keep the story straight, hoping to appease him

“You lied about Jackson not being mine!” he started to shout

“I didn’t…” you stammered. There’s no way. He couldn’t know. You had made sure of it

“I did the math… I saw your post and I went back because something didn’t… add up…” he admitted, “and the math didn’t fit with some one night stand. That kid in there, who looked an awful lot like me as a kid, he’s mine. And you lied about it. You kept it from me, kept HIM from me!”

“HE’S MY SON!” you cried. Everything was falling apart and you weren’t sure what to do anymore. There was no getting around this, you had to let out what you’d been holding in from that night, “and you left me! YOU LEFT US!”

“BUT HE’S MY SON TOO!” he countered and you furrowed your brow, shaking your head as you tried to think of what to say next.

“I made a choice, Freddie. I looked at how quickly our life together changed and I… made a choice. I couldn’t put a child through all of that. Moving at the drop of a hat, having to say goodbye to friends and homes and cities whenever your job called for it… You never looked back, you never reached out. After two months of waiting, I woke up alone in a hospital and you didn’t even care to call. So I did this. I HAD TO” you confessed, sorrow filling your eyes as you watched his face soften. “So yeah, I lied. But I didn’t lie to hurt you. I lied to protect him. No matter what. I make no apologies for that.”

“How was I supposed to know that you were in the hospital?”

“It doesn’t matter, Freddie,” you sighed, “the point is, you left and I was alone and I couldn’t wait for you.”

“So what now?”

“I don’t know,” you started. “If this had happened before you got traded, our life would’ve been so different. I pictured it, you know,” you smiled, “our life. With Jackson. We looked so happy in my daydreams”

“We could be happy like that,” he whispered, moving close to you, “in real life”

“I can’t change his life for you”

“I don’t want you to change his life,” he smiled, closing the gap between the two of you and you felt your heartbeat in your head, making it hard to think straight, “I just want to be part of it...”

“He doesn’t know who you are” you said through bated breath

“Let’s tell him then” he exclaimed

“No,” you insisted, putting your hands on his forearms, “if we’re going to do this, we have to take it slow”

“Slow?” he asked, leaning down to your ear, “how slow?”

“I just don’t want him to feel overwhelmed,” you replied, your hands drifting up his arms, “just... start by introducing yourself to him... We’ll have lunch”

“I can do that” he smirked, pushing your hair back before laying a kiss to the exposed skin of your collarbone

“You have to be patient”

“I can do that” he repeated as a moan left your mouth

“I don’t know if you can” you chuckled, finally pushing him away from you

“I can”

“I’m serious”

“So am I!” he laughed, placing his hands on your hips to stop you from turning around, “he’s my son and I will do anything to get to know him”

“He can’t know you’re his dad yet,” you said again, “I know it seems weird but, please, just don’t fight me on this”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it”

“Good” you joked, cocking your eyebrow before he smiled at you. That smile always broke you, always made your heart louder than your head, and, right now, you were more than happy to listen to it. He met you in the middle, pressing a kiss to your lips before his hands pushed your body into his and suddenly, it all felt so perfect. Like no time had passed. He was yours again and you were determined to keep it that way.

#Frederik Andersen #Frederik Andersen fic #Frederik Andersen imagine #freddie andersen #Freddie Andersen fic #Freddie Andersen imagine #Frederik Andersen request #Freddie Andersen request #Frederik Andersen angst #Freddie Andersen angst #masterlist #the other masterlist #nhl #hockey #tml

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artificialqueens · 3 years

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Come Home to My Heart, Chapter 2 (Lemyanka) - Plastiquedoll

read on ao3 ✨| chapter 1

A/N: hiii, this is chapter 2 of this lemyanka childhood friends, friends to lovers, idiots to lovers whatever you wanna call it. I really wanted to play with the time skips to show different parts of their lives together throughout the years so this is a continuation from chapter 1 a few years later. thanks for reading <3

-2-

At the age of thirteen, there were many things Priyanka loved. The list included: electric blue glittery nail polish, writing her name with a golden pen, pop music and girl groups-especially Britney Spears and The Spice Girls-, any movie with Lindsay Lohan in it, acting in the school productions -especially if she got the main role-, sleepovers over Lemon’s house where they secretly watched The O.C., seeing films with Lemon without an “adult” with them, re-acting scenes of the Cheetah Girls movie with Lemon…

She was at Lemon’s a lot.

The thing was, Lemon was the only child of her parent’s marriage, her parents both worked, and most of the time she had the house on her own. For Priyanka -who lived with her siblings and her parents and couldn’t spare one second of privacy at her own home- it was like paradise. They did everything together, on the weekdays they did homework together and afterward, they would lay in the blonde’s room reading magazines and cutting pictures of celebrities and clothes they liked, or listen to a new CD they had been saving for weeks to buy for hours until they knew the lyrics by heart.

Her room had yellow walls -big shocker- and it was covered in posters and pictures with Priyanka, white carpet on the floor, and a mix of Barbie dolls and makeup over the boudoir. She also had a large single bed only for herself with like a million fluffy pillows they had shared more than once.

Lemon had ballet classes three times per-week and Priyanka had rehearsals with the drama club but those were the only moments they were apart. Being childhood friends, their parents got into the obligation of sending them to the same primary school after finishing kindergarten and now they would attend the same secondary school once summer was over.

It was a warm day of summer, Lemon rolled over her bed and showed Priyanka an item she liked, Crazy in Love by Beyoncé played on the radio while the other girl was trying to cover a pimple on her chin with some foundation she had bought in the mall.

“You’re going to make it worse.” Lemon made her remove her hands.

“It hurts, it’s like a little red dot full of hate.”

“Use toothpaste instead.”

“Does it work?”

“Allegedly.” She shrugged. “I read it somewhere.”

“Okay… What did you want to show me?”

“Look at these,” she pointed at a picture of Hillary Duff. “I need those shoes.”

“That’s a pump.” Priyanka said, unimpressed.

“But it’s pink and yellow. How you don’t like the gradient in the colors? I’m in love.”

“Can you even walk with heels?”

She rolled her eyes. “Of course I can. When you’re short like me, you gotta have some options.”

Priyanka couldn’t argue with that, for her age she was already one of the tallest girls in the classroom. Sometimes she disliked being that tall, she felt like a little deer that couldn’t control its feet, wobbling around awkwardly.

Her best friend flipped a few more pages.

“Look! It’s a poster of Ryan Gosling from that movie… The Notebook.” She sounded excited.

Right. They were supposed to be excited about handsome muscle guys but there was something about it that didn’t click with Priyanka. She thought maybe she was just too young to get it, that when she’d grow older she’d get the feeling but until then, she had become very good at pretending.

“Oh, he’s so hot.” She hoped Lemon didn’t notice the fakeness of her voice.

“I know, right?” She giggled. “Do you want his picture?”

“Ah… you can keep it… I already have Leonardo DiCaprio’s and that’s just too many white guys.”

“Alright.” She picked a pair of scissors and started cutting the actor’s silhouette. The pair of dark-framed glasses she had on kept sliding down her nose bridge.

Priyanka smiled fondly at it.

“I’m home!” It was Lemon’s mom that had just returned from work.

Lemon jumped out of the bed and stood in the door’s frame. She looked even smaller in that oversized t-shirt of the Powerpuff Girls and shorts she wore as pajamas. Her hair was tied in a messy ponytail that brushed her shoulder blades.

“Hi, mom.” She yelled. “Priyanka’s here!”

“Hi, Priyanka!”

“Hello, Mrs. Baptsita!”

Priyanka adored Mrs. Baptista, she was a little wacky for Lemon’s taste but it was because she was younger than most moms with kids their age. She liked Priyanka and she supported their friendship since kindergarten, called them the Ketchup&Mustard duo since that Halloween they had matching costumes.

“Is she staying for dinner?”

Lemon turned around. “Are you staying for dinner?”

Priyanka shrugged. “Sure.”

“She is mom!”

“I’m making spaghetti!”

“Sound good!” She turned back to Priyanka again. “I hope you like spaghetti.”

“You know I do.”

Just a couple of minutes later, they heard the sound of Mr. Baptista’s car at the entrance.

“That’s my dad.” Lemon pointed.

“Hello, I’m home.”

“Hi, dad! Priyanka’s here.”

“Hi Lemon drop, hi Priyanka!”

“Hello, Mr. Baptista!”

Lemon grinned but not even five minutes later than her father’s arrival, the vibe of the kitchen changed and it was clear by the sound of their voices, her parents were arguing. Another argument…

“I swear to God… this is the third time this week."

Lemon sat on the edge of the bed and buried her face in her hands. She looked tired.

Priyanka gently touched her knee offering some comfort. Lemon pulled a weak smile that faded as soon as the voices increased in volume.

"Hey, I have some extra cash, wanna get some pizza?” Priyanka offered.

Lemon bit her bottom lip and nodded. “Let’s go.”

Lemon changed her shorts for pants and put on a pair of sneakers, then she grabbed her keys and both of them were out of the house. It wasn’t that late yet and there was a pizza place a few blocks away they could get on foot; they walked in silence until Lemon’s house was behind, then the blonde let a big sigh out of her chest.

“Pri, I can’t do this…” She sounded fragile as if she was holding the pieces together trying not to break with all her strengths.

Priyanka ran her arm over her shoulder and held her when she seemed about to fall.

“It’s okay, I’m sure they are going to work it out.”

Lemon snorted. “They started going to couple’s counseling and it got worse, they have pretty solid arguments to fight now.”

Priyanka covered her mouth holding back the laughter. “Sorry.”

“You dumb bitch.” Lemon shook her head.

They walked hugged like that the rest of the way, ate greasy pizza with extra cheese, and returned to a sepulchral silent house. Priyanka laid on the bed next to her, so close yet so far. If she extended her hand just a little more, she could touch her shoulder, make sure she was okay but for some reason, she couldn’t. Yet, she hoped that being there for her friend was enough then.

On the other side, Lemon had her eyes wide open, unable to drift off when her mind was going through a million different scenarios. Everything could only go downhill from there.

They didn’t know at that moment but the worst was yet to come.

She dashed out of the house as soon as she got the phone call, barely having the chance to put on a helmet before grabbing her bike. Priyanka was still catching her breath by the time Lemon opened the door.

Her face was bathed in tears, her eyes completely red and she couldn’t stop crying not even to explain what had happened. Priyanka had a vague idea judging by what was said on the phone but it wasn’t until she saw her friend she knew it was bad. Very bad.

Lemon wasn’t the most physically affectionate person in the world but she let Priyanka hug her and cried it out on her chest. They sat on the porch until the blonde began to calm down and could explain it better.

“Pri, they… they are getting divorced. It’s all happening so fast.”

Priyanka held her hand and squeezed it lightly. Lemon looked at her hand and then at her face, her eyes flooded with tears again.

“Hey,” The brunette tried to comfort her. “I’m so sorry, I know you love them both and they love you very much but this is probably for the best.”

“No, Pri, you don’t understand. They are… separating for real. They talked about lawyers and My mom she…” Lemon sobbed. “She wants us to move out…”

“Oh, I mean, that’s normal like-”

“…to New York.” Her voice was weak, defeated.

It took Priyanka a moment to process the newly acquired information.

“New York?!” She repeated in disbelief.

“Apparently, she has a job offer there, and… they think it’s for the best to put some distance between them.”

“I get the ‘moving out thing’ and the distance but that’s a completely different country!”

“I know! That’s what I said. Tell me I’m right, she’s out of her mind.”

“But wait, when does she want you to move out? What about school?”

“She thinks it’s a good idea if we go before the new semester starts so we can settle in and…”

“No, the new semester starts in two weeks… What about your dance lessons? Your life here?”

What about us?

“She said there are plenty of dance academies over there… That I would do fine. I hate it. This doesn’t go with the plan we had.”

Priyanka and Lemon had a life plan since they were ten, sealed with a pinky promise. They were going to graduate high school together and go to university in Toronto where they both would be roommates throughout college. It was their way of being together, to accomplish things in the company of the other, a sign of their unbreakable friendship.

“Wait but… what about your dad?” Can’t you stay with him?“ There was a hint of hope in Priyanka’s voice.

Lemon stared at the wooden floor of the porch for the longest time before looking back at her friend.

"I can’t. My dad travels a lot for business and while he’s going to remain here… my mom gave me no choice. They even said that it’s either New York or some boarding school in Quebec.”

Lemon surely had gone mad about it for her parents to threaten her like that, it didn’t sound like the Baptistas at all.

“This can’t be…” Priyanka shook her head. The tears felt warm on her cheeks.

“We’re leaving next week.”

“No…no, that’s… that’s too soon. You can’t leave… who’s going to help me buy a new outfit for the first day? Who’s going through the first day of school with me?”

“I hate to think about it. They really think this is for the best and then decide to drag me to a different country for the first year of school… «You have to be reasonable» they said, but they are the ones that come with these ideas out of blue.”

It was too sudden it made Priyanka felt dizzy; she couldn’t even begin to imagine what her friend was feeling like.

She squeezed her hand again. “It’s going to be okay.”

“You keep saying that but-” Lemon shook her head.

“Because it is going to be okay. I promise you, we’ll still be together, and… maybe we don’t get to attend the same high-school but we can still go to college together, the plan can still work out.”

“Are you sure?”

“Completely. You’re my best friend in the world; nothing is going to change that.”

Lemon smiled for the first time after getting the news of her parents’ divorce.

“Thanks, Pri.” She went for a hug and was received with open arms.

They hugged for a while without saying a single word, in that situation, words were unnecessary.

The day of Lemon’s moving, ironically the sun was shining and Priyanka kept reminding herself that in different circumstances they’d be at the park with their bikes or at the local pool but no, she was heading to her best friend’s house to say the last goodbye.

Priyanka hadn’t cried in front of her since that day on the porch but she had cried a lot when no one was seeing her. She was sad, upset, and mad about the situation but she didn’t want Lemon to leave with a sad note. So she went ahead and planned a week dedicated to her best friend, to enjoy the things they loved the most.

They had made each other friendship bracelets with their names –Priyanka was red and orange and it had a little golden star hanging next to her name; Lemon’s was pink and yellow and a butterfly next to hers- they had movie nights and sleepovers, karaoke sessions and dancing marathons every day until that awful day arrived.

Priyanka rode her bike like she had done millions of times before. There was a «FOR SALE» sign hanging outside and she hated it with all her soul. There was a truck parked outside as well with many boxes stacked inside and some furniture pieces they were taking to New York. Lemon was sitting on the porch’s stairs with a backpack on, the scene was oddly familiar and for a second time stopped.

She didn’t notice Priyanka’s presence until the brunette touched her shoulder.

“You’re here.” She said and did her best to smile.

“Where else I’d be?”

Lemon stood on her feet and hugged her, Priyanka hugged her back.

“Promise me you’re going to wait for my calls every week… and that you’re not going to have another best friend… ever.” Lemon sobbed on her shoulder.

“I promise it.” Priyanka patted her back in a calming gesture.

“I’ll visit on holidays, my dad is probably going to get a shitty apartment but still, I’ll be here.”

“I know you will.”

Lemon let go of her embrace. “Thank you, Pri. You’re my best friend in the world.”

“I know, right?”

The blonde giggled. “You’re so stupid…”

“Luce, get in the car, it’s time to go.” Her mom called her as she carried one last box.

“I have to go now. I already said good-bye to my dad; he had a flight to catch early but… It feels so empty without him here.”

“Lemz, I’m sorry.” She hugged her one more time. It was quick but it lingered. “Take care and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do in New York.”

“That sets the bar very low, don’t you think?”

Priyanka laughed. “I’ll miss you like crazy.”

“Me too.”

Lemon’s mom waved in their direction, the car was already on and the truck was closed and packed.

“Well, I guess this is our goodbye for now.”

“Count the days because I’m going to be back in no time, okay?”

She nodded.

“Love you, Pri.”

“Love you too.”

And with that said, Lemon started walking toward the car. It was painful to watch her leave but Priyanka didn’t want to look away, she wanted to remember it all until they could meet again.

The car started moving but stopped abruptly as Lemon opened the door and ran back to where Priyanka was.

“Lemon, what…?”

“I almost forgot, I was supposed to give you this the first day of school but…” She was out of breath. Suddenly a brand new CD of Spiceworld was on Priyanka’s hands. “You were so sad when your sister broke the one you had worked so hard to buy and I thought…”

Priyanka was hugging her again. “Oh, Lemon…”

“Please don’t forget me.”

Her mom honked at them, the truck was already hitting the road.

Lemon walked back and this time, she left for real.

#rpdr fanfiction #drcan #can1 #priyanka #lemon #lemon x priyanka #childhood friends #friends to lovers #lesbian au #timeskips #angst #come home to my heart #plastiquedoll #concrit welcome #tw mentions of divorce

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ceasarslegion · 4 years

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They say that smell is the best memory trigger, but I actually stim through audio, so I tend to strongly associate certain songs with memory, usually because I listened to it a lot at certain intervals. 8tracks got taken down, and I’m not paying for Spotify, so I guess I’m posting my list and the explanations here. It’s like my life in music! I’m gonna do 5 for now, and build up more later.

1. Give Up the Grudge: I used to live with my grandparents, my parents, and my uncle all in the same house. My parents had me really young, because I was a product of accidental teen pregnancy, so my uncle’s only 10 years older than me. He gave me all his old pop punk CDs when he was around 17, and this was the first song on the first CD I listened to, uncensored. It was so scandalous to me at the time, I loved it, and the fact that it got me in trouble only made me love it more. Thus why punk’s been the one constant in my absolutely outrageous music taste.

2. Teenage Dirtbag: oooh, this one’s special. This was my high school anthem, basically. My friends and I listened to it constantly, were always singing it together, everything. Road trips to Muscat were serenaded by Wheatus-fueled carpool karaoke. Camping trips in the desert got us noise complaints from the local farmers from us howling it at the top of our lungs. This is the warm Abu Dhabi breeze during night walks in Yas Park and the revving of motorcycle engines while we sped down to the corniche to eat ice cream on the beach; the scratchy fabric of our school uniforms, the smell of the practice rooms outside the band classroom I would jam in at lunch, the way the drama studio echoed a little too much, the announcement that I won the student council presidency in the 12th grade, and games of frisbee in the main courtyard that would get us yelled at by the guard because we were supposed to be going to class. This one’s special.

3. Mr. Brightside: I worked really shitty hours after high school. I had a full-time job writing the film column at a local pop culture magazine where I saved up for misc. uni expenses like food and rent, and by night I did musical theatre with a local cast dedicated to bringing the Broadway experience to the Middle East. On top of that, it was an hour’s commute into the city by bus because of how shitty the public transit is there. In short, I left home at 7am, and didn’t come back until 10pm if we didn’t go out after rehearsal. 17-19 year-old me slept on the bus and was fueled by red bull and ambition. But for some reason I always listened to Mr. Brightside when night fell and I watched the city lights go by, and there’d be maybe 3 people on that bus by that time of night. It was calm, serene, and if you’ve ever seen the Abu Dhabi skyline at night, it’s very calming. Mr. Brightside reminds me of that feeling. Even my nose feels wet because of how humid it is over there.

4. True Trans Soul Rebel: I mean, there was a dark side to it. It’s illegal to be LGBT+ there, and punishable by death on the books. Imagine what it’s like growing up there as a trans man who knows he might be killed and his family deported if he gives any indication. They monitor what you do online and track everything you say, so I had no one, and nothing. Until I was listening to Welcome To Night Vale while napping in the sun at the community pool, and Cecil puts this on as the weather song. I immediately sat up, and hit the download button on my podcast app so I could have this. In all this darkness and bigotry and fear I was living in the thick of, I had an episode of Night Vale that aired this as the weather song, which was just enough of a buffer to keep me relatively safe from the government. It wasn’t much, but it was a rope to grasp onto that told me I had a future after all this when I felt like it was hopeless. I’ve done everything from sob into my pillow at night to this song to bop to it when it comes on now that I’m in a safe place where I can be myself.

5. I Was A Teenage Anarchist (CW for police brutality): It’s no secret that the geopolitics of the Middle East aren’t exactly... chill. And you can’t talk about politics there. You just don’t. If you say you don’t agree with the Sheikh or mention the word Qatar there, you can get thrown in jail for political dissidence. And me, I’m an aggressive person. I almost always choose fight if it’s fight or flight. God has cursed me with righteous fury and I’ve decided to make that the state’s problem. So growing up seeing what I saw in authoritarianism, when my political views developed, I flipped to anarchism. This song and its music video was actually the first I’d ever heard that term mentioned outside of a synonym for societal collapse, and the portrayals it gives here started making me question things, because it looked a lot like what policing did at home. It didn’t make me an anarchist, but it certainly handed me a chisel and sat me down in front of the wall of propaganda that had been built in my subconscious by the state. And when I did come here, I came with a vengeance. I run with Toronto Against Fascism, I go to as many rallies and political activism as I can, and, well... I’ve never seen the back of a cop. Extrapolate from that what you will.

#oop #shut up dames

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